#incendiums

[dcviated]

@incendiums replied to your post “He is caramelizing onions today. To freeze them.”:

{ Mist vc: you sure are living life...

Something about that tone... it's not chilly outside, so why are the hairs on Raguna's neck standing at attention?

"You.. think so? I guess it's not too exciting to watch, but thinking about the soups I can spruce up later puts a few feathers in my chest."

[fillespreferees]

@incendiums

Growing up in the Spirit Forest Village had never been simple but, as Cigyun grew into adulthood, it became impossible.  With only her caretakers for company, she’s grown restless.  The air began to suffocate and the treeline began to close in until there was only one thing she could think to do to remedy her situation and, on the night of her eighteenth birthday, Cigyun ran away.

She knew the risks.  She’d been told her whole life about the curse of her blood.  She knew what would be done to her if her Loptyrian heritage was discovered.  But she could be careful!  She could keep it hidden!  And truly, she had been willing to risk it all for a taste of the freedom denied to her by the circumstances of her birth.

It was still an impulsive choice.  A moment of teenage rebellion without planning.  And now Cigyun finds herself cold, hungry, lost, and alone.  It is not the glamorous and exciting life she had imagined for herself.  She is free to see the world and live as she pleases but she had not considered what she would need to take care of herself.

After days of travel, she happens upon a tavern and inn.  It’s clearly been established to give travelers a place to rest off the main road.  As night rolls in, the skies open up and rain begins to pour down.  She cannot imagine spending another night out under the open sky in weather like this and her belly does grumble loudly.  Drawn by the lights inside and the smell of cooking food, Cigyun ventures inside.

She avoids eye contact as she enters and pretends she does not notice the way men stare as she approaches the innkeeper at the bar.  “Please sir, I only have a few gold pieces but I can cook and clean.  I just need a place to stay tonight.  It doesn’t even have to be a bed!”

A stranger leans in with a wicked grin and takes hold of her by the arm.  “No worries love.  Keep your gold and come share a bed with me!  I’ll keep you warm all night long.”

“Th-that is kind,” she stammers as she tenses, “but I can’t.  Please.  L-let me go!”

[sarenradiant]

@incendiums​ inquired ( prompt ) ;  [ UNSENT ] ( to Scanlan ):   a letter written for the recipient, but which the writer ultimately never sends for reasons that the writer conceals, or may reveal within the letter itself.

Scanlan,

     This will never be read by you, even when I die. In fact, I have no idea where on Tal'dorei you are ( if you are even on Tal’dorei, that is ). Which leaves this written word useless, but I don’t really give a fuck at this point. 

     Your tantrum caused a lot of chaos between the group, and everyone keeps giving me this pathetic look of pity, that I do not need. I’m happy to know that they knew you meant a lot to me, but I don’t appreciate my identity being linked to yours in this type of strong suit. Am I mad, yes. Do I want to punch you, definitely. Would I do anything to keep you from leaving, absolutely ( to a certain extent ). But, you are your own person, as am I. If this was truly something you desired to do and wanted in your life, I respect that, but to bring it out in such a way wasn’t necessary. To also not include me in this conversation was dead-ass cowardly.

      I think I have every right to be pissed about it, considering the letter you gave me all those months ago. I thought I deserved the courtesy of a reason or a conversation. Maybe I thought I meant more to you. I guess I don’t.

     I hope you find what you are looking for out there with Kaylie. I mean that. Please find it in your heart that you are important to this team, and that your presence is crucial. Without you, most of our team wouldn’t have gotten this far and I don’t know what is coming, but it won’t be the same. 

-Pike

[pathofemblems]

✶ · ⊰ @incendiums ⊱ · ✶

It's torturous, the way Inigo continuously toyed with him. The looming cash in on a favor he himself offered stifled him on the daily, making every little thing just an extra level of uncomfortable. The very same way he tensed and postured when an enemy was in his vicinity was now his initial reaction whenever Inigo invaded his space, leaving his shoulders aching by the time he was left alone. Why, oh why, did he ever offer himself up in that way? And now, though they're meant to be bonding, getting closer on their trip to the tavern, Gerome was so tightly wound up that he couldn't even taste his ale. That laughter, so carefree yet somehow taunting; he couldn't stand it for one more second. Without another word, Gerome stood and took the other by the shoulder, and perhaps harsher than he should have, hoisted him from his seat and shoved him along, right out the door where they could get some semblance of privacy. ❝ I've been patient for far too long. Enough. ❞ The backdrop of people laughing raucously within the tavern interrupted, only serving to further annoy him, and in turn take it out on his ally. ❝ This twisted game you're playing with me ends here. Now, Inigo. I demand you pick whatever damned favor you desire—anything at all—just to rid me of this bind you sadistically enjoy keeping me wound up in. ❞

