Final Fantasy XII Dressing Room

[Fran sits beneath a tree, hair blowing in the gentle breeze, her ears drooped a little, twitching every so often. A half empty bottle of Bhujerban Madhu at her side as she makes arrows, humming a Vieran tune as she works.]

The wind’s whisper is familiar yet not. It carries with it the scent of those I have loved, yet it is not quite the same. I see many Balthiers, yet none are the one I call my own. I do so miss the scent of sex, sweat and serpent wine upon his skin, with the subtle hints of engine oil and gunpowder – it lingers in the air but… is different.

What of my Balthier? Is he well? And what of Krja? I do so miss the little one. And of course Nono and Gero too.

Excuse me, would anyone like to hire a Chocobo? Only 600 Gil a ride, kupo!

I send my most humble salutations to you all as I write this letter.
As of late, I've repeatedly heard whisperings of some fiend wandering through Ozmone and the depths of Sochen's hidden crevices.
Curiosity has gotten the best of me. I send out this invitation to you, my friend, to join me in one fortnight at Tchita, by sundown. We shall set off then.

Do write back.

-B

[ooc: it's spring break. i'm bored. play wif me.
also, might i mention this letter is written post-game.]

Ah... it appears that I have lost my way, although I cannot say how this came to pass. But if I am certain of anything, it is that I do not recognize this as Reial. Might this be a new world? ... no, such things do not exist.

Might I ask where I am at present?

Al-Cid... where are you?

The winds...they are still.

[A shadowy silhouette of a rather tall woman could be seen gazing up towards the sky. It's easy to tell that she is a Viera because of the long ears that tower above her head. She stands there for a few minutes before glancing up the street in search of anyone who could be wandering about.]

Dalmasca, it is not...[She quietly whispered to herself as she began to walk, her heels clicking loudly against the pavement]

Ivalice, it is not. No sound, no movement, the world is empty but it is not.

This does not bode well...

A dreamless and nameless world that welcomes all from Ivalice. A world where both queens and kings both stand among thieves and rogues. A world where the dead can walk again and where the Gods tread lightly among mortal men.

I cannot say what this world is for I do not know...I am puzzled.

Hm? This - this is ridiculous. I was well aware of the complications of that school, but I was hardly aware that doors just lead to random places. I don't suppose it could be those demons at work, again, meddling, but perhaps. After all, just last weekend (it was last weekend, wasn't it?) I was a raccoon. I should be more than aware of these occurrences by now. Lord Larsa was not exaggerating about such matters.

...And this apparently ratifies Al-Cid's decision. I put my faith in him when he suggested it, but that does not mean I was expecting it to be this complex.

I must find the way back to my room, at once. Imagine if this is the one night they choose to run some kind of check.

They really must stop meddling with the mortal plane. Rips and tears such as this can hardly be unexpected.

[ ooc | don't recognize her? not surprised. here's body-bound emet-selch, scion of light and angel of truth. brief info on her can be found here, but the long and short of it is she's absolutely incapable of telling lies. ]

The Gods do not amuse me with their games. This is not the treasure I had hoped to find. This is no treasure at all. I do believe I am quite lost.