Aya

Totally calling Aya as Samus. Just need the Power Suit.

Makyn's on my list too! He wandered off just as Aya was introducing herself last night!

If thinking about the story is stressful rather than interesting, then it's not worth focusing on. Ultimately RP is about fun, and sometimes a wink and a nod is just more appropriate

I love the tea house, no need to convince me of that If you're that set on the change, and you think it will make the game that much more enjoyable for you, then perhaps it is best just to go ahead with it and not worry too much about the justification. Just shrug and offer a sly smirk if anyone asks about it!

Well, backstory isn't strictly necessary! But if you're bored with her current RP there are many ways to shake that up. What is it you like about the tea house in particular? Do you have any thoughts or plans for it? Its in Aleport right? (full disclosure: you know I love the tea house!)

There's nothing stupid about any of it! Its creative, and its interesting to toss about ideas! Are you feeling that Ophelia is growing stale? Are there any avenues in her story that might be interesting to take? Anything from her past to revisit? There are always opportunities for alts and the like as well, some people like to have such a change in pace periodically to keep their interest Or is it just that Au Ra are that interesting to you? In which case maybe its worth making an Au Ra alt for a time when the expansion comes? No need to abandon or kill off Ophelia to do so!

I believe it!

I wish I knew the details of 3.0, because things are going to happen fast and furious for Aya (because of the story, this was not an intention on my part) and I doubt I'll have much of a plan going into it. All I know is that it is going to be the most dramatic moment in Aya's life since she entered the gameworld.

Missing a leg, hobbling on a crutch, having had to crawl back home and become a burden to his family after the battle. Unable to provide, and battling the complete lost of hope. Until... something inspires him either for good or ill. He sounds like a terrific villain or unlikely anti-hero

Honestly, if it involves having to twist and turn to try to justify, cover, and make right, it probably is not worth doing. What's the purpose of the convoluted, perhaps hard-to-swallow story in the end? If you're really inspired by the idea of an Ishgardian blooded Au Ra there may be a way to do it, but I just feel like the current idea is too much. Do you really want to explain this to everyone who asks where your character is from? The power in a backstory is not in how unlikely and unusual it is, but in how it allows us to relate to a character and understand from whence they came in a way that helps further immerse us in and enrich the world in which we RP. I'm also with Warren in that Fantasia and Glamours, if they exist at all ICly, should be underplayed because their effects are inherently immersion breaking (I know I've made this point before, and really I will do my best to accommodate people who really want to RP something, but its unfortunate when it has to come at the expense of my own immersion). Lastly, I know people are excited about Au Ra, and I am all for brainstorming, but we honestly have no idea who they are, or where they come from yet. It really feels too early to me.

Was chillin' in Ishgard, with no clue what was about to hit her.

Romanian.

My dream of meeting Sounsyy has become reality! *swoon*

<3

[align=center][/align] [align=center][A Hidden Idea - The Scales Part 10][/align] It was an easy matter to drop another letter in for C'kayah; he would find it waiting in his daily, or near daily round up of messages from the Quick Sand. She wrote it, as she so usually did, upon the decorative pink stationary she had first used out of necessity, and now out of desire. Her handwriting was exquisite, almost a decorative artwork in and of itself, with swooping styling she had been so carefully taught by her mother. A light spritz of perfume left it smelling unmistakably of her. He would know. Dearest C, Spring is here, at last! The sun's warmth brings with it such brightness and cheer. Not yet the blaze of summer, but away with winter's chill! It has been so long and I'm enjoying it so! I still dream of Costa, but things are looking up. Oh, did you know I am still looking for it? I'm sure you remember what I mean~~ I think I have looked everywhere! Wouldn't it be nice if lost things just flew home like pigeons? Or, do you remember the fairy tale? If they left a trail of bread crumbs? Though, I guess that didn't work for them either. ~~ALAS~~ Someone should find a way to make the bread crumbs reappear, or else I fear I shall never find it. Thank you for the loveliest time, I cannot wait to wear the necklace. I pray to have the opportunity soon. I hope that things have been as well for you! By the way, I so admire your gift from last week. It's given me such solace in your absence, as if I know that despite my vain search, I shall always be able to find you, and you me. You Always Know Where to Find Me, ~Foxy

Poor (Lucky) Guy!

