#clair support

[verseandrhyme]

The battlefield clears as students are felled, one by one. Clair climbs back upon Aethusa, using the brief respite to catch her breath and ease her wounds. Spurring her pegasus into flight once more, she glides over Gronder Field, lance poised for battle once more. Hazel eyes sparkle with excitement as she spots her next opponent and she swoops down, lance extended for a preliminary blow.

( rolled: 1d20 = 2. result = miss. possible dmg output: -0 HP. clair has 4 HP. )

But it seems as she has yet to recover from the blow she received in the battle prior, for her turn is wide and her lance soars well past the young lady. Clair yanks on Aethusa’s reins and goads her to a stop.

“Ho, there, fair lady!” she calls, pointing her lance forward as if preparing for a joust. Perhaps she can play the devastating miss as an opening for talk. “It seems as though we have both bested fate, felled those who the heavens sent to be our adversaries! I commend you strength – how exciting it is, that we are to meet like this! Alas, fair lady, I’m afraid I have no intention to lose – but let us duel with honor, and may the most honorable emerge from this bout today with victory’s golden laurels.”

Mitama takes no damage. Current HP: 4/4.

Mitama has scarcely recovered from the blows the swordsman had dealt and ventured further into the battlefield when she finds herself again accosted by another student. The lance flies past harmlessly, but Mitama flinches away instinctively all the same. The student themselves is unfamiliar, save for the mount they boldly ride. Mitama sighs.

“A pleasure, I am certain. May I ask, if you do not mind, is it a necessity for pegasus knights to present with such a...reverent enthusiasm?” Pegasus knights and their boundless energy. They were to be the death of Mitama some day, she was certain of it. But that day was not now, if she could help it. Caeldori would never let her hear the end of it.

“Oh, the heavens have sent our enemies, have they? I was certain it was the school’s faculty responsible for this charade.” She talks amicably enough, and seems reluctant to strike again so soon after her failed first attempt. That is fine with Mitama, who gathers her own Seraphim at her fingers once more. 

“You must pardon my lack of enthusiasm, of course. I am not overly fond of the battlefield as you appear to be.” Mitama smiles. “Intention is good / But unless you measure up / I am unimpressed.”

Mitama rolled a 19. Crit! Potential Damage: 2.

The spell flies towards the other girl on the tail end of her haiku. Mitama does not enjoy fighting. But that does not mean she is not good at it. “Tell me, does your honor aim better than your lance?”

[verseandrhyme]

❰❰ EMBRACE ❱❱ sender embraces receiver

no Hurt only Soft

"Lady Clai-" Mitama's words are muffled as the other's arms wrap tight around her. Her face is too swiftly pressed against Clair's shoulders to finish her greeting. She near stumbles, but remains upright. Her arms close around the other as well, more out of surprise than anything else.

She...the entire greeting is unexpected. She is not sure how to proceed. Her ears feel warm. "Lady Clair, it is a pleasure to see you again."

Mitama shifts, pulling her face free enough to rest her chin on Clair's shoulder. Her face is tickled by strands of blonde. She does not mind too much, not for too long, and if she closes her eyes it is not as bad.

It is nice. She will not deny that. Unexpected, certainly, but nice. She reminds Mitama of sunshine. It feels like something she has not seen properly in quite some time.

"I hope that you did not intend for us to stand here all day." She jokes. She does not mind, but she cannot imagine what a sight they must make. "Surely we can relocate to somewhere more comfortable."

[verseandrhyme]

Hazel eyes search for a head of petal pink amongst the departing crowd, and ladyknight feels her heart soar as she spots the cleric in those meant to descend below the Monastery, to the catacombs.

“Mitama!” she trills, singsong, racing over to meet her friend before departure. “I have come to bid you farewell. Please, be safe — I worry for you, though I know I shan’t. Any adversaries you encounter will be cowed before your magical prowess!”

Clair giggles at the bold proclamation, and presses a pin of silk into Mitama’s hands. “For you — a good luck charm of my own making. To keep you safe throughout your ordeal. I made an attempt to stitch one of those poems you like so much onto it, though I am afraid I am quite unversed in Hoshidan poetry….”

A bit of fortune / to bestow favors of strength / from your dearest Clair.

“My talent in the literary realm of verse aside, I shall pray for your safety here, at Garreg Mach. Come home safely, Mitama, I shall be waiting for you!”

Her name prompts her to flinch, unexpected in both its suddenness and volume. She pauses and turns and for a second expects a familiar head of blond hair. What she finds is blond and familiar, but not the kind she had hoped for.

"Lady Clair." Mitama's surprise is plain as the pegasus knight approaches her. She had not anticipated her classmate to come find her. It is not bad, but it is unexpected, to Mitama at least.

"Lady Clair, I-" Mitama has hardly any time to admit that she does not feel nearly as indestructible as Lady Clair seems to think before a gift is thrusted upon her.

Mitama is frozen for a moment. The gift is handmade, carefully, and the haiku (correctly written), is carefully stitched upon it. It is lovely. Mitama is entirely undeserving.

"I do not have anything to offer you in return." She blurts out. She hadn't thought of it. "I had not anticipated...thank you, I."

