let's have a little fun

it's just you and me here

[ruinedskys]

ᴀ ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ ʀᴘ ʙʟᴏɢ ғᴏʀ sʏʟᴠᴀɪɴ ᴊᴏsᴇ ɢᴀᴜᴛɪᴇʀ ᴏғ ғɪʀᴇ ᴇᴍʙʟᴇᴍ: ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ʜᴏᴜsᴇs

𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝗒 𝖼𝗂𝗋𝗂. 𝗍𝗈𝖺 𝖺𝖿𝖿𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 - 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍

mun .ᐟ dossieɾ .ᐟ inteɾview .ᐟ stɑts .ᐟ thread tracker .ᐟ

♘ ︵ 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ◦

In line with TOA’s guidelines, Sylvain is pre-timeskip. He presents himself as a carefree flirt, always with a few ladies dangling on his hook. Sylvain is someone who deeply despises his own circumstances and the Crest system that determines power / inheritances. He’s cynical in the sense that he operates thinking that the women he loves to toy with are awful opportunists with no redeemable qualities. It’s very I will hurt you because you deserve it, and he has little empathy to give on the matter. 

For in game supports, I will assume that they have not happened unless we want to incorporate a preexisting dynamic / tension / friendship between our characters. If this is the case, then feel free! I just want to make sure that we're on the same page.

Sylvain will likely flirt with any female muse he comes in contact with- but please let me know if you dislike this and I will tone it down for you. I need to stress that Sylvain is very unserious even if he’s making flowery declarations of love or talks about proposals - and having this kind of attention from him can also be a bad sign. It’s mentioned in the game that Sylvain hates the women he dates, and I will be adhering to this for the time being. 

Will Sylvain flirt with men? Sure! but truly I think more subtly / friendly since a big part of Sylvain is the expectation that he’ll marry a nice noble lady and have crest babies to inherit his family responsibilities. It’s why he has a distaste for the women that show interest in him - because they just want to move up in the world! They look at Sylvain and see status, and then he’ll be a part of the system that has done him (and his sibling) so dirty. Shallow, shallow….. but can men have his crest babies? No. Therefore his mean spirited flirtations with women and skirt chasing in general will remain a stark difference that applies to female muses. (Forever crying at the difference in his dialogue for f!byleth vs m!byleth…never change Sylvain) 

Shipping. I’m not averse to shipping in general, but I do want to point out that Sylvain has a ton of baggage attached to his relationships with others. He has a lot of growth to do in that area and isn’t really looking to address it so much as keep doing what he’s doing. So romantic endeavors with him will be considered flings unless otherwise discussed and anyone looking for something More will need to be prepared for Sylvain-level cruelty and self-sabotage. 

Asks. Always open! 

[ruinedskys]

𝗚𝗢 𝗧𝗢 𝗝𝗔𝗜𝗟. 𝗚𝗢 𝗗𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗟𝗬 𝗧𝗢 𝗝𝗔𝗜𝗟.

nos mutamur in illis | district 9 | sylvain/skoll | week 2

[sollvarg]

HE AIN'T SURE WHETHER TO BE SKEPTICAL OR IMPRESSED.　☼　a regular human stronger than a retainer of shadow wasn't heard of, so if he couldn't break down the door in his real form, what was going on here? it's when sylvain explains somethin' about a ' gift ' though that things make sense and the grin fully returns to lupine features. "that don't sound too different from sinking into shadow." but himself? he's about to say he's got all the gifts he needs from fenris herself, but then he remembers something, a feeling he'd forgotten after the first day or so of being on this island. like a call from the past, the sense that he had something else he could do that wasn't normal, and wanting to find out what exactly it was and how he could use it, comes back to him.

". . . yeah. i think i got something too," he says, sounding less certain as he brushes past the other to head into the now-open jail cell, distracted by the potential of the dead body. "but it ain't transforming. that's natural. i'm a wolf after all, not a human."

couching down beside the corpse, he starts feeling around. still a little warm, rigor mortis settin' in but not completely taken over the body yet. "few hours, tops," he says to himself, but enough for sylvain to hear. plucking up an arm, he drops it and watches it fall lifelessly to the floor again, and starting to take apart the clothes yields nothing interestin' either ; if it really was a criminal that'd been kept in here, there's no sign of how he'd died, even when skoll rolls the body over completely to check the backs and sides. no injuries 'cept the ones on his head and hands, and those aren't ones that coulda killed him. nah, those had been used for. . .

blue eyes drift back to the door, now busted off its hinges and lying in a mangled heap in the corridor. a quick look tells him there ain't anything else in the rest of the cell, but, speakin' of weird gifts:

an idea suddenly in mind, he looks back down at the body, then swipes up some of the half-dried blood from the poor sucker's hand. without preamble, he gets up and picks his way over debris to the door, touching it with his other. the words on it had been scrawled in blood, so. . .

and with that thought, he watches them magically fill in, stretching across the gaps and smears to form a legible line. brows arch with pleasure——who would've thought that'd really work. "well, well, would ya look at that." and, crouching to read them, he takes in the ravings of someone desperate enough to scrawl a message with his own blood: The rules, the rules. Like a perfectly balanced ledger, Give and take. Life and death. I've burned the past to free myself from the shackles of this world.

free himself from the shackles of this world, huh. . . ? sounds desperate for sure. head turns to glance back at the body ; so the guy had taken himself out, somehow. but what kinda rules was he so obsessed with? "too bad. if i'd found him a little earlier, maybe he would've had a chance."

[ruinedskys]

That’s…” Incredible? Weird? Shouldn’t be possible. All apply, and yet he cuts the thought off with an audible click of his teeth. As strange as it is to see Skoll use a man’s blood like some advanced, secret code language - it can only be chalked up to the same being that granted him extra powers.

Selfishly, he takes the time to balk at his own ability again. Other people can manipulate emotion and other people’s blood, but he can get really, really small?

…Figures.

