#jehannanmage

[flowerofgoneril]

strings of fate

With exams right around the corner and warm weather, it is difficult to stay focused. Maybe a little break wouldn’t be so bad? With the Great Tree Moon in session, trees’ leaves have turned a pastel pink. A little ways out of monastery grounds lies a large tree pink with leaves and… ribbons? A petite merchant with a sack twice her size informs you these ribbons are people’s wishes and hopes tied to the trees ribbons. She goes on and on about fate and destined love. She pushes a pink ribbon your way, insisting you give it a whirl. What’s the worst that could happen? [Grants Faith +1]

Pink trees, pink ribbon, and a romantic legend of fate and destined love? The second Hilda caught wind of the rumors she knew she just had to be there. It's everything she loves in life! She could wear a cute pink dress and tie some of her own ribbons in her hair just to match the pretty tree! And if the rumors really are true and this ends up being as romantic as it sounds, well, there is a certain conversation that a certain someone promised they'd have upon returning.

It's been a few days since they returned from Shambala. Hilda definitely needed some time to decompress, bath, and not get out of bed for anything. She figures Ewan probably could use the same. But now she's feeling better she guesses and a cute little strong with a cute guy seems like it could be the perfect pick me up.

She's quieter than normal when she finally finds Ewan and her smile is somewhat forced. They'd both been through hell down there. How exactly are you supposed to greet someone after that?

"Hey," she tries. This really shouldn't be this awkward. "I heard about this tree and these ribbons and they sound like the might be kind of magical. Do you want to take a walk with me?" She doesn't know if there's any magical properties to the ribbons but she knows Ewan and she knows that's sure to pique his interest even if the chance to spend some time with her doesn't.

@jehannanmage

[resurrectionpact]

Watching the man continue to walk around like he didn't almost throw the entirety of Magvel into a dark age continues to prove grating. And yet, it's not like the walking dead has done much of anything suspicious since he's gotten here.

(Though some might argue that that in itself is suspicious enough but... that's a train of thought for another time.)

Arms crossed, Ewan steps into Lyon's path.

"I still don't trust you."

A pause. Maybe Lyon didn't care about gaining his trust one mite, and why should he? Ewan was just some nobody, some kid traipsing about alongside the twins' forces. Ewan cares to make his thoughts known, regardless.

"But tell me you'll look after Mitama, Knoll, and Henry while you're out there, and maybe there'll be a fraction of hope for you yet."

A journey into the crypts beneath the monastery would have been an interesting adventure any other time... but the thought of descending underground and discovering ancient ruins brings troubled memories. His initial experiments into the Time Shear, the night he and Fomortiis first met, the Dark Temple where he died and was revived...

Fomortiis roils once again in his heart, and Lyon presses his stained hand against it. Things are happening too quickly, he thinks to himself. I can hardly catch a break–

He nearly runs into a familiar face: short, flaming-red hair, the boy from the Ethereal Ball. As he stands in Lyon’s path, crossing his arms, talks about trust and hope... Shame fills him. Shame. And frustration. Indignance, arising from that.

[ This boy is far smaller than he thinks himself to be, yes? Naught but a speck of dust in the wind. It’s so rare that we agree on things these days. It warms this heart of ours. ]

Lyon steps forward, and forward again, closing in on the other boy. He's never considered himself tall before, not next to Ephraim, but he easily towers over this one, casting a shadow over him.

A pause. Then, "If you don’t trust me, then my word should be useless to you."

There’s more Lyon wants to say, and slowly, softly, he says it, his words halting as they are chosen carefully in spite of Fomortiis’ whisperings.

"Do you wish to hold power over someone and watch them cower beneath you? Or.... is it your fear that brings you here, spitting fire and raising hell in hopes that you’ll drive me away? ...Regardless of your goal, I am no longer someone to be intimidated, nor... cowed into accepting the demands of a stranger. Now, if you will... if you please... stop treating me as such."

There’s even more Lyon wants to say. He closes his eyes as he quells the Demon King inside him. He doesn’t need that one’s help, not anymore. His words, his thoughts, will always be his own.

"I will not waste our time begging to be in your good graces, or to be worthy of the hope you speak of. Determine for yourself where I lie between your ideas of hope and hopelessness. If I am beyond your hope, I wouldn’t begrudge you–across all the unforgivable sins I’ve committed, even I’d understand your feelings. But,” Lyon’s voice hardens as he places as much authority in it as he can. “do not presume yourself to be the arbiter of my fate. It's the hope and trust that I place within myself that drives me forward. I am the only one who will determine my path, and I will not allow anyone to determine that for me. No one, not you, not even Ephraim. Even with the world against me, I will not lose sight of my goals. Not this time."

