Askier

A bit cliche but hey, Ki is a merc and merc's love their gil. Oh that "Escatasy of Gold." wV0wPBYDQ6Y

I know it's a cover but I enjoy the haunting tone this version takes. As for lyrics, pretty much sums Ki up. Anyway, Ki's theme. hLcBECiISzE

The church near Drybone had always been a favorite place of Ki Grimsongs. Why would be a question even he couldn't be sure. He relished the memories he had here. Enjoyed the somber nature of the place. And the reminder of unavoidable death kept his quest for material wealth in perspective. Everyone had to die, so why not die filthy rich? The deserts winds outside were gusting. A storm was brewing and the atmospheric pressure was beginning to fall. The air was growing heavier and the speed at which sound traveled was increasing because of the higher density of air particles. It was because of this natural phenomena that Ki heard the spurs jingling as the person wearing them walked towards the church door. Ki was seated in the first row of pews. His arms were crossed over his chest and his eyes were closed. His right ear was flicking up and down every four seconds and the earing that looked like a bomb shook each time. Smoke wafted up from the smoldering cigarette that was pressed between his teeth and a pile of ash had fallen onto his white coat. The sounds of jingling spurs grew closer and then the groan of wood as the doors to the church opened. Immediately Ki rose. He spun on his right heel while pulling his firearm free from it's holster. He aimed it at the figure in the door that stood in deep shadow as the afternoon light swarmed in. A second figure stepped beside the first and Ki could make out an elezen frame. The male miqo'te blew smoke as he recognized that the first figure was a hyur. Both men wore long, black coats. The elezen had a long sword at his side and the hyur was slowly twirling daggers as the pair seized up the armed miqo'te. "Well then, let me guess. Rising Claws?" Ki said, his voice smug. The two figures made odd expressions and looked at one another. They exchanged a questioning look and then turned back towards Ki. "Not even close." the elezen said, his voice smooth. "So, are you hear for my head? Cause this is really awkward if you aren't." Ki chuckled as he drew the hammer back on his firearm. "And if we said no?" the elezen said with a shrug. "Probably still shoot ya cause I would think you are lying to me." Ki answered honestly. The elezen gave a dark smile. "In that case, we are indeed here for your head, Grimsong." "Well, you better get in line. Cause the list of people who want me dead is a looooong one. How'd you find me, anyway?" Ki asked,genuinely curious. The elezen shook his head and clicked his tongue. "That would be telling and, since you'll be dead, it'll be a waste of breath." "You are welcome to try and kill me. But it may not go so well for you." Ki took a deep drag off his smoke and then spit it out. The cigarette spun through the air, smoke tracing its track. "We'll see." the elezen smirked. Five Minutes Later Noxious yellow gas was wafting out of the church and into the air from doors and windows. The doors of the church were full of bullet holes and the rising winds were making the dust outside roil about. From the billowing, black mass of the church's dark interior, Ki emerged. A gas mask synched tightly to his face. He carried a bag in his left hand and his firearm in his right. His head was dancing about, looking for his attackers. He had lost track of them in the gas blast. Thunder rolled overhead and he caught the shape of two figures some distance down the road. Ki blinked behind the lenses of the gas mask. "Damn they are fast." the miqo'te panted, his breaths harsh through the respirator unit. They had moved with almost impossible speeds and it had taken several dirty tricks to stay alive. But he was still alive and that's what mattered. "My church!" came an anguished cry from the graveyard. The priest was rushing around to the front and gawking. "It's fine. Just fumigated some bugs. Wait thirty minutes and you should be able to go in and breath without dying just fine." Ki was calm he spoke. The priest scowled at the miqo'te and his gas mask. "Get out of here! You cause me nothing but trouble every time you are here." the priest grunted in anger. "Yeah, but you keep letting me back." Ki chuckled as he adjusted his bag and began walking toward Drybone. Even through the mask, Ki could smell the coming rain and thought that Wetbone would make a better name for Drybone. The fact that it was still a desert after raining every time he was there, confused him. But he didn't worry about impossible geographical occurrences to much. He planned on walking right through the storm. He was in a dangerous spot. One employer was now to the north. Another safe home might be compromised, and his list of allies in Ul'dah was dwindling as 'Ishgard Madness' took more and more north. Ki would end up there soon enough. But not yet. He still had one pay check paying out and he intended to follow it as long as it kept showering him in gil. "Good old, Boss." Ki chuckled.

