Roen

That woman looks NOTHING LIKE ME.

Brynnalia pursed her lips with an amused smirk. "See Warren? We are no longer strangers. Ye know me already." She tapped her lips twice with her perfectly trimmed nail, green eyes looking about. "But I will find out what I need to know, eventually." "But one thing ye can do for me. And for Momodi's sake. It would warm my heart to know I know at least one friendly soul here. A paladin to boot. How about dinner? One of Momodi's best dishes." She gestured about the room. "Since ye diligently watch this place, ye must have recommendations. Perhaps with candlelight? Wine always tastes better in dim lighting." She spied the initials near him again. "Lest it offends anyone."

The bard canted her head, arching both brows. "Ohh? A hero's tale ye say. Sacrifice and glory. And a woman, even better." She slid closer to the man. "Do tell." "Who is this hero of the Jewel?"

Her head was turned away from him, as Brynn allowed her gaze to linger towards the bar, but a knowing grin slowly curled upon her lips at his apology. When she turned back around, it is with her best self-effacing expression in place as she blinked back at him. "Well then, Warren. Let us not be strangers. For Momodi's sake. Give this bard some tales to tell at her next gathering?" She took a step towards him with an easy smile, placing a hand on her hip. "I have heard of the troubles that have plagued the Jewel of late. But as I look around, it still stands in all its majesty. Despite the nasty tales of poisons and treachery. Those supposedly loyal to the Sultana turning against her even! I trust ye had some heroic hand in it all? It would make for a great story."

Brynnalia chuckled lightly, putting a hand daintily against her chest. "Ye wound me! I would not know ye from..." She glanced about, then gestured with her nearly empty wineglass to the gingered haired Highlander at the table with the Miqo'te Blade. "From that forlorn soul over there. Much less heard any tales of yer duties or yer past. And ye have not shared much at all, at least not with me." She rolled her tanned shoulders, the fluffy white sleeves rustling softly. Her easy smile did not fail, but she furrowed her brows in slight disappointment. "Ye obviously wish not for my company. I merely sought to enjoy a game of words with my glass of wine. And maybe a bit of gossips and news. I'd not been back in Ul'Dah but a day after being away for many moons." She lazily drained the rest of her glass and set the empty glass onto a passing barmaid's tray when she passed. "I am obviously keeping ye from more important affairs." She glanced over her shoulders towards the general direction of the bar. "Ye have my apologies, Warren."

She clucked her tongue, shaking her head at him with a shake of a finger. "Tsk tsk. Evading my question about the letters still. Very well. Play the coy game." She cocked her head to one side, now eying him up and down unabashedly. "Ye be right. I don't need yer palm. Ye wear what ye are plain on ye as that armor." She first reached for his arm, pressing hard to gauge what lay beneath the armor in between the plates. As if she was studying well raised Chocobo. "Well trained. I bet ye put a lot of important to yer duty. Daily routine as matter of fact." She swayed closer to him, fingers lifting and tracing the braided hair that fell by his cheeks. "Disciplined. But traditional." That same finger then traced his jawline. "Much too set. Stubborn. I bet that has gotten ye into trouble some." She leaned in then, nose almost meeting nose, her eyes narrowed intently. "And ye've been hurt before." She tilted her head. "More than once." There was a small lopsided curl to her lips. "Still. Willing to risk it again, I'd wager. Foolish man." She pulled back and shrugged teasingly. "Well? Did I hit the target?"

"I know." There was obvious mirth in her roguish grin. "But that's the fun of it. The dance." "Now, I have read people's palms before. Do ye know ye can derive meaning from the slightest things? A callous on the finger. A line on a palm. The slightest shift of the glance." She gave him a pointed look. "Or lack thereof." She shrugged as she pushed off the pillar she had trapped him against, taking a step back to gaze upon the initials once more. "Ye can make anything mean something if ye wished. If the desire was there. It matters not who wrote it. As long as ye want it." Green eyes peered back up at him. "Lest ye wish nothing of the sort."

