#luxichor

[avemaera]

Her heart stops in her chest.

Blood runs cold, like ice water in her veins; she is no stranger to spirits, deeply versed as in the arcane as she was, but Linoan finds herself beset with a fearful agitation as she watches the man before her, reaching down to collect a stack of documents he'd seemingly dropped.

He was... younger. His features less defined, more softer—but there was no mistaking the scarlet hair emblematic of his house, or the sharpness of his eyes; once more, Linoan finds herself faced with another ghost.

The young duchess swallows the uncomfortable lump in her throat, lips pressing firmly together. She could be wrong in her assumption. It wouldn't be the first time she has erred. And yet, if Deirdre of Grannvale were here, there was no reason why her lord husband, the man who paved the way for Loptous and his ilk, couldn't be as well...

"Do you require assistance with that—" She stumbles on what to call him, deciding to settle on, "...Professor?"

He thought himself alone in his classroom. The quiet almost haunting, save for the autumnal winds echoing within these stone walls. But a sudden gust disrupts his attention and throws his papers to the ground; and as he bends to collect them, he feels eyes on him and a burning along his spine.

That damned mark, always hidden well beneath high collars and crimson tresses, pricks his skin. But he does not react. Only raises to his full height and casts his glance to the door. Light filtering through and haloing his guest. He tries to smile cordially at her, but still standing in shadow as he is, with Maera's blood turning cold, it twists his usual charisma into something more sinister.

"... Not at all." He whispers pleasantly and begins to walk past her. He can't stay here, he doesn't know why.

He pats her head as he leaves, acting as though everything is alright. "Run along to class now."

In the light of the courtyard, his fingers tremble. He clenches his fist to make them stop.

[nappingscholar]

Serios is (not) Dead

Linhardt normally wouldn’t care about an imposter pretending to be a Saint. Surely people must realize that Saint Serios was long dead and anyone claiming to be her was lying through their teeth.

He wished he had that much hope in humanity. To think someone would look at the faker and think, “Hmm... seems legit,” baffled Linhardt. Sadly the imposter had gained a following and why send actual church officials to deal with it when they could send untrained students.

“This is so stupid,” he complained to Linoan. “I feel like this should be self explanatory but... now it’s our problem,”

@luxichor

[princessmacedon]

Linoan was rather endeared by the adorable little flower that had been prancing about the dance floor all evening, and every time she moved past, the duchess's eyes were drawn to her floral dress and scarlet hair without fail.

There's something about the girl's cheerful energy that reminds her of Tina, but with the sort of grace not uncommon of a noblewoman. So when she finds herself standing next to the girl at the refreshments table, the lady of Tahra feels compelled to strike up a conversation.

"The apple tarts are a personal favorite of mine." She suggests, smiling. "You should try them if you haven't already."

"The apple tarts are a personal favorite of mine," comes a voice of guidance and sweet(-toothed) wisdom just when Maria needs it most. Long had she been hesitating at the dessert table and faced with the most dire of decisions: what sweet should she eat next? As tasty as it sounds, she can't simply eat everything at the table, but there is something to be said for trying desserts yourself. What better way to find baking inspiration?

"The apple tarts," she murmurs thoughtfully, a sparkle forming in her eyes as she piles one onto her plate. "Hee hee, they do look yummy! Okay--"

A peek over her shoulder at her savior blows the little princess' eyes wide like saucers, her plate promptly abandoned on the table. The lady standing before her now looks like she's come straight from a fairytale, spun in soft words and a softer smile; Maria, ever the sunflower, cannot help but smile back.

"I'm really excited to try it," she continues, a curtain of crimson brushing her shoulder as her head cants, one arm stretching out to retrieve her forgotten plate. "I like to try sweets and bake them, but I haven't had a lot of apple ones before. Oh! But have you tried the strawberry shortcake? I don't know if it's my favorite, but it's a little bit like a trade, isn't it? Hee hee!"

