#amnesiacpawn

[amitieos]

what we see in the dark

On the long walk back to Garreg Mach, Elincia found her mind reeling. Were the events of the past week real or just a very convincing figment of her imagination? If that prison truly did exist, was it wrong to turn their backs on the poor people trapped in that hell? There was no sign it had ever been though and things they saw were unsettling like enemies that never bleed. As much as she would prefer to leave the past behind her something deeply uncomfortable was clearly at play.

This is exemplified by the fact that the monastery is surrounded by shadowed warriors, cloaked in umbra and wielding magnificent and menacing weaponry. Their group splits, hoping to take down a few each and Elincia flies alongside Marianne, Morgan and Ilyana as she tries to mentally prepare herself for the coming battle.

When she draws her Levin Sword, she instantly feels a new energy, a new power emanating from the stain on her hand. It goads her onwards - she will not allow her allies to fall. Sword raised high she and Chrysaor dive upon the shaded trickster. He’s nimble but she’s quicker, more accurate and lands a solid blow before backing away. It’s then that she notices the archer among their ranks and prays she hasn’t seen her too. Thankfully, their foes mostly ignore her for the time being.

Dealt -1.5 damage to Shadow Trickster

@cruelsfate​

[atypicalsenerio]

Power Point [Morgan & Soren]

Starter for @amnesiac-pawn

The concept of a group project was entirely foreign to Soren. Training drills and other workouts meant for the general strengthening of individual people and the overall combat unit was one thing. This, though, he wasn’t so sure about.

Professor Aveline was always a bit excitable. Her latest task for them was delivered in a way that was no exception to that. She held a stack of large pieces of paper that were at least three feet squared, speaking with just her head visible behind the large sheets.

“To further your education and understanding of our Reason material, you will be assigned a partner to complete a Power Point with! A Power Point is a presentation using these big pieces of paper as a visual aid while you teach the rest of the class about your topic! Isn’t that exciting?” She beamed. “I’ll assign you all your partner and topic, so hold tight before you charge off to your best friend!”

Soren could’ve laughed. What best friend did he have in there anyway? And how could a partner be useful?

He tuned in to hear her call his name. “Soren, Morgan- you’ll be teaching us about dark magic! Remember to be accurate, but keep it clear so everyone can follow your presentation. This is due in a week!”

A whole week? Soren watched as she set a small stack of the ridiculously large paper on his desk. He looked over at Morgan, recalling their last meeting.

Right.

That.

He got up and carried the papers and the rest of his materials over to Morgan, dodging the rest of the bustling class. He set the papers on Morgan’s desk. Soren had no qualms about talking in front of the class, and his own dabbling in dark magic was enough that he could do a decent presentation all by himself with some light research, but the focus of this was working together.

“Well? So long as we don’t work in the dining hall, this ought to be quick and easy.”

[radiantpriamos]

Chocolate and Poetry [Morgan & Priam]

H.E.A.R.T. starter for @amnesiac-pawn

Priam felt a bit weird doing this for anyone who wasn’t named Patty, although he supposed that doing it for Patty might’ve been a bit out of his usual depth too.

He thought about Morgan while sitting outside in the courtyard, paper and a book on his lap. He’d seen Morgan around, sure, but they weren’t close. Priam hadn’t really tried to get close to anyone back in the day. He’d had two kinds of ways to sort people back then, which were ‘could beat in a fight’, and ‘Chrom.’ (He’d like to get Chrom into the other category, but another time). So, he knew the very basics, but not a lot else.

He had to write a poem.

He’d do his best, as he did with anything.

Priam wrote carefully, deliberately, imagining reading it aloud. It would hopefully only have an audience of one, but...

hair like the night sky eyes like the sun twilight and lightning all in one It was all about looks so far, and Priam would need more information before he could finish. How could he write about a man’s strength or courage with proper embellishments without a spar or something first? He pondered some more as a shadow fell across the paper. He looked up-

Ah.

“Morgan!” he greeted, knuckles holding the book on his lap suddenly white. Act causal, he told himself.

[healresolve]

@amnesiac-pawn​

No news is good news, or so it is said, but still Lana cannot feel completely calm when her friends and peers battle it out even in a controlled environment. She trusts most of the faculty well enough to do what needs to be done, to step in as needed and ensure the safety of students. Yet it cannot be denied that some hands are more capable than others. Rumor has reached her ears that General Kempf of House Friege has recently been brought on as a professor at the academy and while she does not know the man personally, she is aware of his allegiances during the war.

Sooner or later students will file in carried by cots or their own tired steps, some with spirits requiring mending as much as their bruised bodies. Until then, Lana can only wait and watch the horizon for any early arrivals.

She had considered briefly representing the Blue Lions House alongside Larcei, but decided against it in the end, more comfortable taking up arms only in necessity. The spirit of competition has never enamored her though she bears no judgment towards those who aren’t immune to its charms. Her best friend is that type of person, afterall.

“Oh, hello, Morgan,” Lana notices him loitering about in a similar fashion, just outside the land borrowed for the long-held tradition like she. “You aren’t participating today, are you? Otherwise you’d already be out there... well, we can always use more hands.”

[halfjalar-archive]

The Joy of Creation.

#LabyrinthSea2021 @jehannanmage @amnesiac-pawn

Azelle has not had many opportunities to see sand in his life. Well-- ordinary sand like what one would see around them on the ground he has seen, sure. Rarely, though, has he had a chance to see on a beach. And not once has he been able to actually relax and rest on one.

