#niqmepa

[twinflamable]

[twinflamable]

A little night mining in Thanalan. I love the skies out here.

[twinflamable]

LFRP: Niqmepa Desfosse

(singal boosts appreciated, btw.)

the basics ––– –

AGE: 38

RACE: Duskwight

GENDER: Female

SEXUALITY: Bisexual

STATUS: Single

physical appearance ––– –

HAIR: Naturally purple. Tipped in red and decorated with metal rings crafted from coins or other baubles.

EYES: Pink, often mistaken for red.

HEIGHT: 6′3′’

BUILD: Lithe but muscular. A laborer’s build.

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Tattoo over left eye.

COMMON ACCESSORIES: A long red tapestry, as thin as a sash, that can be worn but is more frequently tucked away.

personal ––– –

PROFESSION: Acquisitions and sales. Sometimes this means finding rare items for clients. Sometimes it means turning a store-room into a junk shop. She’s registered with the adventurer’s guild, so sometimes this means grabbing a leveplate and a pickaxe and doing the hard work.

HOBBIES: Maintains a “written” record of her genealogy and some of her clan’s history in the form of of a woven tapestry of significant length. She is often busy at work creating a second one. Journals meticulously.

LANGUAGES: Eorzean.

RESIDENCE: Travels. Keeps store-houses in some places.

BIRTHPLACE: A network of caverns beneath the Shroud, not directly connected to Gelmorra.

RELIGION: Loosely holds to the Twelve. Practices her clan’s traditional augury and lets omens guide her travels and choices. She reveres the earth and the forces that shape it, a kind of individualistic geomancy.

FEARS: That she might, even after so much life, still unknowingly embody the wicked philosophies that caused the downfall of her clan, or that these things might be an inescapable outcome of her beliefs and experiences.

relationships ––– -

SPOUSE: None.

CHILDREN: None.

PARENTS: Deceased.

SIBLINGS: Deceased.

OTHER RELATIVES: Deceased.

PETS: Xiajhi, a lesser panda.

traits ––– -

extroverted / introverted / in between.

disorganized / organized / in between.

close minded / open-minded / in between.

calm / anxious / in between.

disagreeable / agreeable / in between.

cautious / reckless / in between.

patient / impatient / in between.

outspoken / reserved / in between.

leader / follower / in between. (indepent, tbh)

empathetic / unemphatic / in between.

optimistic / pessimistic / in between.

traditional / modern / in between.

hard-working / lazy / in between.

cultured / un-cultured / in between. (what does this mean?)

loyal / disloyal / unknown / in between.

faithful / unfaithful / unknown / in between.

additional information ––– –

SMOKING HABIT: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

DRUGS: never / sometimes /frequently / to excess.

ALCOHOL: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

RP Hooks:

You need an item acquired. Do you want an artifact or rare material and need someone to obtain it, but you can’t afford a Champion Of The Eorzea or some Legendary Artificer Slash Archaeomancer? Niqmepa is a working class laborer who gets the job done, digging up potsherds, ore, or rare relics if she’s got enough clues to go on. She frequently answers job listings of this kind, or gets referrals from past clients who know that she’s reliable and doesn’t charge more than she’s worth.

You see a sale and hope to find a good deal. When Niqmepa isn’t employed by clients, she’s maintaining a general inventory of useful items. Most of her income comes from trade goods that she either obtains or buys for resale, but a byproduct of this is a bunch of junk goods that she has to liquidate somehow. Her store rooms can be converted into junk shops when they get too full, and you might find some nice stuff in there if you go looking.

You meet on the road. Niqmepa is the kind of person who would offer to share her fire with a fellow traveler, and maybe even some food if they needed it. She might also ask another to share their fire, if it was late and she decided to stop. This is, of course, assuming you don’t have any bad omens hanging over your head. You don’t, do you? She’s unlikely to travel outside of Eorzea, though.

You have a bad feeling about Niqmepa. If you’re sensitive to aether, particularly if you’re wary about voidsent or curses, this might be the case. Oh, it’s not like she’s possessed or a demon in disgusie -- or, if she is, it’s concealed better than most -- and there’s no darkness or dramatic aura pouring out of her. But something feels off in her aether, something subtle, that you can’t really place. Maybe it’s a curse that’s missed its mark, or maybe something that happened a very long time ago and left its sign. Or it could be something more troubling that is deeply, carefully concealed. It would be impossible to say without investigating.

Or whatever your character’s hook is. I’m okay with bringing her to you if you can’t decide how to come to her.

OOC Notes:

I’d prefer to rp in chat, PMs, discord, Skype, whatever. I’m unlikely to participate in in-game rp at the moment, for reasons. I’d be game for RPing on a forum if you have a site you rp on. Otherwise I’m willing to go to your preferred chat service. Or we can just rp here on tumblr; that’s good too. Niqmepa’s on Coeurl, if that matters.

I’m not always the fastest RPer. I don’t require that you be fast either. My preferred pace for RP is that which is comfortable for all involved.