All that aside, he files away the knowledge that Skoll’s beast form is something he can always do, staring so intently at the new writing on the wall that he goes a little fuzzy at the edges. “Yeah. Doesn’t look like he wanted the chance, though.” Not that the man - Fiach - looked any more at peace where he lay dead on the ground. A shame. “You’ve got a neat skill,” Sylvain glances his way, surprised that Skoll is still standing nearby. “Wonder what it means.”

“It does look like this place isn’t the paradise it’s supposed to be.”

No, that doesn’t sound right either. Baile wasn’t known to struggle, and it’s not easy to keep something like this a secret either. “The shackles of this world,” He reads the words slowly, frowning. “It’s kinda like their Goddess turned her back on this place. The one that rules here.” Suddenly, the famine that he’d read about seems less like the past and more like the near future.

Or maybe the dream has made him paranoid. Resting his arms behind his head, he steps over pieces of rubble, like he’s ready to leave. “Have you heard anything about a Disciple?” It was as good a next move as any, even if Sylvain doesn’t necessarily want to backtrack towards the church.

[ruinedskys]

𝗚𝗢 𝗧𝗢 𝗝𝗔𝗜𝗟. 𝗚𝗢 𝗗𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗟𝗬 𝗧𝗢 𝗝𝗔𝗜𝗟.

nos mutamur in illis | district 9 | sylvain/skoll | week 2

[sollvarg]

NONE OF THE OTHER CELLS HAD ANYTHING USEFUL EITHER.　☼　in fact, none of them had much to begin with. it was like no one'd been in these spaces for a long time ; the bloodstains he inspects on the walls and floor and old crumbs kicked around with his boot are who-knows-how-old. guess they didn't have a lot of criminals here after all——or, thinkin' back to the thief from last night, they just weren't very good at catching them.

stepping back out to try the locked door again, skoll starts when he realizes he's alone. "huh? where'd he go?" hadn't that guy just been here. . . frowning, he finds him again when he peers back to check on the prisoner again. "what the. . . how'd you get in there?" door handle rattles. "is he alive?"

the human glances up from where he's crouched near the body. "probably from the same place you got your dissolving key." dissolving? what was he talking about? "no, he's dead. looks recent."

hopes sink. "how recent?" his next jiggle of the handle is more demanding, shaking the wood against its stone foundations. "let me in there with ya!"

"how would i know? a few hours? a little more? less than a day. . . " right, humans couldn't smell or hear anythin'. all the more reason he had to get in there and see for himself. as the other comes up to the door, he steps back expectantly, but a few seconds pass and it still doesn't open. instead, an uncertain voice comes from the other side: "it's, uh. . . guess it doesn't work twice in one day. got anything up your sleeve for this?"

he's gotta be kidding. skoll thinks, but he'd already used his key on the door to get in here, and he ain't got a spare. nothing else was going to budge a door this heavy either. except maybe the strength of shadow.

"could always try ripping it off its hinges," he suggests with some eagerness. in a ripple of distending skin and sinew, a ragged-furred wolf stands where he did, feral claws knife-sharp as he bunches his fists and lunges at the door without further ado. heedless of noise or decorum, he gouges and slashes into the wood, feeling it crack and splinter under his hands. chunks of it bow and fly out, but after a few scores, he finds his claws hitting bars of iron. much sturdier than wood, they run parallel in lines, reinforcing the door against the walls. even if he tore all the wood off, there still wouldn't be enough space for him to squeeze through. "this metal ain't making it easy."

after one more look, he gives up with a dismissive sound, resuming his more humanoid form and losing interest, turning his back to start to leave. he'd come here to have a nice chat with any inmates, maybe turn some of 'em over to shadow. "well, if he's dead, then there's no use sticking around." might as well try to find that thief instead. "what a waste."

[ruinedskys]

Goddess. 

While it’s not like him to reach so quickly for Fodlan’s deity, it’s the only word that comes to mind in the split second that Skoll’s animalistic traits seem to overpower him. No, it’s more than that. Sylvain might not be an expert, but the transformation is seamless. Intentional? He takes a cautious step back, wincing at the sharp sound of claws scrapping iron because he feels that sound in his teeth for some reason. 

‘This metal ain’t making it easy’. It’s Skoll alright - it sounds like him even if the voice has dropped into a rumbling, growling timbre, like each word scrapes from his throat in the same way his claws arc on the doorframe. 

Could he do that at will? It’s more that what Sylvain can do for sure, blinking when the fur recedes into flesh like nothing he’s ever seen before. Nudging closer to the door (still locked, unfortunately), he can even see that his hands are as pale and perfect as they were before. Not a scratch or bruise! 

…and he’s walking away. Just gonna leave me in here? He thinks it but doesn’t say it out loud because it’s the obvious intent. “Alright.” He checks the ground. Still bloody, and the body behind him is just getting colder. If he can’t get under it… “Okay. This'll be easy.” Skoll couldn’t brute force the door, but Sylvain is pretty sure that he can. What was his skill? Impossible strength? Finding a grip on the doorframe, one hand curled around the little peephole, he grits his teeth and imagines that impossible strength. 

It’s instant. 

“...” He thinks he makes a sound. A gasp, a half-aborted curse as the door rips itself from the wall and he’s stumbling forward with the sudden freedom. In his hands is the entire frame, chunks of the wall still hanging on. Wide-eyed lets go, unmoving as it drops heavily to the ground, shaking the floor at his feet, kicking up a cloud of dust. 

"wow, how'd ya do that? that's pretty crazy strong for a human." 

Imagine that, Skoll’s back. Sylvain rubs his eyes in an attempt to keep the debris from getting in them. “If I would have known it was that easy, I’d have done that first.” He says, because it’s what he’s thinking. He’d wasted his skill of being small too early, because having extra strength hadn’t really meant anything until he was trapped. 

Was this what it was like to be Dimitri all the time? “Hah,” The thought brings a bit of humor and color back to his expression. “I told you I got a couple extra skills from that boat dream. I didn’t know how that one worked until now. What about you? That wolf thing you did- that’s you? Or your extra Baile gift?” Gifts are what he’s begun to call them in his head. Whether he trusts the source or not…they are useful.

