making-dough

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♠ - She hadn't expect a single joke to go quite this far. It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment comment based on their most famous trait during their last encounter, after all.

And especially not all the way to the kitchens asking after crackers. "Um...", she began awkwardly, scratching lightly at the back of her head. "Better bring him a tin full. He's got a, um, limited vocabulary?" Well, she'd already explained his situation beforehand so hardly worth repeating.

The cooks stared at one another before one of them shrugged, dug into the cabinets and produced a small tin of biscuits that they then passed over towards Denning.

Farina shot a glance over in Denning's direction as the gift was offered. Do they even know what to do with it? Do Morphs even eat? Come to think of it, she's never actually been sure about that. They're more like these zombie things, right? Do they even need to eat?

Oh, well. Shrugging her own shoulders, Farina then raised an arm up into the air as if making her own order. "Oh, and gimme some cheeses, thanks! The bitier the better." Well, why not? She'd come all this way. Why not pick up something of her own?

♠ - Well, one thing this one’s got for them. They’re got a beautiful voice. Real pretty, like a birdsong. Like, uh, she’s not the best at describing poetry stuff but even she could tell their voice was beautiful. Even when he was just using it to pronounce her name. Very very slowly. Well, it was a start, anyway? “Yep. Me. Farina.”, she declared, slapping a hand against her own chest. “Nice to meet ya!” Well, that was the introductions done. The next step was to figure out how he interpreted that and that nod was an answer by itself. The kitchens, it was! “Well, alright then.”, she laughed. “Let’s get down to the kitchens and get you those crackers!” But before that, she may as well warn the kitchen staff first. “Wait right here.”, she told Denning as they approached the kitchen doors. “I’m, uh, just gonna have a chat with the kitchen staff first. Be right back!”

And with that, she simply shoved open the kitchen doors and grabbed the attention of the one of the chefs in charge.

“Professor Farina! What a surprise! Is there anything we can help you for?”

“Right, about that…”, she began, tugging at her earlobe awkwardly. “I’ve got this…uh…” How to describe Denning exactly. She kinda got his situation but them being a sorta soul-eating zombie still kinda freaked her out. She was just putting that aside for the time being. “A ‘friend’. He’s sorta unique. And it’s not really their fault. He was just never taught how to speak properly…I guess.” That was her best guess as to how he ended up this way, she assumes. Even pronoun'ing them was turning out to be a little tricky. “So, he’s gonna be a little strange. Don’t mind them too much. Is that alright?”, she decided to finish. A series of awkward nods soon filled the faces of the kitchen staff. Fair enough. That was probably how she’d react to something like this happening, anyway.

“Alright, Denning! You can come in now!”, she turned to shout at the kitchen doors, loud enough that she was pretty sure they could hear. Huh, who knew a simple joke got them this far already? Now…it was just anyone’s guess whether that Morph could get himself understood.

[making-dough]

♠ - In fairness, there wasn't that much they could do right now aside from waiting for Gregory to wake up. She was pretty sure Pelleas had wanted to apologise for laying him flat with an explosion but she was just as sure Gregory would understand, anyway. It was an impressive enough blast, even if she was just there to see the crater.

"Yeah, you probably should but first, chill. It'd do no one much good if ya end up fumbling your way through the apology." Well, that was her stated goal behind taking Pelleas out for drinks. The guy still seemed a bit uptight. Stammering his way through an apology probably wouldn't be the best way in handling things. Well, that and she had some time to kill before she went back to 'hunting' students.

"Don't worry. They'll call you when he wakes up." Or Gregory could come looking for Pelleas himself. Whichever happened first. They'll decide on Pelleas' punishment then, if any. To be honest, she suspects he's been 'punishing' himself more than enough for an accident like this.

"Wahahaha! Think nothin' of it. C'mon then! The break tent's this way.", Farina laughed out, waving Pelleas onwards to follow her. She could keep him company up until Gregory wakes up. He could probably use the company, anyway.

