Bulletin Board

[Kage]

Kage lay on the new bed, inside the new house. Home.

 

Everything was theirs. His and Natalie's. Theirs. All theirs and no one else's.

 

It made him so happy to hear that she liked it. Even more so when she told him that as long as they were together she was happy. But he knew Natalie deserved a good place to call hers. What better than a house next to a waterfall?

 

He would need to thank Kizuna so much for this.

 

But now Kage had something he needed to think on.

 

The assassin had told Kage his name, in an attempt to convince Kage to assist him in killing corrupt officers, swords, and officials. He could understand what Xydane was thinking but all of these men still worked within the confines (mostly) of the law. In fact, Kage would wager he did more illegal things than Jameson Taeros or the captain. He certainly had already.

 

Kage burrowed into the covers, holding onto one of the pillows wishing Natalie was back from patrol so he could talk to her.

[ArmachiA]

Fire.

 

"Wow,"

"Hm?"

"Nothing, maybe I'm just in a good mood, but it's - it's kind of wonderfully you, that's all."

"Ah... well.. my herbs all sleep in the spare bedroom and my book shelfs are in my room so... I'm always close to a good story..."

"Stories and life. I like this home much better. Thanks for letting me in."

 

"You're going to teach me how to play cards...?"

"Mmhm."

"Right now?"

"Mmhmm."

"With a concussion...?"

"Mmhmm."

 

 

 

"Books about love. I never thought to turn to books for that, I wonder if I should've. Although I guess I'm not a prince or a knight."

"You're quite Knightly. I've relied on books for most of that... but... it's a little different from reality I'm finding."

"Hmn, well, if this were a book, what would we be doing right now? Does it involve fighting monsters? I don't think the kitchen is big enough."

"In the books... I think it would go... the dashing knight Sindl saved the lowly farm girl Armi from the evil Fillion and he protects her and they go away to a little cottage to hide but instead they...It would be a very interesting story, indeed."

"Hmn, well, I haven't got any little cottages... but there's a great view of Limsa Lominsa up at Summerford Farms I could take you to. I mean, if you feel like going anywhere today."

 

"You never.... you always show me... this is amazing. You are..."

"I wouldn't even try if it weren't for you. There's so many things I gave up on, until you came along."

"Really?"

"I didn't think I could come to care about anyone like this again, I thought - well, I was broken. But here I am."

 

 

 

 

"Well, what's the last thing Armi did that made you smile?"

"Made tea."

"I can make... all the tea in the whole world! It may take me awhile, now you have to stay for days."

"Also might kind of flood the place."

"Someone might drown?"

"An ocean of tea. How diabolical."

A thundering flood of tea sweeps out of the door and through the streets. In it wake, for a moment, Ul'dah is clean. And a little tea-stained."

"Might taste funny though. Better than salt water, I guess."

 

"The floor is lava."

"The floor is what?"

"X'havir told me a game, the floor is now Lava. You can't step on the floor."

"Fair enough."

 

 

 

 

 

"That should be good..."

"I meant what I said yesterday. I love you."

"M'sato..."

"I know, I know. Time. It's...It'd distract me if I didn't tell you."

"No it's... a lot of Miqote don't know what love is... it's a foreign concept to them... and... you really haven't known me all that long... and I'm not really anything special... I'm just wondering..."

"...If I even know what it means?"

 

"I'm okay, Armi, or as much as I ever get, and this is gonna end, right up until it happens again, and I'll live through that one, too."

"What if you don't?"

"If I think like that, it gets hard to keep going. Better to just be sure you'll live 'n then make it happen."

"I'm torn... I think it's good for you to keep trying and learn how to.... but not if it does this..."

"Armi, -this- is mild. I've hidden in cellars and caves and hollows for days longer, and I didn't wake up in a mattress with my biggest worry being whether or not I was going to finally say the wrong thing to you."

"Mild... That's what I was afraid of... Does this happen often?"

"It used to more common when I was younger, and around the...The battle you were in, it got to its worst. These days, it only happens around certain dates, weather patterns, or when...Big things happen."

"Are you okay...?"

"Sometimes it's only a headache, but...The normal ones can be three, four days, and then I'm scrambled for about a week after. It doesn't -matter- if I'm okay. It'll happen all the same, so I might as well make myself okay."

 

 

"I said I was -doing a favor for someone-, alright? He needed someone to help play waiter at his cafe, and I used to work for him back when I was full-time at the Arcanist's guild to make extra money. Only he went all -upscale- now and he made me wear a TIE and his damn cook sat me down and CUT MY HAIR."

"Ah... you look cute though..."

"Anyway, that's why the tie. He was pissed that I showed up a little bit banged up, but that was the job before, and at least it paid."

Mm... we should probably put a salve on those bruises... why are... you still in that if the job is done?

"...Because I'm going to have the thing cleaned before I give it back as an apology for showing up bruised. And I can't get the damn -tie- off."

"Hold still. A waiter, huh?"

"...Yeah. I used to do near everything there. Wait tables, cook food, mix drinks, the usual job you do that takes hard work and doesn't bring home a lot of money. Never had to wear a -tie- though."

