Zhavi

You can socialize BY RPING WITH ME I LOVE LIMSA. *ahem* Hi there! Nice to meet you. I play Zhavi, a young woman whose ego is way too big for her britches. She's fairly constantly in trouble or doing something that is likely to get her in trouble, the least of which is her drinking problem. If you like shenanigans, give me a holler! If you're interested in rping with me, just let me know. BUT OTHERWISE. People are pretty friendly. Just find a thread you have an opinion on and let 'er rip! But, as with most sites and social interaction, you gotta give a little to get a little. Reaching out can be hard, but my own personal experience shows that people are super nice if you're pming them or otherwise asking for rp or the like. So give it a whirl! Won't know unless you try. May you find all the rp you can get your fingers on.

Maaaaan, why do people gotta go and change things when I'm not looking. That's cheating. (my personal pref is still pop out/second window, but I'll use just about anything : x )

Chat is so much more fun than a shoutbox. True story. Just to clarify: when I say shoutbox, I mean a little box at the top of the forums with active, live chat happening inside. You post, and it uses your forum account name. You usually have font and font color options. These are also known as a chatbox, depending on whom you ask. Which results in confusion from time to time. Mm, I know. I don't like them -- couldn't tell you why. Familiarity? That could be it. I like things that are familiar. I like having something that pops out, or is in an entirely separate window, with various features that don't typically come with a shoutbox. (but, probably, I'm just really fond of ajax chat and irc) edit - oh, if we're talking about something that pops out or is in a separate window, then I am, indeed, confused. Ah well, whatever goes.

Chat is so much more fun than a shoutbox. True story.

I have no idea whether or not it would work with what the RPC is moving to, but AJAX chat is something I've used on another site for awhile. You log in to use it and they're pretty active on keeping it updated and squashing bugs. I know one of the guys who works on it -- he's always trying new things out and working on improvements (though he recently got a new job so I dunno if that's eating up more of his time). But yeahhh, it's by far the best forum chat thing I've ever used.

Can't argue with that.

"It'll take less time if ye get yer lass t'bring in some o'her own," Zhi'd make a fairly suggestive gesture. As for the first question. . ."An' why would I do that, when yer jes so much fun?" She leaned over to slap Miza on the shoulder. "I ain't raised ye t'drink juice, lass!" Zhi honestly didn't remember which of them was older. She didn't care. It was an old joke. She told Baderon what she wanted to drink, and leaned back towards Miza, "bet ye twenty-five he's th'first what drops out." Then she was hopping off her stool and heading for Thatcher's table, confidence oozing from her every pore.

She lead him to the restaurant, smirking to herself the whole walk there. The building was small, wedged in between other shops. It had two storeys, the top one being where at least one of the owners lived, possibly the other two; rumors about the siblings made Zhi inclined to believe that they couldn't live with one another without things going violent. She suspected they didn't spend much time together, their more-or-less successful restaurant aside. It was carved into the stone, as so many buildings in Limsa were, mostly clean and cozy in the way small, clean, crowded, and sparsely decorated restaurants so often are. The door was propped open to let the heat out; even standing outside of it Zhi could fair smell it radiating out of the building. "Ye go first," she told him, "they won't like th'sight o'me 'less I'm hangin' off yer coattails." Plus, the other patrons would be less likely to stare at her with the big roegadyn leading the way.

Zhi laughed. The name, she was sure, had been tongue in cheek. "Couldn't tell ye," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Can't read th'sign, an' I ain't never asked. But it's run by three miqo'te." She shrugged. "An' it ain't th'place ye go t' watch lasses wi'out their clothes on." She leered, and snorted. "Ain't no one goes there t'eat, Chocobo."

Let the bodies hit the floor?

