constanzea

[constanzea]

criminal pursuit

kirablik​:

Jeez, it’s cold. Nifl was colder though—so were some of the winters back in their world—so they ignore the sting in pricking at their cheeks and the stinging in their eyes, as they pull the arrow back. 

(Note to self: get a nice warm jacket. Hood. Something.)

Below them, the thieves push through undergrowth only to scramble to a stop when they reach the edge of the river. (It’s a fast current. There’s a waterfall farther down the stream). A set of fliers circles around the right. Good. They’ll be able to wrap this up in no time. Meanwhile, Constance’s praise does flutter around in their chest a bit. It’s nice to be complimented by another inventor.

“Steadyyyy…” she holds out the word when she shifts the bow. Down a bit. Left. Down more. No, up. “Fire!”

The arrow flies. They’ll definitely miss. Kiran is already looking away to think about how best to round them up quickly and efficiently when there’s a cry of pain below. Kiran looks down. 

One of the thieves had an arrow in his shoulder. Their arrow.

He stumbles back into the river. Uh oh.

“Constance.” They tap her arm repeatedly. “Constance! Fly lower! He won’t be able to swim with that kind of wound.” The one time they don’t need accuracy, they’re on target. Fuck the bow. 

Constance launches Sagittae, magical arrows surrounding Kiran’s wooden one as the fly into their target. She summons Fire to follow up but Kiran’s tapping on her arm draws her attention. She holds back, for the time being, flames petering out in her hand. Kiran’s arrow had struck true and their goal was to accost these thieves, not end them in a storm of blood and hellfire.

She urges the pegasus to make it’s descemt, wind racing through her hair. It’s a nosedive and she clings to the reins for dear life.

“Hold on tight, Kiran!” Constance shoots as they nosedive towards the river’s surface. With all her might she seizes the reigns to straighten their trajectory. Hooves skim the water, sending small jets flying upward towards the pair of them. They’re so tantalisingly close right now, their prey within touching distance.

Turning her head, she can only see Kiran’s face. It appears to her that they’re without back up, but so are the thieves. Constance chortles with unbridled joy and summons flames to her right palm once more. This was over before it even started.

“Let’s accost them with haste!”

[constanzea]

Constance turns on her heel, thick curls of blonde and lilac dancing across her face. Lavender eyes dance with mirth as she regards the Officer Academy’s newest professor. Her lips quirk upwards in a smirk before she let’s out a throaty little laugh.

“Why, research of course! What else would I be doing here, the rumours have reached even Abyss?” Constance takes a few steps closer, examining the intruder. She supposes with all the gossiping and commotion it’s no real surprise that Rhea sent a member of faculty here. Still, just because the Goddess Tower was off limits to students, that didn’t mean she should stay away. “I think you’ll find it doesn’t, actually. You won’t find the glorious name of Constance von Nuvelle on any of the class rosters.”

She grins widely, like a pampered cat granted cream by it’s doting owner. Two heads were better than one and perhaps the professor would be amenable to assisting her efforts. What could be haunting this tower? How and why did it target those swept up in the throes of passion? Perhaps it was a delusion of sorts, triggered by something in the area.

Constance eyes up the professor - strong and steady in build. A frame with far more physicality than her own. Someone to cover her weaknesses, lest anything set upon her in the tower. Perfect.

“Would you like some help with the lock? I can melt it in an instant, so long as you’re prepared to venture forth with me.”

Fighting evil by moonlight

Starter for @constanzea

The Ethereal Ball is still months away but that won’t stop students and staff looking forward to it early. There’s one big hiccup at present, however: the Goddess Tower, where hopes and dreams of confessions and romance go to burn bright or crash and peter out, is reportedly being haunted by a nasty ghost. What’s worse, the specter seems to particularly have it out for those touched by love’s embrace. Not to mention, no one is technically allowed inside… Patrol the grounds or bust in, and save the Ball from certain doom.

Reports had reached the professor’s desk about strange going ons at the Goddess Tower. Knowing that this was a popular … hang out spot on the night of the Academy’s famed Ethereal Ball, the higher ups at the Church had requested that she investigate. Why her? She was unsure but having inspected the details of the reports closer there had been the note about the spectre preferring those in love. Guess having a reputation as emotionless husk made her the perfect candidate to sort out the problem.

Deciding to investigate late in the day, assuming the spectre would be more active at night, Byleth headed to the specified location. Arriving at the tower, the Professor immediately saw the large padlock on the entrance barring students from gaining access. And of course, the church had forgotten to provide her with a key in spite of asking her specifically to come here. She wondered about busting out her trusty lock picking kit and make use of some of the skills she’d learnt in her time teaching here. It was for a good cause after all and preferable to using force. 

Before doing this, the ex-mercenary decided to patrol around the tower quickly just to check there wasn’t another, simpler way in. It was probably too much to ask for an open window but you never know. Setting off, it wasn’t until she reached the back of the building that she came across someone. Immediately on high alert, her hand twitched towards her sword hilt ready for confrontation. She relaxed slightly upon seeing the Officer Academy uniform indicating this person was a student. They still shouldn’t be here though, time to play the teacher role. 

“What is your purpose here?” Byleth enquired, walking up to them. “This place is out of bounds to students, which I believe includes you“ 

[constanzea]

something wicked this way comes

ylisseanstar​:​

It’s so cold.

His prison is hard and unforgiving, his surroundings encompassed in translucent blue-white through which he can barely see anything other than vague blobs and shapes. There are slight vibrations and distortions that could probably be called sound, but he’s too isolated to parse them out. At least his back doesn’t hurt anymore; he had been positive he’d broken something, but then a warmth had swept through him, soothing his injury with the familiar touch of healing magic. When he gets out of this again (because he will, he must), he has to thank the kind soul who thought to send a healing spell his way despite the situation they were in.

… He really hopes they’ll get to the baths soon, because he might just catch hypothermia from the ice. The chill reaches down into his very bones, sapping whatever energy it can find, and already he feels more drained than he did at the beginning of the battle. Combined with the pain, it’s getting harder and harder to think, and his brain seems filled with molasses the longer he stays in the ice. The cold goes deeper, reaching his heart—it’s licking and sucking at the power that resides within, the brilliant star that fuels his magic shrinking just the tiniest bit.

No… please, don’t take that away from me…

In his mind, Chrom curls around his star into a ball in an attempt to protect it from the ice. The outside fades away to be replaced with dark, light, and all-consuming cold. Wherever his companions are, he doesn’t know; he can only hope they’ll be able to help him in time.

So tired… please… hurry…

@constanzea​

They shuffle along, into the dormitories before they leave. A quick check before they leave reveals quite the surprise.

As Winona crawls out from under the bed, carefully looking around, Blake bursts into the room, shouting for Meya but stopping short-- "Knownie?!..."

And then, silence and shock as he begins to register the remainder of the scene.

“Knownie?!” Constance whips her head around, searching for the young mage. A head pops out from beneath the bed. She can’t help but smile, her shoulders sagging in relief. Immediately, Constance can feel some of the tension leave her body. Two people very much not frozen are a sight for sore eyes right now.  “Are you alright? You haven’t been harmed have you?”

"Oh-- Constance," she says with a timid smile as she finishes rising, lightly dusting herself off. "I'm okay. I hid when everything started." When Blake bursts into the room, she offers him a small smile too. "Blake." She nods in greeting. Soft-spoken as always. "I'm glad all of you are okay. Well... I guess, except for..." She glances over.

"Lan!"

Blake rushes to his friends' side. Winona just shuffles over behind Constance somewhat, averting her gaze from the damage.

Constance reaches out and gives Winona's hand a reassuring squeeze. Her lilac eyes turn to Blake, an expression akin to sympathy on her face. It seems she had him all wrong.

"We found him like that, and a couple of others," she informs him, cautious of making the situation even more harrowing for the pair of them. She could hardly believe what she'd seen herself and the academy's retinue had been prepared for danger. "We fought off the monster that caused it but not without our own casualties." Constance spares a glance at Chrom and Sara. They need away to get to the baths, for all of their sakes.

"Do you know a shortcut to the baths so we can unfreeze them? We could use all the help we can get."

A small nod is all he gives as acknowledgement for the time being - his focus remains primarily on Lan and Kerri, a furrow creasing his brow as he thinks. . .

"Blake?" Winona prods, gently. With that, he seemingly snaps to, glancing over to them.

