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Hey there everyone. I'm currently in the process of trying to come out of RP Hiatus. I won't lie, I completely lost my muse for writing anything but really want to get back into it again.

So all I'll say is if you see me lurking about on your page but not saying anything, it's nothing personal. Chances are I'm interested and trying to gauge whether or not I'd be able to keep up in terms of writing quality. Or even think up a character that I can drop in with you guys.

Hopefully one day, with a bit of help from the guild, I can once again return to role-playing on a regular basis.

Most Recent Posts

The soft breeze of The Silver Bazaar brushed against Kash's cheek as the Miqo'te sat on the edge of the pier with fishing pole in hand. The wind was hardly comforting as it carried the heat of the arid lands surrounding with it. Kash recalled that most would say it was a rather unnatural coastal breeze, brought on with the many changes the land experienced five years ago. Though with naught to compare it with he could only nod in acknowledgement of the comment.

The Miqo'te's eyes were solely locked on the pole as he watched for movement, a bait box to his left and small basket on the right, containing the prizes of this days visit. Hardly enough to feed those gluttons. Kash thought to himself as he sat patiently. A strange hobby for a resident of Ul'dah, but one he oft saw himself partaking in, if nothing else it provided time away from the busy streets.

As the pole jolted Kash quickly tightened his grip as he began to reel in the potential bite. This was the exciting part, the sudden change of pace and rush of thought and reaction. To Kash the sudden transition matched what any pugilist should aim for when changing tact in combat. Though typically caught off guard by the initial moment, this only made the catch more fun to achieve. Kash briefly eye'd the haul of Anchovies that currently laid within the basket. Comeon... Tiger Cod... He could only hope for something more appealing to take back, lest he be served a flurry of complaints on his return. His eyes lit, with a stupid grin plastered on his face as he stood victorious staring at the bounty. Though not too long, lest he risk it wiggling loose, Kash removed the fish from the hook before slapping it against the pier and tossing it into the basket.

Kash prepared another piece of bait carefully, as he lifted the rod preparing to cast once more. No sooner had he cast his line had an insistent ringing began in his ear. With a roll of his eyes Kash quickly reeled the line back in before raising his right hand up to his ear. "Kash here."
"Kash, you need to get back to the city. You're supposed to be on guard duty." Kash sighed as he picked up his bait box and rested it atop the haul of fish in his basket. He leaned his fishing pole against his shoulder before replying. "Fine, I'm heading there now."
"You know what the Master said. If you want in on the tournament, then you need to help out with security."
"Would of been nice to have a say in whether we should stretch the numbers thin at such a time. This would of been a great time to try and spot new potential." Kash began his walk back as he walked up the stairs from the pier and pass the market stalls of the Bazaar.

Having spent his life in the Thanalan region, the heat seemed hardly noticeable. However the traffic from Horizon to the Gate of the Sultana was very different. The celebrations being held in Ul'dah was seeing a predictably large number of residents from both Limsa Lominsa & Gridania heading to Ul'dah. In fact the Silver Bazaar was one of the only places that was still relatively quiet. From this increase in people traffic, the Brass Blades had to reach out to the Guilds and Immortal Flames for support in maintaining near adequate levels of security. This in turn had lead to Kash's current predicament, he didn't like it, nor did the Blades but neither had any real choice.

As he was about to step through the gates and back into the city he spotted someone. These were the types that he would be watching out for over the next few days. Cutpurses, pickpocket, thieves any of these could apply to these unsavory characters. Kash paused as he just glared at the individual who was counting out the coins from a small leather bag, the wrapped rope sheered ends dangling at either side of the bag. "Quite the small purse, get that from one of our guests? No citizen of Ul'dah would carry such a small quantity of coin." The cutpurse froze upon being called out on their actions. "If you're still holding onto that by 'morrow I'll be coming for it. So I better see it on the other side of the bar at the Quicksand later." With that Kash continued into the city, he didn't need a scene to be caused at the city gates so close to the Blades. As he approaches the guards within the city wall he informs them. "Keep an eye on the guy other end of the gate, don't want our guests knowing Ul'dah is completely full of thieves."

Emerald Avenue, usually a quiet section of the city, was overcrowded with citizens of the Three Nations some of the foreigners stuck out more than others as not being from Ul'dah. Though Kash had not the time, nor the interest to mingle with the cities guests. He had his own tasks that he needed to complete for the day. He made his way into the Guild building dropping his fishing gear and haul off on the reception counter. "One Cod, ten Anchovies." Kash said with a sigh. "Glad I'm not the chef, so where are they putting me?"
"Duty at the Quicksand." The receptionist replied to Kash's enquiry as they eyed the list of Pugilists and their respective duties.
"What?! Is that the Blades idea of a bad joke?"
"No... but they also want you to deliver three cases of mead to the Syndicate hall before keeping an eye on the patrons. I believe that's their idea of a joke. There's also this" The receptionist pushed a package across to Kash's side of the counter. "From Limsa."
"Metal Cesti's... must be for the tournament. Keep 'em here, I best get going, less the Blades come to drag me to the Quicksand themselves."

A short lived visit to the Guild house, there was no time to rest for the residents of Ul'dah as the celebration hosts. The miqo'te made his way to the Quicksand. Entering from the Ruby Road entrance, he approached the bar with a smile, though his un-amused voice revealed his true thoughts of the situation. "Three cases of mead... for the Syndicate hall." The bartender stacked the cases of bottles atop the bar whilst Kash glanced back over the patrons, so many strangers, hardly any familiar faces. It was almost strange, he'd now consider Ul'dah his home yet most of the patrons at its bar this day were not the locals. Once they were prepared Kash turned once more sliding the cases of alcohol into his grip, making his way for the Steps of Thal.