"The Rising Claws backed on their treaty." Memith's voice through the linkpearl into Ki's ear. Ki's initial reaction was to blow a smoke ring as he cast his gaze at the shimmering water before him; his white coat dancing on the breeze that was rolling off the water. The miqo'te couldn't say he was particularly surprised. He knew he was supposed to stay out of Coerthas. That had been the treaty, had it not? None of Memith's organization that far north in exchange for no "Claws" inside Ul'dah. But Ki had personal business with a dear relative there and he would be remiss to have missed their meeting. Ki had gone in, spoken, and left. Far as he had been concerned, no one had seen him leave or enter. But didn't matter what he thought. This was where they were now. The weathered miqo'te flexed his jaw. "Don't see how this is a surprise, Boss. They were looking for any excuse." An excuse I gave them Ki thought with a degree of amusement. Leave it to -him- of all people to set off the proverbial powder keg that had been developing between Memith's organization and the Rising Claws. Ki was already in hiding cause there was a nice bounty on his head thanks to the Rising Claws. This conflict was about to go from cold to hot unless Memith worked some diplomacy magic. "Ki, why don't you just sit your ass down where you are and wait?" Raziel on the pearl that time. Big Au ra. Ki rolled his eyes. "Big Guy, considering I'm the one that -didn't- get my ass kicked recently, why don't you watch what you say? And for you, Boss, way I see it, you have two options. Either tell them where I am and hope that draws the heat off you, or get ready for the carnage." Ki blew smoke as he waited. Memith was young, but this, this series of events she had initiated when she left the Claws and set about beating them at their own game was going to change her forever. Ki was old enough to know when that changing point was arriving for someone. This was hers. And Ki was just the hired goon along for the ride. "I take it you've dealt with things like this before?" Memith said, taking a slow breath, obviously in thought. Ki smirked at that as he looked at the water before him and watched it ripple. Thirty-five winters now he had been on this earth, and he had spent so much of his life watching or arranging death. Conflict was his art. He wasn't the best or the brightest. But was he was experienced. "Boss, there is very little the "Claws" could do that I haven't seen before, let alone something that would surprise me." Silence. The line went dead. Ki had expected that. Memith's commanding body would now decide what to do. Ki had a suspicion what would happen. Memith cared for her employees. After all, it was her that had ordered him to hide. She would want to do the loyal thing. But her other members would convince her in time that the -hired dog- could handle himself and it would buy them time. Betrayal was a concept Ki was intimately familiar with, and his body was covered int he scars from those actions. The mercenary blew more smoke and watched the water ripple. It was so peaceful here, in the moment. Here, a miqo'te could forget the silly troubles of the world. Just leave it all behind and be a man on the land. But that wasn't Ki. The miqo'te smiled a toothy smile as his golden eye danced in the reflected light of the sun. He reached down and patted his coin bag, which jingled loudly. Ki killed for the glittering coins in his bag, and, it would be hypocritical of him to not be willing to die for it. Money made the world go round and round. People fought for territory and ideals and concepts of right and wrong. Ki wasn't one of those. Ki had worked for all sorts of people who had tried to change the world. Funny thing was, he had outlived, or grown far richer than them. Ki was a survivor. He had survived things far worse than a few assassins. If they wanted to find him, Ki would be waiting. With his little bag of toys ready to go. Ki had to earn his pay after all.

^ Can't say it any better.

"Get up." Ki growled at the bloody form lying on the ground. A cigarette was burning like the eye of Iftrit in Ki's mouth and smoke wreathed his head. the miqo'te's mismatched eyes were open and the golden optic of his left eye gleamed in the darkness. The figure at his feet moan pitifully. Ki spat. "I said, get up." Ki reached down with his left and hauled the bloody mess of a hyur to his feet. "Please..." the hyur wheezed as he coughed, splattering Ki's face with blood. A tooth fell from the hyur's torqued jaw and bounced on the ground. "Please what?" Ki grunted, making a face as he felt the man's flecks of blood running down his face. "Ain't my fault you didn't feel like payin' up like you was supposed to. Maybe you can get a few, fake teeth to go along with your fake goods!" Ki heaved the man against the wall next to them. There was a wet smack and the man groaned as he slide over, smearing a trail of blood down the wall's side. Ki towered over the hyur. "Please...I can get you the goods." the hyur pleaded desperately as more teeth fell out of his mouth. Ki saw the ivory bones and kicked them away. "You already had the chance to do that. You tried to cheat me. Would it be smart business to let you do it again? Fool me once and all, eh?" Ki smirked as he reached into his coat and produced a flintlock pistol with an over-and-under barrel design and aimed it at the hyur. The man looked up through swollen, puffy eyes and raised his hand. "Wait! I can...get you what you need...for free!." Ki snorted and drew the hammer back on the firearm. "At this point, free is hardly worth-" "I'll pay you!" the man shouted in earnest as he lay on the warm stones, blood running from his nose and dripping onto the cobblestones of the alley. "Pay me?" Ki paused and thought. "So you'll give me what I want, and pay -me- for the goods?" The battered hyur nodded and Ki laughed as he returned his weapon to it's holster beneath his white coat. "And my sister said I'd never make it in business. Get your teeth and come on. I have places to be."

