#serraic

[ostianshadow]

"Weeeeell, Matthew!" What might she want, one may be asking? Oh, it's nothing big. Just the usual stuff. "You look very nice! I don't even see dirt on your cheek for once!" Is... that how she normally sees him?? "... Okay. Now it's your turn. Say, 'Serra, you're beyond compare!' Or... 'Serra, Erk sure is lucky!' Or... I don't know! Those are some good examples. In case you can't think up anything yourself. But you're quick on your feet, aren't you?" She's beaming broadly, black lace gloves folded over a bouquet of orchids. In fact, she's wearing all black. She even has on black make-up... "You better think up something nice! If you do, we can trade flowers!" Her smile, though, is bright and sunny as ever.

"For... once?" What. Just what does she mean by that?

You know what.

Nevermind.

"Woah. Serra. You look..."

Easier just to play along. Except that when Matthew goes to appraise Serra, that he might come up with a suitable compliment, he finds himself stunned into a brief disconnect with reality. Is this really Serra??

"... Different."

Okay. Uh. Not his brightest. To his credit, since he doesn't want her to start beating him up with that bouquet of hers, he's quick to course-correct:

"That is to say: absolutely gorgeous." He beams, cheeky, and dares to offer forth a hyacinth and a wink. "How's that?"

[malignantknight]

“Hey, where’d you get that alcohol you’ve been handing out to people?” Serra sounds mad at first, but then a smile splits her face. “Can I have some? Like, a ton? Wormwood and red wine is a remedy for sea sickness! I’ve got the wormwood already!”

Camilla raises an eyebrow. "I can give you a glass, but the wine is for everyone. If you need so much for this sea sickness remedy, maybe you should find a different remedy. And maybe wine isn't a good idea for you... If you get sick that's not my responsibility." Regardless of how wise of a decision it might be, Camilla did hand a glass of wine to the cleric.🍷

[alluxerim]

“Lucius?!”

Surprise strikes at the center of her chest as she lays on the hay-haired priest, eyes lit like the lanterns flickering around them and on the surface of the ocean. This is one shrill name-calling that Erk, who has stepped away to get her drinks, could perhaps forgive her for. For who would have thought that Lucius would appear so suddenly, in the midst of a party, of all things?

“Lucius, is that really you?” She picks up the edge of her dress as she pounces towards him, and clasps her hands with his. In her part, Serra is transformed — pink hair in a bun, long, flowing dress, marks of light make-up. She looks like a totally different girl than the one that had fought aside him years ago.

“I can’t believe it! You’re really here! You look...” Exactly the same! He hadn’t even dressed up. “... Well!” Not even the storm of flat fashion can rattle the battlements of this girl’s castle. “And we both have pearls! Here, let’s trade! Lucius, you won’t believe who I’m here with, as my date. Guess. It’s a boy. You know him. Go on, guess.”

"Oh— Serra!" Lucius' voice is considerably quieter than hers, but no less warm, regarding the younger cleric with a fond look as he grips her hands back, "What a blessing of St. Elimine's that has brought us all here again. You look quite beautiful."

In the years since he's last seen her, Serra had clearly grown and matured, especially dressed up as she is tonight, though it seems her personality is as excitable as before. Smiling indulgently, he hands over his own pearl in exchange, though he pauses a little at Serra's next insistence. There hadn't exactly been time to keep up with the love lives of their younger allies during the chaos of battles and the marching in between. He does make an honest effort to recall whom Serra tended to spend time with.

"Ah... Is it Matthew?" he guesses, a little helplessly. They both served House Ostia, last he knew. Maybe that was enough for them to decide to travel together even after the conflict?

[enarmor]

//continued from here @serraic

That’s odd. People don’t normally ask Sain to say more. 

He stops to finally catch his breath, straightening that hunched-over back and doing away with all the gasping and heaving. “Serra...?” he asks, with the perplexed tilt of his head, “Last we spoke, you said I was disgusting. I believed you would not have the ears to hear any of my praise.” 

Stepping back, he allows a finger to fall onto his chin. Eyes tilt up, then drop down--scanning the Ostian from head to toe. He shrugs. “If my fair lady desires it so, then praise her I shall! While in my company, you shall receive the worship you deserve!”

He clears his throat. Like it’s a performance. 

“In all our time spent apart, your beauty has yet to wane,” he nods as if to affirm himself, believing this to be what she wishes to hear from him, “And your sense of style, how it blossoms further. Why, Lady Serra, I believe you’ve somehow managed to grow even more magnificent! More perfect than perfect!!” 

For a moment, a flicker of something shines through in his eyes, but it’s quashed when he thinks further. His last query was at the front of his mind, yes, but with it now out of the way, a new idea has taken root. Sain’s index taps his cheek. He’s going right back to trying to get what he wants out of her.

“Ah, but one other thing. About what you said last time,” how Lyn and Hector fighting all the time meant they were into each other, “Kent and I have had our fair share of squabbles, don’t you think? Yet he doesn’t hold affection for me... Do you truly believe being at odds is a sign of love?”

