graceless.

[flagdodge]

"Look, it's not even anything special. It's just a lamp. Not even a good one, I'm just trying to make sure the cup won't explode..."

It's the nicest words they've gotten to come out of his mouth so far, like pulling teeth -- an effort made carefully, so as not to send yet another person away. Louis isn't nice. That's the point of him, after all, something they can't control: even if they can control him, they can't control the functions he's built with...even here, it seems. (Just when Talia thought maybe they'd be out of those constraints! No! No! This fucking island still has them!)

Fingers idly snap, the sound muted by the thick padding of his fingers; the small, glowing orb resting in a cup flickering in-and-out each time, a small display. The woman's single eye remains fixed on it, the light casting shadows on and off her face, lighting up her wire-copper hair (it's a pretty color, but they're sure any compliment they try to make will come out wrong, as always -- this damned mouth makes sure of it).

"You don't got magic where you're from, or something?"

@thybrilliance show ophie a funny magic trick

[thybrilliance]

   ⠀In the light's constant bobbing movement, it may be difficult to see it— but the ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth all the same.     ❛ ⠀I do, actually,⠀❜  Ophelia replies in a mild tone, soft and polite; they're a little gruff, but as far as mages go, there's hardly any bite to his bark.    ❛ ⠀Although we refer to it as 'magecraft'. Usually, magecraft is used in a much more specialized way... it involves a high risk each time you cast, therefore the reward must be equally high. That's how it's treated where I'm from.⠀❜ 

   ⠀Certain low-level magecraft is, ideally, taught to any student that's even fourth-rate— and of course, anything can be used for mischief or amusement if exploited properly. But for the most part, the secretive nature of a mage and the dedication required of study meant that 'frivolous' pursuits— albeit subjective— are best left to the wayside. So seeing a form of magic used in a more whimsical way is... well, it's a little fun.     ❛ ⠀Maybe it's not anything special to you, but I think it's creative. What else can you do ?⠀❜  

[bemawed]

Her breath labored, she retreated down the twilit length of the Opalarian Market Town, darting between the meandering night-crowd. Reaching the edge of the street's golden lights, she plodded to a stop and doubled over, hands clutched to her knees as she breathed calm into her frightened heart. Drawn by her distress, the market's spirits formed out of the remaining flecks of daylight and thronged around her, waving their translucent, watery hands in vague soothing motions that quieted the cawing of blood in her ears. Their peaceful presence aiding her recovery, she unsteadily stood straight to speak low assurances to them with accompanying hand signs. They chanted back in short, indistinct words she didn't understand until their shimmering bodies turned toward someone hovering nearby.

Unsure if the woman saw her frantic dash through the market, Reier breathed an unsteady laugh before casting her eyes toward one of the spirits, guiding the other woman's attention. "They're here. The spirits. Can you see them?" She then offered a meek smile.

"They noticed you first... I guess they recognize pretty things like people can, eheh."

@thybrilliance

[thybrilliance]

   ⠀❛ ⠀I can see them just fine.⠀❜ ⠀Her demeanor can easily be mistaken for wariness, lingering just outside of a respectable distance as one hand clutches at the opposite arm. It isn't trepidation that gives her pause— she's trying to assess the situation despite the dim lighting. At first Ophelia was worried these were opportunistic spirits taking advantage of this stranger's weakened state... but she doesn't seem all too bothered by their presence.

   ⠀Tension leaves her bunched-up shoulders as she strides closer, visible eye scanning the stranger head to toe.     ❛ ⠀I saw you running... are you hurt ? … Oh, and— thank you,⠀❜  she tacks on somewhat awkwardly, having only just processed the compliment offered her way.     ❛ ⠀For saying that.⠀❜  

[hopeled-archive]

it's silly to cry, some small voice in her head says. prior to this, the last time she cried was when the Avengers had to leave. that memory causes another sharp jab of pain for an entirely different reason but that was not about this.

she has to gain some composure, otherwise how can she answer that burning question? inhaling sharpy, hands raise to furiously wipe away the ever-flowing tears, eyebrows furrowingas her gaze fell onto the note in her hands.

"Kadoc." it sounded silly. after all, she would have thought that it wasn't Kadoc's in any way either. since when did he write like that? it seemed different than what Ritsuka thought but that was....his journal. and his note. and had she not seen him leave with her own eyes, had Lancer not confirmed his death, she would have thought it was a joke.

' I'm going to die. Just let it happen.'

stupid. how could she just let it happen? but they had to. they had to or else everything would have been for nothing and– a sharp intake of breath as Ritsuka forces her brain to stop from going down that path as her hands come to wrap carefully around the leather-bound journal, cradling it as if it was the most precious metal in the world.

".....Did you know that Akuta was secretly an incarnated Elemental? She's....well, she's a Servant now, oddly enough. Kirschtaria....was stabbed by Beryl on Olympus after we fought. Daybit is in the underworld with his Servant and Pepe~" a hand tucks some of her hair behind her ears, hating the way it was starting to stick to her cheeks. " That son of a bitch Beryl is the reason why he's dead, too. " but that thing is also gone from this world (good riddance) but Ritsuka keeps that last part to herself. no matter how much she despised that man....he was still Ophelia's former teammate.

"......it was just–just me and Kadoc left for the longest time. He was in a coma but after waking up, started to help us." under extreme circumstances at first but quickly becoming a trusted ally. " And then there– there was this court, this humanity court and w-we had to answer for our crimes against humanity because Marisbury had tricked everybody and–it was going fine and then Raspu– I mean Kotomine showed up and he was the prosecutor and everything was going fine but he t-turned it around on Kadoc and what he did against Chaldea and–"

she's talking too fast, stumbling over her words, hiccups puncturing every breath as she furiously blinks away these stupid, stupid tears that refused to stop. " He said to let him die and I couldn't– I couldn't I mean how did he expect me to just let him do that?! It was going fine and t-then he was guilty and he had to die and I don't understand– I was guilty too how come I didn't–!" she's hardly making sense anymore. she knows none of this will make sense to Ophelia but the cracks in the wall are growing by the second and all she can think about is how it all fell down.

[thybrilliance]

   ⠀— What...?

   ⠀Fujimaru keeps talking— words are bubbling out of her mouth like she'll collapse if she stops talking— but it's difficult to focus on them when it feels like there's a hand wrapped around Ophelia's throat.

   ⠀The news hits Ophelia so much harder than she ever would've predicted. Kirschtaria had told her not to worry about Kadoc's wellbeing, or bother the other Crypters with it for that matter... That alone told her he was likely not dead, at least— but to think he was able to join Chaldea for such a long time...

   ⠀When Olga informed her of Kirschtaria's failure— no, his demise... it was a knife to the heart like no other. She didn't expect a vivid pain like that... but she also didn't expect this to give her a similarly potent ache. Fujimaru is saying things that fly out faster than Ophelia can catch them— Hinako being an Elemental, Daybit in the Underworld, Pepe... … Ahh, Pepe...!

   ⠀I'm the only one left. … But that's not really true, is it ?

   ⠀The correct phrase is that none of them are left... but she's the only Crypter present on this island— so, in a way... she is the only one left. Nothing remains of Team A aside from Mashu Kyrielight. Nothing remains of Kirchstaria's plan, not even Kirschtaria himself. For all intents and purposes, they were all coworkers at best from the outside looking in— and she's sure the bulk of them would think even less of one another… and yet, her expressions shift in rapid motion as emotions mix and broil in her core. Fear— anger— remorse— confusion— … heartache. None of these things would help Fujimaru, though— nor would anything else she has to say make sense if things continue. That brash Archer comes to mind rather abruptly, as if he invited himself in— the way he'd all but hijacked her mind, connecting them in order to derail her thoughts. She may not be able to form that sort of connection, but she can at least take a page out of his book.

