#rhymuu

[muuandfriends-blog]

Battle Stats w/ Muu!

This Battle Stat sheet urges you to balance your character’s prowess in battle with weaknesses that could be their downfall. Options are limited to better help you hone in on their specialties. Challenge yourself to follow the limits!

Original designed for the FFXIV universe, modified for WoW universe.

Rules: Bold character’s strengths. Italicize character’s weaknesses. Both can apply to one item. Remember to REPOST.

♦ BEST TRAITS (BOLD 3, ITALICIZE 2)

Strength - Endurance - Defense - Dexterity - Intelligence - Magic - Charisma - Perception - Luck

♦ BATTLE EXPERIENCE (BOLD 1)

Neophyte - Novice - Trained - Experienced - Veteran

♦ PROFICIENCIES (BOLD UP TO 5, ITALICIZE AT LEAST 4)

Martial : Axe - Bow - Dagger - Fist weapon - Gun - Mace - Polearm - Staff - Sword - Shield - Thrown weapon - Wand

Magical :

Arcane - Fire - Ice - Fel - Holy - Shadow - Necromancy - Nature - Blood - Elemental - Voodoo - Chi

♦ RANGE (BOLD 2, ITALICIZE 1)

Close - Mid - Long

♦ SPECIAL ABILITIES

Put Others Before Yourself: Though not a fighter by trade necessarily, the draenei’s best fighting seems to occur during times of high stress and danger, especially if that danger targets friends or comrades. If someone she cares about is in danger, Muu is far more likely to lunge into the fray. When pushed to her limits, she can actually do some damage. She just needs to have a good reason to act. The Best Offense is a Good Defense: Some of the draenei’s best attacks might seem more defensive than offensive.Her ideal combat style defends her from harm while damaging her enemies -- she’s been known to surround herself in Holy Light and then launch a full-body tackle against susceptible foes, such as demons or undead. She also has a tendency to condense Light around herself and then expel it in a large, bright explosion, which tends to be both blinding and painful to unsuspecting enemies. Mercy for the Wicked: The draenei is almost always willing to negotiate peace, even when it seems impossible. Her trusting, peaceful nature can backfire quite easily and leave her susceptible to damage, but when her offers of peaceful resolution work, they work very well. She’s far better at fighting with words than weaponry, and seeks to find peace wherever possible.

♦ WEAKNESSES

Trust is Good, Until You Have a Knife in Your Back:  The light-mender’s peaceful, merciful nature is a curse as well as a blessing, and she finds herself susceptible to betrayal and surprise attacks. It’s easy for someone to agree to her terms of peace and then attack the moment her back is turned, and she rarely suspects a thing. It’s gotten her into trouble at least once, and it will certainly continue to.

Hesitation and Doubt: The draenei’s overthinking is the cause for her inadequacies in combat, and she rarely follows her instincts in a fight. She doubts her ability to be effective, and that in turn makes her less effective, in a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts. She’s her biggest critic, and gets in her own way a lot. Restraint: The draenei’s mercy also holds her back from fighting as fiercely as she might. She finds it very hard to strike a killing blow, and suffers against foes more ruthless than herself. On the rare occasion that she’s forced to use deadly force, she tends to beat herself up over it, even if there was no other option. (( I might need to do this with other OCs! It’s fun. ))

[muuandfriends-blog]

Homecoming

It isn’t like Rhymuu to dwell on things. In fact, if one were to compile a list of a hundred adjectives most descriptive of the hug-centered draenei, words such as ‘bitter’, ‘ruminating’, or ‘obsessive’ wouldn’t make the list at all! It’s curious, then, that she can’t shake the thoughts at the forefront of her mind, can’t quite quiet the unsettling ideas that form and sit there, stubborn and intrusive. They leave a sharp, acrid taste in her mouth, and Muu is all too glad to scribble them out into a letter, which is haphazardly signed with three simple words:

 “With love – Muu.”

 She imagines, for a moment, that the word ‘love’ bears some sort of scathing undertone, as though she doesn’t really mean it. Guilt floods in immediately after the vindictive idea, and she hesitates, fingertips tracing the words upon her paper. Of course she loves him. He’s family, after all. The only family she’s got left – or that she thought she had left, at the very least. In a strange way, her uncle is at least loosely responsible for this, both in the way he randomly appeared as well as the ideas he offered to his niece. A troubling surprise, but not an unwelcome one. She’s quite glad fate brought them together, if she’s honest.

