Thread Closed
She was used to these sort of looks.
They didn’t come so often anymore, not as long as she avoided the Shroud. Limsa, after all, had never been racist to her in the way the Wildwoods were. Here, Ojene was an irregularity- a spectacle. But by now a familiar one. And in the days of adventurers, she was no longer the La Noscean rarity she once was.
But still, she stood out.
As part of the flow, Ojene walked, just another body milling her way through sweeping Limsan bridges. The younger, the faster, the unencumbered passed her, circling by as her cane tapped against wood and stone. So it was, that a Sea Wolf stepped around her. A red bandana splashed over the woman’s deep brown hair, clashing with the ragged jerkin that hung from her shoulders. She shot a glance at Ojene as she passed… and her eyes narrowed.
Ojene knew that look. Her hand tensed on the head of her cane. But the Sea Wolf didn’t pause, didn’t stop. With a nose-wrinkling sneer, she whipped away and strode a little faster until she vanished into the crowds.
Huh.
I wonder if she was from Gloam.
It was a reasonable thought, Ojene presumed. The rap of her cane quickened as she changed her direction for a path a little more populated. Rumors flew like birds sometimes, and it seemed like far more people than she’d care to say had caught wind of that ludicrously tall middle-aged Duskwight who’d turned a Maelstrom hearing on its head. Or at least, who’d tried her best to do so.
The response wasn’t all great. That was to be expected, when you stepped up to defend an unpopular Commodore from the accusations of adventurers who’d never had to make the sorts of calls he did. But adventurers were capricious creatures. Their hatred would burn and flare, then vanish, puffing out on the wind when the next big thing drifted their way. If they’d ever questioned themselves, Ojene would never know. But their actions too often did not seem like the sort taken by people who put great thought into the greater ramifications to come. If they had, they’d likely have done some things differently. Or perhaps they’d never have sought the Commodore’s blood, for they’d have understood the instability their actions could bring.
Commodore Haelstrymm. As she made for the Coral Tower, her eyes lit upon the back of a massive Roegadyn with a bald patch in the back, and for a tremulous flash she wondered if it was him. But when he turned his head, his features were all different- a scarred cheek. A broken nose. And Ojene couldn’t deny the tingle of relief that spread through her bones.
The former Commodore would want to talk to her, she suspected. And she would be duty-bound to engage in conversation. To stand before him. To hear what he had to say. Maybe he’d thank her. Commend her. Maybe he wouldn’t. She’d probably find out, in the days to follow. It wasn’t a bad thing. Nay, it was a mark, perhaps, of how far she’d come. But something about the thought sent an unease roiling beneath her skin, one with an origin she couldn’t quite place.
Duty. She’d done her duty. That was the important part. And without a moment’s hesitation, she’d do it again.
As Ojene stepped into the Maelstrom offices in the Coral Tower, the bookkeeper sitting at the front desk looked up with a smile. The uniformed soldiers standing nearby did too. She was becoming known, it seemed. And here, amongst the Grand Company she’d sworn to defend, the rumors were apparently good.
“Miss Suinuet, back again.â€
“Yes.†She stopped before him, both hands laid atop the head of her cane. “Is Second Commander Holskstymm in?â€
“Nay, nay.†The bookkeeper pushed back his narrow spectacles with one finger. “He left on business this morn.â€
“Ah.†Ojene reached into the sturdy pouch at her side. “That’s fine. Just see this delivered to him when he returns.â€
Out she pulled a sealed letter, the hardened wax seal freshly cooled. The parchment crinkled as the man took it. “I will. Does that mean we’ll be seeing you round here more often?â€
Ojene paused. And she flashed the bookkeeper a wry smile. Rumors.
“Yes,†she said. “I quite expect it does.â€
It was a peculiar sensation that washed over her as she stepped back out into the Limsan sun. An end of an era, but the beginning of something new. Miss Suinuet she would be no longer. At least not here. Legalman Suinuet, Storm Sergeant to the Maelstrom, now that was a title to say.
Shit.
She was going to have to practice her salute.
