#shieldbcund

[thorneyes]

Rohesia and Elouan? For the character impression meme! -shieldbcund

Twelve, what a ponce.

It nearly comes right out of her damn mouth, when she catches sight of that bright-white armor. Fuck, even for the elezen of Ishgard, presumably likelier than anyone to fight in the snow, it's a shouting beacon, by her reckoning. Like it's begging to be stained with blood and dirt and soot in the first battle he gets to. White is for those fancy bastards who can afford to keep it - on anyone else, it turns grey in short order.

She takes a breath and unclenches her jaw, doing her best to turn her attention away again. It's not like this one's taking up space, or really doing anything. If not for the inevitably clanking, she wouldn't have known he was there. And, well, elezen all sort of have those punchable faces, don't they? Something about towering over everyone while being thin as reeds lends itself to looking down their noses at people. They're not the only ones... and it's only a touch their own fault.

So Roh breathes out and lets it go, though she doesn't let it stop her from keeping an eye on this fellow as he moves.

Only... the first thing she sees has her blinking in surprise. The decoration had been hidden at first, but it's still there when she opens her eyes again; delicate white flowers, tucked into his hair.

... If he is a ponce, he's an interesting one.

( @shieldbcund Thanks for the ask! )

[mochigobrrrrrrr]

Photo study

Lately, I found myself taking time to slow down and pay attention to certain things, namely my camera and how to direct the viewers eyes. This was a practice gpose with two curtain props and the help of two friends of mine.

I have @haurchefants and @shieldbcund to thank. <3

[syerraffxiv]

Cuddling by the fire after a long day...

ft. @shieldbcund ♥

[shieldbcund]

𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬    𝐁𝐢𝐨     𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧

𝐀 𝐏𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫. 𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐭?

𝔸𝕝𝕝 𝕗𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖𝕤 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 @𝕜𝕖𝕞𝕦𝕖𝕝𝕖​

[crimsonfluidessence]

Junelezen Day 17: More Heroes

Bathed in the warm glow, you follow them into darkness, And each obstacle is felled like you've not seen in a long time. We push, we bleed, we restore light to the land- together. As you raise your sword and rush to your place in the battle, tell me once more, Who are they which stand by you? Have you seen a new dawn, or merely the same sunrise as always? Creature of the shadow, answer my call to arms, Who are you? Here in the darkest hour as the sun sets once more, Who are you? Who are you really, now?

@kainenmarlowe @shieldbcund

[house-vulort]

Day 19 Friends

“I still remember you from when I first came to the Shroud, you were the little courier who loved to listen to my stories. Gods, the years sure have past!”

Ft @shieldbcund as Elouan Sauveterre

[way-to-the-future]

seven items // Castor Arendt

I. SIX PISTOLS

Three pairs of pistols of an antique design - flintlock with tempered mythrite barrels, modified to fire both ceruleum and aethersand shells. Their craftsmanship is impressive, with small stylings in silver and gold on the butt and the barrel. They’ve seen years of use, but are well cared for - Castor performs maintenance obsessively.

“From my father. Rare that one of his gifts to me should see such use.”

II. KERCHIEF

A simple cloth is more than just that; it’s in the way Castor carries himself. What he is prepared to do. He’s a professional, not a thug; a man worth respecting, not the dregs of the street. Plus, marksmanship is dirty business.

“A gentleman is always prepared.”

III. SPANNER

Nothing quite says engineering like the ability to apply torque at the drop of a hat. Like all his tools, this one is well-maintained - even if the heavy, abraded head seems to have been employed outside of its primary use case, judging by faded dark red stains.

“Most of my work involves taking things apart, not putting them back together. A wrench suits.”

IV. SWORD

Like his other weapons, this long sword has seen significant modification to meet Castor’s needs. Its light and well-balanced enough to be wielded one handed - provided you have Castor’s strength - without compromising its edge or durability. Fine, layered steel seems to have been aetherochemically treated, giving it its strange dark sheen. Recently, Castor has been making modifications to the guard - what he intends is hard to say, but it looks as though the hilt has been retooled to contain some kind of mechanism.

