#the former relies on her agility and precision

[dailycharacteroption]

Heavyweight Skirmisher Operative (Operative Alternate Class Feature)

(art by frozenbunn on DeviantArt)

It’s easy to assume that all operatives are catsuit-wearing sneaky types that specialize in agility, light weaponry, and stealth. However, if you’ve ever thought about a lot of elite teams, not everyone fits that mold, and being an agent of any sort of group is just as much having the training to leverage your talents, rather than fitting into any one neat and confined box.

Hailing from the Interstellar Species book and heavily associated with larger, more ungainly alien species like dragonkin, these heavyweight skirmishers learn how to leverage their strength and might, rather than raw agility, and favor bigger and stronger weaponry, but they retain the various specializations and skills that differentiate them from soldiers and other heavier hitters.

They might still be stealthy, but more akin to a sudden summer squall than a barely noticed breeze, or they might be one of the more social sorts of operative, leveraging their weight class as part of their intimidation factor, and so on.

Either way, these sneaks and agents are definitely a whole new breed than what you might be used to with this class.

At their core, these operatives rely on strength rather than agility, and this shows, for they favor larger and more powerful melee weapons, as well as heavier armors. They can use any weapon that is not too slow or too imprecise with their trick attacks, though the additional damage is increased at a much slower rate than other operatives. What’s more, the damage they deal on average is a bit better as they can reroll progressively more and more of their bonus damage dice.

They can choose to become proficient in heavy armors, and learn to overcome their sluggishness with practice.

Additionally, if they attack repeatedly with their weapon and hit both times, they can apply their trick attack as if they had made the skill check. What’s more, they become more accurate when attacking repeatedly than most, though they miss out on attacking thrice in a turn.

This option is great if you want the skills and tricks of the operative while being a bit more combat focused, sort of like a combat rogue variant of the normal operative. You miss out on multiple attacks per round and on evasion, but if you plan on standing on the front lines, whether it be with a big melee weapon or gun, this may be what you’re looking for.

Obviously this option was meant for bigger characters to give them a way to be an operative without feeling hampered by their bulk. That being said, I stand by what I said about different operatives achieving their goals based on their strengths and preferences, because the operative is very much about that, the application of skill and precision. It doesn’t matter what those skills specifically are. After all, part of the gimmick of the operative is finding ways to use skills in clever ways, such as adding different skills to the options for when you make trick attacks, and so on.

Composed of ex-cons, former mercenaries and others, VaxasCorp’s “problem-solver” team is kept in line not just by their paychecks but also various forms of blackmail that they have on all members. Take Slugger, the team’s heavy-hitter. The company keeps constant tabs on his daughter, ready to threaten her if he puts a toe out of line. He’d do anything if it meant getting her, and himself, out from under their thumb.

Though she is a mountain of a woman, Kova has always found she preferred to work with computers, though her raw strength comes in handy in rough company. Now that she’s out of the military, she seeks a new career that makes use of both of her skills.

Mostly mouth and infamous for their society of dominance over the weak, xaarbs are not thought of as a subtle people. Some, however, find there is much to learn from the complex ways of other peoples. Traditionalists call them sneaks and skulks, but they still show their xaarbish pride in the way they fight.

#starfinder #alternate class feature #operative #heavyweight skirmisher operative #human #dragonkin #xaarb #Interstellar species

[fallenautumm]

if you're doing writing requests, i wouldn't mind seeing symmetra and soldier 76 interacting! platonically, of course lol. i don't think i've seen any writing that even had them in the same room for longer than a paragraph, so i think it would be interesting!

( Sure!, Sadly i didn't got any Info on what exactly you wanted to see/read. So thats why i got a little creative ^^ also sorry for taking so long 💔 )

A Hope for Peace

Symmetra had been sent on a mission to investigate a strange disturbance in the heart of a major city. She had been working alone, as usual, carefully assessing the situation and gathering information. As she approached the source of the disturbance, she heard the sound of gunfire in the distance.

Curious, she moved closer to investigate, and that's when she caught sight of him: Soldier 76, The founder of Overwatch. She had heard of him before, of course. He was a legendary hero, a former soldier who had fought in wars all over the world. But she had never seen him in person.Symmetra watched from a safe distance as Soldier 76 took down a group of armed mercenaries. He moved with agility and precision, his aim deadly accurate.

She was impressed, but also wary. She knew that anyone with that kind of skill could be a danger to her.As Soldier 76 finished off the last of the mercenaries, he turned and caught sight of Symmetra. For a moment, they just stared at each other across the battlefield. Then, without a word, Soldier 76 approached her.Symmetra tensed, ready to defend herself if necessary.

But as Soldier 76 drew closer, he slowed his steps and held out a hand in greeting. "You must be Symmetra or Miss Satya Vaswani," he said, his voice gruff but friendly. "I've heard a lot about you."Symmetra hesitated for a moment, then reluctantly took his hand.

"Likewise," she said, her voice cool and composed.They stood there for a moment, sizing each other up. Symmetra could sense that Soldier 76 was assessing her, trying to determine whether she was a friend or a foe. She did the same, trying to gauge his intentions.Finally, Soldier 76 spoke again. "I don't usually work with others," he said.

"But it looks like we're both after the same thing here."Symmetra raised an eyebrow. "And what, exactly, is that?"Soldier 76 gestured to the chaos around them. "Stability," he said. "Peace. Order. That's what we both want, isn't it?"Symmetra considered his words. It was true, she did want those things. It was her wish to rebuild this City by any costs. And if Soldier 76 was willing to work with her, perhaps they could achieve them together.

"Very well," she said, nodding. "Let's work together."And so, Symmetra and Soldier 76 joined forces. They fought side by side, taking down enemy after enemy. They worked in perfect synchronicity, their skills complementing each other's. And as they fought, they began to realize that they had more in common than they had originally thought.

By the end of the mission, Symmetra and Soldier 76 had formed a bond. They respected each other's abilities, and they both knew that they could rely on each other in a fight. As they parted ways, Symmetra couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for the old soldier. And she knew that, in the future, they would cross paths again.

