Nhovi Mokov (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
equivocator) wrote2014-07-16 06:40 am
equivocator) wrote2014-07-16 06:40 am
app for demeleier
Player Name: seki
Player DW:gasmask
Contact:![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
cheesies / seven idiots @ AIM / canekind @ skype
Character Number: 02
Character: Nhovi Mokov
Source: Final Fantasy XIV: A Realm Reborn [OC]
Appearance: Being a cat girl, more formally known as a miqo'te, Nhovi takes on the small stature and distinctive ears and tail of her kind. She is below average height (4'10) and has pale skin and paler hair; her ears and tail are also white to match, the tips of her ears and tail very lightly grey. Her eyes are a very light blue, one a barely noticeable shade different from the other. Though she may be comparatively short to most other people in Demeleier, she is definitely not scrawny. A life of military practice means she's grown to be quite muscular, but not at all in a lean or sculpted way.
History: Here is a written history section, which I've also made a timeline for too, since the first link is pretty dense and lacks a lot of the specific context!
Timeline: 1577; just before ARR starts proper.
Personality: Nhovi is a soldier before anything else.
She carries a fanatical reverence of and devotion to her Empire; she fully embraces war and duty. As per the Garlean's desires, her heart is completely hardened to the horrors of war and slaughter has become mere reflex. She does as she is told by her martial superiors, respecting and bowing down to them without question. She is disciplined, having a very tight control on her emotions and demeanor and very thought processes. She lives and breathes the Empire that saved her in her childhood, and once sought to set example for the legionaries she led.
Nhovi is the ideal pawn, doing her part with gusto and never questioning or thinking beyond what she has been allowed. And for most of her life, that is how she's been. As such, she has never been allowed or even allowed herself to truly grow as an individual. Nhovi is a mystery to herself, but not one that particularly requires solving. It's not a point of pivotal distress. She is a vessel through which the Empire's will shall manifest, and she loves the sense of belonging that affords her.
The combination of being orphaned and exposed to all sorts of atrocity from so young taught her to cut certain negative emotions away. It can exist, but she looks at as though it were literally detached from her and works to kill and bury it. It isn't like your usual "bottling up", either; this gesture is one that is so practiced and thorough that she does not spare a thought to it even while she's doing it.
The only sort of negative emotion she allows herself to show are things like shame, humility, and anger. This is simply because they are all acceptable things for a soldier to feel and show; the righteous anger toward her Empire's enemies, the shame of having let her Legion down, and the humility of someone who recognizes themselves as a number. These things are desirable as a display of whole and true allegiance.
That is, of course, in a military context. It's not a habit easily discarded, and her military experience is completely indistinguishable from her personal experience. But there is one thing that spurs Nhovi on to more thorough, deep emotion. Her last remaining relative, a sister by the name of Miah, is so far the only person in her life to really get to Nhovi. She considers the Empire the only thing she truly loves, but buried deeply underneath that is a similar feeling for her sibling.
Every time she has cried from her adolescence onwards has been for Miah. She worries and she cares in a deep meaningful way, despite their critical differences. Nhovi has met many people who died shortly after their meeting, as well as developed lasting friendships with her peers. But none were anything in comparison to the sister she grew up with.
Though Miah was a shell of a woman toward their final encounter, and though Miah was a liability and an abhorrent disgrace and immensely frustrating, Nhovi holds deep regret for not convincing her sister to stay. The main reason for this is that she could have controlled the way Miah died-- the "what if" of it all has eaten her since the Calamity. Miah likely died as miserable as she lived. Nhovi wishes she could have carried out the execution herself.
But despite the convoluted ways she processes negative emotion, Nhovi freely indulges in positive emotion. In downtime, she is exceedingly chipper and friendly and warm. Nhovi is often indifferent, something that allows her to slip into a professional setting very well, but she is very good at affecting enthusiasm and care, though she is no master of reading a mood. Her affected warmth is very different from her actual enthusiasm and love, but not in a way that seems displaced-- she just grows deeply intense.
She does hold a passion for learning that she has always suppressed to better serve, as ambition was seen by Nhovi as a hindrance, and she certainly still feels as though she has no place having ambitions beyond those of the nation at large. But in present day, she's latched onto her love of learning in a way she had once latched onto her martial prowess-- as yet another way to serve the Garlean Empire.
There are a few recurring things that consistently have Nhovi butting heads with people through her life, and especially in Eorzea.
First is her almost complete lack of empathy. Despite being able to offer condolences like a champ, she is baffled by most of the things people get sad about. Killing is a particularly potent example; when the Legion turns to kill "traitorous" soldiers, Nhovi has no problem with it, even if they were once her friends-- but she is able to offer a sympathetic word to others saddened by their parting, riddled with Imperial sentiment as it might be. This is also the main problem between her and Miah, as Nhovi doesn't understand why Miah has broken down so thoroughly and even gets angry with her for it. We're doing the Empire's righteous work, why aren't you proud?!
Second ties in with her lacking in empathy, and began to redevelop as she lost the structure of military after desertion. Eorzea isn't friendly to Garlemald, and she's in a state of constant paranoia of either being outed or found. So in response, she reverted to a habit she once had in her young childhood-- something that once accompanied that sense of constant fear. Though it developed in response to needing to conceal and protect herself, it's since snowballed.
Nhovi is a bit like a pathological liar in that she lies way more than is ever necessary. It generally takes the form of really mundane details like where she was or what she was doing or where she was born or her family's status, though she never lies about Miah being alive. She also conceals her true object of research (magitek) from most people, except when especially pressed or necessary. These lies are deliberate.
Less deliberate are the elaborate stories she weaves; she has a knack for storytelling, and generally rewords and remixes things she hears from other people for her to personally star in. She is never too fantastical with her storytelling, and doesn't often invent things too easily seen through, like claiming certain popularly known facts as untrue. But she is very inconsistent across periods of time. It works for her in Eorzea, since she travels a lot and can remember easily a single visit or story... but considering the frequency she spins such shit, it's a lot to keep track of. She doesn't think about it, but will admit that she's lying if directly confronted. It's not a big deal.
Throughout her life, Nhovi has confronted and overcome many obstacles. But her complete lack of a sense of self makes it less a triumph over innermost evil than another person going through the motions until they eventually break. Nhovi considers herself a soldier even now, five years since the Calamity that drove her to make the worst decision of her life.
Abilities: Being promoted to centurion in an Imperial military and having trained for such a position her entire life, Nhovi is incredibly adept with the various ways her Empire fights. She can operate magitek, be it piloting one of the reapers, directing a juggernaut, or swiftly wielding her gunblade. She is a very good shot, even mounted. She has experience leading, though with limited numbers.
More magically, Nhovi is a thaumaturge. Skill list here. Thaumaturgy is a school of magic which studies the ability to call upon one's own latent aetheric power and channel it into massively destructive power. Her studies are ongoing as she only picked it up five years ago, and many people go entire lifetimes without mastering it. That said, she does have an innate talent for casting and a better grasp on theory. Casting requires stillness and concentration, so despite being physically tougher than most who seek out the Thaumaturge's Guild, she's very much a sitting duck. Especially if separated from her conductor-- a staff-- which bizarrely enough channels magic so it may take physical form!
Other than combat related abilities and a few mundane scholarly abilities, she's completely useless. She can't cook or do any sort of alchemy, create art, or really craft anything besides shitty on-the-go DIY repairs. If duct tape existed in Eorzea, she would be in the fanclub.
Inventory: Clothing-wise, she only has what she's wearing.
Nhovi carries a huge bag with her wherever she goes in her travels. This thing was custom made to be waterproofed and durable while also being nearly impractically large. She's turned into a bit of a self-styled researcher, so carries many books and notes and paper and "research material" with her at all times, since the sensitive nature of magitek research and her paranoia do not allow her to leave things anywhere, lest they be found.
