"Have some death! :D"

ruin. flux. blood. death. pain. a so-called curse slinger. {closed toa rp blog}

[ravensnruin]

oodles of noodles

[ from here @prhyst ]

“Huh? Oh, okay.”

Words that defined Rhys’s life experience. He let himself be dragged along to the pasta table with Henry, realizing what he was up to. Well, single people should be able to eat too. Rhys assumed Henry didn’t have a date if he was resorting to bringing him over to get a huge, oblong plate of pasta.

“Yes, it does smell nice and look appetizing,” commented Rhys, suddenly hungry enough to dig into some pasta.

It took only the moment for Rhys to sit down for Henry to seize the meatball.

Rhys raised his eyebrows, a small smile on his lips. They weren’t close, really, but Henry was a coworker and they should know each other better. Rhys folded his hands and nodded. “You may have that, if you like. I think it’s big enough to share— but if you’re hungry, I’m happy to share all of my half of the meatball with you. I’m thankful to have some of this spaghetti.”

It was sort of a mystery as to why they would put only one meatball on the plate, thought Rhys, as he chewed a bit of pasta, but he supposed if a young couple to-be couldn’t figure out how to handle a meatball, their relationship in general needed some work.

Good, good, good~! This sucker didn’t put up any kind of fuss. The perfect partner. Henry had chosen well. Pleased, he giggled quietly to himself as they sat down and were brought their plate. No going back now. He’d half expected the other to balk and protest his claim over the One Meatball, but the man did not. He offered it up freely. 

Sure, maybe it was big enough to share. But Henry was hungry. And he’d so been wanting this meatball all to himself. If they’d given him a plate of his own, he wouldn’t have had to share at all... but, looking at the heaping mountain of spaghetti, sharing was probably for the best. Wouldn’t do to get any rumbly tummy aches from eating too much. . . but, the meatball... but... but...

Before he could bother with any further mental gymnastics, the meatball had been popped into his mouth and yum. Poof. Gone.

No regretti for this spaghetti fiend, nope.

“And I’m thankful for the meatball,” Henry countered with a grin once he’d swallowed it down. “But happy to share the rest.” Twirling a fork into his side of the plate, he hummed, chipper as can be. Still, this strikes him as an opportunity, and so for better or worse, he opens his mouth again:

“You teach Faith magic right? All the sparkly stuff? You ever considered coming to the ~dark side~?” Fingers waggled for extra effect. OoooOOOoOoo~

[theofficersacademy]

[ Ethereal Ball 2021 info post ]

ASK MEMES

Give my muse something to eat or drink…

Champagne: Imported from the western shores of the Adrestrian Empire, the school purchases 70 bottles of this stuff well in advanced for this day alone. The bartenders are under strict orders not to offer any student more than one glass.

Sparkling Water: Fresh spring water that has been magically carbonated. Served with a squeeze of lime or a dash of one of the many fruit syrups available at the bartender’s disposal.

Coffee: More specifically, a mocha brewed with Almyran coffee beans and Dagdan chocolate and served with hot milk. A sweeter variation of the drink taking Fódlan by storm.

Tea: Just what it says on the tin! The only teas offered are Mint, Bergamot, Sweet-Apple Blend, Albinean Berry Blend, and Southern Fruit Blend, wrapped in small tea bags. Clever students bring their own tea.

Water: The liquid of life, the quencher of thirst. Served in crystalline glasses. And what’s more dramatic than throwing water at someone’s face!

Spaghetti and meatball: A lovers’ portion of freshly-made spaghetti cooked in the monastery’s famous tomato sauce. The titular, singular meatball sits in the center, waiting for one lucky person to have their lover roll it to them with their nose as an offering.

Sweet Bun Trio: A selection of traditional Faerghus pastries, all small enough to be eaten in one delicious bite! The first bun is filled with sweet cream and topped with icing and a candied cherry. The second is a sweet roll filled with almonds, pecans, and dried cranberries and glazed with honey. The third is a bun sliced in half, filled with almond paste and whipped cream, dusted with powdered sugar on top.

Pomegranate: A newcomer to the Ethereal Ball’s menu, a simple bowl of pomegranate seeds. No one in the staff is quite sure how these are supposed to be served, only that you better not spit the pits out on the floor!

Mint candy: For when your breath isn’t as fresh as newly-fallen snow.

Interact with my muse…

send 💌to invite my muse to the Goddess Tower

send 👀to accidentally find my muse at the Goddess Tower

send 🏃to sneak off and explore the monastery together

send 👗to compliment my muse’s outfit

send 🚨for my muse to call the fashion police on your muse

send 👂to pass along a rumor your muse has heard about someone else

or make up your own!

Dance with my muse…

send 💃to ask my muse for a dance

send 🙇for my muse to ask yours for a dance

send 👯to teach my muse a new dance

send 😃for my muse to make your muse laugh with a silly dance

send 💫for our muses to get paired with each other in the middle of a dance

[geniusmageknight]

🎣 "Heeere fishie fishie fishie~ Heeere fishie." No dice. Pouting, Henry glanced over. "Where are all the fishies?" A sigh. Then, a quirked brow. "You having any better luck over there?" He hadn't been paying attention, not really.

