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**Unnamed Mercenary** · **02-09-2015, 11:36 PM**

"That...isn't freedom."

Franz took a step back towards the door.

"The freedom you seek to share isn't even living. It isn't anything. To be bound by nothing at all. To have no attachment to anything worthwhile. Living a life like that would be the same as death. There would be nothing to aspire for."

Another step back. He wouldn't notice the crow.

"Surely you can't honestly think that such is being 'free'."

Askier · **02-10-2015, 04:48 AM**

"Your powers of observation serve you well, Master Renatus. It isn't living and that is the entire point. Â This is transcending the thing you call life." Jin'li's face was blank and he was completely unaware that he had just made a slightly pointed jab. In fact he was totally unaware of how insane he sounded. In his broken little miqo'te head, the concepts of overcoming the mortal condition and seizing one's right as an equal to the gods seemed totally reasonable.

Jin'li flicked his tail as Franz made to leave and the miqo'te's hand rose from the table, the fingers flexing themselves.

"Until you cast off the chains that bind, you will never be free and, therefore, you will always be weak. How easy it would be for this one to find the ones you care about. It would only require watching from the shadows long enough to know who they are. Then I-" Jin'li made a horrible coughing noise when using the words 'I' but continued as if nothing had happened. "Would take them and make you dance because if you didn't I would hurt them. That is not freedom. That is no way to live. However, Â You showed me a kindness. And while you certainly have the right to leave this place, I-"

Â Again with the weird noise when using the first person. What a weird cat.

"Have the right to act as well. Please understand that the kindness I am about to bestow on you is not punishment, its liberation. If you are strong enough, you will thank me for this. Please understand I do this because I like you.""

Jin'li's hand dashed beneath his coat like a snake and jerked back out. The miqo'te fully extended his arm and leveled his gunblade dagger directly at Franz's chest.Â

The weapon shone silver in the room's light and the bird on the desk cawed loudly in excitement as its red eyes peered at Franz.

"If this one may be so bold as to add, Master Franz," Jin'lil's words were slow and even; his face devoid of any emotion as he pulled the hammer back on the weapon and the chamber rotated to align the bullet to the barrel. "no matter the outcome, would you kindly take a shower? You stink of Crow."

Jin'li gently squeezed the trigger and sent his shot down range.

**Unnamed Mercenary** · **02-11-2015, 12:39 AM**

It was a disgusting, painfully uncomfortable feeling.

Being stabbed.

Franz clutched the wound, trying to lessen the flow of blood that escaped him. As with every injury, he could feel the entire wound. How deep the dagger had gone. The intensity of the pain as the bullet was fired. It was moments like these he felt the most alive. Dying.

Coughing himself, there was a pained glare at Jin'li. "I'd have thought you knew better, but I suppose that was a mistake. You know it takes much more than just a dagger to get anything done. Were you not watching when Rotunda decided to impale me?" As he spoke, he was already visualizing a mental image of the required arcanima to seal and repair the wound.Â

He made an attempt to try to shove the miqo'te and his dagger far away enough to do trauma repair. Get himself far away enough to actually assess and treat the damage. It was still only a single gunblade wound. He could still move his legs. His arms. Pain had permeated his body, but an escape wasn't impossible. A gate into the aether would be impossible, however. Between the lack of required concentration on such, it would have given plenty of opportunity for another attack.Â

Franz's plan was to escape the room, seal the wound to prevent further blood loss and then find someone safe enough to decide a future move.Â

There was no intention to die here. Not at this place. Not at this time. And certainly not when there was still so much to do.

In a way, it was almost reassuring. An ample reminder that he was unwelcome in Eorzea and Garlemald alike. It didn't matter who he encountered. Perhaps they were all the same.

There was a blood/splattered laugh at the thought. "Maybe I do need freedom." As he tried to steady himself to get away, there was only a final remark.

"Is death truly freedom?"

Askier · **02-11-2015, 12:21 PM**

Jin'li felt the massive hyur shove him backwards. The runt backpeddled wildly but was saved from tumbling to the floor in a wild sprawl be his cane, which he used as a third plant point to regain his footing.

The Garlean's black eyes swivled at Franz and saw the blood rushing out.