"Research material" includes things like mechanical parts, a large chunk of which will be missing thanks to their being made primarily of iron, though a few things are definitely steel. She also has aetheric, elemental crystal shards collected in several organized bags though there isn't a huge amount; she possesses just a single unaspected crystal larger than a splinter, and two drained crystals of similar size. She also has two Allagan tomestones; one unidentified and the other of philosophy.
In addition to the above, she carries her standard issue centurion gunblade, along with her old helmet in her bag. These are wrapped up tight and buried as deeply as possible. She also has a bag of gil and a few Allagan antique coins.
Also, her chocobo Boss will be joining her in Demeleier. She has a whistle to call her with.
Prose Sample: Though it's nearing dark, and though it's a tavern-inn so remote and shabby maybe fifty different travelers slam into a year, the atmosphere is impeccably lively. Nhovi had stopped by here only for a night's rest before heading onward to the abandoned Dzemael Darkhold; the village housing this inn was only a few hours on chocoback from the site. And while she had heard it was dangerous, and while she was a touch nervous to head that way, she was far too curious to simply abandon the idea.
But for now, she's wrapped up in something else entirely. Storytelling.
"-- And you understand, it was on my honor as an adventurer to see it done. No matter the peril ahead, I had to find that man's son. He worked his fingers to the bone day and night, rest only allowed with someone taking over his post. Certainly you see the dilemma! The rest of his sons were too young to take over for their father yet, and with the eldest son missing..."
Nhovi went on, making things up on the fly and incorporating what she knew of Thanalan to add a degree of realism to the tale. She had heard this story before; a lalafell family had lost their cat in the original, but none had enough time to venture out and find the damn thing with the harvest farm work piling in. It was hardly an adventurer's story, and was something she'd heard from an angry old man, their wealthy grandfather, at the Quicksand some years ago.
She goes on, detailing the encounter with the son. "He was a mess the way I found him, poor boy. But as I am always so prepared, as all adventurers and miqo'te ought to be--" she winks, "--and a hi-potion fixed him up right. He'd told me to look for an amalj'aa warrior princess, and that she was leading the capture of magic-rich folk for her small tribe's annual offerings to the megatribe around their Zahar'ak. From there, these travelers would eventually be offered up to their eikon, Ifrit, for tempering. Was a terrible thing, but here I am, a single thaumaturge having gotten in way over her head!"
As the ale keeps coming, Nhovi's story intensifies. She tells of how she recruits a few wandering travelers from Ul'dah-- there was simply no TIME to head to the city proper, they had to act NOW!-- and through a variety of very tricky stealth movements, successfully free the prisoners. Doubling and even tripling up on their chocobo, they rode off into the sunset and successfully prevented the summoning of Ifrit-- because EVERYONE knows the ritual is extremely specific.
The tavern was rowdy with laughter as Nhovi detailed a particular amalj'aa delicacy snatched up by a young hyur girl with atrocious tastebuds, and it was then that a barmaid wandered up to ask a question.
"Madam," she starts, earnestly smiling at her as the entire room's attention shifts. "Why call it an eikon? I've never heard that word used for Ifrit. Wasn't it, um. A primal?"
And as Nhovi finishes off her glass, she grins wide with teeth and explains with flourishing hand gestures, stomach sinking all the while. "Ah, yes. It's a particular custom of a group of Duskwight I once worked with. I was paid for my services as an alchemist to craft them vast vats of glue over the course of a few years. Couldn't tell you why, but they oft spoke of the great Eikon Conspiracies. They were a particularly backwater group."
The others laugh, and the barmaid smiles. Nhovi leans, peering out the window. The moon is in the sky, and that's as wonderful a cue as any. "Pardon me, but it's far too late. I'll be heading off to my inn room. Thank you for your hospitality!"
