Askier

Ki was bleeding and bruised. His lip was busted, nose bleeding, and he had a gash over his gut. But the two suckers he had just beaten were looking worse as he towered over them. Blood was running into his eyes and he grabbed a piece of paper on the alley floor. He brushed the blood out of his eyes and then examined the paper. It was a add for Bronco Grease. Ki raised his eyebrow and snorted as he tossed the paper over his shoulder. "Isn't that the drink the Garlean's outlawed cause it shrinks penis size?"

Ki was smoking as he read the paper. A tied up prisoner wiggled against his binds to no avail. Ki knew knots and he had been paid to much to bring the outlaw in alive. Ki's eyes saw the name of Khit's group. Quickly he flipped over to the page, eager to hear about his friend's clan. The article started off positive enough but, by the end, Ki was chewing through his cigarette. The burning end fell of as the male bit down and he exhale smoke from his nose as he chuckled and shook his head. "They're Keepers. They get feral. Welcome to being a miqo'te. Guess some people don't have what it takes to be a huntress." Ki turned the page and began reading an ad about Bronco Grease. "Probably should check in with her though."

Thank you!! Yours is very much on the way heheh (: -Squeeeeels-

"Adin." If there was a way for Ki to say the name with more disgust, he didn't know how. How much of his life had been in the shadow of that man? How many threads of his being were woven and created by that man? How much suffering stemmed from that man's existence? His continued existence. Ki's lips curled. It shouldn't be possible. The laws of physics were set. It was a simple cause and effect reaction. You cut someone's head off, they are dead. You stab their heart, you bleed to death. You burn them to ashes, they die. Yet Adin was proving that the second law of thermodynamics was insufferably accurate. Matter was not being created or destroyed and the bastard somehow endured on in life instead of death. "Is death just a revolving door these days?" Ki snarled as he looked down at the snow filled streets of Ishgard through the window of his room. He heard a soft moan and looked back at the form resting in the bed. He sighed and felt a sense of fear twist him. What would happen to Nahare? Ki looked out the window again. What would happen to everyone? The game of daggers and hoods was about to begin in earnest. This was a dance Ki had played over and over and he was tired of stepping out onto the dance floor. Tired of watching his back every time he met with someone. Tired of telling half-truths to everyone and lies to most. Ki had tried running before. It didn't work. He had tried fighting back. How many employers had he stabbed in the back? Too many. And Adin had been the first. Snow was falling and the fat flakes of frozen water danced on the still air of the sleeping city. Melkire had told him what he wanted done. Course that hyur had. Melkire was the kind of man always wrapped up in the middle of everything. The literal lynch pin of Eorzea. And now he was wrapped up in Adin's plots. Again. Ki's exhale frosted the glass and he licked his lips. Tengri was a pawn for Adin. Ki wanted to wring the au ra's neck. But that would give away the secret. Ki had to keep playing the game now. And Ki planned to tie up all the loose ends this time. There would be no escape for Adin. Not this time. Ki pulled out a linkpearl from a box that sat on the window sill. He looked at it and then slipped it into his left ear. He pressed it and spoke softly. "Myst." Ki said the name with a swallow. He had gone to the necromancer so many moons ago to revive a dear dead one. Now, he had other designs for the necromancer. What made him worried was that Myst likely had designs of his own. "Grimsong." Myst's whisper of a voice answered, smug and drawn out, like a yawning cat awakened from a nap. "To what do I owe this intrusion of my privacy?" "We need to chat." Ki answered slowly. An annoyed clicking filled the linkpearl. "I do ever so much hate conversation, even with you, Grimsong." Myst as clearly annoyed. "Whatever is so pressing?" "It's time you handed over that stone." Ki replied. "And there have been some developments." The line was silent and then: "This is your issue, Grimsong. I'll want a fresh stack of -material- for my time." "We already agreed to the gil." Ki replied with a growl. "Things change. See you soon." The line went dead and Ki stared out at the falling snow. Ki didn't like dealing with Myst anymore than Myst enjoyed talking. But Ki needed the necromancer now. He'd pay whatever the necromancer's price for the peace of mind that this time, the dead -stayed- dead. Ki just hoped he wasn't trading one evil for another.

