LystAP

X'cinna's Gift - Goblet, Night Ravens House. Cinna laid down upon her ‘bed’ within the confines of a secure corner she shared with Aria within the Ravens’ house. Nowadays, Aria spends her time wandering what the Outsiders called the Goblet, although Cinna suspects she ventures into the lands called Thanalan and the large Outsider settlement of Ul’dah on occasion. She stares at the spear granted to her by the Outsider, Evangeline or ‘flower girl’ as she and Aria had come to call the eccentric Outsider, although she suppose it’s “Miss Primrose”now. The residence of the Ravens stinks of alcohol, perfume, rot and other unusual smells, although the former is not wholly unwelcome. Cinna has been drinking her way through the Ravens’ alcohol stores, and has been relatively unsatisfied with their potency; the large Outsider supposedly has a more potent collection, but Cinna has been unable to discover her stores, if there are any. At the very least, Cinna has started trying to recognize the symbols on the beverages as a means of discerning their likely alcoholic potency, it was far better than lazying about like a sluggish drake. The best drinks tended to have the word, ‘Limsa’ somewhere on the container, while those of ‘Gridiana’ have wider variety. The local brew from ‘Ul’dah’ varies widely as well, although most of it either tastes like swill or is overly flavorful. There were some bottles from “Ishgard”, a name Cinna recognized as the Outsider settlement closest to her homeland, of which her sept often raided wayward caravans originating or bound for the settlement. She lazied swirls a bottle in front of her, another bottle of what Miss Primrose called ‘Rotgut’ from ‘Limsa’. This was the drink favored by the large Outsider and is one of the few drinks potent enough to overwhelm her. Cinna took a swag of the bottle, “Ahh~”, her ears perk up as the alcohol took effect. She tried all of the different varieties of beverages within the house, tasted a variety of flavors and ‘proofs,’ a strange word. Cinna turns over on the bed, she tilted her head as her tail swirls about and wonders, why would anyone want to ‘prove’ something is a drink? Her amber eyes reflected off the bottle as she ponders this question. She turned her body around once more and beheld her growing collection of used bottles and flasks, occasionally she returned a container once the Masked Outsider or others make a fuss about it, but otherwise she couldn’t be bothered. Cinna places the bottle besides her makeshift bed before rolling onto her back, her tail sprouting beneath her raised upwards, playfully jerking around as she focused on the blue tip of her tail. The image of Anista playing with Nikha’s tail came into mind as she fidgets with the ends of her tail, she yanks back as she accidentally squeezes it. “Ouch~” Cinna softly petted her tail as a means of soothing her brief mistake, before sighing and closing her eyes. After a few moments, she felt like she was floating amidst a strong current, “Did I drink too much again~,” Cinna wondered yet too lazy to open her eyes. She should be lying on her bed as she was a few moments ago, therefore this must be another dream - the floating feeling elicited by her drunken stupor, although she was sure that she didn’t drink that much yet. A light flashed before her eyes and Cinna opened them in alert, ‘Did Aria set the stove on fire again?’ she wondered as she tried to spring to her feet, yet her feet felt if they were flailing in mid-air. In a panic, Cinna looked around and beheld a vast open space, not unlike the sea yet darkening around the edges, ‘Did I really drink that much? Or did ‘Miss Primrose’ spike the drinks? I was so careful…~’ Cinna scanned the horizon for a landmark before sensing a bright light from above. Looking up, Cinna beheld a star shower, not unlike the shooting stars of her homeland, yet much closer than she had ever seen them. “What?~”, Cinna blinked before trying to avoid the oncoming meteors; however, she remained locked in place as the falling stars shoot past her. Hear. Feel. Think. A mysterious voice echoes in the distance… Cinna suddenly jerked up on her bed, she looked around and felt the softness of the blanket blow her, she glanced at the bottle besides her bed and frowned.