"I... Right. Right. The baths. I- I don't think going there right now is the best idea. But I might know another way."  He glances to Sara, and Chrom, to Lan and Kerri, and then back to Leif, Winona, and Constance. "... First though, are any of you able to heal? I don't want Lan to thaw just to have him croak on me..."

“Leif can. Sara is also a gifted healer but we’d need to thaw her first.” Constance provides, hopeful that will be enough. She’s seen that thing… gnawing on Lan and she didn’t think she’d ever be able to forget it. “Is there a problem over at the baths?”

"A problem," he echoes quietly, looking away, hand at the nape of his neck. "You could say that."

With that, he looks to Leif. Priorities.

@diadic​

[constanzea]

Constance swings her legs over the ladder hanging from the top bunk and places her face in her hands. It’s not as though she isn’t used to sleepless nights but it’s usually research that keeps her awake. The lure of knowledge and understanding, of mastery and perfection. Striving towards her goal of fame, glory, of House Nuvelle rising from the ashes. This is not the case tonight.

Instead her mind ruminates over the evidence before them. So many threads that lead nowhere, that cross and tangle. That appear as red herrings but keep coming back. One of their own - a pink haired girl, Mitama maybe, has already felt the sting of hoarfrost. Any of them could be next. Yet she felt as if their culprit was slipping further and further out of reach. Hovering beyond her grasp. They had been debriefed about what to look for but whilst there was abundant evident of something very wrong here, nothing pointed in the right direction. It was infuriating, vexing in an almost intoxicating way. A sigh escapes her lips.

“I’m awake. I tend to be a night owl though,” Constance replies, lifting her head above her arms and stretching her back. She had been trying to remain silent so as to not bother her dormmates. Most people don’t sleep as deeply as Hapi does. The wind howls outside, shaking the tree canopy and windows. The hairs on the back of her neck stand alert - she has become so used to sleeping underground. “How are you holding up? Did I wake you?”

not even a mouse

eventful is but one way to describe the day they’ve all endured. try as she might to surrender to the weariness wishing to pull her under, sara’s mind remains active, turning over information she has been entrusted with. it all started, the group determines, with the diary recovered from a winding tower that once acted as a hideaway for a troubled student. this part, sara understands. although these days the urge - the need - to drift to the corners of a room do not occur to her as strongly, she too requires her space and time when the odd looks are too much to bear. the creatures, she’ll admit, like a thing of legend intrigue her more than the victims they claim. 

more and more evidence piles up by the day and even mitama receives a taste of frostbite while investigating into the matter. by the night, sara and the other students are assigned to dorms to live among enrolled students. where the officer’s academy provides her own with separate rooms, the school of sorcery favors communal spaces like the compounds lopto’s priests were educated in. once, sara had thought it may have been nice to live that way, but she realizes after experiencing it, she values her privacy more than being surrounded by other people. here, silence never rules for long. whether it be the shuffling of books or clothes, there are noises abound and some she finds less pleasant than others. at night, the soft mumbles and breathing of those in sleep become pronounced. rolling over on a too soft mattress, sara counts to herself the number of times the bedsprings squeak and one dormmate snores, missing the quiet of her room at the monastery. 

“i cannot sleep either,” she whispers softly. “you’re still awake, aren’t you? you could pretend not to be if you’d like though.”

[constanzea]

There’s an irritated retort prepared on her lips but it’s silenced rather quickly. Chrom - who is by all means built like a warrior and not a mage appears to have been studying. How very quaint, she thinks to herself, glancing over the titles. All beginner’s publications but everyone has to start somewhere. Deriding his budding intrigue would do little to aid his learning so she steps aside slowly. A touch haughtily, but her own curiosity is piqued. Especially when she spots the title held closest to his chest.

“Blizzard?” Constance whispers, keeping her voice down so no one else overhears. Chrom clearly isn’t the person going around freezing people. He lacks the means or motive and has the surest alibi of not even being at the academy when this fiasco began. Given current events it’s understandable he’d want to keep things to himself. “How are your studies going? Hmm.”

It’s presumptuous of her, but she plucks the tome out of his hands and begins leafing through the pages. A quick once over, and a comparison made to the similar tome she’s been working hard to perfect herself. It’s remarkably simple to her but she’s had years and years of study and training. With a click of her tongue, she hands it back to him.

“I came here to research new forms of magic I can learn and master. However,” an impudent grin decorates her visage. Magic has always been one of her favourite topics of conversation and her greatest pride. Long hours of research, experimentation and study have contributed to her natural talents and she’s more than eager to pass on her own knowledge. To snap up a protegee. Constance inclines her head to the right, to the oak and mahogany tables nearby. “I’d be happy to help you cover the basics. I’ve been trying to perfect Fimbulvetr myself, so I’d consider myself fairly confident with ice magic and exceptional with magical theory.”

“If you’re interested, I’ll pick out a couple of choice volumes and we can get to work over there.”

☆ you’re a wizard, chrom! | constance

“Congratulations! You have tested into D-rank in Reason magic! Here is a Blizzard tome to get you started on your studies into the Fódlan method of spellcasting. We wish you luck in the coming year!”

Chrom still can’t believe it. He’d expected failure when he made the resolution to learn his sister’s arts after coming here. All his life he’d been dissuaded from studying magic and told he had no aptitude for it, which made sense; not everyone was born to be a mage, of course. Still, the bluenette wasn’t stubborn for nothing, and if he tried and still failed, well, at least he had tried.

But passing the magic tests and being told he could start in a higher-level class? It’s like a dream come true, and despite him pinching himself multiple times afterward, Chrom still feels as if he’s on cloud nine. He’s often found himself clutching his brand-new tome for fear that it might dissolve into mist like he’s hallucinated the whole thing, but no such fate has come about yet. And the sensation of his power flowing through him as he casts is all too real and leaves him breathless with wonder.

Chrom has magic.

However, there is… not a problem, per se, but a bit of a hurdle. Ylisse and Valm have your standard Fire, Wind, and Thunder, but they don’t have Blizzard or even just tomeless casting. Getting sent to Fhirdiad’s School of Sorcery has been a great opportunity for research, except anyone who practices ice magic has come under suspicion what with the ice attacks. So after meeting Meya, Chrom scours the library in search of books on anima magic and beginner’s magic, anything that could possibly help him get a head start on his studies after he comes back to the academy. Having magic doesn’t translate into having knowledge about magic, and he remembers entirely too little of what his magically-inclined Shepherds taught him on the subject. It’s there that he runs into Constance while shelving some of the books he’s already gone through.

“Oh! Sorry, excuse me. I was just putting these away,” he explains, showing her the small stack in his arms. He spares a glare for one of the offending tomes (”The Basics of Magic,” my foot. How was any of that basic?!) before offering her a smile. “Was there anything you needed?”

@constanzea

[constanzea]

something wicked this way comes​​

diadic​:​

    With Constance agreeing quickly to his proposed plan and already taking the initiative to carry/push Sara to their new destination, that leaves Leif to take care of moving Chrom then. Moving those in need of help is nothing new, but it does come with the disadvantage of potentially slowing them down and making them more vulnerable to attacks.

It is a careful balancing act they must manage. To proceed but to also not leave themselves as offerings on a silver platter to their foe.

“ Stay vigilant though. It’ll likely attack us, thinking we’re wide open. ”  Does it understand human speech? He sure hopes not. Even in the face of such danger, Leif keeps his composure. Though things are tense, he is not rendered too frightened to do anything…

1d6 roll: 4. Leif can attack! 1d20 roll: 12. Hit! Elder Frost Mogall B’s HP: 6/17HP. Enemy 1d20 roll: 16. Hit! Leif’s HP: 5/12.

…even as he sees the monster gaining on him. Leif readjusts the hold he has on the Light Brand’s hilt, raising it up in the air as he’s moving Chrom’s entombed body. As the blade points skywards, mana channels through it and a swing of the sword unleashes a triangle of purple energy that ensnares the mogall, zapping it with a holy light.

It is done to try and warn the mogall that he is not to be messed with, that he is no easy pickings, but the monster still retaliates even in its anguish, striking him again with a shot of Fimbulvetr. He clenches his teeth, but he hopes at least he’s helped create some distance between the monster and him as he looks back to Constance and uses a different kind of faith magic on her.

1d20 roll: 4. Bad Heal! Constance’s HP: 9/12HP.

