Jancis

I hear the call! I come anon! I suppose I could be convinced to wear something above the knee without leggings. Just need to L2Glamour and I'll come prepared.

I agree it sounds like a happy accident. (Eternal Love Bob Ross) Role play thrives on conflict and a little one like the annoyance of people making an assumption in-character is always a good way to get the ball rolling. It becomes something to tease the character about, interact with them, draw people to them, or even create rivalries. I think mistakes bring out great flaws to use in characters so go with it.

I am really happy that Hornet asked this question, because I have been also struggling with the same problems with Jancis. I continue to try to have her around and available for some activity and the right time/right place simply isn't happening. I wrote up a very simple short story arc because another role player asked me to do something more with Jancis' past. I tried to hit a balance between its connection with her and being a story all on its own for a mini adventure. I started it with some immersion pictures and I have some basic ideas on if the story goes in a different direction; I was looking forward to that idea. That person who I was relying on to pull other people into the story IC is gone now and the few people Jancis has connections with really didn't show any interest in participating. Where is a good line of IC and OOC to say "I have a little plot if you have the time." between Jancis' awkward apologies and trying to tell someone else about her troubles? There's also the point with how many alts are worth while to create, but that could be its own thread. Still any ideas on how to recruit people into an active story?

One thing I noticed at the last Grindstone is this man has some strange unseen magical bag of holding or other such orifice where daggers emerge from in a fight! :lol: Just being silly; it was a great fight and very entertaining! ~~~~ Considering Jancis is a conjurer and grew up in a mostly rustic/survival-based mentality, she doesn't own many particular things. Conjurers, by nature, use un-worked wooden staves and wands to work their art, per say, so really any old stick will do, per say. I have Jancis usually walking around disarmed so at times if that comes into question the leather straps she wears over her palms and thumbs will usually have some kind of wood worked into the wrist straps kind of like that full-metal alchemist guy who had the pre-drawn thing on his hand/glove. That way she can use her hands to heal. She also has a small charm from her childhood which she believes is from her true family typically, but she gave that to some guy she has a crush on... honestly she needs to be more careful with stuff.

Mantis, green and strong. Deadly pincers, razor sharp. Waiting for his chance. in meditation watching water dancing all in solitude

I got to see a sneak peek of the Crow! Granted Jancis thought the guy was telling a spooky story since it was at the Pumpkin Cafe, but the word is out!

Holy snappies! That's a lot of games. I never got introduced into the real fun that CoH offered, but I hear people talk about that game all the time here so it's a warm community of the same kind of folks. Also another MUDer! I use to play a MUD called Achaea for years, fantastic role play world. Fantastic to start out with a person training as you learn the world they mesh well. Welcome aboard!

It's okay CC can curl up in this new hoodie I had made.

Three Jobs! Hard worker plays Hard too I'm sure! Have to agree with Zhavi, the men avatars in this game are really pretty. :blush: Everything save for those creepy toads are really pretty in this game. Thing I do for getting on Balmung is set up the appearance you want, then in the morning create the character and move on. Granted the cut scenes are annoying, but it's really nice they allow appearance saves to make the morning process less taxing on the brain.

Jancis nodded at the lieutenant. There was no point in agruing with her. "Milburga. You need to make more decisions yourself. Cost us time looking for an actual lead to bring in Laun. I've got nothing on him." Caprel explained. "But if this stuff is stolen we can at least track it back to where it came from. I don't want some other sop missing out on these items. Calamity already took enough. So listen up." [align=center] [/align] "First, I want this handled quietly. No coats. No badges. You are to go to Laun, and I don't care who you have to take with you, and you are finding out where that stuff came from. We have nothing on him, so use whatever else you got to make him talk. He's probably still in Swiftperch. Find him. Understood?" "Yes, Lady." "Clear as crystal?" "Pardon?" Jancis asked. "Disregard that, Milburga." Carpel looked away, picking up her clipboard again to look at it. She looked at it and frowned for a minute. "There will be an auction before the next moon, always do it. Bunch of vagrants and merchants come out to bid on stuff we've confiscated. Stuff that hasn't been claimed. You have that long to find out the person this stuff belongs to. Dismissed."