There was no emotion on Jin'i's face as he saw Franz's blood and calculated the severity of the wound. There was no joy in this, nor regret. Only a simple action and to Jin'li killing was like taking a breath. Automated and manditory.

The raven began shreiking excitedly, its red eyes fixed at Franz as it hopped around. A screaching sound was heard and more ravens began to gather at the window, their glowing red eyes fixed on the bleeding man as their talons and claws slashed and scratched the glass. In unison the birds were cawing out one word:

"Kill! Kill! Kill!"

Jin'li heafted the gunblade again and aimed it at Franz's chest again. He pulled the hammer back. Blood dripped from the silver blade. As the drops fell, the raven on the desk grew more excited and suddenly the bird flew forward and seized a drop of blood in its beack, its cry crowing louder.

"If death is not freedom, how could this one stand here now to bestow the gift upon you? Why else would this one want to kill you unless it was a kindnes?" came Jin'li's flat reply to Franz's question. Jin'li watched as the large man readied himself to escape. Jin'li's finger gently squeezed the tigger and the muzzle-flash illuminated the room as the bullet spun out in an attempt to hit Franz before the hyur escaped.

**Unnamed Mercenary** · **02-11-2015, 03:21 PM**

Pain seared through once again, catching Franz off guard. A bullet. Another bullet.

He hadn't expected the reformed Jin'li to have been able to steady himself. Whatever body he had now must have at least been functional.

There was nothing to be said. Not a lack of thoughts, but a lack of capability. How would one expect to breath with multiple chest wounds?

He was scared. Or felt being scared, and his body fell to the floor with a loud thud. Franz's mind raced as the various possibilities to escape became impossible. Healing became impossible. Living? Impossible.

He was going to die. Or rather, was in the process of dying. There was still so much to do. So many questions left unanswered. There wasn't even a life to flash before his eyes.

As consciousness painfully drained from him, there was but only a single thought. "I'm not ready."

And that was all. As the body ceased to function with a final convulsion, the Garlean had died. In the final moments of his existence, he felt the aether. Felt the feeling of returning to it.

And desperately tried to stay himself. "No. I won't allow this to be the end. There is still so much to do. People I must still meet again. Life to live. " He could not become a piece of the realm of the dead. But if this was within the aether, could he not travel the same way as any other teleport? There was arcanima to rebuild a body in pieces. Why not simply rebuild every piece at the same time?

But it wasn't safe here. It wasn't safe anywhere near Jin'li. The mass of aether that was stored within him shifted. "A gate. Make an aetherial gate to somewhere else. 'His' house. The Shroud. I'll go there. Safe. Yes, the hidden away cottage will be safe."

As an aetherial gate opened, he drew upon himself to rebuild. A skeleton. Flesh. Muscle. Organs. Skin. Hair. All if if needed to be made again. But with enough aether at his disposal, why could he not just rebuild each together. The aether was concentrated and compacted. Arcanima cast. And in an instant, Franz fell to the floor of the cottage. He could feel the cooler wooden floor. Smell the different air if the forest.

Everything hurt. It was as if his entire body had been composed of pain. He shivered. It was cold here. And there was nothing to cover himself. He dared not open his eyes yet. What if it was exceedingly bright? What if he simply awakened to die again? A breath. More air. Another shiver. Clothes. He needed clothes. He slowly opened his eyes to let the light in. The first few minutes were blinding as his eyes tried to adjust to the rush of information.

He was there. In the cottage. With a pained groan, he attempted to move. The room was small. A dresser was not too far. Smallclothes, a shirt and trousers. Everything felt strange to touch, as if a new experience. He was tired. Nearly falling onto the nearby bed, he passed out. Liveliness could be determined at another time.

edit: fixed a spelling issue. Lemme know anytime if there're more.

