cuideag

When I was a kid, I watched this like... super SD cartoon that had Gundam dudes in it. No idea what it was called but I do remember: 1. that tennis ball thing HERRO HERRO GENKI 2. some sort of space station and I think some kind of carabet type deal? 3. a pee joke involving that Char's dude's name (shaaaaaaaaa) 4. probably at least one cross-dressing gundam robot thing 5. OH an ice skating competition 6. some lightning cloud robot getting decapitated and then having to fly people around with his head because I guess that's what he does???? and that's all I know about Gundam.

[video=youtube] yep still in Undertale Hell aND I LOVE IT

Another older Ala Mhigan representing. o/ Known for being very hostile towards the Resistance movement. Gimme a poke if you want a pro-Garlean to play with.

SNIFFFFFF SLUURRRRP

[video=youtube] HELP I LOVE SKELLIES AND ALSO RIDICULOUSLY GOOD RPGS but mostly skellies

An undecorated letter arrived without ceremony, as if the deliverer (a somewhat haggard looking moogle if ever there was such a thing) was used to keeping such deliveries quiet. It came and went without so much as a 'how-do-you-do-kupo,' leaving Franz with a letter in Grimsong's neat utilitarian hand.

Honestly I think doing the hunts (you can bring your chocobo too! maybe get some extra EXP from the challenge log!) and just spamming dungeons (Vault like Melkire said at that level) is my preferred way of going about it. I haaaaaaate hate FATEs but they're not bad if you're doing them for filler in between dungeon queues. It's definitely a grind no matter how you go about it, so hang in there!!

Kage only needed to wait the better part of a sun before a letter addressed to his name found its way to him.

Dietreich Blackstone likely would have faced more pressure from his family to join the Fists of Rhalgr and might have actually made a decent brawler. Had things gone differently, he might have even become an actual monk. His dedication to the art might not have been so great as his brothers, and of course the King of Ruin had other plans for the temple anyway. Chakra or no, one could still find plenty to fight. He and his family probably would have eventually fled Ala Mhigo, perhaps to settle in with the Resistance in the Shroud. Little Ala Mhigo was a coward's den as far as father was concerned, and his sons would have no part of it, either. So they would put up with the snivelling fools who look down at them in the name of their elementals and work to piece together something to keep them afloat until the day they could return home. Dietreich might have taken up the lance, even, between whatever other jobs he could find: the fist was a true Ala Mhigan art, of course, but there was something just so satisfying about sticking someone with a polearm. And if that someone just happened to be a Garlean, well, that just made it all the better! Hunting Imperials was sure to be a quick way to earn coin and reputation. Maybe someday he'd get it in his head to call himself Grimsong, just so they'd know to be afraid if they ever hear him coming.

One more for the Dunkey pile! Also a fan of the Jimquisition and his perspective on gaming and the gaming industry. VaatiVidya and his Dark Souls/Bloodborne lore interpretations. Regular Ordinary Swedish Meal Time is always a good time.

Fellow former Yahoo! RPer as well. Maybe we can get matching rocking chairs? Welcome aboard, Sasazi! Good to see you here! C:

I am an absolute sucker for the enemies-turned-sweethearts kind of romance. All that animosity, rivalry, whatever slowly simmering away into something that should have been impossible gives me all kinds of life. I love complications and challenges and seeing relationships tested in all kinds of ways, and the lengths one or both/all partners will go to to either see it sink or swim. Bonus points if involved parties are horrible messes even without the other being there to muck things up more. I also have a soft spot for sweetness and fluff, but... naw! Perfect cute romances might be cute to watch but not so fun to play in my opinion.

I'm really bad at keeping track of character timelines and dates and whatnot so I picked 36 or whatever when I rolled her mostly to have a number to run with. Basically she tells people she's late 30s but she could just as easily be in her early 40s as well.

1. Peiste 2. Coeurl 3. One of those little Drake things?

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I like 2 and 12 for the ladies, kind of eeeeehhh on most of the ones for dudes but I voted for 14. Would love to see more ornamentation, be it from bandanas or other things like that.

UltimaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAA!! also Ravana. Good golly I love Ravana's theme.

