Please consider Selkie but with big ole fennec ears……
we're not kids anymore.

Love Begins
Cosimo Galluzzi
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Three Goblin Art
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

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Xuebing Du
Misplaced Lens Cap
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dirt enthusiast

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AnasAbdin
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
taylor price
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tannertan36
almost home
Peter Solarz
will byers stan first human second

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@kitsuneiisms
Please consider Selkie but with big ole fennec ears……
The Perfect Storm
Some burdens weigh heaviest on the shoulders of the innocent. Injuries that couldn’t have been prevented, the loss of a loved one, bonds irreparably shattered beneath the cruel hammer of time. These thoughts may consume, drive one mad with guilt, with the thought of could have and should have.
The guilt this particular instructor found themselves reeling with was, perhaps, they might admit, less intense than some of those thoughts. However, despite each moment, each thought racking their brain, going back in time to stop their actions, those still weighed heavy on their soul.
If only they’d known, the thought occurs, flames licking at their boots as arcane sigils materialized, frost forming at their fingertips and shriveling the edges of their coat sleeve, perhaps this could have been avoided. Icy mist sprayed from their fingertips, a rain of salvation to quench the flames of chaos, panicked hands at each side struggling to salvage what remained from the pyre.
“How in the hells did this happen-” Words are cut short with a cough, smoke blasts forth in a powerful gust and knocks a nearby researcher off their feet. A green glow emanates now from the sigil on the floor, the effervescent glow of cinders fading away in turn as another gust of wind erupts forth. Once more do arcane magics surge through the instructor’s hands, glyphs forming in powerful sets as a stronger burst of frost is released, and the rune is all but fully encased in ice.
Even after the glow ceases, however, the frost consumes, on and on until there is naught left but smoke and the remnants of an all too familiar handiwork. Several assistants rise to their feet, coughing and groaning as the ash clears their lungs - their own brows furrow as the target of their anger, regret, materializes from inside the smoke, a soft cough erupting from her throat as the kitsune stepped forth.
“That... was... AWESOME! Ooh, I have to write this down - do you think the fire was too powerful? Or the wind maybe wasn’t enough - This is the best day ever! Thanks again for holding this workshop, teacher!”
Golden vulpine eyes stare brightly at the instructor, an all too familiar fanged grin spreads across Selkie’s face as her ears wiggle in delight. Hurriedly, she opens up a notebook in her hands, scrawling down notes - a sigh is exhaled, and two fingers pinch the bridge of the instructor’s nose.
Inviting Selkie to a workshop on experimental glyph design was more than likely a mistake.
It’s not ‘screwing around’ if you write it down–in the interest of better fostering the innovative spirit and academic prowess of its students, Garreg Mach will be offering a pilot workshop on experimental glyph design! Remember that any damage, whether to property or your fellow classmates, that is recorded is technically 'science’! [Grants Reason +1]
@wolfhednar
nobletoatea:
kitsuneiisms:
Affinity [Selkie & Lorenz]
“Hmm.” Lorenz nodded in greeting, still musing over the proposed theory of a natural ability regarding some elements over another. “I went to the Fhirdiad Academy myself, so it’s partly to revel in some aspect of nostalgia,” he admitted. Lorenz gestured around the room though, peering at students trying their hands at attracting an element or bending it to their will. “However, I am naturally curious. If such a thing were real- wouldn’t be already know? It’s such a significant hypothesis that I presume it would be widespread, common knowledge if such a thing existed considering how prominent magical studies are. However- everything must be discovered for a first time, so I shall gladly assist as a subject for the sake of researchers and my own personal inquisitiveness.”
Lorenz watched Selkie conjure her magic with an approving nod as the sparks from it flashed and reflected across his pupils. A small series of spells, but well controlled. “Clearly you’ve mastered what you know well, to be able to shift and manipulate it with ease and swiftness. That last one… it could be related to faith magic? I’m woefully uneducated regarding foreign practices.” He nodded again, this time more eagerly at the mention of her mother and picking up magic from her.
“Yes, I’d imagine so! Your mother must’ve been a fine teacher, but it’s widely believed, if not absolute fact, that abilities are hereditary. Fodlan’s crests aside, it’s why the scholarly pursuit of it is so closely tied to nobility. Although, sometimes commoners are suddenly born with innate talent as well out of nowhere in their family tree, so it’s difficult to say anything is for certain. My father is a powerful mage himself; it’s expected I either meet or surpass his own talent.”
He’d been so intently chatting that he’d almost forgotten they were there for an activity. “Yes, certainly! Hm.” Lorenz approached the researcher standing by the fireplace and extended his hand towards the heat, concentrating for a moment as the flame’s shap dipped toward his hand, bending in the air as he called to it internally.
“I happen to know how to use this element already, so I wonder if this effect is deliberate or passive.” Lorenz stepped back and nodded to Selkie. “Fire and lightning are related- let’s see what happens!”
