#teneguine

[fangedjustice]

[ Freedom ] - The sender goes against the grain and makes up their own dance moves for the receiver to follow!

"Hark! Time slips from our grasp! Fuse your form with mine own so that our combined powers can put at end to the shadowy grasp of eternal night!"

With two feet planted firmly on the ground and spread some distance apart, Odin arcs his back toward the Reed. His arms hang out to the side, index fingers pointed. The pose is demanding Lloyd to mimic it, touching fingers with the other blonde to undergo the 'fusion' he speaks of with such urgency. Odin's faced this guy before. He knows that if there's anyone whose powers are strong enough to put an end to his make-believe villain, it's Lloyd.

As is normal at an event like this -- even if it weren't so...bizarre -- there is a lot of noise. The music, the clatter of plates and glasses being gathered by the mice, the conversation and laughter and arguing. It was natural that there would be a lot of different points of noise, all warring with each other in some way to be noticed.

Lloyd just wasn't particularly expecting this specific source of noise to be directed at him.

While his battle with the man was still a bit of a haze, Lloyd did recall the voice -- bombastic, craving of attention and like he always had an audience to please. He had not had a reason to seek his foe out from the battle of the Eagle and Lion, but as soon as he heard those first few words, Lloyd knew who it was.

Hazel eyes shifted to the blond, trying to puzzle out some of what the man was quite empathically going on about. Time? Fusions? Hm, maybe he'd gotten into something a bit too strong for him? Whatever it was he was talking about, surely he couldn't be addressing him.

.....................Right?

Lloyd watches with a growing level of bewilderment as Odin gets into a...stance. He's not really sure what else to call it. Feet planted solidly apart, bent at an angle that is followed through with a curve of the back, arms held out and index fingers pointed...at him.

Lloyd glances around himself just to make absolutely sure he isn't making a mistake here.

Nope. Just him here. The drawback of trying to keep to himself, it would seem...Fate -- or, perhaps, the Elementals that are surely enjoying this display -- sure bit hard in the rear, didn't it?

Running a hand through his hair in a vague attempt to cover up his sigh of slight distress, Lloyd does his level best to ignore the wispy chuckle of Air tickling at his ear as he...endeavors to not leave the young man hanging in anticipation.

But, really, why such a...pose...

Lloyd does his best to copy it -- he really does -- but he simply doesn't have the flexibility he once had, and the discomfort of the stretch along his shoulders and back makes him grimace as he holds a rather stiff facsimile of the pose.

"...What...is this supposed to...accomplish...?"

[atypicalsenerio]

A Pleasure to Have in Class :) [Owain & Soren]

Starter for @teneguine

Soren skipped class often.

Alright, it was for his own benefit. There were few professors who could teach him better than he could himself. The library was expansive, and he saw little reason to waste time listening to lectures when he could simply walk in on exam days, ace, and leave.

Perhaps if their teachers were actually worth listening to, he’d reconsider his position. It seemed Garreg Mach was willing to hire just about anyone off the street, and Soren would take advantage of a paid position if not for how the thought of having to teach a room of his peers made him seethe with disgust. A teacher, having to give lectures, grade papers, and plan lessons? For a bunch of entitled nobles and the stray few who wanted some meaning behind their paper certification? Even gold at their rates hadn’t lured him to that yet.

But, let it not be said that he dismissed professors on sight. He’d give them a try on day one.

Owain had been a teacher for awhile, but only recently had he shown up on the official Golden Deer roster despite having taught for months. See, another sign of the ineptitude running the place, taking months to process paperwork. With his expectations low and mood mildly sour, he filed into Owain’s class, sitting in the front, cold eyes examining Owain as he began a lecture like Soren would eye a bug under a magnifying glass.

The lecture was lively, and it was fairly accurate. However, at the first slip up, Soren’s hand was already in the air, and he spoke once Owain paused, not waiting to be called on.

“Actually, the Battle of Gronder was in the year 46, not the Battle of Tailtean. That was later, in 91. I’m sure you knew that.”

