Roen

You know? I didn't even see the anagram thing. Until it was pointed out to me. ICly. *stare*

Ah yes. I've missed the silliness that is this thread.

BUT... she's really ANNOYED!

Now he is just trying to push my buttons. Roen was not going to give him the satisfaction. She maintained her best placid expression, the edges of her lips pulled tightly to hide a frown. But she never was good at deception, she knew this. A part of her expected him to see right through her pretenses despite her efforts, and that only annoyed her further. Trying not to look annoyed when every senses prickled with irritation was harder than she thought. Although, there was a small part of her that found the whole situation comically ironic. After being kidnapped, imprisoned and poisoned, it was a smug smirking pirate of all things who would test her patience. It actually felt refreshing--in that infuriating sort of a way--just to be irked, without some enormous weight of dread and despair pressing down upon her shoulders. Roen quickly set that musing aside and turned her focus to the plan instead, pondering on what to do next. Working with the smuggler did not mean she had to like him or that they even had to get along. His ideas had merit and it would avoid needless violence. If things went smooth, they could potentially spread the wealth to allow other honest merchants some reprieve from the Blades taxation and entrance fees. She secretly wanted to find a flaw in his plan, just for argument’s sake, but she could find none. She had to at least admit that Nero seemed to know what he was doing. She found that a little annoying too. “I can introduce you to Broken Nose.” The paladin cleared her throat, breaking the silence that had fallen while she considered his plan. “He can likely get a copy of the list for us, and point out who they get it from.” She squinted up at the midday sun, although it was not the brightness of the sky nor the searing heat that made her frown. She recalled that the Roegadyn Blade in question had been there for the arrest of Nero’s crew. “I doubt he would remember you from the raid,” Roen murmured under her breath. She was fairly certain that none who had accompanied her--Natalie, Kage, Coatleque, nor Broken Nose--actually saw Nero there long enough to be able to recognize him. His crew had been quick to make their retreat in the chaos that ensued, although Daegsatz suffered an injury that delayed his escape. So long as Broken Nose did not know that Nero was the missing captain they were looking for, their meeting would stay uneventful--and perhaps even be profitable for both sides. “Then your people can forge a new list, and we just have to switch it out with the original without anyone else knowing.” It sounded simple enough when she said it.

“I… that is not what I…” Roen sputtered, feeling sudden heat rising to her cheeks. She stopped abruptly, and found herself staring incredulously at the man. Her lips parted as if to say something, then shut tightly as she calmed the indignation that burned her insides. He is mocking me. She thought as she narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. She knew that Nero thought her naive and her ideals impractical. But strangely enough, more he tried to prove that things like justice and fairness were abstract and useless, more stubbornly she clung onto them. She would defend them out loud, even if a part of her knew that the world was not fair; far too many eluded justice, especially in Ul’dah. “As you said, if I was not going to consider any other means, you and I would not be talking.” She threw his words back at him. She heard her own voice starting regain some semblance of control, and for that she was glad. She was certainly not going to let this smuggler shame her into denying her beliefs or thinking her hopes were foolish, even if his words made them sound like simple stories told to a child. “And of this list maker. He must be in regular contact with his employers. For him to maintain the list, he must get his orders from someone else. More Monetarists? The Syndicate?” Roen shrugged at him with a pointed look, as if challenging him for answers. He thought her naive, she wanted to know what ideas he had to offer. A part of her recognized then that he had gotten under her skin more than she’d care to admit. She paused and took a breath in and let her arms fall back to her sides. “Getting rid of that list altogether is not a bad idea.” She sighed and acquiesced before he could respond, no longer a tone of exasperation drawing tension to her jaw. “How do we get rid of it without his employers being any wiser?”

That smirk of his never wavered. It was the smuggler she was dealing with. Of course, it is. Roen reminded herself, dismissing that slight tug of disappointment in the back of her mind. She nodded, at least relieved that he was not intent on ‘taking care of the Blades’ in any lethal fashion. Nero seemed to know them well enough to know that they did hold grudges. She was hunted down for desertion at one point after all. “Well, if you do not want to go by the legal means of outing the corrupt Blades who confiscated your goods, and you wish to continue to transport goods in and out of the city…” Roen crossed her arms, her head bowing in thought as she searched her memory. “You need to get on a list. I never saw it myself, but Broken Nose and other higher ranked Blades had one. It was given to those who conducted caravan inspections.” “I assume you are not on that list?” The paladin peered back up at the smuggler. “Or least… not after that raid.” She grimaced, the reminder of what did not go right with that arrest still a salt on an open wound. She shook her head quickly as if to not dwell on it. “What are you proposing then?”