"Hm... I can't imagine you... waiting tables... um.. doesn't that require...you know... not... being mean to customers?"

"Goooooooooooooooooooooood evening, and welcome to Meritt's Seafood! I'm M'sato, and I did this for so long that I can look friendly even if I'm wanting to punch a wall! No matter what I say like this, people seem to think I'm just funny and -quirky- rather than just a mean jerk."

 

"Best part of clay...you can make something, then make something else."

"I think that's true of people too.. you can always try to be whatever you want, remold and reshape yourself just like clay. But your always you, you never stop... being clay."

"That is...very smart."

"Ah... I'm not sure about that but... I think it's helpful to know.. that you can still be you... even if you shift a little."

"So if someone were this clay...smooth, no rough edges. But then something happened and they changed. The shape changes but they are still what they are underneath. And can maybe go back to something similar but not exactly the same."

"Exactly. I think... that meeting you all and the things that have happened after... they have changed me and redefined what 'me' is. But... I'm still me. I'm still Armi, just... a different kind of Armi. I used to be afraid that people wouldn't like me if I changed, that... if I became something else everyone would leave me behind... but... I'm changing and moving and.. you know, I still have most people... they didn't leave me..."

"Maybe I can find X'havir again someday. Smooth out the rocky points that hide him."

"Whoever you think X'havir is, you can find him again,, or you can become something new but... still the same. A better person, grow and change and... You know, not that there was anything wrong with the old X'havir. He was very charming."

"Was he?"

 

 

 

 

"I love you."

 

Ashes.

[Fates Skein]

Mahvashi sat on the edge of her bed in the Quicksand, thinking hard as she brushed her long, long hair.  It took time to do the job properly and it always gave her a chance to think, to sort things out.  With the smell of her shampoo dulling her senses to the scents that lingered in the inn room (shades of lodgers past, meals eaten, baths taken or needed, heated armor...) she was able to actually focus.

 

The Coral Sea.

 

It was a good place.  Good people.  She hadn't really gotten a sense of most of them yet and had the feeling that they would say the same for her.  Starting off in a company after working in Ul'dah for so long was strange, a bit discomfiting to be a face in a line-up when she'd been a star.  Truth be told, she found herself lonely.  When she met up with her company-mates, they all seemed to have stories with one another, histories, inside-jokes that she was clever enough to recognize but not privy to.  Her talents weren't aiding her much- not yet, anyway.  She just had to catch the tail of the dragon and she was sure she could tame it, eventually.  It was like infiltration work- find the weak link and work your way in.  The trouble was, they all seemed to draw strength from each other...

 

With a bit of shock, she realized that she was the weak link.  It made her pause in her brushing for just a moment before she shook her head and resumed.  Well, she'd joined looking for a challenge.  It really shouldn't surprise her, she supposed, if the challenge that found her wasn't what she'd expected.

 

A thought curled into her head and she smiled.  Challenges.  The Grindstone.  Shido.  Quick and clever, though he'd blushed so easily at her flirting.  She hoped she'd see him again, fight him again.  He wouldn't catch her flat-footed, this time.

 

Honestly, the Grindstone had been the best thing to happen to her in a long time.  Better than training with the Ishgardians, whose rigid structures made her chafe.  No, the 'Stone was all flow and reaction, a place where she could use all her talents and skills in a way that felt dynamic, a way that felt good.  Of course, fighting with unblunted blades had left her with a new appreciation for what her enemies must feel, not to mention some bruised ribs and a healthy wariness for 'unarmed' fighters.  Still, it was fun, more fun than she'd expected, and a damn fine place to sight-see.  Thank the gods for the heat of Thanalan.

 

The miqo'te continued to brush her calf-length hair, musing away the time with idle fancies.

[Delilah Scythewood]

 

[align=center]((Rather fitting theme for a rather bittersweet piece. Written in IC first person. Summary: Lili visits her late husband's headstone.))[/align]

 

 

______________________________________________________________________

 

 

[align=center]You were buried by the sea.

 

Looking out over the cliff face with the roaring waves and sea foam gathered at the base of the small drop, it felt like a fitting location for your resting place. Here, you could see the sunrise and sunset come and go on the same stretch of horizon. How the sky blushed maiden pink in the morning and grew a sleepy violet in the evening.

 

Even now, sitting besides your headstone, it brings a smile to my lips. The moment would be perfect, if only you were here besides me.

 

But...

 

"You're not." I said the words aloud, the sound being drowned out by the roaring tides but I knew you would hear me all the same. "Days like today have made me miss you. My heart. My Ghislan." I drifted my fingertips over the corner of the white stone. It was a beautiful headstone. His father carved it for us just before he passed, and it was one of the stonemason's finest works yet.

 

"As much as I miss you, and the children miss you, know that you are in our hearts. Especially in mine. Every time our son looks at us, I see you in his eyes. He's engaged, you know. To an Elezen. A -male- Elezen." I let that hang in the air. A spurt of wind blew my hair all over my face, making me laugh. "Hush. You don't have a say."