[luneirika]

raiden turn the game console off right now! | team 9 iron round

Feathered wings beat rhythmically beneath her, keeping her both afloat and her nerves from fraying. The arena hasn’t changed at all but where one foe once stood now are four. Her head still aches from the cold and the deep slumber she had been pulled beneath. One she feared would never end. Her right hand clasps around the weapon she holds, not her reliable, trusted sword but a lance. Just like Ephraim and Tana. 

She can do this, she’s sure of it. The lance seems to respond to fond thought of her brother and best friend as warmth surges through her hand and into her body.

Blessed Lance restores 1 HP to Eirika Eirika has 6/10 HP remaining

With a steadying breath, she urges her pegasus to fly forward, carrying her over to Odin. Equipped with healing magic, she wonders if this too, is something she can make use of.

Eirika casts Recover on Owain Roll d20: 5! 3HP recovered Owain has 6/10 HP remaining

Eirika frowns, despondent and irritated by her meager display of skill. She’s never used white magic before but it feels as though the spell is trying to taunt her. Regardless, some of the colour returns to Odin’s face, a sign that his wounds are healing at least. “I’m sorry, that seems to be the limit of my ability right now,” Eirika confesses, struggling to look the man in the eyes. “Please, be cautious. We cannot do this without you.”

@making-dough, @viridescent-lance & @teneguine

[making-dough]

Eat your heart out, Eusine! - Team 9 Bronze Round

Arena (Winter) Bronze round starter for @teneguine , @luneirika , @viridescent-lance , @lionsword

♠  - As dreams went, this wasn’t a particularly bad one. A lot more battle arena-ish and a lot less pools of gold for her liking but it would do. At the very least, it could do with a little more adoring crowds. Wait, hold on. More importantly, she’d recognised this setup. Yep, looked like it was time for one of those weird dream arena thing again. complete with a...Huh, looks like she actually got a proper spear this time. You never could know what you were getting out of one of these events. In the mean time, she may as well check out who else had gotten dragged in this time.

Forsyth, she recognised well enough, flashing him a quick wave for greetings, but the other three she was a little less certain on. Was it just her imagination or did one of them look oddly like Lord Eliwood? Huh, must be a random cousin or something. Oh, you know those lordly-types. Too much intermarriage, cousins everywhere, the works. 

Anyway...”Let’s see what we’re dealing with and whoa!”, Farina remarked, mid-stretch, eyes wide at their apparent adversary. A sleek, shimmering blue cat-like creature with a long flowing mane and long streamers trailing behind. “Oh, damn, you’re a pretty one.”, she hummed in a low impressed whistle. Now, that was a sight to see. Maybe she could even have a go at catching it an-

As if it had sensed her thoughts, the beast tensed as if preparing to leap...Which was going to be a problem if the aim of these arenas went as they normally did. May as well get on top of that pronto, Farina had decided, sprinting forwards and ducking low and into a slide, her lance flashing a trail right across the beast’s foreleg, catching it right as it was about to leap away.

Farina attacks the Aurora Beast with Shatter Slash. - 19! Hit Dealt 1.5 Damage to the Aurora Beast! -1 Defence and Resistance to the Aurora Beast for one turn!

The Aurora Beast counters with Howling Winds ]. - 7! Barely Hit. Farina takes 1.5 Damage. 

Farina HP: 10.5/12

Aurora Beast HP: 8.5/10

She’d wound up leaving quite a gash behind on the beast - it certainly wasn’t going to go anywhere fast anytime soon. Though, uh, not without catching a shoulder-ful of the cold winds it had let loose in response. “Damn, this thing's chilly.”, the mercenary remarked, patting herself down of the snow and sleet and other cold bits she’d just taken a shoulder-ful of. Looks like this thing wasn’t going to go down without a fight. Just how she’d liked it. 

[exclted]

"Lucina! Did you see them too?"

Owain nearly breaks down his cousin's door with how abruptly he barges in. Arms come flying in a display of urgency, just dying to dump everything off his battle-laden chest.

"There was holy Sigurd and the usurping Leif! And the princess from Nohr!" Referring to the Emblems, naturally. Owain remembers well how cool they were to face, and the harsh beating that came along with them. He nearly spits on Lucina trying to get the words out of his mouth.