-snip-. This is admittedly why I got a little anxious in things like the pet peeves thread or in other threads when it sort of feels like people might be veering towards "my-way-or-the-highway" / "you're doing it wrong" land, because it makes me worry that folks are bringing that old "everyone has to RP the same way FOR THE GOOD OF THE COMMUNITY" vibe over to FFXIV. ... Umm, where was this attitude last year when several of us got slammed for running an rp event that was meant to be a large, fun thing and, instead, were accused that it threatened -server wide- consistent rp by an -elite- few? Just saying, lets not forget the past so easily. It was once policed. Now if you want to say, it's nice how the community has -evolved- into a community that -now- allows people to have their own types of rp and acknowledges that all these different stories and types of rps are okay and can exist in the game, that I would agree with. Community has become more open minded this past year, no doubts there.

ooh. I like it. I'd like to be added for a slot If iI can be.

The first thing Laharal Mergrey saw when he opened his jade green eyes was a white ceiling. There were cracks in the white plaster overhead and the miqo'te followed their routes as his mind slowly pieced itself back together as he regained consciousness. The male's vision began to swim and he felt as if he was suddenly spinning over himself. He closed his eyes and exhaled sharply in surprise as he tried to stop the disorientation he was experiencing. "Ah, so you are alive." came a flat voice from beside him. Laharal's eyes flew open and he tried to turn his head; but a pinched nerve in his neck locked his head in place and his face twisted in a clenched mask of pain as he gasped. "Though I imagine you don't feel very alive right now." came the voice again. Laharal heard the sound of a chair being scooted and then footsteps on a wooden floor marked the passage of the speaker towards the bed Laharal was resting in. The miqo'te looked up at the face peering down at him. The speaker was a short, tanned hyur with a balding head of black hair and a trimmed salt-and-pepper mustache. He had a large nose and full cheeks that were marked with the lines of developing wrinkles. His brown eyes held a kind shape, even if his mouth was currently scowling as he looked at Laharal. "Suppose you are wondering who I am and where you are." the man grunted as he ran his tongue over his teeth. Laharal managed a weak nod but said nothing as he watched the hyur above him. "Well." the hyur replied calmly, leaning back. "You got lucky. Lot of folks around here would have left you to die in that field or, done you in themselves. You Garleans are what we would call 'not very popular' around here. We were fine living on our own. Then you decide you want our country and start flying your airships over, and going to war with our children and-" the hyur stopped himself with a grunt and crossed his arms. "My name is Alex Torme and you crashed right down in the middle of one of my fields. Course the rest of that airship you were on crashed too; but far enough away it isn't -my- concern. Brought you back, called the healer in from town to fix you up best we could, and been letting you sleep since." The hyur leaned over the miqo'te and frowned. "But let's get something clear right now. I only saved you cause it was the godly thing to do. If I didn't pray to my god, you would be in that field fertilizing my crops. You are welcome till you get better. After that, I'd like you to go. Got no need for trouble. I don't even know if we are officially under you Empire's control or not yet, but been telling people you are an old friend of the family running from the fighting. If anyone outside my family asks while you here, you tell them that. Or I'll make you regret I found you." Laharal blinked at the man. He was having some trouble grasping everything he was being told. His mind was a blur and memories of what had happened aboard the airship kept flashing up and interrupting the speaking hyur. He did understand the man had helped him, and his body was very eagerly reminding him of how much he hurt. Laharal knew his left leg was broken and had been set and that a lot of his body was badly bruised and stiff and sore. But he was alive. It part to this strange hyur looking down at him. And Laharal owed him. "No trouble from me." Laharal said weakly, his mouth dry. "And thank you." The hyur nodded, seemingly satisfied and turned. "I'll be back in a few with some food. It'll be nice to have you drinking on your own instead of pouring water down your throat." Laharal could hear his footfalls as the man walked to the door and shut it. The miqo'te sighed as he looked up. The cracked plaster above him began to blur and Laharal slipped back into unconsciousness eagerly. -Elsewhere- "So, the operation was a success?" The speaker was a young woman dressed in brown work clothes. She was seated at a table in a small, hollowed out tunnel. Light from a single lantern burned nearby and the lone flame flickered gently. "Can't be sure." came the reply from her counter part, a deep voice man in a uniform like the female's. "Haven't heard word back from our operatives on the Tempest Wind but our agents in the military are saying the higher command of the Garlean Fleet is scampering around to dispatch troops to the area the vessel was last seen." "Doesn't mean it's for sure down." the female said thoughtfully. "For all we know, it's failed and they are going to invade." "Invade what?" the man chuckled. "Farms? They need that infrastructure untouched to feed their armies. It's not like they're invading Eorzea here." "Wish they -were- invading those idiots." the woman growled. "Be that as it may, they didn't. The Garleans added -us- to their Empire and now we are making them pay for it." the man smirked. "That aside, we've already sent an agent to the town near the ship's last known location to get a report. Should hear in a week or two. But even if that ship didn't go down, this is still a massive success. Managing the infiltrate the Garlean Navy so utterly that we had operatives stationed aboard a covert testing mission shows how far we've come." The woman nodded at that.

Grind ur boyfriend to lvl 60 instead. If u know what i mean. OOOOHHHH YYYYEEEAAAAHHHHHH!!!

