Black Knight @lionscion - Tumblr Blog

Posts

OOC // Rules Update #2

(aka the post where I discuss the group's activity rules update)

#⚔casual mode (ooc)

thelightofcreation

Raging Song and Encore

thelightofcreation

It’s slow, but uninterrupted, before the glow of white magic manifests itself in the world just as a second strike hits him, the swordsman faster- always faster, always stronger- but unable to break the casting of the spell. A kick, too, just as the orbs of light descend upon the world.

Destroy him, as he is trying to destroy you.

As they do, he stumbles backward, covering his eyes from the dust that rises, though it matters little either way. It is not as though they are focused- either on his opponent or the battle, and he pulls his tome tighter to his chest, unwilling to part with it.

Mantle continues to prove itself, time and again, the injuries inflicted causing sting but nothing near what the damage should be without it. Just in case- he raises his hand to send another, weaker blast of magic where the swordsman last stood.

Two strikes, in response to the two that he had been given.

lionscion

"Magic indeed..."

Ares was sure of that now, as well as its impenetrability, thoughts exhaling through his nose as an agitated huff that rode down his dust-veiled shadow. Older ones came to fill their place at the same time, borne from within throbbing muscles that finally recognized the sting of their own strength being bounced back as more familiar than he'd realized.

The lack of a big shield waving in front of his face had kept him too distracted to notice, but amidst the settling dust he saw it clearly now. This mage's frail and slight shadow was identical to the hulking fortresses of armor he faced in Jugdral. Not even Mystletainn ever managed to cut through the glow of their shield... yet he had felled them all the same in the end.

The instant Ares remembered how, at the same time another round of dim balls of magic gathered above the mage's tome, his freshly battered figure settled.

Flashes of their arc reflected off his blade as they traced down the length and closed in on its wielder, then kicked up a fresh plume of rubble upon connecting.

But when the dust cleared again, nothing but the ground would be sporting any new marks. Their target had already lunged from that spot well before they grazed that stone, broad side of his blade locked up in a double handed grip wound far behind his back.

The resulting spin it produced when he stepped back into the mage's space was plenty fierce, and lacking the restraint that had bound his last strike, yet it wasn't meant to obliterate, or cut or stab. Its sole purpose was only to launch.

Colliding with that magic shield again came with a deep 'CLONG!' that reverberated right up into his teeth, but as with the metal ones in Jugdral, nothing was keeping either bolted to the earth. His full and unfettered strength tossed both with ease, working in tandem with gravity to do the brunt of the damage for him.

Ares wasn't looking for any damage on the outside though. He knew, upon crashing back down from any height, that there would be none to see. It was what was inside that he was counting on, breaking into a casual jog in search of a closer look at other various hints the body might offer. Wobbling legs or stumbling gait. Harder breaths or dilated eyes.

Anything that might betray the havoc wrought upon soft flesh slamming against the inside of its own impregnable shell.

Sometimes the armors' shields would falter just enough for an opening. Sometimes they'd simply collapse from the exhaustion before anything else.

Ares simply had to wait for one or the other, although there was also a third this time.

"Are you sane yet?" Ares called after the mage, pace trickling from a jog to a saunter just short of where the mage landed to offer him one chance at proving so before he finished closing the remaining gap. By then, when he still saw none --

-- 'CLONG!'

Again and again the same few steps, prepared to bounce him all the way to the village outskirts, until he got the right answer.

#((Yes Ares is slightly off about Mantle's mechs but he isn't all seeing))#((Just knows it's magic x) ))#((originally wanted to also reference his intent being removing Sephiran to a more isolated location))#((But then I remembered that this isn't the first time Ares has dealt with units that can neutralize even his strongest attacks))#((so I decided to tie it back into flavoring how it might have looked for Ares to abuse Pursuit and Adept to--))#((--brute force past Big Shield spammers in a battle of attrition in-universe))#((just couldn't finagle fitting both weh ))#((epitome of square peg round hole-ing his problems as usual))#((but tbf he's a min maxed specialist unit; he's got only a few but big things going for him lol))#((so it makes sense he'd have become creative in how to apply em to many different scenarios))

lionscion

Bruin' Up Some Buffoonery || Ares & Leif

((Cont from here))

diadic

What was the fastest and simplest way to make use of all this food to make up for lost time? That had been the thought racing through Leif's mind at the time before he had gotten a flour sack tossed his way.

He had looked down at it, baffled more than anything, aiming a pointed stare at Ares before he replied:

“ ...Alright. ”

There was no thanks, too prideful for it but not too prideful to see the logic. Up it went, rubbed against his hair—

“ You had a sizeable hunt too though, ” Leif recalls it now. “ If you had left me alone, your amount could've covered most of the army if you used it smartly. ”

—and once Leif had gotten it dry enough, he shook the last bit of moisture out that he could messily, but it still wasn't enough. As the time went on to cook, Leif staying true to his word that they ought not to interfere with one another's business, the cold that had taken hold of him had transformed into something different.

Fish mostly done, with all that was left was to wait for it to broil, Leif had begun to clean up, moving forward even to wiping the excess water he had brought in trailing behind him.

But his vision had begun to blur. He had begun to move slower.

The damage had already been done.

“ I know you didn't like me and I didn't like you. You could have abandoned me and looked better in Lord Seliph's eyes. ”

lionscion

"And what would I have gained from the favor of someone I wanted to bury my sword in?" Ares scoffed back with a shake of his head, taking a few steps ahead to scan between the two forking paths before them. "Or squandering more than what supplies our petty feud had already cost us all?" Nevermind the fact that Seliph, as Ares knew now, wouldn't have awarded it with praise anyway after thinking about the context for longer than 2 seconds.

He tossed a wave over his shoulder to gesture Leif to follow him down the downhill path, flush with deeper greens than its counterpart, while turning partway to offer Leif a small and slanted frown.

"If anyone made no sense that day, it was you." Elaboration only needed to be kept to the knowing look he exchanged with Leif, who now offered a perfect contrast to his sickly pallor Ares had centered in his mind's eye.

In just the short hours Ares had kept his attention on cooking, followed by cleaning while their combined efforts simmered in a large pot, it had utterly claimed every inch of him. So much so that when Ares finally caught sight of him again as he rounded his makeshift cleaning rag along the corner of the counter, he'd thought a starving soldier had been beckoned in by the scent. Then the familiarity of such sluggish movements had put a different face in his mind, before shorter hair and eyes too childish to belong to so noble a Lady finally put him onto the right name.

"What was in that water to slow you down like that?"

Hindsight only added to how strange it was for even a chill to grip Leif like that had, but Ares already had an inkling of it back then too.

Something that could leave that brat wobbling more than multiple battles' worth of his own vicious blows was always going to stick out to Ares. Whether a boon or bane, he was always going to seize whatever it was. This one had just happened to be with his hand, firmly grasping a fistful of the back of Leif's shirt.

"Get out," Ares had clipped, "Before you deliver your plague upon the entire army." Leif could either hobble away quietly, or take his complaints up with the single hand Ares needed to shove him across the floor. Compared to the force they were both familiar with Ares bearing against him, this would have been light, but still plenty to ignore most kinds of protest Ares estimated Leif could muster before he'd finished herding him to the kitchen threshold in one way or another.

"I'll handle the rest," Ares had said with one final shove to fully thrust him past the opened door, "just keep your distance from the others."

A kitchen door slamming firmly shut punctuated the end of Ares' stern command, yet even as its echo blew past Leif and down the stone halls, it somehow lacked the weight of the usual vitriol they exchanged.

"That it never spread beyond you is still a surprise," Ares mused as he stretched an arm out to adjust the strap crossing his chest. "Fool's luck or not, we should be grateful."

#((*inhales slowly* BOI))#((how do you loop it back to Seliph when even Ares had yet to bring it up this time))#((like ok the beef started because of him but.))#((tbc I left it up to you wrt if Leif would be dragged out like a cat or not))#((since I wasn't sure what would be ok or which path Leif would take beyond us agreeing the endpoint is “Ares kicks him out”))#((lmk if this needs rewritten anywhere please))

frigidsurge

The steps to knowing one another

cont from .

frigidsurge

Maybe it is rude to think that, but the dance felt dreadfully boring.

It might be because she agreed to it as a form of favor, so her heart wasn't in it.

Maybe it was the polished and clean-cut way every motion would fall together exactly as they were meant to be.

King of Agustria she should have figured it out earlier; the only reason he is doing any of this is that he is a king.

A king that barely knew what nobility was.

"This might be a strange question."

Her voice is firm, unlike her usual timid shy squeaks.

What is she actually playing at? She wonders as she purposefully messes the steps up not letting go of his hand for a pirouette instead grasping them tighter.

It is naive and arrogant the way she antagonizes a man far above her power one seen by her land as blessed by gods.

She distantly remembers the consequences spurring his hostility could bring upon Freege but how is she supposed to turn back?

"I know those days are long long past and you where very young but-"

She cuts off still hesitates acting frantic is she trying to do him a favour?

Is she sacieting some hard to identify curiosity of hers?

Maybe she is just bitter and trying to hurt them both?

That would be funny.

A single exxadareted breath she lets go of his hands all pretences of dance abandoned on her side.

"When i was little i hated dancing the tutor would had me repeat those boring motions in the air tired of teaching my cousins first and unintrested in my whiny self

lets not even mention actual balls all t

He boys where taller and didnt really want to be there so they would take it out on me by being clumsy stepping on my toes and squeezing my hands too tight."

What is she even babling about?

Tonight is so strange it seems as if her brain no longer knew how to keep subjects straight.

A complete mess.

"But in those moments id always remember how i once tried to get my mother to dance when i heard some party we werent expected to attend above.

Im sorry I think what im trying to say is well it is hard to be a good ruler for that hard to define mass called the citizens of your country or duchy if you help an old lady carry things and she thanks you the happiness at helping her wont be a grand thing at least i think so it would be simply human kindness not a kings duty.

Im not making any sense am I?

I am scared, terribly scared of those expectations It's hard to find motivation sometimes, but then I try to remind myself, Mother wouldn't want me to give up, and well I very well expect your parents would be the same."

lionscion

By the end of Tine's whirlwind across the dancefloor, she would be able to look up and find sand coating every new wrinkle in Ares' mussed clothes.

It was either that or allowing the bizarre girl's sudden fit to take them both down for a tumble right in the middle, which he was sure would have collected a massive pile-up of other confused dancers for the trouble. The wave of side-eyes and snarky murmurings kicked up in their wake was still a much better alternative, among two that both still chafed him. just as much sand coating him as there were wrinkles in his scowl leveled at her.

It was lucky for him that the crowd cared more about the music than his mishaps. The moment was forgotten quick enough as they moved onto the next song and away from the sidelines, where Ares was now leveling a sharp scowl at his partner.

"I have no idea what game you are playing, but I offered you a dance, not to be your fool." He crossed his arms with a small huff, sand trickling from his hair. "If you're trying to make some point, make it plain."

#((sorry Tine he was too busy trying to not eat shit to process anything of what you're saying))#((you also tried to demonstrate what you were trying to say in prolly the worst way to him :pensive: ))

diadic

if the bluebird sings

⤷ pre-boel conversation.

diadic

There was no room to doubt that Ares paid Leif plenty of mind, regardless of his differing opinions. It harkens back to an old conversation the two had once, a dismal time after Leif had felt lost on understanding others and Ares revealed the sacrifices he had felt, knowing the one he loved's words had fell on his deaf ears once.

Such attentiveness must have been born of regret then— an earnest attempt to do right where once one was wrong. To that end, Leif knows he ought to be grateful to Lene.

Would Lene forgive him for encouraging activities like this? He never knew the dancer well and couldn't say one way or another for certain. But on one hand he wondered...

“ You're not wrong. But sometimes people need a lie to make the truth real. ”

With how she behaved, putting on a show for others as her primary job in the army, did she understand this point just as much as he did? Was it her out of anyone in Lord Seliph's army who would know if he were to say such a thing aloud to them?

“ That's the point of stories and heroes, I've been told. We do things to give people hope, and so then they pitch in because of it. We're helped by them as much as they look to us. ”

And if Lene really did understand, would she have wanted Leif to tell Ares this all?

“ That's what the Battle of the Eagle and Lion's point is this year. I feel it, ” Leif concludes. “ If you want me to cover for you, I will, Ares. But think on it, alright? ”

Where did Leif get on lecturing Ares? It feels odd to do so, knowing their age difference and how much Leif felt he struggled as a royal still. Perhaps he was the wrong person for this job, and perhaps a bit of this was just a little bit of a lie too.

A pretty little thing said to fulfill one's end: in this, the thing necessary to give an invitation to appease the part of his soul that finds himself missing the Black Knight, lest he find it too childish to say outright.

lionscion

"...Lie?"

If Leif had chosen any other word to build his argument on, it might have cast the rest of it in a light that didn't make Ares bristle when repeating it. Instead, it instantly tainted the whole foundation; spread into everything Leif added to it afterwards, and each part only heightened the discomforting feeling sparked from that first initial word, which then came to rest against his chest.

The worst part of it was this deep sense of familiarity in that pressure, but this time there was a sense of...something more. Something in the rest of Leif's logic had triggered it, a ripple of new suggestions and possibilities that brushed against the boundaries of his conscious. Things and places Ares hadn't visited in a long time, let alone never would've thought to string along the same track together, briefly stirred beneath. In the moment, Ares could only feel it as something particularly tender, and driving the reflexive disdain he felt at Leif's idea.

But before Ares could put any voice to a proper refusal, or any questions that might have helped clarify what Leif meant, the foreman's voice was booming over the both of them.

"Was the bell not loud enough for ya?!" He called, waving an arm down for Ares. "Get over here!"

The command forced their conversation to an end on the spot, and Ares' subsequent absence at Gronder Field communicated the answer well enough. All that Leif was left with from Ares for a conclusion was that single question, along with a narrowed and probing stare.

--END

#((ooh boy Leif could not have picked a worse way to phrase that first sentence lmao))#((bestie accidentally touched on something very sensitive he hasnt sorted out yet :pensive: ))#((I get Leif was trying to liken it to a performance if I understood correctly but Ares doesn't see performances/stories like that--))#((--especially for a guy who leans on every word of his mother's stories of his dad as truth; so he doesn't make that connection))#((essentially Leif connecting the concept of lies to HEROES to hope to it spurring ppl into WORKING FOR THEM--))#((--is gonna invoke Javarro not Lene; albeit on a level he again hasn't consciously sorted out yet in full--))#((--hence me leaving the reference to it vague--))#((--bc it's a lot to revisit and unravel; but this scraped at it and his psyche doesn't like it))#((originally this was much longer but I realized the idea of it just leaving on this sense of 'oopsie' with Ares not saying much--))#((--and questioning like that did more work destroying Leif's argument--))#((--and showing exactly the part that chafes with Ares/convinces him not to go--))#((--and also felt a lil more interesting to maybe leave him thinking))#((anyway ty for the thread!))

diadic

boys will be boys

⤷ post-battle of the eagle and lion interaction.

virtuoustyrfing

Is he interrupting something? That thought crosses Seliph's mind for the first time during this conversation. He looks at Ares, then Prince Leif, and places the remaining juice box on the nearest flat surface. Without context, Ares' remark about odd speech makes little sense to him...

But before he can ask about it, the Black Knight's hand sneaks up on his cousin. Seliph watches the exchange unfold in confused amusement.

For his part, Seliph is willing to believe the black eye was merely a result of some unfortunate accident. He would've accepted the explanation that nothing unusual had happened during Ares' match. If not for an item falling at an inconvenient (or convenient?) time, that is.

It takes him a few seconds to register that the item in question is a frilly parasol. And apparently, it belongs to Ares. While Seliph is far too kind to laugh at his friend's misfortune, that doesn't stop him from raising his eyebrows at the man.

"By all means, explain, Ares." A smile plays on Seliph's lips as he tilts his head ever-so-slightly to the left. He gestures at the parasol, "I'm sure there's a perfectly ordinary tale involving this parasol."

He addresses his cousin next, "Don't you think so, too, prince?"

His tone is light.

next: @diadic

diadic

“ Huh? And what is so odd about my speech?? ” Leif asks without a shred of irony, before the top of his head is assaulted by the most terrifying of all attacks— a noogie. “ Hey!!! ”

And what was this about Diarmuid?! He is truly lost in this conversation now, but what he protests more is the playful mussing up of his hair, and he almost forgets in the moment that Lord Seliph still watches.

When he remembers, however, Leif pouts and shoots a glare towards the Black Knight, only slightly more serious than the man's own lighthearted attack. His pride will recover from this, but...

(He does wish it wasn't in front of Lord Seliph.)

But between them, pride might be the very thing that they cannot keep a hold on, because as Ares tries to move on and sweep aside the matter of what happened to his face, the fates are crueler, and out comes the parasol to force Ares's mouth to backpedal.

Payback time.

“ Ordinary? In the middle of a battle? ” Leif kicks the parasol up into the air, letting it spin briefly before he catches it with the hand of his that had been wielding the staff, now fitting the two rod-like instruments together against the flat of his palm. “ From THE Black Knight?? I don't know, Lord Seliph. ”

It's obvious Leif doesn't buy it.

NEXT: @lionscion !

lionscion

"It--" Ares stammered inbetween the cousins' pronged attack, stiffening against the combined weight of their words. Any tenseness he meant to communicate with his hardening stare was counteracted by his frown, now reduced to a pout, yet he still passed it between the two anyway. Plenty of choice words tempted him to hastily open his mouth, but instead he buried them beneath a long breath.

"It's a sword," he huffed as he swung a hand around to snatch the parasol away. Once held above their heads, one thumb pressed against the handle-shaped hilt to flash the blade hidden inside. "All of mine were too high-grade for a mock battle such as this." His only other option was forfeiting, which was also the only thing worse than swinging this thing around.

"Besides," he added, voice picking back up out of sheer, defiant confidence, "it makes no difference in my hands." He let go of the parasol 'sheath', flopping to the ground while he tipped the blade over one of his broadened shoulders. "There is no blade I cannot kill with."

#((get his dork ass))#((GET IT))

lionscion

Same Place, Different Time || Ares & Nanna

hosannan

The rain had passed, but it left its ghosts behind. Droplets clung to petals, to glass not yet mended. The whole world felt damp, caught mid-inhale, unsure if it should exhale. In many ways, Nanna felt the same.

She moved gently through the greenhouse, fingertips trailing reverently over new shoots—sweetroot, moonvine, anything that had dared to grow after the storm. These were the moments she gave herself: the spaces between the chaos, where peace felt small enough to cup in her hands. Until another kind of storm found her.

The door burst open, wind rushing in with it, dragging water and urgency across the floor. Before she could turn, before she could even think to worry, she felt it—a hand, firm and familiar, catching her shoulder like memory made flesh.

She turned, breath caught mid-word, lips parted on a question she never got to ask. She didn’t need to. Ares was standing in front of her, dark armor soaked and clinging, hair plastered to his brow, but none of it could hide him. She would have known him in a crowd of shadows. His grip was tight at first, then loosened all at once—like a tension finally given permission to fall away.

Nanna—who had spent two months weaving herself together, who had filled the empty spaces with soft words and gentle duties—exhaled.

“I’ve been… watering tomatoes. Teaching students how to bind sprains. Mending banners no one thought needed mending, until they did.” Her voice quivered, and the quiet laugh that followed was light and paper-thin, but real.

She reached for him, both hands rising without hesitation. Her fingers cupped his face gently, thumbs brushing along high cheekbones, as if he were something sacred she had nearly forgotten how to hold. “I should be asking you how you are doing,” she murmured.

“Ares, you look—” The rest didn’t come. Words would never be enough for the storm she saw behind his eyes.

"...Are you okay?"

"...I am here, you know." You needn't look at me like you've lost me.

So instead, she smiled, aching and radiant all at once. “You found me.” And then, softer, almost to herself: “You always do.”

@lionscion

lionscion

Did he though?

Ares asked himself, despite already knowing the answer, then stiffened as Nanna caressed him in spite of it. To resist it would have been hurting her again, but leaning into it still felt too close to freeloading. Gratitude was best expressed by standing still in this case, even if her smile could not ease his frown.

"You brought yourself here, Nanna," Ares corrected, as firm as its volume was flagging beneath the furious patter of rainsheets on glass, "and you alone, whereas I..."

Pride for his cousin couldn't be stronger, and thus too crushing to hold his gaze on her rather than the floor.

"...I," he trailed, something he was doing a lot of whenever he mustered up the right words to strain through his teeth. "I was nowhere..." And heightening the renewed sputter of vigor behind that erratic cadence was the one unspoken word lodged in the back of his throat.

'Again'.

A word that clarified that it was not just once, not even just twice, but never different. Not just since she was last snatched away in front of him, but as far back as he could trace their relationship, down to the very first meeting. It always was she who found him.

And when Ares looked at what he had promised to do for her in return, he was sickened to find nothing but deeper debt.

#((metaphorically bending over to flog himself))#((transactional relationship logic still fucking him in the head))#((he just wants to help bc he thinks Nanna deserves so much more from him than he's given lately--))#((--wrt repeatedly failing to help her; so he gets mad when he feels like he's failed in giving her enough))#((might be weird but yknow when Mrs Puff is trying to make Spongebob feel better about cheating/failing--))#((--and Spongebob just goes “Naw I'm cheating! I'm a cheater! Cheaterrrrr!”--))#((--that's all I picture when Ares fucks up and falls short and he knows it and everyone else has already forgiven him--))#((--and is trying to tell him it's not that deep but his rigidity means he can't excuse himself))#((he remembers and trusts her saying she can take care of herself; he still wants to help and support in return))

lionscion

I Should've Never Gotten on That Boat || Ares & Seliph

TOA Ball 2025 || Part 1 and Part 2

virtuoustyrfing

Without uttering a single word of protest or throwing a puzzled look at his companion, Seliph does as suggested. Their trade interrupted by the nightfall, he steps back from the rail while clutching his charms in one hand. This year, he has pearls, which are as white as the feathers he recalls exchanging a year ago.

It wouldn't do if he accidentally dropped and lost them to the waves when visibility is growing more and more limited. There are no guarantees whether the staff would even offer him a replacement, and Seliph doubts he could dive in after them.

Besides, getting back on the boat or swimming to the shore would be far too perilous for someone like him. Seliph knows the basics, of course, such as staying afloat in the water—but learning how to swim like a fish? That's been the least of his concerns when he tends to traverse on solid terrains.

"Do you suppose it will rain soon?" Tilting his head back, he observes the darkened sky. Have the clouds turned into an ominous shade of gray? He can't tell whether they are an omen of rainfall or a storm that can rock the vessel.

"It would be a shame if we all ended up soaked," Seliph muses, turning back to Ares with a wry smile tugging at his lips. "You even have a new outfit, Ares." He looks quite dashing in it, too. Seliph made that observation as soon as they found each other in the crowds of merry guests.

"But if it comes to it, we will move below the deck."

lionscion

Ares met Seliph's smile with a puckered frown and a half glance. "I had no other choice," he said, breaking himself out of his briefly stiffened posture to inch further towards the center of the deck.

"Wearing the same thing twice is improper, apparently." An incredulous edge punctuated the end of that fact, leaving a small pause afterwards to wait and see if that was still a revelation to Seliph as much as it had been to him.

Ares had already guessed not though, since Seliph was wearing something new too. The other guests, now steadily fanning out in an easy single file alongside the ship's rails, were also probably the same, even if he never paid enough attention to ever notice such a thing. Or care.

"I understand such a need for something like this," he said, using the newly freed elbow room to extend his arm towards the coast, then to the rumbling sky above, "but what difference does it make within the walls of a ballroom?"

