Everybody's Grunge [OPEN]

[Gegenji]

"Err.. well..." Oriri began, a bit surprised at actually getting some attention.

 Any manner of response beyond that, however, was interrupted as Phye descended on her friend again. The Highlander's hand grasped the Plainsfolk by the top of the head and pushed downward, sending the Lalafell into an unintentional bow towards Adeya.

 

"'course she does, lookit 'er," the Hyur answered in Ori's stead, leaning on her diminutive companion's head for support. "Hell, she probably wouldn'tve come out this way if I hadn't dragged her along."

 

"It's... it's 'wouldn't have'..."

 

"What was that, nutkin?" Phye questioned immediately, pushing down again on the smaller Lalafell. "Squeak up."

 

"N-nothing, nothing."

 

"Hmph," was the Highlander's response. She seemed almost... disappointed. She glowered down at the Plainsfolk for a moment before shoving off her, sending Oriri stumbling forward into Adeya. "Well, have fun stuttering. I'm gonna find out more about the punchy lady; since, y'know, she's actually interesting."

 

With a dismissive wave, Phye returned to pumping Cliaux for information. Where she learned to fight, how strong she thought she was, and other such things. She even pressed for any tales of any interesting fights she had gotten into.

 

Oriri, on the other hand, pushed off Adeya with a softly muttered apology and tried to dust off her already quite damp and grimy clothing.

[Idristan Agache]

Adeya's eyes narrow slightly as she watches Phye, while down at her feet Cyan, noting her change in mood, glances up towards her with its tails lashing. Though she makes no move to interfere with what’s going on, it’s clear that she doesn’t particularly like it. Either that or she just doesn’t like Phye; from the look on her face it’s impossible to guess which.

 

Still, that probably would have been the end of it, if Phye hadn’t sent Oriri in her direction—literally. As the Plainsfolk and her grimy clothes crash into her, Adeya manages to remain on her feet as she gently pushes Oriri away from her. Next she glances down, her nose slightly wrinkling in disgust as she notes the swamp muck now staining the lower part of her previously white shirt. With a small sigh that would probably be lost in the sound of the rain, she glances down at Oriri.

 

“It’s fine,” she says quietly to the apologizing Plainsfolk. However, after giving her a small, perhaps not entirely sincere smile, her eyes have gone back to Phye. “Oversized bully,” she mutters under her breath—though perhaps not quietly enough for the Highlander to miss…

[Steel Wolf]

Even though Cliaux was smiling at the Highlander, she was inwardly rolling her eyes at the consistent shoving of her Lalafell companion. She let the rising annoyance go with an exhalation of breath. Who knew that centering yourself wasn't just useful in combat?

 

"I like to believe I'm a fistfighter, yea. Oh, hey, you ever try out some of the back-alley street fights in Ul'dah? Man. Those were some cool matchups. And you faced off against all sorts of unique opponents!"

 

She looked over her shoulder, giving the Plainsfolk a wink as she continued. "For instance, you might think that a Lalafell would have a disadvantage in a fistfight, right? But you'd be wrong. You're the weakest at the knees. For example, if I were a Lalafell, say. I'd punch right at this joint. Right here." She pointed out the tendon linking the Highlander's calf to his thigh. "Brings you down low, then opens you up to a punch to the chest or the face or the throat. You ever take a Lalafell's fist to the throat? I mean, I haven't but I saw this one guy? That little man's fist buried itself and just looked like it hurt!"

[Gegenji]

Phye stared at Cliaux. Hard. Those brown eyes of hers burrowing into the Elezen's own with a fiery intensity of a proud Ala Mhigan woman.

 

"Are you... trying to get Ori to punch me?" A tense beat, and then she burst into raucous laughter and slapped Cliaux firmly on the back. "Ha, I knew I liked ya! I hope the little nutkin takes you up on your advice! I've been trying to toughen her up for years! She would hardly even talk when I first came across her crunchin' numbers at the Arcanist's Guild, y'know."

 

"I... I was actually just cataloguing the various--"

 

"You're squeaking again, nutkin," the Highlander intoned, motioning to the very tendon Cliaux had not moments before, "when you should be paying attention! Did you see where she pointed? Good punch here'll drop me, apparently. You should give it a go!"

 

"B-but... I... I don't..."

 

"Pah!" Phye let out a disgusted sigh and shook her head as she returned her attentions to the Elezen, wrapping her arm roughly around her and drawing her close. "See what I mean? Trembling little thing. Took a lot of prodding to get her to come out here in the first place. I had to practically drag her here."

 

Given the way she cracked her knuckles before folding her arms over her well-toned chest after letting go of Cliaux, the Highlander's tone easily implied that it she may have meant what she said quite literally. Of course, given their size difference, it wasn't all that hard to imagine the taller woman picking up the little Plainsfolk bodily and carrying her along underarm like a parcel meant for delivery. On foot. From Limsa all the way here.

