Bulletin Board

[Ciel]

"Sauveterre?  That's a name I haven't heard in a long time.  She was with the Free Brigade, if I recall."

 

An older member of the Immortal Flames sat off duty with a former comrade, long since retired from duty.  "Odd that her name would come up, but she was a good soldier.  Her and all of Wulfegard.  Ser Morithan hand-picked each and every one, thinking all of them cast-offs and meant to make something worthwhile out of them."

 

"Aye."  The first Flame closed his eyes for a moment, letting callused fingers tap idly against the side of his tankard.  "She was never meant for any military... you could see it in her eyes, and just the way she dealt with others.  She had confidence, but not the physical bearing of a soldier, nor the mindset to deal well with taking lives on a battlefield, which is why she was assigned to Conjury at Carteneau even if it wasn't her strong suit."

 

The retired Flame nods slowly, "Too nice even when giving orders to her own subordinates.  Even so, she earned her rank... Second Lieutenant."  He rubbed his chin, "If what I've heard is right, the person claiming her name even had the bow she was awarded upon achieving that rank.  Could be a shoddy duplicate.  She's been missing in action since then... why would someone claim her identity now?"

[111]

Evangeline walks into her room, flopping down on the bed with a sigh.

 

Was this really a smart idea? It had occurred to her at first as a reasonable opportunity. Otto Vann, was smart, rich, and well connected. Even a bit dashing when he wished to be, as rare as that was. He was still a man though, and a Syndicate man at that.

 

Perhaps she'd let her guard down. Their long talks on subjects both personal and practical had left her feeling comfortable around him. She remembered mirthfully even now, their first meeting, when she had spit on him for his Syndicate status. Now, ironically the same status that was helping her cause.

 

Still though... the Ball? With him? She still wasn't sure if the thought brought anxiety or excitement, perhaps both.

 

Evangeline sits for a moment, then laughs. "If I'm going to lose my way, I might as well look good doing it." Then, hopping up, she begins looking through her effects, wondering what she might wear.

[Delilah Scythewood]

Marriage.

 

Why were people so hung up on marriage?

 

Lili ran her hands down her face as she let herself free fall onto the couch, giving a little bounce before she settled against the cushions with her quilt. A marriage proposal here, a dead husband suddenly returning to her life there, an ex fiance she runs into in the city of occasion here and here...Then there was Locke, sweet as could be...

 

The blonde let out a groan and tossed the covering over her head.

 

Fuck people. Time for a nap.

[Cliodhna Eoghan]

The sun shone brightly leaving little room for shadows as it normally did in the Goblet, the air smelling of warm earth. Cliodhna sighed contently as she stepped out of the Sable hall and into the side yard; this heat was so nice. Tucked under her arm was what looked to be a piece of Galrean tech. "Okay...." She murmured, kneeling down and setting the small vanguard on it's feet. "Let's see what ya got Steiner."

 

 

Pearl street always had it's problems, but because of the things that happened there; Cliodhna found reason occasionally to travel it, here boots clicking loudly in the night air as she walked. Though her gaze appeared passive, her sharp eyes were taking everything in; the drunk slumped against the door-frame, the whores heading out for work, the cloaked figure peddling ill obtained wares, his gaze fixated on her and glaring. "Get lost, we're busy." He growled at Cliodhna as she approached them.

 

Her lips pursed into a smile, "No I don't think so...." She replied, slightly shifting in her stance. "Look, either you get the hell out or I'll make you wish you did. Pretty lil thing like you has no business being here if you wanna keep yourself proper." By this point the buyer; a Highlander looking to be in his late teens grinned as well, leering. "Right? I could take you out if you're really that desperate, honey." He grinned, flashing his teeth.

 

Cliodhna shook her head, chuckling. "It's shit like you that makes me enjoy what I do for a living." Before either man had chance to reply; Cliodhna quickly delivered a snap punch to the buyer, his head jerking backwards as she heard the cartilage in his nose crunch as the force caused him to stagger against the wall before sliding down. The seller tried to run but she was already dropping to the ground and swung out behind him; sweeping her leg under his and knocking him off his feet. rolling quickly she tossed her weight against his and knocked him flat on his back; straddling his chest with her knees pinning his arms.

 

"L-lady LADY!! Look I'm sorry! I'll give you whatever you want, here take this!! I got some high quality sum-fuckin hells!!" He cried out as she clocked him in the right eye. "First, you're a piece of scum selling this trash." Another snap punch. "Secondly you pissed me off with your comments. That is NOT how you talk to a lady." Another punch. "And lastly, you don't bribe a flame, you dumbass!" One more punch, knocking a few teeth loose in the process. "F-flame?" He gargled around a mouthful of blood and broken teeth. "Flames don't patrol this area!"  Cliodhna backhanded him. "We do when you sell our shit."

 

Turning her attention back to the buyer that had been scuttling away; Cliodhna spoke over her shoulder. "You, did you learn your lesson? Don't ever let me catch you this way again or I'll make your face match his." Quickly the younger boy ran off; hand clamped tightly over his severely swollen and bleeding nose. Still perched on the buyer as he whimpered in pain, Cliodhna tapped her pearl. "Captain? I got him."

 

Shortly after a team of Flames arrived and picked up the Seller. He had been openly peddling a varying amount of stolen goods, most interestingly was a variety of Flame gear and had been a target to weed out quickly. Once they were gone, Cliodhna stretched and tilted her head from side to side; her neck cracking. As she did, something caught her attention.

 

It was on the ground and in a heap of things the seller had dropped when being hauled off. Kicking aside some debris to get a better look. "....Thought so..." She murmured. It was a badly damaged Mammot, but the crystal looked intact. Knowing she should take it in for evidence, Cliodhna couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for the little thing as she picked it up and headed home...it would just rot in the evidence room forgotten.

 

It had taken a few weeks but not nearly as long as she had originally thought. With a bit of help from Erik, she was able to repair what was needed and with her own skills form her former life, improve the overall design and concept by taking a model Vanguard toy that was typically sold only in Imperial lands she had smuggled to Ul'dah originally just to keep but decided on giving the Mammat a better body .

