#sacretic

[solarsbrace]

✶ — › 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄 ‹ — ✶

@sacretic

"greetings, prince lyon." it is far too formal of a hello for ephraim, but this was indeed a formal setting. even if it was stiff and uncomfortable for him, this is what he had spent many moons practicing back home. the art of conversation, the way of building connections amongst other nobles. it felt so frivolous, and yet it's importance was stressed to him time and time again. part of him wanted to know, at the very least, if lyon would recognize this change in him. would the prince see his commitment to doing things right? for both renais and grado...

"i had not expected to find you attending this kind of event of your own volition." the same could be said for himself, he thought... perhaps he was not the only one determined to change. the way the three of them used to sneak away together, avoiding the watchful eyes of adults. the fields they passed the time in, even the ideas they shared... all were in the past. everyone, including him, had to grow up at some point.

"i'm glad you're enjoying yourself, but i wonder if i might impose upon you for a moment?" this blasted way of speaking, never to the point and always filled with useless fluff. he could break this character and speak as he wanted, but that would spit in the face of his commitment. even if it did take a thousand words, he would get a handshake out of lyon. "i wonder if you might share your element with me? i'm told a handshake is sufficient."

[lycianlynx]

[ Pause ]  it starts with a chair that wasn't there a split second ago. maybe it's a prank intended for another unfortunate soul, or perhaps one of the patrons has decided to use him for their entertainment. or he wasn't just paying enough attention to his surroundings.

regardless, lyon trips on one of its legs and face-plants straight onto the sparkling floor.

"ow..." he groans. with the help of his arms, lyon manages to get on his knees.   &   much to his mortification, he realizes he tripped right in front of a stranger.

The room — It stutters, shifts. Things shuffle in Chad's periphery, and unwilling to risk a repeat of earlier, the boy freezes in place, on high alert, but this time, it doesn't seem like he's the victim of some shit prank.

He turns his head back around just in time to see the actual victim of the latest shift trip over an entire chair and eat shit, though— A flurry of lavender and robes, utterly spectacularly wiping out on the floor.

They try not to laugh. They really do, pressing a fist to their mouth as the poor partygoer tries to get up. While they're only moderately successful in holding back a snort, their expression schools pretty quickly into genuine concern as they kneel to make sure he's alright, because damn, that was a nasty spill.

"You're not hurt? That looked rough." they ask, holding out a hand marked with earth for him to take — For support or just for the flower, either is fine, maybe to help him up too while they're at it. "Here — Up you go."

Brown eyes flicker over him to make sure he's actually okay, before they let out a little huff, direction of their irritation clear with how their eyes flicker upwards. "Jerks pranked me earlier, too."

[frauleindermorgen]

that don’t impress me much / t. ruins mechanic questioning

Micaiah has not had the chance to get to know Lyon the way she has some of the others she has shared this dream with for the past moon or so, but she owes the man her life and the trust that comes with that is not be forgot. His quiet suggestion to the group that they inquire after the Mechanic’s initial request for seven live cores and fuel was met with varying degrees of interest from the re-assembled party, but it’s Micaiah who takes the initiative and invites him along when she once again sees their “friend”’s familiar silhouette making its way to the apartments.

“I have my own question for him,” Micaiah says, gesturing with the wrench she still has on her from the ill-fated chase she Kurthnaga and Professor Leo had been on, “so if you could attend to our resources I would be very thankful. Let us both be prepared.”

While the group had mostly been preoccupied with Deirdre, Forsyth, and their sudden return to health, the Mechanic’s first appearance back at the apartments after their run in with the Aukes had made it quite apparent that any questions regarding his whereabouts would lead only to more confusing anecdotes; so while Micaiah had not given up on solving that mystery yet, she figured she should grab the other’s attention with something more likely to incite interest.

“Hello there,” she says, waving to the Mechanic as she and Lyon descend the apartment stairs, “we have a few things for you if you have a moment!”

The Mechanic raises an eyebrow and Micaiah holds out the wrench, “We found this on our way to bring back our captured teammates. Would it happen to be yours?”

