Bulletin Board

[Oscare]

Oscare stands, once again, lonesome in the heart of Sagolii Desert. Byregot's Strike, to be more exact. Crossing his arms, he briefly reviews himself of the past few days and events. The grief he's caused for Jancis, the trouble he spiraled down on Hornet.

 

And Crofte's attitude yesterday was definitely not something he expected from Crofte. She almost seemed violent to the poor Kage. It's as if the continent just flipped itself upside down, or if Oscare is just in that bad of a condition as he hoped he wouldn't be. This bow thief was getting to him. Soon enough, he'd lose the little humanity and sanity left of him. 

 

The sand brushes his face and litters his hair. His goggles defending his eyes from the small particles. The sooner he can get his bow back, the better off he can be. He can move in and actually help others.

 

That Kage, boy, though. "Something's up with him. I wonder what."

[Kage]

((The following are logs of Kage digging his own ditch.))

http://pastebin.com/6AaCXtgr

http://pastebin.com/n1HRjDX7

 

((The following takes place after Natalie's post in What does not kill...))

 

Natalie was tired of it all and so was he. After his desperate attempts to scramble up Osric Melkire for his plot to hang Natalie, Kage had only dug his grave. Either with those he thought would serve Ul'dah better such as Ser Crofte or Sergeant Melkire or by the wretched snake of Ul'dah that he saw represented by one fop Jameson Taeros.

 

It had been why he eventually started to talk to the highlander, Oscare in the Quicksand. He was tired of it, doing things out of desperation. Dancing to someone else's tunes for that one small moment of reprieve. Roen's life was out of their hands now. What else could they hold over him? Natalie?

 

He closed his eyes as he nursed his glass of sweet water. Aye, for Natalie he would have been willing to do anything and everything. In fact, he still was, but he could sense that she too was tired of it all. The talk in the airship bar had confirmed it for him. He was tired of what he had become.

 

What had he killed those men for?

 

It -was- all for naught.

 

At least now Kage was resolved to live his life as he had before Jameson Taeros. It was probably too little too late. Kage didn't expect to live long with either Taeros or Swift.

[Whittledown]

Hornet's room was filled with the scent of warm tea and honey. Aya had sent along some biscuits and honey candies along with the tea with honey that Hornet had requested. The warmth and the fine scent had relaxed Hornets nerves enough that she was finally able to sit and reflect on what had been a very eventful couple of days. She sat at her dresser on a short stool and began the process of removing her makeup so she could take a hot, steamy bath without it running in ugly lines down her face.

 

Hornet worked slowly and with precision as she cleaned her face of her lipstain and the yellow stripe across her eyes. As she did, she thought of how it began. She had gone to the Grindstone with the intent of working off some of her negative feelings. Losing the chance to be with Dhemgeim had hurt more than she had wanted to admit and she was frankly dreading seeing Dhem and Dogberry together. She was feeling bitter and it made her dislike herself. The fighting had been fun and even though she had lost in her second match to the nible Miqo'te lancer Mahvashi she had begun to feel better. It was nice to see familiar faces and the Grindstone had almost always been a happy visit for her. It was how she had met Gharen after all.

 

After the fighting was done she spotted Jancis among the spectators and gently drew her away from Alveo and the others for a quick word. Alveo had been acting oddly, Hornet was concerned that he was becoming jealous of the attention Jancis had been getting from other men recently. Deserved attention really, Jancis was a lovely woman. Still, an jealous man with a martial background could be trouble. When Jancis confided in Hornet and Alveo's state attributed to more potentially matrimonial concerns Hornet felt an immense burden lift from her shoulder.

 

The smile on Jancis' lips and the shy radiance of her happines had reminded Hornet of something vitally important. Love was real. It was all around. And even if she and Dhemgeim had not come together, she should at the least be happy that Dhemgeim was happy and finding love herself. Hornet had promised to support Dhemgeim however Dhemgeim needed her to, and now as she basked in Jancis's joy she knew she could do it. She could be the friend that Dhemgeim needed her to be. She could support Dhemgeim's relationship with Dogberry. She could do it.

 

Feeling strong and confident Hornet moved to retire to the Hourglass for the night but along the way encountered Dhemgeim. Dhemgeim did not seem well and after some gentle cajoling Hornet drew her outside the city walls to talk. Hornet was direct in her questions and learned much that she had already supected. She learned about Dhemgeim, Tau, and Dogberry and how their relationships had intertwined. As much as she liked Tau, what she learned that day turned her sympathy to Dogberry and she encouraged Dhemgeim to pursue this new relationship. And then Dhemgeim threw up.

 

Hornet guided Dhemgeim back inside and got her a room. She stayed by Dhem's side through the night, making sure she was going to be all right and cleaning out the basin she had used to catch Dhemgeim's sick. It wasn't an exciting night, but it was important. When morning came she felt energized again even though she had barely slept and once she was certain Dhemgeim would be all right she left.

 

The next few hours were spent wandering Ul'dah while wearing an illegally obtained Sultansworn outfit and asking people how their days were going. It was a good bit of fun and Hornet enjoyed adopting the formal manner of speaking she had heard from the likes of Crofte and the free paladin Warren Castille. It was while she was on "patrol" that she encountered the very lovely figure of Rivienne Delacroux.

 

Hornet was never short of flattery for a beautiful girl and she let a river of compliments flow as she spoke with Rivienne. It was not simple flirtation though. Hornet learned of Rivienne's family and a mystery brewing. She offered her assistance to Rivienne in the form of translating a journal out of Ishgardian and then arranging a meeting with a very scholarly friend of hers to decipher what aetheric secrets the journal contained. It felt good to be helping someone and, Hornet would freely admit, she truly enjoyed making Rivienne blush. There was a thinly veiled invitation to a dinner date once the translation was complete, and then Hornet was off again.