The door closed behind her, set back into place by the weight of the body that remained leaning against it. Delial allowed herself to slump just slightly, sighing loud enough that she could have been heard had anyone been waiting immediately outside. Someone suggested it as an exercise before, that she might clear her mind and relax her spirit after a particularly trying event. It rarely ever worked. It took them far too long to fish for anyone who held even a passing interest with speaking with them, and then that was swiftly sabotaged by a lunatic with an enormous sword. They were left with three dead bodies but upon reflection Delial began to wish for the fourth: the last of their contacts had gotten away maimed and terrified, and she would be surprised if he had not been telling his peers and others in the Brume to be wary of a group of foreigners with gil and questions moving with a dark skinned highlander woman. Given what she had seen of the populace so far, it would not be difficult for anyone to make the connection to her. Even Kiryuu had been met with open suspicion, and no doubt a lalafell with a white beret and a large axe would be difficult to miss despite his stature. Delial counted one, two, three, and pushed off to stride across the room. At Kiryuu's insistence they had shared the room, albeit briefly. His generosity was unnerving at times, and she could not quite figure if it was an attempt to make right the slights once inflicted by his then partner in the Sultansworn. She hardly saw him at the inn regardless: her hours were intentionally tuned to be opposite his, that she might have privacy during his waking hours and that might have his during hers. It was simpler that way and he did not complain. Nor did she complain when he moved his things out and took another room elsewhere in the Knight, citing concerns for safety. That the girl's death bothered him was plain, for Kage Kiryuu was not very good at masking his worries. Early on she had laid claim to the armoire and it was there that she stopped. Her wardrobe shrunk considerably since departing Limsa Lominsa but she still had a few things worth keeping safe. The heavy wood creaked open at her touch and she withdrew something nearly as tall as her, carefully wrapped in burlap and twine. She had hardly touched it since Windsoul and his friends helped her retrieve it from a cursed burrow deep beneath the Shroud. That it was even there to begin with was a travesty and insult, one that she wondered if Hrathi even knew. The pitiful tome she had relied on for most of her time in Eorzea laid on the bed beside the ones Kiryuu brought with him: studies on aether and the nature of fire, plucked from the shelves of the Ossuary. She gave her prize a few quick tugs and twists, letting its wrappings fall to the floor as she turned to cross it again, and laid that down as well: a black staff of uncertain make, smooth like steel but light as wood. She remembered how it seemed to hum in the Witch's hands, how the black coils and curves seemed to shine in oily shades of emerald and heliotrope. The girl's neck snapped like a twig in the warrior's hands. Surely she knew she had slim chance of walking away and she put up a surprising fight when it became apparent that the ruse was not quite good enough. Her strikes and blows combined with Delial's spells hardly even made the man flinch. Killing the man would have been the better option than letting him run free but that was clearly beyond their capabilities. It was only a matter of time, Delial was certain, before he ceased to be amused by them. Sooner or later, his blade would be at their throats. It was her birthright, her key to a power she had not even the decency to devote herself to in her youth when still she had teachers willing to put up with her delinquency. "There is fire in your veins," the Witch was always fond of reminding her though she rolled her eyes and dismissed her wisdom. The staff laid there before her dull and silent, the orb that crowned holding a particular shade of cold grey better suited to tombstones and crypts. Useless.

Super Mario RPG was incredibly important to me and I blame it for giving me the first bud of a very weird appreciation for bad guys and bad guys chumming up with good guys. Also, it was just so fun and the music was so good. I only really wanted a PS1 because of Masters of Teras Kasi (I'll fite u I was great at that game)but not long after that a friend insisted I try this FF7 thing. While that was great, I think Breath of Fire 3 was the one that ended up having a bigger impact on me. It was the first BoF game I played so I didn't have the context that the others might have given me but I was still amazed with the mythology and the world. I am still a sucker for deities and gods and they ways they conflict or grow with each other and their lessers. Xenogears was incredible to me for so many reasons and I am still mad with someone I knew for throwing the copy I lent her away. SO MAD. ICO and Katamari Damacy happened when I was in high school so kinda borderline childhood I guess but they definitely deserve mention each.

[video=youtube] Bonus: [video=youtube]