[starrook]

Exploring the monastery...‎ ‎ Dreamy knights...‎ ‎ Working together...‎

Knights. For as long as Linoan can remember, she has been raised on stories of the Crusaders Njörun and Dainn. Their exploits as pillars of Jugdralian society, and the way they majestically conquered the skies astride their wyverns.

A free spirit, undisturbed by trifles, a valiant knight of the skies who could not be bested…

It is the first image that comes to mind when Linoan thinks of the ideal hero. A legend she has long admired, and once believed to have met in the flesh...

She wonders how he's doing, these days.

"I must say... I am curious." She sips her tea once, setting the cup down lightly. "As one enlisted in the Knights of Seiros, what is your view on knighthood? What drives your determination to fight?"

"Me?" Well, Linoan isn't wrong about Alcryst being a Knight of Seiros, but somehow he never really thought of himself as a knight. "When I think of knights, I think about the ones from the stories and songs... they descend from that canon of strong, brave, noble knights, and they must uphold that ethos if they want to live up to the title.

"I could never meet up with those expectations..." Alcryst adds with a self-deprecating laugh. "But that's okay, I think. I fight to protect the people I care about and destroy the enemies that threaten their peace. So as long as I can do that, I'm content."

[pillarofopenness]

"So it seems we are to be roommates, then. My name is Linoan, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Linoan smiles at the blonde girl as she settles into the inn room that was told to be hers, soon realizing she wouldn't be residing in it alone. It appeared the others of their group had similar arrangements, and the thought of them all having an ever-constant companion at their side would have been more comforting...

If it was not something manipulated by the rules of this world.

As for her bunking companion... the girl was mostly unfamiliar, Linoan mainly recalling her bright demeanor during the group discussion a while ago.

How energetic she was when she showed off her—

Ah.

"You... had one of those gems, did you not? From where did you obtain it?"

Given the number of rooms, a roommate had already been something she’d mentally prepared for. She had it all planned out! Fensalir would go in the corner near her bed (whichever end of the room that ended up being, of course she was gonna let her roomie take first pick of the beds as is only polite of her) so it’d be out of the way enough to give them both a ton of space, while still keeping her weapon within arms reach of only her juuuust in case! And the rest would… Not go anywhere because she didn’t bring anything else with her. All planned out!

Obviously, the semi-teleportation of it all was not part of the plan in any way whatsoever, but that’s fine, she can work with it! A new friend is a new friend, even if they did just kinda. Spawn. Somehow. 

…At least they ‘found’ them…?

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, too, Linoan! My name’s Sharena, and I promise, I’ll be the best roommate ever while you’re here! Won’t get in your way at all!” Sharena sends the mayor a smile right back, bowing slightly to seal her promise of peace into place. From what she knows of Linoan’s kind heart, she doubts she would ever ask for her to shut up and leave; but after all she’s been through?? The least the princess can do is let her know the option for space is there should her bonding attempts prove too overwhelming for her.

“That I do! You wanna see it?” With all this time she’s spending putting the thing in and out of her pocket, she’s starting to think she should just start holding it in her hand at all times. Tape it to the back of her gloves or something, save them all the time.

“I found it on the ground out in the orange orchard over there. I know what everyone else has been saying about them, but it hasn’t been all that weird to me.“ The emerald gleams in the light as she turns it over in her palm for the other to see, but it’s nothing suspicious or otherworldly — not as far as she can tell. Just a regular reflection of the light, just the same as it had been when she first picked it up not so long prior. 

“Though… when I first picked it up, for some reason it reminded me of this one time when I was a kid and my friend tried showed me a spell, but I couldn’t really… control it…? I didn’t think a lot of it at the time, but…” Sharena pauses, voice growing smaller as her grip around the teardrop stone grows tighter. The reflection brings the memory to the forefront once again, but no matter how many times she runs through it, trying to put into words what exactly even she herself doesn’t know without sounding utterly insane… It’s rare she finds herself struggling to express how she feels like this.

“I… I don’t think I ever had a friend that knew magic back then. Much less anyone that ever taught anything like that to me… O-Of course, I could be wrong, you know? I mean, how would I even remember something like that if it didn’t happen? It’s probably not even related, anyway. Nothing to worry about!”

