Melkire

1. Raven 2. Knife 3. Jackal 4. Bilge 5. Mooring line

Can't stop won't stop 2pretty5me tpk9V8Y9WTo

I can tank or dps anything up to T5 and Garuda EX for people, and I'm not averse to grinding out dungeon runs for special glamour drops that people might want. ^^ All I could reasonably ask for Starlight would be for someone to help me get at least one DoH or DoL to 50. I'm so slow at leveling those. Also I could not reasonably ask anyone for the i110 scouting set that shit is SO EXPENSIVE HOLY CARP

Gimme. *grabby hands* EDIT: I've loved your work ever since you first posted your sprites, I've just been too shy to ask for a commission.

YES. IDIOT. WELL EXCUUUUUUUUUUUSE ME, PRINCESS! I might have gotten the wrong impression from her post. It sounded like, "okay so you all agree with each other so why is this thread even still going LET'S CLOSE IT BECAUSE DISCUSSIONS ARE BAD. DEBATES ONLY, NO COMRADERY, FINAL DESTINATION."

Arguing? I thought we were having a discussion. o_O Does every thread have to be a debate where two parties exchange volleys of arguments across a demarcated line?

If your goods are marked up by a ridiculous margin over the real market value (I'm loooing at you, glamour prisms) and I can still make a profit undercutting by 30% or more, you can be damned well sure that I'm gonna. Competition driving prices down is a good thing. Likewise for flipping goods that are selling below their RMV. If it's real scumbag practices you're after, let's talk about how market manipulation can result in one greedy rich bigger buying up a commodity to clean out the marketboard only to mark them up upon relisting them (see: tier IV materia). Pure profit at the expense of consumers.

http://compo.thasauce.net/files/OneUp_-_Bring_The_Whine_For_Xmas(PRC136).mp3 I regret nothing. Diddy Kong Racing forever.

The sergeant's eyebrows climbed up as the man took a deep breath and huffed it back out, one hand digging beneath his bandana to scratch at his hair. "Now there's a good question. Think it might be best if we work back to those suppositions o' yours, then work our way forward, eh? Gives me some time t'collect me thoughts, that's for sure." Osric drank down the rest of his glass and set the tumbler down on the table again, then slapped his knees as he leaned forward and frowned. He grunted, then shifted closer, resting his elbows on the table as he started to count off the fingers of one hand with the other. "We're both better if I'm hands off when it comes to markets and prices and investments and capital and all that wash.... Siftin' through the desert for bandits? Ain't easy without the constabulary, and purgin' those ranks is slow going. Always has been, always will be. Even more so for a single man o' my resources. You'd need a man o' the General's means without the shackles of his allegiance." The man's tongue all but dripped venom as he went on. "And unless you're willin' t'stand as dictator like the good Admiral, red tape's a coeurl. As for blackmail? I've no objections to that." He cracked a small smile. "Shite, do I look noble t'you? You must be blinder than I thought. Anyroad, most o' that lot are thrown in with the rotten side o' the Syndicate. As if I'd care for 'em." The sergeant paused for a moment. "Now, solving Jameson...." He shook his head. "A friend o' mine was once willing t'do the deed for me, but he's been in absentia for, shite, a good moon now. I'm sure we can arrange somethin'. Hells, he'd only need be out o' the city and away from pryin' eyes long enough for me t'slit his throat. But I won't be doin' the deed in the city. I've things to live for, and no, they ain't 'justice' or any o' that bilgewater." Justice is cruel. Had Justice won out, I would've died at Vesper. She showed me Mercy. Ain't that why I'm sittin' here now? He eyed the man sitting across from him. Nero Lazarov. Smuggler-turned-pirate, of a sort. A man driven by... what? He didn't know. He supposed he'd never know, given how reluctant Nero was to trust him. Whatever it was that drove the smuggler to such radical ambitions, it had something to do with Brass Blades. Brass Blades, and.... "You're right, I'd make an awful what's-it. Commerce wasn't ever a specialty for me. Neither was sellin' m'self, nor makin' proposals. Hells, someone once told me I didn't give a tuco's piss for Ul'dah. Took me a long while to see the truth and face it, but he was right. I don't. I care for some o' the people in it, and that sort o' sentiment doesn't hold any coin with anyone." The palms of his hands dropped to the tabletop as Osric pushed himself to his feet. "I once accused you of not givin' a thought to those who might perish. Now you're tellin' me that you want t'give them a chance, a place for the children. Ain't sure if you're lying t'me or to your own self. I suppose it doesn't matter." The man set his teeth, drew in another deep breath through his nostrils. "All I've ever wanted out o' you is the chance to walk behind you as the city burns. To reach into the dark alleys, the broken buildings, the shattered homes and pluck out those that can be saved from your fires. The innocent and the children." His hands clenched into fists, the leather squelching as they did so. The sergeant exhaled. Long. Slow. Steady. "For that chance, I'd hand you the keys to the kingdom."

