#support: andrei

[godofclosure]

The list the professor had given him does not exactly help in pairing unfamiliar faces to names, but it doesn't stop Andrei from sneaking a look at it as he approaches the first of his targets. She could probably be the 'Citrinne'... or perhaps the 'Embla' or 'Shamir'. All he can be certain of is that she is on his team, given she had just exited one of the huts labeled as theirs.

"Excuse me," he says, "One of the professors is looking to organize a dinner for our team, and he wishes to know everyone's food preferences." Ideally, it would be something obtainable on this island or from the staff, though he's not exactly certain what the constraints of that would be, either.

“Hm?” A mortal approaching her is strange enough. Though perhaps less strange here with the amount around and the whole ‘team’ thing, but still strange. Stranger still, that this one is asking her about food.

“If you are asking about those ‘roommates’ of mine, I wouldn’t know.” That’s the more likely scenario, if it’s about a group event. She can’t imagine why they’d invite her. That’s like asking to have a tornado storm through your village. Everything destroyed in the mayhem, everyone’s moods ruined… Or, more the second part, really. 

…But what if it is her? 

The thought is stupid. She knows that. Yet… is it too outlandish? There was a time the mortals loved her. Would bring by offerings of food — ask what she liked and disliked amongst the hoard to reference for the next time.

“…I enjoy fruits.” The god of closure mumbles the surprisingly open statement quietly, before she swiftly turns heel and takes off before any further questions can be asked. And before she can be embarrassed by the rejection sure to come.

[chosenoneofdusk]

[Coffee ] - More specifically, a mocha brewed with Almyran coffee beans and Dagdan chocolate and served with hot milk. A sweeter variation of the drink taking Fódlan by storm. 

Andrei had been told that 'coffee' is meant to be a bitter drink, its main purpose lying in its ability to keep a drinker's energy up.

(This all reminds him a little too much of the S Drink nonsense Leif had touted...)

As such, he's pleasantly surprised to find that there is a rich, sweet undertone to the taste, one that hadn't been in the descriptions he'd heard. Perhaps it had been specially modified for the festivities of tonight...

Another figure approaches the refreshments table, and Andrei looks up from his drink, noting the glint of a teardrop crystal upon her black gown.

"Nearly everything offered here is somewhat sweet to the taste, in case that is not to your liking," he says. Between the sweeter blends of tea and this coffee, not to mention the syrups added to the sparkling water, it's possible the monastery believed that such drinks would go over better with the student population. Andrei is secretly pleased by this, but does not mention it.

"Unless, of course, that suits your tastes?"

A new voice rings out to Ophelia as she approaches the refreshment table in between dances. Looking up, she sees a blond man some distance away sipping on a drink. She would wonder what drink he was partaking in, but he is speaking again before she can even think to.

"I would much rather sweet to bitter tastes. Victory is a sweet after all, and defeat is a taste most bitter!"

She takes a moment to observe the other, noticing a glint of crystal upon his visage as well. She had wondered what all these various brooches had meant, if there was to be any meaning to be had at all, and why they were all so coveted to be traded.

In all her father's letters, brooches had never once made an appearance. Perhaps they were too recent an addition to the culture of the monastery? Or perhaps temporary? However, she had heard good things came to those who collected all the various types. It wouldn't hurt to attract good fortune. Perhaps this interaction was all part of Fate's grander plan for her?

Approaching, she pulls a crystal from her brooch, as sad as it makes her to see it lose its full splendor. "Here, to good fortune for us both. Now, may I ask whatever it is are you drinking? Is it sweet as the sweetest of victories as well?"

[laslow]

[ Nohr ] - A quick-paced dance that focuses heavily on precise footwork and bold movements, evoking the image of two soldiers in battle.

With so many unfamiliar dances from various different continents this evening, it is little surprise that the majority of participants can merely hope to try their best. Particularly the dances that saw them opposite a complete stranger — it is not a strange sight to see both participants struggling through a number they knew nothing about.

It manages, nonetheless, to be more enjoyable than Andrei could imagine or admit.

The sound of heavy drums prompts another switch, and the music that follows is quick and rhythmic — almost like a war march. Andrei attempts, at least, to keep to the beat, though his attention is quickly drawn to his partner, who seems much more at ease with the tune. Either he is familiar with the music, or an experienced dancer.

"That was quite impressive," Andrei says to the other as the music comes to an end, signalling a short break for the orchestra as the dancers gradually disperse. He holds out his teardrop crystal-topped brooch in a silent offer for a swap.

"Are you from the lands that music came from, then?"

Know the steps or not, dancing's all about enjoying yourself! Laslow's made plenty of missteps while attempting to learn the unfamiliar routines. While he'd normally turn bright red out of sheer embarrassment, he's relaxed enough now to laugh it off. (It helps, knowing he's not the only one spinning when it should have been a sidestep.)

He hasn't stepped on any toes, at least, and he did manage to make a pretty girl laugh all through a rather aggressive version of the minuet, so all things considered, the night is a smashing success.

Drums replace fading flute notes. A smile blooms; finally, a court dance he does know. He bows to his former partner and is quickly shuffled around to someone new.

There's no time for introductions, and Laslow gets the impression this guy wants to focus on the dance instead of small talk. The music washes over him, seeping into his skin and the veins beneath, moving him with the grace of a dancer and a soldier's confidence.

He's breathing heavy by the time it's over, cheeks flushed a healthy shade of red. "Thank you, my friend! You weren't half bad yourself. Step in time with the drums if you ever get lost in the sequence."

Ah. A bittersweet feeling rises in his chest at the question. He gratefully seizes the opportunity for a crystal swap. gathering his thoughts as they adjust their respective brooches.

"No, but I spent enough time there to learn their dances. I'm originally from Ferox. And you?"

[princepsumbra]

[ SHOP ]

Midsommar 2022 (not accepting!)

Gifts are an easy way to assuage his guilt.

Little tokens of affection meant to express words that always stick in his throat, his pride too big a lump to swallow. Even now, a month or so after his return from his book related adventure, the image of Corrin's tear-streaked face still uneases him.

Normally he'd have long since moved on. But knowing that he nearly didn't return changed something.

He eventually finds a merchant selling little glass figurines. Animals, mainly, with a few flowers scattered about the cloth covered table. The tiny creations are no larger than three inches tall, yet surprisingly detailed. Whiskers dot a orange cat's face. A minuscule fin rests atop an equally small dolphin.

As if drawn to it, gaze lands on the dove. Its wings are poised for flight, painted eyes pointing skyward. Gently, he scoops it up, cradling it in his palm as he goes to pay.

Leo nearly bumps into Andrei on his way. Fingers curl tighter around the figurine. "Ah. Hello, Andrei. How are you?"