Mitama pauses and takes a breath. Really, she should be better composed than this. "Thank you. I hope fortune stays in your favor as well, and that we are reunited soon."

[despotbled]

@caraidean answered your ask “[@despotbled] Berkut scoffed derisively as he came across Clair. "It...”

“Cleary, your excuse of an education never taught you the meaning of the word ‘meritocracy’.”

Clair looked up from filing her nails with a scowl on her face, ill temper fueled further by the man’s presence. So, this was the kind of words she could expect from him…truth be told, she was somewhat disappointed. She’d been told that, if nothing else, he behaved like a gentleman.

“A lady, and that sham is more of a gentleman than you.” She said primly, sliding her file back into the small pouch on her belt and standing up abruptly. She brushed her skirts cleaned and gave him a small, tight smile. “I bid you good day, then. Clearly you cannot bear to hold a civil conversation with any of us.”

Berkut growled, blocking the doorway and any easy way of escape. “Merit?” he spat, glaring down at her. “You want to discuss that worthless peasant’s MERIT?! Fine, let’s do that, shall we?”

He began listing off Alm’s apparent ‘qualifications’ on his fingers, rolling his eyes practically every time he talked. “Let’s see... He’s a farmhand who’s never seen proper combat before he decided to lead your ragtag group. He’s never seen more than two silver coins rubbing together at MOST over the sum of his entire life, meaning he has no idea how to handle finances -- which, if I’m not mistaken, your toady of a brother still sees to because SOMEONE has to ensure your ragged army has enough to eat. AND he knows how to wave around pointy sticks until he’s victorious. Good for him.”

He sneered at the woman. “Is this all you think it takes to be king? Winning battles? ‘Inspiring’ your pathetic troops? He’s out of his league, and none of you seem to realize that you’re only inspiring him to march forward into his own death at the end of MY lance. A lifetime of herding sheep won’t save him when he’s met with a REAL commander. I only hope you won’t be TOO crestfallen as my blade pierces his heart in front of all of your men. Hah... My only consolation is that, if prior experience is anything to go by, the pain won’t last long.”

[haikusandstareyes-blog]

7. Pecking the cheek.

The wound closed itself under Mitama’s staff. The tension leaked out of her shoulders as the danger had passed. With a content sigh, Mitama leaned back on her heels, heavy eyelids slipping closed.

It was not the usual recklessness that Clair would taunt her into partaking. No flying kinshi had thrown their reckless joyride to a close. Perhaps there would have been more comfort if that was the case. At least then it would be their own doing responsible.

A small skirmish. Mitama had never paid mind to any particular enemy before, not when her job was to watch her allies while they dispatched their foes. Archers though. Seeing Clair’s beast come tumbling to the ground had launched Mitama’s heart to her throat.

They were far from the battle now. Mitama placed her staff down on the ground and wiped her hands. “You should be fine now. You will need rest.” Mitama smiled, riddled with exhaustion. “Our secret rides will have to cease until you are well.”

Clair smiled and said something, but the words were muffled in Mitama’s mind. For a skirmish, their foes had been skilled. There had been plenty of injuries, and likely still more for her to tend to. The cost of magic was exhaustion and Mitama longed to return home and sleep her days away.

There was a pressure to her cheek. When Mitama’s eyes opened, Clair was far closer than she had been, watching her with that charming smugness she often wore. Mitama’s cheeks lit up. She spluttered a moment before grabbing her staff and rushing to her feet.

“Battle rages on / no time for resting just yet / later I see you.”

[haikusandstareyes-blog]

☾ - Taking a nighttime walk with them - Would it be breaking protocol to take her by the hand? As far as she knew, there was no hand-holding protocol in Zofia. Maybe there was in Hoshido. Clair got about as far as grazing her sleeve with her fingers before deciding better of it, clasping her hands behind her back as they walked and talked. There -must- be more steps before that...

She hadn’t noticed the sensation when first she felt it. It was only a moment later, as Clair was saying something, that Mitama realized she’d felt anything at all. She frowned, uncertain. It had been little more than a graze, easy to dismiss as an accident or to overthink as more than it really was. Perhaps Mitama was wrong, and had simply imagined the sensation as well.

But there was something, be it the calm of the night or the moon above them, something provided a pull of daring. Mitama hardly considered herself a risk taker in most things, but surely there was no harm in adventure in the smallest ways. And if she was wrong, mortification was short lived. Clair would eventually return to Zofia anyways.

Mitama cleared her throat. “The night is cold, is it not? A shame that I had not thought to bring gloves along with us. My hands are cold with no remedy.” Her face felt warm. It countered what she was saying unpleasantly.

[backswordforhire-blog]

"But I don't believe I have ever actually seen you wielding a proper sabre..."

Saber frowned at the Zofian woman. Couldn’t recall her name, but he remembered seeing her during that whole mess. He scoffed and crossed his arms. “Don’t imagine you’ve seen me do much of anything with that lad dragging you round the other side of the continent.”

He’d heard plenty of jokes about his name before. The lass was pulling nothing new. Still, he could be a little petty. He rapped on the strange helmet she wore. “Don’t you fliers use lances anyways? You even know the difference between a sabre and a rapier?”