MAIDEN'S SPINE @symhildr - Tumblr Blog

a few small notes on portrayal & characterization:

ONE. forrest is being written as gender-fluid and therefore referring to himself with masculine and feminine terms. trying to focus on gender / sexuality headcanons and link them to canon is difficult at times since canon doesn’t hold any importance to those but forrest, on this blog, will be written with the fear of being judged since in his supports with corrin, he’s shown to be upset by a shopkeeper finding out he’s a male / laughing at him for it. this and a few other moments are relevant to the cause of his gender identity. you may refer to him with ( he / him and she / her ) during interactions.

TWO. he and leo are not on good terms. this has been spoken to with sam and while they are on the path of becoming comfortable with each other, he does not trust nor forgive leo for his past judgment on his preferences. this being said, he still thinks of leo as his father. it’s just that leo is someone who needs to seriously work on his view and feelings for others, since forrest doesn’t agree with him or his morals.

THREE. over the course of the war and the year that followed, forrest has become slightly judgmental at those who don’t take care of themselves. while this will not show as openly as it will in his thoughts, it’s a difference to him canon since he isn’t as judgmental then.

FOUR. canonly, he has a slight flirtatious hint in his voice when speaking to friends; this has grown to extend to strangers. he is still respectful and understands when to quit pushing forward with these advances but he sees it as harmless fun and likes to engage in slight flirting with others. the length of these conversations last depending on the friendship between the two.

FIVE. forrest will not introduce himself as the “prince of nohr” as often as one should due to his dislike for being a royal of nohr, or royalty period. he has conflicts with being born in / from nohr and usually won’t refer to it in an introduction unless it is being spoken of.

SIX. as corrin’s son, he is a dragon alongside kana, though it was kana who transformed first and thus his parents immediately knew to give forrest his dragonstone before he turned as well. this means that forrest has barely transformed and is extremely clumsy in his dragon form. he keeps his dragonstone on him at all times but knows little about it since communication with parents is low, haha.

BLACKLIST TAG. please blacklist “cw leo / corrin” if mentions of the relationship disturb / discomfort you.

#[ tag drop; ]#〳♡ « you are a keeper of details and lace; every sins’ caretaker and the weaver of their truths » ( FORREST. )#〳◌ ⁀ « coordinated praise » ( INBOX. )#〳◌ ⁀ « laced truth » ( PROMPTS. )#〳◌ ⁀ « my persephone » ( HEADCANONS. )#〳◌ ⁀ « deemed sinful » ( DRABBLES. )#〳◌ ⁀ « sunlight’s frills » ( IC. )#〳◌ ⁀ « custom returned » ( OOC. )#〳◌ ⁀ « an embroidered knife’s sheath » ( WRITING. )

[ braid ] for your muse to braid mine’s hair

nonverbal prompts !

SUNLIGHT IS GENEROUS as it peeks past the curtains of the window, where forrest has positioned his vanity and mirror slight in front of its glass. a blessing it is, he thinks now. perfect sight of how sunlight flourishes off of the glow that radiates from mitama. not just her skin, but her hair too.

the dark strands of rouge pink that split and flow to accommodate forrest’s fingers as he threads them in gentle combing motions. any knots had, thankfully, been brushed out beforehand. he had taken to quick work when mitama first sat down on the vanity chair, aware that she would likely fall asleep if he took too long. it had not mattered for the length of process, since she always found a way to be plucked from reality and sink into the plush of slumber.

one could say that he envied her ability to do so. the ease of finding rest in every corner and shade of her environment. he can guess that, most likely, it was not one of comfort. that she did not go looking for areas to rest because she felt comfortable there; however, there are reasons and evidence to deny the claim.

forrest continues his idle work of combing through mitama’s hair with his fingers, his gaze stuck on her reflection. it almost pulls a gasp from his throat when mitama’s eyes open to immediately catch his gaze. she does not smile but the tilt of her head suggests a pleasant echo of a voice, so forrest smiles at her. there is a comment that falls from mitama’s lips, one of question and... braids. braids? forrest glances down at his fingers and his eyebrows arch in surprise at the realization that his fingers have been weaving locks of mitama’s hair into braids. not too big, but definitely not on the smaller size of length.

nohrian prince laughs silently, “ i can take them out before you leave, if you want me to. ” they continue to twist and turn locks of hair into braids as they speak. mitama makes no move or noise to stop or encourage them, so forrest hums in agreement to the silence. “ would you like a pillow? i have a few small ones that you can slip in between you and the chair. ”

carefully and only after mitama makes a compliant noise at the touch of their fingers against her chin, forrest moves her head to a slight tilt, pulling the braid over her shoulder and measuring how far it reaches down. not a lot but still a reasonable growth from the last time they had seen her.

“ have you tried any other hairstyles during your stay in fódlan? ” forrest asks, quite amused at the thought of mitama in different hairstyles... maybe ponytails or curls. had she worn her hair out of the ribbons and clasps of gold? or braids, even. the images in their head is enough to make them giggle. mitama would look great in anything, no doubt, but he supposes that some styles look best...

#〳◌ ⁀ « coordinated praise » ( INBOX. )#〳♡ « support tag » ( MITAMA. )#verseandrhyme

[ guard ] for your muse to step between my muse and danger

nonverbal prompts !