Glancing over from his fishing spot, Kempf realized that not too far away from him was another fisherman. He wasn’t sure when the white haired guy showed up, but these are the sort of things you don’t notice when focused on fishing. The self-proclaimed “biggest brain in Friege” had been fishing for 2 hours without so much as a sign of a fish biting. Were Fodlan’s fish just rare? If so, how come they always seemed to have a steady supply of fish in the cafeteria? There was clearly some trick to this that Kempf hadn’t figured out, but his patience was growing thin and his fellow fish finder was about to hear about it.

“No I’m not having any luck! I’m not even sure there’s any fish here anyways! If you ask me, this is all some big prank, and WE are the punchlines! Any self-respecting fish would have just stayed home today, considered how frigid the stupid water is!”

What was intended to be a relaxing afternoon had officially become a tremendous waste of time in Kempf’s eyes. But, it would all be worthwhile if he could just get that one fish! Any fish would do! And if conventional tactics won’t catch the fish, perhaps alternative means would be required.

“We’ve both been out here catching nothing for a while, right? I’m thinking there’s nothing wrong with our technique. Our problem is that the stinking fish aren’t even showing up to begin with. What we need, is bait. Good bait. You’ve been around these parts longer than I have, so you must know something about what kind of bait to use! If you can find me something that works, I’ll..... compensate you. But not until I catch a fish, understand!?”

[ravensnruin]

Henry hummed and hawwed in thought. Could this be but a silly ol’ prank? He didn’t think so. He’d seen some people coming back with fishies earlier, he was sure of it.

“Um, but I’ve been using bait,” Henry noted with a smile, his tone matter-of-fact. He pulled up his line, revealing... something that looked an awful lot like a hand. Uh. “It worked back home with Risen parts, so I thought it’d work with stuff from those zombies we harvested back in that village this last mission but...” Shoulders sink in a sulk, though his smile remains.

“Guess Fodlan fishies don’t care for it. I do have this bucket of wrigglers someone else gave me though, that they swore by. Think they called it ‘herring bait.’ We could give those a shot?”

[ravensnruin]

🔥 Nothing better than an innocent chat before a gentle fire in a chilly evening. "Hello Professor Henry, it is good to see you." In his lap, a handful of blades being thoroughly sharpened. "Do not be alarmed, I am merely keeping the training weapons properly sharp. Not too much, and not too little. Would you like to join me?"

🔥 to gather around a fire with my muse [ fleeting snow ] 

“Mister Seteth!” Henry chirps brightly in return as he sits himself down next to the man. There’s something nice about a warm campfire. It reminds him of evenings spent hovering around the Shepherds in ol Chrommy’s army, daydreaming that one day he might count among their number. . . but things don’t always go as planned.

All the same, he smiles. “Good to see you, too.” Feet extended before him, he hums, when Seteth pipes up again. A single brow is quirked. “Alarmed?” Why ever would he be alarmed? Knives are fun, not scary. Rather, he’s jubilant to be invited so.

“Oh, I’d love to, hee hee! Not too much, and not too little~” he echoes in a singsong, reaching over for one of the blades and a spare implement. Now Henry isn’t much for weapons of any kind, but knives... those, he knows his way around a little. Wouldn’t do to waste precious materials for his favourite experiments. He grins. “Wanna race?”

[ravensnruin]

🎯 nothing can go wrong

🎯 to play darts with my muse [ fleeting snow ] 

“Oh, sure! This sounds like fun!”

And really, how hard could it be? 

The first couple throws went okay. Nothing too exciting, though Henry felt the growing need to impress. “Third’s the charm, nyes?” he noted with his cursory smile. Awkwardly twirling the dart in his hands, he looked up to the board. How hard could it be, he mocked, internally. Harder than he’d imagined, evidently.

Still, Henry was, if anything, somewhat of a persistent bugger. Carefully, he aimed. Carefully, he pictured how his dart would fly true, right into the nice, red little dot smack dab in the center--

Thwack.

It landed in the wood, a good meter off from the board. Dumbfounded more so than embarrassed, Henry blinked in surprise before shaking his head and gathering himself, then going to retrieve his darts. He paused before the last, pointing at the object with a wide smile.

“Look. I got a fly. Just in the wing though... Poor guy’s still alive. Hrm.”

Welp. That could be rectified easily enough.

[ Henry rolled a 2. ]

[ravensnruin]

[ @sheerelixir from here ]

[...]

