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About Leanne

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    Fancy Hat Lady
  • Birthday 01/26/1993

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  1. Vesper Bay, within the Sultana’s Revenge A gentle melody was woven together within the captain's quarters, its sole instrument being the voice of a humming seeker examining oneself in front of a mirror. The old desk which she used was completely bereft of objects, most of them packed together within the large backpack sitting by the door. She would miss that desk, she said to herself on an errant thought. Commanding an entire ship was never her thing, but she would miss being able to boss people around. A long sigh interrupts the flow of Leanne’s voice and mind as she turns around to regard Ribald, who were the entire time by the other side of the room, quietly resting by the wall with his impassive demeanor. Sensing his captain’s eyes falling on his person, the man straightened himself into a more erect posture, which prompted a faint smile out of the girl. “...How do I look?” Leanne asked, showing herself off to the man. Ribald, by then used to the girl’s sunny disposition proceeded to shrug, maintaining his cool, even tone of voice. “Ye look ready t’ be hanged.” he shook his head afterwards, continuing his prose. “Honest opinion, capt’? Ye be makin' a big deal out 'o 'tis. Fer ye charges, what ye be gettin' at best be 15 lashes.” Leanne’s smile grew sheepish at his words, the little embarrassment she felt allowing a hand to crawl under the beret she wore, if only to scratch the fiery mane of hair underneath. “Aye. You are right.” she shook her head afterwards as her arm fell back to her side. “Everything is ready?” The man proceeded to sight before taking calm, if not lazy steps towards the table, dropping a tall, still corked bottle of rum, label seemingly scratched away not only by hand, but by age. Sitting on a chair, Ribald reclined and crossed his arms with a soundly grunt. “Aye. Th' men have their orders. They...” he closes his eyes before grunting again. “They be not quite sure whether or not followin' ye or th' previous cap'n be worth it, but they be doin' as ordered. 'Tis be what ye wanted, right? Loyalty.” Leanne pursing her lips momentarily, slowly nodded. “...You are right.” turning away from the man, she walks in a briskly pace towards the door, lowering herself if only to take her backpack, and slinging it over her back. As her hand rested on the knob, a pause ensued. “I was going to ask for you to keep an eye on the idiot for me, but...you are not staying, are you.” The man’s expression, usually devoid of any particular expression, couldn’t help but allow a brow to float up his forehead. If the small change in features denoted amazement, curiosity, or something else, Leanne could not tell. “Ye be right. After S’imba returns, I’m goin’ to Gloam, see if I can join one 'o th' crews over thar.” Leanne exhaled. “Thought as much. A question. Ribald…? Why did you help and follow me so faithfully?” the old, seasoned highlander remained calm as ever, idly opening a flask before having a deep draw of whichever contents were within. After a short breath, the man shrugged, smoothing out his ever unkempt locks. “You promoted me, didn’t you capt’? Were I supposed to do any different?” The seeker, in a mindless manner, nodded to his words. “Well, aye, but...” The man continued. “I like ye, Leanne. I reckon ye did a good job as capt’, inexperienced as ye be. But be aware, whoever won that “competition”, ye or Melkire, didn’t matter to me, or others in th’ crew. We be not men actin' fer th' sake 'o a cause, or seekin' to do heroics. We be just folk tryin' to scrape by our days, dealin' wit' cards life gives us.” he sighed before waving Leanne off with a hand. “That is why yer floggin’ is a waste of time. Yer satisfying only yerself ‘n yer-” Leanne interjected. “My sense of right. Yes, I’m aware.” Ribald nodded. “Right. No one gives a rat’s arse to it except yerself. But if ye are that keen to uphold whatever ye want to, I won’t stop ye.” he grunted. “All I will do is t' fort ye built fer him as promised, but only 'til th' other cat comes to take it. Ye do what you must, capt’.” The seeker nodded once more before drawing a sigh and looking over her shoulder, irradiating her warm smile. “...Thanks for your service, First Mate. It was a pleasure having you onboard.” Ribald, in answer, raised his flask. “Glad to be 'o service, capt’. May th’ weather be fair t’ ye.” Leanne tipped her beret to the man before finally opening the door. Off she goes.