#((figured I might add a steadier build-up and some reflection first on the ball stuff/frustrations before the big dunk))

virtuoustyrfing

stolen valor

virtuoustyrfing

the disappointment undeniably aches in seliph's chest. it beats right alongside his heart that has yet to catch up to his mind. in his thoughts, in those ripples beneath the expression that already wavers and cracks, he understands. he knows the man trapped in the hole is only using his father's name and the title of king for a foul purpose.

he understands, but there's a longing; it contributes to both the heartbreak and this all-too-sour taste in his mouth. and because of it, seliph considered what-ifs. perhaps it wouldn't be as terrible if the seeds hadn't been planted, watered and nurtured.

if mother is here, then surely father will one day follow? sigurd of chalphy would not be a phantom on the shore, no, but a human being made of flesh and bone —— someone who breathes, someone who is as solid as seliph's mother back at the monastery.

those are the thoughts that lingered in the back of seliph's mind. mother did tell him to hold on to hope, after all.

"of course," he says when ares tells him to keep watch, turning his head in time to watch his friend disappear into the man-made pit.

it affords seliph a much-needed moment, no matter how long or short, to properly gather himself. with his back turned to the source of voices and growing sounds of struggle, he keeps an eye on the woods. though, for a second or two, his eyes flutter shut, accompanied by a deep breath.

seliph knows he will have to face the imposter once ares retrieves him. that's why—

a loud sound startles him as much as it startles some birds into flight. the young man sharply turns around and almost calls out to ask if everything's alright—— then nothing. the silence in the pit is seliph's companion as he takes a step closer.

it breaks into shouts and shrieks. soon enough, seliph witnesses the now-bound man land on the ground with a thud.

he stares at the head of blue hair and dirtied clothes before snapping into action at ares' voice. giving the imposter a wide breadth, grannvale's king stops by the edge and helps his friend back up. "he must've dug this hole himself, then. or... someone might have helped him."

much to his quiet relief, his voice sounds far less strained.

"i'll help you with getting him up on his horse," seliph decides with a look that speaks enough of his resolve. it's not that ares really needs the said assistance, but... he would rather do something to help.

seliph even manages a brief, reassuring smile in his friend's direction before he turns to the imposter.

he isn't rough as he rolls the man onto his stomach.

hopefully, he and ares will have a better opportunity to catch up after this is dealt with.

lionscion

A quiet strength emanated from Seliph, which Ares heard before he saw, though he already knew what it was going to look like. The expression he knew from experience rather than any skill at reading them, linking it back to many a battlefield and stubborn standoff shared together, and that was what kept Ares from bending down to heft the impostor up himself. He only offered as much strength as was needed to get him over the saddle; the rest, including the lead, he passed to Seliph via a small nod.

What he wanted to say could wait until they were alone again, after they were free of the thief's mewlings and pleas that he kept clinging to. He was as bad as he was to the Knights as he was to them on the trip back, no matter what threats were waved in front of his face. The only thing that became clear was that he had a script, and that he was too stupid or stubborn to drift from it, even if it would save his own skin.

It was only after the impostor failed to weasel himself free of the two Knights dragging him away that he said something new.

Ares paid it no mind at first, no matter how loudly and pathetically he whined out "OH PLEASE OH PLEASE GOOD SIRS, WON'T ANYONE HEED A WRONGED MAN'S PLIGHT?" His back remain firmly turned, content to leave that voice to fade behind him in a cell.

Things changed quickly when the man forced his head over the Knights' shoulders to add, at the top of his lungs:

"MY DEAREST FRIEND WILL BE EXPECTING ME SOON!"

Not only did it force Ares to a stop, but it was enough to halt the Knights as well. Ares was the one who seized the impostor's attention first though, using an incredulous glare he'd turned over his shoulder, and paired with a single word that dripped with venomous disdain:

" 'Friends?' "

lionscion

When Your BF Wants the Hoodie Back || Ares & Lene

Infamous || Laundry Day (No point)

lionscion

"...So I have your clothes here--"

A couple more passing snickers and snorts interrupted Ares' explanation again, grinding it between his teeth to yet another sudden halt that he could do nothing but roll his eyes at.

How many times that made it now he wasn't sure, no more than he was sure about how many more he had to look forward to. He only knew it was going to end up being more than what it would be if Lene's dorm was on the second rather than the first, down where the majority of prying eyes and ears milled past on their way to wherever else in the Monastery they were going. Sitting the whole complex on an elevated slab of stone without a wall in sight, it may as well have been a stage. And the free show of the day was catching glimpses of the man awkwardly shifting his weight between his legs outside a woman's door. Clutching a basket of her laundry under his arm. Flashing the world with his entire bare chest--

Another round of giggles, some distant and some closer, bubbled up just as he opened his mouth to continue, then disappeared again the moment he shot his glance sideways.

"...They're untouched," he finally continued after a fresh breath, which in turn was immediately met with another fresh round of low chuckles.

"I only opened them once, after you'd already left the washroom--"

More chuckles, plus some new whistles as well, which he now just continued talking over as he fought to keep his face straight.

"I'd thought them to be mine...until I looked, and saw your--"

This round of laughter was the loudest and most boisterous yet, and filled with a lot of "OOOH"s amidst all the other hoots and hollers that, unfortunately for the one particular boy making them this time, were too close to Ares' ear to not know exactly where they were coming from. His free hand was instantly over the other's face, without ever having to give him the satisfaction of turning to face him.

"So--" Ares continued, his words this time broken up by surprised gasps mixing with the loud rustle of a body skidding into the bushes nearby. "--I suspect both of us may have traded baskets."

A few actual sentences were swirling in the background now -- mostly surprised remarks, and one "What the hell, man?!" -- and none of which were entertained with a response by Ares in favor of continuing to talk at the door.

"Might you check?"

@dancersnewme

#((does BF mean boyfriend or best friend?))#((you decide))#((cause these two sure don't know))#((tagging laterrr))

dancersnewme

"I take it you've heard about the ball by now, yes?"

Ares' whisper still carried plenty of strength when he was just a chair away, side by side on an otherwise quiet afternoon in the library. As did his stare, heavy with expectancy when he pulled it away from his books but content enough to simply idle over her shoulder.

"Do you plan to go?"

"The ball?" Lene asked, a little louder than she expected too, trying her best to lower her voice as they continued to speak. "I did hear something about it. How could I miss something that important?" Lene teased, tapping her pencil against one of the open books.

