Aya

[align=center][/align] [align=center][bløød and Sand][/align] [align=center][/align] Music - What does it mean to be an Ala Mhigan? It's rarely an academic question. Rather, it seems to cut to the bare bone in a way few others are capable. Big, dumb, trouble, vagrant, lazy. Refugee. Tough, strong, iron-willed. Dangerous. Every Ala Mhigan to be found in free land has abandoned his homeland in one way or another. That seems to be the rub. The salt in the wound. Its left a mark that doesn't want to rub off. And every Ala Mhigan know is, whether they'll admit it or not. Some its never seemed to bother. Minding his shop, the smithy Osvald is as happy and satisfied as he will be. As Ishgardian as he is Ala Mhigan, he was young enough to adjust, adapt, and start over. He found his life's calling in a trade. He'll be happy as long as he practices. Wherever that may be. To others it meant opportunity; a fresh start without all the strictures of established society. Raubhan, the mighty warrior become General. Never could he have found such power and influence in the land of his birth. The red-haired Bohanon, wild and free as he roams the streets of Ul'dah ruling the city a block at a time with the gang. But for some it means a past that can never be forgotten. One to be clung to, and whose recovery brings all other priorities into question. Kael has never forgotten the family estate. Never relinquished the claim to that which would be his. Entering middle-age he dreams of abandoning his young Ishgardian family to strive for glory and revenge in the homeland. To restore honor to their name, and return to their rightful place where their ancestors fought and died. And for others? It is a duty that demands nothing short of a zealous self-sacrifice. No greater cause could exist than revenge for the crime inflicted upon the nation and people. There is no chip too big for their shoulders. No excuse for a life outside the resistance; for the direction of any effort that is not targeted against the Garlean occupiers. Eva, red-haired and fierce. She has trained all her life for but one purpose: to return Ala Mhigo to its people. To expel, and destroy the Garleans. Prepared to die, there could be no more righteous cause in life. Then, there are those who wish they were like them. Heji, is her name. 'Hellion' more commonly. An Ala Mhigan in the classic mold: tall, powerful, fierce as the wind that batters that highland realm. She's known on the Sands for her strength and body--for her war cry, and ruggedness. But there's more to her than that: honed technique, experience, and a certain grace that under girds the ferocity. She's been a friend of mine for a long time. We were rivals once upon a time. When my career was ending, and hers just beginning. We won't discuss the record. We don't mention it any more. Vision stirring. Everything is... I've taken a new student some while back. And when she asked about unarmed training I knew there was no one better to engage for instruction. That's when I introduced the Hellion to the Fox. There was the Hellion, well over six foot of sculpted muscle. One side of her head shaved. Covered with menacing tattoos. And the Fox - with her manicured nails, and figure fit for sculpture. Red. Is that blood? My blood? Its all over the sand... I won't admit to being wrong. No, there was no better education I could have offered. The Fox is a quick student, though I'd have never believed it when I first met her. Neither as dainty nor as foolish as she seems. Numb... numb... bleary... But as the Hellion landed another blow I knew it had gone too far. An instructor doesn't land a punishing blow against a helpless student. Not with this sort of viciousness. Not long into this session she'd taken the Fox down with a quick sweep. It wasn't exactly a fair strike, from a professional with hundreds of bouts worth of experience, against a student focused on learning. And then she'd shifted gears, using the woman's momentary helplessness to force her into a blind submission with her fist. ........ "Enough!" I leapt from the stone where I'd been observing and strode out toward the pair. "Enough!" I hollered again. But the woman responded with yet another blow, this one directly to the face. This, you must understand, was strictly against the terms of our employment. The Fox makes her living with her face, more than anything, and she hadn't wanted to risk her living for this. Not yet, at least. Sure, I threatened her about it all the time. She didn't wear any protection. It raised the stakes. Kept her on her toes, as it were. But my threats were for show. To make her worry. To make her work harder. To keep her on edge. This was altogether different. This was punishment. "Damnit, Heji! Enough already, you know she's the one paying you!" The woman did stop. In a sense. She turned her attention to me. Rage burning in fierce eyes. "I'd do this for free, old man. Its what this bitch deserves!" For Twelve's