Slow steps carry him through the place. He feels kind of odd - are they not supposed to be on a mission after a mysterious new Relic or something of that nature? - but he supposes that if a general consensus has been made with the group, the locals and what’s his face-- Ascalon, then it is fine. At that point it is not his call to make and he should follow orders, so that is what he will do.

Confused ruby gaze wanders around the sands, in many places shaped curiously into castles, houses and other... facilities of varying sizes and quality. He has never in his life thought to attempt such a thing with sand. And just nearby, Azelle spots two students from his group preparing for some activities involving sand as well.

Curiosity and boredom get the better of him, and he decides to approach. Hopefully he will not disrupt their fun too much.

“Hello, you two”, he speaks out. “What are you doing here?” His head tilts slightly to the side in confusion; he supposes they might be likely to do what many others around them are doing, but at the same time he has seen them both use Fire magic, so... “Are you going to also build something, or try and make glass out of sand, or...?”

[forlornwyvernrider]

» an awkward start

starter for @amnesiac-pawn​

Gerome couldn’t calm himself.

It has been... some days since... that happened. And admittedly, even now, he is still confused about many things. He does not know how to act around Morgan in the monastery. Thankfully they’re not from the same house so crossing paths is still minimal-- although he feels some frustration about it...

He thought if he had time to think about this further, he’ll have some clarity. But alas, he’s still at square one for each time he tries to think about the tactician, his mind can only think about grabbing the other and once more getting lost in a state of euphoria. Instead of actual thoughts, he thinks of his touch. He remembers the foreign feeling of intimacy with another person and how much he craves it now that he had a taste of it.

All of this he thinks of instead of pondering on how to approach this moving forward and at times, he doesn’t think it’s a bad thing. Is it so wrong to be hung up on a feeling? Yet at the end of day, when the euphoria wears off, Gerome is reminded he was always a man of action and never once felt comfortable if he had no plans.

He needed to do something.

And so he does... with some help. Fortunately enough the monastery was not short of kind souls that assisted inexperienced fools such as him. Days after Morgan’s birthday, even if it wasn’t warranted, he arrives at his doors bearing gifts-- a simple, light sponge cake adorned by strawberries on the side and on the top. If his memory serves him right, Morgan should like this... and if he hoped some more, maybe even love it. 

While he possessed some of his Mother’s domestic skills, he was no baker. He liked to believed he was guided enough to at least present an edible one. 

Back and forth, he paces just in front of Morgan’s doors, aware it could be open because of their policy, unsafe as it may be. The only question now was how to go about this. His visit was too unannounced, too random. Gerome didn’t do random...

He ponders on this some more, thinking of what to say and do after opening his doors, whispering to himself different kind of greetings before eventually, the door doesn’t wait for him and opens. Caught of guard, the wyvern rider loses all form of eloquence, a tint of red on his checks as he sees the target of his affection as blurts out a: “...hi.”

The angel cake he brought with him was raised, as if acting as a shield to guard Gerome from his own awkwardness. Hopefully it speaks for itself.

[sweettoothforhire]

» an apple a day

starter for @amnesiac-pawn

Gaius was in a pretty good mood-- not that he had a reputation for having bad moods -- but this day in particular was super good. 

He helped out a merchant in town today and scored himself a dozen apples as thanks! Ha! If only good deeds awarded him like this often, he wouldn’t have a need to be thieving in the past. (Let’s face it, he probably still would have.)

As soon as he got them, he knew  exactly what to do with them-- turn it into candied apples! 

He went back to the monastery looking like he won the lottery, a noticeable bounce in his steps as he whistles a jolly tune. 

On his way to the mess hall, he catches glimpse of a lil nerd he’s quite fond with. He’s one of the little twerps from a time he’s not familiar with but has learned to accept. And much like how he started spoiling his daughter from another time, he immediately wanted to go full uncle mode when he saw Morgan.

“Yo, Junior! Look alive. Catch!” He made sure to shout loud enough for Morgan to hear him, and just as he does, he’d throw him one of his apples. 

[wyvern-rider]

two scales of the same wing ꕥ

      Formalities, paperwork and admissions aside, Cherche settles into the monastery without haste. The normal classroom environment serves no purpose for her course; so she’s found a good rotation schedule to work with in the training yard. Plenty of space and plenty of equipment to work with. Her only complaint, is how tight this uniform feels. Cherche, being used to such flexible material to work with, feels confined in Garegg Mach’s choice of clothing. But she won’t audibly complain.

      Heaving a training dummy on her back, Cherche straightens her posture for it to fall into position on the field. The sun shines down so brightly, she can’t help but wipe the sweat from her brow. She’s been working diligently for most of the morning, prepping for her class later in the afternoon. Minerva bathes in the sun at the far end of the field; despite the discouraging glances Cherche receives from staff and students for allowing a wyvern into school grounds, she pays no heed. It’s important for her dear friend to stretch out from those cramped stables after all. So there she’ll stay, enjoying the gentle breeze and warm sunlight.

      She sighs, taking a sip of water from the canister nearby, while working to furl her hair up into a messy bun. There’s still more work to be done. Well, that is, until she’s greeted by a familiar face coming across the field. Yes, she remembers Morgan quite well, considering how close he’d always been following their faithful tactician in Ylisse. Bless both their souls. Cherche smiles, turning fully to greet Morgan as he bounds right up to her.

      “Morgan! What a delight to see you!” She grins oh so sweetly, setting her canister down, “I’m sure you heard of my arrival from Gerome. Oh, look at you! You look so well fed!” Her hand comes forward to cup the boy’s cheek before gently pinching it between her fingers, “You’re so much taller too, goodness.”

@amnesiac-pawn​​