Varov

I popped my case open and found that the heat damage on my heatsink around the CPU was so bad... So I rebuilt the computer a little bit. My monitor doesn't support the Hi-Res size, so I ran it on low rez and I got 2971. Which is so stupid. God, they really need to cut the windowed mode out. SPECS: NVidia GeForce 8800 GTX 768mb Intel Core i7 (Six Core, Phantoms 8 cores) [email protected] 6GB Triple Channel DDR3 Ram

Gary Oldman. I jest. Lets see... Whiskeyjack should be played by the Roegadyn version of Mickey Rourke. See below.. Whiskeyjack... ...will whip your ass. And my other major character, Amistad von Praeda. He should be played by a taller version of James Caan with pointy ears. Amistad... ...is devouring your soul and color.

Thank's for the compliments on Whiskeyjack. I can't wait to get a chance to flesh out Amistad - he's a real fun character I've put together. I tend to put serious characters together with wacky NPC's, so I'll be using his two "assistants," Ignis and Lindovo, as comic relief. Basically, those two are akin to a few mafioso - a big one who says little and hits big, often slamming a pun in, and the short, wily guy who talks way too much. Anyway, I pulled out of First Day, and will be creating a story thread this week.

Having had his fill of the bar, he nodded to everyone and walked out, surprisingly, quietly.

MEMORIES! All alone in the Crystal Light! that is all.

Whiskeyjack takes out his pocketwatch. "About five minutes ago. Here's yer signin' bonus." He reaches down at his belt and counts gil into a small bag, handing it over. "1,000 gil ta start should help with any business closin' you need t'do. Meet me in front'a this Inn t'morrow at dawn, eh?" He winks and moves back towards the table. "Ole Whiskeyjack needs ta take his leave." Before leaving he points at Oryn. "Listen kid, I'm gonna need you on my staff t'morrow. If ya want the job offer as we discussed before, show up in front'a this tavern at dawn. I'm movin' a big shipment outwards to Ul'dah an' I need a legal representative for me exports. If yer in, let me know." He smiles and nods, waiting and looking around the table in case anyone had questions before he left.

He gave Orra a wry grin. "How few a thousand? Let's say... 25,000 a year with commission an' special pay fer dangerous missions. I'll toss in free acquisitions from tha export company once monthly. How it sound?"

A new video card and processor could buy 2 PS3's, no doubt. I'll likely wait a little while and get the game for PS3 and fold in, buy the system. It's only like 300 dollars now, right?

Whiskeyjack looks at the Elezen girl with his mouth wide open. He affixes his jaw back into the appropriate spot and finally speaks. "Well. Ye' certainly do know yer way. Hell, I was plannin' on jus' giving you some security job an payin' ya meager wages. Tell ya what... I need a spotter with yer eyes. I don't need ya fer hawkin' goods though, I need ya fer me exports business. I'll toss a few thousand gil a year in for ya, working as my personal bodygirl. You in, kiddo?" He asked, offering her a smile.

So, with that... I've decided to apply to start a guild Aetheryte Holdings LTD - it's actually an idea I was tossing around and when I saw that Company idea in the interview, I've decided to go with it. Hopefully I get approved!

I have a desktop that should easily run around 2000-3500. It's about 4 years old, but 4 years ago it was 2 years ahead of its time. I think I'll probably get a new processor - got an AMD 64 Athalon. Need to get a 64 bit proc though. I'm running an NVIDIA 8800 512mb GPU. Might get another one since Ive got an SLI motherboard. Need to open this thing up and clean it real good and probably invest in another fan.

He nodded and followed Orra along as she pulled him away from the table. "Listen kid, I thinks ya got what it takes. Ya work a crowd well, an' ye got a talented eye. What says you? Want a job?" He smiled as he followed the Elezen girl, nodding back to the table.