#overwatch oneshot #overwatch blizzard #symmetra #ow2 #soldier 76 #jack morrison #satya vaswani

[journey-to-the-attic]

more kitsune ik headcanons?

(from the ik is yae's sister ask)

i'd be lying if i hadn't had more thoughts about it, so sure thing!!

according to the wikipedia page, the number of tails a kitsune has depends on their age and wisdom - so ik, being pretty young (by yokai standards) only has three

she probably has an electro vision too, and she has a similar pink aesthetic to her big sister because i'm just a sucker for pastel pink palettes

(though it'd also be funny if she ended up with like, a geo vision, but kept the pink aesthetic anyway)

like miko, she has a fox form and it's TINY, she could fit into a single palm of your hand

she was born either during or just before the cataclysm, so she was super young during it - and miko was extremely insistent on keeping her away from the battles at all times, so ik doesn't actually know much about everything that happened

she did meet makoto once, but spent most of her time with miko and ei

though there was one time that ik accidentally got caught up in the filth that the cataclysm was contaminating inazuma with

one of her ears is all still tattered because of it

she was born with miko's purple eyes and pink hair, but now her hair is more black-into-pink, and the eye on the same side of her tattered ear is now brown (also as a result of the filth thing)

(this is basically my in-universe reasoning to be able to keep kitsune ik resembling original ik)

her fox form has the tattered ear too, and where her fur used to fade into white, it fades into black instead

ik doesn't mind it, she thinks her colours look cool as hell in fox form

she also loves snuggling with anyone she's familiar with and getting scritches behind the ears in fox form

(you've got to be careful you don't squish her though)

she's a lot more friendly than miko, and since she doesn't share the same liking of 'watching people squirm', she's seen as the safer sister to be around

she's generally well-respected, but oftentimes people (mostly older men) don't take her seriously because she's 'just a little girl' - even though she's almost certainly older than them

i imagine she'd be best friends with ayaka - she'd be seen as someone with status befitting a friend of the shirasagi himigemi, so it wouldn't look too weird to the public, and also her personality means that she can help ayaka have fun in private!

miko doesn't mind this, but she's not too happy about the fact that ik has also befriended ayato through his sister

ik's 'thing' would be that she's super quick and agile - like, as a playable, her kit would contain stuff that boosts movement/atk speed, and she'd probably have an alternate sprint

maybe for her burst she'd go tiny fox form and like, run electro loops around the enemy, which immobilises and debuffs them for a period

she's always climbing trees and stuff, and she knows all the best hiding places around inazuma city (which she tells sayu about so that she can find somewhere to sleep in peace)

she has a lot of friends who all think she's pretty swell across all the islands

she's often on the move between them to oversee the various shrines, and (in seirai and tsurumi's cases) to observe the storms/mists and make sure things are relatively under control

because she's so well-acquainted and generally liked, she actually serves a pretty important role in the peace talks following the abolishment of the vision hunt decree

it would've be around then that she befriended gorou

gorou thinks of himself as the older brother figure since ik looks younger and he's more sensible, but ik, who often defends him form miko, thinks he's her little brother, actually

after the peace talks, ik starts visiting watatsumi, usually to visit gorou - the islanders are cautious, since they all worship orobashi and she's a well-known follower of the raiden shogun

but ik's very polite and listens enthusiastically when gorou and some other watatsumi shrine maidens explain their worship rituals to her

after she participates in some shrine-cleaning and ceremonies with commendable accuracy and respect, everyone decides she's alright

while ei was in the plane of euthymia, ik would pray to her every night before she went to bed

it always followed a pattern: recounting her day, telling her what the effects of the vision hunt and sakoku decrees are, telling her what she'd left at her shrines that day, and asking her to come visit miko soon because 'please miss ei she misses you lots'

ei never replied, but she did hear some of the prayers, and it was actually kind of comforting

miko loves her baby sister to pieces so she spoils ik a lot

she can tolerate being insulted herself, because she can very easily turn the tables and embarrass the insulter - but sometimes the insulter decides to go for her perceived weak spot and insult her little sister instead

if they wanted a reaction, they got it. they also just got fried by a giant lightning bolt but to be honest, if they were dumb enough to insult ik in front of miko, they kind of had it coming

ik's also fully capable of frying you herself because she's very well-trained in combat, both by her sister and by the allies back during the battles of the cataclysm

anyway, in summary: kitsune ik is Baby

but then again, all iks are

#as for weapon she'd probably be either polearm or claymore #the former relies on her agility and precision #the latter relies on her ability to just fling the claymore about at very high momentums #kitsune ik #answering asks #anon asks #i forgot to mention this but miko and ayato would probably have silent competitions over who's the better older sibling #like ik will be chatting with ayaka and ayato will go 'my my it sounds like your sister's neglecting to teach you something... allow me' #and ik will return to the narukami shrine and excitedly tell miko about it #and miko will just be like [lightning strike] 'that son of a bitch' #ik also frequently hangs out with itto because they just love each other's energy #bc kitsune ik's a lot more lively than most iks #(though still chill) #on a scale of belphie to mammon (1-10) she's like 6 #genshin impact #jtta aus #i was going to talk about kitsune ik in the devildom but then i got carried away with the genshin #another time

[tangledbea]

Promise or no promise, Fredric had an obligation, a duty, as King, to help Varian. Regard of Varian’s crimes personally effecting him, Varian is still his subject, and Fredric had a duty to him. Even moreso when you remember Fredric actively cut off Varian’s resources. I hav no doubt that Fredric acted in his emotions than being fair with Varian, though we see in “No Time Like The Past” that young Lance and the Stabbingtons were treated just as unfairly. Fredric’s system is corrupt.

His system being corrupt is precisely why he wasn't about to change how things were done just for Varian. Even before the canon of the series came into play, Eugene was going to be hung for being a thief. From what we can tell, he wasn't a particularly violent person, usually using cunning, smooth talking, and speed and agility to escape any uncomfortable situation, be it with the law or with thugs who wanted to pound him. Eugene doesn't even carry a weapon on him, and had to rely on the frying pan Rapunzel gave him to defend himself against armed guards who were extremely willing to use force to detain him. And yet he was going to be hung. Even before he stole the crown, he was wanted dead or alive, all because of theft.