 

I let the silence linger.

 

"...I found someone."

 

Another little gust of wind, this time softer and more hesitant, blew over me.

 

"Well, two someones."

 

I didn't get a reaction for that one. Not that I blamed him. I could practically feel the incredulous torrent pouring off him. "It's complicated, dear, but...know that I'm happy. And they're good men. They treat Ado right, and that's one of the things that matters. It's not conventional by any stretch, but alas...I haven't been this happy in a while."

 

My eyes fluttered closed. Nothing but the cool sea air and the cold white stone beneath my fingertips. It gave me some time to my thoughts, letting the door to my inner thoughts slowly slide open.

 

"I have friends too. More then I've had in a while. I feel more comfortable letting others in then I once did. Especially since leaving the Vanguard. Yet...and yet..." There it came again. Every trip, without fail, that tightness in my chest began to swell and grow. Larger and larger, until I felt it may consume me. Drown me into nothingness.

 

"It sometimes feels empty. Because you're not here."

[/align]

[Jancis]

Jancis sat up again in the inn at Drybone.

 

It was difficult to sleep. The first night she didn't. It was a lot to take in and she was overwhelmed by the complication of it. Her dear friend was right there, yet she was helpless to solve the dilemma.

The situation was beyond her ability to handle; what little Jancis learned of Lady Crofte's work made her feel all the more guilty for not assisting with. The conjurer greedily took up every chance she ran into to help, even in the smallest of tasks, to take whatever burden she could off the knight's shoulders. Too bad she couldn't take the burden off Cici's neck.

 

There was hope. The knight, the medic (who decided it was okay to damage his own hand), and the other soldier had good news when they arrived. At least potential good news. The first day without word was tough to take and it was difficult to not wait endlessly. Jancis had a tough task of trying to find distractions.

 

Luckily, they managed to get Sir Castille, somehow, which made a huge difference in Cici's demeanor. While Jancis had innocently tried to avoid being too nice, she realized that the two knights gave each other hope. The two peers unwittingly challenged one another to the point that they inspired themselves to not disappoint the other. It was heartwarming.

 

Jancis took a deep breath. She had to sleep. Picking up one of the papers she started writing. Putting her thoughts and feelings onto paper at least gave her an outlet. As she wrote, she began to doze off. The words blurred together...

 

.. and then on a half written letter she fell asleep.

[Knight Kat]

[align=center]((During the Enemy At The Gate event.))

 

A Forlorn Jakkya

 

Kiht Jakkya woke that afternoon to find that Miah was gone. She knew about the battle that was supposed to happen, but she was Gods knows where. It did not matter, she preferred that Miah was not there. She had told Miah that she would not act rashly. It was one of the rare times when Kiht lied.

 

She adorned her armor and leathers. She wrapped her bandana tight around her head. She slowly applied her war paint; the dark green of the Black Shroud. It was a reminder of what she was ultimately fighting for. She made her way to the Coffer and Coffin.

 

At the tavern, she did not recognize any faces. Sure, she knew the man in the black armor was Osric. She saw the Hyur woman with the white hair named Kanaria. However, these were not the people she knew. After Kiht heard his words, she came to believe that Osric was a broken man. It filled her with sadness, but she had one final job. Unlike him, she would not bow to the Garleans just because they placed a collar on her neck. Explosive or not, she was going to do what she had originally planned to do, or she would die trying.

 

When the groups began forming, she asked to join Osric's group. Her request was innocent, but her intentions were not. She had been acting like a grim statue the entire time; ignoring and blocking out most of the things being said and done. She had one mission now.

 

She followed the group to Ul'dah, and watched absently as they set off the bomb near the wall. Even the massive explosion did not shake her grim resolve. When she lined up at the gate with the terrorists and traitors, her gaze drifted to Osric. Her hand slowly moved to the hunting knife on her belt. Before this group of forlorn individuals could hurt a single defender of Ul'dah, she and Osric would go to Hells together. She was relatively sure a hunting knife to the collar would set it off; Set them both off.

 

However, something gave her pause. Something shook her from her grim trance. Out from the gate of Ul'dah was an expected sight; Erik Mynhier. Adorned in his Sultansworn armor, Kiht knew the brave man would be the first one out the gate. However, the small figure standing next to him was not who she expected..... Khloe Jakkya.

 

Kiht's clumsy Thaumaturge cousin who had earned the nick-name "Mouse" during their childhood, was standing there beside a Sultansworn! Kiht's eyes went wide in shock and awe as tears welled in them. The Morbolvine Clan had found Kahn'a in time. They were there, and ready to help defend Ul'dah. When more defenders emerged from the gate, Kiht's breath was taken away. Sultansworn, Immortal Flames, Mercenaries and the Morbolvine Clan. They outnumbered the attackers. They were an impenetrable wall of saviors.

 

Kiht had to struggle to keep her tears at bay. Hope was returning to her heart. There was no need for her to sabotage the terrorists now. Even if Kiht decided to fight, there would be little difference she could make. When the Garlean side charged, Kiht darted right for her cousin.

