May the Goddess Bless Us All

Mercedes, she/her, proud bisexual! (( part of a closed rp group @theofficersacademy ))

[godsmercie]

munday!!!

tagged by the whole goddamn circus :yellow_heart:

nicknames: i dont rly have any??? eli is. a very short name as is hjdkasl. maybe ‘egwi’ if you consider my friend’s typos a nickname lmao (which then got transposed into ‘egg white’) zodiac:  Cancer (Sun), Aries (Rising), and Pisces (Ascendant)! and i’m a metal snake! height: 5′2″ or 5′3″ on a really good day rehjdwksl timezone: CST listening to: Dreaming with You by Circus-P (ive been on a vocaloid kick lately hfjsdka)  last movie i saw: Legally Blonde!! (which, ironically, is the exact same age as me, down to the day!) last thing i googled: "flynn rider smolder” (for an art reference ghejkdsl) average amount of sleep: not enough or way too much, there is no inbetween. what i’m wearing: a yellow pink cardigan, blue polka-dot pyjama pants, and a comfy yellow t shirt! dream job: a high school art teacher in my home city, but like, in an ideal world i would love to be a character designer/illustrator, but im just not good enough at design for that fhwjdkl dream trip: i would love to go back to the UK again- i went there for a month when i was 10-11 and i cant remember much of anything, so i’d love to go back! i’d also love to visit japan,,, favorite food: i have a lot of favorites that vary depending on the day, but kitfo and ayib,,,,,, oh i miss that a lot rjheksd play any instruments?:  i’m not formally trained in anything, but i do sing! i dabbled in piano and recorder for a little while as a kid, but it never went anywhere- though i was part of a kazoo only cover band with two of my childhood friends, but we never recorded any of our songs :pensive: eye color: blue/blue-grey!  hair color: naturally its a dirty blonde (it was platinum blonde when i was little) but i dye it all kinds of colors! currently the bleached parts are a faded blue languages: english, baby spanish (i cant read it well anymore, but i can understand most of what is being said to me out loud, though i can’t reply in spanish), bits a pieces of german (my mom is a certified german teacher and uses it a lot!), and spotty american sign language! (both my parents were former asl interpreters, which is how they met, so i grew up around a lot of sign! unfortunately my language acquisition skills suck major ass and i picked up very very little) most iconic song: ok i have a few and theyre just. songs i have listened to on repeat for A Very Long Time whenever my depression was acting up so-- Goodbye Yellow Brick Road by Elton John, Piano Man by Billy Joel, Once Upon Another Time by Sara Bareilles, I’m Not Okay by MCR, Goodbye by Circus-P, and Caitlin by nostraightanswer. random fact about me: originally before i picked my name (since im nb) i was named after my mom’s first lesbian crush! (my mom is bi, but SUPER female leaning bi. she likes. maybe 0.001% of men. and thats a generous estimate.) it was Elisabeth Sladen, the actress for doctor who’s Sarah Jane Smith hrejkdsl reason for my url:  it’s. a double pun grfhjdskl. it’s a play on both the phrase “God’s mercy” and mercedes’s main nickname, as she’s “God’s Mercie” i.e. Mercie of God, since she’s religious rhjsdkl

[godsmercie]

histoires assombries

continued from here

Her response is nearly as surprising as the rumor itself. An interest in the supernatural, born from a reality that was far more frightening. Hubert quietly hums his understanding, although it’s no less strange to hear the words from Mercedes. He would have more easily believed it from someone like Bernadetta, despite her timidity, or Petra, to assuage the horrors of being uprooted from one’s home. But it had been Hubert’s mistake to assume that nothing lurked beneath Mercedes’ compassion and kind smile.

At her mention of Linhardt’s cowardice, he doesn’t bother hiding the knowing half-smile that creeps across his lips. A memory of crimson ink and a face blanched white flickers through his mind just vibrant enough for him to know that he had scared the Hevring heir as well. And that it, too, had been swept beneath a crumbling mask of bravery and defiance. A child, that one is. But he doesn’t comment, having glimpsed that familiar head of green somewhere along the beach earlier that day. He has never been one to gossip out in the open.

“You wear quite a mask,” he says instead, jeering tone tempered by an undercurrent of solemnity. Severe lines carved by firelight hide the smirk that still sits on his lips and conceal his eyes in deep shadow. He doesn’t look at her.

“No one would believe that you have hardships of your own. I suppose that makes it easier for you to dote on others.”

He hums in understanding, and she allows herself to relax a bit more, shoulders slumping ever so slightly. She happens to glance towards him in time to see the half-smile as she speaks on Linhardt’s poorly disguised fear, and her own lips quirk a bit further upwards, but she looks back to the fire soon enough- much sooner than when Hubert speaks again, and she does glance at him as he speaks, but upon seeing his gaze elsewhere, she too looks elsewhere- the fire, specifically. Fire, in it’s wild nature and all the destruction it held the potential of causing, remained harmless here, contained to a small space, eventually to starve itself out.

There’s something in that that reminds her of a great many people.