 

Speaking of here, the rain was starting to pick up some, hammering down with a little more intensity. At the location marked on all the flyers, there was quite a lot of commotion going on. At least a dozen small figures darted about trying to toss tarps over things and pull down any of the more flimsy decorations to avoid them getting ruined by the rain. Each one was draped in a heavy brown robe, with their hoods pulled down low to both protect the wearer's face from the rain... and obscure their features. They were mostly quiet in their endeavor, save for a little squeak of concern here and there as they sought to batten down the hatches until the storm passed.

 

Meanwhile, though he couldn't see the chaos at the ruins, Stout Pillar simply smiled and whispered a small thanks to the Twelve for aiding him in his righteous quest. He snagged a hip flask from his belt and took a victorious nip from it before shoving it back into place with a contented sigh. Maybe the Twelve would be so kind as to wash away the problem for him entirely, then he wouldn't even have to bother trudging over there in a couple bell's time to put those miscreants and their deluded sycophants in their place.

[Idristan Agache]

Still glaring over at Phye, Adeya watched this exchange with an annoyed and perhaps a touch disappointed expression: she had been somewhat hoping that the Highlander would overhear her. However, before she had time to decide whether or not she wanted to push the matter, something that Phye said gave her pause. Those watching closely might notice that one of her ears twitched slightly at the mention of the word “Arcanist”. In any case, some of the anger drained from her face as she looked down at Oriri again, this time giving the Lalafell her complete attention.

 

“You’re an arcanist?” she asks for conformation, her carmine colored eyes searching the Plainsfolk’s face intently for a moment before she finally frowns. Up until very recently, she had been working for the Guild herself and was still considered a member, even if they were no longer paying her salary. Yet for some reason, whether because they had never run into each other or because she had just never made much of an impression, Adeya was having trouble placing her.

 

“Funny. I didn’t recognize you,” she goes on, a note of apology in her voice. More quietly, she adds: “So why do you put with this? After all, you should know how to stand up for yourself.” From the puzzled look on her face, it was clear that the miqo’te mage was having trouble seeing what Oriri saw in Phye… or possibly why she had refrained from siccing a summon on her.

[Telluride]

The tall, broad-shouldered figure took one last look back at the host of scampering salamanders as they slithered and writhed and disappeared into the grey murk of the lake and the rain, and offered but a final shrug before pulling the cloak tighter around him, and following the clusters of people collecting among the facilities at the lake in the intensifying rain.

 

He approached the small knot of people that had faced down the Alpha Eft, coming close enough, just in time, to see the Elezen and the tall woman of Highland features facing off, and the latter making a physical and verbal show of herself.

 

That was one thing about Bronze Lake - even in a driving rain, the scenery was quite magnificent.

 

He folded his arms and stayed a couple of paces back, not wanting to interrupt the Miqo'te lass' questioning the lalafell.

[Steel Wolf]

Cliaux nodded. She could sort of see where this Highlander was coming from. It wasn't too dissimilar to the probing and prodding that her own master at the Pugilist's Guild had offered her. It looked cruel to those on the outside, and...well...it was. But some people either responded to it and some people wilted and withered.

 

It was taking the Lalafell some time...but she was responding. Slowly.

 

She nearly lost her breath as the hearty slap across her back in delight caught her by surprise, so by the time the Highlander had drawn her in to whisper she was already set for the woman's strength, her own powerful form tensing as Phye complained about her ministrations. She offered the Highlander another bright smile, this time beaming more earnestly.

 

"Just keep trying. Obviously, the 'nutkin' is worth the effort. And she might just surprise you!"

 

She looked ahead as the layout of the Bronze Lake began to loom large through the rain. She took a quick look down at the flier that was stowed away within her tunic, trying to shield it from the damp as much as possible. "I think we're getting close, friends! Shouldn't be long now!"

[Gegenji]

Oriri looked up at Adeya when the question of her profession was posed, though she looked away again under the albeit brief intensity of her gaze. She seemed to shrink a bit more when the Miqo'te failed to remember seeing her around the Arcanist's Guild. The Plainsfolk had seen the dark-haired Keeper around often enough but, as Adeya had correctly assumed, she had spent most of her time there being quiet and mostly flying well under the radar.

 

"Ah, um... w-well, you see..." she mumbled and bumbled, fidgeting in place. It was quite easy to tell how she had earned that nickname the Highlander had given her - her little hands were curled timidly at her chest and her blue eyes flitting to look at anything other than the person she was speaking to. All she needed was a fuzzy curled tail twitching anxiously behind her and she'd easily pass for a nutkin. "I... I... I, um... err..."

