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Boo · **06-13-2014, 04:05 PM**

Midna was now fully done with her calculations and the poor elezen already saw herself skip quite a few meals with most of the displayed jewelry. On the other hand, she was now very close to being out of this place and will soon be able to sit down with a drink in hand in the shade. She knew just the spot right outside of Ul'dah where she could safely spend the rest of the day without having to worry about the apprentices finding her slacking off either.

"Oh don't worry, it'll only take a few minutes! I'll only accompany you to the guild, after that I'll be off to relax-" Midna immediately let out a cough to hide her unintentional slip up "I mean, do some more honest work for the sake of science of course." The elezen let out a small, slightly nervous laugh, she was hoping that the hyur would quickly choose whatever she wanted so that they could go as quickly as possible.

T'shina · **06-15-2014, 12:36 AM**

The Miqo'te would raise a brow at the Elezen's words, her right ear flicking a few times at the cough. Only a small frown would form on her full lips as she shakes her head. A soft sigh building in her chest before expelling from her. At this point it was up to Aya should she wish to partake in the Elezen's antics but T'shina was watching the strange Alchemist who wanted to get out of her duties.

Aya · **06-16-2014, 05:25 PM**

Aya smiled pleasantly, just a hint of mischief dancing in her blue eyes.

"I can spare a few minutes!"Â She turned around, her lips twitching a little as she tries to fight off the grin that pushes across her smile.Â Her finger dances a bit over a few different pieces she had been admiring, her eyes darting from one to another.Â They finally settle upon one of the belly chain, intricate silver metal work decorated with a few metal charms and gem stones.

Aya grins as she points it out to the shopkeeper, her gaze shifting to Midna, "I believe my friend will be purchasing this."

Aya · **07-03-2014, 05:20 PM**

Last Words with Ser Natalie: Aya the Soft

In the quiet of her little inn room, Aya could finally allow the storm of her emotions to break.Â Lamplight flickered low against the opposite wall, the midnight darkness fully settled within the interior, heady yet with spice and incense.Â Out of sight, out of mind, and away from watchful eyes, she felt the sudden urge to scream in frustration.Â

Moons had passed since the incident in Pearl Lane, when the two Sultansworn who she had relied upon as her protectors in a hostile city, proved instead to be agents of that very threatening menace.Â Still, the situation had changed dramatically, and besides, threatening to rough up a barmaid was a trifle compared to what else the two had been through.Â Perhaps they could be friends again, and put the unfortunate situation behind them.

Aya had already made her peace with Kage, he had anyways seemed a reluctant thug, and she knew he had made efforts to protect her even at risk to himself.Â Natalie was a different matter, however; she had seemed to enjoy her new 'duties' as a Brass Blade, and the two had not yet spoken since the events of that evening.Â It shouldn't have surprised Natalie that it was only with trepidation that Aya agreed to sit down and talk to her again.Â

There were no threats this time, it was an improvement.Â But no apology would be forthcoming; instead Aya found herself the subject of advice, well-intentioned or not, regarding the nature of Ul'dah, and its inherent corruption.Â Gil made the city go around, and everyone would be made to pay their share, it was just the way the city worked.Â

Aya squeezed her fist for a moment, recalling Natalie's explanations: justification, rationalization, evasion of responsibility.Â Natalie even had the temerity to suggest that she had done Aya a favor by being the one to threaten her, "another Brass Blade might not have let a physical assault go," she had said, referring to Aya's driving her high heel into Natalie's foot, the only moment of the entire situation that Aya could now recall with fondness.Â

Natalie's description of the city was not without its purpose: it promoted herself to a position of non-responsible importance, a cog in a machine that operated without her input, a well-intentioned agent of a depraved system, that was nonetheless necessary for the growth of civilization.Â At first Aya interpreted the words as a threat: leave this city or else, but she knew Natalie would have been more straightforward.Â No, she decided, the intent was earnest, Natalie wished to inform Aya about the city of Ul'dah that she knew, and to warn her of what to expect.

Aya already knew better, she was not as naive as Natalie believed.Â She already understood that such transactions, let alone the relationship channels along which they flowed, were less about gil, and more about power.Â Regardless of the city, regardless of its culture, there would always be officials, petty and otherwise, looking to lord above others.Â Creating fanciful fiction that it was actually for the victim's own good, may help them sleep at night, but brought nothing to the citizens they were sworn to serve.Â Ul'dah, to its great misfortune, may be more seriously afflicted by this cancerous corruption than other cities, but it is a difference of magnitude not nature.

The city the fallen Sultansworn described was not Ul'dah, so much as the slice of the city in which political power was concentrated.Â Traders, merchants, shopkeepers, legitimate and illegitimate, along with the officials and politicians entrusted with civic authority.Â To those without gil such flowery rhetoric was not just fantasy, but absurdity.Â The reality, as those who grow up on the streets of Ishgard, Ul'dah, or any other city cannot fail to learn, is that few things are worse than a corrupt official: criminals rarely pretend to protect, and even more rarely believe they are doing good for their victims.

