☆ *. FALLEN STAR.

"No matter who or what you really are, I'll always be on your side. You can't count on much in this world, but you can count on that." Claude von Riegan (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Golden Deer Student Closed roleplay blog, TOA affiliated

[failnaughted]

ooc; pinned post

failnaughted - private & closed roleplay blog for Claude von Riegan (FE3H) TOA affiliated penned by Neffi (25+, she/her, CET [UTC+1])

quick links: data page / stats page / thread tracker / writer

Some useful information, details of characterization and rules below the cut.

Characterization

Per TOA rules, my Claude is written as per 3H's Academy Phase. I am open to War Phase-based interactions, but they will always be considered as AUs.

I am aware of the story of Warriors: Three Hopes, but I also consider it to be AU territory for the most part. I'm happy to plot W:3H events that have or haven't taken place for muses from that game for the sake of easier interactions. The only things I've implemented for my Claude's portrayal from Warriors are some vague personality traits and the existence of Shahid.

Claude is a schemer and tactician. He keeps tabs on as many people as he can, is extremely observant and perceptive, and both thinks and knows far more than he lets on. He will make guesses and assumptions about his interaction partner, both right and wrong, sometimes said out loud, other times just in narrative. Obviously, this is not me giving myself an invitation to godmod. Anything he learns or figures out about your muse, especially sensitive information and secrets, will only happen with prior agreement between us, your permission, or by your muse outright telling him or implying it to the point where it becomes a natural conclusion for him to make. Please always communicate with me if I approach or cross your muse's boundary.

On the topic of secrets, Claude is not open about his half-Almyran heritage. He keeps up the story of being "an offshoot of the Alliance" and generally avoids this topic. If you'd like your muse to figure out, please discuss with me first and be prepared that this is not very likely to happen during our muses' first meeting. He might be a bit more willing to talk about it to non-Fódlanese muses, but even then, his trust has to be earned first and that's not very easy. So far, the only person he has told about his heritage is Katarina.

Muse does not equal mun. Claude schemes his way through life, has big trust issues, keeps most people at an arm's length, and while he values his friends, he also looks at everyone as assets and resources. This does not mean that I, his writer, approve of it or think of your muse (or you) the same way.

Mun rules

I am always open to thread plotting and unprompted IC asks. Claude is a House Leader and is always available for both fellow students and faculty for interactions.

I am not open to romantic shipping for Claude. Even setting aside the fact he's a minor, this is just something that I don't enjoy or feel too comfortable writing.

Speaking of Claude being a minor, I will not write sexual NSFW and I do not wish to be exposed to it. Please respect my boundaries, do not approach me with such themes, and mark your NSFW posts as mature content as mandated by TOA rules. I absolutely do not judge you or your muses for engaging in the hanky-panky, I hope you're having a great time! I just don't want to see it.

ALSO speaking of Claude being a minor, I am very uncomfortable with themes of alcohol abuse, with particular emphasis on the events that unfold as a result of a person getting drunk. I don't mind mentions of things like a shared glass of wine or stuff like that, but I'd rather not take things further. In addition, please refrain from making jokes about people (IRL or muses) who don't drink being "cowards" or things like that in my presence. Some of us simply have reasons.

Please inform me if you have any boundaries, triggers or themes that you'd like me to avoid. I will always do my best to adapt and make sure you can be comfortable in my presence.

I use minimal formatting: bold for muse dialogue and bold & cursive for NPC dialogue. I don't use any text colors and while I personally default to small text, I'll generally use the same text size as my partner. If you need normal text size and I'm writing our starter, I'd appreciate a reminder during plotting; but I'll also often ask myself to be sure. I don't mind whatever formatting my partner uses.

Looking forward to interacting and writing with all of you!

[failnaughted]

Activity Check: May 2026

Status: passed

Skill points gained: - Activity (Flying: C+ → C+ ½)

Total: 1; 38 → 39

Obtained: - Ethereal Ball claim pending

[failnaughted]

[ GOSSIP ] - Even covering her ears wouldn't stop senseless rumors about him and the other future heirs of Fodlan's ruling powers from circulating throughout the academy's halls and tonight seems to be no exception. It's no small wonder Claude snuck in late, perhaps hoping to avoid the crowd and guests from afar vying for his favor. At least Sara has no ulterior motive for approaching him.

"A house leader certainly makes events more interesting, doesn't it?" She has had many moons to become acquainted with Edelgard, but a touch of mystery within the smiles Claude throws around generously. "I used to be a Golden Deer before you came here though, so I thought I would introduce myself. My name is Sara."

