#artificidel

[viridescent-lance]

"Sir Forsyth, yes?" Ephidel addresses from a darker corner of the knight's hall. "I have heard tell that it is your 'birthday,' and that you are Professor Python's dearest 'boytoy,' so I have brought you this." A heavy tome is pulled from beneath clerical robes and presented to the man. "He has said you are fond of martyrdom, so on behalf of the church, these are her histories." His smile turns cheshire like a pleased cat. "You may enjoy the sacrifices of Saint Seiros and her Ten Elites."

"Yes, that is I." Forsyth barely has a chance to respond to the strange, haunting individual before they say something that is made even more outrageous by the impassive monotone they deliver it with. If it were someone else, he may assume they were mocking his relationship--in this moment, he is utterly and absolutely certain that Python has described their relationship as such to this person. "I'm not--that is to say--who told you such a thin--erm, thank you..."

"Gwah?" Forsyth's stumbling is then interrupted by yet another unbelievable series of descriptors, this time making Forsyth wonder if this holy person is truly so austere or if this is part of a very committed bit. The book is, in fact, a very valuable and lengthy account of the aforementioned saint and elites, and must have been very difficult to procure. As he looks up from studying it, he sees a disarming smile that answers none of his questions, simply raising more.

"Is this some sort of game?" To an outsider, Forsyth must seem ungrateful, questioning his generous gifter. But those comments are simply unacceptable, even in jest! He does not know this mysterious benefactor, and he does not know how well Python knows them. For Python's sake, he hopes it is not particularly well. He hopes his expression is severe enough, and he shakes his head. "I appreciate the present, really and truly, but the manner in which you speak of me and my relationship to my partner...I apologize, but it is utterly inappropriate."

This birthday is off to an...interesting start, that is certain.

[nagaficat]

As is customary for Ephidel, he seems to appear from thin air behind Deirdre. Only making his presence known by his uncharacteristically soft voice. He looks almost like a lost child at this soiree. "I trust you are enjoying yourself Lady Deirdre?"

It seems like such a silly question. Of course she is enjoying herself! Deirdre finds it difficult to imagine someone out there who might not be having the time of their lives. It is a wonderful, enchanted, perfect evening and she intends to savor every moment of it.

But she knows that, ultimately, Ephidel's question is one asked in politeness and she smiles warmly at the man who has become someone quite dear to her. "I am very much. Even more so now that you are near!" She reaches for his hands and, as their palms touch, a flower springs to life at her neck.

"And you, Deacon? I trust you and your beloved are having a wonderful time as well?"

[grimstalkr]

bird hunters - flood hunting team

When picked to go hunting Tharja truly hadn't expected Ephidel and Julius to be the ones picked alongside her. She knew little of either of them but she did know that the one time she'd met Julius he'd been rather hostile. Which made her even warier as they were picked to collect food for the others. Her boots were soaked and the ends of her skirt dragged as they traversed what little ground they could to where there were birds to hunt. The eerie silence was made worse by their strange surroundings. She figured speaking so early on in their hunt would just scare their prey away.

Once settled Tharja crouched to bide her time, letting the birds slowly get used to their collective presence. By the time the birds were settled Tharja was more than ready to strike. With a sudden burst of magic, Tharja managed to strike a bird down, watching as it dropped from the magical overload. She was quick to hurry over, snatching it up and looking toward her teammates. Tharja held it up, motioning toward the gull-sized bird she'd managed to down.

She hoped her teammates were doing alright. The water was frustrating to her beyond belief. If she slipped even a little bit she'd drown. She certainly hoped neither of them fell in. Could Ephidel swim? Could Julius?