“Who doesn’t like a good row, every once in a while? This beauty helps me to keep my options open.”

V. CHARMS

Recently, Castor has taken to wearing a plain necklace with two carved charms - one wooden, the other smooth stone. The designs of the patterns are different enough to suggest two different makers.

“They’re gifts. It would be rude not to use gifts.”

VI. CANISTERS

Handmade crude iron cylinders, treated to contain a small amount of unprocessed ceruleum. Castor rarely carries more than a few, but he uses them to deadly effect as incendiary grenades. 

“It might be a bit gruesome, but no one is going to argue the effectiveness of Garlean fire used on Garleans.”

VII. EARRINGS

More baubles than any one man could ever reasonably need. Jewels, precious metals, rendered in hoops, loops, chains, studs, and bars - each one as intricate as the last. He wears them well, and frequently toys with them when there’s something on his mind.

“A little something to set myself apart. Many, little somethings.”

Tagged by: @yshai-tia (thank you bud!)

Tagging: @placesyoucallhome @seenovistaprint @blue-hazewhite-light @shadowburgers @ffxiv-sunderedsouls @an-honest-waltz @twofaced-xiv @sharlayanwanderer @shieldbcund. If I didn’t tag you and you want to do this, please do and tag me in it! new friends are around so I’d love to know who to tag in the future :>

[kemuele]

Made a final fantasy side-blog, so all that AU stuff will be moved over to it! @shieldbcund

[syerraffxiv]

An afternoon picnic while working at the apiary.

ft. @shieldbcund ♥

[crimsonfluidessence]

Bonus Content

Princely screens thanks to a pose @shieldbcund​ made because WHY THE FUCK NOT

This outfit is just really pretty and cool okay

[crimsonfluidessence]

Prompt 22: Fluster

Content Warning: Shadowbringers Spoilers

When would people start making sense?

The answer was apparently never. People just didn’t think. All it took was some attractive individual to sweep them off their feet emotionally, and no one understood that infatuation wasn’t the same thing as love. This was a fact the perpetually shut off Esredes knew well, but no one around him seemed to.

“Alastor,” Esredes had tried to tell his foolish Miqo’te friend when he got back from rescuing his latest boyfriend from being tempered for the Ascians. He even put on a smile and that delicate tone, he was not upset in the slightest like he had been in the past when it was Haurchefant. “Are you sure you want to get married… this soon? You don’t want to take it a little slower, you know, give it some time so he can… readjust? This is a big commitment, and you haven’t exactly been able to talk recently, or you know… live normally.�� But no, Alastor insisted. Their souls proved they were meant to be together. Esredes wanted to groan. “Your soul also dated a man who wanted to kill everyone, and you killed him.” Esredes said. “Just because you were compatible in a past life doesn’t mean your reincarnations are.” And so they were married. Esredes ultimately shut his mouth and just enjoyed the outdoor scenery of the Shroud, but he couldn’t help but sigh to himself. There really was nothing he could do to convince that Miqo’te to think properly before he acted.

This just happened over, and over again.

The earlier phases of the Iceheart movement. A couple allies had been captured, so had many civilians and uninvolved, and a Garlean base turned out to be at the center of it trying to perform experiments with the blood on people. So his people destroyed it— or more accurately, the scientist at the head of its brother did, along with the four other Garleans who turncoated with him.

What a pickle indeed. It wasn’t a situation where you could just execute someone who helped you- but did the man’s seemingly genuine apology about following his sister really make up for all the people permanently disfigured? Not really. So he tried an idea slipped into his head, even though he wasn’t sure it was a sound one. “Levi,” Esredes said to the man when he caught him at a good moment. “I have an idea as to how we can test the genuineness of Quincy. You should get him emotional and see what he says under pressure.” Despite kidnapping the man, Levi kept claiming Quincy cared for him and it was more his sister, even taking his own eye out to give him a chance to escape and be rescued by Esredes’ people. And there was little denying such drastic measures, but Esredes needed information, and it was hard to be certain merely asking the man was revealing everything. Levi was hesitant, but he agreed. He seemed pissed at Esredes afterward for it. And then he came back to him telling him they ‘worked it out’. Esredes was grateful until the others clarified what exactly ‘worked it out’ meant, and then he felt sick to his stomach. He had not asked that of him. Not with the person who he was a captive of. What the fuck, Levi. What the fuck.

Still, he probably didn’t get as sick to his stomach as he did that one time far more recently. When a Dragoon woman who introduced herself as Elodie had approached him at his previous workplace, and talked to him all about how she wanted to help people like him but wasn’t a counselor, merely wanted to make people smile, he had an idea he thought at the time was a good one. He gave her a couple names, names of people he knew he couldn’t get to, and sent her off to see what would happen.

The regret filled him like an ocean when he witnessed the man propose to her in front of him at a party. She threw her arms around Esredes later, thanking him for being such a ‘matchmaker’, despite the fact she had just said yes to who had to be some kind of sociopath who wanted to kill Esredes.

Why was it always the cheery and high energy types in particular? And Esredes could say nothing for fear of his own life. You simply didn’t play with Dragoons, they had a worse kill switch than he could ever.

At least he managed to save another from disaster at least once. At least Yulionne could realize, even through the harshest of methods, how she was making a mistake being with Murielle, that a heretic and Inquisitor could never be together. Maybe a heretic and two fellow monsters that were less annoying than him could be together, even if he had threatened or tried to kill both of them, as was the case with Heilyn that Esredes reluctantly came to accept later. Though not before telling Divah that he would never be with someone who literally stabbed him in the back, even if she couldn’t die. And maybe a forced heretic could be with a loyalist, as was the case with Murielle’s son falling for a woman who was hiding the blood. Unlike Murielle, it actually changed him, and he meant his word to not go against people like her ever again. Elouan and Baptiste had Esredes saying nothing at first, seeing an Elezen and Miqo’te together, but Esredes put his original feelings in a coffin and threw them into the ocean when he saw how much they really completed each other in their respective emotional issues. Yes, all right, it all seemed as illogical as the rest at first, but it eventually made sense.

He didn’t even bother to warn Vlamont about Seraphiaux, he knew Vlamont wouldn’t understand that his little brother was incapable of loving another person at the time, but even Vlamont sort of listened later on, when Seraphiaux came back. They took it slow, they felt out if they could try again or not. And Esredes said nothing as they slipped upstairs to have an alone moment at a Masquerade. It was their journey to take.

But most of the rest still didn’t make sense. At some point, he had to accept that people would continue to be spontaneous and illogical with their feelings, falling for the worst possible choices, and all he could do was keep trying to prevent fires before they happened.

At least he knew better for himself. As he continued to spark nothing at the thought of romance, even with his beloved Alise, he knew the world needed certain mistakes not made. And he was proud to help it out by not making them.

—

@thecalmnessandthestorms / @heartofthefury Heilyn, Alastor, Seraphiaux, Murielle, Trystan (unnamed mention), Lisette (unnamed mention)

@eternal-finis Divah, Yulionne, Vlamont, Ketuseki (unnamed mention)

@momokarp Levi, Alise, Quincy

Mystel Elodie

Arius Ivarault (unnamed mention)

@shieldbcund Elouan

@serdoctor Baptiste

[crimsonfluidessence]

The holiday season's in swing and an elf welcomes its effects. An ornately-wrapped gift is carried to one Rosemond's door, where it's dropped off with a note. The gift's wrapped in a pastel yellow paper, one bearing flowers and 'happy holidays' in neat script. Within is a wire 'sculpture', a tree with leaves of small, folded papers. Each one seems to bear round, slanted script resembling Elouan's. They're words of affirmation, love, praise, and more. (-shieldbcund) ♥

As Esredes tears off the paper carefully to see what could possibly be below such a peculiarly shaped gift, his eyes widen softly. He spends a lot of time carefully reading over each piece of paper, brushing his fingers against the bottoms of them carefully to orient them properly to his sight. The more he reads, the more his eyes begin to tear up. Thank you, my sweetest Sunflower...

[crimsonfluidessence]

I said I was retiring this outfit into oblivion but also that feeling when you realize that Esredes is going to learn Absolutely Nothing from the last time he went down to Ul’dah just to commit crime and is going to do exactly that to fuck up his friend @shieldbcund​‘s shitty manipulative abusive exes and now you’re just like

AW HELL YEAH, HITMEN ARCS.

BECAUSE SOME THINGS DON’T CHANGE.

However, it’s not a potential hitman arc if you don’t relax afterwards like you didn’t just kill 8 people in a single day so I also had to visually shitpost and design a vacation leisure outfit because it’s Hot Down There

But killing people is hard so also take Esrey and his friend’s boyfriend ( @serdoctor ) relaxing at the beach after their hitman vacation because god do I love these two’s weird bro relationship and them just embracing their sadistic tendencies to be protective over their loved ones when it matters

[way-to-the-future]

Combat Mode: Castor

★★★★★★★★☆☆ —  strength ★★★★★★★★☆☆ —  offense ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆ —  defense ★★★★★★★☆☆☆ —  speed ★★★★★★★☆☆☆—  durability ★★★★★★★★★★ —   accuracy ★★★★★★★☆☆☆ —  agility ★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆ —  stamina ★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ —  teamwork ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆ —  stealth ★★★★★★★★☆☆ —  close combat         ★★★★★★★★★☆ —  bladed weapons ( swords, dagger/s, lances? ) ★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ —  blunt weapons ( club/s, staff/s )   ★★★★★★★★☆☆ —  ranged weapons ( archery, gun/s ) ★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ —  magic ★★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆ —  traps/setups ★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ —  medic

–Overview–

Castor typifies the sword and pistol fighter - versatile, agile enough to aim on the run and wield a long sword one-handed, but lacking in defensive capabilities outside of his capacity to dodge and a few protective spells. He follows more or less a single tactical plan with variations as necessary: unload all six of his specially modified and maintained single shot hand cannons in a matter of seconds, and then close and finish what needs finishing with his sword. In a more protracted or long range engagement, he makes sue of a scoped repeater rifle; he also has a number of small explosives in his kit for use in dire straits. In and out of combat, he can call on a minor mending incantation, purge toxins from his system with magic, or form a protective shell of aether around his body for a few seconds - though any of these will sap his limited aether reserves to a varying degree.

–Any lasting combat injuries?–

Castor is one of the exceptionally, exceptionally lucky few who has... mostly recovered from the injuries he’s sustained over the years. He’s been shot, cut, beat up, and burned, but the worst he’s come away with are some very deep, ugly scars and a few instances of mostly short-term ceruleum poisoning. He swears by his health, though - even if he racks up quite a bill from the Phrontistery. 

–Fighting Style–

commander / duelist / honorable / dishonorable / would have others do their fighting /  stealthy  / long-ranged / melee / technological / sorcery / superhuman abilities / has fought in an illegal tourney / a lover of fighting / a hater of fighting  / cowardly /  reckless / strategic / uses underhanded tricks  / renowned for their skill / trained (sword and shield) /  untrained  / keeps skills secret / won a battle / lost a battle / ruthless / merciful

–Traits–

╳   flaws

moody | short-tempered | emotionally unstable | whiny | controlling | conceited | possessive | paranoid | liar | impatient | cowardly | bitter | selfish | power-hungry | greedy | lazy | judgmental | forgetful | impulsive | spiteful | stubborn | sadistic | petty | unlucky

♔   strengths

honest | trustworthy | thoughtful | caring | brave | patient | selfless | ambitious | tolerant | lucky | intelligent | confident | focused | humble | generous | merciful | observant | wise | clever | charming | cheerful | optimistic | decisive | adaptive | calm | loyal

Tagged by: @placesyoucallhome​ (thanks bud!)