Askier · **02-12-2015, 10:00 AM**

((Oh knowing he way things happen with plots and all, I'm certain there wil be more soon enough Wink

))

Jinâ€™li watched as the large man crumpled to the floor, his blood spilling out. The squawking of the crows intensified but the stoic miqoâ€™te did not react. His black eyes were fixed on the dead form. As Jinâ€™li stared, the air around the corpse shimmered and grew dark. For a moment it was as if the veil of life was pulling back and his black orbs were looking into what lay beyond death. He sensed the soul of Franz, sensed it being dragged away into the next step, the eternal binding of the worldâ€™s falsely constructed order. But then, for a brief moment, there was a sensation in the veil, a separation and Jinâ€™li felt a pulling away. The miqoâ€™te had no way of knowing if Franz had been successful in denying the enslavement death had sought to bring him into, but there had been an attempt at resistance, an attempt at true freedom and the miqoâ€™teâ€™s expressionless face split into the smallest of smiles for a brief second before it returned to its blank state.

The large crow had hopped onto the dead manâ€™s back. Jinâ€™li was slowly pulling the hood of his coat back over his head and he picked up the mask once more. The runt slowly limped for the door, the porcelain mask sliding down his face and cutting him off from the world. The raven inside the room cawed. Jinâ€™li paused. He looked down at the bird and the bleeding corpse on the floor. He nodded at the crow as his free hand took the door knob.

â€œLeave nothing to find.â€ Jinâ€™li said as he closed the door. He heard the sounds of flapping wings as the birds burst into the room and began feasting on the dead Franzâ€™s remains like a pack of ravenous hounds. Jinâ€™li left them to their feasting.

As the miqoâ€™te neared the stares, a worried face peeked out of one of the other rooms. The face was white with fright. IT was obvious the man had heard the gunshots. Calmly, Jinâ€™li produced a bag of coins and tossed them at the door.

â€œGil for a stilled tongue, seems fair, yes?â€

The man nodded, seized the coins and slammed the door, looking it behind him. Jinâ€™li continued his walk, his can clicking.

**Unnamed Mercenary** · **02-15-2015, 03:33 AM**

It was a truly horrible feeling, waking up after having been killed. As many parts of his body as he was aware of ached from the magicks used to rebuild himself. In a way, it was the worst pain of his life, but it was the only pain heâ€™d experienced in this life, if one wanted to be overly specific.

A bell after awaking, he had not yet moved from the bed. Eyes still closed because it was painful to even exert the energy to open them. With every breath, he could feel the surrounding tissue expand and contract, the pain of stretching muscles that had never been used. Would it have been a cynical thought to relate the pain to being worse enough he felt like he could die? Or rather, there were so many thoughts on death. Dying. The pain of what he would call being birthed from the aether. Such should have been impossible, but the pain was real. And unless the afterlife was somehow identical to Kircheâ€™s cottage, he was very sure he was alive.

Franz had not left the house for multiples suns, having been glad it had all the supplies needed to survive for an extended time. The first few days had been painful. Even the smallest of movements seemed impossible. Slowly, he had worked on recovering mobility. This morning was the first that he felt may be feasible to leave the house in.

He needed new supplies, and returning to Limsa Lominsa would not be an option. And staying in the forest...there were not many weapons to find. Lances were much too slow, and a bow was simply...archaic. As much as heâ€™d stopped being fond of Ulâ€™dah, it was the only viable choice.

Jin'li would be located after he'd restocked supplies.

Askier · **02-17-2015, 04:10 PM**

Jinâ€™li sat on a bench overlooking the sea. It had been a busy few days. The miqoâ€™te had been flexing his influence subtly, employing the sorts of persons he saw fit to carry out his required orders so carefully. That part had gone well.

If the death of Franz in any way bothered him, the emotions would never reach Jinâ€™lis stoic mind, which regulated and cleansed itself of unwanted emotion with a veraciousness most could hardly dream possible. Jinâ€™liâ€™s lack of emotion was a choice, one he had made back as a young man, just as his self-castration was of his own desire. Many might baulk at his life choices, but considering he had been just a slave back then, those were the only things he had any control over at all.

But, while Franz was not on his mind, the Lady Grimsong was. Their meeting had been a chanced one. Unexpected for certain. Though Jinâ€™li had seen a chance to gain an ally in her and had attempted to offer her a deal: her freedom from her former puppeteer in exchange for her help. A fair trade. And she had almost taken the bait. She had nibbled so hungrily at it, but in the end, her personality just would not permit her to accept it. Jinâ€™li could have killed her then and there, but she had carried something. Something remarkably eye catching, though she had acted as if she had nothing unique in her arms at the time.

