searingenvy - a closed and affiliated rp blog for tharja from fire emblem: awakening. golden deer student at the officer's academy. written by eleven/emil.
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Jules of Nature
Cosmic Funnies
Sade Olutola
i don't do bad sauce passes

Origami Around
$LAYYYTER
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JBB: An Artblog!
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2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

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YOU ARE THE REASON
AnasAbdin
Peter Solarz

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Show & Tell
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โ

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@searingenvy
searingenvy - a closed and affiliated rp blog for tharja from fire emblem: awakening. golden deer student at the officer's academy. written by eleven/emil.
pinned post graphic by alina โก
dossier / stats / headcanons
hellfire / salvation
[showcase] โ faith +1
Ailell, the Valley of Torment, is said to have once been used as a training grounds for monks as well as a place for the Goddess to burn corrupt maidens with her heavenly light... [Grants Faith +1]
Andrei had never counted himself among the devout. The descension of dragons as part of his homelandโs history is undeniable โ his own life, Ullrโs blood running through his veins, is proof of that, even if the gods had not looked with favor upon his existence. Despite that (or perhaps because of it), he had never been able to begin to see the merit of devoting his life to the cloth like Edain had.
Fรณdlanโs โGoddessโ is no different. While he has no particular reason to doubt her existence, there is nothing he would need to do with her, and he doubts she would ever have any particular quarrel with a pair of foreigners like himself and Tharja either. He supposes, to that end, that divine judgment would not be on their list of worries during the exploration of the land of legend.
Still, the environment here is unrelentingly harsh, and even on the outskirts of the valley, where they had met with the mages of House Daphnel, Andrei could feel the heat bursting from the earth and warping the landscape. It made the cooling sensation of the spell all the more of a relief โ with a glow of ice-blue light, the heatwave had been replaced with a gentle breeze, and they had been sent on their way.
โWe have two hours,โ he reminds Tharja as they begin their trek into the heart of the valley, โBefore the spell begins to lose its potency. Best glean what information we can before we run out of time.โ
@searingenvy
The devout were foolish. She had seen what they were capable of for their beliefs, for a god that they could not see. At least she could see the one she worshipped. Fodlan's goddess...Tharja couldn't care less about her or her worshippers. If anyone were to face divine judgement...who better than herself?
She says nothing as they cast the spell on her, her eyes instead fixated on the way they cast it. "Yes, well, I'm sure we can manage." The dark mage brushes him off, walking ahead without a care in the world. "I'm sure the goddess' divine punishment doesn't take very long after all. Or does she make those who go against her word suffer?"
Thankfully there was no monastery staff nearby to overhear her words of doubt. "What exactly are you here for, anyway? I can't say many people are usually willing to look at such a potentially gruesome display." Then again she was here to do just that. "Unless you happen to be a monk enthusiast. I don't think bald would suit you, though."
@optimismxmagicism asked: โHey! Heyyy! Tharja!โ Somewhat unusually, Ewanโs cheerful steps took him to the dark mage he met once before. They didnโt talk much (in fact heโs pretty confident she insulted him once or twiceโฆ) but they were allies back in the rift! So, with a bit of detective work he found out today was her birthday! What better way to become closer to someone, right? โHappy birthday! Itโs today, right? Here- take it, take it!โ He handed her two incredibly weird looking vials, both were labeled. โWyvern Salivaโ and โPoison Oak Sapโ. โYou like hexes and potions and stuff, right? The library book told me that most of them use unconventional ingredients so.. surprise! Hope you like them!โ After handing the vials to her, he quickly covered his wrist under his cloak. Getting the tree sap was harder than he expected- a little spilled on his wrist. It itched a little nowโฆ.
She can't help the way her expression sours the moment someone says her name in such a cheery tone. "...Hello, boy. I can hear your perfectly fine from up here." Tharja looks down at Ewan, mentally trying to figure out what exactly his reasoning could be to approach her so casually. The dark mage had been particularly rotten towards him, after all.
"...I see." So that was what it was. Rarely did she celebrate her birthday with her own family, but to have who was basically a stranger wish her well-- and hand her gifts at that. "Interesting. These will do quite nicely...thanks, I guess."
As she surveys the vials there is the smallest hint of her lips curling upwards, only to fall once more when she notices how he hides his wrist. "...Let me guess. You got some of it on you, didn't you?" A sigh. "I suppose I can treat it for you. Losing your hand makes magic quite difficult after all...heeheehee..."