I have always had trouble reconciling that the movie's narration called Frederic and Arianna "beloved" when their system involved the death penalty for theft. (Also, Eugene was getting marched straight to the gallows, but the Stabbingtons - who were also wanted dead or alive and are significantly more violent than Eugene - were just sitting in their cell. Was this because he was 'caught' with the crown, even though they were involved in its theft, too?) If those who were prosperous loved them while those who were downtrodden did not, then the whole picture isn't being looked at.

And then the series comes along and adds to that that it's directly Frederic's fault because of his mourning Rapunzel. That's even worse. I could frown at but vaguely understand the mindset of "it's been like this for generations, it didn't occur to me to change it," but making it his fault directly and yet attempting to paint him in a sympathetic light just doesn't sit well with me.

And this is why I like that we see Rapunzel actively trying to make a change. She's friends with too many ruffians, thugs, and criminals/former criminals for me to think that she wouldn't actively try to fix the system, starting at the bottom, and prevent situations wherein people felt the need to become criminals in the first place.

Lady Caine was underutilized, and by her last appearance, she's being a criminal for the fun of it and seems to have forgotten her motivation. She is a prime example of how a broken system just creates bigger cracks, and how pretending those cracks don't exist because "they don't matter" just weakens the structure.

#Tangled #Tangled the Series #King Frederic #Rapunzel #Lady Caine #TTS #Analysis #Answered

[wynsnerdyrambles]

What do you think is the focal point of each breath? Like how thunder breathing seems to focus on speed, what are the focuses of the other known breaths? Love breathing seems to rely on the user's flexibility and insect breathing seems to rely on agility.

Oooohhhh the Breathing Techniques. I'm a sucker for sword stuff, and one of my favorite details in any story that makes prominent use of swords is the various forms of swordplay that exist in said world. So, of course the Breathing techniques in KNY were one of my favorite elements. So, we're gonna talk about them all.

Sun Breathing:

Sun Breathing, as the original form of the breathing techniques seemed a very logical place to start in our analysis of the focus points of each technique. Honestly though, Sun Breathing might be the easiest to identify. All other forms of breathing were derived from Sun Breathing, and as each of them focuses on more singular attributes, it would make sense that Sun Breathing is in general, a more holistic approach to swordplay. It relies on Yoriichi's Zen like state to function at its best, and is shown to feature a variety of techniques within its wheelhouse. It is the whole body, mind, and spirit, perfectly aligning into the sword strikes of someone in a Zen state.

Moon Breathing:

Moon Breathing is the only one of the original derivatives of Sun Breathing to not pass down into the repertoire of the Demon Slayer Corps in the form that we see it in, as it was only practiced by Michikatsu, who defected to the other side, becoming the demon Kokushibou. This one is a tricky one to pinpoint what's going on, as in the only form we see it in, the form has been tampered with so much by Kokushibou's Blood Demon Art so greatly, it shows very little resemblance to its former self. So, instead of analyzing the direct techniques to determine a focus, we'll instead take the thematic approach. Michikatsu was one of the first Demon Slayers to begin using Total Concentration Breathing after Yoriichi introduced it to them, and given the name of the style referencing the moon, which more dimly reflects the light of the sun, we can perhaps infer something along these lines: Moon Breathing requires much of the precise swordplay that Sun Breathing does, yet is lacking in the Zen that a true wielder of Sun Breathing must possess. It is a dimmer reflection of Sun Breathing's capabilities. In fact, given that there was some decay of the true forms of Sun Breathing as it was learned by the Kamado family, I would say that Michikatsu's original Moon Breathing might resemble the Hinokami Kagura.

Water Breathing:

Water Breathing seems to focus on the basics of swordplay, with a distinct emphasis on curved strikes and slashes. We know that Water Breathing is one of the more widely practiced styles in the Demon Slayer Corps as of the main story, with many different cultivators, as it is noted to be easy to learn. However, despite the relative ease of learning this style, I believe it is likely one of the more difficult styles to master, and I believe that the only true masters of the style that we observe in the story are Urokodaki and Tomioka, though I believe both Sabito and Makomo could have mastered the style had they lived.

Thunder Breathing:

Thunder Breathing emphasizes finishing off your opponent with a single strike, and because of this, places a heavy focus on both the art of drawing the sword, (Iaijutsu) and placing a lot of focus on the legs. (not me just barely realizing that Jigoro lost his leg, and therefore could no longer practice the forms effectively, hence his retirement). There is a lot of layering to the techniques of Thunder Breathing, as we know that mastery of the first form is key to mastery of all further forms. We also can see through Zenitsu that the first form is easily modifiable, accounting for both the sixfold, eightfold, and Godspeed variations, which I believe he developed himself, before using that base ground to develop the seventh form.

Stone Breathing:

Stone Breathing seems tailor made for intense physical strength and unconventional weapon choices. None of the five known forms of Stone Breathing seem like they would work at all for a traditional swordsman, and unlike many of the other forms, seem like they would require the user to be pretty physically powerful to pull off. So the focus here seems to be on pure physical power, alongside unique weapons.

Wind Breathing:

Wind Breathing is incredibly reminiscent of a real life sword style, namely Jigen Ryu. This style holds a high focus on high stances, as well as delivering an intense first strike, with teachings of the practice dictating that a second strike is not even to be considered. As far as things specific to Wind Breathing, the intensity and frequency of attacks should be noted. There seems to be a certain rough aggression to the style, and while that may merely be Sanemi's own personal take on the style, given we have no other sources, I would say that rough aggression is one of the focuses of the style, alongside its common ground with Jigen Ryu.

Flame Breathing:

Flame Breathing seems to focus on the energetic, passionate motion of a flame. However, that energy is channeled in a very precise manner, almost akin to the singular flicker of a candle's flame. Kyojuro's movements are energetic, but also incredibly precise. The movements are tight and controlled, but also have that passion and momentum of a fire burning. We see that the style must be incredibly precise by the way Kyojuro is able to use his sword just perfectly to deflect some of Akaza's punches, without damaging the blade at all. Flame breathing also features incredible variety in the types of strikes it employs, from the more straightforward slash of Unknowing Fire, to the almost defensive circular movement employed in Blooming Flame Undulation. Just like how a fire can be completely unpredictable, Flame Breathing seems to have a technique for every combat situation, rendering the user unpredictable in their own right.

