#support: hapi

[bigbadbaltie]

"i didn't have wrapping paper. here, just act surprised." and what exactly does she hand him? that once-in-a-lifetime coolest pair of gauntlets, of course. if nothing else, balthus did have an eye for gear. hopefully this set would hold up until he found his next one. there was no rest for the king of grappling, not as long as there was trouble to be found and fists to see flown.

"happy 'b' day. see what i did there?" empty now, hapi's palm claps against his back, the other hand perching upon her hip. "i'm sure you've been shooting your shot enough times to have at least one date lined up"—after all, it'd just be plain sad if he didn't—"but next time you're free, we can head to the tavern."

she'll treat big birthday baltie to a round, maybe even two. it's what pals do.

Balthus turns on his heel the second he hears Hapi's voice, his signature grin already gracing his features-- sometimes, it feels like it's rare for her to be the one to approach him, but he'll take this. It's almost like some sort of victory, and he lets out a raucous laugh before slapping his hands together. She does, however, mention.... something about wrapping paper? And when his eyes glance down, the fearless King of Grappling can't suppress the gasp that comes. He feels like a kid when he lets out a higher pitched laugh, along with a few eager hops up and down. Turns out, even with all his babbling, Hapi listens. Somehow, there was never a doubt in his mind that she didn't tune him out entirely. "Woaaaaaah, say, what's the occasion? Are pigs flyin' outside the monastery or something?" Well, his answer comes in the next heartbeat. One blink, two blinks, and his jaw remains slack. "... You remembered? Hah! Hahaha!" It's only natural for his expression to soften as he carefully runs his fingers over the gauntlets offered, all bravado and unflinching eagerness faltering for only a second. "Kinda crazy. I didn't even think about it. Means a lot to me, Hapi. Really." Turns out when you're on the run and generally in some sort of trouble, people don't really bother to keep such dates in mind. So Balthus does what Balthus does best, following his heart. And he wraps a giant arm around her shoulders to pull her into his side for a gentle hug, laughter rumbling in his chest. Where his family might be miles and miles and miles away... what he thinks might be his real family sits right here next to him. "Hey, I'm free now. What do you think? It's not a date, sure, but I think I'd take your company over a lot of others. C'mon!"

[goldoanheart]

Phantom Rider

This territory has been experiencing heightened monster activity, especially after the recent attack. The Alliance greatly appreciates any assistance you can offer to make the area safer and protect the citizens. Your enemies aren’t too much different from what you’re used to, but a few have a more… ghostly aura about them. On an open field, you see a massive paladin on a monster of a horse, both clad in golden armor, patrolling the area. You won’t catch up with him on foot, but perhaps with a horse… [Grants Riding + 1]

starter for @ashen-curse

Kurth was not much of a fighter, but for the greater good, sometimes he figured that it was necessary. Of course, that didn’t mean that he was going to like it. He hated fighting, it was one of the things in this world that he despised more than anything. He sighed softly, so far everything had been fine, enemies were practically fodder to him and his more talented companion. Luckily, they did not seem to bleed as readily as they would have from a weapon as they did from magic. Frankly, it was huge relief for him, though he was not completely safe. He felt dizzy even looking at what blood they did spill, sickening to the point where he had to avert his eyes just to stay upright on his horse. He petted the creature gently, grateful that it seemed to be obeying his orders for the most part. He glanced across the field, startled by the seemingly sudden appearance of a golden clad warrior atop a horse armored in a similar manner. Ah, so this is the kind of thing they were dealing with here. He turned to his companion, pointing the paladin out to the young beorc girl.

“Look there little one, perhaps we should keep our eyes on that knight. I wonder if that’s what we were sent here to dispatch...”

[bigbadbaltie]

♡

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

"Y'know, Hapi doesn't really wear her heart on her sleeve or anything like that. I think she's kinda hard to read sometimes, and there's days where she's prickly-- but in the end, I think she deserves it. Can't imagine what it's like to have people treat you with kiddie gloves just 'cuz they're afraid of what you can do. That, and the assumption that she doesn't have control over her own talents..." "In the end, there's been plenty of times Hapi coulda left me for dead. I'm not her responsibility. But... despite that, she's stuck her neck out for me a couple times. She watches my back, and I watch hers; and, well.... I think she's a good friend of mine. Whether that's returned or not doesn't particularly matter, because she's stuck with me. Hahaha!" "She's got a good heart. A good head on her shoulders. Life ain't been kind to those of us in Abyss, but she keeps goin'. Truth be told, I admire her. I'll make sure that one day she gets to sigh all she wants with nothin' to worry about, trust me."