It had to be a place she hadn't been in in awhile. Or never. Never would be good -- but this was her she was thinking about. Did there exist a place that served alcohol in the city that she hadn't been to? It'd have to be one that didn't serve alcohol (or served shit swill), and that was nice enough that Joz wouldn't have been able to go. A minute passed. Zhi was sweating. "A'right," she said, voice chipper. "I'll lead." No shit, Zhi. Three Tales was a restaurant thing run by three ex-pirate seeker siblings: two sisters and a brother. It wasn't exactly alcohol free, but they didn't serve much alcohol to begin with. Something about trying to quit drinking, trying to quit the hard life in favor of something better. Zhi'd scorned the place, for obvious reasons, as did most lowlives (barring the gang that ran a protection racket in the area). That left fishermen, laborers, and poor shopkeepers as its primary clientele. Its standards were high for the area, and little thieves like Joz would've been noticed and deterred. Buuut, with a roegadyn at her side with coin to spare, that wouldn't be a problem. And she was fairly sure no one would recognize her. She casually tucked her tail up under her shirt. Precaution. "Three Tales," she said, turning around and leading towards the restaurant. It was only a few minutes away, on the uppermost tier of the Reach. "Ye been there?"

The sound was loud. Its reverberation covered the sound of Zhi dropping to the ground. That was humiliating. It was also ingrained self-preservation. Alas, Zhavi would never be the sort of woman who could stare a man in the eyes and not flinch when he fired right past her head. And, now her ears were ringing. Eyes were fucked, ears were fucked, nose was fucked -- she'd have to reconsider her habits. She grimaced. Again. Standing up again was a second humiliation she tried to play off as she dusted herself off. Oh, if he'd been aiming at her the little dive to the ground would have been done with the bullet (ball?) lodged in her or blown out the back. She looked down at him. Another grin lit up her face, and it reached all the way to her eyes. Sure, maybe it made her look a little deranged, but who could blame her? Nald'thal, ye buggerin' bastard, smile! She found a smoke, took some few steps back to him (her insides churning a little, heartbeat speeding up), handed it over. "Zhavi," she muttered, stalling. "Not that it matters, ye crazy scrag." She considered what she had to say as she pulled out flint and steel, ready to light up the smoke once he took it. "We agreed t'be partners. Nothin's changed 'less ye don't trust me t'do me job. So, ain't about whether'r not I help ye. It's 'bout whether'r not ye'll let me. I ain't th'type what goes back on dealin's less there's a real good reason, an' there ain't been any." The lad, in his death, had released his bowels. It stank. The blood stank. "Ain't nothin' I can say what'll make ye trust me, Jager. Ye have t'make that choice on yer own." Trust, itself, was a funny word. There was no trust between them, just an assurance of mutual cooperation. His decision was based on whether or not he thought she'd found a good enough reason to screw him over. It was a gamble. Dealing with people was always a gamble. But that was what made it so damn fun.

Zhi could um *cough* really use more legit connections. ...for reasons. >> << (HIRE A STREETRUNNER! REAL CHEAP!)

"Ye like playin' deaf, don't ye?" Zhi started backing up -- she had no intention of sticking around any longer than she had to. "Or is it more that ye jes prefer listenin' t' yerself talkin'?"

The laugh, this time, was genuine. She caught her breath. "Yer th'one pissin' fire at me, talkin' 'bout how I'm th'scrag what's diggin' on ye. Whether'r not I'll help ye ain't th'question. How much d'ye trust me, hey?" She tipped her head at him. "Meantime, standin' 'round here bein' pissy wi' me is wastin' time. Do what ye want wi' the body, but I ain't gonna hang out gawpin' 'till some scrag comes wanderin' by."

Which, of course, begged the question: how much money would Lalataru miss? Something to consider. If things went sour. "Take me somewhere I ain't been before," she said, in the meantime. Where would Joz go? Time to stall.

"If ye could turn 'round an' sail out o' here, ye wouldn't put up wi' me in th'first place." She lowered her hands, grinning like a fool. "Ye ain't gotten what ye want, yet. Losses look bad, mate. Real bad." It was, of course, much easier to breathe when a weapon wasn't being pointed at you. Easier to be cocky, too. "I ain't got time t'be messin' wi' yer shit, Jager. I ain't got no use fer yerself besides usin' yer connections, an' last time I checked I'd already got ye in me pocket." A flicker of self-awareness, there. Soon gone.

