Zhavi

I've never rped with anyone who took a character to the point that they were oozing the 'I'm going to go crazy and kill you soon' feeling but I think if they did do that they'd have to do any sort of group things oocly, or with a group of equally crazy underlings.

Daytime was never a favorite of the Keepers, and so it was for Vijako. Though perhaps she'd gone to sleep earlier than normal the past night -- and in a rather unusual and uncomfortable location -- she was too battered to wake easily. Indeed, the street brats who had gone through her pockets at the cusp of dawn had found her unusually easy prey, even for someone who'd been kicked a few too many times. She murmured something incomprehensible as the guard carefully prodded her. It was in everyone's best interests that she get up after all; it was hardly good for the city's economy if the well-to-do started seeing bodies in the alleys everywhere. It wasn't exactly an image that pleased the bureaucrats, and it fairly horrified the merchants. "Wazzat suns 'en. . .'urts. . .go 'way. . ." But the guard was persistent despite her reluctance to be conscious, and with a good nature that may or may not have been manufactured he reassured the miqo'te in the alley's mouth. It was about then that Vijako peeled her eyelids up enough to see her presumed rescuer, and her face immediately tightened in unhappiness. She forced herself up, scowling and wincing, and stared at the ground as she spoke to the guard. "'Mfine. I'll move. Leave off." She tried to wipe the stickiness of her hands off on her breeches and found that the action lit fire all over her palms. She made an involuntary sound, ears flattened, but managed to swallow a growl. She started to stagger to her feet, but was too dizzy to make it far before she teetered sideways and ran into the alley wall with her shoulder, smearing herself with the moldy growth that clung to it. Gods above, she reeked.

Don't forget, also, that sometimes people will do terrible things because they feel there is no other option out there. Meh, I'm rather loathe to use the term 'villain.' It makes me think of the two in Rocky & Bullwinkle, totally silly and exaggerated. I like there to be reasons behind everything. I mean, hell, you could make a great antagonist by making him a total xenophobe, or a control freak, or an idealist or visionary. In these cases it's not so much about good or bad as how willing he is to step on other people to get what he wants. If he considers himself the gods' greatest gift, then it shouldn't matter if a few people have to die. Even if they're friends or people he respects. And people don't even have to die directly by his hand. Some pretty nasty social injustices just happen as a byproduct of bureaucracy. Or even just paranoia. Iunno, bad guys creep me out the most when they do stuff because the feel it has to be done. It's not that they think it's the good or right thing to do, but if they don't do it something even worse will happen, or things will be unbalanced, or maybe he just really believes in anarchy -- however you want to do it. Or you could take a page out of lovecraft and have him be a cultist for some ancient religion that most people stopped worshiping ages ago. <3 cultists. >>

Aww...don't you guys have somekind of a voucher? "Right of passage" or something? Maybe you should use it and pass on. x3 Forgive the pun. *punts* DO NOT PASS GO. D:<

The moonlight was a fey and curious presence, casting cool shadows that caught at Vijako's attention and held it at odd, dazed intervals. "Dint hire ya fer desertion!" The voice came from above and slightly behind her, and she blinked rapidly at the sweet, pale light that illuminated dark stains on the gritty, rough ground of the alley. Dark corners leered at her, breathing rotten vapors that smelled of fish offal and waste. Her nose had already been rubbed in it. She struggled to rise, hip bursting fireworks into her consciousness, and under her flat spread fingertips was something slimy and wet over the stone. It stung. She spat blood; another viscous liquid to tango with the unidentifiable muck already there. The alleys could use a good rain, she decided. "'Ey!" Then a shin connected with the side of ribs that didn't hurt, and suddenly her whirling thoughts focused without exception on the second by second detail of how much her present situation sucked. "No pay. . .no stay. I'd got no gil!" Vijako's strangled voice erupted from her. "I tole ya nex' moon! Ya paid half, with orders ta stay solid, an' where I find ya?" His words were punctuated by another prodding foot, and with a hiss her hands skittered out from under her, and she felt the already split skin tear further. She knew this, but it didn't hurt just yet. Godspit, it was by reflex alone that it was her cheekbone that took the brunt of her head smacking against the ground, and not her nose. Her indrawn hiss of pain sounded too aggressive, and her reward was another snap of her tormentor's leg, this one landing on the hip that already hurt. She saw lightbursts that had nothing to do with the moon. "Jiver's Den." His voice was disgusted now, but she was concentrating too hard on her whimpering breaths to pay much mind. She was trying to focus, and could only see one of her hands in front of her, splotched with greasy oil and sticky spatters of some foreign liquid. Her hands had been mostly clean at early moonrise. Soon they would begin seeping blood. The nerves in her skin were too shocked to begin hurting. Yet. Impersonal fingers put an unwelcome pressure at the base of her back, and travelled up and down with an ease that bespoke practice. She was flipped onto her back, and they continued their journey, pausing only when the treasure, her treasure, was found and swiftly divested. Even as shockstruck as she was, she knew it was now no longer hers. She felt a trickle of something curve a path down her chin, but she couldn't be arsed to lift one of her hands to wipe it. Everything was raw and pulsing the promise of a greater pain come dawn. She could assume the only reason she was still alive was that her double cross for higher pay hadn't been seen through. She was being beaten for desertion, not betrayal. That was cold relief. She lay there, dazed, for an untold amount of time after the member of Fikker's Crew had left. The moon was preparing to disappear, but she knew she had to get back to the Jiver's Den soon, to tell the new masters of her fate what had transpired. Her body was crying out for rest, and she only gave a token effort to rising before the pain forced her moaning back flat against the sticky ground. Tomorrow. She would find the Jiver's Den again the next night. She slept where she lay.

