#shadedperseverance

[roussemagique]

"I refuse."

((this is going to get incredibly angsty bc im in one of those moods so hooray //revs up the grima!timeline))

She should have assumed he would refuse. They were coming closer, the crack of trees falling in the distance signified their ever-encroaching distance from the two of them. They were trapped and there was nothing either of them could do. Miriel gripped Laurent’s shoulders as tightly as she needed to for him to grasp the gravity of the situation, and moreover, how dedicated she was to the plan she had in mind. Laurent had already witnessed the death of his father, and Miriel was the only one remaining to protect him at all costs. He was all she had left, and she would see to it that he would be safe.

"Listen to me, Laurent." She spoke harshly and evenly, knowing that despite his refusal, this was the only way he would live. "They are fast approaching us. If either of us are to live, then I will stay behind. You have to run. Please, I cannot bear to lose you. You have to find Lucina, find her and remain with her. I will try my best to catch up with you. Do not make me repeat myself.”

She hated pulling this card, but this time she felt she had no choice.

"I am your mother, Laurent, and you will obey me."

[roussemagique]

shadedperseverance replied to your post:(HAHAHA I DID A BIG REPLY FOR LAURENT BUT TUMBLR...

(OH NO. I am sorry, Mother-mun. DDD: )

((IT'S OK I DID IT IT'S DONE bc i had the common sense to copy most of it to my clipboard before i posted it))

[shadedperseverance]

After stepping inside, Laurent’s gaze briefly swept across the inside of the tent and felt a wave of nostalgia hit him. It was very much a relief to see that his mother, despite the turning back of years, was still very much the woman he’d known. Admittedly, there were less lingering traces of his father here, but he was confident enough that everything would play out. He had not yet disappeared from existence, so he could only remain hopeful that things were going well in that regard.

"Problem?" For a moment, the young mage’s expression was confused before he shook his head slowly. "I apologise, I’ve not come to you with the intention of seeking solace for an issue. Rather, I’ve a far more… enjoyable matter at hand. That is to say, rather, I hope it is something to be considered more appreciated."

Slowly and carefully, Laurent removed a wrapped and rectangular package hidden with his cloak and offered the package to Miriel. Though his expression was carefully veiled, his eyes remained bright and eager. The paper covering the item was painstakingly careful, free of wrinkles or tears, with every fold and adjustment precise to offer as close to a smooth surface as he’d been able to manage. He could only hope that what sat inside would get the desired reaction.

[roussemagique]

"I see..." she murmured upon the item in his hands being revealed to her. It took her a moment to register the fact that he was presenting her with the package and not simply showing it to her. Adjusting her glasses, she found her lips quirking slightly into a smile. "You're... presenting this to me...?" She looked up at him to analyze his expression, only taking the package from him because his eyes seemed to signal her to do so. Her hand ghosted along the wrapping, silently admiring the precision with which he covered the item. "My birthday's come and gone within the year, the winter holidays are not for another few months... I fail to recall a particular reason for a gift, my son. May I inquire as to the occasion...?"

She held it gingerly in her slender fingers, ensuring the paper wouldn't wrinkle or budge until she knew what exactly it was for. She analyzed it in silence, an absentminded finger lain aside her chin. "I have your permission to open it, then...? I admit my curiosity is getting the best of me."

[shadedperseverance]

Dungeons and Dorks II Lon'qu, Laurent, and Owain.

ill-fated-taciturn asked:

"Laurent. Just the mage I wanted to see... Here..." Lon'qu handed Laurent a tome before stating some extra info about it. "I found this tome.. I figured you would get some good use out of it. It seems to be a special tome that gives you +9 against the undead... Whatever that means..."

Looking up in surprise, Laurent’s focused was drawn away from the small, coloured orb between his palms. It had been his hope to perfect what he and his mother had decided to dub - for the time being - pyrotechnic inflorescence (a name he realised they would need to change later to make it more sufficient for common use.) Setting it aside, the young mage took the tomb with interest and carefully laid it across his lap. Behind his spectacles, Laurent’s eyes glimmered with elation.

