Aya

If you're looking for RP I think you'll find Balmung really enjoyable :-] Good luck with the transfer, and welcome to Balmung when you make it!

I think I just read "free soldiery". *ears perk up* Allow me to clarify. I am currently puking my way through animus books. I wish I had free soldiery to hand out to you g--- ... ... Would anyone like to help me clear EX primals? I have only done Garuda.. I'd still like to do the others :-]

I'm going to add "RPing a Quick Sand barmaid" to this list! It might be the most challenging thing I do in game! (And I know its not supposed to be RP related.. but .. but.. still!)

HI! Welcome to Balmung!!

YAY! That new pony tail may very well become Aya's "up" hair!

WHAT IS THAT SPEAR. I WANT IT. If the answer is "Adders GC weapon" I'mma have to shank a Wood Wailer. Delial is a big softie, but you didn't hear it from me...! I don't know what it is, but it is not an Adders spear~

Thank you Sounsyy! That's beautiful^_^ I think Osric is absolutely correct about the portrayal too.

I think the arrival of more refugees than the city can effectively handle (there simply is not enough gainful employment for so many people, and not enough opportunity for unskilled labor to translate into productivity in Thanalan due how arid and awful it is) has placed incredible strain on the culture, and the economy that culture has built. No doubt there have always been winners and losers, but the hope of being a winner (or that one's children, or grandchildren would become winners) has sustained a sense of energetic stability in recent centuries. Their focus on material well-being as opposed to easy lives of pillage (Limsa) or defense against a constant terror at the very real dangers of an environment prepared to destroy them (Gridania) has allowed Ul'dah to become, by far, Eorzea's most successful city. This very success is the kernel of their undoing, as it (in addition to physical proximity) is what drew the Ala Mhigan refugees, and now those of the Calamity that has followed. In Ul'dah you always have a chance, however slim. In Gridania you only have a chance if the Elementals (through the seedseers) say you do. In Limsa you always have a chance if you are/were a pirate (and I think people really minimize just how terrible, awful, and evil piracy is/was). In Ishgard you're just screwed, unless you have pull with a noble house. Where would most people who have had their foundations swiped from under them want to be? Ul'dah, of course, despite being an inhospitable desert. Meanwhile, the refugees will stab at the very thing that offers them hope. They would be treated no better in Limsa (where they could expect a 'whiff of grapeshot'), or Gridania (where we literally see them being rejected by the Elementals and told to go take a hike). Its an interesting situation, and one that speaks to the failings of human behavior where sentiment and immediate needs clouds the ability to reason and think about the long-term.

Another in the series... what could it be?

Aya looks around, seeming to take in the office, "Oh..." Looking back to Eva and Inessa with a bright smile, "So that's what this is!" She looks back to Eva after the offer, a slight sheepishness to her little smile, "Yes, lets! That sounds wonderfully fun!" "Nice to meet you Madam Investigator!" She lifted her right hand, offering a wave of her fingers to Inessa.

Aya's approach was heralded, as it so usually is, by the sound of high heels and the slight jingle of jewelry. She deftly pushed the front door open and took a few steps in before coming to a sudden stop. Despite the slight chill, the tall blonde wore a short skirt, to match the billowy Thanalan-styled blouse, with its laces hanging loosely open to reveal the tiny top beneath. She appeared fully ready for an afternoon on the town, long locks falling over shoulders, carmine-red lips, and gentle touches of makeup. Large blue eyes blinked slowly as she glanced around with a look of utter confusion. "Oh..." she let out with a light breath as she laid eyes upon Lady Evangeline. She spoke with her light, accented voice with just a hint of dazed bashfulness, "I thought this was a new tea house...? Its not?"

When you are exploring a character's inner thoughts, reflections, and her self when away from public eye, its tough to fit that into RP with other people Inner life and outer life are not often the same.

Roen looking amazing (I think its Roen..) The smuggest Lalafel ever... Chachan being sneaky! Sounssy with an amazing axe... Zryusticae giving FF a whole different look. Rivienne and the cutest Lalafels ever... This is one glorious Screen Shot Thread page

Mine began as an open RP thread, and really is a mix between story, journal, and RP I guess... But here it is The two pages are mostly journal-like I think!

I do not keep a journal, but I guess I do something similar to that in my RPC thread here with vignettes into my characters private thoughts and life. I know a lot of people use other websites and services (tumblr, et al.) but I just keep it simple with an RPC thread

I completely forgot about the hunt gear That random hodgepodge has some neat and uniquely colored pieces, so they are worth a look when making outfitd, just nothing to call a set.