[fangedjustice]

Several things amiss

@serraic [ Sword +1 Mission ]

These missions were a bit unusual compared to what he'd done in the past, but Lloyd wasn't about to complain about it. If it served a good purpose, he would help. And if it could be solved without spilling blood...well, that would be a welcome change, too.

The student that was accompanying him on this particular task was...energetic, to say the least. Though he wasn't exceptionally talkative himself, responding to some things as they moved towards their destination, she seemed more than willing to fill in the otherwise dead air with her own chatter.

She was a bit much to take in all at once, but she was young and owed her exuberance. Besides, as a healer, he was sure she would be a reassuring sight to the people who were concerned about these ruins. Such things were often calming to those with a more superstitious outlook.

"Well, I'll be grateful to have someone as talented in the healing arts as yourself with me," Lloyd eventually managed to break in, "I don't make a habit of getting injured where it can be avoided, but you never know how a job is going to turn out. If we run into anything unexpected, I'll make sure you get back to the monastery safe."

[cadenzardea]

sforzando

quick starter for @serraic

The resonant sound of bells echo off of the polished stone of the cathedral interior, accompanied by the soft clack of footsteps as Reyson approaches his potential student. A sheaf of papers is held in one hand, a mixture of handwritten script and musical notation visible where they bow back across his fingers. The other clutches a wooden flute. "Ah. There you are. Serra, was it?" He dips his head in greeting, wings spreading open behind him. His eyes flick back to the papers. Mezzo-soprano. Contralto. Reyson had the honor of learning the music of the Earth itself, communing with the world in the ancient tongue and melodies of the goddess—but the beorc's way of organizing and notating song is still fairly new to him. He studied earnestly in his time here, and it is finally time to start putting this new knowledge into practice. "How much experience do you have with singing? Have you ever been assigned a voice type?"

[heartoftheloathsome]

flamboyant vs. frightening

@serraic​​

Hubert feels something akin to acid sizzle the back of his throat. This couldn’t possibly be her, could it? He slips behind a pillar a safe distance away, eyes his target—feels the urge to retch. But, no—the description he had been given matches this girl far too perfectly. 

He enumerates in his head precisely what he observes: swinging pink pigtails; bubbly and cordial demeanor; obnoxious and grating voice. The one who assigned Hubert—of all people—this task must certainly have a fierce, deep-seated grudge against him. Or perhaps, even worse, a death wish. Because there is no genre of individual he despises more than the one he sees before him. 

His assignment had been to find this new Blue Lions student—Serra is her name—and take her on a little excursion to the woods in search of medicinal herbs and tea leaves. A dreary, seemingly menial task that is, frankly, beneath someone like Hubert. But alas, the true purpose of the undertaking is most likely somewhere along the lines of ‘building community’ and ‘making friends.’ He is a new student, after all—as is Serra. 

But by the Goddess, is that really necessary?

This miniature reconnaissance had at the very least proven effective. Now that the threat had been identified, all that’s left is to craft a quick-witted stratagem consisting of Hubert doing this herb-gathering on his own—definitively not interacting with Serra through any means possible—and telling a harmless little lie to his superior. 

Yes, that shall suffice. Hubert should waste no time proceeding with this operation, he thinks as he moves to slip from one pillar’s shadow to another. But, as soon as he turns around—

Hubert audibly gasps at the sight of vivid pink pigtails and a cheeky, smiling face, staring right at him. 

[ordelion]

We do a Little Brewing - Lysi & Serra

Lysithea’s brewing class was probably her least favorite class as far as classes that were based somewhat on magics. It wasn’t for a lack of good curriculum or reason to learn, as she knew the value of each remedy or booster shot or so forth that she learned- as often as not, various doctors had used it on her in the past to varying degrees of effectiveness. It wasn’t for the smell of the class, although that did disturb her, and it wasn’t the teacher, although he was too quiet for her personal preference. Rather, it was the group projects. FORCED group projects, with whoever was next to her. The seating was chosen for each student beforehand, but so far that was a very loose rule- apparently she was the only one who obeyed it. She’d worked with a variety of students, mostly less intelligent than herself but a few moreso, yet consistently all of them were insufferable, unproductive, or most often both at the same time. Only by doing more work than if she was alone could she survive. It hadn’t bothered her too much at first, but when every project, every class period, was with a group, she begun to despise that classroom and all within it. More than once she had snapped, yelling at her project partner for their incompetence and getting a firm talking-to from the teachers for it. That garnered her a reputation among her classmates- ‘she’s more venomous than the poisons we’re trying to cure‘, a few would whisper behind her shoulder. One period, she found herself partnered with her actual, *official* seating partner. Serra. The girl wasn’t someone she had seen before, so it was a refreshing change of pace from the usual buffoonish faces she’d had to contend with in the past. But when the teacher announced the semester project was going to be a two-person assignment on creating a collaborative invisibility potion, that excitement drained away. She sighed and rocked her head in her hands as the rest of the class slowly began to filter into their research stations. “By the Goddess, why must we have so many? We’ve had seven group projects this month alone.” She hissed, mostly to herself. She turned over to her partner, a defeated sort of look buried in her pink irises, and muttered something that could barely be called a joke for how dry it was. “So, stranger girl, what bright ideas might you have?” @serraic