#otgolokh

[katabatiic]

As he tends to, Karel... Just sort of appears.

And it's immediately obvious that he is not well — His deathly pallor and his glassed eyes only serve to emphasize that he absolutely should not be walking around like this, and whoever let him out of the infirmary in this condition should probably be taken aside for a bit.

But there's something else. Even his demeanor seems a bit sublty off, and he speaks languidly, without much in the way of care or deliberation.

"Legault."

"That'd be my name."

The thief glances up, hand curled around a bloodied cloth which is in turn curled around his dagger.

"I didn't see you much out in the city. Lucky for me, I had another little hero to protect me. How'd you fare?"

Upon second glance, Legault could answer the question himself. Red-rimmed eyes and odd speech-- if the swordsman were flushed rather than pale he'd swear the man is drunk.

"...Find some liquor out there or something?" He asks anyway, just to prod him a bit.

[alluxerim]

For a moment, Karel's breath gets caught in his throat.

He's past the point where he'd let his gaze wander at much of anyone with blond hair, out of some faint desire to see him again, but he still longs, somewhere. For that little shard of peace he thought he could never have, and the man who gave it to him.

It isn't at this party where Karel thought he would ever see a familiar face besides his sister, but, lo; his eyes shimmer in the lanturn-light, of such gentleness that they could be oceans in of themselves—

"Lucius?"

...Karel's gaze wanders a little, unsteadily, before settling back on the man before him.

"It is... Good. To see you again, I mean."

Lucius hadn't gotten far into the crowd when he hears his name called, a voice so close by that he only had to turn before being met with a familiar face.

"Karel!" The surprise takes only a moment to fade, and something a little like relief takes its place. "You look well," he says. Better, for sure, than when they had last seen one another on the battlefield, and maybe that's where the relief stems from. That the other is still alive, and here, instead of being consumed by the bloodshed that had seemed to light his very being aflame.

"What a blessing it is that we're able to meet again," he says, smiling. Lucius had kept the swordsman in his prayers, as he promised, though he hadn't exactly expected to ever see the other man again. He reaches out, places a hand on Karel's arm and looks into his eyes. "Have you... been able to find your peace?" he asks gently.

[vallitemaiden]

...Something about this is just painful to watch.

His eyes are trained on her, perhaps a bit menacingly for the uninitiated. That woman, seeming more ruined by the fury of battle than any of the other people who had approached before. It's a raw sorrow that eminates off of her, one that seems achingly familiar to Karel.

...Though, he doesn't want to say anything. Ruin the small peace he has with himself right now. Ruin everything else, while they're trapped down here.

And so, he continues to watch, as much as it troubles him.

Mikoto has not felt such a sadness in her since her child was taken from her. Not even losing her home, her family, compared to the ache and despair at losing the opportunity to see her child grow and mature. Years lost in an instant.

And now her children are missing again. Ryoma, Takumi, Sakura, she can only hope that they found one another because she had not see them, alive or dead, within the monastery during the attack. It is yet more sorrows added to her pile.

She thought she had settled into only happy days.

But she knows those all around her are in despair, her ache reflected in those that mourn and worry as the survivors of the assault try to piece together what happened and where they go from here. It's been so long since she wore her queenly mask, the one she used so frequently to not cause any further worry. And it appears it may be slipping as it is impossible to ignore the piercing gaze of the man who's been watching her.

She has not been able to still her hands or let herself rest since arriving in this haven. If she does, she knows she is bound to break.

"Are you hurt?" Mikoto approached him with calm and poise, her staff in her hands and her bow and quiver strapped around her dress, now torn and dirty and bloodied. The material once held a beautiful sheen but it is only ragged now. "If you need help, I can heal you." Perhaps he was in need of assistance, but there is something in his eyes that echoes in her own.

[stellalimned]

If Karel had looked unwell when they had last spoken, then he looks simply exhausted now; as if the life had been drained from him entirely, leaving only his body behind. Stiff, like a corpse.

He's... Distressed, maybe. His condition's gotten too poor, evidently; he probably isn't going to be allowed to leave the bunker any further for a while, leaving him trapped in the infirmary. That idea, of having to stay still, idle and vulnerable leaves Karel with a nervewracking anxiety, desperate for anything to occupy himself with — And, of course...

