#kingofwhitedunes

[ladyleonster]

The Battle of the Eagle and the Lion continued, and Joshua couldn't help a mite of disappointment as Ethlyn crossed his path on her horse; he didn't doubt her strength, or her resolve, but he resented whatever cruel joke was being played on him. He'd rather share a meal or a night with women, instead of fighting them. Sighing as he put those thoughts to the side, he drew his Killing Edge and lunged. [Roll result: 10, BARELY HIT; 0.5 damage dealt.]

Cursing at himself for his bad luck, coming across a mounted enemy while he was on foot, Joshua scored a hit nonetheless; blood gleamed on the razored edge of the blade, a short red line crossing Ethlyn's arm as he took a different grip on his sword.

Before heading into her first fight, Ethlyn takes a moment to silently ask Baldr to help guide her sword. Njorun too. Surely she would watch over her scion's mother. There is so much more at stake now that Altena has joined her and Leif at the monastery. Even if it is simply a mock battle, Ethlyn doesn't think she could bear to let Altena watch her fall again.

She rides up to Joshua and draws her steel sword, eying up his killing edge. "That's a nice sword you've got. I look forward to borrowing it after I've beaten you." Ethlyn smirks and Joshua moves in to attack. Her mounted height helps her avoid the brunt of the attack but the slice of his blade still stings.

"Don't go easy on me now!" the troubador teases with a wink before striking once, twice in succession. "I'm tougher than I look!"

Counter: 17, hit, -1.5 hp

Attack: 15, hit, -1.5 hp

Joshua hp: 2/5

Ethlyn hp: 4.5/5

[swiftscion]

Cutting Class

Let’s be blunt for a second here: singing is not Larcei’s forte. It had never even been a humble passtime of hers. While she didn’t particularly despise the art of music, it was simply overshadowed by more prominent hobbies, like swordplay or weapon maintenance. In coming to Garreg Mach she was somewhat oblivious to the school’s religious nature, so when she had been informed that both reverence to the goddess Sothis and choir practice would be mandatory, she felt rather bitter. A bit cheated, even. So much so that she began to dread those days where her professors hauled her off to the chapel. She would always drag her feet, moan and groan on the way there. She sang through eyerolls and pouty faces, honestly making more of a scene than she needed to. The poor Isaach woman wanted out. 

This leads us to today, a warm and sunny day. There was a light breeze in the air, and the afternoon seemed almost too good to waste away inside. The pleasant weather contributed to this idea, but Larcei began to formulate a plan as she made her rounds to the chapel. The idea was simple: she’d take a spot way in the back and lay low, real low, then dart off at the height of the performance. Everyone would be so distracted with hitting the perfect notes that nobody would notice the absence of her voice in the ensemble, and she’d use her gift of swiftness to ensure a quick escape through one of the side doors. The hardest part, in her eyes, was being lucky enough to slip out when no faculty member was patrolling the area. But she had a hunch that the delightful singing from her peers would be more than enough to ensure them that they didn’t need to check the area around the chapel, so all seemed well for Larcei. When she filed in for practice that day, she made sure she was the last to enter.

What can be said about her plan besides that it went off without a hitch? Well, almost without a hitch, but we’ll get to that. Quick were her feet as she skirted out of sight, leaving at the precise moment when the instructor closed their eyes to immerse theirself in song. Since her presence was made largely unknown (for once) nobody seemed to notice her absence. A sigh of relief breathed from her mouth as she made for the door, but strangely enough it was... Already open? That made her hesitate a bit. Could it be a trap, or just some dumb luck? A quick poke of her head confirmed that it wasn’t Seteth stepping out to later catch her or anything, so she burst through it and began her sprint. The fighter moved with the wind, whirling out of the building so fast her hair and clothes struggled to trail behind. If you blinked, you might’ve missed her. Problem was, the damned girl was too glee-filled to look right in front of her! She had her head turned to the chapel and stuck out her tongue like a bragging child, taking great pleasure in rubbing this victory in to nobody in particular. Larcei didn’t see where she was going, and--

WHAM!

Right into another person! A flash of crimson obstructed her view the mere moment she turned around, but it was too late. She had the unfortunate fate of slamming up against someone else on her mad dash to the rest of the monastery! Her left temple came into direct contact with the character’s body, nearly causing an instant-blackout. Nearly. Thankfully she retained consciousness. But the collision was so hard it sent her flying and onto the ground, landing with an unpleasant thump! It took a few seconds for the dust to settle after the fall. With the speed Larcei was bolting at, she didn’t even want to know what happened to the other party. Not that she could really think of that sort of thing. Her head span for a second or two as she looked up and gripped it. If the splitting pain wasn’t there to distract her and make her wince, she would’ve gone into a panic at the thought of being caught. 