He peered over the woman casually, seemingly uninterested in whatever she was selling. "Two-Patch Whiskeyjack. If'n ye want'a know more, I suggest ye ask anyone else 'round here what I do." He gave her a terse smile. "However... I'll tell ya this! One time, I got meself inna' fight with this giant bird. Bugger pecked me eye out, then I punched it, aye? Took me eye back, shoved it back in, an' tha damn bird came back fer more. Took me eye a second time, ate it... so, I tossed a rock at the bastard, grabbed it as it fell, an ate it. Then, I found an eye patch, realized it didn't cover me whole eye, so I got another. Hence, Two-Patch. G'day." He winked and walked back towards the table Orry sat at. He put a hand on her shoulder. "So tell me, Orry... ye' think about me job offer?" He smiled, settling a hand on her shoulder.

He nodded and looked back towards the table, affording "doc" a quick glance, then he looked back to Yecely. "Well everyone, if'n ye'll excuse me..." He followed the woman over to the table and glanced at all of the journalistic detritus littering the space. "What'll it be, missy?"

He looked up at Ora, then fished around his pockets. He handed the girl enough gil to buy a round for the table. "Whiskey, please." He turned around to face her, his back to the others, then spoke quietly. "You say you got skills, eh? Give me a perimeter sweep of the bar, let me know who looks fishy, who looks like potential business, etcetera. Get yerself somethin' ta drink an' eat on me." He turned back to Myra and the others. "Now... where were we!" And smiled.

The Sea Wolf chortles in Myra's face. "Who says you were the kind'a brainiac what I needed, eh? Yer a teacher, aye? I've no use fer teachin' anyone anythin' really... I need a trade representative." He thumbs over at Yecely. "Overheard bits an' pieces of conversation... what about feminism an' all that. She seems a more effective communicator." He leans in towards Myra and whispers, "Oh, and lassy... lot'a that dribble don't work on the smart men. If'n yer plan is to keep men away, wear plain clothes and carry a weapon. Men, 'specially Hyur men, are largely a bunch'a sissies - challenge their physical authority an' ye got em by the fruit, amIright?" He gave her a wink and backed up, looking towards the other two Elezen at the table. "So, what's yer names? I'm Two-Patch Whiskeyjack!" He boasts.

He shook the Elezen girl's hand, giving a surprisingly light handshake as if he had held back, but only enough so that it didn't hurt her. "Rijac Faren, more commonly known as Whiskeyjack. Obviously, I'm inna business of sales, but I also run Two-Patch Exports, Limited - devoted ta bringin' rare products outta' town and to folks all over tha place. Ul'Dah, Gridania, etcetera." He puts his heavy palm on the Elezen's upper back, quite literally covering her upper back, and walks her over towards Myra's table. "Looky here! More seats!" He sits down and looks at the scholarly Hyur. "Pleased'a meet ya, missy. Names Two-Patch Whiskeyjack. Yers?" He smiles, glancing back down at Ora, "Oh! An Orry, I'm lookin' fer someone t'help with security operations, trade relations, an legal consulting. Already found me a lawyer, now I needs a brainiac, an' with luck, ye'll take my security position."

"Orchestraterin'! Why, by the Twelve and then some! I could use people with that kind'a talent, kiddo. You workin' for anybody right now? I happen to be in need of a lawyer an' a lieutenant of sorts, ya see? Someone ta' help manage things." The Sea Wolf smiled at the young woman. His eyes diverted to the different happenings about the room, noticing the hyur women sitting nervously at a table behind him a ways. "Tell ya what... Why doesn't we get up, an give those two ladies back there company?"