"Oh I do, indeed." Brynn purred, amusement not leaving her eyes that studied him still. "It is what makes me a good songstress." She narrowed her eyes, her grin widening as she spotted the challenge. A dare behind his eyes. Not backing down? Neither was she. She leaned even closer. "Come now, Warren. I do have an eye for this sort of thing. Gallant paladin like ye, so eager to come to someone's rescue... aye? And yet a Highlander. We all know of the passions and unbending will that runs in our veins. The fact that ye protest so much of those silly scrawls already give ye away." "Then again," she shrugged with another long drawn out sigh. "Mayhap I'm wrong in this. Mayhap ye are just a handsome Highlander in white shining armor, and ye stand there all by yer lonesome on the pillar in yer solitary watch. In a tavern. Mayhap... ye just need a little company."

The Highlander bard did not allow Kage to come to anyone's defense. The chink in the man's armor was revealed, even if it was a small glimpse. She uncrossed her legs and came to stand in front of him, her free hand reaching past his shoulder as she rested it against the pillar, effectively trapping him there. Her smile was coy. "Oh. So. There was a kiss." She tilted her head to one side, eyeing his lips openly. She smirked. "I suspect... a chaste one. Aye?" She tapped her wineglass against his breastplate.

"Mmm," the bard hummed and flashed an easy grin at Warren as he returned. "No wonder someone took a blade to the wall to scrawl yer names." She gestured to the pair of initials on the pillar with the hand that did not nurse the wineglass. "Why, how ye swept in to the dear damsel in distress, it would set a maiden's heart aflutter!" She lightly tapped her chest with an exaggerated sigh. Her expression quickly returned to that of amusement and mischief. "So Warren. Any intentions on fulfilling the wishes of yer adoring fans? A curious bard wants to know."

The Highlander bard followed Kage's gaze to a pair of initials that marred the pillar. She arched one slender brow. "Hm," she hummed, hooking one foot over the other, her anklets giving a small jingle as well. "Neither of them seem to be the type to make such pronouncements. They rather seem... the chaste sort." She swirled her wineglass by her cheek, as if that afforded their conversation some privacy. "Ye say, they have fans?"

Brynnalia rarely missed things happening around her. Especially the speed to which the all-business paladin rushed to the fallen woman's side. She leaned one shoulder against the pillar once more, giving the those huddled by the bar a lingering glance. "Tales ye ask..." She said absently, still watching those by the bar a moment longer before she flicked her glance to the Miqo'te Blade. "I have been traveling about mostly. I stayed away from the Jewel due to some horrid rumors of plague and deaths about the city, but after hearing that there were heroics and battles about... and the fact that Ul'Dah still stood, I thought to return here to find some inspiration." She shrugged. "I need to find looser tongues however, if I am to get much gossip." Green eyes wandered towards the bar again but she slid slightly closer to Kage, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Say, Kage. Who is that drunken woman that they are hovering over?"

"Psh." The bard snorted. "How little ye know of my craft. Aye, the glorious victories make men and women cheer. But ye know why they want the hero win? Because they feel for 'em. Ye need to tell them the heart of the hero. It is only then that the sword of legends matter." She took a languid sip of her dark wine, then pushed off the pillar to glance squarely at the paladin then the Blade in turn. She quirked a grin. "Brynnalia Callae." She feigned half a bow. "At no one's service this eve. Most call me Brynn."

She tilted her wineglass just slightly, her fingernail tapping against the glass twice. "Ye never know where the inspiration lies. Why, once I was inspired by my 'Bo! Beautiful, faithful, yet a fickle thing." She rolled her shoulders lazily. "I am certain ye have tales of bravery and heroics. Is that not what ye paladins and soldiers do? Throw y'selves at some danger for the sake of others? Foolish thing, but... it makes for great ballads and tales to tell to an enraptured audience." "Pray tell, Warren." She let his name roll off her lips with a bit of a tease. "What was this pressing matter that kept ye away from yer solemn duty upon this pillar?"

