Coatleque

And she's a redhead to. /insidejoke

Brute force. Combat is not a dance for Crofte. She tries to get in and out, neutralizing her target efficiently so she can move on. Though she occasionally will greatly overestimate herself.

Here you go.

*frantic scribbling of a quill* My heart... it bleeds... only for... only for... *giggle* *slowly hums a nursery rhyme* Soooon... yesss-s-s-s...

Fertilizer spill closes road to Buscarron's for a day. Porter denies being intoxicated at the reigns. Forced to shovel same shite twice.

More ca-doodling.

Even as a Sultansworn, Crofte had not killed anyone until a few months ago. She had always maintained a 'bring them in alive' approach, choosing to debilitate rather than play justicar. She was forced to kill an attacker while performing a favor for the man she loved. When it was clear he would not relent in trying to take or kill her ward, she killed him with his own sword. For the next few days all she could smell was blood. Seems she's hung up her sword now. Or at least that's what she's telling everyone...

Because they won't let me have scissors anymore

Dinosaurs and pie. And Nickelodeon.

Thank you to Martiallais and Draco for showing a gal a good time last night. And not pummeling an old man.

*rotates camera to see who he was staring at*

"Where there is sin..." Wooden steaks driven into the ice and leaned against each other for support. The body of an aevis suspended beneath them to appear as if it were lunging forward. Its wings outstretched and piked. She stared at the fruit of her labors splayed before her, torch in hand. Cold gaze met dead eyes. Her lips twitched at the corner. "... we bring atonement." Slowly the torch was guided along the length of the wood. Kindling shriveled and charred while flames caught, danced then lept over the timbers to consume the effigy. Scales may blunt the sharpest steel, but no flesh is safe from cleansing fire. She sniffed, inhaled the scent of the redeemed, then turned slowly to face the valley below. No vapor accompanied her breath as she sneered. "These people... they are rife with it. Come, Besten. It is time." A grunt of approval followed before the two began their decent from the cliff side.

Breakfast was indeed already in the works as Coatlque dragged her feet through the door. The smell of some kind of spiced meat had begun to fill the bottom floor of the inn. She would have been tempted to stop there first if she wasn't so tired. Ninne spied her over a recipe card as she stired something around a bowl. "Tilda? Is that you? You look awful!" "Ninne!" she replied with half a smile. "Would that I could sit and chat tonight... I need a bunk is all. Someplace to rest before light comes." "Well, you best scurry if you're hoping to beat the light! Ten gil for the night then." Coatleque promptly counted out the appropriate coin which was swept up into Ninne's apron before making her way upstairs. The public room would do for a one night stay with no amenities. Passing a tall, dark man by the door, she collapsed onto the first available bed after nearly tripping over the footboard. She gripped the blanket in one hand and all but drifted off before being wretched back to consciousness by a gruff voice by the hearth. "Juline! When is the chirurgeon returning? You said he would be here by morning." She groaned and pulled the pillow over her head in an attempt to ignore the man. "I don't care how many knights are waiting. You owe me a favor! Or are we not 'friends' any longer?! Fucking GET him, Juline!" The pillow was flung back to the headboard and she rolled over to prop herself up on one arm. "Do you MIND?!" she muttered weak yet harshly. "Piss off." The man hissed as he re-entered the room and crossed to his own rented bed. He hoisted a bag from the floor as he sat, and then began to roll the sleeve of one arm up to reveal a heavy blood-stained bandage beneath. "Is that how you always address strangers?" "It's how I address cunts who can't mind their own business." he growled. She frowned angrily. "You chose the public bunk just as I did. If your business was so private, you should have taken the room." Coatleque rolled over now and sat up on the edge of the bed. Since there was no sleeping just yet, she figured it would be more comfortable to remove some of her armor at least. She regarded the strange man as she began to untie her gauntlets one at a time. An Elezen, tall and lithe with a brooding countenance. Storm-blue hair matted down above his pale eyes. His beared trimmed quite immaculately into a pointed shape. He had since began to unwrap the bandage. "I said piss off." He growled again. Removing the bandage revealed a poorly stitched wound on his forarm, probably something he did himself and in haste. Her eyes could not help but to examine it from afar. "That looks bad." "Yes, it is bad. Don't ever get wounded in this fucking place unless you're a knight." As her second gauntlet came free, Coatleque flexed her right hand absently. "If it is any consolation, I know how you feel." "A consolation would be the chirurgeon showing up!" She turned away from him, sliding herself back up onto the bed to sit leaning against the headboard. The man had began to re-wrap the wound with fresh linen in the mean time. "What happened to you anyway?" She finally inquired. "Dzemael cunts is what happened." He growled. "I'm done with Ishgard. Too bloody cold, and I don't get paid enough for this shite." "Dzemael? Soldiers?" Her head tilted as she feigned interest. "Not soldiers." His eyes rolled then narrowed and focused on her. "What's it to you, anyway?" "I thought we were just two travellers swapping tales before bed. If you prefer to sit in pain alone till morning, no skin off my back." Her shoulders shrugged back against the headboard. Coatleque leaned forward again to stand. "You are leaving the north then?" "Yes, and you will to if you have any brains." He grunted and pulled the bandage tight to fasten it, all the while muttering curses to Dzemael. Coatleque managed a few steps to the door and scanned the room warily. Her nose wrinkled. "How long have you been waiting to have that tended?" "Two fucking days." "I can tell." The man furrowed his brows at his own arm. "You think it looked bad?" The sternness of his voice fled away momentarily and she almost took pity on him. "Looked alright for a field dressing, but smells wrong. Dzemael did that?" He stood and nodded, looking a tad paler than before. "Followed me from Falcon's Nest. Had to be them. I'm sure of it. Armor had that little cart thing on it. They'll be sorry." His voice trailed off to another series of mutterings as he began stuffing his sundries back into his bag. Throwing his own cloak about his shoulders he finally turned to leave. "JULINE! Where the fuck IS he?!" As he passed the paladin leaning on the door jam, she yawned and gestered absently. "Ashame. S'not your dice arm is it?" Thaelys Swiftblade stopped and turned, smiling suddenly. His voice lowered, calmed from before. His pale eyes narrowed upon her. "Why no, friend, how did you know I was fond of dice?" "Travellers hear many tales abroad, 'friend'." She returned his stare from under her bangs and crossed her arms trying to appear rather unimpressed though he could not hear her heart racing. "Oh, what now? Going to gut some poor traveller in the middle of an in over a perceived slight?" He laughed coldly and moved a step closer. "Of course not. Don't be silly, 'friend'. But you have piqued my curiosity now. Just what tale did you hear?" "Nothing impressive," she scoffed. "A tall, striking elezen with dagger shaped beared and horrendous luck was fleeced pretty badly by the guards." "I see. And you," he gestured to the room "came to see if the man was as striking as the stories say?" "Me? Oh no, I simply have better luck it seems." "Oh? And why is that?" It was then she uncrossed her arms, pulling Tamsin's good luck charm from a pocket it and dangling it by the ribbon before him. "Because it was given to me." That stopped him in his tracks. He gave her one look as if she was daft, then laughed. He laughed and laughed and managed to choke out "May it continue for you then, friend.", then continued laughing down the stairs and out to the stable. Coatleque almost laughed after him, but it turned to a yawn mid-chuckle. She pocketed the charm again and returned to bed.

"Ambush!" That was the first thought to flash through her mind. Her hand moved instinctively to her sword's hilt while taking one uneasy step backwards towards her mount. Eyes darted in all directions, ears straining for the sound of movement in the dark. Nobody came. There was no cry of anger, no rushing of bodies from behind nearby trees. The snow fell just as quietly as always through the nights here. Her body relaxed and she stepped forward again to examine what it was she found exactly. There was not as much blood as she initially expected. Very little, in fact, but what was visible had clearly trailed off to the east. While the drift the cloak was caught in had been large enough to easily conceal a body, she was relieved to find none. She turned the cloak over in her hands then, examining it from end to end. The bottom corner had been torn away but it was otherwise unmarred. She began to fold it to stow for later when something fell out of the folds into the snow. A charm of a familiar make but tied with a blue ribbon instead of yellow. Holding it up and shaking the snow off of it she muttered quietly to herself. "Tamsin." The charm was pocketed and the cloak stowed with her things. Coatleque then went to work kicking over more snow and covering the trail as best she could so no others would follow. By her estimation whoever fled away headed east and with long strides and heavy boots. Much too large for Tamsin. Wounded as well. Content for now, she climbed back atop her bird and continued east along the road. Exhausted, bleary-eyed, and having nodded off more than once along the way, she would not even remember what time it was when they arrived at the fortress. The false glow of morning could already be seen on the horizon - or at least it would have been save for the mountains blocking the view. The promise of a bed just yalms away gave her enough renewed energy that she dropped to her feet and led the mount to the stable. The hand on night watch seemed equally annoyed and surprised to have a customer at this time of night. "Cold one, ain't it? Heh, course," he muttered amusedly, "it's always a cold one. You'll be want'n a room, I take it?" The paladin pulled her hood back then to let her hair fall forward with a slight shake. "It's me, Tilda.", she rasped. One of the many aliases she had taken throughout her tenure. For the past two moons she had been leading a small group of paladins undercover at the Observatory to the south. An unofficial outreach to protect the Sultanate's interests within the current diplomatic upheaval. There was a whole new market to be had in Ishgard once the war was concluded, and Ul'dah would be sure to stake the largest claim. "Is there any work tae be had fer a discount?" "Sure, there's always work. Can't guarantee it's nice work, though." She staggered as her head shook. "Ye know we're good for it. My brother should be fishing tae the south. I can send him up for payment." Of course by 'brother' she really meant one of her shield brethren back at their post. They had all done their fair share of wood splitting, pelt collecting, and fishing to get by. Not that they needed funding to survive - it simply would be too suspicious for a group of foreigners to be flashing endless coin around. "Hmm, what kind o' payment? There's that bounty on snow wolves. Unless yer look'n fer something bigger..." His voice slowed and ended with a sly smirk. She waved him off while pulling a hunting knife from her belt to hand over as collateral. "Caen we worry the details," she yawned, "in the marning?" "Heh, sure Tilda. Might be Ninne's got breakfast on already. Eat someth'n, will ya?" "Mmm" she mumbled something incoherent as she made for the inn.

Returning to the city so soon and empty handed was not something she had planned. As such, she gave the Fortemps apartment a wide berth and made straight to the nearest tavern to ask about Swiftblade. Dark, filthy, and no place for a paladin of her statue. She hated more and more the need to come to these places the longer she spent in Jameson's household. Thaelys Swiftblade was a known quantity, but nobody had seen him for over a week now. It was soon clear that he they never stopped here, most likely passing through quickly on their way back south. Only the chocobo porter had seen anything, but the stable keeps would not talk to her without a bribe of sufficient warmth to last many cold nights. The paladin's nose scrunched. "Gloves?" she asked flatly. "You want ... gloves?" "Aye, the blue ones. Lambskin! They go with my eyes!" He batted his eyes at her mockingly till her head rolled away with disgust. "Fine! I will get you gloves." Though she had no idea how. Her own purse had long been empty now and she still had to stable her own bird and find somewhere to lay for the night. As the sun began to dip her desperation finally overcame her fear as she approached the apartment by the Crozier. Her hand slowly raised and was just about to reach the knocker when the door was violently thrown open. Out rushed the House Servant who nearly ran her over had she not jumped to the side in time. "Mister Petrias?!" "Ser Crofte?!" Their mutual alarm and relief was voiced in unison. They regarded one another with mixtures of confusion and disgust at the disheveled appearance of the other. While still well dressed, it was clear the past few nights bore no sleep for Perci by the circles under his eyes. Her hair hung in thick strands aside other marks of limited bathing opportunities. "Are you quite alright?" she asked. "No!" he nearly howled straight into her face. "What is going on!?" "Besides Lord Algincourt missing?" Jameson's new ward was bad enough, but now it seemed his betrothed and her handmaiden had also gone missing. Lady Eglantine did not return to the apartment from La Noscea, which means she went straight to Falcon's Nest. It was nearly three days past when Coatleque had seen her. Tamsin, however, had been sent the opposite way to investigate rumors of Swiftblade's passing. Lord Taeros had not yet returned, so poor Mister Petrias was the only one left with no word from anyone! She could feel the bile rising in her throat as he continued to vent, arms waving frantically. She rubbed her forehead forcefully enough to leave a red mark before sighing. "The porters may know where Swiftblade was heading, but they will not tell me anything without a bribe. A significant one." Perci fretted about at that thought then raised a finger to the air. "I'll borrow from the discretionary funds! Surly the drape cleaning can, ah... wait." "I swear I will make it up to you somehow," she reassured him. "If the missing sum is noticed, lay the blame on me. I am sure Lord Taeros will understand when young Dheres is safe again. And if Tamsin returns... have her find that Mister Kitty or whatever his name was. He is supposed to be Lady Eglantine's bodyguard is he not?" There was an additional promise to only spend what she needed before He nodded in agreement and a sizeable purse was exchanged. The next hour was spent wandering the Jeweled Crozier purusing three different clothiers until she found the items she needed. By then it was just past dusk and most of the 'discretionary fund' was gone. She trudged back to the stables. "Hmm, these might do." The porter seemed rather unconcerned now. "Are you sure these are the right shade to flatter my eyes?" "Yes, yes. Quite flattering. I might have even considered having a drink with you now." Her sarcasm evident to all present. As luck would have it they did see her quarry. He needed a cart and a bird as he was taking someone south. Someone not fit to ride seeing how he was too drunk to stand. Retrieving her own mount now, since they would not exchange it with one more rested, she quickly checked her remaining supplies and headed once more into the snows of Coerthas. This time she was headed for Dragonhead, and the road south. Night had fallen now. Another two days without sleep. Not even ten minutes from the city and she felt herself nodding off atop her mount. As her head rolled to one side she caught sight of something dark through her fading vision, enough to cause her to jerk suddenly and pull the reigns. She dismounted and waded a few steps away through a foot of unpacked snow to find a torn cloak half-burried. A cloak, and blood.

Dump time once again.

Right now I draw for fun. Maybe someday I could make money off it, but I'm far from that. I would never make it my 'job' though. I've been there and done that. I used to love computers. Then I made IT my job. Now I hate computers. People will take that hobby you used to enjoy and **** all over it till you loathe looking at it every day. Never turn your hobby into your job unless you are also the boss.

Alderique

Thank you. I also like detailed eyes. Some of said detail is unfortunately lost when I shrink these down to be more forum friendly. In that series of 3 eyes, they are actually silver-dollar sized.

Two more cause I'm bored today.

To da dump, to da dump, to da dump-dump-dump Asuna Some nerd. Eye see you Everybody be looking for this guy.