[ruinedskys]

𝗚𝗢 𝗧𝗢 𝗝𝗔𝗜𝗟. 𝗚𝗢 𝗗𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗟𝗬 𝗧𝗢 𝗝𝗔𝗜𝗟.

nos mutamur in illis | district 9 | sylvain/skoll | week 2

[sollvarg]

ANY REGULAR HUMAN CIVILIZATION HAD CRIMINALS ,　☼　the same way that any source of light cast shadows. so far, he'd seen it in that girl who'd evaded capture to steal food, so he knew this island wasn't as happy-go-lucky as it seemed. he'd always had a good instinct for these kinds of things, and his nose was telling him that that's precisely where he should start. if anyone would know what was goin' on more deeply with this island, it'd be the people who'd been burned by it.

night has grown long when he approaches the town hall. the last stragglers have gone inside, and the bustling heart of the district, plunged into darkness, is dead silent. only the calls of occasional crows and the rustle of laundry lines in the wind herald the arrival of the wolf. blue eyes gleaming phosphorescent under the moon, he eyes the modest structure ahead——a tip earlier had told him the island jail was here, made out of the basement of the building where everyone gathered.

long before his hand rests on the door handle and turns it, he knows there's someone else inside. heard it, through the shuffling beyond the walls and windows, and smelled it, a lingering scent trailing through the entryway, nice and fresh. so he's not the one who stands there bug-eyed when he steps through the threshold, grinning ear to ear as he closes the door behind him nice and easy.

that red-haired human from the whole deal with the potions. . . he knew the scent was familiar. last time, he hadn't posed much of a threat ; he doubted it'd be any different this time. whatever. he didn't care who saw him go in and out of the jail. obviously, he wasn't the only one hopin' to get in. "most people, huh? so what're you doing here then?" but in the way he crosses over to the single iron-barred door on the other side and stoops to immediately inspect the keyhole, he's not really interested in the question or its answer. producing a small, brass key from his pocket, he doesn't waste time before trying it.

"presto," he whispers under his breath at the click. the door swings open to stale, stony air inside. it's smaller than he thought, just a short corridor ending in a quick dead end. a few thick cell doors line either side from here, open——he heads inside without waiting for the other guy or closing the way behind him, making his way straight to the back with only a passing glance to a few of the other cells, all empty. just one of the doors was shut, tucked away where no one could see, and peering through the small opening near the top reveals a human being held, lying on his back on the floor, bandages peeking through in a few places.

"heh. . . looks like you really ran out of luck, ending up here," he says, smiling, looking for any response. "hey, you in there. you hearing me?"

[ruinedskys]

Bewildered into silence, his lips seal shut as he follows the wolf-man into the dimly lit basement. Which wasn’t doing much for those who said his self-preservation skills were nonexistent but this was just too good to pass up. What were the odds of someone having a key in their pocket like that? 

On the flip side…it’s a standard looking kind of jail. Maybe nicer or newer, he can’t tell. Despite Jannik’s assertion that there were more and more thieves roaming around, it was mostly empty. Which either meant that whoever was in charge of catching criminals wasn’t very good or that the system itself was lacking. “Still expected more…” He whispers to himself, looking over Skoll’s shoulder to see who he’s talking to. 

It’s a man, that much is certain, but he fails to respond. 

From here, his narrowed gaze can’t pick up whether he’s breathing or not. “Hey, c’mon and wake up! We’ve got a few questions.” He speaks a little louder, his voice ringing back from the stones. Only his voice, since the person inside didn’t so much as flinch. 

That sucks, he thinks, turning to ask Skoll whether he has another key for this door to find the swish of a blue tail disappearing into one of the open cells. “Right,” He breathes. “We didn’t exactly come here together.” Not allies and not enemies, but Sylvain couldn’t expect Skoll to hand around and wait for suggestions either. 

Alone, he braces his hand on the doorframe and shoves it back with as much strength as he can. Like the other door, the hinges don’t so much as creak for the effort - silent and taunting. “Okay…what’s next…” What would a regular scout be looking for in this situation? A way in - the bars up top are small enough for a mouse to fit through, but they’re high. Dropping to his knees, he presses his cheek onto the (strangely) clean floor and is immediately relieved to see the body through the gap. 

Yunaka had said that it’d make him good for getting into places others couldn’t. Taking a deep breath and looking over his shoulder to confirm that the wolf has yet to appear back in the hallway, he prepares himself for how the world grows around him with alarming speed. The shrinking does nothing to his joints or bones, but he still has to steady himself for how his smaller eyes can see pieces of dust in the corner of what looked like a clean floor. 

From here, it’s too easy to slide through the bottom of the door. 

On this side of the door, the first thing he sees is the blood. Covering the man’s hands and awkwardly matted in his hair and on the sides of his face. His eyes are open wide. “Huh…that’s bad luck.” If his voice is small and quiet, then it’s because his body is similarly small. Suppressing a shiver, he uses the extra agility he has to leap onto the dead man’s leg, searching the body. Like a thief or a bandit for real…

In his pockets are a piece of paper that’s too hard to read from this angle and something metal - a brooch. “Getting somewhere after all.” He has the sense to back up enough that he doesn’t trip over the body when he returns to his normal size again, picking up the items and pocketing them. 

[ruinedskys]

They're not too far from the beach, so running into Sylvain again isn't that much of a surprise. What is surprising though is how he looks. He'd seemed stressed when they talked, but she didn't remember him looking this bad.

Yunaka blinks slowly. "Woah. Uh...rough night, buddy? You're not looking so hot."

"Hey, ouch." The answering peel of laughter is cut off as his hand swipes over his face and into his hair. It doesn't feel like he's disfigured...but maybe sleeping on the ground has his hair too overdone. As he attempts to smooth it back down, he rolls his shoulders back. "Not even a little hot? Can't say anyone's ever said that to me before..."

