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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 mad scrawling's of Jake Lucshen.



Last updated 15/09/19. Next planned update: 21/09/19
Jake steadied his hand as another bump almost completely ruined the page, glaring momentarily toward the front of the bus before returning his attention to the large notepad he had angled against the chair in front of his with the base of the pad resting against his legs. At the top of the page the numbers '635 8' were scrawled with a messily scribbled out 7 spacing the 5 and 8 apart. sketching oddities and assigning numbers over the page as he went, though their apparent meaning would be likely lost on any without context or explanation. A sigh escaped the boy before he announced. "Turn around, this doesn't concern you. Even if I were to explain it you'd likely be little more than confused." As another peering over his shoulder ducked back down into their seat without another word.

It was the second page, the second attempt since the journey had begun. This could only have meant that thus far the journey had taken a significant amount of time, hours in fact. Though Jake seemed barely phased by this, his attention focused on the pad before him. He tensed up once more as the bus hit another bump, though through forceful contact the pencil in his hand snapped against the pad. A heavy sigh of disappointment escaped him as Jake pulled the pad toward him and carefully flipped it shut before laying it flat against his lap. Jake momentarily stood from his seat and tossed the broken drawing instrument through the open window. Had a better suited option of transportation been available to him he would of gladly taken it. Alas his family had not the funds to arrange such a pleasant service. The fact that he had been invited to attend this school seemed more a cruel joke at the time he had received it.

He reached down into his backpack, securely held in an upright stance between his legs and pulled an envelop from within and inspected it as he traced the edges of the sealed flap with his fingers. He glanced at the wax seal that was placed on the centre as he shook his head. "That is far beyond what is allowed." He mumbled to himself as he lowered both his hands towards his backpack, producing a small weak flame and defacing the markings on the wax seal. "Far more appropriate." He stated in acknowledgement to himself before dropping the envelop back into the backpack. How could his own parents be so stupid as to think that it was appropriate to use the old family seal on a letter intended for the staff. Perhaps they thought this was some 'smart' way of rebelling against the restrictions imposed upon them.

Though he hoped the journey would become more stable as they approached their destination the reverse would hold more true. It felt like it could be considered that the bus had bounced rather than been driven to its destination. Jake picked his pad up before pushing himself up to his feet, grabbed his backpack with his free hand and flung the strap over his shoulder. As he approached the front of the bus he stopped before passing the driver and turned his attention to them. "That was unpleasant, though I suppose I should thank you for not getting us all killed." His tone seemed dry, though his choice of word would suggest he was angry. "I hope your drive back is just as eventful." With that said Jake stepped off of bus.

He looked upon the academy in awe from where he stood. A mammoth of a building, one that was not a common occurrence in Jake's life. Maybe such buildings were a common sight prior to the war for his family, but his age gifted him no such pleasure. He just stood there gawking for a few minutes before he finally made his way toward the building as he gripped his pad in his right arm and clung the strap of his backpack with his left hand. Jake passed through the entryway revealing an equally impressive interior, far from the rundown attempt of decoration that adorned his own home. What would possibly be considered the reception for the school carried with it near silence bar the mechanical click of typing from behind the counter. As he approached there was evidence of what seemed a sort of sign in sheet, containing the names of those that had arrived before him.

Jake briefly scanned over the names before freeing his left hand up to add his own name to the bottom of the existing list. Like some automated machine the person behind the counter handed over several sheets of paper to him. He flicked through the hand outs, none seemed particularly relevant to his current situation bar the map. He studied it before raising it, along with the other hand outs to his mouth and gripped them between his lips. He readjusted and grabbed the backpack strap with his left hand again before he headed off to the location he studied as being the common area, the route seemed fairly straight forward so it had been easy enough to commit to memory.

"Welcome students... well we'll see about that." Jake muttered to himself upon seeing the banner above the the entrance to the common area. As he was about to step in the plaque caught his interest. "Ah well that explains things." Jake spied the name 'Firestrom' among those that had 'donated' toward this schools funding. Clearly there was at least one decision maker here that knew of the link between the two families, but who?

Upon seeing the table of food, Jake pushed his trail of thought to the back of his mind. Though fairly hungry he simply grabbed an apple from the offering of food before heading to an empty table and taking a seat, dropping his backpack to the floor and laying his note pad upon the table. Jake removed the handouts from his lips and spread them across the table surface before taking the first bite of the apple. He gazed around the common room at the students that had already arrived, surprisingly the bus he'd traveled on had evidently made him one of the earlier arrivals. Having examined his surroundings, Jake returned his attention to the items he'd received at the sign in counter. Intent at that moment of keeping himself to himself.
Hey, following Echo's request I'd like to submit this CS for review.

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.
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