In fact, Jinâ€™li had missed it initially, so well she played it. But he had caught on at the end. And now his birds followed her, reporting to him her movements. In fact, the number of ravens and crows had increased in the city since his arrival, and their white, bird droppings were becoming as numerous as the dung from the seagulls.

The initial stages of his plans were nearly complete though. He had already established lines of communication with several of the old Garlean arms dealers Adin had once used to arm his own, shadow army. Imperial, surplus weapons always sold well on the black market. Jinâ€™li was just positioning himself to be the sole seller of Imperial arms in Limsa and eventually Eorzea. Already he had obtained three galleons he would be using to ship the goods in once arrangements were made. But before he went that far, he needed two more things. A series of warehouses to house the weapons, and a certain black mage to apply one last touch to them before the runt would begin selling. Until them, Jinâ€™li was contenting himself with setting his pieces on the board, and crunching out any potential competition. Though, honestly, there wasnâ€™t much. Garlean arms werenâ€™t, exactly, common in Eorzea and those trafficking them were even rarer. But, if Jinâ€™li had anything to do with that, that would change soon enough, and the balance of power would shift with the change.

War was a business. And Jinâ€™li only cared about one commodity: death.

Askier · **02-18-2015, 08:58 PM**

Pilus Prior Adetck von Welchmier was not the sort of man who enjoyed having his time wasted, especially now that he was reaching his senior years. His face was deep with wrinkles and the white beard that covered his face was neatly braided as it hung to his chest. His bald head was cleanly shaven, polished and reflected the lights of the oil lanterns that burned around him on the shipâ€™s deck.

The Pilus Prior was dressed in his military garb but had placed a handkerchief over his nose and mouth. The smell of the rotting whale blubber from the whaling ship stunk to the high heavens and the older male had already determined that he was going to need to burn the boots he now wore upon returning to civilized ports.

The only reason he was here, now, aboard a festering ship in the middle of the ocean, instead of his richly furnished home, was the mysterious letter he had received. In the letter he had been asked to meet here to conduct a business deal, one he should attend or would discover certain details of hisâ€¦nightlife would be made very openly public to his political opponents inside the Empire.

So here he stood, waiting for the crew to find this Ciâ€™ya Laytier below deck.

â€œBloody miqoâ€™te.â€ the hyur growled, his three eyes narrowing in disgust. â€œVermin aught to be-â€œ

â€œBe what?â€ came a voice.

Welchmier turned and blinked as his eyes came to rest on one of the thickest, tallest and most heavily muscled miqoâ€™tes he had ever seen. The maleâ€™s hair was cut short and he wore a battered Garlean uniform with the insignia marking him as a Centurian Immune on the breast. A green jacket, covered in muck hung over the uniform

The male miqoâ€™te yawned and began to pick his nose vigorously as he spoke, his voice slow and thick with a deep drawl.

â€œWell, meow, I did ask ya what yah was sayinâ€™â€ the mioâ€™te said as he pulled a booger out and flicked it onto the floor. The miqoâ€™teâ€™s green eyes shone like emeralds in the dim light as they blinked lazily.

â€œI could have your head for this!â€ Welchmier snapped indignantly, slamming his foot down, his sword rattling in its scabbard. â€œYou are a Garlena soldier, an inferior officer, and a lower breed. How dare you take that tone with me. You will address me as my title demands.â€

â€œLook,â€ the miqoâ€™te named Ciâ€™ya Laytier started slowly in his lazy drawl before he yawned and continued. The miqoâ€™te had deep bags under his eyes and looked like he hadnâ€™t slept in weeks. Truth is he had been asleep for the past twelve hours.

â€œI knows who ya are, I knows what I should be doinâ€™ and I was gettingâ€™ to that, but then ya threw a fit. Ya canâ€™t order me around cause I ainâ€™t in your unit, and if ya donâ€™t stop giving me a headache with yer constant complainâ€™ Iâ€™m gonna take myself back to Limsa and then back to my unit. Iâ€™m only here helping out this Trythian Oul feller cause he payinâ€™ me and needed a favor. So do ya wanna clam up and listen to the offer about making money for yer surplus weapons or ya want to keep puffing yerself up like a constipated canary?â€

Ciâ€™ya had begun chewing on a wad of whale fat he had stored in his mouth while he had slept and he gazed at the Garlean hyur through half open eyes. He was clearly bored and could take this situation or leave it. In fact, Ciâ€™ya was normally incredibly respectful of superior officers in uniform, though he hadnâ€™t seen the homeland since his unit was mostly destroyed and he had been serving under the command of Marcus Valerius Corvus inside Eorzea for the pat six years.