“Fhirdiad Academy? I think we have a few people who went there, don’t we? I’m not from Fódlan, so I’m not too sure, and I don’t know where everyone’s from...” Knuckles rap silently at her cheek as the kitsune attempts to recall the names and faces of her classmates, though some are shrouded in a fog. “But... I guess it doesn’t matter. Even if they did already know, wouldn’t more information help too?”
Praise is met with an eager grin and a small clap on Selkie’s part, eyes twinkling nearly as much as the magic she’d displayed moments ago. “I practiced alot! Someone helped me get started a while ago - I wanna say it was Hubert? But... I kinda can’t remember... Anyway, that spell is actually Sagittae! I’m not very strong in the Faith department myself, but Reason magic is suuuper fun!”
Comments about hereditary nature and abilities are only slightly disregarded as her attention is once again pulled by the magical activities surrounding the pair. “Fire seems like it could be fun!” Golden eyes shine as, after Lorenz, Selkie outstretches her right hand towards the fire... but nothing happens. Brows furrow, free hand clenches her arm for support as her concentration intensifies, but to no avail, until finally, with a sigh, the kitsune acquiesces.
“I guess Fire just isn’t my thing. That’s okay, though! There’s way more stuff we still gotta try out - I think Wind might be my kinda thing!”
Summer Scramble
kitsuneiisms:
“But if this isn’t Adrestia…” voice trails off, brows furrow as the kitsune’s thoughts consume her. Respite, she knew, was the design of this strange resort of sea and sun, but to what purpose, from what creation, that was the question here. As much as she wanted to ask, however, a query from Dorothea herself snubs out that train of thought.
“Before I fell asleep? That’s easy - I was…I was…”
Perhaps easy was not the word Selkie should have lent out. One hand disengages from companion’s touch, knuckles rap against her cheek as thoughts and memories collide. “I was… we were in a town in Faerghus, somewhere. There was a big machine, and a creature -”
An involuntary shudder racks through the kitsune, inadvertently squeezing her companion’s hand as it passes, as the faces of her fallen comrades echo in her mind’s eye. “The whole month was pretty crazy. We made a friend, he saved our lives… and there was a voice, that said something about turning back time,” vulpine eyes flicker to the scars that near cover her left arm with a slight pause, “and Justice.”
Still trailing just behind Dorothea, her steps trod for a few moments before picking up to a faster pace, and soon she finds herself in front of the songstress, skipping backwards with a wide-eyed smile on her face. “Hey, since we’re here, do you wanna explore?”
faerghus. machine. creature. words that drift above the brimful surface of a conscious river, its depths a decrepit facade to the clean plunge towards emptiness – just how many of them faced the beasts of past, present, and future, bearing thousand-pound weights on broken shoulders and naïve resolutions? in the torpid heat, her palm grows cold. evergreen hues bore into pallid knuckles and remember.
remember droplets of sweat and how they tasted like bitter ore, remember the strain on stretched tendons within her ankles, remember the howls that shook the very stone beneath her boots––
remember the voice that always seems to be listening, even now.
“yeah,” she says, an automatic response wrenched from knotted vocal chords when the vixen squeezes her hand, “crazy month, indeed.” dark lashes flutter and, in the haste of a deep inhale, dorothea composes an expression: somewhere beyond comprehension but amicable enough, the farthest corners of her lips turned upwards. “however, what’s most important is that we’re all here now. many of our friends are just up the way.”
and the songstress fully intends to find refuge in numbers but, well…
shoulders slouch forward and straighten a moment later, hands gathering the fabric of her cover-up as she plods behind selkie. moderate-paced, a tooth-laden smile teasing plush lips, dorothea lets out a sigh that melds into somewhat of a breathy chuckle. “no harm in exploring the unknown, right?” she nods, auburn curls draped over her back. “lead the way, darling.”
indulgence in distraction never hurt anyone, after all.
— fin.
xkanjou:
⊱ to brush a foal
@kitsuneiisms Mission board: Spring is here, and so are baby pegasi! The pegasus foals are equal parts playful and skittish on their spindly legs, and they need to be trained to be groomed and led early. Their wings are too soft and downy to fly yet, but they’re still cute! [Grants Flying +1]
Cold, stoic, rough, merciless—these were merely a sample of words people would use when describing the viridian haired woman. Words with a softer meaning, such as caring or kind, were often forgotten or simply didn’t exist in their vocabulary when addressing her. It was difficult to use gentle vocabulary with Beruka—particularly when actions she took related to the expressions were, quite frankly, nonexistent.
And so the former assassin found herself in a conundrum when tasked to watch over a group of newborn foals, a group of creatures that required gentle hands and an even gentler disposition.
It wasn’t as if she had no experience caring for another creature. Beruka had cared for beasts before, having been responsible for her wyvern while serving under Lady Camilla. She understood the attention to detail required to make sure the mounts were healthy and fit for battle. However, most of the animals she had cared for were often grown or were at least able to handle some rough handling. This was the first time she was asked to watch over a rather vulnerable and delicate group of young animals and she quickly found herself hesitant in any action she was about to do.
Taking a brush in hand she reached her hand out to the nearest colt, her concentration heightened to the max as she approached the young pegasus. The foal however, perhaps frightened by the intensity of her gaze, whinnied loudly, fumbling around on unstable legs before heading towards a different section of the nursery. Beruka, her empty hand hanging in midair, slowly retracted it allowing it to fall against her side.
After rinsing and repeating the same method several times Beruka eventually decided enough was enough. It was time for some advice.
She took a quick look around, eventually spotting someone she thought might be able to give her the advice she needed (or would allow her to watch and learn). Approaching them from behind she gave them a quick tap on the shoulder, waiting until they turned around before opening her mouth to speak.
“Would you know how to catch one of the foals?”
Feathered wings flap about, high pitched whinnies fill the air causing gold-tipped ears to flick about excitedly as gentle hooves tap about beside an eager eyed kitsune. Various supplies, from brushes and combs, to polish and clippers (safely sealed, of course) fill a tote held in Selkie’s arms, a gentle tune thoughtful under the sound of the gentle breeze as she approaches the stables.
Springtime. Rainfall in abundance, bright, sunny days, blooming fields of flowers and all the rolling hills to romp around in. The change in demeanor was obvious; as playful and cheery the kitsune was normally, excitement ran abound when the cycle of seasons began anew. Even the most tedious of chores had no effect on Selkie’s mood, knowing that both sun and fun were waiting just around the corner.
Today’s task, however, was far from tedious - Selkie leapt at the opportunity, and, the moment dawn’s rays began to bless Garreg Mach, the eager girl was off, Hashiko in tow and nearly as giddy as her. Springtime means foals that need to be played with and groomed - but don’t forget the grown pegasi, too!
♪ ~ “...to an end, just whispers on the wind...” ~ ♪
Ever humming, supplies find their way to a nearby perch as she arrives at her quarry, gleeful expression abound while rummaging through for the first things she would need. So entranced is she that the footsteps behind aren’t noticed, not until another’s presence is made known through touch and sound. Selkie turns, brushes of various size held in arm, though familiar face begets a grin and nearly causes the previous object of her attention to lose hold, if only for a moment.
“Beruka! So you’re the one who’s supposed to be rounding the foals up - you sure came to the right gal. I can definitely help catch them for you - I’ve never lost a game of tag, and no baby pegasi are gonna beat me today!”
The sparkle in her eyes is near as bright as the springtime sun.
@xkanjou
nobletoatea:
Affinity [Selkie & Lorenz]
Reason +1 Starter for @kitsuneiisms
As an alumnus of the Fhrhdiad School of Sorcery, Lorenz had something of a vested interest in whatever the university published. It was seen as more of a specialist training school than anything else, second to Garreg Mach in general military preparedness but still a fundamental place of education for mages to refine their abilities. As the heir to the relic Thrysus that amplified combat magic, Lorenz’s father had naturally sent Lorenz to learn as much as he could before pushing on to the monastery.
Lorenz’s time in Fhirhdiad had been cut short by the unrest in the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. Yet, despite unable to officially finish his tutelage there and being fonder of the lusher fields of Leicester than the frigid north of Fodlan, he recalled his days there with respect and fondness.
Besides. This new theory they put forth was potentially meritorious. If one was best suited to a certain element, it would yield the most benefit to focus on said element. The same was true of any skill.
He lingered in the entryway to a classroom where a series of trials had been arranged around the perimeter of the room. A mage stood by the blazing fireplace as the obvious representation of fire, and others had their own displays of other magic such as miniature blizzard snowing into a bowl or a a ball of miasma being levitated by a dark mage, plague mask and all.
How exactly would anyone be able to test natural inclination in the first place? Lorenz paced to the center of the room, eyeing all six stations set up for students to take a gander at. He primarily knew fire and lightning Reason formulae, yet he didn’t feel a draw to anything at this range.
He turned at movement near him, someone familiar at his side. He nodded, focused but pleasant. “Ah, greetings, Selkie. Do you take any particular liking to a certain element? I can’t recall what you specialize in, if any. I myself use both fire and lightning.”
He knew who Selkie was, yet some details were woefully out of his grasp. It was unlike Lorenz, who took it upon himself to memorize facts about nobles and families he never even met, to stumble on such a block with someone he knew face to face. How odd.
What spells will you learn? Participate in a study originating from Fhirdiad’s School of Sorcery and find out your elemental affinity! All results will help further the study of magical endeavors, so contribute today!
Selkie stared longer than she cared to admit at the flyer adorning the mission board outside the dormitories. Elemental affinities, predetermined spells - back home, we didn’t bother with any of that, we used our tomes to cast any spell we wanted within reason - the concept didn’t quite connect, at first.
So she reread it. Then she read it again.
“Fhirdiad is in ... Faerghus? Right?” Finger taps against chin as Selkie stares in thought, contemplating, debating. Wandering eyes pull away to focus on anything but the poster, zigzagging scars on her wrist catch attention for a moment as her gaze lingers. There was something magical there, some kind of affinity - yet of the spells she learned, none shared a common element.
Sagittae, Bolganone, Wind - as footsteps moved from grass to stone, lingering in the doorway, hushed whispers hidden beneath breath escape. She’d felt drawn to the wind element, for sure, though trying to learn Excalibur yielded... different results than she expected.