 

Hornet found Dogberry in the Goblet. She knew there was a chance he was expecting a fight. She explained her position to him, that she still loved Dhemgeim but that she would be supporting him and the relationship he was to have with Dhemgeim. He tried to empathize with Hornet and she found herself annoyed, but remained civil. She didn't want his empathy, she wanted his promise that he would be the best man in the world for Dhemgeim and that he would love her well enough for both of them. "Scuttle me if I don't." He had said. "I will." Hornet had replied before quitting the scene and returning to the Hourglass.

 

Hornet spent the next several hours in her room at the Hourglass transcribing the journal in her neat, precise hand. She spoke to Kaylie over her pearl and worried for the girl but was then relieved to learn that Rinilda had prevented Kaylie from going on her self-imposed exile. She would have to thank Rinilda next time she saw her. And Dhemgeim was off hunting Leviathan, which seemed to suit the world at large. Hornet was content with her work and was genuinely enjoying the steady rhythm of translation. However eye-strain and the constant motion of her wrist had forced her to take a break and retire out to the Quicksand for a drink and to listen to the crowd.

 

Happily while she was sitting she caught sight of the mysterious and devastatingly handsome Oscare Iono and invited him to join her. He did and the pair enjoyed a few moments quiet conversation. Hornet was enjoying learning more about Oscare and offered her help with his missing bow situation when Dhemgeim contacted her. Dogberry had been injured, the extent of which was not revealed to her at the time, and Dhemgeim told her she would be staying with him for a time. Hornet was concerned but not overly so and offered to assist however she could.

 

Just then, Berrod arrived with grim news. A man he referred to as 'The Captain' had lost his legs. He did not recall the mans name but Oscare helpfully provided clarification. Dogberry. The injury Dhemgeim had apparently tried to downplay was actually a double amputation. Hornet was stunned by the news. She reached out to Dhemgeim full of apologies and promises of assistance. A horrible sadness washed over her, tinged with a nagging sensation of guilt. Somehow this was her fault. She had encouraged Dhemgeim's feelings for Dogberry and had told Dogberry that she supported him. And then this happened. Hornet had to flee the Quicksand and took a short walk, trying to calm herself and keep from bursting into hysterics.

 

Oscare found her only a few minutes later. Hornet sat on one of the stone benches of Ul'dah, face in her hands, struggling not to dissolve into tears. Oscare comforted her and apologized for bringing Dogberry's name out. She leaned against him and, to his credit, he was not awkward with the contact. He told her a story, a fable of sorts about a girl with golden hair. Hornet enjoyed it and recalling it made her smile slightly even if she couldn't remember all the details. After she had calmed a bit she and Oscare returned inside where she got him some water for his throat and thanked him with a chaste kiss on his forehead before retiring.

 

The last traces of yellow were gone from her skin and the bath she had run was steaming up the bathroom. Shedding her clothes Hornet slipped into the warm water and closed her eyes. She could do this. She could be strong for Dhemgeim through this trial. She could help Rivienne and become closer to her. She could learn more about Oscare and continue to thank him for his kindness. She could do these things. She must.

[Berrod Armstrong]

Alone at last. 

 

Berrod barely waited for the bathroom door to shut properly before shucking off the damp, salty leathers that clung to his clammy skin. A steady frown was stamped onto his lips; it was standard fare whenever he took a bath, but tonight's expression bore the weight of haunted haggardness. The gloves flopped onto the floor, the coat was shed carelessly and his boots kicked off. Trousers and smallclothes followed, all damp, salty, and with that slight, sickening smell of seaweed. He'd have to either charm or bully the inn girl into laundering them for him later. 

 

Under normal circumstances the Highlander would have nothing of a bath after being thoroughly soaked, but tonight the smell of the sea offended him. He needed to get rid of it, or he wouldn't have a sound sleep for the night -- of that he was certain. With a scowl back at the pile of wet clothing, Berrod approached the tub. 

 

It was a nice wooden one, deep and with a pump for hot water regulated by a few fire crystals. Berrod leaned over the edge and cranked the mechanism rapidly -- he really wanted to get the bath over with as soon as possible. With a gurgle the water sputtered and began pouring into the tub, immediately raising a light steam. The mere sight of it caused the ruddy hairs on the back of Berrod's neck to stand on end, but he ignored the discomfort after attributing it to his exhaustion. 

 

He wanted it hot, but not too hot. It wouldn't do for him to just start sweating right after a bath, after all. His muscular arm went down into the water to slosh around and gauge the temperature. Good enough. The water rolled back and forth and lapped against the edge of the tub.

 

A wall of thundering indigo that rises to the skies and approaches at a speed that means certain death...

 

Berrod blinked and clutched the edge of the tub with white knuckles, quite unable to explain the sudden, cold fist that gripped his heart and forced his breathing to come in short gasps. As always, his pride insisted that he was never beyond instant recovery and sought to disregard the alarming reaction. Cursing and grumbling under his breath, the Highlander lifted a leg to begin climbing into the tub.

 

A harrowing roar sounds, and a wet mass crashes against the steel, twisting the railings and tilting the vessel. He can't do anything as he slides down, down toward the deep blue sea...

 

Berrod's back hit the floor with a painful thud that only intensified the horrible confusion that gripped him. Again it was hard to breathe normally, and his heart hammered in his chest. A sickening dizziness took to his gut and he retched. Fortunately, dinner had been skipped on account of a possible rough ride at sea. It was somewhat difficult to ignore that particular instance of panic -- which only surged as he stood and looked at the half filled tub. The water...terrified him. It terrified him and he didn't understand why. The Lord of the Whorl had been vanquished, and he was safe in Ul'Dah once more. Still -- a sudden and clear preference was given to smelling a little like sea-weed.