Aya's "Stranger in a Strange Land" Scales posts: Part 1: Climbing Part 2: Second Thoughts Part 3: Stakes Part 4: The Meeting Part 1 Part 5: The Meeting Part 2 Part 6: The Plot Part 7: The Event at Milvaneth Sanctum Part 8: The Quick Sand's Ishgardian Part 9: Sharing Suspicions

[align=center][/align] [align=center][suspicions and Disappointment - The Scales Part Nine][/align] The route to C'kayah's office apartment, his casino as he so fondly referred to it, was not a long one. Aya used the short time to try to focus her mind, to push away the lingering frustration of the evening shift and remember what she had observed earlier in the day at Milvaneth Sanctum. She had laid her own eyes upon the mysterious No-Eyed Man, and had seen, she thought, the truth behind façade. She knew C'kayah had already begun to pull the levers, loosing wheels into motion across his city-spanning network. Leaving him in the dark would serve no one's purpose. Besides, given the trouble at the Quick Sand, his company seemed most welcome. Momodi had given her leave, perhaps she would stay late... She tried the front door; it was unlocked, a good sign. "C'kayah!" she called as the door swung open. There he was, standing in the entryway looking as debonair as ever. Long hair brushed back, slightly loose with the perfect amount of carefree mess. Loose richly embroidered tunic showing just enough of the taut form beneath. She smiled—he was pouring wine from a bottle into two empty glasses sitting on the small table in the foyer. "Now, you were saying something about having information fo... Aya?" his voice raised slightly in surprise; his eyes offered a confused blink as the Hyur dashed breathlessly into his room, interrupting he and his guest. A lovely Miqo'te woman had quickly side-stepped away from the door. Aya never could place Keeper and Seeker, and in the moment she really didn't care: plan B was off the table, and she was disappointed. She turned her gaze back to C'kayah, blonde eyebrows raised in an expression of obviousness: just why wouldn't Aya be barging into his office at this hour? "Busy?" a grin pulled playfully at her pursed lips as she glanced between the two. C'kayah let out an amused laugh, despite the light blush rising in his cheeks: he was never one to be caught off guard for long. With a quick flourish he produced a third wine glass, filling it from the bottle as he made introductions. "Aya, this is an ally of mine, Vi of the Vipers. And this is my very good friend Aya Foxheart. Its sort of fortuitous that you came by, Aya, I was just talking to Vi about the artifacts. And Vi, you can say almost anything in front of Aya, I trust her." Aya gladly accepted the wine glass from his hand, raising it to her grinning lips for an anxious sip. "Mmmm, oh that's just perfect~" she purred in her own pleased tone reflected in the smile that flashed across red lips, "I can only have a sip, though. I'll have to go back on shift soon..." One could never say Aya was incapable of making her own quick escapes, and providing her own useful fictions. The look of Vi's expression had changed entirely since that first surprised instant of Aya's entry. Her eyes were wide and bright, and she stared agape at Aya, watching as the blonde pulled her cap from her head, and shook her head to allow her ponytail fall free. With an exhale of satisfaction Aya turned her gaze to Vi, her voice carrying in its pleasant, light, Ishgardian accented tones, "Its a pleasure to meet you Vi!" C'kayah was distracted, a perturbed look on his face as he held his finger to his ear: link pearl, they'd both seen it before. Vi took advantage of the break, "Sorry... sorry, did you say Aya, Aya Foxheart?" Aya nodded in reply, with a soft laugh. "They do call me Foxheart! Aya it is!" Vi's smile grew brighter yet, "I've been looking for you! Its rather a wonderful coincidence that you turn up here." She chuckled excitedly to accompany the bright, delighted note of her voice. Aya smiled sheepishly, there was a time when people had been excited to meet her, but that was long ago (or so it seemed to a woman of her youth) in a life that she barely recognized. "Oh? Should I be worried?" The Miqo'te waved her hand dismissively, "Pish posh, don't be so ridiculous!" she took a sip of her wine, before seeming to interrupt herself in order to continue, "Not unless you are a pile of turmeric or a bit of coumerin!" She stepped forward, offering her hand. "Its quite a pleasure to meet you though, you oft work in the Sands, no?" Aya looked thoughtful for a moment, "Mmmmm... no... I don't think I am either of those!" She winked while grinning, "but I do work at the Quick Sand! I'm on break right now, Madame will expect me back before too long though." "That is, if the ruffians don't chase me out... you should see the grief I am getting, C'kayah!" C'kayah's distraction ended rather suddenly, "Grief? You? Vi's anxious expression brightened once more, "Yes, yes, I knew I knew you!" A brief giggle passed her lips, "You are Ser Crofte's friend, if memory serves. Oh... she is such a dear, dear woman. That is... I seem to recall her mentioning you." She covered her mouth, shaking her head as if frustrated, "Oh, but sometimes my poor little brain gets so scrambled!" Aya nodded with a warm smile, "Oh yes, of course! Ser Crofte and I are good friends!" C'kayah listened, but seemed less interested in Ser Crofte. He cast a curious glance to Vi before addressing Aya, "Anyway, what brings you here tonight? Business or pleasure?" Aya let out an exasperated breath as she nodded back toward C'kayah. "That 'Lady' Primrose," she said through