Hair: A wild spill of dark red hair, untamed save for several thin braids woven throughout it. The tips of her hair are often faded to a rusty orange, suggesting that her natural color is far lighter.
Eyes: Amber
Height: 74 ilms (6’ 2")
Build: Lohr is tall and muscular.
Distinguishing Features: A tattoo of a brilliant blue, green and coral colored sea serpent winds around her right arm and up across her shoulders. The head of it is visible on the back of her hand.
Manner of Dress: Long coats, both with or without sleeves, wide belts or sashes, tight pants, tall boots.
Common Accessories: A set of small golden ear hoops, a ratty black and gold cloth she wears alternately as a sash or a headband, the smell of fish and fragrant Doman tobacco, a small ivory cup, foul language, wooden spoons.
Opportunistic smuggler & collector of antiquities.
Skills: Fighting, sailing, shooting, moving things from point A to point B without getting the authorities involved. Asking the right questions. Dealing with the wrong answers.
Hobbies: Drinking, shooting, window shopping, bargain hunting, swimming, eating, reading raunchy adventure novels, smoking, gambling, picking up women, avoiding responsibility, making money, spending money on clothes, alcohol, tobacco and women
Other Relatives: Koto Morikawa (adopted uncle), Ryo Morikawa (adopted cousin), Irynbryda Wilfwybwyn (adopted mother / former captain aboard the Fire's Wake)
Pets: None
🌊TRAITS 🌊
Extroverted / In Between / Introverted
Disorganized / In Between / Organized
Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded
Calm / In Between / Anxious
Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable
Cautious / In Between / Reckless
Patient / In Between / Impatient
Outspoken / In Between / Reserved
Leader / In Between / Follower
Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic
Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic
Traditional / In Between / Modern
Hard working / In Between / Lazy
Cultured / In Between / Uncultured
Loyal / In Between / Disloyal
🌊ADDITIONAL INFORMATION 🌊
Smoking Habit: Yes. Smokes a variety of cigarettes and cigarillos.
Drugs: Occasionally.
Alcohol: Oh yes.
🌊RP HOOKS 🌊
From Foreign Shores: Lorh's accent is clearly not from Eorzea and she has the rough air and vocabulary of a former pirate. Perhaps you recognize her from a trip through the Ruby Sea?
Conscripted Service: Lorh has spent much of the last year completing a semi-voluntary stint under Maelstrom command. Her time aboard The Crying Gull may not have been her plan in coming to Limsa, but she didn't waste the chance to make contacts.
Were you a fellow conscript or sailor?
Pragmatic Pistolier: Since coming to Limsa she has picked up the use of a pistol to augment her sword work and is slowly gaining skill as she finds people to teach her. Perhaps you've got skills with a pistol that she might want to learn about?
Dangerous Dealings: Now that Lorh's been released from the Maelstrom's service she's ready to find more stable and fulfilling work. Her expertise has always been in moving objects, information, or people to places they're needed. Are you looking for someone with her skills? Are you a rival working in Limsa?
🌊OOC INFORMATION 🌊
LORH IS LOOKING FOR
People she can trust to have her back.
Answers about what happened to the rest of her old crew.
Nice clothes.
That one tea that they used to get when they'd take tithe from merchants from Kugane.
I’M LOOKING FOR
LGBTQ+ Friendly spaces to hang out in.
Collaborative storytelling and character development.
Partners to write with - I prefer in game until we've established ourselves, then Discord or Google Docs is fine.
Short or long-term stories!
I'm not looking for romance or ERP - this character has a pre-established relationship in the works. =)c
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
bachelor’s button : does your muse actively seek romantic companionship , or cherish the liberties of being single ?
Pidgeon was no stranger to Ilfent's stall in Hawker's Alley; the accessories the elezen made from seasonal natural materials were one of her favorite occasional treats. But today it wasn't the pink floral arrangements that drew her attention, or even the beaded feather chains. It was that holly leaf hairpin with its soft cream-colored flowers. She couldn't stop thinking about how lovely it would look in a head of red hair.
Flitting from stall to stall, Pidgeon tried to distract herself with the myriad wares Limsa Lominsa had to offer, but her thoughts and gaze kept finding their way back to the pin. She'd been with so many women these past years -- casual amusements after an evening spent chatting at a bar about everything and nothing. No attachments or expectations; no worried objections when she went off on some treacherous errand, no hearts left lonely when she returned to the deep woods. It was better that way. They were fleeting and ephemeral; or maybe Pidgeon was the ephemeral one, a ghost manifesting itself by night for another dance with the living.
Whatever the case, Pidgeon had never thought to buy a gift for any of the women she'd bedded. What was it that made Lorh different? Was being on sabbatical in Limsa relaxing her defenses? Or was she simply changing with the seasons, shedding her old habits like a spent skin? The questions vexed her -- or they should have vexed her, but she couldn't stop imagining how the sailor would react if Pidgeon gave her the pin; how she might handle it gingerly in her slender fingers, the way she'd handled Pidgeon's combs like they were a precious treasure. The thought filled her with an intoxicating warmth and ushered away every misgiving.
When she broke out of her thoughtful reverie, Pidgeon realized she was back in front of the holly hairpin again. Standing behind it with a look of mild exasperation was Ilfent, catching the Veena's eye as he leaned toward her across the stall. "I'll give you a twenty percent discount on it if you'll stop blocking my booth," he said in a low voice.
"Well, then... Who am I to deny providence?" Pidgeon replied with a wry smile, rummaging for her coin purse.