Now we move on to the breathing styles that aren't directly derived from Sun Breathing.

Flower Breathing:

Flower Breathing was derived from Water Breathing at some point in the past long enough ago that a Sakura tree planted by the first wielder of the style is quite large in the main story. Flower Breathing places a heavy emphasis on observational skills, knowing your opponent, obvserving them and their environment to maximize chances of defeating them. Because of this focus on the gathering of information, Flower Breathing's techniques seem to be dual-purpose, serving as both methods of attack, and of evasion. The eyes are an important body focus for users of this style, as masters of the style tend to have very naturally good eyesight, as well as the final form, Equinoctial Vermillion Eye, raising the user's vision to such a high level that the world around them seems to move in slow motion.

Insect Breathing:

Insect Breathing is directly derived from Flower Breathing, and was the personal creation of Shinobu Kocho, the Insect Hashira. This style is quite unique among the Breathing Forms, as it is the only 3rd tier derivation from Sun Breathing that we know of, as well as focusing on an entirely different style of fighting than any other style. Given Shinobu's inability to cut off a demon's head, she has a uniquely designed sword, tailor made for piercing movements, rather than the traditional slashing movements. Speed is huge here, as well as taking the evasion elements of Flower Breathing and cranking it up to 11. After all, Shinobu's unique sword likely deals with additional fragility concerns, given it's function is essentially as a giant sword-shaped syringe. So, if Shinobu can inject her foe as quickly as possible, without risking a prolonged fight risking her sword's durability, that would be an ideal focus point for her unique fighting style.

Serpent Breathing:

Yet another derivative of Water Breathing, this style also seems to be the personal creation of one of the Hashira, namely Iguro Obanai. Serpent Breathing takes the 'flow' elements of Water Breathing and makes them the emphasis of the style. Obanai's sword is unique in that it's unique, but even Gotouge (who loves telling us the reasons why trivial details are the way they are) hasn't given us a reason why Obanai wields this unique blade. The blade is most similar in structure to an Indonesian Kris Blade, although with a much larger size. While there is no confirmed correlation, it seems to me that this style of sword would be at the very least, the optimal blade for Serpent Breathing. Serpent Breathing also likely incorporates Kaburamaru's role as a seeing-eye snake, likely avoiding making strikes too close to the body so as to avoid any accidental beheadings, as well as forms with very instinctual cues. In fact, of the derivatives, Serpent Breathing seems to be the closest related to its inspiration, likely only optimizing Water Breathing's styles to work best for Obanai.

Sound Breathing:

Somehow, this style is related to Thunder Breathing, although the styles seem completely different. This style makes heavy use of Uzui's njinja background, taking elements of that fighting style, and integrating them with the more conventional needs of the Corps' general fighting style. Mimicking the disorienting nature of sound and noise, Uzui makes use of small grenades, as well as his unique nunchuck swords, which notably have much larger blades than most standard Nichirin swords. This style is explosive and bombastic, and relies heavily on Tengen's unique ability to read the flow of a battle like a sheet of music. This style is pure chaos incarnate, and focuses on bringing the best out of Tengen's ninja training, as well as explosions.

Beast Breathing:

A personal style invented by Inosuke Hashibira, Beast Breathing is a distant relative of Wind Breathing. Making use of Inosuke's two jagged katana, excellent flexibility, and animal instinct, this breathing style is all rough edges and agression just barely channeled. Inosuke's excellent, animal-like sense of environmental awareness allows him to go full ham on aggression without needing to put much thought into an ambush, while also rendering him able to directly pinpoint a target in a large, chaotic crowd. None of these forms seem possible with only one sword, so it is necessary for any pupil of Inosuke-sama's to become a dual wielder like himself.

Mist Breathing:

Mist Breathing is a derivative of Wind Breathing, but seems more polished, making use of well refined swordplay, and streamlining the rough edges so key to Wind Breathing's identity. This is all for a good reason of course, for like the mist it evokes, this style is all about obscuring your movements and intent with your blade. In order to pull off feints, and other deceptive ploys with a blade, intense skill must be required to shift into the intended form with giving very few cues. Mist Breathing appears to be quite difficult to master, as the only known user of the style, Muichiro Tokito, is a literal genius with the sword. Mastery of Deceptive techniques as well as a refined grasp of swordplay is the focus of this style.

Love Breathing:

The personal creation of Mitsuri Kanroji, Love Breathing is derived from Flame Breathing, which she learned during her study with Kyojuro Rengoku. This style is incredibly personal, and it would take a miracle for someone to recreate it, given the perfect storm of Mitsuri's skillset. It takes the basics of energetic momentum focused on in Flame Breathing and multiplies it with Mitsuri's own flexibility, strength, and unique sword. It can be inferred through the flexibility of her sword that energetic momentum combined with intense flexibility is the key to this style.

And that about wraps up the breathing forms. Much like many real life fighting styles, these forms are very complex, and difficult to pin down to a single focus element. By giving a more holistic analysis of each style, I hope I was able to give you a sense of the essences of these fighting styles.