I have retired main characters in the past, once I felt that their story was complete. But it took years for me to do so, because I usually start them off with plenty flaws, or young, or naivete to work through. I have created characters with a specific purpose or story in mind, and those characters do not last quite as long. They could be side characters to a particular plot or villains, and I expect them to have a finite life. Their ending I have vaguely in my head at creation, and I am happy to say goodbye to them once they've reached it. But mains, I leave a lot of things to chance and interactive RP because that's what I enjoy. Letting the storyline influence and change the character as they grow. So it takes me awhile to get to that point where I feel that their story is complete. I have said "well, I've done that... but what else can I explore with --" and think up an arc that way. If no answer comes to you after you say "What else can I explore with--" then perhaps the story is complete. I agree with Verad, do not play for other people's sake, it can get boring. However, I have also taken part in other people's arcs and been inspired by their story, enough for it to move me. And that can serve as a new source of inspiration. So I guess my answer is, you don't HAVE to retire your character if it is still fun for you to play her, since who knows what will come along down the road. But soon as it gets to be not fun, then put her aside, and concentrate on something new. You can always bring your character out of retirement in the future if a new inspiration hits you.

The shade provided by the small alcove was a welcomed respite, and the trees provided just enough barrier to keep much of a dusty winds that roamed the barren landscape at bay. It was where she came to find some moments of solitude when she patrolled as a Brass Blade. It allowed her to see the beautiful sunsets that would brilliantly paint the sky every night, but also lent her the view of the towering walls of the Jewel--as well as all the people those walls kept out. It was a stark reminder of where her duties lay. The fact that Nero’s gaze also came to linger on the poverty... it made her pause. His stated intentions to help those that the city had tossed aside and rejected were clear enough; he spoke of his desire on more than one occasion, and today he sought her aid for it. She would never reject such a request for help, of course, but of late she had learned not to simply take everyone’s word at face value. So why then did she believe this man whom she barely knew anything about? It was because of those rare moments--those small points in time when that lighthearted veneer faded just for an instant, to allow a glimpse of the somber and almost sorrowful man underneath. That side of him never stayed on the surface for long, but it was just enough for her to trust her instincts. Even if she suspected that there was a part of him that sought some kind of personal gain in all this, whether it be--power, profit, or even revenge--she had made up her mind to help him when she shook his hand many suns ago. “Brass Blades…” Roen nodded as she pondered over the details of his dilemma. The news of his goods being confiscated did not surprise her one bit. “I know one who may help us. I used to be assigned to his unit. After I was…” she paused. Some memories were still difficult. She started again. “After I left, I heard that he had himself transferred to work with Brass Blade of the Rose.” Roen gave Nero a sidelong glance. She hesitated in mentioning that Broken Nose, the Roegadyn Brass Blade that she was speaking of, was also part of the raid that got his First Mate arrested. She had called upon some Brass Blades that she considered allies to help with the arrest of Taeros’ men. Roen could still remember the look of sympathy that Broken Nose bore her when she returned after her incident with Captain Anduron. The Roegadyn changed her assignment from inspecting caravans, to patrols amongst the refugee camps. He made sure that she reported to him rather than the unforgiving Captain, and they even exchanged quiet words a few times at the end of their shift. She learned that he was a lowly born citizen of Ul’dah, working to make a life for himself. Once he had been ambitious, but now he just wanted to survive day to day; he followed, as expected, the system of extortion and bribery that was the everyday expectation of any Brass Blade. But Broken Nose finally admitted that she did not belong with the Blades, and that he did not always agree with the Captain’s way of doing things. Yet there was some measure of pride within the Roegadyn of being a Brass Blade, and after her departure, that pride led him to join with Lalafellin Blade, Fufulupa, and the Brass Blade of the Rose. “I could ask my contact to see where we might be able to find your property.” Roen tapped her lips in thought. “If we can catch the goods in a storage area before they are sold to another party, we may be able to recover them.” She gave Nero another sidelong glance, her brows drawn low with warning. “But I am not willing to kill any Blade, Nero. Corrupted or not, those Blades would still raise their swords against any Amalj’aa.” Roen turned to face him, searching the man’s sky blue eyes to try and see the man she was speaking to. Was it the ambitious and ruthless smuggler? Or was it the man who, she hoped, wished for some righteousness to prevail? She was almost expecting him to argue for violence. It was the quicker and perhaps the easier way. But the right way, was rarely ever easy. “If we can find where they are stored, and stop the transaction, we can let Broken Nose and Fufulupa know of them," she finished quietly. "The Brass Blade of the Rose can handle it internally.”