Have a couple people I need to roast just cause I love them and I show my affection by being a dick. Lol Melkire He used to joke he had his fingers in a hundred different pies. . .too bad he never satisfied a single one. Kahn'a He's French. . .his life is a perpetual roast. Mihk'a He's the knock off, made in China Askier. How about some originality already? Delial She likes to say misery loves company. Problem is no one loves her company. Nahare A broken cat with emotional trauma? So 2014. Tiergan Girl your art is pretty, your mt's are not. Khit Someone needs to change the litter box in that FC house of yours. Too many cats. Warren I think I'll call you coach. Because those who can't do, coach. And you definatly can't do anything other than stand around and watch people fight every Saturday. Natalie Your character died. Everyone cheered. Xp Oscare You're the only piece of dark chocolate that blushes. Zac Evans Hi princess. Askier Your character wore the same IC for months cause you suck at leveling and had nothing else for him to wear. Siha Go get lost in the north again. We made a mistake looking for you. ((That's it for now. Might add more later. <3 you all))

Oh look mommy! -points at Zephyo's character- Another beta male who thinks he can roll with an alpha. Silly beta males. When will you learn your place and stop flapping your lips? You'll never attract a mate that way. Oh well. He was right about one thing. I am a Doctor. Doctor Kovorkian. And I'm here to verbally mercy kill beta male's so Ul'dah need not suffer their weak sauce any more. Looks like I'm off to a good start. ((I roast with love lol! <3))

-Pulls out boxes of hot dog buns- Here, this is the perfect add-on to this sausage-fest. ((Sorry, couldn't resist Xp))

"Probably" a slut? I know Chacha is cool and all but... I just cannot take anyone seriously who needs help opening high cabinets. I know the feeling about not being ever able to take someone seriously, Erik. Every time I look at your FC name, my dirty mind makes me giggle. Hehe. "Red Wings" Earn them.

That might be a powerful statement if it weren't for the fact that EVERYONE other than Steel Wolf is cooler than you. But minor victories I suppose.

Yes. It takes three lalafels to be considered a person. Otherwise they are nothing but pets or food. Depending on what region you are in. Xp

None of my characters would embrace Steel Wolf's love. Standards are standards and Wolf slips way below them all. And this is from the guy who's character murders people to say hello.

Gotta love dat style!

Tengri now had a soulstone and Ki was a million gil richer. Ki had decided to keep Myst in reserve. He had wanted to meet the au ra again. And Ki had brought an ally this time. Tengri had been elated. Thrilled. Ecstatic. Hell the Au ra had danced on a table. But that was the thing that bother Ki. For a individual so -well informed- he acted so naive about these stones. Ki took a sip of his whiskey as he looked out at the sprawling desert from the Golden Bazaar. So these aren't a myth. That line the au ra had said... It bothered Ki. Bore into his head like a needle into his brain. Sure Ki was a million gil richer, but he was also all the more confused.