Once she descends the stairway, the songstress peers into every room and hallway just to put her dutiful mind to rest. Simply practice for a moment, calm down, and go back outside. That’s her plan – or, at least, that was her plan. One minute passes by… then ten… and she loses track of time. Seated in one of the many grand rooms of the lodge, she allows herself to play to her heart’s content! The keys of her flute are cold underneath her fingers, but that might be one of the only moments she doesn’t mind the frigid feel. The–

“Goodness!” Azura exclaims, yanking the flute away from her and turning towards the voice. Her heart’s hammering against her ribs and – with widened eyes and flushed cheeks – she swears that the male wasn’t standing there beforehand. How long had he been here and… heard her…

The compliment catches her off-guard and she can feel her face heat up not even a moment later. This was strange, very strange. What was he talking about? Her hair… a hex? “I–” her sentence is interrupted by a sudden pause, before the young man begins speaking once more. Her gaze shifts down to her flute, then at him, and back to her flute once again. “Uhm… I,” she clears her throat – setting the instrument carefully in her lap – “thank you for the… kind words. Sadly, my hair’s condition is not a hex nor am I sure how to properly ‘use’ one.”

Her shoulders relax and she tilts her head slightly. Azura knows him from somewhere. Well, not know but she recognizes him. Where did she… was it class? He was one of the faculty staff, right? He… er, what was his name?

“My flute,” she pauses, “sorry if I disturbed you by any chance–”

“Disturb? Aw, naw! ‘Course you didn’t,” he assures with a smile, casually waving away the notion like it’s no big deal - which it isn’t! so. “I don’t know if I’d ever heard a flute before... but it has a nice sound, huh.” he can imagine hearing it at like, a graveyard or on a haunted ship or something. just the right pitch, the right potential for eeriness.

delightful - truly. clearly she is a lady of taste.

whoever she is.

“I’m Henry. And you?”

if there’s a chance now that’s he’s the one doing the disturbing, it doesn’t register. he props himself up on a chair and stares, perhaps a touch too expectantly.

there’s something else she said just now that he’s not forgotten, and letting it go unaddressed doesn’t suit him. she doesn’t know how to fling a hex? no problem.

“If you ever wanna learn how to hex people, just ask me. It’s what I’m here for. Hexes are good for all kindsa stuff!” he beams all the brighter, then laughs, possessed of a most wonderful idea: “Or, I can show you my toenail collection, if you’d prefer--”

[ravensnruin]

🌙 or 💸, whichever is fine with you!! <3

🌙 to go dancing in the moonlight with my muse [ fleeting snow ]

it’s nice out. the perfect kind of evening for meandering, even if it’s cold as heckie out there. almost deathly cold, even, some might say -- though he has no intention of perishing this eve. the deserts of plegia are not so far removed at night, so it’s hardly a matter of being ill-acclimatized. plus, he’s got layers.

all in all, he’s good to go. the moonlight shines bright overhead, lighting the way.

he hums as he walks, and before long, he’s kinda, sorta,

lost.

not that he minds. if anything, the clearing ahead is perfect. this kinda eve is great for soaking in moonbeams, energies conducive to some of his favourite hexes. 

and so, stopping in the pristine, untouched meadow of snow, gently falling flakes glittering in the light, henry starts to dance. honestly, he’s never formally learned, so it’s a bit of a flailing spectacle, more like, but there’s no doubt he’s having fun.

finally, with a laugh, he falls into the snow with a poff of powder dusting up, and it’s from this point of view he can tell: he’s no longer alone. the mage sits right up. somewhere nearby, a crow squawks.

“Oh! It’s you! Music girl with the pretty hair.” he beams. scrabbles up to his feet. extends her a hand. “It’s nice out, isn’t it? Dance with me!”

[ravensnruin]

⛄️

send ⛄️ to build a snowman with my muse [ fleeting snow ]

he’s never done this before, but that’s never stopped him. he packs his snow with abandon, higher and higher, giggling, innocently whistling, and cheerfully humming to himself the whole while. even better is that he’s got company, though she’s busying herself with her own snowman. he’d made her promise not to peek ‘til his masterpiece was complete. likewise, he’d keep his peepers to himself.

“Aaaand... presto!”

standing back from affixing one last twig near the bottom, hands on his hips, henry admired his work. not too bad, if he said so himself!

“All done here, Miss Cordelia. If you’re done as well, might I bug ya for a second opinion? Whaddaya think? Could it use More of the red stuff, or is it juuuust the right amount already?”

the snow... creature (?) looms tall, a lumpy thing with sharp teeth and scraggly legs. truly, a chef d’oeuvre. 