clinched teeth, "You may know her as Evangeline. She's gone and riled the whole city against Ishgardians. I'm surprised you haven't seen it yourself." Perhaps C'kayah had seen it, or at least heard of it, but he just rolled his eyes in shared exasperation, "That woman would ask for oil to put out a fire," he scowled. "But I don't expect much more from one of Vann's girls," the tone was as askance as the annoyed look he offered. "That's exactly what she did! And that's why I'm here!" she waved her wineglass around a bit, showing signs of agitation before taking another, calming sip. Vi smiled silently, but began fidgeting almost immediately. A terrible storm of fidgits, hopping from one foot to the other rather anxiously as if she had more to say, but not wanting to interrupt. She went so far as to bite her lower lip, looking from Aya to C'kayah in agony. Aya seemed to regain focus upon her original train of thought: "At the same event I witnessed your man. He was addressing an entire crowd about the dangers of Dravanian influence." "You mean the man with half an eye?" asked C'kayah with a look of serious curiosity. "That's the one." Aya added with a nod. "If he did it once," C'kayah purred, the plot already spinning in his mind, "He'll likely do it again..." He glanced to Vi, "That might be a good lead to approach him about my stash of artifacts, no?" Aya glanced to Vi as well. So that was her role, though she seemed intent upon obscuring it in Aya's presence. Aya was of similar mind: their plan relied upon secrecy and discretion. If Vi were helping sell the word of C'kayahs artifacts she could not realize their counterfeit origin, or who C'kayah's patroness was in the scheme. It was an easy matter to turn things around—it was a role she was used to playing. It would be another useful fiction. "I'm sure he will again." she added, somewhat dryly with a nod and a smile, ready to play the information broker—sometimes it seemed that her entire life were a useful fiction. "It didn't take long for Evangeline to decide to rile up the crowd. It didn't go very well. Honestly, I'm just glad that I made it out of there." C'kayah quirked an eyebrow, "Did she make it out?" Both, however, turned their sudden attention to Vi who was very nearly hurting herself with the forcefulness of her lip-bite. She was squirming with an anxious excitement: her hands clasping and unclasping as she appeared as antsy and restless as a little school girl. Aya blinked slowly, her eyes-widening. "Is everything alright, Vi?" The Miqo'te leaped at the opportunity, blurting out, "No! I mean... er..." she seemed embarrassed at her own outburst; a blush spreading anxiously over her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She played with the hem of her tunic and looked up at Aya with an apologetic air, "I mean... it's just... I... I've heard so many rumors lately, and I...." she seemed more sheepish than ever. "Well, I haven't been able to visit Crofte myself... you see.. I uh..." she dropped her voice as though she were ashamed to add any more. "I heard she might have married her Beau and... and I wanted to wish her a congratulations but... Gods help me, I can't remember his bloody name, and if I send... send... send a gift with card... I mean, I'll look the fool if I don't know who to send it to! What's his name again?" She scratched her head, the question finally escaping. Aya tilted her head, eyes-still wide as she blinked with some astonishment. "Ser Crofte? Taeros?" she blinked some more. "Yes! Jameson! Thank you!" Vi smiled brightly and looked to C'kayah, "I am sorry for the interruption." Aya shook her head with a quiet mutter, "I sure hope she didn't..." Vi's sharp ears still took notice, "Oh? Well, that's a talk for another time! And we will have to talk, I rather like you." Aya grinned back to Vi, her body seeming to relax for a moment. "It would be my pleasure!" came the pleasant and cheerful reply. She took another sip of the deep red wine. C'kayah looked back and forth between them, slowly coming to realize that he was presented with a rare opportunity: normally one did not get to see two masters playing senet with one another. Vi smiled warmly as she took a seat in one of the waiting chairs, "O no, miss. The pleasure is all mine, I assure you." She retreated into the confines of the ghastly red velvet, "I'll leave you two to it..." she said with a quiet smile. C'kayah turned back to Aya, his eyebrows raised and an amused grin still apparent on his features. "You spoke to the man?" he asked. Aya gave her head a quick shake, "No, no. I was just in the crowd while he was speaking. But, well... I know you were interested in knowing more about him, so I took the opportunity to watch." He replied with a nod, "I am. Thank you. I have something for you, by the way..." He grasped gently at her arm, and walked her toward a hallway that lead deeper into the apartment. He turned his most polite and graceful smile back toward Vi apologetically, "Please excuse us, this will take just a moment." Vi nodded, her smile still pleasant and soft, "No trouble." C'kayah and Aya vanished down the hallway, the sound of her heels echoed through it as they entered one of the back chambers. He lead her to a bookshelf, grasping something upon it with the rustle of paper. Drawing it down he presented the parcel to her with a smile. "I found this in Limsa last week. I immediately thought you'd fine it interesting." She lifted the parcel, grinning brightly as she turned it around in her hand. "Should I open it now..?" C'kayah merely nodded, beaming with a Cheshire-like grin. Aya opened the