The days became long and grey. Not because of the changing season, no; Ala Mhigo knew war once more for the first time since they tried to take the forests to the south. Yet it was not elementals and the pale-skinned southerners who hid behind them that they were fighting but rather themselves. Mother remained tight-lipped upon it, preferring instead to shake her head and pace about the house. One sun, Delial took to watching her, trying to read something in the routes she took and the soft words she muttered. After several bells and no logic found, she gave up. The drapes were kept drawn and the windows shut. No one was to answer the door unless it was knocked upon just the right way. It did not matter, for no one knocked anyway. Their street was rarely a busy one by any means even in better times: the carts and wagons passed through now and again usually in time with the seasons when the crops from outside the city proper were ready to be sold within, and when livestock was ready for the market. When Delial was brave enough to peek outside she saw mostly warriors with swords and spears. On the better days, there were no bodies at all. The family last shared their dinner table several nights before but it had remained largely unoccupied since. Conversation was clipped and stiff when her brothers took it upon themselves to relieve the rest of them from the stifling silence. Their father remained as a storm cloud throughout: dark, oppressive, and simmering at the edges with crackles of lightning and the underlying roll of thunder yet to be unleashed. He stared hard between his sons as he silently chewed his meat and his bread. Garren was not a man of strong emotion but even Delial could tell there was something troubled rushing beneath the hard grey of his eyes. He had all but confessed when he failed to meet her gaze over and over and over again. The next morning they were gone. Lyra left plates and crusts of bread and utensils scattered on the table, as though that might ease some of the loneliness away. After Mother snapped at Delial the first time, she ceased trying to clean it up. They took their meals with the bones of meals passed, neither willing to speak of the happenings outside their door. She gave her daughter tasks instead. On on sun, Delial was made to pore through jars and bundles of dried herbs until she could recognize at least half by scent alone. On another, Lyra sat her before a row of twelve candles and told Delial she would not eat until she had lit every single one with a word. Mother watched when she did not pace, and did not interfere save to blow out a candle for every bell that went by. By mid-day, Delial was exhausted and starving and had only two candles lit to show for it. They sat together for lunch and watched the flickering wicks and Delial knew her mother’s eyes were upon the ten that remained absent of flame. When she approached her mother with her conundrum, Lyra braved a smile. “Can you not feel them, duckling?” she asked, looking over her daughter as though she wanted nothing more in the world than to remain distracted by her presence. The melancholy caught up with her quickly enough, however, and it was with a pat on Delial’s head that she returned to her restless motions. Delial was still vexed, but she did not trouble her mother further. There were ten candles yet to be lit and several long bells before supper. When she could not hear her mother padding about the far end of the house, she moved to quietly gather their plates. One or two drawn away from the haphazard settings would not draw mother’s ire, no, and they had need for-- It was the chill she felt before she turned. She could not stop herself despite the alarm screaming in her head. Delial knew that her fingers had failed her somewhere along the way, that in her fright she had withdrawn her hands from the plates she balanced upon them, and she braced herself for the inevitable shock of ceramic shattering upon old wooden floors. It never came. Her ears rang regardless. Tall, black, willowy, a figure bent with a spider-legged hand holding a perfectly stacked pair of plates by the ends of curved nails. Stormy eyes (lidless they must have been, piscine, deep as the heart of the oldest sea) fixed upon the frightened child before her, and then mercifully slithered to take in the candles flickering weakly atop the table. “This,” said the Witch, “Shall not do.” Her mother was calling her name, soft and and indistinct as if heard from above the surface of a deep, black lake. The Witch did not smile, exactly: it was more of a grimace of lips cracked into a sharp tear in a sharper face, a twitch of instinct that reached beyond things like amusement or pleasure. “I wait,” she rasped and sighed and growled. “Delial?” “Come.” Plates shattered at her feet. There was no trace of the Witch save but for the chill that clung to her skin, but even that was quickly shorn away as panicked footsteps slapped around the corner and the warmth of her mother’s embrace overtook her. In the absence of that spectral thing, Delial felt her eyes tugged down admit the ruined shards of dinnerware. Glinting from the center of shards near perfectly arranged like petals on a brittle, jagged flower, shone a tiny round clasp of silver.

Delial is a terrible dancer, but she loves dancing. She is a far better singer, but she hates singing. She has a soft spot for babies and is both mystified and terrified of the prospect of maybe someday having one of her own. They're so small and pitiful and if you drop one it'll probably break! Animals put her on edge. She is secretly convinced that they will somehow deem her a Terrible Person and go out of their way to be difficult, so if she has the choice, she will leave handling them to other people. Even her own chocobo, Vigil, has always been very testy with her and seemed to prefer the company of others. The easiest way to get on her good side is to bring her offerings: bottles of wine, books, beautiful little things. They don't even have to be worth anything. She just likes to imagine she commands that sort of presence that others would bring her gifts before seeking her words or her wisdom or whatever else they might want. It's an ego thing, probably.

Wind-Up Delial It is a mystery why anyone would have thought to construct a tiny ode to the Kinslayer, but the details put into it are remarkably well made. Too well made, one could say. Keep clear of sharp objects.

Hats Online was my favorite for a long time. I might have to check this out...