 

He stopped the water pump and reached down to unplug the tub, watching with satisfaction as the liquid swirled down the drain. 

 

The water surrounds them all, a closed cylinder of shadowy liquid death as high as the eye could see, closing in to end them all. The dark, serpentine figure swam around in circles, each fleeting circuit marking a countdown to the end...

 

A gutteral cry left Berrod's lips as he stumbled backward and fell again, this time with his back to the bathroom door. It was so hard to breathe, and his chest hurt. His stomach kept clenching -- he was sure that he'd throw up if there was anything in it. Every limb shook like a leaf in the wind.

 

Suddenly, unbidden, the pump began pouring water again, dark and indigo. The sound of straining glass drew his attention to the small, rectangular bathroom window. Instead of the usual sight of the starry night sky, it was deep blue and swirled with a distinct current. Cracks spidered along the glass. 

 

The tub started to overflow and the deep blue liquid rapidly spread to the floor. Through the debilitating panic, the need for action struck Berrod into motion. He needed to get out of the room, and soon. Caring nothing for his nudity he stood on shaking legs to face the door -- just as a crash and thundering roar signaled the breaking of the window. A jet of dark blue poured into the room in a great deluge -- it wouldn't be long until the place was flooded. Without hesitation, the Highlander moved to wrench the door open.

 

The door handle broke off in his hand, and the door remained steady on it's frame. Dark water poured from the hole the handle had broken open. Deep blue began leaking at the door's frames, running down with a sinister trickle. The thundering flood had not abated from the window -- already the water was at his hips, and the wood of the door creaked with strain. 

 

Berrod lost himself to terror. All he could do was desperately place his hands on the wet door as the water lapped at his navel. His forehead joined his palms as he murmured in a trembling plea.

 

"P-please. Please lemme wake up. Please..."

[Oscare]

Oscare barges into the Maelstrom office; looking, simple put, angry. One of the commanding officers looks up the dark-toned man and stare flatly, greeting the hunter. "Hello, Oscare. I suppose you're here for your payment on your latest mission?" He inquires, prompting Oscare to grit his teeth and narrow his eyebrows.

 

"Yes, but keep your damned gil. I need information, and lots of it." Oscare slams his fist down in front of the officer, which actually spooks the other man and causing the officer to jump back in his chair. Raising his arms in defensive instinct, the man look behind him to the other officers and members and mouths something.

 

"Okay, okay. We'll get you what you want! Just don't be so violent, yeah?" He pauses, going through some papers that didn't receive Oscare's thundering, burly fist. "Well, I think you'd be interested in knowing that the Twin Adders have successfully cornered your thief. You may go down to the South Shroud and retrieve your bow after the Adders have disposed of them, or--"

 

"Or I can go and dispose of him myself? I'll take the latter." Oscare responds quickly and sharply, leaving the officer wordless for a minute. "My next bit of information is the Kracken. I need to know about him. Or her. Whatever the fuck it is."

 

 

The officer becomes wide-eyed. "The one rumored to live on Hullbreaker Isle? The ships we're preparing to head out there will be done... I'd say next week."

 

"Good. Sign me up into one of them." Again, the officer looks like he's at a lost for words. "Now, I have a very... special request." The officers perks up, his face dreading Oscare's next words. "Kage Kiryuu, from the Brass Blades. You did get the dirt I needed on him, correct?" The Storm officer shakes his head in response.

 

"That's Brass Blades business, which means it's Immortal Flames business. There isn't much I can gather besides the obvious. We have, however... sent a contract to find said information. You'll have it soon." The response was grim. Oscare nods and slams a hefty bag of gil in front of the officer.

 

"I'll be back soon. Expect me."

[111]

Natalie climbed to the peak of the small outpost, her feet already twinging painfully. It seems that the Sultansworn’s short patrols around the padded carpet of the Royal Court had left her feet soft. As she reached the top she stretched for a moment, then looked towards the west.

 

 

Kage had talked of running, and the rosy fingers of dawn crept through the pass leading to Vesper Bay like an open invitation. They could leave, like Roen, be free of this all. She allows herself to dream for a moment of that life… perhaps in Limsa, or Gridania. Kage could work gold, like his family taught him, and she could heal. They’d have to take different names, but it would be worth it. Stability… Peace…

 

She’s jolted out of her revelry by a waterskin thrust into her field of vision. “Sir” Says the brass blade holding it.

 

She takes it gratefully, “Thanks, but haven’t you heard?” she chuckles before taking a long drink of the cool water, “I’ve been demoted. Seems I’m not cut out for this City.”

 

“Don’t say that Sir…” the Blade says softly, “You’re as Ul’dah as gold itself.”

 

She shakes her head, “As I said… I’m no longer a Lieutenant, you don’t need to call me sir.”

 

He chuckles, “I don’t call you Sir for that, here, let me show you something.” He pulls up the side of his hauberk, revealing several long ropy scars along the side of his chest. “Beastmen did this… damn ambush, before I could even react one of them had left my entrails spilling out into the the dirt.” He grins at her, “Fortunately though there was royal correspondence on a nearby Caravan, and help came quickly. They even sewed me up afterwards, quite the honor for filth like me.”

 

She gives him a wry smile, “And after that, you’ve never felt like leaving this place? You’ve never cursed fighting the Amaj for pennies, while the public curses your name?”

 

He laughs, “Sir… Ul’dah’s the worst city in the world. But it’s my home.”

