under the illusion. @ufnathaniel - Tumblr Blog

hello and happy opening day to uf and all of us! let me introduce you to nathaniel. he’s the heir to the city of ouros located in gleerium and serves as the captain of the city’s army! he personally fought in the final war of the states in eltia so he’s considered a glorious war hero and all that. i’ll leave more details under the cut as well as some wanted connections i had in mind, so please like this post if you’re interested in plotting!

(discord available upon request! i prefer it over ims but i don’t want to put my id out here lol )

#uf:intro #ooc.

ufvivian

— circumstantial ,

on opposite sides of a war with @ufnathaniel !

there is something to be said about war. it ruins everything. friends become enemies, and people are hurt. it’s destructive and the only people who benefit are the extremely rich.

vivian hates it.

of course, it’s not often that she runs into someone she personally knows from the war in the streets, so for the most part, people are safe from her ire. but it’s one particular afternoon in the streets of noyillai that she sees a figure she knows all too well, one that towers above her, a person she knows from their school days, even though he had been older than her and more connected with her brother than directly with her.

she has to hurry to catch up with him as he leaves the more crowded area, and he only gets taller as she stalks closer to him, her anger rising up. her hands are clenched into fists, following him as quickly as she can (curse his superior height, it’s not fair that she practically has to run to keep up with his strides) and it’s only when she catches up that she calls out, “nathaniel.”

ufnathaniel

it's pretty easy to understand why nathaniel chooses to wander around the foreign (yet familiar) streets under cover. he isn't here on official business, nor is there any real reason for him to be here, aside from his hobby of wandering around like a lost dog. if there's nothing to attend to at home, he'd rather explore and drift around faraway lands than sit around at home waiting for someone to tell him what to do. that's a part of him he wishes to change, at least. as much as he is just a servant of the king and the royalty above him, he will soon have to rule a city himself, and a leader mustn't idle around in complacency, as his mentors have taught him.

that what he tells himself, at least, as he pushes through the crowds of noyillai, hoping to escape the populated central area lest he's recognized by any alumni or teachers from the academy. he's had enough of formalities and polite, meaningless greetings for a lifetime—the more he can avoid, the better.

that is, until someone calls out his name, loud and clear, causing him to freeze in his tracks and internally laments the loss of his freedom already. he turns around to face the voice, recognizing the figure immediately.

"lady lucinier," he forces a smile, trying his best to hide the sigh in his voice. it's been awhile since he's seen her, especially not after the war ended, and while he has called her by her name in the past, he doesn't think he deserves that familiarity anymore. not after everything he's done. "how can i help you?"

#Chapter 1.#ufvivian

finnuf:

always so formal. “yeah,” they’re both up late indeed. he wonders what has nathaniel out here. he seems like the type to follow some sort of rigid schedule, with a carefully observed bedtime and everything.

yeah, he bets nathaniel’s swordmanship is lacking. then again, finn’s archery is lacking in comparison to nathaniel’s, so he supposes it’s a fair exchange. he’d like to spar too, but now that he thinks about it, should he really train with someone that may be his enemy one day?

maybe. on one hand, he could make nathaniel stronger. on the other hand, he could potentially learn secrets for the future, couldn’t he?

he doesn’t know. thinking about the future too much makes his head hurt. (it makes his heart hurt, too, but he tries to ignore that part.)

“eh, whatever. what are they going to do, kick us out?” finn replies, mind made up about the sparring, if nathaniel is brave enough for it. he gets the concern. he doubts baron ouros is as lenient as margrave lucinier, finn’s father. those gleerians in particular seem to have more of a stick up their ass than some of the others, if you ask finn, but nobody ever asks finn and he knows enough to keep thoughts like that to himself. finn also thinks nathaniel seems more like gleerium’s attack dog in training than an actual person. he trains, and then he’ll obey, won’t he? he’ll train and then he’ll shoot down finn’s people like they are nothing but moving versions of those wooden targets he aims his arrows at every day. finn bets he won’t even bat an eye.