Welchmier went livid and his fist shook at the mannerisms this inferior officer was displaying and if it werenâ€™t for the fact that whomever had sent him had more dirt about the Pilus Prior than his own wife did, Welchmier would have spilled Ciâ€™yaâ€™s guts all over the gut covered deck.

â€œSpeak fast then, before you lose your tongue.â€ Welchmier spat.

Ciâ€™ya spat his wad of whale fat onto the floor and nodded.

â€œWhelp, alright then. Point ya need to know is Mr. Trythian Oul be wanting to purchase yer surplus Garlean weapons and tech to black market in Eorzea.â€ Ciâ€™ya shrugged. â€œAbout it right there. Ya ship it whole sale, he splits price 50-50.â€

â€œWhy is this Trythian Oul wanting to make this sort of deal?â€ Welchmier said slowly, his anger for the massive miqoâ€™te diminishing slightly.

â€œHells if I know.â€ Ciâ€™ya answered with a lazy blink of his green eyes. â€œHe contacted me by letter and basically made me meet with some person of his and then be here to make the deal. Needed Garlean to Garlean talk or something I suppose. After this Iâ€™m cleared to go back to my unit once I give him yer answer.â€

â€œSo you have no reason to trust him?â€ Welchmier said suspicious suddenly.

â€œWell, he did send a chest of gold for ye and promise of more once the first shipment I got here under my belt comes in.â€

Ciâ€™ya reached down the front of his trousers and pulled out a piece of paper after adjusting himself for a moment. Ciâ€™ya handed the parchment to Welchmier, who took it and held it at armâ€™s length from himself like it was a dead rat.

â€œCharming.â€ Welchmier remarked in disgust. But his tone shifted as he read the order.

â€œYou certain this is what he wants?â€

â€œHells if I know.â€ Ciâ€™ya shrugged lazily. â€œIâ€™m just a messenger here, like I done said like three times now or somethinâ€™.â€

â€œTestament to the Emperorâ€™s army you are.â€ Welchmier said sarcastically as he read over the order and where it was to be delivered and when. Welchmier was wary of this Trythian Oul. But the idea of being able to ship in the last generation of Imperial weapons, most of which was obsolete and sitting in surplus storage for no reason was too good a chance to pass up. Welchmier had never seen combat. In fact, all he did was manage warehouses full of munitions and such. He held the record books to some of the largest weapons dumps in the Empire and if some of those weapons got slipped under the table into Eorzea to slip gold into his personal accounts and increase his spending power, Welchmier would not find it unpatriotic to do so.

In truth, Welchmier had been looking for a chance to do this for years but most in the Empire already had weapons like what he could offer. But Eorzea, that back water shit hole, was so far behind the Empire technologically, that Welchmier shipping the arms could make gunblades a common sight within the city-states. And that was a fun concept. And a profitable one. Especially if this Trythian Oul was one of the major players on the black market at the moment.

Trythian certainly seemed super informed. He obviously had ties within the Empire to send this degenerate miqoâ€™te to do his bidding.

Part of Welchmier said this was a bad idea but his greed was stronger.

â€œTell this, Trythian Oul we have terms. I will bring the initial order to the location he specified with my armed escort. If I am satisfied with that exchange, we might do business together.â€

A crow, that had been watching them, suddenly flew off, squawking loudly.

Ciâ€™ya Laytier nodded and then yawned as he stretched.

â€œVery well. Iâ€™ll let him know before I get back to my unit.â€

â€œAnd what unit is that, so that I might send the court-martial paperwork in myself.â€ Welchmier threatened darkly.

Ciâ€™ya looked at the hyur and then lifted his left arm and flexed. The miqoâ€™teâ€™s bicep swelled into a mass even a roe might be proud off and blinked as he kissed the muscle mass. Around him the small crew of the whaler all shifted their eyes to the Pilus Prior and his small entourage.