The Hihijewa Spire - Topmost Floor - Night - The city of Ul’dah gleamed in the darkness - its shining towers as figures on a gilded frame over the dark rotting underbelly of a city that celebrates, yet is terrified of itself and the swarms of filth just outside the stone-inscribed walls. Within the walls, lays the Ossuary - a place of worship and corruption - where disease called ‘greed’ is worshipped and death is celebrated. The god of death, Nald’thal, is a divine being whom judges all by the weight of their sins - by which the Order of Nald’thal has conveniently (perhaps correctly) interpreted as the weight of gil, the weight of sin. Overlooking this holy place is a tower, among the many other shining mirages of a city supposed ruled by the worthy. This is the Hihijewa Spire - named after the illustrious Hihijewa Cacajewa of the East Aldenard Distribution Inc. The spire itself was not always named the Hihijewa Spire, it simply changed its name along with the head of the house that owned it. On the topmost floor, a window was opened towards the desert and the Ossuary beneath. A diminutive figure could be seen, glancing down at the streets; the windows of the spire are warded against most typical projectile weapons, a invisible barrier of cowardice born of Ul’dahian paranoia. Blonde hair tipped in jet black highlights matted her large pigtails as the woman looked down into the city proper, as well as the flames of the refugee camps beyond the walls. Some of her friends prefer blocking out light from the camps of the unworthy, but Hihisa Hisa, daughter of Hihijewa Cacajewa, enjoyed the ever-present reminder of a city at siege. The flames of the refugee camps around the city litter the night and Hihisa understood why many Ul’dahians desired for the Hammers to complete their work, so that progress can finally sweep away the undesirables from Ul’dah’s walls, replacing them with the golden manors of Ul’dahian’s true sons and daughters. Still… such dreams bore no amusement for Hisa, she was more concerned with the present - with this interesting scenario being played right now within the shadows of Thanalan. Fufutilo Keketilo, she’ve heard of him before within the Ul’dahian rumor mill, a reclusive (not exactly uncommon among the Ul’dahian elite) man and his Vylbrandi Chocobo, his renowned good-luck charm. A charm that Hisa supposed failed its purpose, given that it was stolen in the first place. Nevertheless, it does not seem that Fufutilo’s wealth has declined in the slightest since the theft - perhaps the piece was more of a placebo in the mind of the man - similar to her grandfather’s obsession with his antique Doman fan. However, it appears he has not quite given up on the piece; it also seemed to have gathered vilekin along the way: pesky adventurers, insane merchants, beastmen and a particularly well-known hitman.

It was a goblin trader, which is strange considering the presence of Mutamix. The law banning beastmen traders was a Royalist decree, probably by Nanamo's predecessor. Parts of the Syndicate doesn't particularly care for it, considering that there are Ul'dahian traders in Limsa (as well as in Ul'dah itself, if you finished all four of the original Beastmen tribe quests) bemoaning their countrymen's racism (and lack of financial vision.) [it is said in the Hildebrand quest chain that there were books about how the Amal'jaa fought alongside Ul'dah against Sil'dah.] In Limsa, the Kobolds were the ones that taught the pirates how to melt and refine cobalt, if I recall the ARM quest chain. They had a formal territorial agreement with Limsa (which Limsa unilaterally broke and made Y'shtola grumpy).

Best race Hmm, have you tried other races? :3

So much Elezen.

No wait, I can't.

