Nomine

This looks pretty fun, I'm certainly down, sign up Ahtyn Ryoushi for the Eorzean alliance! Or in a pinch I can play a garlean role to help out.

... So which one's Syl and which one's Jeris? Depends on the day and the amount of booze!

Jeris and Syl, 100%

Ho man Jeris has a TON! The most noticeable is his missing eye, lost in a desperate gamble to save himself and a friend from certain doom! Dramatic, aye(eye)! He has a few cuts across his cheek and lip from where his son whom he hasn't seen for a number of years beat the living hell out of him at their last parting. Across his left shoulder and neck is extensive scarring from burns sustained from rescuing said son as a child from their burning home. He has a number of other scars across his torso and chest from bullet wounds, stab sounds, cuts and gouges from a rather rough life in the wilds and on sea, plenty with their own stories but the top few are definitely the most notable.

I would love to get in on this! I've got a few jobs to 50 but a fairly geared Paladin, and I'm more than happy to play any sort of dps or tanking role. I'm afraid I haven't had much luck messaging anyone in game, or getting on at the right times to catch more folks, but the name is Jeris Guillford if you folks would have me.

He certainly knew better, but he had been feeling right sorry for himself as of late. Linette being taken away, Rivi being injured, and a part of him that he thought long since buried creeping back up was a bit much to take in. His work with the Misericorde was ruthless and brutal, certainly, but his participation was efficient, but merciful if he could afford it to any Garleans they came across. No, that wasn't what had been the most damaging to his current state of mind... It was how he had treated Rivi. She had been a proper arse herself of course, but he was callous, cold and hateful and he couldn't help but imagine how disappointed his son would have been if he had saw it. A pretty pathetic representation of the 'Hero of the Realm' he always talked himself up to be. Guilt and self-loathing were always fine drinking companions, and tonight in his room at the Mizzenmast Inn, why he'd gone through more than one bottle. Such drinking companions can only sustain oneself for only so long, and after he grew tired of their company, he finally came to a proper drunken conclusion. That he could only move forward! And to move forward, he had to continue training, studying, and bettering himself in every skill he could, not to mention being a better man. His current situation provided some limitations of course. The first being that he was very thoroughly intoxicated, and certainly couldn't read. That is to say that he could, his time with the Arcanists of Limsa Lominsa had afforded him a very thorough education. More specifically, when he tried to read, the letters and shapes simply would not cooperate, and took to fighting and fidgeting amongst themselves, often blurring together to form a completely indecipherable hodgepodge that he was -convinced- a miquo'te named Mr. Bandersnatch had snuck into his Grimoire. Clearly this was utter nonsense as Mr. Bandersnatch was an upstanding historian of the Baldescion scholars, of whom he had never met. The second reason being that he could not find his pants. Rather, he could not find what he thought was his pants. When studying was out of the question, he resolved to exit his room and train, in his excitement, he grabbed his pants, mistaking them for a shirt, and tore them in half in an effort to get them over his shoulders and arms. Eventually he found the legitimate articles of clothing, (save the pants of course) and stomped around his room in a billowy shirt, a pair of boots, and completely naked from waist down, demanding that whatever Kobald stole his trousers show itself immediately, assuring it that in fact, his pants would not fit the Primal Titan, and insisting that he would have to wear the shoddy loincloth he last saw him in. Naturally, no such Kobald existed. Tonight. It is important to note that on three separate occasions, Jeris has indeed had trousers stolen by the Kobalds of La Noscea who grew quite jealous at how magnificently he could pull off a pair of pants. I mean honestly, have you seen him? He's got the thighs for it. Nevertheless, with no resolution in sight he set upon what he saw as the only art he could reasonable refine in the confines of his room: Alchemy. It didn't hurt that he ran out of ale about this time and figured it was as good a time as any to perfect his signature recipe for his own brew. Now, normally, alchemy is an art of precision and careful calculation. The fact that he was both entirely too enthusiastic, -and- was unable to read any of the labels on his ingredients should have been a clear indicator that this was a bad idea, but Jeris Guillford is not a man who heeds warnings. Or common sense. Or reason in many cases. Perhaps it was the hand of the divine that guided him. Perhaps it was his mind intuitively creating something incredible and wondrous which there could have been quite a market for! Or, perhaps it was the fact that instead of adding an onze of Clove oil, he added the entire damned bottle of Growth formula Beta that caused his Alembic to expand, warp, and fissure, spraying him down with Eorzea's first ever MIRACLE HAIR GROWTH ELIXIR OF WONDER™. The concoction was rather impressive. His exposure had caused such a rapid reaction, that when he began to gather his wits (somewhat) and pull himself up to a mirror, curious as to what injury he had sustained, that he mistook himself for a giant Spriggan, let out a girlish shriek, and while trying to cover his longsword so to speak, he slipped in a puddle of the alchemical mixture, and promptly fell out the window and into the cool ocean waves below. The next morning, once the residents of Costa Del Sol had calmed down from the initial response of "Black Seaweed Monster" rising out of the deep, a sober Jeris Guillford managed to call in a favor or two and quickly dealt with his....situation. Much to his surprise (after hours of grooming) not only had his hair grown to quite ludicrous amounts, but the gray had been pushed out to the very edges, leaving him with naught a speck, but the jet black color he sported before it had crept in early in his life. With the praise and approval of his new look the courtesans who undertook the lofty task of such a grooming had given, he strode back into Limsa Lominsa with an overflowing well of confidence and a renewed sense of self-worth. And a speedo on loan. ((and that's how I justify my Fantasia potion icly, boom!))