   ⠀❛ ⠀Ritsuka.⠀❜ ⠀Ophelia's hand claps down onto her shoulder with surprising strength, and her voice cuts through like steel— leaving no room for discussion. Her free hand still holds onto the piece of paper she was given— carefully to ensure it doesn't crumple, with all the severity of holding a treasured relic. A couple of fingers drift up from Fujimaru's shoulder to gingerly wipe at her tears; she can feel the skin is stressed beneath her eyes, no doubt caked in tears that already dried.  ⠀❛ ⠀That's enough. I asked who it was, and you answered. You don't have to tell me everything right this second... So take a breath. Look down at the flowers. I'm not going anywhere.⠀❜ ⠀

[thybrilliance]

   ⠀There's an Alien God in the flower shop.

   ⠀Ophelia only knew select things about the being the Crypters were adherent to, and most of those things were learned on this very island by word of mouth. She's very much aware that she resembles Olga Marie, Chaldea's original Director— which she only knows because this being once chased herself and Olga through a museum that came to life. What the real connection there was, she can only venture guesses. Truthfully, she's tried not to dwell on it too much.

   ⠀So why not? Why wouldn't she enter a flower shop only to see that very being hovering there? The mage should probably feel a bolt of fear run through her right about now... Maybe under different circumstances, she would. Maybe she should know better by now than to make eye contact with otherworldly beings, whether they're across time and space or right in front of her. But her simplistic reasoning is that, well... How many people make chaos in a flower shop? It's a fairly calm place to be... and besides that, the animosity she felt that night at the museum is nowhere to be found.

   ⠀This still leaves her overly aware of her limbs and utterly unaware of how to carry them. She couldn't compose anything of value to say even if she tried.

   ⠀❛ ⠀It's you...⠀❜ ⠀Does Olga Marie know about this?

—@animasend ; s.c.

[thybrilliance]

   ⠀It's a relief to see Fujimaru's business is still up-and-running— and with such consistent high-quality items, too... It makes Chaldea's last Master seem that much more capable. The fact that a café is the perfect place for an introvert to zone out unnoticed is an added bonus. Although... if she wanted to reduce the risk of getting caught, she probably should have brought a book.

   ⠀❛ ⠀Apologies— I really didn't mean to stare...⠀❜ ⠀A bit of a white lie— she didn't mean to make it obvious, at least. Her gaze had no choice but to linger when they cut such an ethereal figure, possessing a sort of beauty that's almost eerie...  ⠀❛ ⠀It's just that, in a way... You almost remind me of a Valkyrie.⠀❜ ⠀

—@robustdragonheart ; s.c.

[thybrilliance]

   ⠀Ophelia was more than a little surprised to see the Tempus Museum still standing— or more accurately, still frequented. She vividly recalls its opening, and faintly recalls it stayed open afterward... but she certainly never revisited it before her "long sleep". Purely on impulse, she finds herself wandering the halls without any real goal in mind... and she has a suspicion that she's lost track of time down these seemingly endless displays of art. And yet somehow, it's as though the museum itself knew exactly what it is she wanted to find deep-down.

   ⠀Above her looms the portrait of Olga Marie Animusphere… or rather, an Alien God that wears her face. At the time, the very air had felt brittle and cold as she emerged from the canvas. Presently, Ophelia finds herself staring at it like any other artwork, albeit with much more layered interest. Before long, she can sense a presence that's lingered a few beats just beyond her shoulder.

   ⠀❛ ⠀All the works here are... very vivid, aren't they ? … Were you here back then— when the museum came to life ?⠀❜ ⠀

—@hanabisays ; s.c.

[thybrilliance]

   ⠀She's not quite ready to hit the beach in full summer wear— certainly not without Mashu— but there's something to be said for the ambience. Her apartment in Golden Ward overlooks the ocean, but the tranquility doesn't feel quite the same if the thermostat is blasting cold air. It's much better down here, far enough away from the Boardwalk that she can only slightly hear the commotion, close enough to the shore that the salty air can fill her nose.

   ⠀Even as she does her best to embrace whoever Ophelia may really be without any care for whether it's Wednesday or Sunday, she still finds herself gravitating towards the familiar. Perhaps that's why she finds herself striking up conversation with one of the only people on the beach who also came alone.