(Following is work in progress I'm writing for fun. Hope you enjoy. All rights reserved.) The explosion shook the airship from stem to stern. The vibrations rolled through the metal floors over and over as the the airflow that had been flying over the lift surfaces began to list as the engine power dropped almost instantly. The leading edge of the flying machine began reaching its critical angle of attack. The screams of stall warnings and smoke were filling the hall ways of the Garlean cruiser. The miqo'te in the Garlean air navy uniform picked himself off the deck and swore as his pointed ears flicked. He could hear screaming over the wails of the stall sirens as the ship began to list more and more to the port side. The Garlean officer seized his pistol from the deck and scrambled up to his feet. He turned to look down the passage way. Fire was blazing at the fire end and sparks were shooting out of ruptured power lines. "Damn it all." the miqo'te swallowed. the male adjusted the straps of the back on his back as he turned and began racing his way towards the bridge. His boots clacked on the metal floor beneath him as he went, slipping past panicked sailors. A unit of fire fighters, already dressed in full gear, went marching past him. But to the miqo'te he didn't have time to wonder and wait. The vessel was about to stall and if he wasn't able to do something, it was going to go down. The miqo'te entered the bridge, his green eyes searching the room. Blood was everywhere. It soaked consoles, and the deck alike. Bodies lay strewn about, bullet holes and gashes from massive blades covering them. The captain of the vessel leaned against the glass observation window as he clutched his bleeding side. A hyur stood over him with a blood soaked blade. The hyur spat and looked back. A grin formed over the hyur's face as he saw the miqo'te. "Laharal, it's-" Laharal raised his pistol and pulled the trigger. The bullet roared from the gun and slammed into the hyur's chest. The miqo'te watched as the hyur lurched backwards and slammed against the glass, blood ozzing down the glass as the hyur looked down at the wound with shock as he touched it. "I-" the hyur started. Laharl swished his tail and fired again. The hyur's chest exploded into a second shower of crimson as he lurched over and collapsed onto the ground. Laharl growled and rushed over to the captain's side. The pure blooded garlean looked up at his junior officer and gave a weak nod. "Rebels. I...out of nowhere, took us out so fast. Couldn't react." the captain coughed blood as he spoke weakly. Laharal licked his lips and nodded. "Aye, sir. Sir, can you move? The ship is listing into a stall. We need-" It happened then, the airflow over the air vessel could no longer sustain lift as the engines and lift generators failed. The stall sirens screamed as the ship slipped into a spiral. The miqo'te slide off his feet and went tumbling. The gauges he could see as he rolled around were spinning out of control. The altimeter was spinning and the vertical speed indicator showed they were descending at almost five hundred feet a minute. The miqo'te seized a beam and tried to reach into the aether, to find any air kami he could bend to his will outside the vessel, to help right the vessel and stop the stall and spin. But it was no good. He was too panicked and having too hard a time convincing the air kami to agree to help. Laharal pulled his mind back and the shugenja looked over as the captain had seized the primary controls somehow and was traying depseratly to counter the spin but the cruiser was a large airship and she wasn't budging. The ground below was closing fast and Laharal knew in that moment the ship was doomed. Laharal tried to calculate how fast he could get to an escape pod but with the ships erratic movements, he didn't fancy his chances. Instead, he swung the pistol around and aimed it at the glass. Without hesitation, he began firing, the bullets slamming into the thick glass. Spider web like fractures crossed over the surface. The last round of his weapon's magazine tore a hole through and the wind rushed into the bridge. Laharal tossed his weapon aside and raised his free hand, trying to draw air kami to his palm, gathering them there as quickly as he could collect them. The ground was getting closer. Laharl felt the air kami squirming against his control and he released them in a singular blast at the window. The bottom half of the glass exploded outwards with a jingling noise that was lost over the screaming sirens. Laharal turned his green eyes around to look at the three-eyes Garlean captain trying feebly to save the ship. The man was pale and his eyes were glassy. But even as death was taking him, he was mashing down on the rudder controls, trying desperately to save the spiraling ship and his crew. Laharal gave the man a salute and licked his lips as a grim sadness fell over the miqo'te's face. "Sorry, captain." Laharal apologized before he turned and threw himself out of the ship. The spinning vessel rotated over him and then lurched away as Laharal aimed his head downl. He had no surface to create lift with and fell faster than the massive cruiser. The wind tore at his face. Tears welled up in his eyes as he plummeted towards the swaying, grasslands below. He seized the ripcord and pulled his chute. The massive, canvas parachute ripped open and jerked Laharal upwards as a thermal caught the canvas. Laharal swore as he tried to reach the Kami and shift a mass of cold air over to his potion to cancel out the thermal updraft that was jerking him around ferociously. His feet kicked wildly as the gust of wind from the colder air pocket he had found shifted and struck the warm and there was a momentary, cyclonic rotation. Laharal screamed as he went spinning sideways as the ground came up to meet him. He managed to get his feet under him just as he was about to land. There was a horrible snapping noise. Laharal screamed and went tumbling wildly through the waving grass. He bounced several times before he slammed into the ground and went unconscious. -Later- "Who is he, papa? Is he an angel?" "No, Joan. He's the opposite, a Garlean." "So are we not going to help him, papa?" "No, we are, but not cause he deserves it. Bring the cart and horses." "Okay papa! I'll hurry so we can help Mr...." a paused. "Mr. falling angel." Laharal felt someone seize the name tag from his chest to get a better look at it. "Looks like the garlean is Mr. Mergrey, Joan. Now get the horses before the Twelve strike me down for letting this miqo'te die on my farm.