 

She laughs as well and walks past him, seeing the domes of the city silhouetted by the rising dawn, “Aye… our home.” She smiles and watches it for a long moment.

 

“And money can’t buy that.”

 

[Oscare]

Oscare awakes to the sun rays caressing his face in the morning. The Hourglass has provided him a bed to sleep for the night, not the usual treatment he'd get. He just happened to have a few extra gil to spend that day, thankfully. Opening the windows to let in the full extent of the sun to embrace the room, a knock in the room is head. 

 

 

"Come in!" 

 

 

"Oscare Iono?!" A Maelstrom-uniformed member barges into the door immediately after being granted response. He was carrying a letter in one hand while performing the Storm-salute with the other free hand.

 

"The hell were you thinking coming to Ul'dah like that?!" Oscare, still shirtless from just waking up, erupts in half-anger and half-embarrassment. He backs up to the window to take up the sun and warm up his back, the officer scrambling. 

 

"I didn't mean to, Ser! But I have an important letter that just arrived into the office for you!" The midlander member blushes and quickly tosses the letter to Oscare and runs back out the door, slamming the door behind him. Taking a quick reprieve, Oscare takes a deep breath before opening up the contents of the letter and giving them a quick once-over.

 

"Who knows? Perhaps the Brass Blades will just lock me up.

 

Yours, 

Kage"

 

"So that's what happened." Oscare chuckles, stashing the letter to the stool next to his bed and looking out the window. "Prime subject; Natalie McBeef. If this is the game you want to play, 'Brass Blades', then this is the game I'll play. Just a little warning -- I never lose."

[Jancis]

Jancis sat in the air deck of Ul'dah, occupying one the tables available by the air ships, in the early morning predawn.

 

It did not feel like the most suitable place to offer prayers for Cici who had left over a day ago, now up in Coerthas without her. Still she did anyway, for the rivers to flow and bring knowledge at hand when truly needed. For their trek to not be fruitless. And for themselves to return safely, even if all else failed.

 

The conversation still echo'ed in Jancis' mind; ultimately the lady knight was convincing enough to make her stay behind, the lapis on her hand being the main reason, instead of going north to help Sir Castille.

 

At the same time she awaited word from Oscare and what, if anything, he had found out. The idea of an enemy knowing more about the inner workings was a new concept. Either way, to be of help to anyone she had to be prepared.

 

The deck creaked as the air ship finally docked and Jancis gathered her simple parcels. She'd make for Gridania and stay there. The Shroud would be a more ideal place to wait for word from anyone.

[Warren Castille]

Kabaraja Jabaraja stood on top of a chair, flummoxed. Nobody realized exactly how much work went into maintaining the polish and shine of the Quicksand and some joker was intentionally trying to make the job harder. For the fourth time this sevenday, Kabaraja was working diligently to erase the four letters joined inside of a crudely drawn heart from one of the center pillars of the bar.

[Lady Rivienne]

The wooden door, behind her steps, creaks in supplication until it finally latches shut. Here, where candlelight dances across the room, and splashes shadows upon the walls, Rivienne shields herself from the world beyond this rented space. Golden tresses brush along her flushed cheeks; anger had finally reached her countenance and caused her flesh to heat to a new degree. Her facade finally falters, now that she is met with privacy.

 

In both arms, pressed against the cerulean fabric of her bliaud, was the leather-worn journal, which had seen better days, and the bundle of parchments given to her by Obsidian Hornet. The news they bear has stricken her of joy and left a swelling of pain at the pit of her stomach. To know that her mother had involved herself in such acts, such atrocities, would not sit well with anyone.

 

Silent footfalls carried her across the room to the well made bed that awaited her return. Upon the sheets, she placed the bundle and unfurled it once more to look at the documentation Hornet has left her with. She was thorough in her research and appeared to have translated the entire journal for her. Yet questions still lingered as to why she choice to stray away from learning and mastering the aetheric flow to obsessing over the void?

 

She was mild-mannered, with a voice of a bird, eyes filled of tenderness and a touch to match such. Rivienne could not imagine her conducting vile experiments, perverting their family name in such a fashion. Memories were now tainted and twisted by this new-found information. Rivienne knows that this could not be the end of her tale, for this journal ends abruptly, according to the notes taken by her friend, Hornet. There is much more left untold.

 

Seems she will have to uncover it herself.

[Jancis]

Jancis walked into the Maelstrom's main office, a place she was getting use to entering on a regular basis. At the counter was a familiar face, another Private who was busy with paperwork. The notion of paperwork still amazed Jancis, but at this time it would work out in her favor.

 

"Good day." she greeted. "Oh aye, 'ood day indeed. Word has come back on that operation ' tha Shroud. Well done. Something of a reward been set." the Private spoke, bringing up papers from behind the counter. Always with papers.

 

"Yes. That gil is to go to Sir Iono's coffers. Can you arrange for that?" Jancis asked politely.

 

"Aye, I can. Reward's a reward." the woman muttered a bit having to redo some of the work on the document she started filling out. "It'd be done by the morn."

 

"Thank you so much." Jancis bowed her head, which only got a quick retort, "Ye don't bow to me."

 

Leaving the office, Jancis returned to the Mizzenmast. A few days to recover, but at the same time she had to find Oscare as he requested. She'd only stay long enough to grab her basic supplies before setting out once more.

[Whittledown]

Hornet was stirred out of her sleep by a gentle buzzing in her pocket. Her eyes blinked open to a view of an endless expanse of stars. It took a moment to remember where she was and as she sat up and dug into her pocket the situation became clear. The small camp tucked away near the waterfall. Roen. Hornet looked over to where the poor girl slept. The dreamless sleep tonic that Anais had given her was working a treat and it did her heart good to see that Roen's face was placid and relaxed in sleep.

