CREMISII -> PINNED.
toa affiliated HUBERT from fire emblem: three houses.
Hubert is, as always, in the shadows -- waiting to support Lady Edelgard in any way she sees fit.
MOBILE LINKS:
● stats! ● interview! ● playlist (to be added)! ● toa! ●
Monterey Bay Aquarium
Not today Justin

roma★
DEAR READER
Jules of Nature
todays bird

No title available
Show & Tell

No title available
cherry valley forever

if i look back, i am lost
we're not kids anymore.
Game of Thrones Daily
$LAYYYTER

ellievsbear

Discoholic 🪩
No title available
h

Kiana Khansmith
Sade Olutola
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Germany

seen from Australia
seen from Türkiye

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Singapore

seen from United States
seen from Japan

seen from Germany

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Brazil

seen from United States
seen from Netherlands

seen from Germany
seen from Brazil
seen from Italy
seen from United Kingdom

seen from China
@cremisii
CREMISII -> PINNED.
toa affiliated HUBERT from fire emblem: three houses.
Hubert is, as always, in the shadows -- waiting to support Lady Edelgard in any way she sees fit.
MOBILE LINKS:
● stats! ● interview! ● playlist (to be added)! ● toa! ●
good cop bad cop but it's light mage dark mage
fracture / faith + 1
@cremisii
She had not heard of any local magic practitioners in Garreg Mach’s castle town or the settlements nearby it, but when Micaiah hears that this was a job for a nearby lord everything makes a bit more sense; though she had only visited other regions of Fodlan for brief missions she had already gathered that nobility and commoners did not mix in the same way elsewhere as Garreg Mach; and furthermore, the nobility here like so oft elsewhere always seemed to need to outdo one another.
(She thinks of the Adrestrian duke she and Pelleas had investigated regarding a magic “weapon” and hopes this time for something less dangerous, perhaps a little desperately).
“Shall we split up for now?” She asks, looking up at Hubert (Adrestrian like most non Foreign born Black Eagles, a mage, and dedicated to Edelgard; other than most unreadable even to her); “I can begin taking care of the first aid myself, but I would like to know what exactly caused this explosion - magic or otherwise. We can each report back to each other in say… two hours time?”
Hubert has already done work here. He's seen the white winged Reyson tend to the wounded, been intrigued by his magic, and settled himself into the role of 'quiet observer'. Nothing interesting to note during that communication, and he stays because curiosity is getting the better of him.
Hubert's connection to Micaiah has thus far been short-lived, though he cannot say he minds her at all; she, too, has a healing touch that perhaps is similar to his previous companion. He wonders how different faith magic is on other continents, and perhaps it is because he does not have a discerning eye that he is unable to tell different techniques apart.
( he does not, of course, know they come from very similar places indeed. )
He hums. Considers her words, and nods. "I suppose that would be for the best," he says, and looks out across over the disaster in front of them. He has no healing touch, not in the least -- his expertise can be used for other purposes. Good that Micaiah is able to recognize that.
"I'll converse with the others. You continue helping, and I will find you when I have discovered adequate information."
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆ love headcanons !
--
apple strudel - who was your muse's first crush? do they still have feelings for that person?
baklava - does your muse believe in true love? soulmates?
cannoli - how does your muse express love? how do they act when in love that differs from how they act around others normally?
chouquette - does your muse believe they deserve to be loved? why or why not?
croissant - what is your muse's ideal date?
eclair - do they want to one day be married?
inipit - what qualities do they seek in a partner? describe physical qualities and personality traits?
lattice pie - what kinds of gifts do they like to give to/receive from their partner?
macaron - what do they do after having a fight with their partner?
makmur - what role does forgiveness play?
mille-feuille - do they believe friends can become lovers? if so, when does love transcend from platonic to romantic? if not, why?
pan dulce - do they have an "i can fix them" complex? or are they one that needs to be fixed? if neither, how do they feel about the idea?
𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖒𝖔𝖎𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖋𝖆𝖊𝖗𝖌𝖍𝖚𝖘
[RECOVERY] Heavy Armor +1 w/Perceval
Upon arriving in the Kingdom of Faerghus, it is evident that those tasked with guarding its borders are pleased to see Blue Lions students coming to help bolster their efforts. Many of the border guards are convinced that the turmoil in neighboring regions will cause criminals to be deported and instead sent to Faerghus, upending what peace they have left. Before you can make it much farther into the Kingdom, they persuade you (quite forcefully) to help fortify their defense. [Grants Heavy Armor +1]
This should not be something that he is assigned to complete, and yet here he is. He is becoming sick of being sent away on church sanctioned missions that by all rights he should not involve himself with. However, according to a certain professor inclined to use his status as faculty over Hubert, it appears that he does not have a choice in this matter.
He hopes to make this quick. These fools seem more concerned with that which is happening outside their walls rather than what is in it, and he knows that what happens within Faerghus is just as -- if not moreso -- uneasy.
With arms crossed he leans against the stone wall, his eyes surveying the scene in front of him. As a Black Eagles student he does not intend to help fortify as much as they would like him to, but he will find a way to keep busy. If nothing else, he might be able to figure out what exactly they are so afraid of.
His gaze flicks over to the professor who forced him on this little field trip. Having obvious skill with reason magic ( and with the lack of magically inclined students in the Blue Lions ) made him a prime target for the little foray.
"Professor Perceval," he says, and looks at him through his hair. "You do not expect me to assist with these menial tasks, do you? I feel I have done enough to assist a house I am not a part of."
@genrali
Mister Clean Was My Father. Call Me Clean.
Authority +1
"I do not have an answer, I wish I did. But I don't." Corrin yanks Yato from the ground, quickly sheathing it again. Other than a momentary pause, his words and actions do not seem to have any effect on the villagers.
A shame, to say the least, that they did not seem willing to listen to any sort of reason. If they wanted to argue on forevermore, then he wouldn't just stand by as some figure they could turn to every once in a while when they wanted a quick word of advice only to go back to arguing.
It was probably best to just leave for now. He could not take a second more of this.
If he had been able to, he would have provided the blessing of water to both villages, had he been a little stronger. But he did not bear half of the power than Valla's former king had.
No matter how badly he wished, Corrin did not have the answers. He was not able to help, and that fact alone broke his heart.
[end?]
Mister Clean Was My Father. Call Me Clean.
Authority +1
Corrin flinches as he's shoved out of the way by the arguing villagers, head pounding from their continued arguing. Even if he tries, he knows he won't be able to get between them again.
And he's not liable to join in their arguing himself. It was pointless, how much they were just arguing on without end. Wouldn't it just have been easier to share what little they had from the start?
Clearly not. Or they hadn't even thought of it. Corrin had a feeling that there was some feud between these villages that had run deeper than simply water, possibly for longer than either of the current leaders could remember. Perhaps they had always been at odds, and this was only a natural escalation.
"Stop it!" Corrin unsheates Yato, slamming it into the ground with a reasonably loud thud echoing through the crowd. They fall silent, if for what is only going to be a mere moment, the two leaders ogling over at the king in shock, "There is no point in any of this! If you just stand here arguing forever, nature could again change its course! I don't know what happened between your villages before this, but put it to rest!"
"Threatening them does nothing but rise the tensions."
Hubert stands back behind Corrin and looks down at the sword that is unceremoniously standing upright between them. He almost rolls his eyes, but that too would be counterproductive. "You are speaking in hypotheticals, Lord Corrin. Give them an answer that they can go home with tonight, or suffer consequences."
He is growing irritated, slowly allowing it to bloom in his chest. If there is not a choice made soon, he will leave, and allow Corrin to deal with this on his own.
It will be unfortunate to report back that the mission was failed, but if that is what he must do, then he will. He has offered his council and sees no way through but with one party utterly destroyed.
𝖆 𝖋𝖆𝖑𝖘𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓.
reyson smiles a little. he does not know if the beorc magics are in any way as circumstantial as his own ( he thinks of the way certain things are entirely lost when away from serenes, or when singing alone, or when the tides of battle swell ) but he assumes not.
either way, he demonstrates his method of healing to hubert, pleased with the rapt audience. it is about the lyrics, yes, but the singer's skill also has so much to do with the success or failure of the art. he heals one of the mages, then another. there are some with injuries that require more attention. he wishes leanne were here, to sing with him, but she is not.
"while i do this, see if you can help them salvage their work. a mage's eye might be sharper than mine in figuring out what can be saved."
Hubert does not understand the lyrics. The language that's sung is beautiful, no doubt, and incredibly haunting; it is something that he will look up later when he has a spare moment. For now, though, he continues to look at him and study the way the magic flows through him.
"Interesting," he says, under his breath. Sharp eyes flick up to meet the healer's and he bows his head in agreement.
"That might be a place where my skills are better suited. I will leave the finer details to you, then," he agrees. He gives the man one last once-over, considering the physical changes to both him and his associates, and then turns to leave Reyson to his work.
end!
Mister Clean Was My Father. Call Me Clean.
Authority +1
Corrin sighs, he does not want to have to doom one of the villages to suffering and hardship. But there does not seem to be much of another choice, no matter how badly he wished to find one, "They have simply been arguing circles for all of the hours that I've been here. If they were able to talk somewhat reasonably, I suppose we wouldn't be here though..."
Hand tensing on Yato, he turns away from Edelgard's shadow, white cape fluttering in the wind behind him as he strode back towards the villagers.
Their arguing continues to prick at Corrin's nerves, ringing in pointed ears. He was lucky he hadn't developed a headache earlier, but at this rate he was liable to get one if they didn't stop yelling anytime soon.
He steps in between the two village leaders, gently pushing them away from each other, "Stop it! You are never going to reach any conclusion at all if you keep going like this! You will only end up leading both of your villages to ruin!"
Hubert watches as his companion approaches the feud. His hopes are not high for an outcome that would benefit both sides, nor does he have the slightest of confidences that Corrin will be able to come to a solution. It appears that one village will be doomed, whether they wish for this to be the case or not.
Tragedy, he dimly considers, and then brushes the thought away. There is no helping a situation like this.
strength checks: 2d20 = 16, 8
He watches as the two village leaders try to push Corrin out of the way, eager to get back at each other's throats.
"You're a lyin' thief!" "You're takin' all the water for yourself!" "My people need that to survive!"
He looks over at the young king and raises his eyebrows.
mm, freaky man-baby
She nodded once at his acceptance, brusque, but ultimately pleased that he had so willingly agreed to follow her into the dark wood. Trusting Hubert was something that came with practice, and when she had first arrived at the Imperial Palace all those years ago she had feared him just as everyone else did, taking the cold gaze of a predator at face value in this land where everyone looked as though they wanted to devour her, for good or ill.
But with time, she remembered that she could be a predator as well, and his circling felt less like being hunted, and more like being assessed. A protector in his own right, for Lady Edelgard.
She led the way into the forest surrounding the monastery, strides confident as she followed the tromp of old footprints – careless, these hunters, to leave such deep tracks – into the center of a dense copse of trees, a small opening cleared for the statue itself.
It did not seem old, the cracks in the stone fresh, more dirtied by exposure to the rains of the last week than eroded by age. There remained little sign of activity around the statue to indicate what it might have been monument to, and the damage done had scoured any sense of purpose or identity from it. Footsteps light, Petra approached, placing the palm of her hand on a small patch of smooth, undisturbed stone.
If she closed her eyes, would these supposed spirits tell her their names? Would she have been able to hear them, if she listened?
Turning back to Hubert, her brow pinched into a sad frown, she said simply, "I am not thinking that this was done by spirits."
Hubert followed Petra, acting as a shadow for a could-be assassin. He thinks of her in this way; she may not be an equal to Lady Edelgard, and to expect her to be would be to hold her to an unreachable standard, however he finds her to be competent in her own right.
As she suggested earlier, if these ghosts -- or whatever they are -- are corporeal, they'd better pray to whatever goddess they believed in that Petra is merciful. Their other option was Hubert, who certainly would not be.
Petra moved deliberately, her eyes scanned the ground and saw things that Hubert would not. His forte did not involve tracking in the least, but he could appreciate her skills and see how they were useful. He watched as she looked at him, her expression troubled, and he considered.
"If not spirits, then it would appear your skillset will be of use today. Of course, I can always provide a necessary backup. I'll defer to your judgement."
He looked down at the tracks and once again determined he could not make sense of them. "Then it begs the question of what you do believe did this?"
He does not wait for an answer, instead touches the cool stone of the statue, searching along its cracks for an answer ...
perception roll: 1d20=4
... and finds nothing amiss.
Mister Clean Was My Father. Call Me Clean.
Authority +1
"I want to hope there is no need to choose," Corrin says strongly, resting his hand on Yato, fingers tightening around the hilt of the holy blade, "I'm sure there is a way we could come up with a solution that benefits both sides."
He does not want to have to stand between the two villages and be forced to choose a side. He had been unable to do it even when the choice should have seemed obvious to him.
At least this time, I wouldn't be choosing between the two sides of my family; now would I? He thinks cynically. But perhaps more was at stake here. War between two large kingdoms was one thing, it was inevitable no matter his choice.
But here? At the behest of the common people who would suffer if he made the wrong one? He was not sure he would be able to follow a certain path in that case.
"I want to be able to come up with that solution. There is no harm in trying to find peace in this chaos; now is there?"
Ah, such naivety. Hubert almost smiles at the insistence on a solution but steadies himself, lest he give away all his thoughts. There are facts of the situation at play:
there is not enough water to split
there is one village that has long suffered the lack of it
there is one that now does not have what they are used to
Hubert can see the divide, and he knows there is no middle ground.
"If you have a suggestion, I would be open to hearing it. It seems they have no better idea than the either of us, which means yours might be the direction we can explore. However, I remind you, that they are about to slit each other's throats at any moment."
He pauses, and looks at the two sides. Corrin and Hubert will need to doom one of them today.
"Hasten your decision, or I will make it for you."
𝖆 𝖋𝖆𝖑𝖘𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓.
reyson nods as he looks over the injured. it's a shame that this happened at all, but at least these people are alive. he glances over at hubert and gives him a nod.
"i shall take the lead here, then. but you'll watch closely, and while you won't be able to heal the way i do, perhaps you'll be able to learn something."
there's something to be said for observation, even if mimicry is not possible. "i function better when things are in order, but i've managed it from even the chaos of war," he says, softly. "it will simply... tire me out more. i'll rest after. this is more important."
he never thought he'd find himself caring one way or the other what happened to any beorc, much less ones he doesn't know, but here he is caring nonetheless.
it's nice. it feels... like he, too, is healing.
he looks at the injured man and nods, singing an immediate galdr of recovery. the injuries are not so great that the song cannot heal him, which is good. some of the others will need a more intense bout of magic, but... he is prepared.
Perhaps he will learn something. He intends to, at the very least. Even if he cannot replicate it, perhaps he can study it -- magic from different continents has intrigued him enough that he wishes to learn.
He idly wonders if his professor, Lady Deirdre, knows of this sort of thing. He might need to inquire next he speaks with her.
"I see. This is certainly less chaotic than war, but I can understand how this would become less orderly rather quickly. I have not asked any other wielders of faith magic whether they are better at casting under specific circumstances, but perhaps I shall."
He watches Reyson with a measured and even expression, considering what is in front of him. A song is a strange way of casting, but this entire ritual is new to him. Thusly, he just watches, observes, and tries to learn.
The Setup.
Congratulations, you have chosen to undergo a psychological experiment in order to test the bounds of relationships and what the average individual deems appropriate behavior with a speed-dating simulation. You will be placed in a space with other like-minded subjects, where you will then converse about specific topics provided to you.
Your goals are to be as well liked as possible. We will act as facilitators for this simulation and watch the outcomes. We will be taking notes.
The Rules.
Signups will be from February 8th-13th. If you miss this window, your muse will not be allowed to enter the mini event. This is to give time for the organizers of the event (Ruaidhri and Arden) enough time to generate the lists.
The event will run from February 14th until February 20th.
You can sign up as many of your muses as you would like, but please note that the event runs for just over a week. Don’t overextend yourself!
Please tag all interactions #toaLoveHypothesis2024
Every participant will be paired with one other muse per round, which will be posted on Knoll’s blog. You may choose to do a thread with your partner, or you can send an ask. Please communicate with your partner to decide which works best for both of you!
At the start of each round, you will be assigned a random partner and a random conversation topic suggestion (you do not need to adhere to this topic, it’s just a suggestion for if your muse doesn’t know what to talk about).
The goal is to get your partner to like you! You want to impress your partner, and get them to give a thumbs up approval for the next round. Liking or disliking you does not affect whether you progress to the next round, only your score at the end.
At the beginning of each round Hubert or Knoll will go into each participant’s inbox and ask whether or not they like their paired partner. This ask is to be answered privately. You cannot change your mind once the ask has been answered.
Additional Info and Signup Form.
as they say in firene: oh no!!!!
' before they disturb more of the monastery ' is huberts means of saying ' before they disturb lady edelgard ', louis figures.
they could be rattling the doors of quite literally everyone in fodlan, and so long as edelgard was left undisturbed & restful, hubert would not so much as shift from his bed - that's what he thinks, anyways. adrestian retainers in their dedications were almost unparalleled !
at the sight of him, louis blinks slowly. "oh ! so that is where my shirt went," the embroidery down the sleeves was a surefire indication of it, a firenese styled shirt that was purposefully loose so to enable the feeling of a cool floral breeze when tending to farmland. "i'd wondered if i had left it at the lake, but my wading in the water was nothing but fruitless. i suppose i was having such a wonderful time with your company i must have forgotten."
at that, louis begins his walk back to the monastery gates. "well, i do think they will be asking for some demonstration of sorts. . . do you have any ability with an axe ?" louis questions. "i myself have used them here and there, but they are far from my weapon of choice. a specific--"
emblem. . . how to describe an emblem. . . how to tell hubert he has met edelgard before, too. . . louis never really used her bracelet , and yet he has heard tales of the spats they would have.
"no, nothing."
when they reach the group, they're met with a deadpan leader. ' you're not edelgard ', he says, disappointment prominent in his voice. ' we were askin' for edelgard. . .'
oh. no 'lady' additive. louis casts a look towards hubert, expectantly, as if he's waiting for whatever may come.
"If you had wanted this particular shirt back, perhaps you should have asked for it."
He does not care that this belonged once to his -- acquaintance? friend? -- fellow student. It was the first thing he was able to grab, and by far the most comfortable. He ties the strings taunt around the neckline and proceeds to follow the other into the night.
"I am not well-versed in the axe, no," he says, and narrows his eyes as they approach the group. "Those skills are beyond my reach. I've demonstrated my aptitude for you by the lake, unless you've already forgotten by now."
He stands by Louis' side as the group begins to speak. They demand of them his future Empress' attention -- and in the dead of night. Hubert's eyes, narrowed though they already were, become cold and distant, and his lips curl downwards into a sharp frown.
"And by what authority do you come to bother Lady Edelgard at this hour?" he asks, and takes a step in front of Louis. He is not intending to pick a fight tonight, but if these people have no right to be here, then perhaps he should impose upon them a lesson. "She owes you no audience. I highly doubt she would speak to those who are so... ill-mannered, but that is an idle thought for the waking hours. You've come all this way, so I do suppose this warrants a response. My suggestion is that you leave, unless you wish to incur my wrath. I would hate for this to come to bloodshed."
mm, freaky man-baby
A strange club of occult-enthusiasts calling themselves “The Ghosthunters” suddenly appears and attempts to scout some help for the investigation of an old, almost completely disfigured statue in the middle of the forest. They claim there have been multiple sightings of the “ghost” in this area, and that it has something to do with the statue. Or it could be a wild boar scaring some villagers at night, but The Ghosthunters are one-hundred-percent sure that it’s a ghost. Grab your ghost-hunting equipment (a pair of good boots and a regular weapon, really) and a friend if you’re feeling scared, and unravel the mystery behind this rumor! (starter for @cremisii)
"Hubert."
She approached without preamble, steps silent coming from behind – she had seen him doing it to so many others, both during and in between classes, and the thought occurred to her that she could certainly give him the same startle he gave to others.
She had not sought him out merely to sneak up on him, however. Petra had heard some of the rumors accumulating around the academy, and the forest surrounding, of a mysterious statue, and of the alleged spirits within. While she considered herself an accomplished tracker, and in-tune with the spirits of Brigid as they flowed about the natural world, she could not claim the same of dark spirits, or any ghosts which might linger in the space before the precipice of the beyond.
And for that, she came to he of the darkest inclinations she knew.
"Are you hearing of these rumors? It is a statue in the forest, but these Hunters of Ghosts are believing that there is something more. Something that lurks in the dark," she explained when he turned to face her. She gestured to the bow and quiver at her side pointedly, then raised her gaze to his, glittering and bright. "If there is a thing with touchability, then I can be protecting us. But if it is not, then I am hoping that I can be counting on you? I would like to be investigating these claims, Hubert."
Hubert was impressed. He had not heard Petra approach, and though he was not startled by her appearance he was surprised. Luckily for him, a fellow Black Eagles student was never a threat, and therefore did not raise any alarm bells.
"Ah. Petra. It is good to see you," he turned to look at her, and listened intently to her words. She had clearly thought this through ( something he expected from someone of Petra's caliber and intelligence ) and had already formulated a plan.
"That is correct," he said as he looked at her weapon. Despite the short amount of time they were separated ( Hubert blamed this upon his duties that stole him away from the monastery ) it remained clear that their friendship had not suffered for it. "If this creature is incorporeal as you have suggested, I have brought my tome along in case it becomes hostile. Hopefully it will not come to that, but it is best to be prepared."
The rumors had indeed intrigued and piqued Hubert's interest, if for nothing else he wished to know what was happening around the monastery. It was his duty, of course, to keep Lady Edelgard safe and to inform her of any goings-on.
Such a trifling matter such as ghost hunting was beneath her. And yet -- Hubert found this to be a fun exercise and thought experiment.
"Come. Let's hunt ghosts, as you said."
Send me hc + a word of your choosing and I’ll write a headcanon relating to that word!
Or send hc + two words and I’ll try and come up with one that links those two things together!
thats not orange
' face me '.
eyes open, and louis nods. there is mud caking his legs, and yet louis does not mind - beyond the occasional bug or two crawling up his calves, it was little price to pay for an enjoyable evening.
was hubert going to cast it onto him ? surely not. oh, this was another one of their russian roulette-esque trust activities. like how a feral cat requires patience and the vulnerability to extend ones hand out to it - risk the claws, the cat scratch fever, but you may just be able to have it go a different way. maybe, just maybe, instead of blood it only hisses. maybe it only stares at you, wary and unblinking, but ultimately without suspicion.
hubert was undeniably one of the most interesting people hes met in fodlan thus far. he ponders a moment if this is something decent to write about back home - but what would he even say to his brothers ? hubert von vestra, presumed adrestian nobility from his composure, and all his odd encounters.
' today, hubert and i met at a lake, and then said he would show me a magic tome before i stood there unarmed and covered in mud '.
no, that doesn't sound right.
' today, hubert and i ran into each other in the woods at night, and he told me to face him as he crawled out from the lake - i do not believe i am getting my shirt back. could you perhaps send another from home ? '
no, that still sounds wrong.
louis exhales through his nose. he always always struggled to form those letters.
"very well, hubert," arms outstretched, a show of relaxation, an indication that he was most certainly not going to move. in the isolation the woods provides, as silent and distant as it is from the monastery with a man he knew to be distrustful of him, maybe some would err on the edge of concern. "go ahead. i shall not remove my eyes from you. do you see them ? they're fixed upon you."
Hubert watches his expression, and holds the tome open in his hand. His eyes narrow, and he begins to cast.
One after another the balls of Miasma cast into the lake, dissipating before they can ripple off into the water and cause harm. He does not aim anything at Louis, as that would be a distinctly unfair advantage; Hubert at least has clothes upon his back, whereas Louis is exposed without any means of protection.
The spell spreads out in a sea of shining iridescent purple and Hubert looks upon it with a self satisfied smile. "Consider not bathing here for the next few minutes. If you are as weak to magic as you claim, it will probably make you sick."
He turns, looks at Louis for a moment. Strange, that he feels less on edge around him now than he had just ten minutes prior. It does not matter.
"If you would like to see something else, consider keeping your eyes fixed upon me," he says, and looks to the sky. He reaches up and twists, his thumb moving outwards as his pinky reaches inwards. He holds the book, and casts light so bright into the sky.
It's beautiful, but Hubert does not think of that. He thinks about the dark magic that surges through him tome, through his fingers and his bones. He closes his eyes and lets the feeling wash over him.
as they say in firene: oh no!!!!
knock knock.
knock knock knock.
oh, louis knows he will hate this. sincerely, truly hate this. hubert may not be aware of louis' people-watching tendencies, and yet, he is about to find out in the woeful darkness night provides.
what was louis to do ? prince alfred and princess celine were resting. he could not bother them. as for the others hailing from home, he hadn't heads nor tails as to where they even remotely slept - and so it came to hubert.
"hubert ?" his voice is quiet in an attempt to not wake others. "are you up ? my deepest apologies, but i do require assistance of some kind. . ."
there were. . . so many people at the monastery gate. about ten, with more still arriving. not a knight of seiros in sight ( for their travels had taken them to a rather distant place . . . ) and louis was not one to stand idle in the face of others dismay.
"i was on my late night walk, and it seems there is a kerfuffle by the monastery gates. i've no clue as to whom to contact, given i'm awfully new, but you appear to be the only person whose location i'm truly confident in. i would abhor to barge into some poor strangers room."
no response. oh dear.
louis knocks again, for the last time. "er . . . something about princess edelgards axework. they desire to see it," which was true. he had heard them discussing it. louis had no reason to lie. "given as she is your princess, i deemed it appropriate to seek you out, beyond my other motives."
@cremisii, for +anything.
There is an incessant knocking on Hubert's door. It is a loud staccato, and it makes him grimace.
He is not properly dressed, as it is indeed almost time for bed. In order to be presentable he would need to put his uniform back on and brush his hair into place ( covering one eye, of course, as is his signature style ) which is not something he is keen on doing at present.
He is, unfortunately, tired. And yet there is an incessant knocking at his door.
He hears Louis' voice and groans audibly. What could he possibly want at this hour? He does not respond, only pulls on a loose white shirt ( which, keen eyes might note as having belonged once to a certain Blue Lion from Firene ) and ties a black sash around his waist. Paired with his trousers, he at the very least looks like he is amongst the living.
He pulls on his boots before opening the door. He stares at Louis, a frown clear upon his features, and speaks slowly. "Lady Edelgard is not to be disturbed at this hour. Why are they demanding to seek an audience with her at this hour?"
He does not ask for specifics. Are these people from town? Or perhaps they are idle knights, wishing to bother students? He turns, grabs his jacket and puts it over his shoulders. "Let's deal with this before they disturb more of the monastery."