#uta things

She lives in a fairytale, somewhere too far for us to find

Guilt was a shallow description of what Valentyne felt as he trekked through the wet streets of Ul’dah. His apathetic expression, barely shadowed by the thick brim of his hat, wandered it’s gaze from side to side. Most of the drunks, debasers, and anarchists had long sought shelter from the rain that soaked his obscuring coat. A vain observation, yet peculiar, for despite the various corners and awnings, not a single soul was in sight.

“A lovely day, is it not, Valentyne?” a mischievous voice trailed from a corner behind his left. An abandoned whore’s tent, with a shadowy figure kneeled at it’s entrance. “Come, it’s time.” Valentyne gazed around himself in a discreet manner, double... Even triple checking that no man, woman nor child was in sight. With clenched fists and teeth grit, he turned. The rain weighting heavy on his coat, obstructing it’s flow in the sudden movement.

The figure remained still as Valentyne loomed above her, whom revealed naught but a pair of sharp elezen ears, in the light produced by a sinister crack of lightning. “You look sharp, not your usual style.” the woman uttered. “Skip the pleasantries, you’re no friend of mine.” Valentyne snapped, albeit in a rather calm tone. 

His hands found their way inside the dark coat, and caused a rattle of coins as he untied a pouch of shiny gil. First now did he notice that the tent’s entrance was draped over one of the woman’s shoulders, concealing nearly half of her frame. “... Three families have finally moved on. While we’ve yet to find anything new about the six others, it’d seem that a father took his own life after the incident. As of now, no one knows you’re even alive.” the elezen crook eyeballed the pouch with a white, sparkling grin. With a grunt, Valentyne tossed the pouch into her lap, and turned to walk away. “See that you keep it that way.”

“Not so fast, Valentyne... There’s been a slight change in our agreement.” He paused. Every tendon and nerve in Valentyne’s body tensed up as, a mixture of fear and range stirred the cauldron of recklessness. “What?!” he snarled. “I’m already paying you people twice the amount of our original agreement. What more could you possible want?” The woman bent her neck backwards, revealing mismatched eyes of blue and yellow. “Oh...! Well, more money. You know how these things are.” Valentyne took a step forward. Ofcourse they want more. These crooks are never satisified with just a steady income. “Well, that is not my problem. You know just damned well as I that my problem is your best income. I’m already scrapping the bottom of the coffers to satiate your greedy needs.” He was once more hovering above her now, seething with rage as wet locks clung to Valentyne’s contorted features.

The elezen cackled. “Perhaps not a problem for you, but I imagine it’s going to be a problem for HER!” She flung the tent open, revealing a red haired, freckled raen in distress. Her pleas for help were muffled by a gag of cloth, and a trail of innocent blood teased the edge of a blade held to her cheek. “What was it you said last time? “Not another innocent life”? Then I suggest you find us some income, Valentyne.” He knew this raen, a traveling minstrel whom had a penchant for popping up in the most random taverns and venues.

She drew back her blade. “LET’S MOTIVATE YOU SOME, MURDERER!” Another crack of lightning prompted reaction from every cell in his body. Without even thinking, Valentyne’s boot flung up, and in the blink of an eye the elezen lay sprawled out on the cold, wet ground. Her eyes, rolled back in a ghastly expression as the bone of her nose had smashed into the skull. His pulls quickened, the adrenaline prompting him to bolt and pray people would see the body as just another Pearl Lane squabble gone wrong.

“Mpfh!” the raen muffled, prompting Valentyne to halt in his escape. He had a mind to just leave her, but then it occurred to him that she is, in fact, a witness. Curse these crooks. Curse his past curiosity, and curse this whole damned ordeal. “Haaaah! Houfh! H-okey, okey! What-!” As he pulled the makeshift gag from the minstrel’s mouth, his hand swiftly wrapped itself around her mouth. “Quiet.”

RP Outfits:

1. The standard set Uta has been seen performing in, but with the now ruined  conical strawhat replaced by a black sunhat. It also features her red, knitted fingerless gloves, an eccentric coat, ripped jeans and old, weathered safety boots. Everything Uta needs to look majestic on stage!

2. The outfit Uta is most commonly seen in. It’s laid-back with a loose, green cardigan, a white shirt, denim shorts, clogs, and various flower decorations. It’s the most common outfit Uta is seen in, and only one that reveals the macabre skull tattoos covering her legs and thighs.

3. With her new hat, an over-sized, cropped leatherjacket with frills, the ripped jeans and black jackboots, Uta takes on a more western look (bar the white shirt that reads “Skink Maestro”). It’s most often used in warmer climates where a haori can be ‘bit much. It features a katana that looks more fancy than it is, and with her lack of experience, it might very well just be for show.

4. A green alteration of an outfit seen amongst several samurai. The equipment was provided by a previous mentor whom taught Uta the mere basics of wielding a katana. Along with the haori, it has several eastern decorations along with clogs and shorts underneath boosting mobility.

Other details:

Uta will always carry a bamboo flute on her person, the steel-stringed shamisen is missing from time to time.

She is often accompanied by two critters who act strangely sentient, an otter, and a large jumping spider.

Her hair is a big mess lazily tied into a thick, waist-long braid. Several strands hang loose along with the weathered bangs and is often the home of trinkets and other decorations.