No, what C'kayah is complaining about is more along the lines of listing some high-demand item on the marketboard, but then throwing up an advert in PF saying, "if you pay me this item's value, I'll take it off the market and reserve it for you; you can then trade me the listed price for the item itself".

For me, external stimuli leads to internalized conflict, and the conclusions that characters reach then determine how they react to a particular stimulus as well as their general behavior at the time. There has to be some sort of external stimulus on the character. Not because there needs to be, but because there always is: a character doesn't just exist in a bubble. If they did, they'd never grow or develop. Instead, their environment influences them, and they in turn influence their environment. I find that this approach works best when you've already decided on what kind of person your character already is as a baseplate/template/foundation for said growth and development. Here's an example. What kind of person is my character? A tired soldier out for a drink. What happened? A bar fight broke out at the tavern he's at. What goes through my character's head? He's had a long day, and he'd just like some peace and quiet. He's also friends with the proprietor and the staff, so he doesn't like how rowdy the fighters are being, especially as how they're damaging the furniture all of a sudden. What does my character decide to do? He leaves his drink to go break up the fight, of course. What's the result? It turns out one of the fighters is a highwayman who mugged the other fighter a few days ago. What kind of person is my character? A once-crooked-but-now-honest man who despises bandits. What goes through my character's head? The mugged man ought to get his money back. What does my character decide to do? He drags the highwayman outside to a poorly lit alley and beats him until the man makes good on reparations. What's the result? The mugged man gets his money back, and shows his gratitude and appreciation by offering to hire on the soldier once the soldier retires. You take this sort of thing far enough and you end up involved in, or coming up with your own, plot lines before you know it. Of course, this is a very reactionary way of going about it. You could also sit down and script a story for yourself, and then gradually ease your way into it while throwing out plot hooks to get other people involved, but that's never felt natural enough for me to enjoy doing so.

Don'tthinkdirtythoughtsdon'tthinkdirtythoughtsdon'tthinkGODDAMNIT!

Osric just wants Vylbrand, Aldenard, Ilsabard, and everyone on them to come to a screeching halt for a short time. Peace. Quiet. Etc. tl;dr: he wants The World's Time Stop. TtZmBqAr-pk

OMG color me amused, hahaha. Sei, Warren, Chachanji, and Coatleque, if I'm not mistaken.