  2. Beaches of Gloam The sound of her feet sinking into the soft sand coupled with the breaking waves of the sea were a peaceful and serene metronome, thought Leanne in a moment of errant thought, as she walked along the shoreline, eyes vacantly staring towards the horizon. Where in many other places that would be an uplifting, beautiful vista to her, symbolizing the possibilities of the future ahead, the grey and blue clouds forever tormenting the little island made sure it was gloomy, mostly devoid of color, and marred with uncertainties. “Right or wrong.” Leanne asked herself as several arguments in her head threw shots all over, pending to one side, or the other, all of them valid in a way or another. Ribald’s words echoed in her mind. “Do not take as a sign that I disagree wit' ye, Leanne. Just that I reckon thar be no true right in th’ world. If thar was, ye would not be crackin' yer noggin’ right now.” She had no doubt she did the right thing in saving the people from Gloam, for life is a precious gift, and it must be safeguarded. Yet, something still tormented the young seeker. From Virara words, what first were apparent encouragement, came something more profound. “Kill Hael. Save Gloam. Save Grey Cat. Choose what you must do. If it’s Hat Lady, you should be able to achieve it.” “Save Gloam.” she muttered. She did save Gloam. The island itself. But why she did so, she asked herself. Was it really the “right” thing to do, or it were simply but a selfish desire of her own. For the happiness of the island’s inhabitants. For the sake of Slaeglac’s dream. For the sake of their freedom. For the sake of freedom itself. For the sake of my ideals. Why did Gallien help her so much? The man that were her pillar and anchor in the many stressful moments that tormented her days in the island. Many suns planning each move, each reaction for the sake of what they deemed at the time as the “right” thing to do. What was his motivation? Were his reasons different of her own? Was his right different from hers? If so, how? Perhaps his right was better than hers. Perhaps to him, the entire effort was simply out of pure solidarity. While hers was for the purpose of validating her own ideals. For the sake of myself. Maybe her reasons weren’t so noble after all. And at the realization of such, Leanne frowned. If only, because she felt she lied to herself. “Did you?” A familiar voice echoed within. As the voice took the shape of a dragon in her mind’s eye, Leanne could only purse her lips. “I think I did.” her ears lowered in shame. “Hah. What are you trying to do, besides an attempt at being pretentiously self-aware?” the dragon mocked Leanne, pushing the girl into a pause from her stride along the beach. “Excuse me?” the girl growled. Slowly, the dragon shape morphed into a mirror version of the seeker, with the same golden eyes and frown. “You heard me, Leanne. What are you trying to do? What are you trying to convince yourself of? What is the purpose of this meaningless crisis of yours?” Leanne snarled. “You wouldn’t understand.” The mirror image shook its head. “No, I wouldn’t. To me, all that you’re doing is creating reasons to doubt and loathe oneself.” shaking its head, the mirror image approached Leanne, setting its hand on the girl’s shoulder. “I’ve seen what you did. I know your reasons. Yes. Gloam became a glorified symbol of what you believe. Yes, that made you more fierce and more determined to save it. But that’s not why you did what you did.” Leanne’s frown withered as an uncertain expression took over her features. “Then why…?” she asked. With the question, the mirror image began to glow, until it became a silhouette of blinding light, from which the dragon eye that fueled her life pulsated in tandem with her heartbeat.