exhalted ⚔︎ blade

⚔︎ "The Exalt of Ylisse and descendant of the Hero-King." Closed Chrom RP Blog | Black Eagles Instructor Associated w/ The Officer's Academy

[soulsaligned]

The Emblem of Bonds

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[soulsaligned]

Selena's not thrilled about this.. but alas, she must. This man must pay.. pay for his crimes..! It's with a huff in her cheeks and a pounding of each step that the redhead brings herself before one of the men she loathes the most. Stay professional, girl.. men ain't worth shit.

With a lack of any grace, the redhead throws a tulip at the lord, the scowl a permanent mark etched into her expression as she glares at Chrom.

❛ You're ugly.. you're disgusting... I'll kill you. Give me two hundred credits-!! ❜

No, her face is not flush! It's.. it's just an effect of her war-snarl!

   Flabbergasted, taken aback, Chrom blinks once, then once more as he registers the young woman before him. Apparently this Ball was chock full of reunions for Chrom this eve, though in some part, this one was welcomed one-sidedly.

   “Severa… it’s nice to see you as well,” Chrom awkwardly laughs in response to her insults and sudden request for funds. He bends to take hold of the tulip tossed in his direction, and fidgets with it in hand, with the selfsame awkwardness as his approach to conversation with Severa. Chrom was acutely aware of the manner in which Cordelia’s daughter… carries disdain for him, though he could never gather why. It wasn’t hatred, that much he could tell but…

   Whatever the reason was, Chrom was not certain he could pinpoint it even in an empty room. 

   “While I cannot at the moment offer any funds in return… hm…” A hyacinth is removed from his personal bouquet, and with a gentle flair, Chrom presses it into Severa’s hands. It was the least he could do, especially since it felt better to offer such kindness in the face of… any sort of insult coupled with a flower. “I hope that is proper recompense?”

   Sighing, he offers a bow. “I am happy to see that you are safe and sound… Thus that accounts for two of you. I’ve seen Inigo and now you, yet haven’t seen my own nephew anywhere… I don’t presume you know where he could be?”

[soulsaligned]

[ 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.

   This manner of new technology introduced each Ball continued to baffle Chrom to no end, and this was no exception. To see a theatrical performance of sorts but through the same manner of those Photo Artifexes throughout the Ball felt… modern, in a way that he could not put into proper words.

   It was nice too, to be able to see such a film with a friend; dragging Elffin to see the ‘movie’, Chrom did not initially take into consideration the fact that his sight would be of issue. To that, as quietly as he could, Chrom offers descriptions of the ‘movie’ throughout it, though there is discomfort in his voice as the ‘movie’s’ plotline filters through it. He is as quiet as could be, though sometimes a look or two is tossed in his direction. 

   When over, Chrom takes a deep breath, turning to his friend in tow. “I… apologize, for a number of reasons. The plot for one…” It was uncomfortable for Chrom, envisioning himself in the shoes of the young Prince… he, at one point a man who wished for nothing but ruin to befall his father. Surely Elffin felt similar discomfort, as well for the topic matter, rather than personal relatability. “And for two… the simple fact that I did not take your sight into account when bringing you along… I would love to repay you in other ways, however…”

   Chrom takes out a hyacinth from his batch, gently placing it into Elffin’s hands. “For now, please take this as proper recourse, Elffin. Thank you for indulging in this with me… though again, I apologize several times over.”

[soulsaligned]

[ STEAL ] - Purposeful or not, it looks like you've gotten your hands on something that isn't yours. You may want to return that before anyone notices. Or you may want to start running.

   Having been robbed earlier during the event, accidentally absconding with another’s item is quite ironic, to say the least. Even more so that it was an item of his own student’s. 

   A flower. Accidentally stealing a flower from Panette’s collection was, for many reasons, unfair. Most of all knowing that others had been giving away and collecting flowers amongst one another throughout the course of the Ball. And when he finally sees her once again, there is a sigh of relief. 

   “Panette… I’m very sorry,” characteristically so, Chrom’s voice carries a deeply apologetic tone. He hangs his head low in a bow, before both returning Panette’s orchid, and a hyacinth of Chrom’s own. A gesture of apology, offered through the means appropriate for this setting. He doesn’t believe Panette will carry any sort of animosity, however Chrom was not the sort of man to commit any such infraction without proper apology. 

   Chrom clears his throat, “would you take my hyacinth as an apology? Otherwise I could provide some other sort of means in the way of offering my apologies?” He doesn’t want to feel as though he would be getting away with any sort of crime; yet he cannot offer proper recourse without deepened understanding. 

[ninisdance]

dance your heart away.

White Heron Cup / Round 1, Match 1

[milafaithful]

When the following pair crashes to the floor, Silque flinches in time to the gasp of the crowd, nearly turning to bury her face in Ninian's shoulder. But look she must, because isn't that her duty, beyond all the fanfare and revelry of such a lavish ball?

The young man pulls his partner to her feet, and Silque can tell, with years of experience, that the hand on her back is not placed just for show. So as soon as they step off stage, the cleric rushes to greet them, pulling Ninian along in her wake.

"Are either of you badly hurt?" White magic flickers in her hands as she worries, crouching to examine the girl's injury. "Goodness, that's red. It's sure to bruise, unless we---"

With those murmured words, Silque presses her palm firmly to the girl's shoulders, closing her eyes on the exhale. The earth mother's grace drains from her fingers, stitching the tissue whole once more.

When her eyes flutter open again, she turns to offer the pair a sympathetic smile. "In Mila's name, that was quite the tumble! I really am sorry," she says, eyes soft. "What are your names? You two make a lovely pair."

[aliberation]

Oh, Alear can't look at the woman who offers her help, instead opting to bury her face in her hands. Her face burns with such embarrassment that she knows it extends down her neck and onto her chest, as well as her ears-- and there's absolutely nothing she can do about it. How does she explain this is the second time she's been on the floor during this event? How does she explain the first time WASN'T an accident? This one was, though. That's the important part. This one was.

Before she has a chance to answer, though, there's a warmth and a soothing feeling that spreads throughout sore muscles; it coaxes Alear to look up and glance over her shoulder in search of the redness that she knew would bruise... only to find nothing. Impressive healing magic, and done so quickly, too. "I'm okay now, thanks to you." Alear flashes a smile, albeit a sheepish one. "I'm Alear, and this is Chrom- it's nice to meet you, um...?" She certainly doesn't recognize this woman, and she knows for sure she'd recall someone as beautiful as her. A lovely pair, was it? She does giggle at that, her hand resting lightly against Chrom's shoulder. "Well, you may be the only one who thinks that after THAT display. But I appreciate it! The two of you paint a gorgeous picture of a couple- your dresses are stunning! And I think it's very cute that your blues complement each other." They seem happy, and if they had to lose in such a humiliating way, at least it was to a couple that embodied the romance of everything the ball offered.

"Congratulations on this round. I'll be rooting for you both on the next one, okay?"

@milafaithful @soulsaligned @ninisdance

[soulsaligned]

   Recovery magic is a powerful thing, and to that; Chrom feels a sense of relief in the midst of his embarrassment that one of their opponents had been a Cleric. 

   Yet his embarrassment doesn’t dwindle, especially when the Cleric refers to he and Alear as a ‘lovely pair’. It is a genuine compliment, yet one that feeds into Chrom’s bashfulness at the moment. So much so that he is left unable to speak; lucky is it that Alear handled introductions on their shared behalf. He nods along when he is introduced, and offers a light bow. 

   As Alear goes to compliment the two dancers, he nods in agreement. “She is correct, you both were in wondrous sync. I still have much to learn yet,” Chrom smiles, a warmth radiant as he does. “And I believe that I still need to work on my memorization of Ylisse’s waltz as well…” As the ruling exalt, Chrom is embarrassed that he still has not mastered the dance of his countrymen, yet he was never as strong of a dancer as he would wish to be. “All the same, I too will continue to wish for your victory in the rounds to come. It would be nice to see as dashing of a couple as the two of you claim victory, after all.”

   And, following their own incident, Chrom can’t help but nervously laugh in turn as he gives warning to the two ladies in tow. “Please, though, be careful. Neither Alear nor myself are capable healers… but I’m sure I speak correctly for the both of us in saying that we will jump to your aid if the situation permits.”

@ninisdance hi bestie i hand it to youuuu

[misericordel]

i hired your crush's little sister to stare at you — chrom & veyle

toaball2026 – continue from here

[misericordel]

"oh, it's not about that." she shakes her head but doesn't elaborate any further. sure she could tell him that she's a fell dragon, but she thinks it doesn't really matter at this point.

also, this isn't about her.

"hehe." she giggles, placing her hands back on her hips. it feels nice to give others some confidence in themselves. (did her sister feel like this when she helped her keep going? she wonders briefly. ) "you uh.. you got this, yeah!" then she pauses and looks around for a familiar face.

it's not hard to spot red and blue hair at all— she sees alear talking to someone she doesn't know pretty quickly.

"i'll put in a good word for you. it'll definitely go well. so just wait here!"

[soulsaligned]

   Chrom wants to question why Veyle expected her to be gazed at with any sort of weirdness but… He doesn’t. It isn’t his place, nor would it be fair of him to pry into the life of one he knows more through circumstance than anything. If she wished to speak more on it, she would. 

   But he can admit, it felt nice, seeing someone so similar to his own little sister seem almost proud of herself. Despite the embarrassment of the present situation, it was almost worth having his feelings dredged up through his gritted teeth. “Understood, I’ll… wait. Though perhaps I will wander, a bit? I must admit, staying still is a lot…” Especially when so much was riding on an interaction that he wouldn’t even be present for. 

   So he bows, with that in mind. Of course, it is painfully likely that he would run into Veyle again after this; for how large this Ball is, it is rather easy to stumble into people you know without question. Especially if they sought you out with purpose. Chrom knows that it wouldn’t be hard to find him, and vice versa, and something about that is as comforting as it is terrifying. 

   “Thank you once again and… perhaps, regardless of what happens, we could chat once more? I would love to be able to speak of my own little sister, I believe she would be endeared by you.” And she likely would be standing at Veyle’s side, woefully trying to push Chrom towards his feelings just as she had in this moment. 

   “Best of luck. Or should I be the one trying to channel in luck?”

end! god help us all and all that...

[ninisdance]

dance your heart away.

White Heron Cup / Round 1, Match 1

[milafaithful]

What Silque did not even realize she lacked in preparations, Ninian makes up for in spades. In retrospect, she supposes she should have known that a competition at such a prestigious academy would have quite the exacting standards. But how was she to know what they were, before Ninian sighed in fond exasperation at her two-footed turns? And how was she to understand it was a contest with real stakes, before Ninian nodded in approval, offered a quiet one more time?

