Aya

I believe that Astrologian is simply its own class and job, so all you have to do is unlock it with any other class. I'm not sure if there are any important cross-class abilities that are important to have though.

Welcome to Balmung!!!

If I see you, I'll definitely give a wave! ^^ My character is a bit more shy than not however--been finding out a bit more about him as I've been playing him. X3 That's alright! Aya's not ^^ Talk to me OOCly and we can find a way!

I'll go with Edda!!

See? This is where a little imagination is really necessary! The key is that the player is willing to take the chance to initiate the social contact. Even an introverted character can be the medium for doing this (while remaining in character) if the player wills it. Opportunities include all sorts of mishaps, such as bumping into someone, spilling something. breaking something and so on. There are also possibilities for mistaken identities: either thinking someone is an acquaintance, or mistaking another character for staff. I am sure the opportunities are endless, the hard part is taking that leap to being willing to initiate. As far as that goes I can never stress enough just how important it is to find that courage one way or another!

Oooh I can see Aya and Lunae becoming great friends! They'd probably get a long really just based off their personalities I would like to meet both of you, I would go to this rehearsal. I don't think this troupe is the sort from which an adventurer would emerge, hence my thought of a friend of a friend, but it is possible that there may be some older ties there! So far only one person has stumbled on Aya rehearsing and it was actually really fun (Thanks Vaughn! ^^ - note that Aya was not at all pleased, but they made up and became friends later!).

I think that it is always a very personal struggle to overcome anxiety and the fear of the unknown that is inherent in walking up to someone you don't know and trying to strike up a conversation. I know that what I always try to do is: 1) Remind people that the server is full of people just like them who are really hoping to meet others to RP with. 2) To encourage perseverance in the face of adversity (this is really the hardest thing I think, since sometimes first efforts don't go well no matter how much you want them to). 3) To always try to be welcoming and to make extra efforts to approach people who seem new. The last is something that we can all do, really all the time. The last piece is just to be patient and gentle with new RPers, welcoming ad open rather than hostile and closed off. I don't think there is much outside of individual efforts than can really accomplish much :-X

I love our Gilgamesh brethren.... but... Go Balmung go!! \o/

Sounds like a lot of fun!!! ^^ Welcome to Balmung!

There are some truly amazing Ala Mhigan RPers ou there so you have a rich tapestry to tie yourself to. Aya is Ala Mhigan herself, but rather resistant to tying herself at all to that claim. Let us know when you have some idea what you are up to, it can be anything fro a high end mercenary (or soldier) to a laborer, cook, or even unemployed vagabond. The options are endless ^^

Welcome to Balmung! I love meeting the mercenary type! Let me knom if you'd like to try to meet up sometime. Aya's presently it Gridania, but is better known as a barmaid at the Quicksand in Ul'dah! ^^

Aya's currently in Gridania for a while (which is really pretty rare for her!) and I'd be happy to RP sometime. She's similarly outgoing and likes to have a good time while out ^^ She's also a former barmaid at the Carline Canopy! Not sure if that may be a useful tie-in.

Aya rehearses, trains, and practices with a troupe of Miqo'te dancers at a studio on the wrong side of the tracks is Ul'dah. Perhaps they share some mutual friends

Of course, Verad is both witty AND beautiful, without having claimed either.... :-D

Yeah this is it really... there is nowhere near enough variability in in-game appearance of models. In my opinion people that either do not use or do not consider descriptions are doing themselves a disservice, and limiting their power of imagination. If you only imagine other characters and even scenes in their specific, limited, in-game form, you are simply missing out. There is a much wider world of RP out there. That said, descriptions that are qualitative rather than descriptive are not as helpful. No one should presume a quality such as beauty, and so on. They may be useful as quick shorthand, but they do not hold much power or meaning in trying to fuel the imagination. "Beautiful" should be the assumed normal in RP land (just like in movie-land) anyway ^^.