The sight of a wooden dummy, darkness unleashed from below consuming til naught but dust remained, ingrained in the back of her mind.
A familiar face breaks her stupor, and, previous thoughts left behind, Selkie skips towards her acquaintance, purple streak in her hair near matching Lorenz’s own palette. “Hey there, Lorenz! Here for some magic studies, huh?”
Gently pursing lips respond to his inquiry, and, with right arm outstretched, small sigils form around her wrist. A small ball of fire, extinguished by the following light gust of wind, and finally replaced by a twinkling star, dancing between fingers emulating a dance one might see in a wandering circus, rather than a prestigious university. “Fire and wind, and this one doesn’t really have an element. I never really thought about ‘innate’ magic, but I guess it makes sense with the way you guys study here!”
A separate thought seems to surface, clouding her eyes for just a moment before a decision is made on the spot. “The hamlet isn’t too magically inclined, to be honest. My mom was pretty good at everything, though, so I may have picked something up from her.”
Finally she takes in the sights around, eyeing every display, and the students and faculty alike swarming each. “Hey, wanna try out together? We can go to each station together!”
Happy New Ears!
What better way to start the new (y)ear with some housekeeping!
Pre-Lock & Key threads will be dropped. If there’s anything someone would really like to finish, we can wrap it up as you’d like.
Beach threads and interactions, let me know if you’d like to finish them up, I’m definitely down to do so!
As for Selkie’s memories - aside from a lot of the finer details of Lock and Key, Selkie remembers most of the past year (Aside from muse deaths, drops and changes, and anything that would break certain characters).
Important relationships to be noted:
Edelgard: Regards her as an acquaintance in passing, feels like they could be friends
Hubert: Turn that frown, upside down! .... actually, don’t do that Hubert, it’s creepier that way. No, she doesn’t consider Hubert close, but definitely feels a connection there that could possibly deepen. Perhaps over mutual church shit talking?
Bernadetta: She doesn’t quite feel like she knows Bernie well, but definitely wants to help get her out of that shell.
Dorothea: Wow, you’re pretty. Can we be friends?
Ingrid: Selkie feels a strange sadness for her, but doesn’t quite know why.
Mercedes: Mercie! Selkie loves Mercie, and considers her one of her best friends at the Academy.
Felix: Big grump, won’t avoid him but she still feels like maybe she shouldn’t really approach.
Gaius: Slides a piece of candy under the table
When it comes to the Fates muses, Selkie considers everyone to be family. She never got to grow up in the kitsune hamlet, and considered the army to be her hamlet - as such, everyone is family, even if they’re not.
Kana: He is no longer baby, but she still protects. Very close.
Camilla: Selkie looks up to Lady Camilla, especially idolizing her fighting style and wanting to follow in her footsteps of being a Malig Knight.
Charlotte: The weird aunt who she doesn’t really talk to, but still cares about.
Corrin: She feels a bit off, since her Corrin was female, but still holds him in high regards.
Flora: She wishes Flora would play with her :c
Leo: Very little connection.
Mitama: Making friends is hard/keeping friends is harder still/pranking them is fun
Mozu: Auntie Mozu! The fun aunt who spoils her at family gatherings. Gets a hug the moment she walks in the door.
Niles: Feels as though she should be by his side more.
Siegbert: The cousin she wants to get to know, but feels like approaching would make an awkward situation.
Xander: Grump in the front, Funcle in the back.
Everyone Else: Potential friends!!!
With that, here’s to the start of a new year at TOA. Happy New Ears, everyone!
agneas:
Summer Scramble
a frigid warmth swathes the corners and plains of smooth palms, the dire comfort of woven fabric in the form of flesh – real skin, real bone, taut beneath her fingertips as the songstress squeezes her single tether to an immaterial world. though her heart dares not leap and bound, as though it bore a phobia of what lied beneath the very ribs that encased it, dorothea lends malleability to her arms, watches as her companion shares more than simple jubilance for the two of them.
“oh, is that so? i do wonder how you ended up there…” wistful is the stardust infused in her tone, dark brows furrowing to crinkle the space between them. what the soles of her boots had last touched was fractured stone, yet the luminescent heat of a beige sand falls beneath her feet – how strange, how remarkably unusual. “while it’s always a pleasure to see you, dear, i have to ask––”
(and a thousand questions flutter to the forefront of her conscience, or what remains of it; then selkie continues with her own, and dorothea comes to realization that neither of them is much more aware of the other.)
she pauses to lead the vulpine with one hand, a lazy trod from the nearby shore toward the western horizon – the resort itself was never far, but it never quite seemed near either. “do you remember anything before you fell asleep on the sand? i do, slightly–– but quite frankly, it’s all a haze.” with that single hand free, it totes a nonsensical line into the air, invisible words to accentuate those that fall from her lips. “to answer yours, i don’t know where we are.”
though, the mention of adrestia draws out some laughter, and dorothea guffaws, “don’t be silly, darling–– adrestia is all stone walls and city. at least, the parts of it that i’ve seen.” a small huff and another pause, shorter this time. “this… this is just an odd paradise.”