[dcviated]

@incendiums sent: "oh hello, raguna—" Mist begins normally enough, with a finger calmly wagging through the air. "what can you never have for breakfast?"

"Good morning, Mist." At least, he assumed it was still morning based on how much of the field had been worked so far. Days had a way of blending into each other when he was working dutifully through the week. But a glance towards the sky and the sun arcing across it confirms his presumption.

If only a glance could solve all the mysteries of life. Or at the least a single sentence posed by the eccentric woman.

"Uhm? Well there was that time I ate leftovers from dinner that were a bit heavy and-- wait." Now that has a good look at Mist, there's a particular mischief in her expression. Hoe is planted into the ground and he squints. "That's not it, this is a riddle isn't it."

And he is pretty bad at those. Taking things at face value (and being horribly gullible) puts him at a severe disadvantage. And thus, a wonderful target...

"Raw... no. Is it something like ... ah that wouldn't work either." Mist's expression and anticipation are unnerving. But eventually he surrenders relents. "I don't know, Mist. What is it you can't have for breakfast?"

[timesunder]

The sound of wooden swords cracking against one another, accompanied by grunts and boots fervently moving along the dirt on the ground. If it hadn't been for the swords made of wood, one would've thought a battle between life and death took place with the way both parties were sparring.

Sweat dripped down between her brows, arm rose to wipe her forehead with her sleeve. With heavy breaths being taken while laying down upon the grass hill, she couldn't help herself from the smile that formed upon her lips. " Father. " It was still so.. odd. To see @incendiums alive and well and so.. young. Even despite numerous nights having passed since their first encounter, since she revealed herself as being his daughter, it was still something she'd had to get used to.

" It feels like we're both improving. " Yet regardless of how well a swordswoman she might be or become, sparring together with Chrom, simply spending time, was something she wouldn't ever give up on.

" You never told me that story of how you and mother met. " Now sitting upright, she can't help but raise one brow ever so slightly — a rare smug expression nestling upon her visage. " And if I remember correctly, I did beat you last time. " Barely so, with how determined they both were to win that round. But it was something she was proud of ; to defeat her father while both had given their all. But that didn't mean she would forget about their bet so easily.

[meticulous-mage]

@incendiums continued from here

To be defenestrated by their own experiments — how tedious. To be defenestrated by their own experiments, and then caught by someone who wouldn’t hold his tongue concerning his worries — how time consuming. But, Gregor did have a point, no matter how much Miriel was loath to admit it — no matter how much it discomforted them, this interruption. Sighing, the redhead pulled away from the mercenary’s touch, already overwhelmed enough without unwanted physical contact — friend or otherwise. “Loath as I am to do so, I must credit you with veracity.

“I am no use to anyone — least of all myself — if my own experiments and research injures me.” That being said, however… “But I must correct you, however, based upon an assumption you continue to make — and that I am made quite uncomfortable by.” The scientist didn’t try to force themself make eye contact, knowing that doing so would make the situation worse, but they did set their gaze just to the right of his; as they did so, they reached up to adjust their glasses. “I am not a woman, Gregor, and I would appreciate if you did not address me as such.”

Brusque, but they wouldn’t stand for it.

[museinmultitudes]

❛ come on. it can’t be that bad. ❜ (Henry to Mitama)

Dialogue Prompts | Accepting! @incendiums

Henry did not seem to think anything was that bad, never letting anything affect the smile that always sat permanently in place. Mitama's contrasting frown persisted. Was he correct? Perhaps. But now it was becoming a matter of principle.

"Well it might certainly have been better." Mitama insisted. She held out her hand for him to see. A matching set of cuts on her skin, an indication of the bird's displeasure. "I had helped raised some birds in my deeprealm as a child. I did not expect such a difference in temperament."

She pouted. "It stings."