#jasperblion

[hresvelged]

[ TRUST FALL (non-consensual. for both parties involved.)] 

“Let’s see…” Alm mumbles over the small paper meant to serve as clue that he holds in one hand. He was never one for eccentric poetry, yet at least one line in these four appears to serve as any substantial hint.

“Can’t be her, obviously. Or wait no…it could. But how in the world would they know about that detail?! Have they been reading all about u-”

It is in his series of reflections that Alm is kindly reminded to watch his surroundings while partaking in cryptic poems. As it is the stray leg of an abandoned chair - or was it someone’s actual leg? - that trips up Alm and causes him to stumble forward. The best he could do is hold both of his arms out to increase the frame of impact but… Oh gods, is that someone standing right in front of him?

Alm only closes his eyes in partial defeat, hoping the inevitable stumble will hurt him more than it hurts the unfortunate victim.

As she finds herself hiding away her own paper from view of anyone nearby, purple irises of steel stare between the ceiling and her classmate peering intently over what she expects to be an indicator of his own. Edelgard wonders what he is thinking. What they are all pondering. She sits radiantly in a single chair by her lonesome. An emperor treads a path ridden away of love's true desires. She can't take otherwise. She breathes.

And breathes again, until she gasps as her leg snags on something. It hits so suddenly she nearly stumbles out of her own seat. "What was..?" The paper slinks away from her person and crashes quietly on the floor, staring in disbelief as her form collides with another's.

Pushing the chair away with a loud creak on the ground, the house leader stands up prominently and assesses. A beat. Then two, before placing one hand on her thigh and extending the other in aid. "Are you alright? Come now. Stand up," she says. It is a command, but it is also a signal to expect he is well. "I'd normally recommend watching where you walk." A jest, spoken plainly as always with straight-lined lips. "Your physical well-being is much more important than what may be written on these papers."

[ephemeralove]

It’s far from the first move that Alm makes once his bones are all back in one piece, but he remembers it right when he plays with the swords among his belt. Having to return it so immediately is rather upsetting after all of the theatrics…but that is why he keeps this go-around simpler.

Not much time is required to spot the purple-haired girl in the Blue Lions section of the base of tents. He waves with his right hand this time, not his left.

“Hey…guess I spoke way too soon there. Couldn’t even get a swing with the thing before a very, veeeery motivated man decided to clock me out. Well, you know what they say. Return to sender.”

It doesn’t take much extra effort for him to remove the armorslayer from his arsenal, holding it out for Katarina single-handed.

“Doesn’t mean I never tried a practice swing with the thing. It felt pretty heavy, like I’m used to. You said that others from Archanea are different? I’d like to see those too sometime.”

For someone who just lost and broke promise and shoulder alike, he holds a pretty proud expression on his face. “Thanks for the support. Try not to be a stranger, okay?”

He's startlingly casual for a man-maybe-king returning from the field sooner than expected; not even Katarina's swift hand can stifle her quiet laugh before it slips out. Still she tamps the budding smile beneath her fingertips, its curling corners writ more in sympathy than revelry.

"...He must have been very motivated," she attempts to joke in kind. After all, he had been quite the determined opponent himself when she had faced him. Never unkindly (though she suspects her more pugnacious teammate would disagree), but-- yes, very motivated indeed.

Fingers close quickly around her newly-returned sword, more for his sake than her own, though his words drive her to point it toward the ground. ...It does weigh more heavily than one might expect, true. Between a preference for tomes and knives, Katarina had barely considered it. And what of the other Armorslayers she had seen, then? Those odd, hammerlike ends...

"They're more alike than other designs of Armorslayer," she replies with a nod. "Those... might be even heavier." He's bright -- friendly when she's been little more than a stick in the mud. Her hand tightens self-consciously around the sword's hilt ere she stows it away.

"I...!" Before he turns to leave, she finds herself speaking up, taking the step she usually shies away from. "...I, I'll come show you... the next time I find a sword from home...!" (She still feels foolish, speaking up; shame instinctively crawls up her neck with an uncomfortable heat.) "A-and..." Katarina ventures a small smile at that, uncertain but still trying.

"...Thank you. You worked hard, and... take care."

(Especially that last part; for all his insurmountable positivity, that shoulder looks rather unpleasant.)

[ephemeralove]

“Hey… That bandaged arm doesn’t look that good.”

