Claire Keane
we're not kids anymore.
ojovivo
Jules of Nature
No title available
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
taylor price
I'd rather be in outer space đ¸
Origami Around
hello vonnie
Misplaced Lens Cap
sheepfilms
romaâ
â
h
One Nice Bug Per Day
Kaledo Art
oozey mess
pixel skylines
ellievsbear
seen from Brazil
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from Netherlands
seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from Spain
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from TĂźrkiye
seen from Germany
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from Netherlands
seen from United Kingdom
@shadoll
An enigmatic resident of Abyssâââââââ with an affinity for Light & Dark magic, staves, and mischief.
Sara belongs to the cast of FE5, but is written post-FE4 assuming that prior to attending the Officers Academy she was living under Leif's protection in Leonster after the Liberation War and can be recognized by characters from both games.
it is pride month, lord leif. you know what that means
OOC. over the next few days, i will be answering every ask in my inbox i was not able to get to on time. any unfinished ethereal ball interactions waiting on my end will also be answered through june, but if you'd prefer to drop them, please feel free to let me know! likewise, you are welcome to continue anything or reply if you have an interest in doing so.
i hope everyone had fun this year and thank you to each person that took the time to write with and indulge my girlie's antics :heart_hands:
@shadoll sent:
[ LIGHT ] Trust is a surrender of control that carries tremendous risk in the eyes of most, but Sara grants hers without a second thought, sealing sight behind a blindfold for the song's duration. She cycles through partners like seasons, allowing them to guide her into a spin and start again, intoxicated by the heart pounding anticipation of each unknown hand to grasp.
A faint laugh, however, escapes the moment he welcomes hers and familiarity blooms, "What an unexpected meeting. Are you enjoying yourself, Seliph?"
One, two, three.
Seliph keeps a mental count of the steps as his body goes through the motions of the waltz. Follow the tempo. Don't step on your partner's toes. Many are undoubtedly focused on doing just that, too nervous to make a mistake.
Four, fiveâ
A familiar voice breaks the concentration.
âSix.
He is a split second slower in raising his arm, guiding her into a twirl. "...Sara?" She recognizes himâeven with the gloves he is wearing? Amazing, Seliph thinks, intrigued. As long as a blindfold casts his vision into darkness, he won't know whether he is sharing the dance floor with an acquaintance or a stranger.
"I am having a good time. I hope you are as well," he continues. "How did you know?"
He directs her into a gentle turn, slower on the uptake, while his question coaxes another shorter laugh from Sara's lungs. Speaking with Seliph always feels like an act of rebellion that must have her miserable grandfather rolling over in the grave, liberating Sara from the destiny blood had prescribed.
"That's kind of you to say," she remarks.
It is kinder than many think she deserves given their circumstances. The King of Grannvale should have nothing to do with remnants of the Loptr Church, let alone offer any small amount of trust, but Seliph walked his own path however narrow.
"I simply heard the footsteps of the oncoming era."
[ MOVIE - TRAGEDY ] - A techno-magical reproduction of a moving tragedy following a young prince seeking revenge against his uncle for the murder of his father. / /
âitâs not half-bad. theyâve got all the important elements right,â she admits. âthe lamentable hero and his hubris, the timely descent into his downfallâŚâ
dorothea shifts thoughtfully. her eyes remain affixed to the projections that flicker before them, watching with a trace of contrition. âyou know, tragedies are the operaâs most popular genre. people come flocking in search of that catharsisâbut after they've had a good cry, does the real message ever stay with them? for instance.â
she motions to the young prince. âheâs suffered an awful loss, thereâs no question about it. but you have to ask yourself: how much blood needs to be spilled to make something right?â
disregarding intricacies of the plotline, in another life, this lamentable hero could have been leif. sara half-listens to dorothea's commentary, reflecting on the reputation his uncle, sigurd, earned himself in jugdral during the rule of emperor arvis. it's not a completely fair comparison to either of them, but with the flaws in her own family, she cannot help drawing a comparison seeing the boy hero in the throes of anguish and grief after a great loss.
her eyes leave the scripted performance to turn to the diva beside her, expression partially masked by the darkness and cast in shadows.