 She sighs, and contemplates leaving the letter for the tenth time, eyes quickly scanning the short message. Too short, perhaps, though the last letter he left was only ten words maximum, including the signature. That memory makes her feel at least slightly less guilty, and, in a moment of decision, she neatly folds the letter, stowing it away into a perfectly-sized envelope. A single, eloquently scribbled word is scribbled in Draenic upon the envelope. “Father.” Formal, cordial, almost cold, and very unlike her usual speech. Maybe, if he’s observant enough, that single word alone will be enough to cause alarm. She kind of doubts it, though. If he can hide the apparent guilt surrounding her mother’s death, surely he can hide discomfort at his daughter’s distress. Another cold, almost scornful thought rises, and is hastily pushed away.

 She hates feeling like this.

 Perhaps what she’s about to do will take some of the bitter edge off of things? She’s thought the plan over multiple times, debated internally with herself on the moral ambiguity of the situation, and, in the end, decided she simply doesn’t care whether it’s the ‘right’ thing to do or not. Another thing not entirely like her, though she doesn’t give it a second thought as she quietly treads, letter in hand, towards her father’s bedroom. Vacant, as it has been for over a week now, since he left on ‘business’ he didn’t care enough to detail to the Light-mender.

 It’s too easy to find the little key carefully tucked into the bedroom dresser, ornate and silver and hidden within the pages of a book almost too faded to read anymore. Her father was never one to read much himself, but this book was never for him. It was a book of draenei fairytales for children, one that was read to her nightly at her urging. A tradition he had inherited from her mother, if his words were to be believed.

 The key is turned over in her hands, and she shifts quietly towards the living room, creeping as though worried he might burst through the door at any moment. Breathe in, breathe out. He won’t be back. She reaches the locked case hanging upon the wall, gaze settling upon the ancient, slightly-chipped blade nestled perfectly inside. The last thing of hers he has – and the only thing Muu really has to remember her by.

 With great care, she takes the sword down from its hanging, perfectly fitting the key in the lock and turning it. For a moment, she fears it won’t open at all, and then it’s there, within her grasp. The blade is warm to the touch, and seems to glow a soft, vivid golden at the Light-wielding draenei’s presence, flaring to life as her fingers meet the metal. It’s comforting, despite her anxiety about the matter at hand, and she’s quiet for a moment, before speaking softly to the sword.

 “… I-if you are watching, wherever you are, please know that I am taking this for you. You… Your memory does not deserve to rest here upon these walls, all but forgotten. I will take care of this, even if I could never use it as well as you apparently did.” she whispers, hesitating for a moment as though half-expecting a response. None comes, however, and the breath she’s holding is exhaled. The sword feels heavy in her hand when she holds it, but not unwieldy. In a strange way, it feels as though it was meant to be.

 The letter is left in place of the sword, with the case locked neatly. After a moment’s hesitation, she sets the case upon the couch, key right atop it. When he eventually comes back, he’ll be able to open it, and read the letter inside. Part of her hopes that he won’t be angry at her for taking the one memento of her mother left. The other part hopes that he’ll be absolutely furious for the same reason. At least then he’d feel something.

 Mother’s sword in hand, Rhymuu eyes the scene for a couple more moments before dipping her head. A quiet apology is murmured in her native tongue, along with a farewell, before she departs the little Exodar home. Something tells her, even if he takes months to return to the house, he’ll still be back sooner than she would. She has other places to be, and the present to live in.

 She won’t be trapped like him.

[muuandfriends-blog]

Reunion

The ex-warrior stares balefully up at the knight he’s come to loathe since sharing his fate, dulled nerves hardly feeling the aches and slight twinges of pain as he’s dragged over stone and earth alike. It should hurt – he remembers such things hurting in the past, when he was still alive. Now, however, he finds it more of an annoyance than a pain. One more embarrassing injustice done purposefully to spite him.

The more functional side of his mouth twists into its typical snarl, and burning blue eyes stare at the longer-dead draenei. His words, as always, are simple, sharp, and spiteful. “You are going to suffer for this. I will make sure of it.”

 “And you will suffer this now.” comes the dull reply, laced with a familiar-sounding bitterness that also sounds almost bored. Geruulos has bitched and wriggled the entire journey here, and Shok’s probably sick of it by now – as though he wasn’t tired of the new knight before this.

 Ruu spits an ungracious reply, fighting the urge to grimace at the blood he can still taste on his tongue. It’s a bitter flavor – not really as sweet as he had anticipated. At least it seems to have quelled the shaking that plagues his entire body, seems to have sated the roaring need churning within his belly. Whatever hunger he had felt is only replaced by dread that grows heavier with each of Shok’s plated hoofsteps.