[bigbadbaltie]

27. The last battle...‎ ‎  10. Exploring the monastery...‎ ‎  58. Hopes for your future...‎ ‎ 

"so, got any plans on paying off all your debts?" as always, patrol is too boring without something—anything for her to talk about. "or are you just gonna take them to the grave? every time you get your hands on some gold, it just goes right down the drain."

Hands behind his head, he can't do anything but heave a sigh big enough for the both of them-- except he stops halfway through, remembering that maybe it's not too nice to do that in her company. Instead, he nearly chokes on it, coughing a few times with watering eyes before getting his shit together. "Well... only way I could really get outta them all would be to get clear outta Fodlan." Not a horrible thought, honestly; there's a lot more freedom to be had in the world outside of this nation than there is in it. That means he'd be leaving behind a lot of loved ones, though, and he wouldn't exactly want to leave his brother to his step-mother's devices. Balthus still has unfinished business here. "I don't really like that idea. Not right now, anyways." "The Church takes my pay to get rid of my debt to 'em, so at least I'm payin' them off. Sure wish that left me with any kinda pocket change, though.... As for the debt collectors?" That's when he flashes his biggest shit-eating grin, glancing down at her. "I'm pretty fast. They'll have to catch me first! I'll make good on those debts eventually, though. Just- uh- in the meantime...."

[bigbadbaltie]

hapi lets out a low whistle, hands in her pockets. how many times is that now? eleven, twelve, thirteen or... she's definitely lost count.

“yikes. really killing it out there, b. and by ‘killing it’, i mean my appetite.” but she's got to hand it to him. rule of threes and all that, any guy should be reevaluating himself before the fourth rejection, but balthus just keeps going no matter how many times he strikes out. it's no wonder the gambling dens love him more than the maidens do.

where he's crouched on the ground from despair (or shame? nah, he's got none) or otherwise, she prods him with her knee. nothing short of steel-forged discipline has been keeping her from letting out a sigh at his sad little stunts, but who knows how long that'll last. “even i'm bound to slip up if i have to keep watching this. come on patrol with me if you haven't got anything better to do.”

99% of gamblers quit before they hit it big. Hasn't she ever heard of that completely true not-at-all false statement? If he strikes out now, then all of his efforts before would've been for nothin'; and he's nothing if not hard-headed. A couple dozen failures.... lift your head up, King, your crown is falling.

Smacking his cheeks with both palms, Balthus lets out a HRRRGHGHGHHGHRHGH of determination before glancing up at Hapi. Dark brows knit and his lower lip jutting in the worst possible visage of a heartbroken Grown Man, he slowly pushes himself to his feet once she's had her fill of poking and prodding a guy while he's down. Even if that 'down' is a record-breaking 5 seconds. All it takes is a quick run of his palms through his hair and an adjustment of his coat to feel like a new man! A new winner! A new CHAMPION. He's been through worse. "You'll see yet, Hapi! Keep your eyes peeled, it's only a matter of time before you see me winning." The lopsided smile flashed in her direction is meant to be charming, but it falls a little flat considering he'd been pondering the meaning of life about 30 seconds ago. "They can't keep the King down. But yeah, sure, I'll go on patrol-- I think there's a couple guys mad at me for, uh... askin' their boo out for dinner. Seems like a good idea to lay low for a minute or two. You feel me?"

[filthtouched]

"What the hell happened to you? And to everyone else, too." Hapi was leaning against a nearby wall, her expression neutral- aside from the mild, confused frown in her brows. "You know, it won't make things any easier for the group if you and the rest keep being careless."

Yet, she still approached Niles, stopping a few feet before him. "I gotta thank you, though. For helping me gets those clothes."

Roll 1D20 = 1, HP +1

She placed one hand on Niles' arm, allowing the weak healing magic to flow through and patch up some wounds. Some.

He looks well enough to stay up, plus she had to store up energy in case things went south. It would do no good to use up everything now and then not even be able to cast a simple Miasma in battle from exhaustion.