 

Her fingers found the pearl that woke her and she pulled it out. It was black. She frowned slightly and looked at Roen again to confirm she was asleep. She tucked it into her ear and spoke in a hushed voice. "Aye, what is it?"

 

"We have an opportunity for you. Three targets. Urgent priority."

 

"Wet work?" Asked Hornet.

 

"Aye. Command is offering 12,000 gil per head upon confirmation."

 

Hornet chewed her lip. "Now?"

 

"Aye, immediate departure."

 

Frowning, Hornet looked back to Roen and sighed. "Negative. Find someone else."

 

Hornet didn't wait for a response before pulling the pearl from her ear. She tucked it into her pocket with the others and settled back down to sleep. The bedroll she was using was Gharen's, but he was off gathering supplies. It smelled of him and was a comfort as she curled in and tried to go back to sleep.

[Ciel]

Ciel sat up and scrubbed tiredly at her eyes.  As comforting as her companion's presence was, the current of her thoughts kept her from sinking too far into the depths of sleep.  Hesitant to move too far, she smiled down at the Duskwight still sound asleep next to her and softly brushed a few stray locks of dark hair away from his face with her fingertips.  She had work to do, and if not for him, she might never have sought rest to begin with.

 

The songstress chewed on that thought for a moment, realizing where that left her.  She had often found herself worrying over others who went days on end with little or no proper rest, and warning them against exhaustion.  Warren, among them, always looked ready to keel over were it not for his usual pillar propping him up.  But then it was her own turn to wear herself down to bare threads, and she found her own advice to be something of a novelty.

 

Careful not to disturb her love, Ciel crawled to the end of the bed and drew her soft, silken robe across her shoulders. The thought of brewing a pot of tea to help pass the wee morning bells crossed her mind, but she had no desire to risk waking anyone else in the Hall.  She would do without.

 

Bare feet carried her a few fulms across the room to her desk, where she sank into the chair and peered blearily at the hand-scrawled notes haphazardly piled there.  She had two problems yet to resolve, the first being the missing artifact.  On the eve of one of her performances, Stillglade Fane had recalled her to track down and return some sort of orb, and she had spent the next seven suns tracking a thief who no one seems to have seen.  This made it all the more difficult, but all signs pointed back to Ul'dah, and then the trail went completely cold.

 

Ciel shuffled a couple of the papers aside, frowning at her inability to pick up the thief's trail.  The Fane saw fit to be a royal pain in the songstress' arse so long as she maintained a debt to them, and taking on this investigation was meant only to buy her more time in solving her other problem in finding the Berunda's remains.  And that precious time would only be bought if she could find the thief and return the Conjurer's Orb to Stillglade Fane.

 

'How much longer can I remain in Ul'dah and simply hope these things come to me instead?' she wondered. Patient, she may be, but idleness was beginning to grate on her nerves.

[Unnamed Mercenary]

((Since we're gonna have maintenance before 2.3, I thought it'd be fun to have an out of timeline, but fun IC event for some character building/socializing. My idea is that things that happen would still affect our characters, but their existing plots may or may not need to intersect with it. AKA a "mental health day" for some))

 

((Just look for the Onsen Omake thread))

 

It had been a few days since he'd had any real rest. Each night was either full of dreams from a past that was not his, or perhaps one that was that he no longer remembered. Trying to sort out the life of the Ishgardian Duskwight Elezen, Frhanz'ir Kirche, was mentally straining, and it was taking its toll. As Franz nil Renatus (or just Franz or Merc for short) walked through the Ul'dahn markets, an extremely peppy lalafellin merchant called out.

 

"Come one, come all! Take a chance at our gamble to win ~fabulous~ prizes! Everyone's a winner, but a lucky few can win more! Only 100 gil a try!"

 

He had plenty of money now, why not give it a chance? He walked over to the merchant to test his luck.

[Kage]

As the Miqote traveled through one of the Ul'dahn city-state gates, he gave a short nod, one that showed his appreciation and respect for those who stood at guard. Having lived a short life as one, he knew that many of the Blades were not -all- corrupt but just living with the orders given. After all, it was the state of life in Ul'dah. The city of wealth and might. Gil and politics.

 

With a heavy sigh, Kage climbed off his Chocobo, nearly tripping as in his exhaustion he had forgotten that he was taller now. He adjusted the black beret he wore, not even changing into the Brass Blades uniform. He would return it when he made his talk to the Captain.

 

Kage closed his eyes for a brief moment, seeing Roen had been an explosion of emotions. Unable to contain himself, he released a sniffle as he wiped tears from his eyes as he remembered it. Saying goodbye. He cleared his throat as he brought a finger to his ear. It was time.

[Coatleque]

Coatleque sat quietly in her office smiling to herself. Things were all falling into place quite nicely at this point. As long as nobody did anything stupid, her plan would move forward smoothly and everyone should be 'home by dinner' as it were. Sitting at the corner of her desk was a thick envelope. It's contents being the cause of all this trouble to begin with. In the wrong hands, damning evidence. In the right hands, their potential salvation. She eyed the envelope warily as if it was some great evil about to spring forth to strike her.

 

Taking up her quill and a fresh parchment she penned a letter.

Blade Captain Anden Anduron,

 

It has come to our attention that one of your members, which you believe to be a deserter, may be involved in matters pertaining to the security of Thanalan and her borders. Under the authority of Her Grace, I shall be assuming responsibility for her capture and interrogation. We must needs meet to discuss this situation as soon as you are available.

 

Sincerely,

Lady Coatleque Crofte, Sgt.

