goddess . @deamare - Tumblr Blog

didn't this happen in the bible

showcase / potion of resurrection

yukyunotabibito

Nasir smiles, with entirely too much teeth to not be unsettling, her eyes glistening with a hint of a threat, "My good sirs, I promise you, there is nothing to find in this hut but dust and the remains of what seems to be an entirely too shabby life."

Nasir doesn't imagine that she will be able to stop types like these though. A little too determined to make a quick buck, doing anything they had to to get there in the end.

A shame. She would have liked to get out of this whole thing a little more peacefully if there was no potion to be found. She does so hope that they do not try any further to provoke her, or she fears what may happen to them in the end. Easy money they may want, but it certainly won't be what they find.

She moves to stand in the doorway, blocking the men from entering as she leans casually against it.

"There is no potion, and I don't think you'll find even if you dig up the floorboards," Nasir chuckles softly underneath her breath, "Frankly, it may not have even existed in the first place. And if it did, this man certainly did not keep it. Just look around this place. What use would someone living so simply have for such a thing?"

#♡ . ┊ 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 — didn't this happen in the bible #♡ ˚· (　nasir　).#yukyunokabito

"The floorboards? Eh, good suggestion."

Ishtar watches, half in horror, as the men crowd before her companion. The doorway is small, easily filled and without much room to slip past, but there is only one body between it and three more. She doesn't want to strike first, and certainly not with them so near to someone she would prefer go unharmed.

"It don't matter what the last guy needed it for, just that he had it. Gonna stand in our way forever?"

What would be perhaps worse than allowing these men to defile the home of the dead would be for them to fight before it. One wrong move and the place is ash, or even less than that. Ishtar shifts her weight, draws her arms around herself, and clear her throat.

She looks to her partner in the doorway.

"Let's show them what we found, then."

There's not time to communicate her plan, or even to declare that she has one. Her gaze has to be enough, where it can be seen beyond the smirking men. With a thick swallow, she pushes her way between them and towards the door herself.

"Let us handle this... peacefully."

my dear there are secrets here (i will carry them home)

[a neatly folded piece of inn stationery, dated Pegasus Moon 118-; the date is smudged. the hand is once more neat, however there are words which are spotty and difficult to read where the ink might have skipped over the firm indentations of handwriting on sheets atop this one; there are no visible strikethroughs on this page, however it seems that the author wrote many more drafts before satisfied with the letters sent.]

I. You ask if it is truly so startling, and I must confess to you: yes, it is. You will have to forgive me, then, my caution, and the poor impression I seem to have left on you. The life I have led is not one of leisurely letter-writing, nor of casual conversation with a stranger, irritable or otherwise. I do not know by which force of mischief or malice we have been brought together, but I apologize that I seem to have accused you of the latter without bearing. I have been accused of being worse than irritable, but rude and cruel I would prefer not to be, if I can at all help it. Perhaps sometimes my caution gets the better of me. Neither do I know what more I could have to offer you, merely being but words on a page.But, as I have been told, sometimes words bear more than their weight. Perhaps if I had taken the leisure of letter writing or the casual conversations of a stranger, then I might have become a rather different man. Then again, perhaps not. It seems to me that, at least in this, we are both the bearers of our ghosts. If it is your wish to continue correspondence, then I will respond. I cannot promise the stranger will not continue to be irritable, but at the very least he will be kinder. Sincerely, R.C.

#♡ . ┊ 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 — my dear there are secrets here #♡ ˚· (　raven　).#peerlessscowl

[ once more, the reply comes in the same envelope. this time, however, it is empty of the original letter. in its stead is a piece of paper with torn edges, the topmost of which have flecks of ink like the bottom of letters written by a much neater hand. ]

R.C. There are far worse things a stranger can be than irritable. Understand that there is nothing for me to forgive. After all, I could have left you well enough alone. I cannot claim to know you, and so I cannot claim to know what you are or are not, but I can express that I am certain there is more to you than any perceived rudeness or cruelty. Those who are defined by such traits are so seldom aware of them, after all. Or aware enough to want to be otherwise. So yes, I'd quite like to better know the man to whom I write. And you have given me something more than just a coincidence to pique that interest. I'll confide in you that my life has been similarly neither. I may not be irritable, but I cannot say I am without cruelty. Had my hands more time to make use of all the script they spent all those years learning, perhaps I wouldn't have ghosts to fear odd letters from in the first place. So you can offer me this conversation, if it is not too much that I ask. That we have lived lives without the leisure of letter writing or the casual conversation of a stranger does not mean that we must never. It is childish of me, perhaps, but I think it might be nice. Do you dwell often on who you might be, were those things different? It has never occurred to me, the notion that I might be different, too. It is as though I can envision a hundred different versions of the same story, and yet I am fated to be the same in all of them. What a morbid thought to entertain. Sincerely, I.

the heart knows nothing of your love

( anniversary / reason +1 )

crookedorel

On the whole, Berkut found Adrestia – and its nobles, in particular – to be gaudy, ostentatious, and occasionally tacky, their pandering reeking of a festering rot of desperation that colored every smile, every vapid, insincere gesture.

He had assumed, unkindly, that this would be no different, and as they were led through the halls he found this assumption strengthening into a resolve with every echoing, vainglorious footstep.

And then he saw the portrait.

Of its original intent, it would not have looked out of place in any noble's manse, and certainly not in the imperial palace. He thought, vacantly, that perhaps if there had been time, if there had been a future, he might have called upon the favored portaiteer to paint Rinea in such a style, with such lavish ermines and fine silks and rows upon rows of fresh flowers that she might have looked as resplendent as he held her in his heart.

Their host inclined her head in thanks at the lady's dismissal, scurrying off back the way they came as though the gaping, bloody maw where there had once been eyes might have judged her every motion. Berkut had not noticed until she was well away the weight that her presence had settled in his gut, a sickly sweet bezoar of infectious sorrow.

The lady Ishtar turned to him, imploring, as she had been during their trial what had seemed like so long ago, and although he hated to deny her anything, he shook his head.

"Not versed. Victim, but not versed." It felt strange to admit aloud, though his chest puffed out a bit in defiance of the statement. "I daresay you are the more educated in these matters, of we two. But...it does bear a passing...familiarity that I have the misfortune of understanding."

He cocked his head, making defiant eye contact with the ghastly figure in the portrait, as though a predator that might have been frightened off by the display of confidence.

"But I surely doubt that there are any Faithful of this kind so far ashore."

#♡ . ┊ 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 — the heart knows nothing of your love #♡ ˚· (　berkut　).#crookedorel #oh yeah your lover is cursed and maybe evil? first time?#your patience...as always...#tahgnk u

Silver eyes are momentarily apologetic, understanding. She does not prod the bruise he so valiantly covers, instead considering his words with a quiet hum.

"My own expertise is much more honed in the way of violence than..." She looks once more to the painting, presses her lips into a line. "Cruelty."

It is perhaps his manner of speaking that inclines her to anticipate his understanding, but she does not elaborate in the case that he doesn't. Hers was never the language of curses, the art of a fate worse than death. Once, she may have lived long enough to be an instrument in exactly that-- perhaps she already has, but she is not fluent in such on her own.

Hands are drawn to either of her shoulders, arms curled around herself as Ishtar steps carefully forward.

"We would have an easier time finding answers in the hearts of the women themselves than the magic itself." She is thinking aloud, brows furrowed as eyes trace smears of oil like blood that muddy what should have been the soft ivory of a lady's smile. Privately, Ishtar wishes she did not understand so easily how someone could still love a thing so unsightly.

Without looking to Berkut, she raises her voice just so that she might address him.

"I worry that may not work, however."

She is certain without having seen the painting in its prime that it was beautiful, that its likeness is still. She believes, without question, that there is a love for it like nothing else.

"If our Lady is correct, and this is the soul of the woman that she loves... It is perhaps the painting that is more honest."

me when a blind bard tells me to do anything *adds 6 die to my roll*

TOAEpiphany Finale — Mountain Pass ; Unit 1

"Still breathing over here."

There are fresh dark marks around newly singed edges of Legault's clothing. They streak across the fabric as he brushes it with debris-scraped hands.

"The others up ahead—they took a blast too. Why don't we head over and ask them your question?"

The construct in the distance looms, its limbs whirling back into place at a mechanical ticking pace after thrusting its weapon at them.

"...I'd also prefer a little more distance for a moment. Just in case that thing has another one of those javelins up its sleeve."

Unit 1 moves one node Right, landing on the same node as Unit 13.

The thief sets off into the valley, already set on his path. He wasn't lying about owing the others up ahead, after all.

@deamare ; @moriddyn ; @warpaway

moriddyn

They continue on, moving once again out of the golem’s reach- (thankfully, Elffin thinks- he is not eager to face another javelin so soon).

Nothing happens!

And so it happens, (or, more likely, by the will of those he follows) they approach another group in the mountains.

[Chatplay Interlude]

@deamare @warpaway @katabatiic

#toaepiphany2025 #♡ . ┊ 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 — me when a blind bard tells me to do anything #moriddyn #warpaway #katabatiic

Distance-- Ishtar is partial to the idea. They meet with the others, they speak. They breathe for whatever time they are allotted, which is never much, and then they are at odds with the world again. The Leonster boy is right, kill that golem and make it back, that is all they can aim for.

"I doubt we'll have the privilege of distance for too long," she does not look to any one of her allies as she speaks, "it is only right we take advantage of it, then."

Unit 1 unleashes Ranged on Unit 6: Towering Golem. Unit 6: Towering Golem takes -1HP [2/3HP] Unit 1 now has 0/2 Ranged uses.

Familiar heat snakes from her veins to the tips of her fingers, cracks across the broken world before them in a streak of brilliant white.

"Let us pray it does not take much more."

@moriddyn @warpaway @katabatiic

me when a blind bard tells me to do anything *adds 6 die to my roll*

TOAEpiphany Finale — Mountain Pass ; Unit 1

warpaway

the decision to move is one easily made - not much needs to be said. the goal is clear, and there's really only one way to achieve it, after all.

linhardt follows, staying closer to the blond than the other two. he's never been a front line sort of person.

then, though, the group is beset upon by harsh magics. first, it's lightning, and for the first time since this ordeal has started, linhardt is glad their best friend is missing. then, it's something a little worse - an impossibly cold wave hits them like a fireball, but sinks into their skin like frostbite.

Unit 4: White Beast unleashes Siege on Unit 1! Unit 1 takes -1HP [3/4 HP] Unit 4: White Beast now has 0/2 Siege uses Unit 7: Mage Artillery uses a Ranged attack on Unit 1! Unit 1 takes -1HP [2/4 HP]

it's unpleasant, it's uncomfortable, but it's manageable. he looks around. everyone's standing. good.

"let's be a little more careful, shall we?" they request, voice embittered by the situation. as harsh as it may sound - they're actually glad. everyone seems okay, and certainly, if they need to employ their gift from maria, they can handle it.

@deamare @moriddyn @katabatiic

moriddyn

“Let’s,” Elffin agrees, brushing off the sting of magic as best he can. He doesn’t quite like how well they are doing, even if they are still standing- it could take only one misstep for the entire group to fall apart.

Turning his attention away from their opponents, he gestures towards a lesser used path towards the side. “There’s a path over there- shall we?”

Unit 1 moves one node Left and claims a node.

Waiting for the others to catch up, he gestures to further up. “Once we’ve rested, we should also check if there is anything hidden up ahead.”

@katabatiic @warpaway @deamare

#toaepiphany2025 #♡ . ┊ 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 — me when a blind bard tells me to do anything #moriddyn #warpaway #katabatiic

They pick along the road less trodden, a moment's reprieve from beasts and mages and golems and-- Ishtar smooths where sparks have caught and bitten holes in her skirt.

Once we've rested, as though there is such a thing as rest for them in all of this. When it ends, perhaps. If it does.

Enemy Phase: Nothing happens :D

"Is everyone well enough?" Despite it all, she asks. The way ahead will be no kinder than the way behind them, and though they may have no choice but to take it, there is at least some kindness in pretending. "We would be best to continue moving."

me when a blind bard tells me to do anything *adds 6 die to my roll*

TOAEpiphany Finale — Mountain Pass ; Unit 1

moriddyn

Some allies move ahead, one stays back to heal a different group. It isn’t as though he reproaches either action, only that they were growing a bit too far apart for his liking. (It’s a shame that he does not know any of their names, else it would be easier to call out to them in turn).

“Ah- wait!” He calls to the healer first, then their fighters, bringing them back to a central location.

“It would be best for us to stick together for the moment, before we choose to do anything…”

Enemy Phase: Nothing happens!

“...Is everyone alright?” Checking, now that they were closer, for injuries- major mostly, minor ones being more of a concern for later. Thankfully, it seemed they were free of them for the moment.

@warpaway @katabatiic @deamare

"We're all fine, but..."

To the north, there's a great rumbling of the earth. Trails of fire streak through the sky amongst enormous rocks and slabs of rubble, crashing down up further along the river where some of the others had advanced.

"...Seems some of our allies may not be so lucky. Perhaps we should advance?"

Unit 1 moves one node Up

Despite its phrasing as a suggestion, the thief already motions to take point. His eyes scan for movement amongst the trees and the hills.

@deamare @moriddyn @warpaway

#toaepiphany2025 #♡ . ┊ 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 — me when a blind bard tells me to do anything #moriddyn #warpaway #katabatiic

Ishtar makes no argument against command. She follows, she fights, she does not waver or wander from their little band. Jagged rock and clouds of debris where they crumble and crash become impossible to discern from smoke and ash.

The silver haired man suggests, and so they move to follow. Her own eyes dart one way, the other, then halt.

Unit 1: Towering Golem moves one node Right, ending above Unit 1

"There."

It scrapes in her dry throat, the word. She doesn't have to gesture-- they all see it. There is hardly anything else to see anymore. "...we would be best to brace ourselves."

@moriddyn @warpaway @katabatiic

deliverred

"Lukas, my lady" he offers to her in answer, pleasant smile on his face as he watches her hesitate before eventually taking a seat. She looked exhausted and far away...

"Perhaps, but until they arrive here, I think you're fine to rest a moment. Wounds will be treated first, and unless they are severe, they won't need this until that has been finished," he assures her, casting about for a moment before finding what he was looking for. He bends down to grab a water skin that had been left within reach, and kneels to offer it to her.

"If anyone complains, they may have a word with me, since I was the one to offer it to you. So please, try to lay some of your burdens down and recover."

#toaepiphany2025 #♡ ˚· (　lukas　).#deliverred #i have missed writing with your guys so much my friend #you put a knightguy in front of this mf and she goes ah... is this... reinhardt....

Tentative, unsure, but weary enough not to object, Ishtar accepts the offer. The water is lukewarm but it is water, and she realizes suddenly how dry her throat has become, how long it has been since she last drank.

Still, she drinks only as much as she needs. The waterskin is sealed again, sat upon the cot for Lukas to take for himself or perhaps whoever else may pass by. "Then I must thank you again, Lukas."

Hands fold in her lap, tired eyes returned to he who kneels before her. It's familiar, this sort of care. For as much as she may feel herself undeserving, this stranger does not budge. He does not treat her with kindness for a father he does not know, a name that means nothing to him. He is simply kind to her, as she is to assume he would be to anyone else.

"I fear if I lay my burdens down, I may never be able to pick them back up," there is the faintest smile on her lips, "but I'd like to believe there may be a world without them, once all of this is over. For more than just myself."

♡ ˚· @peerlessscowl asked:

"Hey." Finding her in the crowd is as easy as breathing by now, the light of her breaking through the dull, muted tones that have washed over the bunker in the last few weeks. He hadn't noticed at first that it was hers that his eyes immediately sought out each time, the instinct to draw to her side after each shearing separation becoming more deliberate until it rose in his mind to the top of his checklist: where's Ishtar, where's Chad, has anyone fallen, larder, armory. The time in the novel was...calmer than he had expected, even upon waking up incarcerated. There were moments, and more than one of them, where he fully expected to draw his blade, to need to break down a door, to press into a guard's face and break through...which never came. In the end, the story being told was not one of heat and desperation, it was, ultimately, a love story. His eyes raked over her form, checking for outward damage, before bringing a palm up to cup her cheek and meet her eye, checking for inward damage. "Holding up?" Although circumstances had tugged them apart at each juncture, he found that his thoughts dwelled – not only here at the bunker, but to the steps coming out of the inn where she might often be waiting for him, to that field of flowers in autumn, to the wooded roads they rode down, to - "You look tired." Fingers trailed down, across the curve of her shoulder blade, until eventually they came to thread with hers, and he tugged her close. "Come on. Let's...let's sit, for a bit."

There is always a moment's rush of fear just before they reunite-- that they might not, that they might never again-- but that fear has gradually begun to ebb faster and faster each time. Security is a dangerous thing, and Ishtar fears nothing more than him vanishing the moment she stops fearing he might.

But he hasn't yet.

Lithe fingers graze the back of his palm, his wrist, a touch for a touch, where silver lashes flutter shut so that the world becomes the warmth of his palm against her cheek for as long as she can bear without looking at him again.

"I am," she answers, "and you?"

It's strange to admit how much she worries for him when they are apart, strange to worry as much as she does. She had worried for him, once, but the hand at her strings was seldom far enough to be missed. Always pulling at her limbs, always guiding her movements. A dog does not miss its leash, after all.

She shouldn't be surprised anymore, not about how different this feels.

And there is his hand, moving, guiding hers into it. It's not deliberate, the way her eyes flit to where fingers weave together, stolen away by the way he pulls her to him. Never an order, never an obligation-- this closeness. Absently, she nods, lets the world move around them until they've found their corner of it to sink into together.

He's right, she's tired.

Hand still tight in his, Ishtar rests her cheek against his shoulder. He is the closest thing in this bunker to being away from it all, his warmth a memory of a hundred places better than this one.

"I'll rest when this is over, when you can too."

#toaepiphany2025 #♡ ˚· (　raven　).#peerlessscowl #facehands.they #the #them.

♡ ˚· @deliverred asked:

Time had passed with a surprising amount of swiftness while left to recover, and Lukas was glad of it when he saw those that had gone up above on their missions slowly begin to trickle back into the fortress. Perhaps it had been the...excitement...of the beast left behind in their care that made time fly. "Here, why don't you take a moment to rest," Lukas calls out to one, offering her the cot he'd been using up until now. It wasn't much, but it was somewhere to sit and recuperate for a moment. "Are you in need of a healer at all? Water, perhaps? I'm sure you've been on the move for quite some time."

She drifts like a soul lost, she feels much like one. When fear and survival become monotony, there is little else to be. Steps hardly touch the ground upon her return, eyes low and mind somewhere else entirely. They hardly think to stop at the man's call, acknowledge it only in passing, and nearly ignore it before she recognizes to whom he speaks.

"Oh, I..."

Instinct would have her deny the offer, but she pauses a moment too long and knows there is no gain in pretending she is anything other than exhausted. Her chin dips in a nod, grateful, and she sets herself gently on its edge.

"I'll be fine, there are others in far greater need," to be off her feet a moment is enough, to remember how it feels to breathe without the pounding of her heart in her throat.

And he should go on his way, perhaps, to give that concern of his to someone more deserving. Ishtar should let him, but she pauses. All these people who have helped her, all these faces she can only hope to see tomorrow...

"But I should thank you, Sir..?" Her head inclines, prompting. She should have a name to remember this kindness for.

#toaepiphany2025 #♡ ˚· (　lukas　).#deliverred #henlo lukasfriend....

♡ ˚· @craneswings asked:

Yuzu’s watchful eye scrolls throughout the entirety of the doomed shelter. Many rush about in a panic - not that the warrior can entirely blame them - while others continue to communicate with their confidants to produce further plans. Perhaps Yuzu should consider doing the same with those few she knows within the hideout…but then her sights catch one isolated person. A young lady, by the looks of it, with light, silvery hair. Her build is far from strong in a literal sense, and yet the air surrounding her feels as if on edge. She stands tall, nearly towering over Yuzu, but the Hoshidan feels the need to approach, and does so without fear. “Pardon…miss?” Yuzu calls to her, well-prepared for her to not even turn around, ending with Yuzu embarrassing herself. “The times are trying, and seeing you stand here had me think…well…” Yuzu reveals a Rabbit Scroll from her person, keeping it slightly together but wide enough for the other to peer at its pages. “These divinations mirror my homeland, yet I lack the skill necessary to make use of them. The rabbit…I believe it is meant to bring forth good luck?” “I’ve no need for fortune. But I would be happy to share it instead, if such suits you.”

Ishtar does turn, slowly and with pale brows softly arched.

"This..."

Curious, what would have made the girl consider her a rightful candidate for such a thing. Of course, magic is best suited for the hands of a mage, and so it is natural that it might fall into hers, but then there must be countless other mages among them.

"Fortune," she echoes, silver eyes flitting over the contents presented to her with an unmistakable, though timid, interest, "these are most unlike anything of my home."

Careful, as though wordlessly asking if it would really be alright, her hands move to accept the scroll. It settles in her palms, the familiar warmth of something other. Before she is relieved for another weapon at her disposal, one more means of continuing on in this fight, Ishtar is merely curious.

And then, as though only just realizing how long she has gone without speaking, her gaze flits sheepishly back to the girl.

"Thank you, I will make great use of it." A dip of her chin, the most reserved of smiles. "I haven't much a need for fortune myself, but... Well, I suppose we could all use some luck."

#toaepiphany2025 #♡ ˚· (　yuzu　).#craneswings

♡ ˚· @luminousrider asked:

"I didn't expect to see you here." Part of her is wary as she approaches the Goddess of Thunder but she is curious about the other woman. Curious as to how she ended up here. In this bunker. In Fódlan. On the same side as her. There isn't trust between them. Altena hopes the way she keeps her eyes locked with Ishtar's lets her know that she is watching. But still... "I'm glad to be on this side of your tome this time."

Of course she didn't.

As if on instinct, Ishtar stiffens. She waits for a threat, for an accusation she cannot deny, for anything. There is cold steel that bites in the other woman's gaze, that says all of these words exist, but none are spoken.

She hides her surprise in a slow, careful nod of her head.

"I can say it is mutual." It makes sense, it is a law of man. An enemy of an enemy is a friend, and with survival in the question, anyone can be your friend. They have enough to be weary about without the fear of a knife in the hand of the other, though Ishtar would understand if Altena's wished to find her throat still.

But, carefully, she opens her mouth once more. Tests that water, in a way she is only just finding the bravery for.

"Admittedly, I prefer this end of your lance."

#toaepiphany2025 #♡ ˚· (　altena　).#luminousrider #I AM SO SORRY THIS FLEW RIGHT UNDER MY RADAR #they are special to me i hope you know this

♡ ˚· @peerlessscowl asked:

There was a moment in time, in those dark caverns, where the black spots in his field of vision widened and yawned and threatened to swallow him whole, just as they had, once before, the feeling visceral and familiar in a way that clenched his guts, the pressure and crack of stone against his chest, surrounded by dank air and panicked breathing as his came ragged and slowed. Or perhaps it was longer than a moment. It had slowed around him, wretchedly, just as it had done all that time ago. He grit his teeth and struggled to keep his feet, knowing that no amount of gritting his teeth and struggling would delay the inevitable should it come for him again. But then the world brightened, and although he saw her clearly, edges outlined in sharp relief from the clamor and noise of the maelstrom she brought with her, the sizzle of ozone lingering along with the blinding radiance of her as she forcibly hauled him from perdition. It was only by her presence at his side that he was standing, regardless of how he tried not to slump his weight on her, bringing a hand up to press against the slick stone of the cavern to steady himself, the shaky fingertips of his other hand raking against the fringe that had fallen into her eyes. There were many things he might have said, be it anyone but she. No apology seemed sufficient for his lack of care, for the failure that he had almost allowed to pass. No thanks profuse enough, nor sincere enough, for what she had offered, not merely to him, but to those under his care of protection. Raven was not a religious man, though he recalled faintly a time when Raymond had been raised pious, on his knees before altar to pray to the saints - for forgiveness, for thanks. "...So this is why you were once called Goddess," is what finally escapes him, soft. Though Ishtar would not have asked for his genuflection, he thought, perhaps, in another instance, in another setting, he might have given it anyway.

And had he thought to apologize, she would have been swift in dismissing even the notion of a need for one. She does not ask what happened, how it had happened, it does not matter. He breathes, and she stands here certain of that.

Despite the moment, despite herself, Ishtar feels her ears turn warm at the remark. It's strange to hear the word in his mouth, once so familiar and now... odd.

"It... yes," she answers slowly, almost sheepishly. Once, it had been a title to set her apart. A demonstration of her strength, her name, her beauty. A declaration that she was no mere girl, that she was more than even the titles carried amongst nobility. To liken oneself to the divine is foolish when you are only human, but Ishtar has never had a chance to be.

And how many have looked to that title and thought only of what they might could do to control it? Were there ever a Goddess meant to worship rather than be worshipped, it would have been she herself.

But he does not look at her as though he is debating what he may gain from a collar around her throat. He is looking at her in a way she has only seen in paintings long destroyed, and it leaves her skin warm where it may have once crawled.

"You needn't call me such," the words come quickly, then, and she shakes her head softly. It is the relief of him being safe, of reuniting with him again, that she blames for the fluttering in her chest.

A pause.

"...unless it suits you."

#toaepiphany2025 #♡ ˚· (　raven　).#peerlessscowl #this was going to be longer before the thread had caught up to this HAHA but. coughs up a lung #what are we.

Not to worry guys I hear that campfires are a great way to deter nighttime predators

Epiphany 2025 - Careful Vigil Team Five (x)(x)

His eyes had almost begun to adjust to the dark. Raven had managed to keep things together up until that point, in spite of the less-than-ideal conditions, and in spite of everything it almost felt for a moment as though the end was in sight.

Until what actually appeared in sight was the stone that had been there all along, something he had not known to pay attention to until it had begun to turn, to shift slowly to face him, and to advance.

The sword hadn't even left his hand from his previous bouts, and neither had his doubts, but he rallied regardless and charged forward, the tip of the blade skimming along the rock-hide, catching the crevasse of a seam which under normal circumstances might have been a crack easy to ignore, but in the here and now engulfed him in the sound of the echoing snap that brought his heart into his gut.

Raven [6/10 HP] barely hits Golem [6/6HP] with Brave Sword [Rolls: 5 - 2 = 3] 2.5 - 2= 0.5, Golem [5.5/6HP] Golem [5.5/6HP] critically hits Raven [6/10HP] with Stone [Roll: 18 - 8 = 10] -5HP, Raven [1/10HP] BRAVE SWORD DURABILITY: 0/20 RAVEN AP 2/3 Brave Sword broke!

No - !

He barely had the time to register that the stone sentinel had begun to pick up its momentum, to come to life in a way at first rigid and clunky, then with more purpose and intent, bringing the section of the cavern where he had ventured down upon his head.

It took the breath from him, at first, gasping and aching and familiar too familiar no no nonononono - ! But the cool damp of the cavern air continued to collect on his cheeks and the walls of his lungs and he still clung to life, saw, vaguely, the blinkering magical light that the greenhorn had brought with her as she placed her body in front of his to shield him from whatever else might have lurked in the cavern.

He didn't want to die here, he realized belatedly, uncertain of the echoing sensation of stone against his chest, feeling the familiarity of the cracking of his ribs before he grit his teeth and forced himself upright, to one knee.

@deamare my savior my light

#toaepiphany2025 #♡ . ┊ 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 — not to worry guys #peerlessscowl #maligknightsthorns #cutestrival #anthieseofvalentia

Be it instinct or guilt, Ishtar turns around.

Cavern walls echo the falling of her footsteps and thrumming of her heart in raucous cacophony with the sounds of fighting just up ahead. She cannot stop to think anything other than how hard it would be-- to return, to find bodies.

Fortunately, they are plenty easy to find alive.

She skids to a halt, hardly a few yards behind two towering, horrid creatures, two women, and-

For a moment, her heart stops.

She is lightning then, indistinguishable from the magic that swells and burns through her veins. Hers are hands untrained in the kinder means of aid, and so they resort to the first lesson they were ever taught.

Resonance activates! Ishtar takes -1HP, Ishtar 6.5/10HP Ishtar [6.5/10HP] misses Beastmaster [4.5/6HP] with Mjolnir [Roll: 2, -0], Beastmaster [4.5/6HP] Beastmaster [4.5/6HP] misses Ishtar [6.5/10HP] with Berserking Whip [Roll: 7 - 2 = 5], Ishtar [6.5/10HP] MJOLNIR DURABILITY: 3/10 ISHTAR AP: 2/3 Resonance activates! Ishtar takes -1HP, Ishtar 5.5/10HP Ishtar [5.5/10HP] hits Beastmaster [4.5/6HP] with Mjolnir [Roll: 9, -3.5], Beastmaster [1/6HP] Lifetaker activates, ishtar heals 1HP, Ishtar 6.5/10HP Beastmaster [1/6HP] hits Ishtar [6.5/10HP] with Berserking Whip [Roll: 9 - 2 = 7], Ishtar [6.5/10HP] Ishtar is affected by Berserk. MJOLNIR DURABILITY: 2/10 ISHTAR AP: 1/3

Bolts of electricity turn endless dark to brilliant white, send sparks scattering this way and that. Ishtar's chest heaves, all exhaustion forgotten for adrenaline. Had it been anything but instinct before, it certainly is not now. Light hasn't even a moment to fade before it's flickering in her palm again.

Resonance activates! Ishtar takes -1HP, Ishtar 5.5/10HP Ishtar [5.5/10HP] is berserked and critically hits Golem [5.5/6HP] with Superior Jolt [Roll: 15 + 4 = 19, -2HP], Golem [3.5/6HP] Lifetaker activates, ishtar heals 1HP, Ishtar 6.5/10HP Golem [3.5/6HP] misses Ishtar [6.5/10HP] with Stone [Roll: 8 - 2 - 4 = 2, -0HP] SUPERIOR JOLT DURABILITY: 10/25 ISHTAR AP: 0/3

Her thunder is the crack of wild magic meeting its target, the sound of stone crumbling where it might have thought to hit her. It snaps her mind back to the moment, sends her stumbling towards him. If her skirt had not been ruined before, there's hope for little else as she sinks to her knees.

Silver eyes flash to the woman before them, to the other some few paces away. "They're weak now," she grits, her throat dry. She'll thank the nearest one later, when they are not in danger so immediate. "Hurry, we mustn't stay here."

And then, without bothering to ensure her order is understood, she's reaching for him. Hands to steady, to help him rise, to reassure herself of his breathing.

"You're alright," she breathes, unsure of whom she's reassuring.

@peerlessscowl to camp with you

♡ ˚· @ulircursed asked:

"You are of Grannvale." More statement than question, and something he had silently suspected for some time. Foreign accents are more difficult to parse in the Fódlanese tongue, but not impossible, and even beyond that, there are always the subtle habits of behavior that marked one's homeland. And so Andrei had been fairly certain that Ishtar, a fellow in the Abyss, in the Ashen Wolves, had been Grannvale nobility, just as he was. That she utilizes thunder magic as a noble had not been immediately unusual. Many of their enlisted had been minor nobles, as he'd learned over the course of fighting alongside them in Isaach. Yet... Look away, Ishtar had said, before unleashing a devastating strike of thunder against their enemies, but in that split second before he had averted his gaze, Andrei had seen the pattern upon her tome. It's a pattern he'd seen only once or twice before, recollection stirring uneasily within the pit of his stomach. "That tome you wield... it is the Holy Weapon of House Friege, is it not?" he asks, voice carefully level, "...Neither of Duke Reptor's daughters had inherited major Thrud blood." Of that, he is certain. News traveled quickly within Grannvale, after all, and the delicate balance of power between the duchies hinged so heavily on the presence of holy blood within each noble house. Yngvi would know. Even if Ishtar were one of the daughters in disguise, it should not be possible for her to wield her family's treasure. "Who are you?"

For how long has she feared that recognition? The question that follows it?

Ishtar's spine stiffens, her skin crawls. She looks at the man from the corner of her eye and forces herself not to flinch or shy away, to remember what is expected of her name from someone who knows it. All of her sin is hers once more.

Only she falters at the name, her grandfather's. Her single scrap of grace is that he does not know her name enough to know whereupon her family tree it falls, what blood stains her branch.

"His son," she answers, "is my father."

And it is strange, the feeling it evokes to admit that after so long. There is guilt, a selfish gratitude for the gaps in knowledge that she might can hide behind. A pride, one branded so deep into her flesh it scars bone, to lay claim to her name. A relief, as wrong as it might be, at being seen.

Silver eyes turn, peer at Andrei. Only after the day that might have marked her fate in a fairer world did she hear about all that had happened where she could not see, where news could not reach, and whispers of a man piece together a thought in her mind before she can shake it away. He had not been there, it could not have been him.

"And yourself?" She prompts, without elaborating further. "Why is it you are so familiar with my bloodline?"

#toaepiphany2025 #♡. — 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 #♡ ˚· (　andrei　).#ulircursed #tenthands...yessssss..................

onward and upward

⚚ [ #TOAEpiphany2025 — Week 1: Combat ] ⚚

ulircursed

The woods are thicker still when they emerge, keeping their surroundings submerged in a murkiness that overtakes natural light. And no sooner had they decided to set up camp at the edge of the forest, than the first warning came.

As before, they spring into action at the sight of the beasts, and Andrei follow the movements of the others, gaze lingering a fraction of a second longer on Ishtar's movements, on the arc of thunder magic dancing and striking at her command.

(A monocled face, a smile that hid a threat. A choice that was never a choice at all. For Yngvi. For Yngvi.)

The next opening spurs him into action, wild thoughts forcibly shoved away to the back of his mind.

ANDREI 9/10HP hits and hits CREST BEAST (AMALGAM) 3.5/6HP with Brave Bow (Roll: 14+4=18, 10+4=14; -4HP, CREST BEAST (AMALGAM) 0/6HP) CREST BEAST (AMALGAM) has been defeated! Andrei 9/10HP has 2/3 AP left. Brave Bow: 4/20. Obligate Heir activates!

A horrid screech assaults his senses the moment the first enemy falls, the shambling shape emerging from the woods more familiar than Andrei would've liked, but he is not worried. His allies' attacks give him plenty of time to maneuver into position, and arrow after arrow fells each in turn.

ANDREI 9/10HP hits and hits HALF-FORMED HORROR 4.5/6HP with Brave Bow (Roll: 3+6=9, 3+6=9; -5HP, HALF-FORMED HORROR 0/6HP) HALF-FORMED HORROR has been defeated! Andrei 9/10HP has 1/3 AP left. Brave Bow: 2/20. Obligate Heir does not activate!

His bow gives an ominous creak with the final attack, and Andrei's movements slow on the follow through, looking down at it in alarm. It's true his weapons have seen better days, given the battle and subsequent hasty retreat from the monastery, but this is worse than he expected, and he isn't even certain there will be a chance in the near future to obtain the resources necessary to fully repair them.

(If he could not, and if he failed to find any replacement in time...)

He couldn't think about that now. Still, when the beating of leathery wings signified the arrival of the next foe, he still swings the newly re-stringed Rienfleche around, notching an arrow.

ANDREI 9/10HP barely hits and auto-crits CREST BEAST (BIRD) 6/6HP with Rienfleche (Roll: 1+4=5, 15+4=19; -8HP, CREST BEAST (BIRD) 0/6HP) CREST BEAST (BIRD) has been defeated! ANDREI 9/10HP takes 2HP damage from Rienfleche’s recoil. ANDREI 7/10HP Andrei 7/10HP has 0/3 AP left. Rienfleche: 4/20. Obligate Heir activates!

The first attack barely grazes its side, but the second hits true, the beast falling to the ground with one last, keening cry. Andrei's shoulder burns with exertion, but he still looks over at their final enemy, a behemoth of stone that seems nearly impenetrable at a glance.

But perhaps it isn't. His allies had defeated one of the same earlier. They had defeated even the Titanus, after all.

"It's the final one here," he calls to the others, "We'll end this, and quickly!"

@championsblade @deamare @cotharach

championsblade

For an enemy of this size, he knows no better weapon. The Champion's Blade had been passed to him to overturn such grand and powerful creatures. He's never seen anything like the majority of what they have fought today before he has come here, but at this point, he is used to encountering the unknown. That had been what setting out had been all about.

So he doesn't balk.

AL 9/10HP hits GOLEM 6/6HP with Champion’s Sword (Roll: 9+1=10, -2 HP, GOLEM 4/6HP) Pursuit activates (Roll: 7)

Bigger, isn't stronger, isn't better. The creature swipes a lumbering and massive arm like a soldier might swipe a lance if it weighed half they did—that is to say, too slow. He hops atop it, jabbing the tip of his blade into a fault line-like joint for purchase until its motion slows. With a swing of his hips, he throws himself up to the base of its broad and sturdy neck. He doesn't know if this thing has a heart, or a throat, or a brain,

but he doesn't know too many creatures that can survive without their head intact.

AL 9/10HP hits GOLEM 4/6HP with Champion’s Sword (Roll: 3+1=4, -2 HP, GOLEM 2/6HP) GOLEM 2/6HP misses AL 9/10HP with Stone (Roll: 1-1=0, -0 HP, AL 9/10HP) AL 9/10HP has 1/3 AP left. Champion’s Sword 2/10. AL 9/10HP hits GOLEM 2/6HP with Champion’s Sword (Roll: 12+1=13, -2 HP, GOLEM 0/6HP) GOLEM has been defeated! AL 9/10HP has 0/3 AP left. Champion’s Sword 1/10.

A hand reaches up in a last-ditch attempt to swat him off. Too slow again. Like a hot knife through butter, the Champion's Blade loses it several digits. It doesn't scream, it doesn't flinch, but it does stall, and that moment is enough. With a rallying cry, the boy brings his sword skyward, then digs it into the base of his foe's skull.

For a moment, nothing happens. Then, with a creaking moan, the colossus buckles beneath him. "Whoa—here it comes!!" He shouts in the closest thing he can manage to a warning as he scrambles to hop off in the right direction. He tumbles onto his side, shoulder-checking loamy dirt. Better than landing on his head, he figures.

He only lays there for a heartbeat before he hoists himself up into a sit, rubbing dirt off his face with a grin.

"Damn right we'll end it quickly," Al comments. Out of the corner of his eye, he swears he sees movement, but when he turns to meet it, nothing. In the opposite direction is bright sunlight at forest's edge. "We're just about there now, yeah?"

"Ah! Are you alright?"

Flayn makes for his side when she sees him fall, though the boy takes it all in stride, a smile streaked across his face as he pulls himself up again. Still, she takes care to memorize the details of his face, keeping in mind his features for when they inevitably find themselves in combat once more.

They don't take too long to do so.

When they emerge into a clearing from the canopy of the forest, two beasts greet them, circling about them like a hungry pack of vultures. Their claws flatten the tall grass thickets as they prowl. There is no doubt that the things they may do to the human body are atrocious. But Flayn has seen these people tear through such foes before—she has every faith that they may do so again.

As they step into the plainlands, she speaks to the blue-haired boy from before, lending him whispered instruction.

"You fight tremendously well, but you are often in dangerous positions when you do so," she can still see some smudges of forest dirt on his face, "I can offer you some leverage of safety. When your foe retaliates from your attack, I shall pull you back using my magic, that you may remain unharmed."

A flash of magic sparks through the air, and Flayn sees the ladymage already within the heart of combat. Her enemy's retaliation lashes across her skin like a magical whip, and the cleric cannot help but call out to her as well.

"Be careful!" Flayn glances at them, "I shall endeavor watch over you both, so please continue to fight with confidence and faith. I only ask that you call for me, that I may know when to help you."

Would that she could save all of them from their pursuers—alas, there is only so much White magic she can wring from her body at a time before it grows deficient in mana and energy. She will not exhaust herself attempting to rescue everyone. Of course, she would still like to return to the monastery. There is an old man who worries for her, and a crumbling Cathedral that she wants to see. So those she can save, she does so with the fullness of her effort. When next the two engage with their foes, Flayn does as she promised, and pulls them from the incoming claws.

@deamare

#toaepiphany2025 #♡ . ┊ 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 — onward and upward #spinnerofhope #ulircursed #championsblade #cotharach

Magic reaches through her very skin and self, another from that endless line of enemies reaching for her. Ishtar's lungs strain, her teeth grit. She commands sparks to her fingertips and shows them their target.

Resonance activates! Ishtar takes -1HP, Ishtar 9/10HP AUTONOMOUS HUSK 6/6HP hits Ishtar with Siphon (Roll: 18+2=20; -2.5 HP, Ishtar 6.5/10HP) AUTONOMOUS HUSK 6/6HP recovers +1 HP (AUTONOMOUS HUSK 6/6HP) Ishtar 6.5/10HP hits AUTONOMOUS HUSK 6/6HP with Superior Jolt (Roll: 4+2+2=8; -1.5+1 = -2.5 HP, AUTONOMOUS HUSK 3.5/6HP) Lifetaker activates! Ishtar heals 1HP, Ishtar 7.5/10HP Ishtar 7.5/10HP has 2/3 AP left. Superior Jolt 12/25.

She's begun to feel it now, the wear of battle. It takes little more than the girl's encouragement, the promise of safety, for Ishtar to swallow the risk of recklessness. They have no option but fight, in any case. She may as well do so for as long as she is protected.

"Thank you," she says, to the girl and all her concern. "You are the most noble of us all."

And it is true, even if that bight-eyed boy certainly makes for tough competition. Ishtar dips her chin, a final expression of gratitude before her eyes alight upon the monster once more.

"Let us finish this now, then," she inhales, narrows her focus on the white heat that crackles through her veins.

Resonance activates! Ishtar takes -1HP, Ishtar 6.5/10HP Rescue activates! Ishtar is protected from the counterattack. Ishtar 6.5/10HP hits AUTONOMOUS HUSK 3.5/6HP with Superior Jolt (Roll: 11+2+2=15; -1.5+1 = -2.5 HP, AUTONOMOUS HUSK 1/6HP) Lifetaker activates! Ishtar heals 1HP, Ishtar 7.5/10HP Ishtar 7.5/10HP has 1/3 AP left. Superior Jolt 11/25.

Lightning cracks at her command, streaks across their battlefield and engulfs its prey. The beast makes a miserable rattling sound, sparks bouncing on its gnarled skin. To the boy, she raises her voice.

"Now then, it's in your hands."

@championsblade bring us home boy!!!

onward and upward

⚚ [ #TOAEpiphany2025 — Week 1: Combat ] ⚚

With little imagination, Flayn can pretend that this battle was no more than an assignment given to her by her professors.

Perhaps this was her heart's way of yearning for the monastery, but Flayn would like to think it's a natural inclination. With each patrol, they grow closer to returning to Garreg Mach—and grow closer to that feeling of normalcy. The terrain shifts to more familiar sights the further they head out, with the front of this cave looking rather similar to the surface of the Oghma mountains. Her teammates, too, bring her relief. The way they spoke, the way they moved, the way they moved into the flow of battle like a river breaking into the sea—it reminds her of the sort of rapport a group of housemates might have after moons of studying.

Caduceus Staff activates! Flayn heals 2HP. Flayn 10/10HP Flayn 10/10HP critically hits CREST BEAST (AMALGAM) 4.5/6HP with Aura (Roll: 19+2=21, -5 HP, CREST BEAST (AMALGAM) 0/6HP) CREST BEAST (AMALGAM) has been defeated! Flayn 10/10HP has 2/3 AP left. Aura 10/20.

This make-believe of hers inspires her magic. When she casts Aura, it rends through the beast's flesh as easily as fingers might pull apart a piece of bread, sending its body toward the ground. Flayn, by instinct, almost wants to ask about her own performance, to seek a compliment or good mark.

But of course, this is only her imagination. However close they may get to Garreg Mach, it will never truly be the same as being there. Reality is too far from that point. The foe that emerges from the shadows serves as her reminder, its whip reflecting dim light off its leather surface. There is real risk here, one that the Knights or their professors cannot save them from. They can only save themselves.

Flayn, sobered from her fantasy, becomes cautious. She sees the ladymage stand within the range of their enemy, and makes the decision to pull her into a better position.

Flayn 10/10HP uses Rescue on Ishtar 10/10HP (Roll: 18) Ishtar 10/10HP is protected from the next two counterattacks! Flayn 10/10HP has 1/3 AP left. Rescue 7/10.

"Please, stay here!" she says, casting a Rescue spell and bringing her to her side. "If you attack from this distance, you shall remain safe."

@deamare