"But most important of all..." A pause so he can flash a display with his arms, striking the kind of pose that emulates a pair of important people, "Uncle Chrom! And the tactician, Robin!"

"They were all super cool, with their flaming moves of heroic justice and legendary weapons of yore! So I got to thinking..." always a bad day whenever that happens, "What if we could be in the next training gauntlet? We could even have our own moves, like Awakening of the Fifth Sin, or Fate-Changing Strike!"

He smirks and crosses his arms over his torso, having firmly believed that he'd come up with a great idea.

"And naturally, our Brands would power up our swords in battle."

Owain does not take Lucina by surprise anymore. Theirs has always been an open door policy, and as her own slams shut behind him, all she can do is sigh her relief upon seeing him well.

"...you saw Father?" She had not, in fact, seen any of the faces he names. Though miserably she does recall the cut of Lyn's blade, so perhaps it wasn't all that farfetched.

But her cousin, characteristically, seemed to have experienced that round of the simulation with a far brighter outlook. She ought to take a page out of his book, it's been too long since she has learned from a defeat rather than wallow in it.

"Fate-Changing Strike... I do like how that rolls off the tongue..."

A thoughtful tap of her finger against her chin and then Lucina nods finally, as though this decision had been one of the utmost importance.

"Yes, I think this is a phenomenal idea." Not that she knows how one goes about becoming a part of that nightmare, or that her experience inside of it makes her think it would be anything other than awful, but it does sound a little fun.

And, at the end of it all, she's just glad the taste of blood in her mouth had not been real. That, at the end of it all, the both of them have lived to have this conversation.

Princess smiles, because what else is there to do when pondering one's gratitude for something as simple and grand as life, and tilts her head to the side.

"Now for your move... how were you thinking it might go?"

[disgracedvessel]

"Cheer and rejoice! Delight and jubilate! Today, I come to you bearing the most powerful of news!"

Boom. Owain's hand shoots out from his side, and the rolled-up parchment held within unfurls itself to reveal a list of the monastery's records. More specifically, enrollment dates, with Julius' underlined in red ink, circled, and pointed to by at least thirty giant arrows. How he got a hold of this is unknown, but it's best not to bring it to the attention of the Archbishop.

"Don't you see, o fated ally of the Band of the Crow? Eons ago, your soul traversed the astral plane to take residence in these gilded halls! And so, I shall declare this a national holiday: everyone shall quiver in awe at my Julius Day!"

He looks proud of himself. Really proud. A toothy grin spreads from cheek to cheek, angled in a way that fills it with confidence. And his eyes--ashen orbs of destiny and doom--glimmer in the sun's early light. The day's only just begun, but Professor Oberon Dark is already ablaze with energy.

"Picture it now: the skies will don their reddish hue, and call forth their malignant clouds to rain blood upon the land! And your soul shall be imbued with untold power, brimming at the chance to go KABOOM! FWOSHHA!! and unleash its might onto sinners across the land!"

"Together you and I shall be the bleeding-edge heroes of justice! With this huge power-up, nothing can stop us!"

It had been a while since Julius had last seen Oberon. Were it not for Andrei, he might have been content to consign his memory to the storybooks of a half-year ago, along with his penchant for over-exaggerated turns of phrase. A colorful character, but a character nonetheless. Of course, Julius had seen him around the monastery since - had sought him out to serve him personally - but with the events in Rusalka, it was harder to separate reality from dream for his recent experiences.

But here he is again, in the flesh, competing with the morning's songbirds and roosters for daybreak's proclamation. Julius grimaces from the sharp reverb the man's voice makes against the stone walls and rubs the base of his palm into his temple. He hadn't even had breakfast yet, much less his morning tea.

"What is it? Are you renouncing your loyalty to your former prince to pledge your service to me instead?" he asks in the small space between Oberon's declarations, then squints at the red-marked enrollment list he holds up for him to see.

Had it been two years already? Realization snakes paralyzing, icy tendrils through his body. Two years. He stares at his entrance date in mute astonishment. Two years and what was there to show for it? He was no closer to reclaiming his status than he was when he first arrived.