Ki opened the door to the small, wooden shack that was tucked into the mountain wall. The miqo'te was glad to be entering the building. Walking from Drybone in the middle of the horrific sandstorm had been a test of his endurance and fortitude; and the mercenary was sure he had sand in places he had never felt before. Ki shut the door behind him and pulled up his goggles. The sight of the horror slammed into him the same moment the smell did. A hyur was sitting in a corner in a chair. His hands and feet had been bound with chains so tightly to the chair that the fingers and toes had turned purple from the stagnated blood. His nude form was covered in dozens of cuts and a pool of crimson had collected under him. Sticky foam bubbled from his shredded lips as he he wheezed painful breaths. It sounded like a few ribs might be broken. His half opened eyes stared at Ki, pleading. "Ignore that one." came a dry whisper of a voice. Ki felt his hair stand up. He turned his head to gaze upon the speaker. The necromancer called Mask of the Seven Horrors Hidden in Nald'thal's Mists, or Myst as he was called for short, sat in black robes on the floor. A hood was thrown up over his head and his face was covered in a porcelain mask painted with strange symbols. A blue pentagram was outlined around the robed male and a circle was sketched around both symbol and mortal. Candles burned at the five points of the star and large mounds of wax had been melted already. "Wouldn't it be smarter to just have me kill him?" Ki grunted, swallowing his unease. Despite the mercenary's frequent, secret meetings with the necromancer, Ki was no more comfortable with the man now than when they had first met. "Souls are like fine wine. The longer you age their death, the stronger the soul becomes. That hyur has been dying for nearly four days. He will be most powerful indeed when he passes." Myst's voice was dry but held a hint of criticism, as if he was educating a simple child about fine cheeses at an elite tasting. "But enough of this, why are you here? I told you I would contact when I found the soul you seek." "Change of plans." Ki grunted, pulling out a sheet of paper. "I need you to find out something for me, urgently. I'll pay. Big. Have a list of ten souls here. Need to make sure they're all still rotting in the hells." "Ohhh?" Myst gave a dismissive clicking sound. "Need I remind you how difficult it is to locate -specific- souls that have been beyond the void longer than seventy-two hours? You already know it could be years before I find the one I'm looking for presently. You might be dead yourself before I find all ten." Myst crossed his arms and, although Ki couldn't see the man's face, knew the necromancer was wearing a smug expression. His voice dripped of it. Ki growled and swore. "I'll pay whatever you need, just-" "It's not about money, Grimsong. It's about-" the sound of several children screaming filled the air. Ki lurched back against the wall and pulled out his knife. Myst sat motionless for a few moments as the screams trailed away. "What in the hells?!" Ki exclaimed. Myst waved his right hand and blue steam rose from it. "Not important. Back to our topic. It's not a matter of money, Grimsong, its about how large the void is. And how well Nald'thal hides the souls. So, unless you have an army of necromancers as talented as myself, and you don't, you will need to be patient." Ki sheathed his knife and chewed his lip. "I don't have time to wait. Look, if-" there was a gust of wind that started out of nowhere. One of the candles blew out and Myst looked at the dying hyur. "Be quick, Grimsong. That man is about to die and I will need to bind his soul. Best you are not here for that." Myst's harsh whisper was louder than Ki thought it could possibly be. Ki felt his palms grow sweaty as he took the door knob in his hands. "If you could meet the person I think is dead, could you tell me who they are and if they are dead?" "A free-willed deceased?" Myst's voice held a hunt of curiosity, though his head remained pointed at the dying hyur. "You think this person in question is an angry ghost come back from beyond the void for revenge?" "I don't know." Ki grunted, suddenly wishing he hadn't come here. "I could be totally wrong. I probably am. They could be alive, but-" More wind blew and another candle went out. The air began to grow colder and Ki suddenly saw his breath on the air. "But you want me to confirm if this person is alive or has died to put your mind at ease." Myst finished Ki's sentence for him. "You are not the first to seek me for such a service. I do hate meeting people but..." Ki tossed the soul stone he and his allies had taken onto the floor. "The man wants that stone. Paying over a million gil for it. You take it to him in my place as my agent, you keep all the gil. I don't care if you can tell me who they were or are, but if you can tell me if they have ever died or not it-" A howling scream like a skewered wolf filled the air as a third candle blew out. "Would be money well spent." Myst cackled, though his voice was strained, as if he was under immense effort. The hyur began to writhe in his chair and fell over. "Very well, Grimsong. I'll take the stone to this man in exchange for the gil once you contact me and let me know when and where. Then you'll have your answer, though I promise -nothing- beyond the most basic of information you seek, and even with that said, if they are a powerful entity, I may not gleam out the information you seek. Now get out." Another candle was snuffed out. The shadows grew long and filled the cabin. Ki could swear he could see things in the darkness, pressing outwards. Ki tried to opened the door but felt as if something was trying to keep the door shut. Voices reached his ears and he snarled. He used all his strength and the door finally budged. He stepped outside and slammed the door shut. The duststorm still raged around him but he sank to his knees and threw up as an old proverb ran through his head. To what ends is dragged my soul by the means which I employ?