How to deal with a Panicking Mage - Farina and Pelleas

[making-dough]

♠ - She'd heard a saying before. Never work with children or animals. Granted, that was from the head of a theatre company and not really applicable to pegasus knight-ing but the idea of it remained. They'll do the thing you least want them to do at the time you least want them to do it.

And that included biting the neck that fed them, apparently. Well, it wasn't like she was hurt or anything. Just..uh, sore at worst? Farina paused for a moment to twist her shoulder a little and try to shrug off the soreness around her neck. No harm done. She'd been used to dealing with worse from Murphy, anyway.

But, if she'd seemed a bit slower in passing along the vegetables to the pegasus, well, she can't really call herself that magnanimous, can she. "Something more exciting?", she mumbled for a moment, processing her older sister's question. To be honest, a good part of why she'd even come so far in taking this job was the promise of safety - in getting away from the more exciting parts of her career path. There was a potential end goal in merc'ing she was smelling in her not-so-distant future and she didn't like it one bit. Even a world of money did no one any good if you're too dead to enjoy it, after all. "Well, there's the big school-wide thingies that happens around here every so often. You'd hear about 'em soon enough.", Farina shrugged, passing along a cabbage leaf to the pegasus as slowly as possible. That ought to be exciting enough, she'd figured.

What was bothering her more was the other half of her big sister's question. 'You can tell me anything, you know.' Funny, that. "I can say the same right back. You've always been terrible at letting things go, sis."

...

Farina paused mid-motion in passing the cabbage leaf. "Uh, did I say that out loud?", she suddenly blurted out. No, no, no, no. Down that road lay one of her usual rows with her big sis and that was just about the last thing she'd really needed right now.

And Maybe Overcompensate

continued

[making-dough]

🎄

'tis the season

♠ - Alright, so she'd completely lost her cool back there. Which was completely off for her. It wasn't like she was some blushing maiden, giving away her first kiss, or anything. Yet, for some reason, she was caught so completely off-guard by that last lordling she'd encountered she'd ended dissolving into embarrassed babbling.

It was embarrassing just to think of it. Which was why she had to take a moment to swallow back her nerves and calm herself upon seeing the green-haired noblewoman standing under yet another sprig of mistletoe. This one isn't gonna throw her off with something else unexpected, right?

Yeah, not this time. She was gonna strike first while the iron was hot! Closing the distance quickly, she dipped the noblewoman down low in a single sweeping motion and quickly pressed her own lips to hers.

Alright, so she might have been overdoing it a bit. It's not like she really needed to dip into one of those fancy ball displays, after all. It just kinda felt appropriate for the time...which was sorta a weird thing to admit, even to herself.

The dip was only for a moment. Just as quickly as she'd swept the lady down, did Farina pull her back and offered her a teasing wink and her usual trademark cheeky grin.

"'Sup! Was that what you'd been expecting?", the mercenary laughed out. Well, uh, overcompensating was one thing but she couldn't really say she didn't enjoy it.

[making-dough]

🎄 what if I sent one back to you

sequel to this

'tis the season

♠ - Ah, mistletoe season. The proper time to be embarrassing much-too-uptight bluehair lordlings everywhere. Like, what's worst he could do? A kiss on the hand? A peck on the cheek? Face it, these bluehairs were far too 'gentlemanly' and uptight to do anything more serious than that. Claims it wouldn't be 'chivalrous', most likely. This 'Alfonse' was most likely going to be much the same in that department.

"Nope.", the mercenary answered simply, waggling her eyebrows suggestively as if daring him on. She did way too much work setting something like this up to really just let him go. "Neither of us are getting outta here with some kinda smooch." She lifted her arm a little as if offering her hand for Alfonse to kiss....

And then the man leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Just for a moment. But it was unmistakably a kiss. To the lips. Kinda a bit stiff, relatively speaking, but she could feel at least some feelings behind it. She could feel her cheeks burning just from contact.

....

....Okay, that was unexpected. Really didn't think he'd even had it in him. Alright, uh, what happens next? Um, errr...

"I'm gonna have kids.", her mouth blurted out before her brain could properly recover and catch up. Her cheeks grew even redder, if that was possible. Wait, what was she even saying? That sounded more like the kind of nonsense she tried to fill Florina's head with. How in the world was that kind of sickeningly innocent nonsense like that coming out of her lips? "Um, er, by which I mean not really.", she rapidly back-pedaled, her lips babbling at a mile a minute. "That's not it works. Just, uhhh, didn't expect things happenin' like this." Her hands waved and pointed seemingly at random as she continued to slowly back away and babble as though some switch got flipped and she simply could stop. "But, well, errr, doesn't it feel kinda bad if we let this go on? I'm sure you've got, errr, places to go, things to do. Really shouldn't be takin' up that much of your time so, umm, bye!"

She took off before he could properly say much in return. Phew! That was a close one. It was for just a brief moment but she could swear she could feel the passion behind that one kiss. Alright, one thing's for sure. There's no way she's gonna underestimate him. Alfonse. She'll have to remember that name.

[making-dough]

Wanted Plots - December

I keep forgetting to actually do these for some reason so declaring interest in some of these plots. As always, IM me here or tag me on #plotting if interested.

Brodia prompt:

I think Farina would love to see how Brodians prepare for winter. Do they gather around a campfire and sing songs? How much do they bundle up by?

She might want to poke around one of those fire orbs and see if she can figure out how it works. Might come in handy back home in Ilia.

I can see her joining in on one of those exercise challenges. Might even just be a simple jog just to keep things simple but she's game if things get wilder, ahahaha~.

mission board

Swap tournament (requesting someone who's not another flying mount rider) - I think it'd be pretty fun for Farina to figure out how to counter her own tactics. Even if it will end up with her effectively improvising from lack of familiarity with her new weapon, ahahahah~

Magic archway - She's going to stick her arm into that thing just to see where it goes. Come and stop her if you can, ahahaha~.

Lance point - Are you seriously trying to bribe a teacher? She'll respect the guts and I can see her giving those answers if you can pay her well enough...provided you can take her immediately changing the entire test and seeing if you can adjust on the fly.

[making-dough]

‘TIS THE SEASON.

send 🎄for our muses to get caught under the mistletoe !!

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♠ - She didn't usually drop in on one of her co-workers' seminars - she didn't really have that much free time for it, for starters. But this, on the other hand, was a lot more intriguing. A traveling merchant here to talk about, uh, topics of his interest. Well, at best, she'd better drop in and hear what he's got to say. She's sorta free now so may as well just quietly enter and lean on the upper balconies and hear him out.

However, instead of what he was planning on speaking, she'd heard whispers from the students about vulneraries costing 10 times their usual price and pretending it's normal. She placed her head in her hands just as the blue-haired lecturer started to change his lesson plans. Not that she could really blame him. Naivete on that level was no different than idiocy.

She slammed her hands on the balcony railings just as the lecturer finished his introduction. "Hear, hear!", she shouted, directed a glare at the curious students turning back around to look at her. "Listen to you lot! I know what you're like! 'Mummy and Daddy are paying for my bills so I don't need to pay a thing.'", she mocked with a false falsetto. "Well, guess what? Your money doesn't grow on trees. And here you lot are talking about how normal it is to fall for the simplest of scams! I'm embarrassed just listening to you lot."

Speaking of embarrassment, she directed her gaze back at the lecturer standing in front of the room and laughed weakly, reaching a hand up to scratch at the back of her neck. It was probably a faux pas to interrupt someone else's lecture. "Ah, sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt. It's kinda just a touchy topic. Go on. I can be quiet here."

A Banana Does Not Cost 10 Dollars, Please Do Not Buy a Banana for 10 Dollars

Open Starter | Seminar for Noble Students on Economics

[making-dough]

𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 𝐯𝐨𝐥.𝟐.

a collection of words to describe the strangeness of being human, continued.

✦ aesthosis: the state of feeling trapped inside your own subjective tastes—not knowing why you find certain things beautiful or ugly, only that you do.

✦ anoscetia: the anxiety of not knowing “the real you”.

✦ chrysalism: the amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm.

✦ elsewise: to be struck by the poignant strangeness of other people’s homes, which smell and feel different from your own.

✦ exulansis: the tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people are unable to relate to it, which allows it to drift away from the rest of your story until it feels out of place.

✦ fata organa: a flash of real emotion glimpsed in someone sitting across the room, as if you could see backstage through a gap in the curtains.

✦ flichtish: to be nervously aware how much of your self-image is based on untested assumptions about yourself.

✦ funkenzwangsvorstellung: the primal trance of watching a campfire in the dark.

✦ ghough: a state of panic that everything good will be taken from you too early, which makes you want to swallow the world before it ends up swallowing you.

✦ hiddled: feeling the loneliness of having to keep a secret to yourself.

✦ jouska: a hypothetical conversation that you compulsively play out in your head.

✦ koinophobia: the fear that you’ve lived an ordinary life.

✦ loss of backing: an abrupt collapse of trust in yourself, which makes it that much harder to guarantee that your word is worth anything, even to yourself.

✦ mahpiohanzia: the frustration of being unable to fly.

✦ malotype: a certain person who embodies all the things you like the least about yourself, which leaves you feeling repulsed and fascinated in equal measure.

✦ maru mori: the heartbreaking simplicity of ordinary things.

✦ midding: the tranquil pleasure of being near a gathering but not quite in it, feeling blissfully invisible yet still fully included.

✦ nementia: the post-distraction effort to recall the reason you‘re feeling particularly anxious or angry or excited, trying to retrace your sequence of thoughts like a kid gathering the string of a downed kite.

✦ occhiolism: the awareness of how fundamentally limited your senses are.

✦ ochisia: the fear that the role you once occupied in someone’s life could be refilled without a second thought.

✦ onism: the awareness of how little of the world you’ll experience.

✦ querinous: the longing for a sense of certainty in a relationship.

✦ rückkehrunruhe: the feeling of returning from an immersive trip only to notice it fading rapidly from your awareness, as if your brain had automatically assumed it was all just a dream.

✦ sayfish: a sincere emotion that seems to wither into mush as soon as you try to put it into words.

✦ solysium: the unhinged delirium of being alone for an extended period of time.

✦ tarrion: an odd interval of blankness felt after something big happens to you but before you feel the resulting emotional reaction.

✦ the kick drop: the moment you wake up from an immersive dream and have to abruptly recalibrate to the real world—unquitting your job, falling right back out of love, reburying your lost loved ones.

✦ the standard blues: the dispiriting awareness that the twists and turns of your life feel new and profound but are not unique, which makes even your toughest challenges feel harmless and predictable, just another remake of the same old story.

✦ the wends: the frustration that you’re not enjoying an experience as much as you should.

✦ vaucasy: the fear that you’re little more than a product of your circumstances.

✦ vicarous: being curious to know what someone else would do if they were in your shoes, eager to watch another actor put their own spin on the character that is You.

✦ watashiato: curiosity about the impact you’ve had on the lives of the people you know, wondering which of your harmless actions or long-forgotten words might have altered the plot of their stories in ways you’ll never get to see.

✦ wellium: an excuse you come up with to rationalize a disappointing outcome.

✦ wildred: feeling the haunting solitude of extremely remote places, which makes you feel like you’ve just intruded on a conversation that had nothing to do with you.

✦ zielschmerz: the dread of finally pursuing a lifelong dream.

[making-dough]

[May+June+July+August+September+October Activity Check]

Status: Failed May, Passed June (+1 SP), Passed July (+1 SP), Passed August (+1 SP), Hiatus September, Passed October (+1 SP)

Threads: How to deal with a panicking mage (with Pelleas, season recovery, +sword), Gilded Arena (with Leif, season succession, +brawl)

Event: Summer Arena 2024 (+1 SP), Atgeir Total: 61 -> 68

[making-dough]

Even on a beach island vacation, Camilla would find a way to keep her title of “juice lady.” Where she found the supplies, for both non alcoholic and alcoholic drinks, or the cart she managed to hitch to Barbie to drag everything along with her was unimportant. It was juice time. 

“Here dear! Stay cute and cool!”🍹

♠ - She's learnt not to question just where exactly Camilla kept on finding all those juice boxes. Or keeping them for that matter. There were some things that probably shouldn't have answers. It didn't matter that much anyway and life did get a little boring if everything had answers. It served for a nice distraction from all those activities, anyway.

Farina grabbed the offered juice box and drained it in one gulp and finally exclaiming with a satisfied-sounding gasp. "Can't beat some good ol' ale but it'll do. Thanks for the refresher!" She gave Camilla a short quick wink and a friendly grin before she moved on. Something to express her appreciation anyway. Now then, what was next?

[making-dough]

♠ - Something was wrong.

Fiora was agreeing a little too readily. No 'You're overthinking things, Farina'? No 'I'm sure those merchants had their own reasons, Farina'? Farina raised a concerned eyebrow and slowly turned around to face Fiora in the eyes, a confused expression on her face. Was it just her imagination or was her big sis looking a bit sadder than usual? Then again, Fi had always looked kinda sad. Especially around that trip to the Dread Isle.

Don't tell her that her grumblings were real? That her big sister had had another tragedy happen. That's just...the worst, ain't it? First, that debt (which was still her fault, by the way), then whatever happened around Valor and now probably whatever this was. Did some jerk jinx Fi when she wasn't looking? Whoever that was, that had sounded like a prime target for some quick lancing.

Well, she knows better than to ask, anyway. No need to open up wounds unnecessarily. For now, she'll just take the 'I missed you too' as it was intended. No need for her own issues to drive a wedge. Not right now. Not after so long apart.

"I know, right? I'm telling ya now. There's no amount of smithing techniques that could justify that kinda pri-Ach! Eh, Huxley?", Her ramblings were quickly cut off by a pegasus biting the back of her shirt and roughly tugging her back. A reminder of sorts that there were still hungry pegasi waiting for her. "Fine.", Farina grumbled, scrunching up her face into an unamused scowl and passed the pegasus a fresh carrot. "We'll save that for later, I guess..." For now, she was more than happy to just be around for her big sister again. Just like old times.

And Maybe Overcompensate

continued

[making-dough]

♠ - There were a series of odd glances between the nurses and Farina listening to Pelleas' story before a nurse, sitting by Gregory's bedside and just having finished a scan of the injured instructor, spoke up. "Well, this does look like it was an accident. And none of Gregory's injuries seemed particularly serious or life-threatening.", she offered Pelleas a warm, reassuring smile. "So, no, I don't think putting you in confinement is at all necessary."

"Yeah, it's, like, uh, whatchamacallit, shit happens.", Farina muttered from where she was sitting sprawled on the ground, casually ignoring the nurses' glares at in her direction. "You head out there, swingin' sticks around. You gonna need ta expect someone to start swingin' back." There was a brief pause and a odd wiggle of her lips as though she'd just thought of something unimaginably funny. "It'll be down to Greg and what he thinks. Well, uhhh, when he wakes up, anyway."

Almost as though he'd picked exactly that right moment to wake, Gregory let out a low groan on the bed and shifted slightly in the bed, promptly another round of readings from the nurses nearby. Farina paused for a moment to stare in Gregory's direction before realizing he wasn't quite waking up yet and sighed. "Well, I guess that's a good sign. At least, he ain't dead."

That seemed the final straw for another of the nurses nearby, who promptly huffed out a "Right. The first thing the patient needs here is rest. We appreciate the promptness in bringing him here but this is hardly the place for conversation. Out!" There was a particularly pointed poke at Farina with her boot, who seemed to have gotten the point and stood up quickly.

"Yeah, you can say sorry to Greg when he wakes up but, uhhh, any thoughts on plans in the mean time?", Farina asked Pelleas as she hurriedly made her way out of the nurses' tent. "Pretty sure we've set up a drinks tents and some fun nearby. Just in case someone bows out early." There was an friendly wink and a grin from the mercenary. "I ain't in a hurry to be heading back out there any time soon. Could keep ya company." She could really use some refreshment herself. Especially after having carried Greg all this way!

How to deal with a Panicking Mage - Farina and Pelleas

[making-dough]

"A moment of your time!" Emcee catches up to you before you can disperse to your room or rejoin with your teammates, or wherever else it is you're heading off to.

"This way, this way." The strange host ushers you into a small shack, curtained off from the outside. They offer you a chair and a bright lamp hangs overhead.

"Now then," they start, positioning themselves across from you. "What do you think of the upcoming games this week? Do any stand out to you as being advantageous to your team?"

In their hand is a voice amplifying stick, which they hold out to you now.

♠ - Okay, she's got a bit of a sleeping in problem but who doesn't have a few flaws every now and then? Besides, a girl needs her beauty sleep. And privately, she blamed those crickets from last night.

Anyway, she was running late as it was. The absolute last thing she needed was to deal with an emcee asking her questions she doesn't have the answers to yet. "Uhh, dunno. Haven't seen the next round's games just yet. I, uh, I tend to wing it."

She heard the loud clangs of a nearby clock seeming to toll out the tolls of doom and yelped. If she didn't rush it, she was going to miss the sign-ups. "Ah, No time for this. I'm late! I'm late!", she shouted, breaking into a desperate sprint...and cheekily placing a slice of barely buttered bread into her mouth. Her breakfast, if you could call it that.

Wait, hold on. Was she tripping into some cliche she was only barely aware of just yet?

[making-dough]

She is still feeling slightly spiteful of the whole ordeal. Not that the WHOLE rat team deserves this, but who is she to pick and choose who gets crickets and who doesn't? So, in the dead of night, Anselma has left a lovely gift—a box of crickets. Enjoy the song of their people! Watch as they hop around you! Fear them!

♠ - The chirping was getting louder and louder and more out-of-control. What was that? It sounded like crickets. Why were there crickets in their hotel room? What kind of insane torture was this, anyway? Some kind of bizarre experiment to see what lengths of torture they could withstand?

And their chirping was getting louder and louder. CHIRRPPP! CHIRRRPPP! CHIRRRPPP! Groggily, Farina staggered her way out of bed and stumbled to the door. That was where it had sounded the loudest. She opened the door and spotted the cursed, blasted source of the commotion. A humble-looking box.

Barely holding back a howl of outrage, she picked up the box, dashed all the way to the other side to the side and opted to throw the entire box out the window. "SHUT THE CRAP UP! PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP HERE!" Granted, she still hadn't fixed the issues of who left the box or whether or not the crickets will annoy someone else but, by that point, it was no longer her problem. She let out a HARRUMPH with barely concealed contempt and staggered her way back to bed. She's got a busy day tomorrow, after all.

[making-dough]

♠ - Well, debate over possibly non-existent spy devices aside, they did really need to go sleep on the beach when there were perfectly usable beds available. Well, there were. The mercenary shot another glare at the tattooed furniture-wrecker and sighed. "Might as well. It's not like we could make any more wrecked." Actually, there were probably plenty of ways to make them more wrecked. She just didn't need to give Mr. Home-wrecker here even more ideas. Stopping for a moment at the mattress with the stuffing coming out of the middle, she paused to glare reproachfully at it for a moment and then opted to simply pick it up and flip it over.

Jumping onto the now mostly-appeared-fixed mattress, she bounced on it happily for a few moments and then grinned at her roommates. "Well, what kinda fun are we plannin', anyway?"

She's still got her suspicions on this place but why not take advantage of it while it's there?

@twistedisciple

Idle Hands

Happyland 2024 | Team Rat Room C

[making-dough]

♠ - As soon as the race was over, the next contest began. Surround themselves around a spinning pole and see how long they could last against it banging around and around.

And just as soon as the blonde got knocked back into the water was it her turn around the pole. It spun once....

1d20 -> 1; Miss!

Which she'd quickly jumped over like it was easy. Then came the next spin.

1d20 -> 6; Hit! -4HP

THWACK! Okay, that stung but she could handle it.

1d20 -> 19; Crit! -8HP OUT!

And then the next swing smacked her right across the chest and right into the water. Welp, can't win them all~!

KaBOOM. KaBOOM. SPLOOSH.

West Island Gauntlet Group 4