Location: Limsa Lominsa A newly established smuggling ring of heavily regulated alchemical components (due to their tendency to emit toxic fumes when not rendered just right -- toxic fumes that when condensed into liquid and mixed with certain leaf pulp form an addictive and eventually deadly drug) is on the brink of being broken by Limsa's older and more heavily established criminal groups. The smuggling ring, headed by one Fikker Roust and known simply as Fikker's Crew, has been aware of the rising tensions. They have hired on several thugs and scoundrels to guard their ships and officers, and through the Jiver's Den have lost a few of these thugs to the competition by way of bribery. Fikker's Crew stands to be crushed by their competition. Information: The Jiver's Den is an informal haven of knaves and scoundrels, political upstarts and the socially malcontent. It is not a where so much as it is a who -- a circus of the underbelly freaks who haunt Limsa Lominsa's lesser known doorways and dockholes. They gather near every night, using word of mouth to collect their rogues, each location different from the last. It is not particularly a secretive operation, but even so it is not widely known among those who walk a straighter path. For those who are crooked, they only have to ask the right ear. It is in the Jiver's Den that deals are made and broken, ideas spread, illegal papers collected and disseminated. It is here that this thread takes place. Player roles: Feel free to be whatever. A member of an established group, a freelancer, an observer, a member of Fikker's Crew, Fikker himself. . .whatever goes. All I ask is that you keep it real and don't abandon the thread without saying something. A straight laced character is not likely to find the Jiver's Den, a loyal member of Fikker's Crew is not likely to be hobnobbing it with the opposition (unless he or she is spying), stuff like that. Please post at least once every few days, and send me a pm if you're ducking out. Have fun! edit - so we're able to work people in better, please post here if you want to join: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=555

I'm not so much working on anything big or grand. I think my biggest goal right now is to learn how to work through the doldrums by doing pbp. A few times now I've gotten to the point where I just don't want to post, and having to slog through several engaging and good quality posts when you really don't feel like writing is a good exercise. Hopefully once I get all of my various ideas into order for a story I want to tell by myself this practice will find me in good stead. I have the utmost respect for anyone who starts a project like this and sees it through.

It should be noted that they tuned the benchmark for future systems. They wanted to prove that the graphics will still be lovely and updateable for the future. So there shouldn't be a computer in existence for common retail that can score 8000 (hypothetically). edit- also, due to them being sponsered by nvidia, if you're running ati you're going to get lower scores than if you were running nvidia. That stuff should be fixed by launch though.

Ho man, this is impressive. I like everything. I also like the idea of 'relics' in the sense of IC bits and bobs to help give potential recruits an idea of who and what comprises the LS. I'd say leave it up to each individual LS on how they want to configure that, so they can strut their stuff in their own unique ways. Man, I can't wait!

Jeez man, whatever you're doing keep it up. This one almost looks better than the kitty (my kitty bias might swing this one though). Do one for all the other races now!

So simple, so beautiful, so FREAKING AWESOME. I know this is probably just shits and giggles for you, but man I just adore this image. Yeah, um, I'm going to save it once I get home.

I am pro roleplay. My friends are. . .well. . .very NOT roleplay. I foresee at least two characters: Viko, my miqo'te, and probably a Riktentia or Korinshina for my gamer buddies who have known me by those tags. I don't mind paying for the one extra, since that bumps the sub fee up to what I've paid for other games.

I'm too busy drooling over the thought of fishing to contribute in any significant way to this conversation. Carry on.

Oh me oh my, these make me happy.

I love Asus' gaming laptops. I don't know what their latest is, but I had a G2 for awhile and it was pretty smexy.

Oh, Core has a good post too with pics taken from the japanese website. http://www.ffxivcore.com/topic/7178-ffx ... 30th-2010

I'd suggest first poster c&p all of the information into the first post just in case anyone else can't access the sites either.

Beta hasn't even started yet . What are they thinking?

I picked Ul'dah because it's been awhile since I've had a nasty, dark character. Mostly I tend to play old women, awkward youths, and merchants. Ul'dah sounds gritty and dirty, which makes it interesting to me, and I think it's past time I get around to a rude and lightly socially awkward 'for hire' persona. With a bit of chillax thrown in. :3

Oh god, Ul'dah. I'm thinking my miqo'te keeper will be a mage-for-hire with a background as a child thief. >: D

I seem to be agreeing with Riki a lot.

I never played XI, so I want chocobos. I want to breed chocobos, and ride them, and love them and hug them and squuuuuuuu-- wait, wrong universe. >> *cough* Really I would like chocobo and other types of mounts. Why not? LET ME TAME MOBS AND RIDE THEM. I like that idea a lot.

I really like and agree with Tsumi and Rikitiki's posts. They are written in a friendly and concise manner, and get right to the heart of things.

To me, god moding is in effect controlling or directing a character/situation without previous consultation so other players are forced to rp in the direction the god moder wants to go in. It can be something as simple as auto-hitting someone's character (Max stabs Brisia in the eye) or something more complex to do with the environment (Max shoots fireballs in a circle around Brisia, so she can't escape without serious burns. Here it's not quite so obvious, but basically he'd be telling me I have no choice but to stay put or burn my character -- well maybe she can jump high enough to jump over the flames!). Even just outright controlling the character (Max tells Brisia to follow him to the cliff and to swear her allegiance, so she does). God moding could also just mean making an extremely powerful char that no one can contend with. I think I'm mixing up god moding with metagaming. 0o To me they're so similar as to be virtually indistinct. Largely though, imo, it comes down to controlling rp, without prior consultation, in such a way as to leave your fellow rpers without a choice but to do things your way.

So much to consider. @_@ *headasplodes*