#shystratagem

[izanagifortune]

hi is this where I get the augury (sparkle)

oh yes! don't be shy, step right up! i don't bite! (most of the time)

hm... let me see...

I see a warm, gentle, and comforting hug in your future! Oh look, here it comes right now!

[of-pherae]

♡ :dumpass:

send ♡ >> accepting!!

●●●○○ | ATTRACTION ●●●●● | AFFECTION ●●●●● | INTEREST ●●●●○ | LOYALTY ●●●●● | TRUST

"Mark is a dear and valued friend. I was overjoyed to find him here. Fódlan is far from Elibe so I am grateful to have a friendly face. But more than that, he's reliable and we have been through much together. He has my trust implicitly as well as my friendship. Now and forever."

[loyaldeserter]

[ FLOWER ARRANGEMENT ] - No matter how many flowers you gather, your bouquet won’t look its best unless you have the skill to make it so. A couple of students have taken upon itself to imbue their peers with the knowledge of flower language and the art of flower arrangement, and as a result the garden has become something of a workshop.

Mark didn't even ask before he stuck his hands into heath's bouquet. He just skittered his way up to the wyvern rider and began arranging the flowers. He had a strong suspicion that Heath himself wasn't the sort to really focus on something like this, but also that Heath wouldn't particularly mind. He deserved to look as presentable as possible, and if Mark could help with that, it was his duty to do so. With the flowers properly sorted, Mark ended by taking a lily from his own collection and slipping it into one of the button holes of Heath's coat.

"There," Mark sang, a clear look of satisfaction on his face. "Much better. I hope you don't mind. Um, hi, by the way."

Heath doesn't necessarily lack decorum, but the finer details of fancy balls and gatherings tend to escape him. He's adjusted his suit, fiddled with his flowers, and overall feels presentable, but many other ballgoers are polished in a way he just can't quite grasp.

It's not really a problem, per se. Just an observation, and something he might explore in the future.

...within the next moment is technically the future, and Heath isn't the one doing the exploring, and--

"Wha--?" Heath's instincts scream at him to retaliate to this invasion of personal space, but he's not planning on making a scene. As he freezes up, the individual continues their work, nimble hands sorting through the various flowers in his bouquet and even those accenting his outfit. "What are you...wait, Mark?"

Oh, okay. That's Mark. Mark is here, at the academy, at this ball. The young strategist who led them to victory, those years ago. Heath doesn't know him incredibly well, but the bond between Bernese defectors is a unique thing, a port in a lonely and dangerous storm.

That is to say, Heath is happy to see him again. It's just a lot.

"Some warning would be appreciated." Heath sighs, offering an awkward smile. No use in staying frustrated, and Mark's friendly eccentricity disarms any lingering malaise. "Thank you, though. It does look a lot better."

The lily resting on his coat is white as the snow that covers the peaks of their homeland stark against the darker material of the fabric. It only seems natural that he offers Mark a tulip of a similar color, and in an attempt to return the favor, he reaches to tuck the flower...uh, not a lot of great options on Mark's outfit, there. Behind his ear will have to do? His hands are bigger and clumsier than the strategist's, but this is the path he's committed to. The petals are only a little bit smushed when he pulls away.

"I can, uh. Give you another if you'd like. I just thought I'd...well, you know. Return the favor." He chuckles, nervous and poorly stifled. This is about how their interactions tend to go, as far as Heath can remember. It's oddly comforting, in a way. "Hello as well, by the way."

[stellaventia]

[ REQUEST ] - At the top of every hour, the band allows for any guest to come up and make specific requests, and for the extra bold, to sing and perform right along with them as your backup! Take the stage and belt your heart out or, for the more devious, pressure a friend to become the star of everyone’s next dance!

Mark had already heard the band announce their availability for song requests a few times, but he didn't have the heart to approach them about it. He didn't have anything particular in mind, anyway. He enjoyed the music they were performing, certainly, but what would be appropriate to request for such an event? As his eyes fell upon an old friend, an answer came to his mind. Showing everyone Nils's talents, that would certainly be worth doing.

It took considerable effort for Mark to squeeze his way through the throngs of people to reach the young bard. Mark was not exactly an imposing person. He was small and quiet, and even when he did speak up to try and excuse himself to slip past someone, his voice was often drowned out by the band or the clamor of the other partygoers. With so many of the attendees standing head and shoulders above him, it was difficult for Mark to keep sight of Nils as he tried to approach. By the time he finally managed it, Mark was visibly frazzled. He'd spent so long tidying his hair and putting on nice clothes, and now they were all dreadfully messed up by the crowds pressing against him. A frustrating turn of events, to be certain.