Welcome to Balmung! I know Quicksand is often bustling and busy, and there are some players who are also fostering RP in Limsa! I've ran into random RP in Gridania as well. And as you already know, people in these forums are great so I would suggest just hitting them up for arranged RP if you see anyone you want to meet! That's how I got started in Balmung. I have no doubt you will have fun!

You know... I think you got his hair JUST right.

She waved a hand into the air dismissively, her belled bracelets lightly jingling. "Just part of the ambiance this eve. I sing for pleasure and occasionally for gil, but of late I not in short of the latter." She curls a pleased grin. "And never enough of the former, of course." She gave Kage a sidelong glance. "Ser Castille. Ser Crofte. So formal." She rolled her eyes dramatically. "I prefer first names. I don't salute nor do I care for ... ranks. What do I call either of ye? In case I feel inspired to write a song or two later."

"Oh. Is that what these scratches are?" A voice rose from the other side of the pillar, with a lilting accent that was not distinct enough to be placed. A dark-haired Highlander rounded the thick wooden column, one hand nursing daintily a wine glass. Her green eyes glanced from the armored paladin to the Miqo'te Blade. "I was 'fraid my 'Bo had wandered in to find a scratch post." She clucked her tongue. "Instead I find that these are... what. Scribbles of lovestruck puppies? Romantic hopefuls?" She smirked as she leaned against the pillar, obviously not minding the proximity to both men. "I suppose that is why bards frequent taverns with our songs of ever lastin' love. They lap it all up so eagerly." She eyed the taller armored one. "Although how they get to makin' these carved pronouncements with ye standin' guard?"

I heard something about ... ...wait a minute. DAMMIT. It was a lure. *goes to remind herself what bara fandom is all about* I should have never posted that log.

This made me laugh.

You know Nat so well, Crofte. You two are indeed Riggs and Murtaugh. Or Turner and Hooch.

I found it quite amusing! Yes! YES! NO!

The raven-haired Highlander bard had fallen silent for a long time, simply enjoying her glass of wine as she resumed her seat, precariously balanced on the railing of the Quicksand. She had heard that lalafells had once perched in this very spot, and overlooking some of those gathered in the tavern, she could see why. She had happily listened as the chattered continued, wondering why everyone was sporting such a loose tongue that echoed their deepest thoughts. She had only taken part because it was fun, she had no such compunction. At least until the two that posed the most recent questions met each other's gaze. She took note with an arched brow. "Love and death. Within a breath of each other. Mm." She hummed. "One ponders one's end..." her green eyes sought out the broody Mister No-fun who had asked. "And the other ponders what cost one is willing to pay for love." She glanced to the redhead. She smirked. "Perhaps one answer applies to both. "I wish to face death with no regrets. No second thoughts. No what-ifs. I would spend that last week doing everything and anything I ever wanted to do. There shall be no man I would wonder what his lips felt like, no sweet delicacy I would not try, and no music I would not dance to." She leaned against the railing with one hand, her belled bracelets jingling. "I would ask to die in my bed, well fed, well loved, and in the arms of a handsome man that adored me." "No regrets, Miss Somber and Mister Serious." She raised her glass. "Love is a forbidden joy, meant to bring ye to yer knees, risk all that matters, and still bring ye heartbreak in the end. And yet, and yet it is still worth it all." Her eyes drift back to the brooding man with a slow nod. "Everything." She drained her glass of the last drop of the dark wine. "Or so the bards say when we sing of it."

I am happily watching along with Hornet. And glad to see this event post has taken off into more tangents and not about me anymore.

Hmm. Me thinks the Highlander male to whoever-is-summoned ratio needs to be much higher. *sage nod* (because I don't want to share) :tonberry: