fellsparks

[fellsparks]

An interesting thought that despite their supposed familiarity, neither of them had sparred against each other-- yet perhaps that is less common amongst the little ones, or perhaps her brother had no desire to turn his axe on a fellow ally like Yunaka. Regardless of the reasoning, it's of no consequence to her, and her grip tightens on the shaft of Représailles as her resolve is steeled. To take it easy on Yunaka would be nothing but an insult, and dark brows furrow as her back foot shifts slightly as the only warning before she darts forward with explosive speed.

The tip of her lance whips in an arc towards her opponent, her body twisting with effortlessly controlled power-- shoulders rotating, her hips following through with the motion as she aims for Yunaka's shoulder. It's not meant for a direct hit, however; she's simply aiming to unbalance her, ruby eyes narrowing into a predatory gaze as she strikes with lethal precision.

Roll: 20 = 11, Hit! -1HP. Yunaka 4/5HP

It doesn't connect in a powerful blow, but it's enough to scrape against the surface of her bicep. Nel twists her wrists slightly, turning her lance slightly in an attempt to slip past a potential parry-- there's no sense in aiming heavy strikes on someone that's nimble and quick, and she's at a disadvantage in terms of speed in this moment.

"Play? You misunderstand," Nel hisses through grit teeth as she steps back to keep Yunaka at arm's length, her primary advantage showing in the reach of her weapon. "I do not waste time on such frivolity. I intend to claim victory here."

Perhaps there are some similarities more obvious between herself and Rafal, though the latter takes on a more extreme stance of Nel's competitive streak. A hint of pride.

"Should you strike with anything less than intent to kill, though-- You will not succeed in drawing my attention."

@dcggersedge

forge a different path

w/ @dcggersedge

[fellsparks]

Her hard work to keep things at least slightly organized quickly became a proper mess with Berkut’s haphazard piling, and it prompts Nel to stifle the heave of a sigh of disappointment. It’s clear that he’s already emotionally turbulent, and the haughty attitude does him no favors— but out of desire to quickly finish this task and to do it as painlessly as possible… she makes a mental note to clean up a bit more afterwards to make junk removal easier.

Of course he’d want to know more information on the disaster. Who wouldn’t? Especially when there were rumors about a beast, or a dragon that had arisen from the carnage… Nevermind that the latter statement was entirely true.

She couldn’t admit fault, though. At least, not to him— it’s plausible that Nel would find herself in a conversation amongst the executives of Garreg Mach, offering both apology and willingness to make reparations for the accident as a whole… even if she felt like she had a wholly acceptable reason for opting to explode her way out of that treacherous trap. Dark brows furrow at his comments, though, and Nel stops in her movements in order to clear her throat before speaking.

Think, Nel. Think!

“I…. do not know,” She begins, speaking slowly and cautiously so that she doesn’t accidentally admit anything. Any time she’s lied, it’s been mostly through omission— not by blatantly misinforming. “I have heard tales as well. It is hard to tell which ones are true and which ones are not, but there seems to be a common denominator among most.”

“Whatever it was, it seems it had the capability of flying. After all, escaping from the manor would be hard for a creature that large… unless it could take a skyward route.”

That’s a satisfying enough answer, right? But there’s one last detail that irks her.

“As for the temper… perhaps it had a valid reason.”

@rigelprinceofdespair

Why do I have to do this work?

[fellsparks]

Where the onset of darkness would cause most travelers to halt their wandering until the next morning, a wanted woman had no such luxury of indulging in the warmth of the sun. Not without its own set of problems, and Nel had no desire to exert more effort than was wholly necessary; her iron sights followed the direction of the coin– and more importantly, a faded, blurry trail of evidence leading her to her final goal:  to the doorstep of a crime lord operating under the alias “Sombron”. Each henchman felled, each client whose fingers had been plucked one by one from the knuckles… each bullet lodged into the skull of a delinquent complicit in Sombron’s ‘trades’ only furthered her agenda. It was worth it. For her hands to be stained so that others’ were not. She’d long since known she had no chance of reaching any sort of “Pearly Gates” that others spoke of– she might as well go down fighting if she was doomed from the beginning. If it meant that she got to see her brother again, that she gave him a shot at freedom… Nel’s thankful that she’s alone in this world for now, the deep sigh that escapes her heard by none. She adjusts the black bandana covering nose and mouth, concealing a majority of her features from inquisitive gazes– after all, a lone rider approaching from the west wasn’t a common occurrence in a dusty run-down little town like this. It’s a swift, deliberate trot atop a lean, dark-coated mustang whose hooves stirred clouds of dust with each step; yet the woman in the saddle sat tall and still, her posture rigid as a single hand raised to adjust the brim of her weathered hat, the dark leather casting a crescent of darkness across sharp cheekbones. There’s several people whose eyes lingered at her hip, an eloquently decorated six-shooter resting in her holster– and Nel returns those gazes with ruby-red and unblinking glares. As expected, though, the townspeople swiftly avert their eyes, unwilling to challenge a mysterious visitor. There’s no satisfaction in it, though, and she simply focuses on finding her way to the inn to spend a single night–

Yet once Nel began to draw closer, the few figures lounging around the outside of the dilapidated inn caught her attention rather quickly. They’re wrestling with an unfamiliar young woman, which is alarming enough… but one of them sports a vest with an emblem plastered on the back, a golden symbol that she knows all too well; there’s no time to debate on the issue as she hears the girl’s voice ring out before she’s silenced, and the vigilante’s lips thin into a tight line as she tugged on her stallion’s reins. “Easy, boy. Wait here.” It takes only a second for her to hop off of her saddle, boots tapping a steady rhythm up the small staircase leading to the inn’s patio– fingers linger on the curve of her belt, only an inch or so from the holster of her revolver. “Pardon me,”  Her voice comes out low and gravelly, eyes locking with the woman’s for only a split second before she glances at the two men. “But I don’t think either of you know how to treat a lady properly.” “What did you say to me–” Nel doesn’t hesitate in the moment, and it all happened in the span of a breath. Her elbow snaps forward like a whip, catching the man in front of the unknown woman at the chin; a howl of pain escapes him as he wheels backwards, falling onto his rear in the most pathetic way possible. His hands scrabble at his face, eyes wide as he glares up at Nel in pure fury. Her hand grips Ivy’s upper arm and pulls hard (something she makes a note to apologize for after), jerking her to press against her chest– before there’s a moment for her to protest, the hammer of Nel’s gun is already clicking before a resonating crack echoes throughout both the inn and the mostly abandoned street. The bandit’s pistol flies from his now-injured hand, clattering to the ground as he clutches at whatever remains of his palm, a wail of anguish accompanying his slump to the ground. It’s then that Nel loosens her grip and allows the girl to move freely, stalking forward to stand above the man that previously held her hostage. The barrel– cold, silver, and unblinking– leveled at the bandit’s head with deadly stillness that only came when decisions had already been made. “Why are you here? Since when does Sombron’s cult operate this far out?”  It’s clear that the bandit didn’t expect to hear that name, his eyes darting to the side to focus on his companion that was trying to stop the bleeding from his nose. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, staring into the muzzle, almost as if he hoped he might find mercy in it. Clearly, he didn’t know who he was messing with, if that was the case. Her eyes flickered with no remorse, as impassive as they had been from the beginning. “I-I don’t know, I jus–” “Shut up! Don’t tell her anything! Are you crazy? He’ll kill us b–”

It’s cold and calculated in the way that she pivots on her foot to point the six-shooter in the other man’s direction instead, and all that can be heard is a click before she pulls the trigger. Where he had been mid-sentence only a second ago, he now fell over into the reddening dirt into a crumpled pile. His partner yelped, scrambling backwards in a desperate attempt to put distance between himself and the dark-cloaked vigilante that turned the pistol upon him once more. “Wait, wait, wait– please– Please don’t– I’ll tell you anything! Everything! You name it!” He stammers, sweat beading at his forehead. His gaze can’t pick one thing:  the reaper that stands only a foot before him, or the mangled corpse of his companion that remains stilled. “Where is he?” “Who?? Who are you t–” A click of the hammer, and her finger settling on the trigger. “Okay! Okay! Sombron, right? That’s who you want? I… I don’t know! Honestly! Wait, wait, wait– Listen. I can tell you who does know, okay? How’s that sound?” Nel doesn’t respond, but her hand isn’t flinching. The man takes that as an invitation to continue, laughing nervously. “T-There’s a guy, alright? He’s some big wig in the church, I-I don’t even know his name, really– I just know what he looks like. He’s involved in some of the bigger operations, as far as I know he’s basically Sombron’s right-hand man… Kinda weird, doesn’t like dealin’ with any of us small fry. White hair, really creepy eyes… Now that I mention it, they kinda look like yours.” Like hers? There’s a moment of recollection that flashes in her gaze, and it almost seems like she’s hesitating, the gun lowering by only a fraction as the man keeps talking. “O-Okay, I kept my end of the bargain. Let me go, okay? I won’t tell anyone, I swear. You get the info you wanted, and I get to keep my life. That sound–” He’s cut short by another gunshot, the splatter of his blood painting the side of the inn’s doorway in red. It’s clear that the information he’s given is false, because Nel knows for certain that anyone matching that description would never give in to her Father’s whims for such heinous activities. Either way, she’s got enough details to continue her trail… and she sighs before finally holstering the gun at her hip once again. She’s got other things to deal with, anyways. In a swift movement, Nel comes to crouch by the assailed stranger, a gloved hand resting gently at her shoulder in a poor attempt at soothing any of the emotional distress that comes with the massacre she’s left for this innkeep to deal with. “... Are you alright? Did they hurt you?”

@lindwyvrm

WHERE THE GRASS IS GOLDEN

western au with @fellsparks

[fellsparks]

" how long have you been sick for? and don't lie. "

The knight's stance was abandoned as he still held training sword. There was an ebb and flow, a waning that could only really be attributed to such. "You should rest, or at the very least, slow your pace," he spoke setting the training weapon to the side.

To fall to one knee on the battlefield is unprecedented, but as Nel’s vision swims and she feels the strength leaving her limbs… she doesn’t have a choice. The tip of her lance is stuck into the ground as she uses it for support, swaying for a moment before sinking down, face reddened and sweat dripping heavily from her brow. Uncharacteristically messy bangs stick to her damp skin as she takes a moment to catch her breath, the clammy feeling washing over her nearly making her want to retch.

It doesn’t stop the prideful glare that’s sent in his direction, suddenly feeling as if she’s a child being chided for reckless behavior. Perhaps there’s a bit of truth to that- but she’d rather not acknowledge it.

“This is nothing,” Nel hisses through grit teeth, dark brows furrowed as she wills strength to come back to her limbs. “I have experienced far worse. I just…. I just need a moment.”

Had she grown soft, coming to a world vibrant and free? The grip on her lance had begun to slacken, and her frown deepened.

“You are to speak of this to no one. Understood?”

[fellsparks]

Under normal circumstances, Nel would be a little less than enthused to be roped into clean-up duty like this. It's true that she readily gives a helping hand, but she's better at some things than others... except this time, she was the reason that this place had been. Well. Exploded. Into a blaze of glory. Okay, maybe it was only partially her fault. What else was she supposed to do after being stuck in a closet with the school's glorified principal, and after she got shoved into an accidental kiss---!!! The thought along has a shiver running down her spine, and she vehemently shakes her head. It's a memory she'd rather not dredge up now, and thankfully someone else has approached with perfect timing to draw her attention from the predicament at hand. Some things are better left alone, to be swept under the metaphorical rug in her brain and never touched again. Seteth is one of them. Nel has already carried several larger planks of wood to a pile, neatly stacked so that they could easily be disposed of; she feels like she's made pretty good progress, and it's nice that someone else is arriving to help... even if she starts scowling the moment he opens his mouth. He sounds a little bit too much like the haughtier side of someone else she knows, albeit magnified a hundredfold. She has enough practice dealing with these types, she thinks, and can only pray that her patience is firm enough to get through this task together. "Very well, Berkut," Nel offers in a stilted tone, motioning to the remainder of splintered wood scattered across the foyer. "As you can see, I have already begun. Should you run into any trouble with larger pieces, please let me know." After all, her strength isn't exactly human. "You may call me Nel, should you require my assistance. We have quite a bit to take care of. I hope you have come prepared." Mentally? Physically? Probably both. @rigelprinceofdespair