 

 

Suddenly the sound of a small bullet cracked in the air; breaking the silence. Dragging herself from her thoughts, Cliodhna looked down at Steiner as smoke drifted off one of his guns. "Mistress! A threat was detected and has been eradicated. Praise me, PRAISE ME!" The small Vanguard boomed, it's arms shifting and key twirling happily as a bird dropped from the sky and landed at her feet; bullet in it's chest.

 

Chuckling slightly, Cliodhna knelt down and patted Steiner on the head. "Thank you Steiner, but we'll have to adjust your settings a bit...." Continuing to kneel she looked at Steiner with admiration, he really was a beautiful melding of the two technologies and Montblanc needed a playmate.

[Steel Wolf]

Steel grumbled as the small army of Lalafellians fluttered about her body like she was a piece of comb and they the bees.

 

Her new friend Miko, whom she had met in the streets of Ul'dah after her adventure with a certain baby behemoth, had talked her in to going to some Starlight Ball, and it had completely slipped her mind. Now, she was being punished for her poor memory.

 

The tailor could throw something together...but it would take time. And she would need measurements. It all sounded like fighting a dragon to hear the tailor speak...but Steel knew the fault was hers, and so complied.

 

Steel had no idea her form could be broken down into a series of numbers. She wasn't a stranger to fashioning metal around the curves of a body, but apparently fabric required a Summoner's level of knowledge of higher math. And also required her to stand stock-still while myriad tiny hands pawed at her body in ways that probably would make a fetishist novel writer blush.

 

The Miqo'te tailor tut-tutted, finger waving about at the Lalafellian assistants scurried about, pulling swatches of fabric about Steel's smallclothes form. It had been about twenty minutes of this treatment and Steel's face was growing darker and darker.

 

Another tiny digit jammed itself in to her inner thigh as measuring tape was rode up her leg. There was a pause. The finger stayed put near a place that only Steel had let her husband touch before. Then, a tiny voice.

 

"She has nothin' here, ma'am."

 

Steel looked over her shoulder at the assistant, her eyes glowing in rage. The Lalafell wilted under the look. Meanwhile, the Miqo'te woman strutted over, muttering. "Whaddaya mean she ha--....oh."

 

Steel's eyes looked over to the tailor. "What?"

 

"Dear..." ,said the tailor, lip pouting as if she was a disappointed mother. "You have no butt."

 

"I have no butt."

 

A nod.

 

"I'm reasonably sure I have one."

 

"Oh, you've something like one, but...not a substantial one. Not fit for th'sorta dress you're looking for..."

 

Steel peered over her shoulder, a hand resting on her derriere. She arched her back, watching her body move. Sure enough...there was something there, indeed, but her years of labor had all but chiseled the womanly wiles of her backside away. She had decent hips, but beyond that?

 

Steel's frown mirrored the tailor's. "So...what'm I supposed to do then? Eat cake for a week?"

 

The tailor had strutted back to the front of the Roegadyn, fingers rubbing her chin. "Well...at least you have an ample bosom. That's something we can work with."

 

Steel growled. This was going to be a very long day.

[Dogberry]

"I know, dammit. I know. Look, I bought him a bed. Sheets and everything." Dogberry paced around in the room he had rented from his friend and physician, Rhianna Oruissi. He was talking on a linkpearl, navigating crates and chests set around the room in various states of unpacking.

 

"Red. They're red," he said, growing increasingly frustrated. "It's a Maelstrom--I KNOW he wants to be an Immort-- That's not the point, OK? It's something to sleep on. What, I gotta get him Sultansworn bedsheets and Raubahn branded underpants? Twelve's sake!"

 

Dogberry sat down on his couch, and began the process of detaching his legs. After some time they become uncomfortable.

 

"Why else would I rent a place in Lavender Beds? The whole reason I got this place was so I can be near him. Just give'm t'me every couple of days out of th'week." A pause while he listened. He deflated visably.

 

"I know, I'm tryin' to work up to it. I figure I'll tell him once he gets to know me. He ain't dumb, he might even figure it out on his own." Another pause.

 

"No, I'm not trying to get out of telling him. I'll tell him. We can tell him together as a family. Just let me at least build up somethin' with the boy."

 

"No, I'm not--Bloody hells, y'think after th'life I led I want that boy anywhere near a ship? I'm hopin' th'boy displays an aptitude for woodworkin', or cookin', or hells, haberdashery. I'd rather he make a decent life sellin' hats than takin' after me." The legs were off now, and he began massaging what was left of his legs.

 

"Hells, Styrseig, I'm sittin' here, rubbin' the aches out of a set of stumps what used t'be my legs. I've faced foes th'likes of which haunt m'dreams t'this day. Y'know what I fear more'n that? Livin' with the thought that I've not done right by m'own son."

 

"It ain't too late, dammit. We're both still breathin'. What I did, I can't change, but I can be better."

 

"No, I didn't write that down. I'm bein' serious here. Can I please, just spend some time with m'own son? Seig? Y'there? Dammit."

 

Dogberry threw the linkpearl across the room. It bounced off the wall and fell into the bath.

[Kage]

Kage paused while he worked the hot piece of metal. A gift. To whom... it really depended on what he'd get the item worked into. A decorative piece? A more... martial piece? Whichever it became, he hoped the recipient liked it. If not, well, he needed to work on this more.

 

The lalafell thought back to the last Grindstone, remembering the people he'd taken notice of. The one that he'd fought, Aiden, and the one he'd taken a small moment's of interest. He didn't feel too bad about misleading Chachanji into taking part in the events. Perhaps a part of Natalie's ways had rubbed off on him; it certainly seemed like something Natalie would have done to himself once upon a time. But he did feel a tad bit bad that he'd not stuck around to watch how Chachanji fared against Koporo and any consequent matches... He'd taken to seeing how the Quicksand was and decided he'd head off home and take care of some of the business orders that needed finishing touches.

 

Oh well, perhaps he'd be able to see Chachanji again.