   ⠀❛ ⠀I was wondering... what is your book about ? … Ah, but you probably want to actually read it—⠀❜ ⠀

—@pavlovianpoet ; s.c.

[hopeled-archive]

maybe it's wrong to laugh. if you could even call it that– it was more of a scoff mixed with huff of air meant to resemble a laugh. the last time someone said she looked bad was......Aelin. few were that honest with her, always worried about how she would take such a thing being noticed. it makes her smile but not for long as she thinks on what was said before.

Ritsuka hated it– the way memories worked here. going to sleep peacefully one night and waking up to a pain that no words could ever hope to describe. and she just....had to act as if everything was fine, that nothing changed. no one else knew but her and just what the hell was she supposed to do with that? for the last two years, it has been filled with constant losses. necessary, vital to keep moving on– reasons she knew where why but hated nonetheless.

hands reach forward on their own, coming to rest against the object that sat between the two. she had to say it. she had to tell Ophelia. even if the other mage were to be gone tomorrow..........she still needed to know. but words are impossible. her mouth opens and closes a few times, incapable of forming even one syllable. and like before, it happens.

her vision becomes far too cloudy and Ophelia turns into an amalgamation of colors. but her hands remember– they open something clad in leather, pulling out a neatly folded note with a frayed edge, as if torn to be read over and over. she hands it to the other without a word.

[thybrilliance]

   ⠀Ritsuka's crying.

   ⠀That alone fills Ophelia with a sense of growing dread, and it gnaws harder at her insides each time words fail her— her, humanity's last valid Master. Ritsuka Fujimaru, whose hands are no doubt permanently stained red by now. She slides something towards Ophelia, presenting an unassuming piece of paper pulled from an equally unassuming leather book.

   ⠀Her gaze lingers on Ritsuka's crumpled face, far more torn than this worn piece of paper, and then she begins to read.

   ⠀They knew it would end this way. That doesn't bode well for the author.

   ⠀They were a mage. That was to be expected, as so few are left on this bleached landscape, but it narrows down the pool of possibilities significantly— this most likely isn't someone that was born in a Lostbelt.

   ⠀They've both almost died and actually died—

   ⠀This is from a Crypter. She's certain. But who... ?

   ⠀Ophelia carefully reads the rest of the note, and she finds the penmanship to be... vaguely familiar. There was more than one occasion, in the very beginning, where Team A's paperwork would cross her eyes. After all, the bulk of Team A were so absorbed in their own preoccupations that someone had to make sure things were turned in on time. It can't be Kirschtaria's, as his is much neater than this— a thought that makes her grimace as Olga Marie's words re-enter her mind. … No, Kirschtaria couldn't have written this. Ritsuka's wound is too recent— and like Ophelia, he's been sleeping for quite some time. It could be Pepe... but this doesn't quite sound like Pepe's voice.

   ⠀The dread in her stomach is yawning, acid longing to broil over. Her visible eye returns to Ritsuka's face, no less stricken than it was when she began.     ❛ ⠀... Fujimaru... Which one ?⠀❜  

[hopeled-archive]

someone's talking.

her brain registers that. there is another presence nearby, close and.....familiar. she knows that voice, that cadence, and it should be welcomed. the master knows she should be happy to hear it, that her body should move so her eyes land on something real and tangible. muscle memory should be kicking in as a smile falls into place but her body doesn't even feel real right now. hardly anything does. a thought she hasn't had in a long, long time.

Ritsuka blinks once, twice, but never moves. her gaze remains forwards, focused on something that laid beyond the skyline, noting for the first time the sun's position in the sky. time passes in the blink of an eye– she swore it was dawn just an hour ago. not that it really mattered what time it was. keeping track of the hours seemed so unimportant right now.

"......Ophelia." she manages, voice hoarse with disuse and hardly above a whisper. she blinks again, taking a deep, shaky breath for what felt like the first time in hours. right now, Ritsuka doesn't have the strength to keep up an act, evident by the way she sluggishly pushes herself up to sit, her back aching beyond belief. " You're back......that's good. Mashu will be happy to see you."

