In Naga's Name, Amen

Closed Libra (FE-13) RP Blog [affliated with FE-RP]

[dutifulrider-blog]

Super Announcement Time!

so, as i’m sure many of you have noticed. i haven’t really, been around lately.

this is entirely due to my job’s insane hours, and the subsequent lack of free time.

however, despite my best efforts, i’ve really had trouble having fun recently, and balancing two characters i’d picked up back when i had easily quadruple the free time. in addition to this, my headspace hasn’t really been conducive to “fun” anyhow

so, in an attempt to remedy this, I will be dropping Vanessa and Libra, and picking up someone new.

in fact, i’ll probably pick them up by the end of the week. 

i have had, a really great time, playing these characters with you all, and maybe in the future i can pick them back up. but it’s time for a change, i think.

i hope we can all have fun together on my new blog in the near future <3

[incursionparagon]

Pleasant Picnic|| Cordelia and Libra

[stainedglassmonk]

incursionparagon:

The sound of a sharp breath draws Cordelia’s eyes to Libra instantly, and she can see all the little ways that guilt settles itself into his features. Before she can even think, she finds herself shaking her head; something about the monk just draws out her gentler side, and she thinks it might just be telling of what kind of person he is. 

“Don’t be,” she reassures him. “I was the one who assumed you needed the paint, after all.” 

The pegasus knight is silent for a moment after that. Her words sound so… dry, somehow, and even more so when she remembers who she is talking to. From their few interactions thus far, she has sensed a sort of… tenderness, perhaps? in Libra’s demeanor, and it feels almost criminal to leave him with words that are so purely factual. She adds, more quietly, then: “Besides… It’s nice, spending time with you.” 

Feeling slightly silly, Libra nods. Acquiescence. As she says, it...must be. Nice, to spend time with him? She is too kind to him. So he verbalizes, “Oh, okay.” A lame response to her kind words, as he busies himself with tidying the paints under his hand. Kind colors, the ones Cordelia had pointed out to him, and others. All good.

He grabs one, one of the greens Cordelia had said, and checks over his items. He doesn’t seem to be missing anything else. “If, you’re ready,” he says haltingly, “I’ll pay for these and we can go see about your basket?”

[stainedglassmonk]

Oh How The Tables Have Tabled | Libra & Setsuna

[dreamyarcher]

“Serena?” Setsuna ducked out of the way as the man began to swing violently. He really wasn’t good at traps, was he? She supposed he just didn’t have the same amount of practice as she did. That was fair. Not everyone could be as gifted at it as she was.

“Oh, no…she lives in Nohr, I believe.” Unless he was talking about someone other than the Nohrian retainer.

Setsuna looked over the trap to see what kind it was. Not a particularly good one, she concluded. Shame, he deserved a good experience.

“My name is Setsuna.” She reminded him. “I know my singing was great, but I didn’t think it was good enough to make you forget my name.”

The thought of her singing reminded her that she was supposed to be on some kind of watch duty. She supposed it would be bad if she was gone too long. But then again, she was watching this stranger now, right? That had to count for some kind of watching duty. So she was doing her job! Nice.

[stainedglassmonk]

“I’m sorry,” Libra says sincerely, hanging limply. His ankle hurts, his heart hurts. “It truly was, though.” Libra says, when he speaks again after a moment. “Your singing.” He waits, to see if he continues spinning, and when he does, he sighs again.

He’ll have to ask.

“If it’s not a bother, would you mind uh, letting me down.” The way he speaks, he doesn’t know if he holds hope that she’ll acquiesce or not, he just knows he’s tired, body and soul, and it is no help to be hanging upside down like this. 

[stainedglassmonk]

Why are your knees so scabby.... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Flatly, Libra shrugs. “Because I spend so many hours on my knees hoping and praying my brothers will forgive my sins? Because I speak to them often, when I go to the churches. I say I am praying, but...”

It’s not really a lie. He prays to his brothers for strength, and forgiveness. Sometimes Libra speaks of his day, feeling so achingly alone. He also thinks uncharitable things about Naga, while he kneels on the prayer rail.

He spends a lot of time on his knees, and he’s not careful about where and how he kneels. If it’s uncomfortable, if it hurts. It’s what he deserves, isn’t it? For prolonging the lie with this habit?

[stainedglassmonk]

[stainedglassmonk]

Headache Over Easy | Libra & Robyn

[stainedglassmonk]

flightlessfell:

She had always been too inept with the people she had cared for, she knew. Being too used to conducting herself sharply, she felt at loss: with Libra’s apology, she shook her head, reaching over to hook her fingers into the fabric of his sleeve gently.

Libra was a dear friend. There was a guilt, in not knowing whether to hold him or to treat him like glass. So she settled for the middle ground, averting her eyes. (If he were smiling, then she would fail to believe it- and she was frightened to be lied to). She had spent far too long in the comfort of Libra’s company. It was only proper to try and return the favor. Her voice rounds out, to something softer.

“… You’re a capable fighter… a wonderful confidant, an invaluable friend-… I…” She paused, tugging at the hem of her sleeve. “I regard you highly, Libra, though I’m unsure how much that’s worth. I care for you deeply. Please don’t apologize, unless you feel that you must.”  

“It’s necessary.” Libra says firmly. His voice is...pained, though he doesn’t slip again, he doesn’t cry, or laugh. “I have much to apologize for.” For lying, for- Oh, Robyn...There is so much he regrets. So much he would undo if he were able.

He might tell her, if she asked, but his shame...might kill the words before they leave his throat. He’s...now matter her conclusions, they’re not truly made - he’d let her think, and now every compliment stung even as it was kindly meant. There’s so little...

Ugh, his head hurts.

[cursedbybirth]

“Blood? Are you bleeding?”

Robin had noticed the blood on their coat only a few minutes before Libra had pointed it out. It was a rather occassion where they pair of them were fighting together. Both had started out with different partners, but the way things went that had changed. 

“I’m alright. It’s not as bad as it looks.” Robin tried saying this in a believeable manner, but their grunt of pain when speaking and trying to move said otherwise. Still Robin didn’t want Libra to worry. “I can manage to the end of the fight. A Risen managed to get me earlier. I didn’t know at the time it went deep. I’ll… I’ll be fine. We should finish this.”

[stainedglassmonk]

cursedbybirth:

Robin isn’t too concerned about if the stave doesn’t heal them for much health. Anything at the moment would be good. Besides they trust in Libra’s abilities to get something worthwhile from the heal. Just enough to continue on. That was all that they needed truly. So Robin moved closer to Libra, giving him an encouraging smile. 

“Just take the time you need. You don’t need to rush right now.” They were relatively safe for the time being. Robin would prefer that Libra just focus on healing more than any prospect danger or urgency.

The familiar warmth of healing magic washes over them. Not as strongly as if someone like Lissa was performing magic or anything, but it is there regardless. They can feel their wounds start mending, although it’s not enough to fully heal them. It’s fine. Robin isn’t in as much pain and the small headache growing starts to already ebb away. “I think that’s enough.”

(“Channel the energy, the magic, Calum’s boy, a cycle, a circle. Back to yourself, that’s right, and again. Again, Calum’s boy, healing can be soothing to both parties, if it hurts you’re recycling the energy wrong. Again, boy, once more, you’re doing well. Almost right. One more time-”) Enough. Libra startles, fingers numb from gripping the stave so hard.

It was done? Feeling a little like rubber, but his own ankle a little sturdier, Libra nodded and readied to move. “Back to finding a real healer, right?” Libra asked, unmindful of his wording. A pause, “You’re sure that’s enough?”

[deadlycontractor-blog]

Hawthorn— "Despite your answer, I shall strive to win your love.”

Beruka eyed the blossoms warily.  “I have seen these used both to cure and cause illness.  Which do you intend?”

[stainedglassmonk]

deadlycontractor:

“How is it different?”

Nothing should have distinguished her parents from any other corpse. Did blood make them family? And her foster father, who gave her no more love than the ones who abandoned her–was he family because she grew up under his roof?

“I…find it hard to accept things ‘just happening.’ There has to be a backup plan to account for everything.” 

Feeling exhausted, Libra sighed. “There aren’t plans for everything. There can’t be.” Even when he wanted to blame himself the most, he knows there was no way he could have planned for being...for being the last. Or for his inability to correct assumptions. How could he have planned for that? 

How could anyone have planned for that?

“Lots of things in life are hard,” Libra says finally, an edge to his voice in his exhausted frustration. “You cannot plan for all of them, and this is one reason why people turn to the divine.” It would have been satisfying, here, to throw up his hands and snarl, but inappropriate.

He feels bad about losing his grasp on his temper, but he honestly hadn’t expected the emotional turmoil nor the interrogation.

[dreamyarcher]

"Setsuna, here." Libra said, moving in close enough he almost, almost carelessly brushed up against her. Slowly, he tucked a flower behind her ear. "You look beautiful."

Setsuna looked up at the sound of his voice. He was closer than she expected and she paused her answer, watching him curiously. She did her best not to lean into him too much, tilting her head as she watched him reach for her.

She blinked as she felt something slide into place and reached up once his hand was cleared. Her fingers gently ran against the petals and she smiled, letting out a quiet laugh.

“I…thank you.” She answered, eyes dropping bashfully. He was beautiful. She was being unfair not reciprocating that. “I don’t have a beautiful flower to give you…” she hesitated a moment, considering her words before her gaze flicked back to him. “…can I give you me as a makeup flower?” She mumbled.

[stainedglassmonk]

dreamyarcher:

stainedglassmonk:

Oh.

Feeling warm, he exercises his still giddily newfound comfort with brief contact (with Setsuna at least), to wrap his fingers around the hand gripping his sleeve. 

“Of course I accept, Setsuna.” 

Flowers forgotten, he squeezes her hand.

Setsuna’s face split into a wide grin as she lifted her head once more. “Oh…okay! Good!” The hand on her face fell away. He actually wanted her.

She let go of his sleeve and moved her hand until she managed to link her fingers with his. “I’m glad…I’m really glad.” She brought their hands over towards her and pressed her lips against their linked fingers.

Laughing softly, he echoes her. “Good,” and rubs his thumb across the back of her knuckles. Her kiss tingles along his skin, and he wants to never pull away. He does though (reluctantly), and slides the flower merchant the coin required.

It was so nice to spend time with Setsuna.

[dreamyarcher]

"Setsuna, here." Libra said, moving in close enough he almost, almost carelessly brushed up against her. Slowly, he tucked a flower behind her ear. "You look beautiful."

Setsuna looked up at the sound of his voice. He was closer than she expected and she paused her answer, watching him curiously. She did her best not to lean into him too much, tilting her head as she watched him reach for her.

She blinked as she felt something slide into place and reached up once his hand was cleared. Her fingers gently ran against the petals and she smiled, letting out a quiet laugh.

“I…thank you.” She answered, eyes dropping bashfully. He was beautiful. She was being unfair not reciprocating that. “I don’t have a beautiful flower to give you…” she hesitated a moment, considering her words before her gaze flicked back to him. “…can I give you me as a makeup flower?” She mumbled.

[dreamyarcher]

stainedglassmonk:

He ducks his head, embarrassed a little, “Well, that’s the idea. Enough flowers to make the trade worth it? Though It might not…it’s not going to be enough, Setsuna, there aren’t enough flowers in the world.” 

A garden could be nice though, if he didn’t have such a hard time keeping plants alive. He’d blame the desert and his childhood, but he’d spent more time in Ylisse’s plains than he’d ever had in Plegia’s sands.

He was trying to kill her. All this was just an elaborate murder attempt because she felt like she was burning and he was so beautiful and perfect it was unfair, how was she supposed to be able to respond to something like that? “That…that might be too many flowers.” She said sheepishly. “Not enough for the rest of the world if you take them all…”

With her head down again, she fumbled a moment before reaching with her free hand and taking a hold of his sleeve, careful. “I don’t…I don’t mind if it’s not equal…I like the trade as is…which you still…haven’t accepted.” She trailed off at the end, eyes glued to her shoes and hand glued over her face.

[stainedglassmonk]

Oh.

Feeling warm, he exercises his still giddily newfound comfort with brief contact (with Setsuna at least), to wrap his fingers around the hand gripping his sleeve. 

“Of course I accept, Setsuna.” 

Flowers forgotten, he squeezes her hand.

[dreamyarcher]

"Setsuna, here." Libra said, moving in close enough he almost, almost carelessly brushed up against her. Slowly, he tucked a flower behind her ear. "You look beautiful."

Setsuna looked up at the sound of his voice. He was closer than she expected and she paused her answer, watching him curiously. She did her best not to lean into him too much, tilting her head as she watched him reach for her.

She blinked as she felt something slide into place and reached up once his hand was cleared. Her fingers gently ran against the petals and she smiled, letting out a quiet laugh.

“I…thank you.” She answered, eyes dropping bashfully. He was beautiful. She was being unfair not reciprocating that. “I don’t have a beautiful flower to give you…” she hesitated a moment, considering her words before her gaze flicked back to him. “…can I give you me as a makeup flower?” She mumbled.