[Dat Oni]

The fire crackled as a tiny hand poked the brush with a stick. The pit cast a soft glow against the figure, the Dunesfolk Koporo Aporo, as he twisted the cap off his flask and took a swig. The evening had turned the sun-baked Thanalan into a quiet, cold place; Koporo nestled into his blanket and rubbed his hands together in front of the fire, sighing. On the other side of the flame, propped up against a rock, there was the shield of the late Natalie McBeef, a gift to him, as was specified in her testament, and now, a companion piece for him this lonely night, there at Fesca's Wash.

 

His eyes watched the embers of the firepit for a moment, before turning to focus on the shield. He cracked a small smile, briefly, before reverting to a saddened expression. Again, he turned to the flask, downing another ounce or two and giving a knee-jerk shake of the head in response to the drink's potency. For such a little creature, Koporo fancied drinks that would knock most taller beings flat on their ass, cringing and gripping their guts as if they had just plunged a knife into their abdomen. If Koporo had tolerance for anything, it was alcohol, and he found himself trying to find progressively stronger and stronger drinks as his resistance to the previous tiers grew. He thanked the Twelve every day there were madmen out there ever willing to push the boundaries of the strength of their brew, especially considering recent events that were pushing him to his limits. A worse event, a stronger brew. It seemed to be the way of things, as of late, and Koporo was not arguing.

 

The wind blew, and Natalie's shield slipped ever so slightly to the side. Koporo's upward-pointed ears twitched as his eyes darted. If the shield had anything to say on the matter, it was being rather quiet about it. Then again, it was an inanimate object, was it not? Koporo sighed, placing the flask on the dirt as he lay down on his side, wrapped in his warm blanket. Finally, after minutes of silence, he spoke up:

 

"...It ain't fair."

 

He looked down at the dirt, watching as a tiny little beetle made its way past him. "It jus...It ain't fair, what's happenin'."

 

Koporo gave the shield a good hard look. "It's all gon' t'all Seven Hells an' back since ya went an' left, ya know?" The shield gave no response, as shields are wont to do in a conversation. Still, he continued, "Ya ever once picture in yer career th'people ya done swore t'protect would come t'hate ya'll an' everythin' ya do fer em'? All th'hurtin', all th'sneakin', all th'...Th'gods derned sacrifices ya'll make? Fer them?" Koporo turned his head and picked up his falchion from the ground behind him and began to scan around. His eyes spotted the beetle from before, and with one swift motion he stabbed the dirt in front of it. The beetle jumped back instinctively, poking the obstruction with a feeler, before marching around the large blade. "That th'Citizenry would come t'hate the Sworn?"

 

The glow of the fire illuminated a sad expression on the Dunesfolk. "An' that o' all people, not even Crofte would know how t'stifle it?" He turned his head back to the shield. "Don' git me wrong, I believe in 'er, an I respect 'er...But she ain't so good at th'false certainty deal. I see right through it, ya know? An' it makes me...Nervous. An' th'worst part is, I know exactly why she ain't so sure."

 

Koporo lay his head in his hand, giving a long sigh. "I took up th'sword an' shield what fight back 'gainst those who fight wit' their own weapons, righ?" He began to pick himself up off the dirt, finding himself increasingly uncomfortable. "But these folk...They don' fight wit knives, er swords, er spears. Thems fellars fight wit' words. Words what come out their mouths, an' words what wrote on' paper, handed out t'every bleedin' impressionable bastard in th'city. An' ya jus' can't fight words wit' swords."

 

"They're tearin' us down wit' their gods derned opinions. One by one. None o' us er safe. From th'Captains t'the poor fellars what jus' signed up, they're out t'ruin every single one o' us. An this stupid Editorial has th'gall t'try an play innocent an' act like they jus' wanna rid th'city o'the bad folk in our ranks, righ? What bad folk? I ain't seen no bad folk. An I reckon if'n ya'll weren't six feet under, ya'd be noddin' yer 'ead righ' now." He clenched the balled-up article from the Tonberry's Lantern in his hand and tossed it into the fire, sending a brief plume of flame up into the air. "Worm shite."

 

He shook his head. "Ya'd know what t'do. Idjit that ya were not bringin' me along t'save yer ass, ya'd still know what t'do fer all o' this. But ya done went off an got yerself killed, now what the hells am I s'posed t'do?" He stared at Natalie's shield, as if expecting an answer. When no words came, he shook his head again, sighing. "Look at me, talkin' t'a derned shield. This is drivin' me crazy, ain't it? Soon I'll be seein' things an' they'll 'ave t'send me back t'what's left o'Mama's Clan."

 

He chuckled a bit at the thought. "That'll be th'day. Momma, I love ya, but ya'll done lost it, an' ya'll never find it, again. Dammit, now I need 'nother drink..." 

 

As he finished off what was left of the flask's contents, he looked at the shield one last time. Placing the flask in his pocket, he realized there was an old song playing in his head, a tune he had learned from a bard in the Forgotten Springs, and one of his first tastes of the Eorzean language. He grabbed the bag of sand affixed to his belt, and emptied its contents over the fire, making sure it was properly starved of air. Pulling the visor affixed to his turban down over his eyes, he lay down on the ground and nestled comfortably into his blanket. 

 

"Dust devil swept ya away..." he whispered, as he began to nod off. "What's left o' ya is ash an' urn in this silent...Yaaawn..."

 

VYffGOMCcMQ

 

"...Horizon."

[Dogberry]

Another day of arguing and Styrseig finally relented. The boy would come to visit for tonight only. If it went well, maybe there would be more.

 

Dogberry's patrol couldn't end quick enough. As he made his rounds, he found himself smiling. He noticed this changed the way a lot of people reacted to him. Where usually they seemed intimidated, now they seemed much friendlier. Of course, Dogberry thought. You get what you give.

 

Maybe, he reasoned, things could get better if he acted more positively. That his generally negative perspective meant he wasn't seeing the good all around him. As the cold, bitter air chapped his drying lips, he promised out loud to do better that day. He'd take more time to help people on his patrol.