Why do I have to do this work?

[fellsparks]

[ DAMP ]: sender presses a cool cloth against the receiver's face, neck and forehead to try and lower their fever.

Yunaka rings out the cloth as hard as she can before walking over to where Nel is. "You know, I didn't think dragons could even get sick." She admits casually as she folds the cloth up into a nice, neat strip. She's never heard of a dragon getting sick before, unless you counted Alear's Really Long Nap. Seeing Nel like this felt like a glimpse at something she shouldn't have been seeing.

Carefully, she leans over and brushes Nel's bangs out of the way before placing the cool strip of cloth over her forehead. "There we go, that should hopefully help with some of the heat." Glass of water within reach, check! Cloth, check! She wonders if the infirmary has any of the fancy doctor stuff hat Jean had carried around, or if it's just spells up there.

"Do you need anything else before I leave you alone to sleep? I can go hunt down your brother if you want?"

If there's anything that terrifies her in this moment, it's that this visage of weakness is perceived by anyone-- and, of course, it would be too easy to escape completely unscathed. Yet a part of her is thankful that it's Yunaka instead of Rafal, because she knows exactly how much he would worry to see her in such a state. Her pride might take a blow from having a human witness her doing anything but standing tall, but Nel can live with that compared to making her brother fret. The gravelly chuckle that escapes at Yunaka's comment doesn't even sound like her, and the coughs that follow are even worse. "Perhaps... not nearly as frequently as humans, but yes. You could consider yourself lucky, if you wished-- you are likely the only of this world to witness a Fell Dragon in such a state." Her comment comes out sounding more pathetic than intended, a sniffle interrupting any thoughts that were going to be voiced. The next suggestion makes her blood run even colder, though, and her eyes widen as she reaches over to gently grab Yunaka's wrist for fear of her doing exactly what Nel wants the least. "Wait-" "Rafal... Rafal cannot know," She mumbles in a low tone, averting her gaze. Nel knows that at some point, he'll likely find out if this continues, because it's not like her to stay secluded for so long... but if she has any chance of preventing that, then she'll take it. "He does not need to worry. I will be fine, as I always am. He--" He's already worried enough. He's already seen his sister laying unmoving in a bed for far longer than any brother ever should.

"Perhaps it is selfish for me to request. But..." Her grip slowly loosens, immediately realizing that she had crossed a boundary that she didn't particularly mean to. "... Keep this a secret?"

[fellsparks]

Glowering looks could do nothing to harm her, as her skin had long since hardened into impenetrable scales over the centuries spent enduring the scorn of others-- whether it was a target of aggression from her siblings, or the judgmental looks of the Divine Dragon's followers, Nel knew exactly what it meant when someone stared at her with apprehension and disdain laced into their gaze. A slight curl of their lip, the way their chin tilts upwards as if they're looking down on her; as if she's nothing more than a stain on the concrete, unworthy of the same life they lead. Perhaps she's projecting from past memories in that regard, but Nel squares her jaw and continues her forward march. Ignoring the whispers, the avoidance-- whatever has happened here is her primary concern, and the rest falls into the category of irrelevant. She had been dispatched to provide backup in the event that things turned south, but she hadn't yet set her eyes upon whoever she was meant to assist... Until a strangely familiar emerald hue of hair could be made out in the distance, the slender woman knocking on a villager's door. The resemblance to an Emblem of Elyos is uncanny, and Nel assumes that this is who she's meant to meet: there's little deliberation before she's stepping forward to approach, gaze trailing over the unremarkable state of the person's home. It all seemed so normal, so average. Appearances certainly had the potential to be horribly misleading. "Hello, Lady L--" Nel stops herself before the name tumbles from her lips, clearing her throat. She knows well enough that Emblems from her worlds do not carry their memories over to their actual forms, and to open such a can of worms would do nothing to assist in their current endeavor. "This is my first interaction with the townspeople; there certainly are no friendly faces here." "Are you looking for someone?" Nel muses as she steps around to the window as well, frowning at the fact that it's shut tight. It would be easy to break, of course, but she understands the necessity of keeping up proper protocol at this moment. "Allow me to assist. You may call me Nel."

@sunncutter

a haven. a home.

[fellsparks]

The voice of an unfamiliar visitor gets her to raise her gaze from the papers strewn across her desk: a myriad of things, between lesson plans and several assignments turned in for her lectures. Grading certainly wasn't her favorite thing to do, so any sort of distraction was welcome... but she felt a little bit of concern when she saw this man holding a teetering tower of various supplies that threatened to topple at a moment's notice. As a result, Nel pushes herself from her seat and quickly strides forward, placing a hand on his arm as a means of steadying him. "I am with the Black Eagles. The Lions classrooms are further down the hallway-- take a left, and cross the gardens. But..." He seems capable enough, and the boxes don't seem heavy. There's no way he can see easily, though, and Nel heaves a sigh before plucking a few of the more cumbersome items off of the top of his heap. "You should be careful," She mumbles as she moves things, eventually getting to the point where she can see his face over the absolute chaos of his deliveries. He looks younger than she expected versus the voice, but Nel has to remind herself that she can't be too surprised. "It would do you no good to injure yourself from a preventable accident." "If... you are newer to the grounds, perhaps I can offer you assistance? My classes have concluded for the day." A beat of pause follows, before she realizes that she hasn't said anything in regards to her own identity. "I am Nel. I have not seen your face around, yet I am still newer to the staff..."

@siraverage

Special Delivery: Pencils

idk what titles even are anymore; Stahl & Nel

[fellsparks]

Forty-five minutes? That's not too long, and Rafal's already aware that she'll be out later tonight due to running a gig. Besides, if she had to, she could shoot him a text or call him to let him know she would be held up; they've always made a point to be open with their communication following several... hiccups they had as younger adults. Another shot is pushing it, she thinks, but perhaps she can indulge just this once. Maybe she's taking a page out of her brother's book and being reckless for a night, even if she has no intention of getting into the same situations he finds himself in. It would just be nice to.... give in for a bit, to relax, to talk to someone that doesn't know her as an infallible source of strength that can't possibly be chipped away at. And, well, that shot goes down just fine. The heat she feels creeping up her neck is indication enough of how much she's got in her bloodstream, and she lets out a long sigh before leaning back in the chair. "I should let you work, then. Don't want to get you in trouble," Nel chuckles, gently nudging the now-empty shot glass towards Lucina. "I can behave for 45 minutes. I'll be here." There's already someone looking to nab her attention, and Nel finds herself wanting to be selfish and keep Lucina to herself. But she doesn't, instead glancing down at her phone as a means of keeping herself from saying or doing something stupid as the alcohol courses through her veins. Yet it's not totally uncommon for her eyes to wander, a mix of curiosity and attraction causing her gaze to linger on the bartender as she flits between customers. Ugh, maybe she shouldn't have drank. Nel pulls up whatever random news outlet she can think of, forcing herself to read articles in order to clear her mind once again. @futurepastlord

me when a girl tells me to do something

modern au w/ @futurepastlord

[fellsparks]

Despite how easy it would be to take his words as a slight, Nel merely hums in response as ruby eyes flicker across his features. It's true that he could have chosen to act instead of speak, a blade brandished in her direction on a moment's notice-- and there is kindness in refraining to do so. Perhaps at another point in time, Nel would view that kindness as naivete and stupidity, but one can never have enough allies in a foreign land. A sentiment that this Chrom seems to understand well enough. She would, however, be certain not to bare her back to him. Not until he had proven himself time and time again, as it would be too easy to prey on the downfall of a Fell Dragon. Nel has always had confidence in her own ability, though, and she knows how easy it is to tear a man's spine in twain. She's done it before, after all. "There are... quite a few instructors. I do not know them all by name; however, my brother is one of them as well." Nel brings a hand to her chin as she thinks, listing off names in her mind; there's several that she hasn't had a chance to speak to yet. "He specializes in axes. There is Professor Yunaka, who is adept with daggers... Queen Ivy, proficient with magic. There are plenty more, many of which are just as talented as they are-- but these are who I know best." "My point is that there are plenty. I assure you, I am not the only one for the lance."

@soulsaligned

not all heroes must fell a dragon.

continued from here | chrom and nel

[fellsparks]

... Raffles?

That certainly hits her like a bullet, and she can't help but stare at Yunaka for a moment with a completely blank expression. Yet it passes quickly as Nel shakes her head briefly, refocusing her attention on the matter at hand-- perhaps her brother turned a new leaf and was more accepting of things like this in the present, or... maybe the girl with her just didn't care, and wasn't afraid of his ire. Regardless of the reasoning, it was certainly new. "Rafal would not part with Revanche," The Fell Dragon speaks matter-of-factly, and though she does not tend to assume his words or actions... this is something she knows to be true regardless of circumstance. Their weapons are extensions of themselves, and Revanche is the counterpart to her Représailles-- for him to abandon it would be to abandon his other half, and Nel knows that there is no universe in which he would do such a thing. Regardless of their positions or their locations, one would complete the other in every aspect. "This I know. Even if he has not used it, I know it will be on his person." The guidance is appreciated, and it takes only a moment for Nel to retrieve her own lance from her quarters-- it would be easy to leave it unattended, but she can't say that she particularly trusts the idea of taking a chance of her lance being harmed or mishandled in any form. Stepping back into the training ground, eyes sweep across the hardened floors as she strides to the center. "If you are close to Rafal, I will warn you of this." Nel bares her weapon in a simple flourish, the quick spin allowing her to reposition herself into a defensive stance as she readies herself to jump into this fray. There's no sense in dragging things out, even if this is all for practice. It would be easy to keep her mouth shut and simply use the potential deception to her advantage, but... perhaps this is a test in and of itself. "He and I do not fight in the same manner. If you assume that I would make the same choices that he does... you will find yourself on your back and disarmed. Shall we, Professor Yunaka?" @dcggersedge

forge a different path

w/ @dcggersedge

[fellsparks]

It's too easy and too familiar to send the sharp end of her lance tearing through the flesh of undead beasts, the gurgling wail of a wolf meeting its end no longer bringing her any sense of remorse. Perhaps several thousand years ago, Nel would have felt sadness over the ending of a life; but she's come too far now, and this is a matter of survival. If it's a choice between her or the enemy, it's obvious which she will take over the other. A quick flourish of Represailles enables her to flick the blackened blood from its normally pristine surface, the spatters across the ground leaving a trail as she steps over the various corpses left in her wake. Yet there's another person here, one that seems oddly familiar... and Nel's lips thin into a firm line as she stares him down. The dagger in his hand, the wolf that he sits atop-- It's too familiar, to the point where unease prickles down her spine and her throat bobs as she swallows. He couldn't be alive, and he couldn't be here in this world. Granted... Nel didn't exactly know where she was at this moment, only that she intended to find a way out. Treasure be damned. "What are you doing here? I had assumed I was alone."

Not that it matters. If Fogado chose to present himself as a threat... it would be handled accordingly, and without hesitation.