 

"Nutkin," Phye roared again, giving a glare over her shoulder that sent the little Lalafell stumbling back a couple steps to hide behind Adeya. That seemed to be as far as the towering Hyur was willing to go this time, even if she raised a hand to imply that the Plainsfolk was about to intimately become familiar with the back of it. Ultimately, though, she just growled and seethed as she turned her attentions back to Cliaux. "She'd better, if she knows what's good for her. If there's one thing I hate, it's wastin' my time."

 

Oriri peeked out from behind Adeya, before turning her gaze back up to the Keeper.

 

"S-sorry," she mumbled, looking about ready to go through an entire dramatic play's worth of ellipses as she fell to fidgeting again. "A-anyroad, I'm... I'm not actually an... an Arcanist. I-I'm.. just a... a clerk. I, um, I tend to... to the books. And... and r-read some of them... A lot of them."

 

Her down-turned gaze fell upon Cyan, who seemed to be keeping close to the both of them. For just a brief moment, the worry and timidness melted from the Plainsfolk's gaze, the glittering critter reflected a bit in her azure orbs. It was back again, though, when she turned her attentions back to the Miqo'te to ask a question of her own.

 

"U-um... can I... y'know, if it's okay... and it's fine if it isn't... but... I mean... if I could..."

 

"Nutkin!"

 

"Eep!" She cowered, covering her head as if she expecting another punch to strike her there. "Couldiprettypleasepetyourcarbuncle?"

[Telluride]

The sodden cloak, and the rainsoaked man under it, had come close enough to the little group to be observed, and both seemed to flinch slightly at the Highland woman's latest verbal onslaught upon the timid Lalafell.

 

...and apparently, the hubbub had something to do with the carbuncle, whose radiance lit up the surrounding rain like a misty aura. Carbuncles were nice, he supposed, and were especially handy for creating instant squee in many fine and lovely women, but it wasn't what he'd come for: no Tonberries yet, though he himself wouldn't have put on a show in the driving rain, either, and that lurking guard nearby may have simply devoured them, for the look he had been casting upon the gathering groups.

 

Seeing that the loud Hyur and the Elezen were fully engaged, and that the rest of the group seemed to be clustered around the carbuncle as if it were an opening act, he simply grinned to himself, and moved up behind Jancis, stage-whispering into her ear...

 

"The Tonberries have come for YOUR SOUL..."

[Idristan Agache]

As Oriri seemed to shrink under her gaze, a hint of annoyance began to creep back onto Adeya’s face. As much as she didn’t like Phye’s pushing people around, the sight of the Lalafell practically cowering in front of her wasn’t doing much to improve her mood either. After all, as far as the Miqo’te knew she was a fellow mage, and as such she was inclined to see Oriri’s behavior as rather unbecoming.

 

“Look at—“ she started, but was once again cut off by the Highlander. Adeya almost didn’t notice when Oriri went to go hide behind her; she was too busy meeting Phye’s glare with one of her own. Apparently bullying won out over cowering. Yet before Adeya had a chance to tell Phye exactly what she thought of the implied threat to Oriri, the Lalafell was apologizing. Again. Adeya’s ears flattened slightly as she let out an exasperated breath. This was just getting ridiculous.

 

“As long as you promise to stop apologizing, go ahead,” she said finally, letting some of her annoyance creep into her voice. Evidently she realized this, for when she glanced back down at Oriri and Cyan her face softened just a bit. Whether it was because she knew Oriri wasn’t a mage, or because she looked so unhappy at being called nutkin, when she speaks again her tone has lost some of the bite. “After all, Cyan wouldn’t hurt you.”

 

Her eyes snap back up to give Phye a rather pointed look as she adds, in a slightly raised voice: “He only does that when I tell him to.”

[Gegenji]

"O-okay," Oriri managed with an eager nod of her head before turning her attentions to the glowing aetheric critter. A hand tentatively, shakily reached out towards Cyan and patted the Carbuncle lightly on the head once before retreating to safety. Once she was certain nothing untoward would happen, she tried for a couple more. It wasn't long until she was patting the summon's head and tickling under his chin, looking the happiest she'd been all sun even despite the grime that still clung to her lower half. Should one listen close enough, they might even here a giggle or two.

 

"I heard you the first time, lady," Phye responded flippantly to Adeya's comment, waving the one hand that wasn't still wrapped tight around Cliaux around idly. "Bully, threats, blah blah blah. You trying to be her great protector or something? Save her from all the big, nasty meanies of the world? Or are you just gonna stand there and complain?"

 

The Highlander turned her gaze back onto the Elezen, giving an overly dramatic shrug of the shoulders and a shake of the head.