It all makes Silque feel a little silly. Still, now, in her mind, the stakes are set. She hardly minds looking the fool, not if it settles Ninian's shoulders, brings that alluring, sharp focus to the girl's gaze --- and there is a power to it, is there not, for Ninian? A joy that frees her.

So the pilgrim who has walked a thousand steps will dance a thousand more, to bring that joy to where everyone can see. Silque's feet do not tire; it is no burden at all.

Even when her partner's confidence begins to waver again, carmine gaze fluttering to and fro their competitors, Silque only squeezes the girl's hand tighter. See that girl over there with the two-toned hair, perfectly mirrored in her partner's vest?

But we match, too, Silque thinks, as she presses shoulder to shoulder and waits for the starting notes to sweep through the hall. As you are looking at me, and I am smiling back at you.

In the end, it's a perfect ten for style, because love is given so freely it was never merely a portrayal; a surprising seven in technique, because all of Ninian's critiques still amounted to something; and, well, a meagre two for choreography, because even Silque knows, for the middle set of steps, she had completely forgotten to let go of Ninian's hand.

What a thrill! To delighted cheers from the spectators, Silque spins herself clumsily beneath Ninian's arm as they step off the stage. "A little change of pace, yes?" she laughs, watching the gears already begin to turn behind the dancer's eyes. "I trust your judgment, Ninian. I'll do my best to keep up, hehe!"

[aliberation]

Oh, gods. Maybe Alear didn't realize exactly what she was getting into with this, because the pairing in front of them are really impressive with their moves-- everything flows beautifully, they're perfectly in-sync, and to her untrained eye... it seems flawless. Objectively, the Divine Dragon knows that likely isn't true, but it doesn't help with the nerves that thrum under her skin. Made worse by glancing over to Chrom. Sure, they'd practiced, but maybe not enough for this. Either way, she's come this far, and Alear clears her throat as she places one hand in his; win or loss, victory or defeat, they'd both made a decision to see this through to the end with one another. He's seen her at her worst tonight-- she's still got to show off her best! (Sweet, naive Alear.) When the music begins to swell, her shoulders are stiff and she struggles to will herself to relax. Her heart hammers in her chest and she can feel the burn of embarrassment already settling on her cheeks when she's done nothing to garner that reaction. Perhaps it's the vulnerability that comes, but Alear raises her gaze to lock eyes with Chrom-- if she can't stand the idea of everyone looking at them while she teeters through these awkward steps, then she can look at the one thing that grounds her in this moment. There is a problem to that, though. It means she's paying less attention to what she's actively doing and instead getting lost in the comfort that a familiar face provides; there's no fluidity, there's no cadence, there's no grace when her foot catches on his and she stumbles. Gripping his shoulders is enough to save her, and she lets out a long breath of relief. At least until she tries to allow herself to be ushered into a separation. Her hands are clammy, they shake, and Alear looks absolutely pitiful as she slowly leans a little bit too far backward... and goes tumbling. An undignified yelp is loud enough to draw attention as she flounders and tries to hold on to her partner by winding her arms tightly around his neck-- only to drag him with her, landing on her back with a loud 'OOF' and a thud. "Owwww, oww...." Ugh, nothing can go right during this night, can it? Oh- "Chrom, are you okay? I'm so, so sorry-"@soulsaligned

[soulsaligned]

   Their opponents moved with swiftness, and grace, though even to Chrom’s untrained eye they lacked a distinct choreography. Despite that, their display of skill was impressive to behold. And for a moment, Chrom can swear that there’s… something? In their closeness. Whatever it may have been, it was quiet, yet palpable.

   It only teased out further nervousness within Chrom’s heart. 

   And perhaps such thoughts influenced Chrom as he brought Alear into the dance to follow. His steps were focused, though each step taken failed to stand out. His technique was practiced, indicative of someone who spent time, and time again, yet they are middling still. While their opponents garnered rapturous cheer, hardly a peep could be heard among those watching Chrom and Alear’s each step.

   And… perhaps those thoughts were infectious still. Alear had been stiff their entire way through, perhaps the nervousness of performance in tandem with the many eyes that had been on her far longer than just this moment alone were consuming her. And perhaps that, by proxy, began to consume Chrom in tow. 

   For all it took was a singular misstep,

   And everything, like a house of cards, came crashing before all those unwitting souls who bear witness. 

   Chrom is unable to catch himself, though his partner cushions his fall as she pulls them both to the ground. Thus, nary physical pain stems from the collision. Yet, when he is able to sit up, and able to realize how he had fallen. 

   “Oh in Naga’s name- I AM SO SORRY! Are you okay?!” He shoots upright, face flushed brilliant crimson from embarrassment. He scrambles to help Alear to her feet, though perhaps the present humiliation added to his fumbling. 

   And the scores teased by the judges hardly helped either. As Chrom so awkwardly helps Alear to her feet, he is graded; a six for his technique, clear as day of someone practiced in a noble waltz, a five for his style, for it left much to be desired, though the skill he possessed was clear as day regardless.

   And a measly one for his choreography, fitting, as two bumbling idiots tumbling to the ground following a sort of romantic display was hardly something to be considered as choreography at all. 