he has to intentionally loosen the tension in his jaw; unclench his teeth. he wonders if there’s a chance they can change their fate. is there a chance they could still be friends? that they could even be allies one day? at the very least, that nathaniel will not be the one he faces on the battlefield in the future. replace him with another general, maybe, but save him from gleerium’s twisted version of unity.

finn isn’t very optimistic. he’s sure nathaniel looks at him now with similar thoughts. if only the etlians would bow to gleil and king andreas and fall into line. there wouldn’t have to be any fighting, or something like that. sure, maybe that’s true, but finn would rather die than become one of those lifeless husks answering to andreas. he doesn’t really have anything against gleil. he just wishes he didn’t teach his followers to be such assholes.

to nathaniel’s credit, he, historically, hasn’t been that bad. maybe befriending him will only cause him more pain in the future, but he’s curious to know if nathaniel still has any remnants of warmth in the heart in his chest, or if gleerium already sucked the life out of him and replaced it with stone. “what are you doing out here?” he tries, words that could be accusatory leaving his lips with genuine curiosity instead. “you seem like the type to sleep early.”

finn seemed to have many thoughts in his mind, not that nathaniel was any different. they both look at each other with so much uncertainty and question in their eyes, so many words unable to leave their lips. nothing is ever simple in nathaniel's life, and his personal relationships are far from spared.

"we won't get kicked out, no," he shakes his head, gaze lowering. they're much too important to be expelled for reasons as petty as curfew. "however, i do not wish to be penalized. my father's wrath is something i'd rather avoid," it's not often he speaks about famliy matters in this manner, let alone to an eltian--despite that, he's learned that moments of levity lead to favourable outcomes.

but the outcome in question is up for debate.

does he want something more out of this interaction than painfully polite and formal exchanges? something more than just knowing the face of his future enemy? perhaps so, but there's a guilt brewing in him that refuses to acknowledge that he may, in fact, wish to fix things with the eltian. who is he to offer friendship, as the future conqueror of finn's homeland? his role in this war was not to repair relations, not to extend a hand and change things for the better, no. his role was to kill for the sake of his country, his nation, his king.

finn's question takes him by surprise even though he should've seen it coming. what is he doing out here indeed. it's unlike him to stray from schedule like this, especially one provided by the academy. he's not one to take risks of his own accord, let alone for such meaningless activities.

"i'm...not sure myself," he ponders with a hazy look on his face. the sword in his hand says otherwise, but it wasn't like he intended on sparring with any other at this hour. "i was going to work on my form, but now that you're here i'm a little embarrassed," he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "you are much better than i, after all."

#CHAPTER 0.#finnuf #( sorry for lack of replies theres a lot going on in life rn )

ufastrea-deactivated20230731

TAKES ME BACK

ufnathaniel

two hundred and fifty years is a long time. as astrea roams the streets of noyillai, taking in the growing excitement and increasing decorations, she can’t help feeling her own buzz of anticipation quietly dulled. by what, exactly, she can’t pin point.

a long time, and a lot of memories. ah, well that may be the problem. because a blink and a breath ago, astrea was one amongst the many trying to hold the lives of the wounded together, with the horrors of war lurking even in the corner of the eye, even when one’s eyes were closed. somewhat cruel, but perhaps karma, is the fact that all astera remembers of those times are the painful ones. it’s so hard to remember the good times.

astrea heaves a sigh, as if expelling the negative energy, and decides to find something to eat. perusing the stretch of shops ahead, however, her attention is captured by a particular face. she squints, moves closer, to the left and right, and a soft gasp escapes her.

“you!” she approaches the (not quite) stranger, a wild grin across her face. “you’re alive! i can’t believe it– i mean, i was hoping but you were so beat up and wow! look at you! alive!”

ufnathaniel

it's not often he gets to free himself from the freezing chains of nobility, allowed to relax his shoulders and speak in a manner less formal and stiff. as leo, his hair is ruffled to a mess, clothes worn and weathered, and perhaps that all lends itself to him being recognized by healer who knows him at his lowest.