VIOLENCE IS NEVER the option he favors; otherwise, what make him different from the nohrian stereotype? what would bring forth the decency that he had that many others did not? why support the catalyst of chaos when he has already suffered enough through a war that was not his to fight?

forrest does not entertain the threat of violence but when the merchant’s son — too eager, too amused — swings his fist toward him, he has the instinct to ignore adrenaline and almost wish for peace. the strike to his cheek erases the thought immediately. threads of rationality tempt him to pull back but the merchant’s voice is the needle that keeps the string from snapping. weaving instinct with sanity and attempting to pull at the son’s arm to get him to release forrest’s embroidered collar. nohrian prince keeps his arms to his side, not submissive but aware of the consequences that would befall any other reaction. son finds it enough to let a laugh crawl from his throat.

“ that was my ma’ you were bein’ cocky to. ”

but the merchant shakes her head and yanks harder at her son’s arm, “ she wasn’t being cocky, boy! i asked about who made her commissioned skirt. let her go, dane! ”

it is not the threat of another punch that makes forrest act, it is the glare that dane directs at his mother. forrest’s fist slams against dane’s cheek and the shock of the hit is enough to loosen his grip on him. enough for forrest to slip from his hold and take multiple steps away, clutching the torn ribbon of his blouse in his fist. dane’s glare does not reach him in time before all forrest can see is the fabric of a shawl hanging over someone’s back.

“ mercedes, ” is the name that falls from forrest’s lips, grateful not for her strength but her courage. the mere action of stepping into the crossfire of confrontation. forrest smiles sweetly, a contrast of the bruise that wishes to form on his cheek or the upset reddening of his nose and ears. he knows that mercedes, alike him, does not wish for violence, definitely if it is not to be handed out properly and with reason. maybe that, is what brings him to apologize to her afterward. when dane is under the gaze of a knight and his mother is a witness to the small attack. ( forrest would not call it that; an attack. it implies that dane did damage. he would never give the satisfaction to such a man, such a boy. )

forrest sighs, “ sincerely, i am sorry for what you had to step into. it was... foolish of me to stand idle in his grasp and not speak out. ”

but mercedes only smiles at him. when she speaks, forrest does not try to apologize again. he listens to the rush of her voice, sweet and gentle. the curved letters that slip into her words; she speaks of kindness and the righteous act of friendship. he never considered them friends — outside of faith classes, they rarely spoke to one another — but he entertains the idea with a soft laugh. one that blossoms and only lightens at the prospect of becoming friends with someone after having them save you from a fight.

“ i must go mend my blouse but please, ” he bows his head respectfully, “ i will always be open to repay you back for your support. if you need anything, let me know. ”

#〳◌ ⁀ « coordinated praise » ( INBOX. )#〳♡ « support tag » ( MERCEDES. )#lalamines #{{ got long.. sorry !!

leneemusing

nonverbal memes

add + to reverse who does the action

[ attention ] for your muse to touch mine as a way of getting their attention [ sleep ] for your muse to wake mine [ cover ] for your muse to cover mine with a blanket or a jacket [ lift ] for your muse to give mine a hand stepping up or over something etc. [ kiss ] for your muse to come up to mine and kiss them without warning [ run ] for your muse to run their fingers through mine’s hair [ braid ] for your muse to braid mine’s hair [ embrace ] for your muse to hold mine [ smile ] for your muse to smile at mine from across the room [ wave ] for your muse to gesture to mine to come closer [ panic ] for your muse to grab mine’s arm or get behind them in a moment of danger [ touch ] for your muse to rest their forehead against mine’s [ weep ] for your muse to catch mine crying [ eat ] for your muse to offer mine food [ hit ] for your muse to attack mine [ love ] for your muse to touch mine as a show of affection or reassurance [ nap ] for your muse to fall asleep against mine [ rest ] for your muse to rest their head in mine’s lap [ look ] for your muse to catch mine staring [ seduce ] for your muse to touch mine sexually [ help ] for your muse to lean on mine for support [ give ] for your muse to offer mine their arm [ entwine ] for your muse to hold mine’s hand [ laugh ] for your muse to laugh at something mine did [ dance ] for your muse to dance with mine [ sit ] for your muse to pull mine into their lap [ yell ] for your muse to calm mine down [ cry ] for your muse to wipe mine’s tears away [ dream ] for your muse to wake mine from a nightmare [ surprise ] for your muse to show up at mine’s house without explanation [ fix ] for your muse to treat mine’s injury [ sacrifice ] for your muse to get hurt protecting mine [ guard ] for your muse to step between my muse and danger [ taste ] for your muse to cook for mine [ sing ] for your muse to sing to mine

#〳◌ ⁀ « laced truth » ( PROMPTS. )#{{ ignore [ seduce ]! i'm a child of holiness and a child in general #{{ forrest has nothing in their inbox so..!#{{ will be au-based depending on muse / prompt sent

for this mission season, i will admit to losing track of all my threads ( only for ophelia since the other two muses are relatively new ) so i'll be making a housekeeping post soon.. because of the mission prompt's focus though, i might push ophelia to interact as much as the others.

; OPHELIA. ( @duskroine )

reason +1 prompt | i'm thinking of taking this as a means to explore her delusional mindset towards fairy tales & insertions into stories. she will be actively chaotic and manipulate the environment to cause problems while also getting lost in the routine w them. i'd prefer for her partner in this to be someone who's grounded more so than she is w her intentions. ( unaffiliated / ashen wolves muse required! )

faith +1 prompt | as someone who takes "getting into character" seriously, she'll admire and not question the fake's intentions. she'll definitely focus more on taking notes of interpretation and will be quite confused w a partner who's trying to cause issues for saint seiros or make her conquest harder. not arguing seriously, but she needs a shoulder shake or two on why this lady isn't good.

lance +1 prompt | would like this to be timed close to them just being inhaled by the book! to a point where the discovery of the front gates is something they are immediately thrust into. the partner and ophelia will be accompanied by two npcs that will be discussed. ophelia will immediately get in character though, this will be hard to get her out of towards the middle / end of the thread. ( unaffiliated / ashen wolves muse required! )

; FORREST. ( this blog! )

faith +1 prompt | for the point, really... but also i'd like to think that forrest will be on the "we should follow her and stay low" side instead of immediately throwing himself into involvement. is more interested in the growth of the following rather than the actual mission on hand though... also, he'll suggest peaceful ways of solving this issue. is against any outright or obnoxious forms of action. [ TAKEN BY CORRIN. ]

puppy seminar | the idea is beyond cute to him and he's extremely excited to be a part of the race! won't be against teaming up to find shortcuts / lead a teammate on if requested, it's all for good fun anyway! i would like to explore or bring up the differences of what "fun" is in nohrian culture ( definitely not sledding ) and mention weather differences bc i'm pretty sure that nohr barely snows or smth. [ TAKEN BY JULIA. ]

ethereal ball clean-up | for this thread, the struggling students are nawt helping them at all. forrest will be the first to step up and tell them to focus on the task at hand; your muse can either join the other side or help him remind the students of the lesson. the goal of the end of this thread is to test the leadership / voice of both muses so depending on which partner takes this, it’ll be quite the.. Ride.

any weapon +1 prompt | if you dislike leocorrin or mentions of the family, do not grab this thread offer. as a dragon, forrest definitely wants to try to keep the dragon from getting harmed. there will references of the information he’s learned from corrin about dragons in the world of fateslandia. forrest is not a fighter though and will suggest for their partner to first help with the citizens before tackling the entire wild dragon on the loose issue. ( unaffiliated / ashen wolves muse required! )

; RHAJAT. ( @tenayalla )

reason +1 prompt | alike ophelia, rhajat will be causing problems for the characters in an attempt to, not only amuse herself, but investigate reactions & effects that change the lifestyle. she enjoys the idea of "playing god" and will question / manipulate any partner that tries to stop her or reason for a slower approach at gathering reactions. this thread can go multiple ways depending on the partner. ( unaffiliated / ashen wolves muse required! )

faith +1 prompt | to turn this thread upside down, rhajat wants to help saint seiros with whatever her intentions are. although her and her partner were sent to stop this lady, rhajat will go against orders and assist the lady with her goal. it's up to your muse if rhajat gets to her and her following by force or support. the choice to get rhajat on your side will require a strong-minded muse, one who’s persistent with a good sense of justice. [ TAKEN BY INGRID. ]

flying +1 prompt | rhajat is playing dirty for this competition. for this thread, i'd like for her to be against your muse and a few others ( mechanisms will be explained later ). rhajat is not a kind person and will do anything to knock people's hats off so if you join her in this thread, remember the warning.

#〳◌ ⁀ « custom returned » ( OOC. )

[ Trip ]

-- HER HANDLE ON the steps isn't as firm as Monica would have liked them to be, frankly. Her own steps into the fray had definitely been purposed and hopeful, but as her attempts had continued, she'd have to face the reality of the fact that she... wasn't very good at it, huh?

Every attempt to transfer the motions in her mind to the floor below her failed with continued misery, and only served to make her more frantic as her hands spun with increasing frustration. So involved was she in her own head, in fact, that she found herself-

" Oh! "

Monica gasps as her clumsiness sends another dancer spinning through the air, landing face first on the ground. Crud, of course she'd do something like this-

" Uh, 'scuse me! Uhm, " she bends over the boy, " sorry 'bout that, huh? Hehe, " she scratches the back of her head. " Could I offer you... " think Monica, think! " A. Stamp, in this trying time? "

Tentatively, she offers out her ring.

the orchestra quickly launches into another song after the partnered dance is dispelled and the dancers begin to situate in other places. forrest waves a hand to his partner, to bid him goodbye, but is unable to leave the dancing space fast enough before the next song comes down onto the crowd in a wave of notes. and amidst it all, he allows himself to be pulled into the individual sets of movements. improvisation at its finest heights.

though, the joy of surprise aids to the laughter that spills from his lips at every turn and and spin that he’s randomly given. it is enough amusement to last him for quite some time and, seeing as the orchestra has yet to soften their music, he bids his new, excited partners with a tip of his hat and a wish of good farewells.

with that, forrest pinches the side of his skirt and begins to retreat away from the dance space of the ballroom. and he is confident in the evasive side steps he pulls to move around and away from the dancers, grateful that some even move upon seeing him. so it’s with great confusion when a foot juts out and knocks hard against the back of his knee — the suddenness of the strike immediately shocking his legs into improper function. before he’s able to brace himself for the impact, forrest’s face slams against the floor.

the pain flares his face a moment too late and the gasps of nearby dancers reaches his ears before numbness drowns it all out; only the ring and heartbeat within his chest sounding out for him to hear. forrest does not mean to immediately break into tears but lifting himself off of the floor proves to be a task even more difficult than keeping his sniffles muffled behind his hand.

( it takes everything in him to not think of how his makeup may be smudged by the blood slipping from his nose, or the bruise that threatens to blossom both on his busted bottom lip and forehead. )

a voice rings from above where he sits on his knees, keeping himself up with one arm while holding his face with his free hand. to hell with embarrassment! even that isn’t as dire in this moment!

“ i-i... i’m fine, it’s alright...! ” shit. “ wah, you... uh, yes, please grab my card from m-my purse. ” forrest rises back on his knees and weakly holds up the hand that had been keeping him up. tears prick the corners of his eyes but he ignores it long enough for the girl standing above him to press her card against his ring. “ may you retrieve my.. napkins from my purse, too? ”

[ MONICA’S STAMP HAS BEEN ACQUIRED & FORREST’S STAMP HAS BEEN GIVEN OUT. ]

#toaball2022 #〳◌ ⁀ « coordinated praise » ( INBOX. )#〳♡ « support tag » ( MONICA. )#vonochs

She knows as soon as her son arrives. It’s maternal instinct, really—that, and the fact that Forrest’s design work could be picked out from a mile away. It’s not her own forte, no, but Corrin knows her daughter.

And she is practically sprinting towards said child.

The crowd parts for her—a perk that comes of dressing appropriately for her title for once. She’s beaming as she approaches, eyes wide and arms opening the closer she gets. Forrest has never been one for affection like his brother (the Leo in him, really) but Corrin will smother him tonight. Just for the occassion.

“Forrest!” arms fold around her child, squeezing him to her chest for as long as he will allow before drawing back an arm’s length to look him over. Checking for injuries—force of habit.

Crimson eyes meet his, warm. “Finally! I was beginning to worry—you look beautiful, by the way. You’ll have to tell me all about the rest of your trip here later, okay?”

bitterness intrudes and makes itself an unwilling home out of the space in forrest’s mouth, insistent that his body is not his body unless underneath the lie of standing up for a belief. the air remains suffocating, even as his footsteps retreat from where he and leo once stood together. the clicks of his heels are calm where his mind is not. he cannot breathe as easily knowing that his father has not changed — because forrest had changed. he had switched lace for truth, ribbons for genuine praise, and yet here he stands, hoping for a presence to drown out the absence of extravagance fashioned into his outfit.

footsteps sound from near him, out of rhythm with his own heels but curt enough to bring attention to his gaze. forrest does not move his arms from where they are crossed over his chest; otherwise, a sign of relaxation would be known as an invitation to be spoken to. the breakdown of walls he had so carefully built to only collapse on command.

with a soft glare, he watches as the crowd parts for someone... and he is not sure if it is relief or amusement that pull his lips into the gentle curve of a smile. mother rushes at him with such clumsy grace that he would have guessed that the unsteady match of her steps were caused by her wearing no footwear. he would not be surprised.

( the bitter resentment fills his mouth again after quickly recognizing the attire she wears — forrest had not even realized earlier that his father, too, was wearing the same scheme of colors. valla. he remembers how to swallow the poison and make it sugary, sweet, everything bitter packed neatly in the back of his mind. )

he realizes, too late, of corrin’s intentions before he is pulled into a tight hug. forrest forgets to inhale before her arms curl around him; face pressed awkwardly against her chest until he gives her arm a pat. there is a comfort in knowing that her search for affection has become lesser, or maybe she is simply holding back. still, it is a thanks for a mother ever so grateful.

guilt slips into his voice, a dip of volume, “ sorry, mother, i... i was quite nervous to make my appearance here. i stayed in a village close by until my nerves softened enough to manage. ” corrin’s words do not fail to fluster him, even by the softest of blush that takes to his face.

“ of course, i promise to — it was uneventful but i will share whatever details you’d like to hear. ” compliments fill his mind, all directed towards the delicate hues of fabric that make up corrin’s dress. or the flow of the dress’ skirt. or even the matching glimmer of glitter in her eyes and those upon her sleeves. instead, forrest sighs and leans closer, embracing corrin once again. loosely, but it is still the hug of a child who knew none of the likes. none from halfway.

“ thank you... i can say the same of yourself. the scheme of colors fit perfectly with your eyes! ”

#toaball2022 #〳◌ ⁀ « coordinated praise » ( INBOX. )#〳♡ « you remember her touch more than that of a father’s. your courage fails to forgive her for absence. » ( CORRIN. )#ofdusk #cw leo / corrin

Paranoia, they call it. Creepy, others say. Rumors are no stranger to Leo, nor are the things they say in relation to his infamous reputation. While he can control his carefully cultivated image, he cannot control people's reactions.

So it is only natural dark green eyes flick over to the glass doors when they open. Leo has long since made it a habit to track those who enter (or leave) a building. Lessens the chances he can be taken by surprise when, not if, something goes wrong.

A blink as the curly blonde head ventures further into the ballroom.

This trend of his family not writing letters announcing their arrival has to end. He should have been aware, regardless, but as faculty, he'd been roped into helping with ball preparations wether he liked it or not, leaving little time to scan the admissions records.

He doesn't recall excusing himself from whatever conversation he'd been having; all he knows is he's suddenly blocking Forrest's path.

As always, Leo takes a moment to assess his son. Forrest has gained another inch, even with those ridiculous heeled boots he insists on wearing. No visible signs of harm mar his features. Exhaustion lines his eyes; understandable, given the travel time from Nohr to Fódlan.

"Good evening, Forrest."

