cynical acumen

Soren, affiliated with The Officer’s Academy, Golden Deer Student

[theofficersacademy]

My muses have been dropping like leaves this month as I evaluate my life's schedule and priorities, and it's time to admit that this was coming no matter what for me.

At just about 3 years and had I done upcoming claims, 69 skill points, Soren has won RP and it's time to let him go home. I have other projects I'm putting my creative time and energy into and with my goals being shifted towards the long work of original writing and trying to purposefully improve aspects of writing that RP just can't do, it's what's best for me right now.

It's hard to send, and I hope that those of you I've gotten to know over the past years will still be in touch/a friend to me. Our fellow writers are what matter, less the muses that they write.

I think getting Soren to a place where he's been happy was both challenging LOL and a very rewarding set of arcs to write, and with that I'd like to drop Soren.

Soren has been dropped and is now available!

- Mod N

[atypicalsenerio]

Sleep offers little respite against the pains of the waking world. You drift off, and always you feel as though you are being scrutinized, but when you drift back into consciousness, the feeling fades, not unlike the coming and going of the tide.

One restless night, you are at last approached by The Watcher.

"You have a decision to make."

A feast materializes before you. You can smell it, can nearly taste it, you can feel the warmth and care put into every bite.

You already know, whatever the decision ahead, you can only choose one.

Little mage, forging your future with your own hands,

There is something you can't do without.

Will you starve, or will you forever forsake choice?

Soren knew they were all growing desperate. He could wear the same face he always did, soldiering on, wondering how close to death he'd have to get this time before catching a break.

The creature before him, The Watcher, does not offer explanations or sympathy, but a choice- a choice that could be the final one he ever had to make again. The feast laid before him was enticing. Soren folded his arms and took in the generous spread, wondering what would drive a being to be so cruel as to demand so much for what it could so easily conjure.

"I hardly see how the terms of such a deal are fair."

If he was honest, he hadn't had much choice lately. Democracy as he'd known it in the past couple weeks had felt frustrating at best, though he was still in better condition than some. He had little left to live for, and all of their options were grim.

What would it be like to truly have no choice at all? Never again- a bold claim.

And what use was free will if he was dead of starvation?

Soren had always liked to make things difficult.

"My death out here seems likely," he admitted. "However, if my willpower was traded away, it would then seem certain. Aside from death, I've spent time as a thing before, and would rather not do so again. I can not accept."

He turned his back on the feast and The Watcher.

"But you could have helped us, if you'd wanted."

[freedomarrow]

You, Me, And My Bestie The Horrors || Leonardo, Micaiah & Soren

[freedomarrow]

@frauleindermorgen @atypicalsenerio

It is rare for Leonardo to wander aimlessly, but he finds himself doing just that. While he remains on the lookout for any chance to gather anything that could pass for food, or simply spot anything useful or meaningful, there is a nagging voice in his head assuring him repeatedly that his efforts are destined to be fruitless.

So he keeps trying, but at the same time, he does not really, because there is no point.

Years have passed since he last felt this hopeless. Has he ever felt this hopeless, actually? Perhaps when his school was destroyed, or when the Dawn Brigade was fleeing for their lives from the Begnion soldiers' clutches. When was that, anyway? How long has passed since then?

Does it matter?

His hand wanders into his pocket, his fingers rubbing across the journal gifted to him by Edward.

Yes, it does. We need to make it out.

His steps eventually take him to the small graveyard, where he stops a certain distance away, realizing that Soren and Micaiah are there, paying their respects. Best not to disturb them during this time, so he resolves to wait...

Roll: 3. Leonardo has been spotted

... until movement flashes in the corner of his eye, grabbing his attention and prompting his arm to reach for his bow, albeit a little more sluggishly than normally due to the tiredness. The shadow retreats swiftly, but the blond can still see it - concealed behind the ruins of an old house, its eyes firmly fixed on him.

Unease rises in his chest. It feels terrifying, and yet at the same time, he feels as though he should want to meet it. (Maybe he is finally going insane.)

Once he finally manages to tear his eyes away from the shadow, he notices that Soren and Micaiah have finished, and so he makes his way over to them.

"Um, I hope I'm not intruding. Are you two busy? That... thing others were talking in the village. I think I saw it just now."

He glances behind his shoulder, over to where he last saw it.

It is still there, unmoving.

[frauleindermorgen]

"We were just about finished," Micaiah reassured Leonardo, readjusting the bag on her hip as she did so. There's tension in the air but even for Micaiah it's difficult to tell where it might be coming from, and why.

(Perhaps the village itself was the source of that uneasy feeling. There was a thought).

“The beast?” Micaiah says, for lack of anything else to call it. “Where?”

When she and Soren look in the direction Leonardo indicated nothing seemed to stir; Micaiah frowned anyway, for she had always trusted her archer’s eyesight more than her own.

“Let’s not venture far in that case… weapons ready?”

Perhaps an unnecessary warning, but it’s what she says as she takes the lead. And they are all silent as they continue forward - alert, and continuously unsettled, though once Micaiah finds a few small nettles at the side of the road she waves to her companions.

“There could be food here,” insects is what she means, but the nettles might come in handy too, stooping down she slowly picks hr way throughth path

Roll: 3. Failed to find food.

And that’s when she feels it. The unmistakable sensation of eyes upon her.

Roll: 3. Micaiah has also has been spotted

“We’re being watched,” she says, quietly to her two companions.

[atypicalsenerio]

Roll: 1

Soren followed them out of the village, nerves tight. He still had dirt to brush off his palms, trying to free himself of the graveyard but not feeling as though they'd left out.

He glanced in the direction of the supposed beast, sensing movement but not able to make out the silhouette.

Crouching down in the nettles, he looked around for anything potentially edible, even taking the nettles themselves to dry for tea. He squinted, bringing a fistful of berries into his palm. "Well... it's something."

Soren stood up, bringing the others closer. "It hasn't moved... just stay close."

@freedomarrow

[frauleindermorgen]

despair and grace they share a face

[frauleindermorgen]

week 3 paralogue with soren

If Pelleas were here he would know what flowers to offer to help guide the souls of Euphorie and her children onto the next life; but Micaiah, selfishly, is glad he is not — lately she is not entirely sure if she herself is, after all.

(The hunger pangs and fatigue from the journey are real enough, but they had been that way before too. Before waking back up at Garreg Mach. Micaiah does not want to cling to such a promise but in some way she does).

The graveyard is a simple one, situated outside the “doctor’s” house where Nephele’s lone plot once lay; everyone in the village had agreed it only made sense for the mother and two children to rest together.

Micaiah sets down the small buds she had salvaged from the mice in their garden, one for each plot; she thinks of spider lilies and prays that in some way this token may lead the three souls toward safe passage (She prays they drift and rest far, far away from here).

When she opens her eyes, Soren is still beside her as he has been all this time; she gazes up at him, not attempting to hide the sorrow in her expression; “do you want to say any words? It’s not always necessary for a prayer, but…”

[atypicalsenerio]

Soren didn't have many words to say.

Mostly, he was thankful that there was anyone willing to kneel in the dirt at all for their fallen companions. Civilization was marked by a willingness to grieve, to lay down flowers or at least scraps of nonviable buds.

To attempt to heal those who were struggling, whose outlooks were always grim.

In essence, to have hope.

And then, to face grief.

He was expressionless. "I don't even know who they would have wanted us to pray to. Ashunera comes to mind for us. For me, even Greil, if there exists a benevolence in the realm of spirits who have moved beyond us." Shifting on his knees, he sighed. It was for them, not for him. "Whoever may be listening, may they have more peace than they did in this life."

With that, he kept kneeling but sat back, hands folded pensively.

It was odd, sharing this with Micaiah. It was also the most fitting.

"There was a time I scoffed at those who followed you, you know." Soren let his fingertips drag in the freshly unearthed dirt. "Whatever abilities you possessed, I saw your power as a symbol. It did not matter whether or not you were a fraud, only that people believed in you. How foolish, I'd thought. And yet...

"I sit here now looking to you for similar reasons, some light in the dark. The irony isn't lost on me."

[atypicalsenerio]

—we're all gonna die

Soren sat by the slightly glowing blue river, watching as the evening light made the running water seem to dance. He hugged his knees to his chest, his pitcher of water next to him, having drunk his fill to try and stave off any feeling of hunger, knowing a half portion would still be lacking.

He forced himself to breathe evenly with scientific discipline, but his heart still raced with hot fury, frustration drawing his fingernails to his palms, curled into tight fists.

He'd made it out of so many tight spots before, what was so wrong now?

As staff officer, he'd always had ears who would listen to him. Perhaps not always agree, but listen.

They had no leader, no core of sanity, even. Soren knew he didn't have the charisma to win over their group. Those who did listen to him didn't need a veneer of polish and smiles to hear him, and those who gravitated towards the superficial looked over his head. He'd done all he could.

Micaiah here was not the Silver Maiden, just a girl who couldn't afford to use her miracles if she had to. Sigurd was a lord of some kind, and though not Soren's first choice of blue men, a decent kind of leader who might have been able to get through to the most obtuse of the knights had he not been struggling to even stand.

He missed Ike.

Even further back, he missed Greil.

Every dig at Soren himself, no matter the gravity, every consideration that not even Soren had made back in the day that would have never floated at Greil's table, it all swirled around in his mind as he laid back, staring at the sky.

"Don't flatter yourself and consider it a prayer, wherever you are, but if this was meant to be a lesson, it's learned. Get us out of here. If you can hear me, or maybe just Micaiah, do it for your favored one's sake."

[frauleindermorgen]

to the walls i built around you

Roll 1d10 for every post after your starter. Starting with your third post (including your starter), with every post, add +1 to your d10 +1 counter resets after +5 1-8: carry on 9-10+: ping key

[frauleindermorgen]

Roll: 1 (+3) = 4 "Mm," Micaiah acknowledges as Soren clumsily references Pelleas, mouth slanting upward slowly into an amused smile she hides with more attentive brushing. When Soren leaves suddenly; she does not think much of it, the house needed tended and it wasn't as if she had expected half of her philosophical musings to be answered.

"Oh?" She says, a little unsettled at Soren being... well, some level unsettled (it was still difficult to tell even for her).

"You're right," she says, slowly as she follows him into the apparently occupied room, "I am not sure I would have believed you had you merely described this to me."

She draws closer, though just shy of actually touching the corpse; it's clear enough even from this far away his life force has long since left but that did not at all explain the state of the body.

"The color... I have no explanation for but despite whatever's happened to the body look at the bed beneath it."

Hard as it was to tear her gaze away Micaiah did so, nodding at the sagging mattress and the indentation in it that signified time had indeed passed during this odd shroud of death

"The room shows evidence of decay if not the corpse.... I could move it to find out more, but somehow I don't think that's a good idea. Maybe we should first check the rest of the house "

[atypicalsenerio]

Roll: 3+3=6

Soren stood a few inches from the bed, hands behind his back, also wary of touching anything. He didn't enjoy the idea of leaving the corpse in the house with them, but he also couldn't know if the supernatural seeming cause of death could be transmitted at all by touch. He nodded at her idea.

"Yes. We'd best leave no ground uncovered."

He searched room to room, opening closets and checking under beds. It seemed that only the one bedroom had a body within it. A lack of other corpses should have been a relief, but it didn't lighten his mood at all.

Returning to her, he wore the same pensive frown. "There doesn't seem to be others in plain sight, at least." He hesitated. "Perhaps it would be best if we slept near enough to each other to keep watch over the others as we sleep. It may seem odd, but... practical, if death potentially comes so suddenly here. Someone may be able to prevent it, or see what those asleep can't."

[atypicalsenerio]

Devastating: The Worst People You Know Have Faith Ranks [Griss & Soren]

[twistedisciple]

People can be more than one thing at once. Griss looked at Soren and frowned while his head was turned, then at Brizo as he settled back into sleep. Defense for the defenseless? The innocent? Griss knew he was neither of those things.

"If the kid wants to hate me, let 'im," he said with a snort when Soren turned back to him again. "Hate'll get him through a lot more in life than forgiveness ever will, that's for sure. Hell, if he wants to try to kill me for his sister's sake, then all he's gotta do is get over this fever first. Spite's as good a cure as any!"

A declaration punctuated by a grating laugh was Griss' calling card, undermining seriousness, patching holes where concern could slip in, and stitching shut space for argument. He had the bravado and confidence of lived experience, but without the penchant for lecturing wisdom as a true sage might. If Soren disagreed, that was fine. Most people did, and by now Griss was used to it. Returning to uncorking bottles like what he'd just said was hardly less commonplace than a comment on the weather, he knew he wasn't convincing anyone. No one but himself, that is.

The label on one of the bottles had worn nearly completely away from use, and that was what had guided Griss to it to begin with. Something the doctor would have used often was likely a good addition to an anti-fever brew, if inflammation was as common here as he knew it had been among the sick in the fell monastery back in Elusia, but he still needed to be sure. With a pop of the top, he emptied a small portion of its contents into the palm of his hand, set the bottle down, and then pushed the dried leaves around with his finger.

Momentarily distracted, his eyes darted sharply, even a little eagerly, toward Soren when he brought up how strange the village had felt.

"You can say that again." Although a corpse hadn't exactly been the comparison Griss had made himself. It was the way everyone else acted that looked funny to him, settling in like they planned to live here for gods-knew-how-long. "The whole place seems like it was abandoned in a hurry. Whatever got the locals here to leave might still be a problem."

Euphorie returned, and Griss took Soren's cue to stop talking. He had medicine to test, anyway, and went back to poking at the herbs in his hand. Dried something, he knew for sure, so he threw the whole thing into his mouth.

Bitter. So bitter. He winced, chewed, then spit the clump onto the floor.

"Yeah, that'll fix a fever."

Medicine roll: 3 Collected: 3

[atypicalsenerio]

Soren listened, expression blank. He'd had his share of hatred and spite, originating from outside and within. Griss had found something to revel in, a sort of dangerous high Soren couldn't disagree was potent, powerful.

But like fire, it was inconsistent, subject to the whims of wind and rain, a race to see whether the smoke choked out everything around it or if the world could douse it first. He doubted Griss liked cautionary tales.

"It's a strong motivator, but it consumes, including the host." Soren shrugged, light in tone. "I prefer to find something sustainable from the start. Turns out there's not a lot of money in revenge."

Make it something practical rather than admit he had something of a soul.

At last, they seemed to be getting somewhere. It was unnverving having all of Griss's erratic attention focused on him, but Soren made an effort to not show it. The prickling at his neck wasn't what he felt around other Branded, but something he wished to avoid when possible. The universe did not care to let him get his wishes. "Yes. There's more here than we can predict- a total loss of life, or an evacuation, too quick to bring necessities to survive, yet with no signs of skirmishes or struggle. I'd prefer to not stay, but I'm only one vote."

Micaiah had asked him about ghosts, and Soren wasn't sure he fully believed in those, but he did believe in the potential of horrors beyond his understanding.

He observed Griss try the medicine and spit it out, head bowed to the moist lump of herbs on the floor. Euphorie's expression behind him was one of outright disgust, shocked into silence.

"How scientific." Soren reached for the bottle of the rest of the herbs, pouring some into the simmering water, watching it tint the water like brewing tea. "Stronger dose? Or is this right?"

Medicine Roll: 3 Collected: 3

[frauleindermorgen]

to the walls i built around you

Roll 1d10 for every post after your starter. Starting with your third post (including your starter), with every post, add +1 to your d10 +1 counter resets after +5 1-8: carry on 9-10+: ping key

[frauleindermorgen]

Roll: 6 (+1)

"Is it odd?" Micaiah mused. "I think it's natural to wonder about the people who used to live in this village, and how the might feel about us using the homes they made."

The makeshift broom she's put together out of reeds (or the equivalent she could find in the canyon valley) is a bit unwieldy but she starts brushing dust out through the front door as she speaks.

"Spirits certainly exist, but those are different from souls wouldn't you agree? After all, the spirits charmers use feed on a user's soul."

The party of people with them was proof souls existed in some way, suspended for a time, but Micaiah was beginning to think that the people of Fodlan lived by their own rules.

"I would argue gods are closer to spirits in that way. Yune certainly never liked being compared to a ghost," she says, pausing to lean on her "broom". "I suppose it's possible only people who refuse to let go of their old life linger like that."

[atypicalsenerio]

Roll: 8+2=10

"If you expect me to care about the feelings of the dead when I can barely muster that for the living, you'll be disappointed," said Soren dryly. Perhaps she was trying to ask if he thought their new house was haunted.

Soren looked down at where he'd been planning to put his sleeping bag. Wouldn't it be better to use a bedroom rather than the open common area?

"Yes. Unfortunately for our mutual... guy," he floundered, not knowing exactly what to call Pelleas to Micaiah, or even how he'd tell people about his connection to Pelleas without a longwinded disclaimer, half of it unfit for most anyone to know.

He left the room. Hurriedly.

He came back just as hurriedly.

"Micaiah, you're not going to believe this."

Well, maybe she would. Soren propped the door open, leading into a bedroom where the owner was still in bed, corpse tinted blue. He grimaced. "Maybe I will sleep in the living room, near the door. Or at least in a room with you or Leonardo." He wasn't scared, just practical. "It seems it happened quite suddenly."

An idea... "You wouldn't happen to have any insights?"

[atypicalsenerio]

Devastating: The Worst People You Know Have Faith Ranks [Griss & Soren]

[twistedisciple]

Griss set the mortar down in favor of the basket and all of its new goodies. He plucked out a roll of bandages, a couple of empty vials, dug down to the bottom and found a nearly-emptied bottle of vinegar, but none of it seemed to interest him.

"Something for a fever, huh..." So Brizo wasn't like that because he was scared, and Euphorie was like that because she was, probably. Death lived with the sick and injured, and for all of Griss' outward callousness, he knew - at least internally - that losing so much back to back could make a person go crazy; Euphorie was holding on to whatever she had left. But that was her business, and he didn't really care what happened in the end, only that he did the job Soren told him to do and then Soren paid him for it.

Even though Soren's promise of payment had been tenuous and vague at best. Whatever. Griss was pretty good at hounding people until they gave him what he wanted, in the end.

He pushed the basket and all the things he'd pulled out of it into a pile at the edge of the table and turned to the cabinets Soren had opened instead.

"The doc musta died or something to leave this bounty behind," Griss remarked as he took in the well-stocked shelves. There were all sorts of dried herbs, colorful pellets, labeled jars, silver tools, and even reference books crammed into any place they'd fit. He started pulling out bottles and sorting them into one of three piles on the counter. Occasionally, he'd read the labels, but mostly he seemed guided by some instinct belied by the reputation of a man whose skill lied in taking lives instead of saving them.

Once he'd nearly emptied the entire cabinet, he gathered three jars from one unspoken category with both hands and carried them over to Soren. He slid them onto the table and put a hand on his hip, confident, maybe even a little proud. He could get a job done if someone told him to do it.

"Just need boiling water and that fever's as good as gone."

Medicine roll: 3 Collected: 3

[atypicalsenerio]

Soren didn't disagree with Griss's assumption, but he wasn't sure how far he wanted to go in discussing it, Euphorie's presence a weight on his mind. He didn't need to add more worry to her burdens.

"This place is remarkably well stocked," he commented in return, pulling out larger vials of oils and liquids from a lower shelf. With their combined effort, it was becoming clear that they had more supplies than Soren had dared to be optimistic about. If Brizo could be cured, he might even feel fully relieved for a few precious hours, something he hadn't had since the entire ordeal began.

At Griss's statement, Soren turned to Euphorie, handing her a pot. "The stream isn't far, if you could fetch water for us." She looked like was about to protest, looking between Brizo, Soren, and Griss. "Please."

She left, and Soren sighed, resuming his work.

Brizo stirred in his bed, eyes opening for a few moments. "Huh?"

"You'll have medicine soon," said Soren.

Brizo squinted, as if he was unsure if Griss was really there next to Soren. "Is... that man here?"

"Yes. He's a healer."

Brizo frowned, eyes closing again. "No."

"People can be more than one thing at once," said Soren. "In fact, they usually are." Brizo didn't argue, but still frowned.

They likely had only a few moments before Euphorie was back. Soren emptied out one of the cupboards, adding more larger bottles and jars to the counter. "Everywhere in this town has felt off," he muttered to Griss. "Like we're living in a corpse ourselves, yet it's that or back to the wilderness."

Euphorie walked in with the water, setting it on the stove and immediately returning to Brizo. Soren lit the fire under it, hoping for all their sakes that the medicine would be ready quickly.

Medicine Roll: 3 Collected: 3

[atypicalsenerio]

Dig Up Dirt [Team Pi OPEN]

[carefreemonk]

Azama is also unoccupied, though how surprising that was depends on the given day and whether or not he'd already had a second nap. And on whether his boss at the academy was watching. (Lady Hinoka knew better. An Azama without his daily naps, plural, is no Azama at all!)

"I think our Soren would make the best funny noises," he speculated as he drew nearer, hands typically pristine dark with dirt. His poor nails... Well, there's something humbling and cathartic about playing with earth, feeling it slip through your fingers.

There's something cathartic about getting a rise out of people too, though.

One arm wrapped around Python's shoulder, half rotten potato in hand, followed by a mass of fluffy hair intended to tickle.

They'd have to be crafty if they wanted to catch the young mage unawares. Can't just run up and yank on his hood and hope for the best. Not unless they got desperate. It will take time, and a lamb willing to take one for the team...

Chiron watches movement behind Python with innocent eyes wide with anticipation.

"We should have something to compare it to, first. A baseline of funny noises. For science."

And down the hatch (back of Python's shirt) goes the worm.

[atypicalsenerio]

Soren had come a long way to improve his worldview, and the presence of both Python and Azama was threatening to undo it all in an afternoon.

He ignored them as best as he could, not giving them the satisfaction of a reaction. He set aside a few potatoes, continuing to dig in the small plot for more food. He made a face of disgust as their antics with Chiron continued, and Soren only caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye as Azama lined up the worm and the back of Python's shirt.

"Who said romance is dead?" he muttered under his breath.

Just as Soren braced for what would surely be a horrendous sound, his shovel brushed up against something solid- another trowel, and with it an ulna and radius, the rest of the hand not immediately within sight.

A seemingly sudden death, still holding a small tool, caught unawares, either a long time ago or picked clean...

"Chiron, get out of the dirt," ordered Soren, scooting backwards out of the garden himself.

Food Roll: 8+1=9

@aimlessarchery

[atypicalsenerio]

A Bad Solution to a Worse Problem [Delthea & Soren]

[sorcerese]

anything is better than raw flour. literally anything. delthea would do anything that isn't subjected to consuming flour of all things, it honestly traumatized her for years. when it came down to practical life skills, she didn't mind hunting, fishing, or foraging, as a matter of fact it was something rather common for her and luthier back in her village.

normally people would assume that just because they came from a bloodline has value in the arcane that it'd be backed by some kind of coin or heirloom or whatever but no, it was complete bullplop. her ancestors just hid their cool awesome powers like total idiots leaving them nothing short of poverty and a bunch of stupid tomes that had no real use anymore. but oh well, whatever that's a whole other history book she rather not think about right now.

she follows behind him not too far or close, she looks at the mouth of the cave. another damn cave. man, this is getting so old, very quickly. with his warning heard she nods and begins to watch their steps.

" gotcha. " she grins, giving out a half-hearted salute. she turns to the other one and lets him step between them, silently nodding back. " i'll watch your back this time around, misters. "

roll , 1d10 ! -> result : 8 success ... +1 insect !

" oh, hey look! hey, hey, phorycs, soren ! do you think this one is edible? " delthea grins, showing an insect she pulled off the wall. honestly it looked kinda strange and morally felt wrong to think about eating it but as long as it wasn't flour, it'd be fine.

[atypicalsenerio]

Thus far, all was quiet, but it didn't make Soren any less alert. He examined the bug that reminded him of a beetle in Delthea's hand, resigned to the reality of potentially having to eat it if their crops and fishing lines failed.

"It isn't brightly colored, so it's hopefully not poisonous. I suppose we'll find out." Were there bigger versions of it? Soren could see how a giant one could be a problem in combat.

Phorycs was still slightly ahead of them, getting close to where the daylight would run out from the mouth of the cave and they'd have only the glowing puddles of water to light their way. He pointed a ways in, to one of the walls.

Soren followed where he was pointing to a small swarm of said insects on the wall, seemingly easy to catch, likely with nutrients enough to keep them alive within their shells.

He listened hard for anything other than the skittering from the creatures right before them and couldn't hear anything.

"Alright. I guess this is our stop."

For now, a voice inside him warned.

Food Roll: 3+1=4, +1 insect

[renaisguy]

Drop the (sea) bass

[bxldrsdraumar]

It almost became a comfortable rhythm again, after a time. Moving about within the group, deepening his bonds with these people as family or friend - there were many among this number that he could place his trust in, despite their outward appearances, chief among them the young knight of Renais and the young magician. They orbited one another without input, and as time went on Sigurd found he had grown as fond of them as he had with the lads underneath him in his own army, in Chalphy.

He was helpless at fishing, if he were honest, but it was an opportunity to be useful, and to keep an eye on one of the more mischievous of their number - marked notably by his now-blue hands. Young Forde seemed happy to build a rapport with the boy, in spite of the child's reservations about the activity.

"I cannot say that we fished much in my home, when I was your age," Sigurd said to Chiron, futzing with his line in a valiant effort to keep it from tangling, eventually securing a weighted lure to the end. "I was never built for it - too much sitting still."

He winked at the boy, eyeing the blue hands and grinning.

Chiron grinned back.

"But it is a skill worth learning, even if poorly. It may save your life one day, if there's nothing else to eat."

Chiron's grin dropped, and his face screwed into a frown. "The adults say there's always something to eat though. Like moss or grass or - "

"Fungus?" Sigurd supplied with a gentle poke to the boy's side, pressing again until he found a ticklish spot and Chiron swatted at his hands. "It is true that there may be an abundance of plantlife around you, wherever you are. But it also true that it may not - there are many places in the world, and not all of them will cater to your diet. It's good to learn to adapt. Unless you always want to stay at home?" The frown on the boy's face indicated that he did not.

Fishing roll: 8, +1 fish @atypicalsenerio

[atypicalsenerio]

Soren had some... peculiar memories when it came to fishing. It was not his fault that that Peony girl had looked like a giant bug, and that they were by the fishing pond, but nevermind all that.

He didn't exactly understand why the vegetarian child had wanted to follow them, but there wasn't much he could do about it.

"Someday, your morals will come up against your chances of living, if they haven't already," he said. This was obviously, to Soren, a reasonable way to address a child. "We won't force you to eat fish, but it's an option for you. Assuming we catch any," he muttered.

Fishing took too long and was even worse when with other people, but fish tasted better than spiders.

"I try to not sit around and spend hours luring fish. Our options are just as few as Chiron's, though." Soren cast his line, face blank and bored.

He still hadn't quite forgotten how easily Sigurd had toted him around and scooted slightly away from Sigurd and closer to Forde.

"Besides one of your best memories involving trout, what do you bring to our group?" asked Soren, not so much as interested in chatting but the information it might bring.

Fishing Roll: 3+1= 4, +1 Fish

[ofradiances]

Connection so familiar

[ofradiances]

He had to admit the idea of sparring with Soren again had him a little excited. Especially if it was with blades. It had been a while since he had a sparring partner worth having and with Soren's tenacity he assumed he'd get a good fight out of him.

Even if Ike was more likely to win. But it was never about winning. Was it? Not to him. It was about testing limits. Getting better. Proving himself. Seeing what the other person can do.

"We can make time to practice together. Just like old times, hm?"

Ike was at ease too. An easy smile formed on his face. This was how it was supposed to be. Spending time apart from his best friend just wasn't right.

He smiled. "Okay. If I want anything, I'll come to you first. How does that sound?" It went without saying surely that this would always be the case.

And it was reassuring to know that they'd be kept busy. But if Soren was being put to work even as a student, that raised an eyebrow from Ike. Still it wasn't up to him how this place was run.

"It goes both ways, you know. Anything you want or need...I'm here for you. Always."

[atypicalsenerio]

"I always have time for you." What may have sounded like a profound declaration was a statement of fact from Soren, and something Ike already knew too. It felt good to say, to not let his words be so distant from his feelings.

Soren smiled in return, a little closer to Ike. "Good. No matter what."

Ike seemed a little perplexed at the implication of everything that happened at Garreg Mach, but Soren wasn't about to lay all of the close calls and world ending crises on him upon arrival. Give it a week, maybe. He just shrugged, smile still on his face, unable to cast off the elation that Ike simply being there brought. His life could be objectively worse in every way, but if Ike was there, it didn't matter.

At Ike's own always to him, Soren may have once struggled to believe it, but he only shot Ike a more playful look than anyone else could get out of him.

"I know."

[corvuschriisti]

the dad scam

[corvuschriisti]

"We should take a visit to see her. Perhaps I can win her back, and we can be a happy family once more," he sighs, and its all for melodrama. He has no idea who Soren's mother is. He does not care. He's just doing this to pass the time, and most likely will forget about it in a week.

"As for not having a soul, that certainly is not a result of your being... well, half beorc and half laguz. If you lack a soul it's because your paternal parent never gave you one. Fathers are the less impressive parent for a myriad of reasons, including as you said -- never giving their children anything useful."

He looks over at Soren and gives him a little smile. It's mischievous, and definitely shows that he's up to no good.

"Well, son. Since I've abandoned you for years it seems only right that I should bridge the gap between us. What do you say?"

[atypicalsenerio]

Okay, it seemed Naesala was simply full of shit and didn't know exactly who he was talking about. Soren's shoulders sagged slightly with relief. "Yes, imagine," he said, almost wistful, but mostly trying to hold back a sudden laugh at the absurdity of the idea. It even showed as he bit his own lip to tamp down the smile.

Naesala and Almedha sitting at an outdoor little cafe on a date... hysterical. One wrong word and she could fling him into orbit.

"So I see." Soren put a hand on his hip as he spoke. "You've not passed on anything much useful at all. People give us both such dirty looks... can't imagine why."

That smirk didn't inspire confidence. It brought the same sort of alarmed dread it would have over a battle schematic. Soren pretended to think. "Well, if money is out of the question, knowing both of our own need for it... what do you suggest, father?"

[atypicalsenerio]

Dig Up Dirt [Team Pi OPEN]

[atypicalsenerio]

Food Gathering Team Pi Open Starter

Compared to how close they'd come to starving the last week, this new town to squat in was paradise. However, mostly tamed land and a handful of livestock didn't mean much if they didn't make the most of their resources.

Soren knelt down in one of the garden plots, cutting through overgrown vines, a small trowel in one hand. With luck, some of the abandoned food was still able to be harvested, or at least was still needing to get ripe. He braced himself for the idea of finding vegetables already rotting, but he wouldn't know until he checked.

Sitting in the dirt wasn't his favorite activity, and neither was babysitting.

Chiron was eagerly digging across from him, seemingly able to have fun at a time like this. His giddiness in simply existing in the dirt without having a real focus on trimming back the weeds or finding food was grinding on Soren's nerves, but he supposed it was still technically assistance. Chrion held up his hand. "Look, a worm!"

Soren sighed. "Put it aside for more fishing."

He turned, hoping to catch sight of anyone unoccupied and able to mitigate some of the interactions he was having to have with this kid.

[atypicalsenerio]

Devastating: The Worst People You Know Have Faith Ranks [Griss & Soren]

[twistedisciple]

Soren was lucky that he'd caught Griss when he wasn't feeling contrary. Or maybe Soren didn't really care and had someone else in mind if things didn't work out, but regardless, he'd managed to employ Griss for work in the makeshift infirmary Electra and Euphorie had established in the house of the (former) village doctor. And he'd actually showed up, too.

The front door was unlocked, so he let himself inside, but the room seemed to quiet when he did. Euphorie was here, of course, shooting daggers from the corner where she'd been whispering something to Soren, and Brizo was too tired or weak or maybe scared to do anything but lie in bed with his eyes closed. Softly, the latch of the door clicked shut.

"Well?" Griss' rough voice cut through the tense silence like a knife, or maybe it was more apt to say that he bludgeoned it out of the room. He put his hands on his hips and frowned - first at Soren, then Euphorie.

"What d'you want me here for anyway? Maybe you wanna hit me again." His lips broke apart into a sneer. "Is that it?"

"I'll ki--" Euphorie snapped her teeth down on the word, and exhaled the rest through her nose. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides as she stared back at Griss with red-ringed eyes. Then she glanced down at Soren.

"No," she amended, but that was all she could manage. She waved wordlessly at the table and the collection of things Soren had gathered from the drawers, shook her head, then retreated to Brizo's bedside. Griss watched her for a moment before slinking from the doorway into the room, circling around the table to reach Soren from the other side.

"'K, so what now?" He picked up the stone mortar and turned it curiously in his hand. Weighing it, just in case. "You never told me what you were gonna give me if I showed up. I'm only here to see if you got a deal worth my time."

Medicine roll: 2 Collected: 1, 2

[atypicalsenerio]

Soren watched the little scene play out before him, tense. Though he'd been ready to launch into action, it was handled as best as he could've realistically hoped.

"Give you?" mused Soren. There was a result he had in mind, but... "Depends on how well we work. Making sense of this benefits us all, but I foresee a personal boon too."

Now he sounded like Micaiah. Stop that.

Griss sometimes didn't seem to be in a rush to get healed when he was injured, though Soren could've been reading it wrong. Why he couldn't figure out. Griss certainly didn't seem the sweet selfless type. Whatever the reason was, the chances of everyone, Griss included, needing a vulnerary in the future was all too likely.

He walked by the cupboards and drawers, pulling or nudging them all open, high and low. "There's quite a bit to get through here-"

"Hello? You have a job to do before that first!" demanded Euphorie.

Soren pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed for a second. "Yes, there is a goal in our searching and crafting, starting with a concoction that can lower a fever. I admit to being unfamiliar with some of these herbs and powders- a second set of knowledgeable eyes is helpful."

Brizo stirred in his bed, likely uncomfortable from the fever, but at least alive.

He pulled out a haphazardly crammed basket of supplies, vials, bandages, and papers sticking out at every angle, and set it before Griss. "Well?"

Medicine Roll: 3 Collected: 1,2,3 Bonus Roll: 1, doubled!

[frauleindermorgen]

to the walls i built around you

Roll 1d10 for every post after your starter. Starting with your third post (including your starter), with every post, add +1 to your d10 +1 counter resets after +5 1-8: carry on 9-10+: ping key

[frauleindermorgen]

@atypicalsenerio

A deserted village is surely not a new sight to either of them, but this one in particular leaves Micaiah feeling unsettled; certainly, she is glad they have better shelter and fortifications now simply from a logistical sense but the houses open and waiting for them with no occupants and the wind that howls through the canyon village make her think of the stories told on Daein’s longest night.

At least, she thinks, spreading a simple white tarp she’d found on the table in the front room, the dust mites seem to be in natural order.

“There’s plenty of room for three of us living here. Almost too much,” Micaiah says, crossing over to open one of the windows. The air moves more here than it did in the tunnels underneath Ruthalia but compared to what she's used to the town's atmosphere feels stale.

“What next…” Micaiah says, looking to Soren, “any ideas? If not I suppose we could chat. I’ve always wanted to know, what are your thoughts on ghosts?”

[atypicalsenerio]

Roll: 3

Soren didn't have much of an opinion on their shelter. It was just that: shelter. He didn't need finery or comforts, though the old Greil Keep and his room at the monastery would have let him relax in a way he didn't want to admit he needed. He paced around, inspecting the main room for any structural issues.

"That's an odd question to carry around." However, with them, there were always more personal (worse) things to ask. "I suppose we know spirits exist. Dead can be animated again, though not the same as they once were, implying something is missing. It seems logical enough to assume ghosts could exist, though proving it is difficult."

He shook out the bedroll he'd been using with a frown.

"I've seen enough to not assume anything anymore."

Surely she had an opinion too.

"Yourself? Do gods get ghosts, but we mere mortals never linger?"