The End

I think it boils down to this: Do your tax dollars pay for this web site? No? So it's not government property and therefor not public property to the people and not subject to public opinion. Does your monthly internet fee to a private company go to paying for this website's upkeep? No? Then you aren't paying for the rights to use this website. Is this website privately owned and required you to sign a policy agreement form to use it where you agreed to all the rules? You bet ya. So, in the end, you might disagree with something this website does. But it's up to the discretion of the moderators and owners of this website to decide how things ultimately play out. If I buy a house and I want to paint the inside blood red, it's my right to do so. And if I let people in and they don't like the color, I'm under no obligation to change it. However, I think Freelance and ALL the moderators here do an excellent job giving us a place to indulge out hobby and socialize while also listening to our opinions if we disagree with something. EDIT: Also, had to add this, linking this to the idea of a liberal police state is just tacky and ,honestly, reduced any validity of your comment to zill.

Well. Yes. You just called them savages. From my perspective, no matter what they said, you just made yourself like them by demeaning them with that insulting word. They are humans just like you and me. And certainly not agreeing with them is allowed. But to attack back just keeps the cycle going.

Bashing is bashing is bashing. The moment you bash someone, you are demeaning them. No matter how you justify it, if you are bashing someone, you are insinuating something they do is lesser. Even if they hurt your feelings or said something vile, the moment you bash them, you have made yourself the exact same as them.

Wait a sec. So some of you are bashing people who go onto a public website and anonimiously excercise their freedom of speech by bashing a person or abstract group of people by also going to a public website and anonimiously exercising your freedom of speech by bashing an abstract group of people?

"Mr. Oul." Jin'li Epinoch turned. He was dressed in a black suit made of silk. A silver cane was in his right hand and a raven was perched on his shoulder, its glowing red eyes fixed on the elezen woman who had spoken. The female paused to swallow. It was obvious she was uncomfortable in the presence of the eerie miqo'te and his avian companion, but she collected herself and went on, her hands clutching tightly the large book in her hands. "Mr. Oul, we have received a relatively large order to a client in Gridania, more than our current agents there can supply with their present stock, and I wanted your approval to shift the requested ordinance to the location as soon as possible. Jin'li blinked slowly. The female elezen never knew what her employer was thinking. The little male was a mystery, who made even less sense in everything except how he ran his company. He had been looking for an accountant and she had been in the right place at the right time. She had never heard of Trythian Oul, or his arms company before the male had approached her, but she had come to find his company was already a well-oiled machine that somehow policed itself and operated without issue. Trythian Oul Industries certainly wasn't the largest organization of its kind but it was becoming a very profitable one and, by the elezen's calculations, well spread. At this point, there very few places a weapon bearing the Trythian Oul Industries' rune was not obtainable. And with the possibility of coming conflict in the north, her employer had shifted a decent chunk of the companies' resources to distributing their weapons there. And there was even talk of shipping weapons overseas to the far off lands. "Miss Teara," Jin'li said finally, his voice devoid of emotion. "Would you kindly see that our client has the required explosives as soon as possible? This one would be an unworthy man of consumerism if we did not offer the goods as needed. That would be rude, and we are never rude or unkind." "Very well." Teara nodded. She had long since become accustomed to the strange male's odd behavior. "Anything else, Mr. Oul?" Teara asked as she took a step back, eager to be out of the gaze of the bird that watched her. "There is, actually." Jin'li replied slowly. "This one has an appointment to keep near Ul'dah and will be absent for a few suns. Would you kindly water the plants in this one's office and handle any business that arises while this one is away?" "I.." Teara was unsure of what to say. She ran a great deal of the company, tracking the flow of goods, money, and needed muscle, but to have full reign over the company to make decisions without her superiors approval, even for a few days was unexpected. She had not been working for Trythian Oul industries that long. "I will do my best, Mr. Oul." "This one is most pleased." Jin'li said with a bow. "You honor this one with your acceptance. Though, you need fear not, for you shall not be alone." As Jin'li rose, the bird on his shoulder flew off and landed on Teara's shoulder. The bird blinked and adjusted itself as if it belonged. Teara had to swallow. "We will be watching you. To make sure you do not come to harm."