#an excuse to research sword stuff #probably more in depth than the ask really needed #kimetsu no yaiba #total concentration breathing #nichirin sword #kny meta

[juste-xiv]

JUSTE DELACROIX

Ⅰ.▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

◆ NAME

Juste Delacroix (Juste Monteclair)

◆ NICKNAMES

Flower boy, Little Lordling, Commander, Juste of the Gilded Dusk

◆ AGE

29

◆ RACE

Elezen

◆ GENDER

Male

◆ SEXUALITY 

Asexual

◆ MARITAL STATUS

Single and eternally oblivious

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Ⅱ.▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

◆ HAIR

Windswept platinum blonde

Never behaves

He swears it has a mind of its own

◆ EYES

Soft, cornflower blue

◆ HEIGHT

6’0”

◆ BUILD

Lithe

Broad shouldered

Compact and agile

Regal, dignified posture

While he’s softer than he used to be it’s apparent that he’s seen his fair share of combat

Surprisingly strong for his size

Totally aware he’s short by Elezen standards

◆ DISTINGUISHING FEATURES

Various battle scars all over his body

Prominent claw mark scarring on his right side, stretching from his hip bone to just under his rib cage

Dragon fire scarring on his left shoulder

◆ COMMON ACCESSORIES / IMPORTANT ITEMS

A simple pendant made from a piece of smooth, oval shaped snowflake obsidian worn on a leather cord around his neck

The only possession he brought with him when he left Ishgard 

PERSONAL / RELATIONSHIPS

Ⅲ.▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

◆ OCCUPATION

Botanist

Owns a small flower shop in Gridania

Former Knight, Negotiator and Political Figure (Currently in hiding)

◆ BIRTHPLACE

Ishgard

◆ RESIDENCE

Gridania

◆ ALIGNMENT

Neutral Good

◆ SIGNIFICANT OTHER

None

◆ CHILDREN

None

◆ PARENTS

Baron Vespasien Monteclair (Father, Disgraced Knight)

Baroness Céleste Monteclair (Mother, Noble Woman, Socialite, Maiden Name - Haillenarte)

◆ SIBLINGS

None

◆ OTHER RELATIVES

None

◆ PETS 

Sesame (Small, fawn coloured female lop-eared rabbit)

Kind of a terror

Way cuter than she has any business being

Uses that to her advantage/to get out of trouble

Fueled by dandelion greens and spite

Juste found the little rabbit injured one day while he was tending to his plants

Nursed her back to health and looked after her until she healed

Slight limp

Tried to release her back into the wild but she kept coming back

He ended up giving in and keeping her

PERSONALITY

Ⅳ.▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Warm and charming

Sharp wit, good sense of humor

Often uses said wit to deflect from things he doesn’t want to discuss

Contagious laugh

Poised, polite and refined

Gentle demeanor

Compassionate

Genuine

Wears his heart on his sleeve

Charismatic and outwardly confident

Hidden introvert

Passionate about learning

Has a mischievous streak

May not be the greatest at taking care of himself but he’s trying his best

Constantly sleepy

Needs to actually sleep

Sometimes stretches himself too thin or wears himself out trying to help others

More than a little bit self destructive in his own ways

Guilt complex

Post-traumatic stress disorder relating to his service as a knight

Tries his best to hide said post-traumatic stress disorder because he doesn’t want to worry anyone

At times there is a quiet sadness to him

Can be distant or guarded under certain situations

Avoids talking about his past like the plague

 BACKGROUND

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             Even though Juste is still relatively young and he doesn’t often speak of his past he’s lived quite an eventful life. The Ishgardian noble is a former knight, negotiator and political figure born into House Monteclair, a minor house under House Haillenarte. His father, the head of the house, fled during the attack where the Dravanian Horde overtook Stone Vigil and due to the Baron’s cowardice their house hasn’t always had a favourable reputation. Since his childhood the weight was put on Juste’s shoulders to redeem their house. Determined and driven to make his house proud he spent his youth training near constantly, often sneaking out at night and practicing under the cover of darkness or studying until the early morning. Despite putting in so much work to ensure he was at peak physical and intellectual prowess he did his best to keep his efforts hidden, working himself to the bone while letting others believe his skill was due to ‘natural aptitude’. By the time he was able to join the Temple Knights Juste had already made quite the name for himself as a formidable fighter, a brilliant tactician and cunning strategist. Due to his smaller stature he had to rely heavily on agility and finesse in combat rather than brute force but he was still a force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. This paired with his sharp mind and his natural charisma helped him shoot through the ranks far faster than anticipated, earning him somewhat of a ‘golden boy’ status and the epithet ‘Juste of the Gilded Dusk’. While he was often distant and aloof when caught alone the young knight was natural born leader and he knew just how to play a crowd. He had a winning smile and a silver tongue and he knew just how to inspire people and win their hearts. His hard work was rewarded and at a young age Juste attained the rank of commander. After a time he was put in charge of a small, specially trained elite team of knights and those under his command acted as a strike force, using precise coordination and calculated strategical advantages to turn the tide of a battle. The young commander always gave off an air of confidence and despite his stature he cut quite an imposing figure in his plate mail.

                    During the end of his military service Juste was injured in an incident that still haunts him. His team was tasked with taking out a group of dragons heading towards Falcon’s Nest and he made the decision to engage them as a single unit despite explicit orders to wait for back up. He believed catching them off guard would give him and his knights the upper hand but he was very wrong. The Dravanians were prepared for an ambush and if it had been just the dragons Juste and his knights had accounted for it would have been an easy victory but there were others lying in wait for the perfect time to strike and they were overwhelmed. They managed to win the battle and the young commander made it out alive but just barely and he was one of the lucky ones. The majority of his knights ended up dead, burned beyond recognition or horrifically injured. The few that made it out alive did so with wounds and injuries that would stay with them for the rest of their lives.

                    During the confrontation Juste engaged the largest of the dragons, the one leading the assault. He fought valiantly but during the fight the dragon’s claws connected with the front of his armor and cleanly ripped through the metal plate of his cuirass, removing one of his pauldrons in the process. The dragon fire that followed charred his left shoulder and left his arm immobilized due to the physical damage and the metal of his armor fusing together. Caught off guard he lost his footing and the dragon managed to pin him, taking the upper hand and crushing several ribs in the process. In a last ditch effort he managed to grab his sword in his good hand and drive it through the base of the dragon’s neck as it attempted to finish him off with one final bite. When the reinforcements found him he was unconscious and barely alive, the body of the dragon slumped over him and still pinning him to the ground. Juste still has vivid nightmares of laying in the snow covered in blood, surrounded by the smell of burning flesh and the bodies of his comrades. The eerie silence of the aftermath, punctuated only by his own ragged breaths and the sharp whistle of the wind, still haunts him. After every nightmare the fear of bleeding out or freezing to death still feels as fresh as it did in the moment.