 

He helped a man calm a chocobo that went wild and nearly overturned his cart. He brokered a deal on behalf of a nervous goblin. He purchased and brought hot tea to someone in the cold. He even tried, in vain, to catch a stray cat.

 

As the day passed, Dogberry decided that he would pick up a meal for two from the Bismarck to go, hop the first airship to Gridania, and take the ferry back to his place in Lavender Beds, where he'd await the boy's arrival. He received the bag full of tin containers from the waitress, and gave her a respectable tip and a courteous smile.

 

A voice came over the linkpearl he kept for the family.

 

"Dogberry?"

 

"Aye, sis?"

 

"Rhutshald won't be coming over."

 

Dogberry took a moment to compose himself.

 

"May I ask why?" He asked.

 

"I just don't think right now is a good time. How about after the Starlight festival?"

 

"A-aye," Dogberry said. "Fine."

 

"I'm sorry, it's just-" Styrseig said.

 

"I said it's fine," Dogberry was a little more forceful than he intended. There was silence over the linkpearl now. He began walking toward the Drowning Wench, to catch the elevator to the airship landing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the stray cat from before.

 

"Oh, so now you come around," he said to the cat. The cat moved forward and looked up at him. "You're probably hungry, aren't ya?"

 

Dogberry knelt down, picked up the cat, and put it inside his big, warm coat.

 

"C'mon, little guy, let's go home."

[DreamedReality]

Jaques keeps a tight grip on Vaughn's hand as he drags the other elezen through the crowds of the early evening in Ul'dah. Having pulled him away from whatever stall he'd been browsing. "Lydie! LYDIE!" A pause, cutting off anything Vaughn might be saying or trying to say as Jaques turns and demands, "Enie, did you see which way she went?" He blinks as he gets a good look at who he was dragging around before confusion clouds his features.

 

Vaughn gives Jaques a bewildered look at the sudden change in the man. Still he forces a smile. "Are...are you alright, Jaques? I...haven't seen you act...like this before."

 

Stares at Vaughn as he seems to come back to himself and the confusion clears. He was sweating and his heart was pounding. He shakes his head before looking around the area trying to get his bearings. They were down a different section of the markets and he couldn't place exactly where they were. Another shake of his head, "Fine... Vaughn. I'm fine."

 

"You...don't seem fine." He tries to reach up to caress his face. "What...what's going on in that mind of yours? You're worrying me."

 

Pulls away to avoid the touch. "I told you I see them... Just not normally when you're around." He was overheating despite the fact that the evening air had cooled quite a bit from the burning heat of midday. There were too many people. He starts to pull Vaughn down a side alley at random.

 

Frowns slightly and follows, holding Jaques's hand tightly. He was still worried, and now starting to panic a bit, wondering where Jaques was leading him, but not saying anything until they reach whatever destination the man decided.

[Oscare]

Nothing. The perfect word that describes the mood of a specific highlander, laying on his bed tonight in perfect solitude. The rest of the mass can shove it up theirs.

No anger. No joy. Nothing. Oscare lost all feeling in everything tonight. "Fuck it," escapes the hunter's lips. "No." Follows shortly after. "Never again. Forever. This is what I deserve. That was a pathetic me. Perfection like me, needing someone or having a friend? No. A mistake I refuae to make again. I need no one. I don't need feelings."

 

He closes his eyes, not even a pinch of amger or happiness led him on. From today onwards, he makes a new vow. No emotions, not even wrath. A permanent change was needed now. 

 

This marks the beggining of a new life. One he intends to lead forever. Those idiots can keep their emotions and friends. A perfect person doesn't need those. And Oscare is perfect.

[Kage]

As the fat cat futilely chased after the nutkin back to the plot of land that had become their home, their lalafell caretaker followed them... huffing and puffing with some exhaustion. Somehow or another, Kage had gotten a tree for the Starlight. It wasn't topped yet, something he would be rectifying soon enough. He marveled at it, not having personally ever gotten one before. The process as it were... He surveyed his neighbors, trying to see what kinds of treetoppers they had. Not to play the unique card but to aid in the neighborhood's diversity and to share as much as possible.

 

So he thought.

 

Kage slipped off the gloves he'd used to spare his hands' flesh of the pines and needles digging into them as he gave a short whistle. He rubbed his palms together, getting the blood pumping and warmth and feeling in them. He smiled softly and gently as the nutkin and cat came to him as he tilted his head beckoning to him as he entered the home.

 

"Time to get to work."

[Unnamed Mercenary]

Franz made his way towards the kitchen, taking care to not make any heavy steps that might alert any others awake at such an early hour. Was perhaps the fourth bell of the morning?

 

As he stood at the stove, stirring the contents of the small pot, he reflected on what had happened recently. Ciceroix had been in trouble, his sister Miette under some form of control to hunt him down to kill. Reinette and Jancis had been there to make a peaceful resolution, and he, he had been useless in the entire endeavor, it seemed. No better than some training dummy meant for archers to practice hitting their marks. While the others had found a solution to save both brother and sister, he had been ready to kill Miette without hesitation. Even more so after learning that Edda’s safety could hinge on such circumstances.

 

Edda. They’d met on friendly enough terms. The Roegadyn, Iron Sea, who had begun living in the house he stayed in at the time had been hired to protect her from danger. Through some turn of rather unfortunate timing, she’d come to learn he was a Garlean, living out his days in Eorzea. From that point, what had been friendliness through formality had become more of a fight to prove he was not the thread to Eorzea she could then only see him as. And then, as quickly as he’d come to know her, she vanished.  It had been as if a piece of his own life had been sealed away. He thought of the tortured state she’d been in, likely never having experienced anything even close to the amount of pain she must have endured. And by none other than some Elezen she’d decided to trust on a whim.

 

Yet, she’d been rescued, Miette as well. And that was what had mattered to him at this moment. More importantly, he knew the empty feeling of hunger that would have to set in on her once she was no longer in shock from the events. He gave the porridge a small amount of fresh honey to sweeten it for her palate. Likely, she would leave it untouched, but nonetheless, he prepared a small serving for her: warmed bowl, spoon, and a warm pot of tea.

