Coatleque

Crofte can definitely help with part 1. If she finds out anything from Kiht in the meantime, she could also help with 2/3. As of this posting she doesn't know Verad's in trouble.

Alright, so after some thinking and arm twisting I can finally admit the following crushes: Brynhilde Wolf - Coatleque has never met this woman officially, but saw her at Otto Vann's fight club at Bronze Lake for a brief period. Gharen Wolfsong - One of the few men out there with the right combination of manners and authority. She would be too scared of Obsidian Hornet coming back for revenge to do anything though. Nero Lazarov - Another person she's only seen once. Too bad he turned out to be a little too evil. But for a brief moment she may have been jealous of Roen.

I would have to agree. Our opinions and census size are based on Balmung and the Role-play community. Their census sample is based off the entire playerbase. Even if Balmung is the highest density population, it is still only a fraction of the whole.

*pokes rock-hard abs* Nope... no soft sides there...

Working as intended! Crofte is one of those people who always appears in armor, official, on the job, etc. So when she does dress up on occasion it has maximum impact. And I agree entirely about the emotes. /surprised and /shocked are my favorite

Sometimes it does require the aid of another.

It does take some effort, but it is possible.

Coatleque does not crush. But that doesn't mean she can't admire some of the manlier forms who like to bludgeon themselves every Saturday.

Glamour. The Curtana / Holy shield basic is silver. The Zenith adds a slight glow to both. The Atma is white/gold The Animus adds a slight glow to both. For the longest time I only wanted that White/gold holy shield sans-glow. So I ground another 12 Atmas just for that stage. I still have it.

How is this panning out for you? I've been to the saucer only a few times, but I have yet to really see any RP going on there.

Eva, Nat, and Crofte look like they're looking at him as ghosts in some kind of nightmare/vision. I love it.

I'm waiting for the mouth to open and a tiny secondary mouth to come out and hiss at you.