She pulls the shawl tighter over her shoulders to ward off the chill despite knowing full well it was from within herself that she summoned up a shiver, thoughts settled as they were in the morose and dreary.

When he speaks, she can hear the difference in his tone, however slight it may be, and she hums.

“It is not so much a mask as it is... well, myself now. It began as a mask, but... if you wear a mask for long enough, in time it becomes your face, moreso than the one you hid under the mask in the first place.” She watches the fire, the flickering of flames, the ebb and flow to the glow of the embers with the breeze. 

“In all honesty, I think it rather short-sighted for people to believe myself to have lived a life free of suffering. In all my time on this earth, time and time again I have seen one thing remain constant; those who are kindest to others, who lend their whole heart and soul to aid those in need of it- they are themselves survivors of much grief, much pain in whatever form it may take. Those who do their best to give and give until there is nothing left of them to take, they have often suffered in some way, and suffered for a considerable time. And part of how they find themselves attempting to heal their own wounds- they give and give to others to do their best to ensure others do not suffer in the same way, to offer respite where they may, and in seeing another person flourish where they themselves had no choice but to whither... That is how they heal.” She gives a soft, slightly sad smile to the fire, and thinks of Edelgard. She is well aware she is missing a number of the pieces of that puzzle, but she has enough to have an idea of what it is attempting to portray.

“In my case, I suppose I am still healing, because there is no way to heal fully, to become who you might have in another world where you do not suffer as heavily. I am still healing, but I have healed considerably from my own suffering, I have learned better where I might set boundaries as to when I can give and when I must hold the various parts of myself to my chest. And it has become a part of who I am to want to dote, to give others the love I was withheld many, many years ago. And perhaps it is easier to dote when people do not believe my past to have been fraught with struggles, when they see me as an icon of human devotion, but perhaps it is harder. If everyone were to believe I did not ever suffer, I believe my warm nature and quiet positivity may well come across as uninformed and naive, convincing people that I would never truly sympathize with their struggles, their hardships. It all depends on the person, I suppose. How they perceive those around them- the world around them. There is no single way or method that makes such things easier on all accounts.”

                                                               @vonvestra

[godsmercie]

kiss !

open!

She watches as Ingrid wanders about the beach, finding herself surprised as the other blonde approaches her booth, though she masks her surprise easily enough, smile teetering just between sweet and teasing.

“Ingrid! It’s a pleasure to see you here! I pray the beach life has treated you well.” She rests her chin in her palms, fingers curling up to frame her face. She had been of the notion that Ingrid had yet to realize that she could potentially be interested in other women-

                             (mercedes wasn’t blind; she saw the awe mixed with something else that played on the blonde’s face as she watched dorothea perform, as she trained with other powerful women, as she watched girls interact with their mounts; it was clear as day, but ingrid’s attitude and general friend group had long since convinced mercedes that she, like her childhood friends, was wildly oblivious to things that did not fit their preconceived notions of the world)

-but perhaps she had been wrong. Her smile toes the line between coy and playful now. “I’m sure you the read the sign, yes?” It tilts towards coy. “Are you here to steal a kiss? How scandalous- whatever will the people of Faerghus think?” she teases, smile pulling ever larger. “Joking aside, you are here for a kiss, yes?” Then, again to her surprise, Ingrid nods, red and pink hues painting her cheeks and ears like the light of a sunset might, and Mercedes feels her smile soften, eyes crinkling at the corners every so slightly.

“Alright then,” she says, moving to standing before she reaches out, taking the other blonde’s cheeks in her hands, marveling at the intensity of the heat under her hands before she leans in, pressing her lips to Ingrid’s.

Now, call her meddling, but Mercedes kisses her properly, at least as far as gentle kisses go, in the hopes of perhaps spurring on a series of self-discoveries on Ingrid’s end. Which means she keeps kissing her, longer than she had for anyone else, but not too much longer- she had enough sense for that, lest she send across the wrong message entirely. As she leans back, her gentle smile returns, and she presses a single finger to her own lips before she licks her lips slightly. She’ll let Ingrid interpret what that means.

“There you are,” she says finally, relaxing herself as she returns to sitting. “I hope I matched your expectations,” she finishes, playful lilt obvious in her voice.

[godsmercie]

(kiss) "This cake is divine, Mercedes!" Lysithea gushed as she stuffed another forkful into her mouth. "I insist that you teach me the recipe!"

open!

Mercedes giggles as Lysithea approached, clearly oblivious to the activity at hand whilst she gushed about the cake Mercedes had left in the resort for others to try- she had time now, and what else was there to do besides bake?

“I’m delighted you enjoy it so much Lysithea! Here, I shall write down the recipe in just a moment, but-” she smiles coyly, leaning in to press the gentlest of kisses to the corner of the girl’s lips, wiping it with her thumb as she pulled away, moving to lick the morsel of frosting off the offending digit. 

“You had a little something on your face, and I am running a little enterprise here, so I thought that perhaps I might kill two birds with one stone, so to speak,” she offers playfully, reaching a hand out to assist in holding the cake steady. “Careful there- you might drop it in the sand, and that just won’t do!”