Roen furrowed her brows slightly, although a grin did threaten to rise. She could see that the resentment and the determination that had burned in Nero's eyes the last time they spoke had been replaced by a cheery disposition, and that roguish smirk was back in place. "Fortune tellers of the evident and obvious." She canted her head as she echoed his words with a note of skepticism. "Next thing you are going to tell me is that it is going to be hot tomorrow?" Her own amused smile gave way to a rueful expression soon enough. "Ah. The linkpearl. Apologies." She dug through her satchel to withdraw the small box he had given her. She opened it and plucked out the pearl from within, inserting into her ear. Although when she glanced back at him, she made another face, realizing the futility of the effort now. “Anyroad…” Roen said sheepishly as she looked around, rubbing the back of her neck. She was familiar enough with the refugee camps, enough to know the pockets within that she considered safe from prying eyes and ears. Roen and Nero had been careful enough not to be seen within the city together, at least to keep up the pretense that he was still a smuggler for Taeros. But now, she was not so sure where the Limsan pirate stood with the Monetarists. She gestured toward a pathway that would weave around a few tents, leading to an isolated alcove of trees. It would be just enough removed from the crowd for a private conversation. “I saw Daegsatz this morn.” She said quietly as she passed by him, giving him a reassuring nod. “He seems none worse for wear. Although I think he prefers his own bed to that of the gaols.” She left it that that, for there were no other news. Natalie and Coatleque were still looking for Taeros to interrogate him, and until they did so, Nero’s first mate had to stay put in the dungeons. “But he sends his regards,” she added after a pause. It was not quite the Sea Wolf’s exact words, but the sentiment was there. From what little she could gather of the smuggler and the Roegadyn, she could see that the two cared for each other’s welfare. Roen stepped onto the path, looking about cautiously, then waited for him to follow.

"There. How does that feel?" The Highlander child looked back up at her, his dark skin starkly offsetting sky-blue eyes which shone brightly under the Thanalan sun. He could have been no older than six cycles, and yet there was already a hint of keen wisdom in his eyes--a wisdom born from the hard life of a refugee. He inspected his arm where the cut had been, his small lips pursed in scrutiny. When he turned back to her, he bore her a bright smile. “All better!” “See, Sayer? There was nothing to be scared of.” Roen grinned back at him, her hand lightly playing with the beads that were woven onto the ends of his blonde braided locks. Even in poverty, the Ala Mhigans took painstaking care to display their heritage proudly. Sayer was a malnutritioned, nearly emaciated boy, but none would ever mistake him for anything else than a child of Ala Mhigo. And perhaps it was because of that proud and stubborn heritage that Roen had been able to goad him into letting her use conjury on his infected cut, despite his distrusting nature of magic. It also helped that he knew her from her days of patrolling through the camps as a Brass Blade, when she came upon him being bullied by older bigger children. They ran as soon as they spotted her, and she had made a friend that day when she shared her lunch with the small child. “I said I wasn’t scared,” Sayer reminded her quickly, his face scrunching up with protest. He hopped down from the box they were both seated upon and held up two fists, bouncing lightly on his feet. “I’ve been gettin’ better! And now those boys come at me, I’ll be ready fer ‘em!” He threw a couple of air punches in her direction and showed off his fiercest look. Roen laughed and held up her hands. “I surrender!” When Sayer paused with a beaming smile, she reached into her satchel and withdrew a