It does sting. Right alongside the vicious surge in his chest to protect his image, even from something as small as this. "I'll just have to do better." He smiles. "But I'm feeling fine, and more than lucky to have a beautiful professor worrying about my health!"

[ruinedskys]

𝗚𝗢 𝗧𝗢 𝗝𝗔𝗜𝗟. 𝗚𝗢 𝗗𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗟𝗬 𝗧𝗢 𝗝𝗔𝗜𝗟.

nos mutamur in illis | district 9 | sylvain/skoll | week 2

[ruinedskys]

Anything that needs to be locked up and hidden away has to be at least a little important. Sylvain doesn’t usually stand behind the notion because it’s bandit mentality, except that this island seems like it doesn’t have much else to offer. If the town hall functioned like it should, then wouldn’t there be records? Various accounts of town meetings, of the people’s concerns? 

The people are concerned, he’s witnessed at least that much.

So…why is the main room so empty? There’s nothing amiss left in his wake, nothing to suggest that he’s opened every cabinet, every drawer. He even leafed through paper left on desks and~ ! Nothing. Blank paper and hollow cupboards. 

Bandit mentality it is! He looks like one, regardless, keeping away from windows because he knows it’ll be easier for someone passing by to peak in and spot him than it’ll be for him to recognize them in return. “Aw, come on.” He groans, returning to the door in defeat and pressing his full weight against it. It doesn’t budge in the slightest…and the key isn’t here either.

Maybe only the mayor has one. “Not applying for thief mastery anytime soon,” He mutters to himself, eyeing the non-existent distance between the bottom of the door and floor. Even with his extra ability, it’d be a waste to use it here. Could it be that they kept all the important stuff under a loose floorboard? A fake drawer? There had to be something here…

As soon as the thought strikes him, he turns and catches sight of someone else. 

Getting locked up would get him access to the jail…but the instant recognition makes the tension bleed from his frame. Now, a slight smile - his most welcoming one - splits his face. “Skoll? Wow, what a surprise, heh,” Internally, he wracks his brain. Ally or not? More importantly, what could he say that’d explain what he was up to without going into too much detail? After a beat, he opens his mouth again, keeping up that slow, lazy drawl. “You know most people stop by during the day? I’ll save you the trouble. It’s locked up tight and the key’s not here.”

@sollvarg

[ruinedskys]

All who wander

nos mutamur in illis | district 12 | sylvain/linhardt | week 1

[ruinedskys]

Okay, so everyone on the boat had the same dream. Sylvain has no idea where to file that away- somewhere between creepy not-coincidences and more complicated than a festival should be seems to make the most sense. 

Linhardt isn’t making much sense either, but he guess it’s about as much sense as he’d make trying to explain it to someone not experiencing all that Baile had to offer. “Less orthodox magics?” He repeats, brows pinched closer together as he thinks. “A new disciple of magic? Baile has people that can project dreams to multiple people?” 

He almost hopes that’s the case, but it’s a stretch. They know next to nothing about it. Cautiously, he gestures to the book in his hands. “Is that what the almanac is? Accounts of weird things happening - like an entire ship of people having the same dream?” Or being given extra gifts. "Come on, you have to know something if you're looking into their past traditions."

[warpaway]

“pff, this almanac is hardly worthwhile,” he replies, waving it vaguely near his head. still, his thumb remains tightly between the pages, marking where he'd last left off reading.

“i believe i've spoken about most that i've found. i haven't found very many references to somnomancy here, rather it's my past experience that informs that hypothesis. actually…”

with a new thought in mind, linhardt turns, intending to retreat back to the library, but realizes they'd leave sylvain hanging in that case. they stop only to turn towards him, quickly giving him everything they think they have, “in short: things wilt when there's no disciple crowned. commencement ceremony. disciple is picked from whoever is best with wind, earth, water magic. not fire, for some reason. there's a painting by the tavern. that's all. good talk. bye.”

and with linhardt's free hand, he offers sylvain a dismissive wave before making his exit.

[ruinedskys]

- thread complete.

[ruinedskys]

All who wander

nos mutamur in illis | district 12 | sylvain/linhardt | week 1

[warpaway]

“oh, that?” linhardt replies. it's interesting that the assumption seems to be that linhardt had the same dream. and he did, so perhaps sylvain has learned he wasn't the only one ahead of time.

“yes, i did,” they confirm, “but as i said, it's not as surprising to me that others may have had it too. somnomancy, as i said. magic that can influence dreams and cause several people to experience the same dream at once. baile is more familiar with less orthodox magicks, so while somnomancy may be a little harder to believe than anima spells conjuring water or manipulating earth, it still makes sense that they may be found hand in hand.

“actually… i read recently that when a new disciple is crowned, they're expected to demonstrate their great magical prowess to the island, after taking some manner of vows… i wonder if such a thing would be expected…”

[ruinedskys]

Okay, so everyone on the boat had the same dream. Sylvain has no idea where to file that away- somewhere between creepy not-coincidences and more complicated than a festival should be seems to make the most sense. 

Linhardt isn’t making much sense either, but he guess it’s about as much sense as he’d make trying to explain it to someone not experiencing all that Baile had to offer. “Less orthodox magics?” He repeats, brows pinched closer together as he thinks. “A new disciple of magic? Baile has people that can project dreams to multiple people?” 

He almost hopes that’s the case, but it’s a stretch. They know next to nothing about it. Cautiously, he gestures to the book in his hands. “Is that what the almanac is? Accounts of weird things happening - like an entire ship of people having the same dream?” Or being given extra gifts. "Come on, you have to know something if you're looking into their past traditions."

[ruinedskys]

All who wander

nos mutamur in illis | district 12 | sylvain/linhardt | week 1

[warpaway]

“i didn't say crazy is bad,” linhardt corrects, confused on how he's being interpreted. all he said was the truth; there wasn't any judgment. yet it somehow feels as though he's upset sylvain for nothing.

to err is linhardt, or something. to attempt to fix it, they offer a proverbial olive branch. if sylvain was looking to chat about weird things, linhardt will chat about weird things.

“how was your day weird? i suspect this island is full enough with eccentricities that it's hard to move anywhere without bumping into one. i've been researching their folklore, so i'm likely ignorant of many present-day weirdnesses.”

well, his intentions in playing nice aren't all benevolent. there could always be something interesting sylvain knows that linhardt yet doesn't.

[ruinedskys]

…so he did want to know?

Sylvain huffs, making a vague gesture with both hands. How to explain the day without overcomplicating it? “I’ve been called crazy before,” He smiles, tilting his head as if in thought. “I don’t think any of those times meant good.” 

That’s not true. Sometimes he’d do something stupid and there would be a touch of fondness in the term from some friends. Maybe only eighty percent negative, twenty percent good. “Anyway, I already told you. The dream about the voice, the island kind of falling apart. I mean, more apart than it is right now. You didn’t have that?” 

After Yunaka, Carina, and Seliph, he was kind of thinking that they all experienced the same thing. Four out of five was still a staggering statistic.

[ruinedskys]

All who wander

nos mutamur in illis | district 12 | sylvain/linhardt | week 1

[warpaway]

“you sound crazy,” linhardt states. sylvain sounds crazy, and linhardt thinks he should hide theories until there's more obvious, identifiable evidence. evidence, of course, gathered from many trials conducted over linhardt's years of research:

“it isn't odd at all for dreams to suggest you have powers beyond your normal capabilities. it wasn't too long ago, anyway, that i found out first hand that somnomancy was possible.”

unlike sylvain, linhardt does not sound crazy.

he holds up the book, since sylvain asked to see it in the first place. “it's an almanac. not a very good one, mind.”

[ruinedskys]

Couldn’t get lucky twice in one day. 

It’s not the first time someone’s called him crazy, though the context of it all is what wins over everything else. A gamble that doesn’t pay off - a semi-familiar face that won’t push and pull the way he wants (though people very rarely do, huh?) “Yeah, alright.” 

He has no idea what the other is going on about - somnomancy? Was that a made up word? “You know, sometimes crazy is a good thing.” This late in the day, it’s worth hanging up everything he’s learned and trying again tomorrow.

The almanac in question preemptively bores him to tears, another long yawn interrupting a dismissal. “I can leave you to your almanac. It’s been a weird day, and if I don’t stop talking soon who knows what I’ll say next.” He didn’t need a bed, just somewhere out of the way to stretch out.

[bullsrush]

by the seashore

nos mutamur in illis - district 15, week 1 (shore, daytime) | carina, seliph, & sylvain

[ruinedskys]

If Sepp had anything useful to offer, wouldn’t he have done it already? 

Of course, Sylvain asks that of everyone they’ve come across so far, all seemingly blind to the state of the region around them. Usually, Sylvain isn’t one to judge. If they want this island to waste away, then at the bottom of a bottle is a decent place to do it. He sympathizes…which is why he shakes his head, no. 

“Guys like that are more trouble than they’re worth.” I would know, he avoids saying it, glad that the weight of the thought will be swallowed by his grin. “You two go without me. You’re cuter, so maybe he’ll give away all his secrets. I know I would.” Deliberately, he aims this comment first at Carina before settling on Seliph, eyes crinkling with the quick wink he gives before he turns to walk away. 

“I’m going to hang out here for a little while. Faerghus doesn’t have beaches like this. Might as well soak up some sun.” He doesn’t like the dry heat as much, but it feels like the right thing to say. Raising a hand, he waves without turning to look at them. “Good luck! Hope we meet again soon.” 

@bullsrush

[bullsrush]

Carina chuckles at Sylvain's flattery, not quite finding it charming, but appreciative of the comment all the same. "Oh, yeah? We'll do our best! Let us know if you find anything else interesting—or fun. We could really use some of that around here."

Sylvain turns, and Carina offers a casual wave of her own. She didn't know what kind of drunk Sepp was, but regardless, this was probably going to be difficult. Whether or not he ended up belligerent, the Bull could already feel herself growing annoyed at the thought of him wasting away while the others were out working.

She'd have to try and keep that irritation in check.

"Alright!" With a bounce, Carina turns to Seliph, arms folded behind her back. "You heard the guy. Let's work those charms of ours and see if we can't get anything useful out of our host."

It was worth a shot, right...?

end.

[ruinedskys]

All who wander

nos mutamur in illis | district 12 | sylvain/linhardt | week 1

[warpaway]

almanacs have never been linhardt's preferred way of gathering information.

they can recognize the charm in stepping into the past and viewing minor events through the lens of the people who were alive then. they can understand why one might want to absorb every detail and live vividly in a time foreign to them.

but they find the format makes information difficult to find and obfuscates important information with mundanity. to make matters worse, linhardt had found only one almanac tucked away on the library shelves, as though compiling them was some one else's job.

they decided they want to pace while reading this one, and so they begin walking aimlessly around. maybe, they consider, they'll bump into some one that might be able to have a better memory than the church's library.

or maybe not.

linhardt doesn't recognize sylvain's voice, and the way it wraps around his name feels vaguely unsettling, but he is a familiar face, and one that is just unfamiliar enough that linhardt isn't annoyed at being bothered by him.

“i'm reading,” he explains, as though he's forgotten about the book in his own hands. “is it that late already? i lost track of time again.”

they glance around and find that the church is quieter than it had been before, and the few candles that remain lit are much less efficient at beating back the large shadows of the architecture. “unless you're looking for a flower bed, i'm afraid not,” is the answer to sylvain's question, “though that does sound like a good idea, now that you mention it…  i hardly got any napping done today.”

[ruinedskys]

It occurs to him that even though Yunaka went in search of a library, there’s practically one right here too. Most churches had religious texts and monologues about being faithful in general. He hasn’t spent a ton of time studying faith, but he perks up at the mention.

Was there something here that could shed light on whatever held them hostage?