"alive?" his eyes widen at her rather bizarre words, but the moment his gaze lands upon her scarlet locks, memories of a time he'd rather not remember come flooding back. the time he almost died.

he questions the validity of his guess, but what other reason would the lady be approaching him in this manner? it wouldn't be some sort of odd scam, would it? he does remember his men telling him of the red-haired healer that had tended to his wounds, but he had been much too shaken to remember much of the experience himself—only that he had made it out alive.

"i am indeed alive," he gives her a sheepish smile, however still wanting to confirm his hunch. "are you perhaps—" the savior of his life? that seems a bit too heavy. "back in eltia...?" his tone drops as to not draw too much attention by speaking the name of the fallen country. “forgive me, i wasn’t conscious enough then to remember clearly.”

#uf:lotusfest #ufastrea

taste of freedom.

@ufwu

nathaniel finds himself on these little escapades more and more nowadays. the running excuse is that he simply wants to see the city more, explore it on his own terms, but deep down he knows it's something less admirable. he feels simultaneously lost and trapped, and wandering around aimlessly like a child was the only way he could convince himself that he still had control over his life. he sincerely doubts it's convincing anyone else, though.

plans for his marriage are moving ever forward, and the closer and closer it gets to fruition, the more frequently he finds himself outside castle walls. even though they had visitors today, he managed to sneak out under the pretense of needing fresh air. he's sure his mother will be enough of a host to entertain them, anyway. sitting around talking about politics and the economy was tedious enough during work hours--if he had an excuse to skip out on repeating formalities and conversations with their guests, he was going to take it.

he's promised himself to wean off having these thoughts, though. the more he keeps thinking about it, the more tortured he feels when in reality he really isn't. why would he be? being engaged to a beautiful, skilled lady from a noble house would be enviable to anyone else. as far as the general public is concerned, they're a picture perfect couple, even if they weren't marrying for love (but what noble does, nowadays). many men would put their lives on the line to be in his position, and yet...

he stops in his tracks as he spots a familiar face in an unfamiliar location. they were in his little corner in the far reaches of the castle gardens where only gardeners stop by occasionally. no servant ever passes by, let alone guests of honor, but his expression softens when he sees the troubled look on her face.

"lady feng," he greets gently with a bow, before approaching her. "may i ask why you're all the way out here?"

#CHAPTER 1.#ufwu #(hope this is okay)

this is a little plot call for the event for nathaniel! he will be attending for many reasons of which include family matters, nobility obligations, being an alumni of the academy, and simply wanting to participate in the festivities. he will be splitting his time in between participating in events as himself (title and all), and blending in as a commoner (known as leo), so hopefully this means it should be easy enough to figure out something to do.

he may or may not participate in the swordfighting and archery as well while disguised since he does admittedly find it fun. i'd personally like to take this chance to flesh out more of his non-noble side so i'd much prefer threads based off him as leo! that being said, if any particularly interesting plots or threads can come out of him as an ouros i would be interested regardless.

so please like this post if you'd be interested in plotting with him for the event!

#OOC.#( i reply slowly enough but oh well )

CONGRATULATIONS! you have LEVELED UP!

NATHANIEL has received a 1 STAT level up and is now LEVEL 12.

you will gain levels by being active throughout the roleplay and meeting certain requirements. these requirements are a secret, but consider every ic post as something that gains you experience and puts you one step closer to your next level up.

remember, the stats you can add have been randomized, and even though you were on the unlucky end of the rng and only earned one stat point this time, you must add that point to one of the three strengths listed on your application. (DEXTERITY, LUCK and STRENGTH.)

please record this level up on the “stat tracker” page of your status page, and link this post under the “link” heading as proof of your level up. well done, and here's hoping for better luck next time!