 

Franz walked down the hall, stopping in from of Edda’s room. Also on the tray, a short letter. “Please direct Edda to eat something. Might this help ensure she will not have to suffer from hunger.” He knocked on the door just loud enough for the visiting Elezen to hear. He left no further comments. As he walked down the hall, he could hear the click of her door opening as his entered his own room, too tired to even remove any heavy articles of clothing, he nearly fell onto his bed, sollerets and all. He would check up on her one he’d woken up himsef.

[Kage]

Kage hummed to himself as he looked at the very hastilt scrawled list he had made. He'd seen some Starlight wishes and he hoped to continue to help. Kage had never been much of a believer in the Twelve but he had always tried to respect the thought behind everything that happened.

 

Such as Starlight. Ever since Roen had sent him the gift, he was always on the look out to wear the red and white hat or his new beret. Spreading cheer and trying to fulfill some hopes and dreams of others

 

He had been able to commission a fine coat and had found no small amount of a adorable creatures. He hoped their new owners would be able to look after them.

 

((If I have granted a wish don't worry it need not be in your RP))

[The Crow]

Somewhere located within the shroud a cloaked figure brings a linkpearl to his ear and speaks only one word "Report". After a moment of static noise a voice breaks through to respond.

 

"As you ordered I made no attempt to hide my presence, I am quite sure at least a fair number noted it but it did not attract any potential comrades hiding within midst. Many of the individuals and organizations marked as war potentials were present, thanks to all the festivities of the ball I was able to make observations of them and the standings they have with one another quite easily.That will be sent in separate report . I did however approach one of them and as expected we will be bound to clash with them as with many others I would assume. Something curious to note is I did find one who shared our affinity yet insists to uphold the current ways, I gave him the letter so only time and the course of this world will tell whether he will join us. Unfortunately I was unable to locate any priest's or priestesses for future operations. Of all that I observed it is clear that if we not choose are targets carefully at first we will undoubtedly stir up a very large hornets nest". The voice ends off there awaiting a response

 

"Resume your current operation then and continue sending reports to our network I will have other agents look into acquiring some holy patrons. From Darkness we came, To Darkness we return". Once finished the cloaked figure destroys the linkpearl and turns around to address the others behind him "The festivities are over we can continue our operation now.

 

Done speaking multiple figures could be seen moving within the darkness with great haste. Soon enough a dark shadow will encase the shroud and will not disappear until it finds what it wants.

[Jancis]

[align=center][/align]

 

Pilgrims can be seen entering the towns and cities, wrapped in thick linens and woolen robes, enjoying the festive time of Starlight exchanging presents and pleasantries.

 

Dried lavender bundles and tied satchels of lavender buds were handed out to kin and strangers alike from the priests in the cities, giving a soft comforting scent despite the cold of the year. Tokens of clay are tied to them, the symbol of Athlyk upon them.

 

Bells ring and songs are sung. Old and young come together and travel, talking about business from the past year and how time sometimes flies by. As they pass through, more pilgrims join in, travelling together.

 

Some travel to share their griefs or joys from the year. Some travel to ask for blessings for the coming future.

 

Some wish to know more of their own future, looking for diviners to give them insight.

 

Reasons aplenty, they travel on to Quarrymill in the South Shore.

 

[align=center]We must use time wisely and forever realize that the time is always ripe to do right.[/align]

 

 

[align=center][/align]

 

Event Details

[Steel Wolf]

Steel stood at the edge of the wooden bridge that headed towards the Maelstrom's headquarters. She hadn't been home in a long while, and felt the sea breeze cut across her newly shortened hair. It felt good to have it off her shoulders. Good to be in armor again. Good to be home.

 

She was about to celebrate her independence from a ballroom dress by heading to the Hunt Board when a Mail Moogle fluttered up to her, impeding her path in that alarming way the creatures often do.

 

"Kupo! There's a letter for you Miss Hammasandwich!"

 

Steel sidefrowned and rolled her eyes at the slaughter of her last name, taking up the offered envelope from the tiny fuzzy paw. The moogle fluttered off, swaying as the weight of his mail pouch was buffeted by the sea wind. She idly tore the side of the envelope off and pulled the simple letter out.

 

Steel,

 

I pray this letter finds you well.

 

I may have found a match for you in the form of an acquaintance of mine a sea wolf by the name of Tausenadel Geispyrsyn. He's a fine fellow, runs with decent company. He's a busy man with an affinity for a strong drink, sassy women and a good laugh. While love may be something you have to work for, he's good people and may be what you need for right now.

 

 

I've made reservations for the two of you at the Bismark for the week's end. All expenses have been covered, please enjoy yourself.

 

 

Enclosed are the reservation details.

 

 

I pray Menphina shines on your evening.

 

 

Grace

 

Steel's eyes grew wide in a mixture of surprise, shock and...fear? All of a sudden there was a someone who actually wanted to meet her. And at the Bismarck to boot.

 

Once more, the worry of clothing crept up in to her mind. Now what was she supposed to put on?

[Steel Wolf]

Dear Ms. Steel Wolf,

 

It takes a great amount of courage and inner strength to protect another’s life with your own. Bodyguard work is not a feat to be taken lightly and I think too many people underestimate the dangers of the job. Take another for granted.

 

For that, and for all the people who may of forgotten to thank you or shunned you, thank you. I hope that you may accept this rather large parcel with a red velvet cheesecake within it. An appreciative gift for all that you’ve done for your past, present, and future clients.

 

You may of noticed I tucked a cherry blossom flower into your parcel. In Limsa Lominsa, the language of the cherry blossom is one that may resonate with you. It symbolizes the dance of life and death. In a way, it represents our own mortality. How we all host beauty but that beauty will one day wither and our souls will be ferried to the life beyond. This dance is one that you work with for a living and I hope that you continue your steps with grace.

 

For now, may your Starlight be ever merry,

~ Captain Ezhara Jinkjahl, Matriarch of the Moonlight Dew.