sake. There's not enough gil in Lolorito's vaults for this. "What the hells are you on about, woman!? Get off her already!" By now Lunk had started up too. The big guy was always a little slow to get on his feet. I knew I might need the reinforcement. "Thinking she should just dance around the desert, looking pretty for all these gods-damned money-bags while we're fighting; DYING! for our homeland!" The Hellion had raised her voice to a shout. Just short of the war cry that had made her famous. I raised my oaken stick - what sort of weapon is that against a mistress of the unarmed arts you might ask? Lets not discuss the record of our past matches, okay? - and then I slammed it into the ground as hard as I could. That finally startled her into jumping to her feet. What was... that... sound... why can't I see? This was just fantastic, really. Why am I always surrounded by Ala Mhigans with all the damned chips on their shoulders? Everywhere I go it seems to be Ala Mhigans everywhere, and not a one of them seems to have any sense! "What sort of stupid shit is this?" I asked, incredulous. "Why aren't you out at Baelsar's Wall if its so important to you?" With that she took a mighty swing my way. I won't say that it was unexpected. Well, not entirely. The breeze that brushed against my cheek told me everything I had to know about her earnestness. "My brother just died up there, you son of a bitch!" Well. This didn't seem like it was going to end well. Where the hell was Lunk any... the sound of his mailed fist smashing into the Hellion gave me some joy, I'll freely admit. I... can... For a moment she sprawled onto the ground, and the big fella recoiled at what he'd done. It wasn't his style to gang up on someone, especially not a woman. The Hellion spit blood. She'd have it no other way. Rising to her feet she wiped her forearm along her lips. "Oh so now you want to fight, huh, fuck head? Going to defend your fairy princess, is that it?" She snarled. It wasn't a pleasant look, that one. "You know, there's one thing you just don't seem to understand." I said, as calmly as I could muster. "Oh, what's that old man?" she glared at me. I rested on my oaken stick. "She may look a might weak. But she likes nothing more than being underestimated. And..." "She's a spoiled bitch..." "She doesn't give up," I finished. "... just a bitch who's forgotten where she came! And I'm going to fuckin' give her a reminder she'll never forget!" The Hellion turned to look for the princess. But she never quite found her. The form of the kick was, I must say, perfect. She'd been taking her lessons well. The snap of her lower leg was directed precisely into tho back of the Hellion's knee. The larger woman crumpled in a surprised instant. But its not the initial strike that is the most important. The Hellion always stresses this. First you disrupt balance. You create the opening that allows you to get inside their defenses. Once inside it was the next move that was the most important. It must be aimed for victory, whatever the goal of the bout. From a pin, to a deathblow. It really didn't matter what the end result was, this was always the moment to strike for it. The lesson always seemed to sit well with the Fox. She'd told me once upon a time she'd lived among Wolves, and they taught her the same lesson. I had an inkling of what she meant. As the Hellions back touched the sand her assailant had already pounced. Her entire body was in the air. One arm locked the other in place. It was a fore-arm drop, aimed to the momentarily helpless woman's throat. With her full weigh behind it, it could have been the end. A crushed wind pipe and a painful death. The strike was pulled at the last moment. Instead the Fox locked her arm around the woman's neck. As the Hellion struggled against the sleep-hold a terrifying grin took hold of her curled lips. "So.. she has fight in her..." she rasped before passing out. We walked back toward the city in some silence. Lunk helped the Fox along, with that gentle concern of his. The price for the day's lesson had been steep. No poultice would handle this. No mere cosmetic could disguise the punishment suffered by her usually smiling features. We'd thrown her cloak over her as best we could. Not that anyone likely would have recognized her in this state. "You're going to need a healer..." I suggested, hoping she already knew of one to visit. "I know who..." she replied. And off we went. For some, to be Ala Mhigan is little more than an accident of fate. To others, it is the very meaning of life itself. But none who bear that name can fail to consider its importance. To them. To others. What of the Fox? Politics where never her game, as much a I could gather. She cares about people. A smile means more to her than an army. A satisfied life: in Ishgard, in Ul'dah, in Ala Mhigo, more than any ancient banner or name. The future more than history. That's my take, at least. But maybe you should just try asking her.