wrapped package. “Here is some dried meat and an orange, fresh from La Noscea!” Sayer’s blue eyes went wide as saucers as he snatched the package from her hand. He peeked inside the cloth wrapping to make sure of the contents within -- suspicious boy he was -- before he blinked back at Roen. “For me? And ma?” Roen nodded. “Aye, go share with your ma.” She watched with a contented sigh when the boy scampered off, eager to show his new prize to his mother. Roen’s smile slowly faded as the small figure disappeared into the dusty throng of Stonesthrow, as more gaunt figures blocked her view. "Have you ever looked into the eyes of a child, begging her mother not to sell them to a noble? Have you never seen that same mother hoping dearly that the noble might grant her child a worthwhile life, all the same hoping her child is not beaten too severely in the noble's house?" His words echoed in her memory as her attention drifted from one refugee to another. A crying babe in a woman’s arms. A man huddled on a thin rug laid on the ground. Another emaciated girl trying to stoke a fire under a pot of watery stew. There was a kind of hopelessness that weighed upon the shoulders of every person she looked upon, like thick metal links of quiet despair that chained their strength and their spirit to the ground. Roen thought she knew the adversity they faced. But it was not until Nero spoke those words, his expression darkened with bitterness, that she realized she had never fully bore witness to their plight. Now her visits to the refugee camps were colored in a new light, as if she was seeing things through a newly focused lens. Sayer will never have to beg his mother. Not if I have any say in it. Was that why she was here? To visit that child? To share the small meal that was her lunch? And offer her conjury to whomever needed it? And what good were her efforts, when they were still but drops in a barrel? But that was why she had agreed to an alliance with a smuggler, was it not? Nero Lazarov had openly admitted he was a criminal, after all. It was because she believed his words that he wanted to better Ul’dah. She had tailed him in an effort to gain evidence against him and Jameson Taeros, only to find out that he too was plotting against the Monetarist noble. They even collaborated to lure Taeros into a trap and catch his men with illegal contraband, but that became complicated when Nero’s crew was not able to get away, and his first mate was wounded and arrested, along with Taeros’ men. Roen wondered if the contraband was enough to arrest Taeros. Both Natalie and Coatleque seemed to believe Taeros’ side of things when it came to the somnus affair--his claim that he was being framed and that he had nothing to do with her poisoning. But Roen could not forget that he was responsible for disgracing three Sultansworns, and for trying to lure Gharen out to be killed. And Delial had linked him with the Garlean woman Banurein. Roen was determined to find the truth behind Taeros, with or without anyone’s help. But in investigating him on her own, the clues had led her to Nero. Roen could not discern his true motivations; she knew nothing about the man. But she could not help but be drawn by his desire to better Ul’dah, to fix what was broken, even if his ambitions to oust the Monetarists from their seat of power seemed impossible and foolish. And as she sat amongst the destitute and the sick, Roen could not deny that this was a greater need. Perhaps Taeros is only the first step. Roen sighed and rubbed her eyes, unsure of what to do next. But it was then that she spotted a figure that she did not expect to see. His black hair streaked with that strange orange hue was unmistakable. The long forelocks hid his eyes, but she recognized Nero easily enough. She rose from her seat and dusted herself off, wondering if he was here on his own business. Either way, she had promised to give him an update on his First Mate, Daegsatz, so she headed towards the man.