 

Khloe bore an expression of utter confusion. Kiht swung her lance over Khloe's head; yelling "duck!" before doing so. As expected, her cousin hit the dirt. Even if she hadn't, Kiht would have intentionally missed. "I am tired cousin. -Tired-." Kiht said to Khloe as she smirked. Khloe climbed to her feet, and smirked at Kiht in return. She cast a sleep spell at Kiht, and Kiht grinned widely as she did nothing to avoid the spell. "I love you." Kiht said to Khloe before she collapsed onto the ground, and fell into a deep sleep.

[/align]

[Melodia]

The letter was written with such a fine penmanship, care taken to make sure it was legible, to make sure that she savored every word  when she read it. He almost wanted to head back to Ul'dah and say it in person, just to see the look of utter failure cross her face. But he didn't want to lose track of his brother, nor his...lover? The idea seemed ridiculous. Nevertheless he just wanted to make sure she knew. Nonotano sealed the envelope and smiled at it as he sent it. With that he walked back to the Drowning Wench for another drink, the grin still plastered upon his face.

 

The letter read:

 

To the Lovely Sergeant Crofte,

I found him.

And the Limsa air has done me well, Sergeant.

 

Your ever adoring fan,

Krell

[Stormwind]

Alexander sat at his desk and basked in the light of his own achievement. It was the rare occasion that he stopped to recognize his talents but as he looked over the planned upgrades to Captain Dogberry's new legs, he couldn't help but revel in his own genius. Between Rhianna's surgical prowess and his magitek and aetheric knowledge, Captain Dogberry would not only walk again but might even be better then before.

 

Lifting the plans back up, his mind began to already race with possibilities for this kind of technology. This technology, combined with his other project, could revolutionize warfare in favor of the city-states and push back the beastmen. Everything was starting to fall into place, which means he would have to finish the other project soon, or at least get it our of concept phase. He would need that allagan tech soon if he was going to capitalize on everything that was going to follow.

[Berrod Armstrong]

"I am a Monk of Ala Mhigan blood, taught by a survivor of the Fists of Rhalgr. As his sun set, so did he bid my sun rise to claim dominion over my sky."

 

 

"Through the first, the earth is my wall."

 

 

"Through the second, my needs are my fuel."

 

 

"Through the third, my will is lightning."

 

 

"Through the fourth, my heart is my fire."

 

 

"Through the fifth, my words are the swift winds."

 

 

"Through the sixth, I see all paths."

 

 

"Through the seventh, I shall ascend."

 

Muddled memories of the words assaulted Berrod in the vale between sleep and waking, just as the golden morning light spilled in through the window. He hissed in a deep breath, finally casting off the muddled veil of sleepy confusion. Those words...he heard them spoken in his voice, and sounded far too...wise...for something of his own immediate imagination. Were they another memory? As best as he could, he tried to commit them, line by line.

 

"Through the fourth, my heart is my fire."

 

"Through the fifth..." What was it? Something about speaking. As grogginess shed from him, so did the words fade from his mind like a parting morning mist. There was no consoling him for his frustration.

 

"Bugger it all..."

[111]

Natalie boarded the airship dock back to Ul'dah, still wondering if she'd done the right thing. In the past she had no such issues, she had her oath, her orders, and enemies who would stand to fight her. All those were gone now, and she was left to her own actions.

 

She had gone to met Osric in Limsa, Jin'li had given her the location. There was panic in Ul'dah, no one was sure how to treat the poisoning, and the catacombs were rapidly being filled with the failed attempts. Everyone thought that Osric had corrupted himself completely, that instead of a slave, he was a willing servant. She wasn't so sure, perhaps she mused, because of her own situation. Either way Osric knew more about the poison than anyone in the city, he'd have access to the one who made it... and hopefully one who can cure it.

 

He had been blithe at first, throwing his normal scarcastic insults, until he flipped the paper she had given him, and saw the death estimated in the city. His face whitened, and that white haired woman of his slid across a note, "We need samples."

 

She knew he was being monitored, by those damnable collars that seemed to adorn everyone's neck but hers. She cursed him for his traitorousness, that he would let it get this far. Better to die than to do what he has done. She had thrown her cloak at him in disgust, her cloak full of carefully wrapped vials, each containing samples of those affected. The next time I see you, I'm going to kill you, meet me in Drybone if you want to finish this."

 

She still wasn't sure if Osric deserved a second chance, or even if he would make good use of it. Suddenly Natalie laughed, "It's only fair." She said to no one in particular, "I could use some second chances myself." She slots a linkpearl, "Kage... we need to talk."

[Jael'li]

Jael'li stood in the middle of an empty room; his place to think and train, though it was mostly the latter. He specifically request the room of the house not to be touched, fearing someone may attempt to find a use for it what with the constant redecorating the house got.

 

The sand bag suspended at waist high claimed his attention. He checked the rope one last time to make sure it was secure, dipping his head back to stare at the bolt in the ceiling, watching how it never budged as he applied a full weighted tug.

 

Good.