[stainedglassmonk]

Her laugh was a bright note that sent the corners of his mouth up into a genuine smile. He loved it when she laughed. “Flowers aren’t nearly as valuable as you, Setsuna,” he says, but it’s not a ‘no’. 

He pushes his hair out of his face (and his bangs fall right back where they were the second his hand falls), and his gaze lingers a moment on her face before it pulls up slightly to the flower in her hair. “I’ll need more flowers.” 

[dreamyarcher]

“Oh.” Setsuna was sure now that her face was flushed. She let out another, flustered laugh, moving her hand from the flower to her face. It was warm here. That was weird. It’s been cold out so long why was it suddenly so warm. “…If you get more enough flowers, they’ll eventually value out with me.”

He didn’t say no, but he didn’t say yes either, and now Setsuna was faltering. Thankfully, the fondness he had clearly on his face made it hard to misconstrue his answer too badly. “You’re starting a garden? Didn’t take you for the type…” Why else would he need that many flowers?

[stainedglassmonk]

He ducks his head, embarrassed a little, “Well, that’s the idea. Enough flowers to make the trade worth it? Though It might not...it’s not going to be enough, Setsuna, there aren’t enough flowers in the world.” 

A garden could be nice though, if he didn’t have such a hard time keeping plants alive. He’d blame the desert and his childhood, but he’d spent more time in Ylisse’s plains than he’d ever had in Plegia’s sands.

[dreamyarcher]

"Setsuna, here." Libra said, moving in close enough he almost, almost carelessly brushed up against her. Slowly, he tucked a flower behind her ear. "You look beautiful."

Setsuna looked up at the sound of his voice. He was closer than she expected and she paused her answer, watching him curiously. She did her best not to lean into him too much, tilting her head as she watched him reach for her.

She blinked as she felt something slide into place and reached up once his hand was cleared. Her fingers gently ran against the petals and she smiled, letting out a quiet laugh.

“I…thank you.” She answered, eyes dropping bashfully. He was beautiful. She was being unfair not reciprocating that. “I don’t have a beautiful flower to give you…” she hesitated a moment, considering her words before her gaze flicked back to him. “…can I give you me as a makeup flower?” She mumbled.

[stainedglassmonk]

Her laugh was a bright note that sent the corners of his mouth up into a genuine smile. He loved it when she laughed. “Flowers aren’t nearly as valuable as you, Setsuna,” he says, but it’s not a ‘no’. 

He pushes his hair out of his face (and his bangs fall right back where they were the second his hand falls), and his gaze lingers a moment on her face before it pulls up slightly to the flower in her hair. “I’ll need more flowers.” 

[rpmememaker]

Put 'Confess!' plus an accusation about my muse in my ask, and my muse will confess whether it's true or not!

Here’s some examples to start you off-

Confess! Are you turned on by [insert kink here]?

Confess! Do you like [insert name here]?

Confess! Is it true that you once [insert odd/silly activity here]?

Confess! Are you scared of [insert fear here]?

Confess! Did you cry during [insert movie here]

Or think of your own! Be as cunning as you like…

[stainedglassmonk]

heartofchonsin:

“Ah, I might yet understand,” Say’ri said, “I find art a point of peace… I do not know if you might believe this admission, but as a child I was quite the rapscallion.” 

She rose from her seat, if only to stave off her sleepiness, and produced the book again from behind the metal curve of the band at her waist. Opening it at a familiar page, she glanced at it and then folded it to close.

“I like that we have this habit in kind,” she said, “If you do not think it too bold of me to say.”

Peace...he understood that well. It had taken a while, an embarrassing while, to learn what Calum had been trying to teach, while he snapped graphite and charcoal and wrestled with paints (growing more and more frustrated when he failed in progressively messier disasters), but the end result...He’d kept drawing, and painting, and - it had been a lesson he’d never forgotten.

Eyes following her, Libra wondered if he should perhaps leave. If he was an agitation, keeping her awake...He worried. (A rapscallion....a.....scallion? Unsure of the word, Libra pretended he’d understood. It sounded...not good, though, so he was loathe to believe it.)

Too bold? He smiled, taking a moment to scribble some terrible shape on his sleeve. “I don’t think it is, too bold that is.” It was nice, actually. To have a connection like that...it made him feel good. Like he wasn’t quite so alone, in his corner of the world. 

“Do you draw, then, Say’ri?”

