Naunet

Considering we down t4 every week well before the soft enrage aoe even begins, I think our strat is just fine! ^^;

I'll stick to things that might be reasonable to expect of them with the next patch... - transparency slider for the chat box - let me adjust the transparency for the chat box - the chat box background must needs be adjustable in transparency - a way to darken the chat box background - a slider to increase or decrease the transparency of the chat box - a feature in the chat configuration to alter chat box transparency - more hairstyle and clothing options

Mmm butt.

Awww. In the context of that RP especially... so sad! D: *hugs Tahj*

Who says they evolved from a predatory feline? If Titan is to be believed, we're all "sons of Man". ... Oh god, I didn't want to post in this thread again. Someone stop me. ;

((Thanks for the sticky! Celebratory snippet.)) *** "I can't wear that - it's far too expensive!" ... "No, Ulanan, I can't possibly expect you to--oh here, what about this?" ... "Don't look at me like that. It's... simple. The purple is alright, isn't it...? Not too tacky? It's not as though I need to dress for a party or something. Aah, in fact, no. No, no, no. I don't need this at all. Really, the clothes D'hein has lent me are more than enough." ... "... is it that bad? The smell?" ... "I... well... Oh alright. But I refuse anything more than this! And I'll... make certain to repay you. As soon as I find employment again..." ... "I know, I know. I just... want to lead a good example for Airos and..." A sigh. "Alright, I'm ready." ... "I do hope she returns soon."

((Not long after this post...)) *** Illira Carceri sat by herself at the edge of the quicksand, a mug of something in front of her, that she didn’t actually seem to be drinking from at the moment. Though it must have been fascinating, as she was just kind of staring off into the distance at it. Across the room, the elder Antimony wove her way through the Quicksand, her path intending to take her towards the back, where the rented rooms were kept. She paused, however, upon catching sight of a familiar face and looked almost immediately flustered. She fidgeted in place for several seconds before forcibly turning and walking stiffly towards the red-clad elezen. Unnoticed by her, a lalafell dressed in all in white and an over-sized had sneakily moved to stand behind Antimony as if she had been there the whole time. Antimony worried her hands together before stopping a good three or so steps behind Illira and uneasily clearing her throat. The elezen had just lifted her hand, as if to grasp the mug in front of her, when she heard a noise from behind. Slowly turning her head towards interruption, she asked, "What?" in a tired, almost frustrated voice. Antimony flinched, looked away to one side with a sort of 'hide me' expression, though she quickly tried to mask it. "Ahm, excuse me, Miss... Carceri," she ventured in as small and humble a voice as she could manage. "It's just, I wanted to... well.." Antimony Jhanhi flinches, lookes away to one side with a sort of 'hide me' expression, though she quickly tries to mask it. "Ahm, excuse me, Miss... Carceri," she ventures in as small and humble a voice as she can manage. "It's just, I wanted to... well.." Ulanan just stood there at her side, like a tiny mean bodyguard. Illira was finally able to see Antimony, frowning when she recognized the woman, "You wanted to what? Apologize for D'hein perhaps?" “Er. Well. Perhaps... That is to say--well... No! He can apologize for himself!” Illira scoffed at that, "As if he would ever admit fault in himself." Antimony frowned and huffed a bit before seemingly remembering herself and ducking her head, finishing with, "For everything else, I suppose. I did not intend to give you the impression that I was... trying to win his... approval or--well, anything!" “And yet his transgressions against you have been all but forgotten.” Illira shook her head, "You so easily forget the past, it seems." Antimony blanched. "That--it's not quite so simple as--Of course they haven't--" For a moment, she looked as though she was about to just break apart, her ears and tail quivering, and then she burst out, "How else am I to react when he returns me to my daughter!" “I see you are not a big proponent of forgiveness, Miss Carceri.” Antimony startled, nearly jumping clear off the Quicksand's floor at Ulanan's voice. Turning to blink at the lalafell, her ears drooped. “It is not a matter of forgiveness. So the man manipulated his way into your life by using your daughters. The fact that you have found them again does necessitate that his motivations or past deeds are wiped clean.” Illira rolled her eyes at the appearance of the lalafell. “Using my—“ Antimony's brow knitted together, tail writhing. "You don't understand," she mumbled. Ulanan made a very rude noise with her tongue. "What would you have him do, then? Keep that information for himself and leave Antimony to believe they were dead?" “Oh, I believe I understand well enough. D'hein could have told you of their existence long ago, but did he? No. He made unwelcome intrusions on your personal life that are well documented and arranged your meeting to happen in a manner that he saw to best fit his own needs.” Antimony frowned suddenly and repeated a bit firmer, "No, you don't understand. You've never lost--" She caught herself, sighed, looked away. "You're making assumptions that are just... just.. entirely unfair!" Illira turned back to the table, placing her hand around her mug, "Your sight is merely clouded on this matter. I'm sure that would find fault in my own anger with him this morning." Ulanan found something funny, contrary to Antimony, and smirked at the Elezen. "You are wrong. He did tell her before, but when she did not believe him, he set off to 'arrange' it the way he did." Antimony flinched at Ulanan's words, wringing her hands. Still, she replied to Illira, exclaiming, "Clouded! I... have done nothing with him aside from a thank you! Which... he's cared for my baby girls." Her expression pleaded at the back of Illira's head, though the elezen couldn’t see it. “Excuse me, is this seat taken? Piggy! off the table!” Illira brought the mug rim against her thin lips, but before she could take a drink she lookd up at the man speaking to her, "Not in the strictest sense, no.", she says, glancing back briefly to the individuals behind her. The hyur man, hair greyed but features broad and well planed, smiled as he nodded, and took a seat, dismissing his pig "Many thanks... Fighting Earth Elementals take a lot out of someone" Ulanan looked up at Antimony, a slight air of confusion covering her expression. "Why are you seeking this woman's understanding?" “I’m Kram'eos... but everyone calls me Kram... I’m a Amature Pugilist... once a Thau-Thuma.... a Spell Slinger...” Antimony looked up past Illira, to the unfamiliar hyur, then down at Ulanan when the lalafell speaks. She just sighed and looked a bit helpless. The man named Kram’eos sighed as he leaned back in his chair, and relaxed, feeling much relief on his feet, as he slipped his shoes off under the table. Illira took that drink that was interrupted, "Hrmm. That all sounds quite impressive, I'm sure." She said off-handedly Kram'eos. She looked back at the miqo'te and the lalafell, "What did you want from me in the first place? You never did say." Kram'eos grimaced at the inadvertent dismissal of doing smalltalk... wasn’t trying to impress of course, but decided to get up and find another seat, feeling unwelcomed. Antimony startled and looked back to Illira. "I didn't? I did--did I... ah..." Her ears laid back against her skull, shoulders slumping. "Apologies. I shouldn't have bothered you." “I think I'll agree with that,” Ulanan nodded. “You don't need to apologize. I should probably be doing so to you. I am... aware, that my behavior this morning was likely a bit over-heated.” Antimony grimaced and waved her hands back and forth. "No, no, it's--well, I mean, it was rather uncalled fo--ah, that's not what I mean! Just... oh, dear. You don't have to apologize to me." “You can speak you're mind. I'm not a delicate flower, and you do not work for me anymore.” Ulanan jokingly said: "We understand that you are a mean person with a black stone for a heart. And we forgive you for that." At that, Antimony made as though to speak, but she just managed a faint sound, looking mortified. Illira clenched her jaw, "And you are just as bad as the rest of your kind. I wish a sandworm would swallow up all this damn city." She turned back away and takes a drag from her mug. “Ah--Ulanan surely didn't--she was just joking, I'm certain..!” “Oh, I quite certain that she isn't joking.” “Aren't you pleased that we presented our perceptions plainly? I purport it was pleasant!” Ulanan spoke up, adding a smile to those words. “Are you two merely going to stand there all night? I have made my own opinion on the topic of D'hein Tia, quite clear. I am sorry that I dragged you into the middle of our personal quarrel Antimony, but I simply could not hold my tongue any longer. There is nothing more to say on the matter.” Antimony's hands flexed in mid-air as though lost. "I..." she squeaked and faded off, ears shivering. Then suddenly, "I am terribly sorry for whatever I have done to upset you, Miss Carceri! I swear it was no intention of mine, nor of--of Ulanan's, and I wish you no ill will and I am sorry D'hein has done—something even though I'm not sure what but all I know is that my baby girls are alive and you have no idea how much that means I just can hardly--hardly stand it!" Ulanan raised one hand. "I want to amend something. It was my intention to upset you." Antimony exclaimed with dismay, "Ulanan!" “I am simply being honest!” the lalafell shrugged. Illira pursed her lips, "D'hein has apparently decided that meddling in others’ lives is a good thing. You can embrace your daughters; I do not begrudge you that. But I would highly suggest that you do not continue cozying up to him. His tactics and mindset are not so different than that of the Syndicate members of Ul'dah." Antimony winced at that and mumbled, "I... will keep that in mind." Ulanan looked to Antimony. "And with this settled, we should find you some clothes so you can stop flattering him just by walking in the clothes he gave you." Antimony flushed. "That--my other--it was better than--ah... yes.." Illira took another drink, her brow scrunching at that, "Clothes? And you think that he doesn't want something in return?" Antimony looked to one side and admitted lowly and with clear embarrassment, "You did not see what I was wearing before." “Yes, I did. Better that than taking in his favour.” Ulanan gestured in annoyance, “That's terrible! A layer of dirt is not better than clean clothes. Though it is better than linen...but I digress.” Antimony just kind of wilted under Illira's words and mumbled, "I am sorry. I should go." “I am not keeping you here,” the elezen replied flatly. Ulanan turned to leave. "I'm sure that if we hurry we can get something out of the Weaver's Guild." Antimony wavered a moment longer before turning to follow Ulanan, though she didn’t look pleased with the result of the encounter.