“What’re you reading?” He asks, shoulders slowly recovering from fatigue as he stands straighter. “Anything good?”

No, that was dumb. He shakes his head, running the dream and the day he’s just had through his thoughts. It's too late to be beating around the bush. “That’s not what I meant. I mean, the island’s different, right? Is there a different religion here too?” Maybe he should still find a bed soon, but it can wait. “You have a special ability from your dream too I bet. That practically screams a higher power, even if this one ends up being our enemy.” 

[ruinedskys]

All who wander

nos mutamur in illis | district 12 | sylvain/linhardt | week 1

[ruinedskys]

In his defense, he had never been a foot soldier. 

No, that’s not true. He’d been made into one from time to time, but he wasn’t built for it. He needed a horse, could go from one end of the island to the other in a blink of an eye. Plus, he’d have someone to talk to when the silence felt too dense in the worst way. Sylvain had already come to terms that the mysterious voice was done handing out cryptic messages, but the idea that they were watching hasn’t left him alone for more than a few seconds.

He usually likes his privacy. 

That said, he’s not a foot soldier, and he should have returned to the abandoned beach houses for some sleep before making the journey into the other district. 

The church is easy enough to find, following the winding road until the main building and clusters of others become apparent in the darkness. He’s tired, and as he pushes the door open it occurs to him too late that no one seems to be awake to receive someone who couldn’t wait for sunrise to abandon the accommodations they’d been given. 

Whoops! “Guess I’m sleeping on the floor…” It’d be less disheartening if he wasn’t feeling the weariness in his bones. 

Sylvain isn’t incredibly devout, but the Kingdom’s standards for religious leanings probably makes him one of the more devout that showed up on the island. It makes him careful as he tiptoes through the abandoned sitting areas, looking for signs of life or at least a tablecloth to secure as a blanket. 

Instead, he pauses to observe a shadowy figure walking parallel, coming from one door and passing through another. Hopefully not a ghost, though maybe even a ghost would be able to point him in the right direction. Catching up quickly, he gets their attention with an arm outstretched, brushing his fingertips near their shoulder. “Hey there,” His voice is pitched toward a whisper. It can’t be helped! It didn’t feel like a place to talk aloud. “Oh– Linhardt.” 

The name sounds odd coming from his mouth, like the syllables are too foreign to really wrap his head around. Of all the people to find here… was he the worst of the Eagles? No. No? He smiles, radiant and in direct counter to his thoughts. “Hey man, didn’t expect to see you here. Or anybody. But definitely no one from the Academy.” He could hear a pin drop in the silence pressing in from all around them. “Really though, what are you doing here? It’s- it’s so late. I thought everyone else in the church would be asleep already.”

A beat, then he places a hand on his hip and stifles a yawn. “Any idea where they keep the spare beds around here?”

[ruinedskys]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝

nos mutamur in illis | region 15 | sylvain/yunaka | week 1

[dcggersedge]

Just like that, there's no more hair for her to feel against the palm of his hand. "Woah!" Yunaka makes to try and...catch? grab? him but then, remembering his worries about being crushed midway through the motion, she freezes in place. Okay. Okay, he's definitely small now. Or...gone? She has no idea.

Thankfully, she's got those killer's eyes. It doesn't take long to spot a fleck of red where there hadn't been one before in the sand. The sight of him only makes her frown.

If the voice was capable of giving them gifts like this, why did it need them to handle things? Why couldn't it handle what was happening here itself?

The sensation of Sylvain climbing up her leg is not unlike the sensation of a bug crawling on you, and it's really hard not to flinch at it. "Easy, hang on!" He's gunna hurt himself if he falls! He's in her palm soon enough, but she's sure her heart will keep racing for a while after.

...wait, has he been talking? The little Sylvain in her hand looks like he's saying something? Before she can even try to strain her ears as she watches him though, little Sylvain is suddenly gone and replaced with Big Sylvain who goes ahead and knocks her right over.

She blinks, staring upwards as the sand wastes no time ruining her hair. Huh. Even the sky looks kinda dead.

"Kinda unbelievable, yeah." All of this was so weird. Yunaka lifts her legs and kicks herself back upright with a grunt. "At a quick glance, you look fine." A normal sized student, anyway, and nothing looked comically large or small on him. "You'll have to do the more in-depth inspection yourself though, sorry."

So...these little tricks are supposed to somehow help them find a way to save the day, huh? Doesn't feel like it. Sitting in the sand, listening to the roll of the waves, she only feels more unsure and confused than ever.

Her fingers dig their way into the sand. "Take your time." She had things she still wanted to look into, but it felt wrong leaving him here just yet. "I can hangout until you're ready."

[ruinedskys]

Yunaka’s reassurance and his own personal assessment reach the same conclusion: he’s back to his usual shape and size. He hopes he’ll get a chance to try the skill again soon in a less sandy environment. It’s not as bad as he’d been expecting it to be. Especially since he could grow back at will – the best way to not get crushed.

“Thanks. Can’t afford to risk my looks for a random island god. The ladies would be devastated.” The smile he levels is lopsided, a breath of laughter that’s at his own expense. It wouldn’t really matter what he looked like so long as he had his name and his crest. It still helps! But he’s not convinced that it’s even half as important. 

Afterward, he falls silent, breathing steadily while the sun warms his skin. 

She’d said they could take their time, and Sylvain still hasn’t decided what will be his next course of action. After what feels like an eternity, he lets his hands dig into the sand as he pushes into a sitting position. “So, your library? I’ll walk you the rest of the way.” It isn’t far. They’d come a long way already, and in the distance he can see where sand gives way to solid ground again. 

Taking on an overhead stretch, his arms come to rest lazily behind his had. “We’re a good team,” Not enough, but enough for now. More than he’d gotten with the others on the beach. “If we meet again, maybe it’ll be a sign to stick together. I think I’m going to stay on the beach for while and then head west. But if you need help, come find me. I’ll be around.”