@disgracedvessel @artificidel

[swiftscion]

i want to see someone get shot 🥰 - team 10 iron round

Larcei tries to protest against Deirdre’s scolding--tries to put up her arms in defense and come up with some reason or another to justify her suspicions. Isolation leads to suspicion, she would have said, or She was holding a strange magical artifact! But as though this dream wishes to put their feud aside, the arena shifts. Rustic bars, dusted floors, and simple wooden seats all vanish without a trace. The smell of blood and sweat in the air is gone, giving way to something more sterile. The playing field widens. Metal plating covers the ground they walk on, streaks of blue energy coursing through the floor. For lack of a wall and iron gate, a similarly colored bubble surrounds them. It seems to hum with life, appearing translucent but definitely solid. It is a force field, meant to keep their fight contained. On the other side of this field remains their audience, though their accommodations have been upgraded. Their seats of matte-black chrome are padded using some soft and alien material, and they hover in the air, so that everyone can have their perfect view. It is a setting totally unknown to little Larcei--far beyond even the scope of her imagination. 

And when she looks at her hands, expecting some powerful weapon of a similar era, she finds nothing. Not even the tingle of magic at her fingertips, not even the flow of mana in her veins. “GUESS I DON’T HAVE A WEAPON,” she tries to mutter to herself, but speaking below a shout has been made an impossibility. Her voice, regardless of how much she tries to control it, rings at a deafening volume--each word pounding against the eardrums of all unfortunate enough to hear. But strangely enough, she doesn’t seem to notice. 

“BUT I’LL BE DAMNED IF WE LOSE BECAUSE OF THAT! YOU!” and again, she points to Lucina, “ENOUGH STANDING AROUND! IF YOU’RE REALLY ONE OF US, THEN YOU’LL FIGHT TO GET OUT OF THIS PLACE! ATTACK THE ENEMY; GIVE THEM EVERYTHING YOU’VE GOT!”

Larcei uses Rally with her Booming Voice! Lucina receives +6 speed and +3 luck for one round!

The enemy in question is not so easily felled, however. One, evidently the leader, towers over our heroes with limbs of great mechanical might. Its entire body is cased in metal armor, but the sheen around that seems to provide even more protection. It, too, is of the sky-blue color seen on the floors and walls around them. Each of its shoulders holds a missile rack, and strapped front-and-center is an intimidating gatling gun. Of course, this technology is foreign to Larcei, but she isn’t the kind to be willing to mess around and find out with strange devices. Especially when those devices are pointed at her. 

Three nodes surround it, each a futuristic pod of robotic material and circuitry. At their cores is a similar blue light, and evidently, they are connected to the main body. After taking a look at them, Larcei doubts even Lucina could hold her own. She turns to another ally.

“YOU TOO, LADY DEIRDRE! YOU TRUST HER, RIGHT? THEN BACK HER UP IN BATTLE!”

Larcei uses Ruse with her Booming Voice! Deirdre receives +3 speed and +1 luck for one round!

UP NEXT: @exclted @allegreta

[twistedisciple]

[ Embrace ] + [ Dip ] Wasn't this that human he fought down in Abyss? Or maybe that hasn't happened yet in this timeline. Regardless, hopefully Griss wouldn't mind how rigid Ephidel's moves were when they are matched in the dance line. The morph effortlessly dips the other low. "Your scars look lovely in the moonlight."

"Huh?!" Was that supposed to be a pickup line? Or was this guy one of those misguided kids running around with the romanticized ideas of fell worship that he'd met earlier in the night? Either way, the suddenness and the absurdity both are enough to distract Griss from the dip until his back cracks and he's staring up at a pair of gold eyes set in a moon-pale face, mask-like in its pallor and lack of expression. His jaw falls slack, confusion notching a line between his brows. No, there's something different going on here. The man reminds him of the Corrupted, somehow. Except that skin of his is too smooth, too perfect. Inhumanly so, but not like the undead.

When the shock finally wears off, a wicked look takes its place and Griss claws his hands up to the man's lapels, digging his fingers into either side and dragging himself up closer. One shift off-balance and both of them would topple to the ground.

"Want some to match?" he purrs, for now effortlessly as he clings half-suspended from the other man's neck. "We can trade; I'll cut you and then you cut me."

[allegreta]

a kiss stolen away in a corner, ignoring crowds

Leanne holds tight to Ephidel's hand, weaving through the crowd to find a place of respite in a wayward hallway. Parties are lovely, but the emotions of everyone at once is so much, and she would like to have some time to feel Ephidel alone, thank you very much.