His focus is split too much between his wounds and his task at hand however, and her injuries do not mend quite as well as he knows they could have, but the magic is most definitely there, no matter how faint, and he hopes it’s enough to help keep her well on their journey back.  // @constanzea​

“Understood. Let’s keep moving but give it no quarter.” Constance agrees, shuffling backwards with Sara’s frozen body in tow. She watches as Leif lands a solid hit, as the Mogall recoils in pain. They’re whittling it down, slowly but surely. It bites back though. He’s struck again and Constance winces in sympathy. Just a little more, if they can push through a little further. They can’t let it beat them.

Despite being in a worse state than she is, Leif takes a moment to heal her. She feels the warm light of his magic reinvigorating her.

“Thanks.” Constance realises she could sound more grateful. Her focus is set on the fight in front of them though. She’ll make it up to him later but for now, her spell craft will have to do the talking.

Constance strikes once more with Sagittae, knocking the Mogall backwards in a flurry of arrows. Her body sings in response, Noa’s crest burning bright. The spell is back in her hands within a second, fully formed and ready to go. She won’t let up now. With another barrage, the Mogall is left disoriented and badly wounded. Overconfidence gets the better of her though. She drops her guard, only to be struck in the chest with Fimbulvetr. Her whole body freezes, encased in a sheath of ice that seems to grow thicker and thicker. Dammit.

Constance attacks Elder Frost Mogall B with Sagittae twice! Two hits. Deals 4 damage. Elder Frost Mogall B has 2/17 HP remaining Elder Frost Mogall B crits Constance with Fimbulvetr. Deals 4 damage. Constance has 5/12 HP remaining. Constance is afflicted with Nevermelt Ice, Frozen!

She isn’t quite sure how she breaks free of it’s icy hold. Perhaps it’s sheer force of will, desperation at their dire circumstances. The ice cracks around her, shattering to a mess of shards on the ground. Constance doubles over, panting for a moment. Her limbs feel weighed down, her chest is still so cold and her head aches. She’s still standing though. Still in this fight. Fingers numbed by frost, Constance tries to get in one last hit to finish the job.

Constance uses Assist Card - Remove All Status Effects Constance attacks with Sagittae. Barely hit. Deals 1 damage. Elder Frost Mogall B has 1/17 HP remaining. Elder Frost Mogall counters with Fimbulbetr. Barely hit. Deals 1 damage.  Constance has 4/12 HP remaining.

Still shaking from the cold, it’s no wonder her casting suffers. Gritting her teeth, she feels Fimbulvetr’s searing ice once more. The monster is just as exhausted as she is though, barely managing to land it’s attack. As she tries to recover her breath, she sees it come into view. This time it barrels towards Sara and with the little strength she still has, Connie pulls her frozen form out of the way just in time.

Elder frost Mogall attacks Sara with Fimbulvetr. Miss. No damage!

“Leif!” Constance chokes out, grabbing his attention. They’re so very close - it’s almost over. “You can finish this - I know you can!” She wishes she’d been able to land the killing blow herself. With a half grin, half grimace on her face, Constance satisfies herself with watching Leif cause it’s final fall.

@diadic​ (leif kill!!!!)

[constanzea]

something wicked this way comes​​

diadic​:

    As soon as Chrom breaks free of his ice prison, he is quickly brought back to it again, and even Sara herself falls victim to it. Dread injects itself into Leif as he looks around at the chaos, and his umber eyes seek out Constance’s to see how she’s holding up.

“ Stay strong! We need to push towards the showers! ”  So says the tip from when they had all reconvened to share information. Though Chrom had managed to overcome his frozen entombment once, there’s no saying he could manage it again, and they would have need of the showers to help them.

1d20 roll: 17. Good Heal! Chrom’s HP: 8/12HP.

Leif casts a simple heal spell on the blue-haired man, noticing how he looks worse for wear. Whilst he was frozen, that didn’t mean the man wasn’t going to be targetted against or that he couldn’t succumb to death. Leif had seen how people were still able to degrade underneath that ice, and although he would like to help Sara, Chrom’s condition was definitely much worse at the moment.

He hopes Sara will forgive him.

[Enemy Phase] Enemy 1d20 roll: 14. Hit! Leif’s HP: 7/12HP. Leif is unable to counterattack.

As much as Leif wants to help rescue his allies, the Mogall is still on his tail and shoots another spike of ice his way, blooming yet another injury in its wake. Leif yelps in pain, looking back at his attacker to counter with his blade’s magic, but the creature is too far away to reliably be able to strike— to know where to even direct his hit.  // @constanzea​ 

Both Sara and Chrom are imprisoned in ice and Constance would hate to be next. It seems like they’ll need a miracle to escape from this in one piece. Leif is right though - they have to head to the showers. It’s the only way they can really do much to help the others. At least Leif can heal their wounds but there’s no one left to heal him. Oh, how arrogant she has been to focus almost exclusively on black magic.

The best Constance can do for the three of them is to fight, relentlessly. She prepares to cast Sagittae once more, feeling the energy tingling her fingers. Constance sets her power loose in another shower of arrows.

Roll: 12! Constance deals -2 damage with Sagittae. Elder Frost Mogall B has 7.5/17 HP remaining.

A smirk tugs at her lips. The fight is far from over but it feels as though they’re finally tipping the tables in their own favour. She raises a hand to mop her brow, exhausted but fuelled by pride and determination. The monster retaliates but she’s able to at least brace herself for the impact this time.

Roll: 7 Elder Frost Mogall deals -1 damage with Fimbulvetr Constance has 8/12 HP remaining.

“Okay, let’s try and lure it along with us!” Constance shouts back to Leif . She makes to grab the icicle Sara. Leif is her friend but she knows her own strength. Knows that she will slow them down if she’s left to carry Chrom. “The quicker we get them to the baths the better.” The creepy, twisted little thing follows them at a distance. She’s about to shout a warning to Leif but it’s already too late. As soon as she sees the spell it’s crashing into him. His yell of pain draws her sympathy but she can’t take action to ease it. He is a proud, resilient man though - searching for an opening in the dark, blade in hand. There is none, the monster darts and dances around just out of reach.

“Leif, leave it for now!” Her voice sounds scolding. Concern has always been so difficult for her to express honestly. Much easier to mask under the guise of annoyance, of petulance and superiority. “Let’s keep moving, the faster we get them to water, the faster Sara can heal you.”

@diadic​

[constanzea]

something wicked this way comes​

diadic​:

   “ This creature… is it what’s been freezing all the students?! ”   Leif reacts in abject horror once he realizes what it was that had been making all those slurping noises he had heard. Constance is quicker than him on the offensive, firing spells in rapid succession and although Chrom tries to follow her up, he is shot with the icy goop that had missed him before, and Leif winces at the sight of it.

When he looks more properly again, he realizes Chrom is completely frozen as well. If they couldn’t vanquish this monster, then it was only a matter of time until they all too suffered similar fates.

He had a home he must return to. He must rule New Thracia and finish his father’s dream.

He can’t fall now.

1d6 roll: 4. Miss! Leif can attack. 1d20 roll: 4. Miss! Elder Frost Mogall’s HP: 13/17. Enemy 1d20 roll: 15. Hit! Leif’s HP: 9/12HP.

Brandishing his mother’s sword, Leif runs up to the monster, aiming to slice at it but the goop on the ground creates a tricky floor to navigate and Leif barely misses the creature in his arc. In retaliation, the mogall erects a huge, jagged column of ice that manages to stab through the prince with one of its auxillary spikes, creating a freezing burn as his blood begins to spill.

He grunts in pain, stifling it from being a full roar as he pulls back, trying to figure out a better way to find his footing on this strange battlefield.  // @constanzea​

The Elder Frost Mogall sets upon them once more. Constance braces for impact but it doesn’t come. Instead Sara is caught in a whirlwind of ice, entombed within the glacial material. A shiver trickles down her spine. It’s almost enough to leave her frozen in terror.

Almost, but not quite. They will be of absolutely no use to poor Sara if they just stand around and get frozen themselves. Steeling her nerves, she prepares a shower of magical arrows and unleashes them upon the nasty little monster. It’s a solid hit. Not her finest spell work but far from her worst. This time she doesn’t have the element of surprise on her side though. It catches her in it’s icy glare, casts Fimbulvetr before she has the chance to move out of the way.

It’s so very cold, the empty, desolate kind of cold that settles in one’s heart. For a moment, Constance thinks she’s been frozen solid too. But it passes too quickly, numbness giving way to pain. Pain she embraces, a sign she can still fight on.