People need to chill out and probably get back on topic. >_> I'm still with the person earlier in the thread who thinks SE has painted themselves into a corner with how they've designed the class-->job flow system. IMO, the whole concept of class vs job needs to be scrapped. Doesn't mean you have to remove the differences thematically as you level, but it would be a lot easier on SE if they could change abilities within a class for the to-be two specialties. The current system is a relic of 1.0 and as much as people might cling to it for novelty, it's unnecessarily unweildly and restrictive when it comes to design.

He would need to get a new mask soon. He could tell by the way the forest rumbled almost imperceptibly beneath his bare feet. The trees seemed somehow closer together than usual, looming in their great heights, and if he were in a more playful mood (okay, even if he wasn't), he'd swear the knots in their bark were eyes glaring down at him. The seedling beneath his hands shivered despite the gloves acting as a barrier between it and his skin. The miqo'te who had once introduced himself as Thal grumbled, and somehow managed to still sound rather jovial when he spoke to the plant, "Y'know, maybe if you were a bit more hospitable, it wouldn't come to this. Ever think of that, huh?" The leaves in his gloved hands shriveled, went dry and brown as though a sudden winter had struck them, and the forest above him let out a moan. The man tapped his mask and chuckled at the sound, though his tail whipped back and forth agitatedly. "Alright, alright, I'll leave this little guy alone. Yeesh! Picky elementals, eh?" The blank expression of his wooden mask stared at the seedling for a moment longer before he patted it like one would pat a child. Then he moved on, stepping further into the forest, leaves crunching under his broad feet. He could feel his spine - really feel his spine - and that definitely wasn't a good thing. So he'd just have to get more. *** In some ways, it was not so very different this Black Shroud, as she had learned the mass forest to be called not so very long ago, and certainly sometime after having already walked into through its midst and into Gridinia. She had certainly found her way back into it after an uncomfortable few days in the city itself. An outsider by her very nature, Cypress found herself at less than ease amidst its residents, many of whom liked to stare at her with accusations hidden behind scant glances. They locked their information and wealth of experience of the uncontrollable forces that they lived amongst behind lips that may sa well have been stitched together. At least outside the Ul'dahn walls she had been free to observe and fade into the background out of notice. So she ventured back out into the woods, perhaps sometime among its mysterious forces would guide her along her path. That was two days ago that she had begun to walk the unbroken greeny surrounding her. ... Except it wasn't so green here. There was a hiccup in the unending maze of undergrowth and fog. There was but a small smattering of brown and shriveling plants, forming a faint but evident path. She tread after it, as everything happens for a reason, especially in this place that you could lose yourself in so easily. The miqo'te had paused after a short distance, bending down to inspect a low-lying shrub covered in small, red fruits. Though his mask remained as expressionless as ever, he let out a low, pleasant chuckle, plucking one of the fruits and popping it in his mouth with one hand while the other brushed across the shrub's green branches as though he were petting an animal. "Hey, not bad! Think I'll take some of these back with me," as he spoke he began to do just that, picking the small fruits with one hand and setting them in a pile between his feet. After a moment he paused, rubbing at his back. The Shroud above him was a palpable pressure, and his tail unconsciously prickled as the feeling intensified. The flat, jagged leaves he'd been running his other, gloved hand through dried and twisted, a warmth traveling through the thick leather into the palms of his hands before expanding out up his arms. Cypress's red tones stood out from her present environment like a lighthouse throwing its light out onto the seas during a dark night. As she followed the path of brown splotches, it was perhaps right that she did so, for whatever had made it belonged here even less than the Roegadyn. After a while, she stopped in the track, a tailed figure ahead of her pausing, rubbing at his back. Daylight snuck through the wooded growth, almost blinding in its effect, so she stepped forward to garner a better look. Footsteps heavy as one of her her tall, heavy frame moved through the brush. The miqo'te who certainly could not actually be Thal paused his scratching of his back, one ear twitching back at a sound behind him. He breathed in deep, but the Shroud - and the obstruction of the mask - made catching individual scents difficult. Still, it didn't smell like those demons of the Shroud, and the forest wasn't yelling at him, so he had to assume it wasn't deadly. These positive thoughts in mind, the masked man stood, a few of the red fruits in hand and turned around. As he moved, his voice was already working, a friendly, loose tone, "Hey there, visitor! How can I--oh hey!" He let out a brief laugh of surprise, the sound a bit hollow from behind the mask, and held out the hand holding the fruit in his palm. "Fancy running into you here, my red friend. Berry?" As the masked man acknowledges, even recognizing her visage, Burned Cypress watches the man from a few feet away, not approaching him to take the offered berries. "No. I require little." She smiles briefly, before looking away from him and to the plant growth underneath for signs of a continued trail. "It is not such a terrible surprise to find you here. I have wandered far enough, certainly." The masked miqo'te shrugged and popped a couple of the berries into his mouth. As he chewed, his ears swiveled, listening idly to the forest. "What's that supposed to mean?" He said around the berries, swallowing them a moment later. "I mean, it surprised me! But then, Twelve know I'm not psychic. Heh." "Far stranger things have happened, I assure you." Cypress looks downward, then bends over to pluck a dried leaf, dead as it was. "And you left a trail," she rights herself, twirling the stem between fingers. Looking up at the man in the mask after a long moment. "Hm?" He leaned somewhat to follow her actions, tail swishing curiously. Then he let out a short laugh. "Heh, well would ya look at that! Funny." The woman's smooth brow tightened further as she lost herself in thought, "I'm not entirely certain of what's funny." "Uhm. Weeeell..." His ears splayed out, demonstrating the mild confusion his mask could not. The hand not still holding berries scratched behind one, though the action was awkward with the gloves. Then he swung his arms out to either side of him, body swaying with the movement. "Y'know! A trail? What, you saying I've got big feet or something?" She lets out a breath through her nose, the sound audible. Makings of an amused expression crossing over her face, "Not compared to me, you do not. But you do not see what the trail is?" She moves to the side and gesture from whence she came. "Eheh," he let out a breathy chuckle. "Hard to follow much in this place. Though I guess those Wailers have it figured out somehow. So, what brought ya out here?" He kept his tone and gestures light, though his tail swished behind him. "I am looking for answers, but the fellows of Gridania do not seem to take kindly to outsiders. I suspect that is why you are out here as well?" She asks, still twirling the shriveled leaf. His eyes flicked to the motion of her hands, though this action was invisible in the dark holes of his mask, then back up to the roegadyn's face. Resting his hand behind his head in a casual pose, he replied, "Guess that's so. Quieter out here, too." "I suppose it is to some. Your never alone here though, whether or not you are aware of that fact, that much is apparent." "Apparently!" He laughed, waving at Cypress to demonstrate the observation. "I do not believe that the berries are so good, that one woud come out all this way for them. You could fit in well, mask and all with the city. Miqo'te are not so rare there are they?" She turned towards the much smaller man, looking down her broad, straight nose at him. At that, he just shrugged. "Not my kind, I guess. Half of 'em seem to sleep the day away, y'know. Also," his grin came through in his tone, "these are some damn good berries." She hummed at that, "A sweet tooth then?" "Just like trying new things." Turning his back on Cypress, he bent down to rummage through the shrub some more. Cypress walks forward towards him, "Then you didn't come here for the berries, they were just a pleasant side effect of your seeking shelter out here." He chuckled, pushing branches back and forth, "Definitely pleasant. Sure you don't wanna try some?" Not giving her a chance to reply, the miqo'te hummed to himself and then added, "So, if it's not the berries, what?" She shrugs, "That I don't know. But I am curious." She reaches forward to take a berry, "I will try one of your berries though, and hope they are better than the nuts." "That wouldn't be a good idea," an elderly voice grated from one of the thousands of shadows that the Black Shroud cast. It had its name for a reason, after all. Still, the speaker did not maintain his invisibility long, stepping into the sunlight with a slow, difficult gait far off to one side. The Duskwight would be familiar to at least one, bent low from his great height, hair and arms hanging in the breeze. "The berries are poisonous," he said, silver eyes watching the Roegadyn and the masked Miqo'te. "Might not kill one of your size, but you would not want to find yourself relying on the generosity of the Gridanians to care for you. You would find they have little generosity to offer." The red woman looks back down at the leaf in her hand and then over to the dark man who so fit in with the dark, damp parts of the world, where she did not, "And yet this man eats them." She says simply. "I do?" The masked miqo'te tilted his head, not looking at all caught off guard by the old Duskwight's sudden intrusion. "... Hah! Would ya look at that. Poison, huh, old man?" "Yes," the Duskwight answers, "Did you even think to ask the botanists what you should and shouldn't eat?" Red furred tail swishing behind him, the man rubbed the back of his head a bit sheepishly. "Well... it might not've... occurred to me. Heh." A pause. "Well, no harm done!" "Then are they not poisonous? I do not quite understand. What would take me down, would surely be worse for one your size as the old man says," She nods to the duskwright, short flaming hair falling over her face. "Hm," the miqo'te rumbled, ears fidgeting. "It seems your masked friend, uniquely, has no need to worry. Though," the rickety Duskwight lumbered towards them, his tone chiding, "He did have to be quite dull in order to teach us this." "Hey now," said friend protested. "They really do taste good!" "So they aren't poison? Or they are only to my kind?" She shakes her head. "But he is an outsider as well." "They're poisoned to everyone. Except him." "And why is this? From all that I have gleaned here, those who wear masks cannot gain the forest's favour" The ruddy man leapt on that, wagging one gloved finger, "Can't gain the forest's disfavor!" He thought for a moment. "I'm sure that's a word." "The masks make one anonymous to the woods," The Duskwight responded. His approach stopped several meters distant from the pair, the tattoos on his craggy features framing his eyes behind his hair. "They cannot hate or favor one with the mask. The consecrated wood protects its wearer from the forest's judgment. All Gridanians who wear such a mask are hypocrites, therefore." "Luckily I'm not a Gridanian," the miqo'te chuckled. "At least... I'm pretty sure I'm not." "I will be the first to admit that I do not understand their customs here. I merely attempted what little I know to this situation," explained