@kingofwhitedunes

[nagaficat]

Continued from here with @kingofwhitedunes

Deirdre hums thoughtfully as she ponders her classmate's words. He does make a fair point but something about it doesn't quite sit with her. Hands now freed from her heavy load of textbooks, she fiddles with the end of a lock of silvery hair as she considers her own opinion on the matter and how best to present it politely.

"While I do agree with your concerns," she begins cautiously, "I must admit that I find your assessment of this academy to be flawed. I think this is an excellent opportunity for myself and my peers to meet others from different walks of life. Why, consider us right now!" Deirdre's warm laugh rings out in the stone hallway. "I had been acquainted with a mercenary in the past but that was before I had been discovered as Grannvale's lost princess. Had I remained in Belhalla, well, I cannot imagine grandfather inviting a soldier for hire to join us for tea!"

[ulircursed]

mission: snake eyes

     This all had very little to do with actual etiquette, much to Andrei’s irritation. Still, hearing the exclamations from the other students and staff around, it did seem as though he’d gotten a reasonable set of tasks. Of his list, only one was a familiar name, but he did know the other two by sight.

     Placing the list into his bag, fingers brushed against a couple of small, hard objects jammed near the bottom. His expression darkened as he pulled the wood-carved dice out. Why did he still have these? He never even paid for them (though maybe Micaiah did), and he was definitely not interested in keeping things dug out of some ‘royal trash heap’ on hand any longer.

     But this could work, and a few measured strides brought Andrei to one of his assigned targets nearby. “You are Joshua of the Black Eagles, if I am not mistaken,” he said, tone proper as he carefully pretended that he wasn’t about to give an absurd present to a near stranger, “I have something for you, which I hope will be to your liking.” He doubted it.

@kingofwhitedunes​

[hrimfabless]

[OFFER] the sender offers food or drink to the receiver.

meet and greet!

          nótt drops the shattered shards of iron and sighs, watching as they fall uselessly to the ground. there are slight tears in her glove from where the lance had snapped during her third training session of the day.  this isn’t going to lead to anything beneficial.  constantly breaking each weapon by simply dealing a few easy strikes to air will cause the dissatisfaction of her professors as well as the inability to practice properly.  as much as she wants to wield hrímfaxi instead, she won’t.  while built especially for her, she needs the taste of something different.

          and yet, the jötun princess finds herself twirling hrímfaxi not even five minutes after the thought has finalized in her mind.  it’s incredible; this feeling of control nótt has as she carries the lance, slicing through wisps of air and committing herself to a dance she’s memorized through muscle and limb.  hrímfaxi cuts through the night’s cool breeze, shifting its direction and moving it to her bidding.

          leaves crunch behind her and nótt swings her lance once last time, lowering it with a frown.  the clearing beside the monastery is empty, or was empty.  she turns as she speaks,   “   is there an issueee.   ”

          it’s his grin that she sees first, words traded for an incoherent whisper at the sight.  nótt stares, frozen, unable to do anything but watch as the man approaches her with a bottle of water in hand.  when he nods to it, he speaks; a refresher, something to ease her body after such hard work.  and she nods, smiling as she takes it from him.

          “   ...thank you,   ”   nótt says, nodding for austri to stay put from where he watches on a tree standing on the outskirts of the small clearing.  the water is cold, she can feel it through the tin material of the bottle.   (   jötun princess gathers her emotions before they chip away at her voice.   )   “   you’ve been watching me, no?  have you brought any other refreshments?   ”   but by the looks of it, it doesn’t seem like so.  oh well, water is fine enough.  this act of kindness is met with an even brighter smile, nótt pats joshua on the cheek after setting her lance on the ground, blade down.

          “   it’s pleasing to see that some of the men here understand when to serve and aid; i recognize you from my class, joshua, if memory serves right.   ”   of course, she knows his name.  she’s memorized most, if not all, of the names of her classmates.  even those outside of her house.   “   though, shouldn’t you be resting at this hour?   ”

[minorindech]

[ GUIDE ]: in the process of guiding the receiver through a crowded place, the sender’s hand protectively grazes against the small of their back

[ TUG ]: the sender tugs the receiver close against them by resting a hand against the small of their back, pulling them flush against their body.

touch as gentle as glass

It was over the second Bernie felt an unfamiliar hand on her.

Sometimes father was too busy to ensure that Bernadetta showed up for her Lessons. Sometimes, he would be too angry, or Bernadetta would have barricaded herself up in her room so well that he had to call in help from some of the guards he had hired around the estate to get access to her room, to grab her and corral her, kicking and screaming on her way down to the basement.