She glances over at Ares "Why do you ask? Are you planning on asking me out to the ball, is that it?"

When she said it out loud, it took her a moment too long to process what she had said, only to laugh awkwardly afterwards. "Oh, What am I saying! Haha... I think I crossed my wires" How embarrassing, she looks away.

lionscion

And suddenly, the instant Lene met it with a question Ares never expected, his powerful stare was shaken small and bare, lost in the new context.

"No, I--" Ares blinked back, each time snapshotting the individual phases to a subtle but building waver in his weakened gaze, one that he nevertheless fought to steady. It might have even broken in spite of himself, had Lene's not broken first.

That it did gave Ares' time to resettle again, and if Lene would have looked back now, it would be as if it'd never needed to in the first place.

"...I meant no such thing, though I am going, and you ought to as well." Humor was nowhere to be found -- neither in his tone nor expression nor reply itself -- which ironically created its own brand of it, but the only thing he was aware of was his own earnestness. "I can't keep you as near as I promised otherwise, and it will serve both of us well as training for court besides--"

"--SHH!"

Ares hadn't thought his volume rising that much, but the librarian's shrill hiss insisted otherwise.

#((before anyone calls me a hypocrite I had planned to reply to this the moment I sent it and already had pieces of a reply prepped--))#((--just needed to tweak them a bit based on Lene's reply xP Anyway-- ))#((*syndrome meme pose* You DENSE MOTHERFUCKER--))

Quick Note on Ball

((Ares is indeed there in universe, and doing his usual charm competition and other stuff, so feel free to reference him as normal, but I'm not posting anything on my end for now while I work on backlog. Maybe it's a sort of running gag that he's there but people keep missing him lol. Anyway yall have fun o7))

#⚔casual mode (ooc)#toball2026

warpaway

if health were measured in points you could probably fit a lot in you

warpaway

linhardt's target is healed, and he gives a general thanks and even displays the cut's heal. well, linhardt knew the cut would heal. that's not why they were there!

he makes to walk off, and linhardt hurriedly follows after. “wait!” they call, impulsively.

they cast another heal spell. there must be some problem the other has. maybe a tense muscle in his shoulder, or his ankle feels weak, or he stubbed his toe last night crawling into bed. linhardt will heal it - he's certain of it - and

the brilliant glow of linhardt's crest manifests between the two, powering his spell with magical power beyond what he'd normally be capable of.

“aha!” he cheers. “how's that? how did that feel? was there anything significant? tell me everything!”

lionscion

"...Blinding."

Ares' clipped reply was half-muffled, buried beneath a hand flexing two fingers to rub away the white that had suddenly hammered his eyes. Anything else he would have, or should have, gleaned from such a flood of magic was lost the instant he shot a small peek over his shoulder just as it was cast.

All else that remained was apparent when he finally dragged his fingers down his cheeks and revealed a tired and bloodshot glare to Linhardt.

"Test my patience again, and it'll be your turn to feel something."

#((I the mun think you should flash him again personally))

lionscion

Eating Life's Lemons || Ares & Leif

Recovery | No Point (Festival prompt)

diadic

Father, Ares says. Of course, without either needing to say the man's name aloud, they both knew who it was. Who could step into Agustria without hearing of Eldigan the Lionheart's name? Who could go without ever knowing when it was through his blood that Ares found his claim to its throne?

Still, Leif had spent much of his life thinking of his own parents, he hadn't spent much time thinking of those from the other side of the continent even as his family had housed one of the man's kin before everything had gone up in flames.

And since then, Nanna hadn't put up much of a word.

“ To think you had seen more of Leonster than I had... I was a baby when it had fallen. I couldn't even understand what was happening— only how sad the people around me were... ”

Leif had been told to dream of the place he had been born to, but his visions of its former glory were only created by the imagination working off of the fanciful stories others told him in their mourning. It was Ares whose eyes had seen what Leonster had to offer. It was Ares who knew just what had been lost.

It was Ares who had lived in those streets and those markets. It never had been Leif.

(The age difference between Ares and him never seemed to matter much, but in moments like these, he's reminded all over again just how much older Ares was.)

“ ...Do you miss Leonster, Ares? Or had you left it all behind in your mind when you got work in Dahna?? ”

lionscion

"What?" Even from the choice sideglance he shot Leif, the confusion twisting Ares' features was deep and unmistakable. "Dahna was a mere fraction of my life compared to Leonster, Leif, let alone what I spent traveling the rest of Jugdral."

Surely Ares wasn't about to be forced to digress just to explain that mercenaries traveled. A single, 'ridiculous' was the amount of words he was willing to set aside for the idea, and only for a moment before discarding it all together with his cup remnants. Both were tossed over Leif's head into a latrine of trash, dug out between a pair of stalls, as they passed by.

"I have no problem remembering it, but…" The renewed strength behind Ares' cadence as he returned to the actual topic was brief, to his own quiet annoyance rather than surprise. This was what always happened, whenever he let Leonster's sunnier days occupy more than a passing thought. "Anything from before its invasion feels…distant."

Even when he wanted to reach for them, just to marvel how sweet its air was, or how blue its skies were up close from his second-story windows overlooking the city, he could never linger on them.

As soon as he held them up close in front of his mind's eye, everything would bleed back to the red horizon the city left him with. Stenches of burnt rot and reeking ozone overtook everything else, and all he could hear above the incessant thunder was his mother's dying curses, seething with an anger that roared so loudly despite it coming out as weak gasps.

Nothing else was ever louder. Even now that he knows better than to give it a voice. Turning away to look at anything quieter was still a step beyond what he was willing to take, transforming them into something that only turned more strange and novel each time he could spare them a longing glance.

"Sometimes I have to remind myself it wasn't a dream."

