LUMINOUS

"The Light Inheritor" Seliph Baldos Chalphy ------ affiliated with FERP ------

[lumenheres]

unbound ✧ OPEN

[lumenheres]

Lene glances around. So, based on the invitation sent to her two days ago, supposedly she was supposed to entertain around here… right? Something about a children party, something merry and light which she is more than willing to take.

Perhaps the pay is modest compared to dancing in a manor or even a bar, but the atmosphere is supposed to be more welcoming. It’s entertaining children, anyway–and she sincerely thinks the small humans are blessed with innocent curiosity unlike one which she finds in adults… well, men.

Children party, children party.

The dancer strolls, quietly approaching the village gate. Safeguard is neatly sheathed at her waist, concealed with wrapped cloth. Her woven satchel is slung over her shoulders, and with the under-wrap she wears, it won’t take long for her to get ready to take the stage in case she arrives late at the intended location.

Perhaps she should have read the map better before she went out…

Red-faced, Lene glances around again. Where to go from here? Which house is it again? No worries, there’s a crowd over there, huh? All she needs to do will just be asking for a birthday child with a party to hold, right?

She is about to approach the crowd, humming impatiently. Professional, professional. Her dancer mother will not be late or see that her pay cut due to carelessness like this. Sigh.

… Hold on. That figure appears to be familiar. At least from behind. After all, she has spent some time following him and his entourage in a noble quest to free Jugdral from oppression. Of course she won’t be mistaken… well, unless that person over there is an impersonator.

“Excuse me…” she wants to approach him. Is he busy? What if she pokes the… wrong person? Inhaling, the dancer stretches her vocal chords.

“SIR SELIPH~!!” she waves back and forth, smiling.

Before his better judgement is able to keep his himself rooted and unmoving in place, his head is already swiveling about to find the source of his shouted name. That sounded like a woman’s voice-- wait, how could someone have known it was him? Unless it was someone he’d--

Then his eyes fall on the waving, green-haired young woman a few yards off. Oh. Leave it to the gods to prevent him from arriving somewhere entirely devoid of people he knew... Ah, but he couldn’t exactly fault her. From what he’d met of Lene, she appeared by all accounts to be a generally good intentioned person -- and how could he expect her to know he was traveling around keeping his status in secret?

Doing an awkward small shuffle way from the crowd in the hopes that more attention isn’t drawn in his direction, Seliph raises a hand in greeting to give her a little wave. “H-Hey Lene,” he whispers, cupping his hand around his mouth conspiratorially as he reaches her side. “Er... what exactly are you doing here?” He hadn’t really known where she’d disappeared off to after the war -- and admittedly, he had been too caught up in his own burgeoning role as ruler of an entire collective of people to find out at the time -- but here was the last place he’d have thought he’d run into her. Was she still traveling and dancing? That was what she’d done before, wasn’t it?

[lumenheres]

acacia

acacia: how much does it take for your muse to hate someone?

it is both difficult or easy, depending on the circumstances. seliph, overall, is a pretty tolerant person when it comes to most things, and it typically takes something pretty severe to catapult a general dose of dislike (not enough to really act on it) to hatred. he generally likes and/or tolerates most people to an extent – and if not, then that dislike is not enough to warrant being “hatred”, but rather just enough for him to not associate with that person more than necessary.

the best way to get seliph to hate someone would be for that someone to either a.) maliciously commit harm to someone he is close to, or b.) willfully harm innocent people with no remorse. to garner feelings of legitimate hatred, the target also typically has to be someone who is not seliph himself, and typically has to do more with actions rather than words. insulting him verbally probably isn’t going to get him to hate you (mostly because that’d just corroborate with his own feelings of self-doubt), but an action of insult grave enough would probably tip the scales. and if someone acted maliciously towards the select few he’s truly close to? that’s also do the trick. it doesn’t even have to be something he’s witnessed personally – if someone close to him confined about an incident like this, his judgement would be passed.

seliph would like to believe that he is a person who doesn’t make negative snap judgements about people, but he’s got some heavy biases towards certain groups of people due to his own experiences/associations – namely dark mages. despite knowing that there’s more to dark magic and those who use it than them just “being evil”, it is very difficult to shake the hatred association he’s built up about dark mages being remorseless monsters.