[alluxerim]

grace, freely given

Saint Seiros has come to town! Yep, you heard right. While Garreg Mach’s seen its fair share of impostors in the past, none so far have had the gall to impersonate the church’s founder herself. Whoever this lady is, she at the very least looks and sounds the part - she bears a striking beauty beyond words, and a commanding presence to go along with it. Is she here to stage a coup? Or maybe she’s just after the church-sanctioned taxes… Whatever the case, you need to land this broad and her impressively large following in jail like right this second. [Grants Faith +1]

     Mid-afternoon sunlight streamed through the open window, and Lucius allowed himself a moment of relaxation, the mostly completed plan for his next lesson set on the desk before him. The transition from the ever-traveling mercenary lifestyle to a largely sedentary teaching position did take some time to get used to, but at the same time, he found there was much to appreciate in this new opportunity to meet eager young minds, even to impart what little he could offer from his experience with magic.

     The monastery, too, had shown itself to be a pleasant place, calmness and bustling activity weaving together to form an experience that was lively, yet not too overwhelming. Speaking of which, though... Lucius glanced out the window for a moment, a mix of curiosity and concern crossing his expression.

     Was it just his imagination, or did the grounds seem oddly noisier than usual today? In fact, it was almost as though there was some rally or altercation taking place.

     ...Then again, he hadn't been here nearly long enough to really know all the norms of this monastery, and there could easily be an event he wasn't aware of.

     Lucius dismissed the thought for the moment, instead refocusing his attention as a set of footsteps sounded near the door of his office, followed by the appearance of a figure he recognized as a student from his class.

     "If you're looking for me, then please, come in," he smiled to the visitor, motioning to the welcoming, comfortable chair across from his desk.

@luxichor

[hresvelged]

aloe :   how does your muse handle grief ?

botanical headcanons

She’s grieved enough already when she was younger that there are no more tears of sorrow for her to shed. She bottles it up, trickling into her mind whether or not she wants it to. It’s why a lot of other characters in-game muse about how she appears to come off so cold and distant. Edelgard keeps those feelings to herself and very few people even know the extent of her griefs. She intends on keeping it that way.

When Edelgard is up at night and cannot sleep, she finds comfort in going outside and looking at the stars. It reminds her of freedom and I also imagine a younger her gazed up at them and made her feel less alone because the stars were always there to shine in the darkness.

Now, she takes what was left for her and molds it into her own hands. She doesn’t want to let what she has lost go to waste. She has to steel herself for the future partially because of these past grievances. To let her emotions get in the way would do that a great disservice.

[frauleindermorgen]

There is something solemn about this woman, and yet so bright—she's steel and chill with a splash of warmth. Linoan's eyes are drawn to that contrast, her subtle grace, feeling something of an odd kinship with this stranger. ...How curious.

When the time comes to switch dance partners, Linoan makes sure she's in the woman's line of sight, a warm smile playing on her lips as she takes her hand into her own. It's comforting. Warm.

"I do love your dress," Linoan compliments as the music picks up. "It shimmers like moonlight."

For some people Micaiah knows exactly what it is that draws her to them, while others the pull is less urgent but just as strong; this is the case when she encounters Linoan of Tahra on the dance floor.

"Thank you," she beams, placing her hands as she was taught for this particular Ylissean set (though blessedly compared to the earlier minuet such standards seem now much laxer here). She sees herself in the sparkle of this lady's eyes and thinks of light, of infinite reflections.

"Truthfully," she says, spinning closer for a moment, "it took me an embarrassing amount of time to find. I am not…"

Not used to it, those words she could utter to Elincia for she knew but other nobility? No. She needed to do better. If Micaiah did not know or act or walk as if she were a Queen from birth she would simply have to learn, have to become.

Her smile falters for only a moment and she laughs.

“The thing is,” she says honestly, “I prefer something more colorful like what you have on, but I thought to challenge myself tonight. I am pleased to know it worked for you milady. I am Micaiah of Daein, might I ask your name?”