Lt. Carpel sat in her small office that she shared with three others. Papers were limited, thankfully, but the office was cramped with extra chests. No other chairs besides the one for the small desk was in the room so all others had to stand. The door was left open, per usual, with the bulky Maelstrom overcoat hanging on it. The roe flipped through a clipboard making marks on it. Jancis knocked on the doorway, looking in. She was in her cherries (as Alveo put the name for the uniform) and held her cover. "Enter." The medic turned back to pick up the painting, wrapped in fresh paper, and came in the office. "A little late getting that back to me, Milburga, I had to call for another hold on the shipment and send on a notice to the receiver. Where's Camp?" the lieutenant's voice was stern and obviously displeased. "Forgive me, Lady, he was called to the North on urgent matters. Alas, I have few details beyond a wyvern attack and-" Jancis was interrupted. "He failed to inform you that by the Maelstrom having to send on notice gives Laun a huge advantage to know we are looking into his goods. He's going to be ready when we show up at his door. Last time I give Camp anything in good faith; have any idea what a lead we had? Give me some good news. Give me a name of who this belongs to." Carpel leaned back in her chair staring Jancis right in the eye, "Tell me this person has claimed them stolen." "Ah, forgiv-" "Don't give me that. I don't want your frill. Yes or no you have a name." "I have no-" "Yes or no." "No." The lieutenant tossed her clipboard on the desk, freeing her hands to pinch the skin between her eyes. Jancis stood there with an empathic look and Carpel, once looking up, eased up. "I want you to tell me, in as few words as possible, why." So Jancis stood there and obediantly explained: the likeness in the painting, the charm from the bracelet, the design on the plates, everything she was familiar with. She explained how she had spent the days pondering the possibility of the connection and the ramifications it posed to her present life. She had taken the counsel of Sir Iono which in his mind felt the need to find closure; his family was intact and his past of great value to him so that was the obvious answer he would afford. Sir Filangieri, whom Carpel never heard of, offered a different opinion; he got pent up on the assumption that Camp had stolen the painting. Yet overall with all of his advice and replies the clear answer was the past was just that, past. The loss of his family (and their seedy dealings that the then young knight was excluded from) made it more apparent that the future was more important than digging through the trash of other failures. He did offer to take the painting to have it appraised by the artists and merchants of Ul'dah, hoping to find the painter and In either case, both were too busy with their own problems to come with Jancis here. "So you held off because you didn't want to come here alone." Carpel summarized.

That water color style is so cute. Plus it has Roxas and just... Roxas... those 3D eyes... :blush:

Jancis sat quietly on the airship back to Limsa. She had traveled to Ul'dah for the night to get away from the ship-city and clear her head. The bustle of the Jewel was a good distraction from her problems, but then as if Thaliak cued it, up walked the dark highlander with the kind eyes. She had confessed what little she knew to Oscare there in the Quicksand. That there were items in question, that she was pressed for an answer she didn't have. A shipment had come into Limsa with questionable goods. Goods she recognized yet had never seen before. It was more than coincidence. Oscare had encouraged her to pursue it. "I know how it feels to see an object or objects and just feel that it belongs to you. It's a humane feeling." She sat there, bracing herself for the sways as the airship hit a gust in its route. He was right, she had always followed her heart before. Something Sir Filangieri would have echoed just as true. "It'll help you get over a dark chapter of your life, maybe. Or maybe offer the answers to those 'un-answerable' questions." Was she afraid of what she might learn? Was she afraid of how she would react in knowing? Oscare claimed it would offer closure and Jancis bemused if that would be at a great cost. "Envy is a useless emotion for all involved, Jancis. Envy doesn't accomplish anything. Envy is the emotion you feel when you desire something you cannot have. But you can have this." She could have closure. His words had heartened her. "Go investigate the goods again whence you have the chance. Maybe you'll find something you didn't see earlier.Give everything a second glance all over. Your feelings are your untrained instincts. They're trying to tell you something." Perhaps there was time to look into this a bit. The way Oscare had acted before he departed filled her with concern. The present was far more important than a glimpse of an unknown past. But perhaps there was a little bit of time.