 

The martial artist set his shoulders, then twisted in the opposite direction. His elbow snapped around and hit the bag. Sand puffed with the stinging blow.

   "Very good." He whispered. He would've grinned at his minor accomplishment had his mind not been abuzz with concerning thoughts. But he was here to rid himself of just that.

 

Jael'li jabbed the bag with his left fist, rotating his arm so the top of the clenched hand was horizontal to his target as it struck. As his fist snapped back to guard his face, he leaned back, bringing his right hip over. His leg followed, smashing into the bag like an iron ball on a swinging flail.

 

The Miqo'te assaulted the defenseless bag with a flurry of kicks, punches, flying elbows, and knees. Though the kicks seemed lazy and the punches seemed casual, the bag popped with each strike.

 

The simplest forms were the most illusive, requiring the greatest subtlety and muscle coordination to achieve surprising power; it was a truism he always strove to keep in mind.

 

Sweat ran across the stylized markings inked across the dark skin of his chest and back, but the drops sizzled and steamed away as he went on. He relaxed into his forms, his body moving even smoother, more circular movements. His mind followed, dissolving into the exertion. His focus was nearly complete, but a sliver of anxiety still persisted.

 

He couldn't get the images of their latest events out of his head. For the hundredth time his mind floated back to the time where his body betrayed him, allowing his emotions to take control and grant the creature sustenance.

 

His focus wavered. 

 

Snapping out with two straights and following through with a string of roundhouses, alternating between head and chest high, he never slowed.

 

The Miqo'te used his expert dexterity to make for precise hits, swiveling around the swinging back and striking out with a knuckle nukite, imagining the protruding joint of his forefinger striking between the ribs of his foe.

 

'Rest assured, I will never let you die...'

 

 

Those words he remembered clearly. Every thing that poured from the creature's mouth froze his joints and that overwhelming fear gripped at his spine, causing him to seize up. 

 

All his work had been for nothing.

 

Frustration and anger claimed him. He lashed at the sand-filled sack with a kick so vicious the hemp tether snapped. The sand-filled sack slammed into the wall, spilling its contents across the floor. His hands bit at the insides of his palms and he snapped his head this way and that, stricken with the urge to break something vital. 

 

A sudden knock on the door made him jump. The sound of tiny knuckles rapping across the wooden surface was a clear indication of who it was, and suddenly both anger and frustration had bled away. 

 

"I'll be out in a moment," he called out after clearing his throat, his voice still sounding strained. Yellow eyes glanced at the fallen sandbag, as if staring down at his fallen foe. He sniffed loudly and departed, leaving those thoughts behind.

[Raelas]

Yangh rolled her right shoulder with a light hiss. It seemed it was always stiff these days. Her left hand palmed at her ornate Scimitar, Saif-ul raml wahsh. Her fingertips tracing the eight Aetherical gems set into the hilt.

 

It was a curious thing, her Scimitar. The constant nibbling at her aether, the sweeping Aksharian text engraved onto the flat of the blade that would glow when wielded.

 

"Taynha aktar ma hea metayna... erhamny ya amena." she said with a deflated huff as she made her way from the Goblet to the Quicksand.

 

Yangh always did find it ironic, the one place she felt most alone was the place with the most tightly compacted bodies... and yet... she loved it there.

 

A Hyur knocked into her as he past, as usual she ignored it and moved on. The Hyur however felt a little entitled that the Miqo'te Keeper know her place and apologise.

 

Yangh kept moving, ignoring the male's jaunts and jeers... until he put a hand to her shoulder. 

 

It was but a moment, a little voice whispering in the back of her mind. She rounded in a swift motion, drawing her blade and taking the male's hand at the wrist with a quick cut, followed by a flourish and twirl of her Scimitar. A gem sparked to life as Yangh spewed sand from her mouth, blasting the Hyur in the face and blinding him. "Raml Rouh!" she said firmly shortly before the sand assaulted the Hyur's vision.

 

The Hyur stumbled back into an alley way and Yangh followed him, kicking his severed hand aside as she went. The smell of his blood was intoxicating, she hadn't killed anyone in moon's. Her left hand palmed at his jaw, hushing his cries as she slammed the back of his head against the wall with force, slowly pressing a thumb into his eye socket and point of her blade into his gut.

 

"Kepahk, Alakharun Jahiliyyah... soyk sukna, s’ab kha-if tuh anti ghabiya... Samekh s’ab..." she breathed with a lust soaked tongue, watching the life drain from his face as his complexion grew pale from blood loss.

 

The Hyur crumpled to the ground, close to death. Yangh left him there to his fate... both loving and cursing her action as she prayed for forgiveness from Menphina.

 

"Mah esmai Menphina nerukh sekah, hashk et soyk, et-tu tahe kinae, Menphina jezhul. Menphina-uma Thabetna, Takabal Menphina salatakom." she uttered to herself as she entered the quicksand and approached the bar.

 

"Salam Mohmohdee... Uhl'daahn spiced wine... Lakshaa." she said with a smile.

 

Just one of those days, she thought.