Birthdays
There was never any need to celebrate your birthday growing up. It never struck you as odd, how could it? No one around you cared to throw parties or receive gifts, only the quick and casual "happy birthday" before they all moved on with their days. A birthday was just another day, no different the those who came before it.
And yet, when you joined the Shepherds, the atmosphere was different in many ways. People did not speak to one another with a chill in their tone (for the most part), treating one another with kindness without expecting anything in return.
For awhile you couldn't help but be suspicious of the whole ordeal-- especially when that kindness was forced upon you. There was no better example than when Robin invited you to the barracks only for the giddiness to immediately leave your body when nearly everyone jumped out from their hiding places, wishing you a happy birthday.
They're lucky you had some self restraint. They could have very well ended up with craters for heads.
It didn't stop at your own birthday either. Robin would often come up and ask for help setting up, or if you wanted to join in on the festivities. Oh, how badly you wanted to say no, that birthdays were meaningless, but you couldn't. Not when it was Robin who asked so sweetly. But oh, you hated every minute of it. The appeal of cakes, gifts and singing never grew on you, though you kept it to yourself after some time.
---
Once the children appeared from their world your perception shifts once more. Your own daughter is nothing more than a babe swaddled in her blanket still leeching off your teat for her own survival, and yet the grown woman who stands in front of you claims to be your Noire. Years have passed right before your eyes, and you had no time to prepare.
It fully clicks when you see the other mother's celebrate the lives of their children, both young and old. The smiles on their faces (well, some of them, anyway...) are like knives to your heart, a feeling you experience so rarely that when you do it is torturous.
When you approach your husband with the idea to throw Noire a birthday party he truly believes you have lost whatever mind you had left from the years of dark studies. At most you had exchanged gifts to one another-- something you tolerated because it made him happy-- so the idea that you wanted to throw a party left him pinching himself awake.
The party itself was nothing spectacular. It was simple, small-- meant for only the four of you. All of Ylisse didn't need to know that you suddenly changed your tune. But the smile on your daughter's face, the way her shaking voice steadied once she realized there was no trick up your sleeve, nor some sort of hex at play.
For once in your life you understand the importance of a birthday. You still had no need for the material possessions, and sweets and singing both equally gave you a headache...but perhaps there was some merit to seeing the way your loved one's smile lit up the darkest of hearts.
---
Today is April 2nd.
Your daughter waddles about all on her own now. She's hardly as much of a leech as you had once claimed. Perhaps motherhood has softened you, or perhaps it was the fear of the mother you could become. It's quiet, though you have classes to be attending soon. For a moment you almost mourn how little you appreciated that party in the barracks back with the Shepherds.
At the very least you would have your family to wish you a happy birthday this year. That much would be more than enough.
Wanted Plots: Tharja city baby
Only looking for threads for Tharja this month, as she is severely lacking in drafts at the moment orz Tharja is a Golden Deer, so all threads are open for her!
Normopathy. [ Tharja & Rafal ]
Humanity held no torch to the treacherous ways of dragons who spilled and devoured the same blood they bled. Rafal would not have survived past his first century if he failed to honor his senses in places more unforgiving than this one. His scowling awareness flared at a fleeting shadow. That single aberration out of line, a single decibel of noise acting upon stone, and these observations only confirmed that which he suspected: someone had been following him for quite some time now.
. . .and for quite some distance.
From center to fringes and now to outlying bounds, no matter where he moved in relation to the group still the space at his back felt heavy with eyes unwanted. How irritating. How insolent. Decided of his course, his path drew to a close before a wall of tumbledown wood, debris and foundational blocks scattered all around. More importantly, the nook sat beyond sight and hearing of others who might interfere. Here, as predicted, solitude coaxed out their appearance.
"Oh, good. You have finally stepped out from behind those putrid crates. With such time and insistence spent in that smelly place, I had assumed you to be a most belonging gutter rat. Or that you enjoyed it there." He turned fully on this sardonic purr, gaze bright on the now illuminated woman.
The dragon's stance leveled with his shoulders; on one side, a flex of his dominant hand. Axe; dragonstone; bare-handed; there were certainly no shortage of ways. The vicious thought traveled no further than that. What purpose marked a stalking with no intention to kill? Had she wished to take his life, she would have attempted to do so before retracting her own paltry advantage of surprise. Reversely, had Rafal judged her a true threat he would have slain her without announcement.