Ki flicked his pointer finger and the thing he had been holding in his hand spun. The miqo'te male opened his mismatched eyes and looked down at the table he was sitting beside. On the wooden surface spun a smooth, polished gem with a runic symbol etched into it's surface. The stone refracted the light of the oil resting beside it all around the room. Ki chewed his lower lip as he listened to the distant ocean's roar. In a nearby room, his dear friend was fighting for life, his sinew binding him to this world breaking. The mercenary exhaled as he watched the stone begin to slow and then fall flat. Ki reached over and picked the soul stone up. There was dried blood on the stone. The last remains of the victim Ki's allies had tracked down and almost slaughtered for the stone. The victim had managed to slip away but not with the stone. And the stone was all Ki cared about. All his newest employer cared about. "Tengri..." Ki said the name as if it was a vile poison. The male looked at the stone in his hand. This 'Tengri' was an enigma, and that bothered Ki; who's life was in the hands of this man he knew next to nothing about. Ki should be elated. All he had to do was bring the Au Ra five soul stones. In return Ki would be paid several million for each one. The deal should have given the money grubbing merc the largest hard on of his life. But he couldn't get his hair to stop standing on end. Something was horribly wrong with the whole deal but he couldn't put his finger on it. Ki was just a hired thug. He knew that and Tengri claimed to know that. Said he had hired Ki cause of his reputation of getting jobs done. Cause Ki had networks. But Ki wasn't that well known. And to know Ki had networks was to know who the networks were, and none of them knew Tengri, so how could Tengri know him or them? Further, why hire a thug when a scholar or intellectual, well versed on soul stones, would have been the smarter -and- more affordable option. But at the same time, nothing the au ra did was threatening, but that bothered Ki even more. No one was so professional to a mercenary with a renowned history of betrayal such as Ki had. Further more, Tengri's female assistant had spoken words that had alarmed the miqo'te and almost set him off. The fact that she had used those two letters before correcting herself.... Ki grunted and placed the soul stone down before rubbing his forehead with his right hand. He had a massive headache from thinking about this over and over and it was causing him to waste valuable time. Time he could be sleeping. Time he could be spending with... Ki paused to smile as he leaned over and sniffed the collar of his coat, which still smelt of her. That powder keg of a woman... Ki's eyes lifted and his smile fell as he looked at the grimoire lying open on the table. The book was a gift from the necromancer "Mask of the Seven Horrors Hidden in Nald'Thal's Mists" and on its macabre painted pages were spells and rules of the necromancer's black arts which Ki had been trying to read to understand the terms of the rituals he sought to have the necromancer perform. Ki recalled -why- he had been collecting so much gil and what he was paying the necromancer for. Once Ki had been so intent and unwavering in his goal. Willing to give the necromancer -anything- he needed for the ritual Ki wanted. But there had been problems and delays. Ki rose to his feet and went to the window. The necromancer claimed he couldn't find the soul in question, and without a usable, original host, other options were needed; and Ki was questioning if he was willing to make those options happen. The mercenary was wondering if he should let the past stay the past and move on. He had a new chance at life. People offering him more than gil, and even someone he found himself growing amazingly tender towards. Should I really bring the past out from its grave? Ki thought. Would -she- want that? Ki narrowed his eyes. That idea made him bite his lower lip till blood squirted out. The warm liquid ran down his chin. He had seen the dead rise up before; with his own, damned eyes. And from the way Mask of the Seven Horrors Hidden in Nald'Thal's Mist had spoken, the original body wasn't needed in the event of.... Ki turned back and gazed at the book and the soul stone with a look of utter dread. A few moments later Ki was out the door, the book of unnatural magics under one arm and the stone in the other. He passed his friends door and paused to nod. He then stormed out of the inn into the night. "You're thinking like a madman." Ki growled as his mind filled with phantasmal horrors. But his gut was knotted. If he was right.... Ki had killed so many... Ki had sent his allies looking into the background of this Tengri and found nothing. Nothing in this world had really turned up. Perhaps all it was was Tengri was a brilliant individual. But perhaps there was something more. Ki knew he was thinking irrationally. But Ki knew only a necromancer could confirm or disperse his wild, nightmarish thoughts.

