Zhavi

Hey there, welcome! I'd say I probably do as much forum rping as I do in game - so if your character is likely to hang around Limsa Lominsa (my character rarely leaves the city, and never goes far from the city when she does) and you don't mind intersecting your character's story with gutterscum, I'd be more than happy to do some forum rping with you. You can read more about my character here. In the meantime, do you have any info on your character?

Zhi giggled, the sound muffled behind her hand. It wasn't quite what anyone could call melodic, but the sound warbled up and down. Musical, if not precisely pleasant. "Th'nice parts, th'parts wi'legal merchants an' their goods, that's all ruled by th'Admiral. So th'darker bits, th'ones where people get gil off th'good little merchants? Ye don't see it. That happens wi' smiles an' nice smellin', fancy rooms." She skipped down the last few steps, hopping off and landing on her toes. She pivoted to look at Flit, her face flushed. There was a lightness to her that hadn't been there in his room; a sense of amusement hovered about the trembling of her lips, as if she stopped herself from laughing by force. "Things ain't lookin' ugly there. It's all gilded an' shinin'. Ye have dig real deep an' look real hard t'spot th'rot, an' if yer not careful ye'll be floatin' off th'docks. But most o'th'city? It's ugly t'look at. Ye don't have t'look t'see it rottin', an' there ain't much t'try t'hide it. But ye have t'know where t'go t'see that part o'the city." They were out of the stairwell. The sun had crested the horizon and broken free from it, light hitting the water and scattering a vicious glare that was nigh unavoidable. "It's broken up 'twixt gangs and famliies o'this an' that. They control th'money. They put their fingers in it, an' they make th'rules in some parts o'the city. But there's rules, see? They treat wi' pirates an' smugglers, an' there's things that go too far." She strode the docks like she owned them, her brassy strut ruined only by the horrific, giant wince her face had turned into. Zhi had never quite learned how to get along with brightness. "Things always change, Flit. Remember that." She glanced at him, shading her face so she could give him a solid stare. "There's folk what make their livin' peddlin' 'twixt th'groups an' straddlin' th'dos and don'ts. They talk t'people, know people, an' keep a step ahead. Dangerous livin', but good gil." She stopped suddenly, turned to face him. She shaded her face again, and as she looked at him she wondered if he understood the significance of this little talk, of what it meant. For her. For him. Her grin was cheerful. "How good are ye at fawnin'?"

Zhi knew he'd been to Limsa before. He had to in order to be threatened -- but there were certain things she wanted to know. She wasn't scrutinizing his face, but his body-language, and the minute sounds in his voice. Miqo'te ears were good for that. "Mm, then ye stayed in th'nice parts o'town?" She directed them as they walked, cutting away from the plaza and the upper decks both. She chose instead a rarely-used set of old, worn stone stairs. Their voices echoed as they descended.

"Aye, I'll find ye a new eyepatch. Or ye can buy one; it's yer own choice. Ye'll need new gear. Anythin' that's eye-catchin', we'll be changin' it. Fancy?" She didn't wait for a reply. She started walking. Zhi didn't expect trouble crossing into the city, and they didn't get any. Flit was given the ugly eye, what with his cloak and all, but single travelers were always greeted with less suspicion than those with the baggage of caravans or the stowaway possibilities inherent in local merchant-carts and wagons. Besides, most guards put on the gate at dawn weren't nocturnal, and most of them weren't up your ass with the best interests of their job at heart. They were tired, they were bored, they were cranky. As long as you were meek and didn't cause them trouble, they could not care less about you. Hear that, Azeyma? No one likes yer ass. Not really true, but it made her feel better. Sort of. She kept an eye on him as they walked, studying his gait and his carriage. "Ye been t'Limsa afore?" The city glowed in the morning light. It was at its best at night, of course, but morning lent it something dreamy and ephemeral. It was hard not to just stand there and drink it in.

Zhi frowned. Her hands were pressed tight to her lap under the table where Lalataru couldn't see them shaking. Some of that strain was present in her shoulders; she looked tense. "Someone wrote it -- don't that mean there's someone t'read it? Why d'ye keep a book ye can't read -- I mean. . .I've seen ye carryin' this afore, haven't I? What's it about? Why's it so important?" Her nails pressed into her palms. It hurt. It felt clean.