It was just over half a bell when Coatleque finally returned to the house of Taeros. Her whole body was numb with the realization of what she had done that evening, and it was not until she had latched the door behind her that life became reality once more. She had stopped to shod her darkened armor for something more comfortable along the way but had no recollection of the event herself, so focused was she on the night itself. Not seeing James sitting at his desk, she stopped and leaned back against the door. Her eyes closed for a long moment as she breathed slow and deep. The fire had died down to the soft glow of embers while the rest of the lanterns had been dimmed as well, and the scent of spiced brandy clung to the air itself. It was an entirely different change from the earlier evening. One that was rarely seen at that. A mixture of somberness and mirth that failed to lift the pensiveness which had overtaken her. Her eyes had adjusted to the low light by the time she reopened them. Pushing off the door slightly, she crossed the room with slow and light steps as a sneak-thief trying to avoid detection. It felt to her as if everyone and everything was watching her now. She almost startled herself as she approached the room division and saw James sitting at the couch. Had she not taken a moment before he would have been obscured in the shadows of the room. In one hand he held aloft his snifter as he swirled the brandy within. The other hand held an open book which he idly glanced over as if it held no attention of his. Coatleque stood there quietly for a moment longer before speaking. "I have the item you asked for." She had withdrawn from her gil purse, just then, a folded handkerchief. It had been doubled over many times to form a tight-knit square. "Set it on my desk, if you will." he replied quietly. Her eyes darted about the room searchingly before she bowed her head once, and low. Turning about, Coatleque placed the folded square on the side of his desk. Her hand traced the wood grain as she pulled back before turning to face him again. "What will you do with her now?" she asked. He did not look up but merely swirled his glass again; The amber liquid within reflecting in his eyes over the dim glow of the fireplace. "She will, I hope, be enough to draw the pirate out from his proverbial cove." His voice held no great cheer, despite getting exactly what he had wanted this night. "We cannot lack courage in this. If opportunity presents itself, Lazarov must die. Quickly." he said softly. "And if she is not?" Coatleque asked earnestly as she stepped forward to the room division. "Then the war continues, as ever. More lives lost." he answered without hesitation before lowering his voice to a whisper. "Come sit with me, love." "Die? Like your man had to di..." She stopped herself just then and closed her eyes to compose herself. Moving through the portal she complied and sat, but across from him rather than next to him. Doing so, she leaned forward with her face hidden in her hands. "My man?" he asked with the raise of one brow. "Dirk, you mean. He was Mandercrown's man. I only paid him." Jameson said. His voice had taken on a familiar tone of annoyance she heard when it was clear she should have known something already. "Say what you mean. We are alone here, Coatleque." She barely heard him, truth be told. Her hands lowered as her face turned towards him with glazed eyes. "Who am I, James?" she asked with a waver to her voice. She had not even expected an answer, and what little willpower she had left was focused on keeping from breaking down into tears in front of him. He peered back at her searchingly. "Is that a question I should be answering? Or you?" She shook her head and looked down once more. "Who do you think I am, then?" She had called to mind past conversations where he had spoken so highly of her, treated her as if they were equals in some shared struggle of wills. "I've done nothing to be where I am, yet you speak as though I am some great warrior." He frowned, sitting up straighter upon the couch. "If you do not know, how should I? How did you receive your stripes? Am I mistaken that you still hold a commanding position within the 'Sworn?" The notion was met with the stifling of a sarcastic chuckle. "Commanding? I am just some dumb country girl who got lucky one day. I never asked for this... it was thrust upon me when Natalie was suspended." "Lucky in what way? Did an Ishgardian drake accidentally fall dead at your feet? I am confused." She looked back up and slowly shook her head, her eyes not leaving him. "I am no desert rose." Jameson canted his head. "I know. I was simply making a point. And in doing so, placing a trust. Should I not have?" "... A trust in what? That I would not take action?" "In your love.", he said softly. Coatleque's mouth opened to reply, but she found no words. She blinked and looked away from him once more. For the moment at least, his words seemed to have ground her again. "Forgive me if the night was too eventful for me to handle at once." "Is it Deneith or the hired blade that bothers you more? Or my poor heritage? You need to be steel." Jameson said evenly. "I cannot brook a wavering of your spine, Coatleque. I have already risked much for you. And thus far I have bound to every demand." Her gaze snapped back to him suddenly as her own rage began to ebb. "What have you risked? What have I demanded of you?" His own expression turned to annoyance now. "I risk all that I have in showing you truths. I trust you with my secrets. One word to Jenlyns and you could ruin me. Surely you see that." His voice grew steadily more angry. "I could be hung as a traitor." he nearly hissed. "As she almost was?", she almost spat back. "Indeed. They are not welcoming to our kind here." His voice lowered once more. "I thought you of all people would understand." Coatleque furrowed her brow and shook her head incredulously. "Then why do you stay?" His annoyance fell to an anger she had only seen once before. A seething rage that ended with his hand around her throat. "You would have me return to nothing?!" he said softly, after a long moment. She felt herself slinking backwards into her side of the couch instinctively. Her eyes met his with some worry behind them. "That is not what I meant at all..." Jameson's voice became clipped, pointed. "Then what did you mean? That you wish I were gone?" "N-no... this is not about what I wish... there must be some reason you stay this far from home. T'is all I meant..." She tried her best to clarify in her own soothing tone. He looked off towards the shadows of the room. The glow of the embers had all but gone out now. "A birthplace is no home. Have you ever seen Garlemald? Surely not." He shook his head slowly. "Never again. Deneith and I share that in common." Coatleque's gaze slowly shifted back to the floor, gazing at the patterns in the carpet forlornly. Whether she cared