Tagging: Hm, let’s go for it @seenovistaprint​ @ffxiv-sunderedsouls​ @yshai-tia​ @blue-hazewhite-light​ @sharlayanwanderer​ @twofaced-xiv​ @poppi-fields​ @meandering-mind​ @shieldbcund​ (if this aint your speed no pressure! and if it is your speed and I didnt tag you, revenge yourself upon me by tagging me in the version you do!)

[way-to-the-future]

🙃- For a lighter, slightly embarrassing secret -shieldbcund

(Will do for Castor, since this is one of the ones he can do)

Castor sniffs, looking up from the rifle he’s cleaning. He narrows his eyes a moment. “Well, I don’t have much in the way of slightly embarrassing, but I’ll see what I can do.” He ponders a moment, then returns with a bemused stare. “When I was younger, they used to call me snowdrop. Hated the name so much that I used to grab the flowers off stalls on the street, stomp them into the dust.” Castor purses his lips.

(That’s a little heavy for slightly embarrassing Castor. tysm for the ask friend!)

[way-to-the-future]

God/goddess/deity? -shieldbcund

Perched atop a steed broken by his own hand, he rides before that most fearsome of chariots, ever in the watchful gaze of his mother, she who gives what is due. His approach signals both woe and weal, for it is his magmatic gaze and hard-won esteem that forestall death. In his right hand, he bears the murdering spear and in his left, the conquering bow. Where he rides, soon are heard the exultant laughter of Enyo, sacker of cities, and the shrill cries of pitiless Eris. Behind them, his divine brother makes ready for the slaughter in a cart driven by his sons, fear and panic. Yet that fearsome warrior did not share a womb with the rider. In this respect, beauty and majesty were his true sisters; joy and sweetness his adored brother. He loves them well, but among them his youngest sister remembered best their birthright, she who with awful wit and the haft of her bloodied axe drew the dread price of obligation and vows unfulfilled – and for this reason she is dearest to him.

               He recalls, fondly and frequently, their youth in the unwalled city of his birth, despite the bitter pain of a mortal father’s heartbreak and a mortal mother’s disdain, despite the hard lessons that earned him the right to call himself a man, a warrior, and a god. The sorrow of such memories pales before the truth of his lineage, for his mother is the wrath of justice and the venomous hate of the wronged, and his father is thundering pride, royal prerogative and appetite unchallenged. He dreams with an as-yet boyish heart of the glories that he can win in their name, and more importantly, in his own; for he has inherited his father’s arrogance as surely as his mother’s fury.

               Though he is never so loved as his twin, as desired as one sister or as loathed as another, he is all these things to some degree. Only his siblings can lift the veil that blinds his better senses when his spirit is called to battle. He is the lesser part of a whole, yet he fancies himself more complete by his rage, the impetus of stalwart rancor that lets him master stallions and by which he won his inheritance. He is fond of horses as any man of Thessaly, for they are haughty and unruly creatures like he. He hears the prayers of those who wander unfamiliar roads and those who seek to prove themselves by the strength of their arm or their keen wit; he heals as surely he harms, and once gained, his trust is as sure a boon as any blade.

               Each second day, he walks the world as a man again, a blessing and a debt incurred for his youthful theft. In those moments when the glory of his mantle recedes, he finds that he misses his sisters; he longs for the days when they hunted and wrestled together. He wishes he could have saved them from grief and desolation, and that they might have changed their fate as had he and his brother. To grieve is a mortal reflex, and one of which he takes great advantage in those seldom dark hours of silence when he can walk, not run, and dream of what might have been, rather than what will be.

(Tysm for the ask!)