chryssaetos

[chryssaetos]

The Captain's already out, it's just him and Shamir now, and... Well, two against twenty feels absolutely ridiculous. What was it that she said to him when they started? That this was just about the luck of the draw or whatever? He doesn't like that: Leaving things to chance is just too risky to bother, most times. And yet... Here he is, doing just that.

"Not really, no." He admits, dull and shameless, as he reaches out and takes his draw.

Sin draws 1 card: [Roll1d10: 5 = 7]

Not bad. Could be better, but he can work with this much.

Sin draws 1 card: [Roll1d10: 7 = 14]

His eyes narrow. This is something, he thinks; just enough strategic room to mitigate the odds of blowing out, from a statistical standpoint... He probably isn't going to win this, and frankly Sin isn't sure if he even really cares about winning the game they have going on, but surely he won't overshoot...?

Sin draws 1 card: [Roll1d10: 10 = 24] [BUST!]

...A statement which is immediately followed by him overshooting. Fuck.

"...Oh. I think I've lost."

@bladebrecher

ah shit. here we go again

toaball2025 cont. from here

[chryssaetos]

plotting call. (june 2025)

this took... way too fucking long, sorry.

Anyway, Sin is a Knight of Seiros, so muses are welcome to drag him into mission board shenanigans if they need an unaffiliated muse! He won't like it but whatever lol

[Any +1]: Absolutely seething. Having to be in a position of submission to foreign nobles is an actual nightmare scenario for Sin, and he's... not doing too well with it. Like, being held together purely by tension at this point. It's Bad, help him not lose his mind. Taken for Lyn!

[Riding +1]: While his directive is merely to observe the residents of this... gated community, one could call it, Sin will admit to himself he can't sit idle at the rumors of extremely unethical dog breeding, let alone human experiments. For those who would dare act in defiance of Mother Earth must be dealt with, and... Well, what the Archbishop doesn't know won't hurt her. Taken for Etie!

[Faith +1]: Groan. It isn't exactly inaccurate to say that Sin is getting one of the worst portraits of Fódlan possible painted in his head, and it's making thinking his life in Elibe all the more bitter: The more things change... Overall, he's not prone to rushing head forward into anything unwise, but perhaps being around a more outwardly affected muse will influence him...

[Lance +1]: Huh. Listening and learning <3 (not really. skeptical but definitely curious if this book has any historical basis at all, who's going to explain to him that he's basically reading the high medieval equivalent of alpha male grifter bullshit)

Perpetual Stew: Huh. Listening and learning <3 (for real this time. the concept of a perpetual stew is foreign but not necessarily repulsive; Sin thinks it almost refreshingly practical. i think it would be funny to pair him with a muse who'd be a bit prissy about the concept, but i'm open to any takes)

[chryssaetos]

may 2025 activity check.

activity check – passed.

skill points obtained: 1 activity: 1

skill changes:

authority: E -> E+

learned/obtained:

Dancer, Starry Saddle Blanket

[chryssaetos]

...It is just as he had heard, it seems. The Lorca were destroyed, exterminated from the earth twenty years ago; blown to the winds like hearth-ashes... Such pain it's caused her to remember, and such pain it causes him to speak these words, the words that hurt her so.

...But doesn't she look so young, for the survivor of a massacre twenty years in the past? Or, is that it's only so far for him...? No matter the circumstance, he must accept it for what it is. Do what his heart tells him is right.

"Know that I don't bring this up easily. It is only that..."

He inhales sharply, the faint sweetness of foreign flowers caught in his breath, and collapses down next to her on the ground. The anguish laying in his breast was unbearable before, but now it threatens to tear him apart before he's even spoken.

"...You must know that I will never deceive or strike against you, on my honor as your kinsman. Believe me when I say this." He says, slowly, warily. "A great tragedy has torn our country apart. Perhaps it has already happened where you stand, or it will happen in the future, but I have seen it for myself."

Recounting it like this, with the memories of devastation sticking to his ribs, aching into his liver, they make his hands waver pitifully from where they're laid on his lap. Would she even believe his words, like this?

"Sacae... Was invaded. Even as Bern's soldiers despoiled all they touched, the tribes fought amongst themselves... Even after we forced them back, it..."