Lieutenant Carpel looked over the manifest a couple times. She had given permission to Sergeant Camp to take the portrait in question and one of the broken plates. The name Laun was familiar, though not Ecfen. Mister Laun was a businessman in the loosest of terms, always skirting the law in a delicate weave of loopholes. She wasn't sure if this Ecfen was a youngling doting the old man's name. Either way she had agreed with the Sergeant's concern for the shady crate, despite the junk that was in it. The contents had been gone through and documented, but nothing of real question had come up. If an owner could be found to claim this crate and, more so, claim them as stolen property, it would give the Maelstrom a much needed edge in bringing in Laun and closing down his operations. She had ordered Sergeant Camp to bring in the person he felt was the owner. Whomever his hunch was had better be good for it. In the morning, Carpel walked into her office. She waited. _________________________________________________________________________ Jancis had been at out, working overtime for the Maelstrom at the docks. The foreman had given her some sob story about being short on hands to get some more of their cargo loaded. It was there that Alveo found her. He was wiser to the foreman's tricks, but didn't give the lalafell any lip. He was too concerned with getting Jancis back to the Still Shore to show her the portrait and plate. At first, she did not know what to make of it, staring at the painting immediately recognizing the charm the woman wore. The plate, too, looked familiar. Granted she had never actually seen this particular piece before, but the leaf design was familiar from other things she had grown up with. The night late as it was, the two retired, leaving some food and drink and some fresh clothes for Rynn when he finally came back. Jancis did not sleep that night, she could not get the image out of her head. She could not get the question Alveo kept asking her out of her. "Is it yours?" Trying to be quiet, Jancis got out of bed and walked back in the darkness to the portrait. She picked up the broken plate and held it in her hands. Was it hers? She had given up such thoughts long ago of being more than a student to her guardians. But was no fool. She knew she had been orphaned or acquired in some such way. It was possible there was some remaining family, but in the few years she lived in Gridania with the Conjurer's Guild and working no one had made mention of it and her meager attempts to find out anything of the families in the area came up with nothing. She took the plate outside. A little after dawn she would have to head to Limsa and speak to this L-T, as Beloved had put it. Was it important to him? Was it important to her? Sitting outside alone, she waited for the Sun to rise and collected her thoughts.

Private Teern called out, aggravated "Sarge! Need ya to clear this cargo." Alveo sniffs and turns around, rubbing at his eyes as he steps toward the private,"... how many times I gotta tell you that I don't have to check every damned box... What is it?" Teern holds up a portrait looking at it himself, tearing off the rest of the protective paper. "Aye this one 'ere's been damaged. Shite box damn near rot through. Ya clear it fer me? Shift's almost done." "... No. You clear it your damned self. Oughtta have you work doubles, lately... Oi, where was this shipment from again?" Alveo steps a bit closer, folding his arms and leaning forward to peer sideways at the portrait. He exhales lightly, but sharply, then straightens, looking up at the liner, "Ahhh..." Teern stammers and puts down the painting, craning over to look at the crate and then his ledger. "Shipped from Vesper Bay... Huh. Funny that... it stopped in a few places. Where is Apkallu Falls? That's not a place to ship from. Nope... nope. Damn can't find that nowhere." Alveo rolls his eyes and snatches at the ledger, stepping back and leaning against other crates as he scans it, occasionally looking to the painting with a cocked eyebrow and clicking tongue. He gnaws on his lip, then looks up at the private with an incredulous expression,"... You're a fuckin' dolt." He looks at the painting and tilts his head slightly, finally breaking into a mildly confused expression,"... recognize the person in that picture? Ain't like... a famous lady or somethin', is it? Not from Gridania?" Teern curses under his breath; his arms free. He digs in the crate again pulling out one of the broken plates. "Eh? Nah never see that bitch 'efore. Ain't one of those padjals. They all look like kids. But her, nay she's older. Look like Gridania though. All those trees in the background. Must be rich. Some rich folk. Take a look at this plate, kinda matches." The plate itself was green and blue in design, a mix of some of the regular flora from the Limsa and Gridania area were someone familiar with leaves and plants. A seashell outline flavored the middle of the plate along with a silver edging. Other items from the set would look similiar: cups, plates, and bowls. A stamp shows the mark of a Gridanian crafter on the bottom of each piece. Alveo glances sidewars at Teern before exhaling a short, quiet chuckle and stepping to the crate in question, peering into it for a moment before reaching for the broken plate and eyeing it over, mumbling,"... any actual contraband?" Alveo kneels and looks back and forth between the plate and the portrait for a minute, lips pursed. After a minute, he sets the plate and ledger aside on the deck and brushes the painting with a gloved thumb, paying special attention to a seashell-charm in the artwork. He leans to his right and reaches into his boot, removing a similar charm of his own to compare the two, silently. "Not that I can see. Bunch a ol' junk. Hoy what's that ye got there Sarge?" Alveo slowly stands, frowning slightly as he holds the charm in his palm for a moment, muttering,"Just somethin' my lady gave me... Figure... a rich family'd keep their shit in one piece, better shippin'... Wrap 'em up, red rope. Stamp it for inquiry, we're takin' this one to the office. Don't think it's legally acquired. Anythin' else on this ship I'd question?" The Private swore "Mother's arse... Aye Sarge. Nay nothing else outta th' ordinary. You headdin' there to check it out further or I gotta report to someone else with this shite?" grumbles already as he unceremoniously stuffs the portrait back in the crate and closes it back up. "... You're takin' it to L-T, not me. After that, you're gonna swab this whole fuckin' pier before you go home. I swear, if I see another muddy bootprint, you're on doubles startin' tomorrow." Teern starts to curse, but catches himself. "Aye Sergeant." He doesn't face the man, wrapping up the crate. "Oh... take the manifest for the whole ship with you. Tell 'em we need the whole thing copied." "Sarge come on it's a bunch of shite. Fuck!" Alveo sniffs and strides off the pier, calling back over his shoulder,"'Nother bit of lip, you're on doubles, Teern!"

