RPC has moved! These pages have been kept for historical purposes

Gegenji · **09-30-2016, 02:03 PM**

The first thing that always hit him when he came to Limsa was the smell, most notably the overwhelming scent of the ocean that permeated everything, even all the way up on the airship landing. In fact, that was usually how Chachanji was able to know they were arriving, and it only got more varied as he descended the elevators. The stink of fish, of the working man and woman going about their business; the wafting fragrances of food coming from the open-air stalls and whipped on the winds from the elegant extravagance that was the Bismarck. His nose was nowhere near as sharp as a Miqo'te's, but Limsa had a unique smell that he could take in nonetheless - even if he was missing some of the finer nuanced scents that a more feline nostril might pick up.

Second - and perhaps more acute for one as long in ear as the young Gegenji - was the sounds of Limsa. The constant ebb and flow of the ocean joining that familiar scent along with the occasional cries of the seabirds, a constant reminder across two senses of the city-state's lifeblood. Its other driving force - its people - also had their own unique sound that, while similar to the those of his current home Ul'dah, was also noticeably different in a way that was oh so very Limsan. The slang and dialects intermingled in even the most casual of conversations - with some individuals seeming to be speaking some other manner of Eorzean altogether - had been one of the many aspects that had gone into the Doman's "Eorzean accent" back when the sudden influx of Othardians was a much more tense and heated topic of debate. Just like the smells, the sounds of the seaside citystate were whipped upward to the landing upon the winds, and they only grew louder - if muted briefly - as he descended the elevator into Limsa proper.

And in that cacophony of life, more sounds made themselves more apparent. One of which was a melody that the Lalafell knew far too well, that resonated with his soul in a steady rhythm like the beat of a heart or the percussion of a drum. The steady song of steel striking steel, the chorus of creation cast forth from the cavernous belly of the Smithing Guilds. It was they who had sent for him, bade him make the journey from his own personal smithy nestled in the industrial district of the Jewel. And he had come without second thought.

Not just because he was asked to, though that was not an unfair assumption to make given Chachanji's nature to help (or "halp," depending on how heavily he was leaning on his falsified and sometimes over-the-top accent) those who needed his aid. But because of the nature of the request. Apparently they had gotten in a Doman who was being rather nitpicky about a job - though the nature of what exactly she was having issue with was left vague, perhaps due to a lack of knowledge of Doman culture and their sensibilities. So, to appease her, they had called for one of the best Doman smiths they had ready access to: Chachanji Gegenji.

Not that the little guy looked much the part at first glance - a freckled baby-face topped with a messy crop of fluffy green hair that had been dyed in such a way as to look like he had a light layer of snow atop his dome. At least the garb seemed a sight more appropriate: swaddled in the apron and usual trappings of one of his profession, even if they were colored in such a way as to evoke images of sunflowers or a sunny field than a glowering forge. As with such things, though, the truth of the matter became more clear when one looked closer; the stout Lalafell's open shirt and short sleeves putting on display a more burly musculature than what was commonly seen on the rotund race. And the hammer strapped to his back - looking like it was sized more for the hand of a Roegadyn or an Auri male than a wee Dunesfolk - showed signs of frequent use, implying that Chachanji had made extensive use of the thing.

It was this potentially questionable-looking fellow that pushed open the doors to the Smithing Guilds, his violet eyes seeking out the Guildmaster through the heat haze and smoke that was ever-present within its walls. Accustomed to such obscurities, it was not hard for the Lalafell to pick out the Hyur as he continued entertaining who he expected was the Doman in question - a raven-haired Raen woman draped in white and green. Not that the former would stay quite so pristine in the clinging ash of the Guild. Chachan himself had to tend to his going-out clothes rather regularly to deal with the unrelenting dust and slag and the lingering smell of metal and fire. One of the drawbacks of living where you work, but that was neither here nor there.

"Mr. Brithael!" the Lalafell chimed, his voice raised to pierce the percussive pandemonium of the facility as he waddled his way over to the pair of them. "Hope I didn't keep ya too long. I took th' first airship outta Ul'dah once I got yer call ov'r th' linkpearl. So, what can I help yas wit?"