The Redbelly bandit leader was nervous. His hands were in the pockets of his red court and his black beard and long black hair were hiding his taught muscles. He watched the robed figure next to him. The figure in black robes was picking over a pile of dead bodies for one he wanted. Of the twelve dead corpses, the figure in black had selected four and dragged them aside. The figure was short but the bandit leader had no idea what race the figure was. Certainly not a roe or lalafell but that left three options. The figure's flowing black robes, large hood' and extoically painted porcelain mask hid all distinguishing characteristics. The figure clicked its tongue and spoke in a thin, whisper of a voice, like roaches scampering over dead leaves. "These will be all." The bandit leader shuddered at the necromancer's voice. The necromancer that called himself the "Mask of the Seven Frozen Horrors Shrouded in Nald'thal's Mists" or "Myst" as he told the bandit to call him, had come to them recently offering ten thousand Gil for each -suitable- corpse the bandits brought him. Myst rose to his feet and turned to stare at the bandit leader. Two icy blue eyes gazed out from behind the mask. "Aight. Forty thousand, per usual." The bearded man grunted. His greed was greater than his fear. Myst made an inhuman clicking nose and reached into a sleeve. The air temperature dropped several degrees. "Take your worldly goods." Myst hissed, tossing a bag of Gil onto the floor. Before the bandit leader could move, the door to the stone hut opened and two Redbellies entered. "Hey Boss, Grimsong is back. Someone beat the hell out of him and kept him from getting Korbin's payment. Says a hired monk or something stopped him." The bandit leader raised an eyebrow. Grimsong was an ass but he hadn't failed to get a job done till now. "Aight, grab some of the boys and go round and gut this monk and take both Korbin's ears for defying us." "Want us to kill him?" one of the Redbellies inquired. "Naw, we need him to keep running the inn so we can shake him down. Just the ears. Get going." The bandit boss looked at Myst. "Excuse me, business calls. I'll send someone by to load up the bodies for you" Myst bowed his head while speaking. "Much appreciated. Also, could you send Grimsong to see me?" "Why?" The bandit leader asked, suspiciously. He knew Grimsong had been working with this necromancer for some dark end, which they claimed had nothing to do with the bandit's business; but the bandit leader had sniffed out betrayal before. "I need to discuss the matters of -our- arrangement. If you want the details, speak with him. It is not my business to repeat what I know." The voice was a whisper but it held an icy edge as if he was considering something foul and unnatrual. The bandit leader didn't push the issue. He simply nodded and followed his men out the door, leaving Myst alone with the dead. Myst preferred it this way.

The arrow slams into Ki's coin pouch and Gil spills everywhere. The poor start rushing for the Gil. Ki proceeds to kill all the people going for his Gil. He then retrives his coins. He THEN loots the bodies of the dead before going on his way.

