heavy-draw

[heavy-draw]

Ah, so he does recognize her. Can't say she's too surprised by that, considering the last time they ran into each other properly was during a life-or-death scenario. The thing she does remember the most about him, however, was how... chaotic he was-- and that sentiment seems to stay true, judging by the fact that Fogado has landed himself in this situation. "Probably the same thing you are!" The archer shouts back as she lets loose another arrow, this time hitting the ground in front of the dog and forcing it to swerve. It loses a bit of steam in its pace as a result, and Shamir shifts on the towering branch in an attempt to get a better shot. They're making enough noise as it is. "Do you have a plan?! Keep running!" There's so many questions running through her head, but all she knows is that she needs to make sure he doesn't get eaten alive by this thing. Taking a deep breath, Shamir steadies herself before letting another arrow go, and this time it strikes exactly where she wants it to-- in between the eyes, a pitiful whine escaping the creature before it slumps to the ground. A sigh of relief follows before she hops down from her perch, wiggling through a gap in the hedges to come check on the student. "I can't tell if you're brave... or just stupid. Where did you think you were going?" @losojos-decupido

who would win: every pokemon or 500 unethically bred dogs

mission board: pearlescent | riding +1

[heavy-draw]

It was only inevitable that Shamir be tasked with investigating this hell-hole of a place, especially with the various rumors circulating of experimentation. That's a slippery slope, and crest beasts were enough of a problem without the added weight of other demonic creations running amok, and so she had agreed to perform surveillance of the nearby area in order to gain as much information as she could. A perch up in one of the larger trees, it's easy for her to see a good portion of the garden grounds. She remains crouched in the shadows, the dense foliage keeping her mostly out of sight-- she doubts that anyone would be looking up in her direction anyways, and if they did.... well, she could play it off. It's not like she's doing anything blatantly illegal here, anyways. She does, however, recognize a noise that sounds nothing like a human OR any animal that she knows; violet eyes sweep across the grounds until she encounters a hunched-back beast that lumbers forward with an awkward gait. It's too.... twisted to be considered any kind of a dog, and it's certainly nowhere near human-- but she wonders what's drawn it from its slumber when she spots a silhouette that looks awfully familiar. Is that... who she thinks it is? Fuck. That creature is already lunging forward to break out into a run once it catches a whiff of Fogado's scent, and Shamir does the only thing she knows to do. Nocking an arrow takes only a split second, and before she has a chance to think about anything, it's already sailing down towards the hound. A sharp whistle is the only evidence of its movement, sticking deep into its shoulder and evoking a guttural cry that surely gives the impression that it's pissed off even more now. They can deal with it later. For now... "Are you going to stand there and stare? Move!" @losojos-decupido

who would win: every pokemon or 500 unethically bred dogs

mission board: pearlescent | riding +1

[heavy-draw]

Perhaps she didn't expect to be paired with so many people who were this isolated-- yet... now that they're all coming down to the end, Shamir lets out a long sigh. It's not surprising to her that she's out on the heels of Jeralt and this young man she's not acquainted with, and she offers a shrug of defeat. "My bet was wrong, too. So I guess I got beat on both fronts," The former mercenary grumbles, reaching for the almost empty glass of wine that she set on the ground outside of the jacuzzi. "But hey. At least I'm not alone in getting knocked out on this round...?" Shamir takes a swig of the remainder of her drink, but quickly comes to a freezing halt upon hearing Lewyn's introduction. "A.... student?" She turns to face him, eyes wide as if she had been struck with a bat. Yet it quickly morphs into something more akin to suspicion laced with distrust, a frown stretching across her features. If someone like Seteth were to find out that the Knights were participating in such ridiculous endeavors with students.... (albeit unknowingly), she's certain she'd never hear the end of it. "What happens in the jacuzzi stays in the jacuzzi. Understood?" @grxstnnefealltoir

those are his hooves you bitch

toaball2025 - faculty jacuzzi night

[heavy-draw]