"Just be more careful."

It doesn’t get him feeling right as rain, but it’s still something—and that’s more than Niles is used to receiving. (It’s as Azura surmised: you’ve not made any friends, have you? Well, what of enemies?

Ha! What of enemies, indeed…)

“Oh, nothing too exciting. Lost a hand, gained a hand… nothing I wouldn’t have been able to supplement with my tongue.” Other than what matters. The bow remains strapped to his back; it’ll hurt for a while to fire it, he’s sure, but at least he still can, thanks to Maria’s benevolence. (It’ll get her killed one day, though. Maybe here. Maybe from someone like him.)

“I don’t think helping you get a coat is worth any thanks,” he continues, “but I appreciate your healing regardless…” Hm. He’d have to give her a little nickname too, wouldn’t he? If they’re to repay each other for everything, it’d only be fair. “…Pinkie.”

Better than PiPi, he supposes. He’s never been good with nicknames.

[filthtouched]

What a bother, nobody seemed familiar in this group she was assigned to. Not that she knew many people- she barely even tried to interact with others, but Hapi hoped to find at the very least one or two faces she could at least tie a name to.

Anyway, she needed to find clothes for this dang desert they were going to in a few days. Temperatures didn't bother her, but she wasn't stupid. Deserts where a whole 'nother problem, one she never went through, and she was pretty sure this uniform couldn't handle it well.

She spotted a guy that seemed a little different from the rest of the students. Messy hair, an eyepatch. The way he held himself reminded her of Yuri.

"Hey, eyepatch." Well, it felt better to try to talk to him than to fish for one of these nobles' attention. He did look like he was of her and the Wolves' kin, even if he was a regular student of the Academy. "We're on the same team. Going to Sreng or something."

"Do you know where to find clothes that fit that place? They said it was cold and I'm not a fan of the idea of getting hypothermia."

...Yeah. If Sreng is as cold as they say, with a winter that's managed to linger longer than normal, then she's definitely going to freeze well before they reach their destination—wherever the hell that might end up being.

"If you're worried about the cold, I can think of some other things we could do to help warm you up," Niles replies, filthy grin and all. But they're heading out into the unknown, looking for gods knows what, and if all the teary concern he's seen shared throughout the school thus far has any merit, then it isn't going to be an easy task at all. Loath as he is to admit it, this is likely going to be another case where he has to play nice with everyone involved.

(...at least, until there comes a moment where a sacrifice needs to be made. Niles is certain that everyone here has a reason to return safely, whether it's a loved one, a family member, or even their aspirations alone. He also doesn't care. If push comes to shove, Niles is shoving—because this life isn't his to live anymore, and it'll only be by Leo's hand that he'll die.)

"But lucky for you, I was just on my way to swing by the markets and see if they have anything warmer. I'm not normally one to wear coats or bundle myself like a little mummy, but better that than risk losing some fingers to frost. Feel free to join me; I'm never going to say no to a willing partner."

[filthtouched]

[ look ]

It begins with a child.

He’s 7, maybe 8—a scrawny little thing that easily moves between the individuals milling about in the marketplace, easily missed to all but the most discerning eye. To Niles, that little boy is the only one he can see.

He’s fidgeting nervously, caught between a fruit stall and a bakery. The bread would be the better option, but it’s a harder reach; the fruit is easier, but it wouldn’t fill him for long. He bites his lip. He digs his heel into the dirt. He takes a step, having decided on the bread, and—

“Hm.”

—is stopped by a hand on taking his own, pressing a coin into his palm.

“You should’ve gone for the fruit,” Niles says, releasing the boy’s hand. “But—”

The boy shoves past him, holding the coin tightly to his chest. Niles considers giving chase, but the boy slips through the crowd with a familiar sort of ease. Nothing too difficult to follow, but he feels the hair on the back of his neck rise, every honed sense warning him that he wasn’t simply being noticed; he was being watched.

The culprit is… a girl. A woman, actually, with clothes that looked entirely like it belonged at the Officer’s Academy, except it’s entirely the wrong color—and he’s sure that he hasn’t seen her around. Ever.

“Don’t be shy,” he grins, wariness slipped carefully behind his normal veneer. “I won’t bite if you want to touch.”