who the fuck are you (...you?)
starter for @thelordoftheair @lethalbeautyofetruria, and @progenitorheart
The older, bigger Claude finally breaks the silence, “You can stop glaring at me over the glass, me.”
Me, he says. Claude scoffs, opens his mouth to retort, but he doesn’t manage to get a single word out before the older Claude continues. “Yeah, I know you don’t trust me. Give it a few more years, you’ll be better at hiding it.”
Deflating like a popped balloon, Claude has no choice but to admit defeat, sulking as he sips more of his water and lets his eyes wander around the tent. Most of the decorations and furniture are unquestionably Fódlan, but Claude spots glimmers of Almyran flair in the fabrics used and the bits and pieces of wyvern armor laying disassembled on the floor. This early in the morning, the older man must have meditated an hour ago or so.
All five of them–the two Claudes, Louise, Tibarn, and the male Byleth that came with them–sit on cushions on the floor, a bowl of grapes in the center between them for all of them to share. Breakfast, then? Reluctantly Claude leans forward and picks a grape, rolling it in his fingers, hesitant to take a bite.
Of course, the older Claude quickly notices it. “Go on, you can eat it. I’m not out to starve you guys. I’m just... trying to understand what’s going on. Same as you all, I assume.” The older Claude glances around the group. “Well, of course I recognize you, Teach. I almost forgot how you looked with the blue hair. But you two...” He looks at Tibarn, then Louise, frowning. “I’ve never seen you before. What’re your names? And....” He looks at Tibarn’s wings in particular. “Are- Are those real?”
punting this to either @thelordoftheair or @lethalbeautyofetruria!