 

"Some people, huh? Yeesh."

 

At the site, things seemed to have settled down some. Tarps had been thrown over the instruments up on the Wanderer's altar, shielding them from the rain, while others were also cast over the random assortment of stools and chairs that had been collected for those seeking to sit. No one would enjoy listening to music with a wet bottom, after all.  There were still some stubborn decorations refusing to come down from their perches, but the little stagehands were doing their best.

 

As the crowd grew nearer, some of the outlying robed figures worriedly glanced their way. Along with their heavy hoods, the wooden masks underneath hid their faces. It could be mistaken for a sinister thing if not for the childishly-carved smiley faces and caricatures of the Eorzean races painted onto them. The designs and markings looked less like a cult and more a bunch of children trying to throw their own masquerade ball. Still, the squeaks of worry from behind the masks were not quite so cheerful, since they hadn't expected guests to arrive so soon.

 

And this rain! This accursed rain! They could only hope it would stop before the performance was due to start. Preferably well beforehand so they could get the decorations back up.

[E'jusana]

Just as soon as Ana started walking with the crowd after the efts scurried off she realized that Terra, her fine-feathered friend, had not followed as she expected. She turned and saw that the blue bird had gotten distracted by some small plant and was scratching at it. Ana sighed and started back towards the bird, "Come on, Terra." she urged as she tugged on the reins. The bird remained focused on the spot even after several minutes of Ana trying everything to convince it that they needed to follow the others before the efts came back to gobble the both of them up. "...and I don't know about you but I don't want to be that slimy thing's next snack. Pleeease come on." With one final tug the chocobo finally finished digging in the muck and followed.

 

By this time most of the group were almost to the ruins already. Ana tried not to attract the attention of the rain-bathing creatures as she hurried to catch up with the others.

[Idristan Agache]

The summon would glance up curiously as someone reached down to pet his head. His beady black eyes would go over to Adeya for a moment, evidently seeing if he should do something about this stranger touching him; however, upon being ignored he would turn back to Oriri. As the Lalafell began to tickle his chin the summon’s tails would begin to twitch, giving the distinct impression that the little blue creature was enjoying all the attention.

 

Meanwhile, Adeya wasn’t really paying attention to either carbuncle or Oriri. Instead she was staring at Phye.

 

“’Great protector?’” The Miqo’te snorted derisively. “Not at all. She should stand up for herself. But I fail to see how hitting her about the head will accomplish that,” she snapped. For a moment it seemed like she would add more, however eventually she just folded her arms across her chest as she took a deep breath. Though she had to admit that Phye had a point, her methods of getting it across had managed to get under her skin.

 

However, now that they were getting within sight of the ruins she wasn’t really interested in continuing the fight further. Instead, she was peering off into the distance, trying to see if she could make out anything through the rain. She hadn’t forgotten why they were here after all.

[Gegenji]

"... The hell?" Phye managed, raising an eyebrow as the group of tiny masked folk - or, perhaps, tinier folk considering her Highlandian heritage - that had all frozen at the arrival of the quite varied crowd of concert-goers, as if Shiva herself had caused a limb-seizing cold-snap at the site just moments before. As if to add to the scene, the rain slowly tapered to a stop, leaving little sound beyond the dripping of rainwater from the various jutting pieces of architecture into the swampy water below.

 

And then it all burst into motion again. The figures were darting everywhere; not to escape from the arrivals but to hurriedly set everything back into place. Chairs were rapidly un-stacked and places into messy little rows, stools and ladders appeared almost from nowhere to get the decorations back from the spots they had been so hurriedly torn down from. The only constant seemed to be the tarps up on the altar itself, the apparent "stage" for the performance.  Where everything else was a blur of robes and childishly-smiling masks. they stood silent as a quiet offering of surprises to come.

 

While the tiny prep team and (most likely) the gathering crowd were grateful for the rain finally abating, there was one who was not so happy. One who stared up angrily at the cloudy sky, as if his glare would be enough to cow the heavens and split them open again with rain and wind. He tried this a few times, interspersed with a couple glances in the direction of the Wanderer's altar, before Stout Pillar made his displeasure about the change in weather known.

 

"Oy! OY! Thal's balls!" the Roegadyn exclaimed, shaking an irate finger skyward. "Don't stop now! Those malcontents are going to be able to set up for their Twelves-damned little cult gathering!"

 

If he had been wealthy enough for a pocket-watch, Stout would have spent the rest of his shift glancing irritably about it. Instead, he kept glancing back towards the gates of the camp proper in hopeful expectation of his relief. The moment they arrived and he was off the clock, he would gather as many of the - obviously numerous, in his mind - like-minded citizens and go put a stop to this nonsense. If the Twelve wouldn't intervene, then he would.