 

Once finished, she sealed the letter with the emblem of the Sultansworn, and delivered it to the Palace moogle. From there she made her way to the royal armorer. She was missing two particular emblems from her own armor, mysteriously, and this was now in need of repair...

 

Continued here...

[Melodia]

The woods were darkening as the sun began to set and the creatures living within were chattering as they always did. Fallgourd Float was bustling and Nonotano was sitting outside of the merchant shop near the gate watching people come and go. He wore his cowl, keeping his face hidden and the evening sky helped with this task. His index finger tapped lightly on his thigh and he clacked his teeth together softly inside his mouth as he watched.

 

He was a predator waiting for prey.

 

He scanned the passerby as they walked and most he disregarded as either too much for him to handle alone or not an effective target. He needed two....one to die and one to live. He needed -

 

There they were. A young woman and a man....probably a couple by the looks they were exchanging. If they wore armor it was light and small, and he saw no large swords or axes. He saw a small branch, evidence of a healer and the man wore nothing, perhaps concealing a dagger somewhere on his person. They were walking out of the gates and as they exited, he felt with his hand to ensure his dagger was still present.

 

Rising from his seat he followed at a distance , listening to their quiet talk, his limp he worked to keep as quiet as possible. As he gained some distance from the gate and didn't want to lose them he angled off to the trees and thenfall to his backside, crying out just loud enough for nearby people to hear. "Help! Help, someone, please! I'm hurt badly."

 

He could hear them approaching, and when he saw them in range he held his hand up as one might in need and then smiled, casting the sleep spell.

 

*************************************************************

The young man was waking up, and his blurred vision allowed him to see the small figure in the cowl with a stabbing motion. He was in pain but unsure why and as his focus was regained. And he saw. The little person in the cowl was stabbing his the woman, his spouse, newly married and she was still. He began to try and scream, a gurgled noise coming from his throat.

 

Gods did he hurt.

 

He couldn't move much and saw the cowled figure turn in his direction and then move to him, blad raised to his throat.

 

"You're hurt. Stabbed I'm afraid. And your woman is dead. You will live...but you're to deliver a message to the Adders at the Float. an important one. This was courtesy of the Sultansworn in Ul'dah. Tell the Adders, 'the Sultana makes her move on the Shroud soon.' Deliver it!"

 

He walked away from the man, smiling. After discarding and destroying the blood-stained cowl he went back to the Float, informing one of the adders he thought someone might be injured outside in the woods. As he saw a couple fo the Adders move out in the injured man's direction, Nonotano got on his Chocobo and casually left the area and headed toward Coerthas. Outside the gate he kicked the chocobo onward, riding faster and only allowing himself a grin as he entered the snowy lands.

[Kage]

Kage took the beret off, placing it with his armor in his home. He had retrieved his shield that he had thrown, blinded by smoke. He washed his hands, thoroughly after he had had to peel Stank Balls Mcbeef of his armor. The man seriously reeked and the blood... well. Kage hoped he would not be given the crotch-rot.  A deep cleaning, filled with lots of scrubbing would do the trick.

 

He rubbed his face with a sigh. He had no clue of what would happen next. Captain Anden Anduron would not have him executed. Disciplined... much more severely than Roen ever had been... A scowl took over his face remembering Stank Balls Mcbeef's wig.  

 

But it had not been. As soon as the Captain with Balls Mcbeef the suspicious hooded man had tried to get his attention before trying to assassinate him. Stank Balls Mcbeef took the bag and the knives that the assassin had tried to use to kill the Captain and Kage had tried to surround him... The assassin had gotten away while Natalie did the trauma care for Balls Mcbeef.

 

"What will happen now...? The Captain said I'd work with the Immortal Flames on the Garlean threat... he doesn't even want me on the force... but he's granted me this... this stay of execution in all intents and purposes by not accepting my resignation... But a man must be punished. I will pay for my sins. I was going to... except for that man.... who and why?"

[Lady Rivienne]

She hasn't been acclimatized to the weather in this region. The land of ever-winter was as frigid as she remembered and a night under the white blanket of snow was not a comforting thought. Private quarters were granted to her, much to the chagrin of a few knights that stood about when Lord Haurchefant announced such upon her arrival. Despite their utter annoyance that this outsider was given such lavish accommodations, suited better for a member of the higher houses within Coerthas, Rivienne took the offer but assured him that her stay would not be a long one. Avenger had been given shelter within the stables and she offered the stable-hand sufficient gil to keep him warm with a fire core orb gifted to her by one Reinette Sompt.

 

Two moons have passed since the fall of her brother, second one to meet their fate here in this frozen wasteland. She has mourned and believed her heart to have healed, yet the pain strikes it the most inconvenient of times. Thankfully, none of those were close to her would be a witness to the sudden sorrow that touched her gaze whilst the guardsmen played the part of guides and lead her near the settlement --where her dear Louix once resided.

 

They did not step to the door itself, allowing her to venture through to the vestibule without a word exchanged betwixt them. There came a creak and the onslaught of wind swept the chill throughout this small threshold. It howled and whistled even as she managed to close the door behind her shut. However, there was a slightly different sound that resonates in this dwelling; Rivienne hears the quiet footfalls of another. Past the first room, candle light erratically splashes across the walls, breathing life to the shadows cast upon the wooden slabs that made up the floor.

 

There came the perfume of flowers, an enchanting aroma that helps her forget the bitterness of the cold and reminds her of Twelveswood, the gardens, the one she tended to many cycles ago. Before submitting to memory, she snaps away from her moment of nostalgia, and announces her presence.