Is she teasing the girl more than strictly necessary? Yes. Will she stop? No.

She hums casually, wishing a paper, ink, and a quill into being before she begins copying the recipe from memory, humming a cheerful little tune as she does, smiling with feigned innocence as she hands Lysithea the page. “And here you are- the recipe.”

[godsmercie]

tout reste (mais ça change encore)

It took her a moment, for her mind to catch up to her heart.

Her heart longed; she missed the gentle touch of Edelgard’s gloved hand in her own, the quiet warmth her presence provided, the confidence that trailed after her every movement, the... all of her.

But her mind saw that something was wrong.

Edelgard had caught a glimpse of her, and looked confused. Her posture did not relax, her lips did not pull into the smile Mercedes had burned into her memory many moons ago, her breath did not leave her lungs in a relieved sigh as Mercedes’s own had when she’d seen Edelgard-

Something was wrong. Her heart freezes up in her chest, and so too do her limbs, despite being instants from bursting into a run to greet her. Mercedes looks in her eyes and                 d o e s n ‘ t   s e e                                 t h e   g i r l   s h e   k n e w                                                                      i n   t h e m .

She doesn’t see herself reflected in them either. Instead she sees a woman not to be trusted, a woman dressed in a red that she                                                       d o e s n ‘ t                                                                   b e l o n g                                                                                     i n.

So instead of running, of grabbing familiar hands in her own and squeezing, of leaning in and holding her-

Mercedes walks over, painted smile on her lips, eyes artfully softened just enough to be friendly but not enough to say i know you and care deeply about you (all skills she learned in the faerghus church, when she still walked on imagined eggshells, fresh out of a living hell as she was) before she stops, about 5 feet away from the younger woman. She hums lightly to herself- stay casual, hide the pain, hide the heartache- before looking to Edelgard.

(edelgard, whose skin was laden with foreign scars, whose blood was cursed by someone or something, who had some kind of p l a n that mercedes only knew was bigger than she could even imagine, edelgard-

                      she needed someone to help her rest her wings, and mercedes would allow herself to be that for edelgard, in whatever way the princess might have her.

                                            somehow, she doubts she will be so lucky again as to be requited in her love of the younger woman, but it does not mean she does not wish to offer a grand eagle a perch.)

“Ah, Edelgard- how are you doing as of late? I know you don’t like-- assume you’re a bit more conservative in your style of dress than is common for a beach, considering your typical uniform back at the academy, so I pray this... unplanned excursion is still appealing to you, despite that.”

[godsmercie]

(kiss!) "Mercedes." Dedue approached the small structure his fellow Lion was sitting at. "I have seen many people sitting at or visiting... 'kissing booths' recently. Are they for some sort of Fodlan celebration I'm not familiar with?" And then he looks at the sign... "...Oh."

open!

She finds herself surprised to see Dedue approaching her little stand, and she watches him carefully, a hand going to rest under her chin whilst he approaches.

“Dedue! It is a pleasure to see you,” she says in reply to his slightly curt greeting. Then he begins to explain why he had come looking for her, and her smile tightens as she attempts to withhold the warm giggles that threaten to fall from her lips in reply- though they do bubble out as he comes to the realization that she is currently manning one of the strange booths. She sits up, a coy smile on her face.

“Oh, they’re not too standard, nor are they tradition. It’s more a way to get people feeling more comfortable around one another- and to have a little fun while they’re at it.” Her smile grows a tad more fond as she adds “Cynthia was the one to spark the chain of them, though. She has so much charisma and joy to her that it’s rather hard to say no even if one wanted to. She’s a wonderful maelstrom of chaos and joy, as always.”

Her smile turns a bit more teasing in nature as she hums lightly to herself. “Here- why don’t I show you how fun it is, since you haven’t encountered them before?” Her expression softens a bit and she leans forwards in her booth. “Don’t be shy- we are friends after all.” When he leans down, she gently takes his cheeks in her hands, pulling him ever-so-slightly into a proper kiss, and she holds him there for a moment longer than she might otherwise do- Dedue is so deserving of love, and Mercedes is of the firm opinion that kissing is a wonderful way to demonstrate her own love for him, though it is more platonic than anything. After pressing her lips to his twice, readjusting herself slightly to ensure he knew her intent, touch gentle and warm, she draws back, expression caught between a quiet joy and a playful smile.

“There- you see? I pray that was as enjoyable for you as it was for me.”