[[ trigger warning for (fake) blood n teeth n bug/worm-y thing ]]

[theofficersacademy]

ASK MEMES

Use these to easily jumpstart interactions, but remember to meme supportively and have fun! [ Fleeting Snow info post ]

send 🎣 to grab a fishing rod from the storehouse and try your hand at ice fishing with my muse

send 👀 to accidentally catch my muse changing clothes

send 🏃 to go for a hike in the mountains with my muse

send 😅 to find my muse in the sauna

send 🌌 to search for the aurora with my muse

send 🏊‍♂️ to ignore the warnings around the lake with my muse

send ☕️ to have tea break with my muse

send 🥂 to join my muse in the Wine Room

send ♨️ to relax in the hot springs with my muse

send ⛷ to go skiing 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 play darts with my muse

send ⛄️ to build a snowman with my muse

send ❄️ to have a snowball fight with my muse

send 🌚 to sneak into my muse’s room

send 🔥 to gather around a fire with my muse

send ⚔️ to spar with my muse

send 🎊 to throw a party with my muse

send 💸 to play cards with my muse

send ⛸ to go ice skating with my muse

send 🎹 for my muse to catch yours playing an instrument

send 🌡 for my muse to help yours recover from a cold

send 🏹 to go hunting in the forest with my muse

Or make up your own!

[princessmacedon]

a friend in wolf’s clothing

@ravensnruin @asphuxia

The local cats and dogs of the monastery have been anxious recently. One of the students, who had been known to play with them and leave them food, has recently gone missing. Your investigation into the matter leads you behind the abandoned cathedral, where you find a giant Demonic Wolf crouched over her body. As it licks her hands, growling and whining, you spot a bright pink ribbon tied around its neck, nestled in its matted fur. The wolf takes notice of you, steps forward protectively, and growls low.

A friend of a friend was also someone to look out for – this Maria believed. Even if she didn’t, however, it was still terribly sad to think of the cats and dogs at Garreg Mach that paced and whined so anxiously. They were her friends, and one of their friends had gone missing. She had to do something, or at the very least try; there was a girl out there, lost and alone! 

Detective though she was not, she had managed to find out the girl’s name– and a bit later, the places she frequented. Yet more poking around had brought her to one of the lost girl’s friends, who whispered about a pup she’d been caring for in secret further out. It’s a wild thing, the friend of a friend of a friend had said. Be careful. 

So she was as careful as one could be when immediately trotting off to a place she’d been warned about, creeping along the back edges and bricks warily. It had most definitely been abandoned, ivy slithering lazily up the looming walls. The perfect place for an adventure… or a secret. Quietly, the tiny cleric rounded the corner– but not quietly enough, it seemed. 

She noticed the wolf in the same moment it noticed her, leaning back as it stepped forward. A growl rumbled in its throat as it stopped its advance, instead curling almost protectively around something. A… body? A body, and flashes of vibrant pink around its neck– a ribbon? A body, a ribbon, and a protective wolf; the pieces began to fall into place, and Maria cooed softly, bending her knees slightly, heart aching. The wolf and the girl were friends, surely. If she could befriend it, too, then perhaps she could recover the body and keep the poor pup company. Either way, she could not tell the knights, who would undoubtedly lay it low–

Something crunched behind her, and Maria tossed a frantic look over her shoulder. 

“Wait!” Desperation laced her voice, and the demonic wolf’s slightly lowered hackles raised again. “Don’t hurt it! Please!” 

[ravensnruin]

Maria was not the only one to notice the animals’ plight, their anxiety and their enervation. She was not the only not-detective on the case, either. Holding his arm out, a crow made there its perch, and Henry pet it oh so gently, cooing as it delivered its report. Raising his arm again, the bird took flight, and the mage turned on his heels, boots clicking on the stone below as he went.

The abandoned cathedral, was it...?

Though he’d use most animals up in a curse or hex if the need came up with nary a regret, there was no denying Henry felt a great deal closer to most critters than he ever did to people. If he could get the monastery animals to stop acting all weird n stuff...

It never occurred to him someone else might beat him to the punch. He rounded the corner to a low growl and blinked as he faced someone’s back. More pressing than that, though:

“Hooooo that’s a big wolfie,” he hummed appreciatively, stepping around Maria but staying put as the creature leaned forward in threat, a clear and simple warning writ in the snarl of its maw. Back off.

Or else.

“I’m not here to hurt you, big fella,” he cooed, his voice soft, placating... but my, this was quite the situation, wasn’t it? That over there sure looked as much like a body as any he’d seen - and Henry had seen more than his fair share - and this critter, well, cutesy ribbon or not... 

“You should go,” he hissed to the girl. “I don’t think our friend here is in the mood for games. Unless...”

He hummed in thought. Glanced about. Crouched slowly to the ground, picked up a stick, and without much fanfare, tossed it away.

Well. That didn’t do much, in the end, and did even less to endear the creature to them, as its snarled redoubled. Oopsie.

@asphuxia

[ravensnruin]

for a good caws

incursionparagon​:

Though others might not have expected it from one as uptight as she, Cordelia was quickly becoming accustomed to many of the mage’s eccentricities, albeit still baffled by many more. For instance, ‘as smart as a crow’ was something she recognized as a glowing compliment, whereas ‘no take-backsies’ gifted her with little more than a vague sense of foreboding. She was going to regret that, wasn’t she?