"even in human history, the same tragedies repeat over and over," she murmurs in a pensive mood. "there is no poetry in tragedy though."
there's no glory or justice in suffering, only unsung heartache.
"loss cannot be divorced from life any more than death. it may sound cold, but in reality, a single emotion suspended in time shouldn't govern one's actions forever."
[ SNEAK ] - The Goddess Tower was a no-go before, but with flashy distractions at a high and visibility at a low, now is a better opportunity than you will get the rest of the night. The monastery staff have promised a very unforgiving punishment for those caught in forbidden grounds, but that only goes for those caught, right?
"â Sara." She states her name as if she hasn't said it in some time. It's because she hasn't. The Goddess Tower finds itself at a quiet hour, having seen the guards redirected elsewhere to take better control of other pressing matters. It is careless, she thinks, but it is also opportunity. She looks up towards the top of the tower. "I was thinking of you recently. I hope you're well." Edelgard takes a stride closer to its door. "I've heard many rumors about this tower. Yet, with all that circulation.. Here we are. At its foot, with nobody to stop us. Strange, no?"
For nobility and those with any desire established to rise through the ranks of society, attending events is little more than an obligation. Sara thinks this to herself when she sees Edelgard in passing, deflecting unwanted attention and socializing with people from all walks of life. Surrounded by professors and students, staff of the Church, and the rich elite that have been welcomed as guests, it is no small wonder that she comes to places like the Goddess Tower to steal back a moment for herself.
The vigilance of the moon prevails where knights have failed, raining light on the silent stone walkway and illuminating two girls in a silver glow, turning back the hands of time.
"Really?" she blinks back quietly because standing together only highlights the act of separation. Loss cannot break if attachments do not form, never given the chance to become permanent and put upon the shelf of recollection. Yet she falls into step with Edelgard with such unconscious ease, memory seems to rest in her body nonetheless.
"Well, thank you, I suppose. I'm not used to that."
While Edelgard had been among the few Sara personally informed of her dismissal, she seldom thought about how far their relationship progressed simply by sharing classes and completing missions under the Black Eagles banner.
With a strangely warm feeling nested in her chest, she tests the door to the tower and presses forward, nodding at her former house leader, "I found it odd, too. Students have always managed climbed the Goddess Tower, but security was increased this year. I thought, perhaps, rather than students, it may be those that joined us from afar under suspicionâŚ"
[ SEQUESTER ] "Huh? Oh... Sara?" For Ronan, this had been a wrong turn, the wrong door, and the wrong room. His eyes flit around the dark edges of the ceiling, then the corners, finding nothing particularly interesting except for the girl who's claimed this space for herself.
"What are you doing in here? Actually, I guess it's less surprising to find you in a place like this, than out there where the party is. I didn't think this kind of event was much to your taste." Cautiously, as if testing if the bank of a dark lake slopes into shallows or plummets abruptly into the depths, he steps past the threshold of the room and then stops again.
"It would be best if I brought you back to the rooms that are supposed to be used though. Like the ones with those moving pictures. Have you seen them?" His eyes light up with childlike excitement. "You have such strange magic yourself, so you must know what kind makes them move like that."
The first room she tries is too warm, the second too cold, but Ronan discovers her once Sara has found a room for herself that is just right, benefitting from all her hard work. A more selfish person would turn him away before he crossed through the door yet she doesn't even consider it, eyeing him patiently with a feeling just shy of actual fondness.
Tides of darkness ebb as Ronan enters the room, open door introducing light into the space.
"Next time you could choose to not presume my tastes," she tells him, sounding impartial, because the misconception doesn't exactly bother her. Ronan being wrong is of little consequence and evidently he himself hasn't taken advantage of the situation to enjoy himself if he has the time to attempt playing supervisor.
"But, alright, I'll humor you."
Sara leisurely retrieves her bouquet off the floor after feeling around for it, securing the spoils of her investigation in her other arm and leaving the shadows to enter the light.
"The magic you speak of was gifted to this monastery by The Projectionist. She perished last year in a battle to retake it, but her and Astarot's efforts proved indispensable and her legacy remains." The rustle of crinkling paper is heard as Sara shuffles her flowers to the side and holds out an older model of Photo-Artifex for Ronan to inspect on his own.
"Everyone called it illusory magic when we entered the illusions, however they seem to differ tonight. Given the chance, would you do it?"
folie Ă deux.
Ethereal Ball 2026 // continued from here
The sheer audacity of her statement, delivered point blank and to his face took him utterly off guard. For a moment a dozen emotions flashed through him. Anger, despair, rage, humiliation, more and more. Yet in the end, he surprised himself as he let out a laugh. One that actually built up, before he brought a hand up to smother it.
"Well. Far be it from me to argue with such a point blank assessment of my character. The standards I have are no doubt to high for most to manage." The fact that would be because his 'standards' are less to do with what he wants, and more about what he can never get back, go unmentioned.
Taking a moment, he thinks about those he had met. If he would trust them to be his partner in such a dance. Yet each time, no matter the occasion, there is only one person he wants in his arms. One he is unworthy of.
One he can never get back.
Letting out a sigh, he gives Sara a small shrug. "A thought for another time. The competition is over now, too late to get a partner. The evening as well is winding down." Finishing off the glass, he nods to Sara. "I think I'll go and relax. I'll bid you good evening Sara."
Her head tips in the direction of his laughter, fuller than before and reaching toward the heavens. Sara isn't quite certain which part struck him the most humorous, but when it finally tapers into speech, the door to his heart has been shut, any and all deeper feelings in the moment sealed away. He has a terrible habit still of telling only half-truths.
"Very well," she acquiesces without protest, having no desire to continue the conversation if Berkut himself doesn't. "I won't keep you then. It is not as though I am lacking for company."
How ironic to think she can declare that now given how and where she grew up. He doesn't press her on the topic of her wretched, lonely past, so Sara will extend him the same courtesy for now. Unlike Tina, she has no interest in him other than occasionally chatting when they happen to meet.
"Luckily, relaxing is a pastime you can perform alone."
[ FLOWER ARRANGEMENT ] - Plants are like people, but in none of the ways that matter. Though their last encounter involved an admission of incompetence, Sara catches his eyes landing on the spider lilies in her bouquet and offers one as a gift along with well-meaning instructions, "Wash your hands after you handle it. I do not wish to be responsible if you end up sick later. However if there is someone you wish to see fall ill, do not tell them, fufufu..."
He had been looking at her bouquet, actually.
No shame in itâthe different flowers they have in circulation at this party are something else. The ones she in particular totes around are unlike any others he's seen, bright red and almost creeping in shape. He'd be the last to call himself an expert on flowers, and that may be why he feels like he can safely say he hasn't seen any like them before.
And then, she offers one to him with what sounds like a warning.
Fogado blinks, before he makes sense of the situation. Or, at least, he thinks he does. "...oh! You're joking. Yeesh, you keep a good straight face. You almost had me going," he says, seeming genuinely impressed as he reaches out to take one from her. With his bare hand, mind you, because he didn't wear gloves tonight.
He looks at her again, and he realizes:
she's not joking, is she?
"...or, you're actually serious." He looks between the crimson bloom and her, chuckling half-amused and half-nervous. Silently, he resigns himself to either being done eating for the night or taking a rain check from classes tomorrow. "Yikes, are they really handing out flowers that dangerous? And expecting people to pass them around? Kind of seems like a disaster waiting to happen, and not even the fun kind of disaster."
Actually, hold that thought about himself taking a rain check from classes tomorrow.
"Aren't you worried you're going to get sick later, then? You're the one carrying them around all night."
Sara looks down at her hands, mostly to the bouquet and the spider lilies in question which are separated from her hands by thin, sparkly paper, and then looks at the boy whose expression betrays a measure of worry he projects.
"They're not dangerous." It is not a whole truth but a redirection. She clarifies, "At least not so dangerous that you would be beyond the help of a restore staff. Still, it is inadvisable to ingest food or touch certain orifices." And she had the decency to warn him out of the goodness in her heart, hence, mitigating the possibility of any harm to come.
Her lips twitch with a smile as flowers are shifted, the arrangement readjusted to account for having one less than before.
She has been around dark magic since birth and, in her humble opinion, turned out alright despite the dangers it posed at all times.
"Anyway, no, I'm not afraid and you shouldn't be either. My tolerance is higher than most, however that is beside the point, since the Church is good at cleaning up their messes. I saw another woman tonight with the same bouquet, so the potential disaster you speak of doesn't seem to be anyone's concern."
She laughs faintly, "Were you unaware of this side to Fodlan?"
folie Ă deux.
Ethereal Ball 2026 // continued from here
Berkut can't help the small laugh that escapes him, even as he shakes his head. "A jest, that's all. I wouldn't hold a grudge for such a thing like that." Not when there are true insults that were so much more worthy of his time.
"You participated? Using magic as well, must have been quite the sight." A smirk crosses his face as she perfectly paints the picture of her partner getting sick. "I suppose the result could have been worse for me. Makes me glad that I chose to do this by myself."
Sipping on the water, he thinks for a moment. "You know, speaking of partners, I've been told to try to have a partner for next year. What nonsense. While perhaps my score might have been better with another by my side, I doubt I could find anyone I trust enough for such a thing." Or anyone that would trust him.
He laughs and she hums. It is akin to understanding. Life shouldn't be lived just to accrue as many debts as grudges, fermenting and holding onto resentment. Sara didn't assign unnecessary meaning to actions or keep them in memory long, but he speaks of the past while facing forward and that, too, she understands.
The smirk returns to his face, making him look younger, for a moment. Her own expression softens. Ease finds her shoulders and she hums more.
"Oh?" That he has moved past his defeat and is forming plans for the future is a good sign. Sara can think of at least one girl that would no doubt delight in the chance to be his partner, but getting involved would only bring a new headache. These affairs have nothing to do with her, anyway.
"I wouldn't say trust is a requirement for dancing myself even if all the finalists were pairs." Berkut being stingy about who to give his trust doesn't come as a great surprise though. "Maybe you possess too high standards. You have been here for a while now, so you must have met at least a couple of worthy people. It sounds, to me, the problem could be you."
[ PHOTO-ARTIFEX ] The boxy device aimed at Finn emits a blinding flash without warning, spitting out a portrait which Sara shakes nonchalantly between forefinger and thumb as it develops in real time. "I've seen statues with more range of expression," she says in a way that makes it hard to tell whether she is joking. "Do you really want to remember your glory days like this?" Her head tilts with the question, gesturing to the boring wall she has cornered him by alone and pausing briefly. "...August once told me Quan and Ethlyn used to host extravagant, wasteful parties in Leonster for nobility, but seeing everyone dancing and smiling here tonight has given me a different perspective."
Ah, and to think he'd almost managed a night without being accosted.
The joke about statues feels particularly cruel with the memory of Eyvel's frozen face still something that he sees among his failures on his worst days. His flat expression grows flatter still with disapproval as he stares at her and waits for her to finish whatever it is she sought to do by finding him.
"Lord Quan and Lady Ethlyn were as generous as one would expect from people of their stature, and sought to share with their people all that they could." Finn himself had never partaken much in the merriment. It would have been above his station, as little more than Quan's squire. Still, he remembers when the parties would stretch on and he would start to struggle to hide his yawns, and Quan would take those quiet moments to confess to him how much he wished that his sworn friends from his Academy days could have been there too.
The shape of those old parties is here, but none of the spirit.
Still...for all her oddities, Sara is still a young girl. Perhaps she's not as divorced from dreaming and wishing as one might think at first glance. Though he hesitates at first, he eventually speaks. "I am sure that Lord Leif and Nanna's wedding will be something to rival even the best of their parties." Though he doesn't exactly want to think of that day either. "...when the time comes, circumstances permitting, I am sure you will be invited there too."
@shadoll
Intuitively, Sara knows Finn must have been young once. That doesn't make it any easier to imagine in the present day, but when he reminisces like this, she understands Quan and Ethlyn were more than names to him. His very life is a ledger of their existence. To enshrine Leif in her heart means accepting the devout man who has offered himself as the sacrifice. She must do more than tolerate his presence.
"Will you dress up for the occasion then?" Her eyes narrow in a tease, smile suddenly present. "Selfina will probably lecture you."
She bends to sit on the floor, trying to hand off the picture to him since clearly she has no use for it.