   “Fuck,” he quietly curses under his breath, opting to take his partner's hand once they both are finally standing upright. 

yuri win though we take those

[aliberation]

practice makes perfect

toaball2026 w/ @soulsaligned

[aliberation]

Going back inside is more daunting than Alear originally thought it would be; Chrom didn't seem so keen after a point, either... so it only made sense for them to hover around the gardens, hidden mostly from view yet still able to enjoy the light cadence of the music that filtered over to them. They certainly don't need any kind of a crowd to have fun, and in a stroke of inspiration-- she grabs his hands, tugging him to a more open area with a big grin on her face. It's easy to pull him into a proper stance, adjusting his hands to place one on her waist and the other snug in hers. "Okay, well... that was a bit of an embarrassing performance." She sighs, tugging him closer and glancing down to ensure that she's not going to trample all over his feet. "I guess I just got- nervous. With so many eyes on us. And after everything else that happened..." It could've been worse, honestly. That's what has her letting out a soft laugh, along with a shake of her head. "I did have fun at least, though. Even if we did make fools of ourselves. Now that it's just us..." "Maybe we can have a proper dance? Without us falling all over each other?" @soulsaligned

[soulsaligned]

   “Huh- Oh!” Without much thought or opportunity for rejection, Chrom is pulled into a dance position. 

   His face shines that of brilliant crimson as he looks away; their loss was embarrassing, sure, but the way in said loss came to be was far more embarrassing to Chrom than he could put to words. Even now, as they steadily dance together, all he can muster is a quiet “I’m sorry…”

   As he is pulled closer, Chrom’s eyes train to the ground, admiring the grass they stood on. One deep breath followed by another, before he can find the confidence to properly focus on Alear. “We… yeah. I did have fun, I’m sorry I was not of much use as a partner.” He laughs awkwardly at his self-deprecating comment. 

   Yet, as much as Chrom felt the heat of embarrassment lingering through his body, it was hard for him to deny how happy he was to have been close with Alear in this present moment. To that, a smile forms on his blushed face, and consideration crosses the mind. Perhaps she was right, and what they needed to perform well was to be alone. “In that case,”

   “Shall we dance, partner?” 

   Without waiting for a response, Chrom begins to guide the two in a waltz; and as he does he chastises himself mentally once more. ‘Where was this when we needed it for the competition?’ 

   “Hah…” Perhaps the intimacy of the moment causes Chrom to show a more vulnerable part of himself. “I’m really glad I am not merely an Emblem attached to a ring, or bracelet.” He muses, words reminiscent of the ones Alear had spoken to him many times before, “after all, how could-!” but he quickly shuts up, uncertain if what he wishes to say is right to say. 

@aliberation girl we fumbled the bag

[soulsaligned]

[ STEAL ] - Purposeful or not, it looks like you’ve gotten your hands on something that isn’t yours. You may want to return that before anyone notices. Or you may want to start running.

"I'm so sorry, Chrom, I don't know how I ended up with this," Lianna apologised as she handed over the item to her once ally. She didn't even know if this Chrom knew her or not. "Please, take a rose as part of my apology as well."

   Why on earth did Chrom care so much about a stupid hat?

   Wading through the sea of Ball goers was a tireless endeavor in its own right as is, yet doing so with a missing item was… ‘Blast it all…’ Yet another issue that lay upon a steadily growing pile. It wasn’t even like the hat was nice looking, nor was it like it was given to him with the greatest of intentions in mind; yet something in Chrom felt guilty at the idea that the stranger’s offering would go to waste.

   Surely that was but a self-made issue. 

   In his hunt, focused on finding his hat and that alone, Chrom bumps into another; “Sorr- oh! Lianna! Hello-” and as she offers a rose and his missing hat, Chrom all but lets out a sigh of deep relief, loosening all the while. “Oh my GODS Lianna you’re a life saver!” Taking the hat and rose from her hands, Chrom offers a hearty shake to Lianna’s hands. A reunion offered by a most awkward means. “Thank you so much… it’s good to see that you’re well, as well!”

   As Chrom places his hat where it belongs, he takes a hyacinth from his bouquet to offer as thanks. “Please, take a flower. And don’t worry about absconding with my hat, it was an accident as you say, so all's well that ends well!”

[rafent]

[ SPOTLIGHT ] - One of the lights in the main hall is mistakenly left operational—and its angle readily adjustable. Set up for an impromptu performance of your own, or play the world's most extra wing-man by making a friend the center of all attention.

Chrom stares at Rafal awkwardly, as a light seems to suddenly fall onto them without explanation. He's unsure of what to do, whether or not this should be a sign of ill omen, but what he is sure of is the eyes that fall on them as a result.

Clearing his throat, Chrom whispers, hyacinth in hand. "What should we do...?"

All Chrom wanted to do was give Rafal a flower as an apology for his behavior at the last Ethereal Ball...

Fateful, was it not? How two souls utterly unlike might gravitate toward one another in spite of their many differences. Just as Chrom had been looking for him, so, too, had Rafal been seeking the other - albeit for his own reasons. The strong desire to keep watch once more over the shadow of an Emblem he once failed, the original he would treat differently, given this second chance to do so.

And: tragic, was it not?

". . .!!" In the center of an unwanted spotlight, they alone stood: the Fell Dragon and the Emblem, the hero and the villain, Rafal and Chrom, all their images and selves superimposed, overlapping, surging, across a single moment. Whatever their intentions toward one another, whatever their plans, all must be waylaid by the ambush of a stage. An audience which awaited their performance with bated breath.