These guys certainly know how to dampen the mood sometimes, but Shamir's keenly aware of the fact that she's putting fingers down right alongside some of the others. She's also mildly disappointed that her own statement didn't cause someone to be crucified in the middle of the jacuzzi in front of everyone else, but it could be worse. "Shamir. Of Dagda, technically," She shrugs at the introduction, mulling over possibilities in her head. There's no way she's playing into the more serious topics, not when liquor courses through her veins in this moment. Deidre's statement doesn't catch her, and she offers a small chuckle. "Sure, I can use a sword. But nobody taught me- I learned through trial and error, and getting my ass kicked. I prefer the bow anyways," She reasons, finally reaching a moment where she's not losing another finger. She's hot on Jeralt's heels for being the next eliminated. "Let's see.... Never have I ever... Broken a bone. That should have some good stories, yeah?" All of them here are on the battlefield in one way or another- Shamir's come close to having her shoulder broken from a vicious blow, but generally she can keep out of harm's way. "I'm lucky, compared to others I know." @nohrianoutlaw

those are his hooves you bitch

toaball2025 - faculty jacuzzi night

[heavy-draw]

alcohol cw /

seteth irons a calloused palm down his soot-speckled face. the upper half of his uniform is in tatters, whatever's left of it.

"... shamir. it pains me to ask, but i require assistance," he sighs, approaching the familiar figure from behind. "if you have some form of outerwear, perhaps a cloak or—"

and then the stench fills his nostrils, which scrunch posthaste. "hold on. just how much have you had to drink?"

"Huh?" Okay, that's not a voice she expected to hear creeping up on her when everything in her mind is moving at a snail's pace, but Shamir tries her hardest to appear somewhat put together. The sway on her feet and the red in her cheeks is enough to make all her efforts in vain, however, hooded eyes staring absolutely dumbfounded at.... Seteth? That's certainly his voice. Those are..... certainly his pecs. But it's so out of character for him to bare such beauty to the outside world. She thinks. There's a few moments of awkward silence that passes before she silently holds a drink out to him. "Too much, apparently-- no way I'm seein' you .... walkin' around without a shirt." Some words are slurred while others remain normal, and it seems there's no method to her madness. "But hey, the look suits you. I think more people would like you if you did it more often. I've got a jacket back at the bar, c'mon." An overly hearty slap to the shoulder follows, nearly knocking HERSELF over in the process. When she pulls her hand away, a few shreds of his uniform's remains are in her palm. "Weird fashion statement, but okay... Good to see you venturing out of your shell?"

[heavy-draw]

Oh. Well that was fast. There's a hint of a chuckle that rumbles in her chest as Jeralt takes a loss immediately, and as Sin struggles with getting any sort of decent value on his first pull. Perhaps this is the break that she needed to secure some sort of victory this evening, and she rubs her hands together for a moment before pulling her own cards to see what her fate is.

Shamir draws 2 cards: [Roll 1d10 x2: 7, 5 = 12]

It's not a terrible start. The odds are in her favor, and her fingers tap against the table before she pulls her next, breath held.

Shamir draws 1 card: [Roll1d10: 8 = 20]

It's barely good. And she lets out a whistle as she opts to stop her luck there, leaning back in her seat before motioning to Sin. "Think you can beat that?" Shamir is already reaching for her drink, violet eyes settling on the two cards in front of the other man. "Don't feel too bad, Captain. My luck's been shit all night." @bladebrecher @chryssaetos

ah shit. here we go again

toaball2025 cont. from here

[heavy-draw]

'Perhaps the cards will favor neither of us.' Bold words. Bold words that quickly become untrue as Lukas gets a fairly decent start, and words that become simply insulting as he lands squarely on the number that both of them have been chasing. There's a blank look of acceptance that settles on her features as she runs a hand through her hair, a long sigh of defeat following suit. It's not her night. It's really, really not her night. She's lost count of how many challenges she's failed to win, though she's thankful it doesn't result in her losing money. Instead, it just results in her losing sanity and decision-making ability with every drink that's downed. Unclipping the charm from her belt, she sets it on the table for him-- a reminder of his victory, and a reminder of her bitter defeat. Yet despite the harsh loss, Shamir offers him a hint of a smile. "You know the drill. Loser takes another shot- so, of course I'm taking you up on that." "Also, Lukas? That was foul." @deliverred

all or nothing

toaball2025 cont. from here

[heavy-draw]