"I know they will invite me, I do not know that I will attend. You know how people there are. My blood always complicates things." A pause. "It is no great loss to me though, really. When we returned to Jugdral, I understood. I won't be with Leif, Nanna, and even you forever and I am alright with that."
Someday, she thinks, Leif will be too.
folie Ă deux.
Ethereal Ball 2026 // continued from here
She watches him through the transparent reflection in glass, the arrogant grin he so often wore temporarily missing as Berkut mulled over his loss in a rare show of vulnerability that Sara doesn't remark on. It's his choice to take away what he will from this experience, whether he uses it as motivation to do better in the future or be weighed down by his previous failures, but she doesn't believe he should concern himself with the opinion of the judges regardless.
Her brow quirks in inquiry when he raises another matter altogether, "I wasn't aware you were carrying a grudge this long. Didn't I apologize already?" Sara won't do it a second time even if Tina begs her now.
"As for my night, I found it nostalgic in truth. There was a year I participated in the White Heron Cup with a cheerful flame. We flooded the stage in magic and spun in dizzying circles until he ended up sick to his stomach, ahaha. I still remember the flush of his face during the first round."
@rigelprinceofdespair
@shadoll sent: [ CORN ] - "You will never guess who I saw among the contestants for the White Heron Cup," she giggles, hand drawn to her mouth as though a failure to stiffle her laughter could ruin the surprise, "Come on, you can't miss this."
( ethereal ball â first half prompts / white heron cup. )
    A bag of popped corn in his hand, Leif's about to throw one of the kernels up into the air and into his mouth when the sound of Sara's giggle throws him off. He catches it not with his maw but instead his bag, thinking fast before he blinks dumbly at the healer.
âThe White Heron Cup?? Oh, right, they brought that back this year...â Something he'd passed on, feeling nauseous at just the memory. Regardless of his past experiences, he humors his companion. âI hadn't realized you cared for things like that, Sara. But if it's interested you... Alright. Let's go.â
He allows himself to be led to the venue of the competition, quick as can be, only driven more curious by Sara's clear investment...
And when they get to the crowd, midway through the first round, it's clear immediately what she has dragged him here for.
âFinn?!?â
In truth, she wouldn't have bothered to watch most years, but Leif's expression alone makes dragging him over feel worthwhile. Though her laughter soon quiets to a hum, a smile remains while Sara loops her arm through his, cheek pressed against him.
Having acquired the reaction she hoped for already, her eyes wander purely out of curiosity to the other matches and competitors waiting in the wings. A few familiar faces here and there as well as a particularly eye-catching outfit which gives her temporary pause. Most surprising of all, however, is the fact Finn seems to have found himself a partner sometime after she stepped away to grab Leif.
"Do you know anyone else thatâOh, even Rafal has chose to participate. How interesting."
when someone new enters abyss, it's only a matter of time before it reaches them. every wall has ears and every building has eyesâtrue anywhere, of course, but perhaps in the underground city especially where so many hide. and yuri's good at asking, because people trust them enough to answer. how long, after all, have they safeguarded their home? perhaps too long, but never long enough either.
so yuri hears, inevitably, when she arrives. when someone arrives, at least, but the whispers that float to their ears paint a familiar enough picture that they set off to seek her out in time.
âmost people don't wander this far out through the tunnels, you know. lots of them look the same; they get all turned around. but fancy that. it really is you...â the heel of their boots click against cobblestone, echoing down the hall. they'd shooed off the kid they asked to point the way toward her ages ago with the promise of sweets snuck down from the dining hall for dinner, and so they meet her alone. yuri's not keen on having an audience, really, and somehow they doubt that she'd welcome one either. â...sara.â
it's not their business why she's hereâyuri never asks, not unless it starts to cause too much trouble. this time, though, they do. because they were there, so it's half their business; because they wonder if it really was what led her here; because it had been her magic that stopped them from cutting evette's throat, even if she still died in the end. âwhy are you here? because of that last mission? abyss isn't a place to rewrite endingsâit's where they come to disappear.â
they shrug. âso if it's guilt that brought you here, you'll fit right in. if it's not...well, you'll still fit right in. and if you got thrown in here, then no gold stars for guessing what i'll say next.â they rarely meet people on the surface first, then again in abyss. it's a bit strange, but she's here now. it won't matter for long. now, she's just another abyssian, so they offer the same they would for anyone else: âif you need anything, let me know. or don't. just don't cause any trouble and i'll have no reason to bother you. we already get plenty down here and no one wants more of it.â
there are so many peculiar sounds and sights to investigate in the subterranean labyrinth of meandering tunnels that sara nearly forgets this punishment disguised as recess reeks of conspiracy, that another wrong move could have her expelled from fodlan or worse and those on the surface would be none the wiser. she spent the earliest days of her youth trying to escape one hole in the ground only to land in another, but she can't be all that mad when the welcome committee appears to include a person who always has an answer for everything.