â€œWhy donâ€™t ya get yer fancy self back on the ship, sir, and back home?â€ Ciâ€™ya said in his drawl. â€œBefore ya get hog tied and heaved over into the water after we shave yer beard with a rusty razor?â€

Welchmier glared daggers but spun and stormed off to the brow connecting this ship to his own. Welchmier, despite his bravado was no fighter, and was not stupid enough to waste time and a good uniform on trash like Ciâ€™ya Laytier.

Askier · **02-20-2015, 06:54 PM**

â€œSo, the deal is on?â€ Jinâ€™li remarked in his dead voice, the black eyes hollow pits behind the mask. He currently stood in the shadows of an alley, gazing out with an intense stare at the docks in lower Limsa. Seagulls cawed over head as a few black crows flew among them. Beside the entrance to the alley was the massive shirtless form of Ciâ€™ya Laytier. His huge arms were crossed over his broad chest and his abdominal muscles where tanned and chiseled as they descended toward the belt that suspended his paints just below the navel.

The massive Garlean nodded as he leaned against the wall, pretending he wasnâ€™t speaking to the mysterious figure behind him in the alley as sailors and fishers walked past.

â€œYup. The man was interested in yer coin fer sure. Though doubt he would like to see my ugly mug again. Thinks Iâ€™m not real officer like.â€ Ciâ€™ya flicked his tail as he watched a fish dart out of the water and splash back down. The miqoâ€™te knew he could have ripped the hyurâ€™s head clean off and that was enough. Ciâ€™ya was as alpha male as it came in his head. Money didnâ€™t mean much to him. Raw punching power did.

â€œThen our deal is over. Tyrthian Oul thanks you for your efforts. Once Trythian Oul has made his deal and finalized it, his people shall contact you.â€ Jinâ€™li said flatly as he leaned on his cane.

â€œSo yer gonna make sure this fella keeps his end of the bargain up?â€ Ciâ€™ya said in his deep drawl as his eyes narrowed just a tad. He didnâ€™t trust this Trythian Oul or whomever this weird miqoâ€™te was whom had hired him to act as a Garlean liaison to the various arms merchants operating within the Empire but he was willing to play his part. â€œYou sure my superiorâ€™s unit is gonna get the supplies it needs here to continue its mission? We done had some trouble gettingâ€™ supply lines established after all.

Jinâ€™liâ€™s tail flicked a bit and he blinked as he turned.

â€œTrythain Oul does not tell falsehoods. Your unit will receive the agreed upon equipment as agreed upon while Trythian Oul will sell the remaining weapons to those whom so desire to purchase the weapons you will use on them.â€

â€œThen why donchya make us buy â€˜em too?â€ Ciâ€™ya inquired as his eyes were caught by a swaying female form and watched it walk away.

â€œBecause, Trythian Oul is in the business of war. And if there is no one killing, why would anyone need weapons like these? The more people killed, the more Trythian Oul will sell.â€

â€œThatâ€™s a pretty cold sorta business plan if I ever heard one.â€ Ciâ€™ya said slowly, his eyes losing sight of the female as she turned a corner and he looked back at the sea that glistened in the afternoon sun.

â€œSmart business is heartless. And when you deal in death, being heartless makes you the best.â€ Jinâ€™li walked away into the shadows of the alley and was gone.

Ciâ€™ya grunted as he heard the cane clacking away and shrugged. He was a soldier who did his part. He was doing his job as a supply officer and getting his unit the additional weapons they needed to continue their operations. If that required acting as a sort of advertising agency while performing their duties, Ciâ€™ya was remarkably unconcerned about that.

The hulking miqoâ€™te shrugged his shoulders off the wall and began walking down the street. Now where had that pretty female gone?

Askier · **02-21-2015, 11:10 PM**

â€œDead. This one requests that you be utterly sure with what you are saying.â€ Jinâ€™li stated calmly as he gazed at the raven seated on his desk. Jinâ€™li stood in the middle of the room, his black eyes fixed on the bird as the miqoâ€™teâ€™s hands held a broom. Jinâ€™li had refused to allow the staff of the â€œDrowining Wenchâ€ to clean his room, feeling they did not clean it well enough for his tastes and he was currently three hours into cleaning his room. On average the shadow of a living miqoâ€™te cleaned for roughly four hours a day.

