Pride Before The Fall;

Independent Roleplay Blog for Legatus Quintus van Cinna of the Ist Imperial Legion of Garlemald Not Spoiler Free | Written by Vonny Tracked tag is nossumusmanus

[nossumusmanus]

“The Garlean flag bears a chain. The bonds between our countrymen. A red link at its center – the blood of the fallen. Our loved ones who lived and died for Garlemald. But if she, too, fell, who would be left to remember them and their sacrifice? What enduring proof would there be that they were ever here?”

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Independent roleplay blog for FFXIV’s Lord Quintus van Cinna, Legatus of the Ist Imperial Legion of Garlemald, as written by Vonny.

Affiliated With: @valiinus

AU-based; all interactions welcome!

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[nossumusmanus]

❛ coming here to see you is the only place i could go. ❜ (young!Zenos)

It wasn't like the royal family to venture into the soldiers' barracks -- even to seek out the Ist Legion's Legatus. So imagine Quintus's surprise when there was a knock at the door to his quarters, and instead of a servant come to summon him for His Radiance, it was the young prince standing before him.

It was concerning at best, and alarming at worst.

Lord Quintus's brow furrowed. He pressed his thumb and index finger to his bleary eyes briefly, for he had admittedly spent too long pouring over documents and maps -- but the vision of the boy did not disappear. It was when Zenos spoke, however, that it fully sunk in that the prince really was there, and something really was amiss.

"Your Highness," he greeted with the customary Imperial salute, all while struggling to trample down the confusion he felt at the situation. His Radiance would likely have his head if word reached him of this encounter, and the wrong impression was ascertained as a result of it. But to turn the youth away would be cruel, and his mind kept darting to Castor and Pollux, and how terrible he would feel should they be suffering and feel they had no one to turn to in his absence...

In the end, of course he moved aside to permit Zenos entry. His quarters were, naturally, small, and decorated with very few personal items. There was a sizeable stack of books off to one side, which so far had only been half-organized(and then promptly forgotten about); a small trunk sat next to the small desk against the wall, containing a few of the guns from his collection. Of course there was an inkpot and quill on aforementioned desk, as well as a pair of reading glasses, worn when carrying out tasks that required working with tiny parts. Then there was a framed photograph of Quintus with his two children, sat in the perfect position that he could glimpse it from anywhere in the chamber. And leaning against one cold grey wall was the Legatus's greatsword, ever at the ready for battle.

He gestured for his guest to make himself comfortable -- not that there were choices of where the other could sit, aside from the table at the desk and the bed. Wherever Zenos chose to sit, Quintus would choose the opposite.

"What troubles you, Your Highness?"

[black-white-and-leather]

[nossumusmanus]

*sits on Quintus' knee*

There is a catboy on his knee. He isn't sure what to make of this.

So he'll just reluctantly unfold his arms from across his chest and pat Maru on the head, and pretend he isn't both amused and intrigued by this gesture.

[nossumusmanus]

“Even m' uniform is more comfortable than this… Itchy as hell.”

Clearly disgruntled, Wisteria stood beside the legatus as she desperately tugged and stretched the collar of her dress in a desperate attempt to make it at least somewhat tolerable — less suffocating. No luck on that front, sadly. Eventually she would stop fidgeting and instead opt to cross her arms and legs, leaning against the wall behind them as she watched the partygoers dance and drink the night away.

She wasn't really against parties, especially when there was a ton of expensive food just readily available, but after a while she would simply get bored. Yeah there was dancing and the chance to idly talk with others, but she'd rather be outside running or something. Itchy feet, as it were.

“Ain't parties like this meant for the upper crust like y' and the rest of the legati? Why'd y' want me here?”

In truth, he couldn't fault Wisteria for being agitated at her current predicament -- or rather, the garments she had been pressured into wearing for the occasion. Were he in her shoes, he would likely be annoyed over it, too.

Although his gaze remained fixed ahead at the congregation of Garlemald's social elite, most of whom were the Magistrates and their families, out of the corner of his eye Quintus did take note of the woman's movements and shifts in stance. It was, after all, part of his duty to have a keen eye and hawklike focus, given the significant role the Ist Legion played within the city -- most notably the Imperial palace. One didn't guard the Emperor without being acutely aware of their surroundings at all times.

By the time Wisteria had settled into leaning against the wall, his brow had furrowed somewhat, and it was followed closely with a faint yet nonetheless exasperated sigh. "I have far outgrown my years of socializing at these gathering," he admitted, wondering if it was a confession to himself or to her. "But to properly answer your question, we are here to stand guard. No more, no less."

The Legatus did have an advantage, being accustomed to being dressed in military dress uniforms most times when he was called upon for social gatherings where clunky armor wasn't suitable nor practical. For that, he considered apologizing to Wisteria; however, the most she would receive was an equally as faint half-smile. One gloved hand raised, moving away from its partner previously poised across his chest. "The "upper crust" as you so eloquently put it is full of too many public figures of great import for us to risk even a moment's lapse in security."

What he meant to say, without actually saying it, was that he brought her along because he trusted her to aid in such a significant task.