[Ciel]

There was joy in the Hall, but Ciel struggled to feel it. After delivering her report to Kin, she shuffled off to her quarters and closed the door, allowing silence to reign even though she didn't hear it. Her mind still swirled with the sights she and the others were confronted with, the cries of the survivors, the taunts of the Reaver Captain and his men. The smell of sickness and death still clung to her attire, something all too familiar from years before. It lacked the same notes of fire and ash, but no matter how many different ways the smell presented itself, it was never any less stomach-turning.

 

We weren't fast enough for some of them... if only we had gone sooner. As soon as we knew where they were being taken, we could have saved just one life more. Several more. But no, we were biding our time, enjoying ourselves as others suffered. I cannot abide this to happen again. Next time, I will give chase and...

 

The songstress drew a long breath which gave way to a shuddering sob as her own thoughts confronted her again with more of the same images. Most of the captives had been women, some of them children, and how many of those children had endured the same or been forced to watch as the pirates had their way with their mothers? Their sisters? And the piles of bodies in the Deckhands' Quarters. How many of them had still been abused even after they had gone cold?

 

Cut any bonds on the captives, and cut the throats of any Reavers we find along the way.

 

Her own words came back to her. She had ordered the other members of her party to kill their enemies, not just disable them. Surely if the Reavers were all Drowned thralls to Leviathan, death was a kindness, more of one than they deserved under the circumstances. Although she had met plenty of admirable pirates during her many travels, there always existed tales of those who were anything but, and who thrived on greed, lust, and violence, and the Order had met them all in Sastasha. Surely no god, no Primal, would drive men to such ends. No, these things were deeply rooted in their hearts even before they were Drowned. Cut their throats, cut them free of their thrall, and let their souls burn in an unmarked grave for eternity and a day.

 

Ciel shook her head to momentarily silence the chaos. Her bow, Starcrossed Serenade, was shrugged off of her shoulder and placed on her bed along with her hat. The rest of her attire was peeled away piece by piece and dropped unceremoniously to the floor, only to be shoved into a corner with a now bare foot. All of it would need a soak, but perhaps several days of soaking, soap, and perfume wouldn't be enough to take out that damn smell, and with it, the memory. She would still feel it even if no one else noticed.

 

Leaning, she turned the handle to start filling the bath. It had to be hot, as hot as her soft skin could bear, enough to wash away the unseen blood which still clung to her and had soaked in deeper than the skin's surface. The incensory on the counter was also set alight. She hadn't changed out the oil drops recently, so it still gave off an aroma of clove and lavender, soothing enough but she felt unsure of just how much it would help to settle her.

 

Mish is fine, at least. She is a bright, brave, strong girl, with such a future ahead of her. I pray she never has to relive anything like this. And hopefully she doesn't go running off alone again...

 

She reached over again to cut the flow of water, and fumbled to open a small glass phial of lilac oil. Just a few drops would be enough to fill the room, and mingle the floral scent with the gentle wisps of incense smoke. Capping that, she lowered herself into the bath and sank up to her chin. Ciel would have even closed her eyes if not for the images which still waited behind her eyelids.

 

Dozens of lives saved, even if some might never be the same again... that must count for something. And we all made it back to the Hall in one piece. Even Captain Arashi was kind enough to lend his ship to transport those who were from Thanalan, and Kale met them in Vesper Bay with some of the other Immortal Flames. If these are all the blessings we can count from this, then that will have to suffice.

[Askier]

Kkkbdbfb

[Kellach Woods]

"Do you know how hard you are to track down these days, kupo? You adventurers really should stay in the same place if you're expecting mail!"

 

"Cut me some slack, Postmoogle, I got fired and lost the only place I actually hung around for more than a few hours."

 

"It's already a hard enough time just to get this letter! My fluttery composure is strained by sea air, kupo! In any case, here you are and have a wonderful day! It's time for me to relax in a niiiice ba-... Erm, I mean, a Postmoogle's job is never done, kupo!"

 

Thus, floateth away the Postmoogle, disappearing into the aether or whatever have you. Kellach was thus left with a strange letter from a far less strange sender. His brother sending him another letter after the first one he sent, telling him their father had died warmed his heart. Einrich had never been one for communication with his little brother. Behind his silly mask, Kellach smiled.

 

"Time to crack this open and see what news came from the homeland." he says to himself. Taking his rightmost gauntlet off, he cuts open the letter using a carefully filed and manicured nail, before putting on the gauntlet once more and reading the letter.

 

I trust this letter finds you well. As you likely surmised, I did not write to you with the intent on asking about your well-being. You do not live here without learning to fend for yourself and carve a little bit of life for you and as such, I will skip these pleasantries and continue with the facts.

 

The town council unconditionally surrendered to Garlemald around a moon ago. Obviously, we did not have any power to defend ourselves, but I am not proud of our people with this decision. Ever since you left, I started keeping myself informed of the goings-on in the world, and suffice it to say that I feel this decision will be very detrimental to our well-being, as well as our traditions.

 

Of course, I'd rather the town and the farms be alive than dead, but with each passing day that I head to the village, I hear of a fellow that was harassed by soldiers passing through for wearing an Offering gown. With what sailors have told me of Garlemald, this is likely to continue, until our very people are empty shells, calling themselves Garleans.

 

I personally started keeping a hidden journal of our traditions. An expanded Book of Rites, if you will. I'd always considered our service to the elements an ineffective folly, but that folly deserves to be preserved and not stamped out by those who would replace it with worse sophistry. Our folly gives us meaning as a people and has taught us much of altruism and life itself. Theirs is mere servitude for the sake of serving.

 

Eorzea is the only place that, according to these sailors, has managed to stand up to Garlemald. As such, I would bid you remain on the continent, instead of rushing to our defense in an ineffective attempt at rescuing us when only our way of life is threatened. As I try and compile what little history we have and every aspect of our traditions, you will be the one to carry them into the future once this journal is complete. I know you have had an interest in our traditions, Brother, or you would never have came back for your Book of Rites.

 

Meanwhile, I will do my best to keep our traditions alive - I have petitioned the elder to allow me on the town council as the head of the household. Garlemald regards our traditions as the signs of a people weak of mind. Perhaps negotiating with someone who thought the same may allow me some time to compile everything, and perhaps even let us keep a few of them.