parcel, careful not to rip or tear at the packaging. Pulling back the edge of wrapping paper she laid eyes upon a necklace of exquisite sapphire: a hue that seemed to reflect the very blue of her eyes. She gasped softly. It was not the earrings she so dearly desired, but something so far out of her own reach she could not help but hold her breath. As the Miqo'te watched, Aya's eyes lit up like a flash. In that moment the sparkle of the gemstone was nothing compared to the bright blue of her eyes. But, when lifting the necklace to look at it closer she revealed that it was there as a distraction - a rich gift though it was - to obscure an even more expensive bauble behind it. A miniature aetheryte crystal letting off a low glow. Affixed to it was a small note in C'kayah's handwriting, "In case of danger." "Oh... my..." the sight seemed to have stolen her voice. "I... C'kayah, you shouldn't have!" She grinned back toward him, her eyes narrowing mischievously, "Or maybe you should have... Oh, but I can't keep you, you have company!" He grinned with satisfaction, drawing his hands up to her shoulders. "And you have to get back to work." Useful fiction at work once more. "Don't worry, I'll come bring you dinner sometime soon. You and I have a lot to catch up about." She smiled softly, letting out a happy breath, not quite a sigh, "That sounds just exquisite." She let the pleasant note hang in the air for a moment, before she shifted her weight on her feet, and the tone of the conversation back toward the business that had brought her here. "So... I remember you were trying to determine what his angle could be. But.. I noticed something that may open up more possibilities." He raised his eyebrows. "I believe he is an actor," she said with a cool certainty that seemed to dispel doubt. "An actor from Ishgard, specifically." C'kayah pursed his lips, turning the thought of it over in his head. "Now that is interesting." he said. "I imagine he must be a very successful one..." Aya shook her head, "Talented, perhaps, I am not so sure about successful. That assumes that no one is backing him financially, which seems unlikely." She leaned close, her voice soft, almost a whisper, "I can't place him, but there's something about his manner of speech that is so familiar. It sounds like he belongs on the stage. Besides that, everything just adds up: Everyone who has dealt closely with him think she is acting the part of an adventurer, but something always seems off about it. Consider his style: he made a flamboyant, flash powder entry. His costume is like that of the stage: distinct, covered in buckles, all black leather. There's nothing practical about it. The way he draws up the crowd, speaking to drive them toward a desired end. Its like a scene from a script. His hair, his eyes. All of it. He's crafted a character to play on the grandest stage. He speaks as someone trained in Ishgardian oratory, that much I know for sure. I am almost certain he is an actor, almost." She nearly bit the final words off, she was far more certain than that. To her, there was no doubt. C'kayah mused, "Curious." He wasn't sure what that would mean for their scheme, but he had rarely seen Aya so adamant about anything. "That raises more questions than it answers, but I never thought this sort of foreign theater would be easy to grasp..." She nodded along with him, "It could mean many things. His tone was serious, he has the crowd convinced that he is trying to stop the Dravanian threat. He has turned them against the authorities. As far as I can tell there are three possibilities:" "One: he is sincere, and backed by his own wealth and that of allies." "Two: He is acting to seek some personal advantage, perhaps by sewing chaos in the city." "Three: He is a Heretic seeking to empower his masters." She drew herself up a bit, "sadly, I don't think we can draw any firm conclusions yet about who is behind him. But I suspect he is the front for something deeper." She let out a breath, "But, I suppose that is for you to figure out, isn't it..." C'kayah nodded in agreement, "We don't know yet at least. It gives me a lot to go off of, though. Thank you, Aya." She nodded, her warm smile returning. "Thank you so much again. I'll see you soon, maybe later tonight?" she asked with a hopeful innocence. "I hope so!" he purred with a smile. "If not tonight, then in the next few days. Its good picnic weather if the sun picks up a bit." She beamed, "Perfect! I can show myself out!" She turned, tucking the parcel under her arm as she walked back out the way they had come, followed close behind by C'kayah. "Any time, of course. I can't wait to see how that necklace looks with those eyes of yours... Until next time, Menphina guide your steps." Aya greeted Vi as she re-entered the foyer, "A pleasure meeting you Vi! Take care of him tonight!" She grinned, adding a playful wink before lifting her wine glass from the table to drain it with one more drink. Vi looked slightly confused, "I doubt he needs any taking care of... be well, Aya!" Aya grinned as she set down the wine glass. "Of course you don't..." she laughed to herself, while slipping her hair back into her cap before stepping into the night's chill. Any thought of escaping the Quick Sand for the evening stood dashed, but that was C'kayah. He left her with a lovely, thoughtful, and luxurious gift-and the ephemeral promise of a picnic that would never happen. As the door closed behind her she let out a quiet sigh, and walked back into the torch-lit darkness. [A thank you to C'kayah and Vi! (L'vi Lyrre) for this RP, and allowing me to post it as a story ]

