wall of ice.

closed rp account for Matthias Raoul Gautier, from Fire Emblem: Three Houses | penned by kuno | Blue Lions instructor from The Officer's Academy.

[egittae]

back in the fucking basement again baybeee | lambert & matthias

continued from here

[egittae]

Lambert was left unimpressed by the response, the right corner of his lips tugging into a half smirk, half thin line. Had it been a year before Matthias’ statement would’ve caused his heart to stir uncomfortably at the idea of yet not being himself enough to be fully acknowledged by the man. Something that even now he still wasn’t fully realized, still looking for and picking up broken pieces left and right.

But now? All he could imagine was,

That sure is a Matthias response.

And that filled him with amusement and a tinge of comfort rather than hurt or anxiety. “Is my current appearance not enough of a sign? And here I thought I had managed to finally distance myself from that horrid lesser presence.” Just thinking back to it sent a shiver down his spine out of pure discomfort. It wasn’t quite disgust for the man that he had been- if Lambert were to look at himself divorced from his own body, he’d understand the attitude. Pathetic and a tad unbecoming to witness sure, but considering everything, he could understand.

The issue was, he couldn’t divorce himself from it. That was him. And for him that was unacceptable. “I have been faring quite well if I do say so myself.” Weight shifted slightly from one hip to the other, Gradivus standing tall and proud by his side. “At last my services as a knight have been acknowledged properly, so now I do not look like an out of place, last minute hire whenever I happen to tag along the Academy’s expeditions.” A soft sigh. “Though I suppose my current role would give you some…dissonance. The Academy seems quite keen on deploying me as a commander for the skies, rather than the land. I am not one to complain however, one more mastery under my belt will surely not hurt.”

“And what about you, my friend? All these moons…how have you fared, truly? How is the North holding up?”

@cielenruine

[cielenruine]

Matthias tilts his head down then back up, surveying Lambert one more time. "You pass for less of a common man and more like a soldier... but you're still too bright behind the eyes." His king always would be.

The self awareness present is appreciated, nearly pulling a proper smile from the margrave.

It swiftly falls again. "A commander of the sky? Are you certain you're okay with that. The last time I recall you that high up it was because a beast decided to make a plaything of you and Oleg and you, my friend, took far too long to wake." All that had mattered then was that his heart still beat but still, the sight of Blaiddyd blonde in the skies is hardly comforting.

How have he and the north fared? That's a question with such a simple answer it hurts.

"As it and I always do, fine. Sreng is held at bay. If there is a complaint I must make, there is still far too much church involvement in bandit subjugation."

[cielenruine]

miniplotting call!

the myth of pacifism(axe+1): asking a gautier to relax before a mission is like asking a fish to breathe out of water. matthias isn't the sort of person that hates peace, but the idea that it could be protected and maintained without force and sacrifice is impossible to fathom. i'm happy having him with a foil who does know how to relax or an equally antsy person where they feed into each other's thoughts that there is an elephant in need of addressing.

as always shoot me an im if interested.

[radiantpaths]

the tax man cometh

[radiantpaths]

Ike has been here for about a year now. It's been a good year (if one ignores the crap he's dealt with), and he's happy to have found a place to settle down in. It's not forever, he knows this, but it's nice all the same.

Well, it was nice, until the tax man arrived at his house.

They sit across from each other at the table. Ike stares at him. He stares at Ike. He folds his hands on the table, awkwardly flicking his nails. "So, uh..." Ike untangles his hands to rub the back of his neck. "I'd offer tea, but I don't drink it. Sorry."

@cielenruine

[cielenruine]

It is a favor. With all the effort the church spares he and his people, playing collector for the town of Garreg Mach is hardly a bad deal. That few people forget their dues makes the job all the easier, but he supposes those who don't recall are all the harder for it.

So he sits now across from a young man. Well mannered enough to lament the lack of tea but not so wise he knows to offer water instead. Indeed, the kind of man who would forget something as important as his taxes. "That is fine. This should take no time at all."

In his hands and in the middle of the table there are papers. The ones on the table are blank, those in his hands are filled with the list of those who'd yet to give the church their property dues.

"I see you bought this house almost a year ago now. Has it been treating you well since then?"

[sanakialtina]

invisible string

sanaki + matthias (herald)

[sanakialtina]

"Apologies, Margrave Gautier," says Sanaki mildly, "you must find this terribly dull."

Twirling a pen in clever fingers, she moves to redact the entire following clause, but without her other hand pinning down the folio, the sudden motion sends the page skittering across her desk.

She blinks. Bites the inside of her cheek. Carefully, calmly sets everything in its place again, ink dripping onto the paper all the while.

It's — it's fine. Fine. This is hardly an important document, merely directions for the upcoming census. She is not so dense as to willingly allow a foreign noble free reign over sensitive intelligence, no matter his authority in these lands. But come to think of it, why had he even agreed to play the tedious part of chaperone? Doesn't he have better things to do than hold hands like a schoolgirl... with a schoolgirl?

Perhaps the same could be asked of her. Whatever havoc she had wreaked at the Ball, she is in possession of more than enough leverage to pull herself free of consequences. That she hadn't, figuratively; couldn't, literally, now —

— well, call it curiosity. Or, as she is only beginning to realize, a test of her own resolve.

The pen clatters to the table, too sudden and too loud. Holding back a flinch, she adds, "Surely there's something else you would rather do. I'm no delinquent, you know — quite the hospitable lady, in fact."

Her eyes flicker to the open door, then back to meet the Margrave's gaze. "I am amenable to suggestions."

@cielenruine !

[cielenruine]

"There is no need." His voice lacks any irony. If any in existed for the statement to be challenged, it had frozen over the moment a sigh escaped his nose. Dull she says. As if dull is not the ideal. To do paperwork in this way, mindless directions that, while important, could have been delegated by another, is a privilege. Normally he would not care much for the contents of the page of one not his student nor his knights, but he is curious. What has she decided he is allowed to know?

Ever so slightly, he scowls. Just before he makes to speak, the pen falls and he has to wonder if working in the vicinity of another is truly this hard for her. No, she isn't incompetent or clumsy. She's trying to be sly.

"You are now?" Incredulity slips into his tone. Has he forgotten who is in what role here? That she is amenable. "There are a number of other matters I could attend - but most are as yours. Confidential."

Matthias bites regardless. "While on the topic, you should refresh yourself on what you consider divulging to others. A census. All lands must do them from time to time, but you are aware of the reason for such practice, no?" The margrave stands as he awaits the answer. Mindful of their tied hands and the fact that he could lift her just as easily as a javelin.

[nyxanthemums]

99 NIGHTS IN THE INFINITE IKEA?!?! 🤯 (GONE WRONG 😱) (OLD MAN YAOI WARNING ⚠️)

Non-Mission Task Board || Matthias

[nyxanthemums]

"A good man. Please disregard then." A slight frown grows on her lips as her brow furrows in thought.

"Ah, but a word of caution. They only accept patronage from those with a special card and in order to obtain said card, one must be in a relationship." Her tone flat, undercut by a tinge of annoyance, not directed towards the stranger, but towards the shop as a whole.

"Should I ask another? I cannot let this opportunity pass." Words for herself, but not spoken so quietly that the stranger couldn't hear.

Even a chance at finding a hint of a way to fix her would be more than enough. The absence of progress isn't proof of a lack of effort, but rather a testament to how momentous this goal she seeks truly is.

"I thank you for your time, but I apologize. You may need to return with your spouse if you wish to enter. I bid you luck in your endeavor." Her words linger in the air as she begins to turn away.

[cielenruine]

"Are you certain they are so stringent?" The margrave voice cuts through. Returning with his spouse was, in all worlds, impossible. Pulling the Margravine to the monastery likely would be of no issue - a territory well run can function without its head for a few days. Doing so for something of this nature would result in a gaze he doesn't favor being under. Could he ask Sylvain? Perhaps, but he could likewise ask a horse to fly.

"There is no need to give up that easily." The answer is quite obvious. "You are my daughter."

"I've not the time to waste and I'm doubtful the clerk would allow you in if you simply brought along the first person who said yes to your proposal." If the relation card is as coveted, they likely wouldn't accept such half-assed couples anyways.

"Would it be difficult for you to play the part of an orphan?"

[cielenruine]

“Quite rude of you to disappear without a goodbye letter. You slight me, Margrave.”

The blade of Gradivus was pointed at Matthias’ throat, his eyes’ gleam as cold as the silver of his lance. For a moment Lambert didn’t move or speak any further, eyes locked onto the Margrave's own as if seizing him and checking for a reaction, even if miniscule. But in the end, this was the Wall of Ice.

Lambert gently bonked the other man with his lance, smiling. “Good to see you again! I certainly hope nothing is amiss in the Ruskas, and that the Margravine is too doing well.” Unlike their last moment together, his tone was…definitely louder. Stronger, more confident, belonging to a man able to puff his chest and walk with his chin raised even if there were still holes here and there within the depths of his mind. His outfit may not be nearly as regal as what he used to wear, but no longer looked like a mishmash of used and worn clothes taken from charity- his armor gleamed, the clothing was well fitted, and the large pauldrons almost gave him a familiar silhouette.

The scar that once marred his face was no more- hidden by makeup, just as his hair had been properly brushed with gel and kept in place.

“Idiot.” A mischievous, goofy smile for good measure.

"Perhaps were it my king, such an effort would have been warranted." That Lambert now wields Gradivus is a sign at least that such a man still exists, but still this is just a man. The hardened amber that watched over north eastern Faerghus faltered not one bit. If his head was wanted, it would already be had.

Then a tap, one that sees him close his eyes and huff out. "She is fine, there were simply matters to handle which required my personal presence."

Before him stands a man. A Blaiddyd in all but name at the moment. There are myriad scars that decorate his skin, but the ones most pressing are no longer on display. Now he is less of a basement specter and more of a knight. That story now is at least much easier to sell. "I take it you've been well in my absence?"

[ulircursed]

with one life alone

⤷ herald: bow +1

[ulircursed]

A festival of this scale requires food to match, and the town of Baile has ordered an unbelievable amount of preserved meat to stock its food stores. Winter isn’t exactly the season for big hunts though, so finding game will be harder than normal. On top of that, the more you kill for Baile’s, the less you’ll have when spring arrives. The monastery has made it clear that offending this client could have dire consequences, so what do you do? Maybe if you fudge the numbers, you won’t get caught… [Grants Bow +1]

The tip of his arrow lowering silently, Andrei watches the doe cross the clearing, a clean path of hoofprints through the damp, frigid earth.

A doe that survives winter could mean two young fawns in spring. The amount of game available in any given year could make the difference between abundance and famine, contentment and revolt. It is the kind of lesson that imprints itself, like second nature, within his mind, even when Garreg Mach is not his territory and neither its future nor its inhabitants his responsibility.

(Even so far removed from his own land, obligation leaves its mark, still.)

It would be more ideal, then, to seek out prey that is larger, older, its value for the future decreased in proportion to the meat it can supply now.

A rustle in the undergrowth draws his attention, and narrowed eyes train onto his new target, drawing back his weapon—

"!!"

—only for the bow to swing downwards with his sharp inhale, eyes wide in shock at the figure that emerges from the trees.

(He wouldn't have made the mistake. He wouldn't have. And yet. His hands shake, the shadow of a turned back, the tip of his raised arrow, floating into mind.)

Andrei's own steps crunch the fallen leaves underfoot as he emerges from his hiding spot, careful, nonthreatening posture in stark contrast with the haunted look that he is unable to wipe from his expression quite in time.

"…Margrave Gautier?"

@cielenruine

[cielenruine]

Scarcity and it's consequences reach much farther than a bruised ego. In spite of the far more pertinent issues - food storages being thinner and food that could be preserved to coast people along throughout the harsher months spoiling before even the worst of blizzards runs through - the appeasement of the noble ego is the priority.

There are ways to manage this. Stretching thin a smaller number of caught bucks or improvising spice wise to make up for missing meat.

His thoughts make him incautious. To begin with, there are prey they shouldn't be killed and work far better as guides to more fruitful targets. Should whatever hunter he happens upon be upset then-

Instinctively he flinches and dips to a lower stance, eyes are on him and though they aren't hostile, they certainly stay and stare in a way he would be utterly ignorant to ignore.

He hears his name and finds a familiar face calling it. "Andrei." Contact has been amicable. Short and sweet - letters can only do so much to tell the stories of what happens in the world.

"A welcome surprise to be paired on the same mission." His expression gives little away, only the slightly tilt upwards on his lips. "You've been well, have you not?"

[nyxanthemums]

99 NIGHTS IN THE INFINITE IKEA?!?! 🤯 (GONE WRONG 😱) (OLD MAN YAOI WARNING ⚠️)

Non-Mission Task Board || Matthias

[nyxanthemums]

Rumors often are equipped with petty matters and embellished details, even further defiled by hungry ears and loose mouths. Oftentimes when one of these rumors fall upon Nyx's ears, they are met with a slight scoff and a turned cheek at its ridiculousness.

However, at the mention of a peculiar large shop with an even larger selection of tomes and items, Nyx just has to verify. Even if what a minuscule fraction of what they speak holds truth, then it must be pursued.

After all, a remedy to her curse might be present. A siphoning ailment that pollutes her every waking moment. The heavy years cannot weigh her devotion to a search. Every little lead must be followed, despite how taxing or true it is. 

How cruel a thing hope is.

Though, something that the rumors conveniently forgot to detail was the need for a ridiculous card. To guard at the store front, Nyx crosses her arms and furrows her brow, "You mean to tell me that in order to be a patron, I must possess a card or be spoken for? How obsessed. To reject one's coin simply because it doesn't have that 'romantic gleam'."

She turns her back to the store front, her pride ready to move her feet, but her desperation forces them to stay. A torrent of frustration builds, soon to be met with an exhale, venting all her pent up thoughts.

She must get in. A store truly that big must have hints on how to reveal her true self, or perhaps how to revert her form. This possibility absolutely cannot be passed up.

So now she turns to the crowd, and to the first free person she spots, one donning fiery red hair, she approaches, "Pardon me. May I please have a moment of your time?"

Now that he is in front of her she truly realizes what a character she has picked out. Looming over her, his stare is met with her unwavering gaze.

I really did choose quite the character.

"Young man, I require your aid. Could you please pretend to be my lover?"

 @cielenruine

[cielenruine]

No.

Moments earlier... Matthias had found himself waiting. A store this large begets a line just as long and he has no qualms about such a thing. Rushing to the front will do little for him and it's not as though it's stood still. Though the pace is a crawl, to move is to move.

These are his thoughts before the most baffling of questions is asked by, frankly, most baffling a person.

She comes from the front, yet her arms are devoid of wares or any such trinket from the shop. Dismissed at the entrance then. For what reason he cannot fathom aside from looking to her question.

He looks about them at the others in the line. Were they all just waiting to be turned away if they weren't holding hands or here with their lover? What of those with 'lovers' far away? He doubts they would turn a profit, even with the monastery's population, if their criteria for entry were so restrictive.

And did she just call him a young man?

Matthias finally sighs, the beginning of his response. His glove is pulled off as the second part of it and he holds his hand out such that his ring finger is visible. Around it are two ring like marks, one mostly covered by an actual silver ring. "I'm not keen on a third marriage," -to say nothing of the fact that before him is most certainly a student.

"-But you aren't asking. What did they tell you when they sent you away?"

[cielenruine]

The Margave returns!

After a break bordering on a year, he's decided to resume his tenure as a professor for the Blue Lions, specializing in teaching military strategy and diplomacy.

If you previously had a bond with him that you would like to keep, please IM me here on his blog or dm me(kuno1012) so we can discuss the contact he kept. As an example, if you choose this option then the default is him having sent letters to keep up with your muse.

Otherwise, feel free to meet him for the first time(again)!

A little bit of a guideline update that'll go up on his updated page under the cut.

This will likely go onto his guide page as it is something I want to be 100% transparent about.

While I do appreciate a good joke and light ribbing every now and then, please do not make a habit of ignoring the sincerity of what's written for the sake of a joke. It is incredibly disheartening to write something with utmost sincerity and have it be taken as a joke.

In this same vein, poking fun at him(any of my muses honestly) is fine when done lightly, however I have realized that I do not necessarily like only talking about the flaws of my muses through jokes or irony. There is a balance to be had between sincerely discussing things and making memes of them.

tl;dr

Please do not talk about my muses in a way you would not want your or your friends muses to be spoken of.

[cielenruine]

the memories this will hold || rhys & matthias

[gentleaureole]

"Crimea," he answers. "A country in western Tellius. It's far from here. I don't expect you'd know it, my partner and I had to travel for a long time before we arrived here." Ahh...his partner. Rhys's smiles widens at that thought.

"Oh you seem very familiar with the craftsmanship. Are you a carpenter by chance?" The way he looks over the bookshelf and speaks of it makes it seem he has more knowledge than the average person about such things. Or perhaps Rhys just doesn't know much about woodworking.

[cielenruine]

"Regrettably, I do not." The man turned and offered a smile. "I hope this land has been treating you well." That people were still able to find something within it worth coming for, there was some joy to be had in that he thinks.

A small chuckle and the bookshelf returns to his view. Carefully, he disassembles and pulls out one of the shelves. Weighty as it was- goddess this had to be some work deemed not good enough for an enthusiast.

"You could say something of that sort. It's not a trade I'm versed in." Thinking back to the reconstruction of the monastery itself, most people who helped that effort could at least call themselves novices with how things had come along and help up.

Goddess forbid he reveal his title lest their merchant attempt to sell promises the poor case couldn't keep."

He holds the shelf itself out and turns it over. "There's pitting on the bottom. For all the rigidity it has, one could need to be mindful of that being a weak point."

Gloved fingers guided over each weak spot and in a quieter voice he spoke. "With a bit of care, it could certainly be reliable."

He felt like he was beginning to sell the young man on this thing more than the merchant was. "... works like these eventually end up as kindling somewhere. Imperfections so minor as not to be seen are a grave offense to some nobility and most commoners tend not to have the collections nor the funds."

"If you have the collection to line it, it'll last you lifetimes over."

[cielenruine]

sinners and saints || lucius & matthias

[cielenruine]

 It's been far too long, he thinks. The crisp air brings with it a nostalgic smell. He's been busy. It was too easy to fall back onto such excuses for not offering up prayers as he should. The cathedral is sparse. It tends to be quiet to begin with, only the shuffling of vestments and carefully placed footfalls so as to be respectful of those who were praying.

 Once the sun had set, it nearly felt like another world ,save for the one or two other people to be found between the pews.

 The margrave closes his eyes and let the silence take him. So many are the things he can pray for but he can't help but feel as if this night may prove to be little more than a first draft of what he should say, what woes it makes sense to present. Hundreds of faces line the peripherals of his vision. None truly were there– or so he thought. A man stood out amongst the crowd of nameless faces. His too had no name attached but he was more tangible if only barely. Matthias wouldn't put it above himself to converse with a ghost of his own making.

 Prayer wasn't this man's purpose so much as it seemed to be relaxing.

 “The winter air makes this place feel a bit warmer somehow, does it not?” He offers in a tone just above a whisper. He was hardly getting rest anytime soon. A conversation would hardly hurt to help that along... and most importantly, his thoughts alone would hardly allow this place to be the sanctuary he'd like it to be.

@alluxerim

[cielenruine]

the memories this will hold || rhys & matthias

[gentleaureole]

There's no use. What little money he and Ike have earned through odd jobs is barely enough to afford this, and there's several things Rhys still needs to buy. As nice as it would be to have a bookshelf, he will have to forgo this purchase until they've saved up a little more. It's too bad, too. The woodwork is nice, nicer than anything he ever saw back in Crimea, and he can easily see where he would place it and the items he would fill it with.

"Huh?" Rhys turns and the man's question registers. "Oh, books mostly. I have a few I've brought all the way from home and I would like to give them a proper place. They're not hefty, but they are precious to me." He smiles but knowing that he can't buy the bookshelf makes the sentiment not quite reach his eyes. "But I'll have to leave this here. I'm sure there's another around that I can afford." There's many other things he'd like to use it for. Candles, perhaps a small altar arranged atop it, or any trinkets and baubles he and Ike might come across. Still, it won't be this bookshelf.

Rhys continues, "If you're interested, it's selling for a good price." Even if he can't afford it, he knows it's a good deal.

[cielenruine]

Matthias hums. "From home?" Looking over the man now he noted his own unfamiliarity with his style of clothing.

"It'd be more than a shame to do so." His eye draws over to the man running the stall. "Pieces like this are rare yes... but they aren't so perfect as to always fall at the given price point."

Stepping closer to it, he ran his hand over the inner walls between the shelves. Inquisitive fingers were quick to take note of something and he turned to the ginger haired man. "A few of the inserts need to be reworked. It's likely the ones the shelves rest upon now also need such work.

One fact precedes his words, he knows this bookshelf likely won't fall into the young man's price range however, the closer it got to such split hairs and silver coins, the easier it was to justify the difference needed.

[cielenruine]

the memories this will hold || rhys & matthias

[cielenruine]

 It had long been time to invest in the little faculty dorm he’d been offered. Nothing could compare to the estate, years of curated work and contracted carpenters making it all to specifications couldn't compare to the generalized nature of the furniture most had to work with. He isn't sure if he remembers his own academy room fondly or with the disdain one naturally incurred when size failed to meed expectations.

 Matthias’s eye is keen, some trinkets he’s tempted to keep but would he really need it? More than that, he’s not sure he could stomach the pain of almost losing such things if they did gain a sentiment.

 “Final price- I can't go lower than that for a shelf like this,” the margrave overhears.

Amber eyes find themselves on the spoken of shelf and he hums, feet carrying him over to look upon it closer. 

 At a glance, it was sturdy. Longevity likely played a factor in even the docked price but… he could tell already, there was a story as to why something like this found its way here.

 The wood itself was a beautiful color, minimal pitting, the finish upon it had protected it well. With shelves that guaranteed one likely would need a lifetime to fill it to capacity… he could see himself caving to it even at the higher price point. Such couldn't always be the case for others.

 “How hefty is the material you plan to line the shelves with?” he asks to the man eyeing it in the first place.

@gentleaureole

[deliverred]

Does the Wall of Ice Shiver?

Anniversary 2024 +1 Heavy Armor

[cielenruine]

(tw: animal death, mention of child death)

Victorious was the hunter who tracked back to nest, rutheless in pursuit and merciless in capture. Survival was always at a cost. He had done his best however to be wise in his choice of prey. They had food, he need not be wasteful and slaughter a family for what was nothing more than a comfort meal, meant to gently soothe and take some bite of the cold away. Lukas truthfully could manage with what they had...and yet Matthias found his mind wouldn't allow him to return empty handed. A lone rabbit. Plump. One set of tracks, none alongside the way to it's den.

He stalked and he recalled. It was rare his boys got sick. Between simple being so used to their environment or something within their blood as Gautiers. It was why when it did happen he felt beside himself. His steps were silent as he approached and waited close by the entrance of the den. Sylvain...there were times he still had nightmares of that day. No matter how many blankets, how close they were to the fireplace, how tightly he held his son, vacant eyes and blue lips were all he was met with.

Prey revealed itself and he was quick to pounce. in one hand, he'd caught the rabbit and held it down by its neck. A prayer was offered before another precious life found its way within the goddess's arms. It had been too tense but there was little for that. He couldn't afford to be so picky and what little flavor it garnered even in such a state was enough. A moment passed, there was thought to get one more but this was enough. The trek back, while far heavier set, was easy enough and the sight that greeted him left a pout on his face. "Where do you think it is you're going young man?" As he walked back in to set his catch down he sighed. "I assure you've no need to worry for me Lukas, I told you, if anything this is far more like home to me." The blankets were secured around him again and there was a small look of concern as he felt Lukas's forehead. "You've still got a ways to go, lay back down, I wanted to make something that might help."

[deliverred]

It's as Lukas is gathering himself up to go out into the storm after the older man that he hears the approach of footsteps in the snow. Matthias seems utterly unbothered by the fact that he was stepping in from spending gods' know how long out in this storm, and though he recalls that the other had said this was like home to him, Lukas still feels himself baffled somewhat by this fact.

His eyes narrow slightly as he watches the man reenter as if he had not taken any risks at all, a rabbit dead in hand as his apparent reward. He'd...done that to go hunting...?

"I...saw that you were not here when I awoke," Lukas started to answer slowly, brow furrowing faintly as Matthias went out of his way to readjust the blanket around his shoulders. If he were not feeling a bit better, he might blame his confusion on the fever -- which was surely not helping, but wasn't entirely responsible. "Seeing as we had established the need to stay inside earlier, I don't think it's too out of the ordinary to be...concerned that you walked right back out there as soon as I fell asleep."

Lukas goes still again at the touch of a hand to his forehead, blinking owlishly for a moment after it was withdrawn before shaking his head in the negative. "No, I'm...quite alright for the moment. You went to the effort to get us extra food, the least I can do is help you with what you wish to make. If you're concerned, I'll sit by the fire as we work, if that will suffice?"

He gives Matthias just long enough to acknowledge that compromise, not waiting for permission to do so, as he went back to their packs to what food they had brought with them. He was hardly a cook -- and though he had learned some things by necessity in the Deliverance, making things taste good consistently wasn't something he'd mastered nor tried to get better at -- but he knew how to dress a rabbit, and perhaps they had some extras they could use to add to whatever meal Matthias had in mind.

"I did not think our situation so dire as for you to sneak off like that, however. Did you think I would protest, or demand to follow after you?" Lukas asked, sitting back down by the smaller fire with, pack set in his lap as he digs through it.

He wasn't incapable of understanding why Matthias wouldn't want him out there in his current condition, but to slip out while he slept like he was a child was amusing...if not a little irritating to his pride.

[cielenruine]

"My apologies." In spite of his words, a smile barely crests his lips. It was a funny feeling, to miss the times when he'd been scolded by all too eager voices for such high crime. "In truth, I did intent to adhere to my word but I feel I've come to crave the cold after our previous journey."

He shakes his head, fond of the initiative at least. "It's good you'd like to not sit still but for the moment, I think your body will thank you for allowing a bit more rest." That was what he said, yet as he began to prepare the rabbit, he made no efforts to stop Lukas.

"It'll be plain tasting but it'll go down quite easily."

The question has to be pondered. What he knew of this young man was that while undoubtedly sharp, he was a bit reckless with himself. His own antics hadn't helped or been the most shining example of control but Lukas...

"I did. Or at least that you might insist on staying up when you need all the warmth you can get."

[cielenruine]

the flowers are more pressing than the weeds... || matthias & greil

[urvanswrath]

[NSFW]

Greil shrugged off his coat, settling on one side of the couch and draping it over his lap. He was still skeptical about those rumors, though Matthias seemed to think of them as true enough to try persuading him to pluck more than just one. He took out the little flower from his coat pocket and examined it to compare once again. And there it was again, that faint, yet effortlessly pleasant smell. Perhaps he was too caught up in his fever that he didn’t notice the changes in its petals, for he tucked it back into his coat without a comment.

Although, this fever must be unlike anything he’s experienced before for him to hunch over with his elbows over his knees, to feel as if his pants had grown too tight on him —

… Shit.

It had to be those flowers, he thought. What else could have induced this arousal? He had no idea how long it would last. All he knew was that he absolutely cannot take the coat off his lap until he formulated some sort of plan to deal with it.

It took a while for Greil to answer Matthias’ suggestion. “The brew is,” he clears his throat, “unnecessary. A regular fire should suit us just fine...”

[cielenruine]

( nsfw )

On an eve like this, he supposes the man correct. The brew, while he held high hopes, likely wasn't even necessary. The margrave took little time to set the fireplace though he threw back a chuckle as flames illuminated the room and warmed them even further.

"Are you positive? I wonder if you've not already begun burning up?"

Their work had hardly been so intensive.

"Excuse me a moment." His hand was light as it brushed back stray strands of brown hair and rested against hot skin.

He's nearly tempted to pull his hand back... but the sensation of another's skill against his sends a shiver right through his arm and straight to the pit of his stomach.

[adheidth]

down the rabbit hole

mission board: distress || authority +1

[cielenruine]

Oh dear, they truly were pulling out all the stops. What else would one expect of Mittelfrank?

"Improv is a useful skill on stage. If every performance were to the letter, patronage would hardly be as plentiful as it is." A dozen times they had watched the same opera, the same musical ensemble, and the same cast; all had been different. Quite a lot of a diva's work, he assumed, was that of making certain the audience never tired of witnessing them.

He stands and stretches, a small preparation as his mind began to run. "Multiple runs of different scenes will help you best. Focusing too much on what you believe the director wants betrays your own connection with your role."

[adheidth]

On what Alice believes the director wants... while the concept makes sure sense to her in theory, in practice, she finds it rather odd. She does not pace before Matthias, unwilling to fall prey to such simple forms of childish insecurity, but she does fluff her skirts in compromise. A little fidget, disguised behind a thoughtful look.

"For an audition, should I not aspire to do what the director wishes to see? A-ah, not that I don't know! I merely wish to understand your insight."

[cielenruine]

He smiles softly. "Ultimately that should be your goal, but enjoying your time on the stage, embodying the shoes it is you've stepped into."

Matthias rests a hand over his chest. "It might be better to ask you this; what is it that draws you to the stage?"

From the shoes of a patron... to have a place on the stage was to step into another world. Members of the audience were simply guided through it, but all the best shows he'd seen left little separate between role and actor even if the truth was far from the two being similar in any way.

[adheidth]

down the rabbit hole

mission board: distress || authority +1

[cielenruine]

It takes a moment to realize but he does finally notice. "My apologies, this dress has a much brighter blue to it, doesn't it? A journey from door to door would not have a young lady dress as elegantly as you are now." His eyes brightened a bit. "You are a fan of the opera?" It made sense, and yet he found himself surprised. Had he been that transparent about it during the event?? "You'd like me to assist you with that?" He was a strategy teacher? And yet... "I suppose I can assist...but it will certainly pale in comparison to your performance." Maybe he had gotten too used to Ingrid's mannerisms. "What might the script be about? Mittlefrank is rarely does the ordinary."

[adheidth]

“That’s the problem!”

Alice’s words again are spoken as a childish huff, indignant. Blue skirts rustle, and the bow upon her head bounces as she continues animatedly.

"I've picked some scripts to practice for audition -- of course, I'm well practiced at recitation -- but the actual plot of the production is supposed to be improvised."

She looks at him expectantly, then -- she seeks not just a scene partner, but a partner in improvisation. To her, strategy and stageplay are not too different a thing.

[cielenruine]

Oh dear, they truly were pulling out all the stops. What else would one expect of Mittelfrank?

"Improv is a useful skill on stage. If every performance were to the letter, patronage would hardly be as plentiful as it is." A dozen times they had watched the same opera, the same musical ensemble, and the same cast; all had been different. Quite a lot of a diva's work, he assumed, was that of making certain the audience never tired of witnessing them.

He stands and stretches, a small preparation as his mind began to run. "Multiple runs of different scenes will help you best. Focusing too much on what you believe the director wants betrays your own connection with your role."