nabataprophet

[nabataprophet]

It makes sense, if you really sit and think on it for a bit. The way a horse carries its weight is different from the way a human does, just in the same way a dog carries its weight differently than a bird does. There is also more weight in general to contend with, constantly pressing down on already delicate bones. Enough weigh and pressure and what might have started as a fracture will progress to a full break, completely decimating any chance of recovery.

To think that even a creature of war can be so fragile at the end of the day is a strange thought.

Heart still full of trepidation, Sophia copies Randal's motions, running her hands over the horse's velvety muzzle. She hopes the gentle repetitive action conveys that what the horse is worried about won't happen. The hot puffs of air coming from her flared nostrils eventually lessens in intensity until there are only occasional huffs of irritation from the pain.

As she continues to stroke the horse's muzzle, she murmurs, "I can do... a little first aid, but... I probably can't... fix a caved skull. So, um... please try not... to get kicked."

Much easier said than done.

just like you didn't try to put me down like a lame horse for being a devil (i wasn't) i need you to help me not put down my horse (not lame yet but will be if we aren't quick)

distress. + riding.

[nabataprophet]

@finalfullmoon sent:

"... ... ...Juli--" No. It isn't her. Whatever this thing was, it wasn't her. Clicking his tongue, he could tell from her energy that this thing was not even close to the threat born from the same womb as he. "...My apologies."

People liked when you apologized, didn't they?

"You remind me of someone."

The light of recognition in this stranger's eyes fades just as quickly as it arrives, dying out like a spark that had failed to start a fire.

"Juli...?" She repeats, cocking her head at the unfamiliar name. "Um, I'm sorry... I don't know... who that is."

Had she ever come across someone with a name like that in her limited interactions with others? No, she surely would remember someone that could reasonably be mistaken for herself. But perhaps she is also at fault for seeing a flash of red hair and halting in her tracks.

Even though they don't look the slightest bit similar beyond that one little detail.

"My name... is Sophia. I hope you find the person... you were looking for."

[nabataprophet]

"Yes... every living being with a heart... has wants and desires," Sophia says. "So I don't think... there's anything wrong... with desiring things."

A person without wants is a person with no drive to survive, floating through life with only the whims of others to guide them. Even then, those aren't really their own desires, their own heart eclipsed by others.

"I... have a friend." Sophia thinks they're friends, at least. But maybe she doesn't feel the same way, if she feels anything for her at all. "She doesn't have any desires... and might never have one. Her heart... must realize it's missing something, because it's very sad."

If she were here, maybe she would release a lantern of her own if guided by another's hand.

"So... I won't blame you... no matter how many wishes you have."

romancing cruise

         ⤷   ethereal ball 2025:  first half.

[nabataprophet]

may activity check

x

status: passed

skill points gained: 1 (41)

may activity check: any +1 | flying e+ > d

claims:

zzzzzzzzzz

[nabataprophet]

[ SLEEP TIGHT ]　/　he hadn't even thought about sleeping arrangements at all. truth was, even if he didn't sleep the whole night, he'd be fine! so why take the space from someone else who needed it? but then someone pointed out that eventually he'd probably want to stake out a spot for himself just to spend the night in, even if he didn't need to sleep——which made sense. anyway, they wouldn't be able to head back to the academy at least until the next day, and he wasn't sure he could afford to pay for an inn right now either.

figures, all the bedrooms were taken hours ago by the thinker-aheaders, and most of the comfortable sofas too. eventually, he manages to find an older armchair that's still vacant, but as soon as he steps up to it, he sees another girl moving toward it too, and she looks so small and quiet that he feels instantly bad taking a sleeping spot from her.

is it back to square one for him again. . . ?

well, actually, the armchair's pretty big, so maybe across the top. . . "hey, were you thinking of staking out here for the night?" he approaches anyway, doing his best to look as friendly as possible——smile, on ; peppy sway, go ; upbeat tone, activated. "if that's the case. . . you're only planning on using the seat, right? so would you mind if i used the top of the armchair, like on top of the back? i promise not to move around much."

"oh, i know. here, i'll even throw this in for good measure." he holds out a starfish charm of his own, free for the taking. surely she couldn't say no to that, right?

Unlike when the ball had been hosted at the monastery, where everyone could simply return to their rooms after the events of the night are over, everyone must secure their own lodgings for the night. This wouldn't be that hard of a task, where it not for the storm preventing anyone from safely venturing too far. Their host hadn't expected so many people to be left without lodgings, so it makes sense that there are only a limited number of rooms prepared for immediate use.

Those who do not manage to snag a room are doomed to wander the hallways, looking at the staff members who scurry by with sopping wet expressions.

Just when Sophia thinks she has found the one last remaining spot to sleep, someone else appears to have gotten the same idea.

"On... top...?" Sophia repeats dubiously. "On top of... the chair...?"

She glances at the chair again, hoping in vain that it will be larger than it was when she looked at it only moments ago. It isn't. Even if a person were to curl up on top like a cat, wouldn't it still be pretty cramped? Then there's the concern of having to hold your balance in that position until morning, too.

If he were Fae's size, maybe they could squeeze both of them on the seat comfortably, but with their heights, they would need to contort around the other for any chance of both fitting. It is unlikely they would be able to fall asleep like that.

If she as the shorter one here offers to take the top of the chair instead... but no, that's no good either. If she were to accidentally shift her head, she would accidentally send a cascade of (still pretty damp) hair down on this poor stranger in his sleep. If he were to panic at the sensation and try to escape, he would probably take her down with him and then neither of them would get any sleep.

This... is a conundrum.

One long and silent emotional journey later, shown only by the way she keeps looking back and forth between this stranger and the chair, Sophia nods her head. She unhooks one of her own charms to offer in exchange.

"...Okay."

[nabataprophet]

[ COFFEE ]

-- IT'S NOT THAT HORTENSIA isn't a tea person, but it's almost too on-the-tin for her. Princesses and royalty are generally the image of delicate cleanliness, of tea parties and floral scents, particularly when one is of floral names. But coffee had a mellow bitterness to it that she enjoyed far more when it came time for an afternoon snack, more comforting to her than the typical fruity hints a cup of tea tended to provide.

All that, and, ah. She had a bit of a sweet tooth. And it'd seem rather odd of her to go up to the coffee station and only stack her plate up with chocolates. But, as it turned out- in her eagerness, she had landed herself into a bit of a predicament.

"I took too much," she says to the purple-haired person besides her, fanning herself with a spare hand. "Wehh... a princess needs to watch her figure, y'know? But a princess also can't be seen wasting food. So it's a conundrum. However!"

She plucks one of the carefully wrapped chocolates up between her fingers, handing it over to the girl. "If I look like I'm sharing... then that's a win-win! If that's not enough, uhm- you can take this too, okay?" She quickly procures one of her pearl charms and holds it besides the offered chocolate. "See! No reason to refuse, right?"

An awfully convoluted way to give someone some chocolate, but, ah well.

At a party like this, it should be no surprise to be approached, but Sophia still jumps a little at being approached so suddenly. The surprise goes further when the girl effortlessly and nonchalantly reveals herself as a princess.

Compared to the composed and somewhat somber way Princess Guinevere carried herself, this girl is much more energetic, liveliness present in even the smallest of her actions. The way she has dressed herself, too, stands out even at a party where everyone has clothed themselves in their best outfits with that little heart drawn on her cheek.

"Chocolate...?" Despite her questioning tone in her voice and the tilt of her head, she accepts both candy and charm. In exchange, a turtle charm is pressed gently into the other girl's hands. "If it helps, then... thank you."

Rather than looking like she's sharing, aren't they just sharing? Still, she seems rather proud of the solution she'd come up with, so maybe Sophia will just keep that thought to herself.

"But I, um, think... you look cute as you are, Princess...?"

[nabataprophet]

[ GARDEN ] - Sara's speciality is the present. She lives in moments as they happen to her and tilts the picture frame to view it at different angles in order to gain understanding. Meanwhile, Sophia pauses nearly as much as she speaks, waits in place to witness what Sara walks by. Sometimes when they stand beside one another, Sara senses Sophia doesn't see the same sights. People seldom share a vision, but she wants her perspective.

"What flowers do you like best? Do you have a favorite?" Lavender inclines to the colorful plant life on display, all kinds as far as the eye can see. Surely Sophia can declare a choice that simple.