I'm going to be perfectly honest, I definitely did not expect to laugh as hard as I did, bravo indeed!

I'm the prettiest scum!

Jeris gave a nod and grin to the two Miquo'te. "Pleasure to meet you both. Navigator guide your path." Hooo maybe that was a hint as to his history, but if it was it would have to be delved into at another time. "I'll see to it our blushing beauty here finds her way home safely." He reached over to grab his mug and raise it in a toast to the two gentleman along with a wink. "And put your mind at ease, I'm not -that- bad of a scoundrel.....well, not anymore." cackling into his mug, he quickly finished off the drink and sat the mug back on the table top. Bowing his head with an overstated effort, he shot her a wink. "I'll see you home if you'll allow me dear Linette. We'll all enjoy a repeat of tonight's company soon I'm sure or have the honor of standing side by side out in the field."

Empathy? Oh yeah Jeris was all over that. "HA!" He slapped his hand against the table with a start, and let out a bellowing laugh. "Aye, that's the way!" Even laughing though, he wouldn't even pause as he rose out of the seat, a slight grimace of discomfort as he shifted out of his seat and moved to her side, kneeling down and reaching a hand out, every inch a display of gentlemanly conduct, despite being a large contributing factor to the debacle at hand. "Getting into the adventuring lifestyle will require friendly relationship with the floor, at least when a good drink is involved. Here, let me help you up and I'll make you a deal. Help me with my injuries next time, and I'll provide you with some drinks to get some more tavern experience eh?"

The answers were straightforward enough and entirely reasonable. The motives behind them however, well that was something that would have made a great tale. A pair off on their own escaping something and into the world on their own terms? Or perhaps proving themselves for another matter entirely. Then of course there was the matter of Linette inquiring him about his bandages and not a healer, which was an entirely reasonable question. "Why, to catch the eye of pretty girls of course." He replied with a grin as he cackled into his mug. Naturally, he couldn't help but reply with an awful answer.