In the Goblet - at the House of the Clipped/Bright Ones X’cinna walked down the street to the house of the ‘Bright Ones,’ as they call themselves these days. These Clipped of the Falling Stars have been liberated from their sept and openly reside within the Outsider territory of Ul’dah. Cinna approached the house, where a sentry looked outwards, while three additional individuals could be seen nearby talking nearby in the shade. Unlike the previous night, Cinna approached openly and immediately visible towards all, especially those at the house. The sentry spotted her and alerted the others, two of them took once glance at Cinna and scurried into the house, the other laughed at them and glanced at Cinna. “Hello Naya, Hello Orri,” Cinna greeted the sentry and the remaining woman. “You again, why have you returned? Did you forget something on the lawn?,” Orri suspiciously responded. “Come now, Orri. X’cinna is a ‘Bright One’ now, at least in spirit,” Naya murfully states, her clipped tail swishing as she sat with a few gil spread ontop the lawn table. Orri hissed, “She may be outcast, but she has not been Clipped. I remember what you did, X’cinna. What you did to me!” Cinna frown and lower her head slightly, “I’m sorry Orri. For what I did to you, while you were being clipped. If you’ll like, I can open up a wound and let you throw alcohol into it.” Orri recoils in shock, “I… no. Nikha will be sad. And X’orri, who enjoyed such things is dead. You killed her. But after listening… Orrin… maybe…” Cinna advanced and stepped on the grass, the action snaps Orri back into the present, drawing her spear, “You step on our territory, X’cinna! If not for Nikha’s grace, I would have killed you right here?!” “Oh, I see you still got some fire left in you,” Cinna smirked back at Orri. “What about a warm-up? I’ve been getting bored recently.” “A warm-up?” Orri responds in confusion, while Naya’s eyes open wide. “Yes, a warm-up,” Cinna draws her spear as Orri involuntary hisses and takes a defensive posture. “Orri of the Bright Ones. I X’cinna Ares challenge you to a test of strength and skill!” Cinna twirls her spear around and brandishes it at Orri. Orri stared at Cinna’s display in shock, alongside Naya. This continued for about a minute before Naya responds, “This… this… you would offer this to a Clipped? No. Orri. She may seem as one of us, but her body is a Warrior still!” Naya stands up from the table, accidentally knocking some of her precious gil on the grass. Orri remains still, her body still in a defensive stance; however, tears could be seen streaking down her face as her body shook, “You… X’cinna… you could see me as a warrior? Orri?” “Yes. Orri. You are strong, strong enough to become Orri despite being Clipped. Many others would have chosen death, preferred death.” Orri shook her head, still crying somewhat, “No. Orri. Was afraid of death.” “Yes. Orri was. But all living things fear death, I learned this from the Outsiders. From Nikha. But that is fine. It means we are alive, Orri…” Cinna shudders somewhat, surprised at her own words. “The Warlord… we… stripped you of worth to the Sept, but you… valued your life, yourself. You wanted to live, Orri. You wanted… something… for yourself.” Naya continued standing there in shock, while Orri stared straight at Cinna. Tears still streaked down Orri’s eyes, but her eyes seem to brighten. A spear twirls through the air and is brandished at X’cinna. “X’cinna Ares, I Orri of the Bright Ones, accept your challenge!” A confident smile appeared on Orri’s tear-streaked face, spurring Cinna’s memories of the past, she could see traces of a almost predatory smirk on Orri’s face. “Naya, go inside and tell the others. Tell them not to be alarmed of our challenge,” Orri instructs Naya. Naya nods before hurrying into the house, her white-clipped tail trailing behind her. Cinna and Orri face off on the lawn, the same lawn by which Orri encountered the dragoon in the previous night and barred their spears proudly at each other. From the house windows and by the doorway came a multitude of curious (and scared) eyes of the Clipped within. The wind blew across the lawn, blowing Cinna and Orri’s hair along, their tails twitching and muscles tensing. “Naya, you give the signal,” instructed Cinna. A sound came from behind the slightly opened door, “Ah yes, X’cinna.” A few seconds passed, “Start~”, the word sent Cinna and Orri immediately lunging at each other. Their spears intersect and they both evaded at the last second; a series of gasps came from the house as the Clipped watched. Landing on her feet, Cinna smirked and reached for one of the bundles of sticks on her back; Orri widened her eyes and dodged the thrown stick. “Still like to toss things, X’cinna!” Orri lunged once more at Cinna, whom brought her spear up as she evaded Orri’s lunging thrust. “Always wanting to get up in everyone’s business, Orri!” Cinna suddenly rammed her kneel into Orri’s distracted gut, and she spat out as the kick sent her flying upwards. Cinna positioned her right leg in a diagonal position and smacked into Orri with her strength, propelling her skywards. Cinna lunged up with her spear, as more gasping and crying came from the house. Cinna smiled viciously at her spear raised at the flying Orri. However, “X’cinna, your not the only one who learned new tricks!” Hefting her spear while in-mid-air, Orri twisted, using the weight of her spear to spin and with a shock, she rocketed down, forcefully thrusting her spear ground-ward by fortifying her body and lunging mid-air with all her abnormal strength. Cinna gasped as she tried to evade Orri’s rocketing strike and the latter spear passed by Cinna’s by a ilm, slicing pieces of her clothing before smashing into the ground. Cinna jumped back as she beheld the result of Orri’s crashing dive, a small crater could be seen where Orri landed, her spear surprisingly intact despite its head wholly buried in the ground. Orri knelt on the ground, panting but proceeded to look up at Cinna, there was a mirthful smile on her face as she stood up and with one swift motion, pulled the spear out of the ground. “You are someone new, Orri,” Cinna replied. “Your as serious as ever, X’cinna,” Orri responded, “Ah. The lawn.” Cinna and Orri looked down at the crater, “Nikha will get mad if she comes back and see this. I do not think we would be able to keep this a secret.” As if waiting for that statement, cries of joy and applause came from the house, “Wow Orri! That was great!”, “You sure showed that warrior!”, “Do you think… we could…?!?”, “Orri!”, the praise went on and on as Orri beamed at the house and her compatriots. Cinna on the other hand, looked rather annoyed, “Not a cheer for me avoiding that strike, although I supposed it couldn’t be helped…,” she muttered. Cinna brandished her spear once more, “Let us continue, Orri!” Orri looked back from the house, “Of course, X’cinna. I’m not finished with you yet!” Taking up their positions, they bared their skills at each other and began again. Afterwards, the lawn has a suspiciously barren patch on it, although if any one asked, Orri would respond that she got bored and decided to dig a little. Cinna returned to the Ravens’ house with her clothing torn up, exposing herself to a unfortunate seeker-turned-keeper in the process.