Zhi stopped. She turned around, putting her hands up behind her head. Her turn to giggle, to sneer at him like he was stupid. But there was an acrid stench in the smell of her sweat. It wasn't as if she wanted to die, was okay with the idea. But laughing was always better than showing fear. Always. "Ye kill me, won't solve yer problem. Yer bein' flat cockered, churl, an' that ain't me fault." She wasn't looking at the barrel. That was hard. She was looking at him, pretending it didn't exist. Pretending she wasn't a half second away from death. "Ye kill me, an' yer off worse." The kid was too young and too desperate for money to have any connections that mattered. He was like Zhi. Someone killed him? There'd be precious few people asking questions. Fewer still who wanted to do anything about it.

Zhi lifted her chin, eyes rising until she was looking him in the face. She propped up a grin. "Been awhile since ye were runnin', ain't it? Cuz yer right shit at it. Don't pretend otherwise." She started back the way she came. "Free advice? This part o'town, an extra body won't stir up much. But movin' it? That'll be somethin' worth seein'. Move off it. Afore th'gawkers show."

Zhi jerked her head back. Automatic gesture. Food. Joz would be hungry. Joz wouldn't turn down food. Zhavi would. Zhavi had things to get done. Zhavi needed to not feck up the take. She thought about it, biting her lower lip, eyes lowered to the ground between their feet. What would Styrm tell Lalataru if she refused? Chances were, best case, the two might think Joz was back to stealing. That couldn't happen. "A'right," she said, scratching her head, looking up with a grin. "Long as Master Lolotaru ain't gonna be angry."

"Funny," Zhi edged away from the spreading pool of blood, "I was thinkin' maybe ye'd somethin' t'tell me." But this time, she wasn't giving him any easy outs. She studied the kid on the ground, upper lip curling in some kind of disgust. Though what exactly that disgust was for. . . She shrugged. Waited.

Zhi took a few steps to the side, hand to head, eyebrows screwed down over the bridge of her nose. There was a line there. He was going to give her wrinkles. Headaches were a bygone conclusion. She didn't move. She stood. She watched. She looked from the man on the ground, to the man standing. "I ain't drunk enough." She said. Very matter of factly. Her hand was reeeeeally close to where her dagger was hidden, though.

Sight won. She still couldn't smell him, what was that about? "Cut down on th'smokes," she muttered to herself, increasing her pace enough to keep him in sight. Would he turn around? Probably not, but if he did she'd have a jaunty little wave ready for him. Except he chose to go down a certain alley. She rolled her eyes. Really. They'd decided to work together because their needs suited: he didn't know the city, she didn't have the right pull. And he thought to lose her? Please. She hopped onto a pile of crates, and started climbing. There was the headache, right on time. She was breathing heavier than usual as she crested the top, the layout of the city with all its bridges and spires spreading out before her. For the second time in a few days, she jumped and landed on someone running. Only this time, she didn't bother trying to stop him from going anywhere. For one, she just wanted to prove a point. Two, her head really fucking hurt. Ow. She came up on her feet in front of him, wincing and holding her head. "I know ye like me ass, mate, but that ain't no call fer actin' creepy."

Hello. Zhi didn't really need to look. She had her ears. They were working better than her nose at the moment (smokes were so wonderful, and yet so deadening). Alrik was pinpointed. Zhi turned around. She saw what direction he was looking in. She moved in that direction, tucking her hands into her most favoritest ratty belt. She opened her mouth, inhaling air with a small chuff of noise. Maybe she had been just a little bit too eager on the whole smoking rolled up or stuffed in versions of taking the edge off, lately. At least she could say she was enjoying herself. No, really. She was. His scent was not immediately apparent, which was something she'd expected. Markets were full of smells, from sweaty body odor to numerous goods. Waste. Other things. And she wasn't exactly in peak form. This was why she typically had Brindle doing the gathering. She grimaced. And hadn't she just gotten fat and lazy? She kept moving, kept scenting. She'd catch a whiff or see him soon enough, and then they'd see who got to play mouse.

"Twenty-five gil fer this?" Zhi handed the gil over while the merchant grinned back at her. When he opened his mouth to offer some patter-or-other about how wonderful his product was, she waved him off and slammed it back. She was sure the headache would arrive at any moment. Once she'd loitered about under the awnings for a bit longer (the shade was glorious, even if humidity denied her comfort), she braved the sun once more. She headed for the docks, taking the ramp from the Alley down to the pier. Chirp was who she needed to see. Damn woman seemed to be incapable of selling off her trash anywhere that didn't include blazing, blinding sun.