“But if this isn’t Adrestia...” voice trails off, brows furrow as the kitsune’s thoughts consume her. Respite, she knew, was the design of this strange resort of sea and sun, but to what purpose, from what creation, that was the question here. As much as she wanted to ask, however, a query from Dorothea herself snubs out that train of thought.
“Before I fell asleep? That’s easy - I was...I was...”
Perhaps easy was not the word Selkie should have lent out. One hand disengages from companion’s touch, knuckles rap against her cheek as thoughts and memories collide. “I was... we were in a town in Faerghus, somewhere. There was a big machine, and a creature -”
An involuntary shudder racks through the kitsune, inadvertently squeezing her companion’s hand as it passes, as the faces of her fallen comrades echo in her mind’s eye. “The whole month was pretty crazy. We made a friend, he saved our lives... and there was a voice, that said something about turning back time,” vulpine eyes flicker to the scars that near cover her left arm with a slight pause, “and Justice.”
Still trailing just behind Dorothea, her steps trod for a few moments before picking up to a faster pace, and soon she finds herself in front of the songstress, skipping backwards with a wide-eyed smile on her face. “Hey, since we’re here, do you wanna explore?”
"Myyy what a lovely tail you have!" She is right out of the gates with a compliment, quill in her hands. "I'm Sharena, and it's a pleasure to meet you! Would you sign my..." A pause and her eyes roam her own body before she turns around, holding the quill out to Selkie, and uses her other hand to point to her back. "Back, sign my back! I'm a little bit ticklish, so be careful, please."
Sharena, Selkie’s sure she’s seen this one before - and she likes her already! Bubbly demeanor, bright green eyes sparkling even as she starts out with what seems like a flirt, or maybe she just had a good eye; after all, Selkie took excellent care of her tail, and it was something people should notice!
“Hehe - nice to meet you, Sharena! I think I’ve seen you around back at the Monastery!”
Selkie reaches out, quill stuck between two fingers reminding her of the sensation of hunting agile birds in the forest. In fact, as she hunts down a good spot to sign, it’s not too different, she thinks, all things considered.
An elegant swish, not too rough, her name spelled out in both Hoshidan and the native language, before Selkie stretches the quill out in return. “Are you doing that contest thing, too? Good luck! I think Lorenz already got ten signatures though - I was number ten! Do you think I’ll get a prize, too?”
🌴 "Selkie. You are strong, correct?" Mitama did not look at her friend as she spoke, focusing instead on a particular branch of the tree with great intent. "Should I wish to find myself amidst the leaves of this tree, would you be able to aid me in such a task?"
send 🌴 to climb trees with my muse
That even Mitama found her way here was a testament to the bonds that held all together in this strange land. Standard coat left behind, Selkie adorns a swimsuit of teal and flowers, though present circumstance lead her away from wondrous waves. Knuckles rap softly against her cheek, eyes focused, swapping between trees and poet as her query is pondered.
Finally, after moments, she speaks. “That would be correct./Those trees are no match for me/I can help you up!”
Fingers interlock, arms held low to boost Mitama as she might need; the grin on her face is evident of just how satisfied the kitsune is with herself.
agneas:
Summer Scramble
I will hold you… here… with me…..
bound by the interminable.
it’s almost ironic, discordant harmonies and caustic lyrics – once tied back by limited chains, the trepidation of a titanium dynasty held over a glass foundation, dorothea finds the taste of liberation noxious. had she not gazed into the heavens dyed carmine, grasping at broken constellations for a semblance of promise? was she not bound then, too – flesh and bone fettered to the earth, as eternity became finite? but the horizon seems to go on for miles, for decades, a picture of serenity.
she can’t decide which is worse.
the brim of her hat (wide, heavier than she one she lost) guards from the reflection of a marigold sun in the morning tide, inquisitive eyes focused on the drifting water. it wets her feet as their soles sink further into the sand; dorothea wiggles her toes, tilts her head – how strange.
but a disembodied voice draws her out from unconscientious experiments and ambient thought, meters from the ocean but nowhere in plain sight. it’s familiar, warm, a bright timbre reminiscent of burgundy satin and cheerful introductions–– “oh–– selkie, darling, is that you?” and dorothea calls back, a hand bunching fabric in her palm as she steps into crumbling sand, away from the tranquil shore. “where are you?”
blessed with a bit of luck, and the unique sight of fox’s ears, the search falls short of true excitement; in truth, dorothea stares at the other girl for a moment, as if mesmerized. how did they end up in the same place? how did they all?
“hey,” crouching, the songstress reaches to pat a bit of excess sand caught on fur, “are you okay? did someone bury you in the sand?”
Selkie knew that smell was familiar, as grains of hazel remove themselves from her fur, coarse and rough even as the kitsune shakes free of the faux bed she’d found herself in. Harmony reaches her ears, confirming suspicions and detracting attention from the dire situation escaped not an hour earlier, dandelion ears spring into sight as balance is restored with the purchase of bare feet in the sand.