Quite the darling way of interrogation. But witticisms and amusements alike bottomed out, a flat and hostile stare in their place. "I am Rafal. Not boy. Not newt. And if you desire for answers the questions must be worthy. They had best be worth my time."
The dark dragon's venomous tongue does little to intimidate her. She's heard worse insults hurled her way before...and it wasn't as if his opinion of her mattered. He was a nobody, no different than all of the others regardless of his claims. "Tch...is that supposed to hurt my feelings? Please...I've seen children come up with more intelligent insults." Her eye flickers to watch as his hand moves, though there is not a hint of fear in her expression. It's not as if she trusts him to not strike, nor that she believes she could survive whatever he had in store... No, she is simply content with the thought of dying while defending her beloved Robin.
"Well, Rafal," the scowl she sports only grows as his name passes her lips, "you claim to be a fell dragon, do you...? Then-- tell me, do you know of one named Grima?" There's a pause, as if speaking her name was too good for such a blasphemous being. "Or...Robin--?"
Suddenly there is a voice who calls out to them both, drawing her attention to the center of the village. It seemed as if some sort of meeting was about to begin... The dark mage sighs, turning her back to the dragon as she prepares to join the others. "...I expect an answer to my question next time, dragon."
Fatal Frame [ Tharja & Sakura ]
The pink-haired girl was somewhat surprised by the tone of the other girl, as if she really didnโt expect her to believe her or even actually try one of her usual ritual techniques: despite the odd feeling emanating from her dark aura, Sakura sensed that Tharja was far more than an eerie and extravagant person โshe was deeply connected with the realm of the dead, she could absolutely feel it, and despite the rough and abrupt manners, she kind of liked the eagerness and impudence of her attitude. She really liked her a lot.
Though, the sudden movement and the carelessness of her gesture did leave the petite priestess a little displeased, a sorrowful expression hovered on her face soon after she realized that the other girl did the motion of the ritual way too fast, before Sakura could actually manage to explain it. Not that she did something wrong, absolutely. Yetโฆ the spirits might not be veryโฆpleased with that gestures. Collecting the bell in her hands, she bowed, closed her eyes and gently whispered few words before lullabying the object back and forth. She focused for several moments, then she turned once again towards Tharja.
โYou have to excuse meโ she whispered, โI wanted to apologize to the spirits, we do not want to dishonour them in any possible wayโ she tightened the grip on the bell, soon realizing that her last sentence might have sounded a bit harsh towards the brunetteโs actions. โO-Obviously Iโm not saying you did it wrongโ she looked very sorry, sharing the best smile she could afford in a moment like that. โBut when you use an instrument like a bell, you have to do it with pure intentionsโ she lastly added, hoping she would not be offended by her innocent words.
Instead, the brunette seemed quite interested in Sakuraโs intentions, especially regarding the reasons behind her job there, with the spirit. The petite priestess simply sketched a smile, knowing that even if she knew that was kind of right about the spirit reasons, she definitely had some higher hopes and intentions for it.
โActually, we donโt really purify spiritsโฆ We free them from their negativity and their sorrowโ she sketched a soft smile, staring at the gaze of the other girl, hypnotized by the charming tone of her companion, โWe chant omens and prayers and through the help of the Goddess, we may free those spirits from their ancient suffering, so that they can manage to roam inย the other realmโ she tried her best to explain the reason behind her gesture, but the attention of the petite priestess soon shifted towards a ghostly figure behind them.
โThere she is!!โ she pointed out, running towards one of the several doors scattered along the hallway, the one where the ghostly presence had been seen.
She raised a brow as the other girl began to bow. "...Seriously?" How she managed to offend the spirits so quickly is beyond her, but there was little need to argue considering the fact that she seemed to be the expert of the pair. "Pure? Tell me, girl-- do you sense just how tainted my soul is...?" For a moment her expression grows more intense, a creepy smile spreading across her face.
"...Just kidding. I know what I am-- and I've been called much worse." The dark mage laughs to herself, paying no mind to the way the other stares. She was used to it by it...though she didn't know why Sakura seemed to be focused on her. It was odd. Suspicious. "Free them from their suffering, huh...?" Something about Sakura's words causes her stomach to churn, as if she had just eaten something sickeningly sweet. "And is everyone able to be freed from their sorrows? It sounds too good to be true."