#((tagging laterrrrr))#((many rewrites on this bc of debating what I wanted to focus on))#((decided in the end to focus on how his mother's rage and his own grief would twist how he frames his memories of Leonster as a whole))#((I also dunno if Leif meant he thinks Ares went straight from Leonster to Dahna but that is how I'm having Ares take it lol))

hosannan

using pearls to blind us {

※pearlescent | blackmail!

hosannan

( click. click. click. click. )

Her heels had new wings, tantamount to liberation and a newfound selfishness, alike. She was used to silencing herself of base needs, but having both her mother and cousin in tow made her want more than she had scarcely allowed herself prior. It also made her recognize what she wanted, and what was at risk from all her want. Nordion! When was the last time she thrilled in her birthright like this...? Never, she thought, not like this. Nordion! With their sleek flax hair caught in motion, they were biting at the heels of their purported perpetrator before her wings were properly set in place.

( " don't let me fool you ♫♪♪ I've never been one to settle down ♫ " )

Tucked away in her satchel was a letter that detailed an unnamed family member—blond and fair, with bright eyes and charm to boot—held captive here, in this lavish community lined with pearl white buildings.

( " if you give your heart away so easily ♪ your life will be a single line in my life ♪" )

Nanna was so familiar with seeing the backs of people fade into the distance, but this was the first back that pulled straight into a thick audience, all entranced by a street opera. Stage magicians snapped their fingers, lighting up the street lamps one-by-one, as the protagonist belted his tune to try to cast away his new love before she was anchored down by his misfortunes.

"Mother, Ares--! Over there--"

She gasped as the rogue skipped over the twine rope lines holding back the crowd as the lovers strut across their street stage.

( " you would be better off without--" )

The tune was clipped, and the crowd in an uproar, as the criminal shouldered the hero on his less-than-starlit way off the streets.

@landsbluod & @lionscion !!

landsbluod

It was a testament to the power of those fiends in the dark, those cruel hands that had taken her so long ago, that her body was too frail to house the entirety of her rage that she could only simmer, incandescent but nearly incorporeal, upon receipt of the letter.

It had been clutched in her fist enough times that the worn paper in her pocket was nearly unreadable, not merely through the blinding light that shimmered in her vision every time she set eyes upon it. She had set forth without a second thought, as she suspected they wanted of her, and had this been any other moment in time, the matter would have been settled already.

Diarmuid...

Finding Nanna and Ares had been a surprise, especially come to find that they had been seeking her, as well – and it was simultaneously welcome and unwelcome information to learn that they'd received similar notes, as well.

Who in their right mind would beg the wroth of all surviving pride of Nordion?

Their prey scurried before them, a slinking weasel disappearing in the throng of the gathered crowd, leading them by the leash to where he wanted them, perhaps - it stank of a trap, but she would gladly destroy whatever machinations stood in the way of her and her son.

"A coward, who seeks to use the crowd to hide himself. Does he believe us too polite to follow? I've interrupted stages grander than this."

But perhaps they needn't. Her eyes glimmered gold in the lantern light, narrowed at the retreating back.

"Around, to the left. We will cut him off when he attempts to emerge!"

lionscion

It was impossible to spy the shady man's smirk in a crowd so thick, and through a back that never bent to pay a single glance to what was behind him over what was in front. The alley waiting a few fleetfooted steps ahead, empty and forgotten in the townsfolk's favor of the show playing out on the main streets beyond, was all that mattered. Even the current uproar did little to break them away from the wall of bodies they formed, leaving them intact as cover for him to slip into the path unnoticed by everyone except the three he intended.

His route would be simple after that, unchanged regardless of which direction these marks would follow from. What was waiting further ahead would be ready to grab them from any angle they thought of, and guarantee him an exit that would never so much as risk lifting his hood up.

A plan so simple and clear left little more for the rogue to imagine something more perfect, laid before him to simply run into in blissful clarity.

So caught up in dreams was he that he forgot to keep a pulse on reality, which had its own plans currently whizzing above his head. Its size was such that, despite the speed at which it sailed, it and the shadow its blurring shape cast beneath the rogue seemed to flow in slow motion. Right past him, past the crowd, and even up from behind Lachesis and her command that came split seconds too late. A furious landing, smashing into a thunderous heap of bits that buckled the brick beneath, was the only result left -- and what finally broke the rogue's fantasy mere inches before he would have been crushed underneath it himself.

Dissonance didn't make the transition back to the chill of near death creeping up his body easy to adjust to though; it froze him in an empty gaze that became fixated on hazarding out the mass of wreckage blocking off his perfect plan. Sounds faded together into a dull hum while his mouth hung half-slacked, only allowing himself a chance to use it to breathe a soft gasp when disbelief morphed into horror.

It was a wagon.

"..h…er…s…he…!"

The rogue's legs staggered back, searching for a new route to stumble towards while the revelation rode up his prickling skin.

Something chucked an entire wagon--

"WHERE IS HE?!"

The roar tore through the muffled barrier encasing the rogue and slammed against the depths of his chest, just before an open hand did the same to his neck.

Feet flew off the ground and arms flailed against the spinning breeze as he was lifted high enough to watch every face in the crowd as they blurred by. One desperate hand tried to budge the immovable forearm dragging him along, and the other fumbled around the knife sheath at his hip. Being slammed against the nearby wall rendered the whole thing pointless from the start, knocking the blade from his fingers just when they finally managed a weak grasp on its hilt.

Where it flew to was a shaky guess, its distant clatters his only clue since he couldn't see anything past the stony face of one of his intended marks. The snarl he carried was quite slight for someone with so loud a voice, glaring such utter and unblinking death at his family's 'captor'.

Perhaps it was the fresh concussion that cracking a dent into solid brick tended to do, but the rogue couldn't help but let a raspy chuckle slip out at such a word.

Ares had no way of knowing the humor locked behind internal monologue though, meeting the laugh with a thumb shifting over the base of the man's throat. "I will not repeat myself again--" Ares pressed it in, teasing fragile bones with force enough to cave his entire skull if he so much as twitched any further.

"--Give me my cousin!"

#((I love that Cipher confirms Ares is a bull in a china shop when he's pissed off enough))#((embodying the Mike Tyson “everyone has a plan til they get punched in the face” wisdom here))#((since we said we are flying by seats of pants here pls lmk if I need to adjust I just went with it here o7))#((tagging the rest in the morning))

👥 — How does your muse feel about themself in relation to others? Are they happy with their relative position?

