#allyphase

[katabatiic]

🎨!

!

[enarmor]

"Sain!" Mark's voice picks up a bit at the sound of his voice, just barely cutting over the dim sound of the crowd. The tactician slides through the assembled people to reach him, and give him a small bow and warm smile. "I'm glad to see you here. Are you well?"

Sain is nearly at the end of his rope when Mark arrives. He had tried his hand at the whole flirting bit, and be it either his past experiences coloring him a better man or just being out of whack, he's about to call it quits. He muses that he'd still stick around for dinner--owing it to Lady Ethlyn and Sir Sigurd--but that this wouldn't be a repeat of the Ethereal Ball.

There's no Kent here to cry on his shoulders, in any case.

Keyword: almost. For the sound of Mark's quiet voice unlocks memories he hadn't thought of in a long, long time. She rarely spoke, even as the threat of a second Scouring drew near, but what commands she did issue are branded into his ears.

"By the grace of Elimine!"

He swats her hands to each side of her body, skipping the awkwardness of their encounter to pull the strategist into a hug. It's a big one, to boot, with Sain's well trained-arms and passionate, fiery heart enveloping her in his love. "Ah, Mark! I yearned to hear the sweet sound of your voice again! It's like birdsong on a quiet summer's morning. I can picture it against a backdrop of a flowering garden and rising sun! How could I not be well with you in my midst?"

Just as quickly as she had been pulled, she is pushed back to arm's length--her shoulders held in his gloved hands. "And look at you, oh look at you! If I were any more the fool, I'd have mistaken you for the queen of Bern. Look how well you blossomed!"

His smile touches both ends of his face. Behind all his high-flying words is a genuine sense of excitement that no charade could mask. Mark was his rock, the needle on his compass. If ever he needed to be tied down or shown which way was forward, she was there. She commanded him with her masterful hand, and he moved three spaces across her board each time. Always in that jagged 'L,' always forming up for the offensive. If ever she needed a shooting star to streak across the battlefield, she had Sain. Fearless Sain, adoring Sain.

"Come, my darling. Let your devoted knight whisk you away. I'll make room at the table for you--maybe chase off that dreadful Reed--and we can catch up over dinner."

[shystratagem]

she is curious to see if her name — their name — appears…

Friendfiction

"Mark" does not, but there's more than a few pages featuring obvious variations on it. "Martin" is the most common one, but "Magnus" and "Malik" appear frequently as well. All of the "M" names blatantly describe variations the same character, because aside from personality similarities, the physical descriptions match up as well: pale, slender, shorter than the romantic interest, brown hair, and with sporting rounded features. The vast majority of the pages describing this character have a warrior woman named "Linden" or "Lauren" as the romantic interest, and in every instance, it is she who takes the lead in the romance... but she's not the only one Martin is paired with.

...In fact, almost every single character that has been written about at all is paired with Martin (or one of Martin's many apparent identical twins) in one story or another. There's the suave ex-criminal Lancelot, the stoic and devoted knight Heinrich, the battle-hungry and domineering Vanya, the shy Fiorella, the noble and kindhearted Elroy... it seems like this Martin fellow really gets around.

Curiously, though, these pages all sport something that makes them unique among all of the works scattered across the courtyard: they are the most heavily edited of the lot. Most of the words are almost entirely scribbled out, reworked over and over with the author never seeming satisfied. Martin remains a fixed point, but the world around them is ever-changing, unable to resolve into an actual conclusion. Not a single page actually depicts Martin romancing or being romanced by someone, just endless yearning... it's almost sad.

Surely this means nothing, though.

[fellsparks]

[ ASSIST ]: sender picks up and carries the receiver away for medical attention because they've been injured and can't walk easily. [hello argent friend]

Their push forward against Haven had come at a bad time, and the opposing gunshots had been quick and blinding. Mark's voice comes softly, through that box she always spoke through - "We need to get out of here! We'll regroup later!" And then, Mark pulls with all her might to hook Nel's arm over her shoulders, and acts like a crutch to push her behind a nearby building.