I get anxious sometimes. This can make it hard to begin. Given time, I’ll work my way through it. I might ask for your patience if I’m having trouble.

I’m not against romance in RP, but I prefer to rp that kind of thing with RPers I’ve known for a long time. It’s not like I never make exceptions, but I probably won’t be making any right now.

[twinflamable]

The Shape of the Stone

Niqmepa - (from my Duskwight prompts)

Gelmorra had been carved passageways, pillars and bricks, she had been told. The Desfosse caverns had not been carved by hands. They had been carved by the movement of the world, by wind, water, and time. They had been carved by Oschon, Thaliak, and Althyk, long before Clan Desfosse had come to inhabit them. They had been carved deliberately, to give the clan a place to live, a place to die, a place to thrive as a family and eventually to go extinct. The river cut through the center of the caverns, in high rooms, through slim tunnels, to low rooms, until finally coming to the funerary cavern where it poured into the endless pit. There, the water left the world.

There, they committed their dead, regardless of how they died.

When Niqmepa’s older brother died, they did not discuss why. This meant that her father had killed him in retribution for some crime, and the entire event was better not spoken of. Deaths like this had happened enough times that Niqmepa, still not yet an adult, fully understood and accepted this. Her brother had been an unhappy and ill-behaved person his entire life. He had left the Clan for Gridania, which was not permitted. He should’ve remembered that all the children of Desfosse ended their worldly journey in the same place, in the waters that had been prepared for them by the Twelve.

Clan Desfosse would gather in the funerary cavern that evening, after the sun had gone down and the highest caves were as dark as the lowest caves. But first the Elder spoke in the augury cavern, highest room their home, to those who knew how to read omens. Niqmepa was among them. By now, she was practically a young woman, well-versed in augury, the languages of the earth. When her grandfather showed them the omens that had been fulfilled by her brother’s death – his old hands pointed to stones in the ceiling, where gray light shone through cracks on the unmelting ice of quartz – she understood and did not dispute them. Her brother should’ve seen these signs himself. Why hadn’t her brother heeded the omens? The quartz in the ceiling took on an internal brown and gray shine, refracting stars above the Shroud, here visible only as vague imperfections in the complete dark. The omens had been in the stones for ages, waiting to be seen and interpreted. Had her brother been trying to flee from them?

From the augury cavern they walked down to the where the river flowed through the clan’s commons, following it to the narrow hallways it carved. These tunnels were alive with the rushing sound of swift water, walls damp, air cold. Here, when it rained, the water swelled and carved out recesses in the walls. They were thin, deep open cavities at irregular intervals. When they carried light this far, as they did now in the form of candles, these recesses looked to Niqmepa like a fish’s gills. She could imagine that when the water swelled, the stone breathed.

Her mother grabbed her and pulled her into one of the recesses, where they were close in the dark. Their family moved past without pause, and in a moment Niqmepa and her mother were invisible. Her mother held her close and whispered something about warmth in the cold. Niqmepa asked if her mother was sad because of her loss, the omens, the funeral, the shape of the stone that had promised it. But her mother did not begrudge the stone its shape; it had given them these recesses to hide in, to be close and concealed inside.

Niqmepa found that she, however, did begrudge the Twelve the shapes of the stone, both in the augury cavern and here in these recesses. The Twelve had carved these places for her mother to pin her, to demand proof of affection, and in Niqmepa’s heart it was quickly becoming hatred. Yes, she hated her mother, and these stones, and this river. At least, in that moment, she did.

When Niqmepa finally arrived in the funerary cavern, they had place her brother’s pallid body on the water, holding him in place by his shoulders, about to release him. Niqmepa looked at where the candlelight shone on the wet ceiling, the veins of quartz, and the moss that shivered like fur. Here, Niqmepa saw omens that spoke of her own death, though she did not know how to read them beyond that. There was a dark quality inside the quartz. There were constant imperfections. Did her grandfather know how to read these omens, or had they not yet been revealed to him? Niqmepa did not understand the specifics, the omens vague like smudged writing, but she decided that it must be a promise that she would die young.

She looked down at her brother as they released him. The water swept him through the cavern and he fell into the maw of the earth, the black pit beneath which was nothing. He would fall forever now, out of the world, into the gentle dark beyond.

Niqmepa did not ask her Grandfather to help her read the omens in this room. She did not look at them again. She left the room as quickly as she could, hurrying to the higher caverns ahead of her family and finding a dark place to conceal herself. The Twelve had prepared it all long before they’d come: the omens, the water and the pit, the dark recesses, even this place where she could hide from it all. Niqmepa wished she had never learned to read omens.

[twinflamable]

Am I not as cold as you expected? That’s something I can work on.

[twinflamable]

Feeling fashionable. These outfits are much more likely to be IC. :)

[twinflamable]

Just running around.

[twinflamable]

Neither of us are out of place in a cavern, it turns out.