                    He was honoured for killing the dragon as well as his role in protecting the settlement but he was also deemed no longer suitable for frontline combat due to his permanent injuries. The dragon fire that scorched his shoulders had damaged the nerves in his left arm and left him unable to grip his great sword properly. On top of that his ribs would never properly mend, leaving him vulnerable to reinjuring them. Juste was racked with guilt, mourning the loss of his comrades and blaming himself for everything that had transpired. After his recovery Juste threw himself into a political career. While he still acted as an honorary commander and tactical advisor he put his natural charm to work and also began acting as a negotiator and diplomat. To keep himself busy and his mind occupied he worked too hard, slept too little and drank to cope with his guilt. Dark circles under the young noble’s eyes became a near permanent fixture and there was always a hint of sadness hidden behind his smile. Eventually Juste cracked under the pressure from his parents, his house, his work and his own remorse and he fled Ishgard under the cover of night. The former knight left everything behind, practically untouched and almost as if he planned to return, and the only thing he brought with him was a simple snowflake obsidian pendant. No one knew what happened to him or if he was even alive.

                    Upon leaving he took the surname ‘Delacroix’ as a way to hide his identity. It seemed common and inconspicuous enough that Juste assumed no one would question it. He did mercenary work for a time, travelling from place to place until he finally settled down at a small bookshop in Gridania. While working there he taught himself about botany, finally taking the time to explore passions he had ignored in favour of trying to advance back home in Ishgard. He spent most of his time reading, tending to the gardens and taking care of the flowers he kept in his private chambers. During his time there he met his pet rabbit Sesame. She was injured when he found her tucked behind some of the shrubs outside of the shop and he took her in and cared for her. After her wound had healed he tried to release her but she kept coming back and he decided to cave and keep her.

                    Eventually Juste followed his heart and he used his earnings from the bookshop to open a small, quaint flower shop in the Lavender Beds. Currently he lives in the back of the shop and he sends most of the earning from his business anonymously to the families of those injured and killed while under his command as a way to make amends. It’s a happy, quiet life and while he’s still working through things he finally feels content and in control of his own destiny.

POSSIBLE RP HOOKS

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◆ Fellow Ishgardians

Fellow Ishgardians may or may not recognize the runaway noble. Personality wise Juste is currently very different from how he was back in Ishgard so that could come as a surprise to someone who would remember him during his time back home. Also open to discuss pre-established connections!

◆ Botany Related Inquiries / Botanist Colleagues

◆ Need flowers?

From individual flowers to bouquets to herbs and medicinal plants Juste has a wide range of things in stock. He’s also willing to lend his services to decorating for events!

◆ Adventure!

While he’s been told he should avoid combat due to his injuries that probably wouldn’t stop him if something interesting came up. He’s content with his quiet life but the boy has been missing that sense of adventure and itching to explore more.

 ◆ Got any ideas? Just let me know!

I’m pretty open so if you have anything you would like to know or explore RP wise just send me a message, I would love to hear it!

CONTACT

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◆ SERVER

Balmung

◆ IN GAME NAME

Juste Delacroix

◆ ADDITIONAL NOTES

If you would be interested in RP plotting or setting something up please contact me here on Tumblr or in game! Discord is definitely an option but it won’t be provided right away.

#Juste Delacroix #Ishgard #Ishgardian #Ishgardian Knight #Botanist #Flower Shop #Balmung #Balmung RP #ffxiv rp #Rabbit #I'm sorry this is so long #I just love my soft bunny boy #He's so sweet

[ecotone99]

[SF] Chapter One: Emergency

The deafening sound of the alarm woke Petra up. She was on her guard duty that night and seldom anything goes wrong when she’s on the guard duty. She quickly rose from the perch, already dressed in the battle uniform, which wasn’t really a piece of clothing. It was mostly just patches of thick leather held together by an old cotton fabric that worked as pads while inside the battle suits. Just so that it doesn’t hurt too bad while moving. It hurt anyway.

Petra got up and ran towards the The Bull which was the name she’s given to her battle suit. Not every battle suit has a name. Many of them lose their pilots way before the time comes to name it. But the Free People living inside the Capitol needed heroes, they needed hope and so it has been decided, that any soldier who survives more than ten battles earns the right to name his suit.

She was just eleven by the time she got to name hers. Back then she didn’t really give it much thought, she was always very stubborn and the name just popped into her head. As the time went by, it only felt more and more appropriate. With every battle, her rage only grew, fuelled by each one of her failures, failures to make progress, to make a change, to find those who have been lost to the Desolace. Desolace being an appropriately banishing term for whatever lied beyond the great wall. The last line of defence for mankind as it knew it.

The Capitol on the other hand, was brimming with life (so was the Desolace, but it was being kept a secret, for safety reasons). The Free People were living inside the city walls for generations. The last two never even saw the world outside, or heard any rumours about it. The life in the Capitol had a steady flow and people obeyed it. Most of the Capitol’s people were actually quite content with their lives. Those who could, meaning mostly orphans and people too poor to have a choice, would join the defensive force of the city, but they’d be effectively banned from participating in what others called a normal life. There was a great fear that someone might come into contact with the virus while defending and carry it back inside the city. That would surely mean a disaster. For the city’s defensive force and the belief in the founding fathers’ construction skills were the only two things that were keeping the terrible illness at bay. It was kept outside in the Desolace where it could do whatever it pleased, as far as the Capital’s people were concerned. As long as they felt safe inside their honeycomb-shaped armed-to-teeth wall, everything was fine.

Yet, all the ones that joined the defensive force had a feeling that everything wasn’t so perfect, especially now, a hundred and fifty years after the final day of the construction. The wall was starting to age, getting rusty, some of the blades didn’t extend as far as they used to, some of the mincers were too rusty to start up and in places, the bite marks on the steel frame prevented the safety door from closing. The screeching sounds every time it needed to move. The ones who noticed that were subtly given an idea, that their safe haven might not last forever, as it was advertised.