The traders markets, the arena and all the trade guilds. These made the Steps of Thal a daunting place for Kash. Carrying his fragile load the Miqo'te navigated through the crowd. The odd hiss escaping him each time he knocked shoulders with those ignorant enough to make no effort to allow him space to pass. Eventually reach his destination, a member of the Brass Blades raise his hand, indicating for Kash to stop. "Three cases of mead, for the Syndicate hall." Kash's tone had not changed since his original request at the Quicksand. "We got it from here, return to your position Kash Tia." Kash suppressed a building anger from the tone with which the Blades member addressed him. Such an errand could have easily been accomplished by anyone, seems it was fortunate this is the only requests the Blades had made from this momentary time of holding power over Kash's actions.

With the pointless side task completed, Kash headed back to the Quicksand. Entering once again from the Ruby Road entrance as he stops by the door leaning against the Tavern and Inn's wall. He raised his hand up to his right ear, covering it before speaking. "Kash Tia in position. Nothing to report." Though the importance of the role was not lost on him it was more than likely to be a boring one. The chance that any of the visitors would be stupid enough to act out in violence was likely slim, no if anything it was more likely to be the locals being not so welcome to their guests that was more possible.
Male Miqo'te (Sun) pugilist

Edit: oh if adding craft/gather job then I'don't like mine to be a fisherman.
@AmbraYes I should be able to muster a couple of posts per week reasonably enough. I try to keep my thinking one post ahead, so doesn't usually take me that long to post it's just finding the time to do it. I can login every day to keep up with everything that's going in.
I would like to potentially follow suit of my actual character in FFXIV of a Miqo'te Pugilist/Monk.
Potentially interested, could I get an idea of what you'd anticipate the pacing to be? Full-time employment and GMT time-zone tend to not make role playing easy.
I'd like to express my interest if you're still considering it. Let me know and I'll knock together a character sheet.
Sent my CS by pm at the weekend
Interested, would this be following the base lore of any particular final fantasy in-terms of the magic system/world tech?
Downtown Washington D.C., 12:25pm

A trading post, or so the markings outside would lead one to believe. Whatever... this was it certainly wasn't any trading post, at least not anymore. The carcass that was once a small store had been all but picked completely clean, with broken glass and fittings now scattering the floor. Jake trod carefully as he attempted to manoeuvre his way around without sounding like a one animal stampede, occasionally he'd shuffle his foot gently to push shards of glass or metal along the floor to create a makeshift path. With a soft sigh he negotiated his way to the store counter before swinging his backpack off of his shoulders. These leftovers were better then finding nothing at the very least, the sort of things people were willing to part with these days.

One item in particular caught his attention as he scooped up the small LED flashlight, bargain find. He twisted the flashlights head and at the first sign of life switched it back off before sliding it into his pocket. This if nothing else indicated that whoever had once manned this post had clearly left in a hurry, having left their prizes behind. That's if they left willingly, the place was a dump but trying to identify if that was just the natural appearance these days or a sign of a fight was never clear. But blood... blood was always a clear giveaway. Jake frowned softly as he found his evidence across the counter, no body meant that it was unlikely the blood of a killing wound, but it mattered not. There was no point letting any of these trinkets go to waste, even as useless as they currently looked.

Jake had gathered the odds and sods of items as he flipped open his bag and dropped the pieces in. Mainly pre-end collectables that some still obsessed over even now, you'd think people would have their priorities in order when it'd been over a month since this all started. Then there was the finest currency, or nearly finest, casings. Useless to Jake but it could come in handy to keep those, never know when someone has some useful supplies to trade. Having taken the leftovers like a magpie picking up glistening trinkets Jake craned his head around to try and look for anything else amongst the rubble, wishing thinking it would seem, clearly looters prior to him had taken all the food and drinks that once would of bought money here.

Preparing to leave Jake wrestled free his scarf from his back as he wrapped it round to cover his mouth and grabbed on of his spray paint cans before sliding the bag back on to his shoulders. As he headed for the door there was a sound, almost like a rumbling... getting louder. It was evidently coming from outside, it wasn't heavy enough to be machines but something was moving and a lot of them. It took Jake a moment to scoot behind a battered section of shelving as he saw that all to familiar sight of rotting flesh charging past the store front. Such large numbers, all heading the same way, clearly heading somewhere they'd shown little interest in the store thankfully. Seeing what seemed the last of them Jake stood back upright as he jigged his crowbar free from its lodging before heading for the door once more.

A straggler, the beaten corpse had struggled to maintain the pace and fallen behind but was close enough to be an issue. The natural reaction had been the jab outwardly with his crowbar as the makeshift weapon pierced through the corpses throat like a hot knife gliding into butter. Jake gagged, he had hoped he'd gotten used to that by now before pulling through upward, freeing the head from the rest of the body, rotten innards spilling from both wounds. A heavy outward breath forced Jake's small breakfast to stay firmly in place. He could see the tail end of the horde further up the street but there was something to take care of first. Jake quickly shook the can of aerosol paint before spraying a cross over the previous trading post markings to prevent unfortunate souls wasting their time.

His task complete Jake began to make his way in the same direction as the undead were going. The opposite way would likely lead him toward their higher ranks, which he'd rather avoid if possible. On another note those mindless monstrosities were clearly after something or going somewhere, and he wanted to find out what that was. Perhaps this so called relic that he'd been hearing about being around here. He sure hoped it wasn't one of those 'I heard about this...' 'well we heard that...' situations. Last thing he needed right now was bad intel.
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