Bernadetta hated being touched. Bernadetta hated being grabbed by anyone who she didn't trust, and the list of people she could trust was shorter than her list of fellow eagles.

Bernadetta couldn't see who was touching her. Couldn't see who was trying to move her along when she was already so frantic and nervous about this public setting. About how many unfamiliar faces were around her. She couldn't see, couldn't identify, all she knew for certain was that someone had their hand on her and there was a sudden pull and no, no, no, Bernie didn't want to go, didn't want to have the lessons, didn't want to go back to crying alone in the dark, empty basement she-

Bernadetta let out a wordless shriek as she thrashed about, trying to get space. Her flailing hand landed on the arm attached to the hand grabbing her and Bernadetta latched on and pulled back in turn. Her blood rushed through her ears, deafening herself to her own screams. Her vision burned white with the same familiarity as the rush of her crest through her blood as she threw her weight and the stranger's over her shoulder.

(Bernadetta didn't see the outcome of her panic, not beyond her fellow student lying on the floor on his back. She didn't stick around to process it either, racing back to the safety of her room.)

[hrimfabless]

moved from here; @kingofwhitedunes

          an arched eyebrow is pulled at the mention of opponents, a word for warriors, a word that she uses, and her mother and dagr, but not men.  though, there is very little she knows of fódlan and its people.  nótt keeps her hand on his cheek, rubbing her thumb gently against the spot beneath his eye.  and she nods as he talks, more so keeping her focus on his facial features rather than his words.  his voice, a rough timbre of sharpness, one that didn’t surprise her due to his... appearance.

          “   aw, a pity, really.  you need your sleep to stay standing after all.   ”   she could advise him to sleep, maybe politely knock him out if he refused, but nótt immediately gets lost in the sound of his laugh.  joshua continues, though, and nótt almost crushes the bottle in her hand at the instance of vulgarity, yet she doesn’t.   (   she ignores the way that her hand almost begins to grip at joshua’s cheek.   )   bandit-hunting?  as in he was following after them?  her thumb stills against his cheek and nótt pauses, turning his voice over in her head until all is somewhat clear.  it isn’t but she can pretend it is.

          when joshua laughs, nótt laughs too, but for an entirely different reason.   “   you... you are too precious!  is this an attempt to level yourself with the knights?   ”   nótt giggles, tilting her head as her shoulders shake slightly in amusement.  he’s silly!  the idea of it is dangerous yet she can’t help but find it adorable!!   “   i grant you my gratitude for lending me the knowledge of the bandits’ locations.  no need to worry, i’ll handle them for you, alright?   ”

          her final statement comes at the exact moment joshua’s question echoes.  nótt stares at him, confusingly yet somehow starry-eyed all the same, before she falls into a fit of giggling.  but they soon fall silent, followed closely by the stern cut of a frown on her face.   “   you aren’t joking.   ”   as if a statement rather than a question.   “   you want me to... aid you in warming up?   ”

          (   it’s a strange request.  unusual.  definitely not something she’d expect, but... she finds herself less surprised than she should be, as his words finally register in her head.   )

          “   which weapon supports you in battle?  and i’m... shocked to hear that women are not active in the means of combat.   ”   disbelief is all too comfortable in her eyes.  as if it’s impossible for her to take note of the actual words coming from joshua’s lips.  she gives him one last pat before moving her hand, eyeing the water bottle and opening its cap.   (   as she sips the refreshment, she wonders if a bandit accidentally hit him too hard on the head.  had dagr gotten to him before nótt could?   )

[frauleindermorgen]

a kiss between enemies who should be fighting~~

"...I'm a mercenary, Mic. Make me an offer I can't refuse."

kiss meme

She's outmatched and outmaneuvered, she knows that. This is exactly why Sothe always told her to stay by his side because while her Purge tome could cleave armies from afar she was nothing with a blade in her back.

She had the higher ground now but, staring down at Joshua as his mouth moves, she knows it is only a matter of time. His sword hand will act before she has the chance to mutter the correct words in the ancient tongue.

So she puts the tome down.

"An offer? Alright."

She moves closer just as he does, tracks the way his gaze falls on the way her teeth skim her bloodied lip. When he's close enough and Micaiah's confident in the foothold her boots have given her in the rocks above she tugs him closer with a hand in his hair, her other on his shoulder as she slots their mouths together. She pulls away after a moment and wipes both her own blood and his from her mouth.

"That's one thing you wanted, yes? I can offer a better exchange of goods from Daein's own coffers if you enlist formally, but you'll have to call me General."