What should we do? Silent, Rafal stared at Chrom long and hard. They could not depart without first applying an effort. They could not simply leave without evoking the judgment of the crowd, which mattered little to Rafal, but did greater for a human susceptible to ostracization by his own peers. For Chrom, this dereliction of duty may as well amount to his social downfall. How was it, then, that they might be saved?

That salvation began with a hard slap of Chrom's hand.

"Watch out!!" As if instead a heinous hemlock flower, the innocent hyacinth drifted to the floor: a victim of its circumstances. A villainous plot. The dragon let out a nervous and fluttering breath as it touched to the ground - yes, nervous and fluttering. Innocent and glistering of eye, alongside. "Phew~ that was a close one! Someone really has it out for you, huh? First it was that snake you found in your shoe yesterday, then that runaway horse that almost ran you over this morning, and now this. . ."

The kind young man straightened and shook his head. 'The kind young man', because whoever this was was certainly not Rafal. He smiled gently, cushioning—cradling—Chrom's smacked fingers between his own. Soft. Too damn soft.

"Hehe. Don't worry, partner. I've got your back. Now, let's go!"

[soulsaligned]

   The flower drifts lifelessly to the ground, it too a victim of unfortunate circumstance. 

   The way in which Rafal swats the flower from Chrom’s hand like a poison causes the Exalt to stand in stunned silence. The warning offered does little to suffuse the shock, and everything to confuse Chrom. It’s clear that this is some sort of plot, a means to feign their escape from present embarrassment, and this marks yet another interaction where such a distraction is necessary...

   But the way he breathes feels… familiar, and the way he lies so easily before the crowd is in itself reminiscence. In that moment Chrom wonders if Rafal had always been this cunning; whether or not he had been a Tactician in his own right. Each action Rafal takes is itself a mirage in Chrom’s eyes, steadily tracing the shadow of another with close precision. 

   And when Rafal reaches for Chrom’s hand, perhaps it is instinct driven by recognition of that selfsame shadow, that causes Chrom’s hand to tighten around Rafal’s own. Even the way he calls him ‘partner’ feels so eerily familiar. 

   “Right… Right! I suppose someone must’ve mixed hemlocks amidst my hyacinths… Let’s be off, Ro-” He clears his throat, “-friend.” And before anyone could call to question Chrom’s hesitation, he pulls Rafal away, as if taking him to find the individual that had given away bouquets to begin with. Instead, he quickly finds a random room, out of sight from the prying eyes of the others, and with buried steps Chrom rushes inside, and shuts the door behind him just as quickly. 

   Now they were alone, and- letting go of Rafal’s hand, Chrom allowed his hands to come to rest at his knees. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath, uncharacteristic of who Chrom had presented himself to be. “S-Sorry… And thank you, that was quick thinking on your part…”

[soulsaligned]

[ SEQUESTER ] - Some rooms remain unused, and while by the padlocks on their doors you suspect they are meant to remain that way, some poor sap seems to have forgotten to make sure they were locked properly. They make for an excellent space away from the chaos of the rest of the ball—though you may not be the first one there.

   The Ethereal Ball is overwhelming, and while Chrom isn’t as large of a fan of skulking away from the noise of it all, it is clear that he needs a moment to himself to adjust. A room, one that should’ve been locked yet clearly wasn’t, acts as his salvation. The guilt of breaking and entering will set in later, for he needs to allow his embarrassment to subside. 

   He is still in his panicked thoughts, a wealth of emotions coalescing within, and yet those thoughts are interrupted by the noise of an open door; someone else needed a moment of respite just as he had, and they were already in the room before “occupied” could leave his throat. 

   And he offers a wave and a tip of a hat. “Hello, Yuri.” His voice isn’t as welcoming as it should be, and Chrom knows they don’t deserve that. But he’s overwhelmed, and because of that it’s hard to feign noble pleasantries. He also cannot find it in himself to kick them out; they don’t deserve that, either. “I hope you don’t mind my being here…” Chrom laughs quietly, “I see we both needed a moment to ourselves?”

   He kept his bouquet with him at all times, passively handing them around to people whenever he could. With that in mind, Chrom reaches, taking a red hyacinth from his bunch. “Would you like a flower as recompense? It’s… sort of all I have to offer at this moment.”

[thelightofcreation]

[ PHOTO IN MOTION ] - And in addition, this year boasts a similar device bolstered by new advancements that allow it to capture more than just a moment; now, even motion and sound can be immortalized forever. Take a video with a friend—or catch something juicy you'll want to keep up your sleeve for later.

"Ah, I remember you; we made use of the photo-artifex together at the last Ball!" Chrom eagerly greets the familiar man, though he doesn't seem to remember his name, or if such pleasantries were ever even exchanged. This time, Chrom wasn't in a suit of armor, but rather a proper suit (with a missing jacket now, to boot). Less embarrassing, at least.

Laughing a bit awkwardly, Chrom holds out a hyacinth. "Call it keeping tradition, but would you like to take a brief photo in motion together? I'm interested in seeing how this fancy contraption works..." Perhaps to show his little sister as well, as he wished to in the year prior.

"Oh?" It wasn't the photo that Sephiran remembered him by most prominently- though who could blame him? It would be difficult to overcome the sight of the two women screaming in silence in the ballroom. Fighting over him, as per Sanaki's words.