Ayaka · **09-30-2016, 10:28 PM**

The skies were clear and not a cloud was in sight. So of course the Lominsan residents and adventurers alike took full advantage of this perfect day. Traders called out for potential buyers of their wares while customers haggled like there was no tomorrow. Adventurers could be heard laughing and calling out their mates as they set out for their quests and leves. Dozens and dozens of people from different city-states flocked the entirety of Limsa Lominsa and some were still arriving as a ship docked and lowered its gangplank to unload its passengers. A sight to behold indeed, especially to those that aren't used to the life by the sea. A certain Au Ra was awed a few days ago, however, right then, there was nothing on her mind but the Blacksmith guild as she made a beeline towards their building.

She has been visiting the place for days now, returning with more specific alternations with her order. It was perhaps a few suns after, that she thought that the Blacksmith guild finally gave up on her. Fortunately for the Raen, they only informed her of a smith that would be arriving sometime soon to handle her order perfectly. Ayaka couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief at that news. The woman didn't know where else to go. She was told that the Naldiq and Vymelli's were the best of the best in the continent. And while she was certain that there were private ones that were equally skilled, she'd rather pick a public service and lay low. Hiding in plain sight was something she was good at.

It was an added relief when she was told that this specific smith would be able to take care of her blades without any problems--The two blades that were the cause of grumbles and nightmares of the Blacksmith guild for days. And from what she has observed, the other workers found themselves relaxing after hearing the name of the smith that was going to be sent. If she remembered correctly... The smith was called Chachanji Gegenji. But from what she has learned while living in Eorza, such names were given to...

Said name was called out by the Guildmaster as the Raen turned towards the direction where the Eorzan was waving his hand at.

First thought: Small.

But after taking a quick brief look at the entirety of the smith--of the Lalafellan smith--Ayaka of the Yatsurugi family had to retract her first impression. Underneath that rather adorable and unimposing round face was a body that could most likely lift a Hyur or mayhap a Roegadyn if he so wishes to--Maybe even break it. Not to mention the smith sported bright competent eyes that seemed to know exactly why they were summoned. She shouldn't have let her first impression sway her even if it was but a brief second. That was very unlike of her.

So while Guildmaster Brithael spoke to the lalafell, bright green eyes curiously observed the two smiths, outer rings glowing steadily. And when green met with violet, a small smile broke across the Au Ra's dainty face.

"Good day, Mr. Gegenji. I was told that you will be taking over my order?" asked Ayaka, raising her voice so that it could be heard over the sounds of metal clashing against one another, though it was still too soft to be considered raised. And yes, this Au Ra with the innocent face, clipping her hair behind her horn with a petite body was the same client that was making everyone in the guild pull out their hair; the same person that made the guildmaster call out one of their best just to assist her.

"Ah, my apologies, I am Ayaka of the Yatsurugi family. Please take good care of me." added the dark haired Raen, her accent barely showing as she held her journal before her with both hands and gave the two a traditional Doman bow.

Gegenji · **10-01-2016, 11:00 AM**

Brithael was... less than helpful regarding the situation at hand than Chachanji would've liked. As the Au Ra observed the two smiths conversing, she'd find that the Hyur made mention of the twin blades, but would get caught up in mentioning all the changes and adjustments Ayaka had requested of them. The Guildmaster, to his credit, tried to put a positive spin on the situation and present all the work they had done in a joking manner, but - to someone who had worked with the man on numerous occasions - it was somewhat obvious to the Lalafell that Brithael was reaching his wit's end. He had even been able to tell over the initial linkpearl conversation that had brought him here, though the underlying exasperation seemed so much more intense in person. The Hyur's relief was almost palpable as the little Doman nodded in understanding and tapped a closed fist to his chest, reassuring the man that he had the situation handled before turning to address the client herself.