“Your treat, hmm?” A kind offer, and one she accepted as graciously as she planned to repay it, for there would surely be a next time (she hoped). “Well then, thank you, Henry. Is there anything that tickles your fancy?” Put like that, it sounded almost as if she was the one who would be treating him… but there was no harm in getting ideas from him– specifically about food– was there? Fódlan still had so many regional meals to offer, she scarcely knew where to start. And then her train of thought was ever so gracefully thrown off course.

“Henry!” She gasped, nigh scandalized, florid hair paling against the vibrant flush of her cheeks. “Why would you…” No, actually, she didn’t want that answer. Her question fell off with a heavy sigh, gaze pointedly drifting over the nearing markets. “Ahem. In any case, I’m…” Was she a Shepherd? They had existed long before she had joined Chrom’s forces, and upon the orders of her captain, no less. She had accompanied them, but was she one of them?

…Ah, how silly. She already knew what her prince would say if asked– knew it as truly as she knew that (un)gentle ache in her heart.

“I’m still a Shepherd no matter where I am,” Cordelia concluded, smiling faintly at the distant crowds. Her gaze flickered to her cheery companion. “Same as you. But to answer your question: I aim to become captain of my order someday. I’ll no doubt have to train a number of new recruits by the time that day comes. Here, I can both learn and learn to teach.” Fixing him with a quizzical look, she turned her attention to him in full. “But what about you? Somehow I’m not surprised to see you here, but as a professor?” 

Henry shook his head. “Everything here is way better than all the stuff I was eating on my own. You won’t find me bein’ picky, no-sirree!” That wasn’t super helpful though, was it? His brow wrinkled lightly in thought as he mulled over it further. “Do you have a favourite food, Miss Corrrdelia? Anything that the mere thought of makes you feel a lil’ peckish?”

There. Now he’d answered suitably, he was sure. And it wasn’t like he’d lied in any way, shape, or form - anything and everything they could get out here was a step above his usual fare. Mind you, wasn’t like he didn’t have a special fondness for bugs and the like, and the crunch of their little bodies, but they took so much effort for so little return. . . And if he cheated and used magic, they simply didn’t taste the same.

The mage’s smile but widened at the knight’s gasp. Mayhap he found some delight in being able to tease so easily, without even trying. Or maybe it was just the colour in her cheeks - red, like blood, heat, rising to the skin’s surface... Heh.

His smugness did not last.

Same as you.

His steps came to a halt. He wrinkled his nose. I’m still a Shepherd no matter where I am. Same as you. The way she said it so easily, with such assurance. He could almost believe it. Not like Cordelia had any reason to lie to him, right? Not when he’d made himself so useful at the Shepherds’ side during the war. He gulped. Then turned on his heels. “If you don’t have anyplace in mind, let’s try this one out! It smells yummy, hee hee!”

He had, of course, been paying attention despite his sudden pause. As he strolled toward the small building, stopping just outside, he beamed back. “Captain Cordelia! Has a nice ring to it if ya ask me~” Perusing the menu scrawled on the board before the entrance, he scratched at his face idly and hummed and hawwed.

“As for myself... Well I’ve had quite enough of being a student. Thought I’d try something new.”

Keep smiling and no one will ever suspect anything.

And besides, not like he was lying here, either. (He’d never lied before and wasn’t about to start!)

“Not like I have any kiddos, so I gotta pass on my knowledge to someone, right? Legacies, and all that. I mean, that’s the same as you with your order, right? To be remembered, and have your name go down in history...!”

He beamed all the brighter. Yeah. That sounded nice.

[ravensnruin]

for a good caws

incursionparagon​:

She could hear the pun perfectly well, even without his emphasis. Despite what her comrades might think of her, what with her usual focused countenance and all that, she did enjoy her fair share of humor– she may very well have even enjoyed this pun, to an extent, had it not been her own name across the entirety of her class rosters at stake. Caught between the desire to pinch the bridge of her nose and an exasperated, fond, and exasperatedly fond half-smile, the redhead settled for simply shaking her head. 

“You don’t have to force yourself on my account, Henry.” Well, not too much, at least; she did hope that he would still keep it out of her students’ earshot. “I’ll tell you what: I’ll give you special permission to call me Crowdelia in your head, and maybe even out loud now and again, just so long as my students don’t.” She paused to smile at him, gently, almost playfully. “Alright?” 

And that was that.

Although she had allowed their disparate classes to merge, Cordelia was still relieved when it came time for their students to hang up their training lances and… well, Fodlan didn’t appear to use spellbooks, but metaphorically speaking– and watched as the students flocked back to the shade of the academy’s halls. She did not turn when Henry approached, but still cast him a glance as he drew to a halt at her side. 

“I’m alright,” she replied easily– almost teasingly, given the difference in their energy, but who could say?– and at last turned to face him as the last of their students scurried out of sight. “You know, Henry, I was thinking that this might actually be beneficial to both of our classes if we do it right. Our subjects are as different as night and day, but that’s precisely why having to spar against each other might be good for them… Don’t you think?” 