Who else would have wanted to take the leap of faith for their skills? Sylvain feels good about leaving her here, because she’ll go and get whatever she’s looking for regardless. If they do end up meeting again, they’ll be steps ahead because of it. “Don’t miss me too much,” He says, a hand raised in a wave. “Oh, and thanks!”

--- end.

[ruinedskys]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝

nos mutamur in illis | region 15 | sylvain/yunaka | week 1

[dcggersedge]

Oh that is...that is definitely a reaction of some kind. Okay.

She had no idea what she expected. No, that's not true; she totally expected to be standing here like an idiot and get told it didn't work and look like a huge fool in front of this guy because she listened to voices in the middle of the night, that's what she expected. I mean, secret powers that just...appeared? That sorta stuff only happened if you were special.

But something does happen, even if it's unseen. Yunaka doesn't know this guy that well, but even she can tell that the tension has melted out of him. He practically leans into her touch which!!! Is weird!!! And not something she's used to and Yunaka jumps at the sensation. Her other hand springs up but stops midway without actually touching him, hovering awkwardly as she tries to figure out if her instinct was to catch him when he bends his knees or shove him away.

"I uh...I don't actually hear or feel anything on my end, if that's what you're worried about." Hearing someone's thoughts would be a lot more useful, honestly. This ability still requires the frustrating part of hunting down people who actually have information to question. "I guess it's working? I think? I'm not sure."

Though...maybe it actually working is a good thing, if it helps make the idea of trying his out less scary...wait a second. "I wouldn't crush you!" Yunaka objects. "You're not one of my students, but it's still my job to keep an eye out on you too!"

She quickly waves his words away. "We can pretend you didn't say anything, it's fine. Happens to the best of us. And, uh...here..." she awkwardly prepares herself, like she's about to catch something when it falls. "If you are at risk of getting crushed or falling or...whatever else can happen from how this works, I'll catch you. Promise!"

This is so weird and stupid. But she's also kinda glad that they did try it. It's not the most elegant of exercises and she's probably going to have to make absolutely sure he never talks about this to anyone after, but at least they know now. Yunaka looks at him again and smiles a little easier this time. "Whenever you're ready, I got you."

[ruinedskys]

Was it working? He feels a laugh coming, the idea of being small enough to fit in the palm of her hand just too odd to imagine. As relaxed as he is, he misses making the joke about it, nodding once to her suggestion.“No time like the present.”

It isn’t that he thought she’d crush him specifically. He may have a long list of people (mostly women) who were in line to enact a terrible, gruesome death on him, but he was pretty sure Yunaka didn’t have anything to do with that. An Eagles professor, but she didn’t have any roots within the Empire other than the ones she was putting down when she arrived in Fodlan. 

So, no long lasting grudges or family history to worry about there. 

“I guess I just–” The mysterious voice explained it to him well enough. It’d been something Sylvain had been turning in his head since they’d arrived, incapable of leaving it alone. He had to know, which is a feeling that’s hard to describe. Maybe it's going to kill him, but not knowing and understanding would kill him sooner. 

As soon as he envisions it, the ability becomes clearer. As if it’s a magic as attuned to him as the crest running through his blood. “...!” His gasp is barely there. Invisible, pitched higher and breathier as the world grows too large in a matter of seconds. Dizzy and disoriented, he twists his neck to look up. Far, far up from the crater of sand he’s in that must be the indent of where one of his boots just was.

So that’s it. He hadn’t fallen a huge distance like Yunaka had thought he would. He just…shrank where he stood. How small was he really? “No one’s going to believe me about this,” He groans, remembering that he’d have a better ability to get around as he steps forward to leap for the toe of her shoe. “Can you even hear me?” Sylvain is so small, he thinks his voice must be smaller too. Rather than wait for her to respond, he uses his newfound agility to climb up the leg of her pants, in awe with how easy it is to climb now that his body weighs nothing. 

In record time, he sinks his fingers into her vibrant hair to swing into her outstretched palm. “This is definitely for stealth!” He confirms, grinning at her. “Not my usual style but…maybe it’ll come in handy.” For what…he doesn’t know. He’ll never be able to use it in a fight, but as easy as it is to jump and climb and fit into places he’d never fit otherwise…

He’s going to have to hang up the calvary assignment and try to be more of a scout. With how quick he's moving, he thinks he might even be hard to catch. Already, he can think of a few ways this might work for him if he can get to town and poke around.

If they had more time, he’d wait it out. See how long he could reasonably stay small, but even the sudden wind coming in from the ocean unbalances him. “Gonna try to reverse it,” He warns, doing a little hop and imagining - just like before - the shrinking in reverse. It’s quick - too quick to count for the distance between them as he grows back to his normal size. “I can’t believe this,” He wheezes, aware that his knees are now in the sand from where he’d knocked her over with sheer size. Very unceremoniously, he rolls a little farther away, throwing an arm over his eyes to block the sky. 

The other hand pats around his body, like he would if he were looking for an injury. “Did everything grow back right? How do I look?”

It’s easier to say that than what’s really going on inside his head. Which is…just what kind of thing are they up against if it can give Sylvain the skill to shrink and Yunaka power over how someone acts? What else had it given out?

[ruinedskys]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝

nos mutamur in illis | region 15 | sylvain/yunaka | week 1

[dcggersedge]

So there's more than just flirting rolling around in that head after all.

There's no ideal circumstances for them to test things out on this island. Maybe good enough is the best they can do. If she says no, won't she just end up worrying about him running off and ending up testing it out with someone who has questionable intentions in mind?

Yunaka shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath. When she opens them again, her gaze is steady. "Alright. Let's try it."

And then, a pause. "...how do we do that?"

The voice hadn't explained the how of how to use their powers. Or at least, it hadn't for her. What is she supposed to...is it like a spell? Does she just throw her hands out and poof, there it goes? Yunaka lifts her hands in front of her and experimentally flexes her fingers. She doesn't feel any different, or like she has any kind of newfound ability charging up inside her. She feels the same as always.