 

As you have likely surmised, any Eorzean trade ship is to be shot on sight as soon as it appears within view, and they have stationed a few ships here to do exactly that. If you know any traders that are planning to use the route you took to get here to pay respects to Father, then advise them of the situation.

 

Brother, nay, Kellach - I know someday you will grow into the hero you always wanted to be. I remember when the minstrels told you of adventurers, how your eyes glowed of a golden light even bolder than my own. I hope that when we meet again, you will be able to regale me of your adventures.

 

May Wind kiss your face and Earth bless your steps,

your brother Einrich

 

P.S. : Knowing you, you must be wearing something ridiculous right now. Please stop.

 

Kellach looked more defeated by this news than being fired. The home that he left, taken over by Garlemald? There was always that possibility, and he wondered why that hadn't been done. Why now, to boot. Still, many questions without answers. He sighed, and rummaged through his belongings to compose an answer. Fortunately, the Postmoogle could easily be found in one of the cities, but he had to be brief. Likely they would not deliver it straight to Einrich, as they did to him, since he was not on Eorzea.

 

He walked towards a nearby outpost and began to write a very short reply.

 

Garlemald? They are very much bad news, Brother. They have no pity, and take no quarters against any who would stand against them. I am relieved that you do not plan on firmly opposing them, but do be careful. I hear they regard any disobedience as outright treason!

 

In so far as your journal is concerned, as soon as you have it made, I will ensure that it is kept safe and if you wish it so, its contents distributed among the populace here. I doubt many would care, but the more information is distributed, the less it has a chance to die out.

 

Myself, I have some bad personal news, but those are inconsequential compared to yours so I will not relate them here. Still, I am glad that you are doing something for our people. I, however, am afraid I must disappoint you. I will not grow into the hero you believe I can be. Perhaps in those days, I wanted to be a hero, and I can't say I don't want to be one still - However, I will never be a hero. I am far too much of a disappointment to lay claim to that title.

 

Until next time, Brother, where I hope I will not have disappointed you.

- your Brother, Kellach

 

P.S. Hush, Brother. This outfit is amazing.

 

He quietly chucked to himself thinking that he was the only one who liked it. He cared not. He liked it, and that was that. Still, he would have to hand this to the Postmoogle next time he was in town, and hope that it can make its way to his brother.

[Ha'uruh Nunh]

He laid on his back, listening to the soft breathing of the others in the converted inn room that had become "home" over the last year.  Warm, bare skin pressed up against his side.

 

Judgment - not a good card, but not a bad one, maybe.  It suggested trials to come, more tests.  Warren had joked that the card was late, that it represented everything that had already happened, not what was to come.  Howl hadn't wanted to even ask a question, had just wanted the fortune-teller to tell him whatever the Keeper moved her to say.  It wasn't so much that he'd wanted to know what the future held, but that he just wanted an omen for what to expect, what to brace himself towards, what to prepare for.

 

He rolled over onto his side, touching his forehead against that warm skin.  He was wasting the night with worrying when he should be sleeping.  It didn't really matter what judgment was coming his way in the new year.  He had this now, and it was home.

[Dogberry]

It never failed that after a major Aether expenditure, Iskierka would feel weak and tired. She had never before spoken in tongues, though. The testimony of her companions last night played back in her head. Slurring her words. Speaking another language?

 

Iskierka's mask was off, and even though nobody was around she was trying not to be seen. She wasn't sure why. Most of the people here didn't seem all that put off by her face when they had seen it. Her face no longer felt like her own anymore. Of course it wasn't. It belonged to the one who marred it. The mask was her face now. Without her mask she felt invisible, or she wanted to be anyway. She ate quickly, hunched over her food like an animal and hoping nobody would walk up on her. With the food done, she put the dishes aside.

 

Iskierka took her cards from last night and shuffled them. She placed three cards down from left to right. The Self, The Obstacle, The Resolution. The turned over the first. The Magician. The second, The Devil. The third, The Devil.

 

Iskierka paused. She picked up the two identical cards and inspected them. They seemed real enough. The counted the cards, and all were there. She shuffled the cards back in, and inspected each one. There was only one Devil card in the deck.

 

She hurriedly put her cards away, and then gathered her dishes to wash them. She set to the task as fast as possible and made her way quickly to the Arcanist guild. On the way, something overcame her. A phrase came into her head in a language she didn't know, but she knew the meaning.

 

Malpirg de izizop.

 

Burn the vessel.

[111]

((Cross Posting this in Verad's thread as well))

 

Orrin Halgren feels the end of the weathered spear ring out against her shield, and he uses the contact to push away, hopping backwards lightly. Lowering his practice weapon, he looks to her with a nod "Good." The Dragoon gives a rare smile and nods, "Keep in mind how you moved, for that is the whole of the exercise." He looks into her eyes "What stands before you Ms. Primrose are your desires and impulses made flesh; whereas your weapon and shield are discretion and will power. See how your urges seek to abuse every weak point. Weak Points that you created, due to the ways you deflect impulses and desires. Take note that I am lightly clothed with a lighter weapon, and you are encumbered. You shall surely tire before I do." Looking her over, "This is meditation, meditation on your defenses. The more gracefully you put aside your urges, the longer it will take for you to tire. "

 

Evangeline smiles, "Dangerous words, I think from a dragoon." She tilts her head, "So I should not fight my desires head on? But perhaps circumvent them, or even use them to my advantage?"

 

Orrin shakes his head, "We deal with our urges in different ways, You have chosen to fight these in a particular way, only repetition will tell how long you can continue." he says readying his spear, before repeating the same attack pattern he had used countless times this night.

 

Evangeline nods, stopping the first two strikes as before, tilting her shield and stepping forward, but for the last, she steps forward again, and using the weight of both her and her armor she pushes into him, knocking the man off balance.

 

Her trainer is pushed back and he stumbles somewhat "I am not teaching you combat, I am teaching you meditation through it. Block the same way each time, if you think of how to counter, your mind will not be focused.. You must accept your weaknesses and fight through them. That is introspection, change will comes afterwards.