#submission #( bro rolled a nat 1 )

ufazura

new horizons.

an (un)lucky encounter with @ufnathaniel

“oh, for goddess’ sakes.” azura sighs in frustration as she sinks down on a bench by the city streets, burying her head in her hands. she almost wants to cry, but she won’t — this is just a minor inconvenience, which doesn’t even begin to compare to any other hardship she’s been through in her life. but it still leaves her just so incredibly frustrated.

truthfully, she should have known better than to believe gleerium is some nice country to vacation in now, especially not a former military city like ouros. there’s a reason she has made a point out of avoiding entering gleerium at all costs all these years, as she finds the constant wars and thirst for power downright distasteful. though now that the war was over, and parts of the country had started to rebrand itself as tourism spots, then surely it would be safe to visit now.

but no — it didn’t take long until her trip to ouros resulting in some lowly criminal stealing everything she had on her. the fuck kind of tourist place was this, anyway, with criminals running free in the streets? well, maybe that’s a slight overstatement, as she hasn’t seen anyone else suspicious, but still!

for a moment, she considers if perhaps she’s taking her frustration a bit far — it’s not like she had brought that much gold with her, and she could quite easily just go back home and forget this ever happened. but, stubborn as ever, she remains in the city, having a pathetic mini-breakdown in the heart of it. and, well… there’s also the fact that she may have forgotten where she would even go to get to the warp point. but it’s not like she was going to admit that to anyone and ask for directions. no way.

several people pass by as she sits there, none of them paying her any mind. that is, until she notices out of the corner of her eye a figure stopping slightly, then moving towards her. oh, goddess. she’s really not in the mood to talk to anyone right now. azura holds onto a tiny hope that maybe, just maybe, they’d pass right by her, but knows it’s not very likely as they had stopped to look at her, after all. and sure enough, the man stops in front of her, looking like he’s about to speak.

“i really don’t need your help,” she says, not giving the stranger a chance to say anything first.

ufnathaniel

on nice days like these, with the sun shining brightly, a gentle breeze tousling his hair — and most importantly — on his day off, nathaniel ditches the stuffy uniform for something more comfortable. some might say more discreet, a little too humble for a baron's son maybe, but it's what he feels at home in. a semblance of normalcy, perhaps, a time for him to pretend that he's just a commoner amongst others (albeit a tall one).

some recognize him, some don't. it matters not anyway as he treats everyone the same regardless of whether he's in uniform. he's always liked helping everyone out ever since he was a child and that habit never died. the intent behind it has changed, though, going from altruism to wanting to be useful to simple obligation. a way for him to build back up karma — he's going to need it.

and speaking of which, his gaze lands upon a woman looking as intimidating as she is distressed. he takes a quick look around and weighs his options before deciding to approach her. before her can greet her, though, she rejects him outright. nathaniel blinks in confusion, not expecting to be spoken to in such a tone in his own home city, but recovers from it quickly enough.

"are you sure?" he starts off gently, tilting his head in curiousity. he takes this chance to observe her keenly, assessing the situation before him. "whatever's bothering you, i'm sure i can help."

#CHAPTER 1.#ufazura #( this is obscenely late i'm so sorry omg )

UF:ENEMY01 / bandits solo ( wc: 682 )

it's a never-ending task of protecting the city. even after the war had ended, uprooted communities and soldiers who had lost their jobs took to wreaking havoc about the state. trouble stirred even within the draconian city of ouros, but nathaniel and his men had all but quelled that nonsense.

with peace finding his beloved city, he turned his sights towards the outskirts of the territory. it's a shame how neglected they had let the settlements get. his mother was only focusing on making the city itself presentable to attract visitors, stating that bettering the lives of its citizens wasn't her job, but it wasn't like his father was very concerned with it either. as far as nathaniel knows, he's preparing for the next war already, strategizing with the nation's military leaders to continue their ultimate goal of reuniting deyuis, or whatever it was they used as an excuse anymore. nathaniel knows well enough that it hasn't been about that for centuries now.

the responsibility of ouros' citizens rested on his shoulders. the most important part of any noble's job, yet ultimately most ignored. how silly. there's only so much he can do before he inherits the title proper. so he does the most he can as the army's captain instead.

protecting the citizens, for one.

he tugs on hakos' reigns as he spies an ambush waiting for him. four (or so?) men brandishing axes, badly hidden in bushes and behind trees. he wouldn't have spotted them in time if not for senses sharpened from years on the battlefield, and if the last time he had been ambushed was anything to go by, he needed to be ready for the worst.