They didn’t come so often anymore, not as long as she avoided the Shroud. Limsa, after all, had never been racist to her in the way the Wildwoods were. Here, Ojene was an irregularity- a spectacle. But by now a familiar one. And in the days of adventurers, she was no longer the La Noscean rarity she once was.
But still, she stood out.
As part of the flow, Ojene walked, just another body milling her way through sweeping Limsan bridges. The younger, the faster, the unencumbered passed her, circling by as her cane tapped against wood and stone. So it was, that a Sea Wolf stepped around her. A red bandana splashed over the woman’s deep brown hair, clashing with the ragged jerkin that hung from her shoulders. She shot a glance at Ojene as she passed… and her eyes narrowed.
Ojene knew that look. Her hand tensed on the head of her cane. But the Sea Wolf didn’t pause, didn’t stop. With a nose-wrinkling sneer, she whipped away and strode a little faster until she vanished into the crowds.
Huh.
I wonder if she was from Gloam.
It was a reasonable thought, Ojene presumed. The rap of her cane quickened as she changed her direction for a path a little more populated. Rumors flew like birds sometimes, and it seemed like far more people than she’d care to say had caught wind of that ludicrously tall middle-aged Duskwight who’d turned a Maelstrom hearing on its head. Or at least, who’d tried her best to do so.
The response wasn’t all great. That was to be expected, when you stepped up to defend an unpopular Commodore from the accusations of adventurers who’d never had to make the sorts of calls he did. But adventurers were capricious creatures. Their hatred would burn and flare, then vanish, puffing out on the wind when the next big thing drifted their way. If they’d ever questioned themselves, Ojene would never know. But their actions too often did not seem like the sort taken by people who put great thought into the greater ramifications to come. If they had, they’d likely have done some things differently. Or perhaps they’d never have sought the Commodore’s blood, for they’d have understood the instability their actions could bring.
Commodore Haelstrymm. As she made for the Coral Tower, her eyes lit upon the back of a massive Roegadyn with a bald patch in the back, and for a tremulous flash she wondered if it was him. But when he turned his head, his features were all different- a scarred cheek. A broken nose. And Ojene couldn’t deny the tingle of relief that spread through her bones.
The former Commodore would want to talk to her, she suspected. And she would be duty-bound to engage in conversation. To stand before him. To hear what he had to say. Maybe he’d thank her. Commend her. Maybe he wouldn’t. She’d probably find out, in the days to follow. It wasn’t a bad thing. Nay, it was a mark, perhaps, of how far she’d come. But something about the thought sent an unease roiling beneath her skin, one with an origin she couldn’t quite place.
Duty. She’d done her duty. That was the important part. And without a moment’s hesitation, she’d do it again.
As Ojene stepped into the Maelstrom offices in the Coral Tower, the bookkeeper sitting at the front desk looked up with a smile. The uniformed soldiers standing nearby did too. She was becoming known, it seemed. And here, amongst the Grand Company she’d sworn to defend, the rumors were apparently good.
“Miss Suinuet, back again.â€
“Yes.†She stopped before him, both hands laid atop the head of her cane. “Is Second Commander Holskstymm in?â€
“Nay, nay.†The bookkeeper pushed back his narrow spectacles with one finger. “He left on business this morn.â€
“Ah.†Ojene reached into the sturdy pouch at her side. “That’s fine. Just see this delivered to him when he returns.â€
Out she pulled a sealed letter, the hardened wax seal freshly cooled. The parchment crinkled as the man took it. “I will. Does that mean we’ll be seeing you round here more often?â€
Ojene paused. And she flashed the bookkeeper a wry smile. Rumors.
“Yes,†she said. “I quite expect it does.â€
It was a peculiar sensation that washed over her as she stepped back out into the Limsan sun. An end of an era, but the beginning of something new. Miss Suinuet she would be no longer. At least not here. Legalman Suinuet, Storm Sergeant to the Maelstrom, now that was a title to say.
Shit.
She was going to have to practice her salute.
Characters:Â Ojene Suinuet, Jophoix Suinuet