#parcemel

J'ard'a Ornbalt

Ard was raised largely by his father, with some help from his grandfather. That said a lot of the time he was largely unsupervised, which he spent wandering Ul'dah and became fast friends with some other children who spent their time stealing from the purses and stalls of those who seemed to be living comfortably. This exposure to the markets also drew him to find his dream: making jewelry. He spent a lot of time at home experimenting with cheap materials and the odd small gem his father found while mining. He eventually turned to adventuring to earn some spare coin to afford better materials, and unfortunately started just in time to be confronted with the Calamity. Fighting outside the city's gate's scarred him, and he renounced adventuring with no intention of returning to it ever. However in the intervening years between the Calamity and the start of the story he failed to gain a foothold as a jeweler, and barely managed to maintain enough gil to live let alone keep his shop going. This is where he hit a breaking point and had to return to adventuring which would lead him to the events of the msq.

I use to have an RP variant of him, but some of the issues he had as a character made him a bit too difficult for me to use in public, so I actually fairly recently dumpstered that version of him and used a few seeds of that to make a new character: Fukume

edit: Ok I've tweaked him a bit and he now has an rp friendly non-wol realization if anybody wants to interact with him as a non-wol.

Fukume Tamaya

A member of a family of artificers that once served a Hingan lordship both as the crafters they where and also as agents of espionage. After being removed from the service after a changing of the family head, they moved to Eorzea where they opened their shop. She's not very expressive, and tends to keep her mind toward the family craft.

Cota Uurtsaina

My punch lizart. She was brought to Ul'dah with her father when they moved down from the Hellsguard village their ancestors made their new home after being banished from the Kagon tibe. She's actually quite smart, despite acting a bit silly most of the time. Her greatest weakness is sweets, most especially cakes. She tends to work a few odd jobs, usually as muscle.

Yukimura Takeuchi

A vassal to a Doman clan. After the first Doman uprising he began wondering the land thinking the clan fully destroyed, but some time ago he discovered the heir to the clan had been secreted away and brought him back. Currently he is helping guide the young heir and restore the clan's land and holdings. He is boisterous and something of a battle junkie, but is unerringly kind.

Parcemel Duboix

Son of a vicious pirate. He was raised harshly by his father, and never knew his mother. He escaped as a boy, setting his father's ship ablaze and risking death rowing to Limsa. There, he made a living using the one skillset he had been taught: violence. After some time he moved to Ul'dah to start over, and met his future wife. He's largely settled down now, typically only taking the occasional well paying contract.

Gaenabi & Munini

A brother and sister.

Gae was found in the Twelvewood as a child by the woman who would become his adoptive mother. He was found succumbing to disease, and when he awoke he was mute and had no memory of his life before. After growing up, he took after his adoptive father and became a Wailer.

Munini was always the curious sort, and as a child would regularly take apart whatever she could get her hands on and put it back together into something new. Eventually she invented an aethertech tablet for Gae that would project whatever he wrote on it into the air to help him communicate to most people.

Amarantos

An artificial living person created at some indiscernible time. She's doing her best to live a real life while trying to figure out her origins with what few clues she has.

Kuhjo Guinocont

He slipped disjointedly between awareness and oblivious.

The cries of seagulls grew pitched.

He stopped bobbing.

Where those... voices? In the middle of the ocean? He must have lost it, no one else should be out here, and they sounded so far away. He had been drifting for gods know how long. Surely he was sun-addled.

A jerk, and he felt himself being raised up.

Shouting, accompanied by the familiar creek of boots on planks. Ah, maybe he had been dreaming. He'd never escaped, blasted that foul ship to pieces. He would open his eyes soon and be marched onto the deck for 'training' again.

A cool, wet sensation on his lips. The sting of contact with... something. They were numb yet crisply painful from the pressure.

A somewhat firm, fuzzy dampness on his forehead.

Stone. That was what his body was made of. The groggy thought trudged its way into his mind, riding the pulses of exhaustion that rippled through his rebellious form with each heartbeat. Any attempt to move and his muscles would revolt, digging red hot needles down into his core. Cracked lips burned with each hoarse breath that passed. The wrathful sun mocked him, bursting past his eyelids as it cooked him alive.

How long had he been here? When was it that he had summoned what little strength he had to pull himself onto the tiny shoreboat, mouth full of seawater and lungs screaming for air? A day? Two? With how often he drifted in and out of consciousness, it might as well have been a sennight. And yet despite all this he could not help but smile, lips screaming and iron hitting his tongue.

He was free.

Free from his mother's tyrannosaurus training. Free from his father's greed. Free from their shared bloodlust. Even if he died, for these last few moments, he would be free.

The ships slowly grew nearer and nearer, and the crew muttered amongst themselves. Most where theorizing what might lay in their potential target's hold. Others discussed the chances that it was some other pirate's ship. A handful, including the young boy, simply stood at their posts, waiting for the captain's order.

While most of the crew seemed excited at the prospect of raiding, the boy couldn't help but dig his nails into his palms. He knew what the captain's order would be already: flag down the ship under the pretense of seeking aid to draw them in, and then once they where within striking distance he'd call the crew to board. It was his favorite tactic with chance crossings like this. And then he'd have to fight to 'earn his keep.' He could hardly keep himself with shaking at the thought, and only the pain radiating from his hands kept him in place.

The young man stared at himself nervously in the mirror, scanning every ilm of his outfit in a desperate hunt for any hint of a wrinkle. He must have straightened the cuffs of his shirt a dozen times, and recombed his hair near as many times. He must present himself perfectly, he had concluded; anything less and he could consider this job as good as lost.

If his contact was correct, the merchant he was to be questioned by was gunning for a seat in the Syndicate, and their plot was moving ahead well. Anyone that ambitious, he reasoned, would not settle for their muscle to be any sun-addled ruffian off the street. At least not any muscle they intended to keep around, and he hadn't freed himself from his father and nearly drowned just to choke on his own blood in some dusty Ul'dahn alleyway.

A warm fire, a glass of mulled wine, and a delightful new story; the elezen considered all these things as he stroked the hair of his daughter, curled up asleep in his lap. Few things could make this a better night, he thought. He lowered the book to offer a smile to his wife sitting across him, only to find that at some point she too had drifted off, her own book now laid across her lap with her fingers still propping it open. He chuckled softly at the sight before marking his page and laying his book on the side table. He scooped up his daughter, who only stirred lightly as her position changed, and took her to her room and tucked her in.

As he returned to the study he laid a hand on his wife's shoulder. "If you are going to sleep best do it bed, my love," he half whispered.

"Mm, yes darling?" As she came back to, his wife set aside her book and hazily looked about. "Ah, I suppose this isn't quite the best place to nod off is it? My muscles would have a word with me in the morning if I stayed here all night."

"That they would, dearest," he replied as he took her hand and helped her up. "And I would very much not like you complain about it all day tomorrow. Tria would come running to me when I get home and tell me about the monster that walked about the house dressed like mommy," he teased.

"Perhaps," she chuckled, "but then at least maybe we could get her to eat her carrots."