"halt. in the name of ouros, you are under arrest. drop your weapons and surrender at once," it was all formalities, of course--not that anyone was around to clock him for not following protocol, but better be safe than sorry.

with his bow already in hand, nathaniel notches an arrow in the string and readies himself to fire at any moment, and as he expects, his words had only incited the bandits further. they take but a step forward before a cold fog settles in nathaniel's mind. he draws the string back and lets go, arrow flying straight into one of the bandits' jugular. there's a familiar gurgling noise as he stumbles backwards in shock, before falling onto his back.

it's uncomfortable to admit, but nathaniel has gotten used to taking lives. doing it by bow and arrow has always been easier, though. he didn't have to see the life fade from a person's eyes like if he had stabbed them with a sword, though he was all too familiar with that sensation too. dispassionately, he dreaded the idea of getting blood all over his clothes too.

two more arrows are fired in quick succession and with deadly accuracy before the bandits finally realize just what they were up against. they charge at him, hoping to close the gap and reduce the potency of his marksmanship. nathaniel grits his teeth and draws his sword, dismounting his horse and slashing at one of the bandits in one fluid motion. it grazes their chest, a thin line of crimson blossoming from behind fabric. too shallow, nathaniel sighs internally, and continues the dance of blood and metal. these bandits were nothing in comparison to the soldiers of eltia, nathaniel notes cold-heartedly, a darkness in his eyes. they must've been commoners before resorting to a life of crime, presumably to survive. just what has war done to this nation?

he strikes them down quickly and efficiently, but not enough to spare his linen shirt from the telltale red stains. how upsetting, he furrows his brow, but he mustn't think about it more. the concept of mortality is a dangerous topic to dwell on for too long, and his job wasn't finished yet. if they had stationed four people here just for one of the minor paths, gods know how much more of them were left. he has to protect the people, as is his duty.

#uf:enemy01 #solo.

ufvincent

—> hello? (goodbye!)

@ufnathaniel

one might conclude he’s seeking out trouble — the usual, others may chime in, for often does the mood strike him, to allow violent intents to run its course when called upon. in this case, however, upon this mundane day filled with mindless chatter and the mediocre bustle of the afternoon crowds, there is little reason for him to be loitering around the streets of ouros. little to none, really.

vincent has absolutely no business being in ouros. (lie)

maybe it’s more a half-truth camouflaged by falsities he wished were true; a contradiction to his inner philosophies, as if the (so proclaimed) heart of ouros itself wasn’t the very person he’s successfully avoided encountering since their last ill tendered farewell, and the very one he has absolutely no business nor intentions to see.

yet.

yet — perhaps the more accurate sentiment that would more aptly fit the circumstances in lieu of ‘avoidance’ would(/could/should) be ‘yearning to see’.

perhaps. perhaps.

however! — to set the scene, there is an elegantly dressed lady before him in this corner of town square sans much privacy. there’s a smile that promises something delightfully wicked as his hand sits perched against the wall before him — thus, with a picture perfect distraction entrapped between his torso and the wall, and sweet nothings conjured too easily to chapped lips for willing ears; vincent has a reason to be in the city this fateful day.

a solid reason. a real reason.

(lie? is it a lie if he can’t remember the excuse’s name; a fact instead diluted with affectionate pet names as placeholders and half a prayer for her continued ignorance — as he’d hoped for with the man he entertained before her, and the one before them, and so forth; all doomed to become just another name, another face in the crowd. see, here and now, in a city that holds the same name of ouros — the name on his mind is inevitable).

his eyes begin to wander without much thought, potential conquest caught up in a story he cares little to hear, and they seek for something he’s not bound to find.

(nathaniel. Nathaniel. nathaniel.)

it feels as if his eyes are playing a trick at first.

its automatic — the way his free hand clenches into a fist, as he fixates on that newly sighted, familiar curve of a back within the crowd, as he wills the individual to turn to face him from where they patrol, as he locks eyes with someone that looks awfully identical to the object of his turmoil.

there’s a nudge to his shoulder he’s keen on ignoring, fixed upon the figure that easily captures his attention without a moment’s thought — his more criminal vice will always be this; the hold he’s allowed the other to have upon him, to a sickening extent.

