Reading Preferences

Reading Preferences

Reading Preferences - Brynhorn Fiske

BOLD genres your character reads. Italicize genres your character occasionally peruses. Strikethrough if they absolutely won’t touch it.

art | biography | business | chick lit | children’s | classics | comics | contemporary | cookbooks | crime | fantasy | fiction | gay and lesbian | graphic novels | historical fiction | history | horror | humor and comedy | memoir | music | mystery | nonfiction | paranormal | philosophy | poetry | psychology | religion | romance | science | science fiction | self help | suspense | spirituality | sports | thriller | travel | young adult | warfare

Bryn didn't learn to read until after he left Ala Mihgo. And even then, it was mostly so he could read missives from the Maelstrom officers, or a map. Most of his reading is practical, with a purpose, but he later in life had someone convince him to read more enjoyable books. Even if his enjoyment comes from puzzling out a mystery before the writer lays it all out.

Reading Preferences - Kaleh'a Quickdraw

art | biography | business | chick lit | children’s | classics | comics | contemporary | cookbooks | crime | fantasy | fiction | gay and lesbian | graphic novels | historical fiction | history | horror | humor and comedy | memoir | music | mystery | nonfiction | paranormal | philosophy | poetry | psychology | religion | romance | science | science fiction | self help | suspense | spirituality | sports | thriller | travel | young adult | warfare

Kaleh'a is...well he enjoys the simple pleasures of life. Reading is something he picked up at a young age and ran with. He would read just about anything he could get his hands on! Except for the stuffy old history or biography stuff. That bored him to tears. So while he is well read, he might not be well read in what you would expect...won't stop him from talking your ear off about it!

Tagged by: @mimble-sparklepudding

Tagging: @voidtouched-blue @the-crimson-rose @the-sycophant @nhaneh @luck-and-larceny @13th-dragon-prince

Day 14 - Telling

"What gave it away?"

Bryn sat flat on the snow under him, the black and detailed helmet of the Garlean Empire resting next to his black armored legs, so stark compared to the white forest around him. He shared the embankment he was hidden behind with an archer, dressed head to toe in speckled white clothes, pants, boots, long sleeve shirt, jacket, even his hat, all built to blend into their environment and keep them hidden. And given how quickly the blonde Miqo'te had shucked the hat off, he did not like the chosen attire.

"This has to be the ugliest outfit I have ever worn. Period. The end." Kaleh'a grumbled a bit more, before he glanced at Bryn and lifted an eyebrow, registering the question a bit late as he hummed. "Gave what away? You've lost me."

Bryn grunted, silent for a moment, as he carefully checked over his armor. Was something out of place? But the entire thing was just as non-descript and intricate as any common foot soldier of the Garlean Empire, a perfect disguise for his infiltration of a Castrum. Blend in, get in, gather info, get out. And as a Hyur from Ala Mihgo, conscripts from his homeland were common enough. After checking all was in order, he asked, "How did you know it was me?"

"Ohhh! That? That was easy," and the message runner pulled out a piece of smoked lamb jerky and bit into it, leaving the ex-soldier flabbergasted as the Miqo'te seemed perfectly fine with not elaborating. Bryn lasted all of a minute before exasperatedly blurting out again.

"But how?"

Kaleh'a paused his snack fest, and gave the older man a look, shaking his head and shrugging. "Well, first, the mask doesn't really hide your eyes. The silver bleeds through, kinda cool actually. Top that off with your scent - which, by the Twelve do they let you bathe? - and your gait, it was all very telling."

Bryn fell silent for a long moment, and then softly muttered, "I have a tell."

"Huh? No! Not at all!" Kaleh'a laughed, finishing off his jerky and pulling out a letter and handing it to Bryn. "Look, I'm a message runner. I have to recognize who I'm delivering to by sight, sound, voice and scent. Sometimes with just one of those things. Throwing armor over your entire body, hiding your face, and changing the way you talk isn't going to throw me off. Anyone else? Sure! Now, hurry up and take this letter so I can get out of this frozen wasteland."

Bryn snatched the letter from the Miqo'te's hand, his short, nearly buzzed hair starting to ice with his helmet off already, and grumbled some more about Kaleh'a's deductions, reading the letter carefully...and scowling. "Should I ret-"

"They both verbally and explicitly told me to not let you return, and that it was mentioned in the letter." The archer rolled his eyes at the undercover man, and snatched the letter back, shredding it and scattering it in the snow. "Alright, now, I'm gone! Good luck!"

And before Bryn could object, the wily Miqo'te was gone, swinging up into a tree and darting along its branches, leaving Bryn to mutter into the silence, "I have a tell..."

Day 23 - On Cloud Nine

[Minor Heavensward Spoilers]

Kaleh'a was in awe.

Complete and utter awe.

"Wait so...the Moogles have just lived up here?!" The Miqo'te did a slow turn, taking in the Moghome as Moogles floated by. When the request to update the Moogles in the sky came in from the Scions, he had jumped at the opportunity. The break in fighting small dragons in the bitter cold of Ishgard was a welcome one, and the ride up into the literal clouds was...stunning. Mogleo floated beside him, the little puff ball on his head wiggling back and forth, and occasionally making a little "kupo" noise as they watched Kaleh'a take in the sights.

"Amazing, isn't it, kupo!" The Moogle flitted about on his tiny wings, bobbing up and down with his tiny rogue hat on his head. " Chieftain Moglin keeps us safe, kupo, and we stay safe! ...mostly." He did a little spin, and then bombed his head. "Sorry for pointing my knife at you! Strangers are dangerous, kupo!"

"Heh, I've had worse," Kaleh'a chuckled out, and shrugged, before he rummaged into his pocket and pulled out a letter. "But, the Scions did ask me to give this to your Chieftain."

"Chieftain Moglin, kupo! He won't let you see him, kupo." His wings wilted, and Mogleo floated sadly around Kaleh'a. "He's very suspicious, very safe! Kupo!"

Kaleh'a frowned, and tapped the letter against his hand, humming thoughtfully. "I get it, with the dragons and everything, better safe than sorry. But I thought he trusted the Scions?"

"He trusts that friendly adventurer, kupo! Others...less so." The little rogue floated around the Miqo'te again, and then paused, and turned to him. "I could give him the letter, kupo! He'd trust me! Kupo-kupo!"

Kaleh'a had to pause for a moment, the idea of handing off the letter to someone else not exactly his style. He always preferred to hand it off from his hand to the recipient, but for this specific case... "Alright, that would work. It's just a general report of how things are going. I'll watch you deliver it, and then do you mind if I go over to the landing? Something about looking over the clouds..."

Mogleo spun on the spot, and let out a happy "Kupo!", before grabbing the letter and darting off towards the Chieftain, leaving Kaleh'a standing there mildly stunned and then grinning. He shook his head, chuckling, and headed for the landing, and the steep drop towards the ground below.

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Staring down into the passing clouds, he couldn't help feeling that awe again. Some drifted up, kissed the edge of the land, and he swung his feet through the cool fluff, smiling. It was...like literally walking on cloud nine, and it gave him this giddy feeling of being a kid again. Of exploring, wide eyed and bushy tailed, finding something new. And this was so uniquely different that it sparked all of that again.

His ears flicked in the cool breeze, and his tail dipped over the age, trailing in the clouds before he heard the bobbing sounds of an approaching Moogle, and he turned his head to see -

"Chieftain Moglin!" He leapt up, brushing of his hands, and giving a short salute then bow, spluttering out to the larger Moogle, "I wasn't expecting to hear from you personally!"

"Kupo, consider yourself lucky!" The Chieftain crowed, Mogleo floating beside him. "Today, you speak with me, kupo! Your letter mentioned you by name, and said you were trustworthy, kupo, so I trust you!"

"I...well thank you," Kaleh'a murmured, bowing again, which the Chieftain seemed to appreciate. "Was there specific you wanted to talk about?"

"Yes! Kupo! We, Moogles, wish to offer our aid to fight the dragons! And ask you to deliver that message to the friendly adventurer! Kupo-kupo!"

He grinned, and nodded, his tail flicking excitedly. "Of course! I can relay that message! I guess that means we might fight together, huh Mogleo?"

Mogleo let out an excited little twirl, waving his dagger as if fending off an attack, and Kaleh'a laughed. He liked this place, perhaps he would have to come back.

voidtouched-blue--[Previous]

Gods, I hope they invent a less uncomfortable method of travel, she thought. Steadying herself with a short walk to the railing in the Gridania Aetheryte plaza, she took a few deep breaths as she smoothed back her ears. She clasped her staff to its holster on her back using a small gesture of aether to fasten it quickly. Hearing the somewhat familiar padding of footsteps approach from behind her, she spoke without looking. "I'm all right. I just don't travel much by Aetheryte."

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

He couldn't help the mock gasp that left his lips at her admission of her own wayward tail, his hand covering his lips as he gave her a playful, horrified look. "Not the patients! And here I thought all healers took an oath to do no harm!" He laughed, letting the facade fall to reveal his teasing grin, his hands swinging amicably by his sides as his tail responded in kind, flicking like hers as he regarded the strange, striped appendage. Yes, Miqo'te, but he had yet to see one striped. Of course, staring at another's tail was not the most proper of things to do, so he was quick to avert his gaze before she noticed, his turquoise eyes flicking up to her face just in time to catch her blush.

A cute thing, hidden by little shakes of her head, but nothing could hide her small smile, and he hummed thoughtfully at her words, mulling them over as he walked along beside her, tilting his head after a moment and murmuring, "'What is required of me...'" It was an interesting way to view the world, he supposed. Far different from his own. Albeit in ways similar. He let the moon guide his steps, and acted as he himself wanted, not from a higher calling, or at least not yet. Maybe one day he would, and he would understand what she meant by those words, or maybe he already did know, with his penchant to help those around him. But he couldn't get this nagging feeling out of his head that it was an almost dour way to look at life.

The short hop back to Gridania proper was uneventful for the blonde Miqo'te, the little tingle of aether after his travel making him shiver and grin, only to turn with some concern as he realized his blue haired companion was not doing quite as well as he was. He approached her, his tail nervously flicking as she leaned against the rail and clasped staff to her back, his hand unwittingly travelling to her shoulder as he gently placed it there, his eyes full of worry as he leaned out of the balcony to take a look at her face, her words confirming what he saw. "Cyra, I didn't know you suffered from Aetheryte sickness! I would have hired a Chocobo Porter instead!"

And he really would have, to spare her the feeling of sickness, and himself from having to see her struggle so, his eyes softening. "To think you put up with travelling there and back without so much as a complaint... Come on then, first round is on me! As apology for not noticing sooner. And I can handle the report if you aren't up to it." He didn't particularly want to, not with the reception he had received earlier, but he truly wasn't sure if she could make it more than five steps without keeling over. If there was one thing he knew, you took care of the healer! Besides, he could handle a few suspicious guards.

Day 19 - Taken

"Please, anyone please help! She's gone missing! Please!"

It wasn't everyday that the Drowning Wench was interrupted by begging parents holding out a drawing of their daughter, a young thing likely no more than ten or twelve, desperation written on their faces as the plied adventurers and ship-hands for help. And for the most part, they were ignored.

Bryn sipped his drink as he watched the family make their rounds, the thirty-something grizzled man sitting alone without food or drink, currently in-between odd jobs and with so little gil in his pocket he was more or less ready to jump on anything the tavern could offer. He just had one small problem.

With his torn coat, harsh silver eyes, and unkempt beard, he did not exactly look approachable. And it was more or less confirmed when the two parents glanced his way, stared with wide eyes, and then shuffled on to the next patron, who gave her much of the same answer as everyone else. "As the Maelstrom." "Go to the Yellowjackets."

"We tried!" the father yelled, his outburst drawing more attention as he gripped the paper of his daughter's face tighter, crinkling the paper as tears streamed down his cheeks. "They said she ran away! That she isn't missing! But we know our daughter! We know her!"

"She's just a child..." the mother gasped out, somehow holding it together better than her husband, the two Hyur making a pitiful scene standing there as Bryn slowly rose, and strode towards them. For a moment, they didn't even realize the shadow of the man behind them was there, but when they turned to the six foot, black haired ex-soldier, they visibly cowered away. But Bryn did not step back.

"Let me see," he rumbled out, holding out his hand for the drawing, and hesitantly, as if doubtful of the help standing right in front of them, the mother slowly held out the drawing, and Bryn took it carefully. For a long moment, he studied the page, the face of the young girl, noting her distinguishing features, looking up and asking, "Her eyes, what color? And her hair."

"B-brown... both of them."

"Like tree bark," the mother added, a glance shared between her and her husband, as Bryn noted the mother's similar hair color, and the father's eyes.

"Understood." He handed back the drawing, turned on his heel, shouldered his rifle, and left, without a word beyond that simple declaration, leaving the family confused, and more than a little bit worried. At least, until the man they had stopped hounding when Bryn approached chuckled.

"It's your lucky day, the Silver Wolf has a nose for these things. Trust me, he will find her."

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They sat, and waited, for what felt like days, but was hours. The two distraught parents only grew more and more worried as the man didn't return, as no updates were forthcoming, and as tavern goers got up and left. It was almost closing time, the sun outside setting, and to them, it felt like they were no closer to finding their daughter. At least, until they heard the heavy thud of boots on planks, and Bryn strode through the door with their daughter cradled in his arms.

The scream of terror from the mother was understandable, her daughter appearing pale, limp, and lifeless in the hardy man's arms, but the scream roused her, and she opened a pair of bright brown eyes to look at her mom and dad, and weakly reach for them. They leapt up, sprinting to Bryn and taking their daughter from his arms, hugging her tight as she did the same in return, tears all around as Bryn stood silently by, waiting for the moment to end as he set his rifle down against the back of a chair.

It was the father who broke first, looking up at the silver eyed marksman and gasping out, "Thank you! Thank you sir! Where did you find her?!"

"The Sahagin spawning grounds," he rumbled out, and gestured towards the girl's wet clothes. "She was tied up, likely to be a thrall for their god should he be summoned. You're lucky she didn't become food...or worse." He saw the father shiver, but he still stood straight, looked Bryn in the eyes.

"Anything, name it. It is yours, for saving her!"

"Then a meal and a drink will suffice," the soldier replied firmly, gesturing towards the tavern keep. "They know my favorites, and it won't cost you more than 50 gil." The man looked floored, the price, in his eyes, likely too low. But for Bryn, in that moment, it was all he needed to survive, to make it another day.

He saw the young girl look up at him, with both thanks, and another emotion. She had seen him throw himself at the Sahagin and tear through them to get to her. She had seen the recklessness of how he fought. And he got the feeling, that somehow, she knew. That pushing forward one day at a time was all he could do in that moment. Anymore...was too much for the storied man.

At least tonight, he wouldn't go hungry, and she would be safe and sound in her home.

Yeah, they Bi,

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