(One shouldn't sound so formal when speaking to their child.)

suspicion trickles awfully down the back of forrest’s neck, too heavy of a weight to be such a small thing of a crowd’s staring. surely. he’s familiar with the warm flush that colors his neck, ears, and face at the implication of being watched. seen, even in the slightest of sights. but this is not warm, it is a cold sweat that breaks out over his face; he worries at his bottom lip, ignorant of the lip gloss he had coated on his lips before entering the entrance earlier.

despite himself, instinct pulls him to walk quicker, longer strides and unsteady exhales; his heartbeat stutters in his chest. it’s shameful, to be running from whatever feeling embraces his mind with cold hands and icky attention. it is as familiar as it is not. it is as chilling as it is subtle.

footsteps hit the ground but forrest isn’t confident enough to discern the exact placement of those feet among the many people surrounding him. he quickly teases a peek over his shoulder, sighing partly in relief at the sight of no gaze trained upon him. a passing anxiety, maybe. it could even pass as slight nausea from the warping magic utilized to bring him here. except it isn’t because forrest turns back to the front and immediately chokes on the undeveloped gasp that builds and withers in his throat, all in one breath. all from making contact with the close shade of green eyes like his own.

forrest coughs, taking off his hat while covering his mouth with the back of his hand. the moment of pause between him and leo is enough for him to come to the reality that it was his father standing in front of him and that this wasn’t a cruel figment of his imagination; too eager with the idea of being in his father’s presence once more. ( there is shock that colors the situation. that it had been leo approaching forrest and not vice versa. that for the first in a while, the one to seek the other out is not him, but his father. )

whatever excitement that his heart attempts to cling to is quickly swatted away at the professionalism of leo’s tone. the reminder that whatever they had was not genuine and never was. forrest clutches onto his hat and bows his head, his gaze ever so assuming of how leo’s stare searched him for something, whatever that feature may be.

( is leo reminded of corrin in the pointed tips of forrest’s ears? does the tint of his eyes forever hold a value that leo does not have? will never have? forrest wishes that he could search for a feature between them that he did not share within the family. )

“ evening to you, too, father. ” forrest says, louder than a whisper but still a string of bundled anxiety with a pretty bow on it. still, despite the struggle in his head, he takes a deep breath and raises his head to stand properly. his gaze is unwavering, one might say, but he thinks that it is desperate. “ i hope the night has been treating you well. ”

immediately, forrest begins to think of an excuse to pull himself from the conversation. “ any talk of my travels will wait until the ball ends. i would like — no, i will be seeing my friends before the night comes to a close. ” a pause, “ please do not keep me standing here long. ”

#toaball2022 #〳◌ ⁀ « coordinated praise » ( INBOX. )#〳♡ « fear not for the lace of your sleeves; he will understand once the seams of patience come loose. » ( LEO. )#princepsumbra #cw leo / corrin

[ Nohr ] - A quick-paced dance that focuses heavily on precise footwork and bold movements, evoking the image of two soldiers in battle.

Exhausted from the White Heron Cup and not thinking straight in the slightest, Rafiel had taken a moment to rest in a dimly lit corner. As a Heron and wholly unable to see clearly in the dark, Rafiel thinks he spots a flash of blonde on the ballroom floor - and, thinking it's his brother, Rafiel makes a beeline towards the figure.

"Reys- oh, you're not Reyson!" With a small gasp, Rafiel takes a small step back from Forrest, before attempting to muster what little composure he had left from the night. "I am so sorry, I mistook you for my brother. I've had a bit of a long night, but, um," Rafiel paused before he could ramble any further, "would you like this dance, and may I have the honor of knowing your name? I do hope I am not coming off too forward, but I would be delighted to exchange stamps too, if that may make me any less of a fool in your eyes," Rafiel offered with a sheepish laugh. "Us birds have poor vision in the dark, you see, and I had been resting in the shadows but a moment prior."

she does not expect to immediately waver beneath the temptations of slumber. fatigue — the greedy little thing — hangs over her mind and threatens to pull a yawn from her throat; she busies her body with drinking the water from her glass instead. refreshing, the first sip is. but refreshing soon begins to lull an even greater force of slumber over her as she tips the glass further.

forrest whispers her thanks to the lady who takes her glass from her, quick to retreat away and find some peace near the corners of the ballroom. where some are dimly lit, this one appears brighter, but not as much as he would have liked it to be.

by the grace of fate or luck, forrest is thrust from his trance at the sound of an exclamation, soon followed by a gasp. he turns to the voice, surprise coloring his face in a soft flush at the sight of the man before him; one with.. wings? it is not the weirdest features on a figure that she has seen, especially since she is acquainted with those who have features alike that of a wolf and kitsune fox.

forrest giggles, holding her hands over her lower face as she muffles the increase of her laughter. “ please, sir, it’s perfectly fine! ” she takes her card out of her purse and exchanges it with the man’s own card, her smile bright and amused. “ you do not appear as a fool in my eyes. in any case, it is sweet to see someone this flustered over something as small as mistaking an identity for another. ”

she makes sure to press her initials clear and crisp onto his card, for the sake of being confident that he can see it well enough. as she passes his card back to him, forrest bows her head in greeting. “ i am forrest, and yes, i would love to have this dance with you. ” she pauses to hold her hand out for him to take, giving up the lead to the dance as well as her guidance. ( she wonders if he knows the nohrian dance as well as she does. )

“ might i have your name, too? i now know of your brother’s name, heh, which is very nice. reyson is a beautiful name, if i might add. ”

[ RAFIEL’S STAMP HAS BEEN ACQUIRED & FORREST’S STAMP HAS BEEN GIVEN OUT. ]

#toaball2022 #〳◌ ⁀ « coordinated praise » ( INBOX. )#〳♡ « support tag » ( RAFIEL. )#earthbound-chorister

she arrives about just the same time as ayra does and she can't help but be a little curious. even further was the fact that they were all dressed up as well, in comparison to herself who hadn't bothered to even try to dress up. she wouldn't have normally but… gazing upon someone who seemed to be in the same situation she can't help but think she at least should have tried.