Shamir can't say she's surprised by some of the topics offered, some more straight-laced than others. Yet her composure slowly becomes shaken as Captain Jeralt puts down finger after finger, yet to hit a single question where he doesn't do so. Her shoulders are shaking in laughter that she's trying her hardest to keep down, even as she loses a few of her chances in the meantime. "You've never eaten meat?" Shamir mumbles under her breath, seemingly in awe of this revelation more than others. "Crazy. As for you, Captain Jeralt.... You gonna cough up the story about that lap dance or not?" A sly smirk makes its way onto her face as she glances at the man with the eyepatch, whose money she had put on in the first place to win. Even though it's looking that Jeralt may take the crown, she can't be too upset. "I'm somehow not surprised you've given one." Either way, the show must go on. Leaning back against the edge of the jacuzzi, Shamir lets out a hum of thought before a brilliant idea pops into her head... and the grin on her face turns into something far more sinister. "Alright. Never have I ever...." "Peed in a pool." She's watching intently for whoever's finger goes down first-- and she will NOT be trusting them in the jacuzzi. @nohrianoutlaw

those are his hooves you bitch

toaball2025 - faculty jacuzzi night

[heavy-draw]

Somehow, by the grace of the goddess herself, Shamir is in the lead. Which she really doesn't care about right now, considering her vision swims and she knows she needs a glass of water stat. But their competition isn't over yet, and so she pushes herself to her feet once again, unsteady in the sand as she marches forward to rise to the occasion. Last time. Just one more. She can make it that far, right?

Shamir rolls: 2. 0 points for Round 3.

Wrong. This time, she doesn't even make it to the bar. Her world turns into a blur and a step to the side ends with her stumbling sideways until she loses her footing in the sand, collapsing in a rather pitiful heap with zero attempt to right herself or peel herself off of the ground. It feels nice, to stay here.... to just........... lay down.... while everything around her is a strange mix of colors and sounds that just kinda make her want to puke. "Hrrk......" And she might, if she even tries to get up. So she lays there, no damns given for the state of her pride, mumbling something about how she wishes someone would turn out the lights. "S'too damn noisy... Ah shit..." @craneswings

i set the bar low (for limbo)

toaball2025 w/ @sunncutter, @craneswings, & @deadlyminded

[heavy-draw]

Were there less alcohol in her bloodstream and less extenuating circumstances surrounding everyone's presence in the Viscount's manner, Shamir would never find herself indulging in something like this. Sure, the idea of figuring out everyone's true depravity was a little amusing, but her secrets were also on the line. Sinking into the warm, bubbling water of this so-called jacuzzi was comforting, at least, even as she held a champagne glass in hand. The mercenary had been wise enough to at least pack a change of clothes, including a swimsuit-- after all, the chances of her playing at being a lifeguard had been quite high when she agreed to assist with the supervision of the celebration as a whole. So now, sporting her simple black bikini, she takes a seat across from the various other staff members that have joined in. She assumes it's an attempt to pass the time. Whatever. This night has gone to shit for her on several occasions, and she's still a little pissed that she couldn't win a single game of cards. "Before we start. I'm gonna make a bet," Shamir muses as she brings her glass to her lips, violet eyes dragging across those who had gathered with her. "I wanna take a guess at who's gonna be out first." There's several people here that she's seen in passing, but she doesn't really know all that well. It makes it harder, but that's part of the fun.

"... You. There's something up with you. I'd be willing to bet you've done some weird shit." She points a finger in Niles's direction, seemingly sure in her guess. "If anyone else wants to bet, go for it. Not a requirement." Another swig as she mulls over the thoughts in her head. Shit, there's a long list of things she HAS done, and not a very long list of things she HASN'T done. "Let's see, starting off with something easy.... Never have I ever... given a lap dance." Oooh, that's gonna be funny material if anyone puts a finger down. @bladebrecher @unsungblade @nagaficat @venticatenae @pheraemarquess @nohrianoutlaw @grxstnnefealltoir

those are his hooves you bitch

toaball2025 - faculty jacuzzi night

[heavy-draw]

Shamir is a little surprised that her and Yuzu both managed to outdo the other two, but she vaguely wonders if it's because her limbs feel much looser than they normally do. As she gulps down her shot of defeat, she's certain it will only get worse from this point on-- or better, by some stroke of luck that she doesn't have this evening, judging by her other experiences. "If you can't handle the taste, Yuzu, try lemon-- it'll make it easier to go down," Shamir motions to the bowl of fruit she had procured from the beginning, knowing that after a point some of them would be trying to survive through their next drink. She sets down her empty glass and rolls her shoulders before adjusting the bar lower, and preparing her spinning head.