And just like that, she waves over her shoulder with her bag now firmly on her back, and steps up to her inn room. She sleeps with furniture pushed in front of the door, and every bolt and chain done up.
Journal Sample: Here!
Player DW:
gasmaskContact:
Character Number: 02
Character: Nhovi Mokov
Source: Final Fantasy XIV: A Realm Reborn [OC]
Appearance: Being a cat girl, more formally known as a miqo'te, Nhovi takes on the small stature and distinctive ears and tail of her kind. She is below average height (4'10) and has pale skin and paler hair; her ears and tail are also white to match, the tips of her ears and tail very lightly grey. Her eyes are a very light blue, one a barely noticeable shade different from the other. Though she may be comparatively short to most other people in Demeleier, she is definitely not scrawny. A life of military practice means she's grown to be quite muscular, but not at all in a lean or sculpted way.
History: Here is a written history section, which I've also made a timeline for too, since the first link is pretty dense and lacks a lot of the specific context!
Timeline: 1577; just before ARR starts proper.
Personality: Nhovi is a soldier before anything else.
She carries a fanatical reverence of and devotion to her Empire; she fully embraces war and duty. As per the Garlean's desires, her heart is completely hardened to the horrors of war and slaughter has become mere reflex. She does as she is told by her martial superiors, respecting and bowing down to them without question. She is disciplined, having a very tight control on her emotions and demeanor and very thought processes. She lives and breathes the Empire that saved her in her childhood, and once sought to set example for the legionaries she led.
Nhovi is the ideal pawn, doing her part with gusto and never questioning or thinking beyond what she has been allowed. And for most of her life, that is how she's been. As such, she has never been allowed or even allowed herself to truly grow as an individual. Nhovi is a mystery to herself, but not one that particularly requires solving. It's not a point of pivotal distress. She is a vessel through which the Empire's will shall manifest, and she loves the sense of belonging that affords her.
The combination of being orphaned and exposed to all sorts of atrocity from so young taught her to cut certain negative emotions away. It can exist, but she looks at as though it were literally detached from her and works to kill and bury it. It isn't like your usual "bottling up", either; this gesture is one that is so practiced and thorough that she does not spare a thought to it even while she's doing it.
The only sort of negative emotion she allows herself to show are things like shame, humility, and anger. This is simply because they are all acceptable things for a soldier to feel and show; the righteous anger toward her Empire's enemies, the shame of having let her Legion down, and the humility of someone who recognizes themselves as a number. These things are desirable as a display of whole and true allegiance.
That is, of course, in a military context. It's not a habit easily discarded, and her military experience is completely indistinguishable from her personal experience. But there is one thing that spurs Nhovi on to more thorough, deep emotion. Her last remaining relative, a sister by the name of Miah, is so far the only person in her life to really get to Nhovi. She considers the Empire the only thing she truly loves, but buried deeply underneath that is a similar feeling for her sibling.
Every time she has cried from her adolescence onwards has been for Miah. She worries and she cares in a deep meaningful way, despite their critical differences. Nhovi has met many people who died shortly after their meeting, as well as developed lasting friendships with her peers. But none were anything in comparison to the sister she grew up with.
Though Miah was a shell of a woman toward their final encounter, and though Miah was a liability and an abhorrent disgrace and immensely frustrating, Nhovi holds deep regret for not convincing her sister to stay. The main reason for this is that she could have controlled the way Miah died-- the "what if" of it all has eaten her since the Calamity. Miah likely died as miserable as she lived. Nhovi wishes she could have carried out the execution herself.
But despite the convoluted ways she processes negative emotion, Nhovi freely indulges in positive emotion. In downtime, she is exceedingly chipper and friendly and warm. Nhovi is often indifferent, something that allows her to slip into a professional setting very well, but she is very good at affecting enthusiasm and care, though she is no master of reading a mood. Her affected warmth is very different from her actual enthusiasm and love, but not in a way that seems displaced-- she just grows deeply intense.
She does hold a passion for learning that she has always suppressed to better serve, as ambition was seen by Nhovi as a hindrance, and she certainly still feels as though she has no place having ambitions beyond those of the nation at large. But in present day, she's latched onto her love of learning in a way she had once latched onto her martial prowess-- as yet another way to serve the Garlean Empire.
There are a few recurring things that consistently have Nhovi butting heads with people through her life, and especially in Eorzea.
First is her almost complete lack of empathy. Despite being able to offer condolences like a champ, she is baffled by most of the things people get sad about. Killing is a particularly potent example; when the Legion turns to kill "traitorous" soldiers, Nhovi has no problem with it, even if they were once her friends-- but she is able to offer a sympathetic word to others saddened by their parting, riddled with Imperial sentiment as it might be. This is also the main problem between her and Miah, as Nhovi doesn't understand why Miah has broken down so thoroughly and even gets angry with her for it. We're doing the Empire's righteous work, why aren't you proud?!
Second ties in with her lacking in empathy, and began to redevelop as she lost the structure of military after desertion. Eorzea isn't friendly to Garlemald, and she's in a state of constant paranoia of either being outed or found. So in response, she reverted to a habit she once had in her young childhood-- something that once accompanied that sense of constant fear. Though it developed in response to needing to conceal and protect herself, it's since snowballed.
Nhovi is a bit like a pathological liar in that she lies way more than is ever necessary. It generally takes the form of really mundane details like where she was or what she was doing or where she was born or her family's status, though she never lies about Miah being alive. She also conceals her true object of research (magitek) from most people, except when especially pressed or necessary. These lies are deliberate.
Less deliberate are the elaborate stories she weaves; she has a knack for storytelling, and generally rewords and remixes things she hears from other people for her to personally star in. She is never too fantastical with her storytelling, and doesn't often invent things too easily seen through, like claiming certain popularly known facts as untrue. But she is very inconsistent across periods of time. It works for her in Eorzea, since she travels a lot and can remember easily a single visit or story... but considering the frequency she spins such shit, it's a lot to keep track of. She doesn't think about it, but will admit that she's lying if directly confronted. It's not a big deal.
Throughout her life, Nhovi has confronted and overcome many obstacles. But her complete lack of a sense of self makes it less a triumph over innermost evil than another person going through the motions until they eventually break. Nhovi considers herself a soldier even now, five years since the Calamity that drove her to make the worst decision of her life.
Abilities: Being promoted to centurion in an Imperial military and having trained for such a position her entire life, Nhovi is incredibly adept with the various ways her Empire fights. She can operate magitek, be it piloting one of the reapers, directing a juggernaut, or swiftly wielding her gunblade. She is a very good shot, even mounted. She has experience leading, though with limited numbers.
More magically, Nhovi is a thaumaturge. Skill list here. Thaumaturgy is a school of magic which studies the ability to call upon one's own latent aetheric power and channel it into massively destructive power. Her studies are ongoing as she only picked it up five years ago, and many people go entire lifetimes without mastering it. That said, she does have an innate talent for casting and a better grasp on theory. Casting requires stillness and concentration, so despite being physically tougher than most who seek out the Thaumaturge's Guild, she's very much a sitting duck. Especially if separated from her conductor-- a staff-- which bizarrely enough channels magic so it may take physical form!
Other than combat related abilities and a few mundane scholarly abilities, she's completely useless. She can't cook or do any sort of alchemy, create art, or really craft anything besides shitty on-the-go DIY repairs. If duct tape existed in Eorzea, she would be in the fanclub.
Inventory: Clothing-wise, she only has what she's wearing.
Nhovi carries a huge bag with her wherever she goes in her travels. This thing was custom made to be waterproofed and durable while also being nearly impractically large. She's turned into a bit of a self-styled researcher, so carries many books and notes and paper and "research material" with her at all times, since the sensitive nature of magitek research and her paranoia do not allow her to leave things anywhere, lest they be found.