"hello." she greets him, still quiet and aloof as well. "i'm not much for fashion but you're dressed…" she trails off, trying to come up with the proper compliment that a noble would like to hear. "splendidly? yes. splendidly." awkward, but she moves past it easily enough. "would you like to exchange stamps, maybe..? my name is ayra."

the voice that greets him is the same of the woman who had spoken to the knights positioned in front of the ballroom before he had. forrest hums in response, turning to face her with a polite smile and a quick bow of his head. it’s pleasant, he thinks, being able to meet different people from nations all over the world. or... worlds, if that’s what it was.

“ greetings, ” forrest responds, waiting to listen to whatever advance she might have had prepared when approaching him. and while there is one, its delivery leans onto the awkward side of a conversation. he doesn’t wince or show any expression beyond the gentle smile of someone used to such emotions. he offers a light laugh, nodding to the question and tipping his hat in greeting.

“ of course, ma’am, and thank you. i would have preferred something more— ” a quick slip of silence as forrest searches for the proper term of interest. “ —softer on the spectrum of formality. the slit of my skirt was cut unproperly but i had already arrived at that point so i was unable to fix it. ” for emphasize, forrest lets the skirt’s flap fall from his leg as he steps out of the slit, pointing to the unmatched design that’s cut off. after a moment he laughs and lets go of the skirt.

“ but you on the other hand, ” he makes quick word of exchanges cards with her and delightfully pressing his signet ring against the parchment of her card; smiling at the initials that the ink leaves behind. “ your attire radiates with professionalism! on the perfect side of formality while also crossing reference to your occupation — which is a swordswoman, yes? the hints of casual colored fabric give way to the form you present yourself in; unique, it is! oh, i’d faint if i ever got the offer of dressing a model with your attitude and grace! ”

before his words can continue, forrest flushes; realization sticking to the entirety of the rant he just pushed towards ayra. he laughs, nervously, and hands her back her card. “ oh dear, i... sorry, it seems that i spoke too out front.. ” he clutches onto his hat as he bows his head in apology. “ my eye for fashion appears to have overseen the conditions of this conversation. have i made you uncomfortable? ”

[ AYRA’S STAMP HAS BEEN ACQUIRED & FORREST’S STAMP HAS BEEN GIVEN OUT. ]

#toaball2022 #〳◌ ⁀ « coordinated praise » ( INBOX. )#〳♡ « support tag » ( AYRA. )#regnalastra

[ Nohr ] - A quick-paced dance that focuses heavily on precise footwork and bold movements, evoking the image of two soldiers in battle.

"You seem like a good enough dancer..." Perne says in-between movements, voice breathy as his feet struggle to maintain the song's pace. He taps on his ring, and gives Forrest a weary smile. "could ya teach me if I... give ya a stamp?"

this is the second round of dancing that forrest and perne have subjected themselves to; forrest, trying her best to comment on small mistakes in the steps, and perne, who is definitely putting in effort over confidence. forrest is glad in her previous choice of attire, a skirt that doesn’t dare to brush against the floor, even as the dance requires slight bends of the knee and sudden drops. she discarded her white hat and soft blue coat to better show just how exact the movements should match the sharpness of the music’s notes.

still, she cannot fault perne for his mistakes. he is trying. and it’s obvious enough for her laughter to be light and genuine. ( never mocking. she cannot imagine adopting the common nohrian curtness. ) it’s as the lead stays consistent with forrest’s movements, that perne speaks up. she almost expects a remark of complaint to the dance, not the compliment that comes out instead.

“ why thank you! ” forrest smiles, loyal to ever so small talent of dancing he’s progressed in after the war. “ you’re not as bad as some may think.. the song is a quick paced one. ” he fails to let it be known that this dance is the first ever choreography he pushed himself to learn; a young child too focused on upstanding a reputation than confronting issues of confidence.

perne taps his ring and forrest returns his smile for gentler one. “ of course, though i must argue that i’d teach you even without the offer of a stamp. ” she quickly takes perne’s hands and tries to match their steps, just enough to lull perne’s movements into slower ones; not a nohrian dance, something less sharp, dull and gentle. “ it’d be trouble to exchange stamps if you’re focused on the dance. ”

and now that their movements are calmer, forrest lets go of perne’s hands and holds out her card for him to take. “ i greatly admire your efforts! it’s... leading to something, surely. ”

#toaball2022 #〳◌ ⁀ « coordinated praise » ( INBOX. )#〳♡ « support tag » ( PERNE. )#pahndelion #{{ she will teach you the nohrian dougie... it's ok perne

symhildr

Velouria's tail wagged with the arrival of a familar scent in the ballroom. It was certainly one that she had never expected to find outside of the borders of Nohr, but a welcome surprise nonetheless. She couldn't help but stare a little at her fellow Nohrian. Uwa, it was truly a fitting outfit for Forrest. Velouria's ears twitched softly, a smile flickering across Velouria's face. She waved softly at the blonde, a shy little hello to someone she hadn't seen in a while.

"Hey Forrest... nice to see you."

the sight of velouria in the attire fit for a ballroom and not her regular robes is... surprisingly, truly. it’s enough shock to render forrest momentarily speechless, a gasp in his throat and a pleasant smile on his face. she does seem a bit out of place, only due to the unfamiliarity that her appearance pulls his gaze to, but a look is a look; he’ll have to ask her where she obtained her dress from.

the fabric of the skirt is a tad bit rough - looking which, although it goes with the entire fit’s theme, is a hard feat to make. nothing that he can’t do, but any help to know what to gift velouria when the time calls for it, would be perfect!

she waves at him and forrest giggles, recovering from the trance of shock quick enough to make his way towards her lest her attention be pulled away easily. her staring is not disliked nor pushed away, forrest embraces it, in fact. bowing his head and holding his hat as he straightens his posture.