Cypress, her yellow eyes drifting between the two very different men. "Knowledge is not an easy thing to come by here." "Knowledge is one of those things that are difficult to come by in places like this. We must rely on the Twelve to aid us. How did you come across my friend, miss Roegadyn?" She turned in the direction that she came in, using the leaf to point down the way, faint but evident dead growth in the underbrush painting a trail. "I followed what didn't belong, and found this man at the end of it." "Hey now," the indicated man said with an audible pout. "Don't have to go rubbing it in." "You shouldn't go leaving such obvious trails or the woodwailers will gut you," the Duskwight said to the masked man in a harsh tone. "Eheh..." The miqo'te's tail fidgeted behind him alongside the nervous little chuckle. Again his hand moved to rub at the back of his head. "Things were getting all... uncomfortable! I was just trying to take care of it, s'all," he added with a probably overly dismissive shrug. "So you did have a reason for your locale, you needn't have lied to me. I am not Gridanian." She says turning back to the Miqo'te. "Lie? Bah, I didn't lie to anyone," that pout had returned. The Duskwight huffed, looked up at the Roegadyn, "I'm curious why Oschon has brought you to us." She shrugs, "Enough time had passed. It must have been the right moment. And you seem to have answers." "Answers to what? To which berries are poisonous?" The Duskwight smirked, "Or to what the function of the masks are? Or something else?" "To many things I imagine. One does not live as long as you without collecting them. But the answer of this very moment is what is different about our masked friend. There is a key that I am surely missing. But he is not right." The roegadyn stares at the Duskwright, her eyes almost lethargic in their need, or lack thereof in blinking. "Not right!" The masked miqo'te's shoulders slumped sadly. "You wound me, miss. I'm just a guy, trying to make his way in the world." The Duskwight smiled, "Now why to answer you, miss Roegadyn? I would not normally entertain the question. One's lack of rightness is usually one's own business." "It has nothing to do with him personally. I am on this sojourn to do my duty and fix what was broken. A man who eats poison berries as treats and lets his apparent discomfort off on the living wood that would devour him is certainly of interest. I would have questions to ask and knowledge to gain." She breaks her gaze, only to look at nothing in particular, as if drifting off. "I'm not hurting anything," the miqo'te protested, and then with a chuckle, "This big place hardly even notices it." "I don't think she's here to pass judgment upon you," the Duskwight said, his eyes on the masked man. "She presents no risk. And I am curious. Aren't you?" The red woman lets the two men converse, seemingly content to stare off into the wood for the time being. The man tilted his head, and the narrow beam of sunlight piercing the Shroud's otherwise impenetrable canopy caught the gleam of bright blue eyes for a moment. His tail twisted. "Well. It's... not like it makes much of a difference, huh?" "You might learn something," the Duskwight said, looking to one side and apparently spying a tree he liked. He walked over to it and leaned his back to it, sliding down to sit against it. "I am willing to trade a story for information, if that is what you are asking," Cypress offers quietly. "It's not up to me whether to offer information or not," the Duskwight said. "It's the Miqo'te's business you're inquiring after." Said miqo'te could only shrug apologetically, however. "Sorry, though. I don't exactly have a whole lot of information myself." "Thus the point of our curiosity." He stared at the moving shadows as he spoke. "I once found an enchanted gravestone. The man in the mask was buried beneath it. He unearthed himself then. I've no knowledge of how he came to be there, or why, or by what mechanism he arose." "Aw, just let it all out, why don't ya," the miqo'te moaned, rubbed at his face beneath the mask, and then ran his hand over his ears and fiery hair. He ended the gesture with a laugh and a shake of his head. Turning to the Miqo'te, her nose scrunches slightly as if sniffing the air, "So you were dead and buried? I wonder who inhabits you now. The dead do not simply rise of their own volition." "At least not their bodies," she amended after a pause. "Who in... I inhabit me!" A single brow raised, "How do you know that?" The mask stared back at the roegadyn as blank as ever, though the man's slack posture communicated bafflement. "I... well.. because... I just do! What kind of a question is that? Heh, if I wasn't me, who else would I be? Not me... but then I wouldn't be me and... oh man, this is just way too complicated." "He is not a Voidsent," the Duskwight stated. "Then what is he?" She considers a thought, before mimicking the Duskwright’s tale, "I once found my grandfather crawling from the post that he had watched for so long. It was not the man I had met before, and so I cast him in the fire and took his place. It may be the case that you are not a malevolent force, indeed you have not struck me as such. But you should consider your nature, the dead are meant to remain that way, for it gives use a reason to live." The miqo'te's ears shifted back in a disturbed expression. "Your... grandfather? Uh, well... heh, luckily there aren't any fires around." She shakes her head, "You are the first one of your kind that I have found. You can be reasoned with, I would wish to trace your origin." Fidgeting a little, the man let out a huff that was half laugh. "My origin, huh. Well... what if I'm okay with not knowing?" "Would you rather know nothing?" Inquired the Duskwight. "This is not a mere inquiry of curiosity," Cypress states. The miqo'te held up both hands in an appealing gesture. "Hey, I didn't go seeking you out - was the other way around, y'know. I just... Heh, well, whatever happened, couldn't have been good. Why bother poking it?" "Ignorance is never a healthy choice," the Duskwight bit, and then turned his smile on the Roegadyn, "I cannot tell you very much more. I might be able to tell you where to ask after more, though." At that, the masked miqo'te looked to the Duskwight, ears tilted. "I have been too berefit of information for far too long, I would welcome it," she says to the elder. "Prior to his unearthing, I witnessed a miqo'te woman mourning at the grave. That was the last I saw of her until recently, when Oschon guided me back to her. And then he guided you to us. Perhaps I am meant to lead you to her." The miqo'te's ears pricked up at that. "A woman? Mourning?" He sighed, ran his hand over his head again. Cypress laughed near silently, her body and face going through the motion of the expression, "The twelve work in conjunction on these things, perhaps they are indeed lending me assistance in this manner and Althyk was merely testing my mettle. I would follow if you would lead." "Tell me more about what you must fix, Roegadyn." "What do you know of the Hellsguard, Duskwight? And I speak not of those who you see today roaming the streets of Ul'dah with their great axes." "I spent my life in a cave under the woods," the Duskwight said, as though that answered everything. "Then not so very different than how I have lived my own life. Simply exchange the woods for The Spine." She fiddled with the dried leaf that she had kept hold of all this time, "There are those of us who still watch over voidgates there. Many have forgotten, I have learned that in this journey. There are not many of us. My grandfather was a keeper for many, many years. His sister was there before him, and I took the post after his passing. That is our duty." Her lips twisted, and she crushed the leaf in her hand, turning it to dust. "I am not there. There is nothing that I can do to fix what happened from there, too many. I have to fix it." She took in a deep breath looking to the ground where she had let the flakes of leaf fluttered. "The gate is broken," the old man ventured. "It must be mended. I need to know what happened," the woman explains. The masked miqo'te had gone uncharacteristically quiet during this story, his tail swishing in a slow, low arc behind his legs. When the roegadyn seemed done, he paused a moment and then, "That's.. quite a history you've got there. But, uh, forgive my asking, but... why do you think I can help that?" "There must be a catalyst, the nature of the gate does not simply change on its own. You are an interesting case among voidsent, seemingly. And I cannot simply wait, I have done far too much of that, simply watching everything go by. You are a lead, and I should follow." "To be among voidsent, I'd have to be voidsent. Which I'm not, by the way!" The man sighed, shook his head, kind of nudged at the ground with one bare foot. "But... guess I can't stop ya, huh?" He finished with a short chuckle. "It seems that the term has been put in a box with a neat little bow, that they are all malicious demons. Your body died. And now it is inhabited by a spirit. What sort, I cannot say yet. Perhaps your original soul was recalled, or something else. Either way, you came from the void." Cypress said matter of factly. The masked miqo'te just kind of mumbled at that and then, "But... a mourning woman?" The mask turned to Megiddo, round, black holes staring. "Was she..." "I remember her saying that she would do a better job next time, and then she left." "Yes, I should like to meet this woman. Even if it is a dead end, something strange is at play." "Wait, hold on, next time?" The miqo'te sounded quite concerned by this. "What's that mean?" "I'm not sure," The Duskwight said, pondered, then smiled, "Do you think she wants to bury you again? You should ask her!" "Uhm... I think I'll leave that to my red friend," the miqo'te chuckled uneasily. "It would be good to share your company, and learn more of your nature through observation. What else would you continue to do here? Wait until this wood rips you back apart?" asks the red woman. "That seems a waste for everyone." The man waved one hand easily, "Aw, I don't think that'll happen. I've got a system here! Heh." "So, you would be content in your...," she contemplates potential terms, "new life to live in a wood that hates you, not knowing who or what you might be?" The mask made it impossible to judge the miqo'te's expression, and his generic shrug was rather useless as well. "Well, I don't know. I guess it would depend on... things? I mean, I really don't wanna meet that woman if she just wants to bury me again!" He laughed a bit at that and then seemed to sober up suddenly, "And if she really was mourning my death, something tells me popping back up as... whatever I am isn't gonna help her." "I will leave that to you. You do not appear to be harming much, except the shroud," she nodded back towards the path she came in on. "And I believe the Gridanian's fears concerning such matters." He tapped his mask with a gloved finger. "Don't ya worry. I'll be just fine." Red-furred ears shifted, listening to the rumbling sounds of the forest. "Though, eh... if you do find something out... I guess it wouldn't hurt to know. Just because." "Then we are done here." Cypress turned away from him at that, and stepped towards the Duskwright, "So you will take me to the mourning woman?" "Ul'dah," the Duskwight said, smiling. "Just where I had come from, but if it is the will of the Twelve..." "You would not have found her on your own, I think." "Let us leave then. Too much time has passed already," She said, looking down at the elder. "I am weary. You can go on ahead. Once you are there, you may find me by losing your way and letting Oschon guide you to me." "There is faith, and there is... lack of self-will. Cypress will likely be around the refugee camp." "Cypress?" "That is I. I will see you in Ul'dah then," she said before wandering off into the Black Shroud. The miqo'te who had not once introduced himself, except for a probably mistaken moment when he'd first awoken, lifted one hand and waved. "Happy travels, I guess!" "Oschong guide you," the Duskwight said, reclining.