[nossumusmanus]

"That should be the last of the supplies, Lord Quintus," Despite their differences and the ill tone of their initial meeting, Alphinaud was cautiously optimistic around the commander's acquiescence with the Ilsabard Contingent's plans. As reluctant as that cooperation may have been, it was a good sign for the people of Garlemald and their future. "Is there aught else anyone needs? Medicine, perhaps?" He wished they would allow him to use magic, but knew that would be too much too soon.

If Jullus had shown him anything, it was the significance of moving forward, rather than clinging to the past. Emperor Varis was a ghost; Quintus could either join him in death, or accept that the Garlemald he had always known, had been raised in and was meant to retire and die in, was gone and would not return. In its place would sprout a new Garlemald, its tendrils of vines and leaves weaving their way between the cracks and debris of the city's hollowed shell.

It was at the behest of the soldiers he had dismissed, at their reluctance to leave and their desire to live, that ultimately won the Legatus over. Tentatively, but there nonetheless.

He regarded Alphinaud with a sharp gaze, though there was no malice to be found within it. No, there was a hint of furrowing to his brow, and lips pursed into a thoughtful, thin line. There were words to speak, things unsaid that needed vocalizing. But they were difficult to utter, even as he nodded towards the youth.

"...Aye. Medicine."

Such a simple statement. Inadequate, too. The furrow of his brow deepened, and he glanced away, arms folding across his chest. "Thank you. You and yours have done our people -- from my soldiers, to our citizens -- a great service, one we cannot hope to repay."

Loathe though he was to think of Garlemald as beholden to the Ilsabard Contingent, and Eorzea as a whole... He couldn't deny that the perseverance of the twins, and Jullus's subsequent growth as a leader, had saved them. Had saved him.

"You truly are a young peacemaker." And for that, Quintus was grateful.

[nossumusmanus]

Do you have any headcanons or thoughts about your muse's relationship with Jullus (and/or the rest of his soldiers)?

I do! Oh, do I ever.

My Quintus is stern, even strict, but he values every single one of his soldiers -- even the ones conscripted from outside territories. Regardless of their backgrounds and reasons, they are all soldiers of the Ist Legion, and they are fighting for Garlemald; the fact that they're doing so rather than deserting, in his eyes, shows strength of character. And the loyalty they show towards him only makes him respect them all the more.

With Jullus specifically, there's a fondness, probably because his children aren't too much older than the young man is. When Jullus retreats back to his home to try and save his family, Quintus doesn't scold or yell at him upon his return. In truth, he's sympathetic to the pain of losing people so near and dear, and he offers comfort by way of turning a blind eye to the fact that Jullus technically abandoned his post by leaving. Of all of his soldiers, Jullus, if he were to keep pushing to intervene, is the voice of reason, and Quintus desperately needs someone like him to counterbalance the sense of hopelessness that he feels at Garlemald's destruction. In short, when it comes to all of my verses where Quintus survives... He admires Jullus and views him as a far better, more capable leader than he is, who will lead Garlemald into the new age that it so desperately needs. Not just for the new generations, but to instill hope in the older generations too, to bridge that gap and link everyone together.

When the IIIrd Legion, led by Vergilia and almost all Tempered, attacked the remaining members of the Ist who were trying to evacuate as many people as they could from the city, Quintus chose to stay behind to try and fend the prior off. The plan was for his soldiers to get the few civilians they were able to save to the train station, but several of his men came back to aid him -- which is probably a good thing, otherwise he'd be dead. Vergilia, having the advantage of being Tempered, and thus having no sense of restraint or limitations by things such as weariness, landed a blow that otherwise would have been fatal to him, but the men who had returned to help him managed to get him away and to the train station with the others.

He may seem cold and uncompromising, but when it comes to loyalty and respect, he earns them from his men by giving the same in return. And in general, it's his loyalty that makes him so uncompromising, coupled with him being so old and set in his ways.

[nossumusmanus]

crawls back in just to faceplant on the Dashboard.

Hello. My ADHD-ridden ass is finally paying attention to this blog. And also my Quintus alt. Because I must get the Fierce Tyrant set on him before it goes away forever.

(Because let's be real, I am never getting his actual armor. Not because of dislike for Bozja, but because lol me playing Scouting class. I can't even play Dragoon; melee is not my forte.)

[nossumusmanus]

Like I said on my other blog -- Happy Holidays to all of you, no matter what you celebrate. And if you don't celebrate anything, I hope the days are good for you too, and that the new year brings more happy moments for everyone!

I'm excited to get back to RPing Quintus again. I have two new Asks to reply to, so hopefully you two know who you are(especially you, serial licker). Aside from that, it's a new year coming up, so a new start! If you want to plot, please feel free to let me know!!!

I do still need to do a bit of blog cleanup, but other than that, I should ge good to go. Since... not much if anything needed to change regarding headcanons for my muse.

[nossumusmanus]

Not me talking to Phoenix about XVI verses for our muses. So while I'm working on a new promo picture and whatnot, have the single detail I've come up with so far:

My Quintus would absolutely be from Sanbreque, and predictably, an officer in the Imperial army.

