♔ Hellfire ♔

『 LORD BERKUT 』 Rigel's proudest son ♔ Affiliated with The Officers Academy

[scionspurgatory]

((OOC: sorry for the lack of updates lately! I've had a difficult time getting my butt into gear for RP after the holiday and also Pokemon has once again consumed my life. 🤷‍♀️ I'm going to try to work on a couple of replies at a time this week!))

[kanikamapesto]

me : imma try making backgrounds (planning to make Rinea’s mansion behind the bushes)

also me : nvr mind

[scionspurgatory]

He was warned of... differences, but this one? This one was too cruel—for him or Berkut, he'll never know. In spite of this knowledge, Alm gives Berkut a poignant smile. (He can still feel the heat of the flames and the overwhelming despair). "Lord Berkut. It seems I missed your birthday by a few days. My apologies for that. Happy birthday." He hands Berkut a daffodil.

His shoulders tense up immediately when he sees the perpetual thorn in his side approach him. After being bested one too many times by the Deliverence and their leader, coming to Garreg Mach had been somewhat a respite for Berkut without the threat to his pride in his presence.

There is something remarkably different about him though, something that he cannot quite place right away. Though he seems to carry himself with uncertainty in front of Berkut (as he should), it doesn’t read as intimidation this time. When Alm finally presents a single yellow flower, it catches him off guard.

“What is the meaning of this?” The prince scoffs at the gesture, plucking the flower from Alm’s fingers in a less than gentle manner. Lately he had spent an awful lot of time pondering the hidden meanings behind flowers whenever they came up and naturally, he couldn’t help but overthink the motive behind it.

“If this is a pathetic attempt to bring peace between us, you are better off gathering flowers for fallen soldiers.”

[frothystars]

a song for bygone days

(new print for ax!! ill be at table b22) 

[ulirblessed]

horsing around » open

[scionspurgatory]

healingmist‌:

Mist was perfectly content to leave this guy to his ranting session, which he seemed to be pretty embarrassed about, so she’s taken aback when he suddenly calls for her. She figured he’d welcome her leaving him alone.

She stops and turns at the waist, brow raised in curiousity. “Huh? What is… oh!” Everything else is forgotten when he agrees to help her, and Mist turns to face him, excitedly clapping her hands together. She would have taken his hands if he wasn’t so… well, intimidating. “Would you!? Thank you so much!”

Her good mood, however, dampens considerably when he threatens her. He didn’t really need to worry, since she had no plans on telling anyone about the incident from earlier. So the threat? Was a little uncalled for. Plus… he couldn’t really hurt her, could he? Wasn’t that against the rules?

“Uh… that’s not really necessary, but… sure?” She cracks an awkward smile, offering him her hand for a shake. Was she really sure this was the person she wanted helping her? “I won’t tell a soul. Cross my heart and hope to—” Well. Considering his earlier threat, Mist wasn’t too comfortable with this current choice of words. “…y’know… the thing… stick a needle in my eye… yadda, yadda…”

Losing himself in the moment was arguably more embarrassing for him than being caught talking to the horses. One of those times where practicing self-restraint would have done him some good. He had taken his words a little far off the edge. However, it was too late to turn back on them and offer an apology, he felt, especially after she agreed to keep this incident a secret. If he managed to tone it down just a little and actually help the girl with her dilemma, there could be a chance that she would forget about his little knee-jerk reaction too.

“Perfect. Then it’s settled.” He reciprocates her gesture with a quick but firm shake before withdrawing his hands to rest behind his back. “Lead me to the horse. I will show you the proper way to handle it.”

In a way, it was rather interesting that he ended up agreeing to help someone else with this task. It was only so long ago that horses were the prince’s biggest obstacle as a child, bursting into tears during his very first riding lesson. That was a memory Berkut would much rather forget, but the teachings of his instructor echo in his head as he prepares to pass the knowledge onto her.

“Now, the first step to taming horses is asserting your authority to them. Let them know exactly who is in charge. You are the master and the horse is your vassal. If you are able to establish that relationship with your horse, you shouldn’t have much of a problem making it listen to your commands.”