Just wanted to say that, as her raid leader, Illira is a solid tank and knows her stuff. I'd love it if she could find a group for the first few turns so she doesn't have to miss out this coming week! If you're in need of a tank, she's definitely worth grabbing for a run! (I'm keeping her though. ;p)

T2 and T5 changes are a bug, as per this post. Did T5 tonight and didn't notice any difference in conflag HP though. The increase in size of the overhead markers was a welcome change to my poor vision that has difficulty picking out shapes when the colors are all the same intensity, so I really hope that isn't in the list of things to revert.

Antimony doesn't own any mount or pet or whatnot, so everything of that nature that I have is strictly OOC. I prefer the couerl (or the drake, as I have it on Anti) over chocobos though in an OOC sense, so that's usually what I'm riding on any of my characters. I would love to have a wolf mount though - especially the model in Coerthas. D:

I'll pick one moment for you: in TERA, that drunk-night where my character rested his codpiece against a cart because I somehow confused the word "elbow" with "codpiece". I remember hilarity ensued for everyone else, anyway. I swear I was NOT drunk. Oh my god. Thank you for that glorious reminder. I'm dying of lols as I type. Yes, definitely a moment to go down in RP history.

Haha, I have the same story. Except for us it was me as a Forsaken and him as a blood elf! And for the longest time I thought he was a girl. Still treasure those roleplay moments more than any other, though. I wasn't particularly good at the time (it was still fairly early in my rp "career", so to speak), but the emotional significance of all our meet-ups (and the initial run-in, at a bank alt gathering I'd organized) certainly make them my most memorable. It didn't hurt that some fantastically evil plots spiraled from those moments. x3 Then there was the scene we had in Rift where Twin's secret-necromancer character and my undead thrall were at Stonefield tavern and happened to... ahem, befriend a pair of strangers there. Long story short, his character ended up pretty much dissecting one of them. Not the kind of rp you get to do with random folk very often; usually those kinds of invasive things are reserved for more planned scenes. It was a very strange scene, but I loved it! I don't think I could pick a favorite from our TERA rp, though. Pretty much the entire massive plot we had going was just about the best roleplay I've ever had. I've had a lot of really good scenes in XIV, too, though. Some of my favorite have been our "retro" scenes though - exploring what life was like for my character and other tribe members before the Calamity. ... I'm horrible at picking a favorite. Oops.

I just wanted to swing by and say that I love everything about this post.

Antimony has what I can best describe as very strong displaced mothering instincts. Emphasis on the displaced. Though she was very much a recluse for the past five years, it was more a reaction to an emotional fracturing (at the loss of her children) than any sense of "I hate people," so though she can be socially inept, she's also extremely affectionate and encouraging towards those who seem troubled. Somehow she's gathered a small... uh, collection of "hobos" - wayward, wandering individuals who have now become targets of a mother's attention. If she's sensed that connection, so to speak, she won't hesitate with the comforting hand and shoulder pats, the caring looks and words, and when its called for, the warm hugs that seek to shield you from the world. It's a little awkward when the people she's doing that to are, say, an armored-to-the-teeth wannabe dragoon or a shifty homeless assassin. She was recently reunited with a daughter she thought long dead, and she's been extremely clingy to her as well. Basically, Antimony won't shy away from physical contact when she feels some kind of emotional or otherwise personal support is needed.