I will come. On X'cinna Ares for A! I wish Ai could come for B, being a Allagan expert. But that will depend on them!

Inside a high-class manor amidst the spires of Ul'dah A shining well-furnished room was illuminated by the Ul’dahian noon sun. Soft-clinking could be heard from a glass of ice crystals, slowly melting in the sunlit beams. A lalafellin woman could be seen sitting on a table, her hands swirling the heavily inscribed crystal glass cup. Hihisa Hisa, daughter of the illustrious Hihijewa Cacajewa of the East Aldenard Distribution Inc., sighed as she stared at the slowly melting ice crystals. “Is there problem, madam Hisa?,” a nearby steward asked. Hisa ignored him and continued sighing at the glass, the steward maintained his position. He and many others of the house were used to being ignored, a almost universal trait of the Ul’dahian elite regarding low-ranked servants. That said, Mister Hihijewa paid enough and occasionally honored their service, even if his children did not. Hisa closed her eyes and recalled a recent social engagement with a few other scions of the Syndicate, “Did you hear the rumors?”, “A shadowy figure amidst Ul’dah,” “They say they’re looking for a cursed item,” “So many thugs and adventurers poking around,” “Did you hear what they did to that entrepreneur?!?,” “Really, someone should do something about this~”. Hisa opened her eyes, brushing her blonde hair aside. In the sunlight, she appeared as a beautiful doll, if one could wrap up childish innocence into a frame forged by greed and ambition; her blonde hair ended in dark jet black highlights, as if the darkness creeped about her facade of a child, tainting her golden hair and casting shadows about; her bright eyes, of which many a suite complimented as being alike to that of the Sultana, gleamed in the light as they devoured the crystals of the glass, like a fire consuming a ornate church. “Hmm.” Hisa murmured as the steward straightened in response, “Should we do something about this? Hmm~” She let out a smile with a look as brilliant as the sun, yet could also be seen as that of a rabid cat eying prey in the distance. The steward knew by now in his career that it would be pointless, if not dangerous to suddenly interject so he remained silent, eyes alert for the daughter of his master’s commands. “You. Fetch me my linkshells.” “At once, my lady.” As the steward turned to leave, he could hear Hisa humming, representative of her being in a good mood. Perhaps, he’ll get a bonus this moon after all. Or not… many of his fellow servants can predict the whims of their generous master, his wife and children, less so.

Given how predominant the Au Ra are in Othard, any Ul'dahian worth their salt would recognize them, especially those involved in trade. As for Ceruleum Mines, if I recall, Ceruleum is like oil. You don't actually mine it, and it would be difficult for Garlemeld to use slave labor around such a precious resource. They also don't really need to rely on slave labor because they have magitek, constructs don't need to be fed [also playing with the Empire's over-dependence on using technology; they're a people who make magitek claws load cannons just because]. Most of the 'bad' things come from the refugee populations that Garlemeld creates from their expansion, such as Doma and Ala Mhigo. It is also implied that a fair proportion of the Legions forcefully conscript their soldiers (especially the legion under Gaius's command in Ala Mhigo), so instead of being a miner, your Au Ra could have been a conscript sent into battle as fodder by some of the more sadistic centurions. Of course, information is scarce about what actually happens in Othard and Ul'dah doesn't lack unscrupulous merchants.

Aigiarn Kha is mostly loyal to her family, her friends, and her mentor in Garlemeld. The latter isn't necessarily loyal to the Garlean Empire, but the ideas of the old Republic. The former is still roaming the steppes of Othard, relatively free as in the old days, considering the importance of trade across Othard. Her friends are here, and she is loyal to them, as they helped her.

Aigiarn Kha would like to come! If no newbies are involved.

Hehe. I spy Hihisa! So cute! :moogle: I think it's a matter of practice. For some, the transition from pen and paper to tablet is jarring, especially since it doesn't feel as right. This is how I feel when writing, I typically enjoy handwriting, but typing took some time to get used too.