[Zhavi]

Zhi never had a problem sleeping. She fell asleep easily, and she woke up (normally) with even the slightest disturbance. Dreams did not typically trouble her, nightmares even less so.

 

The night after she'd met that troublesome oaf -- what had he called himself? Something ridiculous, she couldn't quite focus on the name -- was different. The box came to mind, the one that she'd shaken, the one that had spoken to her. . .

 

She sat upright in the mess of blankets she'd slept in, skin clammy, heart racing. Her stomach growled, and the sound startled her; she jumped. She also got up, lit the lantern. She was shaking. Godspit, she was scared. Zhavi Streetrunner did not scare from dreams. She was tough. Practical. Unwavering. She did what she had to do and she didn't linger on it.

 

So why had she dreamt of strange, eldritch things? Why couldn't she stop shaking? Why couldn't she throw it off?

 

Sleep had become precious to her. When she was able to grab some, she took it without a second thought. She had the space to go back to sleep, but staring down at the blankets -- she couldn't. She couldn't even move. She huddled in the corner, lamp in hand, staring into the corners left dark by the flickering flame. Night was her time. She should not feel fear.

 

She didn't move.

 

She stayed there until dawn.

[Roen]

“His actions have gone too far, Miss Rae.”

 

“I had not expected the absolute complete success that he achieved. Or such ambition from one such as he.”

 

“You expected him to fail. He has not. He has targeted every water supply within the Jewel.”

 

“Indeed, Mister Taeros. I have vastly overestimated the defender’s capacity to stop him in time.”

 

“The poison still takes hours? A day?”

 

“The initial version took minutes. I convinced them to lengthen it, but it is only up to a day. But now there is a new element. Aether toxicity. Any attempt to cure it with aetheric energies will result in immediate death of one poisoned.”

 

“Clever. And what of the Morbolvine Clan? Have they discovered the link?”

 

“Of that, I am unaware. Miss Jakkya has been compromised.”

 

“But if there is another within the Clan that--”

 

“There are none other there that I trust.”

 

“... Very well. And what of the antidote?”

 

“The old one is defunct. You have the new one, as do I.”

 

“Will more be forthcoming?”

 

“Perhaps.”

 

“...”

 

“Do what you will with it, Mister Taeros. Do not think I know not where your true loyalties lie.”

 

“As you would, Miss Rae. As you would.”

[Whittledown]

Hornet looked around her room at the Hourglass. It was homey. Lived in. Her effects were scattered everywhere. All little markers of her and who she is. She sat down on the bed and sighed. This was it, the end of her time here. She looked at the bed and memories flooded her. The nights spent quietly reading. The exhausted collapses. The love she'd made. She shook her head. She couldn't let herself drift into nostalgia.

 

She had her trunk, and another she'd borrowed from Anais to assist in the move. She'd acquired more stuff than she'd realized. She began to pack and thought of her future.

 

Sindl had been kind and understanding. She thought that perhaps she and him had more in common than either may realize. She wanted to find out if that was true. Remi was a different matter. Hornet had done her a wrong without even realizing who she was. She was genuinely sorry for that, but it was in the past now. She couldn't dwell on pleasing one person. Too much was at stake.

 

Mireille. Hornet paused her packing as she thought of her. From the moment she stumbled into Hornet's arms, Hornet had been entranced. The beautiful and elegant Elezen woman whose gentlness concealed a core of pure iron.

 

Eleanor. Brusque at first, almost dangerous. Hornet was wary of her. But then she started to see more. The fierce exterior hiding such a caring heart and, if Hornet wasn't mistaken, some very deep scars.

 

These two women, opposites nearly, but so perfect together. Hornet had found herself thinking of them often. Spending time with them was like standing in pure sunlight. She felt energized. Focused.

 

She shook her head. Now wasn't the time to lose herself to fancies. She had packing to do and a room in the Goblet to set to right.

[MrPoopyButtHole]

Kiht is in trouble. The words kept playing over in his mind. Pyralis sat in the Quicksand looking at his ale. Kiht is in trouble. He took a very long drink from his ale till he was practically slurping on droplets. Why should he care? She called him a Hyur and basically threaten him when her damn -new- mate attacked him. Why should he care about anything really? Since when did the spoony bard care for anyone but himself. Kiht is in trouble. The voice kept saying over and over again in his mind, that fuckin' voice.

 

He had to go back to Limsa and finish that forsaken job of infiltration. He had to worry about assassins placing a well aimed dagger in his back. He had too many Gods damn things to worry about. Why bother adding a cat who doesn't give two shits about him? Kiht is in trouble. Pyralis sighed heavily and before he knew it, he was drinking his fourth ale. The voice was gone and he was happy, so happy he wouldn't start a brawl today...maybe.

 

He got up and staggered out of the Quicksand whistling a tune. No one could bring him down today, his troubles were set free by alcohol once again. No Keepers in his mind today. Just ale.

 

Kiht is in trouble. Pyralis sighed, Yeah...I know.

[Kage]

Kage glanced at the letter he received. He knew who it was from. How could he not forget having been hit in the head and finding himself outside of the city?