After all, Petra knew that nothing last forever. Her mother had died shortly after childbirth and her father died when she was five, she could barely remember his face, the only thing that she had left was a cheap necklace with a plastic half a heart. When she was one year old, her father passed it to her, it was after her mother. Her parents bought two necklaces, each with one half of a heart as a symbol of their love and because they were drunk and it seemed like a good idea. While looking distinctly cheap and meaningless, in her hands it was like a golden family heirloom. It was the only thing she could hang on to when feeling down and lost. Over the years, she often did. The formerly red plastic heart was tainted by time, and dirty, oily hands, it’s become black. At first Petra tried to clean it, but later she gave up the effort. In time she was actually proud of the colour, for it signified the black emptiness inside her. The hole left by her family she never had. She had many colleagues and fellow soldiers but she never had a friend, or at least that was how she felt. If there ever was somebody close to her, it was Henry, a strange man who’s lost much; just as she did.

The wall was a honeycomb-like structure, over hundred meters tall and just about ten meters thick it was way beyond anything a creature could jump, even a very fast, agile and dangerous creature. It used to be dark red and you could still mostly make that colour out, but it was accompanied by others as well. Some newly added modules did not keep with the former red colouring, resulting into something that could almost be called a piece of art. The wall made a full circle around the ruins of Old York Colony. It had no ceiling, but there was a net of wires in a honey-comb shape that covered the skies effectively creating a barrier from all possible sides.

The wall’s been keeping humankind alive for more than hundred and fifty years. An ingenuine idea a modular wall. Each steel cell was hollow, but weaponized. Initially with but a few types of defence mechanisms, like cutting blades, or a saw, or a simple machine gun. But as the wall had to be repaired over the years and as its modular design allowed; human creativity gave birth to a plethora of all thinkable and unthinkable weapons, neatly stacked in their respective honeycombs just waiting for an enemy who would dare to approach. It was not unusual to see weapons like laser grids, mass-decomposers and other high-tech gadgets invented with the idea of killing in mind. All this meant that the wall could be easily and quickly repaired just by replacing a damaged cell. It also meant that was fairly light and thanks to its structure it could be excessively high.

The battle suits were at first only invented as a way to service the wall. What normally needed a crane and around ten people could be easily done with just one or two technicians, when they were equipped with an exo-suit. But in time, the monsters started to focus their attacks more, they were cooperating and it got dangerous. The people of the Capital had to have some other defence as well, for when they went to exchange a damaged cell the creatures would try to seize the opportunity to force their way inside. About a hundred and twenty years ago, the Free People upgraded some of their exo-suits to battle suits, replacing steel grabbers with blades and guns. They also replaced technicians for trigger happy individuals, who were deemed the best at protecting the less adventurous inhabitants of the city.

Whatever the reason for their attacks, the creatures came in all shapes and sizes the only thing that connected them all was the desire to kill everyone inside the city. They were ferocious, merciless and selfless as well, sacrificing great numbers to jam a single cell to gain a chance to attack. While the creatures were pushing through, the second line of defence came to action. The Free Guards – as they were called composed mostly of orphans but sometimes people with great determination to protect what’s their own. There wasn’t much of a life expectancy for a Free Guard, they would often die within mere months after enrolment but thankfully the poorest layers of the Capital’s society provided almost infinite supply of real orphans, or soon to be orphans anyway. For life was fast for the poor and it was the decisions made at the end of each day that mattered. With all viable options exhausted, they would often enrol themselves. Begging was strictly forbidden, much like in the wall, in the city everyone had their designated place. A place to live, a place to work and, of course, food rations. These were hard times, as the mayor often repeated from behind his large wooden desk. Everybody had to do their bit of work and thanks to that ultimate form of cooperation, the city “flourished”.

It also flourished thanks to its innovative cold-fusion reactor. It was one of its kind, for it has been invented in a very special place. The Capitol stood on a huge deposit of liquid metal, a priceless element and also a great magnetic stabilizer. The metal was extremely heavy but also in liquid state. It was kind of like tar; it created a very stable flow within itself generating one of the most stable magnetic fields. It provided the much-needed protection from radiation and in turn, allowed science to do experiments that simply weren’t possible before and in time led to the discovery of a monopole-magnetic field. Main advantage being the fact that on the inside it was able to create immense magnetic force strong enough to literally force two atoms through each other and on the outside, it had no measurable magnetic properties what so ever.

It was this invention that gave rise to the technology of today, all battle suits, all of the wall’s cells and of course all of the city was powered by the cold-fusion reactor relying solely on the fact, that from the outside, it was harmless while on the inside it could compress a whole universe, if it needed to. There was one problem, however, with the extraction of liquid metal. The field it generated was very stable, precisely because the amount of liquid metal in the ring-shaped cave system underground was always the same. But if anybody dared to remove some from the system, it would immediately start falling apart. Yes, it could be helped with various flow stabilizers and extra pumps that would maintain the flow where the missing mass couldn’t. The science that got humans here was all done by the civilization that preceded them. Most of it was done by a team of scientists and one in particular – who ended up being one of the founding fathers of The Capitol.

George M. L. Kinsworth was his name. A hundred and fifty years ago he stood at the brink of extinction, together with what was back then “all that’s left of humanity.” He and a team of scientist were supposed to invent a shield, some kind of force field, that would allow humans to survive the radioactive fallout from the fifth world war. They were working days and night in a makeshift shelter only to realize that the task is too big. They had seen the looming failure, but were powerless to do anything while under the control of authorities. After some time, the team has decided to act on their own; present a different solution to the same problem.

The Bull booted up and welcomed Petra with a familiar beep. She double checked that her belts are tightened, because she’s seen enough defenders die a sorry death while falling out of their machine only to get trampled by it mere seconds later. She gripped the two joysticks that controlled the metal frame and initiated start-up sequence check. Usually it took about two minutes for a battle suit to get ready, but if she really wanted, she could skip some procedures to get close to one minute. That is why she almost always got the first kill making her popular for the propaganda, but less popular for other defenders.