Jeris sat there, his mouth slightly agape as Linette spun her captivating tale of danger, heroism, and....opo-opo's. After she finished speaking and shot Muin a look Jeris simply shook his head, pausing to take another drink of his mug. "Looks and Humility....boys you ran into quite the gem!" He held his hand up to silence any sort of remark and nodded. "No no, it's alright, I understand. Pride can be a vice for certain, but no doubt this threat was something far more epic in scale. A primordial perhaps!? A giant Opo-opo that would cause even the relentless war machine of the Empire to pause in it's advance. And there stood the three of you, a final bastion of hope for Gridania against this malevolent threat. With naught but your mastery of the Aether, Muin's unparalleled resourcefulness, even turning a mundane vegetable into an instrument of destruction~!" You bet he picked up on that subtle guilty waver beneath Linette's hellish gaze. "And Soji's legendary mastery of the spear having taken all this time to finally recover from such an ordeal...!" He had to work in Soji's weapon maintenance from earlier after all. "Truly, I am honored." Naturally a sheepish grin snuck out as he teased her, hopefully it would give all three of them a good laugh regardless. When Soji inquired further on her arrival to Hyrstmill, Jeris simply snapped a finger, pointing to Soji as he tilted his mug back for another drink, to indicate his support of the proposed question. He was rather enjoying this banter.

Jeris let out a hearty laugh, raising his mug to the three of them. "I'll have to watch myself a bit closer, nothing gets by you lot." Taking a drink of the fresh tankard, he couldn't help but grin at Linette's reaction. "An acquired taste dear, but one that has just as much personality as it's place of origin." Nodding to her. "You'll have to try some of the special brews in Ul'dah and Limsa Lominsa. Do yourself a favor once you pick a favorite, settle down wherever that may be, otherwise you'll have a life of longing, like being apart from your true love..." He starred out thoughtfully, and somewhat comically as his statement hung there a moment, before shrugging, and taking another drink. "-Or- perhaps I drink too much." He snickered into another sip from the tankard. "Linette here no doubt has a bit more claim to Ul'dah than I do. Jewel of the desert she may be, alas she was just the first place of note I happened upon. I, dear friends, like a stray myself..." He eyeballed the Miquo'te for another cat joke. "Am Jeris of....nowhere and everywhere? Whichever fits the story better I suppose." He nodded to Soji with a grin. "You've a point though....surely a man in bandages has better cause to leave whatever home he had than to be bludgeoned by strangers. I'm afraid I agree with Muin though, as my attention is often distracted by a pretty face..." He turned to Linette with a grin. "You've been nominated as storyteller dear, lets hear your best!" Setting his mug down he threw his hands into the air and exclaimed. "Overwhelm us with grandstanding! Never assume any detail is minor! Spin us an epic that would leave the twelve in awe!.........Ow." He lowered his arms with a grunt, rolling his shoulders a few times before sipping gingerly at his mug.

He couldn't help but laugh at the pun as well, or perhaps more directly, Linette's amusement itself. As one of the Canopy's attendants, a young Hyur woman with a fair complexion, short cut amber hair and a charming smile, swung by with a fluid grace that could only come from serving countless patrons, he handed off his empty mug with the expertise of someone served countless drinks. With a quick wink and a wry grin in thanks as she switched out the drinks, he took a moment to take gulp from the fresh mug before rejoining the conversation. "Drakes eh? My my, sounds exciting! The way I hear it, the Hedge can be an adventure in and of itself. I'll have to do a bit of exploring while I'm here. I happened by Airship myself and damn near slept the entire trip, something comforting about a ship, even if it's an airborne one." Taking another drink of his mug he nodded over to Linette. "I'd wager you're selling yourself a bit short, sweetheart." He gestures to Muin with a grin. "Nothing in life is boring, it's all a matter of how you tell it. I get the feeling Muin here could tell you that, if indeed it was your wit that held the crowd before and not the mysteriousness Soji here seems to project." With a quick laugh he added. "The twelve have blessed you three, I'm afraid I have to resort to extreme measures to be quite as interesting." Tilting his mug up once more as he flashed a grin. "Although if a suit of bandages yields such fine results, I'd say it's a small price to pay."