@losojos-decupido

didn't something like this happen before

non-mission board: excavation | any skill +1

[fellsparks]

“I am able to wait. There are plenty who do not have the same ability to watch time pass as easily as I do, yet I believe that encompasses the charm of humanity.” Nel’s fingers idly trace over another blank piece of paper, no doubt left for other patrons that wish to contribute to the festivities. “Despite your lifespans and despite your fragility… It does not stop you. You strive for a dream you may never see, you sow seeds so that others may one day taste the fruits of your garden. There is beauty in that.” The message inscribed on the paper that Edelgard offers to her does bring a smile to her face and a breathy chuckle follows, eyes flickering upwards to see the expression on her face. Straight, to the point, concise— as goals should be, and she certainly seems to understand this well enough. “What made you decide to come to Garreg Mach, Miss Edelgard?” Nel muses, her brow arched slightly. As a noble, she can deduce that it’s more complicated than simple desire, but… Humanity always has a way of making the best of a difficult moment, and she certainly believes that Edelgard would have done such. “Is it the wish you show to me now? For myself… I simply seek to break a cycle that began when I was young.”

@hresvelged

nothing ventured, nothing gained

toaball 2025 cont. from here

[fellsparks]

There’s no chance that Nel gets to offer any kind of an agreement or protest before she feels a soft fabric pressed against her face— yet as she turns her face slightly to escape it, the soft plush of Ivy’s… chest…. is already what she finds herself become shoved into as she adjusts in an attempt to jar the door. If there’s a slight yelp of surprise, it’s muffled enough by Ivy that it shouldn’t be too embarrassing. Now that she can’t see, however, it feels as if she’s completely lost any sense of space. Gloved hands grip at Ivy’s thighs in an attempt to keep herself steady, as well as making sure that she doesn’t lose her balance as she shoves on this door that Nel REALLY needs open right now— she pulls a little bit too hard, and she’s accidentally got one of Ivy’s legs hitched around her waist. Which, actually, might be a little bit better for the situation as a whole. At least Nel can relax some, her thigh no longer in dangerous territory, though she still can’t see ANYTHING. Her ears are absolutely burning, and she almost thinks she can still feel the ghost of Ivy’s lips, which just makes her squeeze her eyes shut that much harder. Absolutely preposterous. Embarrassing, for her to be reduced to such a state! Her pride as a Fell Dragon dictates that she should be more stalwart than this, but… in her defense, she’s never been this close to another person like this. Nel certainly doesn’t know how to handle it, or what to think about it, other than how unfortunate these circumstances are. Her right hand languidly slides up a little bit higher, just to offer Ivy’s weight more support as she moves, grumbling something unintelligible into the confines of… of…. She’s not going to think about it anymore. She can’t. Not if she wants to leave this closet alive. "Just... just hurry...!"

@lindwyvrm

(gold star) YURI!!!!

toaball2025 cont. from here

[fellsparks]

While there’s truth to Dorothea’s statement that there exist plenty of songstresses within the confines of the Empire, Nel is perceptive enough to ascertain that she’s not incorrect in her initial assessment. Adrestia, Faerghus, Leicester— none of it holds any meaning or weight to someone who hails from none of these nations; nor would it ever, as borders ordained by humanity could never bind a dragon. It’s easy for her to see in this dim alcove, ruby irises flashing for a moment as a result of the reflection of the moon’s light as she takes a few more steps forward. “I believe you may misunderstand my interest,” Nel speaks in a low tone as she comes to find her own seat on the space so graciously offered to her, one leg crossed over the other in an attempt to find some sort of comfort. “As much as I enjoy music, I would dare not ask you to perform simply for my sake. Were it your desire, you would do so— is that not correct?” Perhaps it’s more complicated than that. Either way, she glances at Dorothea’s face, and instead of the performer that she’s known to be— Nel sees a young girl, a young human whose shoulders should be free of burden. Yet that’s how it is for a majority of these students, isn’t it? She found the same thought crossing her mind upon meeting her House Leader, upon being approached by Sylvain, and countless others…. even those she fought alongside in Elyos. “I am indeed. I serve as a lance instructor for your house, Miss Dorothea- I am glad that we now have the chance to speak properly. Admittedly… I have been quite curious.” “I— Have not had the opportunity to speak to many people with the same interests as myself. Whether it was from a lack of time, or more pressing matters to be handled.”