[lumenheres]

✧ starter call!

ooc; hello everybody! just wanted to toss out another starter call to see if i can get a few more threads rollin’ -- if anyone would be interested in discussing threads, just send a pm! c:

( also! unbound is still open for those possibly interested too )

[lumenheres]

raspberry and silk!

raspberry: what food and/or drink can your muse not get enough of? do they indulge in it often, or is it something reserved for special occasions?

time to throw my muse under the proverbial bus seliph has quite the weakness for rich, sweet foods. to say he has a sweet tooth would probably be a severe understatement – cake? yes. creams-filled pastries? yes. pies? yep. chocolate anything? absolutely. a modern!au seliph would also be a lover of ice cream (in all forms), junk food snack cakes, and s’mores.

he’d like to be able to say that he reserves foods such as these for special occasions and banquets… but unfortunately, he is a creature who seeks quick pleasure when under stress, and sweet foods are a very easy way to get that instant gratification. becoming the leader of an entire collection of duchies is also intensely stressful… so you can see where this probably leads.

silk: does your muse care about appearances much? do they spend a lot of time on their own appearance, or do they just go with the flow each day?

if left to his own devices, seliph probably wouldn’t put that much effort into how he looks past making sure his hair was tied up, his clothes weren’t covered in something, he’s shaved, and he had taken a bath recently. seliph is… very much a regular teenage boy in that regard. unfortunately, this is about the bare minimum required of someone in a position of influence such as his, so he spends much more time worrying about his looks than he did during/prior the war. after all, if he doesn’t look good or impressive, it reflects badly on the people of grannvale, doesn’t it? and how can someone respect their “light inheritor” if he doesn’t make an effort to look the part?

he also doesn’t put that much stock into what other people look like – their personality and character are far more important to him than the way they choose to dress. being so concerned with appearances as people at court can be is not a mindset he ever intends to adopt past a necessary brush for posterity’s sake.

[lumenheres]

split perception ✧ Seliph/Tharja

[lumenheres]

In a strange turn of events, Tharja feels that she is being followed.

    Her patrol partner, one of the cheerful “heroes” summoned from foreign lands into their Askran conglomerate, had been tailing Tharja from a distance for the past few minutes now. Keeping to himself and looking almost worried, he seems worlds away from the sociable stranger she had caught glimpses of at the castle in the past.

    She scoffs–she knows that look well. It’s hard not to, when her entire life has been dedicated to the very craft that gives people reason to act like they were waiting for her to curse the rest of their days. She’s not the type to explain to every ogling mouth-breather that she has no interest in scaring them either, instead letting them build up whatever fanciful narrative they desired for her. The more their wordless actions reinforced the fact that she was different, the deeper Tharja cloaked herself in her familiar miasma, the very stuff that drives well-intending people away. Being around dark magic filled her with a warmth not unlike that of her childhood, of Plegian summers and long nights alone.

    But with the way her partner shivers in her presence, one would think she had personally stolen the heat from his body. Sighing, she stops in her tracks and stares him down, wondering if he would come closer or continue to hover like an awkward puppy.

    “Cold?” she asks flatly, even though she knows better. The flame dancing between her fingertips, conjured in a matter of moments from her ever-present tome, illuminates her grim look from below. The sinister heat in her hand builds, then dissipates like smoke, cut by her frigid blade’s-edge of a sneer. “We are a night patrol; no need to hide it. Unless something else is bothering you.”

The moment that woman’s eyes lock onto him, Seliph swears he feels the rapid exit of what warmth remained in his blood. Was this another one of her dark mage powers? He’s certain that her ability to ask such an innocuous question in such a menacing air was one of them. The flickering flame alight on her fingertips does nothing to detract from the already frightening aura he was convinced he felt emanating from her general direction. Cold? The night’s chill had settled itself on the exposed skin of his cheeks, and now it seemed to have begun to creep beneath the several layers he’d wrapped himself in to keep warm -- but that wasn’t thanks to any night breeze.

The wide-eyed stare of alarm he returns in her direction does very little to cover for his jumpiness, even if he forces a painfully fake smile and a rapid shake of his head ‘no’ in response to her question. “I... am fine, Miss...” Gods, he didn’t even know her name. Didn’t it start with a ‘th’? Seliph had been more concerned with formulating his plan to be able to avoid having to speak with this woman than actually paying attention.

“I’m used to the cold,” he continues, pushing a more chipper tone into his voice as best he could. If she could see how not worried he was, perhaps that’d be enough. However, ‘chipper’ devolves quickly into nervous ramble. “Just trying to stay on my toes, haha. You know, the enemy could be anywhere. I’ll just cover us from behind. You’re a mage anyways, so that’s best, right? I’ll just ah, stay here.”

[tsukaretame-blog]

colorful headcanons.