There's nowhere near enough variety in the models. I tend to assume that facial features are about right, but that the rest is more highly variable based on description

Wow! This thread has gotten amazing :-X

(You're the BEST Rhea! ^^)

[align=center][/align] [align=center][A Model's Reflections - Crimes Against Nature Part Three][/align] The Boarding House Beneath Lea's Branches. It was a quiet spot, serene almost. The sort of lodgings one just expects when staying in Gridania. Away from the hustle and bustle of all the adventurers at the Canopy. Ensconced amidst nature's beauty with the sound of a babbling brook meandering its way behind the carefully landscaped property. The eponymous Lea is a gentle and attendant hostess. Tea was served every afternoon, and the meals were ever as delicious and fresh as they were memorable. So far everything had been as near perfect as a girl could hope for. Monsieur Vann had hired Aya, but her work so far had consisted of little beyond enjoying herself in the peace-and-quiet of Gridania at her employer's expense. So, it came as something between disappointment and exciting shock when a visitor arrived for her at near 9 bells one morning. She had asked Lea to attempt delay, but the gentleman's was both polite and clear: "Whatever the miss' state, it behooves her to speak with me promptly." And so she did, wrapped in a hastily donned dressing gown within the small lobby of the Boarding House. "Very good, Miss Foxheart. Our apologies, we understand that Miss Kai has been unavailable for some time, and haste has now become urgent. So if it shall please you Miss, Master Vann will brook no further delay in the roll-out of his line. He wishes to remind his lovely model, and representative, that her employment is not limited strictly to showing the clothing, but at all times representing the Vann line of fashions, clothing, and accessories. She shall appear at her beautiful best, at all times, so that all who catch sight of her shall know the beauty of Vann Fashions." The well-appointed Hyur bowed his head with an apologetic authority. Without a glance to the befuddled blonde in her state of undress, he drew a polished watch from his coat pocket to confirm the exact time. "Two women shall arrive here in exactly one hour. They shall attend to your manicure, styling, and makeup. In exactly two hours, your porter shall be waiting here at the door to escort you to the fitting. Please do be on time. Master Vann has the highest expectations." Musical Accompaniement Thank goodness for that cup of tea... Standing just outside the door she took a moment to adjust her hair, buying time for a few deep settling breaths while the Porter stood with the door opened for her. Stepping within, she was greeted by the sound of strumming mandolin to accompany the echo of her heels against the wooden floor of the well-appointed space. She had never been inside the building before, a small domed structure near the main Gridanian market. The porter closed the door behind her, leaving her alone as she entered the unknown. She moved tentatively forward, across the rich carpet of the small foyer, covering the gold-hued wooden floor. She crossed beneath the ornately trimmed octagonal ceiling, decorated with carved wood-work of a rich mahogany tone. The large chamber doors matched the dark trim, equipped with wood latch and handles of the sort nearly unique to Gridania. The moderately sized room within radiated with a natural sunlight that lilted in through the gently green-hued glass-covered dome above. The player of the mandolin looked up upon her entrance, peering from his perch upon a built-in couch that ran the length of the room's circumference. He cast a friendly smile, and with a nudge to the smaller hammered dulcimer player next to him, the two began a light, relaxing tune that easily filled the area's volume with that warm emotion. As if on queue a sharply-dressed Lalafellan gentleman entered from a side room. Without a greeting he paced toward the center of the chamber, motioning toward Master Vann's model to follow. She hesitated, lifting blonde eyebrows as she let out a soft "huh〜" upon an even softer gasp. "Well, come on—you're late already," commanded the Lalafel with an imperative but gentle tone. He waved toward her once more, followed by a finger-whistle. This must be... As she stepped forward a tall, slender Elezen man wheeled a multi-stepped stool toward the Lalafel who at last introduced himself. "I am Yuyumondi. Since, ahem, Miss Kai is otherwise occupied, I have been sent to direct the fitting myself." The look of surprise upon the blonde's face was in no measure reduced as Yuyumondi circled around her. She followed him with her eyes around toward the left, then whipping it back to the right. He 'hmmmm'ed quietly, a perturbed look upon his features as he appeared to be examining every minor detail of figure from his modest height. After completing the circuit he ascended the stool which brought him almost to eye-level with the woman. Again he peered over her with an attentive detail that brought a flush to her cheeks. Come on Aya... you're a professional now, don't be bashful! With his eyes offering an undisguised fixation upon the bountiful features of her chest; he let