Shamir rolls: 12, 4 Round 2: 1 point

The first loop is shaky, and she feels herself nearly hitting the bar-- she doesn't even get a CHANCE to try the second before she already whacks her face against it, letting out a muffled "OW" before flopping over into the sand. Again. And this time, there's sand in her shirt, she's pretty sure-- and probably in her pants. Why did she wear this, again? "Oh, fuck. Yep. Next shot...?"

She makes no move to get out of the sand. Yet. Maybe when her head stops spinning.

@craneswings @sunncutter @deadlyminded

i set the bar low (for limbo)

toaball2025 w/ @sunncutter, @craneswings, & @deadlyminded

[heavy-draw]

Aha, it seems she hit the mark right on the money. With a light chuckle and a swig of her drink, Shamir moves quickly to adjust the bar slightly-- it's enough to prove to be a bit of a challenge, but certainly not enough to make any of them have a true knockout. Yuzu jumped in as enthusiastically as the mercenary expected, but she hasn't had a chance to properly meet the other two... no matter, this was certainly one way to get acquainted. "Easy. Simple. You mess up, you drink. Minus you, of course." She gestures to the secluded man, perfectly fine with the offering of gold instead of a drinking game. "Whoever gets furthest wins." In normal circumstances, this would probably be easier for her. But she already feels the warmth of her drinks pulsing through her veins, and she lets out a sigh. The bar is just low enough to cause her to lean b ack to a point of discomfort, catching her balance by extending her arms in front of her and shimmying forward-- it's nothing for someone who's constantly on the move and constantly zipping in and out of danger. Once she's through, she straightens her back before moving on to the next. Another easy one, though this time she gives the slightest hint of a wince; it's more of a challenge, and Shamir wills herself not to lose her balance. The last one, however... she can't get back quite far enough without losing her balance, the world spinning before she falls on her ass quite unceremoniously. There's sand in her pockets now, and she lets out a groan as she just...... lays there. For a moment.

Shamir: 2 points for Round 1!

".... time for another drink, I guess."

@sunncutter @craneswings @deadlyminded

i set the bar low (for limbo)

toaball2025 w/ @sunncutter, @craneswings, & @deadlyminded

[heavy-draw]

The night is still young-- yet it hasn't stopped Shamir from feeling like she's already way too many drinks into a bender; it seems to be the only way to keep her from being completely bored into a coma, however, and so she'll take what she can get... even when it comes to participating in silly little party games here and there. This one, however, seems more to her tastes. Her faculties are a little sluggish, sure, but Shamir's always been known for being quick, lithe, and quite flexible considering her line of work. If it means she's got a chance to kill some time and score some more drinks... snagging a few glasses from the nearest bar, she sets off to participate in the next round of limbo that's being started, watching as the stragglers from the previous bout have already begun dispersing. There's a few others gathered that seem to be at least somewhat interested, and the mercenary cocks a brow in their direction before holding one of the empty glasses up. "I've got nothing better to do. Who feels like giving this a shot? Anyone who wants to match my wager, you're welcome to." A few bottles, some fruit, and there's several drinks lined up on the nearest surface for any of them to pick and choose from. "Now, come on. Someone give me a challenge here." It's said in jest, but she knows the types that linger around Garreg Mach-- competitive, eager to prove themselves. It's too easy to pull a reaction from most, and if this is what it takes to get some people to join in... @craneswings @sunncutter @deadlyminded

i set the bar low (for limbo)

toaball2025 w/ @sunncutter, @craneswings, & @deadlyminded

[heavy-draw]

Well, Lukas has already wiped the floor with her on more than one occasion tonight, and she's quite certain that with a loss that heavy, there's little chance of her redeeming herself. But with a new beginning comes new opportunities-- settling in with a drink and her trusty deck of cards, she motions for Sin to take a seat across from her. "Good news for you. You don't have to be good to win. It's all about the luck of the draw." (Yeah, she'd know a lot about that, wouldn't she?) There's another familiar mop of hair that seems to be lingering and looking awfully bored... and so she glances over her shoulder to wave in Jeralt's direction as well. She knows him well enough to know that he's looking for any sort of distraction to pass time; they're both soldiers through and through, a stuffy party doesn't suit either of their tastes. Especially not one so noisy, even if there is alcohol flowing freely. "Hey. You look bored. Come spice things up for us over here, yeah?" Shamir doesn't wait for a response before dealing out 2 cards to herself, to Sin, and then to a blank spot that she's reserved for the former Captain. This time, in contrast to the last few games she's played... she doesn't flip her cards over just yet. Maybe that's why she's been having bad luck-- she's been going first. No harm in switch it up, right? "Have at it, boys. Take your pick of who takes it away." @bladebrecher @chryssaetos

ah shit. here we go again

toaball2025 cont. from here

[heavy-draw]

Fuck.

Shamir lets out a groan, and though it sounds like it's agonized, it's clearly in jest as she leans forward to take a swig of her drink. Her luck hasn't been too great even leading up to this event, and it's good(?) to know that the streak hasn't been broken quite yet-- but it's all fun and games anyways, and the offering of another round catches her interest immediately. Lukas is certainly on the same wavelength as her, and a lopsided grin dons her features as she gathers the cards once again. "Sure. It'd be nice to redeem myself; and I don't like leaving on a losing note."

Shamir draws 2 cards. [Roll 1d10x2: 9, 4 = 13]

It's a bit of a more promising start this time, and her eyes flicker up to judge Lukas's expression. There's still a decent chance for her to get a good hand here, and she figures that there's not much to lose in going for another draw.

Shamir draws 1 card. [Roll 1d10: 10 = 23]

There's a long silence that passes, Shamir simply staring blankly at the three cards on the table before her. She doesn't say anything before she reaches for her drink once again-- instead of a sip, though, she simply chugs the remainder of it in one gulp.

@deliverred

all or nothing

toaball2025 cont. from here

[heavy-draw]

Hah, the Lukas she met during the battle for Garreg Mach and the Lukas she knows now certainly has guts-- and it's the trait in him that she can appreciate the most. With a gesture of her hand, Shamir sets her glass down on a nearby table before digging in the pockets of her slacks, pulling out a deck of cards in a quick flourish. It takes only a moment for her to peel them out of their case and give them a good shuffle; she's always been good at sleight-of-hand, and these minor card tricks are nothing to pull off. Once she's satisfied with the state of the deck, she doles out 2 cards to each of them. Fingers tap against the surface of the table before she opts to turn hers over, violet eyes settling on the prizes of her pulls.

Shamir draws 2 cards. [Roll 1d10x2: 2, 2 = 4]

A ... lower value than she expected. Alright. Something tells her that luck might not be on her side, and she frowns.

Shamir draws 1 card. [Roll 1d10: 5 = 9.]

...... Her frown deepens.

Shamir draws 1 card. [Roll 1d10: 4 = 13.]

She thinks she's cooking with gas now? She doesn't mind taking risks in this sort of a situation, but with the track record of her cards so far....

Shamir draws yet another card. [Roll 1d10: 5 = 18.]

Eh. Good enough. "Alright. I'm staying. Give it your best shot."

@deliverred

all or nothing

toaball2025 cont. from here

[heavy-draw]

girl get me out of here || toaball2025

Attending as faculty and a glorified babysitter, Shamir is dressed down into nothing special. She's sporting a white dress shirt and some slacks, sleeves rolled up and a few buttons open to deal with the hot and humid air-- and a drink in hand. True to her normal demeanor, she's sticking to the edges of the crowd. Business is business. She's not attending with a date. A seashell charm is on her belt. Seashell: Deirdre (link, group thread) Starfish: Jeralt (link, group thread), Lukas (link) Anchor: Eliwood (link, group thread), Ferdinand (link) Turtle: Lewyn (link, group thread) Pearl: Kris (link, group thread)