((The following occurs the morning after post #19 in this thread and just before/somewhat during post #20.)) *** Having left Antimony to suffer with her emotional and obviously injured family member (it was not, after all, any of his business, and Antimony hadn't seemed to care overmuch about the woman, and D'hein had after all completed walking her home and hadn't wanted to interrupt) D'hein figured he should bring some sort of gift or offering just in case Antimony hadn' had the best night after he had left. He took it for granted she had had the best night before. But after was another question entirely. This led D'hein back to the Quicksand relatively early with a wrapped item that was obviously a large bottle. Onlookers assumed it was liquor, but D'hein's sly smile perhaps made them suspect it was something worse. Poison perhaps? Blood? D'hein was a mysterious, well-groomed and extravagant stranger. The women who witnessed his passage would no doubt remember it for some time. *** Antimony had woken extremely early in the morning, at a time that perhaps may have better qualified as late night, late/early enough that she almost considered venturing outside her room. Almost. The risk of running into K'aijeen, even that that hour, however, had been too much. So she sat awake for hours, on the edge of her bed. Next to her, she'd laid out the coat Mitari had gifted her. It had weathered her treatment of it through the trip to Drybone surprisingly well, but it was still rather stained with mud. Same as her dress, which she'd folded up next to the remaining supplies D'hein had lended her. She felt guilty for those stains, and for the aborted attempt to visit Mitari in Coerthas. Then again, she also felt guilty for leaving K'ile and K'luha. And for talking to them. And for not finding K'airos before. And for leaving her job. And... Well, there was a pattern here. Antimony wondered if she could find any means to wash the coat. *** Outside, in the grand hall where the Quicksand's patrons used to gather, Ulanan commanded the barkeep to prepare a breakfast for two before she headed to the rooms. She never achieved that, though, as she noticed an extravagant known face carrying a bottle of dubious contents. For whatever reason, she turned around, ordered a breakfast for three and a table instead. Then she followed the well-groomed man down the corridor, with clear intentions of scaring the void out of him as soon as he turned around. Or maybe she wanted only to spy. D'hein arrived at Antimony's door, lifted his hand to knock on the door, but remembered he had been carrying something with that hand just in time to catch the bottle before it fell. Chuckling himself, he knocked on the door with the bottle, making a heavy clacking sound. At some point, Antimony had either grown bored of pondering the coat or had decided there wasn't much to be done for it at this hour (or this day, this week, this month?), for she'd laid back on the bed, her legs dangling over the edge. The position stretched sore muscles in her back and would make her hips sore soon, but she remained there nonetheless. The knock on the door reminded her of a promise Ulanan had given the evening before. Breakfast, already? Without the sky, it was difficult to keep track of time. Antimony stood with some effort, feeling more her age than usual, and stepped to the door barefoot though still wearing the borrowed clothes she'd gotten from D'hein. When she opened the door, her expectant look froze, shifted into confusion. "Ah, you're not..." She shook herself, ears flicking one way and then the other. "Uhm. Morning..?" "Good morning!" D'hein said, one ear bouncing, smile showing off his very white teeth. "I was a bit concerned considering the state of things when I left you last night." Sure that her interruption would only result in the unfair death of a bottle, Ulanan stayed away and to the side, letting the man do his ritual. Her ears ceased their roving to lay back flat against her skull in as clear a communication of her displeasure as any other form of body language. "Hngh," she managed, one hand on the door, her toes curling against the floor. "The state of things...? Was... well!" She huffed out some of her frustration and guilt. "It's not as though you had any obligation. None at all! It's not as though she were your niece with a broken hip that had gone untreated for weeks and was likely infected but there was little you could do except try to ease her pain even though it was against the law to even speak to her and--" Antimony blinked, shut her mouth with a click, and looked completely mortified at herself. After a moment, she finished weakly, "It's alright. What are you doing here?" "Oh, yes. It wasn't like any of those things." D'hein took hold of one of his ears, pulling it forward to align with his other. It snapped right back to its previous place, though. "If you say it's alright I'm sure it turned out fine, whatever things it turned out to be right. As to why I am here? Magnetism, Antimony!" "Magne... what?" Antimony's voice squeaked at the end, and she cleared her throat, working valiantly to regain composure after that outburst. "Is... something wrong? Ah, is it Airos? No, she left with--oh no, it's Aijeen, isn't it? You talked to her and she found out all about--she knows... or is she in trouble? What has she done??" D'hein blinked at Antimony, remaining neutral for a long time and finally sinking into vague confusion and silence, quiet for several seconds after Antimony was done talking. "No. No, none of that." He extended the wrapped bottle, "A gift in case you were upset after last night." Antimony's tail twitched. She looked to the item in D'hein's hands, then to the tia, then back to the item. Her tail curled. "Ah, another... you didn't have to... I can't possible accept more..!" With a small frown, he said, "There are few things that are worse luck than a gift refused." "Ah! I didn't mean--that is..." She blinked hard, fiddled with her glasses, and then bowed her head. "I'm sorry. I should only be grateful for your generosity." A certain blonde and hungry lalafell left her hideout, which was in plain sight if one turned the head enough, and walked down the hallway towards them. "You are awake!" she stated very calmly and with a smile. "Good morning." "Yes, I'm--what?" Antimony's expression went slack in confusion when D'hein's voice became the higher pitched, feminine tone of a familiar lalafell. D'hein didn't seem to notice the Lalafel, just shaking the bottle back and forth a bit, "So you should accept it." Still looking confused, Antimony held out her hands for the bottle, ears shifting about. Ulanan kept quiet, limiting herself to watch the exchange. D'hein gave the bottle to Antimony and declared, "So I was thinking about dinner again!" "Uhm." Holding the bottle as though it were a bomb, or perhaps poison, Antimony's eyes searched around D'hein, still caught on the voice she thought she'd... "Ah! Ulanan!" She clutched the bottle closer to her chest unconsciously. "I'm sorry--I didn't know he would... well!" Continuing in his oblviousness, D'hein looked confused? "Hm? Ulanan? What did he do?" Ulanan simply poked his ankle. "Hello. Good morning." "Yes, hello," D'hein said to Ulanan, and then returned to smile at Antimony, "He did what?" "He... you... ah! No-nothing! I was just... nevermind." She sighed, managed to look only mildly distressed, and cast an apologetic look towards Ulanan. Ulanan huffed at D'hein. "Well, I'm inviting Antimony to have breakfast with me. You can join us if you stop pretending you don't know I am Ulanan." she said. "Of course you're Ulanan," D'hein said to Ulanan, then returned his gaze to Antimony. After a nother moment he stepped back and turned to Uluanan, putting his arms on his hips, "Now how long have you been lurking there next to me, you mischievous saint, you." There was another huff. "I did say 'good morning'. You need to clean your ears. They can't hear lalafell voices, apparently." Wincing, Antimony fidgeted with the wrapped bottle and kept quiet. His brows knitting in concern, "My ears are VERY clean!" he lamented, rubbing at his ears in distress. "They certainly look well... groomed," Antimony trailed off into a mumble, eyed the object in her arms, and then eyed Ulanan. "Ah... breakfast, you said? Yes! That... is precisely what I'd... good idea. As usual." "Will you honor us with your presence, D'hein?" Ulanan asked, looking up to the man and smiling like a lady. "No, but I shall ask to be honored by yours," D'hein said, dipping his head, "And I shall humbly accompany you." "Aah, good! Good! I'll just put this..." Tail swishing uncertainly, Antimony took a step back into her room. Ulanan couldn't wait to put all the social protocol behind her, so she hurried with them: "Isn't it a lovely day? How was your travel to Ul'dah? And how are your business going? I hope your family is well! Do you like olives? Of course you do, I shouldn't ask such things!" She wore the same smile all the time. "All grand and etcetera," D'hein said, "I'll wait out in the lobby... foyer... tavern. Room." Ulanan nodded at that. Turning away from them both, Antimony took several short, quick steps back into the room and set the wrapped bottle down on the table. She took a moment to consider whether she should open it now, or wait until her... guests had left. The thought of Ulanan waiting on her slow tail drove her to gather her shoes, and she scrambled to pull them on while hopping back to the door. The lalafell waited until she had the feet covered with shoes before gesturing to the main hall of the Quicksand and moving towards it. "Did you rest well?" she asked Antimony. Of course by then D'hein had already gone out into the QUicksand's tavern, having assumed Antimony and Ulanan would want time to do girl stuff or something. Catching her breath after a moment, Antimony followed Ulanan, her baggy pants swishing with each step. "Ah, well, as... well as can be expected I think," she replied, fingers attempting to fix her hair as best she could on the move, painfully aware it must look slept upon. She sighed. D'hein paced out of the inn and into the tavern, idling near the innkeep's station and looking out at the tables. Arms crossed and expression pleasant, D'hein nonetheless appeared distant and confused. "We'll work on that!" said the lalafell. When they arrived at the tavern, she had no troubles identifying her table. Arguably, Antimony wouldn't have much trouble either: it had three jars of olives, and three plates, each one with a small portion of what looked like sautéed spinach, another portion of mushrooms and a big slice of olive bread. There were also three empty cups of tea, and the obligatory teapot in the center of all the food. But no milk at all. Still attempting to fix her hair, pushing stray strands back into the pins that held it up behind her head, Antimony followed Ulanan's tiny, bobbing form through the tavern to their table. "Work on...?" She trailed off with no small measure of trepidation, and her ears quirked as she spotted the rather copious amounts of olives set out amongst the food. Somehow managing to get walked right past without being noticed, D'hein looks saddened as he watches Antimony and Ulanan walk on into the tavern without him. Illira had just met with Amaury briefly for a brief time up on the airstrip cafe. It had been, strange to say the least to see him out of this prison setting that he had