[seraphiia]

from the ashes » celica & berkut

@scionspurgatory;

Guidance. For a better part of her life, it had been something that she solely sought from the gods. And why wouldn’t she? They had given humans the gift of their bounty, provided them with comfort and protection… with life. The survival of mankind was dependent on their providence. That’s what Celica had been taught, anyway. And being a helpless, frightened child who had lost everything— her family, her friends, her home… she had been desperate to put her faith in something.

But now, she knew better. She knew that putting such a heavy reliance on the gods and their power would only lead to ruin. For Celica, it already had. She had just been fortunate enough to be granted a second chance, to atone for her mistakes… to come out of her ordeals scarred and hardened, but with more than she could have ever hoped for.

Others, however… had not been so lucky.

She steps up to the raven haired man seated at the front pew, having spotted him the moment she stepped into the cathedral. Most of what Celica knew about Berkut had come from Alm, who told her the stories of their encounters during the Rigel-Zofia war, up until their final clash in Duma Temple. Like her, Berkut made great mistakes… though his were ones that could not be reversed or rectified, and would no doubt stay with him for the rest of his days.

As someone who also had a person she cherished with all her heart, Celica held nothing but the greatest sympathy for him.

“…I did not expect to see you here, Berkut.” She says, softly. Perhaps he was also seeking some form of guidance? “Have you come to pray as well?”

[scionspurgatory]

A dim ray of sunshine filters through the stained glass windows, onto the vacant floor of the ruined cathedral. Not a single parishioner in sight, but the shadow of a man who fell from grace. Lord Berkut is not and never has been a man of faith and he can’t say for certain why he ended up here of all places. For centuries, devout followers have come to the Church of Seiros in times of crisis, offering their prayers to better their lives, be it a bountiful harvest to feed their families or salvation for their lost souls. 

Forsaken by fate and dragged into hell by Duma’s call, it was a miracle (or perhaps a curse in his case) that Berkut was still alive today. To beg for forgiveness from man and gods alike would be an effort made in vain, so he has instead chosen to shoulder the weight of his sins ever since. He would say there was a small part of him that was still too proud to refuse help from the gods, but such a claim was undeserved after all was said and done. 

Yet he is here, seated on the pew as though Saint Seiros herself had beckoned him here and sticking out like a sore thumb among those that still followed the goddess’ teachings. In spite of the damage the church sustained after war broke out, it remains to be the same peaceful and holy place where devout individuals give their blessings, much like Princess— rather, Queen Anthiese just now. 

He can barely recognize Her Royal Highness when she addresses him, not that he has any reason to put a name to her face right away. He was surprised at first to hear Anthiese’s name spoken out loud, resurfacing after she had vanished for nearly a decade. Once it clicks together in his head that she is standing before him, he breaks eye contact with her, his eyes downcast to the floor once again.

“I have not.” Berkut answers in a rough and strained voice that lacks the strong  fervor it once had. He still doesn’t have a real reason to be here, but he tells her the first thing that comes to mind. 

“I am merely here to rest.” 

It was a good enough excuse, though on the contrary, his mind is restless with regrets.

[adalheidis]

The Scions’ Dance in Purgatory

[reminiscentbxlles]

. . .

[scionspurgatory]

reminiscentbxlles‌:

She glances over at him the second he steps out. It’s relatively surprising how she could manage to convince him so effortlessly. But it was nice to see a difference of him, rather than being in those dark clothes it seems he’s oh-so used to wearing around anyone in existence. A proudful gleam has appeared on her face as she places a leather pirate hat onto her head, one with tall green and a white feather sticking out.

“Nonsense,” stepping over to him with her costume still hanging against it, she views what he sees in the mirror, “I don’t see anything ridiculous at all. It’s nice to see you in something besides your uniform and your battle-wear. I’m sure if any of the other noblewomen were to see you, they’d swoon immediately.” She’s half-joking as she says this, leaning up to press a quick peck to his cheek before grabbing her outfit from the mirror.

It doesn’t take her long to put on her attire, a long, white chemise dress that stopped at her ankles, a black bodice covering it, along with a white underskirt and black overskirt. She feels as if it’s almost practical, but perhaps the seamstresses who have made this had put effort into it, so she’ll enjoy how it feels for the time being. Stepping out, she chuckled to herself at the sight of it.

“Aren’t we quite the pair, my lord?”

Her brief disappearance is just long enough for Berkut to be totally aware of his surroundings and tense up again. Despite the nature of the festivities and Rinea’s reassurance, the fear of being spotted in his costume by an imperial official looms over him. Should his uncle find out about his own successor studying abroad at the Officers Academy just to take part in a silly costumed affair, Berkut could say goodbye to every bit of respect the emperor had for him. In his favor, aside from the makeshift crown on his head, he looks as though he were dressed for a formal event rather than playing make-believe. 

When Rinea steps out from the dressing room, the apprehension dissolves as quickly as it came over him before, as if her very presence was most comforting when he is out of his element. Her costume is a more simple one compared to her normal attire, but made more conspicuous by the beauty of its wearer and she wears it well with confidence as if she pulled it from her wardrobe.

“An odd couple for sure… This is an interesting look for you, Rinea.” He looks away from their reflection, turning to her with a playful grin. “Or should I say, Captain Rinea?”

[dragon-kiddos]

Rascal Wrasslin’ (Closed: Kana and Berkut)

When Kana first learned about the Rite of Rebirth, he wanted desperately to go inside the Holy Tomb and see what all the ruckus was about. Like, come on—a tomb! How cool is that? The last time he saw a tomb was, well… the last time he was in the astral plane and visited the shrine of his mama’s dear friend Lilith. That was a long, long time ago, though, and not even in the same world as his own. This tomb was sitting right under his nose, waiting to be explored—

—until he was asked to perform security duty on the day of the Rite. 

Of all people, Kana didn’t expect to be paired up with the Rigelian Prince for patrol duty. Though, rank didn’t matter here; everyone was just a student, and no one person was better than the other because of noble standing. 

Though they had been previously acquainted, Kana still felt a little bit stiff around Berkut. With most of his peers, Kana was able to sit back and relax and could forget that he was of royal standing for a little bit. Around Berkut, however, it was as though his papa was right back at his side reminding him to hold his chin high so that he may exemplify the honor and pride of their country. 

The two had been patrolling for quite some time in amicable silence, but Kana decided it was time to speak up. Not because he was getting bored or anything, no way—he was just trying to… to… pass… the… time?

“Lord Berkut,” he begins, “they only took people who said they weren’t busy to go on the patrol routes for today. Don’t you want to go see the tomb?”

In his head, it made sense that if someone like Berkut wanted to see the tomb instead of going on guard duty, they’d just… say so.  

[scionspurgatory]

Standing firm with his eyes fixed on the hallway threshold for an extended period of time was not the ideal way to spend his day off from classes. Most of his morning was spent shooing away students wanting to satiate their curiosity about the Holy Tomb, which wasn’t a difficult feat for someone who was as intimidating as a wyvern. It was an easy task but as the hours dragged on, the Rigel prince eventually found it to be a waste of his talents. He had no qualms with standing guard on the threat of an ambush against an army, but after deterring the next gaggle of Blue Lions students from peeking their heads into the hallway, Berkut regretted allowing the professor to take advantage of his free time for this mission.

At the very least he wasn’t in this alone. Berkut had his reservations about being paired with the Nohrian princeling at first, finding him to be much too childlike for what he felt he could tolerate. As an heir, the young prince must have been aware of those shortcomings. Perhaps he felt that he could cut loose while he was out of sight of the watchful eyes of his kingdom. The pressure to keep up appearances outside of the Rigelian Empire was alive in Berkut, the looming dread of disappointing his uncle and setting a negative example were a constant presence. 

To his surprise, the princeling behaved as well as he could have asked of him and he stood attentively for signs of danger around the corner. Not a single complaint of how much of a bore this mission turned out to be, even though Berkut was holding his own tongue back. About an hour before their patrol shift was scheduled to end, Kana broke the silence between them to start a conversation.