He took up the black oil pastel again and carefully etched a hatch pattern onto one of the marble towers to represent the shadow cast by the fading daylight. His little notepad of doodles would never amount to anything, but Osric took pleasure in the simpler pastimes of life, even when there was no practical application to be found in them. He was horridly shite when it came to faces, but landscapes and structures... aye, those lines he could manage just fine. The midlander sighed as he looked back up at the glimmering vista of ocean and the city of Limsa Lominsa what rode those waters. Lymlaen was working up a pleasant breeze this evening, one which merited compliments, but his mind was elsewhere. "So y'came back. Why?" "Tried a moon in the Shroud. Hated it. Made me uneasy." The young Hyur lad sitting beside him shrugged as he leaned forward to pluck a small smooth stone from the grass at his feet. "I'm not like you. You might find the sands comforting, but the trees were suffocating me. So once I made sure Ma and them were all settled-like, I snuck aboard some sod's timbers." There was a moment of silence as the boy juggled the pebble. He turned a smirk on Osric. "Besides, you still need someone here. Someone you can trust." "Not badly enough t'risk you," Osric scoffed as he shifted on the boulder to face his little brother. "Never badly enough t'risk you. Go home, Tom." Thomys Melkire rolled his eyes as he leaned to one side and pitched his stone out over the cliff and into the ocean. "I am home. Grew up in those gutters. Born in them. Not like you, 'gutterborn'. Never had what you had, and I've Da to thank for that. So let it go, Ossy. I'm happiest here." The elder son reluctantly returned to his doodling for some time. The cries of seagulls drifted to them from the rocks below. At last, he ceased his agitated scratching, dropping his pastel on his lap and throwing his hands up into the air. "Fine, fine! Stay. Like I'm givin' a rat's arse whether y'do or don't. The twins are out, and so's Ma. You're old enough t'risk your own hide, so... fair enough." His brother smiled. "Fair enough." Osric sighed again as he reached up and rubbed at his temples. "That out o' the way... better y'tell me now who you're runnin' with, Tom, so I don't wet m'breeches later. The Colibri? The Ziz? Please tell me y'ain't runnin' with the Skites...." Thomys all but giggled. "Hardly. I'm with Jacke." The former problemsolver's face fell, utter disbelief painted across his features. "Jacke? As in Jacke o' the Dutiful Sisters o' the Edelweiss? That scrag?" "Cove," muttered Thomys absentmindedly as he lifted a stick and starting drawing in the dirt, smile still on his face. "Oh, Matron's teats, it's the Rogues' Cant for Tiny Tom. After all that talk o' hatin' Thieves' Cant--" "--grammatically and syntactically moronic--" "--as if I know what y'mean by that, and why in the seven hells didn't you sign on with the Jackals?" "What, the crew you ran with? Done in by the jacks four cycles ago." "...oh." They went back to the relative silence of scratches for a time, as one drew on paper and the other drew on earth. There came the tolling of the bells from Limsa, and the dull crack of distant musket fire. The wind died down for an instant, then picked up again, the sea breeze carrying the scent of fresh fish. "So," murmured the lad as he plucked a green linkpearl from his ear and held it up, "what did you call me for?" Osric huffed a breath. "Information. I need t'have words with every fence 'n' runner I can get m'hands on, and I needed t'have those words three suns ago." Thomys shook his head. "Impossible, you are. What happened to that Keeper you were keen on? The way you went on about her, folks would've figured you were fawning over some pet that had done you proud." "Kink and I had a... falling out. Besides, in your last letter y'said she'd disappeared. That still the case?" "Right off the edge of the map, aye." He tossed the stick aside, clapped his hands and rubbed his palms together. "Alright, fences and streetrunners it is. Might take me longer than usual, most folks have clammed up on me since I joined the guild." "Piss, I wonder why," Osric said wryly. "Sod off. You're running out of light." "I know, I know." The once-thief-turned-soldier returned to his drawing.

Low rumbling chortles drifted down from the rafters as a midlander clad in brown leathers leaned back against a support beam and chucked the paper he'd been reading to the cobblestone floor below. Candlekeep Quay was quiet tonight... or rather, it had been, until his laughter had filled this warehouse. He sighed rather theatrically despite his lack of audience. "Crofte, Crofte, Crofte," he murmured, the smirk on his face slowly growing into a full-blown shite-eating grin. "Warned you about the quality." The man glanced down for a moment at his copy of the Tonberry's Lantern, a pensive frown suddenly tarnishing his features. He snorted, then broke back into that sinister smile. "Just goes t'show," he grunted as he scratched his back and drew his bandana over his face to settle in for the night, "there's no such thing as good press."

Let's not kid ourselves, E.V.E. applauds infiltrating a corporation and making one's way up the ranks only to later steal entire fleets' worth of ships out from under the corp's noses. Recuperating the initial investment of a plot in XIV is nothing in comparison, and E.V.E. players would either laugh or scoff at the suggestion. That's all this is, really. FCs and individuals "selling" first-come first-serve rights. I don't condone it, but hey, folks are trying to make back the gil they spent. If anything, we should be shaking our heads at how poorly implemented housing is, such that an individual or FC cannot sell their house to another individual or FC. Instead, you are forced to demolish the existing structure, which in turn forces the new tenant to spend even more in order to rebuild the same exact structure, all in the name of additional gil sinks.

Is not. http://images3.sw-cdn.net/model/picture/625x465_1695578_2404410_1402202105.jpg[/img]

It doesn't matter how many times Osric picks up a skillet, his meals will always be the culinary equivalent of cyanide.