been so long trapped in. When she saw him last outside that venue was when she was but a young girl. Even now, it had been several years since she had been to visit. As she had avoided Ul'dah and indeed all reminders of its dirt-covered self since she had lost her Brass Blade appointment. It was... good to see him, surely. But there was little common ground as there had once been, growing up in the same household her following his every word. He needed time to reacclimatize, and she needed to fulfill her debt to him. So he left breakfast to retour the city and breath in, well, fresher air she supposed. And here she was, returning to the quicksand. Though she would have to track down D'hein soon enough and both question and admonish his meddling actions. D'hein allowed himself a depressed sigh, for just a moment, and then he inhaled and smiled, and followed after Antimony and Ulanan, angling for their table. "Where did D'hein go?" Ulanan pondered out loud, failing to notice that the man was following them. "Eh?" Antimony's hand stilled in her hair as she processed the lalafell's words and then, "Oh no! I completely forgot--" She spun around and then stopped suddenly to come face to face with D'hein. Very quickly her hand dropped from her head and she compulsively smoothed down her wrapped shirt, clearing her throat. "Ah, apologies." "Apologies? I didn't notice anything to apologize for." D'hein grinned and smoothly wove past Antimony, walking around the table and pulling out a chair for whichever lady was closest. Coming in through the side doors of the adventurer's guild, right off of Ruby Road, Illira's head was not it its usual ram-rod straight ahead position. Instead, she was looking down at the floor, watching her feet as she walked down the tavern's ramp. Antimony was slow to turn following the tia, and it was for this reason that she caught sight of Illira entering the Quicksand. The sight of the elezen sent a nervous flutter in her chest, painfully recalling the last moment Illira had seen of her, practically falling apart in the arms of her daughter. Not exactly a proud moment. "Mm," she murmured distractedly, worrying her hands a moment before half turning towards the table uncertainly. Ulanan had already jumped and sat on her chair. She reached to the top of the table with both arms, but couldn't get a hold of teapot. So she had to carefully jump to the table and walk across it until she could pick it up. "Would you like some tea? Or should I order something else?" she asked the two Miqo'te, oblivious of any incoming awkward moments. Positioning Antimony's chair so that it was away from the table and turned towards her, D'hein moved to his own seat and answered Ulanan, "Yes! A great, bitter morning tea with a significant portion of milk would be perfect!" Illira had nearly reached the ground floor when her over-sized Elezen ears picked up a familiar, overly enthusiastic voice that was very close indeed. "Milk!" it said, in its usual hapless fashion. Her head snapped up and towards it. And there he was, seating himself down at a table accompanied by Antimony and her pet lalafel. Ducking her head and her ears, Antimony sat quietly, her tail fluttering with an anxious shiver. "Milk is rather--well, certainly what Ulanan's provided is... quite fine!" "Milk is actually a good idea, though I cannot fathom why anyone would like bitter tea. But I'm not judging!" Ulanan said, in a judging voice. She raised a hand to call the attention of the waitress and, once she procured it, a short string of hand and facial expressions followed. Their meaning was probably to get a small jar of milk. "Bitter tea is morning tea, and milk smooths it out," D'hein said as he dropped into his seat. "It's a very typical practice among those who can afford fresh milk." Antimony grimaced, searching for an apology. "That's not--it's not as if we're...!" The tall woman stood there, unmoving and staring at the small group, that looked seemingly companionable if one ignored the occasional nervous twitches emitting from the older woman among them. Illira considered the moment, and if she should intrude on it to get the answers that she wished from the over-eager male, or if she should wait until she would surely she D'hein later at his office as she continued to catch him up on the news that he has missed during his long-unbidden absence from his duties. She set her mouth into a firm expression, on a small showing of a frown on it, and walked towards the table, settled against the circular wall of the Quicksand's innards. Lalafell were proud of their hearing. Those long ears nature gave them were always a boon. Unless someone yelled at the top of their lungs while the lalafell was two ilms next to them. However, in this case, Ulanan catched the approaching steps and turned briefly, expecting to see a waitress. When all she saw was Illira, Ulanan frowned for a very brief moment. Then she turned back to D'hein and smiled. "Where you expecting one of your colleagues?" "Ah, yes," D'heing said, "Antimony. And yourself. Though as a rule Lalafel are more coconspirators than colleagues, and I believe that applies to you." Antimony just fell quiet and fidgeted. Illira stopped just short of D'hein whose back was to her. She paused there for a moment, merely looking down at him, before speaking, "Hello D'hein. Just the person I needed to speak with." Ears fluttering, Antimony flicked her eyes up towards Illira and then down to her plate with its olives and... olives. D'hein stretched his arms over his head, smiling. His tail flipped around behind him, accidentally whacking Illira. But he doesn't notice it. "Oh, I am in demand today, aren't I? What lovely admirer has found me out?" He leaned far back and looked up, spying Illira and grinning a bit wider, "Oh! Good morning, Illira! Especially good, right?" Clenching her jaw, Illira said, "I would rather not discuss it with other company present. Sufice to say though..." the woman took in a breath, bracing herself, "You had -no- right to do as you did." Antimony just ducked her head and tried to pretend she didn't exist. D'hein's smile dropped from his face, "Well I'll just tell my friends to put him back, if you want." Ulanan was amused by the scene and kept quiet. Blinking, Antimony couldn't help herself, "Put... who?" Illira's focus was entirely on D'hein, moving slightly to the side so that she could look at him better. "I'm not about to choose that he be locked away again. But that -does not- make what you did right," her voice rises, "they are absolutely not your matters to sink your sticky fingers in and manipulate. How did you even hear of him?" She demands to know. At some point, a waiter had come, left the milk jar and left like a sneaky thief. Waiters knew when they had to do that to avoid being collateral damage of angry disputes. Ulanan, who was on top of the table at that moment, started serving the tea. "I think some tea might help in this matter." she said, holding one cup to the elezen. "I found out," D'hein answers, relaxing back forward and leaning his elbows on the table. "I reject the idea that you're angry at me for getting a man out of prison when he never should have been there in the first place. Were it a stranger you would've applauded me for undermining the syndicate and righting some wrong. No, you're offended that I've infringed on your personal sphere." "Perhaps I.. should..." Antimony couldn't quite finish the thought, but she could tell this conversation was not something she should be hearing. Illira shook her head fervently, a scowl crossing her face, "Your avoiding the question D'hein. And it was not, and should not have been your decision to make on the law's behalf. I know he was innocent. But that is beside the point." "This is Ul'dah. The Syndicate is the law, and my actions were completely legitimate." He gestured to the Lalafel's teacup, "Accept the tea. Accepting gifts is good luck." Ulanan felt like a maid for the briefest of moments. She shook her head to Antimony, trying to convey the idea that she shouldn't run away. "I'd rather not have to ruin this breakfast with angry choices of words. So yes, accept the tea and talk D'hein down like a high society lady: with fancy, hurtufl words." she smiled to Illira. Cutting her cold grey eyes towards Ulanan, she says, "I will not simply sit all prim and proper with this vilest of creatures. To do so would be to sit with the Syndicate themselves." She turned back towards D'hein, on a roll. "The only way you would have known of Amaury is by digging back into Carceri family history. You would not have known or remembered him any other way. I do not take kindly to people, coworkers, needling around in the dark behind my back. Antimony may forgive you and suckle at your teat in gratitude, but I will not." Flushing violently, Antimony's ears laid back flat as she choked at Illira's words. "I--I have not--" Her hands pushed at the edge of the table. "Ulanan, we really should just... leave them to.." "No, Antimony." Dropping his brow, frown growing on his face, D'hein stood and turned to Illira, "That's a rather vulgar way to speak of a lady who has done her best to serve you. I understand. As a woman who is still a Brass Blade at heart, of course you would become territorial when I stepped into your personal sphere and take out your frustration on bystanders. However, I would not suffer you to humiliate yourself. Allow me to escort you out so you may spit and cuss in the dust." The lalafell offered the cup Illira rejected to Antimony instead. She accompanied the action with some words: "Proper protocol prescribes protesters with the duty of debating at a distance from those not directly implicated." She smiled, turned, and walked to serve D'hein's tea. "And I don't want her to slap D'hein with one of my olive bread slices." The elezen laughs, a bitter edge ringing in it, "Oh, I suspect it would do Antimony good to hear of the depths that D'hein sinks in order to curry favour with other. It is no insult to her. She merely has not known him as long as I." "Feel free," D'hein stepped back, pulled his chair out, gestured to it, "Explain to Antimony how helping an innocent man to get parole is such a disgusting act." Her face burning, Antimony curled her tail tight around the leg of her chair. "That's not necessary," she began and then with a bit of a squeak in her voice, "Why--I don't wish to get involved in this!" "You two need to leave Antimony out of this." Ulanan protested, her voice severe. "She's not in shape to deal with two quarreling individuals during breakfast.." "Fine. Let’s go then, D'hein." Illira said harshly, reaching out to grasp D'hein's arm, intending to pull him from the table. D'hein pulled his arm away from Illira, saying proudly, "Unless you're placing me under arrest, which is no longer your job, I'll walk on my own." He paused for a moment to say to Antimony and Ulanan, "Thank you for the interrution, and I apologize for the scene." He picked up the tea that Ulanan had served to him, and took the milk, before turning away from the table to leave. Antimony winced, watched D'hein out of the corner of her eyes, and nodded stiffly. Ulanan also nodded, and let out a "Hope your day gets only better!" while she dropped back onto her chair. Antimony coughed uneasily and, after a moment, poked at her meal. Ulanan explained the food: "Mushrooms and spinach! And bread. Don't forget to put olives on all of it!" And so she did.