“No, I do not have any particular interest in it.” He says bluntly with an awful lot of certainty for someone who had just spent up to four hours standing in front of the doors to the Holy Tomb. 

“The whole purpose for guarding the tomb is to prevent it from being infiltrated. I doubt the Archbishop would be gracious enough to give us the grand tour, let alone take a quick glance through the doors.”

[ruibits]

You are challenged by young couple Berkut and Rinea!

[scionspurgatory]

a step forward into terror

[scionspurgatory]

thefetchingfletcher‌:

Leon nodded eagerly. He’d been through enough combat and training for so many years, he could handle most anything no problem. He was sort of disappointed that they weren’t for his birthday, but Berkut didn’t know him that well. Or maybe they were for his birthday and Berkut was a tsundere or something.

“Oh, yes! It seemed like a good foreign diplomacy and scouting opportunity here. I’ve been learning so much at the academy even as a veteran. You seem quite established yourself.” He got the impression that Berlut wasn’t interested in hearing about all the friends he’d made and all the recipes he’d been sending home. “You’re in the Black Eagle House, huh? I might be transferring over soon.”

He left off the why. That didn’t matter.

Leon squinted as he looked out into the gloom. He angled his bow up, swearing his eyes had picked up on movement in front of them. “Something’s out there-” he cut himself off as another guard shouted and Leon drew back his bow, firing out into the surrounding trees.” BANDITS! TAKE COVER!” he directed the villagers, moving back to try and protect them.

"Is that so?" His focus on the task at hand was broken momentarily when he heard this. He turned his head to Leon, apparently showing mild interest towards his newfound affiliation. "The Black Eagle house provides a wealth of opportunity for making connections. Or so I've been told." It was surprising for him to hear of the Deer's pending transfer. He had never gotten the impression that Leon was of a noble house, although he knew very well that wasn't always the case for some students in the class. 

Their discussion was put on hold when Leon sensed the unwelcome presence in their midst, quick to draw his bow before Berkut could take a defensive stance. With a tight grip on his lance, he shifted his focus back to their surroundings as he listened for any sounds of activity in the distance. But as the villagers arose from their slumber in a simultaneous state of confusion and panic, he couldn't hear anything above the rustling of the underbrush.

"Stay calm!" He shouted to the villagers, more or less as an order than a reassurance for them. 

It wasn't his first time dealing with bandits. The foolish band of thieves that last crossed Berkut's cavalry in Rigel met their ends at the weapons of his armed soldiers. He lacked patience for negotiating with them, preferring to settle things with them physically. Though he doubted that these bandits had their sights set on the plentiful convoy of the emperor's army this time, he was still not above having one of their heads skewered as a warning of who they would be dealing with.

The firing of Leon's arrow finally drew the bandits out from the shadows and one of them appeared to have been grazed on their arm. With menacing glares, no more than a dozen thuggish rogues emerged into view with their weapons drawn.

[scionspurgatory]

💐 It's your birthday! Let's celebrate with some flowers!

Her hands had the faint remnants of soil underneath her fingernails still, likely from working in the flower beds earlier that day. It explained why she had spent much more time than usual in the greenhouse lately, toiling away at the dirt to present him with a carefully crafted gift: A modest bouquet of hyacinth with small clusters of pale white and blue hydrangeas and lavender for a relaxing aroma. The stems were wrapped together tightly with twine and tied with a long sheer white ribbon. His gaze was fixed on the blue flowers that matched the color of Rinea’s eyes. 

It was almost a shame that the bouquet had to part from her hands, as though the flowers would suddenly wither away in his arms. Rather, the coldness in the prince's face evaporated into a warm delighted smile as the bouquet was pressed into his grasp, followed by their maker. It was funny how a simple gift could move him in such a way, especially when it was handmade with love and care.

“You never cease to amaze me, my love. These are wonderful!” Berkut's arms closed in for a tight embrace but carefully enough to not crush her hard work. If only cut flowers could prosper forever.

"Thank you, Rinea."