For a moment she wonders if even someone like her could find peace in the afterlife, but she's soon focused on the actual matter at hand. The priestess takes off towards the ghost, leaving Tharja alone. "You-- reckless girl..." She sighs, following after her, albeit at a much slower pace. "So...what do we do to free her, or whatever?"
just dark mage things don't worry about it
By now, itโs hard to tell if reality is reality, or if youโre in yet another illusion created by Pasithee.ย Did you ever leave Rusalka? While this world looks far too gritty and bleak to be a dream, you decide to find a way to test nonetheless. Maybe the invention of an illusion-shattering spell will come in handy in the future, or maybe youโll try the old-fashioned way: finding all the ways to get yourself hurt. Whatever the case, two heads are better than one, and maybe your friend will stop you from doing something youโll truly regret.
Faith stitched together split skin, the source of which was an impulsiveness yet to be honed into an unyielding blade not quite suited for the scrappy lass fidgeting under the medical attention. Or so Arval told themself, a mantra of how her drive was rooted in immaturity and not desperation.
Each click of heel on stone was a reassurance their flesh was tangible and so was the ground they walked on. They knew spectral limbs and the tear between reality and what lies beyond, it was not this. This was living. It had to be.
"Haven't you heard? We might living in one expansive dream. You might just be a figment of my imagination! With how complacent you are to the whims of fate and scolding me for investigating, you could be."
Arval had taken her temper as a crutch, this was just one girl caught in a frenzy. Until the next came with their own hard earned injuries, with another following with all manner of wounds.
The face they sought was a target, steadying and a point to push towards. A pin to hold the anxious murmur in their mind as a distant drone and nothing more. Some of those they had aided had explained the spells, the hexes, the remedies that they'd consented to trial to get a taste of the 'waking world'. Where they found people to fuel their craze, Arval found the opportunity for a person to settle the steady churn in their gut.
When one had little choice but to listen, to take up no space yet exist all the same, one became skilled at hearing the whispers from the walls. It had not taken Arval long to find one of those they sought, the rumours of dark spells putting a spring in their step, untethered by the loom of their world falling apart on them in some grand ruse.
The satisfaction, slight but smug all the same, was a balm on frayed nerves when the prospected mage had slithers of the dark arts they were oh so familiar with lingering on her very being.
"Those hexes look advanced." The curiosity was blatant in their tone, a few steps between them but close enough another would have to strain to catch their words. "They wouldn't happen to have any connection to trying to prove those rumours of the living dream, would they?"
Arval tried to make themself as void of accusations as they knew possible, tilting their head in earnest interest, voice held light and lax, not peering too close unless she showed what she had created. A reassurance would do no harm.
"Ah, I have no intention to scold. Merely seeking someone who might have a more...concrete clue on what exactly that rumour is about. Those in the infirmary are not as informative as you'd think from a person inflicting injury upon themselves to test whether this world is...well, real."
@searingenvy
Itโs rare to find someone who is willing to approach herโ even more rare that they seem competent enough to understand exactly what sheโs doing. Itโs impressive, really. Were it not for the matter at hand she would have applauded them for their perceptive natureโ but alas, there was little time for that.
The amount of dark magic that radiated off of them was much even for her. "I would hope so. I'd hardly waste my time with something so simple even a baby could conjure it." Ah, so that was what this was about. She bites down on her lip, the taste of metal all she needs to keep herself grounded in reality. "And if they are?" Tharja's tone is pointed, something that typically chases people off-- but she knows that won't do in this case. There's the chance a surprise hex may work, though Tharja suspects that the other is likely to notice, perhaps even capable of some sort of counter magic--
"...Really?" It takes her by surprise admittedly, fully expecting the other to chide her for her recklessness, or her blatant disregard for the health of others. "Rumours are pretty simple, really. People are losing their minds. Probably some sort of magic causing a tear in reality-- though I haven't been able to see it myself." She closes her tome with a sigh, raising herself to her feet. "And the longer people live in this broken reality, the more they lose their minds...hehehe...well, everyone but people like us, I guess. I'm trying to see if I can cause a hex to wake them up. Bring them back to the world we once came from..." Her words trail off, giggling under her breath as she begins to pack up. "...You're free to watch the demonstration. I could use another set of eyes-- one who still has half a mind."
wanderer, where do you stand that these sheer winds lash you so? behind you lies your home, a vortex of meaning that once defined you. before you lies the unknown, but if nothing else it promises to be different. to walk forward is to shed all that has brought you pain and create a self in your own image, even if you must go it wholly, wholly alone.
the soft heat of a fire and the even softer weight of a child's hand; you keep one at your back and the other to your heart. it may not be the admiration of thousands, but it is the adoration of one that peers up at you, wide with love unencompassable. for the time being, it is boundless, yours to claim and yours to protect.
ghost of the end, the shadows behind you lengthen with every step. tread carefully โ the wheel does not wait for you before it begins to turn.this you remember clearly. which path will you grasp with all your might?