Well, that is one hell of a good opener. It’s not like the both of them know who left such a mark or how it was done. And yeah, it technically wasn’t Alm who dealt the finishing blow, nor is this girl a part of their main classes, but those trivial excuses don’t burn away the guilt. He was the one who cornered her to be finished in the first place, and now he feels the need to owe up to it.

He doesn’t step much closer, nor does he demand to see the wrapped injury in more detail. “My friends tell me that I can get a little too intense when it comes to a duel or the occasional drill in Valentia. Sorry this…had to be one of those times.”

He accidentally laughs at himself for evoking memories of needing to hold back after slamming childhood friends to the ground with sticks as fake swords. But he almost immediately recovers with a return to neutral expression toward the swordswoman. “Anyway, I’m not here to farm more pity points beyond that. Just know that your opponent - Alm - thought you put up a good fight.

“Oh! And, also…” Alm points toward the sheathed sword by her waist. “I asked the tournament staff, and they said we could obtain ‘spoils’ from the winner. And I thought…if you couldn’t see this to the end, then can I at least take your blade in your stead? You, uh, don’t have to grab it if it’ll hurt your hands.”

"Valentia?"

It probably isn't the main point of what he's saying, though it's very kind of him to remember her at all, let alone come and apologize for what is to be expected today of all days. Between the strong personality to her one side and the prolonged fight to the other, she hadn't anticipated it. Still, it is the name of the fledgling country across the sea that first catches her attention-- sharply, surely-- and then the name that comes soon after, vague but insistent.

Alm, Alm... ...Alm of Valentia?

But he treats her here as a fair opponent, one who stood against him on equal footing even if in failure; perhaps a bit selfishly, Katarina would not spoil that for either of them. Nor does it bother her that he laughs, in all his vividness. If he remains bright after all he has surely fought for, then he should laugh as often as he wants. He is worthy of the joy.

"..." Though it is a comfort to see someone besides herself muddle along in awkwardness. It isn't quite a laugh, but when Katarina exhales, there is a softness to her breath and the corners of her eyes, warmer than before and faintly amused.

"...Please don't worry about it," she answers after a beat. "Or... thank you for thinking of me. My name is Katarina. I'm honored that you think so..."

Somehow the tide seems to be turning. There are people now who hold her in some moderate regard, some degree of warmth. She... isn't sure what to make of it. What will it be like, then, when she returns to the veil of suspicion she deserves? The thought keeps her, and despite Alm's kind insistence that she doesn't have to be the one to retrieve the sword, her hands move on their own, heedless of the ache as she removes it sheath and all.

"Here..." Holding it out to him, her eyes follow the line of the blade. Then, struck by passing impulse: "...It's different from the armorslayers of Archanea, but it works just as well. And... you fought and led well, Alm." The corners of her mouth move faintly upward. "...Good luck out there."

[pillarofopenness]

[21 Questions]

“Oh, Sharena! Nice to see you here, too,” Alm nearly bumps shoulders with the Blue Lion while scrolling over his newest literature of interest. He’s only encountered her once before while helping out with reconstruction with the monastery. Not the best time for idle chatter, so maybe now could be better…?

“See this? It’s a book full of random questions. I think they’re meant to get people to know each other better? But like…there’s some in here that I just don’t get.”

To set an example, Alm flips a couple of pages over and squints with tongue out to make out the tiny text. “What’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever bought? I rarely track the strangeness of what I’ve purchased in the past as is. Let alone my entire life.”

Alm looks back at the fellow student. “Well I mean…if you somehow do have a good answer, I wouldn’t mind hearing it. You can hit me back with another one here, if that makes us even.”

“Alm! I didn’t expect to see you here!” An unexpected surprise, but most certainly not an unwelcome one. With the whole ‘random pairing’ thing, she would’ve figured he wouldn’t have shown, what with there being a chance of him not being assigned Celica and all. 

She can’t say the familiar face isn’t a bit of a relief though. Even if they’re... All familiar, technically. Familiar in the sense they’ve spoken before. In this context. This context being Fodlan. Not Askr. Gosh, this is complicated.

“Ooh, fun! ‘Strangest’, huh..?” The princess is already poking her head over the other’s shoulder to read the question herself before he can finish saying it allowed, potential answers already flooding her mind as she taps her chin with a finger. “Well… My friend back home’s a merchant, so she had me buying all kinds of weird things thinking they were an absolute necessity I just could not live without.” An occurrence way more common than she’d ever like to admit. 