Constance hits Elder Frost Mogall B with Sagittae for -2HP (11/17 HP remaining) Elder Frost Mogall B counters with Fimbulvetr for -2HP (9/12 HP remaining)

@ylisseanstar​

[constanzea]

something wicked this way comes

diadic​:​

    There’s a slurping noise, something smacking its lips close by. Was it back where they had come from or lurking in the shadows of the parts of the dormitory they had yet to step foot in? No matter where it was, it is the uncertainty of what it was.

Was it even human? Was it something more monstrous? Leif draws the Light Brand out of its sheathe, its faint glimmer a comfort to him in such times.

“ Right, ”  he agrees with his peers.  “ Everyone, be on guard. Did you all hear that? ”

roll: 1 move: J9 → J8

He moves cautiously, body tense as he approaches the noise with apprehension and for good reason it would seem. Suddenly, a corrosive gunk flies out, its stench hitting him faster than the material itself. Though he tries to dodge so as to not repeat the same mistake as last time, his footwork is nearly not fancy enough and there seems to be too much of it, all launching itself at their whole party.

1d3 roll: 2-1. Barely Hit! Leif’s HP: 9/10.

It latches itself onto his nondominant arm, a similar irritating feeling and blemish to the icy gunk that still remains on his cheek. It burns greater though, bringing him real pain he can feel but one that he tries to push onwards in spite of. He turns to look back at his group to see how they fare.

“ Are you all OK? There’s likely more where that comes from up ahead. ”  he asks before turning the corner. The scene that awaits them there is the hallway being near covered with the same icy gunk, and from further in, the slurping noises from before intensify.  // @constanzea or @ylisseanstar​

A deep breath. Constance inhales and focuses her mind on the magical energy swirling about. There’s a trap, just outside the door and to the west .She steps boldly forward, hot on Leif’s tail. That hideous sound is clearly not human. She takes a deep breath, readying herself for danger when--

SPLAT!

A chill chases down her spine. It’s as cold as ice and for a moment, Constance is frozen. Not physically but in panic. Is she next? To be entombed in ice? Then comes the burning, searing at her flesh. Furiously she swats at her face with her sleeves trying to get the slimy goo off. It still stings and smarts but the pain starts to subside. Her eyes were saved and she squints forward into the dim light and takes another step forward. Anger boils in her chest, whatever that was she will make it pay.

“I’m perfectly fi-” her response to Leif is cut off. Her hands tremble but she holds her nerve, however tentatively.

There are two bodies, encased in ice. Kerri and Lan, from the party. She hadn’t really spoken much to them - Kerri was a fool and barely worth her breath. Lan had been kinder, softer. Something is gnawing at his side - blue and iced over. A ball with tentacles sprouting out of it’s rear end. It hasn’t seen her yet. Now was her chance.

Constance focusses before unleashing a storm of magical arrows against the fiend. Inside, she’s in her element. It falls backwards off Lan, in a mixture of pain and shock. The power courses through her veins - the gift of Noa’s crest. It empowers and emboldens her, allows her to strike once more whilst the disgusting creature is dazed and confused. Once more, she showers it in arrows and takes a step backwards.

Hopefully the four of them can finish this thing off quickly.

Moved J8 --> I8 Constance barely hit Elder Frost Mogall B for -1 damage with Sagittae. Crest of Noa procced. Constance hit Elder Frost Mogall B for -2 damage with Sagittae.

Constance: 11/12 HP Elder Frost Mogall B: 14/17 HP

@ylisseanstar​

[constanzea]

something wicked this way comes

diadic​:​

   “ Sara!! ”   Does she hear him? In this commotion, Leif can’t be sure. He’s not entirely certain if he made out himself in the pandemonium, or if he simply willed what he imagines he must sound like past the screams and panic until he convinced himself that it had indeed been what he heard.

She had always been one to carry to her own whims, but at a time like this, he’s not comfortable leaving her to do as she wishes.

roll: 1 move: L11 → K11

He looks back to the person beside him, Constance, and he sees someone else coming up to join them too.

“ I’m following her. She must be onto something. I know it. ”  He doesn’t, but he trusts her, and it is an unspoken plea to them to trust Sara too. He knows not how much it’ll work, but once he has decided his heart upon that, he bolts off after the cleric, accidentally making it further ahead than her.

If she must see danger, he wants to brave it first. As the infirmary becomes louder, the pathway to the dorms quiets, ominous in the wake of everything. All things that way may be peace for now, but shall they always?

// @constanzea​ & @ylisseanstar​ 

“Excuse me!?” Constance blurts incredulously as Sara runs off and Leif turns on his heel to follow her. She will not be left behind, thank you very much! It sounds as though their foes are southward but it’s hard to tell. Difficult to hear anything above the cacophony of shouting and running.

“Come along now, Chrom!” Her tone is insistent and she reaches behind her to grab at his wrist. A sharp tug, directing him forward. “We can’t let our friends have all the fun now, can we?”

Hot on the pair’s heels, Constance makes a brisk march over to the halls that house the infirmary and dormitories. Trying to chart a course through the rush of bodies, darting to and fro is like trying to plot one’s way through a labyrinth. Only with significantly more bruises. Oh, she'll make the fiends behind this pay. The mage catches up with her allies, Chrom following closely behind and pushes her way further inside

Moved to J11!

@ylisseanstar​

[constanzea]

criminal pursuit

kirablik​:​

Who indeed…

Oh, not them—don’t misunderstand. They only returned from the actual scene of the crime, double checking on the items to be delivered when the group walked in so casually, and when they had stopped to question them, they smoothly answered all their questions. What else could they do? Be an asshole? Yes, that was an option, but they can’t always be like that, can they?

A huff of air when she watches Constance address her with a voice so boisterous and loud and just a lot. Do they ride? Why, yes. Will they ride? Why, no. They would rather eat crickets sauteed in tainted mud than ride a pegasus or wyvern alone. (They’re not good at it, and they’re not taking a chance to be bold when time is of the essence).

Swinging a leg over the pegasus, Kiran settles in behind Constance with an arm wrapped around her waist. They’d tell her to fly gently, but they know better. “Let’s go,” she says instead. “Herd them towards water or a cliff so we can block them in.”

Once she has taken off, they slide their bow off their shoulder and nock an arrow. They aren’t a good shot, but it will help with herding.

The pegasus beats its wings in a steady rhythm, keeping them aloft just below the clouds. Their prey races forwards, unaware they are being hunted like rabbits. She feels Kiran moving behind her, probably drawing their bow. Constance leans forward, encouraging their steed forwards and into a wide turn towards the river.

“Brilliant plan, I knew you were the right person to call upon!” Constance grins as they inch closer. Their own cavalry are also making chase, closing in upon these rotten brutes in a pincer formation. “Are your arrows knocked and ready to fly?”

The wind bites against her exposed skin, whipping blonde and lilac curls across her face. The pegasus is dutiful, performing the aerial manoeuvre just as planned. It’s exhilarating, speeding through the air like this. An aching familiarity in the feeling of the reins beneath her hands. Something Constance hadn’t realised she had been longing for, all these years. Giving chase like this is a thrill and her heartbeat increases it’s pace as they close in.

Closer and closer they approach, from the right hand side as the other riders close in from behind. They push the thieves towards the river - no way out. Magical arrowheads are summoned into her right palm. The spell already forming before it’s on her lips. Prepared to strike, to fire at will. The pegasus swoops lower, granting the pair of them a better vantage of the thieves.

“Ready at your order, Kiran!”

[constanzea]

Personal History Lesson [Fhirdiad]​

flowerofgoneril​:​

Aww.  Hilda is actually quite touched.  Merric and Soren are covering for her and Holly.  They don’t even know what the girls’ goal is here but they still just stepped up and did it.  Heh, maybe Soren really isn’t the meanie butt she thought him to be.

Holly looks to Hilda, grinning. "Good job. Now, let’s see… I just need one last book back…”

She makes a break for it– and Vern turns on his heels to face her mid-spiel to the boys. “Miss Arlander, that is quite enough!” With a squeak, she jumps and runs back to Hilda, then pauses and lightly shoves the book she had gathered earlier into her arms before glancing back at the librarian, a wild look in her eyes. “She made me do it! I’m innocent!” And she bolts, then, a rabbit bound for the brush. Vern sighs, and scowls. “I’ll never understand that one.”

There’s a moment where Hilda considers darting after Hollay.  She got lucky and caught her once but doesn’t really want to push her luck again.  Instead, she turns to the poor librarian.  “Sounds like this isn’t the first time she’s done this. What’s up with her anyway?“

Vern shakes his head. "It’s some strange kind of game she likes to play. Like I said… I don’t think I will ever understand her.”