"Okay...bear with me here a second. This is my first time, I don't actually know how this really works." Is the voice watching? Are they enjoying this? What kinda sick freak gets his kicks outta making people blindly fumble around, huh!?

At a loss of what else to possible do, Yunaka steps towards Sylvain and places a hand on the top of his head. While doing so, she concentrates really hard, doing her best to remember the words she heard and to shape them into...anything.

She feels so stupid oh my stars if anyone else shows up on the beach right now she's jumping in the stupid dead ocean.

After a moment, with her face definitely starting to heat up in embarrassment, she pipes up again. "So, uh...feel anything?"

[ruinedskys]

The seconds of silence before she agrees is more tense than he wants to admit. If she’d said no…well, he’d have just done it by himself. Which might have been smarter, now that he thinks about it. Whatever mental ability she has, given by who-knows-what, might as well fry his brain. 

Contrary to what most people think, he uses it. Even if it is mostly for daydreaming. 

Why wouldn’t he let his mind wander? Between hours of going from one classroom to the next, what else did he have to do? Take notes? Nevermind the situation they’ve gotten themselves into now, where the entity that’s landed them here and granted them these extra abilities is more likely to have them all killed for fun than let them live. If the state of Baile is anything to go by, it’s the beginning of the end, and the only thing they’re doing here is playing a specific, assigned role. Who was to say that he and Yunaka weren’t dutifully marching in their lines already–

I don’t actually know how this works… See? He needs to be able to think, and he needs to know that what he’s thinking is his own, so there’s no way he should be letting her…

The breath that rushes past parted lips is cool, soothing. He blinks, but lets his eyes close. From here, he can feel her hand in his hair. Do you feel anything? He hears the question and knows that it’s important, but nothing can stop the snort of amusement. “I’m sorry,” He breathes, opening his eyes a fraction, but the beautiful flush to her face only emphasizes the mistimed humor racing through his veins. “That’s not usually what I like to hear. If you have to ask and all…”

With a huff, he quiets. Does he feel different? Yes and no, and he hates when that’s the immediate answer. He remembers everything he’d been thinking. Seconds ago, it had mattered a lot more than it does now, and Sylvain knows (or hopes) that it’s something more powerful than a simple touch. It’s been a long time since he was that easy. “Maybe.” Another shake of his head, “No, that’s not true. I was going to call it off.” 

Sylvain’s expression is soft, eyeing Yunaka while he works through it for himself. “The idea that you’d be messing with my head was too much. What would you even find?” Sylvain spent so much time pretending there wasn’t anything going on up there…it made people less willing to look his way. “Now I don’t feel any of that. Is that what it’s supposed to do?” He leans more heavily into her, feeling the hand slide back in his hair. The angle is a little weird, so he bends at the knee to better their height difference.

“Even if it isn’t, I kinda like it. Pretty embarrassing if this is all me, right? I think I could try my skill right now and be fine even if you did try to crush me. I’d been worried about being small and helpless,” A pause. “Which isn’t really something I planned to tell you.”

[bullsrush]

by the seashore

nos mutamur in illis - district 15, week 1 (shore, daytime) | carina, seliph, & sylvain

[bullsrush]

Carina frowns. She doesn't like the thought that whatever that vision was—whatever they'd been shown, was inevitable. No one deserved to experience the level of suffering and destruction she'd seen. No one. And now that she knew what might be coming, there was no way she'd fail the people around her again.

"Well, I definitely don't want to give up yet!" Or at all, really... "We must have been shown those things for a reason. Sure, the voice seems to be treating it like some game, and it just might be a trap, but... there's got to be something we can do, right?"

She rummages in the pack at her waist, pulling out a cloth to wrap the bone in. "Sylvain's right that we need to watch out for ourselves. Let's ask around and learn what we can, but I want to see if there isn't something we can do to help the townsfolk too." Carina then drops the bone into her satchel, looking towards the row of dilapidated shacks further down the beach. "Starting with our host..."

A glance to Seliph. "Sepp's still around, right? Don't think I saw him head out with the other fishermen earlier."

@virtuoustyrfing

[virtuoustyrfing]

Although Seliph feels the urge to point out past happenings in Fódlan, he bites it back. Past events may have something to do with dreams. However, that connection to the present day is too fickle. Pasithee, Melanthios, the Projectionist... Those names might mean nothing to Sylvain and Carina since the people in question are already gone. Further speculation on his part may cause unnecessary worry.

Furthermore, he doesn't think he recognized the mysterious voice.

"I agree. It isn't hopeless yet," he offers hopeful optimism instead. "Whoever gave us those dreams might be underestimating our abilities."

As for Carina's question?

"I saw him drinking at the dormitory when I left," Seliph states, inclining his head towards the shacks. "So, yes, I assume he hasn't gone anywhere in that time..." A small pause. Whatever he thinks of their host for wasting the day away, he refrains from voicing it aloud. "If you want, I can join you to talk with him. After that, I was thinking of heading to the town."

Blue eyes turn towards the other man.

"Do you want to speak with Sepp as well?"

@ruinedskys

[ruinedskys]

If Sepp had anything useful to offer, wouldn’t he have done it already? 

Of course, Sylvain asks that of everyone they’ve come across so far, all seemingly blind to the state of the region around them. Usually, Sylvain isn’t one to judge. If they want this island to waste away, then at the bottom of a bottle is a decent place to do it. He sympathizes…which is why he shakes his head, no. 

“Guys like that are more trouble than they’re worth.” I would know, he avoids saying it, glad that the weight of the thought will be swallowed by his grin. “You two go without me. You’re cuter, so maybe he’ll give away all his secrets. I know I would.” Deliberately, he aims this comment first at Carina before settling on Seliph, eyes crinkling with the quick wink he gives before he turns to walk away. 

“I’m going to hang out here for a little while. Faerghus doesn’t have beaches like this. Might as well soak up some sun.” He doesn’t like the dry heat as much, but it feels like the right thing to say. Raising a hand, he waves without turning to look at them. “Good luck! Hope we meet again soon.” 

@bullsrush