He listened to the Hyur, then went from smiling, to straight faced, to smiling again. "HAH! A Hyur after me own blood. By 'Leave me alone in Aetherial bliss,' I'll bet you meant, 'I want a job, Two-Patch!'" The large Sea-Wolf let out a boisterous guffaw, slapping the small man on his shoulder. He quietly reached down to his side and pulled a small slip of paper, a goods voucher worth nearly 2,500 gil, signing it before sliding it across the table. "Ol' Whiskeyjack knows talent when what he sees it, aye? Yer young, smart, and know the law. Most importantly, ye probably have license to practice it. That voucher, call it a signin' bonus, should be good down Hawker's Alley. Use it at some of the book shops what're set up there, eh? I ain't a lawyer... I am a notary... but I AIN'T a lawyer. I need one. Go buy you some books an' come back, let me know if yer in it to win it, son. If'n I don't hire you, I'll have to finish all o' my trials by COMBAT!" With that, the Sea Wolf stands up and launches a massive uppercut into the air - the sort that makes you want to shout SHORYUKEN, though you don't know why. He then messes up the young man's hair, and looks around the bar. "Thal's balls on a stick! Ain't it just a mess of people around here today! Who's the lucky lad or lass what gets my company next..." He rubs his hands together, seeing a few of the locals roll their eyes and go back to their usual work. It's clear that he uses the new adventurers coming in and out of the tavern to scout for talent. He begins to methodically move past a few of the tables, hawk-eye spotting a few interesting folk. He looks at the nervous Elezen woman who just conversed with the lalafel business woman. "Nope. Yer spoken for, lassy. If'n you want better rates, Two-Patch Exports could always use some alchemists." He keeps walking towards the bar. "Ah, here we go!" He takes a seat at the bar where, moments before, a Lalafel departed from the bar - leaving a slouched Elezen woman sitting by her lonesome. He leans his massive frame onto the bar and then eyes Orry up and down, "Well, normally ye pointy-eared folk drink yer beer with a pinky out. Here you are, slouched over, lookin' like you ain't eaten in a few days. What's yer talents, kiddo?"

The Sea Wolf eyed up the room, noticing the Hyur slip past him towards a table. The Sea Wolf stood, grabbed the heavy crate with his hand, and swung over to Oryn's table. He slammed the crate down loud enough for the young hyur to hear him and then shouted. "The Art of Legal Debate! By the Twelve and all their various unmentionable bits! Wha're you botherin' with tha' for, when you can make a FINE purchase on one of honest Two-Patches weapons! Think of the opportunity!" He slams his massive fist into the table, rocking it a bit. "Don't battle for legal gains, finish your arguments with a Trial by COMBAT! With a Whiskeyjack's House of Crappe blade!" He moved to try and snatch the book from the wry Hyur. "And besides! If this is edition 12, you're readin' old shite anyway. Everybody knows tha' the proper way to defeat an opponent is t'find their logical fallacies and relate them t'the context of the argued text! Ya' fool of a Hyur. Jes' bring up argumentum ad verecundiam, an' you've got just about anyones arse inna sling."

A large Sea Wolf Roegadyn could be seen ponderously hauling a large cart across the bridges of Limsa Lominsa, the signage of which indicated that this was the ever-famous Whiskeyjack's House of Crappe. He eventually finds his way towards the Drowning Wench tavern, setting his cart down in front with a loud thud. He looks around, most of the people not even regarding the sight, a few of the newer recruits staring at the man's cart. "Hey kid, you gonna oggle me all day or buy somethin'?" he says, the man looking at him, and then moving away from the cart. "Llymlaen's tit! It's like nobody never seen a man cartin' a cart around before." The hulking figure made his way into the bar about as loudly and without grace as possible for a nearly 300 pound wall of muscle and ugly. He shouted across the bar to one of the barmaids, "Hey! Tell Tenfingers that Two-Patch wanted to see 'im. Oh, and get me a beer!" The woman rolled her eyes and walked into the back of the inn. The obnoxious Roegadyn found himself a crate and slammed it down next to a table. He took a seat on the crate and glanced around the room - sizing up his future customers. Upon closer inspection, one would notice of this Roegadyn that he had two eyepatches over his right eye.

Living in any part of New Jersey is like being stuck in an Early 90's Tarantino movie. In fact, it's alot like any and all Kevin Smith films ever. The QuickStop is 20 minutes up route 18 from my house >>

Most likely Limsa Lominsa. I must say though, I'll likely start another character in Ul'dah because it's just so awesome

THIGHS! Hey, it's Rihan. Whats up

Oh heavens no. We just take it out back with the .22 like Old Yeller.