Aya lifted her tea cup, taking a pleasant sip; the flavor of shroud honey mingled with the tea and herbs in that perfect balance she had long ago fallen in love with. The look of pleasure on her features masked the feeling of certainty at work in her mind. It was the Hungry Wolf. The Hungry Wolf. She glanced down at the book again. She wondered at the records it contained. She wondered how often her name appeared. If it recorded her initiation, and her activities in that time that seemed a lifetime ago. These days Ishgard was feeling closer at hand, and the Shroud so very, very far away. She wondered if it recorded missed payroll, missed payments for board. No doubt it hadn't recorded how she had been evicted first from Fallgourd Float when the company failed to pay, and then how she had next escaped just ahead of eviction at the hands of her former employer Miounne in Gridania just a moon or so later. "We sure could be..." she pursed her lips a bit, "It is a desert..." She furrowed her brow, "What did you say your name was, madame?"

[align=center][/align] [align=center][Ramifications for a Working Girl -The Scales Part Eight][/align] That evening's shift was not so much like others - Aya usually found work pleasant, if not enjoyable. She shared in the fun, sometimes commiserated with the sorrows, and just did her best to spread good cheer. But tonight's cheerful smiles were met with an altogether less welcome response. The regulars were as they usually were, to them she was not just staff but friend, but among the routine local customers things were not as well. Leers were simply part of the job description, but they had never felt so malicious. She could hear the murmurs as they conferred among themselves, casting averse glances. It was a wonder with what rapidity and speed word and rumor spread through the Jewel of the Desert. Tips were light, at best - some customers declined service just to place their orders directly at the bar, bypassing the barmaid and her livelihood. Others looked askance, "Better double-check your change..." suggested one to another. Even merchants, with their regular contact with foreigners of all sorts, were not immune to the sudden air of anti-Ishgardian distrust and paranoia. The worst came from a group of laborers—she approached their table with the same bright, cheerful smile she usually carried as she bounced between the bar and tables during her shift. She hadn't let the energy in her step diminish, or the brightness of her smile fade: it was the only confrontation she could manage. "Good evening, and welcome to the Quick Sand! What can I get for you?" she asked in her light, Ishgardian tone. One of them looked up to her, with displeased eyes. "We know you; why don't you just hurry up and go back home? Leave us alone—we don't want you and your dragons." He shook his head with an air of great frustration, "Look, we want the Miqo'te lass. Send her over." The corners of Aya's smiling lips relaxed; the cheer in her eyes barley disguised the up swell of tears behind them. She offered a quick, energetic little nod and turned on her heel. She walked quickly back to the bar, leaning over it to draw closer to Momodi, "They'd like M'areesa to serve them, please." Momodi's little eyes flashed fierce. She had watched all evening, and she knew what was happening. Aya could almost see half-her-mind at work with the desire to send the offending patrons tumbling into the street, but the other-half knew only happy customers were good gil. Aya seemed to be handling things well - Momodi nodded and waved toward the Miqo'te barmaid to hurry on up. As the kitchen door swung shut, Aya threw her hips against the wall. She was out of sight at last. She pushed her head back. She wanted to scream; instead she squirmed, fingers gripping inconsolately against the wooden texture. The first few words of an Ishgardian curse slipped from her lips, but it was not in her to finish them. For a moment she thought what a wonder it was how quickly poison of the mind took hold. "Just go back home." The words rung in her ears. What, did they really think it was that easy? Did they realize that Ishgard was a veritable prison city? Passport required for exit was strictly controlled: those with military, political, or trade purposes could come and go under watchful eyes. Those with influence could concoct a purpose. The masses without simply suffered beneath towers of stone and ice so tall they blocked out the sun. Within walls of stone and ice so thick they blocked out hope. That was life in Ishgard. That night had been the most frightful of her life; one filled with a full measure of them. Cloak-clad, she carried almost nothing: but all that she would have to start a new life. It was a new moon, the world was dark outside of torchlight. At first the walls had seemed the most insurmountable obstacle, but once they had been scaled, the bridge looked more fearsome yet. That bridge, that lone standing connection to the outside world, bore the fitting name: "The Steps of Faith". Each and every step would require faith, but not of the sort intended. To avoid