Tantivy

Literate multi-muse blog. Penned by Yunalesca. Est. Dec 30. (HEAVY WIP)

[seraphicrift]

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Literate multi-muse rp blog. Come say hi! ^^ (BLOG UNDER HEAVY CONSTRUCTION ATM)

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[seraphicrift]

heya, i wanted to message and reach out about a rp ad you liked but your messages seem to be off !!

They're on now!

[seraphicrift]

Ok, I need to update my rules and pages a bit more and then I'll FINALLY make a promo.

[incendiums]

[ Lon'qu ]

"..." Ghastly? He knew better than to answer her and risk inciting her fury—his irrational fears were in coup with rational ones, given Cherche's... reputation. With a cold inhale, Lon'qu paced further away to make himself scarce, for the woman was best known for being the most frightening to anger in the army. His calloused fingers slipped to his belt, preoccupying himself from the tingling he felt on the back of his neck. (...Though, he could not have known that half of his fears were all in his head.) "I do not know why you ask questions you know the answers to." His scowl deepened for a moment, as he gave no pause to give her a more transparent answer.

For all the bluntness in the world, he sure could find a home in ambiguity. Lon'qu glanced about, crossing past a crowd without her— though his trained ears were all but hers for the entire venture. He may as well have taken to her side if he were going to listen to her so intently, mentally taking note of all the menial requests they had on their docket. "Minerva would appreciate fresh mutton. Butcher's last stop then." He glanced over his shoulder in a half-hearted attempt to check if it was even worth mentioning. Half the camp would be in tatters if her loyal steed was left unchecked.

He grunted noncommittally the moment she gave him the reins. "First stop..." Lon'qu felt a cold sweat develop as a cluster of women came strolling down the street, caught in deep conversation. He found himself retreating towards her, eyebrows so deeply knit he could have wrapped his neck with them. "You need anything?" Abrupt as it might be, he didn't mean anything in the realms of altruism. Lon'qu simply had a gut feeling she was leaving herself out of the equation—Minerva serving as her second self, he supposed.

Notching his hands around his sword hilt, Lon'qu gestured with a motion of his head towards the fanciful display of lace in the window. To him, it seemed as though the people of Ylisstol were preparing for an upturn in their local economy after Chrom's return to the capital. Tiresome ribbons, vivid sapphires, and saffron dyed skirts were presented in a delicate arrangement—far beyond his own knowledge and expertise. "We'll be at the tailor anyway. Don't want to waste time doubling back here if you change your mind."

With a swing inside and an overtly saccharine welcome, Lon'qu gestured to the laced headband she always sported, regardless of time and place. He didn't care for such details, but it was a particularly obvious contender if they were going to pull from Chrom's personal treasury for the last time. "Unless it's sentimental. Like something or another."

@seraphicrift

[seraphicrift]

"Oh hush, I'm just trying to tease." Though, she was pleased by his silence to the question and simply flashed him an amused smile right before he crossed the crowd without her. "Ah! She would appreciate it. I didn't know you would be so fond of Minerva!" Ignoring the fact that Minerva was a beast capable of destroying the camp and the possibility that he was just trying to stay on the wyvern's good side; she found it sweet that Lon'qu would offer to go to the butcher's as the last stop to maintain the meat's quality.

In fact, she was so endeared that Lon'qu had been so 'considerate' that she was taken aback by the question of what she wanted. "Me?" She repeats the word, her brows scrunching up in thought as she looks around the vivid shops. Truth be told, she had no clue. Weapons? No. Sewing supplies? She could get that anywhere. Any food she particularly craved were those of her own homeland and she had no idea what to even look for in Ylisstol... She softly rapped a knuckle against her cheek in thought, a hum in her throat. "Well I suppose it wouldn't hurt to look. Though truth be told, I have no idea what to even ask for." Chrom had certainly made a point that money was of little concern for the coming festivities, but Cherche struggled to choose something for herself. "She followed him into the shop, giving the shopkeeper a polite nod and smile as the two Shepherds entered. Cherche was quick to ask for the fabric, some pink and yellow silk that Maribelle insisted on being bought together and watched as the tailor scurried off to the back.