[godsmercie]

olympian aesthetics

APHRODITE (9). laughter-loving, sweet smiles, dressed in silk and satin, flower in their hair, thrives on attention, sees the world as a runway, unapologetically sexual, the sea washing their ankles, in love with love, stirrer of passion, cunning concealed by painted lips, secret daggers, doves, revolution in their kiss, delighting in the waves, flirtatious winks, strolling along the beach, staring wistfully from a balcony, this is how to be a heartbreaker, your girlfriend thinks they’re attractive, wants to be adored, turned on by danger. APOLLO (7).  glitz and glamour, art galleries, turning the volume up, being made of gold, neatly-organized music sheets, notebooks filled with poetry, bathing in the sunlight, the powerful urge to create, collecting vinyl records, beautiful cover of wonderwall, playing multiple instruments, tasting like sunshine, healing touch, speaking in prophecies, smile mingled wrath, shunning lies, sporting shades, hanging out at music festivals with their friends, sleeping naked, arrow to the heart, paint brushes. ARES (5). armed for battle, wants to raise a dog with their significant other, soft spot for children, gives piggyback rides, scarred body, blood on their hands and face, willing to fight the world for the ones they love, fights against injustice, warm hugs, well-worn combat boots, boxing gloves, bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles, fist raised in protest, ignites revolutions, fear is a prison, more sensitive than what their tough shell will make you think, exhausted, damaged goods, force to be reckoned with, red roses, curses under their breath. ARTEMIS (9). keen sense of a hunter, freckles like constellations on their skin, piercing eyes, disheveled braid, moonlight peeking through the shadows, the calm of the forest at night, lying on the grass and staring at the stars, mother doe and her fawn, protecting their kin, the moon shimmering on a still lake, quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree, running with wolves, bonding while circled around a campfire, not being much of a people person, arrow hitting a target, popping egos, patience on 3%, touches heaven and returns howling. ATHENA (2). discerning gaze, unreadable face, the patience of a lifelong teacher, quiet museums, owl perched on their finger, armor that intimidates, eye for architecture, studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid, big fan of logic, loves brain teasers, go-getter, balls of wool displayed on shelves, ancient buildings, sweaters in neutrals and cool colors, hair done up, can kill you with their brain, heads to the library often to research, sharpened pencils, abs that can cut steel, stoic statues, pottery classes. DEMETER (8). soil-covered hands, smile that can bloom flowers, skin loved by the sun, being the mom-friend, flowers kept in the pockets of overalls, takes pride in their beautiful garden, speaks to their plants (elementals), leaves rustling in the wind, stalks of wheat, picking fruit, greenhouses, heart as strong as a mountain, values simplicity, daisies dotted across a collarbone, curls crowned with flowers, folded pile of sweaters in warm hues, pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air. DIONYSUS (1). drunk shitposter, on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second, seductive smirks, untamed curls, rich fabrics on dark skin, sleek-furred panthers, theater masks, stage productions, receiving a standing ovation, rose caught between their teeth, being the baby of the bunch, wild parties that last from sundown to sunup, creeping vines, inspiring loyalty, grand opera houses, masquerade balls, rolls of film, shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the floor, pouring champagne into flutes, lives for the applause. HEPHAESTUS (1). the calloused hands of someone who knows labor, sweaty brow, flame burning in their eyes, inventive mind, broad shoulders, steampunk goggles, nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes, ashes, striking a match, blueprints for future projects, fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades, wrestles with bitterness, work boots have seen better years, wrinkled plaid shirts, iron melted in blazing fire, huge jackets, crafting masterpieces, greased-stained overalls, fascination with robotics, pain is fuel, stack of weaponry. HERA (2). resting bitch face, dressed to the nines, cows grazing on a pasture, cool rain, loving and hating fiercely, hand clutching a string of pearls, large chandelier with glittering crystals, plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims, romance to realism, pictures of the sky while flying on a plane, downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath, like their selfie or you’re grounded, knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man, dark eyes that penetrate your soul, marble and gold.

HERMES (3). devil-may-care smile, ink-stained hands, always up-to-date on the latest technology, does it for the vine, shitposter, puts googly eyes on everything, meme hoarder, long drives on the highway, ma and pop diners, spontaneous road trips, folded maps, fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop, shooting hoops on the basketball court, chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations, goes jogging in the morning, mixes redbull with coffee, menace on april fool’s, hoodies and sneakers.

POSEIDON (6).  storm with skin, colorful coral reefs, waves crashing against the shore, the sea casting its spell, stroking the soft fur of a cat, their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop, tousled locks, clothes smeared with paint, owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns for more, leather jackets, fondness for diy projects, handwriting that flows across the page, nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin, velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams, mood as ever-changing as the sea, the roar of a motorcycle, compass with a spinning arrow. ZEUS (1). thunder in their heart, running on coffee, flash of lightning, natural charisma, eloquence, badass in a nice suit, aficionado of history, force of nature, pretends they don’t have feelings but they do, nightmare-filled nights, proud arm around their lover’s waist, high-rise buildings, planes soaring through a cloudless sky, technician on the piano, maintains order, strong handshake, juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease, most likely to be voted class president out of their peers, expensive watch.

[godsmercie]

💋 "Mercedes!" Her hero in the skies, the every merciful winged healer. Her heart swells at her presence, full of gratitude and relief after that horrid experience. Tethys beams up at the younger woman, arms propped on the booth, "This looks fun, care to spare me one?"