“gil?” his once-potential conquest chimes in with his alias of the day, another touch to the forearm in search of the attention that had been present moments prior. the sweet persona he’d adorned has all but melted away now, and with a dismissive wave, he detaches himself from her touch, interest gone altogether for the woman he’d been entertaining since the start of the night as she scoffs in place.

instead, he keeps his gaze unnervingly fixed, willing the other to approach him upon his own free will. he doesn’t dare call out his name.

ufnathaniel

nathaniel has many memories tied to this city--which made sense, of course, being both his hometown and the territory he was going to inherit sooner or later. most nobles would have their experiences confined to their castles, however, isolated from the common-folk and kept hidden from the public eye until they came of-age, but not him.

his family hadn't initially known that he was sneaking out to the city wrapped in a dusty brown cloak. they had no reason to even suspect him, really, as he had always been a docile, obedient child, and to their merit, he was--until he had met vincent.

well, they had met much sooner than that to be clear. duke vessalius was a good friend of his father's, seeing as he was under his direct rule, and when they had both been blessed with sons within the same year, it was seen as a sign to have them bond.

it was awkward at first, of course, as nathaniel was expected to be vincent's vassal. the ouros boy had little to no experience talking to other children his age, and the pressure of their families breathing down their necks didn't help. it took years for them to finally become friends, and by then, it was much too late to stop.

vincent was the wild one of the two, persuading (read: commanding) nathaniel to skip out on their boring tea parties together to go explore the city. that's where the biggest part of his memory of ouros lie.

the alleyway they had hid in from the frantic guards, the tree they had scaled to take in the view, the bakery they had convinced to sneak them scraps. all fond memories he looks back on, though much hazier now.

in his reminiscing, a familiar face catches his eye, and he doesn't even process it until moments later. was it a hallucination? there's no way he would be here, not after...

vincent.

as if by pure instinct, his legs carry him in the direction of the phantom, closing the gap between them within mere seconds. though when he arrives, he says nothing, even as he's face-to-face with the marquess. his face holds an expression of disbelief, as if expecting the man in front of him to disappear at any moment. no words are said as he waits for any sign of this moment being more than just a figment of his imagination--a mere dream--but his heart overflows with questions for the marquess.

what are you doing here? are you real? where have you been? what happened to you after i left? have you been doing fine? do you hate me?

but instead, all that leaves his lips is a simple: "my lord."

#chapter 1.#ufvincent #( shut up dont even. shut it )

ufasher

red-handed.

@ufnathaniel

asher makes poor choices. it’s not that he’s particularly dull, or even particularly unlucky, but… things just seem to happen to him. maybe it can be blamed on a short lifetime of being hidden away from the other etlian nobles, his grandfather’s shame of pirate blood in his lines causing him to all but completely lock the child away from the world. or maybe it’s asher’s attitude, a little too carefree and not one to think twice about what he wants (or thinks he needs) to do. whatever the reason, he keeps finding himself in situations he really… wished he didn’t.

like stealing from nathaniel von ouros.

he knows the name all too well. the conqueror of the land formerly known as etlia, asher’s old home. a hero to the citizens of gleerium, an enemy to those on the etlian side who lost their sons, husbands, and fathers to the war. his war. a battle asher never fought, though his grandfather sent men to die for. only to immediately grovel at the feet of their new rulers and sell his daughter into a marriage she didn’t want so he could keep his little seat of power. with time and distance, asher thinks he has grown to hate the man. but… not nathaniel von ouros. somehow he understands; it was just duty. they all carry out their orders. someone has to be the victor.

but still, asher doesn’t want to mess with this one. it was a complete mistake to lift his coin purse; he hadn’t even realized who the young man was until he took a closer look, initially trying to judge how much coin he had just snagged. then he saw it, the crest that symbolized the noble family. asher’s blood had run cold. if anyone knew he had this, he’d be an enemy of the public anywhere in gleerium which is, however fortunate or unfortunate, where he happens to be right now. who would dare to steal from their war hero?