Aigiarn bubbled in the hot spring, feeling her wounds soothed over by the spring water at Camp Bronze Lake. She had heard of the healing properties of the hot springs at this Maelstorm affiliated It has been awhile since that expedition up north. While her skills were successful in saving the airship as it descended, the battle with the Kaiser Behemoth afterwards left her incapacitated and covered with wounds. Afterwards, she found herself back at camp within the infirmary; apparently one of the dragoons had carried her back to camp. She remembered a gentle, yet gruff voice and it carried the memories of a dragoon infused with the power of the Maximus she strove to replicate, diving into the raging Kaiser Behemoth like it was another of the Dravanian monstrosities, that the dragoons had sworn to destroy, during the last battle for Ishgard. She recalled that gallant figure and smiled happily. “Ser Orrin was it? How I would like to replicate his power.” She’s been developing this weird fetish recently, fascinated with the supernatural strength of Eorzeans. From Flame Captain Maximillian Maximus to Orrin Halgrin, was it? Aigiarn frowns as she remembers that dragoon, whom carried her gently back to camp. They shared a discussion afterwards, where she expressed her thanks. Aigiarn blushed as she recalled their discussion, he seemed really interested in what she had to say and had a gentle, yet firm demeanor. She regretted calling him a pervert at the very beginning of their exchange, when he touched her tail; although it couldn’t be helped, since it was a self-defensive response created by her time here in Eorzea. He accompanied her to Camp Bronze Lake for recuperation; in the process, she stayed in a hot spring far too long and passed out. When she came, she spotted him surrounded by beautiful women. “He was with those two women, I thought it rude to interrupt, I wonder if they are his mistresses,” Aigiarn muses. A strong and seasoned dragoon like him would surely have many admirers as well as partners, the image of his strong and noble physique embracing his admirers like a Ishgardian highborn seizing a lowborn maid makes her squeak with delight. as she twacks the water behind her with her tail. The water sprays around her as she absentmindedly tailslaps the water, *cough*, “Could you stop that madam?” a voice rings out. She looks around and spying nothing but a strange green rock, thought to herself, “I thought I heard someone talking?” A response came back, “I’m right here, you silly girl.” The unusual green rock slowly turned. Aigiarn gasped! The green rock had two big amber eyes set upon a smooth, perhaps scaley head. It stared at her like a big round rock and a strange obscene urge came over Aigiarn. The green thing with big amber eyes recoiled, “What?” A splash of water and Aigiarn was upon it, squeezing the thing’s adorable green round head into her towel-wrapped chest. “Unhand me you woman of loose morals!” The little green thing flailed in Aigiarn’s loving but unforgiving arms. Having her fill of hugging, Aigiarn eventually loosened her grip and let go of the cute green thing. It staggered around the spring in a confused state, before plopping down into the water. After a little while, the cute green thing raised it’s head and stared at Aigiarn, before…. “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING! YOU LOOSE WOMAN! RUBBING YOUR BODY ALL OVER ME! I SHOULD STRONGLY CHASTISE YOU FOR HARASSMENT!” The angry green thing let loose a shout that shocked nearby patients into flight. Aigiarn blinks, “What? Ah!” She blushes, “I’m Sorry! You were just so cute and round! And I had to deal with a lot of stress recently!” The green thing twitched at the word ‘cute’, before shaking its’ head, “I once had the most excellent physique of the renowned Scholars of Nym, yet now I have been reduced to a hug toy for childish girls.” The green thing shook it’s head once more before staring at Aigiarn with it’s round yellowish eyes, eliciting another burst of desire barely repressed by her embarrassment and the thing’s obvious dislike for cuddling. It looked up at Aigiarn, it’s eyes narrowing as it attempted to look cross, “I am Ibes Habes, formerly a pre-eminent Scholar of Nym and currently, a very unfortunate Tonberry.” Aigiarn looks at the cute Tonberry thing in puzzlement, “A tonberry?” Ibes stares at her with his big yellowish beady eyes, “Yes, you ignorant woman! Haven’t you realized the importance of information gathering, even in a place of leisure!” Ibes sternly shook his round arms at Aigiarn. “I suppose none of the residents bothered telling you new arrivals; since death of the plague here, we Tonberries have been relatively accepted, although many of my kin feared assault for our monstrous appearance.” Aigiarn responds, “I… I don’t think your monstrous, Ser Ibes.” Ibes stared at Aigiarn, “It may be so, yet I doubt your highly questionable assessment of our looks should be valued. At the very least, they allow us to wander around this settlement after the incident.” Aigiarn stares at Ibes, whom stares back. This continues for about ten minutes, until Aigiarn started to feel hot again from staying in the hot spring water. “Ah.” She broke her stare and climbed up the platform where Ibes was. The tonberry turned and looked at her intensely, Aigiarn involuntarily moved to cover her bosom, “Wha… what are you looking at?” Ibes chuckled, “So you have some modesty after all.” Ibes’s beady tonberry eyes examines