She cannot help but beam at Tethys in return- the woman was not only beautiful in every sense of the word, but she was absolutely incredible- never before had Mercedes felt so invigorated, so able in battle, so... useful outside the infirmary. She waves as Tethys approaches, relaxing a bit in her seat.

“Tethys,” she returns, beaming smile turning to more of a playful grin. “It is rather fun, and I would love to offer you one, but...” She hums, a fingertip going to rest on her own bottom lip. “I may have run out of appointments just before you arrived-” She looks to the sun, as if assessing the time before giggling to herself. “Ah, would you look at that! It seems the Goddess has given me a tad bit of extra time before my evening prayers, so I believe I can manage one last smooch before I leave!” she says, clearly teasing about the whole endeavor. Still, she leans forwards, a hand going to the older woman’s cheek before gently pressing their lips together for a few moments before pulling away slightly, only to lean back in and kiss her nose. She pulls away, giggling to herself.

“I pray that was as fun as you had hoped,” she offers, and then her smile softens. “But truly- thank you for your help then. Some of my memories remain hazy, but you- you are incredible. I am glad your help made me of use in that battle, able to help more people. Thank you.”

[godsmercie]

a cheek kissssss

open!

Mercedes smiles warmly as Sharena approaches her booth, looking as sunny as ever- she seems to reflect the very sun in the sky here in that respect; a dreamy brightness that does not hurt to look upon while still emanating warmth- truly the best of what a sun could offer.

“Sharena, it is lovely to see you here- are you coming for a kiss?” The girl nods, pointing to a cheek, and Mercedes sighs softly. “A shame,” she says, “I would have liked to see if you tasted as sweet as you are to others, but I wouldn’t push your boundaries like that.” Her smile grows. “Here, come, lean in and I shall give you a little smooch on the cheek!” She giggles to herself, and dutifully presses a gentle kiss to the princess’s cheek. After about 3 seconds, she leans back, a pleasant smile on her face before she sticks her tongue out a tad, as though in thought, but her coy smile afterwards gives away her words.

“Oh, it is sweet, even just on the cheeks- you’re simply darling.” She laughs a bit, hand going up to cover her mouth slightly. “Joking aside, I hope that was to your satisfaction, Sharena.”

[godsmercie]

Kiss!

She had just finished settling herself at the booth when Bernadetta approached, and she offers the girl a warm smile. “Bernie! It’s lovely to see you- I pray you’re doing well, yes?” She pauses, as if she didn’t know she exactly why the girl was at the booth. “What is that brings you here- oh!” she gives a slightly exaggerated gasp. “Are you here for a kiss? Well, you’ve come to the right place!” she says, tone bright, though it then lowers briefly as she adds, “You’re alright with me kissing you on the lips, yes?”

Bernadetta offers a very flustered, very rapid single nod in reply, and Mercedes’s smile relaxes. “Wonderful. Now, would you mind coming a bit closer? I can’t seem to reach your cute face from so far away!” Bernadetta shuffles closer, and Mercedes delicately takes her face in her hands, letting out a single breathy laugh as she feels the warmth of the girl’s bright red cheeks under her fingertips before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to Bernadetta’s lips, lingering a moment longer than needed just because Bernadetta deserved so much more love, truly. Mercedes gives her a warm smile as she pulls away again, hands lingering too before sinking down to her hands to hold them for a moment- reassurance. 

“I hope that at least met your expectations, Bernie. And, to reply to your sentiment from earlier, when I visited your booth- it was truly the least I could do Bernadetta. You deserved all that kindness and more. Remember that, alright?”

[cynthero]

My muse is manning the kissing booth. Send “kiss!” to get a smooch!

[godsmercie]

razurite​:

stumbling harmonies

     his name falls from her lips with ease. she repeats his name, as if they had not heard her the first time. the gold of their eyes does not melt. his name was reassurance—that they needn’t worry, that their ‘ SECRET ‘ was safe with her. she was a friend of kana’s, they remind themselves. she was someone important to kana. important enough to tell them at first meeting. important enough that shigure chooses to bite their tongue. the hesitation drips through the syllables in her reply, her hands shaking and her apology is swift. 

          she does not mean any harm in her question. digits curl into loose fists, then palms open again against their blanket. but, irritation finds them all the same. it is no revelation, so much as it is simply fact that shigure was as they were. floating aimlessly, content to only exist. they needed no words for it, not did they need the invitation of a stranger to speak to it.

      there is something unspeakably irritating about that. a breath escapes, like a wave crashing soundlessly against the shore. it is a question that does not merit an answer and shigure thinks with quiet amusement that perhaps kana would be better suited to answering her prying questions. it appeared she took a great deal from him. though, perhaps it is best that they impress on kana that he needn’t answer questions he cared not to answer.

      the question falls prey to the silence and shigure casts their attention to the scissors in her hands. songbird clears its throat, pointing to the sharpness of the edge. 

      “you should be more careful,” they murmur. “you could cut yourself with those. then, you’d end up in my position,” the corners of their lips turn upward, just slightly, and shigure affords a quiet laugh. hopeful, that at least, the needling would end there. “and i’ve never been very good at healing magic,” they pause. “or very handy with bandages, i’m afraid.”