Amazing, Savo!

Weeeeelcome! Don't worry about making mistakes, just get out there and roleplay! Hope to see you around in game

I should be on between 20 to 23:30 CST today (3 hour queues. What can I do.) to hand out invites. Just send me a PM in-game around that time if I don't get to you then. ♥♥♥ Leggerless!

There should be! I haven't had the time to be on lately but I hope someone can invite, otherwise poke me in chat here or on Discord and we'll figure it out! I may have to give Chachi or some others invite privileges!

Hello and welcome! Is there anything you can tell us about your character, or what sort of RP you are interested in? Social, adventure, business, criminal, military, piracy, or whatever it is that's catching your interest?

♥ Zhavi! ♥ I actually don't feel like Balmung has only one "hub" and that hub is around the Quick Sand. There was a time that was true. When you could sit in Gridania all day and never observe any RP occurring in public. There is simply so much RP these days that you can find in anywhere if you're looking. There are also settings all over the world, and an unbelievable variety created by player housing. Its the last part I think that is actually the greatest obstacle to creating another outer-world hub as busy as Ul'dah. People like having control over their RP environment and housing allows that. So instead of having dozens of RPers crowding the area around the Wench in Limsa, they're more likely gathered around a more dispersed group of locations in player housing areas. Nonetheless, what Zhavi's said is true. What creates hubs is the expectation that if you go to a place there will be RP there. That only takes player effort to create. On the idea of "road" based RP. Walking RP is sadly very difficult to do in this game. Some sort of auto-group walk feature would be really handy for that.

Exactly what Virella said! Its a very rich background, but it should not be thought if in the sense of the nobility of Ala Mhigo being expected to march back into Gyr Abania and lead their people to victory. The relationship between the nobles and the remnants of the region's population is complicated to say the least.

The Nobles who managed to survive the reign of the King of Ruin are all compromised in some way. To have survived they crossed lines they should not have crossed, they sacrificed, they scrounged, wheeled, dealed, and somehow managed to not be purged. Some turned and helped ouster him as well, but whatever societal compact had been in place seems to have been shattered. There's a lot of fodder for interesting stories in here. Aya is of the same lineage.

I'm deeply disappointed by this move. I hope they re-open the server ASAP. Is there anywhere I can go to lodge a complaint?

Yay! It will be a bit longer before I am on reliably again, I hope you can find Leggerless or Alexaira in the meantime

I like the sound of this guy!!

Adorable wiki for a red coated choclatier? I love it! (Plus a Garlean\Hyur whose look I love? (gee, I can't figure out why ) Some really intricate wikis as well! (Including some really nice screen shot edits!) Just terrific! Rhixo and Aya share some friends, I hope they can meet sometime! When I see such wonderful wikis I feel bad that I don't keep a list of friends, or anything like that on mine

What a cute avatar! Anyone in Astral Agents is pretty much amazing in my book! Its also always wonderful to see an artist posting art! Keep up the excellent work!

Yay! Welcome to the madness! I second the suggestion of just throwing yourself in there! Sometimes you get a little scraped up, but you learn from it and meet people!

This was an amazing thread! :-D

There's an Aya portrait in there and she is super cute! Thank you!

