cuideag

^ ^ ^ This, basically. I'm not bothered by it. Makes sense to me to put time in and actually play the game to take advantage of some of the perks. But I suppose I'm the type of player who doesn't like seeing MMOs turn too casual friendly. Chances are I won't be buying one for my alt but ICly she isn't the type to settle down, anyway. Jajara will hopefully get herself a cozy little place in Ul'dah once she stops spending all her gil on stupid hats and things.

There were times when Jajara Jara forgot herself. She hardly ever realized it, hardly ever noticed it: a blink or a breath and then she would become aware of the darkened sky bells later (or in a few occasions the rise of dawn). She would move and function without thought and there would be a pile of carefully wrought ingots at her side, or a bag full of perfectly polished gemstones. As of late, when she would take herself out to the edge of the desert where she liked to practice her art, she would be left with a feeling of great power, great strength that would only wane when she woke from the flow of movements that took her. The door slammed and she was alone. The door slammed and she woke then, felt the breath heaving into her lungs, felt more than heard the dull whine of complete silence. No, not complete silence, she realized then. Footsteps light and quick were walking away. He was leaving. Why was he leaving? She breathed and her lungs felt clogged as if with sand, gritty and sharp and stinging at the whole of her. Jajara was aching and, for a moment, she did not know why. The lights were dimmed in the apartment that they shared, in rooms that were always far too large for her when she was alone. The door was shut and he was walking away. Jajara forgot how to breathe.

Your lines are absolutely fantastic, omg. And the way you do expressions.... */grovel. /grovels everywhere.*

D just likes hitting people. It's just a thing. She really could have just gone home after that and been fine. .... that probably would have been the better move to make. DANG IT, ASKIER.

Stares exchanged. Shots fired.

One Delial Grimsong has been pulled back into the Garlean scheme of things, if yall need an angry Ala Mhigan to make a mess of things for you.

Highlanders are so cool, it's really just unfair. Especially Highlanders called Brynhilde Wulf.

The start of a bad day... ... leads right in to another. Somewhere in Ul'dah, there stews a very angry Highlander.

I like to imagine the little Metal Gear Solid alarm sound goes off whenever she spots a shirtless highlander.

Ahoy there! ... again! We've already met of course and I am very glad to see you here! It's a lovely community we have here and I am sure you will find a lovely accomidating group easily enough. I've honestly only been in just two FCs but I've met a whole lot of great folks from a whole lot of FCs, some of which don't have much representation here! For linkshells there's always the various Intermission shells, which house lots of other RPers with whom you might get in touch with, and many FCs also have IC and/or OOC shells not exclusive to their FCs to foster similar interactions. I do like that Margulis is definitely very open to character growth and potential! One thing you might consider to help ground him out some (or just provide reference for yourself and others) is make a page for him on the lovely wiki. Told you this in game but please feel free to poke me whenever you like! Always happy to RP. Welcome to the community!

I missed posting this. Gosh i was brain addled. And minutes prior to this encounter, Delial was being a terrible, lecherous jerk. These poor boys!

Gathering allies. ... it just so happens they're all miqo'te. >_> <_<

I'll volunteer my Delial Grimsong for the spy side of things. She's been working in Ul'dah under one Garlean agent as it is, while making a mess subverting the efforts of an Ala Mhigan Resistance movement so it would not be entirely implausible that someone from the Garlean side might either know of her or find out about her and her actions.

SPITS

Enjoyed the event very much. It was so great seeing SO MANY people turn out! So many nameplates everywhere! Amazing!

Quietly checking out a Zachary Evans from afar, while awaiting the arrival of another. Dat booty. Thumbs up, Zachary. Thumbs up.

^ ^ ^ Tavern chit-chat is one thing, and it's great if you want some casual, killin-the-time RP. Lasting connections need reasoning behind them so throw yourself out there, make some OOC connections! Get to know the other players as well as the characters they play, and scheme! I think you will find that your interactions will be more fullfilling and the relationships you build IC and OOC will help make the RP game more enjoyable overall.

Jajara and her little brother, Sasasori, are the cutiest of cutie patooties.

Jajara few up in a predominantly male family and as such tends to get along easier with males in general. The females of her family, including her sisters and her terror of a mother, were all extraordinarily strong women in her eyes who followed the traditional gender roles expected of her clan while maintaining their own brand of independence. Never was her mother just her father's wife, for example. She looks down on giving preference to one gender or the other and doesn't take overly "chivalrous" or "gentlemanly" people too seriously, feeling that while they are being insulting in a backhanded sort of way rather than polite as they may think. In terms of attraction, Jajara is fascinated by non-lalafell females but that fascination does not cross over into anything sexual. Delial believes very much in feminine superiority, feeling that females are indeed the stronger, smarter sex. That said, she tends to be a little more suspicious the women with whom she associates. She has a habit of underestimating men, feeling that they are easier to bend to her needs. Sexually, Delial swings either way. Beauty is beauty, and sex is sex.

The glamour system is going to be the end of me.

Holy smokes dat Jaques O_____O

Hnngh so lovely. Going to have to look into giving you a poke!

I need more Zoe in my life. Everyone does.

On his third time through the room, Hroch Greyarm finally stopped himself. There was nothing left that could identify the man who had slept here, nothing at all to even say that anyone had stayed aside from an unmade bed and a piece of whetstone left on the table. Brynnalia said there would have been nothing to find: Aylard kept his contacts in his head and only in his head, memorizing names and faces and occupations of acquaintances new and old alike. The man was no fool. He was careful. That was how he survived. Hroch rubbed his face with a hand, catching himself pacing about in tiny circles. That was how he survived, he echoed in his mind, doubt sinking deep and dark in the pit of his stomach. It was the third sun and counting since Aylard had failed to meet them at their mark and no one had so much as heard a thing from the old man. "This isn't like him," they'd say. "Something is wrong. Where could he be?" Angry, accusatory eyes had sought him as if it was Hroch himself that was behind Aylard's disappearance. It was his father, after all. How could he possibly lose sight of his father? "What are we going to do?" What are we going to do? Tensions had been high among he and his peers after their catastrophic failure to secure the ceruleum he and his father had been sent to Thanalan for, after the attack and explosions and fire, after Ruva took a fall that may very well have cost him the ability to walk and most certainly cost another man his life. Somewhere along the line something had gone wrong and none of them could decide what it could have been. The attack itself had come as a complete surprise: they'd snuck up from behind, their presence detected only as one of them made a false step on the bridge as they attempted to neutralize the lookouts. Only after Ruva had fallen and one sentry was murdered did they retreat, both parties licking wounds and wondering what exactly had just happened. Ruva. Hroch's eyes pinched shut at the stinging chill in his chest every time he thought about Daena's father. He could still hear the painful crunch his body had made when he fell, and the terrified look in his red-haired daughter's eyes. That should never have happened. Never. We should have been careful. What are we going to do? They set the leg as best as they could but there was no telling if it would ever fully heal. But he's alive and accounted for, Hroch caught himself thinking bitterly. Never would he have dared say it aloud and the mere act of having thought it filled him with shame and loathing. Battered as he was, Daena still had him. No self-respecting Ala Mhigan would let himself die tumbling off a catwalk and Ruva Ghurn was as proud an Ala Mhigan as any. But so is da, and where is he? His breath left him in a heavy sigh and he felt all the more empty for it. The compulsion to sift through the drawers and comb through the armoire hit him once more but he knew there would be nothing to find, just as there was nothing to be found at the mines after the attack save fire and rubble and just as he was left with fewer and fewer leads left to follow. Gharen Wolfsong spoke of to them of a student of his that had participated in the brief battle but was insistent that he be the one to speak with her. "We've enough wounded an' dead o'er this," he said to Daena in particular. "Rushin' in blindly with youthful anger an' stupidity won' help either." "Things are nae add'n up," he said, shaking his head. It was an obvious truth no one else wanted to admit, for admitting it would have only proven that they were not as in control of the situation as they had previously believed. What do we do? Hroch Greyarm fidgeted and tugged at the bed sheets into some semblance of order. Then he swore and messed them up just as they were. He'll come back and I'll have a word with him about responsibility, Hroch told himself. A man's nothing without discipline and making their beds is what responsible people do. Quietly he sat himself down on the edge of the bed and, alone and in silence, Hroch waited. It was not until bells later that he would realize that he had been weeping.

Hellloooooooo.