"Research material" includes things like mechanical parts, a large chunk of which will be missing thanks to their being made primarily of iron, though a few things are definitely steel. She also has aetheric, elemental crystal shards collected in several organized bags though there isn't a huge amount; she possesses just a single unaspected crystal larger than a splinter, and two drained crystals of similar size. She also has two Allagan tomestones; one unidentified and the other of philosophy.
In addition to the above, she carries her standard issue centurion gunblade, along with her old helmet in her bag. These are wrapped up tight and buried as deeply as possible. She also has a bag of gil and a few Allagan antique coins.
Also, her chocobo Boss will be joining her in Demeleier. She has a whistle to call her with.
Prose Sample: Though it's nearing dark, and though it's a tavern-inn so remote and shabby maybe fifty different travelers slam into a year, the atmosphere is impeccably lively. Nhovi had stopped by here only for a night's rest before heading onward to the abandoned Dzemael Darkhold; the village housing this inn was only a few hours on chocoback from the site. And while she had heard it was dangerous, and while she was a touch nervous to head that way, she was far too curious to simply abandon the idea.
But for now, she's wrapped up in something else entirely. Storytelling.
"-- And you understand, it was on my honor as an adventurer to see it done. No matter the peril ahead, I had to find that man's son. He worked his fingers to the bone day and night, rest only allowed with someone taking over his post. Certainly you see the dilemma! The rest of his sons were too young to take over for their father yet, and with the eldest son missing..."
Nhovi went on, making things up on the fly and incorporating what she knew of Thanalan to add a degree of realism to the tale. She had heard this story before; a lalafell family had lost their cat in the original, but none had enough time to venture out and find the damn thing with the harvest farm work piling in. It was hardly an adventurer's story, and was something she'd heard from an angry old man, their wealthy grandfather, at the Quicksand some years ago.
She goes on, detailing the encounter with the son. "He was a mess the way I found him, poor boy. But as I am always so prepared, as all adventurers and miqo'te ought to be--" she winks, "--and a hi-potion fixed him up right. He'd told me to look for an amalj'aa warrior princess, and that she was leading the capture of magic-rich folk for her small tribe's annual offerings to the megatribe around their Zahar'ak. From there, these travelers would eventually be offered up to their eikon, Ifrit, for tempering. Was a terrible thing, but here I am, a single thaumaturge having gotten in way over her head!"
As the ale keeps coming, Nhovi's story intensifies. She tells of how she recruits a few wandering travelers from Ul'dah-- there was simply no TIME to head to the city proper, they had to act NOW!-- and through a variety of very tricky stealth movements, successfully free the prisoners. Doubling and even tripling up on their chocobo, they rode off into the sunset and successfully prevented the summoning of Ifrit-- because EVERYONE knows the ritual is extremely specific.
The tavern was rowdy with laughter as Nhovi detailed a particular amalj'aa delicacy snatched up by a young hyur girl with atrocious tastebuds, and it was then that a barmaid wandered up to ask a question.
"Madam," she starts, earnestly smiling at her as the entire room's attention shifts. "Why call it an eikon? I've never heard that word used for Ifrit. Wasn't it, um. A primal?"
And as Nhovi finishes off her glass, she grins wide with teeth and explains with flourishing hand gestures, stomach sinking all the while. "Ah, yes. It's a particular custom of a group of Duskwight I once worked with. I was paid for my services as an alchemist to craft them vast vats of glue over the course of a few years. Couldn't tell you why, but they oft spoke of the great Eikon Conspiracies. They were a particularly backwater group."
The others laugh, and the barmaid smiles. Nhovi leans, peering out the window. The moon is in the sky, and that's as wonderful a cue as any. "Pardon me, but it's far too late. I'll be heading off to my inn room. Thank you for your hospitality!"
And just like that, she waves over her shoulder with her bag now firmly on her back, and steps up to her inn room. She sleeps with furniture pushed in front of the door, and every bolt and chain done up.
Journal Sample: Here!