On the inner side of the wall, there was burnt gore all over the place. All the cut-up creatures some remains of the allies and an unreasonable amount of blood reminded everyone who got close enough to see of their own mortality. It also created many jobs, as these remains had to be incinerated after each battle. There wasn’t another wall to protect the citizens from the sight, but there was a thick plastic foil, from one side sprayed with blood and from the other, with graffiti. It was one of the few cases throughout human history, that no one felt the need to wash them off.

With all buttons in The Bull shining red and green as if armed and ready Petra made her way through the piles of gore towards the gate. She was followed by a few other defenders from the quick draw department. There was no gate, of course, but there was a cell where you could simply push a button on the inside which would disable all the weapons and so enable a harmless passage through and otherwise very harmful wall cell. Once she got outside, she took a deep breath; one short look on the horizon and then she began to run along the wall towards the point of reported attack. Followed by her fellow defenders she could already see the group of creatures trying to push their way through one of the cells.

It seemed to her, as if they are getting smarter every time they try. This time they brought an iron stick, a girder to be more precise, but in their hands, it looked like a stick. They probably tore it off some broken-down post-war building. There sure were many of these visible on the horizon, but Petra never went there, she never even felt the need or the desire to go. There was a mission for here to carry, a purpose and it was very clearly defined, she never had to think about her parents, or about anything else, in fact, she could only focus on the missions and in between on maintenance of The Bull and she’d be just fine. The mayor seldom rewarded the defenders with a holiday. Much rather he’d give them special upgrades for their Battle suits, promotions and extra rations. But once a person entered the Free Guards, he could expect to get enough food and water to get by, he or she could also expect to get a modest amount of money. But it would stay in the cities’ account, for the soldiers spent the vast majority of their time defending the city, often dying for the cause and so it was unnecessary to give them the money anyway, or so the major thought. There was an agreement that any soldier who would manage to last more than ten years in service would be labelled a senior citizen, given all his earned money and a new place in the society. It was with great shame and a motivational speech that, at the end of each year, the major read a list of names, who didn’t make it and stressed that it’s no reason to give up, for there already is one senior citizen who went through the ten years of hell and that would be him himself and so the mayor made himself a living proof of a dream that killed so many people.

Petra couldn’t remember her childhood friends, or any friends as a matter of fact. But as of late she met an older guy who she had some interest in. He joined the Free Guards very recently, but already managed to get a name for his battle-suit, he called it The Mammoth. He used to be an engineer in the Capitol’s reactor room, but he lost one of his arms in an experiment, an experiment which yielded him widespread recognition as the man who went out.

Henry was his name, and once he couldn’t hold his scientific curiosity anymore, he built himself a special suit and decided to go out and explore. He thought that it might not be so bad after all, for it has been quite some time since the last person went out and came back. Henry managed to stay outside for a day. Which was a long time considered that the longest defensive actions lasted only a bit more than an hour. In the evening, when he approached the city again, he was silent and without one hand his expression a painful grimace. Later he built himself a new battle-suit that more than compensated for his disability. He gave it a name, because it had bigger proportions, more weapons, and a huge metal shield with spikes.

This time Petra couldn’t see him. The creatures attacking today looked like giants from a fairly-tale, but they were covered in ooze dripping form their pores. The sun, together with the radiation burned through their skin. They had to cross the sandy plains to get to the city’s wall. As they did, the burning pain almost decomposed their skin but fuelled their anger. One of the brutes was holding a girder under his arm. Then he rushed towards a wall cell. This one was armed with several spinning saws moving on robotic arms. The brute rushed through the others, shoving them aside and then rammed the iron girder in the cell stopping the wheels of death and enabling other creatures to get through.

Petra was already engaged with one of the late-comers when she noticed that some of the attackers were already pushing their slimy bodies inside the cell, making their way through. She was looking around for assistance, shouting into the radio. But it seemed that everyone had more than enough fighting on their hands. It was right then that together with a large wave of blood and broken-off pieces of bodies the creatures got pushed out of the cell as The Mammoth ran through it from the inside out pushing its spiked shield into the creatures’ faces. Everyone engaged turned towards The Mammoth and stared for a few seconds, dumbstruck by the sheer destructive power of the machine and the madness of the man who built it. With a few quick swings Henry dealt several fatal blows to the creatures who were dangerously close to the broken cell. He needed to buy time, for repairs were already under way. Two mechanics started to remove the cell and two others were already on their way with a new one.

Still, there were enemies to deal with. Petra snapped out of the moment and started doing what she knew the best. With her trusty machine gun in one hand and a giant spiked hammer in the other, she rode The Bull tearing through enemy ranks. In something over twenty minutes, most of the attackers were either dead, or mutilated enough that they posed no threat. She made a rule of not leaving anybody to needlessly suffer, so she went around and finished whatever was still moving off with her hammer. The others have already started to retreat back into the safety of the city, soon it was only her and Henry left outside. Both of them in their formidable battle-suits stained with blood and gore left from those who had to face them. She only caught Henry by the glimpse of her eye, he seemed to be gazing into the distance; sometimes she though that he’s going to run away again but she didn’t know when or why would he do it, it just seemed that way.

Everyone and everything seemed to be dead. She turned towards the wall and radioed Henry, who was now close to the cell that was already repaired, to go back inside. He agreed, turned towards her and fell down. The brute that was carrying the girder and ended up dying in the first charge of The Mammoth wasn’t so dead after all. It managed to hold on to a splinter from the girder and had the intention to return it where it thought it belongs. With last bits of strength, lying on the ground, he used the iron splinter to pierce the The Mammoths back together with its pilot. Petra rushed towards Henry, quickly dispatching the brute’s head she jumped out of her suit and tried to remove Henry out of his, but from up close she saw that it’s too late.

Petra got out of The Bull and tried to get henry out of his machine, panicking, shouting…

“Come on! I’ll take you to the doctor! Get out! It’s gonna be alright!”

Henry coughed and as he did an obviously important part of his insides fell out of his mouth.

“I just never knew… never knew when… There is something wrong with this life, isn’t it?”

Those were Henry’s last words. Finally, unstrapped form safety belts his lifeless body fell into Petra’s arms and then, on the ground. Petra looked at Henry’s corpse then at the wall and then at the horizon. She silently nodded her head three times at each of the things she was facing and then she returned back.

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