â€œIs sure! Is sure! Is sure! Dead! Dead! Dead!â€ the raven cawed harshly and Jinâ€™li blinked. The discovery that â€˜Fireâ€™ was dead was an unhappy development. He had needed her to deliver his messages to continue escalating the tensions he needed to perpetuate death and chaos. The male frowned and then went to his desk and pulled out pen and ink. He wrote, over the course of about an hour, three letters. Once they were complete, he wrapped them neatly and stamped them shut with a seal.

As Jinâ€™li rose, three crows hopped on his desk and Jinâ€™li explained to them their instructions on how to find each of the three persons needed with each letter. Once the birds understood as best as their dark minds could fathom, they seized the letters and took to the skies to seek out their intended targets. Jinâ€™li then took his broom in his hand again and resumed his cleaning.

Jinâ€™li might be insane, but he kept a wonderfully clean room.

Askier · **03-12-2015, 11:33 PM**

The man was dressed in all white and would have cute a clean figure.Â But he was covered in blood.Â Lots of it. His arms, hands, and chest were all crimson.Â But it was not from a murder.

The man had just delivered a new born into the world and the hyur was grinning like a fool, his bearded face taking on a kind expression as he heard the babies cry silence into sleep.Â The babe was a healthy girl and both mother and child slept as the doctor collected his belongings and lefts the room, his bag in hand.Â

He stepped out of the hut at the edge of the water.Â The gathered family looked at him and the hyur smiled and nodded.

"It's a girl and she will live. Both of them." An excited cheer went up from the crowd and several people walked forward to thank him.Â When the doctor had arrived, the woman had been with complications.Â The child had tried to come out feet first. But the doctor had managed with his skills, to change the babes course and save the mother.

All in all the hyur was pleased.

He quietly excused himself and began walking away from the crowd after he gave them instructions on how to treat the woman.Â They already knew, he assumed.Â Children were spawned like flies here in this part of the land.Â But no matter.

The road back to his home followed the ocean and he had made a good deal of progress before he suddenly stopped as a black raven flew down, dropped a scroll off before him and took to the sky.

The doctor blinked behind his glasses at the spectacle and, after a moment of indecision, picked up the letter.Â He looked around and, with bloody hands, unrolled the letter.

He read the first four lines and then hurled the document away from him before he looked at the raven that was staring at him with glowing red eye from a nearby branch.

"Hello, Doctor." the bird cawed.

The hyur turned and ran.

Askier · **04-07-2015, 05:52 PM**

The boy had bought the gunblade in the ghetto's of Limsa.Â The hyur lad with dark hair had needed something, anything.Â And the white haired miqo'te that had sold it to him had been so willing to help.Â So...kind! How rare a thing.Â To have parted with such a fine weapon for onlyÂ a handful of gil...

The boy could have cried if he wasn't so gripped by terror and fear. Fear for his sister.

The bastards had her.Â They had taken her last night from their small apartment down by the docks because they couldn't pay the protection money. They were gonna take her, enslave her in a brothel, get their money that way.Â He had to kill the two brutes.

He knew where they would be. Its where he always delivered their weekly protection payments.Â But this time, this day, the boy was going to pay in bullets.Â

He had never used the weapon before, but he knew it was point and pull trigger and stab.

The boy's heart hammered in his chest, lungs filling quickly as he ran through the streets.Â He came to the small door.Â A sign in weathered paint said it was closed.

The boy's boot disagreed.Â The boy kicked the door open, tearing the latch off.Â Two figures turned, shouting in surprise.Â The boy didn't stop. He aimed the silver gunblade and was screaming as he pulled the trigger.

So great was the boy's blood lust that he failed to see the rune etched into the side of the blade glowing a dull purple as the weapon fired.Â He failed to see the flashes of ethereal light that glinted for the briefest of milliseconds as the bullet hit before the hint of something sinister and magical was lost as blood erupted from the men's bodies.

The gun shots subsided and there was screaming from inside theÂ hut. One of the men was only wounded, not dead, but the boy was stabbing away with the blade, blood oozing over the floor.