'Ace', is a Limsan Information Broker and Underworld figure, who aided Aya during the Merchant, Marine plot. He's a childhood friend of Aya's during her brief time in Limsa Lominsa as a refugee. (here and here) This post is he and Aya discussing the events of the plot, and their conclusion. "Ah, good, you made it." Aya smiled to her old friend, 'Ace' as he's now known. She'd approached him from the right, his good side. The recognizable smile put her at ease. For him, the hooded woman was still a welcome sight. Though, ostensibly, she obscured herself behind a cloak, she had a manner of revealing nearly everything else in her effort to avoid recognition. The short skirt, the thigh-high, sharply heeled boots that emphasized shapely legs. The open bodice that invited and tempted, rather than deflected attention. For those who knew her it was impossible to not recognize her - and maybe that was the point. "Of course," she answered with a breathy softness. The Ishgardian accent upon her tongue still struck him with strangeness. When they had been friends in childhood it was an altogether different accent that graced her voice. It still took some getting used to. "I couldn't disappoint an old friend could I?" He let out an amused breath of his own, a smile curling upon the good half of his face despite his best efforts to restrain his emotion. "I didn't imagine you would." She stepped up to the railing, stopping beside him before turning her eyes toward the inky blackness of the sea. Gentle swells lapped against the pillars of stone all around them. She very casually dipped her fingers into her open bodice. Nowhere could provide surer keeping for a valuable gift: out she drew a small, thin rectangle tin several ilms across, offering it to him. He furrowed his brow, one good eye focused on the unexpected, though familiar item as she held it his way. "Go on." She added, a smirk drawing across her carmined lips. With a moment's hesitation he reached for the proffered gift, turning it for examination. It took a moment, but the smile of recognition that he offered was exactly what she'd hoped to see. "Well, this is a fine 'thank you', isn't it." He grinned, clicking the tin open with his fingers. With deft fingers he drew out the paper-wrapped cylinder and quickly flicked it below his nostrils, breathing in deeply the fragrance of the smokeweed. "The finest available, if I understand correctly." She grinned out to sea. "The Emperor himself has no finer smoke." Purred the Miqo'te with satisfaction. With the cigarette squeezed between two fingers he offered the smoke back to Aya, "I'll share, you know." She demurred with the raise of her hand, "I have my own vices, mon ami. This one's for you." He laughed, sliding the tin into a coat pocket before fishing out his auto-lighter. "Where'd you get these?" He asked, with his lips pressed together. "Escrow and Sons. I'd saved them for just such an occasion." Her grin, still directed out to the sea, grew ever brighter. "Mighty fine, mighty fine." He replied with some admiration, before lighting the smoke and drawing in. "One hell of a 'thank you'," he repeated himself with immense gratification. She chuckled lightly, keeping her enigmatic gaze upon the sea. She had a way of projecting contemplation - an expression that belied the shallow and careless persona she normally adopted. He took in another breath, letting it out with a sigh of fulfillment. "What do you think?" She finally asked in a soft tone. "Think?" He eschewed, glancing her way before lowering himself down, elbows resting on the railing against which they stood. "Think about what?" "All of this." She answered softly, he knew exactly what she meant, but her lack of specificity still irked him. "All that's happened these past few weeks. Everything since Leeds." He nodded, idly flicking the ashes off the end of the precious cigarette -- off into the brine lapping below their feet. "Ah." There was a pause while he enjoyed the smoke for a few moments more. No sound intruded upon them except the lulling sea and the muted preparations of a Maelstrom vessel docked in the near distance. "Not much." He finally answered, lips wrapped around the smoke. "Not much at all, I think. The entire affair could have been scripted." "Scripted?" She finally turned her eyes toward him. His good eye met hers as he offered an almost imperceptible nod. "Aye. You know pirates: short-sighted, only after their next share of loot, and hatin' to let anyone else tell them what to do more than anything else. The Maelstrom's only pirates in better uniforms." He pulled the smoke away from his lips, turning his eyes out toward the readying ship. "Those mutineers are no different than the rest, really. Don't like being told what to do, and filled with nostalgia." "Nostalgia?" She asked with a hint of confusion - though she'd recognized the sentiment in her very first contact with the Gloam-bound privateers, she'd never heard it upon another's lips. "Aye. They remember how they thought it was when they were young. Or have been told." He waved his free hand out toward the ocean, "Before all of this. When the sea seemed free, at least to them who didn't know better." He grimaced, a bit, "O' course it was ne'er like that. They just don't know any better. Thought they could ha'e it all again. That they could find somewhere they'd never have to listen to anyone else again." She nodded, "I think you're right. They're not happy with how things are. They'd rather face their problems their own way. On one hand, they want to escape