[thybrilliance]

   ⠀Ophelia doesn't think it wise to mention she's already found Mashu, as that would just give Ritsuka another opportunity to halfheartedly change the subject. Not that she herself fully understood what the subject was just yet...

   ⠀❛ ⠀You're probably right. It's good to be back. … Honestly, I feel as though I've just been sleeping a while.⠀❜ ⠀Perhaps she can't judge Ritsuka too harshly for dodging the issue at hand, as here she is padding the silence just as readily. The Crypter pauses for a beat or two, then begins to get comfortable in the grass directly across from her. There isn't really a comfortable position when the blades are gently prodding against her stockings, but that's the least of her concerns.

   ⠀❛ ⠀But I'm here with you right now, so I'm a little more concerned about how you're feeling. You look... ⠀❜   Being up close does nothing for Ritsuka's appearance— disheveled nearly doesn't cover it.    ❛ ⠀... Um... You look ill.⠀❜  

[thybrilliance]

   ⠀There are times that emotions are palpable enough to charge the air. If an argument gets heated enough, electricity can dance between two people. When embarrassment is too strong to endure, it can give bystanders second or even third-degree burns. She can't say she's experienced every single case firsthand, but Ophelia is aware enough to feel the shifts in atmosphere.

   ⠀In Fujimaru's case, the air is colder. Even as she takes up residence in the grass, It's as though she's the one spot the sun doesn't dare to touch. Something is leaving an indent in the grass in front of her lap, but Ophelia can't quite make it out. As she continues her approach, she makes a point to step as loudly as possible without stomping around like an idiot— if she intends to intrude regardless, she may as well give Chaldea's Master ample time to make a clean getaway.

   ⠀❛ ⠀Fujimaru.⠀❜ ⠀She speaks far more gently than she steps, almost as if rousing her from a dream. It's been a long time (although she can only begin to guess how long), and she's sure there's plenty of things to catch up on (both on and off the island), but Ophelia's far more concerned with the immediate that's affected Ritsuka so strongly. Does she even need to follow that up with a question ?

—@hopeled.

[thybrilliance]

   ⠀It's as though she's woken up from a long, long nap. Much like being stirred awake in the middle of REM sleep, vague recollections of the island are coming back to her the more she retreads old ground. … Of course, she knows she hasn't been asleep— and from Chaldea's perspective, there's really no telling how far they've traveled out of her reach. But it's far better to avoid stating or asking the obvious; that was Ophelia's mindset as she searched spots she deemed likely for the Shielder on her contact list to still haunt.

   ⠀That was before she got a good look at her, anyway, and the passage of time hit the mage with all the force of a freight train. Physically, Mashu has changed very little— sitting in the grass beneath the Eternal Tree some call Ophiuchus, admiring the wildlife that congregates there, she appears to be roughly the same height and build. Yet everything feels different, even the way she holds a smile.

   ⠀❛ ⠀You've grown so much.⠀❜  ⠀It isn't the most sociable opener to a conversation— she probably should've led with at least a "how are you". Catching her mistake, Ophelia shakes her head apologetically. Her smile, however, isn't sheepish at all— only boasting pride.   ❛ ⠀I'm sorry— what I meant was... it's good to see you again. Exactly where I thought I would, too.⠀❜  

— @castilium.

[thybrilliance]

   ⠀I'll go ahead and put out a starter call while I get to following people ! Capping at 3 for now, but castmates don't count and can like beyond that.

[isolaradiale]

after a long rest, i'd like to reapp ophelia phamrsolone from fate/grand order! although this is a new blog, everything remains the same app-wise. thank you!

Welcome back to scenic Isola Radiale, Ophelia!

You will be housed in APARTMENT 308.

You will retain everything you received in your last stay.

– mod pleiades.

[empty-dream]

“I was so scared of disappointing you, of being a disgrace of a daughter… I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you.”    “Even without your talent in magecraft, your Mother loves you the same.”