Sin's resolve cracks, and he almost seems to retreat into his own body. He feels awful, as if closing his eyes for only a moment will make the world collapse back into smoke and bloodshed.

"...Bulgar and the Djute... Are in ruin. Even the Kutolah could not escape. I have never seen such devastation in my life."

There is a single, unspoken thing, heavy in the air surrounding them both: I am utterly lost.

@sunncutter

those black flowers, from which the poison of love was made.

(continued from here.)

[chryssaetos]

pearls by the roadside.

When the sun finally rose over the Menja estate, parting the dark clouds that once hung over the vast blue sky, Sin could only say he felt nothing but relief — This was, easily, one of the worst jobs he has ever worked in his entire life.

In truth, he did something he probably shouldn't have: He prayed fervently to Father Sky, that he may have he strength to manage if he ever has to attend one of these balls again. He will, probably, but... Still. He's allowed to not look forward to it, surely.

...Oh, but all that was before he saw the gigantic hole something had left in the Viscount's mansion, all but obliterating the mansion's west wing.

Right. Well. This is devastation that the Church will almost certainly be made to answer for, and the idea that he could be dragged into the Archbishop's fights — All of it for a Goddess and a Church he doesn't even believe in — Fills Sin's gut with a nauseating mix of rage, indigence, and general confusion. Yeah, this is bad.

"...Ha. Fuck."

Thankfully, the preparations for returning to the Monastery are much less eventful than anything that happened the night before, if distinctly more wet than he's used to. He was one of the first to arrive, from what he knows, and he's rather set on being one of the first to leave: Frankly, he's here to get paid, not clean up the Church's messes for them.

...Hm, but there is another something he probably shouldn't have done to attend to, tucked away in his sleeve: A single little pearl charm, making something of a racket as Sin clasps it in his hand. A thought comes to his mind as he stares it down, that he's never actually seen a real pearl before, and wonders if these charms look anything like the real thing. They'd have to, right? What would be the point, otherwise?

He hadn't given much thought to the exchange game when he was at the estate, but looking at it now, he realizes there is someone he wants to give it to when he returns to Sacae — Not that he expects her to care about what happened today, certainly not, but... It's a memento of the outside world, the world they've both been ignorant to for so long. In that way, maybe it'd mean more to her than it does to him.

...With a furtive glace from his hand to the rest of his surroundings, Sin pockets the charm again. He's certain he won't get in much trouble for taking it, considering all the noise he's heard of students taking them as mementos... And the mess at Menja's estate certainly being of more urgent concern, for another thing, but he feels a little shy about it regardless.

...Were it that he could see her again, just once more.

[chryssaetos]

"...I didn't know. That's why I asked. Not hard."

Yeah, he doesn't like this guy. He's all too used to dealing with obnoxious colleagues at this point, but... Ugh. There is simply nothing about this man that makes Sin think him worth the time: From the comment he makes about it, he's a noble, and Darios would seem to to be as wretched and snide as they come.

...Some night he's having. At least there would be some honor in getting lost at sea, instead of rotting in some cushy mansion.

"...I'm a mercenary. The only man I will ever be loyal to is the Silver Wolf."

There's a brief pause there, as if he expects Darios to simply know only by instinct who this man is. When he doesn't, Sin's eyes almost seem to waver, something reminiscent of a faint sadness washing over him for but only a moment.

"...My Chieftain." He almost sounds wistful, saying it like that.

soft now; should have sensed the sulfur smell.

(continued from here.)

[chryssaetos]

"...Oh. You're..."

It was not a long time that Sin spent in the Western Isles, but he does know who this man is... Or at least, someone who fits his exact description.

A leader of the anti-Etrurian forces, as he takes it — Sin thinks he had sympathized with their plight, Sacae has as many reasons to distrust Etruria as it does any other nation, but his Lord's orders to find Lady Sue came before what he had felt of the situation there, so he had given it no other thought.

...In hindsight, with the duty he carries with him now, perhaps he should have paid more attention to what was truly around him.

"...You were with the Resistance. In the Western Isles. Weren't you?"

Something inside of him wants to think: Does it even matter, in a place like this? What could possibly bring him so far from the Isles, in any case? Or, is that what others think when they see him...?

He frowns, only a little. Perhaps it just isn't for him to know. That's fine.