The roads north through Gridania had been full and the taverns and inns along the way were packed every night as travelers raced north to the newly opened city of Ishgard. Korbin was remarking over the good luck his tavern had run into. The middle aged elezen was currently cleaning tables from the night before as light of the afternoon sun spilled in through the windows. The common room was almost clean of split beer and tracked mud and it seemed like they would be ready for the inevitable rush that would descend upon them once the sun began to set. But, for now, the elezen was calmly rubbing tables down with a wet rag, trying to remove the sticky, spilled beer he had left unwashed the night before. At the moment, only his young son and a patron at one table were present with him. His son, like himself, was cleaning diligently. The traveler was quietly sitting at a table, looking over large map while drinking a glass of water with two lemon slices in it. The patron was unique, not so much for his his shirtless attire, which allowed his mass of coiled muscles to shimmer; but the fact that he was just so huge for a miqo'te. Korbin had been around awhile and never had he seen a Seeker so well built. Korbin had been self-consciously walking around with his abs tensed trying to make himself fell better about his body compared to the feline adonis. Though the strange miqo'te was very pleasant and he had been paying for the water regularly, so Korbin was content to allow the miqo'te to stay and make Korbin feel self conscious. The door to the room opened. The sounds of jingling spurs and the smell of tobacco smoke suddenly reached Korbin. The elezen stiffened and he tried to turn. He knew who it was. But a boot caught Korbin at the back of the knee and he buckled. He fell to one knee as a iron like hand grabbed the back of his neck and began choking him as he felt himself being dragged towards the door. Korbin craned his neck and saw that it was the miqo'te mercenary Ki Grimsong who had seized him. Just as Korbin had feared. "Your protection money is late and the Chief knows ya have it." Ki muttered, smoking rising up from his lips. The mercenary stopped by the door and pulled out a knife. Korbin cried out in fear as the knife point was put to his left ear. "I'm gonna cut off the ear. Once I do, you have ten minutes to find the money you owe the Chief or I'll cut the other one off." Ki blew smoke out of his nostrils as he shifted the cigarette hanging from his lips. "I'll get it! I'll get it!" Korbin hollered. "I've just been busy and didn't have time to-" "Yeah, shoulda made time." Ki held on to Korbin as the elezen flailed around, trying to break the vice grip on his neck. "Please! I'll get it, I'll-" "AHEM!" came a loud, thunderously loud and yet theatrical voice. Both Ki and Korbin looked over the large, shirtless miqo'te now standing before them. Ki gave a long whistle. "Damn. You ever hear of a thing called a neck? Supposed to be between your shoulders and your head." the merc snorted. "Less you want to have your overcompensating guts blown all over the floor, sit down." "I believe the man asked you to let him go. Would be rude not too." said the huge, muscled male Ki blinked and cocked his head top one side as he sheathed his knife before he then unslung the large bore firearm from his back and leveled it at the shirtless miqo'te's chest. "Sit your dumb ass down before I shoot your dick off. This isn't your business." "There you are wrong." the massive male answered, raising his hands over his head. Ki noticed a small face was painted onto each hand and he blinked his mismatched eyes in surprise before meeting the jade green eyes of the muscle covered male. "Making goodness fill the world is my business and there seems to be a drought here as of late. And when a drought in goodness comes, my fists make good rain." Ki gave a look of disbelief and he began laughing. "Fella, you are one dumb-" Ki started. "And so do my feet." the shirtless male said calmly as he suddenly stamped his left foot. One of the long, parallel base boards that made up the floor was driven down on the end where his foot stomped. The whole rest of the board bowed upwards. Ki had just enough time to realize that the opposite end of the arching board was between his legs and that the nails holding the head of the board down were giving before the end of the board snapped up and slammed itself into his crotch with a thundering smack. Ki howled and dropped his gun as the air was kicked out of him. Tears filled his eyes and he felt the pain rise up from his balls into his abdomen as he clutched his bruised manhood. Ki fell to the floor. "Owwwwwww." Ki screamed. He was in so much pain that he never saw the large foot that kicked him in the gut and then scooped him up into the awaiting arms. Over the pain, Ki sensed that he was being carried out. The massive hands then found the mercenary's chocobo and lashed him to the saddle. Ki realized what was about to happen through his water filled eyes as he saw the huge miqo'te draw his hand back. "Hey, no!" "Meyaw!" the shirtless miqo'te shouted as he smacked Ki's mount on the flank. The chocobo gave a loud caw and then began rushing off, dragging the mercenary behind the bird. "I'll get you for this!" Ki hollered, his voice much in a much higher pitch than normal as he bounced off a pot hole. He whimpered as more pain rolled through his body. The massive miqo'te dusted his hands off and returned to the establishment. He walked in to see a bewildered Korbin and Korbin's son starring at him. The large male blushed at their awed expressions. "Uh, can I get some more water, please?" the male asked. "I...I...thank you sir!" Korbin said, bowing low. "You've saved my ears." "Not yet I haven't" the massive male said, giving a thumbs up and a grin. "Huh?" Korbin stammered. The massive, shirtless miqo'te with white hair shrugged. "I mean, he's not dead and might be back with friends. So things could get messy." "Then why let him live?" Korbin felt his gut knot. "Because, he was only one. Better to lure more wolves out. Now then, about that water." "I...water...okay." Korbin said, scared and confused. "Two lemons, Mr...." "Mr. Elk Moro is what they call me." the miqo'te thumped his chest and nodded eagerly. "And yes, two lemon slices please. I'll need to be well hydrated for when they come back. Also you might want to find a safe place to hide in case they do. Better safe than sorry!" Elk Moro gave a friendly grin. Korbin just gave a weak smile. "Horray...." Korbin muttered weakly.