for his anger or not by then, she had seemed to resign herself to it. "I have never been." Jameson exhaled, long and slow. His rage did seem to subside. "You have not answered my question. You are clearly bothered by something. I would know the extent of your consternation." His words did not draw her gaze though. "I have betrayed a friend this night. I have watched an execution ordered. In either case I did nothing." "Duty then." he replied with a nod, pursing his lips. "The friend you betrayed has been conspiring to kill me. You brought me that news yourself. Yet I treated her with mercy, even kindness. And you still feel weighed?" She exhaled slowly herself now. "You did. More than I.", she sighed. "As for the man..." The corner of his mouth twisted to a distasteful sneer. "That was messy, I will concede. I am not normally that clumsy." "I do not want to know" She said, shaking her head ever so slightly. "But you should." he replied sharply. Reaching down then he picked at some (perhaps) imaginary lint on his pant leg. "The man was sent into my employ to spy on me. He would have had to have been dealt with eventually, lest he bring my secrets to that... harridan." Jameson sighed. "My carelessness merely stepped up the time-table." He peered at her once more, searchingly, as if trying to offer words of comfort. "You said no children," he continued softly, "and I swore to you." "You did." A long silence passed as she sat and mused over the night once more. What she had done, why she had to do it, what it meant for the future and for Ul'dah. Jameson sat respectfully as well, watching her from the other end of the couch. "I suppose...", she said at length, "... it is all just business then. That we are all merely pawns for the noble houses." Jameson took a deep breath. "We are all pieces on the board. It is our choice whether we are pawns or kings. My house is not noble. It is a fabrication." His voice lowered once more. "I intend to change that. But I need you." Her brow quirked. She could begin to fathom what he meant. Her heritage was no more noble than his own. "A fabrication. A trait we share then." she stated. He shrugged. "The noble houses are all fabrications. Built on the bones of weaker men and women. We all started in the same misbegotten pit, Coatleque. They are..." His voice turned back to his clipped and distasteful tone. "... merely longer fabrications." "Yet you had the wherewithal to climb your way out, while I had no choice." she said. His eys narrowed in annoyance at her once more. "If you are so displeased with yourself, perhaps you should just strip those fine clothes off right here, right now. I can use you in the way you originally intended." Now it was her turn to be annoyed, and she glared at him in silence. "Quit belittling yourself. You need be made of sterner stuff, else you will crumble." he continued. Another long silence passed as she sat with closed eyes. Her face fell back to her hands as she breathed slowly, deeply. Who had she brought Roen in for? "For Ul'dah", she told herself over and over. It was becoming harder to believe her own words, though, the longer she remained here with him. "He doesn't really need me. He is using me. Or is he? Why would he tell me these things? I told him I did not want to know..." Jameson rose and walked 'round the center table to her. He leaned in close to her, his voice hesitant. "I need you. Not just your armor. Not just your blade." His voice turned like sandpaper. "We are too far in to flinch, Coatleque. Far too in. There is no escape. For either of us." Standing upright again he offered her his hand. She swallowed hard and looked up to it, hesitating a moment before taking it with hers and standing beside him. "As you will. I stand with you then." "You serve too often." he said softly. "Let that change." The night passed with a new-found tenderness he had never shown before. In all their dalliances he had been determined, mechanical, almost hollow. Tonight their lips lingered strangely. An ache, all in its own, hovered over them both. A feeling that they are perched upon the edge of a yawning chasm, and either could slip and fall. He was right in that she holds his fate in her hands, but he equally held hers now. She was complicit as any base criminal if all the facts were spread across the board. Yet as she considered where she was, and all she had done, there was a nagging loneliness that he had filled. They were both so, so far in now. She could not turn back. In the morning as they both dressed to prepare for the day, he could not help but to assist her, leaving her beret askew as she sat by the vanity. He whispered in her ear. "Courage. I've still many players on the board, my Queen. But I need you to not falter." She righted the hat and combed out her hair again as he turned to button his coat in the mirror against the wall. She nodded once, feeling somewhat emboldened now this morning. "James... ?" She turned towards him. "Yes?" he asked, glancing back. "I... I love you. Please, be careful." He smiled at her. "And I, you. I will try." "Tell me... what you need." she said in almost a whisper. Yet it was also a command that carried a seriousness which was not present the previous night. "I have other irons in the fire,... " he replied as he fixed his testy lapel, brows furrowed. "... and not all in Ul'dah. Though this is our home." Content with his coat he came back to adjust her collar. Her murmured to her. "I need you to be what all the others expect you to be." Her head tilted to the side as she tugged on her gloves one at a time. "Well... most others.", he continued. She smirked. The two made their way back to the front of the office eventually. Jameson took his seat at the desk while Coatleque came around to the front. Roen's linkpearls were laid out before him. Coatleque tapped the desk with a finger. "One of those surely is direct to Lazarov." "Do we know which?" "No, but..." With that she removed all of her own pearls and laid them out one by one. Each one was compared and matched to Roen's as she explained what each was that they shared. Coatleque removed each of her own pearls in turn as they weeded out the ones they knew were not Nero's. Jameson retrieved what was left. "Visit Deneith. Ask her if she has a personal message for Lazarov, and assure her I will deliver it. Within reason of course. We may not need to send a lock of her hair if we can simply talk to the fool." His words were not commanding as one would expect, for she was no subordinate of his. She nodded once in understanding. "True enough." she replied. "Shall I ask anything more of her?" "No. Let her ask the questions. Perhaps our fair treatment of her will soften her edges. See that she is not wanting comforts. I am not a barbarian." Coatleque smirked at him tauntingly. "Depending on whom you ask." He met her taunt. "If they ask you?" She only shrugged. "Get out." he replied with a laugh.