---
Thank you for the ask @vazaymir! 💜
Cribbing @capriciouswolf 's great idea of answering asks with a short fic, which I will probably continue to do since it's pretty fun.
You, frankly, are a goddamn delight. You bring light with you wherever you go, and whether you're aware of it or not, you're the life of the party. Despite your flamboyant nature, you're surprisingly soft. You give the sweetest gifts, and are probably the best amateur masseuse of your friend group. Those closest to you see this softness, and love you for it. Remember this when you are called "too much": there is no such thing as too much of you. People who say those things are just too small to have the space for your light. Don't tone it down, just find people who will treasure every piece of you.
tagged by: @pidgeon-sorrel
tagging: You! No, really! I need more people to follow and this is a new blog. Please tag me so I can see your beautiful characters.
It wasn't that the office was dimly lit, though what light did penetrate the wax paper covering that had been glued to the windows was meager indeed. No, what made the space so damnably difficult to work in was the way the low lantern swayed every time the shop above them got a new customer, sending shadows from the joints of the glass skittering over the pages of tiny print that made up the manifests and ledgers spread out over Lorh's desk.
As the door above her slammed, and the lamp spun its careening dance for the sixth time in the last half-bell Lorh groaned and reached for her cigarette case. That Master Drummons didn't care if she smoked on the job was one of the very limited perks of the position. As the match flared to life Lorh drew in a long pull of the fragrant tobacco and bent back over the manifest she'd been reading.
Her finger ran over the page, seeking out the tiny mark she'd made to indicate which row she'd stopped on. The tightly packed Doman characters crowding down the page, while beside it the same manifest ran horizontally, its Eorzian letters scrawled in a tidy, but cramped hand. Twelve casks of pickling ginger had been ordered by the merchant that had hired Durmmon's Auditing and Insurance Company. And there in the ship's manifest were twelve casks. Lorh's pen ticked a mark by that line and moved on. Five barrels of smoked mackerel. Her finger found the matching line written out in Doman and hesitated over the character scrawled under that column. The ship was carrying six barrels. Lorh smiled as she made a note, highlighting the discrepancy.
She paused for a moment over the line, and took a drag from her cigarette, soothed by the smell and taste of the fragrant tobacco. Her eyes fell back on the manifests and the tiny difference in numbers between the two. Such a small thing. A barrel of fish, and more than asked for was rarely a problem. The accounting house would note it, but as often as not nothing would be done about it.
And of course, that was exactly what most smugglers like herself were counting on. No one wanted to look for a hidden compartment at the bottom of 150 ponze of fish. How many missives and satchels of coin and coffers of rare goods had she hidden among stinking barrels of slimy fish? Too many to count. The more offensive or distasteful the cargo the better hiding place it made. She’d once gotten a 3 yalm tall statue through customs in Kugane by transporting in a narrow boat carrying a shipment of night soil. Smuggling, as it turned out, was often a dirty job in a very literal sense. It was all about knowing how to fly beneath the notice of officials, and while bribery and the occasional dead-of-night skulkery was needed, usually simple inconvenience did the bulk of the work for her.
Even now as she tapped the ash off her cigarette and moved onto the next line she had a suspicion that was exactly what would happen here. Worst case scenario there would be some additional fees or taxes taken, for ultimately that was the entire purpose of her job, to ferret out attempts to circumvent taxes or dock worker’s fees. An odd barrel of fish added up to almost naught among all that, and sending someone down to check on it would cost more gil than it’d earn. So the barrel would be noted, and handled entirely on paper, leaving whoever had placed it there, if indeed it had been on purpose, free to continue with their business.
Lorh took a deep breath and blew out a cloud of blue smoke. The temptation to go down to the docks herself, to look for the barrel with the odd mark, or the bent ribbing, or bit of graffiti was intensely strong. Who knew what she’d find there? Perhaps it would just be fish. Perhaps it would be enough treasure to make her job at the auditor’s shop obsolete. Perhaps it would be medicine, or reports from far-off spies, or ceruleum canisters, or any manner of other fabulous secretive things.
The thrill of even thinking of it set her heart pounding in her chest, and left the taste of the tobacco on her tongue feeling stale. Her eyes lifted from the page and looked around the cramped shop, with its rows of shelves and drawers containing ream after ream of paper. The desks where her fellows were busy scrawling away at similar manifests, comparing goods from all manner of far away places as they flowed into Eorzea’s great shipping hub. Suddenly Lorh felt an edge of panic creeping at the back of her throat and she bent her head back to her work.
Her eyes fell magnetically to the ship’s registry number, the dock where it had set in, the warehouse that was associated with its shipyard. All easy to trace. She knew how to find it, if she wanted. It would be simple. So easy. Too easy.
A shadow fell across her desk as the tall, slender frame of an elezen moved between her and the lamp, “Something the matter, Winnow?”
“Just a bit of a hand cramp,” Lorh lied easily as she looked up at the manager’s passive face. “I’ll be back to it in a moment.”
The elezen paused and set her fingers lightly on the top of Lorh’s manifests, glancing down her long nose and over a pair of silver rimmed spectacles. Then she smiled thinly, “Take your tea if you want to, dear.” With that she swept away, back to sit at her tall counter like some sort of drab vulture. Lorh knew enough by now to look past the woman’s words and capture the meaning of her tone. She stubbed the cigarette out and pushed the fluttering feelings of curiosity away as she picked up the next line.
Eight hundred yalms of hempen cordage. Seventy casks of persimmon wine. Fifteen bales of raw cotton. And on, and on, and on, but beneath it all the hot ember of desire burned in Lorh’s breast, smoldering like a spark above dry powder.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