Aya had made a mistake, it is true, she knew this.Â She had been naive.Â However, the question was not, "what?", but "who?", and now she knew the answer her peers had learned long before: never trust a Brass Blade.

Aya · **07-07-2014, 01:54 PM**

A Dancer's Fancy

Aya gazed into the mirror, one of the few real luxuries of her discounted room.Â She posed playfully, putting on a smile and enjoying the sight.Â Her jewelry jingled with the motion, joined by the sound of her light laughter.

It had been a lovely few days of rest: Momodi had given her a week of light duties that had bought her precious time to relax.Â She hadn't left the city, but at least she had been able to enjoy her afternoons and evenings.Â The days were filled with the simple pleasures of evening meals beneath the setting sun, and long walks along many of the city's still unfamiliar avenues.Â Still, it was the time spent with her friends, the little shop and dance studio tucked away deep within Ul'dah's torturous alleys and neighborhoods that she enjoyed the most.Â She had met so many people in her few months in Ul'dah, so many adventurers, soldiers, and traders that she could scarcely remember them all, but it was in the company of these friends that she always felt most at ease.Â The dancers understood each other in a way that others simply could not: the wonders and pleasures of their art, and the struggles and difficulty that they encountered trying to make a living.Â For them, the little studio was a true diamond in the rough, a getaway from the travails and pressures of the day-to-day.Â Inside the small group of dancers, friends each, were left to their own devices.Â To practice, to share, to enjoy.Â It was work, indeed, but work where smiles and laughter could drown out frustration and fear.

Without moving, she imagined herself dressed in the silk veils and jewelry of an Ul'dahn dancer.Â Hands held above her head, hips and shoulders moving rhythmically to the sound of the city's exotic music.Â Decorated with the body jewelry she had come to adore, adding the sound of jingling chains and charms to the tune.Â She had been known for the style in Ishgard, but what she had practiced was an adulteration of the true art.Â Here she could learn from those who were formed and shaped by the dance itself.Â It was something that had helped draw her to the dangerous city-in-the-sand, and now kept her there.Â She grinned at the flight of fancy, moved by the adulation of an imaginary crowd.

She turned gracefully, hands to her hips, looking over her shoulder to see how she looked from the other side.Â She grinned again, there would be no dancing tonight, but at least she would look good.Â She gave her hips a little shake, and laughed once more.

The midday "music" began only with the sound of jewelry joined by the click of heels against stone that filled the hall, joined slowly by the rising din of merriment and good company as she drew closer to the main floor of the Quick Sand.Â Her smile grew broader as she swayed her hips confidently, entering that playful saunter that seemed to serve her so well.Â As she bounced down the steps, and into the Quick Sand, the eyes of patrons flicked up, and seeing the now familiar blonde barmaid, several of the customers hollered to her, while fresh smiles looked up to her from across the atrium.

She grinned happily as she walked, turning her head toward Momodi, and drawing her bangs back with her hand.Â The two greeted one another with looks of mutual welcome and understanding.Â From the tables, regular patrons were already calling her over, suddenly ready to be served.

It may not have been an audience, but at least it was not a flight of fancy.[/align]

Aya · **07-11-2014, 12:10 PM**

Prelude to Peril

She pushed the key into the lock.Â The dank Limsan air caused it to stick.Â She pushed a little more, hearing the decisive clunk as it slid fully into place. She was soaked to the bone.Â White seemed such a wonderful Limsan color, and the little outfit had been perfect for a day of vacation and shopping, until an offshore wind brought its rain and chill.Â The flush of wine was still upon her cheeks from the evenings festivities, but the expression in her features was that of uncharacteristic seriousness.

She turned the key, and opened the latch, pushing the door to C'kayah's flat open.Â

"Perhaps he will be here..." she thought, hopefully.Â Â

As the door swung slowly open, only darkness greeted her.Â In the dim streetlight she lit the candle left willingly by the door.Â "He's not here..." she thought, confirming what she had already known.

Still, as she moved slowly through the apartment lighting the oil lamps one-by-one she entered each room with a sense of hope, suffering repeated disappointment.Â She had never seen him in this place, but it looked like him, and smelled of him, a scent now mingling with girlish fragrance of perfume and cosmetic from the spare bedroom which she had taken as her own for use during the short vacation.

She let out a deep sigh; rarely would the sight of a trusted friend have been more welcome.Â A sense of deep loneliness came over her again, a helplessness against the tossing tides of life that she had found no easier to escape despite flight, after flight.Â

"Why would anyone rely on me... I am just a barmaid?"Â It was a question that had been repeated all evening.Â Why indeed...