โWhat isโฆ?โ Wanderer. A title that felt right. Rarely did she feel like she belonged even back in her home in Plegiaโ while others devoted their lives to a cause they could believe inโฆTharja simply did. Because why not? There was no alternative, no cause that felt quite rightโฆand even when the Shepherds took her under their wing, she knew deep down she could not be trusted. Perhaps over time she managed to gain it, forge bonds unlike anything she had ever had.
But those bondsโฆtheyโve made her weak. They open your heart to pain, to sufferingโ other people leave you completely and utterly vulnerable. The image of herself, alone, but free from burdenโฆthere is something that feels right, as if that was the woman she had always been destined to be. That much she cannot deny.
For a moment she reaches out towards it, preparing herself to make a decision without hesitationโ but suddenly it falls.
To hesitate is to be weak as well. She knows that. She cannot afford to think twice about what she wantsโ what she deservesโ
But those eyes peer into her soul. The child in her arms knows better than anyone else on this planet about what she truly feels. Her innocent self, not yet sullied by the worldโ by her own motherโ knows that the woman who holds her close would do anything to protect her. Noโฆshe would never let harm come to her daughter. Not again.
โโฆIโve let her down once beforeโฆI will never let her suffer again.โ
The image of her daughter is clear in her mind as she steps forward to make her choice.
Becauseโฆone must be weak in order to be loved.
๐๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช๐ง ๐ฅ๐ก๐๐๐ช๐-๐ง๐๐๐๐๐ฃ ๐๐ง๐๐๐ข๐จ๐๐๐ฅ๐ ๐๐ค๐๐จ๐ฃโ๐ฉ ๐ฅ๐ง๐ค๐๐ช๐๐ ๐๐ฃ๐ค๐ช๐๐ ๐๐๐ฎ๐ก๐๐๐๐ฉ, ๐๐ง๐ฉ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ก ๐๐จ ๐๐๐ฃ๐ | TEAM TAU.
task: craft artificial daylight.
erk's failure has him worried, as though tharja's success was a fluke. he adds his own serum, that vibrant blue substance, into the machine.
(Post 13: Knoll) Roll: 1. temperature overadjusted, artificial daylight explodes.
but where erk's had simply been wasted, knoll's went wild. again, it didn't help that he didn't know just how hot to make it, but there was a point where he couldn't really blame failure on anything but his own incompetence in this craft.
if he had more time to study it...
but he does not. nightfall is inevitable, and all he can do is persist. knoll is not a man of natural talents, everything he can do he earned, through lengthy study.
the machine overloads, and he puts his hands up to brace himself.
Roll: 12. Knoll does not take damage.
he was far enough from the explosion not to suffer anything more than singed sleeves.
"i'm sorry. is... everyone all right?"
@searingenvy sorry queen!
โMore failures,โ Tharja bites down on her tongue in frustration, โat this rate weโll all be dead in the morning.โ They didnโt know how long the artificial daylight would last them, or if they could be used in groups or if every single one of them would need oneโ whatever the caseโฆit would seem that they would have much less than needed.
If they had just a bit more time she could study the recipes, learn how to perfect each and everyone oneโฆbut they didnโt have that sort of luxury. All she can do is watch closely as Knoll goes next, hoping to learn from his mistakes or successโ but instead she feels the heat of the sun against her skin, no longer a pleasant warmth but a burn.
Roll: 8. -2HP.