[A Few Days Before] -forthcoming-

The bandit den was filled with smoke from the many pipes the bandits were smoking. The sweet smoke hung in the air and was mixing with the vagrants' loud laughter . The roads to the north through Gridania had been busy as of late and these Redbellies had been making a killing. They had taken loot, gil, prizes, and even sold their captives into slavery. Gil was filling their den like sailors fill a bar on shore leave. And just a few days ago, this pack of Redbellies had taken care of an annoying vigilante that had been causing them trouble. Life was looking up for the band of bandits as one told a joke and more laughter filled the room. That was about to end. The door to their hovel suddenly flew open as something flew into it and then into the room. Splinters went tumbling as the door was torn off its hinges. A lalafell in Redbelly attire continued flying through the air before slamming onto the ground, his neck snapping loudly. The dead bandit slid several feet before lying on its back and twitching. The bandits all sprung to their feet and faced the door. Sunlight streamed in through the open door as the men and women of the Redbelly's eyed it, waiting to see what had just killed their comrade. There was a crunching of twigs and then a massive form filled the doorway. The mass of a male was covered in coiled muscles that seemed about to rip through his deeply tanned skin at any moment. His flesh was covered in tribal paint symbolizing marks of protection from evil. Luxurious, white hair was pulled back behind his head. His eyes were jade green but they were narrowed at the moment. His nose was flat on his face and a beard lined his chin. A tail twitched behind him as he flexed his fists. "I would replace the door." the massive male of a miqo'te said in a deep, theatrical voice as several Redbelly hyurs noticed that he was taller than them. "But the stagnant stench of evil needs to be aired out." The Redbelly's immediately knew who it was and they all growled as their leader, a fat hyur with an eye patch and a massive red coat shouted as he turned to flee down a hallway behind him: "Cut that bastard!" The tall, muscular miqo'te held up his right fist as he leaned to the left. He displayed the fist the birgands as he watched the Redbelly's prepare to fight. His right fist had paint on it as well, but the paint was that of a face, with two eyes above the thumb and red lick lipstick around the edge of the thumb and pointer finger to make a mouth. "Evil, meet my fist. Fist!...." the massive male drew back and felt his chakra gates open as his eyes flashed. His fist raced forward at the closest Redbelly within striking distance. "MEET EVIL!"

What makes a person a monster? When they kill or hurt others? But a wild dog kills to eat, yet we don't consider it a monster, just an animal. So...it would be when those things are done for reasons go beyond the need for simple self preservation or are for personal pleasure that it makes a person the monster? Exactly. Does one demonize the dog when its master tells it to kill and it does what it has been trained to do, or does one demonize the master that unleashed the dog and taught it to kill? Ki opened his eyes, the memory of a once insightful conversation departing his mind as he exhaled the air in his lungs. Smoke he had inhaled from the smolder cigarette burning between his lips wafted onto the air. Ki was sitting on a small, wooden chair that sat surrounded by wooden furniture. The room he was in belonged to a old, worm eaten cottage in the more overgrown parts of La Noscea. A wooden table sat before him. Atop the table was a bound hyur. The hyur's eyes were wide as he looked at the miqo'te sitting beside him. "Please..." the hyur pleaded. "I have a wife and child. They-" "Your life story really doesn't interest me." Ki replied, his voice dry as he pulled out his large bowie knife free of its shealth and began to run a whet stone along the polished blade. "I was paid to kill you, so I'm going to do it." "Then why not just kill me already?!" the man choked on a sob as he shouted. "Why are you dragging this out?" Ki looked at the blade in his hand and tested the weight. "Cause someone dear to me is dying and I need something out of you. Figured this was a win-win for me." "I-what do you, hells take you!" the man spat before he sobbed angrily at his situation. Ki rose to his feet and went over to a box. He lifted the lid and puffs of cold steam sprung up. The male miqo'te inspected the interior of the container before shutting the lid. Ki slowly returned to the table, his boots echoing around through the room as crickets chirped outside. Ki stopped and looked down at the hyur. "You're a monster." the hyur glared. Ki chewed on his tongue as he scowled. Then Ki shoved his knife into the man's throat. He pressed down with the point and severed the hyur's nerved endings and dislocated the spinal column as he drove the point between two spinal disks. The hyur's body jerked violently but life had already left the shuddering husk. The miqo'te looked down at the table and the pooling blood; then to the hyur's frozen face. Ki pulled the blade clear and cleared his throat. "Not a monster, just a dog."