"This is…" he began, voice trailing off as he slowly brushed his gloved fingers across the cover. Certainly he knew tombs were nothing short of astounding. There were so many differing types and forms, capable of pulling off seemingly impossible feats with their incantations and hidden secrets. As he listened to Lon’qu’s explanation, he could not stop the budding excitement that built in his chest. He’d not told anyone of his conversation with Owain regarding a number of weapons with questionable enchantments. In fact, he hadn’t conversed with anyone about the “fairy tale” arms.

Yet, here it sat, clear as day in his lap. Lon’qu wouldn’t have claimed something so ridiculous, especially something so specific as to match what he’d read in his research material. This was wonderful!

Jumping to his feet with exuberance, Laurent abandoned his earlier work and faced Lon’qu with a slowly growing smile. “Magnificent! This is truly phenomenal! Lon’qu, you simply must join me into town. Owain, should my memory be serving me correctly, is currently partaking in the oddly celebrated joys of consuming alcoholic beverages.” He tapped the book in his arms twice, “This— I marvel at how you managed to obtain such a treasure, but I thank you abundantly. You’ve given me proof to the existence of something far beyond any weapon we could hope to easily obtain through shopping alone.”

Unable to stop himself, the young mage began to walk forward, once again hugging the book to himself as he tried to control the light skip in his steps. “Come, come, quickly. We mustn’t stand around lavishly. To the local brewery! We’re going on an adventure!”

However, contrary to his excitement, Laurent couldn’t stop the few confused thoughts that managed to slip into his mind. He, as well as the book, used the phrase “plus nine.” But… what exactly is receiving an “increase” of nine? No, that isn’t to be considered right now. We must away, ere break of day!

[shadedperseverance]

Midnight Terror II Open

“No!” With a strangled gasp, Laurent lurched, suddenly finding himself sitting up in bed. His chest heaved with each breath he took in, the air leaving him shakily as he raised a trembling hand to his head, brushing the sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes and up off his face. For a moment, he didn’t dare move, only allowing his eyes to dart about the tent to carefully taking a tally of those around him. His heart hammered painfully against his ribs as something in his throat grew thicker with each form under blankets he counted off. It wasn’t until he’d gone over the entire tent thrice that he felt his muscles finally start to relax.

Everyone – at least everyone around him – was still here.

Releasing a breath he didn’t realise he’d suddenly been holding, the young mage pulled his legs to his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around them. With his eyes closed, he buried his face in his knees, trying to force back the dark images from his dream. As the minutes past, the trembling of his limbs began to cease and his pulse slowly returned to normal. Alas, it didn’t feel as if he’d be lulled back into anytime soon.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Laurent carefully felt the ground beside him, feeling a dulled sense of satisfaction when the tips of his fingers brushed against his glasses. Sliding the spectacles up the bridge of his nose, he carefully disentangled himself from his blanket and stood up, giving the tent another once-over. Being caught awake at this hour of the night would only lead to questions he wasn’t certain he had the current mind to answer.

Once he was assured that he’d woken no one with his outburst, he grabbed the thick tome that sat above his pillow and made his way around the edge of the tent. It only took him a few minutes to dance around the sleep-sprawled figures of his comrades, and soon he was standing outside under the pale light of the moon. The night air felt chilly against his sweat-coated skin, but it only came as a welcome relief against the musky interior he'd just escaped.

After casting a glance around the area before him, Laurent slowly walked over to an abandoned log and sat down. The tome in his arms was hugged firmly against his chest with the top of the spine hovering just below his nose. As he allowed his eyes to flutter closed, he inhaled deeply, taking comfort in the familiar aroma of aged parchment pages. Letting loose yet another sigh, he loosened his grip on the book, letting it fall into his lap, opening to a random page. As long as he was awake, he might as well make use of the time and review his most recent notes.

It was his dull hope that, maybe, the facts might offer his brain some solace and finally calm down. He was already well-aware that none of the other occupants of the children’s camp were missing, and if he listened carefully enough, he could hear the low, murmuring voices of the current night-watch. Everyone was still in the camp, no one was missing, and he most certainly wasn’t alone. Yet, even as he brushed his finger under the dark lettering of his own script, he couldn’t fully fight off the heavy weight that plagued his chest. He knew all too well just how easily and quickly anyone could be lost to the cruel hand of war.

It only took one incident, a single slip up, and it was very possible he could be left completely alone. Just as it had been in his nightmares for so long...