โGhโ Iโm fine.โ She hisses, a hand pressed firmly against the area she had been hit. โโฆIโll be over there, far away from where the explosions are happening.โ
Roll: 1. Dark ore. Roll: 3. Great success! +2 Dark Ore
@adalrikr
๐๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช๐ง ๐ฅ๐ก๐๐๐ช๐-๐ง๐๐๐๐๐ฃ ๐๐ง๐๐๐ข๐จ๐๐๐ฅ๐ ๐๐ค๐๐จ๐ฃโ๐ฉ ๐ฅ๐ง๐ค๐๐ช๐๐ ๐๐ฃ๐ค๐ช๐๐ ๐๐๐ฎ๐ก๐๐๐๐ฉ, ๐๐ง๐ฉ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ก ๐๐จ ๐๐๐ฃ๐ | TEAM TAU.
task: craft artificial daylight.
the stockpiling was a gamble, but it was the sort of high risk that carried with it the promise of a high reward, if successful. he doesn't know how much daylight they'll need, but if they can stockpile the serum, then they can try several in a row, for possible better results.
Roll: 2. Blue Serum. Roll: 3. Serum created. -2 ink silver, -1 star of evening.
he crafts a different one from before, a bright blue liquid that he sets aside for the time being. it's one both of the other mages had attempted and failed at before, but now it seems he's got the recipe down.
these things are... picky. precise.
"three might be enough. we can try to use them all in a row and see what happens."
he's curious about that, the what will happen of it all. he's also concerned for the health of the rest of the group. if the sickness spreads only when it's too dark...
well, it's nothing like any disease he's ever heard of. but this world is full of mysteries. better not to risk it.
@searingenvy
There is a minor sigh of relief as the other two mages create their serums successfully-- now all that was left was to create the daylights. She couldn't help but wonder how they worked, or if there was any other use besides illumination.
Perhaps she would pocket one later to test it out, but that would only be possible if they could make a sizeable amount as to not worry about one going missing.
"...Sounds reasonable enough. I won't let this machine make a fool out of me a second time..."
Slowly she pours the serum into the machine, watching carefully as the machine grows warmer. She remembers the last time they used this exact serum it had failed from growing too hot, stopping the heat just before the temperature Erk had used last time.
...She didn't know what to expect at first. It glows with the warmth of the sun-- something Tharja did not normally care for in most cases, but now that death and disease lurked in the shadows she would typically call home she welcomed the light in her palm.
"Finally. Make sure all the others go just as well...hee hee hee..."
Roll: 4. Perfect Temp! +1 dark ore, +1 artificial daylight
@adalrikr
๐๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช๐ง ๐ฅ๐ก๐๐๐ช๐-๐ง๐๐๐๐๐ฃ ๐๐ง๐๐๐ข๐จ๐๐๐ฅ๐ ๐๐ค๐๐จ๐ฃโ๐ฉ ๐ฅ๐ง๐ค๐๐ช๐๐ ๐๐ฃ๐ค๐ช๐๐ ๐๐๐ฎ๐ก๐๐๐๐ฉ, ๐๐ง๐ฉ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ก ๐๐จ ๐๐๐ฃ๐ | TEAM TAU.
task: craft artificial daylight.
knoll watches as the boy adds the serum to the machine before they start it up. he takes his position by the monitor, ready to adjust. there's a lot to look at here, and he's frowning as he tries to take stock of each aspect.
pulling a lever, he frowns.
(Post 7: Knoll) Roll: 2. Temp failed.
tharja's attempt failed because the mixture was not hot enough, but this time it overheats almost immediately, before he can turn it back down again.
he's grimacing. of course different serums need different temperatures, but...
well, it seemed to need to be a matter of trial and error which would determine how to best proceed. color mattered, temperature mattered, but these things were not consistent.
"failed. i'm worried at the rate we're going through materials here, but i'm not surprised we're getting errors with such a delicate process..."
@searingenvy
...All three of them seemed to be having some difficulty. While Knoll and Erk had been able to create the serums they needed, the hooded mage also was unable to manage the temperature correctly. It was getting irritatingโ at this rate they would be walking away empty handed, and if the darkness really did cause the plague to spreadโฆthen they would find themselves with more and more sick due to their negligence.
โWe canโt afford to make too many errors,โ she groans, moving over to create a new serum. This time she wouldnโt fairโฆand hopefully they would create at least one of the item they were hoping to make.