Jin'li sat in is tower at the heart of Limsa, wrapped in the cloak of midnight. The white miqo'te was leaning forward in his chair, silently studying the blank wall. The light of several candles flickered as a wind from a gathering storm blew in through the open windows. In the shadows cast by these pale, ghost lights, dozens of ravens sat; their burning, blood red eyes peering at the miqo'te. His face was blank as the wheels of his twisted mind spun their dark plans. He had no emotions on his face and his eyes were empty pits, devoid of anything. He sat without emotion. All that remained was a single, unwaverable purpose. Adin had seen to that. Severing the runt's soul in twain. Cutting the weak, emotional part from him, attempting to leave the miqo'te powerless. But Jin'li had endured. He was now without any weakness of mind. No emotions, no memories, nothing but a singular drive to destroy the ruined world he was trapped in and free the masses of mortal souls into the true void in which anarchy reigned true and even god's could not claim dominion. More winds blew, stronger than before as the heart of the storm drew closer to Limsa, the mighty tempest heads rising up like the fingers of a furious god. The gusts tossed pages of open ledgers frantically. The pages were all covered in Jin'li methodical transcription. Hundreds of pages revealed thousands of weapons and massive quantities of gil had been spread through out Eorzea and beyond. Weapons bearing the mark of Jin'li's company now reached nearly every shadowed little crook this world could offer. And every person that died at their edges or points would never have their soul reach Nald'Thal's domain. They were taken for the white miqo'te's singular, obsessive purpose. The Amassing. The great act Jin'li intended to unleash upon the world was growing close to it's final stages. Soon, nothing would stop the world's demise. And it would be the habit of mortals to butcher one another that would see it all happen. Jin'li was a leech feasting upon the normal acts of mortal hatred and greed. The plan was simple. Like a tax collector, he let the little bees buzz about working, and take his share without their willing consent. They would praise him when the false reality came crashing down. Thunder rolled. There was only one hitch in his plan. One loose screw. "The White Raven." Jin'li stated calmly, his voice flat and devoid of any emotion as he black eyes stared into the wall. The gathered black ravens cawed angrily and the tore out of the windows in a gathered mass as they were suddenly driven by the will of the white miqo'te. Their red eyes glowed as they tore into the tempest int heir wild search. They would hunt, they would find, and they would kill.

"Too many open doors." Ki mused as his mismatched eyes watched his blood ooze down his wrist and muscles forearm. Ki's left hand was slowly digging the point of his large bowie knife into the palm of his hand. The running crimson made him lick his lips as he pulled the point of the knife free. A single line of blood traced its way down the metal blade. A small piece of shrapnel fell free of the wound and bounced on the earthen floor of the small building Ki was sitting in. The miqo'te flexed his bleeding appendage to make sure there was no remaining shrapnel with in his flesh. Satisfied the was not, the male took the blade and licked it clean with his rough tongue; the salty, metallic flavor of the fluid remaining in his mouth after he had swallowed it. "Far too many open doors." Ki repeated, putting the knife down. He took the bottle of whiskey beside the blade and splashed some of the amber liquid onto the wound. His face tightened and he grunted before he proceeded to pick up a roll of gauze and bandage his wound. "First Beardy, now Memith, Sis, and Orenji. So many sources of gil, so many people to kill. So many chances for surprises." Ki ran his bloody tongue over his lips as he continued talking to himself "Two million for Flynt, the pleasure of Rae's demise, and a hundred more besides. I'm not going to be able to spend it all." Ki thought back on the past few weeks. The alliance, wars, and inevitable conflicts he had been drawn into. And through it all, gil kept pouring into his lap. He was starting to feel lucky. Ki narrowed his eyes. Lucky. That was a dangerous feeling. Every time he had felt lucky in the past, something bad had always followed. The high before the low. And right now Ki had too many balls up in the air to keep his eyes on them all and anticipate the inevitable surprises. Though he was less afraid of the coming low. Most people he knew, he could stab in the back easily. Some he would even relish in the chance. And the few he might hesitate to remove by his own mechanations were held so remotely from his emotions that their demise would be recoverable. Least that's what Ki hoped Emotions had a funny way of defying his objective and materialistic mindset and if he wasn't careful, he would fall prey to them once again. And right now, he had plenty of people trying to claw those emotions out of him. People who wanted to care about him even though he kept telling them to knock it off and stick with just paying him for his blood money. He had no intention of caring for anyone and watch them get ripped from him ever again. Ki grunted and took a chug from his bottle. "Only gil, only business, I'm only a dog of war." Ki muttered, taking swallow after swallow of the burning fluid until his emotions were numb and all that mattered was the coin he earned by doing others dirty work. Nothing else.

Every time I play a game that let's me pick a race clearly not human, I pick it. My thinking is, why look like something I look at everyday. Since Realm doesn't have a completely not human looking race, went with miqo'te cause their tails and ears make them as un-rl world human as I could get. Plus tails. Things I can do with that tail. Oooooh mmmaiii. . . . I mean rping emotions like happiness and sadness through it. >.< lol

Looks like a promising plot. Currently rping a mercenary named Ki. Pretty a-moral fellow so if you need any side bolstered, he can easily fit in any of them.