those who feel they can tell them what to do, on the other hand they're running from responsibilities to anyone other than themselves. They're just looking for a place to call their own, to live life as they wish. But that's never as easy as it sounds." He offered her a side-long glance, "O' course, you know, 'venturers are the same as pirates, right? They tend to chase a different booty, that's all. They also don't see the day after tomorrow, and can't stand it when someone tell's 'em what they've got to do." She listened. She knew better than to think that she could disagree with that sentiment. "So, you put all these sorts together. Pirates seekin' booty or freedom. Adventure's all the same. And an avaricious Empire with its own to gain. And what do you get?" He gestured with his hand, "Lots o' mates tellin' each other how they got to do it. And none of 'em listenin'. The strongest and cleverest win, at least temporarily. And 'ere we are again. Its the Limsan way, ever been so." He nodded with some satisfaction. "Like one of those show-plays I hear you did, aye?" He turned his good eye upon her as she listened, "So you don't think it could have gone any other way?" "Oh, it could have gone many ways. But it'd only have been a difference o' degrees. Nothin's really changed. All a bunch of noise and ruckus makin' for no end. Maybe it'd have been worse to have a Garlean island out there, but it'd be a problem for the Maelstrom more than us." "About the Maelstrom, what about all the trouble they had? The riots, the court martials and all? You don't think any of that's going to matter?" She asked, eyes fixed on the preparing ship. "Well. The Maelstrom: they were just a bunch of pirates. They're still just a bunch of pirates. All that's different is they're smarter than they used to be: they decide things by figurin' out who'd win the fight, rather than actually killin' each other. Saves a lot of wasted effort and ships and makes the Admiral look like a genius." He waved his hand, "And, yeah, tension with the Foreign Levy, right? But here's the thing: they never really did trust the Foreign Levy. Always a thorn in their side, just a necessary thorn. I don't think that's changin'. They're willin' to shame one of their own to keep the Levy happy, but that's about as far as they'll go." "What Captain Hellfist and the other Privateers?" "I don't know, really. She's just another dead pirate. I mean, what do you want? You tell someone pirate's get into trouble, and the Syndicate's wicked, and they're already gonna know exactly what you mean. How's this been any different?" He let out a dark laugh, "Hell, if the Captain had known what was going to happen she'd probably have done the same damn thing. Pirates are proud like that. And as long as the Maelstrom can keep them in line, nothin' changes. So far, so good. Probably all the better for Limsa, in the end. We've got more than enough problems as is." "How did you know about the Syndicate?" She asked with surprise. He laughed, "You don't give me much credit, do you? Not like its hard to figure out. Just think about the circumstance, its obvious whose interest it was in. S'imba had nothin' to gain, really. And as we seen, he's no ally of the Maelstrom. If anythin' I wager he was on Hellfist's side. I'd have liked to seen the looks on his eyes when they accused 'im of killin' her!" She focused on him with narrowed eyes. He'd peeled the onion with surprising deftness. She thought about delving further, but instead shifted the question again, "And what about Gloam?" she asked. "What about it?" He repeated. "Its a pirate haven. There been dozens of them before. The Maelstrom put an end to most, turned 'em into bases for their own operations when they brought the pirates to heel. This one's just a place out of time. And it'll end jes' the same." "Yeah? How's that?" She asked, unsure of exactly what he meant. "They'll draw attention. Bringing in even more pirates who don't like bein' told what to do. But, in the end, there's only one way to settle things: the strongest get their way. They'll fight, with each other, with others. Power will shift one way then another. Finally, they'll piss someone off too much, be it Maelstrom or Garlemald, and they'll be snuffed out 'afore anyone even knows what's happenin'." "You think they're doomed?" She asked; he felt a pang of sympathy in her blue-eyed gaze. "What can I say? They don't have many options do they? Survive raidin' eastern independents? Even then the Empire will get tired of it eventually. Can't raid Eorzean vessels, can't raid Garlean without invitin' another expedition. The Empire, o'course, learns its lessons well. This time there won't be any question o' the result." She nodded, letting out a breath, perhaps he was right. "Even if they don't, I wonder what we've really gained in Gloam..." "Good question. Places like that aren't really as nice as they sound at first. They're only as nice as the strongest gun-arm lets them be. That's the way with pirates, always been. All those idealistic paeans you 'eard were just that. They can't survive in reality. They talk about 'freedom' as if they could find any such thing out there. Squeezed between the Maelstrom and the Empire, with no one but the biggest guns to decide what's right. That's no freedom, not really." "I know you're right about that... " She'd never really liked pirates. She could respect many of their desires, their valor, and bravery. But at the end of the day, they were people who survived through pure violence. Violence against each