She feels it- the cold irritation. It is there for a flash, but she knows full well her own irritation is different. That was theirs, and she bows her head further. Her cheeks flare with embarrassment, her chest twisting uncomfortably, and they breathe out- perhaps it’s a sigh, but they are so poised in all they do she can’t quite tell.

Then they clear their throat, and point out how she’s being a tad reckless with the scissors, and she breathes out a half-laugh in return. an out, they’re offering her an out. “Ah, well, luckily for me, if i do happen to cut myself, I’m quite decent at healing magic, and if I had not had much practice before, this past month has given me quite a familiarity with bandages and how best to apply them, so I’m not worried overmuch, but you’re right that I should be more careful- just because I can heal it doesn’t mean I should be getting hurt in the first place.” 

With that, the last of the bandages fall away, and she begins the gentle work of cleaning the skin beneath, letting healing magic flow ever so gently from her fingertips as she hums a hymn- just enough to dull any pain they might be feeling as she does her work. This is easy, sitting in silence with them, gently handling their wounds, light magic humming along with her voice- which has raised to a hushed recitation of the hymn, salves being gently rubbed into skin before wrapping fresh bandages just so around their injuries. And yet, despite the calm this brings, the curiosity still wells on her tongue, but she is no stranger to swallowing such emotions, no matter how much she truly wants to know.

She moves to the other side of the cot, beginning her work on the bandages there, continuing to sing softly- the use of a song to help her magic well where it needs to, helps keep her from asking questions she’d rather certain they don’t wish to hear, let alone answer. After a time, she finishes, and her quiet singing stops too, the magic receding from her hands, a slight weariness settling in her bones- she’s fine, but it’s a warning to not push her magic too much further.

“Alright, Shigure- anything else you need me to attend to? Anything hurting a bit too much at the moment?” Again, words sit on the tip of her tongue, but she has bothered them quite enough. They needn’t hear about her own worries when they have much bigger things to care about, like themselves, and Kana. She wasn’t close to them, and she wonders what about them made her want to desperately to share, but she holds back that desire, offering a polite, professional smile their way instead.

[godsmercie]

wolfhednar​:

faithfully cautious

          she doesn’t answer immediately, instead moving closer to where the grass gives way to fine sand and bows to the lapping edges of the lake’s surface. had it been that difficult of a question? he wonders, watching as she kneels down to sift her hands through the water — is she looking for something? with back turned, she says something quietly as if embarrassed to admit it, and he has to step closer to hear. looking for peace… so that was her reason for insisting on coming on this mission? he watches her for a couple beats longer, taking in the slope of her shoulders, dwarfed by the magnitude of the teutates basin but somehow magnified by the tiny ripples that wash against her wrists.

          ❝ hmph. you brought me here just for respite, ❞ he remarks coolly, though his tone lacks the customary sting of disapproval. instead, he redirects his gaze back up and out, over the still, glassy expanse, observing the trees in the distance as they wave with a passing breeze, and closes his eyes.

          and lets it soak in. the distant birdsong, the warmth of sunlight and clear sky, the sparkling clarity of crystalline water and fresh loam.

                    …

          until the faint but ominous drag of a long groan somewhere out there, like the creak of stone doors cracking open but much larger, makes his eyes snap open again, scan the lake’s surface in alarm for the source. ❝ … did you hear that? ❞

          as though in answer, it sounds again: a deep, sonorous c r e a k like bones straining under a massive weight, but this time with a hollow resonance that was almost tonal, like the sound of a bea—

          ❝ there! ❞ off the middle of the lake, some ways from the side of the temple, a tremorous circle of ripples cascades from a disturbance at its epicenter, from some shape concealed under the water. instinctively, he reaches for his sword, though it’s far enough away that it shouldn’t reach them faster than he could react. ❝ mercedes, get— ❞ but no sooner does he move to pull her back from the shoreline do the ripples suddenly multiple in size and speed, like something herculean coming to surface.

                                        … before vanishing altogether. 

                                                                      gone,

          leaving only fading concentric echoes to wash against the shore as a sign that there had been anything. that and the sudden absence of sound: nature holding its breath in anticipation of whatever they had almost seen. had there been some legend about a creature in lake teutates that he doesn’t remember? whatever the case, he still takes mercedes’ arm to pull her away, remaining watchful of the now too-calm waters in expectation of an attack. ❝ it isn’t safe. we shouldn’t stay here. ❞

She notes that when he replies, he doesn’t seem disapproving, meaning he is at worst neutral on this endeavor- that the Goddess for that small mercy. She truly didn’t wish to inconvenience him, but he deserved a bit of relaxation too, even if he had to be encouraged to do such.

But alas, shortly after they both let themselves take in the quiet of the world around them, the silence was broken, and Felix jumped to attention. Mercedes herself was not far behind, already drawing her Blessed Lance- her encounter with Sophrosyne had better honed her battle-readiness, and now she had some semblance of poise with weapons- and she was still stuck in the mindset that creaking sounds in water were indicative of vicious turtles. 