Hilda looks down at the book that’s been thrust into her hands.  101 Puns and Jokes About Ice.  It’s not exactly the type of book that she would have expected to find in a prestigious school library.  And it really doesn’t seem like it would be at all actually useful in solving this mystery but she does crack it open to see what names might appear on the card inside.  Maybe someone is particularly interested in ice?  Turns out she recognizes several names.

There’s… in order from most recent to least 

 >Holly 

>Holly 

>Winona 

>Holly 

>bunch of other kids 

>Blake (*prior to all this starting) 

>bunch of other kids

She flips through it a little bit, unable to resist the curiosity of what some of these jokes and puns could be.  What happens when you’re alone and get too cold?  You’re totally ice-olated!  Oh goddess these are just awful.  The book is quickly shut and she regrets looking.

“Oof, a little soon for this, don’t you think?”  And honestly, if someone wanted to make light of the whole situation, they could at least do it in an actually funny way.

“Like a dog with a bone,” Vern asserts with a long-suffering sigh.

Hilda looks to the shelf where Holly pulled the book back from and carefully places it back in its rightful place.   She’s lazy not an asshole. “I guess ice books are pretty popular right now, huh? You’ve probably had to deal with people trying to figure things out. Must be real annoying.”

“Oh, yes, indeed. They’re removed near as soon as I put them back on the shelves… But I doubt if these would hold much meaning, personally - anything of much interest has already been put into the faculty and researchers’ hands, you see. One never knows, of course, but…”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense I guess.  Sorry for helping her out with whatever that was!  I’ll be getting out of your hair now!”  She gives her very sweetest smile and finds somewhere out of the way to wait for the rest.

@constanzea

Triumphant and accomplished, Constance left the records room practically glowing with pride. Her heels click across the hardwood floor like a metronome as she reaches the desk. She handed the key back to Vern with a grin on her face.

“Thank you very much, Vern,” she said with a curtsy. “That was very enlightening, I think I’ve gleaned some useful information.” With that she flounced away towards a table at the other end of the library, gesturing for the others to follow.

She pulled a seat at an oak table, the legs scraping against the wooden floor loudly. Constance sat at the head of the table, back pencil straight and hands rested in her lap. Proper and dignified, only given away by the expression on her face. A cat who got the cream. The others make their way over to join her and she’s eager to share her findings.

“So, the rumours we heard were true Hilda,” she announced proudly before backtracking. Maybe they weren’t entirely true. Honestly, it would be more interesting in her opinion if there was something else to it, although they had enough to look into with the students frozen in the infirmary. This was unlikely to be connected as well, seeing as Professor Aveline had been working at the Officer’s Academy when these macabre events begun. “Professor Aveline was a diligent student, of some talent but her achievements came mostly from determination and hard work.”

“She has innate talents in Faith magic but preferred to apply herself to the study of Reason magics. Things changed in the last few months of her attendance here.” Constance meets Hilda’s gaze with a solemn nod. It was clear the rumours and suspicions were not wholly unfounded after all. “An outside influence, alcohol appears to be the School’s conjecture but there was no evidence to support it. All we can say is something definitely changed.”

The mage cleared her throat. On to more important topics, she continued.

“I’ve also noticed patterns amongst the victims. Mostly with regards to their academic and magic performances.” Her fingers steepled above the table, examining the others for their reactions. To check their own reactions. If anything this was far more important than snooping on their professor. It could help narrow their search down to find the culprit of such atrocities. “All of the students are either brilliant or have unique abilities. It seems as though they have been picked off purposefully.”

“Two names caught my attention in particular, Blake and Winona.” Her hands fold on the oak table, her gaze piercing and intense. “Blake was a poor to mediocre student until quite recently. Used to get into trouble but now is well behaved and popular. His academic scores are still fairly average but this magical skills are now top of the pile, especially with so many talented students being indisposed.”

“Winona is talented in dark magic. A rarity here. She seems to keep to herself, mostly. Dark mages are often treated with hostility and suspicion. With her skills being so unique, I worry she might become a target.”

@atypicalsenerio or @windsheedme 

[constanzea]

Lesson Never Learned | Team Fhirdiad​​​

petrykos​:

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐨. Remember, casual else he isn’t likely to give information. "So…Lan, correct? Tell me about yourself,” she opens the conversation.

          Lan, in comparison to Blake and Kerri has a much calmer temperament, especially when compared to Kerri. ( Thankfully Petra was not interrogating him, she might not have lost her patience. ) He smiles easily. “Seventeen, a Fhirdiad local born and raised, specializing in Faith magics. That’s not what you really want to know though, is it?" 

          His smile no longer quite reaches his eyes. Her eyes widen slightly, but she couldn’t have been the most subtle, especially with her blunt request in the beginning. 

          "It is a start, but…” It is in that moment that they spin to face each other, inches apart. She locks eyes, studying his expression. “I am thinking you know the answer to that. After all, you are attending this school, so you are no fool.”

          “Oh, there are fools aplenty here, believe me,” he says with a wink and a small chuckle. “Myself amongst them, I am sure. In any case, you want to know who or what we think is behind all this, yes?” Lan continues, leading confidently into the next verse of song and dance. If anything, at the least he proves adept on his feet. “If you ask my unbiased opinion, I would say Blake easily has the most to gain from all of the top students staying out of his way. When they’re around, he’s just middle of the pack, really." 

          He smiles sadly. "He is my friend, though, and I should not like to think him the culprit. All the same… I worry what is to become of our fair school.”

          “Blake, you are saying? Because he wants the top?” She gives a quick glance to him, Kerri, and Hilda. Then back to Lan, she tilts her head slightly. If she had learned anything from the last big mission, everyone hides some part of themselves. Her, concealing her true identity, Laelaps being an Agarthan underneath their noses. She didn’t think that this made Blake a person with ill intent, however, but she couldn’t rule him out as suspect either. 

          “He’d never admit to it out loud,” Lan says, “But I’m sure he’s enjoying himself to some extent… Not like there aren’t perks to being top dog, I’m sure. But he’s never been bigheaded about it in the past, y'know what I mean?”

          There is some hesitation and sadness lurking behind that cheery expression he likes to put up. Understandably so, Blake seemed like a good friend and she couldn’t imagine what the consequences would be in a place such as this. That was, if Blake was the culprit. “You are looking… upset underneath your smile. It would be crushing if you are correct but,” She puts a hand on his shoulder briefly, if anything to act as a support. She continues moving though to avoid crashing with the others. She couldn’t confirm or deny anyone, not without proof and she only has word-of-mouth to go by. Still, she attempts to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Is there anyone else you are thinking?”

          He starts at her observation, blinking in surprise. “I’m that obvious, huh…” It’s a whimsical smile he affixes now, bemused perhaps that this perfect stranger has him pegged so quickly and easily. “… There was someone else, yes… Two people, in fact. Even before all of this happened, I’ve never really trusted the infirmary physician. And then, well, the second person… Well, they’re frozen now, so I suppose that clears up their innocence, but if they weren’t…”

          “It is only sensible that you would. Friends are those you can trust, or you are thinking you can. To betray that trust is…” She shakes her head, dismissing the idea. She didn’t need to upset him. 

          “The physician… what is their name? So if I am needing to see someone about an injury, I should be avoiding them,” she pauses, “I am having a joke.” Partly.

          And he chuckles at her ‘joke,’ lighting up a smidgen compared to before. “Cain Collins. It’s… probably nothing, in truth. He has never been aught but amiable… But I just can’t shake the feeling…" 

          "Yes, well. Nevertheless we cannot be letting our guard down.” As the song comes to an end, she gives a curt and polite bow. “I have gratitude, Lan. For the information and you being my dance partner." 

          Though it might be unlikely, she hoped to meet him again in the future, he seemed like he would be a kind and decent friend. His heart seemed full of honesty, she could only hope that he truly was speaking from it.

          "I, too, am grateful of your company this dance,” he returns with a bow.

@flowerofgoneril​ 

Constance takes the young woman’s hand, leading Knownie towards the dancefloor. The quiet mage follows her lead, shyly at first but she keeps pace all the same. The music lilts and bounces across the hall, the perfect accompaniment to a light conversation. 

“So, what are your magical interests?” Constance asks as they sway to the music. Her eyes sparkle with curiosity, genuinely interested in learning more about her more taciturn partner. “I know most students settled upon an area or two of study they have a particular affinity for. I wonder what yours is!”