“ oh goodness, how long has it been, velouria my dear... ” almost long enough to say that they hadn’t been in the presence of each other since the war’s collapse and the months of gathered coping that came with it. reprise that wasn’t enough, even for the eldest member of the army, surely.

forrest smiles at her, kind and polite, before holding his arms out for a hug. “ how do you feel about a quick embrace? only if you’d like. heh, it’s wonderful seeing you again, as well. ”

symhildr

velouriavonwolfchild:

Velouria almost wanted to cry, she was always so happy whenever one of her old friends showed up here, and compared to the last person she had reunited with (ahem ahem rhajat) Forrest’s kindness was very welcoming. She practically jumped at him for a hug, remembering how much taller she was standing next to him again. Luckily she also remember how picky he was about clothes, being careful (look at her, being considerate!) to mind what she did. She giggled a little, incredibly pleased to be able to see an old friend again. It felt like it had been forever (was it really even that long? She didn’t really know) and she had missed all of her friends from back home so much. As much as she loved being here at the academy, it was nice to have things that she recognized around.

“Oh! Here’s an idea! How about we exchange stamps to celebrate your arrival here?” She giggled a little more, glad that she hadn’t been the one to lose her stamp tonight (looking at you Morgen). Her card may have been more than a little crumpled, but she would happily add more stamps to it!

“… I wonder what will happen once I get all five… heh…”

forrest immediately braces himself for an attempted pounce, fingers flexing from where his hands are held out. velouria’s grown quite tall from when they last saw each other; though, it’d have nothing to compare to the strength he’s gained within that time as well. it wouldn’t be the first time he’s forced her away from him in an attempt to keep his clothing from receiving a tear or rip of her enthusiasm. not as troublesome as selkie’s but still an effort in its own.

to his surprise, velouria doesn’t pounce on him. it’s a development that he hadn’t expected; understanding that velouria is a force of nature to only her mind’s content. ignorant to others and their views of life. this is… unexpected. and forrest cannot keep himself from tensing up at the press of her against his front — it is a hug, yes, and one he beckoned her for, but it is unable to dispel the distrust simmering in the back of his throat.

( there is a sense of comfort in seeing her tail wag furiously behind her. certainty in the fact that she’s overjoyed and hopefully not in the mood for any rough play; it’s something forrest would expect from selkie but even now, he is not sure. )

forrest nods, smiling small at the giggles that leave velouria’s lips. “ of course! a print of our lovely interaction, too, ” he speaks as he takes her card and passes his to her. “ please refrain from creasing the parchment, though. i do still need the initials of everyone to be coherent for the knights to see. ”

his signet ring presses against her card, a crisp ink print of his initials on the open line given. forrest giggles, “ whatever might happen, i’m sure that it’s to your benefit. ” and with that, he passes her card back to her and retrieves his own. “ are you busy right now? it’d be a pity to have our moment be so short - lived. ”

[ VELOURIA’S STAMP HAS BEEN ACQUIRED & FORREST’S STAMP HAS BEEN GIVEN OUT. ]

for @velouriavonwolfchild

#toaball2022 #〳◌ ⁀ « an embroidered knife’s sheath » ( WRITING. )#〳♡ « support tag » ( VELOURIA. )#velouriavonwolfchild

Julia leaves the gardens with a small collection of hand-picked blooms. Periwinkle and larkspur blossoms are clutched in her small hands as she searches out the person who inspired her foraging trip in the first place.

"Hello? I hope this isn't a bother," she says, tapping the person's shoulder. Oh, she's even more beautiful up close. Julia feels the tips of her ears burn as she holds out the tiny bouquet. "I saw your outfit and I just thought that these would look lovely in your cap. Not that it needs it... they'd make a nice bouquet too, I think."

"Where are my manners? My name is Julia, it's a pleasure to meet you. Would you like to exchange stamps with me?"

in the reflection of his small mirror, held in the grip of a kind knight, forrest quickly fixes the ruffles of his shirt’s collar; the waves and rolls of fabric that line his collar’s sharp slope. it’s a moment that she takes to checking the condition of her ringlets and the new mascara design on his eyes. true, her arrival here was less than an hour ago, but she had underestimated how heavy the temperature change was from inside the ballroom and out. thankfully, nothing is out of place or in need of a fix up.

forrest gives his thanks to the knight, politely taking back his mirror and slipping it into his handbag before adjusting the signet ring on his finger. the knight bows and takes their leave; a hand on forrest’s shoulder stops him from following after the knight’s light footsteps. when he turns around, he doesn’t expect to be in front of an offered bouquet, no matter how tiny for it is still beautiful, still full of adoration.

seeing the lady’s expression lighten up causes forrest’s shock to double into his chest, his pointed ears flushing a slight shade of pink as words are spoken between them. ever so kind... generous in her genuine grace, it all pushes a soft laugh from forrest’s lips. he allows her to finish speaking though and only after does he slowly take the bouquet into his hands. a collection of gentle shades and tints; wonderous petals among the stems and leaves.

“ thank you so much, ” she says, almost breathless at first. “ these are perfect..! the right sizes to be trimmed and fitted to rest on the hat’s material. ” and forrest pauses before carefully pulling a flower from the bouquet and setting it into the lady’s hand. “ but please, do take one as well. it’d be wonderful if the finder can match with the gifted, yes? ”

he’ll have to add the flowers to his hat sometime later, maybe when the ballroom empties out and there are a dozen or so of free tables to sit at. until then, forrest nods and pulls his card from inside his bag, trading it with julia’s as he presses a firm, crisp print of his initials on her card.