Lyon knocks against the other student’s shoulder as he moves past him. He makes a move to leave, only to stop and look back.

"I've known Knoll long before you, you know. The others, Mitama and Henry, yes?" "I will do my utmost, as I would for any ally. There was no need to ask.

“Stay safe. ...Don’t go looking for trouble.”

[macawbre]

{ found family || Ewan & Henry

Hot fevers ran cold when you never cared for yourself the way you should in wartime. There was no reliability afforded unless the environment around you allowed for kindness, companionship, a murder of crows, and maybe a little bloodshed across enemy lines. But the special thing is that kind of applied even outside of war— the very nature of human beings needed a very long list of stuff that rounded back to... family. Really. And friends. And like, that in-between found family you can garner after being a little extra kind. Now that he was a little older, a little wiser, it was about time he passed on that comfort to others when he could. Murders and bloodshed included in the package, nya ha ha!

There was this nice little number he liked to do whenever time permitted, which were these one-on-ones with particular students who he felt could be receptive of a one-two-danceroo. The mushy stuff that he was never good at, but like, make it FUN. Chuckling to himself, his laughter filled the room like chimes. "Weeeellll, Ewan... was it? Did you want to check out the cool Plegian dark magic I have to offer? I heard you've been making rounds in all the wrong places. And by wrong, I mean right."

"So there's this special tracker spell that can do some hefty sifting on anybody. If given the right information, that is. Want to try it out for yourself?" He hummed, laying out the foregrounds for a written sigil, right on the wooden oak floor of his office.

"All I need is to hear everything you can tell me about this person, and I'll practically find out when and where they last cried in the rain! Or danced in the sun! Ahaha~"

@jehannanmage 

[vonvestra]

Song of the Sea [Sea Team C]

event starter for @jehannanmage, @hungrymage, @blarflame, & @shrinethief

Hubert hadn’t really expected anything to come out of Morgan’s theories. Dark magic leaking out of the ground? The reactions of strange flowers? Nonsense, if anyone had bothered to ask him (though he’s certain his expression had said more than enough). However, it was perhaps more surprising that anyone else had even bothered to humor, let alone draw a whole crowd. He had joined only to see what the huge fuss was about.

When he opens his eyes, the entire city has been pulled underwater. The saltwater burns at first, and he searched futilely overhead for the shimmering surface he believes should be there. But the ocean stretches on into endless blue. His chest tightens when his breath begins to fight its way out of his lungs, but still he wills himself not to panic even as the bubbles rise in a flurry before his blurred vision.

He can’t die here. Lady Edelgard--

He exhales sharply on instinct, but the flood of salty water does not choke him as he expects it to. Something constricts around his neck. A necklace, his fingers assess. Somehow, he can breathe here, and this must be the reason.

As the threat of death ebbs away, clarity returns and Hubert sweeps his gaze across the sunken Imperial palace. Is he dreaming, he wonders. There is no way Enbarr could fall into the sea in such a way.

Nearby, he finds his companions regaining their own bearings in the water. He’s glad for his own experience with the ocean, and kicks out to reach them.

If Edelgard had ended up here...

“Can you swim?” he tries through the water and finds that his voice comes out clearly enough. “If this is a trap we’ve stumbled into, then there must be a way out nearby.”

After all, no one had the power to create an entire ocean... did they? The illusion had to be smaller than it seemed.

[yewfallen]

@jehannanmage  ( cont. )

  So he'd been blocked. A stray thought enters his mind to strike the redhead in the side and open up an opportunity for him to shoot more easily, but Febail tamps that down. No. He's not here to try and incapacitate one of the younger players here.

He instead tries to hit the puck to the side and creating a new opening that way, but the mage follows him quickly there too, blocking him once more.

[ febail 1d3 roll: 3! ]   [ ewan 1d3 roll: 3! ]

“ Hmph. You're pretty good. ”  He's impressed though a bit impatient too. Enough to spare another word, but this can't keep going on forever, can it?

[ febail 1d3 roll: 1! ]

He tries something different this time, using his stick to try and force the medallion up into the air and perhaps strike it that way. There had to be a way!

[encursed]

⛸ "Wooooosh!" As he flew by, Ewan smile bright. He'd been meaning to talk to her again - the sender of the letter he'd received during the monastery's campaign of devotion. Now seemed as good a time as any. "Do you like skating?" He offered her his hand. "It's fun, isn't it?"

fleeting snow 2021

           There are few things in life that Veronica would ever consider to be fun— going out for a ride on her horse, drinking tea, reading a good book— but as she stands shivering in the middle of the frozen lake, knees buckling and lips chapped, she can say for certain that ice-skating was not one of them.