“Dorothea! Ohmigosh, it’s sososo sooooo good to see you!” Eager hands grasp at the songstress’ palms, bouncing more like a rabbit than the vulpine appearance she shared as a hint of rose colours her cheeks. “I’m fine! I think I just dozed off in the sand, until you woke me up!”
But Dorothea’s voice was a cadence, honeysuckle and tulips floating along a melody of an afternoon breeze, reminiscent of the scent left behind by spring showers; the song that awoke her was dissonant, wilted leaves, torn curtains, yes, no, you should know better, do better, tears left behind by muddy boots and broken dreams in a far off deeprealm.
“Anyway, I’m so excited to see you! I think I already said that, but I was wondering if we’d ever see anyone from the monastery again! Speaking of, why aren’t we at the monastery? Where are we, anyway?”
Once more do golden eyes scamper away, finally, truly taking in the sights around them, the scent of salty air wafting in from the deep, lush foliage and trees she’d never seen before clouding the path leading away from her extemporary resting spot.
“Is this Adrestia? Oooh, I’ve always wanted to go!”
"Hey, Lorenz? Why are you trying to get people to sign your arm?" Selkie raises from her seat in the sand, castle immediately forgotten in favor of the new topic of interest. "Is it a game or something?"
“It is,” he admitted. Lorenz’s arms and chest, thanks to Dorothea, all bore ink from nine different sources. He smiled ruefully.
“I think I’ve learned something. A genuine word of honesty is far better than any flowery flattery. I used to think I needed to put myself far out there to get attention, woo ladies, ensnare a lover...” He paused and did a full 360 degree check around him. Selkie couldn’t have known, but he was keeping an eye out for a magenta braid and drawn bow. “...but being polite, and nothing more, is best for public health. My health, mainly.”
Lorenz held out a quill. “If you want to be my tenth signature, you can sign anywhere you like!”
Her head tilts slightly as he talks, attention thoroughly fixed on Lorenz, especially as he does his little twirl. Ear twitches, a soft smile, “Yeah! I dunno about other people, but I hate lying, so people who are honest get my attention way more!”
The lover comment is ignored, perhaps out of naivety, or simply willful ignorance, “I’d love to be your tenth signature! Was it ten you had to get? Oh, that means you win because of me! Do I get a share in the prize? Is there a prize? I’m so excited!”
Tail near wagging, eyes shine as she takes the quill with delight. She combs him over, trying to find the best spot, searching until... “Ah-hah!” Eagerly her hand clasps his side for stabilization, and, with a surprisingly elegant flourish, her name is written in two languages on his back, accompanied by a little doodle of a fox on the side!
“There ya go! Hey, can I come with you to claim the prize? Can I? Pleeeeeease?”
Past Alight
(Continued from here)
Waves crash, break along the shoreline yet become mere whispers upon reaching land, gentle caress accompanies the cold as water envelops her feet, her ankles, then recedes to start the cycle anew. It’s almost comforting, and the touch of ironic comparison isn’t lost on the kitsune. “Something like that,” the words finally escape as she returns to her natural seated position, eyes fixated on the water.
Starlight dances among the waves, brow furrowing as words form, crest in her breast yet collapse, breaking, diminishing into foam before they can reach her tongue. How, how is it that events so monumental could become mere fog in the recess of her mind?
𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑔𝑢𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑐𝑡
How is it that the ache in her chest could become so foreign, yet still so alive? Eyes drift down to her left arm, fingers sprawled amidst sand, every inch of forearm covered in dark scars; hateful eyes lock with hers, a guttural laugh, fangs gnash ; is the lingering pain a memory, a phantom, or is it real, here and now?
“This path month has been pretty crazy. I still dunno if this is a dream, if you’re a dream, but I like to think this is real. A nice break after everything we’ve been through.” His pensive state had not gone unnoticed, and Selkie could tell there was something on her friend’s mind. At least... she liked to think they were friends.”I bet you’ve had the time of your life, huh?”
“When I’m alone, it’s all... it’s almost clear as day, you know? But the moment I try to talk to someone, or write it down, everything just goes fuzzy.”
Hesperos. Eos. Eos... Eos... She didn’t really interact with them, didn’t know them like the others did. How had they interacted? What was the third? Eos... Aeos? Aeschylus! A sigh of relief, it’s not gone yet, he’s not gone yet. They’re not gone yet. If a hero falls in a forest, yet none are around to remember, was he ever truly there?
“It’s a lot to think about. How’re you?”
The beach is completely empty save for the characters who have wound up here thanks to some strange, divine power. No employees, no tourists, nothing. There’s a house large enough to fit everyone, but you find that you need neither sleep nor food while you’re here. When you walk a certain distance along the shoreline, your vision begins to grow hazy and you wind up back where you began.
