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catnip-smuggler-radio · 4 years

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Have you ever made any characters that you really liked but never went anywhere?

You bet your sweet butt I have!Shoot. So, I’ve been rping in Realm for like six years. First time ever rping in really any medium actually. My first character was a Garlean bomb maker but after about two years and major life events both IC and OOC, I lost my ability to headspace him well and tried to make a new ‘main’. What followed was about a year of me flailing around as I tried to find a new character I wanted to play. I made around half a dozen or so during this time. Three are throw aways not worth mentioning now but I did make three good ones that sort of failed for different reasons.First major character I was considering sticking with was a Bounty and Void Hunter named Hojo’to Zuginoch. He was alright but for some reason I just never clicked with him despite him being a solid character. However his creation lead to ultimately my most important creation:The Voidspawn Rhyme was created to be Hojo’s main antagonist. Rhyme has been a staple of my plots for awhile now but since I couldn’t have Rhyme as a character in game, I had to make some that could wield him and thus we get our third character: the mad miqo’te necromancer named Crate.Here, we find my most important character during this transition.Crate became a linchpin between all my old characters as well as a sort of prototype for Tray.Crate was, is actually since he’s technically still alive, a short, blonde, egotistical maniac that partied hard and enjoyed creating chaos for the sheer sake of fun. He was actually a delight to play and had some fairly serious play and even several player antagonists. He even has one of my all time favorite posts I ever did on the RPC. Ill post that below if anyone is interested.He was a stinker.And there in dwelt the problem.He had no balance.To play him properly meant, well, I had to be willing to literally find moments to cause chaos constantly. And a few times, when in the middle of a scene, Crate would de-rail the scene by acting in character and causing problems. Like one time he started a bar brawl by harassing someone’s husband and basically ruining a bar night an FC was hosting as it devolved into like ten people fighting. Memorable and funny but impacted others RP and thus it was hard to establish connections with him outside of the antagonist sort of relations. I stuck with Crate the longest during that year of transition but eventually realized I needed a more toned down version of his antics and eventually brought some of those -party boy- traits to Tray, but on a more balanced scaleSo, Crate was a very important experiment for me. He taught me the need for balance in my characters, and that being true to a character is awesome but not always good for a -main- since you want a main you can get rp with. LOL.He hold a special place in my heart.Now, as promised, here is the copy/paste of that scene. BUT I’ll put it below a cut since this is long enough as is. ((Thank you very much for the ask!))

The restaurant had once been a high and well to do establishment, nestled comfortably between massive building that towered up to join the rest of the Limsa skyline. But that was no more. Now the renowned restaurant had fallen to the wayside and clung to its former glory as best it could. Few, if any one of any upper class status now came here and even fewer working class figures came here due to the still extraordinarily high prices the menu claimed the food was worth. But despite all this, a lone figure sat at a table; his mouth chewing veraciously on a mouthful of meat. On the table before him was a pile of dirty and used plates, cups, bowls, napkins and silverware; all crusted with food.

The young looking miqo'te that called himself 'Crate' tore another chunk off of his sandwich and chewed, his ears ringing with the loud music pumping through the two, custom built linkpearls that were inserted into his pointed ears. He was small and sickly looking and dressed in robes that were several sizes too big for him. For a Seeker, his flesh was a disturbingly pale and his blond hair was a puffy, tangled mess. His twin, black eyes looked over the sea of food that awaited him and he kept eating. In truth it was amazing that a, well, boy whom looked like a strong wind might blow him over, could consume so much

For the past three and half hours Crate had been sitting at the table, eating and keeping the flames in the kitchen burning hot. The thin, young man was enjoying himself immensely, though the restaurant staff was growing tired. Crate swallowed a chunk of food, his throat bulging as the wad slid slowly down, his body shaking wildly to the instrumental beat that pulsed into his ears. He was about to take another large bite when a figure tapped his shoulder and he spun around quickly, his eyes gazing up at a tall man dressed in a fine suit. Crate beamed a smile at the newcomer. The waiter moved his mouth to say something but whatever he had said was lost as the music’s roar.

“What?”Crate yelled, forgetting that he was the only one hearing the loud noise that was coming through the pearl. The waiter, slightly startled by Crate’s outburst, took a moment to recompose himself before asking again. Again, Crate couldn’t hear any thing and shouted as he stuck the last piece of the sandwich into his mouth.

“Sorry!” Crate yelled. “Still can’t here you!” The waiter brushed the showering of crumbs off his suit and pulled the pearls out of Crate’s ears and handed them to the miqo'te.

“Hey now!” protested Crate, his mouth still full of food as he snatched up his linkpearls. “I was enjoying that.”

“I am well aware of that fact.” came the waiter, who was doing his best to hide the edge in his voice as he spoke to the young man.

“Then why’d ya go and pull it off like that?” whined Crate as he swallowed; his eyes bulging slightly and a smile covering his face. “Could have just asked.”

“I tried,” the waiter paused and decided best to just move to the matter at hand. “Anyway the cooks are taking a break, so I’m going to need to ask that you pay your tab now and leave.”

“And what if I’m still hungry?” Crate inquired, his eyes wide and pleading. The waiter looked at the mountain of plates stacked up before him and raised an eyebrow.

“If you are,” muttered the waiter. “I’ll need to send you down to med hall for examination.” Crate burst into hysterical laughter and leaned back in his chair, his left arm slapping the waiter good humoredly.

“Well I guess I can call it a day then. But I’ll be back later. After all, I'm eating for more than just me!” Crate finished speaking and then calmly let himself fall backwards, his chair hitting the ground. As soon as the wooden chair hit the marble floor, Crate used the inertia created to roll backwards and rise to his feet. The waiter stood, staring at the spectacle. “Well thanks for the grub. Laters.”

Crate was already halfway towards the door when his field of vision suddenly became consumed by a small sheet of white paper with a very large number attached to the bottom. The waiter cleared his throat.

“Your tab.” and after a moment, the Waiter added sarcastically. “Sir.” For a moment Crate could only stare at the number, his smile falling slightly.

“You sure that bill is mine?” chuckled Crate, his eyes twinkling suddenly as an idea crept into his blonde haired head.

“Without a doubt.” replied the Waiter and Crate didn’t miss the hint of triumph in the voice.

“Well then.”Crate paused and looked over at the bar. “Since I don’t think that’s my tab, I’m going to challenge you to a little drinking game.” The young man was already over at the bar and seating himself on a stool, his eyes running over the various liquids available. “Here’s the game. I bet that I can empty one glass of milk before you can drink two shots of any liquor you choose. I win, the tab isn’t mine, you win and I’ll do all the dishes for you, plus pay the tab.” Crate turned back and looked at the stupefied waiter. “Sound fine to you?”

For a moment, the man in the waiter’s suit could only wonder at the ridiculous statement the boy had made. This was absurd! But Crate gave a cough and the waiter thought. If he was too lose, his boss would take it out of his hid for losing all the money. On the plus side, it would be wonderful to see this boy put in his place for once. Besides, there was no way Crate could drink a large glass of milk before he could drink two shots. So, with a bit of a strut, the waiter climbed behind the counter and looked Crate right in the eyes.

“You’re on.”

“Excellent.” was Crates response and he watched with feigned interest as the waiter began to fumble with various cups. Crate was not surprised when the biggest glass he had ever seen was placed before him, the milk right up against the brim. The waiter then placed to shots of Brandy on the counter and the two glared at each other like a pair of gun slingers.

“I trust you’re ready?” sneered the waiter.

“I guess.” replied Crate, a yawn escaping his lips.

“Then, go!” the waiter had already seized the first shot and had thrown his head back, the brandy hot on his throat. His other hand was already fumbling for the second shot when he felt something cold and wet hit the flesh of his hand. He looked down and saw the tall glass upside down and the milk flowing all over the counter and dripping off the sides onto the floor. Crate had already left his seat and was heading out the door.

“Hey!”shrieked the waiter, his face a mask of utter outrage. “Just what are you doing?”

“Um,” came Crate, sticking his head back through the door. “I won the bet sooooo I’m leaving.”

“You did not! You didn’t even have a sip, you only spilt the glass. You lost” shouted the obstinate waiter.

“No,” came Crate again, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I won, see the bet was I could empty a glass of milk before you could drink two shots of liquor and from where I’m standing, that glass looks pretty empty.” The waiter stared in shock, the realization of Crate’s words hitting him like a hammer. Crate shrugged and flashed the waiter a wink. “See you for dinner!” And with that the young man was gone, the door closing with a triumphant slam. The waiter paused a minute, his brain still processing what had transpired. Suddenly he came to life and ran for the door after Crate to force him to pay. The waiter burst into the street but by then, Crate had disappeared in the crowd.

Among the throngs of people, the small miqo'te weaved, slipping his linkpearls back in, the music playing again as he grinned to himself.

"Crate." the small male blinked as his master's voice spilled over the comm and he waved his hand. The music stopped and he lowered his voice as he smiled.

"Ah, there you are, my dear master. Was wondering when you would be contacting me."

"I apologize for the delay." the sultry, female voice replied back. "There have been some issues. But things are progressing."

"So the prison is weakening?" Crate inquired as he ducked down a side alley.

"Slowly, but we need more help and William's coven was just butchered."

Crate stopped to stand, stupidly, as he pulled out a toothpick and began to pick roast beef from between his teeth.

"Well, shit. That's a set back."

"Not entirely." the female voice answered. "One of the voidspawn managed to find an old friend of mine from Kerhiem.

Crate blinked.

"Tornel?" Crate answered at last as he flicked the tooth pick away. "He's in the asylum I...oh!" Crate nodded eagerly, his mop of hair shaking. "You mean the sexy collection of metal and muscle. Mhmm I've missed that delicious morsel."

"For a creature over a hundred, you certainly have the drive of a young man." the female replied. Crate laughed.

"Blame the hormones in this body. Now then, I take it you didn't call to tease me with a good time."

"Not at all." the female chuckled. "I need you to get to Tornel before Hojo'to does. As much as it pains me to say this, I need Tornel removed from this world."

"Axing off an old lover and a useful pawn. Man, this is urgent." Crate twitched his tail. "Can't you make him kill himself via the hex on him?"

"He's warded from me." the female replied. Crate grunted at that.

"Great, gotta do this in person. Alright, I'll start packing and have it done quick as a couerl takes a shit. Or as quick as a virgin man comes" Crate snickered impishly.

"Crate." the female voice added, ignoring the miqo'te's lewd statement. "You are not to tamper with his soul or reanimate his body. A clean death."

"Excuse me..." Crate laughed. "Is that a soft side to you I'm seeing? Never fear, it'll be clean, Master. Nice and clean. I'll be in touch once its complete."

"Expect to be checking in with Terbia's coven once done. Now that William is a splattered ruin, her organization remains the most efficient means at drawing out the voidspawn at a reasonable pace."

"Your will be done Master." Crate heard the line go dead. He waved his hand and the music resumed.

"It's a good day." Crate grinned as he began to head back towards his hotel room, excited.

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