"Oh! Yes!!" He lights up Immediately, until dawns the realization that his tools being scattered on the ground means they were mistreated. "They must have dropped it from my tool belt along the way... How could they... Well! Thank you for returning it though!" reaches

"Oh no! The Aukes did?" She holds the wrench to her heart. Clearly she truly feels for him. "that's terrible! I'm so glad we were about to recover it for you. Oh, but first can you tell us more about what you need the cores and fuels for?"

Unphased, the Mechanic merely winks.   "It wouldn't be much of a surprise if I just told you, now would it? Rather, I'd love to show you."

"Certainly! As long as we can help. It's the least we can do," Micaiah chirps, looking up at Lyon, seeming to come to an agreement they move move closer to the Mechanic, Micaiah handing over the wrench while Lyon gathered the cores from amongst his robes. They would have to bring out the fuel together, later.

@sacretic

[justices-blade]

no (tea)leaf unturned // lyon + edward

Reason and Faith band together to put on this month’s special seminar: the history of tasseomancy! You will be learning the “magic” behind divination and how the old masters used the remains of tea leaves and coffee grounds to predict future events. Just in time for the moon of love, you will all be divining your romantic futures from a delicious cup of white rose tea. [Grants Reason or Faith +1] starter for @sacretic.

It's a beautiful day outside. Birds are singing, ice-flowers are blooming… On days like these, what better to do than enjoy a cup of white rose tea?

For the record, Edward could count a few things he'd rather be doing, like not having to drink the tea while stuck indoors, or having that tea be hot chocolate, or be one of those homier grain blends he likes instead of rosy and expensive-smelling, because he's not sure he can savour such a delicate taste appropriately. But also, he likes coffee even less, and it is pretty cold outside, so he gets it. It also beats struggling to read a single page of whatever while a professor blathers on for the better part of an hour, and he had signed up for this for a more hands-on experience in understanding magic better...

Sure, tasseomancy sounded cooler as a word than what it turned out to be, but it's a kind of fortune-telling, right? It's what Micaiah does on the regular. And even if it doesn't work for real (not like he could know), it would still be a cool party trick to bust out later. He's come to terms with his initial disappointment pretty quickly, and is actually kind of looking forward to the whole thing now — Exciting, albeit possibly embarrassing, but honestly? He's got nothing to hide or know about.

(At least to his knowledge.)

Humming a raspy tune to himself, Edward brings the tea set over from the trolley to the desk he's sharing with his appointed partner: A gentle- but melancholy-looking young man by the name of Lyon, who looks positively miserable to be here. That, he gets too. Hoping to help at least a little, he shoots the other a winning smile as he sets down the set and sits down afterwards, picking up a spoon to twirl between his fingers idly.

"I've gotten better at enjoying tea recently, but never this nice! This kind looks sorta expensive. Smells good, too. We're pouring our own cups, yeah?" It's a rhetorical question, so he continues on. "It'd make sense, since it's our fortunes."

The tea steeps between them, even as Edward runs his mouth in attempt at lightening the mood. A clink of spoon against teapot as he gestures with his occupied hand — It's a light noise, deliberate, not an issue over the general noise of porcelain starting up across the classroom. He leans in a little, lowers his voice, a playful twinkle in his eyes, hoping to put the other at least a some kind of ease.

"By the way, if you're nervous — whatever I read from yours or you from mine, we can keep a secret. Promise!"

[teneguine]

✢⁎. you want to get beat? hurtily? 

@sacretic sent:

"oh, you are..." recognition dawns in violet eyes once it becomes clear who lyon is crossing paths with. it's difficult to forget a man with a flair for dramatics in his speech.

fingers brush against the cover of his tome, only to close around the levin sword's hilt instead. perhaps using such a weapon over inky miasma will quell his unease somewhat. (his previous opponent, the woman whose name lyon didn't even think to ask for, told him to be proud for fighting well... but.)

"let's get this over with..." he raises it heavenward, electricity crackling in tandem with thunder's rumble overhead.   &   with a flick of his wrist, grado's prince directs the magical current toward his opponent.

lyon (5/5 HP) attacks owain with levin sword at range! roll: 16, hit! -2HP (1.5 base + 0.5 magic+) to owain poison strike will activate at the end of turn! -0.5HP to owain

Brushing off the scars of his last scuffle, the esteemed Professor Oberon Dark marches into the throng of conquest. With arcane powers ebbing through his blood, he thinks himself unstoppable.

‘Tis a pity, then, that he’d lose the jump for a second time now.

The bolt scrapes his shoulder, singing black his professorial uniform and charring what tender flesh lies beneath. Dark hisses as he turns to his opponent; he’s really starting to grow tired of this beat-the-hero game.

“GRAH! Again I am taken by foul tactics!” he announces, speaking more to himself than to Lyon, “You, too, shall receive a taste of my bloodfury revenge! Feel the hungering wrath of Seventh Doomflare!” 

Owain (3.5/6) counterattacks Lyon with Thoron! Roll: 16, Crit! -4 HP and Poison Strike, -0.5 HP (Lyon 0.5/5)

A better start than last time, but his opponent still stands. Closing in for the finish, Owain slides a few paces nearer and readies a quicker dose of his spell. The smirk on his face says he’s confident it will land the final blow, but,

Owain (3.5/6) attacks Lyon with Thoron! Roll: 6, Miss! -0 HP (Lyon 0.5/5)

“(Drat! Not again...)”

[estians]

@sacretic sent:  lyon is uncertain how he has made it this far. perhaps it's up to luck he's yet to lose. the last time... it was close.   &   now, the prince wonders if he has it in him after all  ———  to fight.

he hopes he doesn't.

and perhaps, now, against a pegasus knight, he may leave the field behind. "i am lyon..." unlike in his previous bouts, he finds his voice, fingers grasping thight onto the death tome. "let's do our best...?"

lyon attacks est with death at close range! roll d20: 4, miss! -0HP to est

with that said, lyon moves to close the distance and murmurs an incantation, but it's not enough.

Est is back on Hermes’ back before long, circling the field in low, sweeping rounds. The rain has only gotten worse with time— she’s had to slick her hair back and rub the water from her eyes with the back of her palm, and even then it’s difficult to tell friend from foe. Still, a faint greeting does the identifying for her— though it almost sounds like a question— followed by a blast of magic that she narrowly avoids, her pegasus doing a sharp upward turn before it connects.

Hermes hovers there as she blinks the rain from her eyes, breathing deep to steady her racing heart. A Black Eagle, she thinks now that she can see him a bit better. It’s hard to miss that bright crimson color from up close. Lyon. She nods, lance spinning restlessly in her hand. “And I’m Est,” she returns with a dip of her head. “I’ll give it my all, okay? Let’s both do our best!”

Est [5/5HP] counters with the Killer Lance. ROLL 1D20: 13! Crit! -4HP Poison Strike activates! -0.5HP Est [5/5HP] attacks with the Killer Lance. ROLL 1D20: 10! Hit! -2HP

And by her best, Est really does mean her best. Dodging Lyon’s first spell was just the luck of the draw, as some of the mercenaries used to put it, and she never has been particularly lucky. This might be a mock battle, but on a real battlefield, she can’t leave things like this up to fate or the gods. If she wants to do something, it’s up to her. If she wants to live, someone has to die.

Her lance swings twice to the beat of his wings as Hermes dives. The Officers Academy took in students from all across the world; her gaze is not so rose-colored to believe that a perfect peace exists on some continent out there. Est wonders, idly, how many of those still standing could possibly be fortunate enough to have never seen war at all? She’ll count herself lucky if she never has to see it again.

[luneirika]

as my life is done in watermelon sugar

In spite of getting dragged from your Academy beds and made to solve problems in the middle of nowhere, these weeks spent in the village have given you all the best sleep of your lives. Tonight, you and your friends are whisked off to shared a dream of the past, what is now an idyllic world that adapts easily to your desires and expectations. Your mistakes, the pain others have inflicted on you, the things you’ve lost… everything you wish you could have changed or have control over, this dream gives you the chance to correct the course and make things right again. But as you feel your mind and body getting weaker with every minute you remain asleep, you realize that tearing yourself away from a world where everything is perfect takes a lot more will than simply kicking yourself awake. [Grants Faith +1]

Eirika arrives at Grado Keep late in the evening. The household staff waiting outside for her is to be expected; to settle her into bed after a brief audience with Emperor Vigarde to announce her arrival. She was not expecting him. Her heart soars in her chest when she sees him. Eirika scrambles to get out of the carriage as fast as she can. All thoughts of propriety fly from her mind as she dashes towards Lyon, teal hair blowing behind her in the wind. Wrapping her arms around his neck she laughs, joyful and warm. Oh, she had truly missed him!

“Lyon! What are you doing out here in the cold?” Eirika scolds, though her tone belies her real feelings. It feels like it’s been so very long - an eternity almost. Holding on to him like this feel so much like relief, a balm for a wound she didn’t know marred her heart. “It’s so good to see you again! It’s been--”

How long had it been? Eirika finds the words disappear, right on the tip of her tongue. She can’t bring herself to finish the sentence; something about this feels off but she just can’t place her finger on it. Wonders why it makes her heart ache so. After all, there’s no reason for her to feel like this moment is a miracle. One she hasn’t earned. Eirika shakes her head, stepping back to take a good look at her dearest friend.

“Well it’s been a while. I’ve missed you greatly,” she tries to ignore the strange feeling in her chest. Focusses instead on the present moment. “I can’t believe you managed to prevent such a terrible quake! You really are a hero, Lyon.”

@sacretic​

[nagaficat]

What Could Possibly Go Wrong :D

@viridescent-lance @sacretic @goldoandragonprince

"We simply must speak with them," Deirdre decides quite confidently. The Aukes have returned, they look like the missing Knights of Seiros, and they wish for peace. She sees no reason at all to question their motives. Yes, she was kidnapped and killed by them but she got better! Everyone deserves a second chance and the benefit of the doubt.

She thinks about how she plans on approaching her son after this dream ends. He took her life too and she still holds hope that their meeting will end well. Why would this be any different.

"These are our knights. Our friends. They deserve our kindness and goodwill." Deirdre stands tall with determination and clenches her fists. She believes in them and she believes in the goodness that exists in every person's heart. "I will go to them and accept their terms of peace. I assume the rest of you are in agreement?"

[goldoanheart]

@sacretic

[ Sweet Bun Trio ] despite lyon's reservations about food being served by sentient mice, he admits these buns look delectable. sweet.   &   he would be lying if he said he didn't care much for sugary goodness like this... lyon picks up a few into a napkin before turning to leave, only to notice a familiar person at the table.

"professor," he greets. for a split second, lyon hesitates between small talk and simply leaving the other man to it. the first option wins. "do- do you like sweets as well?"

Kurthnaga perks up as Lyon greets him, a soft smile flashing across his face. He blushes slightly at being caught in front of the desserts, a guilty pleasure that he did not often allow himself to enjoy. He glances towards the ground, bashful.

"Oh... I guess I do. It has never been much of something that I... openly allow myself to enjoy, however. More of a... secret treat than anything else, haha." The earth mark glowing slightly on the back of his hand only reminds him that he is watched over by a being even half as strict as his father. His father, who surely had not cared for such indulgences.

"It's nice to see that you are well though, Lyon."

[nelithic]

[ Fairy Wings ]  among many surreal things in this place, fairy wings are one of those lyon would describe as straight out of a fairytale. but despite lyon's reservations about the situation as a whole, he holds a pair with no small amount of wonder in his eyes.

"how do these even work...? is it magic of some kind?"

since the failed escape, she has been quieter. not with the humility of surrender — though she hopes partly to deceive the elementals into believing so — but in thought. and perhaps the healthy, slowing hand of consideration. she had leapt into it too recklessly last time, seeing an opening and acting urgently to take advantage of it. there had not been the time to gauge and calculate, that was true, but if she had searched for more information ahead of time, perhaps she would have been better equipped for the obstacles.

when the voice of a man nearby reaches her, she watches his fascination appraise a pair of those same wings she had hoped would win diamant his freedom. he speaks to himself, but there is a soft uncertainty about his voice and bearing, an artless light to his eye that disturbs the surface of a painful nostalgia.

"... no doubt the same magic that has been cast over this ballroom, if you would call all such unknown ' magic '," she answers him after a moment of deliberation, stepping closer to make herself known, yet not close enough to threaten. her gaze moves from the pair of wings back to the young man himself with a much cooler study compared to his own, concealing whatever thoughts may roam behind a mirror-like ruby.

"... you seem familiar. have i seen you before?"

[barbwalken]

Those 7 years changed something in their eyes

[solarsbrace]

✶ — › IS THIS SOME KIND OF SITCOM ‹ — ✶

@sacretic

   There he stood, unable to speak much less press past this disastrous situation he had been placed in. It was supposed to be a simple hunt and retrieve mission, as easy as training really, so how did it end up like this... Stood to his side was Lyon, Prince of Grado, his best friend, the man he had killed two years ago in a war to save his country. How could he be standing here in the flesh, looking just as confused and baffled as he felt. He could hardly look the other in their eyes, why would the gods play such cruel games with him... His hand tightened nervously around his spear, unsure of what exactly he was to do in a situation like this.

   Eirika would surely be overjoyed to see him again, but she did not know what he knew... How could he ever tell her the truth, the truth that their friend had betrayed them of his own volition. It still sent pangs of anguish through his entire being, remembering the before and after of their final clash. The guilt Ephraim tried to suppress, the guilt of letting things become the way they had, the guilt of having to be the one to end it... It only seemed magnified in Lyon’s presence. How could he ever get through this mission if all he could think about was the past, and not what was right in front of him.

   It wasn’t in his nature to confront feelings, he was much more accustomed to steel against steel encounters. This time, however, there was no other way around it, he couldn’t focus with the living dead by his side. With a strained breath and a diverted gaze, he began, “ How are you here, Lyon? ” To the point, though he had a million other questions to ask, all gathered from years of tortured thought. This would do for now, though, the rest could come later, if he could ever allow himself to be near Lyon again. “Is this another deal you made with The Demon King..? Are you even... yourself?” He tries to placate his rising emotions, tries to hide the pain, a King is always collected.

[knighteclipsed]

"Valter." For the past few weeks, Lyon has been blissfully unaware of the man's presence on this archipelago. But due to circumstances, he (unfortunately) knows. "Tell me the truth: did you do something to Professor Alfred? "

He had not expected the prince of all people to show up. Was this island some sort of Grado reunion? (It only grew more and more interesting with each face that appeared.)

“ Alfred? ” he repeats. He doesn’t know an Alfred– (A moment; a click.) Wasn’t that what—(Rafal, was his name)—had called their intruder?

“ Oh. Him. ” (He hums to himself, not offering any useful information.)

[slightly-gay-pogohammer]

Speaking of 4th wall breaking horror games, have you ever heard/played imscared?

i had lots of nightmares bc of imscared

[obsidiendo]

"Duessel. I didn't think I'd find you here," Lyon greets the general as he squints his eyes against the sunlight. Now that he thinks about it, he has never visited an island like this before. "It seems like we're on the same team."

If Duessel is honest with himself, he's surprised that he's come here as well. There is an air of calm, a vacation that he's not sure he's built the time up to take -- but when he reminds himself he's here to work and supervise, it starts to make more sense.

He smiles as he looks at the bandana around his own arm. "Team Snakes," he says. "I fear for our opponents, Your Highness, if we are who they must defeat."

A little smile graces his lips, just enough to show he's teasing.

[sabiartrin]

Them again