She knew what she wanted to do: go to ground, as any smart fox would.Â She was already out of sight, the hounds were at bay.Â Go to ground.Â Save herself.Â

She stood silently in the hallway outside of C'kayah's personal chambers, mind racing with thoughts of escape.Â Her fingers knit together, working with a nervous energy as she gazed blankly at the floor.Â "Go to ground..."

Her voice erupted spontaneously, and without effort, "OSRIC!" she cried, the walls of the chamber seeming first to reverberate, and then to rebel with the mention of their master's oft-time foe.Â "Osric..." she repeated, more quietly, as she wondered why the Gods would allow Ul'dah's savior to be ripped from her at the height of the city's need.

"Crofte..."Â She had overheard this on her link pearl, but at the time she refused to believe it, only now it could not be denied.

"Kiht..."

Her mind reeled with the thoughts of and fears for so many of her friends, left now tied to a miserable fate, their lives and everything that they loved imperiled.

She moved slowly into his office, her weight falling into his desk chair.Â Her elbows fell to the desk, and her head into her hands.Â In the near dark, out of sight, away from public eye, she found herself doing what she never allowed: she broke down.Â Tears streamed down her cheeks, flowing and dripping relentlessly to the desk below.Â The crying whimper of her voice was swallowed by the thick brick walls of Limsan construction.Â

It seemed an eternity later when she found herself seated once more at the desk.Â A sheet of paper before her: her purchase of writing supplies earlier in the day had perhaps been fortuitous, but the paper was a pink, frilly paper with lace edging.Â It had been meant for lighthearted, and perhaps flirtatious letters to her friends once she had returned home.Â For a moment she smirked, the upward curl of her lips providing a stark contrast to the cry-weary look of her eyes.Â "Such a serious message for such frivolous carriage..." she thought to herself.

She set about writing the letter to C'kayah, using the elegant, flowing, and beautiful Ishgardian script that was the legacy of parents who in their foolishness believed it a skill necessary for a girl "of her rank".

When she finished she folded the letter carefully, and slipped it into an envelope just as feminine, affixing it with the heart-shaped seal that seemed so much more appropriate earlier in the day.

She nodded, with fragile resolve.Â "I have to post this right away, maybe it will reach C'kayah before I can return to Ul'dah."

She picked herself up, grabbing a coat of his as she left for the door.Â For now he would at least help her fend off the rain. She stepped back into the cold, wet, Limsan Dark.Â High heels struck rough cobble stones, while rain pelted her from above.Â Such a serious message; such frivolous carriage.

Warren Castille · **07-29-2014, 12:06 PM**

They always return to the scene of the crime.

The evening candles had burned down a fair degree; A complimentary reminder to the patrons of the Quicksand how much time had transpired since they began to swim in their cups. It was only a trio of colored waxen rings left before the sun would begin to crawl out of bed and for all of the ruckus raised on the well-worn floors, only a few of the most dedicated imbibers remained. There were a few early-risers as always, those who would toil before the first slice of daylight broke the walls, but the Quicksand was mostly silent save for the settling of glasses and the tinkling of silverware. Of course, there was also the sound of footfalls.

Warren was still wearing his clothes from the Grindstone and he again felt somehow wrong being near that pillar without an aldgoat's weight in steel covering him. That feeling was put out of mind when he noticed the blonde in the ponytail still working the shift.

"Morning, Miss Aya." He suffered a bashful smile and only glanced at her before letting his gaze settle on the bar as he took a seat opposite her. "Anything interesting happen tonight? I missed it. Grindstone and all."

Aya · **07-29-2014, 12:45 PM**

Aya was wiping down freshly washed glasses, setting each carefully in its rack.Â It was a late night, but Momodi needed the help, and the peace that seemed to settle over the place in the wee hours at least made the extra work easier to bear.

She lifted her gaze from one such glass, smiling softly, to the paladin.Â Her smile became a bright grin as she recalled the last time she had seen him,Â "And a good evening to you too, Ser Warren!"Â The Ishgardian accent played so delightfully along the girl's voice, imparting a little dose of mystery upon every word.

"The Grindstone keeping you busy?Â Well, you know how it goes here~ pirates, trouble-makers, and louts all night long!Â No end of trouble!" She laughed softly while finishing drying off the glass, sliding it snugly onto the rack and into place against its fellows.Â "Especially once the Grindstone lets out and the ruffians start to trickle in here."Â She cants her head, peering at him with lips pulled into a pursing smirk, and a playfulness in her eyes, "You're not another ruffian now, are you?"

Warren Castille · **07-29-2014, 12:53 PM**

Warren played a shocked expression, gasping in mock offense. "Me, Aya? A ruffian? And here I'd thought I'd proven my goodness somehow."