An ambush, completely unexpected. Nel knew that it would be too easy for them to make it through this without being confronted in any way-- so once a bullet tore through her arm on the right side, chaos erupted on both sides. Another caught her thigh, and though it nearly blinded her with pain, she was still more than capable of raising her weapon to return the injury tenfold upon those who decided to approach. However, blood loss is a true threat, and Nel sways on her feet. Perhaps one of the blasts has hit an artery, she's not sure-- but Mark is immediately at her side before she has a chance to fall or truly stumble. She can still aim, and she can still cover the both of them as they move; and she does so valiantly before Mark deposits her in a place of cover. The Fell Dragon's hand lingers on the other's forearm for a moment, fingers slightly shaky from the injuries. "Thank you-- Just... stay down, okay? Be cautious, and we will... be fine. I will not allow harm to come to you, and we will return home as quickly as possible."

[enarmor]

hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

hi (with rizz)

[heavy-draw]

When it’s Mark’s turn to spin the bottle, she does so with her eyes closed. She has hopes, sure, but she knows she has to play the game fair. It’s only after she hears it stop that she opens her eyes, glancing up at - Shamir, again. Well, she’d have a chance at what she was looking for before...

Mark’s movements mirror Shamir’s, the gentle hand over hers, the hesitant entering of her space. “Um, are you okay, with another kiss?” 

Then, on confirmation, Mark leans forward, pressing her lips into Shamir’s. The flavor rings stronger, because Mark’s kiss is deeper this time, not only testing the waters but diving into them. Her hands stay with Shamir’s, gently squeezing as she pulls away, slightly breathless, face flushed with the moment. 

Isn't that a surprise? Her luck seems to be pushing her in favor of Miss Mark, and the roguish smirk that settles on Shamir's face is the finest indication of the fact that this is all rather amusing for her. Sure, games like this don't particularly mean anything, but she won't say no to a bit of fun in a party that otherwise has her feeling a bit off-her-game. This time, though... she feels like she wants to test the other. Maybe it's from the drinks she's had already, or maybe it's because she was getting bored from hanging around too much socialization. So when Mark leans in, Shamir frees one hand to grab her by the chin to pull her in with insistence, tilting her head to deepen a kiss that originally started as chaste. Her free hand grips harder to Mark's, her teeth tugging at her companion's lower lip as both a tease and a warning-- of what, she leaves that to the other's imagination. Once she pulls away, she doesn't mind making a show of licking her lips, fingers lingering at her chin for a beat longer than she intends. "You're more bold than I thought."

[heavy-draw]

[ DRINKS ] Beverages both alcoholic and non-alcoholic are offered in assorted glassware. Have a sip! - Mark quietly offers a glass of water to Shamir. "You should, um, stay hydrated...!"

Oh, this is a somewhat familiar face from the chaos of last month. The mercenary graciously accepts the drink offered to her, a nod of acknowledgment following in the moments before she brings the glass to her lips. "Ah, thanks." The corners of her lips twitch upwards into the smallest hint of a smirk, and it's clear that she's keeping the moment lighthearted as she speaks. "Though... Something stronger would pique my interest a little more."

[warpaway]

“Um, Linhardt...?” The voice that calls to them is only somewhat familar, but it rings of their trials, of a vision of the future. Mark slowly untangles herself from the crowd she walks with, a new staff clutched in her hands. “Um, you can use this, right...?” She holds it out to him in offering. “I think... you will be able to help people, with this.” She offers a hint of a smile. 

mark's voice isn't a familiar one to linhardt, but the context surrounding the shape of its sound is one that reminds them instantly of her before they even see her. the moment he recognizes who's calling his name, he begins wondering why she would seek him out in the first place, but the answer becomes evident soon enough.

a staff. can they use it? they've never tried. healing has always been something their body has just done; similar to breaking into a sprint - they can whenever they want, but they know their limits.

linhardt knows his body can't take giving too much more without needing an actual rest. the chaos of their tenuous situation has made it impossible for him to actually relax. he hates it, both because he deserves a little relaxation at this point, and because if he can't heal there's nothing else he can do.

they accept the offered item without a word, staring at the jeweled side curiously. they appraise the weight in their hand, and then they try to...

the orb at the top begins to glow, and linhardt stops trying.

"it seems as though i can," he tells her, smiling. "thank you very much, mark. i was worried on how much more i'd be of any help to the others. now i don't have to."