 A grunt of disdain sounds as he’s suddenly – surprisingly, even – deposited upon the ground, taking a moment to push himself to his own hooves. That grating voice, low and impassionate, speaks behind him.

 “Get up. She is coming.”

 Panic – an emotion unfamiliar to Ruu even in life – flares briefly in the knight’s chest, and he almost stumbles in his efforts to hurry to stand, burning blue eyes shifting across the deadened terrain. A telltale, familiar glow is evident even in the dim dawn as the other draenei approaches, head held high, with a grace only surpassed by her mother’s.

 She looks calmer than Ruu imagined she would – almost impassive. There’s a dark, haunted look in her eyes as she comes to a halt a few yards away, expression scanning her father and his multitude of new scars. A battered old goat somehow carved into an entirely different creature, angrier and more dangerous than he was in life. A being capable of utterly destroying the fragile, perfect little light-mender in front of him, a voice remarks almost snidely. The thought is aggressively banished from his mind, though Muu doesn’t look nearly as frightened as he expected.

 Disgusted, maybe – or perhaps that’s just his interpretation.

 Rhymuu exhales a soft, steady sigh that only has the warnings of a tremble underneath. She offers no greeting or words of endearment, and the cold formality in her tone sounds tangibly forced. “.. You could have told me.” is all she says for a moment, staring up at her father with a huff. The accusing intensity of that gaze reminds him of Hani, and, for a moment, he almost trembles beneath it, stumbling over his words.

 “I—you did not need to know.”

 “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!” she hisses through clenched teeth, tail lashing. He’s almost impressed by the strength in that conviction as she stamps a hoof, continuing insistently. “I could have helped, or come to visit, or at least not spend the past month or two worrying about a father that didn’t even tell me where he’d gone!” she continues. Despite her attempts at remaining steady, Ruu can hear the distress underlying her tone. He can’t find a suitable response to that, and Muu presses on before he can make one up.

 “But, no, I have to hear it from your murderer of all people!” Her gaze flashes accusingly to Shok, and Ruu can’t even feel a twinge of satisfaction as the other knight flinches as though physically struck. His mangled tail twitches uneasily, and, to his surprise, he finds his voice rising in defense of the other knight. “I did not plan on telling you. I assumed you would—“

 “What? You assumed that I couldn’t handle it? I’m not some defenseless child anymore, Father!” comes her swift retort. There’s a fair amount of bitterness there, and Ruu feels a little pang of guilt. He can’t deny the accusation, either, and awkwardly inclines his head. “I could have handled it! I have friends and family that would help if I needed it! B-but you’ve made it all worse by not even saying anything, and now I don’t know if I can still deal with it!” Her voice catches in a panicked little sob, and, despite himself, he shifts forward, one hand outstretched in an effort to awkwardly comfort. She steps away from him – a blow that stings worse than any physical attack. His hand thuds back to his side.

 “N-no. It’s too late for that.” Her voice has lost some of its vindictiveness now, replaced with a dull sadness that chills Ruu deeper than undeath. The female draenei stares, shakes her head, and mumbles almost too softly to hear. “… I-if you cannot trust me with such things, then I will not trust you either.”

 “… What do you mean?” His words are sharper than he means them to be, laced with a growl that sounds almost menacing. The fact that she doesn’t tremble at his tone stirs pride in his gut, mingled with that ever-looming dread.

 “Until you can figure this out – until you can deal with it, and trust me with things – I do not want anything to do with you. I-I will not sit and obsessively worry about someone that doesn’t care for me at all.”

 “… Muu. Muu, I—“

 She just shakes her head, taking another sad step back. “… I’m sorry. B-but this is the way it needs to be.” She’s trembling visibly now, but keeps her head held high, voice forced and steady. She never glances away. When their gaze finally breaks, it’s Ruu that finds himself staring down at the ground.

 If there had been any Light left in his life – something he doubted existed, even on his best days – he can feel it dim and vanish as the light-mender’s steps quiet and eventually disappear. When he looks up, there’s only the distant glint of the sun, nearly obscured by clouds. Geruulos feels nothing but emptiness as he turns back to stare at Shok, expecting to see some sort of twisted satisfaction in the other knight’s visage. But he only remains silent, expression unreadable.

 Ruu draws in a deep, unnecessary breath, trudging unsteadily back towards the other knight. Shok seems tense, as though expecting him to lash out, but Ruu only growls, shooting him a dark look. “… I’m going to hunt. Care to join me?” ((Geruulos and Rhymuu, featuring Shok’rakar ( @phantomarmor ). ))