out a frustrated huff, drawing his diminutive fingers to mustachioed lip. "Well, it is obvious why Master Vann is so fond of her. But this will require adjustments. ADJUSTMENTS!" he nearly yelled in a flustered frustration as he lifted a tensed hand into the air. With a quick turn he descended the stepped-stool, snapping his fingers. At the signal several more people entered the room pushing wheeled contrivances: clothing racks, a counter with boxes of jewelry and assorted fashion accessories, and a large circular curtain rack that was pushed until she was centered within the metal lattice, at once two young Hyur women stepped within the ring and then pulled the modesty curtain closed around her before beginning the process of undressing her. Somewhat to her surprise, this felt familiar. Although Monsieur Vann had taken the entire process to a level of exquisite excess that she could never have expected, the process of being measured and fitted for costumes and clothing was one with which she had become familiar. As she felt the women's hands unhook, unlatch, and pull the dress from her body, her thoughts drifted to the rather serious matters that had come to so engross her idle hours over the past two weeks. This Wolfedge fellow - could he really be? I mean, I know I told Kiht: he may be a relic of the past. A figure preserved from, or pulled from years ago, when 'Young King Theodric' first ascended the throne. Before... before the Ruin, before the madness, before everything. He 'knows' and supports Theodric, but he is a Fist of Rhalgar, voicing a boisterous fealty to the Destroyer. He does not know what Theodric became: how could that be? Could this be simple madness? A manufactured persona? Or could it be one trapped in time. What if he had been such a man. An Ala Mhigan supporter of Theodric, before the Ruin. Imprisoned by the Wailers beneath the Shroud in Toto-Rak. What tortures might he have endured? What legacy might he have left for the Void. A foul spirit filled with anger and vengeance to rise again from the mists of time? Or, maybe a victim thrust forward into a time not-of-his choosing. This sounds of madness! The middle-aged Elezen man stepped into the curtain. Without a hint of emotion on his features he unwound a length of measuring tape and began to move with a professional swiftness. Every portion of her figure was to be cataloged. A series of predetermined measurements that together would account for every curve and length for which the tailors would have to account. He whipped the tape along, first along the back from shoulder-to-shoulder, following each arm: shoulder-to-elbow, elbow-to-wrist, wrist to finger-tip. Each accompanied by a small, careful, adjustment of her pose with the most gentle touch of his fingertips. Then around her forehead. Neck, circumference and height. Collar, chest, above, at the prominence of, and below the bust. With every measure he announced in an unemotional tone the result of the measure, along with the cryptic term that labeled just what-it-was he was measuring, at least to the ear of another trained tailor. The experience could be called invasive and embarrassing, but, such is sometimes the necessity of one's profession. And why did the Wailers seem to want him to escape. Even now they offer no pursuit, either because they are unable, or uninterested. Why do the Wailers also seem unable to protect Bentbranch. There are two theories there: either the voidsent take advantage of the Wailer guard's waning attentiveness, or else someone involved in scheduling the shifts knows when the voidsent are coming and removes his men from the watch to safeguard them. Either way, there too, they seem to have not pursued any investigation. Even the most basic information: the rumor that the Chocobo are being devoured on site rather than stolen, was either not uncovered by the Wailers, or else not communicated to Edda. No, its not a rumor. The look in that poor boy's eyes... I know children are more capable actors than adults tend to give credit (not that we ever took advantage of that - right Aya?), But he was upset, so terribly, terribly upset. All I wanted to do was comfort him, the poor child. But still, that means the Wailers are either not trying or not sharing... The moment his measurement-taking was complete, the Elezen exited as swiftly as he had entered. Moments later the two women dressers re-entered with articles of clothing, and quickly helped dress the model in a rather poorly-fit dress that no doubt was due for adjustment. Meanwhile a team of tailors was already to work outside of the curtain, and the musicians happily strummed-and-tapped-away at their strings filling the chamber with a happy mood that contrasted sharply with the efficient attitude of the Lalafel in charge. How is this all tied to the mad woman? Was she an ally of the same force behind Wolfedge? Or was she something else entirely: perhaps a demon or witch riled by the very Wailers Kiht and the others were dispatched to aid. C'kayah is right: you cannot trust the wailing of a mad woman, but Kiht certainly seems to be worried by what she was saying. Didn't Kiht say none of the Wailers survived? I don't really remember... I thought that's what she said, maybe I should... A sharp pull upon