Ah, but gods, did he look tired, now that she looked more closely. Had she gone overboard in making him run laps as well? Cheery as he was by nature, Cordelia had to wonder if he wasn’t more exhausted than he’d let on.

“Well, I suppose we can hold off on that discussion for a little while longer. Especially since it’s the middle of the day…” She smiled again. “Would you like to talk over lunch?”

“Aw, it’s no biggie, Cordelia. Really.”

What did he live for, if not to aim to please?

But with special permission came temptation, and he gnawed on his lower lip in thought, conflicted. First she had wanted him not to use the name, and now she didn’t care? People could be so confusing...

“Well, okidoke then, nyaha!” He wouldn’t ask again. “No take-backsies!”

And then, after being all nice and stuff, Cordelia up and tried to kill him.

Sort of. But then the running came to an end and much to his surprise he’d made it through, next to no croaking involved. How ‘bout Them apples?

Upon being addressed, the dark mage quirked a brow, his attention fully hers. In return, heedless of his fatigue, he nodded most emphatically-- “Yes, yes, yes! I do think! My, quite the stroke of genius, Miss Cordelia! As smart as a crow!”

(A compliment, lest anyone wonder.)

Hmmm... Lunch sounded especially good right about now, in truth. “Yes, let’s! Before we get ourselves any rumbly tummies...” He hummed as they walked, an old ditty he’d picked up from a schoolmate way back when. Then: “It’ll be my treat! We can go wherever you’d like!”

It was kind of nice, albeit foreign, to have something of a disposable income. He hadn’t even had to raid the graveyard here yet in hopes of finding some treasure or another to pawn off for his next meal. Next time, it’d be not for funds, but for Fun! He was looking forward to it already.

“Sooo,” he mused aloud as they neared the markets, a pensive finger posed on his chin, “what madecha want to teach, anyhow? I’d have thought you’d have preferred to stay at home with Chrommy-wommy and all the rest of you Shepherds.”

Sometimes, as he drifted off to sleep, Henry fancied it might have been nice to be one of them - a Shepherd.

Hm.

[incursionparagon]

ravensnruin​:

How could something as simple as juice prove so satisfying? Henry sips and savours, feeling oh so happy. Cordelia had gotten him a juice! Just for him! She’s so nice. Part of him wonders why that is, but that thought is viciously stamped away into oblivion in favour of his ever present smile.

But when she mentions his appearance, brows lift and he glances down. “Huh. I hadn’t noticed, haha!” He’d noted the blood, of course, but looking closer… His cookies… She presses something else into his hands - a rag, he notes with some disappointment that it isn’t a second drink - and he contemplates it idly.

What does she want him to do with that?

Nose scrunches in confusion, and he almost, almost verges on remembering she’d hinted at him cleaning up - alas, her suggestion had been spoken perhaps too gently, for the topic of battle is far more interesting a prospect and commandeers his attention with the force of a tsunami.

“Nyaha, it’s fine!” he notes, waving her apology aside. “There will be more battles.” Of that, he’s sure. There will always be more battles. Humans are fun and predictable like that. Brows shoot up even further however, as Cordelia admits to the nature of her defeat. “Wooowwieee, it was a student what did you in?” He whistles appreciatively. “Welp, we all have our off days, tee hee! But if you want me to hex them for you as payback…”

The offer lingers, and he hopes the temptation proves too strong to ignore.

As for him…

“Oh, it was great! I had lots and lots of fun! I was up against a student too, actually. He started us off with a pretty feeble swing, so I returned the favour like BZZZZZZ, Swarm is a classic, you know? Unnerve your opponent and then go in for the kill!” He pauses. Amends with a cough. “The not-kill. Anyway and so I blasted him with a couple good Death spells, hehehe! But he got me too.”

As anyone with eyes could plainly see.

Henry goes on reenacting the fight, sparing no bloody detail,

“and then finally, WHAM, he wound up and punched me right in the gut! I thought I was gonna die, nyahaha! He looked like he wanted to reach right in there and grab my-” someone knocked something over nearby, the noise briefly drowning him out “-right from out of my tummy. It was quite something.”

His epic come to a conclusion, he hums in thought. “It was fun, but I kinda wish it had lasted longer…”

His juice finished, he glances down at the rag in his hand, as though noticing it for the first time. Right. What was he doing with this, again?

To any passersby unfamiliar with the mage’s many quirks, it may very well be alarming to hear just how cheerfully he reassures her she has plenty more chances to get grievously injured; to Cordelia, however, it’s charming in that distinctly Henry way of his, prising from her a lopsided smile… and then she grimaces. 

“Yes, I’m well aware,” she admits with a wince. It most certainly was an off day– for her and her javelin both– but the training that would unquestionably come as a result of it would have to wait a while longer. “But it’s fine, Henry. Really. It was a fair fight; we both did our best, and today I was the loser. That’s all.” A pause, and then her eyes crinkle at the corners, cognizant of the friendly intent behind the offer. “I appreciate the sentiment, though.” 