"--Julius Day!"

He shakes his focus back to the present and scowls. "What are you talking about?" Oberon seems to be positively glowing with this announcement though. Was he serious? Julius' scowl unwinds slightly, arms uncross. He was serious. So he schools his sullen look into a proud mask to match, pulling lips into a smirk, lifting his chin, gathering an energy to tower over Oberon in a metaphysical sense.

"Hmph. You're brighter than I suspected. Imperial holidays such as this one have reached the ears of few in Fódlan. So--" He lets out a huff of laughter. "You've been bestowed this new power alongside me so that you may spread the word to the ignorant. I trust your... thunderous talents shall serve you well in this endeavor." For now, his need to remain hidden goes forgotten. "Let it be known to all that today will be dedicated to the eminent Prince Julius of Velthomer."

[justicefanged]

GIVE HIM THE CHAIR

There was a raging buzz of excitement in the air, and even if the guy shouting over the crowd was obnoxious as hell, Linus was taking it all in like it was something he needed to live.

While violence for violence's sake wasn't something that his father had instilled in him, Linus had always enjoyed throwing his weight around and testing the strength of those around him. It was never with the intent to kill or seriously harm -- though that definitely happened, Linus could get caught up in the pulse of a fight way too easily to avoid hurting someone. It was all about seeing how he measured up, where he could get stronger, better.

And an underground fighting ring? That just slapped of his kind of place. No rules, no one to step in and break it up. You either won or you lost. A true test of who was stronger.

Linus grinned, the tip of his tongue playing at a sharp canine as he let himself get caught up in the noise and the energy, and fuck yeah it was time for a fucking fight!

He really didn't know what that guy was yapping on about, but with a blast of flashy magic, it seemed like shit was finally about to get started!

"'Bout fuckin' time! Thought you were gonna keep blowin' hot air forever!" Linus whooped with excitement, waving a dismissive hand at Owain as he leaps into the space cleared out for the fight. Oh yeah, this was absolutely his kind of place. "I don't know 'bout you folks, but I came here for a damn good fight! Who's feelin' brave enough to face the Mad Dog, huh?! If ya can't handle a li'l blood, don't even bother steppin' in here with me!"

@luminousrider

[ofdusk]

vine compilation

[...] The vines close the entryway from which you came, and, looking ahead, you find that the ruins are, in fact, a huge maze. To make matters worse, the vines that now prevent you from leaving don’t seem to be content to stop there. All around you, the labyrinth shifts and changes; the walls move, the plants snake and snap. You and your companion must hack and cut your way through and find a way out, lest you intend to bury yourselves in a grave that never needs to beg for flowers. [Grants Sword +1]

“Hey!”

Shoulders jerk inwards as Corrin yelps. Crimson eyes narrow, shooting a very pointed glare at the offending vine as it retreats back into the animated wall of foliage that surrounds them. Her posture relaxes finally once her assailant has disappeared, and a hand moves to investigate the fabric of her sleeve.

The tip of her finger slips through a newly torn hole in the fabric. Wonderful. Dragon huffs a frustrated sigh, abandoning her sleeve. She’ll just have to ask Forrest to fix that later.

“Is this thing... alive?” She can hear her husband’s voice chide her the moment that the words have left her mouth -- “They’re plants, Corrin. Of course they are alive, Corrin.” -- but that doesn’t stop a curious hand from reaching out towards the writhing vines regardless.

Only to be yanked backwards a mere breath later as yet another tendril snakes outward to grab at her. Sure, she should have seen it coming, but that doesn’t stop her mouth from screwing itself into a frown. Rude.

Eyes turn now to her company, a sort of pleading to them. Their entrance has been sealed completely now, layers of angry plant life only multiplying and locking them in further. It’s undeniable at this point that their only option is to hope there is an exit at the other end of the ruins before them, but then Leo always has had quite creative retainers.

Odin just.. has his quirks.

“What do you think we should do,” a pause -- what was it he called himself? -- oh, er... hero of darkness?” Corrin cringes. At least she tried. “Any suggestions?”

@teneguine ♡ !!