Still, there are few things to be done in this strange purgatory…
ASK MEMES
send 🎣 to put together a makeshift fishing rod and pass the time catching fish with my muse
send 👀 to accidentally catch my muse changing clothes
send 🏃 to explore the boundaries of this world with my muse
send 🌴 to climb trees with my muse
send 🌊 to watch the ocean and reflect with my muse
send 🏊♂️ to go swimming with my muse
send ⛺️ to escape the crowded house and go camping with my muse
send 💯 to ask my muse to teach yours how to swim
send ♨️ to discover hot springs with my muse
send 🎆 to put on a fireworks display with my muse
send 💫 to go stargazing with my muse
send 🌙 to go dancing in the moonlight with my muse
send 🍽 to experiment in the kitchen with my muse
send 🥂 to drink with my muse
send 🦀 to go crab hunting with my muse
send 🏖 to go sunbathing with my muse
send 🌧 to be caught in a sudden storm with my muse
send 🔥 to gather around a bonfire with my muse
send ⚔️ to spar with my muse
send 🏐 to play a game with my muse
send 🦞 to ask my muse to care for your muse’s sunburn
send 🛶 to make/use a boat with my muse
send 🏰 to build a sandcastle with my muse (or just play in the sand)
send 🐠 to go looking for wildlife in the surf with my muse
send 🏹 to go hunting in the forest with my muse
Or make up your own!
Summer Scramble
I will hold you... here... with me.....
“Five more minutes...”
A snore escapes, tossing about as shes rolls over to her side.
It is past time for you to wake up, young lady! A princess does not sleep on the sand like that!
“Tsukiiiii...”
Arm flails about, reaching for her blanket, but the cloth is just so sneaky, always tries to run in the morning. Warmth bathes Selkie’s face, is it usually this warm in the morning? What a day, both arms reach further, clawing at nothing,
but sand,
warm, dry, sand
“...Tsuki?”
Tsuki?
Sand?
Was Garreg Mach always so near to the beach?
Memories flood back, eyes shoot wide open as Selkie springs to her feet, left arm reaching for her weapons, wait, left arm? Wasn’t it, wasn’t she, didn’t Thales -
Thales?
Breath racing, slowly, arm rises into vision - halfway down, just past her elbow, a large, jagged scar, burns trailing upward from the mark, acid? fire?
Crunch, snap, run, you’ll die if you stay, panic almost sets in, ears twitch and focus on the sound of waves breaking. Finally her setting registers; a beach, reminiscent of that deeprealm so far gone. There are others nearby, she can smell them, but her eyes are transfixed by the ocean so clear, stress, phantom pain melting away. Finally, her head turns away, and Selkie lets out a call.
“Hello? Anyone there?”
@agneas
Justice RIP
It seems like hours, she stands there. Overlooking, watching, remembering, failing, struggling.
It won’t be too hard to get back. The monastery is in the center of Fódlan, right? Just figure out where the sun rises, figure out west, and fly inward. If you see a town, stop and get help, send someone our way.
Hashiko nearly stayed; she cried and whinnied her heart out, but the kitsune refused to budge, feet planted firmly in place not like she could bring herself to walk away. The beats of airborne wings, freedom, home sound out, soften as they ring out into the distance and, ultimately, stop.
Silence is her companion; those who stayed don’t speak, and she doesn’t speak to them. What could be said that could help, words serving only to tear open wounds freshly sewn. Vulpine hands cling to the remains of her limb, thoughts in other places, continents, worlds.
It goes unnoticed, at first. The cold encroaching on her heart overpowers any warmth, and Selkie finds it impossible to speak, to focus on anything but the tragedy before them.
“ 𝑇𝘩𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝘩𝑜 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑒 ” fog broken through, attention thoroughly hooked, “ 𝑤𝑖𝑠𝘩 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑦𝑒𝑑 .”
Gold flicks over to companions, each captured by a similar sense of amazement - and light, ever growing, ever flowing ever reaching, encompassing each body, the snow, her thoughts -
The ground disappears, swallowed whole into the abyss -
“Who are you? Where - where are we going? Are we leaving them behind?!”
Azura, Niles, Ingrid, 𝐴 𝑒 𝑠 𝑐 𝘩 𝑦 𝑙 𝑢 𝑠
They’re falling behind, left behind, gone, gone
“ 𝐼𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑠 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑟𝑖𝑔𝘩𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝘩𝑜𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢.”
gone
The voice speaks, doesn’t register to the kitsune whose only thoughts are of home and days gone, of allies gone and allies yet to be saved.
“ ...𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑓𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑠. “
Five realities? Different worlds?
Was this not her home?
Was Fódlan never...
“... 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝘩𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑖𝑠𝑚, 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑠… “
Hope?
“... 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑔𝑢𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑐𝑡 ... 𝘩𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑤𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ...”
But as long as they come back...
As the darkness overpowers, as sensation fades, Selkie can’t help the small smile that spreads on her face.