the strings of the too-tight corset sent a shriek from Aya that rudely interrupted her thought. With a soft apology on her lips, the dresser loosened the bind while Yuyumondi partially opened the modesty curtain from upon his stepped-stool, peering within. "I hope everything is alright, my dear." Aya pressed her lips together and nodded energetically with a worried-look as the women tried to adjust her figure within the dress. "Very well." he quirked one eyebrow, "We want no torture here, but remember: in Fashion there can be no gain without pain!" He lent a flourish to the expression and exited the curtain as quickly as he had poked within, quietly confiding to his Elezen assistant, "Master Vann assured me she was a Professional. Let us pray he was correct in that assessment." Now, Edda mentioned a 'War' Council. There must be many others involved. More than Kiht, and Edda, since neither mentioned this as their idea. Let us hope the others can keep a calm head. That Sarnai and Wolfe may well have cost us our best chance to find out what's going on before its too late. What were they thinking? Oh, I know, we have a resistant prisoner lets throw knives at him rather than ask useful questions. She sighed and rolled her eyes at the memory, just as the curtain was pulled open. Suddenly remembering where she was she strode a few steps forward, doing the best runway walk she could in such limited space, swaying her hips to either side drawing one foot before the other with long-legged strides. Yuyumondi nodded appreciatively, "Yes, yes, very good. We'll need to adjust that bodice," he commented as if she had any doubt. "I feel like we could add a little something more in way of a belt, too. What do you think Malachai? Something in a dark brown to match the trim." he looked to the Elezen who nodded silently. She returned to the curtain. Lets see, where are things. Well: I still haven't been able to get back in touch with C'kayah. I have sent him on a wild goose chase for Chocobo that do not exist. At least C'kayah enjoys goose chases; better him than Kiht. Speaking of Kiht, she'll find Wolfedge, one way or another, I'm sure. and I've told her everything I know. She is the most capable huntress I could have found, and the most reliable: she won't kill him unless she feels she must. Now Edda, Edda and the Chocobo. I made sure she knew they were being devoured. But, what more can we do? I offered her that hare-brained scheme: feed the Chocobo ground Aetheric crystal. Allow the Voidsent to devour them. Then find where their lair is from a distance, rather than tracking them directly. That's crazy is that really the best you can do Aya? She shook her head in frustration, ready in time for another appearance beyond the curtain. The tailors offered tight-lipped nods of approval, and after a quick discussion returned her to behind curtain where she quietly prayed to be relieved from the constricting bodice already. "The next!" came the order from without, and her wish was soon granted as the dressers began to help her change into the next outfit. Now what of Toto-rak... what of this Wolfedge. How could we find out more about him? Would it help - well we don't have many leads to go on do we? Was he actually kept there? Could we identify why - or when? Without a better base to return to might he return there? It may be worth a look... She emerged again from the curtain. The outfit was so Gridanian, it almost didn't seem Vann-like. But he had cut a large window in the tunic, enough to highlight the ample cleavage on offer within the bodice. The back of the tunic was cut with a line both fresh and slightly risque to the conservative taste of the Shroud. Aya stepped out with confidence upon the high-heeled boots that sealed the desired look of confident, racy femininity that dared to defy, but not to obliterate the locally demure aesthetic. There's been so much activity in the forest, between the voidsent, the starting of fires, and the thefts: the deep forest dwellers must be aware that something is afoot. They must have spied suspicious activities, or heard rumors about them. Hunters, trappers, scouts, and hermits. What about the poachers? The bandits? The Redbellies? If they claimed to have heard nothing that alone would be reason to suspect pay-offs or threats - no the Redbellies do not respond well to threats. What would it mean if these... vandals, whoever they are, had managed to bribe the Redbellies? From where would the acquire the gil or goods? It could tell us -something- at least. Now, and Stout, Stout... Kiht will come through for you Stout, I'm sure of it. Its the best I could do, I pray it is enough. The next outfit was similar, the tight leather trousers replaced with leggings, carefully slit along the slide to reveal hints of silky thigh. The adjustable jacket was comfortable: she was settling in. The tailors took their notes. Made their adjustments. The musicians played, part of an ensemble that busied itself in the well-choreographed hum of activity. Master Vann would be pleased, things were at last moving again. Toto-rak. Wailer survivors. Deep Shroud Dwellers. Wolfedge. And, if the crazy bet pays off, perhaps wherever it is the Voidsent return to. I wonder what the War Council will come up with?