SWEET LOVE HC’s (Accepting!)

(Also asked by @secularch)

((Generally yes! Ares' confidence in himself is quite high, which makes him resistant to inferiority issues compared to others. Even when he was just a lowly merc whose former title as a noble meant nothing anymore, he carried himself with pride and confidence as somebody equal to others in the room, so his actual socioeconomic status didn't affect his feelings much. Being someone physical, ruled by actions and then intent, his chief comparison came from how well he and others carried themselves and got shit done. Given he is often successful in his missions, yeah he naturally would be comfortable with his position.

Though, he didn't see himself as inherently superior to other people either. That is, in terms of worth as a human being. Cause in terms of combat yes he probably thinks he's better than you LMFAO. He has good reason to think so since lore (and thus his own biology) backs him up on that, as well as his own experience time and time again. But he doesn't think that means he has more rights than you as a human -- there's a difference. His judgemental side will make him quick to thinking of you as good or bad though, which influences his treatment of you, but it also doesn't usually remove his 'rights' he holds onto for each person, such as mercy. Exceptions exist of course but, generallyTM.

The problem comes with his naturally rigid personality. As far as it relates to this hc, it means he has a strict set of standards, both for himself and others. They're quite uniform at base, but also take into account the general differences in others and himself, like the fact he is usually stronger than others. Ergo, he has higher expectations for himself a lot of the time simply because he knows (and if he doesn't already know, he expects -- or even DEMANDS) he can do. If he falls short of them, he can be very harsh, in part clashing with the confidence that also helps fuel these same expectations. Like a dissonance issue kinda, cause he goes in fully confident he can do this thing, whatever it is; so then to fall short of it is absolutely unacceptable, as he himself even says in his FEH lines when he has a bad level-up. And he acts similarly when beating himself up in front of Lene for failing to save her/listen to her.

If anything I'd say Ares has the opposite of an inferiority issue, where he has placed so much heavy expectations on himself that he ends up shouldering a lot more than a person sometimes should. I think this tendency to want to shoulder the world on his back came partly from Javarro encouraging this, once again, by pushing him to his limits as a one man army. We know Javarro just wanted to use him after all, and Ares has a natural desire to want to serve and please his loved ones; so I feel like Javarro would have taken that and run with it by turning Ares into his mule, taking on tougher and tougher jobs/workloads and then dumping it on Ares and just saying "go do it. Figure it out." And then well Ares damn well have better figured it out, or he got a very pissed off Commander barking down at him for disobeying/failing. Would help add to how Javarro's band became so famous as it was, since Ares was considered his group's trump card.

Now that angry and abusive man may be gone, but the voice of him remains in Ares' head. Partly because, like with other aspects of Ares' personality, I think that trait was already there. We see Eldigan have similar confidence in himself, as well as strictness that manifests as fixating over his losses (eg in the latest duo Sig-Eldigan unit in FEH), though not to the visible degree Ares does. And Ares is literally stated by the narrative to remind people of Eldigan, and his knightly character intro is also meant to demonstrate this by showing he has the same heart of his knightly father despite being a 'slimy merc'. Javarro's abuse of him just exaggerated the self-critical side of it, along with his own experiences. He hates inaction, and part of his coping about the bad things in his early life stems from this belief in being the difference maker. Eg if he could have fought in Leonster he could have maybe saved his mom or grandparents. He hates the idea that, even now that he has power, he may not be able to do something and prevent an outcome he fears. So he pushes harder so he doesn't have to face that as a possibility, because he never wants to let that become reality again. Yet another reason Chapter 7 was a very tough time for him x)

So whenever Ares DOES fail to carry such a herculean load now, it crushes him all the more. Not because he thinks it too out of his wheelhouse usually, but because he goes in thinking he is up to the task, because he always had to be (or make it be so). This is better a bit by Epilogue I think, since he talks about how he cannot do the task of reforming Agustria alone, showing he's become more open to relying on others after Dahna made him show his ass on trying to solo everything. But it's not perfect I don't think (see above), just shifted in perspective. Because while he is more ok with sharing a load now, he still expects himself to be able to shoulder his share of it, so if he fails even that much (what he maybe considers an 'easier load'), he considers it failing his allies, so he winds up still harsh on himself anyway.

In essence, the person Ares is constantly positioning himself against the most is just himself. Others only come into the picture when he starts failing his own expectations and he starts to take note of how his failure can in turn fail others' expectations of him, and by extension potentially threaten their relationship. He's not used to people being understanding of him having shortcomings without the promise or expectation of making up for them asap (what I think Javarro often expected and held his 'forgiveness' behind) after all. So as far as positions are concerned, he thinks his friends/fam will put him in the dog house (or just die lol) if he comes up short. It's very transactional but in a one-sided way, once again thanks to Javarro treating his relationship with Ares this way. He needs to get used to separating his task performance from the status of his relationships so strictly and seeing it as something that is constantly one failure away from being severely or irreversibly damaged. Cause there's a difference between being a slob who neglects their friends/fam's needs and somebody who cares for them/is there for them but simply can't pull the moon down from the sky every night yfm?))

#⚔unit profile (hc)#((ty for sending!))

🎵 — Does your muse value music in their life? In what ways are they involved with it if they have access to it at all?

SWEET LOVE HC’s (Accepting!)

((Finally a shorter post lol! Yes he likes music. He sees it as a treat, one of his ideas of a little recreation that he doesn't always get access to since he is often traveling or working. I think he has only become able to hear it on the near daily more recently. Before the Monastery he'd go much longer stretches without it as it was normally only something he could hear when stopping in towns if someone was playing (cause he sure can't play shit), so he's more appreciative it's easier to find a song around campus or in town now.

His appreciation goes back to when he was a child, back when he was still in Leonster. As it was an arts hub, he got to hear and see performances much more frequently, even sometimes audible from his home if he poked his head out the window. He has fond memories of said performances, especially since it was one of the few things he got to do with his mother, and he has thus associated it with peace and respite from his worries. It's nostalgic to him now, and he gets really mad if you interrupt the zen of a performance.))

#⚔unit profile (hc)#((ty for sending!))

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

Black Knight