Game Title: The Linkpearl Game Type: Third-person Sandbox Platform: PC Plot Summary: An investigation is triggered when inspector Osric Melkire meets privately with Commander Swift following the acquittal of Jameson Taeros after a key witness changes her story. Melkire tells Swift that the witness has probably been intimidated by members of a drug trafficking empire run by Taeros' employer, Lord Lolorito, having recognized several faces at the trial, most notably Lolorito's second-in-command, Zazuka Zuka. He also tells Swift that nobody is investigating Lolorito's criminal activity, which includes a significant portion of the city's drug trade and several unsolved homicides. Special Moves: N/A. Enemies: Refugees! Monetarists! Lackeys!

This thread was only tempting... until Razaul posted in it. Gods damn you. Character Name Osric Melkire Theme 4F7yrMt4aoU Stage Description The Goblet! Houses, mansions, backalleys, waterways... mwuahahahahahaha! Moveset Description Thrown daggers provide incentive to close with Osric; stay too far out, and he'll win by way of attrition. Close, though, and you have to deal with a pugilist's and monk-in-training's devastating blows. Of course, since he's a ruttin' whoreson of a sneaky thief shite, gap closers are par for the course. Special Moves (or Limit Breaks if you wanna be fancy) Bluff: Osric raises a hand to one ear. Opponent takes minimal damage regardless of relative position unless opponent guards/blocks/parries. Mutilate: Osric plucks downed opponent from the floor only to draw his knives and slice them up, cutting right through them to the other side. Call for Backup: A line of explosives erupts along the ground, three times in rapid succession, from Osric's side of the arena to the opposite side, juggling the opponent if any of the hits connect. The last round is immediately followed up by three volleys of arrows fired through the air along the same direction. Nemesis Jameson Jameson JAMESON no, I won't get you pictures of Spider-Man, you'll just have to get Parker on that for you. Intro Quotes General 1: "Cheat, run, or die!" General 2: "Care for a game?" General 3: "This is for her." Against Warren Castille: "Twelve forbid you step out o' that tin can, ser, lest we start thinkin' y'aint a coward." Against Lanza Razaul: "Shite, Razaul, there anythin' up there that ain't stuffin'?" Win Quotes General 1: "Cheaters prosper." General 2: "I win, you lose." General 3: "You've kept me away long enough." Against Warren Castille: "This must be downright embarrassin' for you. What's that? The Grindstone? This ain't it, man." Against Lanza Razaul: "Gods, man, there ain't anything down there, either!" Lose Quotes General 1: "Can't... endure..." General 2: "Cardsharp...!" General 3: "Shite... she's... waitin' for me... t'come home..." Against Warren Castille: "Stow the speeches, eh? Paladins ain't supposed t'gloat." Against Lanza Razaul: "Aight, aight, Thal's Balls, drinks are on me."

Askier converted. Adonis dead. Jin'li dead. Taeros still a PAIN IN MY CHARACTER'S ASS (and vice-versa, you fop, let's see how you like it). Delial still... Delial. But less Delial. Better Delial, so good Delial. Which is bad Delial? I don't even know anymore, mang. Banurein still an enigma waiting just over the horizon. Zhavi is like a bug that no one's gotten around to squashing yet. Nero still frustratingly straddling the anti-hero/antagonist terminator relative to my character. Just about everyone on Osric's personal linkshell is at least passive-aggressive towards him. But then, if I start getting into everyone who's miffed at him, this post would be several pages long.

I thought it fairly obvious from the Applications & Fees page that "ceremony" was referring to the whole thing. Not the ceremony options, or the ceremony style, but THE CEREMONY, including attire, bonuses and everything. /shrug EDIT: I mean for Christ's sake the page header is always "Ceremony of Eternal Bonding". The whole thing is "the ceremony".

I've been facepalming all day at this. The Eternal Bond promotional site makes it fairly clear that, if you want a Gold package or a Platinum package, then both participating individuals need to purchase the same package. The disclaimer also makes it fairly clear that if your packages don't match, you will both be downgraded to the lesser of the two. In short: if you and/or your partner want the Gold ceremony and rewards, you must both buy the Gold package. If you and/or your partner want the Platinum ceremony and rewards, you must both buy the Platinum package. The only exception is if one of you buys the same package twice and then hands off one of your two wristlets to your partner in-game. Even then, you must buy two of the same package. The internet has an amusing way of casting light on the illiterate and the stupid.

Wine-red, black, wine-red and black, assorted browns, the rare green.... It's sad that green is him at his most colorful, and yet I haven't had an IC outfit in that color in a long time. I really need the i110 scouting gear ASAP. ; ;