other, and violence to prey upon those weaker than them. Its why she'd chosen not to live among them. "The damned thing is that they've already forgotten the lessons Limsa Lominsa learned the hard way." He added with the flick of the cigarette, "The Maelstrom didn't come out of nowhere. Its an adaption to changing times. The old ways are dead for a reason, and there ain't no revivin' 'em. A bunch of besotted pirates can't fight against reality, can't fight and win, at least." She sighed, hanging her head momentarily. "I know... I'd always wondered what their end game was. I was sure they'd never give up their Garlean protection, where can they go now? It is hopeless isn't it..." He nodded. Its obvious she'd cared about the cause - or, perhaps, not so much the cause, as those who had fought for it. "That's just the damned thing isn't it. To 'ave any real sense of freedom, they'd have had to give it all up. Lose-lose. Better to die trying, which I guess is what ol' Slaeglac did in the end. Just went better than he'd expected." He bit his good lip for a moment while looking for a way to change her depressed tone, "Still, it was somethin' at least to beat a Garlean squadron. They'll be lickin' their wounds for a while." "Of course..." She nodded very slightly, lowering her gaze. "The trouble is that it means the Empire won't underestimate the Maelstrom next time." "O' course," he nodded in agreement. "That's truth, and I'm sure you know what it means." She nodded in agreement before he continued, "We've given away the element of surprise in exchange for respite, for a near-worthless little island. Not perhaps the best play for the Maelstrom" "Its not worthless to those there, at least..." she countered, thinking of the Osric, Leanne, and others who'd rallied to the cause of those on the island. "And in the end, they did stand up to the Empire." "Truth again. And in full honesty, it ain't exactly worthless, except when lookin' at it from the Admiral's perspective. Someone out there's makin' a pretty penny off it, no doubt. Its gonna be a growin' concern for some time. And whoever's makin' the pennies is a clever one, I'd wager. He's not puttin' many back into it." He nodded to himself, "There's your real winner, if you were lookin' for one." She just watched the sea. "No doubt..." she stated in a distant, soft voice, while her mind wandered to Edda and her father. "O' course there are other winners. In Limsa, no one's goin' to remember a riot a week later. But, reputations 'ave a way of stickin'. And more than a few 'ave been made and lost 'ere. Slaeglac's name is near legend, can't say how long that will last, but that's a man who won't have to pay for his own rum for a while. Seems there are a few other Officers who've earned themselves promotion too. That Holkstymm, for example. Word is he's gonna found some new Maelstrom judicial branch, or somethin'. I don't know if I care for that, pirates is still pirates in the end." "And, a few others have lost theirs, I doubt its necessary for me ta mention the names, but they're out there on the streets." She knew just who he meant. Her thoughts wandered to Anstarra, Yheli, and others. For some it wasn't so much that they'd lose their standing with the Maelstrom, as the Maelstrom had lost its standing with them. Zanzan, Khunbish - and no doubt more who would never look upon their membership in the Levy quite the same way, if they did not resign it completely. "Those are the sorts of things that stick with us - effect the future in ways no one can know yet. That'll wind up mattering more than Gloam, I'm sure." She looked at him, curious, if unconvinced. "And, o' course..." he turned to her, a direct gaze she couldn't help but return, "There are a couple of sailors alive who wouldn't have been otherwise. That's somethin', aye?" A smile played over her lips, she could see the old friend she remembered - in there somewhere beneath that cynical crust of an exterior. "It is..." she readily agreed, thankful to think of something more positive. "Savin' those that didn't have to die. That's something to take home with you and put in your pipe for a good smoke." He turned back to the sea, nodding. "Maybe it'll mean even more someday. Depends what the lads do now, I wager." "We can hope." "Aye... if hope's worth having'." He seemed unconvinced, and paused for a moment as he enjoyed the quickly dwindling cigarette. "That reminds me, there's also a certain Miqo'te privateer that made fool of himself several times over. He and that mate of his, 'Troublemaker', 'Problemsolver', whatever it is." He flicked his eyes toward her with a hint of accusation, as if he knew of her friendship with S'imba and Osric, and her time on the Sultana's Revenge. She turned her eyes back toward him. "That's somethin' likely to stick for a while too. More bad, than good, for him I'd wager." "Speakin' o' the 'Revenge'," he started, "I heard a strange rumor. The crew's sayin' they had some sort of blonde goddess aboard out at Gloam." He offered a brief glance her way, as he knocked the ash off his nearly finished smoke. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" She turned to him, lips slightly parted as she avoided a straight answer. He flicked the bud of his cigarette into the briny deep. "That's what I thought." He stated with a laugh while pushing back from the railing. Turning to walk away he waved an empty hand back to her, "I'd stay far away from Gloam if I were you. There aren't enough real goddesses to go around, as is." She sighed. That was that then...