Having surely disappointed him with her lack of need for his hexes, the pegasus knight shifts her weight to one leg, arms crossing as she readies herself to hear his exuberant recounting of the battle. He tells his tale with no small amount of glee, complete with hand gestures and sound effects, and at last the final remnants of her consternation fade from her countenance. ‘Not-kill’ earns a faint lift of her brow, but it’s all in jest, a tiny smile following quickly after. 

“It is a classic,” Cordelia hums in agreement– and then sighs when she catches the way he stares at the rag she’d passed him, utterly befuddled.

“Oh, give that here.” Stealing it back, she wipes at a few of the more offensive splotches of… cookies on his tunic. It will still need a thorough washing (and mending) later, but the worst of it is gone, and she folds the fabric in on itself. “You haven’t actually rested yet, have you? I’ll go put this…” She wrinkles her nose at the rag. “…away, and see if I can’t find something for you to eat. In the meantime, you go lie down. Alright? I’ll be back in just a moment.”

And before her fellow Shepherd is allowed a chance to react, she’s off.

[ravensnruin]

from here @incursionparagon

Not one to waste time, Cordelia moves onto the next order of business the moment Henry accepts the drink: fetching him a rag to clean off his face, at least (my, but he does look a bit of a mess right now). As the mage revels in his drink, she looks around; it does not take long to find something, and by the time he’s happily crowing away again, she’s already pressing it into his hands.

“Just for you, Henry,” she says. “And here, this too, if you’d like to clean up a bit more. You’re still rather dirty.” It was to be expected on a day like this, but she imagines even Henry doesn’t relish the stink of... whatever’s speckling his sleeves overmuch-- and then she laughs briefly, faint but fond.

“Just a bit.” A smile plays at her lips, her head tipping forward and to the side in feigned apology. “Forgive me? If I’d known you’d be here so soon, I’d have asked the healers to wait.” The pegasus knight pauses for a beat, heaving a disappointed sigh. “Unfortunately, it wouldn’t have been much even if they had. The student I went up against only needed a couple of shots before it was better for me to leave the field.” Concise, well aimed... and utterly embarrassing. Another sigh, heavy and laden with frustration, the flip side of the coin of fervent self-improvement. “I did get in one passable blow, at least.” And one pathetic one. “And you?”

A second glance tells her that whoever his opponent had been, they hadn’t let him off easy, and she lifts a brow. However battered Henry looks, she’s sure he’d not let his opponent off easy.

How could something as simple as juice prove so satisfying? Henry sips and savours, feeling oh so happy. Cordelia had gotten him a juice! Just for him! She’s so nice. Part of him wonders why that is, but that thought is viciously stamped away into oblivion in favour of his ever present smile.

But when she mentions his appearance, brows lift and he glances down. “Huh. I hadn’t noticed, haha!” He’d noted the blood, of course, but looking closer... His cookies... She presses something else into his hands - a rag, he notes with some disappointment that it isn’t a second drink - and he contemplates it idly.

What does she want him to do with that?

Nose scrunches in confusion, and he almost, almost verges on remembering she’d hinted at him cleaning up - alas, her suggestion had been spoken perhaps too gently, for the topic of battle is far more interesting a prospect and commandeers his attention with the force of a tsunami.

“Nyaha, it’s fine!” he notes, waving her apology aside. “There will be more battles.” Of that, he’s sure. There will always be more battles. Humans are fun and predictable like that. Brows shoot up even further however, as Cordelia admits to the nature of her defeat. “Wooowwieee, it was a student what did you in?” He whistles appreciatively. “Welp, we all have our off days, tee hee! But if you want me to hex them for you as payback...”

The offer lingers, and he hopes the temptation proves too strong to ignore.

As for him...

“Oh, it was great! I had lots and lots of fun! I was up against a student too, actually. He started us off with a pretty feeble swing, so I returned the favour like BZZZZZZ, Swarm is a classic, you know? Unnerve your opponent and then go in for the kill!” He pauses. Amends with a cough. “The not-kill. Anyway and so I blasted him with a couple good Death spells, hehehe! But he got me too.”

As anyone with eyes could plainly see.

Henry goes on reenacting the fight, sparing no bloody detail,

“and then finally, WHAM, he wound up and punched me right in the gut! I thought I was gonna die, nyahaha! He looked like he wanted to reach right in there and grab my-” someone knocked something over nearby, the noise briefly drowning him out “-right from out of my tummy. It was quite something.”

His epic come to a conclusion, he hums in thought. “It was fun, but I kinda wish it had lasted longer...”

His juice finished, he glances down at the rag in his hand, as though noticing it for the first time. Right. What was he doing with this, again?

[ravensnruin]

Though Cordelia is caught between shame and self-reflection as she looks back upon her earlier performance, it is most decidedly surprise that brings her to a halt when a familiar face enters the medical tent. Of all people to fall in the first round, she had not expected one to be Henry. He was as fearsome a mage as they came... and he looked like he needed a juice box. Taking one for each of them, the knight approached, holding one out to him. "Henry? I didn't think I'd see you here so soon."