We don't know if it's one prism per gear, or one outfit per prism. We don't know if the prism is something that's consumed on use to apply a saved look to a particular piece of gear, or if it's something equipped. We don't know if you'll be able to apply lower ilvl gear appearances to higher ilvl prisms. All of these "we don't know"s have the potential to turn an "okay" system (which is essentially what I was hoping it would be - modular wardrobe tabs) into something utterly useless.

This is the kind of "logic" that's getting my beloved Reaver changed from a tank soul to a dps soul, and I'll ask the same question: why is it possible to have too many tanks to balance but never too many dps? This game has a grand total of two tank jobs (and two healer jobs); that's absurdly low. I would hope they would add more tank (and healer) jobs in the future because of this. Variety is important. What if someone wants to tank but they don't enjoy the flavor/aesthetics/mechanics of PLD or WAR? Considering how few people want to tank compared to dps, it seems pretty darn important to make sure you rope in as many folk as possible into that role by giving them appealing options. (And seriously. Why is 3 tank souls too many in warrior calling, but 7 dps souls in the mage calling are just fine?? Uggggggggh. /rage)

((The following occurs almost immediately after the events in the first post of Mind Over Breakfast.)) *** Ulanan took a chunk out of the day to show Antimony all the marvels of Ul'dah's ridiculous riches. She failed to mention that all the empty lots in the Goblet could be used to build houses for refugees instead of wealthy adventurers, though. But that would not bother a true Ul'dahn. Antimony was not a true Ul'dahn, however, so she would indeed have been bothered by such things. It might even have occurred to her, but she'd been rather quiet this whole walk so far, smiling briefly at Ulanan's explanations. With a distant look, she wondered half to herself, "Airos spoke of saving to buy a house... I wonder if this is the place she imagined." Ulanan shrugged, pointing at a random, meaningless point of space. "I hope so, because this place is much nicer than the city. Look at that waterfall!" she said, actually pointing to it this time. "A house with a window to it would be very nice. Just...not close to it, though. That would be too noisy." “It's all very impressive. Grand. Ul'dah does seem to love their stone walls...” “It keeps the peistes away.” Antimony turned her head to look across the small, likely man-made pond below. "I'm sure she would love it here," she murmured. “Well, it would certainly be one of the safest neighborhoods! Especially now that it's so...empty.” Antimony's ears drooped at some thought and she went quiet, making her way down the stairs of the path they walked. Ulanan tapped her chin. "I wonder if it's legal to plant crops in this place." Antimony blinked, brow furrowing behind her glasses in confusion, and looked down at Ulanan to her left. "What would you do with that..?" “Plant olives, of course!” The lalafell’s white, broad-brimmed hat bobbed with her gesturing. “Then I'd have all the olives I could ever want without having to pay. Though I guess the process of making the oil is a bit cumbersome.” Antimony's ears fidgeted one way and then the other. "I... am not entirely sure what goes into such a thing at all. Wouldn't you need a great deal of space..?" Ulanan turned to the right at a fork in the path, towards an arching tunnel. "Maybe. I don't know. This begs investigation! We need to find an olive farmer." Antimony looked up as they round the corner, wrinkling her brow at the towering walls above them, palm trees peeking out from behind balconies at improbable heights. “I... suppose they must have one. Somewhere.” Ulanan took a sharp turn in subject. "Where did you get those clothes? They do not seem to be your usual style." Antimony's ears flattened in embarrassment. "Ah, well, that... these were... well, my own clothes are rather ruined and--I suppose he meant well and... they were from D'hein," she finished at a bit of a mumble. Ulanan frowned. "He has terrible taste. We'll get you some actual clothes from the Weaver's Guild when we get back." She raised her head up, noticing that she walked into a tunnel. “Oh! They're really not... that bad,” Antimony protested with a wince. “They're comfortable! And I wouldn't want to seem ungrateful…” “Did he give you an entire wardrobe, though?” “An entire...? No! I'd never ask for such a thing.” “Then you'll need more varied clothes. You don't want to wear that every day.” Ulanan's words came out as a true, valid statement that could not be questioned. Antimony couldn’t really argue with that tone, though her ears lay back uncertainly as she continued down the tunnel. “It still feels... strange, this whole... situation.” Ulanan nodded with a weird air of understanding. "Running away does that. But good things come out of it, if the gods are willing!" Antimony frowned at that, unsure whether she should feel offended. “It was not the gods that... brought Airos back, certainly.” “Do not be so sure. You fled to wander, and the gods bless those who lose their way. In your panic, Oschon brought you to your daughter. Or perhaps it was chance, but these are all the same.” Ulanan was about to say something, but and old, male voice came out from a corner. She turned her head towards its source: an old man in the corner. Antimony's tail shivered spastically behind her, and she turned first her ears towards the voice, and then her eyes. Megiddo's dark skin blended well into the shadows he sat within, cast beneath the lanterns lighting the tunnel. The old Duskwight smiled. “... If chance and the gods are one and the same... ah, you... always pick the best times, Megiddo, “ Antimony sighed, ears relaxing just a bit. “Oschon picks the place and Nymeia picks the time,” Megiddo corrected. Antimony pressed her lips together. “Oschon is fond of giving you all the shadowy corners of the world,” Ulanan observed. “I do have some preference. I spent most of my life in tunnels beneath the Shroud. So when I arrived in the goblet, I sought the place most comfortable for me.” Antimony looked away, clasping her hands together and weaving her fingers between one another. Ulanan placed her hands on her hips. "That sounds awful. Why did Oschon bring us to you?" “Why do any people ever come into contact, Ulanan? It is because they have something to say, or to do, or to hear from one another.” Antimony's tail flicked against her legs and, after a moment, she managed in a quiet tone, "It's... good to see you well, Megiddo. What do you need?" “I require nothing,” Megiddo replied. “If you do not appreciate my presence, then you may choose not to suffer it.” Antimony's ears pressed back. "That's--not at all what I meant..! It's only that--well, you implied.. and I thought.. ah." Ulanan chose that moment to intervene, “Maybe it's the tunnel. Lalafell and Sun Seekers are surface dwellers. Let's get out of your featureless cave.” Megiddo hummed, and then braced himself against the wall to stand. "Ever must I walk in places that are unnatural to me. Oschon guides me to them as well, though. I should not lament." Antimony held up both hands, turning to Megiddo, "It's alright, you don't have to--I wouldn't want to put an undue burden on you.. Ah, this tunnel is just fine!" Ulanan remained unconvinced. "Is it?" she asked, then shook her head. "Let's assume it is, then." “Don't be ridiculous. Obviously you were on your way somewhere. Do not pause underground on my account. If I value your presence, then the least I can do is walk a ways.” Megiddo stepped away from the walk, not looking particularly weary on this specific evening. Antimony glanced to Ulanan. "Ah, I... don't think we had a particular..." She sighed. "I was simply trying to clear my head." “That is a particular goal we had! So, Megiddo, tell us where Oschon has sent you since the last time we saw you.” Ulanan gestured to the exit of the tunnel, trying to convey the idea that everyone should start walking towards it. Megiddo hummed, stepping forward to comply with Ulanan's gesture. "I do not pay attention to where I am most times. That is the point of wandering. I believe I walked through Ul'dah several times, although once or twice I was in the Shroud visiting a friend." Antimony ventured a small smile. "That sounds lovely. I hope your friend was well." Ulanan got going. She was so impatient! Antimony blinked and started after Ulanan as the lalafell said, “I assume he must not be a Gridanian. Or maybe an exceptional one.” Megiddo walked patiently, "He was well, thank you. As for if he is Gridanian, no. I have no friends native to that area, for obvious reasons." Antimony frowned. "Yes, well... ah, at least Ul'dah isn't... hm." Ulanan let out an amused chuckle. "Yes, nobody can say anything nice about Ul'dah." “I can say I have more friends here, and that -- although it is hot -- it has many convenient shadows. At the risk of re-cluttering Antimony's head, I hope things have not gone too badly since our last meeting. You look like you are doing better, actually.” Antimony looked down to the cobblestone path beneath her feet, brow still furrowed. "Ah, yes, well... I suppose. There's still..." “Difficulties,” Ulanan finished. At that, Antimony winced, tail shifting uncomfortably. “Life is a long series of difficulties,” Megiddo observed. Antimony simply went quiet and continued walking through the tunnel. After a moment, Ulanan spoke up, “And who's your friend, if you don't mind me asking?” “Simply a man, no different than any other. I have many friends across Eorzea.” Ulanan looked away from the Duskwight. "He sounds very interesting." Antimony blinked, ears tilting. "He does...? How do you..." Her tail shivered then and she hastily added, "Ah, I mean, I'm sure he's wonderful! If he knows you, well..." “You are being polite. It's fine,” Megiddo acknowledged. “I'm curious how Ulanan has been keeping busy. I've begun to imagine that she retires into an enchanted cupboard, most days.” “... I certainly hope you're staying in more than a cupboard!” Antimony gave a worried look to Ulanan. The lalafell frowned and pouted, "Do not get silly ideas only because I'm small! I've been busy making paper constructs, and before that I was busy locating your daughters." She sped up then. The exit was just ahead! Oh, glorious daylight! “... Those do not sound like occupations.” “Your wandering isn't an occupation either,” Ulanan replied. “Oh, it is.” Antimony looked even more worried then. "Ulanan, you really shouldn't... there's no need to waste your time on my troubles--I don't want you to end up... well, homeless! Or.. anything else!" “I was homeless before we even met! But I have family in the city, and they do have homes. So don't worry.” Ulanan smiled up at Antimony. The older woman's ears lay back unhappily. "I would just hate to distract you from... well, everything more important." She blinked, catching on the lalafells words, and then, "... paper constructs?" Megiddo lingered back in the shadows for a moment, watching the daylight and letting his eyes adjust to it. Ulanan nodded and said, "Yes." as if that somehow explained the concept. Antimony hesitated in her steps, caught up in the thought and confusion around paper constructs, then hurried to follow after Ulanan before suddenly stopping and turning to check on Megiddo. “There is a saying,” the Duskwight began, “’Do not trust a homeless person who has much money.’ I suspect it does not apply to Lalafel, though. For who has ever heard of a Lalafel without money?” “... That's a saying? From whom?” “Envious people, clearly,” Ulanan declared as she spent some time standing on her toes and peeking over the railing just outside the tunnel. “I believe it is meant to be a political statement. Ul'dahns have a lot to say about money and station.” With that said, Megiddo finally emerged from the tunnel. Antimony pursed her lips. "I suppose so... It's an unfortunate place." She sighed, looking troubled. "I'm glad Airos doesn't seem to have been... bothered by it." “I have a bigger question, though. Ul'dah is a city built by lalafell. Yet all our architecture seems to be made by extremely tall people.” Ulanan made her point by standing on her toes to look over the railing. “I offer no explanation,” Megiddo shrugged. “Perhaps they wished to be welcome to very large guests. Overestimating the size of Roegadyn.” “Truly, we are a very charitable kind.” Antimony brought one hand up to her mouth to stifle a very inappropriate laugh. Clearing her throat, she added, "Or simply to be intimidating." Ulanan found the railing too tiresome, so she turned around and stopped bothering with it. “I doubt it. Once something gets too big, it is no longer intimidating, and simply ridiculous,” Megiddo shook his head. “Now, how does one clear a head? I'm unfamiliar with the process.” Antimony's ears twitched. "Ah, well. I..." A small shrug. “You distract them with diminutive but decidedly delightful dealings so they can dismiss the dull dealings that dirtied their determination.” “That may be beyond my abilities,” Megiddo admitted. “All of my dealings are dirt, and I'm far too tall to do anything diminutively.” Antimony looked between the two and, after a moment, let out an uneasy, faint chuckle. "It's alright. This walk is... well, the fresh air is nice. Without having to worry about... ah." “I should show you my paper constructs right after we get you a proper wardrobe.” Ulanan's change of subject was swift like the shadow of a dove that had been tied up and catapulted towards a wall. “A paper wardrobe...?” Antimony looked thoroughly confused. “Proper, she said,” Megiddo corrected. “... Ah. Yes. Of... course.” Ulanan burst out laughing. “I belive it being proper means it cannot be paper,” the Duskwight added. Antimony wrung her hands uncomfortably. "You truly don't have to go spending money like that, Ulanan. Paper or... proper." “Paper would be a pain to put on. And I can't let you walk around like this. It's an outrage against proper manners and the basic fashion instincts of mankind.” Ulanan gestured broadly towards Antimony, “Specially the trousers.” “From my point of view, it's an amusing thing to be preoccupied with.” Antimony went a little warm in the face, her tail wrapping itself against one leg. "Ah, well, they're--I mean, they're a bit over-large, but... they're not that bad!" “He could have at least asked for your size. But typical of men, he thought he could take one look at you and guess it,” Ulanan scoffed. “... It was a gift! And--I hardly think he had the... opportunity,” Antimony winced. “I suspect it is rude to ask another person their measurements,” Megiddo commented. “I'm from a cave in the woods and even I know that much.” “Yes, and that's why you don't just give clothes to people. You bring them to the Weaver's Guild with you...why are you standing so far?” Ulanan waved one arm from where she stood several fulms away, at the top of another flight of stairs. Antimony jumped and moved to close the distance between herself and the lalafell. “Why did you walk so far away? I thought we were resting. That tunnel was a very long hill,” Megiddo replied. “Because there are benches down here.” The lalafell gestured to the benches. Megiddo nodded, "I see," and walked on over. Antimony perked up somewhat. “Didn't you have benches on your cave?” Ulanan questioned. “I did not. There's little difference between a bench and the floor once you're down, though. One is just easier to get up from.” Megiddo went straight for a bench and sat himself down. “And aren't you glad we are sitting on the easy to get up from one?” “For now. I learned a while ago to only sit on the ground when I don't intend to get up for a very long time.” Antimony offered a small, brief smile to Megiddo and Ulanan. "And the cleaner one, I imagine." “Ulanan,” Megiddo said after a moment of easing into the bench, “if you can afford an entire wardrobe made by the Weaver's Guild, why are you homeless?” “Are you implying only poor people can wander?” “I encourage all to wander,” the Duskwight acknowledged. “But it is also good to have a home to return to, and I know of few who choose to wander without that behind them. Antimony dipped her head slightly. "Wandering isn't... well, for a long time my own home was constantly on the move." “You must have missed the part where I said I have a family in the city.” Antimony furrowed her brow. "But... you don't like your family." Flinching she added quickly after, "Not that--I mean, I was only assuming based on what you've previously... said.." Ulanan seemed confused. "I don't?" “Do they wear linen cloth?” “What? No! Gods forbid that!” Antimony's ears quirked in different directions. Megiddo's ears did not move. "Would you say any of your family's homes are your homes?" “Home's where the family is.” “Then you are not homeless.” At that, Antimony looked down to her lap, tail wrapping against one leg. “Was that ever in question?” Ulanan seemed to have lost track of the matter at hand. Antimony's mood seemed to have taken a downward turn, but she still said, "It's comforting you do have a place to go, then, Ulanan. I'd worry for you.” Ulanan changed the subject of the conversation once again, "This side of the Goblet is awful. All these cliff faces ruining the view. The other side must be much nicer." Antimony made a distracted sound and glanced at Ulanan sideways. Megiddo spoke then, “Is the head-clearing working?” Antimony was quiet for a moment, ears drooping with whatever thoughts dogged her, and then she turned with a warm if faint smile to Megiddo. "Quite! As clear as.. the... midday sky!" “You are a terrible liar,” Ulanan said with a joking tone. Antimony's eyes widened. "Why would you--no, you both have been very helpful!" Ulanan squinted with suspicion. "Well, what kind of clothes do you like?" “Ah, well...” Grimacing, her ears twisted uncomfortably. "... Clothing clothes? I--really, I can't be picky." Megiddo looked up from where he was staring at the ground, turning to Antimony and saying, "If you don't mind my curiosity, were you successful?" Ulanan didn’t understand the question, so she just raised her brows in complete silence. Antimony shifted her gaze to Megiddo, green eyes blinking rapidly behind her glasses. "Ah...? Successful in... oh." She went quiet at that. “You look well, so I had thought you might be,” Megiddo explained. “But then you seem upset as well. I cannot tell if it's something I can help with or not.” Antimony gained an odd, unsettled expression, breathing a few, short times through her nose, and then managed quietly, "It will just take some time." “I'm afraid we don't need you to stab anyone in the eye with exploding dolls, no.” Ulanan’s tone was bitter for no reason. Antimony winced. "Ulanan..." “Hrm. The statement is very specific. I am guessing the event did not meet with your approval.” The lalafell shrugged, “It's just not he method I'd use, that's all I'm saying.” Antimony ducked her head. "Perhaps, ah... perhaps something else will... work." “We should concentrate on your clothes,” her smaller friend announced. “Unless you don't mind wearing blankets with holes for the limbs and head.” Furrowing her brow, Antimony protested, "They're not blankets..." “I've worn blankets. The difference is vast,” Megiddo concurred. “Then what kind of clothes do you like? Long dresses? Skirts? Trousers? Big hats? Small hats? Pointy hats?” Antimony worried her hands together in her lap. "It... truly doesn't matter, Ulanan. Whichever--ah, whichever doesn't put too much burden on you." Megiddo lookeddown at his lap when he remembered he actually was wearing a blanket. It just rested against his pants, but was Ulanan insulting him? “Mm. Fine, then,” the lalafell huffed. “When would you like to get that done?” Antimony sighed, looking to Megiddo and then skyward, squinting through the glare. "... Alright. I suppose it can't hurt." “It's good to accept your friend's help, even if it is with such a thing as clothing,” the old man added. Her ears shifted back slightly as she glanced towards Megiddo. "Yes, well..." Then with a sigh, she stood. “Specially when you need it,” Ulanan said. “Go on without me,” the Duskwight offered. “I think I'll sit here a time longer. Though, a question, before you go.” Antimony looked to Megiddo with a quiet expression. Ulanan was suspicious but waited for the actual question before doing anything more than raise both brows. “What method would you have used, Ulanan, since you seem to have an opinion on these things.” Antimony's tail flicked, thrown off by the question, and she glanced sideways at Ulanan uncertainly. The lalafell gave Megiddo a thoughtful look. “Olives.” A pause. “...and maybe a well-balanced, non-poisoned breakfast.” Antimony let out a short, quiet chuckle. “Olives. I wise answer, I suppose. Perhaps next time I will try olives.” “You should!” the lalafell nodded, her hat bouncing. “You can't go wrong with them.” Ulanan smiled at Antimony. "Should we get going, then?" The older woman nodded after a moment, then offered a brief smile and a bow of her head to Megiddo before turning to leave with Ulanan. “Fare well.” The Duskwight remained on his bench, looking older by the minute.