[dumaschosen-blog]

( send me a copic color for a headcanon )

frost blue: does your muse enjoy the snow and cold? or are they the type to enjoy summer more?

peacock blue: is your muse honest? what sorts of lies do they tell, if not?

lapis lazuli: does your muse prefer the idea of exploring the depths of the oceans, or the boundless expanses of space more?

reddish brass: how likely is your muse to step up and take the role of a leader? are they willing to take the challenge, or are they more apt to being a follower?

burnt umber: how stable is your muse, mentally and/or emotionally?

champagne: does your muse drink (alcohol)? are they a heavy drinker, if so?

tea orange: what is something that your muse is fascinated with?

malachite: has your muse ever done anything that they winded up feeling incredibly guilty for in the end?

olive: is your muse prone to feeling envious of others? if yes, what is it that they typically feel envious over?

vermillion: is your muse courageous, or would they consider themselves to be more of a coward?

coral: what is your muse’s romantic and sexual orientations?

bougainvillaea: would your muse consider themselves as blunt, or do they beat around the bush instead?

currant: what’s something that absolutely disgusts your muse (can be a person, place, thing, ect)?

crimson: how passionate is your muse about the things they love most?

raspberry: what food and/or drink can your muse not get enough of? do they indulge in it often, or is it something reserved for special occasions?

baby blossoms: does your muse have a favorite scent? what is it, and why?

mallow: what sorts of things might remind your muse of those close to them? any scents, objects, sounds?

aubergine: does your muse prefer the day, or are they more of a night-owl?

acacia: how much does it take for your muse to hate someone?

cadmium yellow: what subjects or topics does your muse avoid, because they bring up harmful / painful memories?

honey: when your muse loves someone (whether it be romantic, platonic, or familial love), how do they show it?

chartreuse: if you had to describe your muse with a color, what color would it be and why?

anise: when it comes to self-care, what does your muse do to take care of themselves? do they take care to spend time on it, or do they feel they don’t deserve it?

new leaf: what message would your muse send to their past self, if any?

moss: how easily does your muse adapt to any new situations they’re thrust into?

silk: does your muse care about appearances much? do they spend a lot of time on their own appearance, or do they just go with the flow each day?

sanguine: does your muse typically have an optimistic, pessimistic, or some middle ground outlook on life?

atoll: if your muse could go anywhere, without any restrictions whatsoever, where would they go? why would they go there?

cool grey: if your muse could ensure one thing for certain in their future to come, what would it be?

black: does your muse have a ‘bucket list?’ list some things your muse wants to accomplish before they die.

[lumenheres]

split perception ✧ Seliph/Tharja

@fuonno

The contemplation of the nature of ‘good’ and ‘evil’ was something he had thought he’d be able to leave with the final banners war... but as it seemed to turn out, Seliph could manage to elude such thought even in a completely new land, surrounded by completely new faces. Then again, it were these new faces that had brought those thoughts bubbling back to the surface of his mind. What was ‘good’, what was ‘evil’ -- could a ‘good’ man do ‘evil’ deeds in the name of ‘good’? Could the same be said in reverse? These were questions too big for just a man to ask.

At least he was decided on one thing. If there was an actual embodiment of evil -- true evil, purely malevolent from beginning to end -- it was dark magic. It was said that it was like an addiction, like a sort of living force seeking to consume the user and corrupt them into something inhuman. It was the magic of destruction, corrosion, malady. He had seen the horrors of the afflictions it could cause, if it didn’t just kill you outright. And death outright would be merciful, in that case.

A part of him always figured that most of the people who wielded such magic did so not really of their own free will, but after having been manipulated into wanting to use it by other Loptyrians, appealing to the darker side of their humanity somehow. Anyone who would willingly chose dark magic of their own free will must be as evil as the arts they used, wouldn’t they? That’s the only way someone could ever rationalize it to themselves that afflicting their enemies with such a thing could ever be okay.

So when word had reached Seliph that there was a woman in this place who willingly studied and wielded dark magic, he made it his sole mission to avoid her at all costs. Of course, this only worked until the gods decided to play a cruel joke and have the both of them assigned to the very same patrol. Of all the people in this place, of all the capable mages in this place, it had to be her? He... wasn’t going to be rude outright, of course. But... he also didn’t have to say anything at all. Which was precisely what he had done until their mission’s deployment. Scouting. Easy. He could just... gesture at her, right? Or make her go first to keep and eye on her. Yeah, that’d be better. She could just as easily finish him off and claim it was an ‘accident’ -- and with the effects of dark magic, they might not even find his body... Seliph shivers visibly at the thought.

[lumenheres]

respite ✧ Seliph/Leif

@inhabiliis

No, not quite right. Dammit. Huffing a sigh, Seliph unties the cravat from around his neck for at least the fourth time in the past fifteen minutes, fingers fumbling over the next attempted knot. He knows it’s only a casual meeting, but that doesn’t mean that it gave him the excuse to look like an unkempt slob who couldn’t even tie a proper knot in his own clothing. After all, a casual meeting between the Emperor of Grannvale and the King of New Thracia could never actually be seen as entirely casual, much to his own dislike. Leif was his friend, not just some new king -- and furthermore, he was family. And he’d seen him with hair disheveled, covered in mud, blood, and gods’ know what else during the war, so he highly doubts Leif would care if his cravat was tied too loosely.

