User:Wakamiya no Renge

若宮の蓮華　 Wakamiya no Renge
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Gender	Female.
Race	Au Ra.
Clan	Raen.
Citizenship	Doman refugee.
Age	19.
Marital Status	Single.
Occupation	Alchemist. Shrine maiden. Assassin. Poet.
Height/Weight	4'9"/109lbs.
Orientation	Heterosexual.
Nameday	14th Sun of the 3rd Umbral Moon

Wakamiya no Renge (pronounced wah-kah-mee-yah noh rehn-geh) is a Doman refugee who fled the massacre perpetrated by the Garlean Empire during the rebellion. One of the last to escape her family's ancient shrine in the southern peaks of Doma, she came to Ul'dah and put her lesser known talents to work. Renge spent her first few months under the Monetarists' rule taking any odd jobs people were willing to give her and picking pockets when hunger forced her hand. After scrimping and saving for a little over a year, she managed to open up a tiny apothecary in Pearl Lane, but an unfortunate attack on her life ruined all her hard work. Once more, she finds herself living as a nomad and traveling around Eorzea, experiencing all this new world has to offer her.

Basic Info

Blood Type: O.

Positive Traits for Blood Type:

■ Confident.

■ Self-determined.

■ Optimistic.

■ Strong-willed.

■ Intuitive.

Negative Traits for Blood Type:

■ Self-centered.

■ Cold.

■ Doubtful.

■ Unpredictable.

■ Workaholic.

LIKES ■ Rainy, cloudy days. ■ Music. She enjoys playing her koto. ■ People watching. ■ Silence. ■ Books, particularly poetry anthologies. ■ Games, especially mazes and riddles. ■ Doman plums. ■ Hot tea, sweetened or otherwise flavoured. ■ Heights. ■ Stargazing. ■ Hair.

DISLIKES ■ Cold weather. ■ Garleans. ■ Spiders. ■ Lemons. ■ Nosy people. ■ Foolish people. ■ The snooty attitudes of the Monetarists. ■ People who demand respect without first earning it. ■ Entitled people. ■ Echo.

OTHER ■ Alignment: Chaotic Neutral. ■ Vice(s): Sweets. Cakes, pies, pastries, puddings, she loves them all. ■ Favorite Food: Snurbleberry Tarts Almond Cream Croissants Sweet Rice Cakes ■ Favorite Drink: Frozen Spirits Spiced Cider Mulled Tea ■ Favorite Colour(s): Violet and grey.

Appearance

WIP.

Hayashi no Junki was grateful to be on a short leave from his Garlean military service. A deployment to the Coerthas Highlands loomed in his future and he looked forward to camping in the snowy peaks as much as he might anticipate a dagger slipped between his ribs. Only two days had passed since he managed to return to his family home in southern Doma after a stint in Castrum Meridianum. Much as he enjoyed the variety of seafood to be had from the Roegadyn chefs and their vast selection of ales, ports, and fine wines, nothing beat the warm arms and coy glances of the oiran in Gion, Doma. The anticipation of tumbling a pretty courtesan or two in one of the cheaper okiya practically had him skipping down the street, oblivious to the delightful smells of sweet takoyaki and savoury okonomiyaki wafting out of vendor stalls.

But he needed a gift and the life of a low-ranking Garlean hoplomachus was not exactly a career path guaranteed to lead to fabulous wealth. Purchasing the first gaudy trinket he could find, he palmed the bronze brooch with its obviously fake sapphire embedded in the center and took a deep breath to steady nerves that buzzed like a swarm of bees erupting from the apiaries of Gridania. He couldn't take a cozy roll in the sheets without payment, no matter how comely his face happened to be.

A quick brush of one hand over his nose reminded him that his face might not be as lovely as it once was.

Junki strolled through the streets of the sprawling Kabukicho district, arms folded over his chest beneath the wide sleeves of his haori. What a relief to wear light cotton instead of the heavy chain and plate issued to his platoon; he believed that armor slowed him down, left him feeling like a man trying to fight his way through the sucking bogs of a dreary swamp. Though the city around him was not as bustling as it had been before Garlemald declared occupancy, the Bazaar was still alive with the shrill cries of merchants peddling their wares at the tops of their lungs and childish laughter echoed down the alleys. The saccharine scent of baking pastries filled the air and finally tickled his nose, and Junki closed his eyes a moment to better enjoy the heavenly odour while his feet continued moving on autopilot.

Salivating and lost in a private reverie, he failed to notice the obstruction in his path and the tall Auri warrior stumbled directly into what felt like the shortest, most fragile lamppost he'd ever encountered.

What the--? he wondered, emerald eyes popping wide open. Had he walked into a young sapling? By the kami, who would plant a sapling in the middle of the street? His clean-shaven chin tipped down and, with a ready curse springing to his lips and confusion doing the backstroke across his face, he gazed down at the object that had tripped him up. The epithets died before they could escape his mouth.

It wasn't a pole. Wasn't a pillar. Wasn't a tree.

It was a person.

An Auri female, to be exact with small ivory horns that sloped back from her head. Dainty as the elaborate porcelain dolls sold in the finest shops of the city, she was no statuesque goddess, but her lack of height didn't detract from the grace and self-possessed aura with which she seemed to carry herself. She peered up at him from beneath a curtain of thick hair, darker than a crow's wing and straight as a Garlean road. He guessed she stood no more than 1½ yalms high.

Junki's mouth, which had previously been drooling at the notion of tasting one of the plum pastries that tantalized his nose, went dry.

Almond-shaped and tilted up at the corners, wide eyes dominated her vulpine face. The right was grey as gathering storm clouds, but the left... the left boasted a limbal ring that glimmered silver in the sunshine like the edge of a freshly-honed blade. She had the look of the fox spirits revered at the Wakamiya Inari shrine with a face that was wider at the forehead and steadily narrowed down to a pointed little chin, and her pale peach complexion had the warrior wondering if she tasted as sweet as she looked. A tiny mouth with full red lips curved up in a tight, knowing smile.

His hands twitched at his sides, itching to reach out and sample the curves hidden beneath the pristine white hakui and the blood-red hakama.

Wait... Hakui... hakama... As Junki completed his perusal of the young woman, she nodded to him, still wearing that odd little grin that seemed to say, "I know something you don't know" in a silent sing-song. Turning her back on him before he could speak, before he could apologize for bumbling into her like a clumsy oaf, the miko lost herself in the market crowd pushing in on them from all sides. She slipped away, graceful as a swan gliding across the waters of a lake and it was only then that the warrior noticed something felt a bit off.

He was a tiny bit lighter on his feet.

Opening his hands and staring down at his empty palms, he made an unpleasant discovery: that damned shrine maiden stole his brooch!

Biography

1560

Childhood

WIP.

Teenage

WIP.

1577-Present

WIP.

(... This page is currently under construction. Please check back later. Also, please see @auriren.tumblr.com for Renge's poetry and other works.)

Miscellaneous

RUMORS Some of these rumors are untrue or are greatly exaggerated. Please feel free to add your own rumors under PC! ◢ Common Rumors (Easily overheard) ■ ■ ■ ◢ Moderate Rumors (Moderately difficult to overhear) ■ ■ ◢ Rare Rumors (Very difficult or rarely overheard) ■ ◢ PC Rumors (Rumors from the character's of other players) ■ ■ ■ ■

RELATIONS ♥ Romantic Interest    ♥ Platonic Love     ● Good Standing     ● Poor Standing ♥ ● Kara Iriq : One of Renge's more interesting customers, he crashed into her apothecary and demanded that she brew for him a poison with a rather specific set of effects after hearing a rumour regarding an adventurous alchemist in Pearl Lane. This stoic, taciturn Xaela managed to drag her into the hazardous underworld of the Glass Network and wound up turning her life on its ear. The pair of them struck a deal and now Kara has a jovial, snarky sidekick. She stands in for his missing left hand. ●

Family Matters

Relatives:

Father: 若宮の靖.　
Wakamiya no Yasushi.

Mother: 若宮の綾子 née 森丘.
Wakamiya no Ayako née Morioka.

Paternal:

Grandfather: 若宮の真.
Wakamiya no Makoto.

Grandmother: 若宮の紫 née 相馬.
Wakamiya no Murasaki née Sōma.

Maternal:

Grandfather: 森丘の博信.
Morioka no Hironobu.

Grandmother: 森丘の裕子 née 今川.
Morioka no Yuuko née Imagawa.

Though she comes from an extensive family tree with numerous branches, the majority of her relatives have been listed as "deceased." Most of the deaths have been ruled accidental and whispers abounded in Doma that the Wakamiya line was cursed.

Gallery

Footnotes

TV Tropes: Abusive Parents Archnemesis Dad The Clan

You are Already Dead Martial Arts and Crafts Pressure Point Aw, Look Love at First Punch Miko