I have another one! The video is actually surprisingly relate-able to the character as well... it is not a giant leap to relate a frozen Soviet-era city to Ishgard. Dancing as refuge, salvation, and, as a living. As for the lyrics. Well, lets try not to push the poor girl that far, hmm? LAxCqlU-OAo

[align=center][/align] [align=center][Wild Chocobo Chase - Crimes Against Nature Part Two][/align] Now I kow the taste and feel of Sun. Beach-hot white sand beneath my feet, In salt-sweet air, and carefree fun. And endless smiles for all I meet. But I cannot forget, or cease to care, From where I came, and who I am. Embittered cold, that all must bear. From where I came, and who I am. The howling gale; hope; despair. Where cold-capped snow peaks linger still, Where frost strong-clings to all it sees. Where hearth and home bring warm goodwill, Where love exists beneath the freeze. The light notes of Aya's voice drifted into a quiet in which only the sound of babbling water and singing birds penetrated. Light blue eyes lingered on the sight of spring-fed stream falling into the distant pool below. The sight was loveliness, the very representative of the beauty that Shroud-memory meant to her. But her mind was elsewhere. Hundreds of miles apart, where distant mountains rose behind the snow-covered spires of the Tower City. Neither her birth home, nor her adoptive home. But her heart's home nonetheless: Ishgard. The conversation within the Morbolvine Clan's lair had drawn her thoughts there. Reminded her of home. Miah never did understand Aya. Maybe she'd never had the chance. Maybe she never would. Heart strings played upon by one who never even knew they were there. She let out a deep sigh. A slow, steady push of air upon which she hoped would carry every thought of home upon it. Away, away, and away. But C'kayah was already concerned. A gentle look was upon his green eyes, a look he seemed to reserve for the quiet of private company. "You're homesick" he observed adroitly. "The gate is open..." he left the suggestion unfinished, allowing the thought to simply float upon the air. Aya lowered her gaze, leaning forward to rest her arms upon the ornately carved railing of the observation deck. "More or less, you mean," she corrected with that note of cynicism that always seemed to accompany her thoughts of Ishgard. "I wouldn't exactly stake my life on the good fortune of just strolling in again." C'kayah thought for a moment, his fingers upon the cut of his masculine jaw. "No," he agreed, "But, at the same time, you'd be able to see them again. You don't require a forged seal, either. You could, literally if you wished, stroll right in." C'kayah, was right, and knew just of whom she thought, of course. But Aya knew that no matter how sympathetic he was, he could not see the fullness of her plight. So focused were her thoughts upon Ishgard that she could almost feel the chill; see the snow. A looming sense of dread crept through her heart, as did a sense of the powerful little seizures of anxiety that had once gripped her every time she cast eyes upon an agent of the Ishgardian Church and State. The fear that every Knight, every Inquisitor, every Priest or Adjunct could be preparing to steal her away to face mortal charges. The same fear for for her friends, her family, for everyone whom she had known. That daily terror that had slowly eroded every sense of normalcy. "Are you so sure?" There was a barb in her tone, a sense of harshness at his own naivety. "They have opened their gates for their own reasons. To allow in the foreigners who bear with them goods, gil, arms. Who will aid in their Crusade, and help safekeep the city from foes Dravanian and Garlean. The Church does not rule with benevolence; Halone is a hard goddess. Her will is ice. Her faithful..." she cut her voice off mid-sentence, allowing words she may have later regretted to linger unspoken. Her fingers clutched tightly against the railing, her heart pounded with a sudden emotion of trepidation, of worry, and fear. "I do... I do miss.. I do worry about them. And, sometimes," she said with the voice of someone admitting her darkest secret, "I miss what we had, despite it all." C'kayah took a deep breath. He wanted nothing but the best for her. Had he not risked his own life to deliver word to her family that she still lived? It was difficult to see her like this. It was always, so