Ophelia Fenn

Take up arms in mortal wars;
beg the unseeing Twelve for small mercies;
learn to love the taste of grave-dirt in your mouth.
There's no such thing as the good fight.

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She is skinned knees and bruises, all awkward adolescent limbs; too tall already, too thin. Dry-bitten lips. At her bare feet, a wooden bowl as empty as her stomach. She is not alone in this hardship. Locals call it 'beggar's alley', the dust-thick road leading into town. Alongside the slums hastily constructed outside the walls of Ul'dah, it is a physical reminder from the powers-that-be: you do not belong here. We do not want you.Nearby, a mother berates her son for parting with a few coins. Reminds him that they all have hardships; remember how they had to fire his astrology tutor? The city has done more than enough for the refugees.Their voices grow distant as they move on. Midday sunlight strikes the enormous star rubies dangling from the noblewoman's ears. They glisten like fresh blood.

She is sweat-slick and sticky with gore that -- mostly -- does not belong to her. Beneath her, a man pinned. Adrenaline singes her veins, even as the ghost of reason haunts the back of her memory. "Yield," she says. "Yield, and I will show mercy."He laughs with rose-tinted teeth. The sound is sickly humourless. "Die at your hand, or return to my commander and face execution for cowardice? How merciful, savage."Desperation creeps into her wild eyes. She feels the muscles of his thighs jerk; feels the futile fight of his body, at odds with the resignation of his mind. "The both of us, pawns. Me, a foot-soldier. You, trying to survive. Neither of us move the pieces, nor see the board. You know that, right?"He bucks up, tries to throw her balance off. Reaches for the dagger she knows his kind keep in their boots. With a wretched cry, she drives the point of her lance down.

She is running. Perhaps she could assign the action a fancier name -- defecting -- but she's not in the habit of lying. Not to herself, anyway. It is hard to feel anything but elation with the sea-wind combing her hair, and the blue horizon yawning endlessly before her. This is what freedom must feel like. This is the growth of her clipped flight-feathers.The boat is crowded. Everything she owns is bundled neatly by her feet. Her saved soldier's salary is heavy at her hip. Tonight, she will sleep in a threadbare hammock, stacked with strangers in the cargo hold.Tomorrow, she will see Doma for the first time in her life. Ala Mhigo is at her back, along with all the greed and loss and suffering she has unwillingly shouldered for the elite of Ul'dah.Never again will she be puppeteered.

...NAME.... Ophelia Fenn....GENDER.... Cis Female....RACE.... Hyur; Highlander....AGE.... Twenty-Nine....PREF.... Bisexual....MARITAL.... Single....JOBS.... Merchant/Smuggler; 'Alchemist'...HEIGHT.... 6 fulms, 1 ilm....WEIGHT.... 180 ponze; muscular....HAIR.... Naturally red; changes fairly frequently....EYES.... Very pale green....VOICE.... Husky, slightly accented....SCENT.... Fresh citrus blend with a spicy, warm amber depth....ALIGN.... Chaotic neutral....FAITH.... All in herself....DRESS.... Favours dark shades and styles. Likes gold jewellery....OTHER.... Often wears a pair of glamoured dragon horns.

A closer glance

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...LIKES.... Getting paid. Passionate people. Expensive liquor. Smoking. Experimental alchemy. The thrill of a chase. Cold weather. Training with her lance. Sweet foods. Jewellery. Being complimented....VIRTUES.... Charismatic. Witty. Brave. Skilled. Clever. Loyal. Focused. Observant. Resourceful. Confident....INVENTORY.... A small paper pad and ink pen. A pouch with compartments for gil and alchemic ingredients. Lipstick and perfume. A sharp knife, sheathed and concealed....PERSONALITY.... Despite her less than virtuous occupation, Ophelia is a thoroughly personable woman. Her sense of humour walks the line between deadpan and sarcastic, and she's generally friendly, tending to have an 'up for anything' attitude....LEGITIMATE.... A dossier of her shopfront goods can be found here. This is available to most individuals. (WIP)

...DISLIKES.... Incompetence. Failure. Very hot weather. Unwanted attention. Poor craftsmanship. Overt displays of wealth. Politics. Hangovers. Being called out on a lie. A light gilpurse. The devout....VICES.... Crude. Destructive. Lustful. Faithless. Opportunistic. Vain. Predatory. Dishonest. Calculating....WEAPONS.... If the occasion calls for it, Ophelia will battle with her lance. If she does not have it with her, it is likely she is carrying something far more discreet and just as lethal, probably in injectable form....QUIRKS.... Tends to use affectionate nicknames, even for strangers (sweet, dearest, etc). Will deflect or shut down conversations about her horns. Can handle her liquor (usually). Has an excellent poker face....SUSPICIOUS.... A dossier of her less savoury wares can be found here. This is available to those she trusts. (WIP)

Hooks

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...CLIENTS.... Perhaps you've been directed to Ophelia by someone, or perhaps you stumble across her business by chance. Either way, she's usually happy to talk shop -- once she's ascertained your character, of course....FRIENDS.... Work is hard, drinking is easier. Ophelia loves to go out on the town, or visit a cosy inn when she has time. New friends that enjoy dancing or ale are always needed....COLLEAGUES.... Fellow scientists -- however they choose to utilise their business -- make great contacts. Ophelia loves to learn, and she tends to get along well with alchemy enthusiasts.

...RIVALS.... You got a problem with what she does? Are you competition? Unless you have designs to take her down, it's unlikely she gives a good godsdamn. Ophelia doesn't like having enemies, but she's never going to be for everyone....LOVERS.... What's the point of having money and success if you can't share it with someone? Ophelia is not necessarily actively searching for love, but she hasn't discounted the idea, either....HISTORY.... If your character fought in the Ala Mhigan resistance -- particularly in the lower ranks -- there is a chance they may know one another from the war. She's not going to enjoy these conversations, though!

01
Do not confuse IC and OOC. I roleplay as a character, not as myself. Similarly, please remember that IC actions have IC consequences. 02
If you wish to engage my character in walk-up roleplay, I'd appreciate a heads-up first. I welcome tells, both conversations and questions. I am friendly!

03
I am over 21, and sometimes roleplay mature themes (in appropriate areas). I expect the same of you. If I do engage in ERP, it will likely be plot-driven, and at my discretion. I do not ERP with Lalafell characters, ever. 04
I am capable of quick-fire paragraph responses. However, I am happy to keep things shorter, too. I generally match my partner or group's speed.

05
Whilst I am not new to roleplay, I am still fairly new to this MMO (about six months in). Please bear with me if my lore knowledge isn't complete! 06
I don't tolerate god-moders, OOC disrespect, misogyny, or drama. I have no qualms about setting boundaries or blocking. Ultimately, I am here to have fun; I hope you are, too.