lalumierel - Tumblr blog

[lalumierel]

"L'Arachel!"

Ephraim is careful to keep the spaghetti and meatball at an arm's length as he jogs over to the Rausten princess. His suit is already a wrinkled mess, and he does not want to add a stain to the mix.

"The person at the food table told me I had to eat this with a partner, so, uh – here." Ephraim holds out the plate in a sort of offering. "You must be hungry after all the dancing too, right?" There had been another condition the person had mentioned – a rather ridiculous sounding one, but he had come to Fódlan to broaden his horizons. It'd be unbecoming for a king to have a narrow mind about other countries' traditions, so Ephraim leans down and nudges at the singular meatball lying in the middle of the plate with his nose, rolling it toward L'Arachel.

He lifts his head, awfully aware of the smidge of tomato sauce on his nose, feeling incredibly foolish. "Er – eat up, L'Arachel."

Seeing familiar faces, especially those she had survived a continent war with, never fails to bring a smile to her face. Even if those people were decorated in wrinkled suits. Really. L'Arachel gives him a smile full of pity. Had he never heard of an iron? A hanger? A mirror? As a royal, she'd expect him to be a little more put together, but it was Prince Ephraim. He never struck her as the presentation type.

She would have commented on his atrocity of a suit, but he had begun to ramble on about the dish the facility served. For his usual consideration and kindness, she could forgo the comment tonight.

L'Arachel eyes the plate of food he holds out to her. His serving looked much larger than the one she had gotten for herself. Maybe the faculty thought he needed it more than she—growing boy and all.

"Why, thank you, Ephraim. I—" She cuts herself off and is almost afraid to continue. Was he really doing this in public? There were surely utensils to grab, did he not see them? "Oh. Oh, Ephraim, dear. Are you feeling alright?"

[lalumierel]

( Spaghetti and meatball ) - As much as Gray loves sweets, a man has to have some meat. He waits patiently behind a crowd of people by the table, eyes set on the tomato pasta dish. It already smelled great from where he was standing, and those giant portions of balled up meat? He'd down one in a single bite if there wasn't anyone around.

The world chose not to reward the patient this time around, however. Despite the limit of a single alcoholic beverage, some oaf falls and stumbles towards the line, sending a good handful crashing towards the food. It instantly looked like a bloody mess, curses thrown around, tomato sauce all over fine cloths, meatballs rolling all over the floor.

Gray was perfectly safe, but through the chaos he heard his stomach grumble. He stares at the lady who was given the most recent serving of spaghetti and meatballs, eyes trailing down to the plate she's holding, especially on the gigantic piece of meat at the very center, brown hues fixated on them, too full of longing...

The excitement of the ball had kept her away from the tables serving refreshments for long enough. Dancing worked up quite the appetite and the food had been began to smell irresistibly delicious. Her stomach growls, attesting to this.

L'Arachel had arrived just in time to receive a serving of the spaghetti and meatball dish when a inebriated student crashed into the remainder of the refreshment table. The princess sidesteps the splatter, narrowly avoiding a saucy mess. If the carelessness of that student had sent her to the restroom, they would have more to worry about than the scolding from the faculty. She would pray for the poor student who faces her wrath one day.

Glancing at the student on the floor being scolded by said faculty now, she scoffs and shakes her head. This was why alcohol was a dangerous game and frankly should not have been allowed at the event in the first place. Her attention was diverted by the feeling of eyes on her. Or rather her plate.

She turns her head to the stranger and raises a brow. "Sir, is there something I can help you with? It is rather rude to stare."

[lalumierel]

Mindful of their last exchange, Lorenz approaches with humility and a bow. "My Lady, I believe there has been a grievous miscommunication on my part to make you rebuke my letter. I never meant to insinuate there is a student in any way your equal. As penance, I hope you will consider my request for a dance a way of showing my sincerity through action—respect is earned, and I am dedicated to earning it in turn. I make no claim to your signature, but would be humbled all the same."

They always came crawling back. It is difficult, but she manages to suppress a smirk as she eyes Lorenz and his actions attempting to make amends. "I am glad to see you have some sense about you," she begins, "however! It would be foolish to think I forgive so easily."

She holds her hand out, waiting for him to take it and lead. Normally she would have no qualms about leading the floor and dance herself, but she wants to test how true he is to the pretty words he spews or if he has his fingers crossed behind his back.

"If you have any honor left, you will show it through the language of dance. Perhaps you will be worthy of redemption then."

[lalumierel]

[Sparkling Water] When Claude swallows his first sip of sparkling water, he nearly spits it out–it fizzes all the way down, burning his throat along the way. There's a dizzying array of syrups available, more than Claude even thought possible. Where to start? Well, he starts with the Blue Lion with a cup of bubbly water of her own. "Hey, do you know what kind of syrup goes good with this? One that makes it less, erm, bubbly. Spicy?"

What a strange contraption. L'Arachel takes another sip of her cherry flavored water, aerated with bubbles. It didn't taste like cherries at all, but neither did most of the fruit flavors. The bubbles overwhelmed her senses at first, but the more she experimented and tried different flavors, the more she was taking to it.

Her taste testing comes to a close when the House Leader of another house approaches her. "Oh, dear. Don't tell me you've been drinking it without flavor." She grimaces. "Personally, I found the fruity ones quite nice! Though there is a strange one labeled 'cola,' I can't decide if I like that one or not..."

[lalumierel]

[👗] - "A holy woman, flaunting that much leg? Why, I'd call that positively scandalous. Sacrilegious, even!" She jokes with the princess, forgoing the usual formality and titles that befitted a woman of L'Arachel's station. With the exception of a few public figures, Dorothea never had been too big on authority. "Best tread lightly, or you might lure a few people into acting unwise... me, included."

She winks, playfully blowing the other a kiss as she walks away, "Have a fun rest of the evening, beautiful!"

Whether knowingly or not, L'Arachel had a strange way of contradicting her own preaching. Showing skin was to be reserved for one's committed partner, but as of recent events, that seemed to be thrown out the window. Innes flashing her earlier was enough to send her in a panicked flurry and give extra offerings to the Goddess for fall prey to wickedness. However, not long after, she wears a dress that has cuts and slits enough to question how much cloth this woman should have to keep conservative.

It was with no intention of hers to flaunt, but why shouldn't she be allowed to wear as she pleases? It was an entirely different matter to wear something that showed off the Goddess' gift than deliberately ripping off clothes in front of others in some exhibitionist act.

She would have corrected Dorothea on this, but her words leave her silent, shocked, flustered. Enough to drive her to sin? Or was Dorothea making a confession L'Arachel was not equipped to handle? She would direct Dorothea to the church if she hadn't walked away already. She clicks her tongue and shakes her head. The princess had reason enough to believe Dorothea was some temptress or siren reincarnated. Patting her cheeks, she wanders off in another direction to find a drink.

[lalumierel]

👗 "Lady L'Arachel, that dress is absolutely exquisite!" Elincia enthused and the dress was simply breathaking. Bold in both colour and cut, it truly suited the princess's personality.

"It's lucky to have you wearing it, of course. You make it shine."

"Queen Elincia, I cannot be given all the credit. Your dress is beautiful as well, very suited to your temperament," L'Arachel gestures to the delicate flowers sewn onto the gown. To be receiving a compliment from not simply anyone, but a queen of a foreign nation was of one of her highest honors. Though, it couldn't be too surprising; it was expected for a noble such as Elincia to appreciate fine works when she sees it.

"Luck? Ha! Forgive me, but I must correct you. For it is not luck, but divine intervention that I look so nice. Only through the Goddess did I inherit my beauty and she graced the land with such gorgeous fabric and talented dressmakers."

[lalumierel]

“Princess L’arachel, the beautiful princess of peerless beauty!” In a rare occasion, it’s Rennac that approaches his former employer, but not without a sarcastic jab to her title. Rather than the terror that would instinctively ripple across his features in fright at L’arachel’s mere appearance, Rennac now dons a smirk as he brings out his card. He keeps the face down, if only to keep L'arachel from seeing the stamps he’s collected. “How many have you got?” He motions at hers.

"Rennac," she acknowledges plainly. The tone he uses has no drop of sincerity behind it, but she takes in stride. "I see you are finally acknowledging my proper title. Good to know that you do have an appreciation for beauty unparalleled to mine."

Though she cherished her employee dearly, a brow raises out of skepticism. L'Arachel was not oblivious to his complaints or grimaces in the past. She was also not foolish enough to not assume he had some scheme in the works. The princess was the one to normally call upon him, so this encounter alone has her on her guard—especially with that smirk wiped on his face.

Before she has the chance to ask what he wants, he reveals his true intentions. So he wishes to challenge her in number of stamps collected. L'Arachel was not susceptible to losses and if he had even one stamp, then her streak would be no longer. She lets out a hearty laugh, piercing the eardrums of those nearby.

"Well, Rennac, if you wanted to dance with me that much, you could have simply asked. I suppose I can spare a space on my card for a dance with you. That is, if you think you can keep up." She begins ahead of him, motioning with her hand for him to follow. Only then would he be able to stamp and see her card. "Come now, I don't like to wait."

[lalumierel]

[lalumierel]

Style: 10 Choreography: 7 Technique 5 Total: 22 

        In some standards, the male leads and the female follows in dance—size difference primarily. However, L’Arachel could only trust her partner as far as she could throw him. She wanted to win this and the only person she could grab with a sufficient dance skill was Rennac, her employee. 

        The princess was not immune to competitions, far from it, and she was determined to triumph, no matter the lengths she would drag her partner through. Literally. She marches to face their opponents, Rennac linked with her, on her will, likely not his. “Just follow my lead,” she nudges him in the side and shoots him a wink. 

        A small price to pay for a large prize. She dangled those words in front of him like a bone in front of a dog. 

        When the music begins, she takes Rennac by the hands and begins moving her feet in rapid fire motions. Meanwhile, she begins to lead, dragging the pair around the floor in... somewhat of a gallop. 

Next: @carcinac Opponents: @hungrymage & @amnesiac-pawn

[lalumierel]

【 You find yourself the recipient of a letter that could never be unassuming if it tried.

The royal purple envelope is a backdrop to gilded lettering, lovingly rendered with a steady hand. It shines when you hold it up to the light; to say nothing of the wax seal that sits heavy in a contrasting deep red. Burned into your memory is the Gloucester rose, the summertime fancy and the lovers’ flower, the signature of one noble son.

Should you choose to open this envelope, there is crisp parchment awaiting you. A practiced hand has sent you a missive, and then some. All the words legible, cursive immaculate, but aside from the flourishes, it is, as some say, a lot to unpack.

At the very top, lettering bigger than the rest, begins this invitation—ah, yes, you see now, it is an invitation—with the setting of intentions: 】

❝I, LORENZ HELLMAN GLOUCESTER, am sending you a formal invitation, extending you the distinct honor of attending the Ethereal Moon Ball as my esteemed guest…❞

【 … 】

【 You quickly realize that the letter goes on. And on. Was there ever an end in sight, or was that the twinkle of your golden name?

You will be here all night, should you read the whole spiel, so you skip to the end: 】

❝MOST SAINTLY PRINCESS:  I believe us to be kindred spirits, if you will forgive me for such a sweeping assumption from our first introduction—an introduction long overdue, a grievous error on my own part, as the days have come and gone with swift ferocity! Allow me to extend a symbol of my most revered House Gloucester, on behalf of the Leicester Alliance, as well as extend my most capable hand, should you be in need of any assistance during your time in Fódlan. Should you accept, I look forward to presenting you with the fullest extent of my grace at the Ethereal Ball.

YOURS, ❞

        At first, she is rather flattered. This Lorenz, he had quite the way with words—she knew much better than to swoon at the drop of a hat, or letter for that matter. ( The rose notes were a nice touch though. ) She reads over the letter for only the number of times she was allowed as it was quite lengthy. 

        With the parchment in one hand and a finger twirling a loose, green tendril from her head, she takes a stroll to get some idea of what to write back. How could she match the prose in a simple letter of acceptance? 

        Her gaze shifts upwards and she sees something familiar. More like several things familiar. A student here, another there, a small group gathered, all holding the infamous purple envelope with a rose wax seal. 

        Her cheeks color, but not out of flattery any longer. Was it desperation or was this so-called nobleman after as many he could check off a list? Suddenly, she knows exactly what she intends to send. 

“Dearest Lorenz,

I am most flattered to have received your letter. I must remark how exquisite your penmanship is, but I would expect no less of a noble. Your words moved me in more ways than one. I am glad to know rightfully complimenting a lady on her best qualities is your duty. 

I would have accepted your invitation with honor of being escorted by such a gentleman, if that gentleman was not so bold as to send several letters out. That is enough to be unforgiving! What exactly was your intent? 

I will have you know, I am no second, third, or thirtieth choice. As your first impression, you have shown much of your disposition which I must say leaves much to be desired. 

If you are a true and proper man, then you will apologize, not to just me, but whoever else you have mistakenly led along in your flowery writing and empty nothings! Only then will I consider granting you the honor of having a dance with me. 

Certainly not yours,

L’Aarchel ♡

[lalumierel]

        All dressed and ready for the night, L’Arachel is ready to enter. Thank the Goddess it was held inside, for the dress she had chosen wasn’t the most appropriate, current weather considered. She had brought along a shawl for accessorizing, but it left much to be desired in insulation. 

        Before entering, she was handed a card and a ring. This dress had no pockets, so that was a bit bothersome, but she’d make do. To her ears, filling out the card was a chance at competition. A small shortcoming that she could only stamp others card, she was looking forward to flaunting her flawless signature, almost as pretty as herself.

        Tucking the card elsewhere, she fixes her hair before finally entering. Let the dancing begin!

List of engagements:

[name] [stamp]

[name] [stamp]

[name] [stamp]

[name] [stamp]

[name] [stamp]

[lalumierel]

[ Ethereal Ball 2021 info post ]

ASK MEMES

Give my muse something to eat or drink…

Champagne: Imported from the western shores of the Adrestrian Empire, the school purchases 70 bottles of this stuff well in advanced for this day alone. The bartenders are under strict orders not to offer any student more than one glass.

Sparkling Water: Fresh spring water that has been magically carbonated. Served with a squeeze of lime or a dash of one of the many fruit syrups available at the bartender’s disposal.

Coffee: More specifically, a mocha brewed with Almyran coffee beans and Dagdan chocolate and served with hot milk. A sweeter variation of the drink taking Fódlan by storm.

Tea: Just what it says on the tin! The only teas offered are Mint, Bergamot, Sweet-Apple Blend, Albinean Berry Blend, and Southern Fruit Blend, wrapped in small tea bags. Clever students bring their own tea.

Water: The liquid of life, the quencher of thirst. Served in crystalline glasses. And what’s more dramatic than throwing water at someone’s face!

Spaghetti and meatball: A lovers’ portion of freshly-made spaghetti cooked in the monastery’s famous tomato sauce. The titular, singular meatball sits in the center, waiting for one lucky person to have their lover roll it to them with their nose as an offering.

Sweet Bun Trio: A selection of traditional Faerghus pastries, all small enough to be eaten in one delicious bite! The first bun is filled with sweet cream and topped with icing and a candied cherry. The second is a sweet roll filled with almonds, pecans, and dried cranberries and glazed with honey. The third is a bun sliced in half, filled with almond paste and whipped cream, dusted with powdered sugar on top.

Pomegranate: A newcomer to the Ethereal Ball’s menu, a simple bowl of pomegranate seeds. No one in the staff is quite sure how these are supposed to be served, only that you better not spit the pits out on the floor!

Mint candy: For when your breath isn’t as fresh as newly-fallen snow.

Interact with my muse…

send 💌to invite my muse to the Goddess Tower

send 👀to accidentally find my muse at the Goddess Tower

send 🏃to sneak off and explore the monastery together

send 👗to compliment my muse’s outfit

send 🚨for my muse to call the fashion police on your muse

send 👂to pass along a rumor your muse has heard about someone else

or make up your own!

Dance with my muse…

send 💃to ask my muse for a dance

send 🙇for my muse to ask yours for a dance

send 👯to teach my muse a new dance

send 😃for my muse to make your muse laugh with a silly dance

send 💫for our muses to get paired with each other in the middle of a dance

[lalumierel]

(continued from here) | @prhyst

        “I cannot say I have, but I am sure the Goddess will lend us her wisdom. It looks fairly steep, but if anything, the snow will act as a nice cushion for our fall,” she states, blindly confident. L’Arachel is strapped in gear and wiggles to face the hill. 

        She does not answer his second question, what was it, about being careful? It goes over her head in favor of sailing straight down the slope. “Last one to the bottom pays for warm drinks!” She shouts before descending.

[lalumierel]

(continued from here) | @hlidskjlf

        Round and round she goes. Her first attempt skating and she felt as though she was flying. Almost. L’Aarchel had first suggested they skate. Fast feet and bright smiles lit up the rink and she couldn’t simply stand and watch. Oh, she must tell Uncle about this. How will they create an ice rink in Rausten, she was uncertain, but she was sure it would be a hit among the people.

        She’s not so egotistic to claim she was a natural at this. She too, had her knees buckling under her and landed solidly on her rear a few times before she had grasped the hang of it. Determined to succeed, she pushed through and triumphed the ice! And she assumed the same would ring true for her partner, but this was the third lap she has passed the girl. If L’Arachel hadn’t known any better, she would say Veronica has beein in the same spot since the beginning. 

        After a cry of help—or blunt demand—the princess slows down and watches the girl stumble and slip right onto the ice. She glides back over to Veronica and is sure to stand beside her, enough to block the other skaters from impact. L’Arachel holds both her hands out and crouches a bit. 

        “Greatness always leads first, then the rest follow. Here, I can show you. It will be fun, promise!” She offers one of her signature grins and adds, “Turn that frown around or your face will become stuck like that,” though after the last time she had interacted with her, it seemed her fate was already sealed, “or worse, you will gain wrinkles.”

[lalumierel]

(continued from here) | @felemfidelem

        Banishing evil was what she was most known for, but another student wasn’t really evil, she concurs. Like most things, L’Arachel takes and bends her own rules, marches to the beat of her own drum, whatever it was to be called. This trip was meant to be laid back, so she didn’t see the harm in a little snow being tossed around and it looked like great fun watching the others do it, so why not give it a whirl? 

        When she tosses her snowball, it lands square on another student’s neck and she squeals and claps in excitement. For her first try, that was quite good! It only served as proof of her blessings, as if she needed any more. 

        L’Arachel returns a laugh of her own, much more breathy and haughty, and rests her hands on her hips. “Consider it a lesson in stealth!” Though that much was compromised by the sheer volume of her voice. 

        She leans down and scoops more snow to form another ball in preparation for attack. “Then you ought to show me how much of a challenge you pose!”

[lalumierel]

(continued from here) | @sheerloyalty

        It was unbecoming of her to partake in such a base activity. Gambling and such were not aligned with the path of holiness. To throw away what blessings the Goddess had gifted was tragic, only a show of ungratefulness. 

        And yet, here she was going against that same thought. However, it was different for her. For L’Arachel had already been through this with a swindler back home. The Goddess knew she was in the right so naturally, she blessed her after numerous games with him. Hopefully, when his luck and coin ran dry, he managed to invest some time in prayer, for he sorely needed it. 

        The same thing could be said about the student that sat across from her. Hana, was it? Her features were soft and delicate, but her eyes and words held a passionate flame behind them; something L’Arachel could admire. It was only a matter of time though, that she should once again, teach others a lesson in divine favor.

        “Favors, hm?” She taps her chin, before nodding affirmatively. “Alright, that is acceptable and honorable, more so than owing money.” 

        L’Arachel looks at her own cards, humming as her finger hovers over the hand she was dealt. Glancing back at the card set down, she plucks a card with a triumphant ‘aha’ and sets it down the same way Hana does. 

        “Yes, let’s. Then, we shall see who the Goddess favors more.”

[lalumierel]

(continued from here) | @freliaes

        “You dare call me mad? You easily forget that it was you who flung off your pants upon entry! Do you do that with all the ladies in your life?” She began to earn stares from passerby. If she was not careful, a closer look might paint the wrong impression on her. 

        Uncle, no, Goddess, pray forgive me. I have not perceived anything born from my own desire. She clasps her hands in prayer. Surely this was some test of faith, temptation to drive one to act...unwise, but her resolve was stronger than that. 

        She slowly turns around, hands over her eyes just in case it was unsafe. Seeing he was now decent, if only marginally, she uncovers her eyes, breathing a sigh of relief. Indignation crosses her face within a moment’s notice and she crosses her arms. One hand gestures to the mess now on the floor. “Well, I think it rather obvious what my intentions were before you decided to be so... indecent in front of a lady no less!” 

        Silence ensues on her end as her eyes flicker to the side. To be put in such an awkward position with someone she saw as an acquaintance at best—not quite equal, especially after today’s escapade. Still, she is desperate to fill in the silence somehow so they may return to normalcy. 

        “The mountains here are simply breathtaking.” L’Arachel bends to gather a partial of the equipment. “Now, if you think yourself capable of controlling yourself, you may meet me atop the mountain and we shall have a fair competition.”