"...Oh. Right."

Though he hasn't been permitted to carry a bow here, he still keeps a ring on his thumb out of instinct — It clacks loudly against the pearl in his hand, outstretched in Elffin's direction.

"...They gave me one of these bracelets. I don't really want any of these, but..."

“And you are…” Elffin pauses, finding it difficult to place a voice to a name, more so when the voice is most certainly one that he did not converse with often, if at all. That was a failing on his end, in a way, in that he did not seek to connect with more in Lord Roy’s army while he had the chance.

But all the same- speaking to too many meant more chances for mistakes, more openings he leaves whether by accident or on purpose, trusting as he cannot afford to with strangers. 

“...Sacaean, if I am not mistaken?” Recognition is placed instead on an accent. It is awkward, and tentative, in this moment of weakness he had not yet revealed to many others.

“You are not wrong. I believe we fought together, did we not?”

Something clacks against another in a palm, Elffin can tell, a collision and a movement, but it’s far too small of a sound and far too short for him to fully know where and what it is that is being given. He reaches out, missing entirely as he catches himself before he loses balance. He straightens, embarrassed.

“Ah, could you… leave it in my hand?” A shell is taken out, and left in an open palm for an exchange.

[chryssaetos]

The rain is unforgiving, the thunder resounding horribly in her ears. She’s running too quickly — boots skidding on a wet surface, looking, searching, seeking — another crack of thunder, and her heart is set to race, even as she slows.

There’s a figure, back to her, standing just out of the rain, near a large window. She approaches them, with her footfalls beating a gallop.

“Excuse me.” She unhooks a charm from her bracelet as she goes. “I’m looking for someone. My brother, Karel. He’s taller than me. He has long, dark hair that obscures one of his eyes. He’s wearing blue, with a gold trim, and a high collar. Our features are a bit similar... Have you seen anyone like that?”

It’s easier to ask now, than it was years ago. Now, she knows for certain what he looks like.

"No."

The description sounds vaguely familiar, certainly, but Sin has to admit to himself that he's been too busy with... His own matters, as the night went on. He's seen a man like that, yes! Just not at this party. So, not very helpful here.

...Though, the name is what really catches his attention.

"...I did know a Karel, once. But he was much older than you."

He didn't get a good look at the Sword Saint, really, but he does know the man had to have been at least around his Lord's age, give or take a decade or so... This woman is unquestionably far younger, and the way her eyes shine in the lightning-charge reminds him very much of Fir...

Actually, they look similar in a lot of ways, but Sin's head hurts too much to interrogate it much, especially after the nightmare at the stables earlier tonight. He only sighs.

"...Sorry." Taking the anchor from her hand, he slots one of his pearl charms into it in exchange. Something about these charms... "Good luck."

The weather's only getting worse, after all...

[chryssaetos]

"...Oh. Didn't figure you'd listen."

Honestly, he truly had expected Darios to scurry away like a hit dog when he called out for him, and it wouldn't have been the first time he's anticipated such a reaction from his supposed allies. But he supposes it's a relief to know this man isn't a coward, a spineless thing like Möngke had been—

—And, thinking on it then, there's a shot of wild and unrestrained feeling that runs though his core, something reminiscent of a strange childish glee, knowing just how that treachery was paid back. It it pushed down immediately, put away somewhere that Sin can pretend he can't see or even so much as notice it.

"...Aren't you with the Knights?"

And he does have to force the words to his lips, the air Darios has about him only making it harder to engage: He carries an aura of authority on his shoulders, and it irritates Sin on such a level that it feels physical, like the whole of his body rejects the notion of truly obeying anyone who isn't the Silver Wolf.

His shoulders tighten up on instinct.

"Or... Are you just paid to fight like I am?"

soft now; should have sensed the sulfur smell.

(continued from here.)

[chryssaetos]

...Oh, yes, Sin can make every word Darios "says" out: He's always been well aware of just how sharp his sight is — A necessity on the plains of Sacae, certainly, but it'd be a lie to say it isn't a point of personal pride too.

Still, that evasiveness of his does little but grate on Sin's nerves; it's late, and even if they aren't strictly alone the room is hardly crowded — Just what the hell is he afraid of? That someone will overhear him talking?