Zeig Hengner had always been getting into trouble. Trouble had followed him growing up. It Followed him into adult life. But now, he was causing it. The black-haired hyur had joined Scythe awhile back, ready to help the massive Roe change it all by bringing the violence upon the system. And now, with a gunblade in his hand, Zeig, and his five fellows, were going to raise the hells upon the alleys of Uldah. Zeig grinned as he heard distant cries. This, this was what he wanted. It was addicting. Many people bitched about things but never tried to change them. Zeig and his fellows were actually doing something to bring about change. Words wouldn't change the world. Violence would. Just as it always had. The hyur and his five fellows were carving their way up the seemingly deserted road, their steel weapons glinting as the rebels swung them as happily as they pleased. What Zeig was not pleased with was the sudden appearance that occurred before him as a figure in a blue duster coat stepped out from a doorway and blocked their path. The miqo'te's flesh was a deep tan and brown hair hung about a narrow face. The eyes were hidden behind reflective glasses, and a brown tail was twitching behind his muscled torso. Smoke from a lit cigarette burned in his lips, shrouding his face in smoke as a twin pair of double-barrel, flintlock pistols rested one in each hand. Ki Grimsong studied Zeig and his entourage of revolutionaries with a smug look of disdain and he spoke slowly, making sure the idiots could understand him. "I think we can skip the pleasantries." Ki commented flatly as a gust of wind tugged at his hair; smoke wafting out of his mouth as he spoke as if he was Ifrit itself. "You are all a bunch of brainless idealists; and I ain't here for any other reason but to put ya down on behalf of well payin' parties. So, that said, there are three ways this can end." Zeig tightened his grip on his gunblade as he glared at Ki, who continued to speak. "One: you pay me more than what I'm being paid to kill you and I leave you to your fun." Ki paused and, when Zeig didn't take the option, the Miqo'te shrugged. "Option two is you try to pay me more than what I'm getting paid to kill you, but you fail to exceed that sum, and I still kill you. Or, option three, you shoot first, and I make that the last bad judgement call you ever get to make." Ki blew a smoke ring and shifted the cigarette to the left side of his mouth. "Gentlemen, what's it gonna be?" Zeig rolled his eyes, raised his gunblade, and went to fire. Ki saw the hyur and his fellows raising their firearms and sighed. "Why is it always option three?" Ki threw himself behind a stack of boxes to his left as the bullets from the rebels' weapons began slicing through the air. Several shots ricocheted off the street's surface as Ki pulled his tail around into his lap to keep it safe. The tanned miqo'te set his twin pistols onto the ground and reached into his coat with both hands. Ki spat out his smoldering smoke as he produced two things from his coat. The first was a mask made of leather and metal. The lower part of the mask was a metal breathing apparatus equipped with a filtration system that trapped toxins inside a small reservoir tank so the wearer could breath normally in harmful atmospheric conditions. The top part of the mask was a set of goggles sewn into a full leather face covering. Ki shook his head and his glasses flew off into the street. A bullet whizzed past and the glasses exploded as the projectile disintegrated them. Ki growled and rolled his mismatched eyes, one gold, one black, as he slide the mask over his face. "Those cost me one hundred gil ya tossers!" Once the mask was snug on his face, Ki looked down through the mirror lenses of his gas mask as the canister in his left hand. It was a small, metal cylinder with a red stripe painted on it and something written in a language clearly not Eorzean. The miqo'te reached out and pulled a pin from the top of the cylinder and then released the primer handle. Immediately a thick, noxious, green gas began spewing out the end. Without a moment's hesitation, the mercenary lobbed the smoking cylinder over his shoulder at Zeig and his allies, who had stopped firing momentarily. Zeig watched as the can landed in the street and bounced up towards them. The hyur growled and went for it as fast as he could, but managed to get a face full of the gas as it spun. The moment the gas touched his face, the pain began. Zeig felt his lungs contracting and all the build up in his nose turned to a river of snot that drizzled down his face and lips. His eyes burned as if a thousand hot coals had been set upon them. Tears rolled from his eyes and he was trying to scream but his throat was swollen. All the hyur could do was wheeze as he staggered around blindly. Zeig could hear the agonized screams of his fellow rebels and he was trying to find the edge of the cloud, but the gas was expanding; consuming more and more of the street. There was a muzzle flash in the green fog, and a jet of blood sprayed Zeig on the face as a body slumped down in his path. Zeig could barely recognize the cadaver before him as one of his allies through his watery eyes and the hyur rebel turned and fired blindly into the cloud around him. There was another scream. And then the sounds of a struggle. Gun shots. Crunching noises. Zeig heard someone's bone's snapping like twigs and a horrible scream. Zeig was panicking. He couldn't see and his fellows were dying all around him. He began staggering as fast as he could. Another scream. More gun shots. Zeig burst from the fog cloud and gasped. Fresh Air! Zeig staggered several paces from the cloud, sobbing for breath. One of his men screamed behind him and there was a horrible crunching noise. The scream went on and on before the report of a gun blast silenced it. The hyur could hardly see a thing, his eyes stung so badly and tears would not stop welling up in his burning eyes. He had to cant his head to one side to get any visibility. The wall of green fog before him shifted and rolled. Shapes and shadows moved but nothing solid to see. Then there there was a flash of blue at the cloud's edge. Zeig spat in pain and aimed as best he could as he fired his last two rounds. Both bullets went wide. A moment later, Ki Grimsong burst from the cloud bank like a nightmare straight from hell. The miqo'te's hands were empty of any weapon but blood was dripping from the left appendage like rain from a tempest, and it was clearly not his own. Zeig tried to swing his weapon at his charging foe, but the burning gas had constricted and cramped his muscles and the attack went wide. The unaffected mercenary ducked under the clumsy blow with ease before slamming into Zeig with enough force to send both males tumbling to the ground. They rolled and scuffled as Zeig dropped his gunblade and began biting and kicking like a mad man. Ki stopped the roll by pinning Zeig beneath him. Ki's left hand was wrapped around Zeig's throat and the hyur felt as if an anaconda had found its way to his wind pipe. Zeig flailed wildly, punching and clawing at the arm and the horrible, masked face with the reflective lenses. Zeig's eyes were starting to clear, and he could just make out his own swollen, purple face reflected in those horrible mirror lenses hovering over him, when the hidden blade from Ki's wrist shot out and into the hyur's throat, severing the artery and spinal column nerve endings. Zeig shook uncontrollably as blood began filling his throat. He gargled and foamed and the last thing the hyur ever saw was his own dying face reflected back at him in those merciless lenses. Ki watched Zeig breath his last, though it came out as a bloody gargle. The miqo'te grunted, his breaths sounding like the respirations of a blasphemous abomination through the gas mask. The mercenary slowly rose to his feet as he slid his wrist blade free from the dead man's throat. Ki pulled out a rag with his right hand and began to clean the blade as he looked back. The gas cloud was dissipating and the remains of the other five rebels could be seen now, all lying in various poses of death, their blood polling around them as they lay still. Ki flexed his blood drenched left hand and the glove that covered it cracked as the leather stretched. "You know...." Ki said through his respirator piece as he admired his handy work. "I -really- need to be charging more for this."