โHereโฆโ She does the exact same thing that Erk had gone, creating a similar emerald green. โLetโs hope we donโt mess anymore of these up.โ Tharja stares at Erk, waiting for him to take his turn. โโฆMight be a good idea to craft the materials and make as many serums as we can. Eventually weโll have to make one. Or else.โ
Roll: 4. Green Serum. Roll: 3. Serum created. -2 bogโs breath, -1 dark ore
@adalrikr
๐๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช๐ง ๐ฅ๐ก๐๐๐ช๐-๐ง๐๐๐๐๐ฃ ๐๐ง๐๐๐ข๐จ๐๐๐ฅ๐ ๐๐ค๐๐จ๐ฃโ๐ฉ ๐ฅ๐ง๐ค๐๐ช๐๐ ๐๐ฃ๐ค๐ช๐๐ ๐๐๐ฎ๐ก๐๐๐๐ฉ, ๐๐ง๐ฉ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ก ๐๐จ ๐๐๐ฃ๐ | TEAM TAU.
task: craft artificial daylight.
if they keep burning through materials at this rate, they'll need to pause to make more, further delaying the task. he's already frowning at how long it will take to replace what was lost.
perhaps they will have better luck going forward, though he knows mages like himself and the woman they're working with are not known for being abundant in that. still, they will do what they can. learning a new process will always come with some missteps, it's all part of the process.
still, he cannot keep a sigh from slipping past him as it fails twice.
"i will make an attempt."
he doesn't know what they're expecting him to do, but whatever concoction they've both attempted seems to be failing. why not try another?
roll d5: 1. purple serum. roll d3: 3. created successfully! - 2 dark ore, - 1 ink silver.
he grabs different materials, setting to work measuring and stirring. the serum that emerges is violet in color, and he starts feeding it into the machine. these recipes aren't complex, but the amounts seem to need to be precise. easy to mess up.
"now... i believe we need to monitor the temperature...? this next step seems to be the most crucial. i don't know what happens if this goes wrong. but you're both experienced with magic, you don't need me to give you these sorts of warnings..."
@searingenvy
There is a conflict with how she feels when Erk fails. At first she smilesโ though only for a momentโ thankful that she isnโt the only one to fail their taskโฆbut quickly she is reminded that failing could mean their entire group will be sick come morning.
The sigh does not improve her moodโฆand neither do his words. Regardless of his tone or his intent, she feels as if heโs looking down on her skills. She bites down hard on her lip, the taste of iron fresh on her tongue. โIโll do what I can. But no promises itโll go well.โ Her words are flat, making at least a vague attempt to hide her feelings.
The serum is fickle. She doesnโt quite know just how hot โhotโ is meant to beโ so she raises the temperatureโฆand yet nothing seems to happen. A complete and utter failure. โStupid machineโฆIโve seen scrap metal more usefulโโ
There goes any progress they made.
Roll: 2. Temp failed.
@adalrikr
๐๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช๐ง ๐ฅ๐ก๐๐๐ช๐-๐ง๐๐๐๐๐ฃ ๐๐ง๐๐๐ข๐จ๐๐๐ฅ๐ ๐๐ค๐๐จ๐ฃโ๐ฉ ๐ฅ๐ง๐ค๐๐ช๐๐ ๐๐ฃ๐ค๐ช๐๐ ๐๐๐ฎ๐ก๐๐๐๐ฉ, ๐๐ง๐ฉ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ก ๐๐จ ๐๐๐ฃ๐ | TEAM TAU.
task: craft artificial daylight.
sickness had worsened and spread when night fell, so the significance of this task was not lost on knoll. the process was unfamiliar, magic using materials and processes heโd never heard of before.
there was something thrilling about that. it didnโt show on his face, but the joy of creation, of transformationโฆ this task has three parts. if they each focused on their their own piece of the puzzle, it will be simplicity itself.
he was at ease, among fellow mages. he didnโt need to know them well to feel that way.
it was about the process, about discovery.
Roll 1d4: 4, and 1d4: 2 ; one bogโs breath crafted !
the crafting of materials had fallen to him. he set what he had made over with the rest of what tharja had in front of her, ready for synthesis.
โthis process will take some getting used toโฆโ
'It can't be much different than the spells I normally make,' she thinks to herself as she stares into the machine. Creating serums was simple...when you knew the recipes, but this foreign world didn't use the same ingredients Tharja would find back home or even in Fodlan-- everything that was laid out in front of her was unfamiliar...but she would have to make do.
She drops one item after another, stirring it together in the hopes of creating something...but nothing turns out, leaving her group with empty hands. "...You could say that again. How annoying-- what even are these?" She scowls as she holds a bog's breath between her fingers, shaking it around.