Aigiarn, “Hmm, scales, horns, only natural. Mmm. You must be one of the scale folk from the greater continent, if I am correct.” Aigiarn blinks, “Scale… folk? Ah.” Her tail swishes nervously, “I am a Xaela! My name is Aigiarn Kha of the Kha Tribe!” The tonberry scratches his chin, “Ah, a racial name and tribal identification. And what is your occupation?” Aigiarn stares at Ibes briefly, before declaring, “I am a Magitek Engineer of Garlond Ironworks, and part-time adventurer!” Ibes raises his arm in a thoughtful manner, “Magitek? Hmm. Ah. I recall hearing about it. Mmm. Interesting means of bypassing natural aetheric limitations, through the mechanical manipulation of tangible aetheric resources. Little wonder you are so excitable, given that only the insane or overconfident would pursue such a unstable pastime.” Aigiarn’s tail shoots upward in anger, “Hey! Magitek is a wonderful and innovative field of study!” “It is a field that pushes the ambitious and foolhardy to overstep their limits, as the Mhachi with their void magicks,” Ibes interrupted. “The Mhachi? You mean those who pursue ‘black magic?’” Aigiarn mutters, “Ho? So you know of them?” Ibes responds. “Only in my studies of the War of the Magi.” “Ah.” The tonberry spoke with a tinge of sadness, “Poor Nym weathered many storms, but ultimately found its’ walls grinded into dust. Our memories nearly lost.” “Hmm, Nym?” Aigiarn exclaims, remembering the word from her trip up north. “Did I stutter, did I not announce myself a pre-eminent Scholar of Nym! DO YOU NOT KNOW WITHIN WHICH RUINS THIS SETTLEMENT RESIDES?” The tonberry pounces and slaps Aigiarn’s cheeks with its round hands, which held quite a bit of force, despite the tonberry’s diminutive stature. “Ow! I’m still wounded you know!” Aigiarn yelps. She splashes water over the site the Tonberry slapped her. “I’m surprised such a thick-skulled girl like you would get hurt from some proper discipline.” Ibes bluntly stated, as Aigiarn frowned and protectively covered her cheeks with her hands. “Although I am interested in how a girl like you would suddenly express interest in the prestigious name of Nym.” Ibes waddles closer as Aigiarn draws back, still covering her cheeks. “How about it? If your story is interesting enough, I may just forgive your ignorant transgressions, thick-headed girl,” waddles close and stares into her with his big beady Tonberry eyes. Aigiarn seizes up as she fights the urge to embrace that diminutive, yet embraceable form. “Yes…, this strange Miqo’te woman calling herself the Whiteseer mentioned the name of Nym.” Aigiarn tells him of what she knows, of a sept of miqo’te supposedly imposed upon by ancient Nym; as a side, she also recalls her encounter with similarly phenotype miqo’te in Thanalan, and notes the discussion of her comrades regarding materia absorption. The tonberry seems absorbed in thought, “This feels somehow familiar, as if I should recall it.” The tonberry narrows its beady eyes as he tries to remember something, “Hmm, perhaps there is something, but time is required. The rancor has left its mark on me, as did the passing of centuries.” “Oh!” Aigiarn perks up, her tail shooting up in excitement. “This is direct aetheric biological manipulation; from what little I recall, it was a unfortunate field that emerged out of the Kingdom’s desperation against the Mhachi.” Ibes put his right round hand under his chin as he thought, “I had presumed that the projects to have failed, given the state of Nym as it is now. Fittingly, it was a mistake to mirror the reckless abandon of the Mhachi in the vain hopes of outwitting the void mages.” The tonberry shrugged, or at least it seemed like a shrug to Aigiarn. “Yet, this fascinates me. It has been so long since I underwent a intellectual pursuit. Mmm.” Ibes placed his round hands once more upon his chin, a scene that invoked her old mentor in Garlemeld. “Ah. Ser Ibes, you will look into this?” Aigiarn looked on with a bright smile, which made Ibes do a double take at Aigiarn with his cute round tonberry head. “That smile… Mmm, I see why anyone bothered to teach you. You have that shining look, which reminds me of myself in the old days.” “Yes. I will look into this, although I cannot guarantee I would find anything, nor would be certain it would be of interest to you.” Ibes stated. Aigiarn exclaimed, “Oh! It would be interesting to me, it is my dream to learn all about the diversity of technologies created in Eorzea!” Ibes stared at Aigiarn, “Well, all would be quite improbable for one with a definitive lifespan,” he spoke. “But your eagerness is noted.” The tonberry stares off at the Wanderer’s Palace in the distance, “if you or any of your associates have time, it would be pleasant for us to have visitors, if they do not mind our looks. Perhaps something would have been uncovered about these miqo’te and the fate of our ill-conceived desperation. I will confer with what colleagues I have. I will investigate this matter on the side as we negotiate with the local settlements, Limsa was it?” Ibes rotated and plopped into the water, moving to leave. “May we meet again, Miss Aigiarn Kha.” Aigiarn squeaked as she was splashed by the water emitting from the tonberry’s descent. “Ah! Yes, Ser Ibes. Oh! May I make a request before you leave?” Ibes turned to regard Aigiarn whose tail is swishing about with anticipation, she beheld Ibes’s cute round head, staring at her with his beady oval eyes, just above the waterline, “Yes?” “Can I hug you?” “No.” “Aww.”

