#veriinya

1) I miss playing my cinnamon roll way way too much.

2) I miss being in an RP guild where I had a wide variety of IC interactions and my characters had a definable ‘purpose’ (even if, in Keia’s case, it was just to fuck things up).

3) ICly, Veriinya is a vanilla fighter, but I’ve never been able to get really excited about warriors, so I played her as a paladin for 2 years.  I’m leaning strongly toward changing my monk to be Veri.  (The monk has always been a secondary representation of Keia, to represent her scrappy fighting style, but now that Survival is melee I got that covered)

I love the folks of the guild I’m in, but they’ve all moved to Final Fantasy (Which I understand- I just can’t get into the game myself), so I’ll discuss with Ark and when the dust settles in the real world (we have A LOT going on over the next two weeks), I’ll maybe start hunting.

When I had to let go of a very close friendship last year, I had a really hard time keeping up my enjoyment and desire to RP my draenei; so much was wrapped up in that friendship.  We plotted together, we discussed stuff OOCly, our characters were close ICly... it was literally like having all the wind removed from my sails and I’ve been sitting in the calm ever since.

In our discussions, Ark suggested that maybe it was time to look at the characters and rethink some of the history I had done for them.  Neither of us are big fans of retcons- it can easily get to the point where story development is meaningless because there’s no sense of permanence.

But at the same time, my sense of direction and purpose has been gone for over a year, and it’s entirely possible that rewriting things a bit can rejuvenate my enjoyment and desire to play these characters and write for them again.

I doubt I will go into much detail on Tumblr; the changes won’t impact anyone but myself, Ark and one other, and I’d rather discuss them out of the public eye.

Veriinya wrapped a robe around herself, stepping out onto the tiny platform that humans optimistically called a balcony.  It was either very late... or very early, depending on one’s perspective.  She rested a hip against the railing, wrapping her hands around a steaming mug.

Since they had come to Dalaran, the dreams had been worse.  Joraalen speculated that the presence of so much magic was probably dredging up things, like raking up the bottom of a millpond.  She wasn’t angry that he didn’t know; it was all esoteric mysticism as far as she was concerned.

And she had learned to adjust to the sleepless nights.  During her peacekeeping days, she had often taken the night shift, finding satisfaction and pleasure in patrolling through empty streets and corridors.  Now she had no patrol, no one to protect... save the priest slumbering inside.  

She breathed deeply of the aromatic steam of her tea, half closing her eyes and letting her mind still, extending her senses to the building around her, listening.  It’s the second bell and all’s well...

Keialaar scratches her nose and gestures up toward her head.  “It’s... it’s hair.  On the rare occasion I must do more than get it out of the way, I pay someone.”  (Her hair is thick and healthy, but... unkempt. She could stand to get a trim and some shaping, and when she puts it up, it’s most often in a messy tail.)

Veriinya likewise gestures up toward her head, with a tiny smile that indicates the viewer can judge for themselves.  Like Keialaar’s, her hair is thick and healthy, woven into a neat and tidy french braid that trails down her back.  Both sisters have the same shade of silvery-white hair; it clearly runs in the family.

In aesthetics, they’re more similar- 

Keialaar’s aesthetic is classical rogue.  Leather everything, knives and weapons secreted all about her person, and a nice big fwooshy cloak when she has the luxury of wearing such a garment.  (IE, she’s not tromping around in the woods)    She minimizes exposed skin- she doesn’t believe in offering opponents unprotected targets - and values function over aesthetic above all.  All of her gear is older and very clearly well-worn.  In the modern world, she’s jeans, a tank top, a flannel shirt and a leather jacket.

Her preferred environment is rustic; comfortable ‘broken in’ furniture that’s sturdy and well-loved (think lodge, where people have been using stuff for a century), with amenities like a wet bar, gaming/stereo system, etc.  Her doorside table is clearly a landing place for... whatever, and hosts a precarious stack of mail (legitimate and junk), keys, leashes, leftover fast food cups and other detritus. She’d have a pack of dogs, so everything would be covered in animal hair.  

Veriinya’s life has changed a great deal in recent years; she’s most comfortable in clothing that was suitable to her life as a Peacekeeper.  She pretty much lives in the Draenei equivalent of athletic gear.  Her clothing is all expensive and well made, but utilitarian.  In the modern world, she would be wearing yoga pants/running tights, a loose tee shirt and a windbreaker.  

14. Favorite sweet food?

Keialaar leans back in her chair, a slow lazy smile spreading across her face.  She lifts a glass where something clinks.  “Does booze count?”

Veriinya laughs in that mildly embarrassed way people have, cutting her eyes to the side.  “Cupcakes. I like them because I can make a single base and get a great deal of variety with toppings and fillings.  And...”  Now she clears her throat, tail curling around to tuck beneath her thigh.  “They’re extremely portable, so I can have them as snacks on the go.”   You’d think a woman that slung a shield around for a living would be less self-conscious about her sweet tooth.

Katerein pauses, pursing her lips in thought.  “There is a type of sweet bun,”  Her hands lift, describing a traditional bun shape in the air.  “I have no idea how to make them, but they’re creamy and soft and just a little sweet... absolutely delicious.”  She shakes her head, loose strands of hair flying around her face.  “My father made the best I’ve ever tasted.  I haven’t had them in years.”

44. Do you flirt?

Keialaar lifts an eyebrow, leaning forward.  “Are you asking academically or for more... personal reasons?”

Veriinya blinks, then shakes her head, a faint flush of blue tinting her cheeks. “I... no. I am not good at... interpersonal interactions of that type.”

Wow that was fast! ;)

IC answers:  

Keia:  “Does a bear shit in the woods?  Of course I have.”

Veriinya:  “No.  I am not in the habit of providing the bugs more surface area upon which to feast.”

OOC:  Yep!  I have gone skinny dipping a few times with friends before I discovered I wasn’t entirely straight, and there were a more than a few nights where ah... romance under the stars was a thing that sounded great. (It was actually awkward and uncomfortable and hoo boy the bugs.) Those experiences led to Veriinya’s attitude. :)

It’s TOTALLY Keialaar, who thinks socks were the coolest thing in the nether.  

She likes to layer them on chilly nights, wearing 3-4 pairs per leg, and has experimented with the optimal fabric/layering to muffle her hooves for silence purposes.  

When she’s feeling particularly silly (and to make Cherynaa laugh), she’ll put mismatched socks on her horns, tug them up over her tail and wear them as mittens.  

She is delighted to get socks as gifts and thinks they’re the finest, most thoughtful thing a person could give her.  (I picture @doriennmydral in particular as gifting her several pairs of mismatched, brightly colored socks.)