the watchful gaze of patrolling guards she would soon find herself clinging to the sheer stone face, blasted by howling winter winds. How many others had fallen through the unseeable distance of the Sea of Clouds to their death? How long until she joined them? Every patrol that approached was yet another occasion to stare death in the face. Each time the calculation grew more difficult: face once more that desperate fear, to cling and hold for dear life just out-of-sight. To pray to whatever gods may be for solace, for strength, for life itself. Or to surrender and pray for mercy. A mercy she knew would not be delivered, but in desperate straits the mind could convince itself of anything just to avoid that return to terror. Again, and again, she chose the struggle for freedom. To prefer the risk of the frigid cold waste, over fear in a holding cell. Better for her bones to succumb to frost amongst others who yearned to breath free, than within the walls of the city. Yet, crossing the bridge had not yet been the end - like the walls before, the danger of the bridge would fade as she faced that of Coerthas' frigid chill. The manner of escape had not allowed for heavy winter travel gear, had she even been able to acquire it. Settlements tempted with their beckoning firelight that teased at ever fainter memories of warmth. She would never know from where she had summoned the perseverance. Perhaps no one really knew in moments like those: frozen night upon frozen night. Days of blowing snow so thick you could barely see the next tree before you, while watching desperately for the lights of settlement to guide the way south, and downward through the frigid highland locked under its permanent shell of frost. A frost that drained warmth, life, and hope in equal measure. Threatening each day, each hour, to end her escape, until the broken expanse of the Northern Shroud opened before her. That sight she had spied so often from afar. That distant clarion call of birdsong that sang of freedom and sunshine. She remembered stumbling into Fallgourd Float. She remembered having made it. She remembered why her parents had so long thought her dead. "Just go back home." In the kitchen, her cut-off curse still hung in the air. The Ala Mhigan cook turned to look at her, a blade of lemon grass hanging loosely from his lips. "Aya, you okay?" he asked with concern. Aya opened her eyes and looked up, she hadn't even noticed him there, brushing marinade onto sets of Aldgoat ribs. She summoned a faint, difficult smile. "I'm alright Jericho, thank you." "They giving you trouble out there?" he asked, eyes narrowing slightly as he gestured with his brush-holding hand toward the door. She hesitated for a moment - she never liked to admit trouble, especially publicly. She nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that. You're a good girl, you know? They shouldn't hassle ya." She smiled a little more, with a little less difficulty. Suddenly she felt the tears that were wet upon her cheeks. "You know, I know you're not like them other Ishgardians. You just keep doing your thing. Them slow ones will remember soon enough." Her expression softened, but her heart wanted once more to cry. The two of them had been born just several years, and just several miles apart. But she was still the foreigner to him—what hope did she ever have? "You just come back 'ere if they give you any more trouble. We won't let 'em do not'in, we've got your back." He gave a nod, lips pulled into a confident smirk. that much, was true at least. The kitchen was always refuge. She nodded again, a quiet, "Thank you." escaping her lips. She pushed the kitchen door open with her hips. Normally when she did so her hands were filled with drinks ready to serve: sweet water, juices, or Champion Chachans she had just mixed, all chilled in the ice-shard boxes in the kitchen. But tonight her hands were filled with something entirely different: concerns and troubles no fruity, fizzy drink would easily dispel. She slipped behind Momodi, "Madame..." she said so quietly. Momodi looked back over her shoulder. She was so difficult to gauge. Those fierce little eyes, equally capable of warmth and rebuke. "Aya." she said, a hint of tenderness in her tone. "May I have a break?" she asked, very quietly. "Take as much time as you need." nodded the Lalafel. Aya slipped back to the kitchen. She put on her long coat, and then tucked her hair once more into her cap. She exited through the back door in the kitchen to escape the patrons in front. As she stepped into the alley that lead to Pearl Lane she wondered for a moment why Momodi had been so quick to let her go. The Lalafel Patroness was ever-sharp for business. Did she prefer her Ishgardian barmaid to disappear to avoid trouble? How long could this last, really? She had been kind to Aya too... she wouldn't let such business get between them would she? Would she? At least Aya knew where she was going: she had news to deliver to C'kayah. She wondered if, perhaps, she should just throw herself upon him. Forget everything for the evening. It was a day worth forgetting...