“ i am forrest elaine dragmire, and the feeling is mutual, definitely. ” the card is passed back as forrest slips his back into his purse; holding his now free hand out for julia to take. “ thank you, dearly, for the stamp and praise. it warms my heart to hear it from such a pretty lady like yourself! now, might we return to the ballroom together? ”

[ JULIA’S STAMP HAS BEEN ACQUIRED & FORREST’S STAMP HAS BEEN GIVEN OUT. ]

#toaball2022 #〳◌ ⁀ « coordinated praise » ( INBOX. )#〳♡ « support tag » ( JULIA. )#nagargent

[ Embrace ] - The sender gets in closer, practically embracing the receiver as they dance.

"My my." Mitama's arms quickly catch Forrest, wrapping around his neck as she pulls herself close to him. Her smile is playful but wicked as she catches the Nohrian before any of the others can drag one of her dear friends away. "You certainly picked a time to show up."

A fair number of them had. Mitama's eyes trail off into the crowd briefly before returning to Forrest's. "You are aware that you have certain less pleasant relatives here, yes?" She asks with worried frown. She would not intrude herself in their business, but that did not stop her from wanting to save her friend from unknowingly walking into a beast's den.

forrest squeaks at the rushing touch of mitama, though upon recognizing her immediately, ends the shock with a lighthearted laugh. his arms move around her waist, allowing her to pull him into a dance amongst the scatter of partners as the music begins to fall to a slow fade. it’s with delight, that forrest catches the impatient gaze of ophelia somewhere outside of the dancing space; certainly upset that mitama was quicker to grab him for a moment of catching up. he can imagine the mutters that leave the heroine’s lips in light irritation...

there is no lead to the dance that the two step to; a slow movement of holding each other and following whatever loose formation is given to the music. forrest’s smile widens at mitama’s statement, “ and that i did, huh? i hope the evening has been treating you fair. sorry i didn’t make an entrance earlier, ” the apology is genuine, but casual enough to slip as playful.

a slow turn, forrest intertwines his fingers behind mitama’s back as her gaze moves from him for only a moment or two. maybe less. maybe forrest is gazing at her too hard. his attention had already been held within her grasp but it tightens in a knot at her next words; caution, or concern, perhaps. the message that sinks to underlie her tone is... unusual, and forrest’s eyebrows furrow in confusion upon trying to understand it.

“ if by relatives, you mean my father then... yes, i am aware. ” unfortunate, really, that his voice almost wavers at the idea of confrontation, but it isn’t something he can run from. not when he had already been pressed into conversation with his father after entering the ballroom. though, forrest cannot bring himself to look away from mitama. “ you’re worried. is something the matter? ”

from what letters have presented, there shouldn’t be anything simmering beneath his family that he hasn’t been told.. right?

the dance takes another swing but forrest is no longer paying as much attention to the steps as he should be — surprising, that his footwork fails to falter even as his focus is shifted. “ has something occurred recently? ”

#toaball2022 #〳◌ ⁀ « coordinated praise » ( INBOX. )#〳♡ « support tag » ( MITAMA. )#verseandrhyme

"Hey Forrest... nice to see you."

forrest smiles at her, kind and polite, before holding his arms out for a hug. “ how do you feel about a quick embrace? only if you’d like. heh, it’s wonderful seeing you again, as well. ”

#toaball2022 #〳◌ ⁀ « coordinated praise » ( INBOX. )#〳♡ « support tag » ( VELOURIA. )#velouriavonwolfchild

theofficersacademy

prompt 2. groovin’ & movin’

After some time mingling with friends and discovering the new photo-artifexes, the students find their rhythm and eagerly wait for the music to start. The school’s orchestra briefly fills the room with a melodic cacophony of string instruments, deep clarinets and high flutes practicing important sections. Then, silence, before beginning the first of many pieces of the night.

The tune may be unfamiliar to most of you, even to the Fódlan students. Those from Archanea, however, may recognize the familiar melody of a timeless minuet from their continent. With the Officers Academy welcoming in students from all over the world, they have expanded their musical repertoire to include familiar dances for their international students to enjoy!

All prompts are under the cut!

Keep reading

#toaball2022 #〳◌ ⁀ « laced truth » ( PROMPTS. )#{{ due to forrest's strict diet / specific appetite.. i can't reblog the party memes for the ball.#{{ so we can have him dance! these can take place in the marketplace square / ballroom / or house party. 'm flexible for any

It’s obvious that his arrival to the monastery is within the hours of festivities that had been printed into the letters his family had given him beforehand. And he’s thankful to the dragons above that he was able to use the time during his transport to sew together an improvement from one of his outfits packed neat into his suitcase. The knight who helped him was even kind enough to help him tie together the strings on the back of his blouse!

The idea of attending a ball immediately after arriving is... odd, and Forrest dislikes the feeling in his chest that simmers when he’s given his signet ring and card. Is it the fear of making the wrong appearance? Is it the pain of showing his face after refusing to arrive alongside his mother? Is it the...

Chimes of a bell snap Forrest from his thoughts; the knights hand on his shoulder keeps his feet steady, his thoughts under a zipper. He nods to whatever might’ve been said and bows his head, comforted in the touch of his hat beneath his fingertips. Glad that, even though he had to change which hat he wore to match his attire, he still had something on his head.

( There should be a sense of peace being with his family again, but... there is surprise in the lack of it. )

FORREST’S LIST OF ENGAGEMENTS; ( a newly worn ring, signed off in ink on the gem with the initials of FED. )

#toaball2022 #〳◌ ⁀ « sunlight’s frills » ( IC. )#cw leo / corrin

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