"... Ah... Well... I'm a student of the Black Tower," she starts, seems uncertain however, looking to Connie for some kind of sign or push. "I apparently have... a strange affinity for reason magics... Well, to be more specific, dark magics, more so than black magic..."

It’s immediately obvious that the mage in training is cautious to admit to her talents. Constance finds the idea preposterous - all magic is worth learning after all! She understands though, the whispers and rumours, the pointed looks and glares that often follow dark mages in places like this. The immediate presumption that dark magic is dangerous, evil and twisted. Something to fear and avoid rather than embrace and control. How childish a notion! Constance has seen the blazing light of Abraxas swallow Hades whole. Magic itself isn’t to be feared - it’s mages. Particularly the talented and even more so those scorned. Perhaps that is the real reason dark magic has such a gruesome reputation. A prophecy destined to fulfil itself.

Her expression however brightens in response to Knownie’s confession. She continues to lead them through the steps, with ever increasing vigour.

“How delightful! My dear friend Hapi is skilled in dark magics. It’s something I’ve always been interested in learning myself.” It was just about the only area of magic her parents had neglected to educate her in. No, not neglect. She doubted they’d fall prey to such silliness and fear the discipline. They’d never had the chance. The hint of a frown flits across Constance’s face for a moment, soon to be replaced with renewed intrigue and excitement. She smiles, turning in time with the beat. "I'm aware some people fear it but those people are close minded fools. What makes any magic, or indeed weapon dangerous is it's wielder. Their ability and intent. One sufficiently minded could wreak havoc with light magic but few ever question practitioners of faith magic." 

"Hapi..." she repeats in curiosity, head tilted to the side. "... Is she from Fodlan...?"

Regardless, Constance's enthusiasm for the subject has Knownie intrigued - wary, but enticed. It's not the usual answer she gets, no, not at all. "Yes! Yes!! You are correct! How can people not realize... they just don't understand..." She goes on a bit, rambling about how people mustn't have understood magic in general initially, and yet, it hasn't stopped them learning it! Dark magic gets such a bad rap! She's know more jerks into faith magic than dark... not that... she's known... very many of the latter...

"... Do you think you'd come back here to learn it...?"

“Indeed! It is quite an odd name, I believe she hails from an isolated village.” Constance pauses thoughtfully, a finger pressed to her lips. Perhaps she should be careful not to get carried away and tell too much of her friend’s secrets. “It’s fascinating what is hidden in plain sight, my friend!” 

Her cheery gushing is however, brought to sudden halt. Constance hesitates. Oh, she would love to come back here. Had jumped at the opportunity to return, however briefly. This isn't where she belongs anymore. She wants to say yes but knows it would be a falsehood. These hallowed halls are a fond memory. Abyss is her home now and she cannot bring herself to turn her back upon her dear friends.

"I--" the words get caught in her throat. Trying desperately to claw their way out and becoming gargled on her tongue. She takes a breath. "For a crash course, that would be lovely. I do think I've moved on though, sadly." Her tone brightens though as an idea crystallises in her mind. "You know, The Officer's Academy is filled with students with all sorts of talents. I know of several who practice dark magic with little fanfare made about it. Perhaps you should consider applying after graduation."

For a moment, Winona seems disappointed -- but the expression is quickly replaced by renewed curiosity. "The Officer's Academy... Truly...? I had no idea... Well, we've all heard the rumours but I didn't think they were true..."

Her eyes shimmer a moment, but her emotions are swiftly tamped back down. "Thank you.  That gives me hope."

“If you have plans to further your education, I must wholeheartedly recommend it. You seem just the your to thrive there!” Constance’s insistence is slightly excitable. Maybe it’s the music, the drinks or just the delightful conversation. Perhaps still it’s the gentle optimism in Knownie’s voice. She leads them over to the refreshments table and pours another from them both, this time turning the liquid to shimmering gold.

Constance takes a hearty gulp before fixing her gaze forlornly upon Winona. This is supposed to be a fun party but she has to ask. 

“Is there anyone you suspect? You seemed angry earlier. I must ask you not to seek confrontation alone.” She has no intention of understimating her young friend’s talents but she is still a student here. They can’t be sure how or why students are turning up petrified and entombed in ice and Constance won’t be able to sleep at night if Knownie were to chase them down alone. If she was the next addition to the infirmary’s macabre ice show.

Her eyes turn downward at the renewed broaching of current events. She uses her drink as an excuse, staring into its shimmering aurum hues.

"... We speak in confidence,  I trust...?"

"... I don't trust Blake. No one is that nice. And whenever I look at him, when he thinks no one's really paying attention... I get the sense he's hiding something."

She sighs quietly. "I'm sorry. I wish I had more to give you. I wasnt angry earlier, just.. frustrated. I feel powerless and alone. Well..." She smiles softly. "A little less so now, perhaps."

“Complete confidence. I will of course be keeping an eye on him but I shan’t tell him or anyone else about your suspicions.” It’s a half truth - Constance isn’t about to walk up to Blake and his friends to accuse him right now. Hilda and Petra will know where it’s come from of course, seeing as she has hardly sought out anyone else’s company this evening. Omitting Winona’s name won’t do much to hide her identity.

They will of course need more evidence than one young lady’s testimony but it’s somewhere to start. With a smile of her own she thanks Winona and once more interlaces their fingers together. It’s more than enough, Constance thinks to herself. 

“Trust in yourself and your own power,” her words are surprisingly solemn. A stark contrast to the giddy smile spread across her face. “You are neither powerless nor alone.”

“Now, let’s not hide in the corner, somber and dour.” Constance pulls on Knownie’s hand, marching towards the dance floor. The jaunty beat speeds to a crescendo and Constance laughs along to the melody. “The night is still young, darling. Let’s enjoy it!”

@flowerofgoneril​

[constanzea]

Lesson Never Learned | Team Fhirdiad​​

flowerofgoneril​:

Hilda watches as Constance draws a small crowd with her magical bartending skills and wonders why this isn’t used more often to entice interest in the subject.  It’s always about power and control–no thanks.  If the professors offered courses on fun party tricks, maybe she’d actually consider being interested.  Ah who’s she kidding, no she wouldn’t.

Petra slinks into the crowd with a look on her face that clearly shows her thoughts on the whole occasion and Hilda figures it’s probably best to just let her go for the time being.  With a shrug, she scans the room for the guy who told her about this little event in the first place.  

It doesn’t take her long at all to spot him near a group that must be his friends.  Perfect.  It really feels good having some confidence in her ability for once on one of these Big Important Missions.  The pressure and responsibility of wielding Freikugel and fighting was way too crushing.  But charming a cute guy at a party?  Easy and quite possibly the one thing Hilda actually has confidence in her own self about.

Lipgloss is reapplied, pigtails are smoothed down, and Hilda begins her approach adding a little extra sway in her hips once he realizes she’s there.  She locks eyes with him and smiles, holding up her offering of liquor.  “I guess I had assumed this would be a more intimate affair.  Now I wish I’d brought a bigger bottle.”  And she giggles.

Blake lights up, smiling at her (their?) approach. “Nonsense, it’s generous of you to’ve brought anything at all. I’m sure they’ll be more than thrilled,” he asserts, thumbing over his shoulder to point at the other students in his circle, who are cheerfully chatting away. Oh, the giggle. He flushes ever so slightly. “Enjoying yourselves, I hope?”

She catches his blush–too easy–and intends to capitalize on it.  Leaning in just a bit, Hilda flutters her eyelashes and replies, “oh yeah, definitely.  Even more now that I’ve got someone to talk to.  Do you guys party like this often?  I bet a guy like you knows all sorts of fun things to do around here.”

She doubts it.  He’s probably boring.  Ewan would find all sorts of things to get into here though.  She resists the temptation to look around the room and imagine the sort of mischief her definitely cuter boyfriend would find to get into at this particular party.

“Not too often, no” Blake responds with a genuine laugh and a shake of his head. “We try not to prey on the faculty’s patience overmuch, yes? And is is an elite school. Sure, there are the rough and tumble students a bit wild in spirit, but overall everyone’s mostly busy trying to claw their way to the top. These being trying times, everyone’s been after a spot of levity, is all.”

Head tilted to the side, glancing just past Hilda - as though looking for someone - Blake blinks, pauses. “… The other pink-haired girl didn’t come with you, did she?" 