difficult. What could he say to comfort her? How could he encourage her to take that leap of faith: the only leap that would quiet her struggling heart. "Aya... I know I'm not the best source of wisdom on this..." he leaned against the railing, drawing himself nearer to her; his eyes casting their soft, caring gaze close upon her. "I haven't visited my own family since I was but seventeen summers of age. Still... you could Aya. It wouldn't mean that you have to remain..." he tried to assuage her, hoping her understood just what it was that had so inflamed the negativity she so rarely allowed to breach her unruffled exterior. He watched as she closed her eyes. A look of such seriousness upon her features. Never did she seem so sad, never did she seem so serious, and so bereft of hope as when she spoke of home. "There are those who won't have forgotten me. Unsettled scores, unreturned debts." She paused, "Unrequitted advances. Or simply, new amorous longings." She opened her eyes, light blue's unfocused as they looked out upon the splendor of the Shroud. "These are the things of Inquisition in Ishgard. The personal disputes that drive persecution by those able. Against those... well, my voice, it would mean nothing. Even less than it once did." She let out a huff, half-amused, half-dejected; her eyes glanced briefly to his. "Besides; if they remember my performances they may even have a real case." C'kayah watched, his own expression serene; his concern apparent. "A case? You mean heresy?" She closed her eyes again and nodded. "Of course. It really doesn't take much when you're an 'Ala Mhigan Trollop.'" Those words rolled off her tongue with more than venom: an outright hostility that rose from a deep-seated anger. It was almost enough to take her Miqo'te friend aback, so rarely did she speak with such a forceful negativity. He laughed... Aya glanced at him again, wondering at the inappropriate, awkward moment. "Well," he offered, "I would be your proxy once again, but I fear my own enemies have been making sure that I would receive a welcome of chains and a long drop should I ever set foot there again." He seemed to sense that his laughter had been out of place. How difficult she was to judge in these moments, all he wanted was to calm her... "Aya, I'm sure there are ways. If you wish to see your family, or even just get word to them, we can find a way." She nodded, closing her eyes again as she let out a deep sigh from upon the railing. "Maybe... someday... but I can't just stroll..." C'kayah let out a breath of his own. That very real sense of disappointment upon it. "V'aleera sent me a letter. She mentioned concern for my family, and... well... the attack." Her voice trembled just slightly. Worry clutched again upon her heart, "I... it's..." for a moment her expression hovered on the verge of tears. Her cheeks reddened, her breath came ragged. "The Dragoon...?" he asked, perplexed. She tried to force herself to concentrate. This had never been supposed to be about Ishgard. There were important matters afoot. She focused... she forced her breaths deeper, slower. She calmed, as best she could, and then she changed the subject, "...there's something else for us to discuss." "Business?" he asked, somewhat perplexed himself on the sudden turn of thought. "Business? I don't even know what to call it any more... trouble seems to just have a way of finding us. But, I suppose this isn't so much our trouble unless we really wish to make it so." C'kayah cast half a smirk, "Well, we could be selfish and ignore it. Open another bottle of wine, and just wile away the evening. But, lets here what the trouble is, first." Aya watched the smirk, one that reflected suddenly as a very slight smile upon her own, red-carmined lips. "Trouble in the Shroud. And... its serious. I'm not sure that anyone who cares about it can afford to ignore it." C'kayah narrowed his eyes, his smiling-smirk quickly fading at the mention of such a problem. He craned his head to look at her, "What sort of trouble?" "Sinister things," she said in a soft, quiet voice that failed to betray the stake of it all. "Undead, Void-sent, a strange blood-like substance that seems to provoke the plants of the Shroud against others. Accusations against the Wailers. Murder. Intentional fires and destruction within the Shroud. Its as if someone is tempting fate. Testing, probing to gauge whether the