 

Evangeline pauses, looking as if she wishes to argue, but finally relents, "Very well.... though I'm not very good at staying still." She returns to her ready position.

.

Orrin nods "That is why you are training, isn’t it?" readying the lance, "Again" he barks in a drill master's tone, attacking the same way, fluidly, quickly, never speeding up or slowing down from his original assault. Were she to deflect it he'd bark for another set, then another and another till they had completed another thirty, or Evangeline fails to deflect one, either due to exhaustion or boredom.

 

She continues, though her mind seems to tire long before her body does. The defensive pattern was efficient on her body, but torturous on her mind, and it wanders, thinking of other topics, until at last, she forgets to step forward, and the staff hits her with it's full leverage and power, sending her stumbling sideways into the ground. "Sorry... I got distracted."

 

He lowers his spear and nods, "Your movements were fine, I had yet to see your body tire." walking over and offering a hand "Get up, we go again."

 

Evangeline takes the hand and pulls herself up with a grumble, "I thought this was going to be more exciting… doing the same thing over and over feels like a waste of time.”

 

Orrin lets go of her "This is what your mind faces, each and every moment, Ms Primrose. It knocks on the door relentlessly, seeking entry. If the door is locked it seeks an open window, a vent, a hatch, a crawlway. It will never cease. Someday you may train your mind, making it fluid enough to deflect it, but now, it must be sturdy enough to stop the first knock.”

 

"I tried to be fluid... to deal with it more efficiently each time, but you wouldn't allow me!" She sighs, "It's like the dragons. Think of the first one who thought to use their power against them! Mindless repetition will get us nowhere! you should know that as well as I."

 

The Dragoon shakes his head "No, you are losing focus, this is about the sanctity and sureness of your thoughts. We practice the movements until we transcend thought and simply -act-. Only then shall you achieve clarity of thought unclouded by influence. Trust in me, Miss Primrose, you seeked my training, please accept it."

 

She shakes her head, "First answer me this." She steps forward, "The Holy See and the holy writings declare the dragons profane. They always have." She steps forward and pokes a hand into his chest, "But someone broke them. The original Dragoons accepted the dragons taint in exchange for their power. That is not... mindless sanctity."

 

He meets her eyes steadily, "You seek not the power of the Dragoon, only its discipline, the mind of a knight. This is how it is obtained, how one can accept a dragon's power into one'self and not let it bend you to its will. Or another other power, for that matter. " He continues, not unkindly. "I told you this will not be easy, but if you wish to prevent your mind from being swayed so easily, then you must follow my path"

 

Evangeline tenses as if she wants to argue more, then finally deflates, "Fine. There is something I haven't told you, the reason I asked for this training."

 

Orrin readies his weapon at first and then looks to her "Speak."

 

"I spoke of a drake, in thanalan, one slain by my companions and I."

 

He nods, “Yes, I was surprised at the tale.”

 

She continues nervously, "It... dropped a stone, which I picked up." Shaking her head, "It... called to me, filled my head with visions, urges… Before I knew what I was doing, I had convinced two more to touch it, to feel its influence."

Orrin’s face betrays no emotion, “This stone..where is it?”

 

Evangeline studies him as she speaks gauging his reaction, "I only know vaguely... those with more sense than I took it from me, I still... wish to see it from time to time. I believe it to be in Master Verad's house, if you know the name."

 

He shakes his head "I do not. But what you speak of is true..." he readies his spear "Again." he says, barking the command..

 

She raises her weapons, "I... did wish to repeat the experience."

 

Orrin’s voice softens for a moment, “Then you need this more than you know." Then he strikes, the exact same way, untiringly, contiuing relentlessly until she falters once more.

 

Evangeline forces down her nervousness and takes his attacks, forcing herself to concentrate. Her arms and legs begin to tire, but her unease gives her strength as she loses herself in the rhythm.

[Coatleque]

((Note, this occurs the night of Starlight itself.))

---

The sound of drunken laughter echoed through the halls of the estate's top floor. No door was able to stop the loud bellowing as the man proceeded back towards the main hall where the party was being held. Within a large office, however, a certain fiery haired woman sat behind a large oaken desk. She exhaled slowly through her mouth as the noise died down and quietly raised the parchment she had snatched a moment before back to the surface.

 

She perused the document once more to be sure there were no mistakes. Her mouth moved silently as she read it over, then quickly made out the amount of one hundred-thousand gil to be paid to the orphanage from the estate of Jameson Taeros.

 

The crack of a dying fire in the hearth opposite her caused a panicked jump once more. Staring at the door for another moment she could hear no one from the hall, so she returned the quill to the inkwell. Taking the key she managed to swipe earlier while he was distracted by preparations, she unlocked the drawer to her right with a soft *click*, and opened it to reveal an assortment of business-related items. The most important of which was an engraved seal of gold with a mahogany handle.

 

Taking the wax she had prepared, she pooled a small amount at the bottom of the document then quickly smushed the seal into it before returning it to the drawer, closing and locking it once more.

 

The sound of footsteps outside had her quickly roll up the document as she sprang from the desk and around the corner to a small dressing area. She sat in front of a vanity and quickly hid the document under the rest of her things before taking up a hair brush and trying her best to look busy. She only hoped he would not notice her shortness of breath.

 

Jameson came around the corner half a moment later and smiled at her. "Still getting ready? Come now, you must greet Lord Mandercrown before he decides to... lose his pants again." He moved in quickly and leaned down to kiss the side of her neck as her head turned away instinctively. "You look stunning tonight."

 

"Mmm... must I? Please tell me he is not inebriated already? I pity that maidservant of his."

 

He stood upright again and offered his arm to which she also rose and took with hers.

 

"I do apologize, but it is business after all. Fear not, there will be plenty of... distraction once my guests have left."

 

"You are positively incorrigible!", she replied as he led her off to the party. She looked back briefly as the door closed. Plenty of time to come up with an excuse, or some kind of cover should he even notice the paltry sum missing. For all her risk, Coatleque hoped she could at least give a few children a happy Starlight this year.