"Ah, yeah, hallo hallo," the Lalafell responded with a smile and another nod of his green-haired head, albeit a bit awkwardly. He hadn't been sure if she was going to default to Eorzean or Doman, having dealt with clients from his homeland who had done both in nearly equal measure depending on their confidence with the language or even just preference. As such, it was always a bit of a hurdle at first meeting to figure out which tongue would be utilized for their conversation. His next words were more confident with that overcome: "'n yeah, tha's me. 've worked on repairin' 'n adjustin' me fair share'a Doman blades, so hopefully we can figger this out 'n get ya somethin' yer happy wit."

"Chachanji Gegenji, nice ta meetcha." Her bow was returned with a Doman greeting of the Lalafell's own - done with a practiced ease and grace that belied his stout form. "'n I'll do me absolute best. On me honor as a Gegenji."

With introductions exchanged, he quickly fell back into a more relaxed posture and a gentle smile that all seemed rather natural for the small fellow. He looked ready to speak more, but it was interrupted by Brithael's return. The Guildmaster had slipped away at some point during the introductions, and the reason why was made quite clear once he was back. In his gloved hands he held a package that was almost certainly Ayaka's ongoing project, and he all but shoved the thing into the Lalafell's own gloved grip - more than happy to be rid of this particular headache. A few quick words about how busy he was and reassurances to the Raen that Chachanji would have this situation handled in a jiffy, and the Hyur was quick to retreat back into the smoke and fire of the forges. Which, of course, elicited a bit of an awkward little chuckle from the Dunesfolk himself.

"A-ah, well... seems like ya've really been givin' them all a run'round." He shifted the package under one arm. "So, I wanna get a good look at these in a good light, 'n it'd prolly be better ta talk 'bout whatcha want done away from all th' work goin' on in 'ere anyroad. So, um... wanna move ta th' bridges outside'a 'ere? Or someplace else more fittin' fer havin' a talk?"

Ayaka · **10-03-2016, 01:39 AM**

Ayaka's confidence on the lalafell increased tenfold as soon as she heard the little one spoke of his experiences with Doman blades. Hopefully he'll do a better job with the repair and modifications she wished to be done on the blades compared to the others. Or was she just a little bit too biased due to the fact that the newly assigned smith to her, executed an elegant Doman bow? Perhaps it was a bit of both... Was she being racist? Or was that her simply admiring the other?

With her musings dismissed to the side, bright Raen eyes followed the package that was exchanged between the two smiths--Ayaka reckoned that it was her blades. She kept quiet as the woman only listened to the two, though her attention was mostly on the parcel, distracted by its presence. When the lalafell finally spoke to her, the Au Ra shifted her attention smoothly, giving the green haired male a gentle smile once more. "I think that would be a wonderful idea." A glance to the guild master who sported a bright smile on his face, "Thank you very much for the assistance, Mr. Brithael. I hope you and everyone else here will have a wonderful day." Another bow as the Raen took a few steps before her small companion, pushing the door open so that Chachanji may pass after.

Ayaka had her back to the building but she was certain that she heard, if not sensed everyone letting out a sigh of relief in their departure.

"Ah, I really hope they wouldn't dislike me for such things though Mr. Gegenji, if you won't mind... May we head to the Bismarck if not, mayhap the..." A pause as she tapped her chin. "Ah, right! The Drowning Wench to discuss things? I actually have a few more suggestions to the adjustments." finished Ayaka as she found herself squinting her eyes when she took a step outside, the sun still high up in the sky and the smell of the forgery leaving her senses as it was replaced with a blast of the strong scent of the sea. Green eyes met with the figure of the lalafell during it, Ayaka seemingly lost in thought as she gazed at the other.

Chachanji was definitely going to be busy with that order.

"Maybe even get ourselves something to eat?" continued the Raen shortly after. "I heard you tell the guild master that you came as soon as possible so I was worried that you missed a meal just for that." A tilt of her head as she tucked some stray strands of hair behind her horn once more, keeping it from being thrown about in the wind.