 

"I was told this was not going to be occupied," her voice trails into the air and it was obvious that the other person hardly appeared stirred by it. There was a light giggle; the person within was feminine. Again, she heard the foot steps, but this time, they were approaching from the room at the end of the narrow hall, which was dark until this lithe figure makes her appearance with a candle in her grasp.

 

Hair of gold was spun into a braid and fell past her slender shoulders, which are covered by a neatly pressed collar and gave way to a dress befitting of a domestic servant. Her eyes, rivaling the color of the sea, sparkled with intrigue at the vision of Rivienne, who had been bundled from head to toe in a coat and hood, which did well in keeping her ears protected from the nip of frost.

 

"I am Anabelle, m'lady," her hands folded themselves neatly before the skirt of her dress and a low bow of the head was given to the Elezen's direction, who inspected this Hyur in silence and a scrutinizing gaze. The woman spoke with a proper accent fitting an Ishgardian. Rivienne had not asked for any help; she wished to be alone this day.

 

When this Anabelle straightened her form, Rivienne had quickly moved upon her and now stood but a few ilms distance. Golden depths peered into those shimmering blue eyes, which held no indication of fear. But, the way the woman swallowed, hinted that there was something clearly bothering her.

 

"Anabelle, I need not the services of a maid; you may take your leave and thank Lord Haurchefant on my behalf, for I wish not to offend him so." That is when she broke eye-contact and side stepped away, leaving Anabelle behind her, as she waltzes into the chambers from whence this woman came. Within, the smell of incense penetrates her senses and candles sit high on candelabras. Paintings on the wall ahead depict Coerthas has it once was, before Calamity struck. Curtains of rich velvet obscure the view of the world beyond its' glass windows.

 

"It was not Lord Haurchefant that sent me here. Ser Carvallain, of House Arbeau, he is a patron of House Fortemps. He provides them with the knights, and funds, to this ongoing war," she followed Rivienne as she walked past her, now talking to her back. Her voice remained light and friendly; her eyes wide and full of the dancing flame's glow. "He only wished to have all your needs met, extending courtesy that has already been shown to you--" Her words are soon cut short.

 

Like a whirlwind, the sudden breeze of Rivienne's immediate pivot of her heel caused the flame to be snuffed out completely. This forced a gasp from the Midlander's lips, which trembled slightly when washed by the feeling of warmth coming from the Elezen's breath upon her cheek. Her voice was a knife in the dark; it is sharp, and penetrating her earshot, in a deadly tone.

 

"Now, tell me there real reason why you are here, before I pull your tongue through your throat."

[Coatleque]

***

Coatleque found herself gliding across the sands of Thanalan once more. In the distance, the city-line of Ul'dah stood out against the horizon.

 

As she passed by the city, she brought with her a single rose. Throngs of people began to flank her on either side. Pointing fingers, throwing accusations against the rose. Occasionally someone would burst forth and attempt to pluck a petal from the flower. She turned each way, trying in vain to keep it out of their reach - even going so far as to place herself between it and them, taking their ire upon herself. Despite her best efforts, neither of them passed through unscathed.

 

As the city faded into the distance it began to snow. The rose, now wilted with most of its petals gone lept from her hands and glowed brightly. She held her hands up to peer at it through her fingers despite the blinding light. As it faded away there was a figure left in it's place. A familiar figure in shimmering white, laying in the snow. She called to him in a silent scream, pleading with him to "Get up!". But he was out of her reach.

 

As she cried out, dark figures rose from the ground on all sides. They pressed in against her with grasping hands aiming to bind her. She struggled, kicked, tried to resist. The more she tried, the harder they pulled. She saw herself being pulled away from the figure and city both in yet another direction. Her pleas of "Get Up" turned to cries of "Help me!", though the one in white was unable to come to her aid.

 

She found herself laying backwards, held down by the dark figures as they bound her arms and legs. Before her rose a final image. A colossal warrior made of Obsidian. The warrior drew an axe and glared at her with mixed emotions. Anger, vengeance, sorrow. The axe flashed as it descended towards her.

***

 

Coatleque sat up screaming "NO!"...

She looked around her room in a cold sweat, taking a moment to realize she was in fact still alive. It was another dream. She turned and let her feet dangle off the side of the bed, cradling her head in her hands. She would have no further sleep this night...

[C'kayah Polaali]

He remembered first seeing her, a bright but shy girl-child with soft pink hair in the house of her father. C'kayah had brought him an unusual delivery, explosives that many considered too unstable to carry, and the Hyur had invited him to stay for dinner. He'd adopted the Miqo'te, taken her in when he found her starving. It was an all-too-common story in the weeks following the Calamity.

 

He remembered her shining pale eyes when he gave her a clockwork chocobo. She'd thrown herself in his arms and he felt she might never let him go.

 

He remembered her reading the books of poetry, of politics, little volumes of history and intrigues he would bring her when he came. She'd become the bright point in his trips to Thanalan, and he made it a point to always bring her a little gift. She was a delight, and he loved her like a doting uncle.

 

He remembered seeing her graceful form as she danced, as she walked, as she sat. He didn't know when his love for her changed from the chaste love of a relation to a more carnal desire, but he took pains to hide it away. She was the daughter of a friend, and not even seventeen.

 

He remembered the looks they would give each other over dinner. Looks that promised something they both knew could never happen.

 

He remembered meeting her later. She was an adult then, and her too-bright eyes seemed to pierce him. They admitted what they never had, but he was mated to another and could not act on his feelings for her. He remembered painful months. Remembered her pain, and his own, each time causing them to flee each other before inevitably drawing them back to one another.

