#berrod armstrong

[berrodarmstrong]

Berrod Armstrong, smiting in Rhalgr's name. Art by yours truly!

[tiergan-vashir]

A gift for @berrodarmstrong! Had to make a new portrait to replace the old one from 2014. :) You have been a deeply appreciated and important friend to me throughout the years and I'm absolutely psyched you at last get to have your character look as you always wanted him to!

[berryarmstrong]

POC WoL Week Prompt 4: Dressed to Impress

Characters Featured: Brooker Bandersnatch, Berrod Armstrong, Braun the Ronso, Nikolai Adanika.

*takes a deep ramblebreath*

I love suits and other contemporary western formal wear. Still, when I sat to contemplate dressing to impress in terms of PoC WoL week, I couldn’t help but wonder -- who are my characters dressing to impress, and why are they worth the effort? I realised then that snazzy suits would be useless. Things are different for these cultured, dark-skinned (or furred) characters who don’t have to answer to real world western conventions. 

Brooker for example, dresses to show that he is a capable spellcaster and a proud Hellsguard Roegadyn. Gems, leaves, feathers, sturdy fabric, aetheroconductive metals, amplifying foci -- everything he wears is meant to let someone know that they can rely on him if curative or offensive magic is needed. His arms are displayed as well, in typical Roegadyn fashion -- those muscles are meant to communicate strength. 

Berrod’s armour is traditionally Ala Mhigan -- aggressively so, much like everything else about him. It cuts an impressive figure and is adorned with prayer sigils forged from aetheroconductive metals to help make sure that his swordplay is backed by effective spellcasting. That, and he needs the help, honestly. The striking colours of the cloth tied to it are meant to dazzle an opponent during the dance of combat, much like the asymmetrical flowing fabrics he wore as a monk. He dresses to let his allies know that they can count on him and his oath to protect -- and to let enemies know that he will be a formidable foe. 

Braun dresses to impress in a particuarly different way. His arms, shoulders and midsection are on display to attract clients, while his trousers and boots are meant to show that he’s also ready to get other kinds of work done if need be. Braun exudes sexuality -- it’s not only essential to his work, but it’s also a part of himself that he is proud of and holds in high regard. It isn’t something to be ashamed of for him, but a very valid source of power and control.

Nikolai dresses as many warriors do. He’s taken much from Hellsguard tradition and applied it to himself -- the display of muscles while also utilizing plate in all the right places for protection; furs and fabrics that mark him as a capable hunter as well as fighter. He dresses to let everyone know what he is -- a hulking, powerful beast of a man who will cut down any and all who stand against him. 

So yeah, as much as I love suits and formal wear of the western persuasion, for me and my characters dressing to impress means so much more than that stuff! 

[diskwrite-ffxiv]

A portrait for @berrodarmstrong of the eponymous Highlander, Berrod Armstrong!

It brings me so much joy to see you going forth and living your BEST LIFE, making your character look the way you always wanted him to be. Watching you go through this journey has been an honor, and I appreciate your friendship very much.

[moonlit-endeavors]

Super quick shots with @mythrilreflections @berrodtherapscallion and @cirtai / @lissanaria

for PoC Wol Week, Day 3: Adventure!!

Yes, I’m making 2 posts, the rules don’t say I can’t!

[jancisstuff]

Meeting Lerone

[gregoshorner]

Double or Nothing Casino - Triple Triad (2/2)

Thank you to the Astral Advent and our hosts, Clover Greenwoode and Gigimai Zuzumai! Gregos had fun helping out the Triple Triad Tournament. (2/2). Here are all of the participants (sorry if I missed anyone!).

[friendly-fire-engaged]

Farewell

Martin had never been particularly great with expressing his feelings. Perhaps that was what made writing these letters so difficult. 

Not for a lack of thoughts; he had plenty of those. Over the past days Martin had filtered his plan through his head over and over again, considering consequences, risks, back-up ideas, exit plans. He was as prepared to face Sandwalker as he could possibly be. Putting farewells in writing, however, added finality to his plans. It meant acknowledging that he might never come home to explain himself. That was what hindered his words.

When he finally mustered the will to write, he started with his teacher. For Autgar, he kept his letter straightforward and simple: 

I'm sorry I didn't have your back at Ghimlyt Dark, but knowing you, I'm sure you were more than capable of handling yourself. With any luck, we'll have conquered both our foes today. If not, thank you for having faith in me when few else did. -Martin

Berrod's letter is more clipped:

You know what I've done and probably can guess at why I did it. I don't regret my decision. What I'm doing here is as much for everyone's sake as it is for mine. Don't you dare accuse me of acting without their interests at heart. You can chew me out all you want when I'm home. If I come home at all, it means I won. -Martin

For Flora, he embarrasses himself writing wishy-washy reassurances:

I'm sorry for leaving the burden of responsibility for her on your shoulders, but I know you'll carry it for the both of us if I'm gone. I'll try not to be long. 

Take care of her, and yourself as well. Remember to eat. -Martin

With their letters signed and sealed, Martin tucks  away for safekeeping, hidden in his locker in the Agent’s Ala Mhigan office. Luck permitting, he'd be back in time to trash the notes before anyone would think to look through it.

This leaves him with one final letter, and for Suhee, he struggles the longest. There is so, so much he has to say to her, none of it fit for a note he might never get to follow up on. A heartsick confession? An apology? How could he look her in the eye when she woke up, knowing the face of her teacher's killer? Knowing he had been an indirect accomplice to her misery?

How much blood stained his hands from his days fighting under Imperial flags? How many girls like Suhee did he rob of teachers and father figures? They all knew what he had done as a Skull, sure, but none of the misdeeds had ever had a personal face attached to them. Not until now.

He owed this to them, Suhee most of all. It was time to right a past mistake.

In the end, he can’t bear the thought of a farewell note. Instead, he leaves her a promise; a short, scrawled note on her bedside table with words he’ll do his best to fulfill:

See you soon. -Martin

[astraladvent]

Milo and Berrod had an interesting spar under the Thanalan sun. Viktor came by to watch and ended up providing aid via potions when they both eventually beat each other into the dirt -- he also provided a demonstration of his chakrams. It was a fun time overall. 

[suwanbuwan]

@berrodtherapscallion three years and seven months ago our fortune was read and I’m still waiting for that fortune teller’s predictions to come true. XD

[borklords]

AAAAAAA. @barabait drew a lovely sketch of @berrodtherapscallion ‘s boy Berrod and Milo uh... Hanging out at the gym. Milo should probably be working out but. Well. Those high kicks. 

[berrodarmstrong]

"It's a lot, but it's worth it."

[tiergan-vashir]

RP Moments during Stormblood

@locke-rinannis @mischiefandmystics @zaiusrhalseer @berrodtherapscallion

[berryarmstrong]

POC WoL Week Prompt 6: Trusty Steed

Characters Featured: Berrod Armstrong and his chocobo, Thunder.

Berrod acquired Thunder as a...company chocobo at first, to help him travel to the places he needed to go for work. Their relationship got off to a rocky start. They kicked each other a lot. Over the years, however, they have formed a bond of trust though their experiences and growing respect for one another. 

That said -- ramble time.

It was just an odd thought as I took these screenshots, of how easily and readily I changed the chocobo’s colour to what I wanted. Red! Berrod’s whole theme revolves around red and purple, and at the time I thought red suited his chocobo best. Even after Stormblood released and I saw that the resistance chocobos were purple, I was still happy with Thunder’s red. 

I really wish I had the courage to have done the same with Berrod back then, instead of hiding from it. Still, it’s never too late. This prompt week has been a blessing. The support I got to make Berrod what I’ve always wanted him to be has been overwhelming, and I went through with it. I spent like three days changing a bunch of recent art -- I’m still not done! There’s a couple more I want to do. I took a lot of new screenshots for his carrd. The important bits have been updated, but it’ll take a while for me to get enough screens of him to replace the old. 

It’s been a very motivating experience. 

[its-the-val-pal]

There is a violence within you that calls to Us, a sweet song that plays in Our ears. Do you find it difficult to contain or do you let it out whenever you fancy? Would you use it in defense of those you love or would you wield it as a weapon against those who have wronged you? Such talent could be used, could be molded into something far greater. Do not turn from Our sight - let Us come closer. Let Us shelter you from the storm. Let Us save her just for you.

Pain. It was a universal feeling, Val had found. Everyone felt pain. And unless an individual was particularly messed up in the head, everyone largely wanted to avoid it. That was part of why Val lashed out at people. If they annoyed him, he hurt them. It was a ridiculously successful deterrent.

That’s why he was in the midst of leaving one of the darker Ul'dahn back alleys now, a nondescript nobleman laying in its dark confines, its shadows covering him like a thick blanket. Val only vaguely recalled what he looked like, and only because those certain aspects of him annoyed him. His mustache was weird. He had one of those dumb half-eyeglasses things (Faye had told him it was a monocle). His clothing was too pristine and his teeth were too white. Or maybe he just smiled too much. Probably both, really. What had really pissed him off the most is that he had been flirting with his betrothed.

It happened often enough that Val was usually able to ignore it, which was saying a great deal about how often it occurred in the first place. Most people were the same; it’s is why he often found them to be fairly predictable. One individual would see her standing there, seemingly pristine and draped in fine ivory garments. Well-mannered, soft-spoken, polite. They thought she was lost, or didn’t belong, or that they could take her, or that since she was there alone then she must be alone.

Val often watched them talk to her from a distance. A soft touch here or there, testing the waters, seeing what she would let them get away with. She would always entertain them, loving the power she had over simple men. Then, when Val had gotten tired of observing, he would step over and introduce himself. Sometimes, and almost always immediately, the men politely excused themselves. Other times they scoffed at the Seeker and mentioned how they wouldn’t expect a woman like her to be with a man like him. And a Miqo’te, at that! What a waste, they had claimed.

Most of the time Val was able to let it go. The men would wander off and either ignore her altogether or continue to try and contact her while poking and prodding Val, assuming him to be little more than a broken animal that Faye held on a tight leash. They assumed that because he did nothing, he would do nothing. Sometimes, they poked enough that Faye eventually let her wolf off of that leash, knowing good and well that one must be bitten before they realize their boundaries. Other times, Val happened across them on the streets where no one could chastise him otherwise. It also didn’t help that Val was particularly angry as of late.

“Indulge in something you enjoy, or abstain from something you need,” Berrod had told him. Well, Val had always indulged in everything he enjoyed. Alcohol and sex, mainly, but he also loved to fight. He’d lately been tempering his alcohol at his beloved’s request, and he hadn’t found himself in many battles as of late. That left only one thing for him to abstain from, and boy was it difficult.

So difficult, in fact, that he’d forced himself to stay away from Faye. He did not sleep in the same bed as her for fear of temptation and, while they spent time together, he was careful to not get particularly close. He missed her, of course. He always did. And yet, he knew that this was a necessity. He needed to do it in order to get stronger and fulfill his duty. But how much longer would he have to go?

He shrugged off his thoughts as he walked, hands shoved partially into his pant’s pockets as he rounded the corner. He replayed the fight in his head. Truly, the nobleman hadn’t been much. Few of them were, after all. Most lived pampered lives and barely saw any real combat. Even those that did tended to would often beat themselves. They took three moves to do something that could be accomplished in one. A swing of the arm too wide, or doing some weird flip; few seemed to realize that the best way to win was to take out your opponent as quickly as possible. Being flashy didn’t mean anything if it got you killed.

This man hadn’t been much different, really. As he expected, the man’s cane–which was another thing that annoyed Val–carried a hidden blade. He whipped it out as Val passed by and made a few quick jabs, taunting him. Val watched him, those mismatched eyes of blue and gold focused entirely on the man’s chest, backing up with each strike, making the man believe he was scared. He failed to change up his strikes and Val foresaw another jab of the cane. He stepped in, catching it beneath his arm and delivering a powerful fist to the bridge of the man’s nose in a single motion.

Disable the enemy. It was something his tribe had taught him long ago, back when he needed to hunt game in the Shroud for survival. His pack–as they called themselves in honor of the animal they’d taken their namesake from–often fought creatures much larger than them, so they had to work together. Attack when one least expected it, work as a group, and always strike to kill or disable. It was effective, as now the man could scarcely see between the tears that filled his eyes thanks to his newly broken nose. Oh, and the pain.

Val was fairly certain that the man hadn’t felt much pain before. He recalled how he’d begged for Val to stop, apologizing for what he’d done. But the Seeker didn’t care. Not really. He needed to vent his frustrations, and unfortunately Mr. ‘Stache had been the one to tip the scales that day. Val let him keep the mustache, but he took a few of his teeth. Well, he didn’t take them, per se. But he did make sure he’d be missing a few when he regained consciousness.

There is a violence within you that calls to Us, a sweet song that plays in Our ears. Do you find it difficult to contain or do you let it out whenever you fancy?

Val paused, the tips of his ears immediately standing up and satellite-dishing this way and that. His body suddenly grew rigid, the hands in his pockets clenching into fists. He remained perfectly still, a skill that he had long-since practiced as a child and had never left him. He was brash and irrational and angry, but he was also a tempered warrior. He knew when he could play and when he should be cautious.

So for now, Val remained still. It felt as if it were right beside him, and yet he was alone. Cautiously, Val turned his head toward the dark alley he’d left, eyes narrowing out. Yep, Mr. ‘Stache was still there. So who was contacting him? Better yet, where were they contacting him from? Was this just his imagination? Clearly his lack of sex was getting to him and it was all in his he–

Would you use it in defense of those you love or would you wield it as a weapon against those who have wronged you?

A shiver ran down the Miqo'te’s spine and he began to move onward. Typically, he preferred to get the jump on his prey. In times when he knew someone–or some thing–was watching him, there was little one could do aside from move on. If the thing was going to attack him, he couldn’t stop it. He could only hope to draw whatever it was out by feigning ignorance.

Such talent could be used, could be molded into something far greater. Do not turn from Our sight - let Us come closer. Let Us shelter you from the storm.

The voices echoed in his head once again, this time forcing him to pause once more. Were they offering him.. power? Training, perhaps? Moreso than he’d already been undergoing? He’d often wondered where he would go after this. Training with Berrod had certainly been helpful, but what would there be after? When would he reach his plateau? It was a fear he’d often had.

Let Us save her just for you.

Weakness was a cancer. Val didn’t care for most people because he found them to be particularly weak and unable to survive. He didn’t care if they lived or died, or that they existed, but he didn’t surround himself with weak-willed individuals. That was another thing his tribal life had taught him. The Shroud was a tough place to live for those that kept themselves away from society. People that did not carry their own weight in the tribe would not eat, and if they did not eat they would die. Even though he had long since left that life behind, it was something he continued to believe in to this day.

And that is why the Seeker let out a low, guttural growl at the voice’s next offer. Claiming the Seeker to be unable to fulfill his duty had been a mistake. Had They simply offered him a chance to continue to improve, They may have very well been capable of persuading Val to join them. But in claiming that the Miqo’te could not keep her safe on his own, they claimed Val to be weak. And that was an insult on par with what Mr. ‘Stache had done earlier. 

@the-faceless-ffxiv, @fair-fae, @berrodtherapscallion

[sarijrahzersyn]

End of Agent: Two Meetings

(Events took place before Broken Tool)

Due to the situation of him being legally dead but still unofficially wanted by the Maelstrom, Sarij’s visits to the Astral Place tended to be limited to short job briefings or meetings with the entire company. So when smaller meetings occur they tend to take place at Rhlagr’s Reach.

Sterrbhar, who had been looking into the the matters of Sarij’s arrest which broke his plea bargain with the Maelstrom and the matters of Balthius’s continued incarceration. The Hellsguard Maelstrom officer met with both Sarij and Berrod in the Reach to discuss his findings.

Unfortunately, Balthius seemed to being held at a higher pay grade than his rank would allow, or at least it was deemed ‘not his business.’ He was able to find better luck with prodding into the matter of Sarij’s arrest. The reporter who had broken the story about Blutvyse being on the seas once more, suddenly seemed to be allowed attend and report on more exclusive events, a sign of bribery. However, the corruption did not seem to end there. Bloodied Heart acted against the higher ups to get the details about the supposed sightings of Blutvyse assisting the Razor. His vendetta led him to a meeting at the Silver Bazaar south of Ul’dah. Very few witnesses cooperated with Sterrbhar with divulging details, but a few remarked about a dark skinned blond highlander Immortal Flames soldier with a much larger, likely Roegadyn, man. Sterrbhar concluded that Bloodied Heart was duped with false information that led to Sarij’s arrest; a dupe he gladly let happen due to a personal vendetta against Blutvyse.

After Sarij had to depart for a time, Berrod and Sterrbhar discussed added details from his investigations and what to do going further. Naturally, with the pair of them together discussions lead to matters of Monks while standing underneath the statue of Rhalgr.

Many bells later when the light was beginning to fade from the horizon, Sarij returned to the place he met Sterrbhar and Berrod for a second meeting. Crooked Tarot arrived in his theatrical style of cloak and dagger, which Sarij assured was not needed, but the Highlander countered with ‘I like it.’

Their meeting was more directly related to the matter of Iron Jaw and the possibility of him having damning financial ties that could link him to the Spinner’s Shears and ultimately destroying his reputation and exonerating the Astral Agents at the same time. Unfortunately, Iron Jaw seemed to be clean as a whistle. All of his financial dealings were well within non-suspicious ranges. Even when the man was in direct control of the Astral Agency every meeting with other Free Company heads was reported and recorded in transactions.

The meetings with the other companies piqued both Sarij and Crooked’s interest. The former director instructed the highlander to investigate what he could into the companies Iron Jaw met and ones he had control of in general. He also urged the man to look into members of the companies that left after Iron Jaw took over. With his orders, Crooked departed as sneakily as he arrived.

@astralagency @redsunscrawls @berrodarmstrong @crooked-tarot-rp