#offhirdiad

[huntershowl-moving]

@offhirdiad​. 

   Heavy breaths escape him as he forces himself into a sitting position. His head is spinning from the force of being thrown like a rag doll by the demonic beast. He’s even sure he blacked out for a moment as now it appears that the creature’s body is nowhere to be found. Deep down it’s a bit frustrating to be bested by such a creature. His ghosts certainly think so.

         Still, he tries to shake it off as he moves to stand. His world tips momentarily before he slams the bladed end of his lance into the dirt to steady himself. He’s about to start wandering back over to where the rest of the students seem to be cleaning up the last remnants of the fight. It’s only when he hears a voice, rather unfamiliar to him, close by that he turns his attention towards the sound.

         For a few seconds he just watches her and he doesn’t seem to recognize her. Not entirely anyway. He supposes she must be from one of the other houses. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d all be dispatched to take care of threats lingering a little too close to the monastery. Regardless, he fits a practiced smile onto his lips.

         “Thank you for caring for my wellbeing, but I can assure you I’ll be alright. I’ve dealt with worse. I just need to walk it off.” He then begins to gesture towards the rest of the group. “Besides, we should probably help them finish up.”

❛ don’t worry. i took care of it. ❜  tugging her hood up further to shadow her face, persephone wipes the blood off of her arrow with a rag from her pocket. the words are a clipped response to blaiddyd’s eyes searching the area for the beast’s body. luring the blasted thing away from the group was a challenge – instead of immediately going after her, it went after the blue lions’ house leader, who was off on his own entangled in combat with a bandit. the beast got in a nasty hit before she could finally lure it back toward her and finish it off alone. it’s easy to say that persephone prefers fighting solo because she’s an archer, an ex-mercenary, whatever story fits best. in truth, it’s because dulling her abilities to match those of the rest of the students is incredibly frustrating. they slow her down with their amateur moves, then boast about their skills back at the monastery. so persephone elects to fight alone. luring enemies away from the group and picking them off in the trees, she takes care of it quietly, without having to deal with questioning eyes.  blaiddyd is strong, though. there is great restraint in the way he holds his weapons, as if a firm grip would cause them to snap – if anyone could take a hit from a demonic beast, she supposes he is one of the better candidates. even so, she should have been smarter. the thing wasn’t supposed to be hitting any of the students.  ❛ ah... you weren’t supposed to take that hit. i was trying to lure it away from the group, not towards you. ❜ it’s as close as he’s getting to an apology as she picks a bloody clump of fur off of her sleeve, tossing it into the brush. gross. ❛ and don’t mistake it for caring. they need you un-concussed, that’s all. ❜ after one step toward the group, wariness shadows her expression and she stops. ❛ uh – you had better go ahead. you should check in with manuela when you get back with the group – head wounds can be serious if you don’t treat them. ❜

[siilentheartbeat]

@offhirdiad​

it was late, the moon settled high among the clouds that illuminated them with stars in its wake. byleth’s green eyes remained upwards at the sky, they had trouble falling asleep, was it their mind keeping them up at night? possibly plans that bounced around before they’re placed on paper? just plain restlessness? a mixture of all of them? the former professor shook their head, feet led the way towards the dining hall.

tea, that might help calm whatever nerves that kept them up.

 “dimitri, you’re awake,” more a statement than a question, the pot continued to heat on the stove, the dining hall was empty and quiet without anyone else among the shades. except for a former mercenary and eventual king. “shouldn’t you be asleep?” a silly question, the kettle continued boiling, and he reached for the tea leaves they kept. “tea?”

[drylicu]

@offhirdiad​ is seeking comfort from Morgan:  If he hadn't noticed her maybe he wouldn't have felt the desire to find comfort in her pulling at him so tightly. But here he was, sauntering over to her while she sat. He wasn't sure what she was doing, but regardless he wordlessly gets down beside her. Then of his own body's accord, he's immediately putting his head on her lap and his arms lace around her waist. His grip tightens just slightly to confirm she was truly there and solid in his arms. That she was real.

          Morgan herself was occupied by a tome. Morgan...had always wanted to invent her own spell. It was not easy, but it was definitely doable. So what was in her hands was a history book. She was looking at those who had invented spells, via harnessing the energies of the world, alchemy, or any other thing. She wanted to find one that would work for her. A method that would help her create a spell well enough. Hexes were easy. Jinxes and curses too. But a whole spell...that would require a lot of work.