their steps, almost soundless when coming and going, resemble that of a phantom and spirits very much love to whisper. they likely already know the passage ahead doesn't lead anywhere but a cold, dead end, making it as good a grave as any to bury a secret or two.
entrusting her back to the darkness, she turns to yuri with a matching retort, "i'd ask the same of you if i hadn't come to learn you're quite popular among abyssians."
the underground city is a living organism in its own right and sara has long held an uncanny ability to keep an ear on the pulse of things of that nature.
"though rumors do not interest me so much as the truth." a sigh. "and i'm as uninformed as you as to the reason."
in a world where no deed goes unpunished, sara expects no sympathy from any man or god, but yuri's offer could easily be mistaken as concern. regardless of whether they are working an angle, an offer to help is an offer to help.
"still, i thank you. i will be looking into that reason until i find it. i make no promises to stay completely out of trouble, but i won't get in your way either. it seems to me that you, too, must have a history to end up here, so you should understand i shall do only what i think is right."
There it was. It wouldn't be Sara if she didn't ask probing, albeit thought-provoking, questions. It would be simple to write off as the curiosities of someone young, and perhaps it was on some level. But he feels he's come to know Sara a bit.
He knew some of her past, and saw the solemnity she carried as they traveled those tunnels underneath Aed all that time ago. It hadn't been sadness, but an unsettling acknowledgment of the world's darkness, the state of her upbringing, and every part of it that was lacking.
In moments like these, when she so directly questions him about things, it seems she's playing catch up.
"To give all of yourself for someone, priding their safetyâtheir happinessâover your own... to have your heart beat so deeply for another that their pain tears you in two; to lose your breath at the sight of them, to be lifted by the simple act of their smile..." He sighs, "It is a whirlwind of anxiety, yet a profound sense of calmness. For good or bad, it's home."
Then, he smiles. "I've seen these things in my own parents. In my family. I've definitely felt it myself." He reaches for his bouquet, taking out a hyacinth before handing it to her. "Love is many things, and the way it's defined can differ by the person. I'm sure that one day, you'll find the right definition for yourself."
His kindness is a crutch to unconsciously lean on even if Sara can't see herself as broken. Nothing strikes harder than pity, but Diamant hasn't once forced it upon her. The tale of Sara's existence will not end in tragedy because he has granted her the knowledge and language to write a new narrative.
Home, he sighs, looking more happy than distressed. Fondness forms the wrinkle of a smile and his blue hyacinth is bequeathed like a lasting declaration of loyalty and friendship.
"I see," she says, simply, because maybe love should be simple. Maybe love isn't one person's to possess alone.
Rafal had similar sentiments about love and dating. Though Sara can seek another opinion as desired, much of life must be experienced firsthand and blindly. The path she takes to reach a definition must be her own.
"I do not believe I have ever been loved that way." It is a fact, no more or less. Love never factored among her priorities and the happinesses she managed to carve for herself didn't hinge on finding it either.
"Everything you have given me, I will bear it in mind."
[ STEAL ] It's the type of accident which stems from a careless attitude, a sickness that frequently is also the cure, righting itself before lasting damage has been done. By the same random stroke of chance Sara picked up the wrong bouquet somewhere, she realized her mistake along the way and promptly took the initiative to rectify things.
"I think we traded flowers without meaning to. I thought I was the only person who had spider lilies tonight." A pause. "...Say, if I decide to give you one of mine on purpose now, how does the staff know that I did? Can they really tell the difference when our flowers look identical?"