Gegenji · **10-03-2016, 09:15 AM**

"Ah, dun mind them," Chachan responded cheerfully as hiked the package a bit farther up into his armpit. He was either oblivious to the wringer she had put them all through, or actively ignoring it in an attempt to stay positive. Either was fairly likely. "Doman metalwork's pretty confusin' stuff fer outsiders anyroad - thanks ta a lot of th' finer stuff like metal-foldin' techniques bein' kept family secrets 'n whatnot - so add tryin' ta make changes on top'a that 'n ya can see why anyone'd get a lil' frustrated."

The little Lalafell shivered a bit as the doors were pushed open and the salty sea winds whipped into the stifling smoke of the Guildhouse. He had quickly acclimated to the heat of the place - as one who spends their livelihood in such conditions would - which made the weather outside seem that much chillier by comparison, even if the Dunesfolk had only been out of it for less than half a bell's time. He recovered quickly, however, with a small shake of the head and distracting himself from the temperature change by returning his attentions to the Au Ra as she fell into step next to him. Her suggestions aided quite a bit in the latter, as suggested by the wide-eyed expression Chachanji gave her.

"Th' Bismarck? W-well, if'n they have th' space 'n ya have th' gil ta burn," he awkwardly agreed, rubbing at the back of his neck. The Bismarck was certainly one of the finest eateries in Limsa Lominsa, and had the popularity - and prices - to match it. Chachan had spent nearly half his winnings from his singular Grindstone victory just to reserve a space there for a party moons back, so the idea of just dropping in to the place seemed foreign to him. Though, to be fair, most of his visits to the restaurant had been in the company of at least a dozen other people.

The Wench, conversely, was more of the common man's establishment. Its crowding was usually less due to the quality to the food and more the affordable prices. Of course, there were other such taverns and eateries that dotted the seaside city-state - such as the Missing Member and the various hole-in-the-wall pubs and food stalls littered about Hawker's Alley - but the Wench's added proximity to the Mizzenmast Inn made it far more convenient for the many travelers that frequented Limsa's streets. It was also the closer of the two establishments to the Smithing Guilds, sitting a short trek across the Aftcastle.

"B-but yeah, gettin' somethin' ta eat dun sound too bad, if'n..." The statement was cut off by a low grumbling from the Lalafell's gut. Which elicited an embarrassed little chuckle and a sudden digging about his person before producing a strip of jerky from one of his many pouches. The treat was rather quickly shoved into his mouth, as if just doing that would quell the rumblings of his stomach as he finished weakly: "Err, i-if'n ya dun mind."

Ayaka · **10-04-2016, 11:24 AM**

The lalafell's reaction to her suggestion made the Au Ra pause for a splitsecond. Maybe she shouldn't have been too eager to please the smith. She was new to Limsa Lominsa but she at least had an idea about the establiments in the city-state. Perhaps Ayaka should have suggested several more places for them to eat at but it was rather too late then. Who would have thought that she would make such an amateur mistake like that?

Ayaka was hoping that the careless mistake she just made wouldn't cause any sort of complications later on. Gegenji was her last safe option after all.

Such worries weren't seen on her face however as the Raen found herself letting out a soft giggle at the smith's reaction--rather, his stomach's. "Mhm, you're right about the vacancy problem but as for the gil one... Worry not, I have a few that I can spare." The Raen took the first step to moving to their location. "Those blades are just something very precious to me and I would really like it if it would be taken care of properly. I'm sure my dearest Father--may he rest in peace--would have desired the same as well." A short moment of silence came as the woman paused in her step, closing her eyes as if uttering a short prayer before resuming once more, turning her head to glance at her companion.

"If the Bismarck won't have us, we can always return to the Drowning Wench. I've had a few of their morning meals and some drinks as well during evenings. It's where I've spent my nights whilst waiting for the guild to finish my order." Ayaka said after as they neared the mentioned establishment, the smell of alcohol and food blending in with the scent of Lominsan air as the faint chatter of the patrons could be heard from within. She honestly wouldn't mind picking the place first as it was better to hide within plain sight but if she could please the smith with better food then there might be a possibility that the given service would be better.