Half of it wasn’t even regift-worthy… All that space in her room… gone….. reduced to storage……

“A lot of it was… I don’t wanna say she scammed me, but… yeah she totally scammed me. I caught on though! ….Eventually.” Definitely not because she ended up getting yelled at for spending so much of their funds. She cringes a little at the memory that definitely does not exist because it did not happen. Totally.

cough. “Anyway,” Sharena reaches out to flip over to the next page, pointing down at the first question she sees that isn’t just ‘what’s your favorite color’. “Ooh, how ‘bout this one? ‘If you had to switch places with an animal for 1 day, which animal would you choose and why?’”

[cursedbluebird]

[21 Questions]

He isn’t bored of this question book just yet - kind of impressive, considering Alm never thought himself to be such a turner of pages - so he decides to sic a question to one more person. And the person that catches Alm’s eye is…scarily familiar. But he shakes off the ghost of déjà vu quick, as her hair does not droop nearly as long.

She looks pretty shy. The Valentian double-guesses if this is a good idea or not, before pushing through with confidence. He ensures that the content he has on hand is simple enough before closing in with the inquiry.

“Real quick - What’s your favorite color to wear?” the boy pauses a moment for consideration, before answering his own question. With the hope that doing so doesn’t make it too awkward. “For me, everybody seems to think white or, heh, green would be best for me, but I never mind suiting up in some dark blues.”

Alm nods and stares back at the blue girl. “How about you? If you, uh, don’t mind.”

Marianne looked around, and then back to the speaker. Was he talking to her? She pointed to herself, confused. "Me?! Um..."

She thought for a moment. "I do like blue..."

[heavy-draw]

[21 Questions…?]

He recognizes the affinity of this person even before fully approaching - or more so can easily guess based on her outfit and distance from the rest of the festivities. A faculty member, and one here for business over laughs by the looks of it. The woman wears a very stern expression on her face which…okay, there’s nothing wrong with having a neutral face. But wouldn’t it be better to have fun at a…y’know, place for fun?

“Hey, mind if I break the ice real quick?” Alm cuts over to her, and while he poses the offer as a question, he does not wait for an answer before going through with it. In his newfound book full of questions, one of them is surely enough to open her right up. Maybe this one…?

“What is so fragile that saying its name breaks it?”

Hold on…that’s not a personality question, Alm ridicules himself, now noticing that what he has read off of was the “Funny Riddles for Kids” page. Well, neither of them are kids…so surely she can solve it, right? What this means for the ice-breaking part though…worry about that later.

Alm can only look back up toward the silent women, hoping he won’t be left in the dust.

An unfamiliar voice catches her attention almost immediately, violet eyes settling on a young face that she doesn't quite recognize. Sure, she's almost certain she's seen that green mop of hair flitting about the Monastery grounds, but she's never had a chance to actually approach him-- now's a good of time as any, she supposes, and she ducks her head slightly in a means of wordless greeting. He's outgoing, at least. That saves her the effort, and the immediate question does pique her interest. A riddle, huh? Is he... testing her? Or simply trying to find an actual answer? Either way, she crosses her arms over her chest and tilts her head as she attempts to judge his motivations. He seems genuine enough, though, and she comes to the conclusion that he's just .... trying to make things a bit more smooth in conversation. So she'll indulge him, just this once. "Well.... Considering you just broke it-- I'd say silence." Though the statement sounds harsh, the lopsided smirk that she offers disarms the ferocity of the statement. It's clear that she's joking, not offended by his approach. "Were you trying to figure it out, or was that the first thing that came to your mind?" "If that's the case... I have a question of my own. The poor have me, the rich need me-- eat me, and you'll die. What am I?"

[far-from-common]

[21 Questions…?]

Okay, Alm’s getting pretty used to reading this quirky book by now. He can almost title himself as the sorcerer of soirees! …If all that is needed to kick a gathering off is asking people random questions. But hey, he’s getting into a rhythm here. Why stop now?

“Hey, like the hair,” Alm starts off with the green-haired, regal-looking lady. Realll smooth there. “You have the time for a quick little question? Just something to get the thinking muscles running. No big deal.”

Alm bounces to a random page and, feeling confident enough, goes right for one of the top inquiries. This time, however, his eyes appear to read faster than his brain.

“What is a skeleton’s favorite snack…huh?”