Everyone has preferences or should. Everyone deserves a voice. The world is a broad place that Sara herself still cannot help marveling at, treading countless paths once kept from her.

"I do, and I'll only tell you if you tell me the truth."

The rain has not lessened any, but here in the closed off space of this glass house, it's as if the rain does not exist at all beyond the humidity that clings to the skin like a specter of the world outdoors and the sound of rain hitting the glass panes. Where the air outside has cooled off with the night and the storm, it is still warm in this place alone.

Here, a bystander might see two lavender haired girls gathered and get the feeling that at this moment in time, the space is not just disconnected from the outdoors, but reality itself. By all means, the conversation the two girls are having is a completely ordinary one, but there is just something subtly off about it.

Or maybe this is just what naturally happens when two people who are out of step with others are in the same place.

"My... favorite...?" Sophia repeats uncertainly.

It's a tall ask to be told to choose her favorite out of such an extravagant greenhouse. She could probably be here until the night is over and raindrops have stopped pitter-pattering on the glass panes and still have not seen all of the flowers the Viscount has gathered here. Small flowers, large flowers, beautiful flowers, strange looking flowers, carnivorous flowers—there's a flower for each and every type of person.

A more obstinate person might complain that such a question is unfair. How could they possibly choose a favorite when inundated with so many choices? Does one go in already knowing their favorite? Choosing on sight? What if there's a flower you actually like more deeper in? If you find a new favorite later, can you really consider your current favorite to truly be your favorite?

"Um, these... are not exactly the same, but..." Sophia gestures to unassuming blooms tucked away in a corner: colorful in their own right, but not enough to stand out amongst the more extravagant varieties. They're desert flowers, so they have to be sequestered away from all of the tropical varieties in different soil. "My friend likes to put them in my hair... so I like them."

[nabataprophet]

[ LANTERNS ]

Coming up with an idea to write down was harder than she expected. Yunaka bounced the pencil against her thigh as she frowned down at the paper. She'd spent a lot of time wishing as a kid, and it never did anything for her. When it comes to wishing now, she can't think of a single thing worth wishing for. She doesn't want to be a bad example for her students, though, so she needs to come up with something.

Turning to Sophia next to her, Yunaka leans over a little, as if she's trying to take a peek at her piece of paper. She doesn't, though, looking instead at her student and her really cute twist on her hair. "Watcha wishing for?" She asks. She's genuinely curious, but wouldn't be surprised either if she wanted to keep it to herself.

Wishes are an odd thing. There were some things that Sophia wished for that she already knew would come to pass, because she had seen them in blurry visions. There were other things she sometimes wished for that would never come to pass, no matter how hard she wished.

She would never be able to change the past. She would never be able to live as long as Fae. She would always outlive the rest of her friends.

But on the other hand, when she was younger, she would have never imagined being able to see the outside world like this. She, too, had quietly desired to see the sea one day even knowing that the outside world was not a safe place. Just a few short years ago, she never would have gotten permission to stand by a distant shore and release wishes out into the sea.

So having wishes is a good thing, she thinks.

In lieu of answering aloud, Sophia holds out the paper so Yunaka can see it better.

[ I hope the world Lord Roy wished for comes to exist. ]

[nabataprophet]

Only a little time has passed, and Sin feels well enough to at least do some rounds around the estate. And it isn't as if patrol on foot is impossible or even necessarily uncomfortable, but doing it on the back of a horse is simply far more preferable. It's impossible now, though, so he'll do as he must with what he has.

He does end up running into someone vaguely familiar, though she isn't exactly hard to pick out of a crowd — Sophia, that's the name he connects to her. A girl (allegedly?) from Nabata from what he recalls, though admittedly Sin had been too busy beating sand out of his clothing to give much mind to events there.

...It's nice to see someone familiar so far from Elibe, at least.

He's gotten deft with these charms, too, pulling one off the string 'round his neck just as quickly as it takes him to properly approach Sophia.

"...Well met."

Sin rolls the pearl in his palm a little, letting it gently clink against the ring on his thumb as he offers it to her.

"...Do you want this?"

There is a limited pool of people that Sophia knows to begin with, so it's always a surprise when one of the few people she does know appears in Fódlan. Chad and Elffin are also here, bringing the number of people she knows from before up to three.

(Perhaps it should technically be four, but does it count when the memory is only one way...?)

This man is one of the Sacaens; a companion to Sue in the same way Igrene and Fae were her companions. She had only gotten a small glimpse of Sacae on their travels, but it had been completely different from what she had grown up with. Rather than sand as far as the eye could see, it had instead been rolling plains. Greenery had been everywhere, not just in the small area surrounding the oasis.

It had been a reminder that the world outside was far more vast and beautiful than anything she could have imagined.

Sophia unhooks her own turtle charm from her bracelet and holds it out in turn. She's more familiar with tortoises, but there is a fun sense of novelty in looking at the charm's little flippers. It is meant to resemble a sea creature and not a desert creature, after all.

"...Here... for you."

[nabataprophet]

It's hardly a surprise at this point, seeing Pelleas all dressed up at the ball. The exposed calves are new, but this is a beach, after all. Some have forgone their long dresses and pants in favor of feeling the ocean spray on their legs.

"...We do... seem to meet here often," Sophia agrees.

It's not quite here, given the location has changed from previous years, but the idea is the same. They make no plans to find each other beforehand, but they always seem to run into each other without even trying. It happens at other monastery sanctioned events as well, but they attend the same ones far less consistently.

She doesn't mind seeing him, of course. It's always a relief to see a familiar face at events like these with a large number of people gathered and if he talks to her for a while (as he tends to do), then she does not need to brave talking to strangers for very long.

"Um... being able to meet someone from outside multiple years in a row... is new to me. Seeing a person every day and only seeing them every so often... they're very different."

Pelleas doesn't seem very interested in pursuing that line of conversation any further, so Sophia's gaze follows where he points to the lanterns floating on the surface of the water. The ocean is so much more vast than the oasis she had grown up looking over; some of the lanterns have already drifted off so far that they are nothing but glowing specks of light on the horizon.

"Then do you also... have something you wish for...?"

romancing cruise

         ⤷   ethereal ball 2025:  first half.

[nabataprophet]

ball engagements

Sophia's charm: Turtle

Received charms:

Seashell: Elffin, Nel

Starfish: Rosado

Anchor:

Turtle:

Pearl: Sin, Hortensia

[nabataprophet]

april activity check

x

status: passed

skill points gained: 1 (40)

march activity check: any +1 | flying e > e+

claims:

none for now!

[nabataprophet]

In the murky darkness of this room, Pelleas' refusal is the clearest thing here.

"Yes... we will probably be blamed... no matter what happens," Sophia agrees. "Whether we act or don't... the fact that we were here at all... is enough to draw ire."

The cowards who chose to run away or the monsters who took a bad situation and made it worse with their twisted magic. There is no situation in which they leave here having made a better impression of dark magic or themselves. They would be hard pressed to call it a trap when they had walked in of their own volition, knowing what awaits on the other side.

"But I am glad... you chose to stay," she confesses. "Thank you... Pelleas."

If the noblewoman's wife felt that her beloved would stay with her even when life became hard, would that be enough to assuage the torment in her heart? Would she even be willing to see or would she plug her ears, so comforted by the lie she has sold herself that she no longer wants to hear the truth?

They could be here for years trying to unravel the exact mechanics of this spell. If Sophia had access to the research stored within Arcadia's libraries, that number could probably be cut in half. But even that is far longer than the time they've been allotted to resolve this problem.

An easy solution to matters of the heart. Any way you look at it, it's an impossible ask.

"The client... I want to tell her the truth. If she knows the truth... and is still unable to get through... then..." Gaze flicks to the portrait. "We cannot return a soul... that does not want to return. Her body might survive, but..."

love me (not)

         ⤷    mission task:  anniversary 2024  ( reason +1 )

[nabataprophet]

"...A stuffed animal."

For someone like Sophia, who plucks each individual word from the air with careful consideration, it might as well be an immediate answer. In the entire time they've known each other, it's probably the fastest she's answered one of the countless questions Pelleas has posed to her.

Having answered, she is content to fall back into silence, letting the sounds of the workshop fill the space between them. It's a lively place, this smithy, filled with people eager to attend the workshop. It's not just blacksmiths in training at the forges, either. Even mages like them have come, seeking to learn this new skill.

To be without a weapon in a tumultuous land is terrifying, so the knowledge it can be mended by your own hand is a balm for the fearful heart.

"It's not wrong... to want a weapon." She'd given out her fair share of weapons, too. It's not as though she regretted her choice in gifts when the other party seemed so happy or that she would choose to do things differently if she had the chance. "But I..."

Flipping listlessly through the pages of a worn book, inscriptions faded almost to the point of illegibility, Sophia lapses into silence once more.

"...If I could choose, I... don't want weapons... to be necessary as gifts."

what the heart wants

         ⤷   mission task:   restoration   ( axe +1 )

[nabataprophet]

She almost misses sight of her, quiet as every other time Yunaka has seen her. It's only out of the corner that she catches sight of a familiar purple that she remembers carefully running her fingers through a few moons earlier. Yunaka pauses on her path to where she's meant to be and turns, sharply, to go over to her instead.

"Not hurt too badly, are ya?" She's got half a mind to tease her about keeping her hair off the ground during battles, but she decides against it. She's not sure how much the wins and losses matter to Sophia, and she doesn't want to accidentally press down on a sore spot.

One of her many (stolen) juice boxes is pulled out from a pocket and held out to her, along with a smile. "Sorry, I don't have any better consolation prize to offer right now. I didn't need an exam like this to tell how amazing you are anyway."

...alright, no, she can't resist. Yunaka nods at Sophia's hair. "You want help with that again? Fighting's over, but we still gotta march back after they finish up, and it would suck if someone accidentally stepped on it or something."

This really must be Sophia's lucky day, because she gets not just one, but two (2) juice boxes just for participating. The first comes from the person she would expect, but the second comes from a different, but still familiar face.

Sophia shakes her head lightly. All of the remaining smouldering embers have been extinguished by this point and her body would heal the bruises on its own even if the volunteers at the medical tent hadn't swarmed her with healing staves at the ready. She would be sore for some time for sure, but that is only a sign that her body is mending itself.

Pain truly is relative, if she thinks about it. Compared to great mechanical beasts trying to crush her with rocks and their own bodies, taking the blunt end of a lance from a human man really isn't that bad after she's had a few minutes to sit and catch her breath.

"...Amazing...? ...Me...? No, um, it probably... wasn't as impressive... as you're imagining."

It had been a tome she'd been unfamiliar with, one that lacked the devastating raw power she'd come to expect from dark magic. It was a spell well-suited to a friendly battle, even if the aftereffects had been stronger than she'd expected.

Something to investigate more on her own time, then.

The topic of her hair comes up once more, leading Sophia to tilt her head. She'd never particularly minded the length of her hair, but it seems like recently people had become concerned with it. Or at least concerned enough to bring it up to her directly instead of just thinking it to themselves.

"The ribbon..." Sophia says softly, turning her back to give Yunaka better access to the waterfall of hair behind her. "I didn't... want it to get dirty."

Considering where it had come from, that might be a lost cause, but wouldn't it be nice to make it last as long as possible?

[nabataprophet]

march activity check

status: passed

skill points gained: 2 (39)

march activity check: any +1 | faith c+ 1/2 > b boel2025 participation: any +1 | riding e+ > d

claims:

rescue (faith b) luck+ (riding d) troubadour access

[nabataprophet]

Sophia lifts a floppy yellow plush carcass from the pile provided in the makeshift shop. A discerning eye might be able to see through the downy fluff and see the suggestion of a beak and see that it is meant to be a chick of some sort. It would've been nice if it had come with an elongated tail instead of ending abruptly in a stumpy suggestion of feathers, but that might be asking for too much for a charity event.

The people who put these together would obviously have no reason to know what her best friend looks like, so she can't really blame them.

How to say this, though... stuffed animals look pretty upsetting without any stuffing in them. The way it flops limply in her hands makes her want to put it back down in the pile. Rather than a stuffed animal, it feels more like the discarded pelt of an animal. But in the end, it still looks a little bit like her, so she doesn't really want to let go of it either. With a little stuffing, it would probably be less viscerally upsetting to look at and hold.

Sophia pauses before starting this crucial task, however, to look at someone else in the store. His appearance in this mundane environment is something of a relief after the last time they'd seen one another had been in dire straits.

"...Elffin?"

@moriddyn

what we leave behind

restoration: forge-a-bear