"And maybe we can put more food in you." A slight tease from what the lalafell did earlier ago when he went and snacked on something. Ayaka's hand reached over to partly cover her mouth, a rather amused smile on her face. "We can't have you fainting out of hunger, yes?" Not that she can blame the smith considering she herself would have probably done the same if she packed some snacks with her.

Gegenji · **10-05-2016, 11:55 AM**

If Chachan had been hinting any deeper into the Bismarck suggestion or Ayaka's intentions beyond "it's ritzy and popular," he certainly didn't show it. Which could just as easily belie some great, calculating mind beneath that head of unkempt floof of green hair as it could be his words being presented at face value with no subterfuge whatsoever involved. Given the flustered and embarrassed look he gave her at her giggles, however, it was far likely the latter - hunching down a little to make himself seem smaller and less noticeable as he quietly chewed on the bit of jerky still in his mouth. The rest was surreptitiously tucked away for later as he straightened up a little bit.

"I-I, uh, wasn't implyin' ya didn't have th' gil'r nothin'..." he explained as he rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck, trying to dig himself out of the hole he thought he had made for himself after all that. "'s jus'... it's one'a those places folks usually plan ta go ta ahead'a time rather'n than a spur'a th' moment thin', y'know? Jus' caught me off-guard 's all... Th' place might ev'n have its own special section jus' fer walk-in customers, I 'unno!"

"As fer th' blades..." He switched topics rather quickly, seeming more in favor of - and more confident in - discussing his work rather than his social snafu, given the quickened recovery of stature and poise. For obvious reasons. "I know all 'bout how important those sortsa thin's are - 've refurbished chain mail that was a family heirloom, 'n I have a shield me Papa made me moons ago that I still keep wit me. Err, not right now a'course - it's a shield - b-but ya get what 'm sayin'. Point 's... I'll make sure they're done up all proper-like jus' like want."

"'n where ta eat, well..." He looked about as they drew closer to the Wench itself, his long ears wiggling a bit at the sounds of the place. "If'n ya like th' Wench, we're already right 'ere 'n can get right ta talkin' shop 'n gettin' fed..." His suggestion tapered off into silent embarrassment as she reminded him of his growling stomach. It was a beat or two before he insisted in his own awkward little murmur of a way: "'n-n I wouldn'ta fainted... 's-s why I carry th' snacks ta begin wit - 's fer if'n 'm hungry durin' work 'n stuff..."

Though, it would be hard not to get hungry with the scents wafting out from the depths of the tavern, carried along with the raucous noise of sailors and adventurers both swapping tales and partaking of both food and drink. The most overpowering of them - thankfully outweighing the less than delightful aroma of sailors who had spent a sun too many away from soap - was that of cooked fish, which would come to no surprise given the locale. A restaurant would have to be downright foolish to ignore the bounty set before them beneath the rolling waves - even the Bismarck's menu was rife with elegent seafood dishes like Bouillabaisse. The Wench, however, smelled of simpler, yet no less stomach-rumbling fare - of dagger soup and tuna miqo'bobs and apkallu omelettes.

"A-anyroad, I could go fer a miqo'bob 'r three meself so... um... ta th' Wench?"

Ayaka · **10-07-2016, 11:53 AM**

She listened while the lalafell spoke, intrigued by his rather heavy accent. Ayaka could thankfully understand the blacksmith--somewhat--but that didn't make her any less curious of what sort of combinations were merged altogether to create such a unique sounding intonation. A mix of Lominsan folks and Ul'dah resident perhaps? Mayhap the locals of the Twelveswood? Then again, she should probably double check the enunciation of each place considering not all had such heavy accents while they spoke.

Why was she bothering with it? Simple. She needed to learn how to speak differently in-case of unexpected situations. It was better to have several plans than none at all.

"To the Wench we shall go then. I'm wanting for some of their clam chowder myself." Ayaka nodded after the lalafell seemed to have made up his mind for them. Money was not a problem to the Au Ra thanks to her work but a few gil saved might probably help her in the future. Besides, with how Chachanji reacted with her earlier suggestion of the Bismarck, it definitely must not be common for one to simply drop by unannounced like so. Perhaps next time she could use that new knowledge, but for now, she was only going to reflect on the mistake she made.

