#scarletplain

[heliacalrisings]

(Gachapon)

Karla has watched three or four people obtain tiny little presents from the toy chute. Each of them are cute little animals or people, outside of small capsules. She has decided, even though she does not have any more money left on her: she must obtain one for her brother. It is of the utmost importance.

When she sees a fellow student that looks around her age, she shoots him with a fixed gaze, not unlike the unwavering dedication of a cat. "Hello. My name is Karla." Her hands are in fists in front of her. "For enough gold to work the toy chute, I will do you any favor you wish." And she does mean any favor he wishes. Dear Ephraim truly has the world (or, at least, Karla) in his palm at this juncture.

Ephraim has only a passing interest in the toy machines. They look like trinkets Eirika might enjoy but before he can get close enough to inspect them, he's approached by a woman with long dark hair. Her dark eyes stare so intensely he feels compelled to stop.

"Is that all you want?" He reaches for some gold and offers it to her. "Here, in the spirit of the festival. You must want them for an important reason, right?" She has such an intense and earnest look that he cannot imagine she would ask for any other reason.

"Take it." It's enough for a few of the toy chutes at least, but it's not gold he'll notice is missing.

[malignantknight]

Karla Flowers

(Flower) A stall has been set up that sells rare flowers: ones that glow under the moonlight. A bouquet of these would already be perfect, but a beautiful flower crown made from them would look like a halo placed on a loved one’s head.. @scarletplain

The flowers stall was so much fun! Camilla was enjoying all of the ways to arrange the flowers, from bouquets to crowns to bracelets and necklaces! She couldn't possibly keep all these beautiful flowers to herself, and it brought her so much joy to hand things out.

"Here darling!" Camilla placed a floral crown atop Karla's head with a warm smile.

[encantresse]

Karla has never been a good chef. It was one of her mother's greatest sorrows, that she could not carry on her family's legacy through cooking better. But faced with endless time, longing, and a vat of oil…

"Come here…"

The person she calls over has a kind countenance — they do not know each other from strangers in the crowd, but with large, asking dark eyes, Karla offers her some tasalsan guril. "Will you be my taste-tester?"

toastarlight2026 — daytime prompts

she turns toward the unfamiliar voice, more baffled than she is wary. the dark-haired woman is not one she recognizes, though eyeing the throngs of cooks (or is that term too generous, she wonders? would she call herself one for dipping something into hot oil?), dorothea figures the intention is well-meaning at best.

"i don't see why not!"

the songstress greets the stranger with a smile as she slides onto a nearby stool, peering at the offering inquisitively. it looks like some sort of fried noodles, from what she can infer—and lacks the addition of dreaded seafood, much to her relief. that alone makes this dish a winner.

dorothea pulls the bowl closer and uses a fork to scoop the food into her mouth. it's simple in all the right ways—salty and mildly nutty, which would make it good served with something else. maybe a tad chewy, but really, she's had worse. "it's good." she nods approvingly. "maybe even better in a stew of some kind? i can see it balancing everything out with the crunch it provides."

[azurelunae]

(Clown)

One of the stalls apparently features a person with their face painted powder-white — as well as a single sad tear illustrated widely across their face. Karla has stopped to take them in. Their sadness is clear by the frown on their face and the droplet on their cheek, a costume, a part of their identity at this juncture, during this festivity, and Karla marvels at the meaning behind such a thing. She, too, feels she has sorrow stitched into her soul, but she does not decorate herself so, nor does she sit in a stall on display for passerbys to glance at or entertain themselves with — not, of course, that any others are at the moment, other than her.

… Other than her, and an azure-haired young woman who has stopped beside her.

"… Is there some sort of meaning to this costume that I do not know about?" she asks her. Karla has traveled far, but there is still much she does not know. Perhaps this is one such thing.

In a festival where the joy of bonds rings true around them, it is concerning to see this man look so forlorn.

"I have tried addressing him," Eirika tells the dark-haired woman. "He does not respond. I wonder if his being here is meant to be a statement, or a performance of sort, rather than someone who is sad. To wear one's grief so openly is a burden of its own, but it is also likely one's fate should we eschew those around us."

Though she feels bad standing here and speaking of him as if he is not present. Yet, no matter what she has said to him or about him, he has not responded.

"This festival is about the bonds between us so I believe his purpose may be to remind us of what could happen without those bonds. If not, well, then I worry that I have offended him by talking about him so openly."

Eirika looks at him again. "I do apologize if this is not the case. I mean no offense." He still gives no response.

"...Perhaps we should leave him alone."

[verdelixir]

(Merry)

What feels like a long, long time ago, now, Karla had a horse of her own. Well — it was her family's horse, left to her after… everything, and she'd taken care of the creature for as long as her life had led her.

Now, Karla stares at the little wooden horses lined up on a platform above her, and thinks that they look nothing like her mare did.

She takes a sidelong glance at the youngest student near-her-by to see if she is excited about the entire affair…

starlight dreams chapter 1 (accepting!)

Midori is so excited! Watching the previous riders leaving through the exit, the cheery music and fluid movements of the wooden horses still echo in her mind, making her eager to get her own turn.

The student next to her doesn't seem to share in the same outward excitement, expression somber even in the face of something as magical as this, and when Midori catches her gaze, she gives a friendly grin.

"They said two people can ride on a horse together, right?" she asks, extending a hand towards the other, "It looks like a lot of fun! Do you want to go with me?"

[senerist]

“You’re burning up.”

She has one hand on his forehead, one hand on her own, to contrast the difference between the two.

“Come... lay down.”

caring for the sick || accepting forever tbh

The woman's hand is cool on soren's forehead.  It serves as a stronger reminder to him that he is feverish than her gentle command to take a break.

“i'm fine,” he says, but he knows he isn't, and from the way her palm presses into his brand on his forehead, he knows that she knows this too.  She actually… cares.  Why, he can't glean from just this contact, and when she pulls it away the connection breaks and he feels as though he can forget that glimmer of genuine concern she seems to have for another human being.

That won't stop him from craving it, however.

“i have work to do,” he continues, “i… appreciate your concern, but it is unnecessary.”