“Skysinger. Your heart bleeds for others, ever did and always will. You didn’t only fight because of an ideal. You fought to keep a smile.” The light that composed the silhouette began to fragment into several motes that were scattered by the wind, presenting a vision to the girl of golden eyes. And with that vision, all of Leanne’s doubts, just like the motes of light, were scattered away. The vision of Guerrique and Ursuline walking together along the shoreline, hands held, each of them now owners of bright, -genuine- smiles. Quick to press herself behind a conveniently placed tree, Leanne hid herself, just so she could quietly watch them pass by with a large, warm smile of her own. “Ah. So that’s why...” For the sake of their smiles. Once they were out of sight, Leanne brought herself out of hiding, smiling stupidly at her success. As she became devoid of awareness, a group of kids of kids ran towards her, ambushing the young bard. All of them tugging at her clothes, laughing and smiling. “Ms. Leanne, Ms. Leanne! Why did you run away! You promised us a story!” One of the children said. The rest of them naturally echoed. “A story, a story!” Giggling, Leanne brought herself down to a knee, fondly petting each of the child in front of her. “I did, didn’t I? Sorry I didn’t deliver it yet. Ms. Leanne was busy being dumb.” the group of kids naturally paused at the answer, looking at her questioningly. “Being dumb…?” the question all of them shared was eventually aired. “Aye, being dumb. Don’t worry, she wised up. A bit, at least.” she chuckles, shaking her head. Lifting herself, Leanne offered her hands to be held, which were quickly taken by the two youngest. “Come on, everybody. Let’s go find Mr. Slaeglac. I think tis’ a story he would like to hear too.” For the sake of their smiles.
  3. Vesper Bay, within the Sultana’s Revenge “You’re fired.” The voice of a girl thundered within a room. Despite the natural softness of it, the authority and resolve behind the words was more than felt, like an echo that installed itself in the back of one’s mind. “What…?” said a hyur, eyes bulging out in surprise. “But for what?!” Leanne was sat behind a desk within the captain’s quarters, flanked by a tall, tanned highlander of brown eyes and long, messy, unkempt hair, whose beard seemed to stop growing after a while, destined to stand as a stubble until the end of days. The seeker demeanor did not show passion nor love, and the man by the right did not say a single word as he eyed the hyur sat by the other side of the desk, as if he were there just as a glorified bodyguard. “You heard me. Pack your things, sir. You’re permanently discharged. No strings attached.” Leanne continued with an impassive voice. Frowning indignantly, the hyur persisted, raising himself from the chair and resting his hands on the desk. “I heard the chit-chatter midst the crew, about what you’re doing right now. Why. And I can tell, it was not me who-” “Then who it was?” she interrupted him immediately, raising her brow. The hyur paused, and gritted his teeth. Looking at the highlander, he roared in anger. “Ribald, are you really letting her do this?!” “Answer th’ lass, James.” It had been a little more than a couple hours since the seeker of golden eyes began what she claimed as the “pruning of the Revenge”. What began as a pursuit of those that sold her about the mutiny by then turned into a social experiment for Leanne, as she digested the reaction of the crew for analysis. She had seen it all by then. Relief, discase, terror, begging, threats, and many others. One of the more fascinating ones to her; anger. “You promised me! We would keep the job! We could keep working in this blasted ship! It is why me and all others chose -you-, and not Melkire!” Leanne didn’t react to the words. She had heard them, several times. At first she was taken aback when the argument was first given. But by then, she were just used to it. Numb. “...What is your choice?” Leanne kept going in a calm, collected persona. “Follow Melkire out of the ship, or tell who sold your captain?” His lips quivered. James sat back on the chair in defeat, body sagging as if his bones liquefied within his body. “..It was…” His next words didn’t matter for Leanne. She already knew. It was too easy for her to discover them. What she wanted was to know if he would sell his comrades. Slaeglac rebelled against Limsa, and even if temporarily, allied himself with the Empire. Many others followed him, herself included. For the sake of freedom. For the sake of happiness. Others could say...for the sake of self-interest. Ulf, through the efforts of her, Gallien and Virara, turned against the Empire, and declared his loyalty to Gloam. Her words may have reached to his selfless side, but even so, he betrayed people who trusted him. Osric sold out Gloam and betrayed others for the sake of his family. Ojene sold out and betrayed Zanzan to acquire the verdict she wanted. And right now, that exact moment, Leanne was forcing people to sell out and betray