[scionspurgatory]

"Lord Berkut! It's your birthday today, right?" With one arm hidden behind his back, he beckons the prince to lean down a little so that Kana can reach his head, and... presents a flower crown for him to wear! It gets placed nicely on top of Berkut's head, held somewhat-in-place by his actual crown. "I know it may not be to your tastes, but... I tried to get your favorite flowers in your favorite colors. Happy Birthday!"

“Yes, it is. How did you know?” He knew it was a dumb question; word seems to spread fast around Garreg Mach and there were always a few students around that kept their eyes on the bulletin board to send birthday wishes to their classmates. He lowers his head as is asked of him and is given a crown of blue and white hyacinth flowers. At first he is unsure of what to make of them; they were the prince’s preferred flower as few people knew, but after fretting about what flowers to give to Rinea without sending the wrong message, he was unsure of what hyacinth was supposed to mean. It was easy for him to overthink what was supposed to be a simple gift. 

“Lady Rinea must have helped you with this, did she?” He steadied the crown atop his head to prevent it from sliding off. Symbolism aside, flowers didn’t suit Berkut very well as they did others, in his own opinion, but he knew better to be gracious of his gifts than reject them outright. It was a rare lesson that he learned from his mother in his youth, back when both of his parents were still alive. Plus, he had taken a liking to the Nohr princeling recently, if only because the young noble admired him so greatly. 

“I accept.” 

[scionspurgatory]

While Berkut didn’t seem to have meant to give Leon arrows on his birthday as a birthday present- he still had and Leon wanted to repay the favor. Leon thought himself adept at giving gifts but Berkut had him at a loss. His only soft side was shown to Rinea, so Leon aimed there. He left a small wrapped box on his bed with a birthday note signing off that it was from Leon, and inside was a light blue scarf that could also be worn as a formal necktie that matched Rinea’s favorite dress

Berkut glances at the small wrapped gift on his bed, his first thought being how on earth someone managed to pry open his door. It was entirely possible that he had forgotten to lock it behind him in his anticipation for what the day brought him. The prince’s birthday was common knowledge in the Empire and celebrations in Rigel castle were aplenty. He had not mentioned anything about it to many people around the monastery, saving that task for the curators of the bulletin boards instead. 

With the silk garment draped around his neck, the prince examines himself in the mirror hung on the wall. It’s not something he would have picked out for himself, but it was an eye-catching piece on its own and the color choice was spot-on. Leon seemed to have a good eye for these kind of things. The gesture  offset the fact that he managed to enter Berkut’s bedroom without permission, but as long as nothing was amiss (he already checked his shelves and desk earlier), he could let it go this time. 

[rp-starters-ask-box-fillers]

Send a rumour that your muse has heard about mine.

[scionspurgatory]

working the dirt

@rheasknight

The sky overlooking Remire village was bright and beautiful blue  in the late morning, but the muggy weather that followed the downpour made for an absolutely miserable time for anyone who wasn’t acclimated to the conditions of the rural land. The volunteers from Garreg Mach had barely picked up a tool before they were complaining of sweating through their clothes. Though Berkut grew up enduring the hardships of Rigelian winters, nothing prepared him for what essentially felt like wading through a swamp on dry land. His clothes caked in mud and drenched in his own sweat, having to restrain himself from making his own complaints seemed to be the real challenge for the Rigelian prince. 

The crops that survived the flood were low in numbers, assuming the pests had not already marked their territory on them. The villagers had harvested all that they could with such little time before the storm, but their hard labor that went into the initial planting was all for nothing with no option but to pick up their tools and start all over again. For a truly pitiful situation, their resilience was admirable to the few nobles that provided their aid to them. 

Though he had never suffered being in this particular position, the unfortunate circumstances were still familiar to the empire noble. Without Mila’s blessing, the empire never saw the bountiful harvests like their neighbors across the continent. The rural villages of Rigel often scraped by the growing seasons, saving every little ration they can before the long winters settled in. In a removed way, Berkut could relate to Remire Village’s misfortunes, viewing them like the rural commoners of his homeland, though they were not the slightest bit comforted by his presence, other than using him as an extra pair of hands to till the soil.