Have you something to hide? Or are you just doing this on purpose?

"...If you're that curious about what I want," He grits, breaking the silence thrumming in the air. "Then just come here and say it. Otherwise... Don't pay it any mind."

@grxstnnefealltoir

soft now; should have sensed the sulfur smell.

(continued from here.)

[chryssaetos]

It's only the faintest suggestion, really — Not a lie, but something he could easily retreat from if things went south. Something unwise, Sin would have thought; but hearing as Cormag's voice stiffens up, trembles with an anxiety so barely contained it threatens to spill from his mouth like a river of blood...

Well, this is new. And exciting, as Sin lets himself dwell on it — To think, the possibility is right here to find someone with his very same condition: Someone like him.

"...Sin."

There's still a rattling, something cold and dark and shaken inside of him: The years of living like this, caged into his own body because he simply has to be, or else everything will simply fall apart around him, and all the years will have been for nothing — Would the Kutolah truly allow someone like me to lead them, if they knew...?

But it's too intriguing, too thrilling to have something like this at his fingertips, and abandoning the thread here would just leave him bereft of something to do with himself all over again: He can't do it, against his better judgment.

"...I don't really care about that." He says, pushing himself off the sand and back on his feet. "If you want to say something to me, just go and do it."

...The drink would be appreciated, though.

two words - "whatever comes."

(continued from here)

[chryssaetos]

The man is right that he's running his mouth a bit, but— Ugh, he doesn't know. Bearing the burdens of a country in ruins is a feeling that is sickeningly familiar to Sin's senses, and the weight of that recognition... It's painful, being brought into the surface here.

But it's a reminder of what he's here for. Of the duty placed squarely on his shoulders, by the only man who matters. Everything else comes second to that goal: To restore Sacae to its former glory, to bring peace and prosperity back to its people. It was an order from his Lord, the Silver Wolf, and so he'll do anything to fulfill it. Become a man worthy of succeeding the greatest warrior Sacae has ever known since the days of Hanon.

...But, for tonight, he is only this: Young, uselessly scattered, and a little too invested in just what this stranger means when he makes mention of what a man is born into. It's not good to get one's hopes up for something like this, but...

(almost out of instinct, one of his hands finds its way to the fastenings under his arm, just to assure him of their presence. send a signal fire.)

"...It doesn't matter. What others want to make of me for it isn't my problem — I'm only here to work."

The air goes still. Even so, Sin is empty, faintly wanting, body humming with a raw and implacable desire. It's one that gnaws on him the more the thinks on it.

"...I'm not on duty anymore, though. Do whatever you want."

two words - "whatever comes."

(continued from here)

[chryssaetos]

"Not hiding." He says, sharp, tense... But never angry.

Though, maybe he's a bit annoyed: The man is actually trying to talk to him now, for whatever reason, and Sin truly can't imagine being able to deal with another person right now.

Really, he's tempted to just leave, but he doesn't — He just feels... Bad. He feels bad, and he doesn't feel like moving from the spot he has here. Yeah, sure. He doesn't know how else to feel — What does he even want, anyway? Money? Respect? To just go home?

...Hm. Those clouds look like a bad omen.

"...I was paid to be here. But the Knights aren't doing their jobs. And they won't pay me to keep up. So, I don't care."

Those words, so hot and bitter they threaten to smoulder in his throat, are punctuated by how he drinks a little too deeply from the glass in his hand; burning his stomach, dripping down from the gaps of his teeth.

"...Mercenary. Paid to fight, then I leave. Not used to... Doing all this. Talking isn't what I do."

@second-sunstone

two words - "whatever comes."

(continued from here)

[chryssaetos]

Perhaps Sin had been, even vaguely, hopeful enough to have the possibility discounted before it could be truly entertained, that something far beyond his ken is happening here — But, lo; from my perspective, you are from the future.

There is the fear of the hunted, of pain, weakness and death: This is the fear he had felt when he had seen Heath for the first time, seen the beast that had accompanied him. But there is a new fear rotting inside of him now, making his stomach clench tightly, similar to when he had first seen a dragon — All the things he can't understand, bearing down on his shoulders.