But who was to say?

"I'd be honored to, of course." He saves his commentary for when they're in the booth, picking through the flamboyant props with an air of quiet ease. He starts with something simple, innocent even.

"You're missing your jacket. Care to replace it with one of these?" He isn't taking no for an answer, dropping a few mismatched props into the other's arms. Then, "I see you've picked your side in the conflict from earlier."

"Though as interesting as this is, I'm afraid any souvenir wouldn't match the story you have to tell, wouldn't it?"

(Oh, but he's never been the direct sort in this form of teasing.)

While he gives the swordsman some time to adjust, he finds the button on the contraption and presses it discretely, stepping out of its view as if to inspect its workings.

[soulsaligned]

   Chrom’s smile wavers, though it doesn’t drop entirely, as the myriad of props fall into his arms. It is in this moment that he realizes that the not-so-stranger is ever so similar to Sanaki in their odd choice of behaviors. He opens his mouth to call such a fact to attention- “haha, you know, you remind me of-”

   And then all of the various trinkets fall to the ground, and Chrom’s face flushes a sublime crimson as the man so subtly teases him over something that Chrom would take recognition in rather well. “HEY!” But it is far too late. Chrom is scrambling to pick up everything he dropped, while this unfamiliar man had already moved over to the machine instead. And in a moment, a simple sound escapes his lips, “bah!” as he drops everything once more, clambering over to the man, his face a canvas painted expertly with embarrassment. 

   “Wh-What do you mean I picked a side!?! What stories about me did you hear?! Did Sanaki say something to you????” She had been with Chrom when the events earlier unfolded; did she move to spreading salacious rumors about her own professor behind his back?

   Oh Heavens, Chrom will need to speak to her later if she’s at fault for this…

[soulsaligned]

i got my ass beat bruh i’m not posting that shit.

ethereal ball '26 | chrom comforts alear post punch bowl tm | cont from here :)

[aliberation]

She barely registers the handkerchief at her cheek, instead focused more on the warmth of his palm at her other-- surely, at some point in the near future, Alear will be horrified at her own display in front of Chrom... but right now, it only feels right to raise her hand and let it gently rest on top of his as she leans into the touch. For now, it feels like most of her tears have already dried; this isn't the end of the night, and he's right when he says they don't have to return. ... But she wants to. Her fingers squeeze his hand as she glances up at him properly, the soft fabric dabbing at the few streaks of wet that still remain. There's one last sniff that comes as she nods in agreement. "It's okay if it does, I'm sure I can fix it in the bathroom." Alear does let out a bit of a hoarse laugh at that, finally finding her voice amidst all of this disaster. "But, um- Chrom?" Nobody should have to see her this way. Nobody should have to see her stumbling over her own two feet when she's a grown woman and thrust into a position far beyond her meager years as a divine dragon. If she had to pick anyone, though, she's glad that it's him-- because here and now, she's just Alear. He's just Chrom. No Divine Dragon, no Exalt. Despite their knowledge of each others' positions, they've both chosen to know the person beneath it all. At their best, and at their worst. "You didn't have to do any of this... but you did. I.... thank you. Do you remember when I told you before, that I'd rather choose the Chrom right in front of me instead of the Emblem I once knew?" Right, that silly conversation under the stars. It makes her chuckle at the memory, never once imagining that it would've brought them to a moment like this. And that thought is what encourages her to carefully move his hand away from her face before leaning in, her lips gently pressed against his cheek. It lasts for only a second before Alear rights herself, the small smile that comes being truly genuine as her hands squeeze his. "I did say that being able to touch you was a bonus, didn't I?" Spoken in a teasing tone, along with a huff that almost sounds like a laugh. She's thankful for the darker atmosphere, because there's no doubt in her mind that her cheeks are pink. "And... I'll make that same decision every time. I'll always choose this Chrom." There's one last lily that she has, funny enough. It's a little worse for wear, tucked into the fabric of her dress-- but it's offered to him regardless. "Well, it's not that pretty... but it's a promise that I'll find a better one when I replace my bouquet?" @soulsaligned

[soulsaligned]

   First, he is met with relief.

   Alear is in better spirits, evidenced by her final sniffle; it wasn’t indicative of a greater mood overall, but it meant that she was, for all intents and purposes, better now than she had been moments prior. That’s really all he wanted in the moment. 

   But then he is met with surprise, and even more so embarrassment.

   Chrom is caught unawares as lips suddenly press against his cheek, and as they do he feels an eternity pass in a second. It is an effervescent gesture that etches itself into Chrom’s brain forevermore. And in that moment he feels a heat flush in his face, for everything sinks in. It is a shock, a leap into the waters on a winter's day, yet it is comforting like a campfire’s flame that very same wintery night. It’s something Chrom would rather die before forgetting, regardless of how small the gesture may seem. 

   And when that eternity finally passes, he blinks twice. A clearing of the throat, a gaze that drops to the ground. He’s sure that he’s smiling involuntarily, but prays in Naga’s name that the darkness conceals it. “I-I suppose I can see why that would be a bonus, huh…” He mentally kicks himself for the silly reply, unable to think of something far better to say. But how could he? Instead, he whispers, barely audible, “I’m glad you chose me, too.”

