#os&r

[winterdeepelegy]

Glace’s taxidermy den/personal quarters has finally been renovated in his FC house.  Downsized the bathroom and flipped it to the far opposite corner and moved any actual living space up to the loft.  There is an extra bed for one of his project Sisters who’s been staying with him.  The room feels a lot more open now, but may still see further tweaking eventually.

[onidephor]

The Order of the Sword and Rose is Recruiting!

It’s recruiting season for our family and we want to find our next new member!

If you’ve glanced here, likely you’re looking for an FC or just curious about our group. Keep reading for details on what we have to offer! The OS&R is a highly active, dedicated RP FC on Balmung. We are an incredibly friendly, silly group of nerds.

Welcome, friend! Here at the Order of the Sword and Rose, we strive for excellence for every member to grace our halls. Working for over four years, this company has stood the test of time to become your next home. We work to be a close-knit, dedicated RP company with moderators that work towards being friends with each and every member, and bringing out the true potential of their creativity. Feel like you’re an ill fit in other companies? Feel like your ideas are too strange to be appreciated? Do you just want a family-style environment? If yes, then we want to see you!

Where are we?

Right in the scenic center of Goblet, ward 1, plot 19, you’ll find our Medium home with numerous places to RP within. Back rooms within the house are also dedicated to various environments, such as chapels, office space, and bedrooms. Your character won’t have to live here, but it will definitely feel like home.

What do we do?

Ask any member in-character and they’ll tell you we are a company who helps those who cannot help themselves, always striving for the good of others, and bringing those with poor pasts back to a life of purpose. RP you’ll find here is anything from slice-of-life casual dinner nights in the house to exciting, dark stories of heroism and valor. There’s a niche for every type of character here.We have a weekly Friday event with numerous other events throughout the week, and RP available on request at any time.

Who can join?

Anyone! We even specifically welcome those with strange backstories, unusual ideas, and are very lore-flexible when it comes to ideas within the FFXIV universe. This is a huge game with bigger lore and many vague spots to fit juicy headcanons that we can’t wait to hear! The FC itself is good-aligned, but many characters within span the range of good to anti-hero to villain! Explore the possibilities and let your character shine. All we ask is that every member is good to one another.

How do I join?

Contact me here on Tumblr, visit our Enjin website or contact Oni De’phor within the Balmung Server on FFXIV! Recruitment for the FC is always open so drop an application ingame if you like to speak to a member of the FC any time. Don’t want to join the FC but still want to have some benefits of meeting new people? Join our social Linkshell! Rosebuds is a collection of friends and members where we all gather to chat, get content done, and more. Look for our shouts in local cities if interested!

All new interested recruits will be questioned prior to invitation, primarily regarding activity levels and character type. Questioning does not guarantee membership or invitation. Discord is required.

[winterdeepelegy]

[winterdeepelegy]

Fate by Fate

[Last written piece from Oct 2019 - Conflagration]

Frost had no way of confirming exactly how long he had kept himself in a cryogenically-induced sleep status except for what information was related to him upon his recovery.  A recovery which came at the hands of an unlikely and unexpected source - chimera unit 305.  There was no easy way to classify the once-Elezen anymore other than to call him a chimera.  He was indeed a sum of his parts... and parts from an unknown number of others, including those of Lysander sas Theius, whose remains were assimilated following the airship crash which effectively killed the Tribunus.  Yet, despite knowing who was responsible for orchestrating the incident 305, strangely enough, came proffering his aid rather than his retribution. Frost reluctantly accepted, and they conversed at length about the changes surging through the Empire and how their Brothers and Sisters might be affected. A truce was necessary.  Both Frost and 305 wanted to see their kin-by-fate protected, to see them thrive, though the former mostly desired their freedom and equity among other Spoken, the latter saw them as an entirely new species which needed to prove their worth to the rest of the world.  He still meant to have their might on display, that no one would bring them further harm, but this was a different means than how Frost imagined they could gain their place. As they sat near Idyllshire, overlooking the deep, tree-covered valley far below, they wondered about possible futures and whether they could claim a patch of that land for themselves.  It held resources and potential in abundance, with neighbors nearby for possible trade, but getting there was another matter.  Getting enough of their family mobilized to even begin was job one.  There was also the matter of bringing Mother into it.  She was not only overseer for half of their family, but she was as much a Sister in her own right due to her augmentations. Even Frost had to question the wisdom of including her just yet. Would she continue to aid them if they had to make a break for it, or fall back on her allegiance to the Empire and see them eliminated?

Much and more needed to be considered, but life seldom afforded the luxury of time or room to ponder before another problem emerged, because while Garlemald tore itself apart from within, another loomed over the heads of his other comrades among the Glass Network.  The Dowager still troubled them.  But just as he was catching up on things, word of another creature he had previously helped to deal with resurfaced. The Faceless had somehow returned, at least by way of an avatar.  They had offered Enambris their aid in dealing with the Dowager.  Apparently extra-dimensional entities don’t like it when someone - or something - else encroaches on their chosen feeding ground.  Both entities wanted the destruction of the Star in some form or another.  The enemy of their enemy became their ally, whether they liked it or not. After a great deal of consideration, Frost accepted the “gift” offered by the Faceless and welcomed their darkness into himself.  Perhaps he figured it would find a comfortable nest among his own, embraced by his constant, gelid power or that he might be able to borrow it for the sake of his family. He trusted Enambris as a leader and knew some personal sacrifice must have been made to ensure the agreement could work.  With respect to that, he might have been a fool to decline their offer.  In the end, they were all going to be released from the Faceless’ gifts, anyway, willingly or not, but he had his anchors to keep him from losing himself. Seisa. Miro.  Aimee.  Mother and his project siblings.  And... He couldn’t directly save any of them if there was no star left, could he?  They would have to wait for him, even as he lapsed again into shadows and winter deep silence.

[winterdeepelegy]

OS&R storyline night - Meeting snippet

Rhotswyss SnoetylwynMateus nods sideways.  "I'd be fine so long as you all trust him not to go overboard.  I'm not assuming the worst of you, mind you, I've just seen my fair share of gung-ho in my time." Glace Silencieuse: "Gung-ho?  That... that's one of those Hingan harlot types, isn't it?  That's really more information than any of us needed to know..." Rhotswyss SnoetylwynMateus laughs and shakes her head.  "You have quite the imagination!" Glace Silencieuse: "That sounds like denial.  It's alright." Glace Silencieuse: "Not judging..."

[winterdeepelegy]

When a tense moment in RP takes a turn for the unintentionally hilarious courtesy of autocorrect and sidebar conversation in a separate channel.

@onidephor @leatherlaceandblades @voidfirenate

[winterdeepelegy]

Home

Frost sat in the stillness of his room and stared at the papers he held in his hand.  It was a moment, yet incomplete, which had never been closer to becoming reality, but which still felt strangely far from his reach.  And as he read the documents for the sixteenth time, trying to let it sink in, his mind turned over all the things which brought him to the present.

Seisa and Miro’s father, Carvandus, had been an Imperial defector and, as such, it had been Frost’s job to eliminate him.  They never knew exactly what happened to him, only that a monster killed him.  Their mother, Mirelle, never went into detail with them about the condition his body was found in.  They would have been too young to understand anyway. Mirelle had taken ill shortly after Miro was born, a result of infection from which she never fully healed.  It was, therefore, her husband’s sole duty to make ends meet, and without him, she and her children fell to hardship which eventually landed them on the street.

Give me your fears... your last memories... It was a strange side effect of his augmentation and his family history working in tandem, the ability to perceive glimpses of another’s mind by coming in contact with their blood.  Fear being among the most potent of emotions as his targets breathed their last, he saw Mirelle, Seisa, and Miro in the light which faded from Carvandus’ eyes. He saw the man’s fear and love for them, and the regret which dawned from the realization he would never see them again. And this was hardly a first. Under his cover as a skilled taxidermist, Frost had accrued a certain amount of monetary fortune, which seldom went toward his own wants.  There were few things that he wanted for himself, and it usually went toward bringing treats home for his siblings, or toward some degree of recompense to the families of his victims.  Thus did he track down Mirelle and her children, to whom he identified himself as a friend of Carvandus, and provided what he could for medicine and other needs. It was his fault that they’d ended up where they did. There was a period of time where he couldn’t make his usual visits, and so Mirelle turned to other means of getting the medicine she needed.  She borrowed when she couldn’t pay, and when she couldn’t pay back what she borrowed, she found other ways to work off the debt, even for as ill as she was.  This, in turn, landed her in harm’s way of one of her less pleasant benefactors. Frost found out about him, a Hellsguard Brass Blade named Infernal Cyclone, and stole him away from attacking her.  Cyclone was slain by his hands, but in Frost’s revelry, he was too late to get back to Mirelle and save her. Fortunately, Seisa and Miro were unharmed, if traumatized by what they’d witnessed, and he vowed to make sure they never came to harm again.  Now orphaned, he brought them to Gridania to be cared for at one of the orphanages. It was his fault that they lost their mother.  The least he could do is make sure they had a safe place, a roof over their heads, and food in their bellies. He and Annowre visited them often, sponsored their needs, and took them on brief trips to Mist and the Goblet to visit friends. They wanted for nothing, other than a permanent home, which was something Frost couldn’t give them for many reasons: He didn’t have citizenship anywhere.  Garlemald didn’t recognize him, as the subject of an experimental program, and since his blood kin fled Ishgard, he had no records there, nor was his birth wanted or acknowledged by his sire.  As an outsider at the time, and one later believed dead after his capture by the Empire, he had no records in Gridania, nor anywhere else, and he couldn’t get citizenship without having some birth records somewhere. Add to all of that the fact that he moved around so much, between Castrum Occidens, the Goblet, and Castrum Aquilonis, and there was no settling in one place to give them the home they deserved.  And with Annowre assigned abroad by the Adders so frequently, none would be home to greet them.  The best he could do was sponsor them, and visit when he was able, and hope the gods would mercifully find them a loving family. Surely, the younglings prayed for a loving family, too, but there was only one that they wanted above all other attainable options. He tried so hard to keep them away from Garlemald’s eyes.  There was nothing the Empire could offer which he found acceptable for them, because he knew full well what it meant to fall into their hands.  And yet, somehow, during his time working with the Fustuarium, they were discovered by another faction and became targets.  The orphanage was set ablaze with Seisa, Miro, and thirty-five other children still inside. It was his fault.  The Miqo’te shadow of the White faction had been right.  If he hadn’t done his job so well, they never would have ended up in such a situation.  But he couldn’t have saved them alone... The Black faction of the Fustuarium had learned that their members’ comrades and family members were being targeted by the White, and that the orphanage was first on the list.  It was a bold rescue in the middle of the Shroud, so close to Bent Branch, but it was ultimately successful.  All of the children were brought out safely, and Frost swore never to let something like this happen again. It was his fault... and he had a duty to keep Seisa and Miro safe, rather than placing them somewhere convenient.  He owed that to them.  He had to find a way. A few suns after they were settled, albeit temporarily at the Order Hall, he put out a call for help with, of all things, paperwork.  More specifically, he needed someone skilled in forgery to create a convincing birth record and citizenship documents for him.  Luke answered the call and gladly provided, in exchange for an as yet to be determined favor.

Frost took a deep breath and left his room with the papers in hand.  Since the fire, the Conjurers’ guild had taken charge of tracking the records and whereabouts of the displaced orphans, which meant walking back into a place he never wanted to see the inside of ever again.  Fortunately, no one there recognized him, and none of the faces he looked upon were ones he knew.  So many years had passed... “Very well, Mister Caravelle,” said the Conjurer manning the front counter.  Luke had done as asked with the papers, completing them for the alias Frost used for his taxidermy business, Torzivir Caravelle.  “We just need three suns to confirm your documents, and we’ll be in contact.” He thanked them and left, returning directly back to his apartment to start packing.  He felt confident, for once, that this would all work out and that the younglings would soon be family, or at the very least his legal wards, which also meant moving.  He would have to find an apartment in Gridania so he could send them to school easier, but first, he had a letter to write.

Dear Annowre, Changes are coming which I think you’re going to really like.  Seira and Miro send their love, and we can’t wait to see you. Please come home soon. Glace

@fustuarium @eyesseeingbeyondtheveil @glowinggunmetal

[winterdeepelegy]

The Proud and the Broken

Solve one problem, and move straight on to another.  This was what Frost called “normal”.  And the first problem wasn’t even completely resolved yet, he was working on getting together with a handful of Void hunters to finish of the dream stealer Severin called into the realm.  Then there were the voices... another thing which he was accustomed to, mostly because of Sheol, but this time the source was without rather than within. Power. Purpose.  Protection for his Brothers and Sisters.  Offerings he continued to mull over several suns later.  All very tempting, yet they collided so forcefully with his stubbornness and pride. Topping off all of these things was the news that one of his company mates... might have killed the very Tribunus which had been plaguing him, his siblings, and Mother for so long.  He beheld the evidence with his own eyes and nose when he went to investigate the site of the incident, and the blood and bits of skull and brain matter splattered on Coerthan snow.  He felt so torn.  On one hand, if he was dead, good riddance.  On the other hand, he felt robbed of one of the things he wanted most, to see Lysander sas Theius slain by his own two hands.  At best, it meant Mother could reclaim those who were stolen and start undoing the damage he placed upon them.  At worst, the old man would pop up again sometime.  Frost had as many reasons to believe he was dead as he had reasons to believe Theius had a chance to survive.  After all, he’d been augmenting himself like any of the subjects, and possibly to a more advanced degree. “Or,” he mused to himself, “Anata’s aim was so good that, if he did survive, there’ll be a puckered hole in the middle of his forehead where his third eye was, to match the one at his back end.  A cosmetic improvement to make him appear more honest...” Frost allowed his thoughts to churn over all of these things in turn, and many times over, while he donned his armor piece by piece and prepared.  Even if Theius was dead, that still left his willing puppets, 305 and 271 specifically, and one or both would absolutely try to retaliate.  They would be foolish to attack the company Hall, in the middle of bloody Thanalan.  They would start a war by launching an assault on Ul’dahn territory, whether they were targeting a lone free company or an actual asset of the city-state.  There is nothing, however, stopping them from taking it out on the others still under Mother’s command at Occidens. Power. Purpose. Protection.  The whisper was but a memory, but it held such a loud echo and so much potential. I have all the power I need. Mother has seen to that. He secured the clasps of one gauntlet, and yanked the other into place. I have my purpose.  They are my family. They are my purpose.  Serving the Empire which saved my life is my purpose, and I do so gladly.  I would tear this star down to its core for them... but I will do so on my own terms. Frost made any necessary final adjustments to plates and hooks, and flexed his fingers closed. Never have I been one to take the easy way out.  I am Imperial asset 0178FB,  Survivalist unit... and easy isn’t in our programming... He slipped his shadow visor over his eyes, and glanced once in the mirror to confirm he hadn’t missed anything in his preparation. He took his daggers and a drawstring pack full of belongings, and made for Castrum Occidens.

@the-faceless-ffxiv