 He looks ever so slightly disappointed. Then he coughs into his fist, perhaps in an attempt to deflect. ”‘Course, when I said we don’t party much, doesn’t mean we don’t know how to have fun.“ His charming smile leaves much to the imagination.

"I almost didn’t come either.” Biggest lie ever. There was no way she’d ever turn something like this down, even after the Sealed Forest Hangover Incident.  She’ll just work extra hard to not get poisoned while she’s here.  “All these rumors about frozen students or whatever are so scary! But I guess that can’t really be true, right?" 

 There’s a pause and then she can’t resist taking the bait. "Yeah? So what is it handsome mages usually do for fun around here?”

“You had seemed pretty eager to me when I invited you,” he half teased, lips curling in amusement. But then, his smile fades noticeably. “I don’t want to give you a false impression of our school, milady - in ordinary times, I should liken it to a fine establishment. Certainly, I’ve enjoyed my time here greatly and learned much besides. But those aren’t rumours. I’ve seen them with my own eyes." 

 Still, not unlike another mage Hilda knows, he doesn’t stay dour long, smile soon resurfacing, if muted a touch. "Well, I could think of a few things bored, handsome mages might get up to in the evenings, but… I don’t think I’m the one to show you those.” He coughs lightly into a fist, cheeks dusting pink ever so faintly once more. “There’re parties like these, of course. Competitions. The tea house. Sporting events. Equestrianism. Poetry. The list goes on… Pick your poison, really.”

“Wow really? You actually saw it? Gosh, I don’t want to sound too excited because like, those are real people. But I’m just so interested in magic! It’s gotta be some powerful spell that’s doing it.” She really hopes she’s right and it isn’t something that actually could be quite simple.  Having to pose as a magic student is really making her wish she had paid more attention to what he was actually saying all those times Ewan talked about his most favorite subject around her rather than just how cute he looked and sounded saying it.

As he finishes, she grins and holds up the bottle. “Hey speaking of poison…why don’t you grab a couple of cute friends and I’ll see if I can’t convince Petra over there to come join us. I’d love to hear more.”

“If they’re meant to be a secret, then it’s a poorly kept one,” Blake notes with a shrug. Her 'enthusiasm’ is more interesting than frightful current affairs, however (and this is a party), so he’s quick to match her tune. He chuckles, eyeing the bottle with a sidelong glance, then nods. “I’ll see what I can do. Meet you back here in a few.”

Constance had hoped to find out something of intrigue from Blake and his friends but their conversation seemed dull and vapid. Oh, he seemed nice enough of course but very easily pleased. Enraptured by pink hair and a giggle, off to do Hilda’s bidding for her. She respected Hilda’s talent and skills here, in manipulating the men around her so easily, so as to never want for anything. The group of young men though?

Boring. Surely there was someone more compelling and worth her time here.

She walked away, head held high and eyes peering over her fan. Her lilac eyes narrowed, carefully analysing the groups of people. To little avail, unfortunately. Groups of students chatting together, playing party games. Not one stood out individually though. That was until her eyes lingered upon a tall, slender young woman with hair so dark it was almost black and eyeliner that would make Hilda jealous.

A little mousey but certainly pretty enough to charm most of the young men gathered here if she so chose to. Instead, the young woman seemed to keep to herself. She appeared like a wallflower although lacked the immediate air of someone simply too shy to interact with others. Constance decided that she was her target and made her way over there, confident strides as she crossed the floor and rounded upon the slender brunette at the refreshments table.

Constance had not taken her for being a shrinking violet but her reaction was that of a deer caught before a huntress. Sudden and startled but she managed to school her expression swiftly enough, instead watching the blonde haired noblewoman warily.

"Not amused, are we?" Constance drawled, the hint of a smirk pulling at her lips. Her eyes twinkled with delight and she took a sip of her drink before continuing. "If you're looking for more stimulating company, your wish has been granted. Constance von Nuvelle, a pleasure I'm sure."

"Knownie," she replies. "Enchanted, I'm sure," she echoes, glancing back down at her drink. Then at Constance's. "... Can I... have some too..."

She found herself a little taken aback by the request. Knownie looked to be around the same age as her and it wasn’t as though there were teacher about to reprimand them.  "Is there something preventing you getting your own?" Constance asked with a sharp but good-natured laugh. She complied anyway pouring Knownie a drink whilst watching her carefully. Analysing her face for any reactions. "So Knownie, is there a reason you're here but not enjoying yourself with everyone else? Forgive me for presuming that no one has physically forced you here against your will."

"I..."

She stopped. Frowned in consternation. "Imeantthesparkles," she said quietly, 'neath her breath, but took the proffered drink nonetheless, mumbling a quick word of thanks.

Eyes narrowed in something akin to suspicion at Connie's question, but upon surveying her some more, Knownie soon shook her head in resignation. "I wanted a... distraction. That's all." A pause. "... You... Constance von Nuvelle..." Another, heavier pause. "Aren't you an alumni here?"

For a brief and saccharine moment, Constance basked in the glow of being known here. Remembered in these hallowed halls. Then she realised that she may have just blown their cover. Whoops. She had to fix this lest their investigations fall apart before they had even begun.

"Oh, sure," Constance muttered the spell under her breath, turning the drink bright pink too, as an olive branch. "Ah, you know of me? I did attend here for a time. My friends are prospective students and I couldn't resist coming back here, I enjoyed my time so much." She was on edge about blowing her cover but remained smiling as she scrambled internally to change the subject with haste. "I have been considering coming back for further study, if the school has more to offer. A distraction, hmm? What preys so heavily on your mind?"

She brightened somewhat as her drink sparkled. "Cute," she could be heard mumbling 'neath her breath, the smallest of smiles tugging at the corners of her lips. Suddenly conscious of/remembering she was being watched, she cleared her throat gently. "Umm... Thanks."

With Connie's answer, Knownie seemed to settle somewhat. To all appearances, she bought it.

"Do you really have to ask? I'm sure you guys have all heard of what's been going on lately."

One could have already guessed it was not merely exams looming around the corner that bothered Knownie. She had wondered if mentioning it herself would have drawn more suspicion on herself but the student had provided Constance with a legitimate excuse to discuss it. 

“Ah, of course. It's an awful situation - were you close with any of the victims?” Constance asked, voice lowered to a whisper. Whilst her speech was typically grandiose she spoke earnestly to Knownie. Knowing her alma mater was being terrorised such infuriated Constance and she would do everything in her power to solve this umbral mystery. “I hope the perpetrators are apprehended swiftly and made an example of. To taint a fine institute of learning like this? Utterly vile" Her chest puffed out, pride and determination mixing in her veins. 

"Close, ish... With a couple of 'em, I guess... Childhood friends and all. They always looked out for me..." She seemed about to say something, but apparently thought better of it. A glint of steel in her eyes, she looked up and nodded. "I hope so too. Whoever's behind this, they'll deserve whatever they have coming to 'em."

She took a sip of her pretty sparkly pink drink. Gave another small smile at it.

Despite herself, Constance found herself smiling too. She would have pitied the poor dear, left to grieve her incapacitated friends. However the steel and resolve in Knownie’s eyes was entrancing. Constance thought to herself she had found an ally and perhaps equal at this party. When the time came to punish the perpetrators, she hoped Knownie would be there to join them in glory and triumph.

@petrykos​

[constanzea]

some Regency Hapistance for you

[constanzea]

It was Soren’s suggestion, to look into their professor’s time at this school. Constance had offered to come along, curiosity piqued and being the only one who knew where the library was located. She had been admittedly surprised when two other students had joined them, especially considering one of those was Hilda of House Goneril. Surely she had some lazing around to do instead? The rose haired noblewoman did however always have an acute ear for gossip which might prove itself useful. Their other companion, Merric, appeared to be a very earnest fellow. The type to extend himself above and beyond to help others.

They filed into the library, shelves piled high with the greatest tomes and magical treatises Fodlan had to offer. Constance drifted off to a bookcase near the desk, looking over titles each more tantalising than the last. As easy as it would be to get lost between the volumes, Hilda joined her with interesting stories she’d overheard about the professor. Stories Constance had heard whispers of during her time at the School. How very inriguing. She made sure to keep and ear to Soren’s conversation as she and Hilda exchanged their own whispers. As Soren’s little chat drew to a close, she could practically feel his eyes boring into her.

Naturally, she returned it with a pointed look of her own. As if Vern’s reticence was in anyway her fault? She strode over to the desk herself, making sure to brush past Soren. 