There really are not GC armor "sets", there are two uniforms for each (Soldier's and Officer's), neither of which look like anything you'd wear in combat (but they are quintessential FF XIV looks regardless), plus a smattering assortment of often mismatched other gear for use while leveling. Some of these other "sets" will match, but are just recolors of existing models that you can get elsewhere. The only exception to that are in the weapons. The GCs do all have a nice collection of weapons many of which you will not find elsewhere, and are not simple re-skins of other companies weapons. You can look at all available items by visiting the appropriate vendors, and its also not that hard to change GCs (you can change every two weeks, the first is free, all others cost 50K gil), but your rank is separate in each GC. Lastly, I will just mention that Maelstrom has the best and most amazing boots :-]

Roegadyn BFF!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NxQuRpfmhNA

[align=center][/align] [align=center]A Blonde Tinker, a Toy, and a Smile[/align] The table was small enough to almost seem overburdened by its bare load. The only furnishing in the room beyond a single bed. A tea pot had been set aside—its contents long ago ceasing to steam. It was unlikely that any warmth yet lingered. A small toolkit rest upon the table, unrolled to reveal slender pockets containing the long metal tools of a delicate trade. Tools and kit rest upon bare ragged cloth: a worn cover to protect the rough, worn, table beneath. The unlikely tinker sat precariously balanced upon a stool designed for Lalafel. Hooked over her ears, probing between strands of long golden blonde hair, was a bare wire frame upon which were mounted loops to hold the inexpensive magnifying lenses she had once struggled to acquire. A gentle puf fof air was expelled between carmine-moistened lips, before scattering the small accumulated shavings of her careful filing. For the briefest moment her brow furrowed above focused blue eyes. Their usual brightness had given way to a look of concentrated attentiveness rarely, if ever observed by others. She pondered if she had been too careless with the shavings. But as she withdrew the fine, tapered file she reminded herself that it was a toy, and not an instrument. She straightened her body, balancing precariously still on the stool as she pushed her shoulders back, and arched the curve of her spine, stretching out muscles that felt cramped and idle. A finger deftly flicked the lens away from her eye, as she looked upon the toy aldgoat with a soft, pleased smile. She had laid open the access panel, revealing the little animal’s mechanical guts. Now it lay as if on a miniature operating table surrounded by the tools that in proper hands could restore it to life (or likeness thereof). It was a smile of contentment; of one making the world a slightly better place. She tried to imagine the look on the boy’s face when his starlight toy had quit with a sudden grinding groan. His mother had purchased it from a second-hand shop, thinking she had struck starlight gold: a real gift for her son, at a price she could afford on her dancer's income. There was a double devastation of disappointment in the small family. The tinker did not have to imagine, but could recall that look upon her friend’s face when she had offered to fix the son's broken toy. Confusion and disbelief mixed with hope, what after all did she have to lose? Of course she had doubt, what sort of dancer could fix the toy? What sort of dancer knows how to do that? It had been a quiet Starlight. The few gifts she received were sweet nothings in the pleasant, crisp, winter air that bit playfully at exposed skin. The chief, prized above all else, her own little aldgoat. For a moment she had thought to replace the one, with the other, but she knew a child would know his own. That provided by mother’s love, could not be as easily replaced as repaired. Her eyes lingered upon her own little fellow, who sat silent and idle upon a slender shelf that ran along the bare, cracked wall of her own room. It was a symbol of thoughtfulness, of friendship, and of welcome in this distant home. She had found her usual pleasure in the season: descending upon the markets in the days that followed and enjoying the occasion to purchase whatever met her fancy as the merchants and traders sought to unload the last of their merchandise: perfumes, cosmetics, and baubles that still brought a flutter of excitement to her heart. But none would be quite the same as the gift she hoped to give to a boy she has never met nor whose smile she expects to ever see. [align=center][/align] Another Day Stylus lay as if absentmindedly left behind—slow-blotting the last of ink. The door sounded shut a short distance away. It was time for work: time once more to be the smiling, ever-cheerful blonde. The parchment bore a different shade of reflection. Cold spring gives way to colder summer. The seasons having lost their way. ‘Twas not that sun chose to slumber, But that the frost preferred to stay. Whatever spell was cast upon it, On that remembered fateful day, Could not be fled, except by permit, Sooner some escape, than to obey. To find the world, than to submit. I once was one that longed to see To hear, to feel, to learn, and know, What it meant to be a woman free. To leave it all behind, and let it go. Now I know, 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.

Aya will be there to reflect upon the Glacier Queen, and the goddess' mixed impact upon her life.

Honestly, despite authoritative comments otherwise, I don't feel like common illiteracy meshes with the prevalence of written text in the world. I do not think this was well thought through on the design end, and I wouldn't worry myself about treating it as cannon. That said, Aya was taught by her parents.