I love these!

[align=center][/align] [align=center][Eyes on the No-Eyed Man - The Scales Part Seven][/align] Aya had her eye on some particular jewelry. Twice already she had visited the Goldsmiths to lay eyes upon them: a pair of golden loops, inlaid with series of tiny diamonds. She could imagine the gasps as they twinkled upon her ears in the light of an early evening ball. A gasp she expressed almost silently as she laid eyes upon them once more. The marketplace for jewelry she could actually afford was the Sapphire Exchange, or any of the number of smaller bazaars that operated periodically within the city walls. There merchants and traders, sometimes operating booths with no more than a single display box of baubles, sold their cheaper, often used wares. She loved most especially the body jewelry, the like of which one could find nowhere else in Eorzea: it was just the sort she and her sister dancers in Ishgard had longed for in dreams and fantasies in those wonderful years before her flight from the Tower City. Her cheeks puffed out with the pressure of held breath. Blue eyes sat firmly affixed upon the earrings. They were of the sort of quality, and inlaid with valuable gems one could only find among the products of carefully groomed professionals in the Gold Smith's guild. They were still there, the dream held on with a firm fixation. She knew one of these visits they would be gone, and that no visit would reveal a price she could in fact afford. She made barely a sound in their presence; the disappointed whimper welling within her chest countered by the sort of pointless hope human dreams are made of. Turning back toward the outside world, she pulled her cap on tight over her braided pony-tail. The suns rays were already becoming unbearably radiant in the desert's early spring, but a chill-bearing breeze still swept in from the north necessitating the trappings of the winter season. As she turned down Onyx Lane, met by the welcome rays of natural daylight in the early evening, the sun hanging higher in the sky than it had in weeks past, her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden sight of a large crowd gathered in the square of Milvaneth Sanctum. For a moment she wondered what a crowd was doing in such an unlikely spot, at such an unlikely hour. She took a few hesitant steps down the lane, her mind unconsciously considering all of the alternative routes she could take, before the reason dawned on her: the rumors of the mystery man's public appearances had made their way around. The crowd was gathered to hear what he would have to say. Her eyes opened slightly at the realization, and her pace increased. Misgivings aside, it was an opportunity she couldn't let slip by. The mystery man was none other than the Man-in-Black, also-known-as the No-Eyed-Man. Just the shadowy figure she had been inquiring about, and conspiring to find. His public appearances had been a topic of public conversation for some time, more-and-more he seemed intent to stoke public fears about the threat of Dravanian influence. Maybe she could catch him in person. Carefully she squeezed herself through the crowd. Her demeanor had changed since she had exited from the confines of Onyx Lane into the open square it abutted. Gone was the look of anticipation and excitement, replaced instead by that of a disgruntled young woman just trying to squeeze her way through an unwelcome crowd. On a better day she may have slid through with little trouble other than that of wandering hands, but today she took her time despite outward appearances. What had been dull agitation rose slowly to a din of impatience. The star was late. One voice, in clear Ishgardian tones, called out lamenting his late appearance. Aya glanced back. She was far taller than she seemed, striding upon the three inch heels of her dress boots she stood over six feet, taller than most of the crowd, and spotting the even taller Elezen owner of that voice was no trouble: Lady Evangeline Primrose she called herself. A regular at the Quick Sand, and an all-around trouble maker. An Ishgardian refugee; one who left the city chasing dreams of being a political rabblerouser. The two had shared conversation and even tea at one time, and although they would appear similar to an outsider, Aya allowed herself no comparison. For a moment Aya became worried: crowds were never her thing. She knew what happened to unhappy crowds of refugees. She knew what happened to the crowds of agitated commoners in Ishgard. She knew what had happened to the crowds of Ala Mhigans in his very city not so long ago. She had been the subject of crowds herself on more than one occasion, and never did anything good seem to come of them. What if the crowd became unruly? Worse, a riot? She wanted nothing to do with that - she pushed a little harder, trying to work her way through to the alley ahead, leading as it did toward Pearl Lane and the welcoming route home. Her focus was interrupted by a loud bang, and a flash of smoke. A figure leaped from a tall height above, directly into the square. One could have thought the man a giant, but in reality he was of no more than average height. Clad all-over in black leather, adorned with vastly more buckles than could have ever been practical. His long white hair was haggard, loosely tied back in the style of a I-have-more-important-things-to-do adventurer. He drew his hand over his lower face, revealing only his eyes: one covered in a leather eye path, its strap winding its way around his head, a heavy scar over the other, though his eye had seemed to escape the worse-of-wear: its steel-blue gaze fell piercing. It was him: the No-Eyed-Man. "You called?" he pronounced with a barely concealed laugh - the sort of a man who had just achieved exactly the entrance he desired. He lowered his head to a humble bow. Lifting his head once more, his hand dropped to reveal an amused smile. He addressed the agitated crowd, "Ah! I see there are some who have already heard the good word!" "Truly!" he pronounced as he moved his hand to his hip, drawing himself up as if to give a speech. "Truly, I am glad that so many citizens recognize what those assigned to defend them have not!" Aya stopped. She stared, transfixed for a moment. Something... Evangeline's high, penetrating voice cut through the crowd's din, "What threat could you possibly mean?" The No-Eyed-Man was not perturbed. His right hand rose, index finger lifted with a flourish as he took a casual step, "What Threat?" he repeated the question, addressing his crowd as if a lecture hall. "A fair question. 