Elemental threat, Greenwrath, still is." "Greenwrath..." he murmured softly. "You know, after the Calamity, people thought the Elementals had forsaken the Shroud. It no longer provided the protection it once did. At the same time, it became a much easier place for those not in Gridania's good graces to live." He drew his fingers gently against his jaw, watching her, "It would be foolish to think that change was permanent, but it does mean the Shroud may be vulnerable..." Aya nodded slightly, turned her gaze back up toward the waterfall and the coursing stream that fed it. "Either way, I don't think either of us feel that Void-sent are welcome within the Shroud." C'kayah shook his head in emphatic agreement, "No!" for a moment he pondered the possibility of a connection. The Morbolvine had been dealing with their own Void-sent infestation, "I wonder if there may be a connection..." he mused quietly. Her eyes followed his. Blonde eyebrows lifted at the suggestion of a connection, before her gaze moved back to the flowing water. "Does Kiht know of this?" he asked pointedly of the Keeper Huntress, his one-part nemesis, one-part dear friend. Aya nodded, "She does, and she even asked after you." He couldn't suppress a grin at the thought. "Did she...?" he purred in that deep, luxuriant tone of which he was infuriatingly capable. "Well, perhaps the three of us should meet and discuss what best to do." The blonde shook her head in disagreement. "I'd... well, I'd rather have some better idea of what's going on first. Kiht is best when she has a plan to carry out. Right now..." she hesitates about how just to put it, "She seems rather adrift. And I think we may do more harm than good until we can provide more exact direction." C'kayah's eyes opened wide at the suggestion. "Adrift? I have never seen that woman adrift. Is she alright?" Aya's cheeks reddened slightly, her expression flustered. "I hadn't meant it quite like that. She's always grounded, especially by her loyalty. But, when she doesn't know what she should be doing, she kind of flails about, trying to figure it out. She is always doing her best, and once she has a plan of action to follow she follows it to the very end, but... when she doesn't..." C'kayah chuckled, nodding his agreement. "Yes, she does like action doesn't she? And she'll prefer any action over waiting. Alright, so we have some sleuthing to do, is that right? Who all knows about this?" He had asked a question that she couldn't even venture a question on. She herself had only really learned about anything the day before, and Edda, from whom she had learned about it from, didn't really know her. Her conversation with Kiht had been so incomplete. There was so much still unknown. "I don't know." she answered rather matter-of-factly. "Though, I first head about it a few weeks past, I really didn't know it. I think we should focus on what it is we know, rather than on who knows." C'kayah furrowed his brow slightly, before gracefully stepping from the unknown and into the known. "Very well then, what do we know?" Aya turned her eyes away, concentrating for a moment as if trying to imagine how to present it all at once. "There is a common theme in these otherwise disparate events. It seems to be some effort to harm the Shroud itself. It started with the undead, raised from recently deceased by some force or individual. They were contained by Wailers with the help of a Leve, and defeated, but the Wailers seemed reluctant to allow any follow-up investigation." "I learned of this from a Maelstrom Lieutenant who had been part of the Leve. She was rather insistent that she lacked the authority to investigate further, something that it sounded like she had been told by the Wailers themselves." C'kayah seemed quite confused, "Maelstrom? Why the Maelstrom?" Aya shrugged, "Happenstance, it seems. She must be a member of the Foreign Levy. There was another attack, the one in which Kiht was present. There was a woman, seemingly mad, accusing a group of Wailers she had attacked of something, 'They did it!' she shouted again and again. A blood-like substance had been spread in the area, bringing the wildlife alive, and encouraging it to attack the Wailers. All were slain, before the woman seemed to vanish into the very firmament itself." C'kayah pressed his lips into a tight line. This didn't sound good. "Some of Kiht's companions collected samples of