Ki is a true mercenary and has one IC pet peeve that normally goes like this: Ki: "Just so you know, I'll shoot you in the back if someone offers me gil too." One of many people who hire him: "Course you would." (Totally disbelieving) (Later) Ki pulls out pistol and shoots employer. One of the people that have hired Ki and been shot in the back: "WHY?!" Ki: "I FREAKIN' TOLD YOU ALREADY!" But OOC, I am a little amused by constantly hearing in /tells: "God, Ki would be so hot if he would just shut up." :frustrated: My character is not your model! I like him bein' an asshole! LEAVE KI ALONE! lol

I made a character once. He was a sick butler cat with super manners and lots of diseases. Then Osric shot him on the bridge to death after sick kitty lead a mass terror campaign against Ul'dah and complicated loads of player characters and their stories. So the sick little kitty was resurected into a new body, a female body and fused with a female soul and became an assassin. Then the female soul kicked out the little cat soul but little soul defied death and managed to crawl out of the very realm of chaos back into reality where he currently plots to destroy all of creation with his new void powers. Jin'li is so snowflake it hurts. He is op, special, and unique. And you know what? I never force anyone to rp with him but a bunch of people actually really enjoy rping with him. So just cause you have a dude that -stretches- cannon laws don't mean they can't be fun for people. Especially if they are a baddy. My.normal dude, Ki, is about as generic as they come. Lol.

You gotta live and let live baby. People are here to rp and have a good time. And we all have different versions of "a good time." Some people love dat ERP, so let 'em. Some people love to have deep, complex plots that span months of real world time. *Stares wide eyed and Roen and Nero* Some people just want to kick ass and take names, hence why the Grindstone is so huge all the time. Point is, everyone is writing basically fan fiction, and you will not agree with everyone's fan fiction. Honestly, I think Warren has a great idea. For example, if I come across someone who doesn't believe something my character has done and calls them a looney IC, I'm just going to rp they are drunk or disillusion and kindly excuse myself IC from them. No need to throw an OOC issue. And if someone makes an outlandish claim, like saying a bunch of Garlean Airships blew up Ul'dah or something and I'm in Ul'dah, which in my universe is fine, I'm simply gonna have my character look around and shrug and roleplay that my character thinks the other character is crazy. I'm still getting to roleplay a brief scene but I'm not attacking anyone's version or their story OOC. People have a right to write their fan fic, so let them. Just cause they wrote it, don't mean you gotta treat it as the golden writ from the hand of God themself. RP fun. It's a game. Its made of 1's and 0's. It could all get deleted tomorrow by a solar flare. So have with it and don't waste your time hatin'.