Or maybe he would. He hopes not. Nearly eight months had passed since any of them had been able to see each other face-to-face. Of course, there had been letters to both him and Ares -- sent as frequently as Seliph could manage -- but those didn’t fill the void left by the leaving of his closest friends. And the moment’s respite reading them didn’t stave off the stress of being a ruler. Would Leif recognize him? It’s not that he looked very different -- perhaps a bit more softness hung to his frame where it had not before, and the brightness of his eyes were dulled slightly from the darker circles beneath them. Maybe he simply felt different. Weighted down. Would he notice that?

Giving up on the frustrating article of clothing entirely, he settles instead to simply fasten the collar of his tunic entirely and not waste any more time on something as pointless as a scrap of patterned cloth. He was dressed fine enough as is. If Leif somehow didn’t like it, he’d just have to reconcile that with himself. Now, he was left to pace about the main hall until the announcement of the king’s arrival was heard. Giving Seliph plenty of time to preen over his appearance again -- the fall of his bangs in his face, the setting of the crown about his forehead, the bright ribbon tying back his hair... 

Would Leif look any different? They’d been young during the war, and he would still be in the midst of growing, wouldn’t he? Gods, he better not be taller. They’d seen eye to eye when last they’d spoken, but only months before that he’d been at his ear. It was said he resembled Prince Quan strikingly, so maybe the resemblance had grown even stronger. Seliph had hoped his own resemblance to his father would grow with the years, letting him become taller, broader, more chiseled -- but it seemed fate had it set for him to stop at being a man and having the same color of hair. And now, he just looked rather...

Thankfully, he’s not lost to his thoughts for much longer, as the fated announcement of the arrival of the King of New Thracia is heralded by the horns, and Seliph feels his heart flip-flop in nervous excitement in his chest. Was Leif as nervous as he was? Probably not. Lief was fearless. There was no way a visiting cousin would make him quake even the tiniest of tremors in his boots. Seliph can’t say the same for his own hands. He decides to hide those best clasped behind his back as the great doors begin to open.

[lumenheres]

✧ starter call!

ooc; hello everyone! very excited to have seliph here -- if anyone would be interested in starting a thread together, shoot me a pm! c:

[lumenheres]

unbound ✧ OPEN

Perhaps it was irresponsible for the ruler of a nation to simply take an unspecified trip to an unspecified place under unspoken arrangements. Then again, he was this ruler, so he technically made the rules, didn’t he? Ah, that was probably a bad way of thinking, stop that. What would Father think of that? This was a perfectly responsible choice. He’d made sure at least that everything would be taken care of for the few weeks he’d allotted for this escapade -- and the whole point was that no one would even know he was gone. 

It’d be perfect. No paperwork, no prying eyes, no wanting ears, no Emperor, just nature, and focus, and Seliph. Through the grapevine of communications that pass through the daily reports, he had gotten word that a pocket of what villagers were claiming to be dark mages had holed themselves up in an abandoned mine towards the western mountains. Apparently, they’d been doing all manner of things -- from stealing livestock to cursing children with illness (never mind that it was approaching the winter season now and children always fell sick around this time). Not exactly the kinds of things Seliph knew dark mages got up to during the war -- but, maybe they’d fallen on harder times after their leader was defeated. No, that wasn’t something to joke about. If these people really were fraternizing with dark arts again, there’d be much more serious consequences that a couple of missing sheep.

The little village in question was so small it hadn’t even been labeled on a map. Although that meant a little more guesswork on navigation, it also meant that the chances of these people recognizing him as “Emperor Seliph” was probably also rather slim (especially dressed down as he was and carrying a simple sword). Unfortunately... “Seliph” wasn’t exactly a common name. Hmm. That’d have to be figured out. How long could he go without someone asking? Could he just say “it’s not of your concern” with an air of mysterious confidence? Hah, who was he kidding, he wasn’t the likes of Ares.

There was already a small crowd of people gathering in the small central square of the village by the time he’d arrive -- the party being sent to tangle with the mages, according to the reports. Damn, he’d hope to be able to lay low for at least a day before this, but no matter. Looking around, it appeared that word of these mages had spread father than he’d imagined -- many more well-equiped people were gathering here to hear the battle plan. Mercenaries, probably, judging from their strange armor and clothes. So, they’d be send in small groups into the mines to scope out the tunnels and deal with whatever they find -- mercy or force being at one’s discretion. Right. The villagers already seemed to be dividing themselves into their groups, and Seliph turns himself about to try and meet eyes with someone who hadn’t yet been chosen. There wasn’t any way someone could do this alone, right?