 

He sighed, Erik was a good man. But Kage was now in a sphere away from Erik. He could not keep the same eye on him as he would have when they were Oath brothers. He could not... not anymore. All Kage could do was work with him in the times of crisis..

 

... such as now.

 

Kage went to the fireplace, throwing the parchment into it and watched as it slowly turned to just ash.

[Coatleque]

Coatleque sat in the Quicksand after her latest return from La Noscea. Her latest 'master' knew of her return and would be contacting her soon, or so she expected. She had a short moment of reprieve to catch her breath at least. She had hopes of seeing at least one or two friends. Even if she couldn't speak to them, hearing that they were well would be of some comfort. Having not spoken for days now, her voice was beginning to crack when she did.

 

Aya was sitting behind her now, off duty, speaking with friends. The Knight sat half-listening at this point, simply staring at a pressed flower she held in her hands. She turned it over many times to simply feel its petals. It was a Nymeia Lily she received in a letter.

 

The conversation behind her had turned to the question of who protects patrons in the bar. Coatleque's heart sank as Aya revealed there was no one recently stationed; That she did not feel safe in her own place of employ. The Knight withdrew a small notepad and thin charcoal writing instrument. She hastily wrote a note, then rose to leave. On passing by, she stopped and handed the note out to the barmaid.

 

"Miss Aya. I pray your fortunes will change for the better soon."

 

"I-I'm sorry. Do I know you?"

 

"Unfortunately, yes." She leaned forward and pulled back the edge of her cowel to reveal the collar breifly. Holding the note out again she urged her to take it. "Please?"

 

As Aya took the note, the Knight turned to leave. "Oh, if you see Ser Castille, please tell him... I'm sorry for doubting." With that she left the bar and city both, returning to her camp at the outskirts.

 

Aya would later look down at the note to see Coatleque's flowing script:

Miss Aya,

I apologize for my absence recently. You needed to see with your own eyes why I have not been present. I did not go willingly, in fact I fought it to the bitter end. Do not fear, for I shall not submit to them. I pray when next we meet it shall be under more favorable circumstances.

Ser Crofte

[Michikyou]

'A cure.. I need to finish it' The words echoed terribly as the sleep deprived male tossed in his bed. How long had it been now since the matriarch left? since his best friend had left due to the unfortunate instance of collar placement? too long. 'Get yourself together, Naih'ir he gripped at his sheets before sitting up - the stone walls beside him providing no comfort; nor did the blue haired girl or cub to his side. Was he losing it? was this what it was like before he had these memories restored?

 

The moon was still high in the sky, but beginning work was all that lingered on the males mind. 'Aetheryte dust.. i'll cross reference other materials with my sample now, as the children and Xao sleep..'

 

His work would require a lot of his attention - and each day his simple life waned towards the chaotic. [/i]

[Warren Castille]

The first thing Warren noticed when he came to was the searing pain in his left shoulder. He wasn't sure where he was at first and he experienced a moment of confusion before the train car of memories crashed into him. He remembered the assault outside of Wineport. Jubilation at recovering the key. Accomplishment of everyone escaping. He recognized most of the names and faces, especially as of late, but that was the first he had fought and bled with them. A major crisis had a way of bringing folks together.

 

They regrouped at Drybone to test the key. Warren had explicit need to know the workings of the device and he was sure that was clear to at least two of the men he'd fought alongside. Before they could begin in earnest, however, he arrived.

 

Warren remembered everything happening quickly. The call to attack. One steps, two steps. A searing bolt through his shoulder. Warren remembered seeing an angel before dying.

 

He groaned, climbing out of the bed he was laid up in. The muscles in his shoulder seized, angrily protesting as he tried to rotate the limb. There was a small divot in the skin and he surmised someone had attempted to heal him, though it was evident they had stopped once it looked well enough. That didn't matter.

 

There was someone waiting for him in Coerthas. There wasn't any time to lose focus.

[Kage]

Kage rubbed at his face, weary and despondent. His eyes were low and his ears drooped. He closed his eyes, remember the conversations he's had.

 

By the Twelve he was just -tired-. He was lost... and perhaps without a purpose now. No matter how hard he'd tried, the Brass Blades were just not what he was meant for. He couldn't live like this.

 

"Captain Anduron is the one keeping you from facing execution charges."

 

He was 'Sworn no longer, even he could see that it would never come back to be. With the relations with the Flames as they were he didn't think he'd ever join them. What was left but being an adventurer or mercenary? He was in a tunnel with no light at the end but perhaps death. No aims. No goals. Not anymore. Everything was true. But the fact was... with Natalie leaving and Roen having already gone, there was nothing to keep Kage in this life. Not even death.

 

Kage had done what he could to help with the effort but he'd already seen it in the others' actions. No one trusted him. The lack of shared information on how to deal with the voidsent threat that both he and Erik were informed of. They'd all gone to other Blades. Not him, it was the life he was being dealt with and it was starting to become one that was unbearable.

 

As he'd thought to do, once the Captain was found again and whatever happened to the city, Kage would continue to pursue giving him his resignation, even if it was to lead to his death.