Jeris laughed and finished off his drink with a slight wince, reaching up to put a hand at his left shoulder, and taking a moment to rotate his arm around with a slight pop before returning to the conversation at hand. "Well then, the four of us find ourselves on similar paths it seems, albeit you all have somewhat of a head start." Grinning, he leaned forward, resting his arms on the table as he nods. "Well then Miss, beauty gets the burden of first word, if not Gridania then where abouts are you from? Now that I know all three of you are travelers as well, I can only assume Gridanian custom involves Wood Wailers and a great deal of bludgeoning." He cackled out a teasing laugh to a passing by wailer who had entered just as he made the comment. With an informal salute and a wink, the wailer barely paused in his step and continued towards Miounne without a second glance. Nodding to Muin and Soji he added, "Don't think you're off the hook either boys, these Drakes sound interesting, and a perfect lead in to another round." He raised a hand up to signal another round of drinks, wincing at the motion while turning his full attention to Linette. Multi-tasker this one is when it came to women and wine.

With Muin's introduction and Linette's slip of the tongue with introductions, process of elimination had done the job for Soji, and Jeris nodded politely to each in kind. "A blessing of the twelve to find friends so quick in a new town I'd say." Shifting in his seat with a slight wince, he brought the cup up to take another drink before addressing Muin's inquiry. "Ahh aye, the Arena in Ul'dah. No better way for a man to make his fame or test his mettle than a good honest fight for public entertainment." The laugh that followed his words left it a bit ambiguous if he truly believed what he said, or meant it as a joke of sorts. Either way the easy-going grin spread across his face never faltered as he continued. "A good number of the lads I've fought decided to make light of the early bits of grey that have taken root..." he brought a bandaged hand up to tap at his head. "It's in a young man's blood to be hot-headed and overconfident. After enough of them ended up face down in the sand of the Colosseum, they went from insulting this new Iron color, to swearing my veins ran with it. Plenty of fighters our there can best me in speed, I'm not arrogant in that regard, but I've not run across many who are tougher." He gestured to the three of them. "How about you lot though? Did I assume wrong when I took you for Gridanians? What's your tale?"

He couldn't help but laugh, raising his mug with a broad smile. "Well, I certainly hope so. If this were the result of clumsiness, I fear each day would have me at death's door for the most embarrassing of reasons." Taking another quick swig of his ale, he let out a breath of relief. Medicine and drink would do plenty to nurse an injury, but nothing washed pain away like the comfort of good company. "Gridanian Hospitality of another sort though. Your wood wailers here are rather skilled. I'm looking to do a bit of training with them." he gestured to himself with a bandaged hand and a wry grin. "I don't know what else they may think, but whatever I lack elsewhere, I try to make up for in determination." As the two Miquo'te approached the table, he raised his hand in a wave and a welcoming smile. "And you lot seem to know one another, so I'm afraid your friend here has obligated you both to sharing a drink as well." Flashing that wry grin once more, he gave a polite tip of his head, addressing all three. "Jeris Guillford. Back in the coliseum they call me 'the Iron Blooded.' A pleasure to make your acquaintances." Back in Ul'dah he has a smidgen of local fame to help spread his name around, but if he were looking to make a name for himself all over Eorzea, he'd have to do a biiiit of the propaganda himself.

He had caught sight of the crowd of folks dispersing, leaving the contrasting pair of Miquo'te behind, apparently the source of the attention. It's always nice to enjoy a good tale here and there, no pun intended. He brought his mug up with a warm smile and a polite nod as soon as the white haired Miquo'te glanced over, completely missing sight of the young lady who approached his table, her voice reaching out in greeting just as he had tipped his mug up, resulting in a quick draw of air, just as the liquid hit his lips. His response, came out in a half gurgle, partial choke and cough. Setting the mug down immediately and pressing his hand against his chest, coughing a few times with a wince, he gestured for her to take a seat. "HOOOOO" He wheezed out, taking a deep breath before following it up with a hearty laugh. "By all means, if Gridanian hospitality includes beautiful women joining me with this little effort, I may have to make this trip a permanent one." He slid a hand out to push the second mug of ale he had purchased over in her direction with a warm smile. "Looks like I was saving you a drink Miss. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