((This story is in progress and will be built in-game and in-forum. It's character-specific development so anyone included will either be invited or their attempts to help/assist will be successful and be included. If you feel prompted to help and assist by all means share an IC PM to me and we can take it from there. Anyone involved can invite others into the story for their assistance etc. Not all attempts will be successful and the story has many possibilities to an end, however it's not going to be 20 people running around interrogating NPCs)) It was a typical day in Limsa. The sky was splattered with random clouds, bells were tolling in the shipyard, ladies were bustling around the markets. [align=center] [/align] A cargo ship sailed into port, unloading imported goods. The haul looked like typical dried fruits and nuts from Gridania, the seals from the recognizable merchants of the area and the botanists' guild. Two smaller crates come out mixed with the rest of the cargo, hoping to blend in with the others. Their boxes are old and have been re-used for years, the straw inside also reused. Private Teern was on duty checking the crates. It'd been a long night and now that the ending of the third shift was nigh, he was tired and ready to finish up as the other shift slowly trickled in. Looking over yet another ship's cargo he barely checked the contents, skimming over the endless amounts of common walnut bags. Passing one of the older crates, the Private kicks it. The wood cracks and the sound of china breaking inside is easily heard in the dock. A few yowls go up from the other dock workers, increasing the curses coming from Teern; he got caught and now has to report in. "Shite... Sarge! Gotta cabotage to tag 'n check." he calls out. Before the Sergeant on duty can make it there the Private already has his crowbar out. Cracking open the top and rummaging through the stuffing. "Huh," he says offhandedly pulling out a large framed painting. Without thinking, the man pulls down the paper and reveals a portrait of a woman. The oil painting was average size. Teern stared at what he could see for a moment before pulling away the rest of the portrait. She had light green eyes and auburn hair, pulled up into a decorative bun, with a fair complexion. She was adorned with lace blouse and a silver necklace in the shape of a seashell. The rest of the contents were mostly a set of china with a few glasses and other tableware oddities that didn't match the set. Teern looked over the rest of the crate including the instructions for it. Sighing, impatient for his shift to be over, he waited for the Sergeant to make his way to him and give him approval for the cargo.

Best Leviathan Run Ever Thank you to Franz, Berrod, Hornet, Sir Castille, and Roen for coming along for Coatleque's first run! (An N'una not pictured)

Warren, from a distance: Majestic and regal influence. Too easy

Jancis has a lovely spider shaped scar on her abodmen thanks to that shady hyur. Not that she knows it.

Lalalala the escort becomes the escorted. Start shelling out the cash Warren, your lady is in waiting for a free ride.

Jancis got to meet Howl at the last Grindstone. Another tough face that likes to be in pain and not accept healing... oi. He is so Warren's wing-man and bro from the couple times I've bumped into him. Also, don't fall for him; I noticed that ladies get shot down fast regardless of how nice they are. Welcome to the forum. I cannot keep up either with these crazy writers. Pro-tip Have Warren fill you in as much as possible because a lot of the stories here will be referred to in-game!

Me too, Hornet, me too. So hard to share soup at work. Le Sigh Work Hard Play Hard...

I did join one recently which might get some potential if it keeps getting built into. Estellise Levesque started one for people who are known for to be medics or healers and other adventurers kind of like a help hotline of linkshell connections. It hasn't gotten a lot of ground yet but it might be something to look forward to as it grows and more adventure role play pops up. Idea came up kind of from events like the Grindstone or other FC-based storylines when the typical healing crew was unavailable and someone could sub in to keep the plot going. Nothing on the forum board yet but she is online pretty much every evening EST.

NWN! Quite a few people here have played on that game and the fun worlds players made with that game. I use to play a few years in particular on one role play server that was LotR style called RoME. Also I can't believe the term MUSH. I played on a MOO for a short while based on Pern and I played years on a MUD named Achaea. So nice to have fun and motivated people joining! There's a Role play Handbook sticky that has a lot of useful information. http://ffxiv-roleplayers.com/showthread.php?tid=1770 I also know some other people play folk that escaped and Limsa has a good local community! Might bump into each other in character!

Thanks for letting me be part of the fun! But this is what Sir Melkire had to stare at for most of the time in his jail cell. At least he was unconscious. Zachary Evans...