 

He remembered the look of betrayal in her pale eyes when left her. It didn't matter to her the reason. Didn't matter that someone he cared about was in trouble and needed his help. Didn't matter that he would have done the same thing for her. All that mattered to her was that he was leaving. She had grown into a woman, yet was still a child in so many ways. This could not go on. He could never change how he felt about her, no more than she could about him. But he would not be the cause of her harm anymore.

 

The link pearl cracked as he brought his boot down on it, then split into two uneven halves. He picked them up and held them in his hand, before tossing them into the stream. A brief pain shot through his heart as he did so, then he felt a weight lift from his soul. This terrible love which had nearly claimed both their lives would not do so any longer. He walked away, his step light, whistling tunenessly to himself.

[Kage]

((This is just a brief for all the Sultansworn, Flames in some sort of command, and Brass Blades.))

 

A report filed a few suns ago details that (1) Captain Anden Anduron (Brass Blade) was victim of an assassination attempt in the fifth living ward (Ward 5) of the Goblet.

 

Witnesses: Private Stank Balls (Mcbeef) (Brass Blade), Lieutenant Kage Kiryuu (Brass Blade)

Responder: Private Natalie Mcbeef (Brass Blade)

 

Culprit: Hooded hyuran male, used (2) knives, smoke bomb, and an alias cover as a journalist and letter courier. Escaped both attempts to injure/maim/would as well as arrest. Charged with attempted assassination and fleeing arrest by officers of the Brass Blades.

 

Status: Captain Anden Anduron - missing, last seen uninjured by the aethernet shard near the entrance of Ward 5.

Private Stank Balls (Mcbeef) - injured, Private Natalie Mcbeef performed trauma healing onsite after assassin fled the scene.

Lieutenant Kage Kiryuu - unharmed, was to be punished in-house for undisclosed sins. To proceed with orders from Captain Anduron to work with the Immortal Flames and missive from Commander Swift.

Private Natalie Mcbeef - unharmed, to continue patrol and Brass Blade duties as usual.

[Melodia]

The coat was worthless. It wasn't doing a damn thing to stop the cold not the snows from eating into his nerves. The cold wind made his knee ache and his limp was even more pronounced as he stolled through Camp Dragonhead.

 

Nonotano had spent days canvassing the local gossip whores throught the populated areas of the Central Coerthas Highlands and even some less than hospitable areas, and had heard of, nor see any sign of his dear brother.

 

And now the cold was beginning to annoy him. He hadn't heard of any trouble brewing in the Shroud either, so his little fun outside of Fallgourd Float had been lost on deaf ears, or that fool he'd left alive had either died off or failed to deliver the right message. He waved a hand in dismissal to no one in particular as he considered this, bringing curious glances at the Lalafell, all of which dismissed in his mind.

 

No, this search was dead in Coerthas and he was sick of the cold air.

 

It was time to move on to a warmer locale.

 

It was time head to La Noscea.

[Whittledown]

Hornet retired to her room at the Hourglass. She had left Jancis and Crofte with personal linkpearl connections to her. She would continue to help them in any way they needed, but as a friend purely. No longer a colleague.

 

"I accept your resignation."

 

Those had been Renauds words. A weak way to fire someone, Hornet thought. She had retained her Coral Sea issued linkpearl just long enough to learn the location of Crofte before she turned it over. Somehow she thought that being fired would upset her more. She'd been fired before though, and truth be joining the Coral Sea was a pipe dream at best. It was a risk they all took together.

 

It was never going to work out, really. The Sea's methods were to clean. Too proper and official. Hornet wanted to try and do some good their way but she couldn't help being who she is. That mean streak in her had been her undoing.

 

And Dhemgeim, stepping in front of Renaud like Hornet was going to attack him? That hurt, she'd admit. Hornet had a temper but she wasn't some raging animal. Hornet wasn't even really mad at Renaud. He was a prick, sure, but he had his decision and he stuck to it. And for him, it was the right one really. She couldn't even bring herself to be mad at Dhem. It's not like Dhem wasn't her boss as well. Of course she would tell Renaud everything Hornet had said to her. Confidence was for lovers. Not employers.

 

Hornet shed her armor and cleaned her face. Unemployed. She'd start looking for work in the morning, see what's out there. In the mean time she was free to act as she felt fit. Perhaps there was a group out there that was willing, truly willing, to do whatever it took to defend Eorzea. Rules and laws be damned. There would be a place for her.

 

Hornet knew she could never be the shining light of Eorzea. Leave that to people like Crofte or Warren. But she could be a knife in the dark. She could be the fear that keeps evil in check. She smiled at herself in the mirror.

[Unnamed Mercenary]

The past week had had enough in it to drive any normal person insane. But he wasn't "normal", at least, not compared to the rest of Eorzea. Kage kept telling him the "importance of a name", but it really didn't mean anything to him. 

 

First, a name was simply a title given to refer to something. The same would apply to people.

 

Second, names could change. Why place so much importance on something that wasn't consistent?

 

Third, he didn't even know his given name, let alone his title or family name from Garlemald. If he didn't know that, then why bother with "personal" names at all?

 

He got by just fine having people call him "Merc", and that "name" had come to grow on him. Recently, he'd also taken on the "name" "Franz nil Renatus", making something more...Garlean out of recently events.

 

There was one name he feared, however. He couldn't even bare to . Even the name felt as cold and heartless as the person it referred to. He had asked her for a favor that night, and while she answered, it was at the cost of his freedom. Surely, she only assisted him because it would bring benefit to her. He expected to be contacted with a sun, given some type of task to make up for using her time. He could only imagine her reaction as she learned of where he was living. 

 

Looking around the room, he was glad he learned how to bring things through the aether. A furnished room was much nice. He'd barely made his way to the bed before he passed out on top of it.