          She knew of Dimitri’s coming. He had business to take care of, voices to converse with, weapons to repair due to his rough usage. Morgan had expected him to keep going on with his day because she hadn’t requested an audience with him yet. Well, not that she ever had to. Though neither of them had spoken about needing each other, and he hadn’t spoken now either. Morgan had expected to be able to continue her reading, until Dimitri sat beside her.

          Sometimes it’s funny just how much he dwarfs her. Turning and looking up at him, he had that look on his face again. That forlorn look. Most people would have spoken, tried to help. Dimitri however, was not one who spoke of his issues easily. And most times did not want to at all, even with those he trusted. Silence in company can sometimes be just as helpful.

          What she wasn’t anticipating was him holding on to her like he was. His head was placed in her lap, and he simply held on to her. No questions, qualms, nothing. He just held on to her. Morgan could understand. While his grip was definitely nothing to joke at, despite it being possibly feather light for him, she still just let him get comfortable. It was the kind of moment where he was questioning everything around him. What was real, what wasn’t. Where he needed to find something he could tether himself to. She didn’t mind being that thing for him.

          There’s just the gentlest of smiles. Of course Dimitri is in some sort of pain, and Morgan loves to be needed enough to be a relief for him. Closing her book, she slowly and gently places a hand on his head and begins stroking his hair.

[hecvenwept]

@offhirdiad​;; [ cont. from HERE ]

         The cup that he takes is warm in his scarred hands. It’s nice to feel something other than the worn leather of his gloves as he practically cradles the hot drink that is handed to him. He’s not certain if it’s tea or something more medicinal, but that didn’t matter so long as it would rid him of the headache that pulsed harshly at his temples.

         “Thank you.” The words escape him hoarsely as he takes a sip. If he didn’t know better he would think it to be nothing more than water as it leaves no taste on his tongue. But just as the headaches, his loss of taste had also followed after the Tragedy. So he brings a bit more into his mouth before staring down into the cup.

         His headaches were exhausting, and not even sleep would push them away. If he could even properly sleep that is. So much time has passed since the Tragedy and his academy days that it leaves a deep exhaustion in his bones. It has him grateful that lately he has found his head a bit more clear and that those, such as Seteth, still find it in themselves to be kind with him. Probably far gentler then he deserves, but just like the drink it settles a warmth in his chest that keeps him going.

         “I apologize for taking up your time. I know it is precious, but I appreciate it greatly.” Another sip. “I know how hard you work.”

❝ There is no need to apologise, I assure you. Taking care of the younger members of the army is amongst my top priorities. ❞

Even if those members happen to be royalty, and heirs to the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. He has lived long enough to disregard such trivialities-- titles and bloodlines hold little merit to the endless passage of time, and besides, there’s little reason for him not to worry about the prince. 

❝ I’ve noticed you haven’t been sleeping, if the fact that you’re wandering the Cathedral every night is any indication. I was hoping some lavender tea would help with your insomnia. ❞

While he hasn’t talked much to Dimitri, he can feel there’s more to it than plain loss of sleep. There’s a deep darkness and grief he senses within the youth, one that may perhaps rival the feeling that has settled deep inside him after the Red Canyon. 

❝ I also hope you know you can talk to me, if the need arises. War has been hard on us all, but I will do my best to relieve you of any burdens you may bear, if I can. ❞

[drylicu]

         "Happy birthday." There's a hint of a smile that tugs at the corner of his lips as he holds out a small box. Candy from Fhirdiad. It was nothing special, but from what he had been told it was supposed to taste delightful. So he hands it to her before he wraps his arms gently around her.

                                                       -- @offhirdiad​

         “Wha--” Never before had it occurred to Morgan that aside from Marc and her father, no one would care to celebrate her birthday. Especially not in Fodlan. Especially given how...unwelcoming they were to outsiders, to be frank. Only on the word of Prince Chrom were they allowed in. And of course with their renowned father’s directions to how they should be handled as well. This wild little deer had garnered herself a very nice reputation among the others for being a bit too wild. So never did she think that other students, let alone the lord of a different house, would care enough about her to get her something.

          Then again, Dimitri has caught and gently coaxed her out of many dangerous stunts...so he probably asked around about her. Someone probably let it slip it was her birthday. She knew it couldn’t have been Marc, he never spoke of anything about them. And she followed suit as well.

          So when the bag of candies was placed in her hands, she could only look down at them in pure shock and bewilderment. Only in seconds later for that feeling to become magnified by a thousand bolts.

                                                            He hugged her.

          It...didn’t hurt.