Very impressive, I know.

[nossumusmanus]

On mobile for a bit longer, but once I'm back at my laptop, I really need to clean up this blog's info pages.

Just realized I need to make a tag page, too, for easy mobile navigation. (And so that I can cheat and look at the list whenever I forget my tags, which happens frequently lol)

[nossumusmanus]

" Will you bend the knee to your new emperor, " Anabella asked him, a strange smile gracing her lips at last. So many years they had remained in the shadows of lesser men -- Varis had never been fit for the throne after Solus had died, but he had been the firstborn son. Now that he was dead, it was time to rebuild the Empire in their glorious image. " Varis has failed his duty. You can either die with him or help Garlemald to return to old glory. The choice is yours. "

Ordinarily, it was of no concern nor business to him whom the Galvus family members chose to wed -- and that didn't cease being the case now. That spineless whelp Nerva could do as he pleased; it was Quintus's sworn duty to serve and protect the royal family, as was the case with the entirety of the Ist Imperial Legion, and that wasn't a duty he would forsake due to personal distaste for any particular member.

No, he thought with a hint of bitterness, the killing of heirs to the throne had been Baelsar's job. It was an unsavory task that he was quite glad had fallen to someone else in a position of loyalty, although he didn't envy Gaius for having to take that role.

But this woman... The new empress, oh how she rubbed him in all the wrong ways. The Legatus's jaw clenched tight at her words, and he bit back the temptation to roar at her for her insolence towards the late Emperor Varis's memory. Varis had not failed -- he had been sabotaged. During his reign, however, the younger man had set Garlemald upon a path of unification under one standard, the Garlean standard.

What had Nerva done, aside from whine to his father and hide away while the crowned prince and the damnable IIIrd Legion did his work for him? Nerva knew nothing of military and political affairs, and it showed time and again.

But Empress Anabella, on the other hand, was not so useless as her husband. She knew these matters and how they worked, and she was not afraid to take charge -- which was good, considering her husband's missing backbone. Unfortunately for Quintus, that meant that he would have to serve her, and thus would need to steel himself towards her barbs.

No matter how vividly they made him see red.

Those steely, deep blue eyes narrowed, and his jaw loosened just enough to allow lips to pull back and reveal gritted teeth. Neither Emperors Solus or Varis had demanded he kneel to them. No, it had been something he had been willing to do by his own choice, without prompting, just as he had been willing to give to them his unwavering loyalty. The more Anabella spoke to him, the more his ire grew towards both her and the new emperor, and the more he struggled to quell his anger over the situation at large.

I do not bow to those unworthy of respect, he wanted to snap, but refrained. Instead, he hardened his expression all the more, uttering out a terse reply of, "Yes, Your Majesty," then offered the traditional Garlean salute. "Glory be to Garlemald, and glory be to His Radiance."

[nossumusmanus]

Slips this here because oh my god I am so thrilled and revitalized by this man's lorebook entry fjhfnj

[phoenix-flamed]

۞ o/

Shameful. Disgraceful. No sooner had Emperor Varis zos Galvus's body been laid in the ground than the cowardly bastard Titus set to work trying to put his equally as cowardly son on the throne. In his opinion, neither Titus nor Nerva had the capability to be even a fraction of the ruler that Varis had been; they were too busy whining after scraps of praise for pandering to the ruling class to care a whit about what really mattered. But Varis had known well the necessity of peace through unification, even if it need be achieved through brute force. He had not shied away from war -- and had himself served many a military campaign as a Legatus. He also understood that while extending a hand in the name of that peace was a crucial part of the process, Garlemald did have her pride, and she would neither bend the knee nor run with her tail between her legs. No -- their days of retreat were long over. Emperor Solus zos Galvus had seen to that. And yet the Legatus of the Ist Imperial Legion, Lord Quintus van Cinna, had heard troubling reports that the IIIrd Legion had thrown in their lot with the opportunist pair. And this after previous reports -- along with whispers throughout the populace -- suggested that the IIIrd had worked in the shadows to aid Titus and Nerva in assassinating Varis? It was enough to make Quintus's blood boil. As he paced about his private quarters like a caged lion, his thoughts kept returning to one solution: a quick and decisive blow against the IIIrd, to remove the threat they posed before they could dare to make their move. Dark blue eyes shifted over to the flag that was stretched out across and carefully pinned to the adjacent wall, for all who entered to see; a flag bearing the Garlean emblem of a chain, the centermost link red to represent the blood of their fallen. He could only hope that Emperor Varis would forgive him for what he was planning to do -- for while war had ever been second nature to the Garlean people, civil war was another matter entirely...

Quintus van Cinna, FFXIV

[nossumusmanus]

//-Dusts this blog off.-

Hi hello I've been very much distracted by Hot Dead Dad over in the XVI fandom. Oops.

[nossumusmanus]

Every time I wander back onto this blog, I feel like that gif of the guy with the pizza boxes walking into the apartment that's on fire.

[spaacemusings]

                                    Love really is like playing with fire.                                Anyone can play easily and lightheartedly.                                  But when you mess up and get burned,                                 that scar stays with you your whole life.