'Tis a subtle one, easily overlooked until the realm least expects it. So concerned are we with the meddlings of Monetarists and the schemes of the Sultanate that we fail to recognize something more dangerous. Something that may well have been in your own stalls. I speak, of course, of the Dravanian threat. Of the seeding of the city with the means to replenish their own ranks!" The crowd grew deathly quiet for a moment. It was just what they had expected to hear. The rumors were true; and the authorities were doing nothing about it. Evangeline rose to the occasion once more, "But why, then, have you been gathering as many of the Drake Stones as possible?" The No-Eyed-Man again showed no sign of hesitation, neither his manner nor speech perturbed in the slightest. He pressed his hand to chest chest, extending the other outward in an expression of utter humility. "I have done what I could. Fortune put the nature of the plot in my ears, and it was my own fortune I spent gathering the relics to ensure they did not find themselves in unworthy hands. I did what I could to ensure the most dangerous of them were placed in safe care. The Thaumaturges, learned scholars, the guilds, among others I have placed the true threats among those who might best understand them, contain them." He shook his head. "All have failed. The meddlings of our own authorities have brought these actions to naught." Aya pushed harder through the crowd. She knew what it was she had recognized. She recognized the man. Not, exactly, she couldn't quite place him. But the mystery was lessened, or was it deepened? It was hard to say which, but one thing was certain: she did not care to see any more of the show. Distracted, Aya could not quite make out Eva's works within the drowning crowd. Yet, the No-Eyed-Man's voice rang loud and clear, reverberating throughout the public square. "Calm? I have attempted calm in the past. To remove the threat of these artifacts quietly. However, I have found that a third party was gathering them in my stead. Snapping them up when I thought they were in better hands." "And so I must speak to you, dear citizens of Ul'dah - should you find someone with a certain stone of an ugly hue - a little yellow in amber - then take it upon yourself to bring the authorities to them in all due haste!" "For to do otherwise invites the presence of a dragon in our very streets!" His intent was obvious. The crowd was growing louder: murmurings rising to grumblings. There was a shift in the crowd, surging toward the Ishgardian Elezen as she continued to raise her voice. The few words she could make out were startling: "...attacks by people turned to drakes.." "We found these stones you are looking for..." "Why are you doing it?" Evangeline seemed to know everything Kiht had told Aya. And she seemed intent to blurt it out in the least auspicious of manners. Aya moved faster still, pushing against the tide and nearly fighting her way toward the alley. The No-Eyed-Man's voice struck out louder yet, as he turned once more to address the crowd. Aya could not help but turn and look over her shoulder once more. Evangeline seemed to be protected by a fully clad and equipped Ishgardian Dragoon. There could be no mistaking it: was he a bodyguard? "You see what they do? I knew only what you knew, good people - that the thaumaturge's guild saw a voidsent escape in recent suns. And here they claim it was the doing of the artifacts? Mayhaps. But it is in the nature of the beast to turn your wills against those who seek to do naught but good and aid those who would do naught but harm." The murmurings of the crowd grew violent, the No-Eyed-Man held up a hand. "Now, now, no need to get violent with them, you understand. But you see how they sow dissent. I tell you, Ishgard will not brook us involving ourselves in their affairs, even when they are hard pressed! They use their dragoons as agitators, send their own in to stop us from solving the problem of these relics! And so I cannot act alone. I turn now to you, good people, and offer you this - for every relic you find, these yellow stones especially, it is in your best interests to take them! I do not act alone in this, not anymore. One patron aids me, you see, for I have convinced at least one man of the threat, and he is of sufficient wealth that he will amply reward any such artifact handed in to the appropriate locations. A list will appear around the city, in time. Trust no one to handle these artifacts but those who would accept them here! They could be in league with these agitators." The crowd now was yelling, and shaking their fists. A wave of anti-Isghardian anger and frustration swept over them. A chill went down Aya's spine. Must. Get. Away. Now! The crowd had no interest in her. She broke free. She turned around, back-peddling and slightly dazed. Another voice struck out from the crowd, calm in tone and expression, "...Sir! You got me convinced. But still, one question ails me...why you didn't destroy the artifacts, instead of handing it to people? What stops you from breaking the darnable things? I admit. I'm someone investigating the issue. And I saw the horrors that it can bring to the world. Yet, as I recall! They are but a single stone! Why you didn't break it, when you had a ton of them?" Aya watched as the No-Eyed-Man nodded, "A sensible question! But you see, I took the time to study the legends in great detail, the old sagas. These stones you speak of - they coalesce. Far enough away, they are hardly a threat to each other. But here, within the city? Why, when one is shattered, the others grow stronger still!" "I daresay that I could shatter a dozen, but should there be a thirteenth? A risk I could not take." "But I must be off. My patron is merely one among many, and the others are not to be trusted. Royalist, Monetarist - all answer to gil, and when that gil comes from Ishgard, they will answer to anything." There were more murmurings, agitations. A thought occured to Aya as she glanced about, "Where are they Brass Blades? They never let a crowd this size go unwatched..." "Very well. Disperse, good people! The drop points will be ready on the morrow! Good gil for a good turn, and for doing the city a good service! 'Ware an Ishgardian accent!" Aya turned and walked quickly away, pulling her coat tighter around her. She did not hear the stones hitting pavement. She barely heard the surge of the crowd once more. She did not see the No-Eyed-Man steer it once more, just as he desired—but she already knew it was just what he could have done, and what he would have done. [And an apology to Eva, since I apparently didn't get copies of everything she said, and most of the quotes are based upon memory ]

1. Your character gets judged! What stereotype do other students see them as? (Nerd, jock, etc.) Cheerleader! 2. Your character gets an A+! What class(es)?] As if! 3. Your character fails a class. Boo! Which one(s)? Um, I'm totally not, like, telling you! 4. What sorts of people gather to your character? Are they popular or a loner? Totally popular! \o/ 5. Your character goes to future career counseling! What is their ideal job!? As if!

So incredibly true! Jancis is amazing

You are so wonderfully talented! And you recently did a Samus, eeee!