He relented and smiled while peering over the counter at the neatly-lined bottles. After a moment he shook his head and turned back to the woman, still grinning like the coeurl that got the cream. "Hope it wasn't too much trouble. I usually hope there's someone here to cover for the place when I'm not around, but I seem to have lured off your most reliable knight on these evenings. I trust she got to bed alright."

He leaned against the countertop and folded his hands in front of him. There was a light in his eyes that seemed out of character for the usually-stoic paladin, but he had plenty reason to look as glad as he did.

Aya · **07-29-2014, 01:16 PM**

Aya giggled softly, lifting her eyes again, delighted in a little play in the quiet of the Quick Sand's earliest hours.Â "Oh she got to bed quite well, I think you know~"

She turned to the side as she moved to straighten a few of the bottles and glasses behind the bar.Â "But you're right: what is a girl to do when her knights elope?" she flashes that grin once more, now in profile, "Not only that, but I hear that other knights are afraid to guard the pillar." Still grinning, and without moving, she turns her blue eyes, toward him, "Seems you two have a reputation of sorts."

Warren Castille · **07-29-2014, 01:24 PM**

Warren's smile shifted from genuine glee to mischievous curiosity and his eyebrows furrowed slightly as he questioned her.

"Reputation? Are you talking about those silly letters? I promise, once I find out who's doing it I'll make sure they stop defacing Momodi's property." Whether he was playing aloof or actually unaware was difficult to discern.

He spared a glance over his shoulder at the support structure. He was on the wrong angle to see it from where he sat but he knew where that one specific set was, facing out where he normally chose to stand when on his own.

Aya · **07-29-2014, 01:38 PM**

Aya turns to wipe an area of the bar, a little down from Warren, keeping her profile toward him as she rhythmically draws the damp cloth first one way along the finished wooden surface, and then the other.

"Oh yes~" she extends her pronunciation of the affirmation, grinning, and almost laughing, "A pillar claimed by two such stalwart knights, known to protect what's theirs.Â I've heard them say it themselves," she playfully mimics a knight's voice, "Oh, I would... but... I hear there are already knights who..." She lets her voice trail off, turning her eyes toward him again.

She stops wiping the counter, turning her body to face him, leaning onto the bar, her hip pressed to it, her elbow resting upon it as she looks at him.Â That playful, almost pouty, smirk once more on her lips as she cants her head, her eyes looking past him and down toward the floor behind him.Â "So what's a girl to do, Ser Warren?" her eyes flick up to him as she says his name, "With all these ruffians and louts about?"

Warren Castille · **07-29-2014, 01:48 PM**

Warren grinned as Aya put on her best knight impression. For a moment her tried to see the woman in armor but shook it off once he realized she'd never accessorize the tabard the way she'd like. It was with a friendly grin that he settled back in his chair, folding his arms casually across his chest.

"Cast 'em out, of course! There's always going to be a run of folks trying to get their hands where they don't belong, or shoot their mouths off when they should be quiet, but I think at this point most of the people who come through this way know better than to hassle the staff here. I hope so, for their benefit." Warren shrugged and still looked amused.

"Though, I suppose we should go easy on them. Everyone's a ruffian or a lout sometimes." There was a knowing sparkle of fun in his expression, the sort always present when two friends are sharing a joke.

Aya · **07-29-2014, 02:03 PM**

Each of her ears was pierced seven times, three in a line along the top, and four along the bottom drawing back from the lobes, which were usually decorated with dangling earrings, while the others were decorated with studs that changed to match her outfit.Â This evening they were red and black, with larger silver earrings of small cylinders that liked to jingle together whenever she moved her head.Â As she shook her head with a laugh, they accompanied her voice with a light music.

"Really, now, Ser Castille!?"Â She leans a little closer to him, those peering blue eyes still cast toward him, "I suppose we shouldn't be too rough on you~them... then"

She pulls back gently, still grinning,"Still~ it might be easier if there were someone around to watch the place, rather than chasing each other across the world.Â But I suppose that chase has proved more than worth it, hmmm?" she winks knowingly.

Warren Castille · **07-29-2014, 02:22 PM**

Warren smiled guiltily when she "misspoke" and nodded, the gesture proving she'd caught him.

"I promise, Miss Aya, it wasn't ever really my intention to stray from duty. It just sort of... happened." He splayed his hands and shrugged his shoulders helplessly, the look of a child making an excuse that held no water. "I'd been thinking for moons and moons that Menphina had it out for me, that I'd offended her somehow. I'm... not sure I understand how it all turned out this way. Honestly! My head clouds over when I try to retrace my steps."

He realized he was rambling and cleared his throat. "Things are alright now, though. I got the collar off, that business is done. I know it won't ever be quiet around here, but... I'll do my best to stay focused. For your benefit, and for Ul'dah's. Cot's strong, she doesn't need me hawking out for her."

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Stranger in a Strange Land

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