((Hey folks! Originally this thread's intent is to get reacquainted with some RP friends recently rediscovered that I've not had the pleasure of rping with for quite a while, but as I'm always eager to meet and rp with new people, if you'd like to cast your lot, by all means!)) "So let me get this straight, you came to Gridania to convince the Wood Wailers and Gods' Quiver to use you as a target dummy for their training regimen?" Mother Miounne couldn't help the amusement that curled the edge of her lips as she shot a level gaze to the silvery haired gentleman standing across the counter top to her. "Well...it sounds daft when you say it that way. Ahem..." He cleared his throat and took a breath, suppressing the laugh that came naturally to the absurdity of her claim. "I am offering myself as a training tool to help their brave and noble members perfect their skills while I ask for nothing in return. Any experience taking a strike or fending off another is a welcome experience." He flashed a quick grin while reaching over to grab the two mugs of whatever they had decided to give him when he simply asked for two mugs of the 'local special'. Miounne couldn't help the stifled laugh that slipped past her lithe fingers covering her lips. "You realize how hard it is to believe that looking the way you do?" Jeris Guillford gave a look of disbelief, teasing as it was. "I don't know what you mean. Clearly the wood wailers took me up on the offer." He lifted the mugs to her with a nod and a grin. "And folks say they can be unkind to outsiders!" Turning from the bar, he made his way to a nearby vacant table, sitting the mugs down and carefully easing himself into a chair. He wore a simple wool tunic, his armor carefully stored away in the room he had rented at the Carline Canopy, but from head to toe (wherever it was visible that is) he was covered in off-white linen bandages, all the way up to his jawline with a few strips about his brow and nose. The faint blue streak of a tattoo peaked out from the side of his cheek, with a faint grey hint of a beard beginning to take shape along his jawline. He was older than many of the adventurers he'd come across, but aside from the long silvery hair pulled into a ponytail and the hint of white hair filling in the recently shaved sides of his head that matched his 5 o'clock shadow, he held a distinguished youthfulness in his features. Not that any of that would stop the teasing from some of his peers back in Ul'dah. Far too many hot heads join the Gladiators with far too much confidence and a severe lack of tenacity to back it up. In fact, it was that unwavering tenacity that earned him the nick name 'the Iron Blooded.' His graying hair had been the source of many jokes at his expense, but it quickly became a symbol for just how tough he had been. After even the most furious assault, it was rare for him to be brought low, as if his very veins were made of iron. That was Ul'dah however. He'd gained that toughness by doing exactly what he hoped to do here with the Pugilists guild. It was an agonizing process but the punishment yielded results. It certainly needed it's recovery time however, and while he'd gotten the healing process to a science at this point, it was nothing miraculous and painless. With a grunt, he eased the mug up to his mouth to take a long few gulps, welcoming something to take the edge off the ache that permeated throughout his entire body. Wincing, he sat the mug down and took a deep breath. It didn't have the spice of a desert drink, but he could already feel a soothing tingle in the pitt of his stomach that sent a smile of relief across his face. "Gridania...." He thought to himself, casting his eyes about the tavern. "What sort of folk are in Gridania....?"