Away from the partygoers and in the comfortable quiet, Leanne takes a moment to study Ephidel's face. They're stoic as always, but the faint affection that thrums from them is something she wants to soak in all she can. They really are a pretty individual, she thinks as she runs her free hand through their ponytail.

"Ephidel...is it okay if I try something?" The feeling tugging at Leanne's heart is impossible to ignore, but she does not wish to overwhelm Ephidel. He nods, though, following her lead as he's been doing all night. He is powerful, strange, something she does not fully understand, and yet he trusts her, takes her words in like she is an oasis and he is a wanderer in a strange land. "I would like to kiss, again."

Another nod, and she moves her hand from theirs to their cheek. Their skin is warmer than normal, no flush but where it is usually cool to the touch it emits a gentle heat. It's exciting, and she squeezes her eyes shut as her lips meet theirs. They still don't seem to know what to do, but they follow her lead, moving their lips back against hers, awkwardly mirroring her arm positions and bringing them closer. Kissing is completely foreign to them, it seems. Leanne will do her best to teach them, then!

"You can kiss in a lot of different ways." Leanne tries to keep her voice steady as she takes a moment away from kissing to catch her breath. She tucks a strand of hair out of her face, studying Ephidel's expression. Minuscule differences, but there's an implacable change. They look intently at her, interest written all over them. The beginnings of joy twinge in their soul, a feeling she's hardly felt in this caliber for them before. She wants more. "I've only read about this one, so we'll have to learn together."

Back in she goes, this time parting her lips and letting her tongue snake through. At first Ephidel does not open his own mouth, but he learns quickly, his own tongue entering the scene and finding Leanne's. They explore each other's mouths, hands beginning to roam elsewhere. Ephidel no longer mimics her like a mirror, though he still shadows her movements. She can hear their breathing; a rare feat, and if she focuses, distinct small whines. It's intoxicating, to be able to cause this.

"Mm..." Leanne doesn't want to fully stop kissing, so she mumbles her approval during a lull. Ephidel pulls her closer, almost as if they are protecting her. She likes the feeling of it, and evidently so do they. Leanne does need to breath, though, so she has to separate eventually, panting against the morph's shoulder as she grasps for their hand. "Do you like it? I do. I would like to do this more, if you would."

[nabataprophet]

under the sea | team flood

The concept of a land submerged under water is altogether not entirely foreign, even to someone like Sophia, who has only recently left her village. The reason? Put simply, the temple in Arcadia where Archsage Athos entombed his Divine Weapon had a similar defense mechanism to keep out intruders. Of course, the passageways weren’t submerged all of the time, unlike here, where the water seems to be a constant. And if there is nowhere to go but the water, then into the water they will have to go.

Sophia takes a step off of one of the few buildings not completely submerged under the water and allows herself to sink into the water.

Opening her eyes under the water, something glittering catches her attention and she swims over to investigate.

[roll 1d10: 2. roll 1d20: 11. roll 1d10: 6. 6 tokens gathered!]

Emerging like some sort of deep sea creature, sopping wet hair spreading out around her like seaweed, Sophia places a small pile of tokens on the edge of a roof, where two people(?) stand waiting.

“...Here.”

Without waiting for a response, Sophia sinks back into the water.

@artificidel @cursedbluebird  @etoilerrante 

[aimlessarchery]

an exploratory kiss, testing the waters between them; i can kiss you in an interesting and peculiar way

"No, no, no. You're supposed to be kissing somebody, not blowing out a candle." Python squints disapprovingly through the dry air that puffs over his face. A soft, pliant sigh is one thing, but Ephidel's lips are pursed tight like a fish. He'd taught the guy what a birthday is. Demonstrating a kiss is proving far more trying. "You've gotta loosen it up a little. Just go with the flow." A hand rises to Ephidel's cheek, stroking a thumb by the corner of his mouth in a bid to relax. Once his lips are slack enough to no longer qualify as puckered, Python meets them again. "…There. That's a little better." Still a bit…lifeless, but an improvement nonetheless. He pats Ephidel's pale cheek in facetious approval. "You'll be a casanova in no time, I'm sure."