“I heard it,” she answers, voice hushed, and then Felix almost shouts, and he-

oh.

He’s... protecting her. She finds herself a bit exasperatedly amused- he was doing the very thing he chided her for last time they found themselves outside the monastery together, but she pushes that feeling aside as she eyes the... form of something, rising nearly out of the water, a gargantuan thing- an old thing, she notes by the creaking of tired bones- moving in a way entirely different from her memories of Sophrosyne and the Sophis.

She is filled with a fleeting fear that the two of them, here alone by a temple to Saint Indech, have discovered another beast of Arcadia-

And then, it is gone. The forest around them silent, the rippling water quickly stilling again.

It can’t be a beast, she thinks, it did not attack us, and the beasts seemed hellbent on death and destruction. When Felix pulls her arm, she gladly goes, but she keeps her eyes on the lake, whistling for Azalea. 

“Yes, I agree fullhea-” she goes to answer, but in an instant she stiffens.

There, freshly emerged from the waters, is a... it has to be the head of... Goddess alone knows what it is that lies in Lake Teutates, it is both alike and wholly different from demonic beasts in appearance, and her fear and alarm is nearly overshadowed by her sheer confusion as to what this thing is and what purpose it has in the lake. Shes stares in it’s eyes for a second. Two seconds. On the third, it gives some semblance of what she can only assume to be a nod before slowly sinking back into the blue waters. She watches as it sinks, dumbfounded for a moment before getting a hold of herself, Azalea finally reaching her side.

“We- we need to go. I don’t know what that was, and I don’t find myself inclined to find out,” she says, foot swinging into a stirrup while her hands grasp at the pegasi’s halter. “We didn’t run into anyone on the way- here, get on behind me, we should get back as fast as we can. I... I don’t think we want to be here when... whatever that was resurfaces.”

Distantly, she pats herself on the back for not freezing up in this moment, taking control of herself and moving.

[progenitess]

silent moon

The nights were quiet at Garreg Mach, and for once, Sothis found herself unable to sleep. Slipping out of Byleth’s room, Sothis was lost in her own mind as she floated across the grounds, perching just above the wall overlooking the graveyard.

Her eyes drifted over the weathered stones, feeling the tug in her chest at some familiar sensation. Why? What was so familiar that she couldn’t remember? Her whole existence was just a puzzle she couldn’t figure out. And while Byleth made for nice company at times, she didn’t know what they had to do with her. Why them? 

All Sothis knew was through their eyes, their memories, their experiences. But…there were so many unexplainable things. 

With a groan, Sothis kicked her feet in frustration, floating down towards the graves themselves, hovering above the ground as she stared out towards the horizon. 

“What sort of life is this meant to be?” There had to be some greater meaning, she just knew it.

@godsmercie

[godsmercie]

Mercedes spent more time in the graveyard than most.

She would visit, bearing flowers from the greenhouse to lay on every grave- many letters had long since worn away, making the identities of the bones beneath the layers of earth wear away with them. Just losing their sense of material self did not mean they should not be respected just as much as those recently laid to rest.

She spent quite a lot of time in the graveyard, especially at night, when she could give quiet vigils to the dead with only them to hear, but she can’t say she ever expected to genuinely encounter a spectre in the monastery floating idly above the gravestones, her clothes and long hair draping, shining with moonlight that seeped through her ghostly form- Mercedes was sure she’d have been backlit by the light if her form were wholly solid. She quietly approached.

What kind of ghost story-teller would she be if she did not capitalize on meeting a ghost?

She cleared her throat once she reached the bottom step of the staircase leading to the gravestones, wicker basket hanging from one arm, flowers laid neatly inside. Mercedes offered up a warm polite smile, glancing at the patterning of the girl’s attire, her regalia utterly entrancing- one might even go so far as to call it ceremonial. It certainly appeared similar to motifs she’d seen in Church clothes, and elements of her headdress were eerily similar to those of Archbishop Rhea’s...

Perhaps this girl was a former archbishop- though Mercedes had no explanation as to her elongated ears.

She supposed she would have to look into that later. But for now, she bowed her head in greeting, one foot going backwards to imitate a curtsy.

“Good evening, miss. What brings you here tonight?”

[godsmercie]

🔥 - While the days are hot, the evenings bring with them a slight chill. The fires built along the beach (by someone who, for now, remains a mystery) offer a welcome respite from the darkness and when Hubert turns to his left, he notices that Mercedes had had the same idea. His eyes return to the flickering flames and watch the shadows that dance with the wind. “I’ve heard rumors that you’re quite fond of ghost tales,” he says after a time. “To be honest, I never expected you to be the type.”

She pulls her shawl tighter over her shoulders as she stares at the flickering firelight, simple dress having done little to combat the chill. She supposes she could just go inside the resort, but...