[scionspurgatory]

Doppelganger

[scionspurgatory]

birdwhisperer‌:

It’s no surprise to Marianne that the residents here at the academy are hardly aware of her presence. It is also safe to say that the members in her house would be the ones who know her best, albeit just barely when compared to those outside of the golden deer. Marianne went to the academy with the intention of keeping to herself, and she didn’t have any plans on letting up anytime soon.  

So for someone that was pretty much invisible why did she have the all too familiar sensation of being watched? This was a hair standing feeling she hasn’t felt since living at her birth home where eyes were on her at all hours of the day just in case her condition would turn for the worse, or possibly a brave soul making an attempt at her life before the chaos has any chance of happening. A shiver ran down her spine, but she tried to keep her composure while speaking to her winged friends. One of them hopping and happily chirping on her knee which brought a smile to her lips. Although, that wasn’t enough to keep her from glancing around to see if anything was out of place. Only a blur of dark hair that could have been anyone at the monastery. 

Did someone from her former village find her here? The thought had her heart racing in panic, and immediately she stood from the bench and stumbled as she started back to her room. A cold sweat forming across her brow as unwanted memories flooded back into her head. 

After that moment Marianne was on high alert. It was in the main hall of the cathedral when she felt those eyes on her once again. Her body tensed, but she did nothing else to show that she was aware. Instead when a housemate called out to her she took that chance to have a quick look around, and with a glimpse nothing was out of the ordinary except for a figure that managed to stick out. Tall, dark hair, a grim gaze, and were those horns? Before she would be noted for staring for too long she quickly gathered herself and went on with her day. Thankfully the individual, if it was him, did not follow. From what she could tell anyway. 

Has the goddess finally answered her prayers? 

The next time, she was having her daily visit with Dorte. It was while she was in the process of telling him of the day’s woes that she nearly faltered as she had this unsettling feeling of a lingering presence nearby. At this point Marianne was growing irritated, enough was enough. If they were going to end her then why the constant watching? Her birth father did not usually go for such time consuming methods, so what was truly going on? 

I wonder… 

“You know Dorte… I forgot to mention this the other day, but I think I have an admirer. I know, I was shocked too when I saw. Who in their right mind would like me? He must be a demon of some sort in human form because he has horns. Two proper ones jutting forward from the temples. I don’t know what to make of it either…” If there was one thing that Marianne knew could push a person’s buttons it’s false accusations. Hopefully what she was doing was enough to get this person out from the shadows. Would it be the individual from the cathedral or someone else entirely? 

@birdwhisperer​

He shifted his weight to the left, leaning in closer to listen in as much as he could without giving himself away. However he had apparently failed to be discreet when Marianne eventually caught onto him lurking around the corner. Even so, he hung onto every word of hers and internally chastised himself for giving her the wrong impression. Though she was the spitting image of Rinea, aside from her despondency, his interest in her was not born from admiration. He should have been more cautious in his observations, but the girl seemed to have a stronger sense of awareness than most people did. 

“He must be a demon…” 

As Marianne spoke to the horse, Berkut’s hands found themselves on the pointed ends of his circlet. There was little doubt in his mind that she was referring to him; no one else in the monastery wore something so distinct, as far as he was aware. The direct comparison to a demon was especially mortifying to hear. As a devout believer of the church, her perception of him was valid enough to warrant such an accusation.

Berkut quietly stood against the wall, deciding if it was best to clear the air of any rumors that may arise as a result of his carelessness. If he wanted to prevent any further misconceptions of himself, now was time for him to come out of the shadows. Quickly removing his circlet from his head and putting it aside for the time being, the prince stepped into view of the girl, approaching her and the horse with a sense of purpose.  

“Pardon my intrusion.” He spoke to her with a sense of confidence, pretending like he hadn’t heard a single word from her mouth about him. “I seem to have misplaced a brush from my grooming kit. Would you mind terribly if I borrowed one from you?” It was a decent enough lie, he thought, though his own horse had already been groomed a few days prior.