   A lily is offered, one that’s ruined beyond recognition. Yet in his eyes it was something to be cherished. In fact, Chrom wordlessly takes the lily, pinning it to his shirt. “Don’t. I think it’s perfect as is. Thank you, Alear.” And, before he could psyche himself out of it, Chrom takes a deep breath…

   And returns his confidant’s kiss. On the cheek, similarly as she had to him. He may linger on a second or so longer, but he pulls away before it becomes something that can’t be taken back. Or perhaps it already couldn’t be? Standing up, Chrom holds out a hand. “Let’s get you a new bouquet then? And don’t worry about my jacket. I would be happier if you kept it for the night.”

end!

[laslow]

[ SWEET BUN TRIO ] - Three delicious, bite-sized buns from Faerghus. The first bun is filled with sweet cream and topped with icing and a candied cherry. The second is a sweet roll filled with almonds, pecans, and dried cranberries and glazed with honey. The third is a bun sliced in half, filled with almond paste and whipped cream, dusted with powdered sugar on top.

Laslow needs a snack. Definitely more water, if the slight pounding at his temples is anything to go by.

He'd had enough champagne to feel pleasantly buzzed, the world just a little fuzzy around the edges, and he's been dancing long enough to earn a burn in his calves.

Blinking, he stares at the table, waiting for all the treats spread along it to come back into focus. Water. Right. He's here for water, first and foremost. There's a pitcher near his left hand; his movements are a little uncoordinated, a far cry from his usual grace. But he manages well enough, only spilling a few droplets onto the tablecloth below as he pours a glass.

The first sip calms some of the ache. Soothes the scratchy feeling at the back of his throat. Laslow feels a little less off balance, at least, some of the fuzziness fading from his vision.

Movement catches in his periphery moments before a plate of sweet buns enters his line of sight. He follows the arm holding them and nearly blames the alcohol for making him see things. How did he not know Chrom is at the Academy?

"Milord Chrom!" Laslow chirps, belated, a wide grin splitting his face. "How're you? How's Ylisse?" His gaze drifts down to one of the sweet buns. "Mind if I steal one?"

[soulsaligned]

   A drink of water to pair with the sweet buns, that was all that Chrom sought in the moment; the last thing he expects is to have something akin to a reunion, let alone one he hadn’t expected given recent conversation. “Inigo???” His voice carries far more shock than he expected, and a myriad of emotions alongside it. Excitement? Happiness to see an old friend? Perhaps confusion on where he could’ve gone?

   And confusion after assuming that he hadn’t been here to begin with?

   “As I live and breathe… I never thought I’d see you again!” Something about the young man before Chrom now still felt like the same Inigo that traveled backwards in time; a capable combatant, though far more interested in chasing skirts than one should reasonably be. Yet there was still something… new when looking at him. As though Chrom is able to find something resembling a deepened maturity in his (slightly drunken) gaze. Chrom feels a pride tugging at him in that moment.

   “Ylisse is well, I’ve… done my best to maintain it as Exalt, though my responsibilities here have definitely made it a little more difficult.” He laughs, “You disappeared! You, Owain and Severa all, frankly I was worried, though I assumed you all had your reasons… It’s really good to see that you’re okay…” It takes a lot in that moment for Chrom to not pull Inigo into a hug. But he already looked out of sorts; such a sudden action would surely cause him needless vertigo.

   “But enough about that. Yes, yes, take one of the sweet buns, tell me how things have been! We must catch up, Inigo, it’s been far too long.”

[licehn]

@soulsaligned sent:

[ CORN ] - A new strain of corn has been bred in Bergliez with a curious trait—it pops when exposed to heat, becoming light and fluffy! Help yourself to a bag; it's a little bland on its own, but you get the feeling you could find something to spice it up.

"Joachim! Greetings! Would you like to share some of this popped corn? It's rather tasty for how simple it is..."

Smiling, Chrom gestures to his popped corn, and then to his bouquet. "I'll also throw in a free flower for your troubles as well." ( ethereal ball — first half. )

    “Chrom!” Joachim greets in return, curiosity sparked at the term the man uses. 'Popped' corn? The wolf looks to the food item in question, snug securely in a bag in Chrom's possession, but it's far from any corn he's ever seen before.

“Troubles? I can't imagine what troubles I'm having if you're saying it's tasty... But I won't say no to a flower.” Joachim laughs it off. Of course, a part of him is aware this is likely mostly just a weak pretense.

But he hopes when he takes one of the hyacinths from his bouquet and exchanges it with one of Chrom's, it's clear he needed no pretenses at all. “A flower for you too. It feels more joyous when we both give and take, doesn't it?

“Now, let's see what this popped corn is all about... This really IS corn? You're sure?”

It's the oddest shaped corn he's ever seen if so!

[soulsaligned]

   Chrom laughs as Joachim inspects the popped corn. Chrom had a similar reaction; after all this snack seemed to be quite far removed from any sort of corn he was personally familiar with. It was incredible, to say the least. 

   “Mhm!” He answers, scooping a few for himself. He takes the moment to chew, before properly speaking again. “I was watching a few people pop them earlier; they were using flame to cause the little corns to inflate like this. I even saw a few people covering them in what I could only assume was some sort of boiled sugar? Innovative stuff, I’d give them a try if I had a stronger sweet tooth.”