[stainedglassmonk]

🎬

Libra kicked his shoes off into the closet before falling over the armrest of his ratty couch, getting comfortable even as Setsuna perused his meagre selection of rented movies. “I wasn’t sure what to get, so I got a little of everything,” he admits.

Gosh he was tired. But it was worth it, to hang out with one of the more tolerable archery club members. (He frowned at the thought, but even to himself he couldn’t hold the pretense that Setsuna isn’t his friend. Well, not very well, at least.)

Face pressed to the cushion and legs stretched over air, Libra has an excellent view of his poorly maintained apartment floor. “Sorry for the mess, Dear sheds a lot…” The puppy in question was tuckered out and sleeping on one of Libra’s sweaters back in the bedroom. 

[stainedglassmonk]

dreamyarcher:

“Alive and kicking.” She mumbled in agreement. Whoever the killer was in this movie, they seemed to enjoy toying with victims as long as he could. If she was honest, the movie was starting to unnerve her somewhat. It wasn’t necessarily unnerving in the way certain horror movies are, but something about it was starting to get to her. How anyone could stand this much killing on a day to day basis…

She felt Libra’s head get closer to her leg and looked down at him (thankfully, missing the next victim to get grabbed). Libra seemed to be falling asleep next to her. With a snort, she stopped playing with his hair and gave a light tug. “Falling asleep on me, Grandpa?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to continue this film on her own.

“No...” Libra denied, eyes sliding closed until the Setsuna pulled his hair gently. That woke him up, an electric shock down his spine in a shivery way. “Well, maybe.” He admitted, rubbing at one eye. 

Tiredly, he made small vocalizations as he made a show of turning back to the t.v. (C’mon, Libra, don’t do this....stay awake.) “Sorry, Setsuna...”

[stainedglassmonk]

dreamyarcher:

She won’t lie and say it’s not the smallest bit disappointing. She understands though that it’s not something he can control. She just wishes there was something she could possibly do to make things easier for him. But there isn’t, at least not now, and as his hands slide of her person (cold), she pushes herself up and off his lap (colder) to give him the space that he needs. 

She grimaces inwardly as she gets her footing. Ugh. She hasn’t done anything like this fully clothed in a while, she forgot how…uncomfortable, the aftermath felt. Though she supposed he was hardly all that better off.

He’s offering a next time though, and she’s immediately brightening. The smile on her face must look goofy with how wide it feels. “I’d like that.” She replies. The fact that he wants her again…Wants to try with her again, she feels so warm inside, different this time, and she’s struck by the urge to kiss him again, beautiful darling that he is.

Leaving things like this just doesn’t feel right. Him still sitting and her just wandering on home…it made the memory feel cheap and none of this deserved any tarnishing. She wants to offer a hand to help him stand, but no, that falls right back into the thing causing the entire dilemma. Does she stay with him? He probably wants to deal with it alone, but she doesn’t want to leave him to it. What if he panics so much he passes out and then he’s stuck here by himself, attracting vultures who fly and wait until they can start eating and-

“You’ll be okay?” She asks instead, chasing away thoughts of large, hungry birds.

Her smile set his heart aflutter, a nice feeling, a good feeling. She’d like that. She’d like that! He gets to his own feet, closes his eyes against the conflicting feelings of friction (good) and gross when he moves, and returns the smile softly. He’s...he’s glad. 

“Yeah,” he says, even though he knows it will probably be a lie soon enough. “I’ll be okay. Can I...” Walk her to her Gate? Kiss goodbye? Hug? Something. Probably not anything else physical.

“Walk you home?” 

He’ll put off cleaning himself up until he gets home. Where he can...let himself think about what he’d done. In all the ways that he’s sure that implies.

[stainedglassmonk]

half-draconic-bard:

Nils coughed weakly, trying not to spread too much more frost and snow around. He wasn’t sure how people would react to seeing a small boy spewing ice with every sneeze. While Libra reacted alright, he didn’t know about anyone else.

“Colds are awful, huh?” He asked, suddenly. “I don’t know how humans deal with them….” With warm food and stuff, apparently, but he didn’t really mean it that way.

Libra paused, turning back to Nils feeling incredibly sympathetic. Being sick was absolutely no fun at all. “They can be,” he agreed, “and for some people often are.” Still, seeing the snow and frost come from the kid’s mouth with every wheeze and cough was concerning.

“Let’s go in here, they might have something cold we can try.”