“Good afternoon, Vern. It’s been quite some time, hasn’t it?” Her smile was sweet and patient, despite her thirst to get to the bottom of this mystery. Or perhaps merely to uncover Professor Aveline’s secrets. “Would it be alright for me to take a gander at the student records? For old time’s sake?”

The old librarian immediately goes on guard, his smile wavering some. Brows furrow in thought. "They did say to help out however I could, I suppose," he says with a sigh. And yet, to be tampering with private, sacred affairs... He squirms a little in indecision. "Hmm..."

Her eyes, sharp and bright narrow as her prize draws nearer. Her lips quirk upwards and like a viper, Constance strikes.

“The records and transcripts could prove vital to our investigation. If we could identify a pattern connecting the victims, it might provide a motive.” She cleared her throat, scanning Vern’s expression. Looked as though he still needed a little convincing. Very well, she continued her persuasion. As she spoke, her voice began to rise to a crescendo, as though she had forgotten where  she was. “There might be something, anything - a tiny detail hidden that’s been overlooked. Something that could narrow our search. Nothing can be considered inconsequential when it could further our cause of saving the victims, or at the very least preventing more of these gruesome attacks!”

He fidgets just a little more, but finally, Vern slowly nods. "Sure, lass. It's mostly notes concerning grades and the like, but if you think it might help with the horrors happening of late..."

And with that, he nods over his shoulder and begins to lead them toward a room in the back. Fetching a key from his coat, he unlocks the door and it smoothly swings open. Where one might have expected a room full of dust, it's clearly well-maintained. Apparently the man loves his job.

"At your ease, miss, though I'll ask you don't linger overlong or let students in..."

He spares a glance for the rest of them. "Anything you folk care to nose about?"

Her first order of business was finding Professor Aveline’s records. The woman was in her final year when Constance first entered the School of Sorcery, so narrowing down her class was child’s play. Flipping through the records, Constance finally landed on ‘Aveline, Hannabelle’ and pulled out the report.

She allowed herself a brief moment of triumph. Professor Aveline’s grades were good, no doubt about it but not quite as exceptional as her own. Patting herself on the back, Constance continued reading. A hard worker, passionate about Reason magic. A note from her faith teacher about how she wished Aveline would nurture her innate talents with Faith more. It seemed her skills with Reason were very good but nothing too exceptional. Her achievements appeared to be mostly the result of diligent studying and a zealous passion for the subject.

Ah, things changed at the very end of the report. Concerns about her behaviour. Suspicions an outside force was involved. Alcohol, perhaps? Constance wondered if the answer was not more sinister than that.

Alas, after snooping on their professor she turned her attention back to the institutes current students. A brief look at their transcripts produced the pattern she was hoping for. The most talented students appeared to be being picked off one by one. Who could have done such a thing though? It would have to be someone both twisted - maybe a delinquent of sorts? and highly skilled. No ordinary mage could create ice that was impossible to melt. Combing through the records more carefully, two names popped out at her. The content of the reports were interesting enough but more curiously, she was already acquainted with the pair.

Some chump named Blake had crummy grades up until this latest year. still not great in academics but his magic scores have improved greatly, the profs are happy to report. Used to get into trouble, but seems to have settled down - affable, enjoys helping out around class. Gets along with most. Curiously, one Miss Winona is known to possess fledgling dark magics, something of a rarity... They are quite intrigued to see how she will progress. Keeps to herself.

What a treasure trove of intrigue these records had proved! She’d have to thank Vern most thoroughly before sharing her findings with the others. Constance put everything back in it’s proper place and made her way to the door, placing her hand on the doorknob.

@flowerofgoneril or @windsheedme !

Personal History Lesson [Fhirdiad]

Event starter for @flowerofgoneril @constanzea @windsheedme

The investigation for Agarthans didn’t begin once they set foot across the thresholds of the towers of the Fhirdiad School of Sorcery. It had begun long ago after their first encounter, and while it was only now picking back up with incidents and people vanishing, to pretend any of their own was immune to such happenings was folly.

They’d been sent far and wide to investigate. Soren would do ust tha, withone eye still on Garreg Mach. What protection did they really have, or what faith in each other could possibly circumvent a continental enemy the archbishop let brew right under her nose?

Secrets were lying in wait for them not only in Fhirdiad, but back at the monastery, this Soren knew.

And so, their dear Professor Aveline was not exempt from his prying behind people’s backs.

The entourage of other students with him was a surprise. Soren looked behind him at Merric, Constance, and of all people Hilda. They were in the library, which were these normal circumstances, Soren would gladly engross himself in the tomes surrounding him for the duration of their stay, but as they were not in normal circumstances-

He approached the librarian, keeping his voice slightly down for the respect of the library. The room was so large he was slightly worried about an echo, despite the shelves upon shelves of books to mute sound. “Excuse me.”

The librarian looked up. He was an older gent, the lines in his face mark him as stern but kind. “I’m Vern. Just Vern. Can I help you?”

Soren hugged a few books to his chest, as was the default for him at just about any time. “Hello. I’d like some assistance, but not necessarily about books. Did you ever have our Professor Aveline, Hannabelle Aveline to you I guess, as a student? I’m curious about what she was like when she was our age.” He managed to say our age with a straight face, and hoped he came off as being innocently curious about his professor.

He crinkles his nose a moment in thought, the half of his face just peeking over a pile of books of his own. “Little Aveline, yes, yes… She was always something of a boisterous thing, that one. Not so much wild as… zealous. Enthusiastic. Why?" 

That checked out, as best as Soren could tell. Perhaps tis was sincerely a waste of time, chasing after a non lead, but while they were there, might as well gather what information they could. “I see, she’s much the same, though she tries to be a professional about it.” Soren didn’t intend it to be rude, realizing after he said it he might’ve come across that way. “She was excited to bring us here, and upon arrival I can see why. I suppose, with this being such a marvel of an institution to learn magic at, I wonder why she didn’t stay to teach?”

"Well,” he strokes his faint, grizzled gray beard. “It is an institution for the elite… Faculty included… Though that isn’t to say her career at Garreg Mach is any lesser, I’m sure.” He smiles slightly, placing a few books back where they belong as he speaks. “That and…” He pauses. Looks to Constance and then back to sorting his books. “… Well, it’s not really my place to say." 

Soren frowned, also turning to look back at Constance, like it was somehow her fault.

[constanzea]

Returning to Fhirdiad’s School of Sorcery, Constance almost felt as though she had never left. She was in her element, mingling with her fellow mages. The conversations were erudite and fascinating with the music providing a pleasant accompaniment. She chatted amiably with the students about their research projects, interesting gossip and made a mental list of notable attendees this year.

Mingling with the crowds, Constance picked up a drink and surveyed the room. The atmosphere in here was far different to that in the corridors. It was cordial, festive even. As though concerns of students frozen solid were a million miles away.

Competitive as she was by nature, the game of juice pong didn’t really hold her interest. She gave a polite smile to the daughter of a baron she was once familiar with, who was hanging by the side of the wall awkwardly. Weaving through the crowd of people, Constance made her way over to the drinks table, admiring the sparkling, enchanted drinks fountain. Here she could really show off her skills to the entire crowd.

“Hilda, Petra! Darlings, you must come over here and watch!” Her voice carried bright and clear above the cacophony of music and chatter. All eyes were on her. Wonderful. As they ought to be. With a quiet word and wave of her hands, the liquid flowing from the fountain became a prism of light and colour. “Don’t worry friends, it’s still potable. Let’s drink up and raise a glass to this fine establishment!”

@petrykos​

Lesson Never Learned | Team Fhirdiad

Hilda is surprised. Not that she was invited to a party. Of course she was. Take one look at her and it's obvious that she's fun and enjoyable to be around. It would be a surprise if she wasn't immediately invited to hang out with the cool kids. She just really hadn't expected there to be any cool kids there to begin with. Lorenz Helman Gloucester is the best frame of reference she has for a School of Sorcery student, after all.

She doesn't really know what to expect when she enters the party space (late, of course, but fashionably so) but it definitely was not this. It's surprisingly boppin. A few musicians are playing some upbeat tunes, there's food and drink, and even some folks engaged in party games. It's impressive and pretty easy to forget that there are students turned popsicles in the infirmary.

It's better that way. It might not have been her first though when she immediately agreed to show up at the party but it is probably one of their best chances to get some authentic gossip from the students.

Bottle of expensive liquor in hand (it's nice to be polite after all), Hilda heads over to the food and drink table to add her contribution to the collection of refreshments.

@petrykos @constanzea