"Nils!" Mark greeted the boy excitedly, offering a friendly smile. "I didn't know you were here too. I'm surprised you're not up performing with the band. Do you think I could ask them to let you play with them? They're taking song requests, after all!"

“Sir Mark!” Nils greets him with a smile. “Likewise, It’s a nice surprise to see you!” He’s always known his green clad friend to be more of a reserved intellectual type, after all. “Looking quite dapper too, if I might add.”

Mark then relayed his request, one that for a moment caught Nils by surprise. “You want me to- ….Well, okay!” It didn’t take much thought for him to agree. “I never got the chance to play for you directly, Sir Mark. If you promise to dance along, I’d be happy to play a tune or two!”

As if sealing a deal, he plucked one of the orchids off his bouquet and held it out for the other boy to take. “What do you say?”

[kutolahs]

[ GOSSIP ] - For those who don’t want to be the center of attention, sitting on the sidelines and observing those who do is a time-honored tradition. Exchanging thoughts with another while doing so is a rite of passage for a student—it is a slightly worse look for the staff to take part.

Standing on the sidelines in the presence of an acquaintance was much more agreeable than having to be in the spotlight alongside anyone, at least in Mark's eyes. Just the thought of dancing, of having all of those eyes on him, of having people see how clumsy and awkward he could be, it all made Mark queasy. At least there seemed to be others who shared that sentiment, and others that were familiar to him at that. Mark couldn't say he knew what Rath was thinking most of the time, but he was fairly certain that Rath was not the sort of person to get up and dance in front of everyone.

Mark didn't actually know if he could call Rath a friend. He would like to, certainly, but that would require some degree of mutual admiration. Mark had absolutely no idea if Rath thought of him as a friend. He had no idea if Rath thought of him at all, really. It wasn't like Rath would say such a thing unprompted, and the idea of asking such a personal question was an uncomfortable one for Mark, to say the least. So he didn't ask. He didn't say much of anything, actually, simply standing alongside Rath and quietly watching the dancers. He should probably say something-- it would be rude to not at least acknowledge Rath in a friendly manner.

"...You know, I didn't expect there to be so many familiar faces here," Mark mused, green eyes briefly focusing on Rath, a faint smile offered to accompany his words. "I was worried I'd be completely alone here overseas. I'm glad that's not the case. It would be quite a bit more intimidating to work here without knowing a single other person present."

As though he hadn't been in almost that exact situation already in his previous job. As a tactician, he often had to advise people he was unfamiliar with. Still, that had been different, at least when he was working with Lyn and Eliwood and Hector. They had quickly taken up a prominent enough position in Mark's heart that he had never truly felt alone.

"...Oh, um, do you need one of these flowers, by the way?" Mark inquired, extending his bouquet of lilies. "I don't know if you're interested in the whole, um, flower collecting thing, but I figured I should at least offer."

amidst the beginning stages of the ball, some took to the center in their pursuit of excitement while others gravitated to edges in their avoidance. no matter what, the packed confines of the venue assured that these people existed in pairs or groups and that no-one—not even a solitary nomad—was truly alone.

"... ... ..."

eyes forward, shoulders square. lips unmoving. how long had rath and mark been standing side-by-side in silence? minutes? hours? for most, it would be easy to say. for rath, he failed to note that amount at all. words were burdensome; and, more than burdensome, unneeded. the one known as rath did not speak - not much, and not to anyone. often he was questioned for this absence of quality and his lack of instinct, thought strange or angry. rare were the people who understood the need for a man who suffered in silence to perpetuate it, even rarer were those who simply let be.

however, mark was one of those rare ones; someone who shared the need to shirk limelight, and even if he did not understand rath's silence, respected it. perhaps it's why, even if only ever so slightly, he cants his head at the tactician's vulnerable admission. an acknowledgement. an effort: "...i see. it is familiar to me, being alone. if i did not know anyone, and if i did, it would...make no difference."

it's the most he's spoken to mark so far. as if equalized by a great law of the universe, the same words are followed by an ungainly pause; too long to be natural and shrug off as a mistake. not that rath—who has no sensation for embarrassment—does.

instead he blinks, slow and gauging, at the appearance of the lilies. "...i have no interest in dying flowers. we of sacae discourage such senseless plucking." this might have sounded like a chastisement if it weren't for rath's matter-of-fact tone. if it weren't for the roses he held out next. "but, i will...give you these."