It's... Terrifying, to put any word to it. He feels something crack inside of him, wants to offer himself to the Lord of the Eternal Blue Sky in search of guidance, but — Even if he's convinced of his good intent for the moment — Sin simply cannot bring himself to pray in front of a Bernese man.

"...I see. Then..."

What can possibly be done from here?

the light shot diamonds from his eyes

[chryssaetos]

The worst seems to have come to fruition: Something is deeply and unquestionably wrong here, and both of them know it. His Lord's words echo from within: Betrayal and trickery are simple tactics to them. It is only us who think such methods dishonorable... We must be prepared for them when they are used against us.

And Sin does think of it, that this is all some elaborate ruse to break down his walls and stab him in the back, but what would the point of something like that even be, so far from Elibe? The story Heath gives him is too coherent for either a madman or a liar, and...

Well, in truth, he's been noticing some things too. That girl, who gave her name as Lyn of the Lorca... He would never accuse his fellow plainswoman of deceit, but were the Lorca not exterminated long before the war, when he was but a child? None of this makes sense at all, and yet... Here they are.

"...If that's how we're doing this, then... Fine."

This is much more of a pain than it's probably worth, really, but now he simply must know the truth.

"...I gave little regard to the outside world before Bern's aggression, but I do recall their leadership changing in 996. The war began four years later. I have no choice but to believe your words, so..."

These are words he does not want to say. It would be so much easier to assume this man is a wretched liar, only out to betray him at the first possible opportunity, but the cracks are too obvious to ignore — And there, on the floors of these stables, a shining stone lies in shards.

"Would that not mean... That you're from the past...?"

the light shot diamonds from his eyes

[chryssaetos]

...Hm. It would seem he and Heath are at some sort of impasse. Heath seems to be convinced that Bern's royalty are children, if young lord means anything. A deep unsettlement forms and curdles in the pit of Sin's stomach: Between the time this man left Elibe and this day, here and now, something has clearly gone terribly wrong.

"...I'm not hopeful enough to think I can change your perceptions with words alone," He says, something perhaps reminiscent of pity clouding his tone. "But I've seen the both of them with my own eyes: They aren't the children you seem to know them as."

It isn't the most uncommon thing in Sacae, that a man will fall off his horse in the throes of a hunt and never quite be the same afterwards... Did something like that to this man, once? It doesn't seem implausible, Sin would think it'd be much riskier to ride a beast like that into battle than a horse... But perhaps that's only him.

"...Look: However awful you're imagining this, it is worse. That, I can tell you myself."

the light shot diamonds from his eyes

[chryssaetos]

Only a little time has passed, and Sin feels well enough to at least do some rounds around the estate. And it isn't as if patrol on foot is impossible or even necessarily uncomfortable, but doing it on the back of a horse is simply far more preferable. It's impossible now, though, so he'll do as he must with what he has.

He does end up running into someone vaguely familiar, though she isn't exactly hard to pick out of a crowd — Sophia, that's the name he connects to her. A girl (allegedly?) from Nabata from what he recalls, though admittedly Sin had been too busy beating sand out of his clothing to give much mind to events there.

...It's nice to see someone familiar so far from Elibe, at least.

He's gotten deft with these charms, too, pulling one off the string 'round his neck just as quickly as it takes him to properly approach Sophia.

"...Well met."

Sin rolls the pearl in his palm a little, letting it gently clink against the ring on his thumb as he offers it to her.

"...Do you want this?"

There is a limited pool of people that Sophia knows to begin with, so it's always a surprise when one of the few people she does know appears in Fódlan. Chad and Elffin are also here, bringing the number of people she knows from before up to three.

(Perhaps it should technically be four, but does it count when the memory is only one way...?)

This man is one of the Sacaens; a companion to Sue in the same way Igrene and Fae were her companions. She had only gotten a small glimpse of Sacae on their travels, but it had been completely different from what she had grown up with. Rather than sand as far as the eye could see, it had instead been rolling plains. Greenery had been everywhere, not just in the small area surrounding the oasis.

It had been a reminder that the world outside was far more vast and beautiful than anything she could have imagined.

Sophia unhooks her own turtle charm from her bracelet and holds it out in turn. She's more familiar with tortoises, but there is a fun sense of novelty in looking at the charm's little flippers. It is meant to resemble a sea creature and not a desert creature, after all.

"...Here... for you."