Askier became Askier because I needed a character smart enough to blow shite up, have a back story that made him a tragic hero, and be powerful enough to be terrifying as a villain since he ended up as the antagonist for my very first world event where Askier tried to blow up Ul'dah for his Garlean superior. Honestly, when I first made him he was just an illiterate woodcutter. Though that became his cover story as he gathered his bomb parts after he went full Garlean Bomb maker. Honestly, wasn't planning on him survive the first event *shrug* It was all Melkire and Zac Evan's fault Askier continued to exist. Rofl. Jin'li became an evil half dead thing because, well, he's to much fun to play and i can't stop. I try to kill him off like a good boy. But Jin'li...is...so...KIND. As for Ki, yeah he's just an asshole cause I needed a character that wasn't dead or evil. lol. I wanted someone who could basically fit with any group for rp events so I made a mercenary obsessed with coin whose morality existed simply when he was paid to have one. Has worked out pretty well. lol

Once upon a time, Askier was the number one bomb maker in Eorzea from the Garlean Empire. Oh yesh, he was an expert in improvised weapons, large pay-grade weapons, and even aether bombs, oh he could make them all better than anyone. He would strut around in a red coat full of so many pockets holding so many grenades, one wrong move could have leveled an Uldahian block. And then on day he exploded. Rest in Pieces, little guy. So if you need explosives, talk to Mihk'a. Kid is like Askier's protege or apprentice or something. I dunno. Weird, Garlean magitek cats

"You can't make me do this." the hyur glared through his goggles at the white-haired miqo'te that was gazing back back at him with unblinking, black eyes. Between them rested a massive table covered in Bunsonburners, vials, tubes, and countless more alchemy tools. "This is true." Jin'li conceded in his emotionless voice as he swept his gaze around the room. They were in a large, stone building that housed all of the research of the hyur that Jin'li calmly referred to as "The Doctor." The hyur had once worn a different face, but the individual's mind was what the albino miqo'te wanted. "Though, why resist? This could be your greatest truim-" "I already achieved that working for you." The hyur snarled. "I did the impossible. You, you should be dead! And what you ask of me now... its beyond murder! Its blasphemous science! It defies nature, it-" "Defies nature, my dear "Doctor"?" Jin'li's soulless, black eyes swept back to transfix the hyur with his blank stare. "This one wants it to. This one desires-" "What you desire is not my concern!" the hyur snapped. "I'm done with you. You defy death, kidnap me, and now plan to sin against all concepts of morality!" "This one would ask that you stop interrupting him." Jin'li blinked slowly. "It's very rude." The hyur stammered at the statement and Jin'li continued in a slow, monotone pattern: "As this one was saying, you were brought to free those who have been imprisoned by these-" "Imprisoned?" they hyur scoffed. "Just as you did me? I'm not here of my own will." Jin'li's face was blank. Whatever thoughts were forming behind the miqo'te's black eyes could not be guessed upon. After several minutes of ominous silence, Jin'li lifted his cane from the floor and pointed it towards the door. "This one does not wish for you to feel imprisoned, dear "Doctor". You may leave, then, if you so wish." The hyur gazed at the tiny miqo'te from behind his glasses. The "Doctor" knew better than most of the capable treachery this mad little male harbored inside his ruined mind. But the unease of being in the miqo'te's presence was stronger than the alarm bells ringing in the "Doctor's" mind. The hyur slowly edged towards the door, never taking his eyes off the black, onyx optics that watched him. The Doctor seized the door handle and stepped outside into the night as he slammed the door behind him. Jin'li heard the screaming that begin the instant the door shut as the thing he had left there attacked the hyur. It took nearly a minute for the agonized screaming to fade into bloody gargles and then silence. Through it all, Jin'li watched the growing puddle of crimson leak into the room under the door without moving. Eventually, the male limped over to a large desk, covered in the late hyur's research. Jin'li flipped through one book slowly before saying aloud: "This one seems in need of a new scientist. Perhaps the next will not be so rude as to interrupt all the time."

OOOO! I gonna try to play devil's advocate! Though I agree with what you said. Let's see.... What if a popular person does something you don't agree with could happen? For example, if someone popular role plays over the course of a month or two that they have become immune to tempering by Primals or that Dragons attacked Ul'dah with bombs or something and a bunch of other people role with it( a clique if you will), but a few other role players don't feel it's a valid idea, who is right? How does the community handle this? The popular person did work hard to develop said story. Does their opinion supersede the small group since they have more people backing them up because they are popular, and thus we have mob rule; or does the lore back up the little group and the popular guy has to change their character for the smaller group that is voicing their opinion? Or do they simply not role play with another, ever? Don't get me wrong, Reputation and Popularity are great, especially when earned for all the right reasons. Example, I think Warren, Zhavi, and Aya are awesome role players but I really only know them by their positive reputations on here. And sure, some people get an infamous reputation. But is it justified for people without a large footprint in the community to be nervous about how much authority one person my be exerting over a said community and if someone is doing that, how do those without as much sway over the public forum combat this occurrence? Just a fun food for thought.