When they've finally step foot inside the place, it showed how popular--regardless if most were drunk or near drunk sailors--the Drowning Wench was with how there were already several customers occupying the many tables of the place, even if there was a... unique combination of scent within the establishment. Thankfully though, there seemed to be enough vacant tables for a few more interested customers.

A miqo'te with pink hair approached the two, giving them a practiced smile, "Welcome to the Drowning Wench, a place to leave your cares and troubles behind. Would you like a table?" asked the waitress, seemingly placing heavy emphasis on the, leave your cares and troubles behind, in her words, looking at both the Au Ra and the lalafell, her eyes showing slight recognition at them.

"Yes, if you don't mind, we'd like to have that..." A pause as Ayaka looked about the place before pointing at one of the available tables. "Over there please." Said location was at the side by a bulletin board, a lamp hovering above it and giving the area ample light; Light that she wished for the smith to have when he will finally take a look at her blades.

"I hope you don't mind that table, Mr. Gegenji. I thought you would need the light for when you are to look at them." said the Raen as she turned to look at the lalafell when the waitress nodded and proceeded to walk and guide the two to their table.

Gegenji · **10-07-2016, 12:31 PM**

A closer dissection to the Lalafell's accent would find that it didn't seem to have much rhyme or reason to it. At the base was the tongue of the Ul'dahn common-folk and merchants, that much was easy enough to identify. However, it was heavily layered with intonations and slang pulled almost haphazardly from Limsan and general adventuring lexicons. It sounded almost as if someone was trying a bit too hard to sound Eorzean, but the strange mishmash came almost too easily to the little smith's lips. Implying either a unique dialect from some niche part of Eorzean culture or one that he had grown accustom to using over some length of time.

"Sounds good ta me," Chachan agreed in that strange tongue of his and with a small nod of his head, hefting the package under his arm as if it had started to slip. "'n ya can jus' call me 'Chachan' if'n ya prefer. Most folks do." He pauses thoughtfully for a beat. "Lotsa folks 'round these parts dun seem as interested in honorifics."

With that odd bit of commentary doled out, he followed the waitress and Ayaka to the table proper, taking a moment to push the parcel onto it before clambering into his seat. The waitress politely set down a pair of menus for the both of them, her gaze continuing to flit between them as held her serving tray to her chest patiently for them to get seated. Once they seemed comfortable enough, she piped up with a cheery: "Would you like anything to drink to start off with?"

Chachan was already undoing the twine ties of the package when the question was posed, screeching to a halt in the process. He sent a bashful little look the waitress' way, his stout fingers still clamped down on the twine. He seemed to realize this and jerked away from the package as if it had suddenly become red hot, though that descriptor might better fit his cheeks. Boy seemed to fluster pretty easily.

"O-oh, um... some orange juice'd be jus' fine, thankya," he managed, scratching at a freckled cheek with a gloved finger. He glanced down at the half-opened parcel and then over at Ayaka, the latter garnering the waitress' attention as well as the Lalafell set to work on the package bindings once more. "Um... ya want anythin'?"

If left to his own devices, Chachanji would finish unveiling the pair of blades and smooth the wrapping out against the wood tabletop. Ayaka's thoughts on the light seemed to have hit home, and the Dunesfolk looked over the blades from above first - his reflective violet orbs studying the two weapons. He'd then lift one and hold it up closer to the light, checking its weight and balance and the straightness of the blade itself amongst other things. All done with a preciseness and exactness that seemed almost alien compared to his flustering and bumbling earlier, as if someone had swapped him out for a completely different Lalafell when Ayaka wasn't looking. And he'd apply that same intense amount of attention to the second blade once he was done with the first - lost in his own little world as the waitress attended to the Au Ra.

Do as Domans Do [Closed]

RPC has moved! These pages have been kept for historical purposes