          “No.” The princess replies bluntly, staying statue-still so as to not slip on the ice, “No, not at all.”

          The chilling wind that blows from his quick whizz by is enough to make her sniffle. She wraps her scarf tighter around herself and huffs. The princess will never understand how sliding across a frozen lake could bring out so much joy from the student. More than that, she will never understand why Ewan seemed to want to share that joy with her of all people.

          Veronica scoffs at the hand that is offered to her. 

          “...Ewan.” she says stiffly, “If I take your hand, you must know that I’ll be dragging you down with me if I fall, right? And I will fall, by the way. I am in no shape for this.”

          Her eyes narrow down into slits, curving downwards as she furrows her brow and crosses her arms.

          “Do you want that? Will you find that... fun?”

[amitieos]

[ roll: 14 ] The game is winding down, albeit at the same time cranking right up - the score is tied, tensions are high, it could be anybody's game. Ewan looks to his teammates. He's not altogether sure what they're doing. (He can't really talk, having himself been stuck in one of the nets just a few short moments ago but. Nobody will remember that. Surely.) (Wait no, it's Mitama that helped him out - it's Never Getting Forgotten.)

Again, the crowd cries for violence, and at this point - tired, agitated, and hungry for another taste of the spotlight (that first goal had felt SO GOOD), it's starting to sound more reasonable than less. Sort of.

He sights the puck again, homing in on it, but a flash of green intercepts. It's Elincia again... She had seemed quite friendly earlier. Maybe she will forgive him a small nudge. And so he steels himself, waits for her to be passing a bale of hay (it seems less Rough than the other options) and makes his move, aiming for a full body check.

But is it just him, or is she a bit. Sturdier than anticipated?

(!roll d20 result = 18)

It's been a gruelling day on the ice. There’d been more than a handful of bumps and scrapes, syrup and oil coated parts of the rink and the crowd and cheerleaders were sadly, calling for violence. She’s happy to see her classmates enjoying themselves but the atmosphere seemed to be going to their heads a little.

Focusing on the match at hand, she watches Kris and Mitama chasing the puck and positions herself to the side of the field, ready to intercept. It flies out in her direction and she’s about to go for it when she notices she’s being watched. She hears the glide of skates across the ice first and braces herself for impact.

"Not this time!” Elincia thinks to herself as she pushes back forcefully, refusing to fall once more.

In that moment, Elincia realises she’d perhaps been a touch more assertive than intended. Instead of chasing the puck, she leaves that to Mitama and twirls around to find Ewan on the floor.

“Oh goodness! I’m so sorry!” She offers him her hand and whilst she feels incredibly guilty it was... a little exhilarating. “Are you hurt?” Elincia asks the mage in a panicked voice. “Please, allow me to help you!”

[princessmacedon]

♣ - "Maria. Do you trust me?" It comes out of the blue. Regardless, he knows full well it's hard to say no when he's staring at someone the way he is, eyes full of innocence and bright-eyed curiosity. He's been wondering lately. He's been getting stronger. Maybe even strong enough to-- "I need you to run at me and jump."

“Ewan?” The answer is as swift and unexpected as the question that warrants it. “Yes? Yes! I do!” She trusts him enough to believe he wouldn’t ask her such a question so suddenly for something truly serious, at least, and finds herself newly signed up for whatever plan he’s concocting in that mysterious mind of his. The request that follows, however, gives her pause. He needs her to... run and jump? But why is she jumping? 

Oh, well. She’s already told him yes, and even if she falls, she isn’t a cleric for nothing. 

“Here I go!” With a face oddly full of determination, the little princess takes a few steps back... then runs towards him and jumps, just as he had asked, eyes squeezed shut. Ewan will catch me, Ewan will catch me, Ewan will catch me... And she feels her skirt fluttering, her boots yet to meet the ground even as warm arms encircle her. She was spinning! 

“Hee hee!” Her chin rests atop his shoulder, soft laughter tickling his ear. It rings out in the shape of a smile (do sounds have shapes? oh, but you would understand if you heard!), and she lets herself simply enjoy the feeling of the world condensing into one small point of warmth. “Was this good enough?” A rhetorical question punctuated by another peal of laughter; had she been able to at that moment, she would have peered into his eyes to see if the unspoken question in them had been answered, or if a thousand more had duly followed. For now, however, she was satisfied to simply let him spin her around just a few seconds longer.