"You there-- you, boy," Tharja calls out to Erk, "your turn. Make yourself useful."
Roll: 2. Blue Serum. Roll: 1. Failed! -2 Ink Silver, -1 Star of Evening.
@adalrikr
Normopathy. [ Tharja & Rafal ]
Fell Dragon. What a disgraceful use of such a title. Tharja had never been the religious type, often rolling her eyes and scoffing as she witnessed the blind sheep known as the Grimleal kill for their god. Even when she fought under their command it was nothing more than an order to follow-- she couldn't care less about the divine battle unfolding in front of her very eyes...not until Robin entered her life.
Her feelings surrounding Grima were now...complicated. They ravaged her future, destroyed her family-- but it was impossible to separate the fact that Grima and Robin were one and the same to some degree.
...And to hear someone use her title in vain-- it made her sick...but it would be a lie to say that her interest was not piqued as well. There was a chance that multiple dragons of a similar title existed, but without observation it would be impossible for her to tell.
That was why she had been following him nearly the entire time. From the moment their larger group broke apart...she watched. Waiting for any sign that his claims could be true. Task after task, conversation after conversation...she stood in the shadows. She could care less if he knew, or if he would do anything to stop her-- it would likely help prove his identity if he did after all.
Finding that the two of them were alone she finally steps out of her 'hiding place', sporting an annoyed expression. "You there, boy-- the one claiming to be a Fell Dragon," she spits the name out as she takes another step forward, "I have a few...questions for you. And I expect the truth. Unless you want to be turned into a fell newt instead."
@rafent
Vale of Tears | Team Tau Bookfinding Squad
Drawing parallels between worlds is simply human nature, but Sara has never enjoyed lingering in old haunts. While she might miss the people remaining in Jugdral - Salem, Tina, and Linoan (even Asbel on occasion), that nostalgia has never outweighed her reasons for leaving it behind. Its new monarch too had abandoned the throne, slowing hope of change.
The woman clad in black descends like a dark angel, hovering behind Sara whose lips now wear something akin to a smile. Rather than dismissing her ideas as juvenile or twisted, she is met with bemused laughter.
"Yes, of course. A game takes two sides and soon enough it will be our turn, fufufu..."
Her giggles join Tharja's, harmonizing in one sinister song.
Roll: 10. Nothing.
"Now you're speaking my language..." She continues to giggle about for a little while longer, moving away from the younger mage to continue her search once more. It was...almost nice being able to speak to someone as an equal of sorts-- funny, considering just how young the other girl seemed. Tharja can't help the eerie smile she sports as the pulls book after book from the shelf.
What a shocking turn of events. Perhaps she would have some competent teammates to rely on.
Just as the books before had seemed to call out for her, her hand hovers over a spine of emerald green for just a second too long. "...Ha. Maybe it was all the distractions after all." Another giggle slips past her lips as she plucks it out, feeling...different. But in a good one. "Guess I found one of the good ones...hee hee hee...I'll make sure they regret that."
Roll: 13, found green book. +2 DEX
@princepsumbra
Vale of Tears | Team Tau Bookfinding Squad
"Really? I see it differently." Her voice lilts in genuine surprise, though she supposes she should be used to others failing to grasp the meaning of her words.
"Where I was raised, traps are designed to dispatch those that become ensnared. Whoever thought to lay one that grants its prey a boon must not seek their lives very urgently. The element of surprise can imbue any activity with a certain feeling of suspense. A game like this could, in fact, even be fun to play under different circumstances."
Sara strolls over to a nearby bookcase, plucking a title from the shelf at random, "Am I alone affected by the thrill of that which is unpredictable? Perhaps it is only wishful thinking, but I get the sense the puzzle before us reveals much about the creator."
Roll: 4. Nothing
...Now she can get behind this to some degree. The once quite girl continues to speak her on what the books could mean-- as if this were nothing more than a morbid child's game. It certainly piques her interests, though it doesn't erase the fact that she remains irritated by being forced to play along.
"Sounds like a wonderful place to live," 'as if Plegia was much better,' "but we aren't in your homeland, are we? Still...your theory holds merit." She floats downwards once more, peeking over Sara's shoulder to see if the book she had chosen held any information that could be made out.
"...I guess so. Magic is all about unknowns anyway...so what's one more at this point? Eh heh heh...the more we learn about them, the easier it is to use their weaknesses against them after all..."
Roll: 10. Nothing.