@encantresse

an aria of mine

toaball2025 w/ @encantresse

[fellsparks]

Once the hidden identity of her companion had been revealed, it didn’t change any of Nel’s thoughts in the slightest; initially, she thought that the novelty of the moment might fade once the mystery and intrigue had been removed— but there’s no doubt in her mind that the connection she’s formed here is genuine. A bow of her head as a gesture of greeting (even though they’d been speaking for a while now) is the best thing she can think to offer, the corners of her lips tugged slightly upwards into a warm smile. “Miss Marianne. It is a pleasure to put a name to the woman I have come to know this evening.” Nel certainly understands the trepidation that comes with bearing an actual identity to another, especially for one as timid as her. Extending a hand, the Fell Dragon offers her a moment to take it, only ever out of courtesy and the desire to maintain the bond they’ve created out of … well… what originally began as nothing. “Of course. There are many things I can tell you of my world, and of my kind— though you may have met my brother before,” Nel murmurs in a low, quiet tone, her features softened. “And I would love to hear of yours. Whatever you would like to teach me: I will listen. This I can promise you.” “As for telling others, you need not worry. I would prefer for this to remain between two kindred spirits. My brother and I are the final pieces of our world… and I intend for it to remain that way.” It’s a more complicated sentiment than she wants to explain. “Let’s enjoy the rest of our evening together- Shall we?”

--End!

Somehow, she finds it easier to speak in a voice that she fully acknowledges as her own-- it takes no effort to place a hand over the bony façade and peel it from her features, a quick flash of light undoing whatever manner of spell had been cast over her for the sake of anonymity. A sigh of relief follows as Nel carefully places the skull onto the ground beside both of them, shaking her head slightly in order to brush off any remnants of discomfort. "An acceptable answer," Nel chuckles, ruby eyes glancing to the side to settle on her companion. It doesn't matter who they are, truthfully- a soul has been bared to her in some capacity, and perception always has been a strong suit of hers. "Very well. My attention is all yours; this world is full of things I have yet to experience, even after thousands of years." "I have been afforded a second chance... an opportunity to truly live. There are many things I have not learned, and many things I must relearn-- yet I am content with this." "Regardless of your own identity, I thank you for your support. And know that should you require my own, I will grant you it without condition. Were everyone in this world as thoughtful as you, perhaps wars would not be fought over petty squabbles."

[fellsparks]

She’s far too used to taking care of Rafal’s needs, already well-aware of the fact that it’s a real possibility that she may be in charge of the others as well. A shake of her head follows their comments, along with a breathy chuckle as Nel begins to deposit the various bags and belongings on the nearest couch within the living room— which is a little… dustier than she thought it would be. “There’s no need to worry. If it’s cooking, I can take care of it. Though, my tastes may be a bit on the spicy side. At least, that’s what I’ve always been told.” It’s true that she’s toned it down in the past, and she supposes she can do it again. Nel never has particularly enjoyed cooking, but it’s unfortunately a necessity… and one that she’s become quite proficient at. A roll of her shoulder ears her a pop, a small hum of discontent following as she feels the stiffness in her joints. “As for a bedroom, I don’t need much space to be fine. I didn’t pack very many things.” Her own bedroom back home isn’t very large either, and she almost feels unease when she’s deposited into a giant, open room and expected to sleep normally in it. There’s something a little comforting about walls that are closer, almost as if it’s a nest of sorts. “I’ll at least take a look.” Nel shuffles for a moment, making sure her phone and wallet are in her pockets before hefting the bags off of the couch once again, setting out to ascend the staircase— it’s a short trip, thankfully, though she feels the burn in her shoulders from the exertion from some of the heavier objects. It’s definitely a nice cabin, and gorgeous, but… Nel still prefers her own home. This is a chance for her to relax, but she can’t help but feel some pang of worry in her chest for going off without her brother. “Anyone else coming up?”

@sunncutter

it's an indigo night, there's a chill