The key to balancing PvP is to completely divorce it from PvE. The day all skills function differently in PvP from how they do in PvE is the day an MMO will truly be able to "balance" both (or as close as one can ever get to true "balance"). Regarding Rift, I've actually seen a rather wide variety of classes whilst dungeoning. The thing about that MMO, though, is that most people have 2, 3, or more roles set up that they switch between depending on any given situation (and in a raiding environment, often from fight to fight). It's extremely uncommon for a player to ONLY be a 61 pt Purifier and nothing else.

... *crawls into a corner and weeps for the loss of Reaver tank*

In which case, they may as well get rid of the "class" and "job" terminology all together, keeping the lore and whatnot but merging the concepts. As it is, the terms mean very little if anything, and the most important thing in terms of designing new jobs is distinguishing them from other jobs; therefore it makes sense to just toss out the useless parts of the system for something more streamlined and more easily adapted with new abilities.

Preach it.

If Squee weren't off their rocker, they would design personal housing in a way that a small, basic one is provided free (or extremely cheap) to everyone, with larger/different upgrades available for gil/rep/whatever. There's a certain MMO where I've got five dimensions (though two can only be active and accessible at any given time). One is a small, simple location that was provided after completing an introductory quest about dimensions. Another I got with rep. Another I got by completing dailies during a world event to collect a certain number of that world event's token currency - no plat spent there at all! Two more were loyalty rewards. There are dozens more, some available with plat, others during world events, and so on. And that's just the base dimension; I can't even begin to describe the sheer magnitude and creative breadth of the items you can place in them and how you can arrange them. Twin got a dimension recently that looks like this as a base: He's currently working on building a chapel over the lake, complete with a stained glass window (colors made from candles, bolts of cloth, books, and other objects). Oh, and talk about creative freedom! All those things in the screenshots? Created through creative placement, rotation, and resizing of various dimension items. Yea... Squee can call me when they've put actual work into their housing system.