You can doodle my Lala for greater range. If you'll like. Hehe. :moogle:

1. Aigiarn has a childhood taste for vilekin of all varieties, much to the bewilderment of her friends and FC. She often tries to sample the native vilekin of Eorzea, especially given the lack of locally-approved vilekin to consume, with varying success. 2. She has a pre-disposition towards infusing her magitek constructs with animal attributes. From a Reaper that thinks it's a chocobo to bird-minded flocks of annoying Magitek Bits. 3. She's a closet pervert, shipping people and things despite maintaining her 'innocence.' However, she gets easily flustered when it's her that's the center of attention. 4. Aigiarn has a very animate tail, she uses it to help her with a variety of tasks. 5. Aigiarn loves flying and will take any opportunity to do so.

Woo! I Like It!

It's not like a voidsent is going to pop out of one of those carriages. Hehe. If no newbies sign-up, I would like Aigiarn Kha to go as well. Because money. Edit: Might be going home during this, will try to show up, but may have to skip.

Sign me up for C! Following the Light (Saturday, June 18th, 2016, 8 pm CST or earlier)

Well, in a sense, the clergy also exploited the highborn as well for their war. By separating church from state - you give more power to the high houses, whom no longer need religious motivations to do what they want. While the highborn base a lot off their legitimacy off religious reasons, it doesn't change the fact that they're essentially the rulers of the nation, with or without that Halonic legitimacy; since there are many men who are honestly loyal to them, as exemplified by some of the quests you do. Mind, they have to contend with the House of Commons, but they're also one of the only sources of funding and connections in a historically isolated nation-state that can support those trying to get elected in the Commons. It's the same as with what would have happened in Ul'dah; although the latter would probably be worse, since it's apparently a tradition to bribe people there.

*eagerly awaits drawings* :chocobo:

Inside the Workshop, banging and zapping sounds could be heard. A Magitek Reaper-class Construct stood upright, as parts of it’s internal workings were left open. A small flock of magitek bits fluttered around the Reaper, polishing and sterilizing the armor plates with medium-energy magitek beams, while other bits roost in the scaffolding of the workshop. At the front, where a heavily modified bit flutters with a diversity of tools attached to it, a Au Ra woman could be seen tinkering with the Reaper’s core casing. Her upper body is obscured by the Reaper’s plate as her tail eagerly swishes back and forth like a upright pendulum. A bit carrying a variety of tools hovers overhead and occasionally the woman’s tail hooks a tool off the bit, before lowering it down into the Reaper’s innards as she works. “There’s sand everywhere. Sand in the motor, sand in the core, sand in the cannon.” She musically muses as her tail lifts and holds up a tool she previously used. The tool-carrying bit snags the tool with its’ barrel and deftly launches it into the air before catching it on its tool racks. The Reaper shudders as the woman pulls at a internal valve and suddenly a torrent of sand spills out of the Reaper’s chassis, washing out nearby Mammets and Model Vanguards. A small strange red orb agitatedly hovers over the small avalanche of sand and ascends to the Reaper’s compartment as some of the magitek bits swarm the sandy floor, vacuuming, polishing and sterilizing the sand. “User Aigiarn, this Accompaniment Node must insist that you …bzzt… follow basic mechanical procedures regarding the disposal of earth and earth-based aether. Failure could result in the agitation of natural elements into rebellion, …bzzt… per Protocol 51.4.” Aigiarn lifts her head, narrowing missing the armor plate above her. “I thought you lost all of your protocols, Node?” She glances up at the Accompaniment Node with a smirk. ‘Node’ flashes red and whirls, “I have been parceling together information from my databanks, while much is still DAMAGED - DELETED - I have managed to restore approximately 11% of my files within a confidence level of 0.10.” Aigiarn smiles up at the refurbished node. “Maybe. Maybe.” She lifts her head and bounces into the plate above her. “Ow!” ‘Node’ beeps, “User Aigiarn, you must be careful… bzzt… this is the 112 incident this month…bzzt… moon…” Rubbing her head, Aigiarn glares at ‘Node’, “I know, I know.” Her tail swishes agitatedly. Rubbing her head, a magnificent, if not terrifying image comes to her mind. Her heart felt as if it briefly stopped as she recall the power of one Flame Captain Maximillian Maximus. His manly physique, his impossible athletics, his thundering rapport, and the aetheric lightning sparking in the desert moonlight and illuminated by the defensive wards, creating an exemplary image of a heroic eikon. Above all, his magnificent mustache, a rival for any senator or centurion in Garlemeld. Had he been in service to the Empire, Legatuses would have fought each other for the privilege of adding him to their ranks. In a sense, Aigiarn is perplexed as to his rank of Captain, as surely he could have been promoted to Colonel by this point. The sight of his righteous fist slamming into the sinister Tia of the Falling Stars, the force shattering his nose before smearing his face with the remnants of it, the force compressing the tia’s eyes, mouth, cheeks and forehead into the rest of his head. The aetheric lightning of his fist thrusting into the tia’s face with the compressed force of Maximus’s righteous fist, piercing through the tia’s face as if the tia’s unnaturally handsome features were a blasphemy to the Twelve of Eorzea, and the Captain’s absolute fist was a cleansing lance through the maw of some heretical monstrosity. The sight of the tia’s skull crackling and exploding off his neck in a shower of gore and lightning, the moonlight and wards reflecting off the glistening and sparkling material, agitating his glorious mustache to a glimmering polish, while simultaneously illuminating his thrusting, piercing fist, raised to the heavens in pronouncement of divine victory. Aigiarn understood why the remaining huntresses promptly surrendered before this enrapturing display of dominance. She frowns as she recalls the arrogant smirk of one of the huntresses, X’cinna, whom somehow managed to enrage her Reaper’s Mammet Core. Against the technological might of her Reaper, the huntresses were amazing reliant. Even the Dotharl of the steppes couldn’t deflect a point-blank magitek cannon blast with their skin. The others also spoke of biological materia absorption, of which intrigues Aigiarn's inner technologist. On the other hand, Flame Captain Maximus pierced their natural defenses with a single aetheric lightning-infused drilling punch. While she was initially solely interested in the unnatural reliance of the Falling Stars, the sheer power of Maximus’s fist superseded that reliance by malms. Aigiarn smiles broadly as she analyzes the Captain’s physique in her mind’s eye, perhaps she could redesign her projectiles, modify the body of her constructs, create a personal light source with one’s inner aether, or develop a training regime with that knowledge; so many possibilities emerge and compete inside Aigiarn’s mind, like imperial Senators engaged in “vigorous debate” on the Senate floor of Garlemeld. “User Aigiarn, your heart rate has elevated… bzzt…”, Aigiarn ignores Node’s diagnostic and continues mentally scanning the Captain of her memories. “Oh, I would love to study the Captain more throughly. I wonder if he’ll let me implant sensors around his fist. If I replace his knuckles with a pair of modified Ironworks Magitek Jamadhars. When he practices, I may be able to learn so much… Teehee. <3” She leans on the Reaper’s forward plate, her tail happily swishing back and forth as Node flashes agitatedly, in anticipating of all of the future knowledge to be had, from both the Captain and the Falling Stars. In the background, the flock of magitek bits have started fighting over a large, but extremely well-polished pile of sand.

Willing to be a fill-in for Discreet Adventurers.

While I already signed up for a), I'm willing to be on standby for c) The Final Resting Place of Mister Gagaraju.

Sign Aigiarn Kha for A) and C)! Might be Busy during C, so A if we only get one.