Ethereal Ball 2026 - Second Half
As Poe has come to expect, this girl's presence is announced with a question. It's not a bad oneâwhen she were a child, she might have wondered the same. She has long since grown accustomed to quashing these questions for herself when they come to mind, so much the same here, she has an answer seemingly without much thought: "That would be easily verifiable, though, wouldn't it?"
She moves to explain furtherâshe can tell by now this girl is sharp, and likely that was enough that she would eventually be able to draw her own conclusions, but Poe can never resist elaborating. "If they suspected I was lying for my own gainâ" she raises an index finger, "âthey could just ask you. Unless we'd discussed beforehand, you would answer truthfully, and I would be exposed."
It seems obvious to her. The risk that came with lying was that lies always eventually revealed themselves. The truth was immortal; each lie came with its own ultimate and predestined demise.
"And if we had discussed beforehand... well, why wouldn't we have just exchanged lilies then and there? Isn't lying about it, hoping that you will cover for me, and risking myself much scarier?"
To her, who is practiced in the truth, being honest was the path of least resistance. She knows, though, that for many this is not the case. If it were, people like Poe wouldn't need to exist. Still, the reality remains: "When push comes to shove, being truthful is always the safest option." She says with a satisfied nod, reaching out to take her bouquet from the girl. While they may have started the same, by the other flowers that have made their way into it throughout the night, Poe can discern hers with some confidence looking closely. "...you think so too, don't you?"
Otherwise, why bother bringing to Poe's attention that their bouquets had unwittingly been swapped?
"It was right of you to bring this back to return it."
Sara has long been an anthology of bad habits, branded a lost cause as early as childhood before she understood they could become so deeply ingrained. Yet former caretakers who attempted to steer her toward and promote their own agendas always neglect mention that she is teachable. No one is more receptive to voices than Sara. Eager to learn of the world kept from and misrepresented to her, she reserves an avid ear for perspectives that challenge. She asks countless questions hoping to gain insight into people since even the wrong answers can be revealing.
Her head nods along, listening to the hypothetical scenarios drawn up in example. She agrees, mostly at least. There is little benefit to lying, especially over such a trivial matter, but it has never stopped others before. Not every lie contains malice and not every truth serves a greater good. Still, she looks convinced enough to not further press the issue this time.
"I do if you can believe it," Sara professes aloud and without vanity then adds, "When I am lied to, I know in an instant."
Which is to say some part of her appreciates the willingness to be candid on a variety of topic, to supply answers and a small glimpse into her mind.
"Seeing as our paths likely will continue crossing, you should know my name. I'm Sara." Not dissimilar to the act of trading flowers, it is an exchange. Generosity should be rewarded in the just world this woman totes. Virtue demands a sacrifice. "I'd like to know yours as well."
sugar, spice, and everything nice.
Ethereal Ball 2026 // continued from here
veyle blinks, staring down at the hauntingly beautiful red flower placed neatly in her hand. "wow. they gave you such pretty flowers." she says her thoughts out loudâ then blushes when she realizes she had.
"that is, uhm... thank you." fell princess manages a smile as she carefully places the lily into her bouquet. it looks nice next to the rose nel gave me.
"oh, here! you can have one of my orchids! i don't know what it means but it's also pretty isn't it?" she feels the beauty is lost a little with herself as the owner, but that's not something she says out loud.
"i don't hold any loyalty to the church or anythingâ it's just easier to do good things for other people if i work for them... i think." she holds out the orchid towards sara, waiting for her to take it. "so uhm, if you have any bad experiences with churches or something... i'm sorry." oh divine one, she is fumbling her words so badly..!
Where Sara is honest, Veyle is honestly genuine. The difference may seem negligible, but Veyle's bashfulness tells a different, sorry story than her own. It has been well-documented spider lilies do not blossom in full until their leaves are shed, unfurling only after a sense of loss can be felt.
With a small nod, she accepts the orchid and generosity both, thinking to herself Veyle also might be carrying things which impede her growth too, decaying leaves on the verge of coming off the person she wants to be.
"No need to apologize, you do not have to explain yourself to me."
Maybe there could people in her past who deserve to hear an apology, but Sara is not one of them.
"It is enough to do good, I think, no matter the reason. Flowers have no more say in the garden they are planted than people do, but unlike them, we can reposition our roots, don't you agree?"