Hers was not a unique surprise - brows lifted as Henry, too, recognized a familiar face he’d not been expecting to see so soon. Delight soon replaces any confusion, however, and he takes the proffered juice box without any insistence.

“Joosy woosy for me? Aww, Cordelia, I’m tickled pink. Or, like, red in this case, I suppose, nya ha!”

Honestly, he was a bit of a sight: between the strips of red from that boy’s blade and the colourful rainbow he’d spewed following his foe’s helluva punch to his gut, and the time he’d taken to scuttle along back to the infirmary whilst he looked his wounds over with no small fascination...

well. Maybe a bath would be in order sooner rather than later.

First things first though: juice.

He takes a long, content sip. His tummy is still a bit unhappy and rumbly, but oh well. He could hex it away later if it kept on. “I could say the same to you though, Miss Cordelia... What was your fight like? Ooooh, was it bloody? Please say it was!”

[ravensnruin]

alfvangr​:

     Evasion was never an option, it seems, not when they’ve been practically in each other’s faces from the start. Alfonse literally stares Death in the eyes ( though the phrase had lost its charm after the first few times ) before the magic tears into him anew, and it takes all the effort he can muster to stay standing despite the spots in his vision and growing nausea.

[ Enemy roll: 21 (critical hit); -2 HP -> 0.5 HP remaining ]

     Perhaps it was the sight of the skulls brought about by Henry’s magic, the experience of battling Hel still fresh enough to twist something inside the prince. Briefly, Gronder Field is replaced with the barren landscape of Death’s domain until it fades with a blink; by then he’s already thrown himself at the dark mage with a hoarse yell bordering on a scream, driving the pommel of his sword into Henry’s gut with significant force.

[ Player roll: 20 (critical hit); predicted dmg: 2+0.5 (Atk boon) = -2.5 HP ]

     ( he’ll feel bad about it later, once he’s regained his senses. )

A direct hit! Giddy, Henry admires his work. Almost wants to clap his hands he’s so satisfied with it, but he knows better than to stop there. His next spell is already coalescing into being, and a particularly potent hex sits on the tip of his tongue should that fail to bear fruit. If there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s the one thing people keep him around for: war.

Or so he thought.

[ Enemy roll: 20 (critical hit); -2.5 damage. Henry’s HP: -1/4 ... defeated ]

The student before him takes on a feral kind of a look. Henry finds he likes it. A lot.

Right up until it heralds his own doom, and he reacts too slow: preceded by a yell, pommel connects with his gut and Henry blacks out for a second. When he comes to a moment later, he’s on the ground on all fours (minus his bloodied hand gingerly clutching his stomach) and he feels... ick. It’s not so much that it’s painful, per se (Henry’s about forgotten what pain feels like), but it’s distinctly unpleasant.

“My... cookies,” he groans,

and oop, there they go.

[ravensnruin]

alfvangr​:

     It never quite ceases to disturb to some extent, that Henry can act in such a flippantly cheerful manner regardless of circumstance. The mage moves as if his recently acquired injury isn’t even there for how he casually puts distance between himself and his opponent, letting another spell fly shortly after. Clouds of noxious mist spew from the skull’s jaw, causing his senses to burn with the dark magic’s potency; hacking coughs rattle Alfonse’s movements though do not fully stop them in their determination to keep Henry within striking range.

[ Enemy roll: 18 (hit); -1 HP -> 2.5/4 HP remaining ]

     Willing himself to endure, iron flashes under the midday sun to leave another shallow slice in thinly-protected flesh. One of them will have to fold before long as the most inevitable of foes sets in—and for his part, he does not intend to lose. “I can still fight…!”

[ Player roll: 9 (barely hit); predicted dmg: 0.5+0.5 (from Atk boon) = -1 HP ]

“I would sure hope so, we’ve barely had enough fun yet,” Henry replies with a chortle of amusement. Oh, but he is having fun, and lots of it, but he wants more, more, more...! Surely, there’s oodles of entertainment awaiting out on the field, what with the sheer number of opponents to bleed dry. . .

Or like whatever the next best thing is, he supposes, Cordelia’s voice admonishing him in the back of his head. Ugh.

[ Enemy damage: -1HP -> 1.5/4 HP remaining ]

And with such delightful thoughts in mind, he feels (but doesn’t feel) the bite of Alfonse’s blade anew, the likes of which he only registers when his hand retreats from the wound in question and comes back red.

He giggles, slightly hunched over as he admires the red, red, red, before redressing himself and launching that same hand forward, another Death spell at the ready and all the more potent for the other’s proximity.

Die.

(Henry attacks with Death! Dex boon. Roll: 21 (19+2) Potential damage: crit! -2HP)

Wait, no, don’t die.

(That would probably be bad. Henry likes it here at Garreg Mach.)