Glancing at his bouquet, she fetches a lily from her own and offers it as a gesture of goodwill.

"You can have this too, but do be careful. These flowers can be toxic to animals and people."

In all honesty, more often than not, Claude wouldn't go out of his way to avoid large groups of people to such a degree as he does tonight. Heck, there is in fact a small part of him that may or may not regret a little coming down here in the first place. His energy is kinda spent at this point, to the point where the mask struggles to stick to his face enough to hide all that must remain hidden.

Eventually he does manage to find himself a quieter corner to chill with a cup of fresh water as everyone gets absorbed in a new dance. Well, everyone except him and another face that pops up next to him - a lilac-haired young lady with a peculiar aura around her that quickly draws Claude's attention.

She speaks, and it quickly makes sense. Well, part of it anyway. So she's been around the block for quite a while, then. She knows how things are. With that in mind, he lets out a short, a little resigned burst of laughter at her comment.

"Hah, yeah. Whether he wants to or not, I'm afraid. Often, the House Leader is also some kind of big shot from their House's territory, and that means they can breathe in a way someone doesn't like and a storm will brew over it." He shrugs. "But that's just how it is. So you were in the Deer earlier? Nice to meet you. I'm Claude, though you might know that by now."

The flower is accepted with a smile, the remark on it - with an amused chuckle.

"Heh, thanks for the heads up. Will make sure to keep it away from my wyvern, then." Nadia has, of course, eaten worse, but why expose the poor girl to indigestion if it can be avoided. Besides, Claude isn't one to throw well-meant gifts from others at his mount to eat, even ones far less genuine than this one. Detaching an orchid from his own bouquet, he offers it to her in turn. "Here's one from me as well. I hope to see you around, then."

[ulirblood]

how many archer sons can a girl have — claude & edain

toaball2026 — moved from here

[ulirblood]

he's heard of her? it's not like she keeps her past with archery and knighthood a secret.... but she can't help but wonder who he's heard that from. she doesn't get the chance to ask. perhaps later.

"it's true what you have is a little chaotic. perhaps something a little more open and inviting then?" she suggests with a tilt of her head. "warmer colors invite a more calming feeling. and if it were me..." she picks out a few flowers from what he has.

"how about you focus on these? they represent friendship and unity. i can't think of anything else that makes me feel like i have freedom more than that."

[failnaughted]

Claude watches as Edain pulls out a few select flowers, creating a warmer color combination with some less matching tones temporarily moved off to the side. Almost immediately the mosaic, while still maintaining a cheerful vibe, stops looking like someone splashed paint all over it. He smiles.

"That does look more concise, yeah. And still warm, too." With this guidance, he starts arranging the flowers a little more consciously than before. Oookay, this actually kinda makes sense.

"I'll never really be a designer," he muses with a small laugh as he observes his work for a moment, "but once you get the basics and stop trying to do everything at once, it does become easier." He looks up at Edain and grins. "Thanks for the help."

What she mentions at the end does pique his interest a little. "Sounds like you've been through some experiences, huh? I'm not gonna ask if you'd rather I don't. You can also correct me if I'm simply wrong." Not like he's too open about the details of his own past, after all. "I just find that usually, those who value freedom the most are the people who were once at risk of losing it."

[failnaughted]

You're Laughing. We're in Jesus' Tomb and You're Laughing.

#WINNINGSUN || Ethereal Ball 2026

Word Count Challenge: 350

[seawardoath]

What kind of monastery was this place? Illusions, prisons, monsters, and Bernadetta was a rat? Dorothea doesn’t even bat an eye at that part. Ronan frowns, then looks up at the bared fangs of the stone-made monster, which Claude thinks might be some kind of puzzle, like the tree downstairs.

“If Flayn says this place is safe-“ she didn’t, only that this place wasn’t a prison, “—then we shouldn’t be so worried. We’ll find a way out. This can’t be the first time someone’s come in here and had the doors shut on them, right?”

But why was this room charred, like there’d been a fire here not too long ago? Ronan resists the urge to reach up and touch the statue’s wrinkled face, instead turning to examine the rest of the room and the three crates Dorothea pointed out.

“There was a terrible sorcerer from my homeland who could turn living things to stone,” he murmurs, as if speaking too loudly might disturb the creature. “But it could only be reversed by a rare, special spell. Even if this thing was once alive, it isn’t now, and to keep the key to its imprisonment in the same cell would be a fool’s mistake.”

Still, the crates have him curious about if that might be true after all, so he walks over to one to try the lid. It’s neither nailed nor locked shut, but takes both hands and a grunt or two of effort to lift it. With a heavy sigh, Ronan finally slides it aside and peers in. Arranged on a bed of cloth are four different masks - human-like caricatures one might find on stage for a play.

“No statue pieces here,” he says, partly relieved, and lifts one of the masks to show to the rest. If it’s the visage of a saint, he wouldn’t know. “I’m beginning to wonder if this might just be the church’s storage room. What do you think about these, Flayn?" He holds the mask over his face to hide his smile. "How do I look? Am I lead actor material?"

@encantresse @cotharach @hermidetta @failnaughted

[cotharach]

Her endearment is tempered with alarm, for while she is certain Ronan would make for a dashing leading man, the mask he holds up to his face bears an all too familiar mien. 

"You look… so much like Saint Cichol!" She exclaims, moving towards Ronan and bending over to take a peek at the crate. There is no mistaking what she sees inside. Her brows furrow.

"As I suspected, these are the faces of the Four Saints… Indech, Macuil, Cichol, and Cethleann are all here. But they look... strange." She rises to her feet, eyes still locked in on the masks. Their expressions are exaggerated, so unlike the otherworldly stoicism displayed by their statues in the Cathedral—an indication, perhaps, of a less than reverent purpose. Surely these were made in mockery of them? She stares at Cethleann's mask. The plaster is molded into a permanent grin.

Flayn frowns.

"I want to believe our fears are baseless, but I cannot deny the wary feeling I get the longer we stay here. Your tales about the gargoyles and the rats and everything else—" She glances at her fellow Black Eagles, something apologetic in the way her eyes angle downwards, "—are quite concerning. There is also the matter of the heartbeat in the walls… Ah, Claude?" Flayn turns to him, "Was there anything else you felt when you touched the wall? Or perhaps anything you see here that may be connected to it?"

Because she sees nothing yet, but she trusts his intellect, which seems much keener than hers. 

"Perhaps unraveling the mystery behind the tower's pulse is how we can leave."

@failnaughted

[failnaughted]

... Saint Cichol? He supposed, if he squints a little and ignores the grotesque exaggerated expression of the mask, it does bear a resemblance to the Saint statue in the church. Probably. Claude has to admit that he's never attempted to study its face in that great a detail.

Those don't feel like something that would be made for the purposes of worship towards the Four Saints. The opposite, if anything - sarcasm and mockery is what comes to mind instead. Which, if that would be the case, why are those in the monastery at all, let alone in the Goddess Tower of all places? At best Claude would expect something like this to be hidden in one of the many dark corners of the Abyss, not what is supposed to be one of Garreg Mach's most sacred spots.

He shelves the thought for now as Flayn addresses him. "Uh…" Did he actually feel anything aside from instant panic and What The Hell? Actually… maybe he did?

"When there was the beat, I think something flashed before my eyes," he says with a frown, trying to remember. "For a brief moment, it felt like the tree on the lower floor flashed with fire. But I moved away from the wall instantly, and it disappeared, just like that." He strokes his chin in thought. "I could be wrong, but I don't recall any mention of the Goddess Tower catching fire in its history, so why would such a memory exist here?"

Boy does he wish he could ask Rhea about this place. But after the last round of "heretic" executions, ensuring no one ever found out they came here might be their second highest priority ever. First being getting out of here.

"What about the other crates?" He asks, approaching one. Similarly to the one Ronan opened, the lid gives way immediately. Claude reaches in; his hand comes back up with a pile of papers.

"Is that… Sheet music?" He squints, looking up at Dorothea. "You'll probably read this better than me. I don't think any of those are the usual Church hymns?…"

[ulirblood]

how many archer sons can a girl have — claude & edain

toaball2026 — moved from here

[ulirblood]

he seems a little bothered by the fact he's so stuck on this. edain wonders, for a brief moment, if he's used to excelling at anything he trains in. or perhaps he was a perfectionist? she could only guess until she could coax the answer out of him eventually. "it doesn't come naturally to everyone. it took me quite a few lessons when i was a little girl to get the hang of it myself."

she hopes that reassures him a little. "it's nice to finally meet you. she presses her hand to her chest in her own introduction. "my name is edain. i'm a professor for the blue lions, myself."

edain hums, looking at what little of his creation currently exists— that is, the small bunch of flowers he has. "well, let's see. what kind of feeling do you want to convey with this arrangement, claude?"

@failnaughted

[failnaughted]

"Edain, huh? I've heard a little about you," Claude hums, his mind pulling out all Intel and notes it gathers immediately without him even asking. Honestly sometimes he wishes he wasn't as constantly wary as he is, but, well, comes with the territory. "Focused on magic and healing, but I've heard you also know more about archery than an average cleric would." He smiles. "The bow is my specialty, so you'll have to forgive me for being a bit curious about that. Buuut we can talk about that some other time," he adds with a huff.

Sometimes, even he gets a bit tired of his own laser focusing.

At her question, he turns his attention back to the rather haphazard attempt at a bouquet in front of him with a light huff. "I'm... Not sure, actually. I was thinking something about freedom and leisure at first? But that kind of sounds like anything should go and work just fine. Which, it doesn't. I just ended up with disorganized chaos, and that doesn't have to be a part of freedom, does it."

[failnaughted]

[ PHOTO IN MOTION ] - And in addition, this year boasts a similar device bolstered by new advancements that allow it to capture more than just a moment; now, even motion and sound can be immortalized forever. Take a video with a friend—or catch something juicy you’ll want to keep up your sleeve for later.

0 days since last nonsense, huh. Well, he thinks that, but really, this one does seem kinda interesting, actually. Immortalizing not just image, but even a few moments of sound and motion? He could definitely think of a few funny applications of such technology.

Maybe even practical and useful ones, too. Being able to record movement over time would probably make it a lot easier to identify and catch the perpetrators currently sowing chaos in Alliance territory and ruining his otherwise perfectly fine evening. As well as stop the paranoid nobles from pointing fingers at everyone around them with no rhyme and reason.

He drops the thought as quickly as it appeared before his mood can become too sour. It doesn't matter right now; what matters right now is him and the emerald-haired young (?) girl next to him.

(Rhea, Seteth, Flayn, Byleth, and now her... What is it with the monastery and its collection of local greenheads?)

Well, whatever. Turning to her with a grin, he raises his hand next to his head, forming a peace sign with his index and middle fingers.

"Aaalright, and now, cheese!"

Once it's done and the recording is produced for them in two copies, he takes his own with an amused huff.

Ain't like he currently owns the kinda machine that can play this out, huh. He is unsure if she does, either. Smiling, he detaches one orchid from his bouquet and offers it to her.

"Thanks for joining me in the fun!"

[failnaughted]

[ CHAOS ] - A dance that is difficult to define by virtue of its nature as a medley of popular dance moves across history that somehow come together to form an entertaining, if chaotic, whole.

While he considers his skill in dancing to be nothing to scoff at, Claude has never really been one to try and analyze the origins and histories of the various dances. Some he's learned a bit about whether he wanted to or not (the standard Adrestian and Faerghan dances in particular have been rather mercilessly drilled into his head, on top of the most popular Leicester ones), and it's this knowledge that gets him holding back laughter to a degree as he and Leif go through the motion accompanying the currently playing music, ending with a bow towards each other.

"You know, this dance actually has elements of every territory in and near Fodlan, including Sreng, Duscur and even Almyra," he explains with a smile once the music goes quiet, musicians taking a quick break before the next piece. "Allegedly the idea is a prayer of peace and unity between all of the land's nations, or something like that."

The tone of his voice makes it a little difficult to ascertain what he thinks about the idea. One might recognize a faint hint of sarcasm - and yet, feel as though it is not entirely intentional.

A sign, perhaps, of one who doesn't believe in the notion, but wishes he could.

"Well, maybe someday," he sums up the inner conflict in his own way, shrugging with a light smile as he offers Leif an orchid from his bouquet. "In the meantime, let's celebrate with a little exchange between ourselves, shall we?"

[failnaughted]

[ TEA ]

"I see you made it in time," says Sanaki, pouring into his cup and then her own. She need not look at the china, not when she has done this a thousand times before---instead, she peers at the Riegan heir out of the corner of her eye, searching for any outward sign of fatigue or frustration.

She finds none. Good.

The saucer and cup, full with steaming black tea, is offered with an accompanying tulip, wilted at the edges. If Sanaki's practiced smile is a touch sardonic, who's to say? "Good luck out there."

"Heh, barely."

So he says, but even if it's true, he is nevertheless just enough in time to enjoy some good evening tea in the company of a recently made acquaintance - young, and yet showing knowledge and experience beyond her years to a degree that arguably exceeds even his.

Said out loud, it would be a compliment, although one given with a dose of sympathy. You don't grow to be such a person if you don't have it rough in life.

He accepts the cup offered to him; Sanaki's smile is returned in kind, for Claude is well familiar with this species of expressions in particular. A tulip rests on the edge of his saucer; a small orchid is placed on hers.

"Thanks. I'm gonna need it. You know how it is with nobles and ludicrous paperwork." He has a good feeling that he can mean what he says absolutely literally. "But I've got it. In the meantime, here's to a pleasant evening."

[ulirblood]

[ FLOWER ARRANGEMENT ] - No matter how many flowers you gather, your bouquet won’t look its best unless you have the skill to make it so. A couple of students have taken upon itself to imbue their peers with the knowledge of flower language and the art of flower arrangement, and as a result the garden has become something of a workshop.

she notices him in the corner of the garden, away from the rest of the students fussing about their bouquets.

she might not be in the house that he leads, but she recognizes him. a child with the undoubtedly important position of a leader in his future.

maybe that's why she ignores the other students for a bit and approaches him.

"you've been staring at these flowers for a while." she smiles kindly, tilting her head. "is there something on your mind? perhaps having some trouble picking out which flowers to include for your arrangement?" she hopes it's something lighthearted like that and not something serious plaguing his mind— but she'd be there for him where she could be either way.

[failnaughted]

"Mm? Oh, good evening." Someone actually approaching him without him noticing? He must be even more tired than he thought. Or maybe it's the lady that has this particular, calm air about her that didn't trigger the alarms in his usually wary mind at all.

Whatever the case may be, he finds himself caught off-guard by the conversation starter, and offers the blonde lady a light, sheepish smile as he looks up at her.

"I, uh, guess so? I've got a few notable talents, but flower arrangement really isn't one of them." A faint chuckle follows behind his slightly resigned shake of head. "I've picked up a few different flowers, but something keeps bothering me about the color scheme." Pausing for a moment, he eventually shrugs. "It's a little weird. I've never been bothered by such things." Haven't had a chance to. Was a little busy trying not to die.

The last part left unspoken, he glances at the flowers strewn before him, then back up at Edain. "Have you done something like this before? Oh, and um. I'm Claude, leader of the Golden Deer. Figured I should introduce myself, haha."

[failnaughted]

[ SNEAK ] - The Goddess Tower was a no-go before, but with flashy distractions at a high and visibility at a low, now is a better opportunity than you will get the rest of the night. The monastery staff have promised a very unforgiving punishment for those caught in forbidden grounds, but that only goes for those caught, right?

"Well, here we are, the Goddess Tower. Shh..."

Truth be told, Claude has no idea why the Church and the Knights are so adamant about handing out punishments for visiting the Goddess Tower. Sure, sacred grounds this, risk for destruction of property that, he gets it, he got it before it was repeated seventeen times; he can understand some restrictions, maybe students should only visit under supervision, but a full on ban on something closely connected to a beloved belief and tradition? Come on, how boring can you get?

Oh well. Any crime is only a crime if you get caught. Yes, he said it, yes, he's a a noble and the future Alliance leader, why do you ask.

"The patrol shouldn't be back for a while." Claude looks up at the moon, ever bright in the sky, before turning back to her. "Y'know, they say that if a man and a woman come to the Goddess Tower during the Ethereal Moon and make a wish, it'll come true. I've even heard some success stories related to this tale. Why not give it a try? Oh, and," he detaches an orchid from his bouquet, handing it to her with a smile. "Let's make an exchange while we're at it, too."

[failnaughted]

[ STEAL ] - Purposeful or not, it looks like you’ve gotten your hands on something that isn’t yours. You may want to return that before anyone notices. Or you may want to start running.

Honestly, under normal circumstances, Claude would be all for some joking around and tomfoolery. Including but not limited to taking a temporarily left unattended bouquet "hostage" and making four or five light-hearted japes just to test Edelgard's patience a little before finally returning it to her, one orchid short.

Today, however, the Deer finds himself a little too tired to even try and lift his spirits by getting on the esteemed princess' nerves, which is really saying something. He does still, however, try to look relatively normal as he comes closer to Edelgard (who, he has to admit, looks positively sparkling tonight) with her bouquet in his hand.

"Hey, were you looking for this? I accidentally picked it up instead of mine earlier when the lights were off, sorry. Mind if I keep one, by the way?" He shoots her a light wink. "And you can keep one of mine, of course."

[failnaughted]

[ SLIP-UP ] - As it turns out, a lot of people at the monastery make for great body doubles in the dark. What do you do when you slap a friend on the back only for you to find out when they turn around that it’s not your friend at all?

Hey, who the heck turned out the lights? Okay. Well. He knows the actual answer is "the organizers" and it was actually done on purpose this time, but why now of all times?

Eyes tired from staring at papers upon papers for hours on end struggle to adjust to the abrupt change in lighting. Last he looked, even proper words like "Alliance", "assassin" and "concern" barely made sense anymore after how many times he'd had to read them. This was not helping in his search for sensible and recognizable things to anchor his hopes on to.

Still, he believes he sees the back of a Housemate juuust ahead of him, and presses on, clapping his hand on the person's back just as he reaches them.

"Heeey, good evening! How have you—"

And then he stops. Hold on a second, they're a little shorter than he remembers. And the shade of hair is not quuiiite right, either, is it? He can barely see, but now that he's close—

Wait, isn't that the girl from the Eagles that hides all the time?

Well uh.

"Oops, sorry, haha, mistook you for someone else. Ahem." This is awkward. If he squints, he can almost see a little arrow above her head pointing downwards as a funny disappointment jingle plays in his mind. Welp. Smiling sheepishly, he detaches one orchid from his bouquet, offering it to her. "Apology?"

[failnaughted]

You're Laughing. We're in Jesus' Tomb and You're Laughing.

#WINNINGSUN || Ethereal Ball 2026

Word Count Challenge: 350

[hermidetta]

the walls are BEATING?! bernadetta thinks she hears herself squawk somewhere in the midst of everything. oh, goddess above in her tower, why are the walls beating?

well. at least claude told them. he could have just NOT TOLD THEM.

still, between that, flayn’s reassurances and dorothea’s yelp, bernadetta’s nerves are bobbing up and down. it isn’t until ronan remarks on the scenery that they slow enough for bernadetta to really start looking, too. the rich reds and mahogany browns, the fallen leaves—never mind their newfound elevation that’s foiled her plans to jump down.

“this place sort of looks like if you took autumn and made it into a room.” gloved hand unconsciously returning the squeeze of flayn’s, bernadetta blinks around some more. “huh…”

wandering within arm’s length, she pauses when her foot hits something that feels like a rock. maybe she should’ve taken a torch to occupy her other hand after all, because without even thinking about it, she bends down to pick it up. a bear statue…? it’s honestly sort of cute. something like a decorative paperweight, and it doesn’t feel any different from a regular rock or statuette in the palm of her hand.

berndetta’s eyes return to where she’d found it, drifting aimlessly until they catch the prongs of a dusty ladder. a gentle tug to flayn.

“i-is that another door? are we supposed to just keep going up, or...?” the longer they stand here in uncertainty, the less keen she is on the idea of splitting up anyway. “a-and if this is another prison... where do you think the prisoners are?”

@cotharach / @failnaughted / @encantresse

[cotharach]

"It is not a prison!" Flayn says, scandalized, "The Goddess Tower is a place for love and promise!"

At least, that is what she knows. She realizes now that there are a great many things she has yet to know about the monastery. The nature of this whole room and its statue tree and tall balcony and beating walls is a mystery. But what knowledge lacks, faith is sure to supply—she maintains her belief that there can be nothing bad in a tower made for the benevolent goddess!

"In any case, I believe going up may be our best option, that we may learn more about our strange situation. Ah, Ronan?" She calls the young knight, who seems infatuated with the balcony view—a fact that makes Flayn just a bit upset. Would that he could look at her like that…! She points at the torch he holds, "Could you lead our ascent once again?"

They climb up, the way lit by Ronan. Their steps ringing like chimes against the metal rungs of the ladder. The trapdoor is pushed open, leading to yet another room. This one has scattered papers all over the floor, greeting their feet as they walk. Further in, a shadowy figure stands at the center.

"Ah!" She clings onto Bernadetta, "Oh?"

The fear gives way to confusion, for what she had mistaken for some sort of beast turns out to merely be a statue, though that is not to say it is any less discomforting. The effigy is of some hideous creature perched atop a stone pedestal. Closer inspection reveals two stumps by the shoulder blades, the edges cracked and jagged as though something had been broken off it. Wings, perhaps? Flayn hums.

"There seems to be another statue that is missing something…" She taps her finger on her chin, "Whatever could that mean?"

@failnaughted @encantresse @seawardoath

[failnaughted]

So it has been roughly two minutes since he advised against splitting up, and here they go, part of the group moving ahead on their own while others seem hesitant to follow. Great.

Oh well, what can you do. Brushing off Flayn's outraged remark in response to the others' prison comments, neither of which can be either confirmed or debunked here and now by one who possesses none of their imagination or her idealism, Claude glances behind his shoulder at Dorothea, shrugging lightly in what seems like defeat.

"Well, as I was saying about how it's best not to separate…" He sighs, then shakes his head. "I think we should follow them. We probably won't find much anyway if we'd rather not touch things, and I have to say that after that wall, I'm a little hesitant."

Upwards they go then, the torchlights providing worthwhile guidance along the way. (Maybe the first time in Claude's life when he wishes he knew a spell.) His head pokes through the trapdoor just in time to witness Flayn discover the peculiar statue. He muses to himself on the final steps up, thinking.

"Funny," he hums. "Dead in the center of the room, begging to be seen immediately upon entrace. Just like that tree, too… And just like the tree, missing parts of itself. Is there some puzzle going on or something? Can we find the pieces that had been broken off somewhere around here?" A quick look around the room just by turning around gives no results, but it's not like he's giving it a proper and honest try. What it does reveal to him is the nature of the area, a little different than the floor beneath; where that one had more of an aura reminiscent of the warm autumn sunsets, this one almost looks like it'd taken the idea to the extreme. The walls are damaged, as though someone had tried to burn them, the same applying for some objects in the area.

What's with that, anyway?… It's the Ethereal Moon. Bit late for autumn imagery…

@encantresse

[failnaughted]

You're Laughing. We're in Jesus' Tomb and You're Laughing.

#WINNINGSUN || Ethereal Ball 2026

Word Count Challenge: 350

[seawardoath]

“Knocking the door off its hinges would still get us out.”

Maybe they’d be fast enough to slip out before anything collapsed on them. But the way Dorothea adds on her warning, hurried, like she doesn’t want the rest of them to take her suggestion for a serious one, sounds like it’d be worse for them than it sounds.

“But this place is pretty important to the church, isn’t it? It would be best if we don’t damage it unless we have to.”

So Ronan just takes one of the two torches she’s pulled down from the wall and starts for the bottom of the stairs that spiral up into the darkness. The timid one with the purple hair stammering on about ghosts and monsters stops his foot on the second step though and he studies the thick blackness beyond the flickering realm of his flame.

“This tower might be out of the way, but it’s still pretty close to the rest of the monastery. Monsters here would pose a threat to everyone else, not just us.”

So there probably aren’t any. He tries to sound confident, and maybe if it were the middle of the day, he’d be as confident as he sounds. But a draft blows cool air down the stairwell, and along with it, the soft tinkling of wind chimes, and raises the hair on the back of his neck. He glances back curiously to see if anyone else had heard it, too. When his eye catches Flayn’s, he takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders.

“... Up, then. I’ll lead the way.”

The narrow stairwell spirals nearly a full circle to the next floor, the chimes growing louder the higher they go. A shut door awaits them at the top, but Ronan tries its handle - it’s in good condition, he notices, and that’s a heartening detail; it means someone takes care of this place - and the door swings open without resistance.

@cotharach @failnaughted @encantresse @hermidetta

[cotharach]

"Fret not, Bernadetta, there won't be any ghosts or monsters in this tower. We are under the protection of the Goddess! Now come on, let's not tarry." She takes Bernadetta's hand and ascends alongside the rest of them. When Ronan glances towards her, she smiles, "Thank you for leading, Ronan."

The door creaks open. The room they enter is far larger than it has any right being. The ceiling is high and mighty, and the west walls open up to a balcony that Flayn can't recall ever seeing. The chimes they heard as they were ascending grow a touch bit louder, its aimless clinking now shifting into something more melodic. A statue of a tree, with branches that outstretched magnificently yet are stripped of any sort of foliage, stands in the center of the room.

"What would a tree be doing here…?" 

Flayn is tempted to move past Ronan and check it out herself, but her senses return to her. It would be wise not to touch anything they did not know much about. So instead, Flayn inches over to the balcony, moving just enough to be able to peer through the opening whilst keeping Bernadetta close. From what she can tell, there is a forest below—that makes sense, as Garreg Mach was surrounded by the woods of Oghma Mountain—but the treetops stand surprisingly low, most of them engulfed in fog and shadow, while the taller ones grow sparser the closer the make it to the balcony. If they threw a rock down, it would take some time before it hit the ground.

Her hand grips Bernadetta's just a bit tighter.

"This feels strange," Flayn turns to all of them, brows tightly furrowed, "I don't think this is in the tower normally. Perhaps we have entered some sort of hidden floor of the Goddess Tower, a space that is much further up than people usually access."

That is the best explanation she can offer right now, though it does not quite address every misaligned detail.

"Either way, we ought to investigate. Though it is rather dark... What else can you all see?"

@failnaughted @encantresse @hermidetta

[failnaughted]

Oh, great. You're telling him this whole thing is even more abnormal than usual? Because sure, his mind might supply some sufficient enough explanations for the jammed door and some sights that not even Flayn is familiar with, but a tree inside the Goddess Tower is pushing it a little bit.

Claude stops for a moment, examining the plant. It stands before them, its branches devoid of all foliage. Red leaves are strewn all over the floor, and it makes him pause and frown. The tree doesn't look dead, and there shouldn't be any wind coming in strong enough to tear the leaves all clean off like that (then again, there shouldn't be a tree here in the first place, but let's ignore that detail for now), so… What exactly happened to it?

He shelves the thought for the time being, turning his attention back to Flayn instead. "Much further up… Did we not enter through the usual door? I don't think we've been walking for that long." Still, none of this explains what he sees as he glances out of the balcony beside Flayn and Bernadetta. That… really is high up.

… Shouldn't the town be visible from that side instead?

"There's something weird about this space," he observes out loud, looking at the others. "Best if we don't separate unless absolutely necessary. We might not find each other again."

With that in mind, he moves away from the balcony, intent on checking what other hints he can still find in the immediate area. On his way, he brushes past the wall -

and suddenly jumps with a gasp that not even his usually forcefully stoic self can hold back.

"Ummm, why is there some kind of… Heartbeat or something in this wall??"

[failnaughted]

Arriving as late as he was, Claude expected that the fun would be slowly wrapping up by now. But nope - the moment he opened the door, he was met with energetic music, cheer and laughter from all directions, and celebrations that showed no sign of slowing down at all.

It would seem he was the only one tired around here right now.

Smiling lightly, he accepted the bouquet of orchids from the attendant at the door - everyone seemed to have some sort of bouquet, so that seemed to be the theme this time around - and walked in.

---

OOC: Claude's at the ball! I originally thought I was going to sit out this year, between wrapping up job stuff and health stuff, and being in a bit of a weird brain space that made me a bit less social than usual. But with all three matters settled now, I figured I'd let him have some fun.

IC explanation for Claude's absence is some diplomatic chaos ensuing from the currently ongoing situation in the Alliance. Claude found himself buried in letters and reports, and had little time and energy to check out the fun. He's still a little tired, but he finally found the opportunity to come to the ballroom.

Feel free to send asks without any additional setup or context, regardless of whether or not your muse knows Claude! I wanna play around with those a little, I think it's a cool idea. I will also default to sending asks without attached context unless stated otherwise on the TOA bloom spreadsheet.

---

Claude's Bloom: Orchids

Bloom Tracker:

Rose: Laslow, Eirika, Eliwood

Orchid: Bernadetta, Edelgard, Sothis

Lily: Leif, Sara, Mitama

Hyacinth: Estel

Tulip: Sanaki

[failnaughted]

You're Laughing. We're in Jesus' Tomb and You're Laughing.

#WINNINGSUN || Ethereal Ball 2026

Word Count Challenge: 350

[failnaughted]

Well, that escalated quickly, didn't it.

Claude's only intention was to pay a quick visit to the Ethereal Ball, and see how everyone else was doing. Having gotten stuck dealing with a small mountain of papers in his room, courtesy of the currently ongoing Alliance Situation and grandpops responding to it by falling sick again and leaving it all to him, he found himself with too little time to participate in person. Frankly, his energy was mostly spent at this point, too. The whole nonsense was pushing his people skills to their limits and at least a part of him really wanted to just lie down in the dirt and stay there.

Alas, not everyone was allowed such luxury.

Not that any of that mattered in this particular scenario, because, well,

"Not to ruin the mood, but the door won't open."

The doorknob, previously perfectly functional, suddenly refused to budge, as if it had been abruptly jammed. Frowning, Claude leaned against the door with his entire body weight, grunting as he tried to force his way through. He didn't have much hope in that to begin with - he wasn't exactly the strongest person around - and, well, the result was exactly that.

"Strange. It doesn't even feel like just the doorknob," he noted, turning to the others and shrugging. "The entire door doesn't move even an inch, no matter what I do…"

Well. It would seem that Count Gloucester would have to wait for his highly anticipated letter a little longer than planned. Oooh nooo.

Anyway.

"Any ideas? Unless someone else has more luck with the door than I do, then we might just have to try and find another exit." Thinking, Claude glanced at Flayn more attentively. "You've lived here longer than any of us, right? Do you know if there's another door somewhere that we can use?"

Surely even the most ancient and mysterious pieces of Fódlan architecture took at least some practical use into consideration in the planning phase, right?

@cotharach @encantresse @seawardoath @hermidetta