[Unnamed Mercenary]

Cleaning himself off from the "fight" last night, he exited the quiet house and entered the town. 

 

Using a certain linkpearl he'd been given recently. "Kage, where are you? We need to talk. Now if possible. I'll be near the small cafe by the airship docks. Meet me there when you can."

 

He'd wait there until Kage showed up. It would also provide an excellent opportunity to read up on arcane magic controls.

[Kage]

Kage sighed, rolling his neck as he tried to figure out what he was going to do. He answered the call, "If ye needed to talk to me you could have done that when we said we needed to talk. Ye preferred having a good ol' bar fight over what I had to say Garlean. Leave me be. I'm not one of yours to be at yer beck and call. Whatever mess you got yourself into..."

 

"Get yourself out of it."

[111]

"This is heavier than I remember" Natalie muses as she walks through the city. "Noisier too."

 

She sighs, "It doesn't breathe very well either, and the beret doesn't give any shade from the sun."

 

Stretching her arms, "Range of motion isn't as good either."

 

Finally she laughs, "But I guess it will do." Looking up at the spires of Ul'dah, "Time to climb some stairs."

 

 

 

 

Jenlyns had been expecting her, and he took the vial she offered with trembling hands. "This is it? The antidote?" She nods and he sighs with relief, "If only it had come sooner, but some can still be saved. Still," he chuckles, "I can't believe Jameson actually vouched for you. You two didn't seem like you'd get along."

 

She smiles softly, "We worked out some differences, but I think we see eye to eye now."

 

He nods, "About your position... You know about Sergeant Crofte?"

 

Natalie holds up a hand, "Ser we're in a crisis, I'll worry about that afterwards, until then I'll happily accept her commands."

 

He nods, "Good, and about Roen... she's heading up the investigation there as well."

 

She sighs, "Aye sir I've heard, I'll speak to her about it."

 

"Ah... what of Ser Kiryuu?" He asks curiously, "I assumed he would return with you."

 

She shakes her head, "He still has unfinished business with the Blades, but hopefully he'll be back in blue before long as well."

 

"Good, I look forward to it," He rises from his desk and gives a salute, "Natalie, welcome back."

 

Natalie smiles and returns it, "Thank you sir."

[Berrod Armstrong]

Her fingers brushed along his jaw. They were soft, and undeserving of the rough, ruddy scruff that they had to traverse along the clearly defined line. She kept her nails cut low, but still painted them in a mild peach that he had come to like. Gods, her touch was like silk. Slowly the dainty digits ran along the side of his granite-textured face, exploring, stroking and teasing...

 

...before clutching his ear in a vice grip to give it a good hard yank.

 

Berrod yelped and immediately clapped a big hand over hers, desperately seeking to free his smarting ear from her torment. "Ow! 'Ey, 'ey! What's that for?!"

 

The Midlander woman did not relinquish it, standing two full fulms less than him with hair of darkest night and eyes of blue fire. Her features were soft, but the expression upon them was fearsome to behold. "Four moons! Four moons, Berrod Armstrong! Not a word about where you'd been and now you call me from across the street asking for 'a lil sugar'?!"

 

"Ginny -- I -- ow! Bugger, let go! I can explain --"

 

"No!" Ginny refused shrilly. The normal, silky melody that was her voice had been replaced with an ear splitting shriek of indignation. "First I hear you've gone north, then rumors that you weren't coming back -- -then- I hear you're running a business! You cad! You absolute cad! How could -- my eyes are up here, Berrod!"

 

Having sought comfort from the assault in the alluring rise of her bosom, Berrod found his foot accosted by a sharp stomp from her heel. The Highlander yowled and sharply pulled the limb away. "M'sorry! Thal's hairy balls, leggo!"

 

"As if sorry could cut it! I'd give you a good thrashing if you weren't made of bloody stone. The next time you decide to run off and dissappear for moons at a time, you tell me, you hear?"

 

Refusal was not an option, his ear was a precious hostage. "Awright, awright, you got it!" 

 

It was sweet relief when she let go and allowed him to cup his hand over the poor, beet-red ear. He was sure that it had been tweaked permanently out of place from the wringing. A hasty peek into a mirror might confirm later. "S'good ta see ya again at any road," He managed weakly.

 

Ginny's snort was far from lady-like, "You wouldn't have seen me at all if my skirt was below my knees. I have some business to attend, but I will find you here afterward and we'll have some tea to catch up, yes?"

 

Tea. Berrod's nose wrinkled, and his reflexes saved him from another snatch at his ear by means of a frantic leap backward. "'Ey, 'ey! Fine! Tea it is. I'll be right here."

 

Ginny narrowed her eyes at him in a threatening fashion before she turned on her heels to stamp down the street toward whatever business she had to do. It mattered not to Berrod; his main concern was nursing his throbbing ear, and remembering to stay put until she got back. For all his training, there was seldom anything he could do to combat the fury of a woman scorned. As he watched her walk, he realized that it was indeed her skirt that had drawn his attention. 

 

Damn, she had a nice arse.