"...So. You've made it out?"

He hates himself so, so very much for feeling relieved, even if slightly. What he's staring at now — Limstella — Is not human. A mere homunculus, a horrid simulacrum of a person, something that cannot feel the same way as person does. Something that exists for an express purpose, then is discarded after.

...But then, well, Karel isn't eager to find out what that means for himself.

"...I cannot imagine my former colleagues will approve of me doing this, but... Perhaps I would like your perspective on a few things, if you'll share."

His eyes, tired and half-lidded, finally settle on them.

"I am called Karel, though perhaps you know me better as... Sword Demon. It is not a name I am fond of, but it seems to be what I was most known by."

The dark-haired man from earlier finds me, the one that had accompanied Professor Matthias during our latest mission. He asks for my feedback on something before introducing himself. So that is who he is. I had heard mention of the title of Sword Demon amongst the information I had gathered on both individuals of great power and members of the three lords' armies. This man is no doubt a fortunate addition to our numbers given his abilities, though that can be said of any of the monastery's and academy's attendees and faculty whom I have met. I must observe him further in battle to determine what his fighting style is like.

"My name is Limstella," I offer in return. "I understand if your colleagues have no wish to interact with me; in fact, one of them threatened to dismantle me should I be found acting against the monastery's good. As I have told him, I have no need to seek out quintessence to give to my master, as Lord Nergal is dead and I have better uses of my resources than pursuit of a goal that has been completed. You may freely ask your questions with assurance that I will provide objective answers employing efficiency and logic." I scan his form with an assessing gaze, then return my attention to his face. "I suspect your companions have already said similar, but if they have not, I advise you to see to your upkeep after our conversation. You appear to be functioning in subpar condition, and allowing this to continue will not only affect yourself but also the rest of us, as we are intended to rely on each other to survive this situation, and those of us who are at suboptimal status will be seen as weaknesses and attacked accordingly by our foes. I would prefer for your quintessence to not be extinguished in such a foolish manner."

[bladespromotedpawn]

Time passes, and Karel comes back... Looking worse than ever, frankly. He has more bloody gauze clinging to his skin, and his nose in particular looks as if it had been both broken in and manually readjusted to proper form. But he's back alive, which he supposes is all that matters now.

Mareeta is here also, and she looks more hale than she did when they last spoke: A brief respite of relief, if nothing else.

"Mareeta."

...He sounds absolutely wretched, certainly, but at least he can still speak to begin with. If not by much — Adrenaline is the only thing even keeping him upright, and it certainly shows on his face.

"...Oh, Godsdamnit."

Mareeta dashes over, quickly placing a hand on his arm - of all time for her to be weak. Of all times for her imperfection with fighting those monsters to keep her back... one of the people she cares about got hurt. Damnit.

"You look... awful. Not gonna mince words."

After a brief moment, eyes downcast, she pulls him into a hug, hands clawing at his back with how hard she grasps onto him.

"But you're here, and still kicking. Please stay that way. I've lost so many of my students in the monastery. I don't wanna lose my newest apprentice as well."

It was like one day, what happened here...

"I... know ya wanna make yourself useful to me, or to the group, but you're useful alive. And I'm not letting you see yourself as a blade and just throwing yourself away. A blade is to be cherished."

'So let me cherish you, damnit.'

"And if I can teach you anything, it's that a sword is as good as the condition it's in."

[pillarofopenness]

[ TEDDY BEAR ] Forge-A-Bear was kind enough to donate a platoon of button-eyed teddies to adopt and love. Are you and your partner ready for that kind of commitment?

For one reason or another, he's attracted quite a bit of attention at this damned festival. He's received some rather lovely gifts, ones he'll appreciate the thought of if naught else, but the gigantic stuffed bear on his back is one he'll remember for an entirely different reason.

One of the hosts, Dorothea or something to that accord, had given it to him as a... Gift. Of course, it's rude to deny a gift offered to oneself, so he received it with gratitude (or at least something that sounded like gratitude), but now Karel has to admit it: He has no idea what to do with this thing.