so asher makes the only logical decision he can: he has to put it back.

it’s easier said than done. asher couldn’t explain it if he tried, but taking something is so much easier than giving. but still, he has light, delicate hands. an old thief told him long ago that they were perfect for this line of work, fingers still small like a child’s and lithe enough to fit into the cracks where most adult men couldn’t. so when asher’s trying really hard to un-steal something, why is it that suddenly his hands don’t cooperate with him?

the purse drops with a loud, clattering sound. too close to asher, too far from nathaniel to be mistaken for whose hands had last been on it. asher can’t help but freeze up, further incriminating himself, as all eyes travel to the dropped coin purse, and then to him. his first instinct is a slow, sheepish smile. it’s not what it looks like, on the tip of his tongue, but he’s at least smart enough to wait for an accusation before he starts defending himself.

ufnathaniel

nathaniel had been much too distracted with holding conversations with the locals to notice the theft at first. there had been a series of complaints about petty theft filed by storekeepers, loud enough that it reached even his ears, and with his ever-caring heart, he couldn't help but investigate the situation himself. his mother had always chided him about involving himself too personally in matters that should be left to the guards. his excuse, though, was that he was also a guard in a way. it's not like he had anything better to do, anyway. pacing about the castle could only entertain him for so long.

the reputation he's built up because of it was unexpected, though welcome. on top of his existing reputation as a war hero, he now had the image of a kind, down-to-earth noble to go along with it. how ridiculous, he thinks, shaking his head. he was only doing what was right. it may seem like something righteous and selfless, but nathaniel only sees it as his duty, and perhaps, a way to atone for the sins he's committed (and the many sins he will undoubtedly commit in the future).

the loud, metallic clink jolts him out of his polite conversation, though, and he turns around to see...ah, this must be it.

the thief looked rather calm about the situation. perhaps he doesn't recognize the identity of the person in front of him? nathaniel's eyes drift towards the coin purse on the ground, and raises his eyebrows upon recognizing that it belonged to him. his hand reaches for his belt to confirm the theory, and indeed, his coin purse was missing. a very bold choice indeed.

the chatter had already begun. civilians and shopkeepers alike murmuring and whispering about what he would do to the thief. as much as the ouros' family's reputation had softened in the recent year, they were undoubtedly still recognized as brutal, but fair executioners of justice--and what fairer justice would there be for a thief as bold as to pick the pockets of the city's heir than death?

no, no. that was far too much, nathaniel sighs internally. the presence of thieves indicated a larger problem at hand, one that would take years to solve, and definitely not one to be erased with the unnecessarily cruel punishment of a victim of the system.

he knew that the ever-growing crowd was waiting on his judgement, though, and he had to act fast.

"ah, i must've dropped my coin purse," he starts off with a smile, leaning down to face the thief. "i take it you were simply returning it to me?" he hopes the man recognizes the chance he's being offered.

#chapter 1.#ufasher

finnuf

{ * i’ll paint a future that i can redeem }

six years ago with @ufnathaniel

finn doesn’t really have trouble sleeping. he worries little, rarely haunted by his mistakes of the day. learning experiences, his father calls them, and so they don’t bother him too much most of the time. he needs to learn to apologize more, his father also says, which usually goes hand in hand with said mistakes. well, finn is of the mind that if someone can’t forgive him for a mistake, he doesn’t mind them staying mad at him. so what if he doesn’t apologize? should he really be sorry for a learning experience?

he is learning, though. his time at lotus academy, among other people his age from all over deyuis, has made him more open-minded and understanding. everyone is different, and so they’re hurt by different things. even when finn doesn’t understand, he knows it’s important to acknowledge that pain, and to apologize if he’s responsible for it. it’s not really about the mistake; it’s about the pain in the process.

he wonders if the gleerian students understand the pain their country has caused. finn learned the history he suspects gleerium didn’t teach them, well before his time at the academy: the slaughter of innocent people in the name of unity– of falling into line and obeying gleerium without question. lotus academy’s teachings are supposedly objective, but finn has trouble believing gleerium doesn’t have their hands all over it.