The journey to Limsa Lominsa was horrible, mostly because it seemed like every time Zhi looked up she caught an eyeful of sunrise. Nald'thal might as well have been using his scales to reflect the sunlight in her eyes for all the good he was blimming doing her. Her eyes felt gritty, as with her mouth and ears. Her whole head felt gritty, and maybe that was why she dug about her person and pulled out a poorly rolled blunt. Flint and steel took care of getting it lit, and a quarter-bell was spent inhaling and exhaling off it like she needed it for the purpose of existing. Some days it sure as shit felt that way. When her eyes came back to rest on Rurutani, the spires of Limsa Lominsa were visible in the distance. Another half-bell passed with her keeping him in sight, either in her peripheral or by studying him directly. She was unresponsive in that time, jiggling her leg where it was propped against the cart. Her eyes were bright, too bright, and her ears and tail were in constant motion. She was rubbing the edge of her tunic between her fingers. Finally, when they neared the gate she hopped off the cart -- waving Rurutani to join her on the ground -- and tossed the stump of the blunt to the ground. She rubbed it out. "Yer Vivikuso Lilikuso. I'm callin' ye Flit. Mid-twenties. Sword-fer-hire. No family, lost in the Calamity. Blah, blah blah. Ye been out o'work fer awhile. Last time ye were on a job ye were double-crossed, an' ye didn't get paid. Ye've heard th'gangs in Limsa don't stiff their swords. So now yer here. An' now I'm showin' ye gangs what are worth trustin'. Here." She tossed him a bandanna. It smelled like her. "Cover yer hair. We're gonna get it colored." She studied him, hands planted on her hips, an air of nervous energy hovering about her body. The end of her tail was twitching endlessly, her ears turning every which way at the slightest audio provocation. "Ye unnerstand? While yer here ye ain't gonna be Rurutani no more. Not 'till yer ready t'cross wi' Jaded."

They had met. They had talked. That was the reason Zhi walked the docks, seeking out Doendragasyn's ship. She didn't trust him. She didn't trust his so-called informer, the broker who went by the name of Jack. She didn't like the way he'd phrased things, had liked less the way he'd spoken to her. Not that she wasn't used to it. The ship was further out, too big to belong in the nearest section with all the fishing boats and smaller pinnaces. Zhi didn't mind the walk, considering she had to work off leftover exhaustion from the day prior and the little sleep she'd managed to steal for herself. She'd been smoking again. She loved it. She hated it. There were a million flies buzzing around the confines of her skull. She tried not to let it show. Preparation for the day included leather and thirteen inches of steel. A rondel dagger, purchased with money she'd gotten from the clodhopper, with a fur-lined sheath and a leather-and-wire wrapped hilt. It was sharp, and obvious. Zhi wasn't a fighter. But oh, she could ooze blade-for-hire out of her pores. Her hair had been slicked back, was held out of her face with a cheap leather strap. A few clumps had been braided and beaded, and they hung behind her ears. She'd banded her tail with copper and bronze jewelry, hiding the kink in it. She smelled of leather and oil with a niggling underpinning of ocean and something unsavory. She held herself upright, moved with the studied grace of a fighter. She looked the part of everything Kink wasn't. Zhi had always been good at playing parts. She stopped when she reached the edge of the ship's gangplank, and looked over it until she saw the watchman. "I'm here t'see Cap'n Doendragasyn. Tell 'im his appointment's here." Her grin showed way more teeth than was necessary.

Zhi perched awkwardly on the side of the cart, avoiding the merchant's goods where she was able. The last thing she needed was some accusation that she'd broken someone's shit. Rurutani wasn't hers. He was Thatcher's. She couldn't just take him and do what she wanted with him, direct him and utilize his skills. Rather, she shouldn't. She smiled. "Yer gonna need a new name," she told him as the wagon lurched into motion. "An' then we're gonna go fer a walk."

Nine-tween, I love it. My character is also in that precious stage of development where the line between adult and child has been horrendously blurred. I bet our characters could snark at each other! But, then again, that's all wo/man child teenagers do anyways. Here's to glorious rp! (don't be afraid to send tells or whispers to players of characters you want to rp with. Everyone I've met has been super friendly)

Zhi trembled as she sat. She fisted her hands and stuck them in her lap, leaning forward to get a better look at the book. "Why don't ye find some bloke what can read it, then?" Her expression had some interest in it, but there was also confusion in the way her eyes slid over both books and her eyebrows pulled together.

Zhi pulled a face at that, one that counted as just a bit gobsmacked, but she quickly tried to cover that with neutrality. "Err. . .ye can't read it? Why not? I thought ye could read. . .?"

"Why not?" Zhi tilted her head to the side, eyes wide with curiosity.

There is only one other subforum ("Chronicles") -- which is partially why I think a subforum off of the RP forum would work well. I agree that more forums/subforums tend to promote clutter, but in this case I think it will prove useful in its utility. People might be more inclined to create more character-oriented threads with a specific subforum, and it will make browsing easier. Searching with tags does work, but people tend to not tag things or put in tags that don't belong, and in the end, in my own experience, it is not as casual-browsing friendly as just having a specific forum for those sorts of threads (plus, search functions are always hit and miss in my experience). There are enough threads and people interested in a place to look at those threads to warrant it in this case, in my opinion.

"Ye. . .gonna teach me t'read? Wi'that?"