   Chrom smiles; despite the hiccups throughout the night so far, it was clear that there was still a jovial atmosphere to be had. Many friends, old and new, meeting all at once… it was nice. “Many thanks for the flower! I hope that things have been well for you in the time passed… and that you haven't found yourself stuck in any more mazes.” 

[misericordel]

i hired your crush's little sister to stare at you — chrom & veyle

toaball2026 – continue from here

[misericordel]

veyle blinks, turning to look back at him when he asks why she thinks her sister's feelings with him are mutual.

"cause." veyle starts then smiles again. "you're really nice mister chrom. you haven't looked at me weird at all, even though i kinda blundered my first greeting." he probably won't get what she really means, but it doesn't matter. "i can tell you have a good heart! and my sister loves people with good hearts. i know that you're on her radar!"

what was that one saying humans liked to use? it takes her a second to remember before her smile widens into a grin and she places her hand on her chest confidently. "if you can't believe in yourself, you should believe in me who believes in you!"

[soulsaligned]

   He nods along, though there was something odd in hearing Veyle specify the way in which he looked at her. Why would he look at anyone weird, for such prejudice was unfair? Regardless of this meeting being… far from ideal, it wasn’t like it was done with bad intentions at heart. 

   “Well… thank you for the vote of confidence, though I don’t get why you’d have expected me to look at you ‘weird’. You were looking out for your sister, and frankly I think mine would approach Alear with far less tact than you approached me.” In fact, the thought of Lissa’s approach sent shudders down Chrom’s spine; she would likely regale embarrassing stories of the two while growing up, and Chrom could not fathom the embarrassment from that.

   Then Veyle says an odd line. Something about believing in the her that believes in him. It was new, and rather innovative, likely something native to Elyos and original to Ylisse. He would have to adopt that in the future, for it was clear that such a saying had results; Chrom felt undeniably more fired up, eager to confess- though that would have to happen later still. 

   “Okay, okay.” He nods, psyching himself up. “I believe I can do it. When we next meet, I will. We did just come back inside not too long ago, after all. Thank you for the encouragement. I… I suppose I really needed that.”

[soulsaligned]

i got my ass beat bruh i’m not posting that shit.

ethereal ball '26 | chrom comforts alear post punch bowl tm | cont from here :)

[aliberation]

Alear knows well enough that she's dense in some ways, naive in others-- that sometimes, she's out of her element, even with all of the hopes and desires carried on her shoulders. She likes to think that despite her meager years as a proper Divine Dragon, she's come to be better about knowing when someone is lying, or when someone is just hollow in their words. Her friends have always been right that she needs to be less trusting and more cautious. But the sincerity in Chrom's voice is nearly something she can physically feel, and she finally lifts her head to look over at him. This isn't the first time she's failed, and it won't be the last; the memories of Destinea Cathedral will always sit in the back of her mind as one of her worst defeats, overzealous decisions nearly costing them the war. Alear and everyone else had come back from it, though... even with how severe of a blow it had been. She doesn't expect his arms to wrap around her, but the second they do, she can feel herself deflate and lean into him. There's no stopping the sniffle that comes as she clings to him, face pressed into the soft fabric of his shirt at the crook of his neck. Chrom is warm, even when everything else around her is frigid and icy to to the touch-- he's warm, even when it feels like there were so many cold stares that were fixated on the disaster she'd created. Her voice wavers, her breath hitches, and she sniffs again as she tries to speak muffled words into his shirt. It's not very easy, especially as she sidles closer. "I-- I trust you, Chrom. I do. I really, really do.... and I--" A hiccup breaks her sentence, and she feels like a damned fool over all of this. After that mock battle, despite her poor performance, he'd painstakingly cleaned every little scrape she had. Gently, thoroughly, concern always written into his eyes as he'd periodically glanced up at her. Even now, the wounds that sting and sear on her heart are carefully cradled in his hands-- and she briefly thinks that she's glad it's him putting the jagged edges back together again. "... Thank you. I'm sorry. Thank you." I'll do better, I swear.

@soulsaligned

[soulsaligned]

   His hug tightens, gently, though firm; it was as if Chrom wished to demonstrate that he wouldn’t let go without needing to utter it. It felt weird; a lot of Chrom’s relationship was marred with words that sang one another’s praise. Many instances in which one was glad to have met the other, where their bond was cherished on both ends.

   And yet in a moment so intimate, where such reassurance would otherwise be necessary, there was none. Perhaps, Chrom thinks, it is second nature now? Alear puts it best; her trust, and her whole self, something so fragile, yet beautiful lies resting within Chrom’s arms. A man so notably likely to shatter everything physically was his most careful in handling things metaphysically. It was ironic. 

   It was everything needed in the moment. 

   Softly, he chides her, “stop that. You don’t need to apologize…” ‘you never do,’ remains unspoken, though as he trails off it hangs in the air. He allows her to cry; she needs it, tears are the first building blocks necessary for the bridge of healing, and Chrom understood that, even if he was a man who seldom found himself succumbing to sobs. 

   But after a moment, he shifts Alear ever slightly, breaking from their hug, though one hand holds her shoulder instead, whilst the other goes through his pockets. “I believe I have… there,” he fishes out a handkerchief. His movements are steadied now, one hand taking to press against Alear’s cheek while the other carefully wipes away the tears. 

“We don’t have to return soon, only when you’re ready. I hope that any makeup you’re wearing doesn’t wash away, though…” ‘because it is truly beautiful.’ 

@aliberation