people they might consider friends so they could keep their jobs. Said people who sold her out too. If she expected an epiphany or catharsis to come out of this, none came. It was all too distressing, too confusing. Several loyalties were broken, so others may be upheld. And in the end, no correct answer was achieved. For there was none. “Such is the nature of men.” the voice in her head said. “Miserable creatures of contradiction and lies, ever seeking meaning and justification in what they do.” “Capt’?” Ribald set a hand on Leanne, shaking her lightly. “A-Ah.” the seeker blinked before regaining her surroundings. Raising her gaze to Ribald, she offered a weak smile. “...Was him the last one?” “Aye.” “...How many of the crew is left?” Pursing his lips, the man scratched his rebellious mane. “Not that many. Between th' ones ye fired 'n th' ones that left on their own, we have enough to run th' ship, but just barely.” “I see. I guess, that’s good enough. We can replenish those numbers as time goes by.” grunting, she lifted herself. “First Mate Ribald. Tell the remaining crew to prepare for voyage. We’re returning to Gloam.” “Aye aye capt’.” he turned away from the girl before striding towards the door... “...Ribald.” ...Only to stop. He looks over his shoulder to his young captain, tilting his head in inquisition. “Yes, Leanne?” “...Did I do the right thing?” “May ye be more specific?” Leanne pursed her lips. “The mutiny. The “pruning”. The…” she paused. “You know. Everything.” Ribald turned his eyes away from the seeker, only to look back at her. That sight was strangely comforting for her then. No warm smile denoting affection. No frown hinting at hatred. Just a critical and thoughtful expression, entirely devoid of bias. “I do not think that be a question I can answer, cap'n. Me right may be different from yer right.” Leanne pursed her lips before exhaling in resignation. “...Aye. I guess so.” Ribald pauses momentarily to gauge her reaction, before continuing. “Do not take as a sign that I disagree wit' ye, Leanne. Just that I reckon thar be no true right in th’ world. If thar was, ye would not be crackin' yer noggin’ right now.” Leanne nodded once more before straightening herself. “...I guess you are right. Thanks, Ribald. You’re dismissed.” “Aye, capt’.” Leanne looked down to the desk. “There’s no true right in the world, huh…”
  4. Okay, I'd like to go, if it is not an issue.
  5. I dooon't think I have much choice here except see whoever is calling Leanne!
  6. Gulp, gulp, gulp. Within the Drowning Wench, on the top of an old, battered wood surface, an half-empty mug of rum were to be found. "Is this the price we had to pay to save a man's life?" The redhaired seeker groaned deeply, her hand clutching onto the handle of the mug with a death grip. She never tried to disguise the anger she was left with by the revelations and events that happened in the two grueling long days of trial now past her. Everyone, against all odds imposed, saved Dominic Morris. They managed to bring him into the gentle hands of mercy, away from the claws of damnation. Yet, the success that should've left her in such elated state had such a bitter taste to it she could hardly think of anything else. It simply didn't sit right with her. The actual farce that was the trial. Almost sentencing a man to death, in an attempt to pacify a crowd of bloodthirsty folks and blind their eyes to the true threat looming by. A trial led by a sadistic man with no empathy for anyone except himself and others of his ilk. The sacrifice made by Osric in a bid to humble the panel of judges. "My fault...my stupid fault." she shook her head. "Make an example for your brother, I said. Walk the right path. Be a good man." she grunted. "And that was his reward." She growls in anger, finally releasing the mug to recline into the wood chair she had herself on top of. Crossing her arms, her irritated expression only mellowed into sorrow. "I didn't want to. He had to pay his debts. But in another way. Not like this." she draws a breath, her relucent golden eyes boring into the table in front of her. Osric's last words echoed in her mind, and refused to leave her. "Tell Thom I'm paying my dues." She pursed her lips. Raising herself, she left the bar at a briskly pace, only left a salvo of coins on the table, alongside the unfinished drink.
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