“Yeah, sure. What’s another go-around after everything?”
cynthero:
pyrphóros –& a justice paralogue
Third Act, following Unbound:
☆ — she doesn’t think there are any heroes that are actually happy. not really. not in the way that all the stories made them out to be. not anymore. she thinks of chrom, left behind with an entire halidom to guide in the absence of emmeryn, who leapt into death’s waiting arms to protect them. she thinks of lucina, with only the falchion and the failure of a generation of heroes that were venerated in their memories. she thinks of sumia and gaius and of the child they left behind. heroes, she thinks. what did being selfless do except get you a lifetime of troubles and being left to the mercy of whatever decided you lived or died?
she thinks of aeschylus now, who did not turn away when his truths became lies and whose death came in trying to prevent theirs. she thinks of him, as snow ( it’s gray, slushy ) crunches beneath her boots, her hand pressed against her chest as the dull throbbing of a few broken ribs becomes excruciating when the adrenaline fades. where was his happy ending? where were the parades to be thrown in his honor, the cries of joy to be heard in the loudness of his absence?
’ WHAT PURPOSE DOES THIS DESTRUCTION SERVE? ’
her eyes turn to the wreckage of the village that was. the inn where they had slept just the night before, now reduced to a pile of rubble and destruction. watches as pent runs, digs out the two that they had saved. she wonders why it feels like home.
feathery wings suddenly occupy her vision, the soft clop of buttercup’s horseshoes hitting the torn path beside her. she lifts her eyes to the pegasus, allowing a small smile to surface as cynthia’s hand comes to rest against her muzzle. for once, she does not retreat. instead, bunny sneaks her head beneath the pegasus knight’s arm. cynthia leans against her. “i know."
’ WHAT OF YOUR PROMISES? ’
agate falls on her allies, battle-worn and beaten black and blue. she looks at the ones that fell and didn’t get up again. ( azura, niles, ingrid. she’d have to make sure that they were remembered in all this. ) cynthia almost wants to apologize for not being stronger or faster or smarter. but, it doesn’t mean anything. if she had been, would she have been able to save them? had she been too selfish this time? too concerned with the fighting that she’d forgotten to protect like she promised she would? how will she tell the people they loved that they were gone? she’d thought before that saying they’d fought until the very end was comforting.
but, what did that mean, when it was the person who survived that told the tale? how did you tell them that their life mattered, but not enough for her to give in exchange of her own? — had she given them their best opportunity to survive? if she had just been more, just been better —
’ WHO ARE YOU LIBERATING? ’
cynthia finds aeschylus, still wrapped in his dark cloak. still, just as she had left him before she’d gone to fight again. she kneels. his tunic is soaked in the dark blood that she had so readily spilled when she’d thought it appropriate to justify the frelian prince’s death. an eye for an eye, a life for a life. she hadn’t felt any better then when she killed them and she didn’t feel any better now. he was always pretty quiet. although, she supposes anyone’s pretty quiet when you compare them to her. she talked too much, but she can’t think of anything to say now.
should she call him a hero? that he bought them much needed time? should she tell him that they were okay? should she tell herself that he’s still alive, even when she felt his pulse fading? ( he wouldn’t hear her. ) her vision blurs and cynthia scrubs furiously at her eyes because she’s not allowed to cry. she wasn’t even as close with him as she’s sure hesperos was or even like professor pent and she can’t cry. it’s not her loss to cry about except that it is and she’s crying because it is and she hates it because if he just stayed down then he’d still be alive and instead, he’s here. dead. cold. alone. dead. cold. alone. dead. cold. alone.
’ — THIS IS NOT JUSTICE! ’
justice, he says. said.
what a fucking joke.
It’s over.
Feathers fall as four white hooves connect with the ground, snow crunching under weight that had long since earned its rest. Slowly, carefully, her charge descends from saddle, nearly falling as she reaches the ground; balance, wounds, distress, the reason mattered not.
So they found Niles.
“...I should have done more. I’m sorry.”
Cautious steps, slow, light, the breaking tide ever closer with each movement. She steadies herself, golden locks catch attention alongside azure and ivory twice over.
Justice.
Balance finally gives way once the kitsune reaches her charge, knees colliding with snow and muck, tar and gravel beneath it all, the sting a constant reminder that this is real, it’s not a dream, there is no waking up. One hand hovers, hesitant, closure just as frightening as the beast that tore worlds apart, but Selkie pushes on, she has to push on, she always pushed on, never backed down, always on the front lines, should have been on the front lines, should have been closer,
Never with these injuries, against a foe like this, with this situation, with civilians around - nothing to be done, nothing could have been done.
Determination breaks a mask of fear and loneliness, ice where skin should be, silence where songs once rang
The silence stays, she says nothing, what could she say? There’s no justice in it.
Lost in thoughts all alone
Not alone, not anymore.
“Azura...”
This could be said.
“Thank you. You protected us again... you protected everyone again, with your life. You... you shouldn’t have had to, but you did. I’m sorry.”
It would have to do; work to be done, homes to be found, lives to be destroyed.
She almost lifts with her left arm; stops, examines, almost laughs.
Almost.
Carefully, one arm reaches underneath, Azura’s weight shifted onto her shoulder; she stumbles, a moment, but catches herself. It still hurts, but it could be worse. It always could be worse. Smile, because it could be worse.
“You didn’t... we didn’t have anything to bury, last time,” a pained sigh as eyes of dandelion finally raise from the ground, weary, crimson overtaken. “I’ll take you home.”
It’s the least she could do.