It probably won't fit into his tomb of an inn room, anyway. At worst, it might lead to some odd glances from his... Bunkmate? Maybe? He doesn't want to think about that whole mess too hard, actually.

So, anyway, that leads him to approaching the first person he can see with the bear held over his shoulder like a sack — If the hostess asks, he'll say he's passing it to a loving home.

"I do apologize for disturbing your time," He leads. "But I have no room in my own lodgings for... This, and I would like someone to take it in my stead."

Huh. Well that is not something she expected to see. Ever. For a multitude of reasons.

She’d never guess someone with a title like ‘the sword demon’ would be handing her a stuffed bear, for starters. Not that she’s complaining, no, she’s yoinking that thing up right away. That’s her son now and she will die for him.

Though… a small, mischievous, smirk forms on her lips as she settles the bear in her arms so that she’s looking at the swordsman from over its shoulder. She most definitely should not be ‘poking the sleeping (non-stuffed) bear’ here, so to speak, but… 

“Hm.. I’ll take him off your hands, sure! But on one condition.” The smirk grows wider as she adjusts her grip on the bear to lean him forward towards the swordsman. “You gotta name him.”

[nagaficat]

🎄 At this point he's trying to count how many of these bundles there are in his head. Really, he's kind of curious. To the observer, though, it looks like he's meandering and doing little else.

It is a terrible shame, she thinks, looking up at the very much unadorned doorway to her office. She came all this way with a sprig of mistletoe to hang for some festive fun but she had not considered the fact that the chairs within were all wheeled. It would be unsafe to stand on one and she is far too short to reach without aid.

But then she sees him! He is hiding in the shadows, watching, but she can see that he is white tall. Surely he would not turn down her quest for aid!

"Sir, please! I need your help, sir!" Deirdre waves him over, smile bright and welcoming. "Will you hang this for me? I cannot reach and I will be terribly sad if I am unable to liven things up a little for my dear students. Here," she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a perfectly smooth, perfectly oval stone. "You can have this as my thanks. I found it walking through the woods this morning."

[loyaldeserter]

[TRUST FALL]

To say that Karel is seething would... Actually, be a bit of an exaggeration. He's not happy, sure — Waking up to a town that might as be entirely new to him, handed new clothing and being told to pursue a mystery figure — But it's less anger and more raw confusion. Karel, above, all else, is certain he did not sign onto whatever this is.

The clothes are what disturb him the most, honestly. They're clearly, unmistakably of Sacaen make, but there's no way anything from Sacae could have made it's way here, surely...?!

(seeing his reflection made his heart turn as white as the robes he wears now. they aren't quite the same, with accents of burgundy rather than lavender, but when he saw himself in the artificial pond, for bit a moment he saw someone else entirely.)

(the hat's nice, though.)

Anyway. Confused, trying to find his bearings and/or someone who will explain what in the world is going on. Of course, the stonework hasn't been fully repaired, and as Karel is lost in the haze of navelgazing, he's oblivious to the upturned stone that his boot snags on, sending the whole of his body careening to the ground.

Heath is...less than enthused about this whole situation. He was patrolling when he'd gotten the news--hey, hey, Mr. Heath, aren't you supposed to be at that Cupido Bash thing? What? Turns out, someone had signed him up for an event a couple of students were hosting for the Day of Devotion, probably one of the younger knights who thought it'd be funny.

He could've just ignored it, but events like this are made with a lot of care, and it would be rude to just spoil their plans...so, here he is, still in full armor and on his way to the town. A small smile tugs at his face, seeing all the decorations in the distance. One of the organizers was Dorothea, right? It is an incredibly sweet and thoughtful thing for her to do, so much effort put into it. He'll try to enjoy it, even if it isn't something he'd willingly partake in.

He's hardly made it into town when there's a sudden blur of movement, and a man falls toward Heath. A soldier's reflexes are a good thing to have, here, and he's able to catch him before he hits the ground. His outfit is rather fancy, and that hair...

"Karel? Didn't expect to see you here." To be fair, the same could be said of Heath. But damn. "Did someone sign you up for this?"

He seems...like he's not dying of exhaustion, which is good. The man does not take care of himself well.