          There was nothing digging into her back. No joints snapping or coming out of socket. He was as gentle as her father and her brother would. This...means Dimitri is safe. Yes. He’s safe. Carefully holding the candy in one hand, she soon wrapped her own arms around him and returned his hug. A nice little squeeze thrown in for good measure. When she did that though, a part of her realized she didn’t want it to end. Hopefully he’d indulge her for another moment or so before the young tactician retreated to find her twin.

[drylicu]

It's quiet when he drapes a blanket over her shoulders. The fabric is torn in some areas that had to be stitched back together clumsily. There's even still loose strands of string hanging off its edges that hadn't been trimmed. Yet, Dimitri felt a little sense of pride at his handiwork. It wasn't perfect, but he had only managed to bend the scissors instead of breaking them this time! So he gives a nervous little smile in the hopes that Morgan likes the gift.

                                                             - @offhirdiad​

         “--Hehe, you know you make pretty loud footsteps, Dimitri.” Or maybe her hearing was just too good. A few years training under thieves and assassins. However with Dimitri, there was no real need for her to worry about anything. He wasn’t going to hurt her. If anything, he was going to come and see if she would join them in the war council, or simply sit with her. Sometimes he needs another voice other than the ones in his head. Its when she turns to greet him that she sees the blanket he so carefully draped the blanket on her.

           It was very...cute! It looked like he put a lot of time and effort into doing so. She knew how using small utensils was hard for him. So for him to have actually crafted this blanket was nothing easy! Not to mention, he used shades of blue and purple. Her favorites. Dimitiri had really put a lot of thought into it! She can’t truly recall an occasion for it, her birthday wasn’t until May, and Yuletide had already passed...maybe it was a just because? Regardless, she loves it. Morgan loves the amount of thought, care, and effort he put into something for her! Reaching out, she holds her arm open so there’s room for him to sit beside her and join her in the warmth.

          By all means she wanted to share with Dimitri in the same comfort he’s offering her. “Come sit with me! I wanna show you this new book I’ve been reading.”

[markofkaine]

@offhirdiad​ continued from here

She was an adult now, nearer to 30 than 20. The pain that shot down her spine, hot and jagged each time her Crest activates, was more manageable these days. There was a war raging now, and she’d found herself in the thick of it, despite everything. It occupied her thoughts in the waking hours, her mind dizzy with troop formations, weapon upkeep, payments for the mercenaries that supplement their armies. She was an adult now, and adults must keep busy with important things.

But in her dreams, she’s a child again. An orphan in every way that counts. A thief, a wretched little hellion who steals, not bread and fruits like the lovable urchins from the children’s fables, but gold and jewelry. She is a commoner. Crestless. Worthless. When she’s kidnapped off the streets, no one thinks to wonder where she’s gone.

And then she’s frozen. There’s something like ice in her throat, but pulpy, sludgy. It hurts, and her throat tightens until she can barely breathe, let alone talk. 

No, she tries to say. They don’t listen, as needles prick into the back of her neck. Stop, she tries to say. They don’t listen, as they push something small and round into her open wound. I’ll kill you, she tries to say. They don’t listen. They laugh. She’s thrown into a holding cell full of corpses.

And then, suddenly, she woke. Immediately, her hands lined with purple, dark magic desperate to manifest fully at her fingertips and bite into anyone who comes near her. Yet, it was only Dimitri, and after a moment, Lillibridge’s shoulders sagged as she forced her body to relax, drawing the magic back inside her so as not to skewer him upon its sharp edges.

Her cheek stung, and she realized that, in his bid to wake her from her dream, Dimitri had likely struck her. It probably took a great deal of restraint for him not to hit her hard enough to knock her from her seat. Either way, she preferred to be punched, or slapped, even stabbed, over being caressed. How she loathed being touched.

Touching a hand to her chest, Lillibridge felt her racing heartbeat begin to slow, and so regarded the prince as she stood on shaky legs from the desk. “We’re in a war zone, Dimitri. I’m hardly safe anywhere.” Though even if they weren’t, she would never feel safe, not so long as those who had done things to her blood still drew breath. 

Selfishly, that was what kept her tied to Dimitri and the others. After Remire Village, after Edelgard’s attack on the Holy Tomb, it seemed her best chance to enact the vengeance she so ardently desired. “I appreciate your aid, but I have little intention of sleeping any longer.” Her lips wrinkled upon her face as she looked to the desk. “Clearly that did little to help me rest.” Arms folded over her chest. “I suppose my time would be better served continuing my work, or reviewing the maps, or... something.”

No, Lillibridge wasn’t sure what she should do, but sleeping again was out of the question.

[painintopcwer]

✔✔✔✔ Always!!

Like My Muses? - Accepting! - @offhirdiad

Right back at you! **tosses the checkmarks back at you**