Alright, I've DEFINITELY got to get in on this. With having a multiple man tattoo, and an avid comic book fanatic myself, I can't believe I took this long to post on this topic! That being said, here we go! Like I said, I have that design on his shirt as a tattoo so it's kind of a default that he has to be a favorite. Ever since x-factor got it's reboot as a detective agency, I've loved Jamie Madrox. For those of you who don't know, he can create multiple duplicates of himself (hence the name multiple man, gasp!) who, hilariously so, sometimes exhibit the wrong personality for the situation. For example, in a street brawl in central park, he slaps out a dupe to help him out who only contributes by crying and wailing out "Why is everyone so violent!?" His personality though is what I love the most. He's not the most confident or talented leader, and he's always second guessing himself, but in the moments that he pulls through he's amazing. One scene that always sticks out is shortly after the M-day fiasco, Quicksilver takes refuge with x-factor and the x-men come to apprehend him. The whole x-factor team is up in arms after finding out the x-men had misled and lied to them about an earlier incident, and Jamie is late on the scene right when a fight is about to break out. He shows up just in time to take an optic blast from cyclops (weaker, meant to stun mind you) that was meant for his team-mate Siren, and the next panel just shows jamie with about 20 pissed off copies of himself calling out cyclops saying: "That all you got Scott? Come on, take another shot! Make fifty more of me, maybe a hundred! -EMPOWER me to kick your astonishing X-butts all over the street all by myself! My team-mates can pick up the pieces!" That takes guts to call out the "first stringers" like that. Another favorite is Cable http://static.comicvine.com/uploads/scale_super/4/48747/917852-cable.jpg[/img] Cable is the man. There's a period in the comics where he's so overpowered it's just madness. Mind you it doesn't last long but he has a conversation with Xavier half way around the world, hovering inside a cottage in the alps, with the entire cottage dismantled down to the screws in the desk he's at, just hovering there disjointed, while listening to the thoughts of like, half of europe. It got just nuts for a while there. That's not while I love him, (nor his giant guns which are always a plus) Cable's the guy from the future who keeps trying to save the past to make a better life for everyone than the one he suffered through. Everything that gets thrown at him, no matter how torn apart or beaten he is, he keeps picking himself up because he knows that he's the only one who can do what needs to be done no matter who becomes his enemy and no matter what hell he subjects himself to. Also, to touch back on the deadpool mention from earlier, I -adore- deadpool, and my favorite set of comics I've read to date has -still- been Cable and Deadpool. The two of them being as good friends as they are during that while being such opposite personalities has some of the most hilarious exchanges, and some oddly touching moments as well. If you haven't read it, I'd strongly suggest it, it's some of the best I've read on the marvel side that is. And finally! Starlord! El Capitan of the Guardians of the Galaxy. He's the man. The recent "reboot" gave him a bit more tangible clout than he had before (still getting used to that). He's another one of those "get the job done, screw the rest" type of characters, albeit with a bit more smart mouthed flare to him. I loved the old Star Lord because he had this huge weight of failure on his shoulders from all the sacrifices he had to make or was forced into making and he threw together a team to solve issues on the "end of the universe" level not the "end of the world" level. And it was a team that was seriously under powered in doing so, with some of the primary members being, basically a Treant in space, and a racoon with assault rifles and rocket launchers. That practically screams suicide mission for every crisis you try to solve. There is DEFINITELY aspects of these characters in Jeris (or will be with more rp opportunity hopefully!). I've had my hand at rping a myriad of characters, most of them turning out to be rather tragic in their own way. Jeris is something I can't wait to flesh out more and to put more pen to paper as it were with a character who fails, who has failed, and will continue to fail, but each and every time he'll grit his teeth and pick himself up even if it means he'll keep failing over and over again. There's that stubborn, maybe arrogant determination that always leaves me in awe when it fits the moment just right. There's a few more of course, but I think my post is big enough >.> -cough-