Sweet an old thread! I am not a major Ghost in the Shell Fan. I like to watch it, but I have never gone out of my way to. I enjoyed the movie, that simple. My expectations were low and it exceeded them easily. Some parts made me pretty giddy, some parts were pretty weak, but no weaker than your usual super hero adaptation (which I realize this isn't, really). It did not come out at the right moment, the themes and ideas having been floating around in Hollywood for a couple of decades now. But, viewed as an homage rather than a trend setter, I think it accomplishes what it sets out to do. I have to agree with Batou being the best part of the movie. Absolutely. Villains are the sore spot. Oh well, they were weak in the original anime film as well. Edit: Oh yeah, and like an hour and a half of Scarlett Johansson in a partly animated body suit? I don't see anything in that to complain about ^^

Weeelcooooome! That's so amazing! I'm glad you decided to join us! My best advice is to hop right in! Don't worry too much. You can let people know, gently, that you're new to RP if you'd like! That might help. I love crafting based characters. I'd go for it! Think about what sort of specialty she might have an alchemy. It could be anything you can imagine applying to the field, not just those things available to make in game

I, for one, welcome our new Robot Overlords! Welcome! :-D

Kupo! Kupo! All hail the huggable kupo overlords! :-D

I am definitely curious! :-D

He's going to need to join Amons Anonymous before its over.

I like it! Now I am curious what you're going to do with the fellow Has he settled down a bit or is he still rather wild?