It comes apart to. It's crocheted by section.

My desk. Complete with cat for cute-factor.

1.Your character gets judged - What stereotype do other students see them as? (Nerd, Jock, etc.) Coatleque is the odd one out. She does not fit any real classification, being neither nerdy nor popular. She's just sort of 'there'. 2.Your character gets an A+! - What class(es)? English and Home Ec. 3.Your character fails a class. Boo! - Which one(s)? Math, Science 4.What sorts of people gather to your character? - Are they popular or a loner? She is the one who flocks, she does not have others flocking to her. 5.Your character goes to future career counseling! - What is their ideal job? Professional stay-at-home mother and trophy wife.

The question carries more implications than one might realize. Simply being able to go into Ishgard is not sufficient cause to uproot one's entire life. If Crofte still has a job after 2.55, she just can't up and leave the Sworn. If she ever goes to Ishgard in-character, it will probably be as the body guard of some Thanalan dignitary or ambassador. On the other hand, if Nanamo does step down and the Sworn are dissolved or merged with another branch, she may leave and re-join the Brass Blades. There is also her whole relationship with a certain Monetarist nobleman that must be considered. If things continue as they are, she's almost set for life, so why would she rock the boat now? I do not foresee my RP changing much, if at all, with 3.0. At the most, I see a lot of new places to just sit and eat dinner.

Coatleque slowly exhaled after having finished reading the article and brushed it off her desk to the waste bin. "The Golden Bazaar isn't even in the city. So much for journalistic integrity."

I will never pre-order another game. Most of them are hyped up to the point that what you get is far from what was promised. You are better waiting for the game to release, then looking at the 'real' reviews from people who bought it and just ignoring all the paid review hype. I'm even to the point of not buying things the day they're released on Steam either, because most of the games are unfinished, mid-alpha/beta quality that require 3 to 4 patches before they even play correctly. Homeworld Remastered, for example, was a huge let-down for fans of the original game. I've not played more than 6 hours of it because most of the game mechanics are still broken.

I role-play with anyone and everyone mostly. There is nobody I am looking for in particular, but I currently have ongoing plots with: (alphabetically) C'kayah Evangeline Gharen Jameson Nero Osric Roen Verad I could not even list here the number of people Coatleque knows, has known, or has heard of.

Coatleque led Berrod back around the perimeter of the room to the bar area. She gestured to Momodi for two glasses of something as they neared, then stopped along side the armored figure she had left sitting there. Turning to Berrod first she pointed to the other. "This is one I had mentioned. It seems he had the most wonderful luncheon this afternoon and could not wait to tell us about it." She then turned back to the man at the bar. "Apologies, Sir, but I rushed off before asking your name. I am Lady Coatleque Crofte of her resplendence's royal guard." With that she offered a slight bow. Mistress Momodi in the mean time had placed two glasses of a dark reddish-purple liquid down for her and Berrod.

Sastasha HM, first boss "Karlabos" If Stun Claws does 0 damage to the target marked "Prey", they will not be stunned. That means stone skin / galvanize to reduce damage. Paladins with stone skin can start casting at the 8 second mark of "Prey" to self-buff before Stun Claws.

Provoke also is not a true taunt, it's just an enmity equalizer. It will place you at the top of the threat list with +1 aggro. If you do not follow it immediately with a bigger enmity-generating hit, you will lose the mob as soon as DPS touches it, or a big heal goes off.

I love the idea as it is put forth. I don't have a character that would join, but I'll definitely keep my ears open for how Crofte could somehow be involved. And it gives me a reason to finally visit the Gold Saucer in-character (off duty, of course. Even Paladins need to schmooze.)