"Cactaur's Spittle" got it's name from a joke between Heath and his brother when they originally put down roots and built the tavern. Nothing more than a shack at the time, the two would joke to any caravans on their way to Ul'dah that the only drink they would find past that point would be Cactaur Spittle. A blatant lie, and any seasoned traveler along the trade route knew it to be so, nevertheless, those who could appreciate the humor would indulge the pair, until years later, it became it's own fully fledged trading post. Albeit small in comparison to most of the others, Heath, the surviving brother, was pleased with how things had turned out over the years more or less. Traders became regulars, and the few local personalities who opted for a life in the wilderness as opposed to the city became a great boon for pelts and the more exotic of herbs that were too far off the beaten path for any passing caravan to lay claim to. One of those locals happened to be the large, muscular fellow that stumbled somewhat unevenly into the tavern, a hand clutching the side of his face, his black and white peppered hair in a mess, and his unruly beard matted with blood and dust. A fresh split across his lips was obvious, and one could assume his hand held another injury, his face matching the visible portions of his arms and chest underneath his tunic, battered and bruised. He barely mustered a grunt before staggering to the side and practically falling into a vacant chair at a corner table, tossing his hand up for an drink ever so briefly. "Jeris?" Heath paused his absentminded polish of the bar, his eyes wide. "Gods, what happened to you?" Jeris, for what it's worth, opened his mouth to try and speak, but he only managed half a raspy grunt before bringing his other hand up to cover the split which had begun to bleed once more with the effort. Heath winced, and turned to grab a bottle of the more potent drink he had, along with a mug of ale and a fresh rag tossed over his arm. Quickly he crossed the mostly empty tavern to sit opposite the battered man, sliding the ale over and splashing some of the stouter drink on the rag before handing it over. Jeris nodded in thanks and began to wipe and dab at the cut along his lip in between a gulp or two of ale in an effort to clean himself up. Heath nearly kicked himself for taking this long to realize it, but he immediately went to the door, swinging it wide and taking a look around for another familiar face. With nothing to show for his efforts, he immediately ducked back inside and sat opposite to Jeris once more, leaning forward in almost a conspiratory manner. Jeris was never alone. "Jeris. What happened? Where's your boy? What happened to Jaykob?" At the mention of his son Jeris paused in his efforts. Taking a deep breath, he pulled his hand back from the side of his face, revealing a large cut across his cheek, and winced, beginning work on it with the rag. "The boy is fine." His voice was even, almost regretful actually. "...he's the one who did this to me." Heath leaned back against the chair with a dumbfounded look on his face. Jaykob did that to Jeris? He knew Jeris had to have been training him to take care of himself, but the boy barely had half the father's muscle. Even discounting that, the two of them were always together, aside from a few rebellious streaks that every boy had, they always seemed to get along famously, even if Jeris was a bit smothering with the way he tried to look out for him, but with everything that had happened in the past five years, it was understandable. "I...Jeris, I don't understand..." Jeris took a deep breath, wincing a little as he felt an ache along his ribs, still dabbing at the wound alongside his face. "He left." He reached out and took a hold of the ale and drew it up, tilting his head back, nearly downing over half the mug in one go before setting it down and letting his gaze rest on the rim for a moment. "We had it out. Usual arguments. He was wanting to charge off into gods only knows what, and I wouldn't let him, told him the world was too dangerous to shove off like that. The same argument for the hundredth time. Every time it came down to blows, and every time I'd knock him down until he gave in, and things would go back to normal for a bit." He hesitated for a moment before tapping the side of the mug. "....funny thing, he wasn't the one to go down this time." Heath took everything in quietly until Jeris tapped the mug, at which point he rose and made his way over to the bar to swap it out with a fresh drink. He'd clear the tab later, the man was as beaten on the inside as he was on the out. Returning with a fresh mug, he sat it down just as Jeris finished the last of the cleanup. He was rough, that was for sure. Those cuts would leave scars and it'd be weeks before the bruises all over his face dissipated without any sort of magical assistance. "Jeris....you couldn't keep him out of the world forever, you know that right? More importantly, the world wouldn't let you. Better he goes into it on his own terms than to have it crashing down on top of him, aye?" Jeris took a deep breath, nodding a thanks for the fresh mug and gulped down another drink. "You have kids of your own Heath? All these years and I never asked, forgive me." Heath laughed and waved it off, taking the soiled rag from Jeris' side. Heath was slightly older than Jeris, but hadn't begun to lose the color in his hair quite yet, giving him a deceptively youthful appearance. "Two girls. A little older than Jaykob, one in Ul'dah and another in Limsa." He paused for a moment. "And a son...lost five years ago." Jeris paused, finally looking up to meet Heath's smiling face, having difficulty understanding how he could have coped with something like that. "Any regrets?" Heath laughed once more but gave a nod. "Oh aye, a lifetime of them, but not with my children. The girls are happy enough, and my boy......well.." He grew solemn for the briefest of moments before adding. "The world crashed in on him, but he lived happily. You can't fight the world for em you know? Whatever's out there they have to fight it themselves." He gestured to Jeris' injuries with a wry grin. "In fact, looks like he may have a better chance than you do." Jeris grunted a laugh, lifting up the mug to his lips and letting his gaze meet Heath's own. Compared to him, Heath was a twig of a man, there would be no contest between the two in a match up, yet what Jeris saw humbled him...and put into perspective how laughable his entire situation was. A situation he had practically engineered himself. His grunt turned into a chuckle, then a full on laugh, which caused him to wince and lean forward a bit, tucking an arm in to wrap around his aching stomach. Heath of course, could only laugh in response, reaching a hand out to Jeris' shoulder in an effort to steady him. "Aye well....I suppose I had this coming." His chuckles began to die down and he gave a shake of his head. "It's my own damn fault you know. When he was growing up, all I did was tell him all these ridiculous tall tales about how his old man was a valiant knight saving everyone he came across, battling scores of pirates and bandits, and slaying monsters." He took another drink of the ale and murmured. "Imagine his disappointment when he was old enough to know better." Heath gave a faint smile. "It's not your fault Jeris, every father wants to be idolized by their son." Jeris laughed a bit and gave a shake of his head. "You know what the last thing I remember the smug pup say before I blacked out?.....'I'm leaving, because Eorzea needs the kind of man I always thought you were.'...." Heath gave a sad smile and let his gaze fall down a moment. Jeris had made his own bed so to speak, but he could easily imagine himself in his friend's shoes, and he felt the sting of the words as if they came from his own son. Jeris slapped the table and took a deep breath, startling Heath. "Well, only one thing to do then." He reached into his pocket and took out a small pouch of gil, more than enough to cover his two drinks. "I can't sit on my arse in the desert all day. Word is Eorzea needs itself a monster slaying, bandit hunting, savior of the innocent." He winced a grin to Heath who could only blink in surprise at the sudden turn around in behavior. "It's a father's job to make sure his son surpasses him. At the moment, that arrogant whelp won't have to do much and I can't have that." As he rose up from his chair, Heath followed suit, somewhat flabbergasted. "W-wait, hang on a moment Jeris, you need to get looked at! What exactly do you think you're doing?" Jeris clasped a hand on Heath's shoulder and flashed a grin, immediately followed by a wince. "Why, to become a better man than what my son always thought I was. Thanks for the drink and talk Heath. Imagine the business you'll get when folks hear one of Eorzea's greatest heroes Jeris Guillford came from the Cactaur's Spittle?" With a cackle, he gave Heath a quick slap across the shoulder and turned to saunter out the door and into the wide world in desperate need of saving. Saunter is pretty gracious, it was still more like a stagger only with a bit more style. Heath stood dumbfounded in the tavern for a few moments, blinking at the empty space his friend had just occupied before inquiring to himself. "...Guillford? What was wrong with Blackstone?"