he wonders if they know the amount of etlians that have died at gleerium’s hands, and if they care; if they would apologize.

finn doesn’t want their apologies. he wants change. he wants to know peace for the first time in his life, and he doesn’t want gleerium’s version of it. he wants that troubled expression on his father’s face when he thinks his children aren’t looking to disappear for good.

he doesn’t have trouble sleeping, but he’s outside at the school’s training ground anyway. maybe it’s for etlia. maybe it’s because of the feeling that he has to work twice as hard as anyone here just to make sure his country still exists in a few years.

swinging his sword through the air by himself probably isn’t the most effective way to practice, but he remembers the corrections his instructor made to his stance earlier today, and maybe if he practices enough, it’ll become muscle memory.

he realizes he isn’t alone soon enough, and turns to where he sees motion out of the corner of his eye, still holding his sword at the ready.

oh, it’s nathaniel. one of said gleerian students. the one from the military city close to etlia’s border. the one finn can’t pretend isn’t training every day in order to kill his people, no matter how hard he tries.

he tries not to think about what things would be like if the gleerian students were from etlia instead, either; about nathaniel training to be a general of the etlian army instead, and how they could’ve grown up together and been friends.

“okay,” he says, instead of a normal greeting. he lowers his sword regardless, and he relaxes.

maybe he can pretend a little.

“are you here to practice? i’m just kind of swinging my sword at the air right now, so if you want to spar, just let me know.”

ufnathaniel

glory to gleerium. nathaniel's heard that more times in his life than any other phrase. a mantra of his ancestors, passed down from generation to generation, taught to him by his very own father, to accept as gleil's word. this is their purpose, after all—the then 'lee', now 'ouros' family. a long line of warriors and generals, soldiers and executioners, finding comfort in duty and a cushy spot serving the king.

he's no different, of course. how could he be? when everyone you've grown up with, been taught and raised by, teaches you reality as it is, who are you to refute it? what is a measly child to do when spoon-fed a sugar-coated truth?

but he's always had his doubts—for nathaniel von ouros is a coward.

surely the screams of the conquered must mean something? if gleerium was fighting so passionately towards their perfect goal, wouldn't everyone else have their reasons too? their own beliefs? it didn't seem right to force their laws on them, especially not through bloodshed and meaningless death.

oh, he would be severely punished if his mentors ever heard him say that, let alone his father. as far as they're concerned, the people of eltia are mindless, faithless zombies being led along by false prophets, and it was gleerium's job to free them, and in their defense, it made sense. if he hadn't had the opportunity to meet so many eltians in his time here at lotus academy, he would've lived his whole life believing that too. that the closest he was ever going to get to one was piercing their chest with his sword.

swish.

he swings the blade idly in his hand, relishing the quiet time of night where he wouldn't be yelled at for mishandling the weapon. 'keep it by your side at all times, don't make any unnecessary movement,' and so forth. how bothersome. this little act of rebellion feels like one of the only semblances of control he has left of his life.

"hello, finn," he places a hand on his chest briefly as a greeting. he hadn't expected to see the eltian here, but wasn't perturbed by his presence. the movement of his sword stills. "i see we're both up late tonight."

he tries to be friendly, polite, a small smile visible under the moonlight. 'it's always important to treat everyone with respect,' his mentor's words ring in head. 'you never know how many people you can get to let their guard down with just sweet words.'

"indeed, i am," he nods, eyes drifting down to the sword in finn's hand. "i have a lot to catch up on. my swordsmanship is lacking in comparison to archery," it's no secret that he's one of the better archers in the academy, a childhood hobby conveniently transferring into a skill. "i would love to spar, but i'm afraid any noise we make might alert the instructors to our presence."

#finnuf #chapter 0.#( he sounds so much eviller as a teen LOL )#( before he experienced the horrors of war )#( also i'll get to ims soon i'm just a little busy rn )

yeonjune

soobin ✙ marie claire photoshoot sketch

#nvo.

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