On the roof of the building, a crow cawed triumphantly as it's glowing red eyes says the dead souls departing for the afterlife.Â The birds glowing red eyes saw as the souls were seized up and kept from crossing into Nald'thal's domain and locked away.Â The bird cawed again and took to the skies.

There were others weapons with the rune circulating through Eorzea now, and there were so many souls to watch die.

Askier · **04-16-2015, 04:56 PM**

Darkness.Â Shadow. Nothingness. Freedom of all restrictions.

These were the true states of the universe.Â The innate. The uncontrolled.Â The purity called chaos.Â Trapped outside the false walls of this "creation" it dwelt, pressing and pushing, chewing little tendrils of entropy into the small cracks it could create.Â It was the universe as it always had been.Â How it should be once more.

Jin'li opened his black eyes as the bitter mountain winds tore as his black garments.Â Clouds hung low and a frigid wind howled out of them as the low pressure system battered itself upon the peaks of the north.Â The pale albino blinked and feasted his black eyes upon Ishgard sitting far and below in the distance.

The hollow figure of Jin'li continued to stare as the ravens behind him cawed loudly as they continued to pick the meat from the bones of a dead figure, who, not moment ago, had had their soul torn from their meaty coil and hurtled into what waited beyond.

The rumors coming from Ishgard interested the little miqo'te and as his black eyes continued to gaze upon the sealed city, dark plots were given life inside the blasphemous little miqo'te's vile mind.

Askier · **04-27-2015, 05:21 PM**

"You can't make me do this." the hyur glared through his goggles at the white-haired miqo'te that was gazing back back at him with unblinking, black eyes.Â Between them rested a massive table covered in Bunsonburners, vials, tubes, and countless more alchemy tools.

"This is true." Jin'li conceded in his emotionless voice as he swept his gaze around the room.Â They were in a large, stone building that housed all of the research of the hyur that Jin'li calmly referred to as "The Doctor."Â The hyur had once worn a different face, but the individual's mind was what the albino miqo'te wanted.

"Though, why resist?Â This could be your greatest truim-"

"I already achieved that working for you." The hyur snarled.Â "I did the impossible.Â You, you should be dead!Â And what you ask of me now... its beyond murder!Â Its blasphemous science! It defies nature, it-"

"Defies nature, my dear "Doctor"?"Â Jin'li's soulless, black eyes swept back to transfix the hyur with his blank stare.Â "This one wants it to.Â This one desires-"

"What you desire is not my concern!" the hyur snapped.Â "I'm done with you. You defy death, kidnap me, and now plan to sin against all concepts of morality!"

"This one would ask that you stop interrupting him." Jin'li blinked slowly.Â "It's very rude."

The hyur stammered at the statement and Jin'li continued in a slow, monotone pattern:

"As this one was saying, you were brought to free those who have been imprisoned by these-"

"Imprisoned?" they hyur scoffed.Â "Just as you did me? I'm not here of my own will."

Jin'li's face was blank.Â Whatever thoughts were forming behind the miqo'te's black eyes could not be guessed upon.

After several minutes of ominous silence, Jin'li lifted his cane from the floor and pointed it towards the door.

"This one does not wish for you to feel imprisoned, dear "Doctor".Â You may leave, then, if you so wish."

The hyur gazed at the tiny miqo'te from behind his glasses.Â The "Doctor" knew better than most of the capable treachery this mad little male harbored inside his ruined mind.Â But the unease of being in the miqo'te's presence was stronger than the alarm bells ringing in the "Doctor's" mind.

The hyur slowly edged towards the door, never taking his eyes off the black, onyx optics that watched him.Â The Doctor seized the door handle and stepped outside into the night as he slammed the door behind him.

Jin'li heard the screaming that begin the instant the door shut as the thing he had left there attacked the hyur.Â It took nearly a minute for the agonized screaming to fade into bloody gargles and then silence.Â Through it all, Jin'li watched the growing puddle of crimson leak into the room under the door without moving.

Eventually, the male limped over to a large desk, covered in the late hyur's research.Â Jin'li flipped through one book slowly before saying aloud:

"This one seems in need of a new scientist. Perhaps the next will not be so rude as to interrupt all the time."

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The Kindly Mr. Epinoch (Semi-Closed)

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