As he motioned to the headband, a hand reached instinctively to touch the white lace. "Oh, this? It was given as a gift, back from when I was first recruited into House Virion." As hopeless as she deemed the action given his gynophobia, she motioned for Lon'qu to lean in closer to inspect it. Embroidered on the right side of the band was the crest of the noble house: a triad of roses. How long had it been since she had first pledged her services to Virion? It was sentimental, but not out of loyalty for her former lord. "It is simply a reminder of the things that I have lost, and hope to regain. " For a moment, her gaze seems distant, but it is over in a second. "But, the war is over, and it would be nice to have another accessory." And just like that, the woman began her search for something, anything. " Surely they must have something more...spiky?" She said, her hand moved over garments one by one. " I've always thought the Risen were quite cute, perhaps I could try and emulate their style."

"What about you, Lon'qu?" She held up a white blouse to him, one rose colored eye closed in her attempt to imagine it on him." Surely you must want something. I think you would look quite dashing in some of these clothes."

@incendiums

[incendiums]

In Troves of Gold and Silk { Cherche | Lon'qu

[ Lon'qu — Ylisstol is Enough for One ]

"If the afterlife sends someone to collect you, you put that messenger in the ground." Lon'qu gathered the answer in his jaw, clenching it as if to chew. He hated idle talk, but Robin had assigned for a small faction of the Shepherds to be detained in Ylisstol to pick up extra supplies. Sure. He supposed because the Ylisse-Plegian War was over, Robin could drag them around for errands one last time before everyone headed their seperate ways. He, for one, couldn't wait to dawn some distance between himself and the others. He never had a taste for company, and found the severe number of women to be unusually cruel on his nerves.

"...That's how my outlook on battles have always been. And war? War is the same." He pulled forward, taking up a sizable distance between himself and the scarlet-haired women behind him. He could feel his stomach turn at the mere idea that she was just an arm's length away. "Forget it. It doesn't matter. Because Chrom is settling down, it looks like the war is really over." His eyebrows perched deeply, displaying his contention over the fact that eminent death was not exactly immediate anymore. This peace nearly felt fabricated.

"Now what was it that Robin had asked us to fetch?" He muttered outloud, inquiring more for himself than for others. It better not have been idiotic, or else he'd be burying more than just a messenger, next. "Seems like we're playing dog now, is that right?"

He should have made himself scarce by now—a ride on horseback for a week would have gotten him home. In the tundra, where no one would ask for him, he could use his blade for a cut of the Ferox Tournament prize money. He didn't need to perform menial tasks like this—especially for... what? A couple bags of flour, fabric, cheeses, and a couple glass beads? What could tedium be, other than misery?

"Keep your distance. You should remain at least an arm's length away from me." He warned, scanning Cherche up and down to see if she would defy him in some way. What was it about women that made them so readily available for one so painstakingly the opposite? "You cannot say I didn't warn you."

@seraphicrift

[seraphicrift]

"Oh come now, am I that ghastly to you?" Cherche knew better than to prod at Lon'qu, but there was amusement in her voice nonetheless. Since the war had come to an end, she was more than eager for the chance to do something other than swing her axe. Though, it seemed like her companion for this task didn't share the same sentiment for a day out in Ylisstol. The other Shepherds who had come to Ylisstol had since dispersed to attend to their assignments, leaving her with Lon'qu in the middle of the square. Did Lon'qu's face never change from that permanent scowl of his? Surely even the prospect of peace must have at least softened him a bit... Though that was about as likely as Cherche being able to move within a foot of him without the swordsman losing it. She was more than grateful that he dropped the talk of battle though; it was too gorgeous of a day to ruin it with idle talk of war. She had fought for this peace, and she wanted to keep it that way.

Despite his question of the items they needed to procure being more of a rhetorical one, Cherche entertained him. "Let's see...Flour, some varied cheeses, Maribelle asked for fabric, Nowi wanted glass beads, and I believe Robin wanted some wine as well..." She lists, eyeing the colorful stalls as the two began to make their way through the marketplace. All the sights, scents, everything seemed so different from her home in Roseanne and yet it all felt so familiar. When was the last time that she had done something like this?

"Oh!" A fond smile spread across her lips. "Minerva also asked for a cut of mutton." How could she have forgotten? The cry from the wyvern as they left had be loud enough for the entire barracks to hear. She turns back to the swordsman, . "So, care to pick where we go first? You are the one who seems to be leading after all." She motions to the distance between them, Ylissean citizens weaving in and out from stall to stall and between the gap the two had made.

@incendiums