When he glances at the top of the page, he only then realizes he’s flipped straight to the “Incredibly Unfunny Pun Pack.” Why would this book even have a section titled that?

It’s too late to back off now, for better or worse. “Soooo…go on. Guess.”

Yet another new face approaches L’Arachel! He’s holding a book of some sorts, quite intriguing. And he’s quite polite too, complimenting her hair! Then again, looking at him, it should come as no surprise. “Why thank you, it is quite beautiful. Your hair is quite pleasant as well. But enough about that, I am quite happy to help you out with your inquiry! You have come to the right place.” She gives a reassuring, confident smile.

One that gives way to seemingly mutual confusion as the question is posed to her. Despite the wavering confidence, the studious man still continues with the question. Mayhaps he requires assistance with some sort of studies and has heard of L’Arachel’s brilliance with monster related matters? Surely that is it! But… that is quite a difficult question. L’Arachel mulls it over for a while, audibly hmm-ing as she does so. Finally, she straightens out her posture as she strikes upon the correct answer!

“That is quite a tricky question you have posed here, my new friend. Because naturally, one asks themselves, ‘How would a skeleton eat anything, it is merely bones.’ And that is not at all an incorrect line of thinking! If we are speaking strictly as a physical action, then no, I suppose they could not consume anything. However! The trickiness here comes from the wording! It does not ask us about how they could eat, they ask us about what their favourite snack is! Now, this depends once again on a variety of factors. What kind of a skeleton is this? If it is merely the remnants of a person, then it would have none. However, if we are talking about one that is shambling about, it becomes a different matter entirely. Back in my land, some of them are warriors that still possess free will. As such, we ought to consider, what would a warrior enjoy eating? It obviously depends on the type of warrior, so the possibilities are truly endless, but for the sake of giving an answer to the question, let us think of a stereotypical warrior, who would go to taverns and drink and eat to celebrate. His favourite snack would have to be something filling, possibly something a lot of people would consider too big to be a snack. And it would have to be something that a warrior would consider to be an honourable meal, such as a hunted down animal. Therefore, from all these factors, I conclude that the answer to your considerably cunning conundrum is that a skeleton’s favourite snack would be…”

A dramatic pause, confident smirk forming on her face.

“...Spare ribs. I hope that this answer can help you in the future, if you are ever in the position of encountering a skeleton. If you have any more monster related questions I am always happy to offer a helping hand!” She gives him a polite, somewhat theatrical bow. Her genius truly knows no bounds!

[nobilisseoblige]

[ TOUCH UP ]

"Hey! Pretty sure you're part of my class assignments, right?"

Alm states the heads-up before approaching the very well-dressed fellow in front of him. Just in case his positive intentions weren't clear, the Valentian throws in a hearty wave for the occassion.

"I don't believe we've had a good chance to meet considering...uh, the outside of here. Let's leave it at that. Anyway, I'm Alm from Valentia."

Before he could ask for his comrade's name, Alm instinctively reaches out for one of the idle, drooping red laces. "Not that I'm not interested in your own name, but uh...first off, don't you think leaving the ribbons like this is a surefire tripping hazard? No offense."

"why, good to see you!" his own hand flew up, like a firework, to greet heartiness with heartiness until the sky was filled with felicity. such was the nature of robust, warm enthusiasm. it sponged onto his skin like spring time—sage and laurel growing from cracks until nature was due course for overgrowing. " I do believe you are a Black Eagle, as well, are you not?"

"Alm of Valentia." with a neat bow of his head, he ushered new life into their relationship. "I have been away at Aegir for most of this month, but after having been flagged down by another new student—Azelle, if you have met him—I've been eager to meet any new housemates!"

as he tittered, he felt the taut drag of fingers pulling at his long ribbons and canted his head to simply watch the young man sift through fabric like water. "Ferdinand. Ferdinand Von Aegir." idly, he took the other loose ribbon in his own hands, thumbing the alternating sides with admiration. off-white on one side, garnet on the other, like an apple skin casing nature's sweet decadence.

"perhaps for one less nimble!" haughtily, his hands branched like fronds above his chest. "I, however, am rather dexterous. navigating in any kind of outerwear is second nature to me."

his nose flared, pride brimming until it poured from every pore of his body. "perhaps you should try it out? it is a test of nimbleness, deft footwork, and walkable confidence."

laughter sprouted wings. "a noble is composed of many things. ribbons and the pride to wear them are many such instances."