Can't wait to RP with you guys again! It was a blast in TSW and I've even higher hopes for FFXIV. I'll get my character info put together soon and shoot it ya'll's way!

I've just gotten into the point now where it's starting to really flesh out the characters and show alot of the backstory that's led everything to where it was and while at first I was a little frustrated (i'm sorry but lightning is a gigantic a-hole. lmao, and Hope was really starting to bug me about his thing with snow......although I might just be a snow fanboy now that I think about it..>.>) it's got to the point where the very characters I was getting frustrated with are comming into there own and starting to become my favorites. Which I totally wasn't expecting, so Kudos to you FFXIII! Although I will agree that the camera is a little wonky and I have died more in this Final fantasy than I have in any other. LoL so I feel you about the battle thing. I'm starting to get the hang of it now but even still!

Just spent all night (well like 3 hours then I had to get some sleep for work today) playing FFXIII and I'm really really enjoying it so far. Visually it's absolutely incredible, from the cutsenes to the combat everything looks amazing. The combat itself is definately something I'm having to get used to but the fast-paced nature of it makes it alot more dynamic and exciting than some of the classic styles have been just from a controlling standpoint. Even got me a bit frantic in some fights! Hehehe. Like I said I'm really enjoying it so far, and I'm definately looking forward to everyone else's opinion as well.

We just like to talk. We're fabulous linguists!