#spearofruin

[fellstcr]

@spearofruin​ / (ch.4 ; the goddess’ rite of rebirth)

⚔️ //  sylvain  gautier.  his  name  was  written  at  the  top  of  a  journal  page.  beneath  were  a  few  notes  on  grades  ,  expertise  ,  successes  and  failures  ,  all  penned  in  the  professor’s  lopsided  cursive  scrawl.  she’d  pressed  her  fingers  together  when  she  had  ended  her  lecture  and  dismissed  the  class  for  the  afternoon.  all  except  one.

            “sylvain.”  byleth  called  out  ,  cutting  through  the  idle  chatter  of  the  blue  lions  as  they  filtered  out.  “i’d  like  to  speak  with  you  a  moment.”

[starkete]

M-Marianne's... mom. Real.

Milf...

He's not sweating.

He's not sweating.

He opens his mouth.

But, oh Sweet Goddess -- that's Ingrid, coming in low and hard, tackling him into the pond!!!

astra does not laugh at, nor does she verbally acknowledge the spectacle playing out before her. ( living so long, she hardly registers humans attempting to flirt with her anymore. the wounds of losing adair still are fresh on her heart. ) she watches that poor human boy get tackled by a blonde head of hair into the fishing pond.

as she approaches these children, her sunset glare sets a quiet over the gathered crowd of rowdy children.

it’s not hard to see where marianne gets it from, but in the same breath . . . astra is the complete opposite of them. the slightly bored demeanor, the way she held her head high, the way she walked with a purpose.

“ you. child. ” she points a finger at the redhead in the pond, demanding attention in the way a well seasoned general commandeered a war-table. “ tell me. where is marianne, during this time of day ? and where does one find the newest professor ? i wish to speak with them. and speak quickly- my time is far too valuable to waste on such foolish displays of stupidity. ”

@spearofruin​

[of-invisible-ties]

@spearofruin​ II Starter Call

Today, Eligor had called Sylvain to the training grounds for one simple purpose: a one-on-one spar, no holds barred. He presents Sylvain with a training lance, knowing full well that was his student’s preferred weapon. Eligor himself drew a training sword. 

“You said you wanted to kill me, right?”

“So listen up! If you don’t get it out of your system now, it’ll come back to bite us later. Now, pick up your lance and fight me like you mean it!”

[locktap]

@spearofruin​

Camp was finally beginning to quieten down, the troops turning in for the night one by one—though Ashe didn’t think he’d be joining them any time soon. He'd been the first to start assembling the fire, and now he was the last one left sitting beside it, warming his hands idly against the glow.

He knew he had no reason to be restless. This outing had been a reconnaissance mission that resulted in no reconnaissance; it was unlikely the night would see an ambush befall them. But knowing that didn’t soothe his mind much. He wasn’t really thinking about ambushes anyway.

In his peripheral vision, he recognised Sylvain more by shape than features. He lifted his head, flashing a cursory smile. “This would be a fine environment for ghost stories, wouldn’t it.” Only an abundance of caution made clarify what been an offhanded comment. “Not that I'm asking if you know any.”

[snow-dxnce]

plotted starter for @spearofruin

The Professor had paired everyone up with a partner to train with for the rest of the week, and Eve just so happened to be paired with the ever infamous Sylvain of house Gautier; known and scorned across the school by men and women alike. Although Eve never really paid much mind to the academy’s gossip, very much inside her own head most of the time, many stories reached her ears by way of one of her stranger hobbies, people watching- which... often included eavesdropping. 

With that in mind, it stunned her that one of the first things out of his mouth wasn’t overtly flirtatious in nature- rather, a request. 

“You... You’re interested in learning how to dance...?” Eve questioned, mouth slightly agape in her shock. She nervously nibbled on her lip and toyed with her braid, letting the thought simmer in her mind before she could say anything else. 

They were supposed to be training in Reason, but no one had ever been interested in learning how to dance... let alone learning from her. The fact that he hadn’t brushed her off entirely to go fool around with a girl like the rumors said was enough to floor her. 

“Um... Alright! I take it you want to learn ballet? It can be really hard for beginners, so we should take it slow. We can do some stretches first... you’ll be stiff otherwise, and being stiff means you’re more liable to hurt yourself,” 

[regancrested]

     ❝            sylvain  ?  can’t  say  i  have  seen  him  around.            ❞

 of  course  he  knew  where  the  to  be  margrave  is,  but  what  is  there  to  be  gained  from  telling  seteth  all  that?  certainly  it  wouldn’t  gain  him  any  favors  from  him  so  claude’s  lips  remain  shut.     ❝      you  best  ask  ingrid  or  perhaps  dimitri.      ❞     they  seemed  to  consider  it,  after  all,  they  are  his  friends  are  they  not.  a  nod  follows  before  they  excuses  themselves  whilst  the  house  leader  watches  them  leave.  once  certain  he  is  no  longer  around,  he  speaks  up  again.     ❝      you  can  come  out  now.      ❞

turning  around  he  looks  at  the  blue  lion  student.     ❝      now  i  cannot  help  but  wonder  what  you  did  to  make  him  look  for  you,      ❞     a  pause,     ❝       did  you  try  to  flirt  with  flayn  or  something  ?      ❞

@spearofruin​ || starter call

[costofwar]

@spearofruin​ || Unprompted

"We both know you're going to win the joust. So, let's make it exciting, at least -- don't down me in two tilts. Let's go for the best of three. It'll make you look good since you'll win, and if I at least get a lance off you, it'll make me look good, too. Everyone wins."

          “Come now, Sylvain, you sell yourself far too short.” He fixes the other with a look, eyebrows drawn. “Should they catch wind of a fixed match would it not look unfavorable for us both?” After all, it wasn’t like Ferdinand to pull his punches even if it was some friendly sparring. He cared little about how it made him look. Maybe at one point in time he would’ve, but here and now he was more concerned with doing his best.

          He finishes snapping his gauntlets on before giving them one last glance over. The training lances are retrieved and he passes one off to Sylvain. Any surprise he may feel has been long gone when it comes to the other’s habits. Perhaps knowing Sylvain and war contributed to such factors. No matter the circumstances Sylvain would always be who he is at his core, noble status notwithstanding.

          “I am sure you can best me if you put your mind to it.” He gives him an encouraging smile as he pats his shoulder. “Do not give up so soon when you may impress with a victory based on your own prowess.”

[obsidiansong]

@spearofruin said: While of course Sylvain isn't envious -- he doesn't have the right to be -- he does feel a pang of jealousy at the sight of the professor ruffling Bernie's hair as a sign of a job well done. The path forward, however, is obvious: he dismounts his horse after giving it an amiable pat and lines up after the shut-in, head tilted forward to allow Byleth proper access to his head, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Of course, he says nothing. Just gives her that goofy idiot grin. 

Byleth certainly wasn’t expecting this; she had elected to give Bernadetta praise for her hard work primarily for the fact that the girl seemed so averse to coming out of her room. The professor hoped that regular positive encouragement would ease her into the idea of coming out of her own volition more frequently, but didn’t expect - perhaps erroneously - that some of the others might want similar validation.

So, in response to Sylvain’s approach and wordless request for similar praise, Byleth could only blink in surprise for a few moments, before finally registering what was being silently communicated to her. And so, she did ultimately concede, bringing her hand up again to reach up and headpat the young man, perhaps tousling up his already-somewhat messy hair a bit more than before in the process.

“You did good work as well, today, Sylvain.”