She can’t help but find it almost unsettling to lay in a bed and not be tired despite staying up for so long- something to do with the strange ethereal qualities of this world they find themselves in, she supposes, but thinking such does little to quell the sensation. She finds it strange that the shawl Edelgard had painted for her was here, but she did not question it overmuch- the Goddess played a hand in this world, in the dreams of Mercy and other virtues, and Mercedes had few doubts the Goddess would know of such things, or know how to fulfill desires for such little things, even if they be great in sentimentality.

When Hubert speaks to her, she finds herself pleasantly surprised- she hadn’t expected to... well, for him to speak to her with anything other than thinly veiled suspicion and hostility. Because of that she’d elected to sit in amiable silence with him by the fire, but she cannot say she is not relieved by the invitation to discuss simple things.

“Ah, well, you’ve heard correctly- they’re a love of mine,” she begins, voice thoughtful. “And I suppose I don’t look or act to be one interested in such things, being a healer and a baker and all. But I’ve been fond of them for...” She pauses in thought, reaching for a memory of when she hadn’t been fond of the eerie, the supernatural, and the frightening. 

“Well, in all honesty, for as long as I can remember.” She debates speaking as to the reason for a moment, but decides it is alright- she wishes to extend an olive branch to him, as it were, and she doubted he wasn’t already aware of her past, considering her relationship to his liege. “I suppose it may be to do with my early childhood. It was easier to pretend there were scarier things in the world than my step-father, and eventually that mild attachment grew to a true fondness rather than a method of escapism.” She glances to her right at him again.

“Actually,” she starts, voice taking on a hint of playfulness, “during our... during the time of Keys, I told one of my favorite stories to some of our peers- Dimitri, Linhardt, Sothe, and Beruka. Linhardt, despite his claims to the contrary, seemed rather... frightened.” She breathes out a half-laugh. “It was honestly a bit funny, though I couldn’t help but feel a bit bad.” She pauses.

“Oh, goodness, my apologies- I’m certain you didn’t want to hear me speak about that for so long.”

[godsmercie]

⛺️ "Yaaay!" A shout, and from seemingly nowhere, Selkie pounces upon her prey, delivering the most deadly of hugs she can muster. "Mercie's here too! Hey Mercie, let's hang out! Oh, oh, I heard you can tell reaaaally good ghost stories - do you wanna go camping?"

She’d just changed into beach clothes, her sunhat keeping her face safe from the sun, her thin dress fluttering gently in the sea breeze as she breathes in the salty air when she’s tackle-hugged with all the ferocity of a hyper 6 year old in the body of an 18 year old girl, and she yelps as she falls to the ground, Selkie on top of her. She quickly dissolves into giggles, hugging the girl back as the kitsune cheers.

“Sel-Selkie! I- We’re already hanging out; why else would you be tackle-hugging me?!” she says through laughter, pushing Selkie off of her just enough that they can both sit up. “But I like to think I’m good at telling ghost stories! And I’d love to go camping- and tell them to you there- maybe we can find some of those marshmallows that we got to try at Midsommar’s to eat while I tell stories-” She laughs again, a hand going to run her fingers through the younger girl’s hair to tidy it some. “I’m sure we’ll have enough time to do a lot of fun stuff- for now, though...” Her eyes take on a mischievous glint, and her smile plays at just the edge of teasing. “Perhaps we can start by doing some fun beach games with the others?”

[godsmercie]

entre

“For your heroism, I can restore your life. But my power wanes…” The emblem, too, grows dimmer. “I will turn back the hands of time this once. Though I cannot guarantee your memories will be intact, I should hope what you retain guides you on this new path.” Warmth floods all sensation until no pain is left. Only gentle lightness. The scent of salt wafts in on a breeze. Faintly, you make out the cries of gulls and the lapping of water. “It will be some time before your bodies are returned. For now…                   I will hold you…                                            here…                                                        with me…”

The Goddess. 

Mercedes is devout- she knows full well what the crest of the Goddess looks like, that her power is far beyond mortal comprehension, and yet despite all she has seen in the strange world she found herself in-                                                     her faith wanes briefly.

The Goddess allowed Nino to die. A child, her baby bird, her-

... I can restore your life...

She gasps, scrambling to her feet with all the elegance of a foal, hardly noticing the sensation of sand beneath her feet- she only notices the flash of green in the short distance.

"Nino?! Nino, are you-" She nearly barrels down the girl in her rush to sweep her into the tightest of hugs, quickly falling to kneeling as she scoops her little bird into her arms. Tears come freely, and for a few moments, she just holds her, sobs muffled in Nino's neck as she holds on as tight as she can around Nino’s torso. 

After a few minutes, she leans back, hands moving to Nino's shoulders as she takes her in. "Nino," she says, voice shaky. Her hands move to hold Nino's cheeks in her hands. "Nino, ma fille, mon petit amour, I love you so much, Goddess almighty and Saints abive, I love you my little bird, you-” she’s interrupted by a wet sob, but keeps on. “Mon petit amour, ma fille, are you- are you okay? Are you-” her voice catches, and her grip tightens minutely. Her voice softens- turns fragile and desperate, “Are you really... here?"

                                                           @flowerofiris