the substance. They're being studied in Ul'dah as we speak. More than that, one of them was actually affected by the blood herself. She claimed it made her feel a very powerful sense of rage." C'kayah turned all of this over in his head, remaining silent for a moment. "Do you know what the alchemists found, Aya? When they analyzed it?" She shook her head, "As far as I know there are no results as of yet. They're still working on it. Hopefully we'll hear from Kiht if she learns anything. Now, both of these events seem to share the common theme of defiling the Shrould don't they? There's more still. A fire that was set upon a sacred tree of the Shroud, one that took a great deal of effort to bring under control. Another: a Chocobo-keeper has been murdered, and daily Chocobo are found missing from Bent Branch. When a group of adventurer's attempted to locate the missing Chocobo, they were met by a powerful force: individuals who overpowered them and forced their retreat, empty handed." C'kayah nodded with puzzlement. It just seemed to keep getting worse. "And what was this about the Wailers?" Aya's eyes widened for a moment before she nodded, "It was a hunch of Kiht's. She seemed very concerned about the way the woman was accusing the slain Wailers of misdeeds. Concerned enough that she is trying to investigate the Wailers herself to see if she can find any evidence of what they might be up to. Now, when she told me this I thought of two other things: One, that the Wailers had seemed to stymie further investigation into the first group of void sent, and secondly that in Bentbranch they are not following up with any real investigation of the missing Chocobo." C'kayah fell into deep thought, offering only a slight nod. After a few silent moments he conjectured, "You want to look into the Chocobo, don't you Aya. You want us to look into it?" He cast his perceptive eyes upon her, she nodded. "That," she couldn't help but smile at his power of deduction, "is where I would like to begin. Not so much, us, perhaps, but there are many Shroud Miqo'te about. Mistresses of the wood. Some of the best are even available for hire. Far quieter than a trampling team of adventurers, don't you think?" C'kayah agreed, "There's a lot of truth in what you're saying." She nodded, nearly lost in her own thoughts, "Something is telling me the Chocobo are important. It seems too strange an act to be random. There must be purpose, and whoever they are they killed to achieve it, and have fought to hide their tracks. That seems like the best place to start." "Then that is where we shall begin! Or, at least, where the Huntresses we employ shall begin!" He turned his eyes reflective upon the waterfall, lifting his body straight as he looked upon it, "The Shroud has always been important to me. To my livelihood, of course, but also... it was a refuge for me when I had nothing else. It may seem sappy, but I'll defend that." She watched, smiling softly. "I thought you would. In its one peculiar way, the Shroud itself is Freedom. At least, that is what it has always meant to me. Especially when I spied it from the distance of Ishgard. Perched upon a tower.. dreaming.." He watched her, a knowing smirk upon her lips. He had heard these stories before, and he had a feeling he was one of the only ones who had. "Well, when the two of us are on the case..." She flashed a grin his way. "A pretty unlikely pair of saviors, don't you think?" She grinned playfully, "The unlikeliest!"

Welcome to the dance floor!

Berroooooooooooooood... "Just look at that.. shame he'll never look at me twice!" Aya also knows that he is a serious trainer, capable of being both frightening (the first time she 'met' him) and fun! He is also a very good friend of Val's! He's terribly intriguing, and frustrating in that he never even really seems interested in being friends, though he has always been polite and nice to Aya she has seen some of the other side of him as well! Warren: A man who holds up pillars! Too lost in his business any more to be tho good friend he really once was, but Aya would never turn down the opportunity to share a drink, or serve him one. She's found him so often misguided, yet earnest and well-intentioned. The kind of man you wish others were like ^^

Unless you've been in a couple of arcs already ^^

"She sure is a cute Roegadyn! I wonder what she is smiling about though..."*nervous*