If you want to be everything to everybody, then you have to accept that means conflict is inevitable. IMO it's much easier to build a guild with a specific focus. That doesn't mean you have to have a hardcore no BS policy, it just means that when someone crosses the line you have to be firm and stick to your guns. Keep an eye out for problem members and either talk to them early on or get rid of them -- the longer you let them fester, the worse the inevitable breaking point will be (and in the meantime, your good members will feel the strain, too). Also, when you have people walking the line, get rid of them. The result tends to be that everyone in your guild is happier, you're happy, etc. People who walk the line usually do so deliberately, and nothing you say will get through. Ask people who show initiative to be your officers. Never promote anyone who asks for a leadership position. If they want it, they'll show you by putting the effort in. Don't be afraid to rely on these people. Sometimes it's easy to be perfectionist, and then you find yourself doing all the work and wondering why no one is helping -- don't forget to share the workload. Sometimes people need tasks given to them, as they don't know what to do themselves. In my experience, you're going to put in way more effort then your members. The first time I was an officer in a serious raiding guild, I commented that I didn't realize how much it was like a second job -- much to the amusement of the guild leader and other officer. It is a lot of work. Be sure to give yourself some self-time at least once a week. Once you start dreading logging in, it's time to take a break. But above all else, build the sort of community and guild that you want to be in. (also, as Bryn said, don't compromise your standards. I'm on what some consider to be a very high-standards rp forum. We get maybe 1-2 new members per year, out of scores who apply. Most just get bored of the app process, or if they make it through, don't have enough initiative to cut it. But for those one or two new members who stick, they stick for years (forum itself is turning ten next year). Drama? We don't have drama. Would I rather have hundreds of members over the twenty-something who stick? Nope. I wouldn't have it any other way. Is it for everyone? Nope. That's okay -- there are other places I wouldn't join that are someone's cup of tea, and that's awesome. In my mind, not everything is for everyone, and that's great -- because it means I can find places that cater to my own specific set of interests pretty easily )

The words hit her cold. She ignored them, a different thank you echoing in her head as she shut the door and took the lead. She had to be quick. She really didn't have more than a bell, but she knew it was going to take longer than that all the same. Pre-dawn there weren't very many options -- and that was why she'd hitched a ride out to meet him once Chirp had located him for her. That merchant was still offloading, but there was another or two preparing to make the daily trip in to Limsa's markets. Zhi paid out a tip to allow them to cling to the back of the cart, and then gestured for him to get on. "C'mon, we're goin' t'the city."

Window latched, Zhi went to the door. Quick enough to unlock it, then she was out and holding it for Rurutani. She didn't offer to help him carry. "Ye paid up?"

"Mm, fair. Ready?" She turned to latch the windows, and hesitated. "If ye want t'carry yer sword naked yer gonna get th'kind o'eyes ye don't want on ye."

Nald'thal tip her scales and pinch her tail, the lalafell actually listened. Zhi had geared herself up for an argument, had been ready to tell him exactly what she thought of bravos who mistook idiocy for bravery or some other fool notion of honor. She was surprised. Surprised enough to find a lamp and get it lit so he wouldn't need to pack in the dark. Zhi had found him first, and she was fair certain that the enforcers of Jaded wouldn't be prepared to deal with someone who ignored their warnings so quickly, so as far as she was concerned there was no need for secrecy. She liked making people uncomfortable, but when it turned from her own pleasure to work she chose practicality over amusement. "What should I call ye by?" Not that she'd call him by whatever name he came up with, but such things were good to know. She didn't offer to help.

I think it could make a really nice resource sub-forum type that would allow people to browse without having to filter through tons of non-related other threads. Go for it, says I!

She frowned. Not as helpful as she'd hoped, but this one wasn't used to the underbelly, not from what she could see. Perhaps he would pick out the faint gleam of her teeth as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room. She was grinning at him, the expression carrying its own share of recklessness. "Fair. I'm movin' ye. Pack yer things."

Zhi grunted. Oh, there were words to be shared, all right. Her tongue fair itched with them, but she swallowed them for the moment. "What'd Tabart's lackeys tell ye?"

"I ain't th'only one in the city what can slip into a room quiet-like, flitter-mouse." The criticism was implicit, and Zhi intended for it to become explicit -- but her own needs came first. "I heard ye met wi'Thatcher. Ye on her rolls now?" Her tail was lashing back and forth behind her.

There was some hesitation when he didn't put the sword away, but soon enough a rueful grin followed: he'd be a fool to put it away, and it'd be a problem if he was one. So she closed the shutters without latching them, plunging the room back into its twilight. It didn't bother her, of course. He was the one at a disadvantage. She made no move to close the distance between them, though she did take a couple steps inside. "Ye can call me Kink," she said, wondering how fast he could move. "Ye lookin' t'be found by Tabart's boys?"

Zhi leaned back, eyes moving to the sword and then to the arm that held it. Wariness stiffened and loosened the muscles in her own body. "Easy," she muttered. The sword almost glowed in the darkness, catching moonlight from the window and reflecting it. It looked sharp to Zhi -- but then again, most blades did to her. She'd sure been cut by enough of them to treat all edged weapons with the respect they deserved, especially when someone other than her was holding one. Someone who was said to be competent with his blade. "Look, I ain't got moren' a bell, an' in th'whole o'things yer not that important, so I squeezed ye in. Can't help it I'm boxed in by daytrippers," the last was muttered. "I'm workin' fer Thatcher -- Lady Grace, whatever ye reckon her as. Heard ye were threatened by one o' Tabart's boys. I need t'hear th'details." Her eyes were drawn to the blade. "Wi'out th'naked steel, thank ye kindly." Her voice was dry enough to catch fire.