I see your bootknife and raise you one foot switchblade. I see your foot switchblade and raise you a machine gun leg. I hope this escalates. I see your machine gun leg and raise you a...

Roen has a cobalt winglet that her brother made for her. She takes meticulous care of it as well as her shield, which was issued to her when she did some work for the Immortal Flames. She has no family heirloom or artifacts, she ran away with nothing but clothes (stolen armor) on her back with whatever shield and sword she could grab at the time. She has recently been training in hand-to-hand combat and does have a pair of cesti to carry at her hips, but she has not gotten comfortable with them and would likely use her fists if it came to unarmed combat.

Because you want to do baaaaaaad things.

I think all my alt slots are full. And I am usually not up at 2am or whatever hour Balmung opens up for new characters. >.> So I guess law enforcement side it is! And no memes! Or jails! Or kidnapping!

Pfff... who did you think I meant when I volunteered above? ... How the heck did I miss your second post in this thread. :dazed:

I keep saying I am going to get involved in one of your shenanigans. I can help out with this!

D: A sappy romance movie that I have not watched? What is this?

“Acquittal?” Captain Jenlyns Straightblade arched a brow, looking up from the document in his hand to the woman who handed it to him. Ser Crofte stood at attention, posture rigid, professional; her hands were tucked behind her, her eyes staring straight ahead. When the Captain posed his question, her green eyes lowered to meet his. She nodded firmly. “Aye. Ser,” she said with certainty. “In light of Ser Deneith’s exemplary record, it would be a travesty to believe the accusations of one ex-spy without further evidence.” She stepped forward, nodding to indicate the pile of papers she had just laid out before him. “Especially when it is painfully clear that Ser Deneith is loyal to the City-state. She may be Garlean in her mind, but she is certainly Eorzean in her heart.” Jenlyns noted the confidence in both her tone and posture as she spoke. It was something that he had not seen before, since her promotion into her current ranking. He smiled inwardly and tapped the parchments together. “And what of the testimony of the ex-Garlean spy?” “Recanted. Ser. Kage Kiryuu conducted the interview and is processing the corrected testimony.” Jenlyns pinched the bridge of his nose. “He was an unreliable witness all along.” “Indeed, ser.” “And what of the aether poison found in her cell? The one that was of Garlean make?” He had already read her report on the matter, but he wanted to hear it from her in person. The Captain regarded the woman carefully. “As you know, ser, Ser Besten was found murdered. While it is a shame that one of our own was lost, and the investigation into his death is still ongoing, it does throw a suspicious light onto his involvement in Deneith’s case.” She narrowed her eyes in thought. “Were it just the poison that was found, it would put Ser Deneith’s innocence in a poor light, but she was also poisoned with a near-fatal dose of somnus. Someone clearly wanted her dead, ser.” “Hm.” Jenlyns leaned back against his heavy chair, fingers steepled. “And we do not know who.” Ser Crofte shook her head, but did not waver in her argument. “I consider that a separate matter, and one that should not have any bearing on Ser Deneith’s innocence. She has only cooperated with me since she surrendered herself, and I believe her, ser. I will give my own testimony to her behavior, her character, and my own belief of her innocence. I also have listed the names of others who are willing to do the same.” The Captain looked at the document on his desk for a long time, his brows furrowed in thought. “If I may… ser.” The Highlander woman broke the silence. “After this Jin’li disaster and the attempt on the Sultana’s life, you know me to be loyal to her Grace. I would give my life for her. I believe Ser Deneith to be of the same heart. She helped Mergrey infiltrate a Castrum to retrieve the device that held us captive to that madman’s whims. I would trust the Sultana’s life to my ward without fail.” Jenlyns let out a long exhale, casting an expectant look on her. “Your recommendations?” Ser Crofte straightened again in attention, her chin lifted. “With the recanting of Cicero’s statement of the conspiracy at the mines, and with the addition of Shaelen Stormchild’s testimony that Gharen Wolfsong was also unaware of the ceruleum theft, I recommend that the accusations of conspiracy be stricken from the records of the three Sultansworns involved, and their suspensions lifted. And exoneration of Ser Deneith from the accusations of being a Garlean spy.” “Bold.” Jenlyns considered that, letting the silence fall between them. The Highlander woman waited patiently in attention, but her countenance remained calm. Almost undaunted. She is growing into her role. “Granted,” he said finally. Crofte’s expression broke into a bright grin, before she quickly cleared her throat and subdued her obvious joy of triumph. “Good work, Crofte.” He tapped a finger on the documents. “I am going to keep Mcbeef under your command.” When she gave him an odd look in question, he answered back with a wry expression of his own. “You two made a good team for once. And…” He could not hide the amusement in his tone. “She can submit her reports to you now.” When it looked like she wanted to say something, he continued. “Having someone under your command will make you think of their welfare, and their actions will also reflect upon you. It lends a new perspective on things, Crofte.” He knew this was the next appropriate step for her own growth. “Dismissed,” Jenlyns said as he returned to whatever random paper that was in front of him. But as she saluted and pivoted for the door, he looked back up to the woman. “And file the report regarding Wolfsong with the Immortal Flames as well. I suppose he is no longer a wanted man either. I will inform Taeros.” Jenlyns furrowed his brows at the thought. “Also inform the Blades. Kiryuu and Deneith are both welcome to return to duty when able.” “Yes, ser.” Crofte turned and saluted again before ducking out of his office.

Very nice. *nods*

Roen would not choose either options. She would never wish harm on her loved ones no matter what good she can accomplish with the other two. She would never be able to make that choice. But even wishing harm on herself for the good of others... would not be something she would accept. Because she does not trust or believe in wishes. She is a firm believer in that you carve your path and your fate. But then when life throws a curveball at you despite your best efforts, you deal with it as it comes. This last belief has been really tested in her latest ordeals. She deals with things as best as she can, sometimes leaving things to others, having faith in what she believes them to be, and sometimes taking things on herself to make things as she believes they should be. (vague I know) To wish something for someone else, it is almost as if you take their fate and their path away from them to wish them a certain end. That would not be something she would ever wish for, or believe it is the right thing to do. Even if she loved them dearly.

I second this motion. Edit: YAY Highlanders!

NEVERRR. I WILL win this race. Hm. I wonder how Zhavi and I will stalk each other simultaneously. And Kink is a great read. *doing research*

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!! You already know I love What If scenarios!! But I have to finish the first writing challenge first! GUH.

Tiergan, that's gorgeous. Yet again. I almost wish I could get another portrait... Except I love the one you did for me already. Couldn't really ask for anything else.

I know. All. Those. Threads. Zhavi is the forum RP queen. :tonberry: