Lloyd Reed

TOA Affiliated RP Blog || Knight of Seiros

[fangedjustice]

Currently not a part of TOA!

[fangedjustice]

It's always a bit of an antsy thing, taking your own advice as a cleric; Maria pestles the dirt with the toe of her boot as a healer attends to her, waiting patiently to be seen before she may in turn see to others.

Once she is free, however, she holds a hand to her brow, scanning the crowd for the man she'd fought alongside before. Most of the faces there had been familiar, but his was not -- and they had been teammates! Wasn't that something that she needed to fix, then?

"Oh!" She beams when she spots him, trotting over with a happy wave. "There you are! Hello, Mister!"

Both hands dart up beside her cheeks, fingers splayed and wiggly (a demonstration of wellness, you see). Letting her hands fall down to her sides, she continues: "I didn't get to introduce myself earlier! And we're teammates, so I wanted to fix it. My name is Maria. It's really nice to meet you!"

"Have you seen a healer yet? Because if you haven't--" Turning up a palm, she conjures a faint glitter of light, then brushes it away and holds a finger to her lips. "--hee hee! Then now you have!"

Having slipped our of one of the medical tents after a less than desirable interaction with another knight, so Lloyd had yet to be properly seen by a healer. He wasn't too bad off, and tending to himself was something he'd grown rather used to over the years, but he's stopped by a young voice before he can find himself a quiet place to rest.

"Ah, I'm glad to see you're well after that fight," he chuckles, watching Maria's cheerful display. Really, having such an attitude in even a mock fight like this was a balm. "You really were a help, and I must say, I'm impressed. You've a stalwart heart to go with that kind spirit, lass."

She had, after all, faced off against worthy foes and she had not flinched.

"It's a pleasure to meet you properly, Maria, I'm Lloyd." This is one of the few instances where he doesn't feel some sort of hesitation giving his name to another. Despite the sudden sparkle of light, it's a comfort more than a change he feels he should squint his eyes against, and the relief it brings to his wounds is almost instantaneous.

"Thank you," he sighs in relief, stretching a little to relish in the feel of no pain or uncomfortable tweaks in his body. "If you're ever in need, please, never hesitate to call on me. It would be my honor to return the favor."

[wingboundwarrior]

Used to the Darkness

[wingboundwarrior]

He really does hate her, doesn’t he? She looks up at him, towering over her seated position, listening to the way he grits out his words. She wonders what it is about her that makes him hate her. That she speaks the truth? That she is different than him? That they share similarities? There’s something neither of them are saying. Maybe apathy is making her clear-minded enough to see that. But she still cannot find out what it is. Oh, well. Maybe she hates him too, any other day.

Eyes met, he delivers what should be a blow — but it is the answer, she thinks, she wanted. “Good,” she says. She stands up with him, eyes never leaving his face as she does. “I will count on you for that, then.”

If she doesn’t get better... if she doesn’t find out what is wrong with her... then perhaps, he will do her a favor.

He just said it was his duty, after all.

Silently, she heads to the mouth of the tent. “I will take care of Limstella,” she promises, behind her back. That seems to be her entire response to his taunt about her confirming the kill. She looks back at him one final time, a darkness in her eyes reminiscent of the depths of a lake, inscrutable and deep, before she turns to leave.

[fangedjustice]

“I will count on you for that, then.”

It feels like he's agreed to something unknowingly when she says this, and Lloyd can't say he enjoys the feeling. Agreements, promises, contracts -- they aren't things Lloyd makes or takes lightly. So to feel as if he is now...tied up with this woman through words against his own wants -- dislike each other as they did, he was content to simply go his own way and leave her to hers -- it was not how he would have cared to leave this.

But, if a promise to kill one of those things -- no matter whose face it wore -- was what she wanted, it was one he could settle with. It was at least one thing they could agree on: Nergal's creations could not be allowed to survive him.

She says she will take care of it, and perhaps he should believe her when their eyes meet. But he sees nothing there, and where there is no spark, there is nothing to keep alive. She could very well kill the morph, but if she has no desire to live, then there's nothing stopping this from being a suicide mission.

"I'll see if you do," Lloyd remarked, tone neutral as he watched the knight leave the tent.

If she accomplished her goal, then they both had one less old enemy to worry about. If she failed, he would have to finish the job.

With so many to worry about, the healers didn't notice that two of their patience had slipped out until it was far too late to stop them.

[ END ]

[wingboundwarrior]

Used to the Darkness

[wingboundwarrior]

It appeared what she said had deeply affected him. One of her eyes slowly opens to glance at him — and his face is twisted in some sort of righteous fury. Interesting. He thinks that to be an insult? But it’s just the truth, isn’t it? He let those things happen while under his command. Perhaps he’s remorseful for it, just as she’s remorseful for the death of those she loved… 

She closes her eyes again. She feels impermeable — as if even if he struck her, she would not be able to feel it. As if none of this world around her is real. 

But that doesn’t absolve her of her responsibility. Nothing will. 

“Everyone deserves the opportunity to answer honestly.” And, besides, who would she be if she did not give it? Certainly not an honorable individual. And, anyway… I believe you, for what it’s worth, she adds, in her head. But it would be worth nothing, so she sees no reason to tell him that. 

In the strange daze of apathy, she stretches a wrist out — tries to ease the tension, the pain, that’s always sharp, biting away at her. Usually she only does such exercises in private, but it seems she cares not if she’s even observed by him, now. “Not particularly. It isn’t rather reassuring to be told that at the same moment they look for a new prospect for studying quintessence. Besides, if they live, how do we know that Nergal does not live? And even if Nergal does not live, it does not mean they have ceased their duty.” She switches to her other wrist. “Their interest in the person I was fighting with proves that they haven’t. It seems even morphs follow through on a mission they’ve accepted.” 

A rule she lives by, too. Unnerving to think she has anything in common with Limstella. But these days… that isn’t the only thing. 

Slowly, with the precise sharpness but distance of a tired feline, Fiora opens her eyes and sets her gaze on Lloyd again. She wants to see his reaction for this. “Lloyd… would you kill a morph, if they appeared, no matter who they were?” 

[fangedjustice]

Saints above, this woman truly did think she held some sort of higher ground any time they interacted. Yes, the way she was talking and acting was markedly different than the times before that they had clashed, but it all seemed to come back to the same thing.

To her, he was nothing but a murderous dog, and she was naught but a victim to the jaws of the Fang.

As if she were not also a mercenary, as if she had not also claimed lives in exchange for coin. As if, had he known what exactly had been going on within the Fang because of Sonia and Nergal, he would have gone along with it merrily.

As if whatever dark powers they had possessed were so easy to see through and shake off.

It was an insult not only to himself, but to his father and all who had once lived among the Fang. And she cared not. She was only wrapped up in herself and her losses, and what she had not been able to do to save her own. Lloyd can't entirely begrudge her the process, for he had been in her shoes not that long ago. But he had not felt the need to insult those he did not know the circumstances of.

"How generous of you."

Her movement catches his attention, but as he watches, he realizes it is simply a stretch to ease herself in some way and so he shakes his head and makes to stand.

"You mean you didn't confirm your kill?" he asks, arms crossed and not bothering to look her way when he knows all he'll see is the dullness of someone who has lost the spark to live for themselves. "It was your group that fought him to the last, was it not? If you did not complete the job, that seems like an issue you should be more concerned about rectifying."

Had he not been grievously wounded, he may have even been among their ranks at that final battle. But that had apparently not been his part to play in the story, and he could accept such a thing.

The question pulls his attention back to Fiora, and his gaze doesn't waver from hers as he responds, "It would be my duty to dispatch them." He'd been too late to catch on to what was going on before, if faced with it again, he would not make the same mistake of allowing it to fester.

[wingboundwarrior]

Used to the Darkness

[wingboundwarrior]

@fangedjustice, from here:

Lloyd had seen her as soon as he'd stepped into this particular medical tent, but before he could turn around to be treated at a different one, one of the healers had bustled over and herded him further into the tent. His wounds weren't terribly complicated to deal with, so he didn't protest; figuring he would be in and out before either of them could bother one another. That was not the case. As soon as they almost got passed where Fiora was sat, several more defeated combatants flooded into the tent, and the healer was fussing him down next to the despondent knight before hurrying off to get the newcomers situated. It was awkward, to say the least. Fiora even tries to leave after things seem to get mostly settled, though it's clear she's yet to be tended to fully and the healers are quick to deny her request -- and physically push her back into her seat, which ends up with the somehow even more stiflingly awkward result of them bumping into each other and having to pretend like it didn't happen. Like children. Lloyd was almost about to address that issue -- because, really, they should both be able to be adults about this -- when Fiora comes out of the blue with a question that sets ice down his spine. "...No," he answers honestly, breathlessly, "You think I would leave one of that man's--" He cuts himself off, shifting away from Fiora and casting a quick glance about the tent. No one is paying them any mind, and he recognizes none of them. "If I'd had knowledge of them being here, do you truly think I would be content to live without knowing their purpose?" He'd barely survived the only encounter they'd had back in Elibe, and he was hardly comfortable with the knowledge of them being not only here in Fódlan, but at Garreg Mach.

Fiora’s legs cross underneath her, revealing the tiny shorts beneath her short dress, and she rests her chin on a fist, elbow propped on a knee, as she watched the elder Reed. Didn’t the sight of him used to bring her blood to a boil? She used to barely be able to look at him without seeing red, the twisted faces of her fallen friends. Now she sees the exhaustion under his eyes, the scruff on his chin, the hazel color of his eyes, the pale pallor suddenly in his cheeks. Hmm... is he afraid of Limstella?

It doesn’t matter to her either way. She closes her eyes, detached, empty, far away from the shell that is her, from the body that is sitting here, from Lloyd Reed, this med tent, from any of it.

“How should I know?” she answers, flatly, in return for his breathless voice. “I know nothing about you, other than the fact that you are content killing innocents. Why should your honor start anywhere else?”

The words should have bite in them. It seems, though... that she’s just stating a fact. Not arguing — just giving her viewpoint.

“Even if you did know they lived, I hardly expect you to report it back to me. You could already know their purpose and just have kept the knowledge for yourself.”

His reaction seems genuine, though. He truly seems startled. Unless he’s an actor...

“They told me I wasn’t their enemy,” she recalls, eyes still closed, body so numb that she can’t feel the majority of it. “That it was just coincidence we ended on opposite teams, and they were not seeking a rivalry against me. Then, in the same breath drawn, said they wanted to study the quintessence of one of the childr— ah, girls I was fighting with.”

[fangedjustice]

There isn't the same bite or disgust in her tone as he recalled from the last butting of heads they'd had, and Lloyd can't help but shoot her a somewhat baffled look. Her expression is...well, lacking. Similar to her tone of voice, there is little emotion on her face.

If he were friends with the woman, perhaps he'd be more concerned.

But, odd behavior or not, she was still somehow managing to insult him and his honor.

He scowls at her, squaring himself off in his body language. "Then why did you bother asking me? If I'm such a reprehensible scoundrel, such a dishonorable villain, why would you trust me to speak any sort of truth to a question you asked?" He wasn't lying, but regardless of what he said and how he delivered it, Lloyd doubted she would believe him -- even if it was only out of spite.

There's a cold bite to his own voice when he speaks next. "You're right. You know nothing about me, so don't speak as if you do."

Content killing innocents. She truly knew nothing beyond her own grief and regret if she believed that. It was honestly becoming difficult to believe she lived as a mercenary of Ilia at this point if she saw him in such a light. Much as he didn't like her, he wasn't so in denial of their similarities as she so clearly was.

"And you trust that?" Lloyd asked, letting his gaze slide away from her to cast about for one of the healers. He wasn't so terribly wounded, if he could just get looked at quickly, he could leave this entire situation and Fiora's insults.

[fangedjustice]

March Activity Check

Status: Passed

Total Skill Points: 44 → 47 Monthly Activity SP Earned: 1 Event Activity SP Earned: 1 Other SP Earned: Dropped +1 to Bow Thread Completion SP Earned: --

Invested SP:

+1 to Bow E+ → Bow D (1/1) +1 to Axe C+ → Axe C+ (2/2) +1 to Authority C+ → C+ (2/2)

Accessed Classes: --

Mastered Classes: --

[wingboundwarrior]

And, of course, he doesn’t listen to her.

Fiora opens her mouth to say— well, something, but — she finds herself gasping instead. The searing pain against her shaking limb and the heavy dizziness over her head make it so hard to breathe, so hard to think, so hard to—...

She shakes her head, tries to center herself to the pulsing pain. Stay awake. Stay awake. Stay awake.

She has to focus on something. But there’s nothing to focus on, here. There’s no battle — just a man she hates, falling to her side. She doesn’t want to focus on him, lest she do something she’d regret, but any other thought is awash in agony...

“A— Ah!” Fiora jolts away as he tries to maneuver against her arm — not, this time, out of malice, but pure pain. It matters not. His strength is better than hers, now that she’s injured so — he can grab her and bandage her as he pleases. What’s he using? Is it dirty? Yes, focus on that. He’s probably using something horrible and tattered, she’ll get infected, and then she really will kill him, no matter what the monastery wants of her, she really will...

Then he deigns to ask her the stupidest question that exists. She gapes at him, for a moment, before spluttering, “Your brothers— wouldn’t have— killed my sisters, if I— were.”

In fact... what is it he’s doing? Is he... undressing? “Wh— what are you— d-doing?” Instinct tells her to kick him, but dizziness stops her from doing so immediately. “Don’t...” A shaking hand goes to her arm, lightly scratching at knot of whatever he’s tied there. “I have— medical supplies— in my bag. Please don’t— use your clothes.”

[fangedjustice]

She tries to move away from him as he addresses her wound, but he has the advantage of strength right now, and he doesn't leave her go until he's gotten the sash tied to give them a bit of time to work with. It's then that she throws several things at him at once, and Lloyd stalls for a beat as he processes just what she's said.

"Your brothers-- wouldn't have-- killed my sisters, if I-- were."

It's a very specific way to say such a thing. Lloyd only had the one brother, so brothers was certainly in reference to those that had fought alongside him in the Black Fang. And, if that were the case, sisters did not necessarily imply a familial connection so much as comrades in arms.

There was only one group that he knew of that used such terms for their warriors: Ilia's pegasus knights.

If that was true, and she knew of him enough to match a face to a name, then there was only one way he could place her. He'd not been the one to receive the order, nor the one to clash with that wing of pegasus knights, but he'd been aware of it all the same. What he hadn't known was that one had survived the hunt.

Blood on his hands, he goes for her bag to retrieve what supplies she does have.

"...Are you attempting to claim some sort of moral high ground?" he asks, sifting through several pouches of herbs he doesn't have the faintest clue about before finding a far more familiar vulnerary and bandages. "You're a mercenary, same as I. Do you blame yourself for all those that meet their end at your hand? Or is your loss the only one that should be worthy of guilt, of holding a grudge?"

As if he did not regret some of the lives that he'd ended at the razor edge of his blade. Many had deserved the deaths he'd dealt them, but others still haunted his steps -- and they likely would continue to do so, his constant companions until he stepped through the veil of this world and into theirs.

His brow furrows in frustration, teeth grinding as his jaw clenches in an effort to maintain patience.

"If I had known you had supplies on you, I would have gone for them first, but forgive me for attempting to act swiftly for your benefit," he ground out, trying to direct his focus on redoing the hasty makeshift bandage he'd applied. "You'll still have to deal with the belts, I'm afraid. This bite is deep, large. We can't waste what bandages you do have in making a sling when you might bleed through what's here as is."

A brief silence as he peels away the now soaked sash to apply the vulnerary and then start rewrapping the wound.

"This will burn, but try not to tense too much."

[fangedjustice]

"You too, huh?" Altena makes her way to Lloyd's side to watch the end of the battle. "Maybe I shouldn't have made that bet with Linus that the Lions will beat the Deer."

It isn't lost on her that she allied herself with the same team as his older brother while he is fighting alongside her younger brother. She isn't really sure what it means but it's interesting.

"Do you want to watch the rest of the battle with me? Cheer him on together?"

Lloyd glances away from the battlefield when he hears Altena's voice, his expression smoothing out into something more fond after being stuck in a concentrated sort of frown before. "Altena," he greets, shifting a little to give her more room, "Sorry to see you didn't make it to the last round, but it's nice to have some good company."

He can't say he's surprised that the two are still finding ways to make wagers with one another, but he supposes it's pretty harmless if it's all in good fun.

"So, you decided to join the Lions this year, hm?" It was too bad they'd not been near each other on the field, he would have enjoyed fighting beside her again. "Did the house leader convince you, or were you motivated to face off against someone in particular?" If he recalled, her brother was a student in the Deer, and she's expressed hesitancy to fight against family -- even in a controlled mock fight such as this.

Lloyd uncrossed his arms, giving Altena a small, lopsided smile. "Well, what else are we to do on the sidelines but cheer those still fighting on? Come, I think I know a good spot."

[fangedjustice]

Ferdinand approaches with an even stride, his expression one of measured respect rather than simple concern. "Lloyd, you certainly gave us a proper challenge back there," he admits, the words carrying neither arrogance nor condescension—only an honest acknowledgment of skill. "but I must ask—are you well? I know firsthand how tiring a prolonged fight can be."

his eyes flicker briefly to the battlefield behind them, where dust is still settling in the wake of their clashes. "you fought with both wit and tenacity. a worthy opponent, to say the least. I expect nothing less from an opponent of your caliber." his smirk is good-natured, but the concern behind it is genuine. "I hope you will not let my lance deter you from future matches—I would much rather face you again at full strength."

"Ah, well, team effort and all that," Lloyd replies, waving off the slightly too serious tone the Black Eagles student was using. It was good sportsmanship to approach a defeated foe like this, but the kid didn't need to stand on airs with him. "Unless I had been able to get space between us, I think you would have defeated me even swifter in a one on one fight. That's why it helps to have solid comrades you can depend on, especially in a real life and death struggle."

Lloyd let out a slightly befuddled chuckle at that, an eyebrow quirked at Ferdinand.

"Do I seem so old to you for that to be a concern, lad?" He wasn't really offended -- might have even found it amusing -- especially since the young man was clearly expressing a genuine concern. "This is hardly my first large-scale battle, and it'll most definitely not be my last. Your concern is appreciated, but once I'm given the go ahead from the healers, I'll be right as rain."

He may not have been in his prime anymore after what had transpired in Elibe, but he was far from out of the game.

Lloyd returns the smirk, clapping Ferdinand on the shoulder. "In fact, I quite look forward to testing my blade properly against your lance in the future. Though, in the same vein, I hope you didn't take my taunts to heart."

[fangedjustice]

Fiora has some luck. After what happened during the fall of Garreg Mach — after what just happened and who she saw in this mock battle — all to now, to who she’s sitting next to, in the med tent. Her head is in her hands, bridge of nose pressed on either side of her thumbs. If only she could summon more emotion than just exhaustion. Just exhaustion.

“May I go, healer?” Her voice is impatient, but the healer tuts at her and pushes her back down to her seat, knocking her unintentionally into Lloyd. She looks as far away in the opposite direction from him as she can possibly manage as the healer tells her, in no uncertain terms, that she absolutely cannot leave yet.

The healer leaves the tent, and it’s, horribly, just her and Lloyd.

They don’t say anything for a few minutes, before Fiora decides to get some information.

“... Did you know Limstella was still alive?”

Lloyd had seen her as soon as he'd stepped into this particular medical tent, but before he could turn around to be treated at a different one, one of the healers had bustled over and herded him further into the tent. His wounds weren't terribly complicated to deal with, so he didn't protest; figuring he would be in and out before either of them could bother one another.

That was not the case.

As soon as they almost got passed where Fiora was sat, several more defeated combatants flooded into the tent, and the healer was fussing him down next to the despondent knight before hurrying off to get the newcomers situated.

It was awkward, to say the least. Fiora even tries to leave after things seem to get mostly settled, though it's clear she's yet to be tended to fully and the healers are quick to deny her request -- and physically push her back into her seat, which ends up with the somehow even more stiflingly awkward result of them bumping into each other and having to pretend like it didn't happen.

Like children.

Lloyd was almost about to address that issue -- because, really, they should both be able to be adults about this -- when Fiora comes out of the blue with a question that sets ice down his spine.

"...No," he answers honestly, breathlessly, "You think I would leave one of that man's--" He cuts himself off, shifting away from Fiora and casting a quick glance about the tent. No one is paying them any mind, and he recognizes none of them. "If I'd had knowledge of them being here, do you truly think I would be content to live without knowing their purpose?"

He'd barely survived the only encounter they'd had back in Elibe, and he was hardly comfortable with the knowledge of them being not only here in Fodlan, but at Garreg Mach.

[fangedjustice]

🧃"Here darling! Enjoy a nice little break after all that fighting."

"Ah, thank you," Lloyd responds, accepting the drink with a small nod of gratitude. "I imagine you have a fair amount of deliveries to make, so if you need a break yourself, just give a shout."

He'd taken a bit of a beating, but he'd been seen to by a healer at this point and just needed a bit of downtime before he could get back out there and see what needed tending to on the sidelines.

[princessmacedon]

no time for hello

[nabataprophet]

Hurt indeed it does and Sophia blinks once, twice, at the dull pain radiating from where the blunt end of the lance had struck her. It's certainly nothing life threatening, but the pain and the accompanying dizziness are enough to let her know that it's time to fall back. Better to be sore and sitting down at the medical tent than be unconscious and carted off the field.

To be honest, she still doesn't quite understand why they need to do a mock battle at all... but everyone looks to be having fun, so maybe it's fine to just leave things be. The girl on the other team in particular seems to be having fun trading swipes with her professor.

"Then... your wounds..." Sophia cocks her head. Her words are for everyone, although she doesn't particularly go out of her way to clarify this fact. "I can heal you... if you see me later... in the medical tent."

Sophia is defeated!

Wincing slightly, Sophia dusts herself off, patting down the last remaining embers still smoldering on her uniform. Silently (and a little unsteadily), the girl disappears from the battlefield, hair dragging behind her like the tail of some long forgotten beast.

[fangedjustice]

Their plan goes off without a hitch, really -- the fact that their opponents' lancer is able to get a hit in on him at the same time Kris finishes off the mage girl is simply a sacrifice required to get it done.

But, damn, it does smart more than he expected for a blow that wasn't as good as it clearly could have been. Maybe it was the drain of magic he was unused to wielding, or perhaps it was on account of the clinging, foul splotches of magic the girl had sent his way before she'd been defeated. Whatever it was, it had the White Wolf looking to put some distance between himself and the...very heart on his sleeve nobleman.

"A man's owed some luck at least once in his life, hm?" he replies to Kris, turning his attention to this Ferdinand Von Aegir fellow once more.

"Well, Ferdinand Von Aegir, let's see if you give chase better than your spear arm lands its strikes!" It's meant to fluster the opponent more than anything, as Lloyd does indeed not feel like taking another hit from that lance at all and exchanges a quick glance with Kris before bolting around to the left to get some distance.

Ironic words, it would seem, as the young man does give chase to the Wolf and gives him no quarter.

Lloyd is defeated!

[princessmacedon]

no time for hello

[rafent]

". . .And don’t let the Divine One, or whoever got the best of you last year, send your scaly ass to the medical tent before I can find you.”

So Rafal waited to be found. As he'd done before, with patience in proportion to many hundreds of years, he waited. Rigidly upright, the dragon stood straight as if every inch were conducive to his sweeping view of the field. This particular Battle of the Eagle and Lion, a crude promise from one to another was anticipated. Like a sweet hearted letter, a tender vow, or a lover's promise to meet again—except not quite. People did not often reunite with 'lovers' bearing cruel hatchets in hand. They did not so often wish to be hunted and to hunt in turn as those of their fell kind did.

But he returned to the present. In the end, before him were lions and eagles; familiar was the red robin directly in his line of sight. Familiar also: the blue-haired knight with whom Rafal had shared a gauntlet of battles, the unpresuming student with selfsame mystique as if it ran rich in her blood, another student with boundless enthusiasm nigh akin to a weapon. No green and swaggering individual among them.

More waiting, then. Even if the patience were growing thin.

Rafal activates Smash and misses Maria 6/6HP [Roll: 3 - 2 = 1, -0HP; Maria 6/6HP]

Crimson strands went flying, floated aloft by a gust before falling back toward Maria's chin. The fierce swing of Rafal's axe rent the air and landed nowhere. Whether it had aimed for Maria in particular or for some tardy suitor come too late, a matter unclear. Irritated words, however, shed some faint particles of light upon the truth:

"A warning, little Maria. When such a fearsome dragon should stand directly before you, it is he who you should aim for. Not anyone else."

The age-old lesson, of course: all eyes on me.

[fangedjustice]

This is the first time Lloyd finds himself allied with the same house as a previous battle on this particular field. There is a different energy to be sure -- some perhaps seem more sure of themselves after being tried in a more dire situation -- but despite the damage still visible, it's a strange source of normalcy.

Lloyd is quietly pleased to see Kris off to one side, more than curious to see the other in action after some time. The glitter of snow to his other side brings his gaze to red hair and a bright face that seemed ill-suited to the battlefield, yet the girl was holding her own well against the foes they had to deal with.

Reminded him of someone he dared not turn his thoughts to in this moment...

"Forgive me if this goes...wild, I've no great skill for magic, but I suffered a terrible loss for my lack of range last time," Lloyd remarked, lowering his blade to draw on what little spark of magical bonds he had.

Lloyd 5/5HP hits Sophia 5/5HP with Fire [Roll: 11; -1.5 + 1HP = -2.5HP, Sophia 2.5/5HP]

To his surprise, it does more or less what he had desired it to do -- it hardly came natural, but it was better than his last attempt to utilize it.

He was, however, wholly unfamiliar with the drain magic took on the body.

[fangedjustice]

February Activity Check

Status: Hiatus

Total Skill Points: 44 → -- Monthly Activity SP Earned: -- Event Activity SP Earned: -- Other SP Earned: -- Thread Completion SP Earned: --

Invested SP: --

Accessed Classes: --

Mastered Classes: --

[fangedjustice]

January Activity Check

Status: Passed

Total Skill Points: 43 → 44 Monthly Activity SP Earned: 1 Event Activity SP Earned: -- Other SP Earned: -- Thread Completion SP Earned: --

Invested SP: +1 to Flying C+ → Flying B (1/2)

Accessed Classes: --

Mastered Classes: --

[fangedjustice]

Sauna Is A Counter Pick Stage

They say if you go to the sauna completely alone at night, and get the room full of steam, you’ll see your doppelgänger in the mist. If you don’t defeat your doppelganger, or escape before it can catch you, your doppelganger will take your place! Or… Maybe it’s just someone else using the sauna… [Grants Gauntlet +1]

[thelightofcreation]

“If you are who you say you are- then I have no doubts you will complete a favor, even without a name.” He tilts his head, “And if you are not, then the fact you lied about such a past makes it so that the less I speak to you, the better- no matter what favor I call in.”

“I am choosing to believe you,” He continues, “I’ve met quite a few dishonest people, and most would have chosen to silence me here and now, rather than offer a boon in exchange.”

I don’t ask for such things anymore, is one protest he could offer, in return to the other man's insurances, or, perhaps, I only asked them of one person. He says neither, of course, only offering an enigmatic smile- promising neither to keep the offer, nor what any favor would be.

Better to be judged and keep himself in check.

Ah, and there it was.

The question he sought, and the answer he could give to goad the man into trying to start the attack anew on the tip of his tongue. For that vindictive desire to not be forgiven, so that this guilt had somewhere to go, that he could lash out in anger in response. But this man did not deserve such a fight.

“Teach me how.” It is surprisingly honest, eased by the fact that he spoke with a stranger, but still he feels as though he is presenting his heart to be shattered. “I’ve done nothing but regret since, but nothing I do is enough to make up for what I’ve done.”

Then, as if to paint over such honest fragility, he laughs lightly. “Quite an acquiescent answer, is it not? An easy way to avoid punishment.”

[fangedjustice]

Lloyd laughs at that response, surprisingly hearty considering the conversation they were having. It was just so...straightforward and honest an answer. No fluff, no pussyfooting around, no airs; just the simple facts, and it was refreshing.

"Fair enough! Seems we're of the same mind, then. An exchange of faith in each other's honor."

Lloyd goes quiet at the answer, his gaze firm as he searches the other's face. Even with the laugh after the fact, the attempt to brush away what was so clearly a true and honest answer, Lloyd was not distracted from the look in those eyes. It was one he understood, even if only a fraction. It was something that haunted his eyes, his steps, his heart as well.

"...The way I see it, we do not get to decide when or if we're forgiven. All we can do is keep trying to do good for others. Even if it doesn't reach those we directly wronged, the fact that you do regret it and that you're no longer walking the path that led you to cause that damage or rift in the first place...," he pauses, sighs as he shifts to gaze into the steam. "That matters. It counts for something."

With a stretch of his arms up and over his head, relishing in the easier movement the warmth has given him, Lloyd pushes off of the bench and gets to his feet, turning to stand before Sephiran.

"There are many I cannot directly make things up to. They followed me, my family, and they lost their lives to our mistakes. I should have died among them, and yet I did not," he says, "There is a reason you carry on, with the weight of your actions or lack thereof. You have the chance to change, to try and do better -- to stumble and fall, and pick yourself back up again. You are not here, alive, just to suffer. We can figure it out, one step at a time."

[fangedjustice]

One Star Rating On Tripadvisor

[beholdenning]

It takes the Fang a moment to understand their meaning, but understand it he does. Still, there must be easier ways about communication than this—Words fall messily upon the wayside, statement followed by question followed by statement.

Combat readiness aside, there is a nervousness about the man. Not common for him, no, not from what they know. This much is obvious: He expects them to beset him, but they would derive no use of his death. He fears the rising water, perhaps, which would be an issue if he continues prattling on.

Mm. Is he not an Instructor, at the Monastery? Or, at least, a part of it: They still know his quintessence too well for him not to be. It would be inconvenient to lose him.

Denning blinks, twice. Soaked hands reach down to pat their pockets as a charade in attempt to confirm his speculation, even if they are void of anything but a salt-crusted pocketknife and their Knight's insignia. A short shrug, then, exaggerated in imitation, before they fish out the latter, pinning it to their shirt and making to walk past him—Towards the climb upwards, and the modest lengths of cave that follow.

Denning turns back to the Fang. Stares, expectantly. It is obvious he wants to live. It is obvious he must follow. A hand opens, palm-up, and curls in a beckon.

[fangedjustice]

So, this one does not speak, it would seem. Unusual, as even the ones that had been used to replace and fill out the Black Fang's ranks had been difficult to detect. It's still a bit unnerving, just considering who and what they are, but Lloyd supposes he prefers this over the honeyed words of the others.

If this where anyone else, any other situation, he might have found the exaggerated pantomime humorous.

But, while it doesn't entirely put him at ease, it does tell him that the morph likely wasn't here for him. If so, they could have taken the chance to strike at him while he was taking stock of the water. Then they pull out a now familiar insignia, and Lloyd almost does laugh at the absurdity of fate.

Of course they were in the knights, just as he was.

His weapon isn't lowered until the morph moves past him, Lloyd reluctantly sheathing it once more as the construct stops and stares back at him, then beckons. Pulling in a deep breath through his nose and then releasing it in a heavy sigh, Lloyd runs a hand over his face and then up into damp hair. "Alright then, I suppose I have little choice."

He remains a step or two behind Denning, as he doesn't trust one of them at his back ever again, but he does grudgingly follow.

"...How long were you in here?" he asks, eyebrow arched. He'd arrived fairly early in the morning himself, and yet he hadn't heard or seen them at all while exploring.