#support: sigurd

[duskofendflame]

@bxldrsdraumar asked:

As Sigurd's eyes found the young man that was to be his next partner in this affair, he could not help but smile - he had seen the young, fresh-faced man about the monastery, an energetic and willful professor who infused the place with life. "Well met, professor!" He extended a hand to shake, the bangle of this game visible on his wrist, the mark of he who had kept his word. He saw that the young man carried one with the same mark, and his smile widened. "This game is rather easy, is it not?" He winked, teasing - he knew of course that there had been those who'd shared more unfortunate fates in the previous round, but it did not bear saying. He'd no intention of betraying a man for things greater than mere candy, and could see that Corrin was a man of similar virtue. "A joke, of course. The game is truly to get the measure of your opponent, isn't it?"

Corrin is rather relieved to see that his "opponent" for this round bears a mark that brandishes to the world that he was loyal. He would have hated to be paired up with one of the betrayers, to know that they had been cruel enough to do it once.

But the man in front of him now seems kind, and while they had not talked before, Corrin had at least seen him around the monastery, if only in passing.

"Yes, I suppose. There will always be those who are good at hiding their intentions though," He falls silent for a moment, trying to force himself to not remember the past he had lived under the thumb of Nohr's king - still not his father, "But rest assured I am not one of them! I fully intend to be your ally, Lord Sigurd!"

[princepsumbra]

"Well then! A sight for sore eyes, aren't you, my friend?" A jest - he did not know Professor Leo particularly well, but it mattered little. Their adventure in town recently, with the unfortunate circumstance of the beverages, had sealed their camaraderie as well as any campaign across a muddy field might have, and when Sigurd clapped eyes on the man, and clasped their hands together, it was with the same warmth he might have anyone else.

"I'm pleased you've come, I was uncertain - I've met your sister just now. What a fine family you have! I should hope that you'll have the opportunity to meet mine. Oh! Actually, that reminds me, here - this is for you."

He reached over to the table which held the goodie bags, and grabbed one to present to the professor. "Just an assortment of treats from my home - I always enjoyed them as a child. My sister, as well. Perhaps you'll find something you like."

The bag is of a plush sapphire velvet with braided gold drawstrings. If he were tempted to peek inside, he would find the festive goodies of the typical Chalphy holiday season: roasted nuts coated in a caramelized warming spice mixture, a hand-pulled twisted peppermint stick, decadent candied orange peel, and a holiday cracker to be pulled later with little knick-knacks within.

Clapping Leo on the shoulder once more, Sigurd grinned. "Please, enjoy yourself! You must let me know if I can be of assistance."

"Good evening, Lord Sigurd." Leo returns the vigorous handshake, opting to ignore the mention of their little mishap in town last month. Though perhaps it would be worth asking if anyone besides the chef has access to the drinks being served this evening.

While no, parties are not his forte, it would be the height of rudeness not to accept Sigurd's invitation. The man in question may not see it as such--he strikes Leo as an easygoing type, quick to trust and offer others grace.

Releasing Sigurd's hand, Leo accepts the little bag. "Thank you. Camilla certainly knows how to dazzle everyone she meets." A faint burst of citrus comes from within the bag, along with peppermint. Not a bad combination, if one were into that sort of thing.

"I hope to meet your family during the meal. I find how one interacts with their loved ones tell a lot about them." With that, he smiles politely and enters the transformed dining hall.

[laslow]

"Welcome! Welcome! Please, come in, come in!" Sigurd did not know much about the young swordsman who was an assistant professor for the Blue Lions - had heard mere whispers about him, if that, from the ladies of the monastery, and it was easy to see why, with his easy smiles and charm.

Just the sort of man to liven up a party! Sigurd greeted him with a smile, clasping his hand firmly. "Thank you for coming, my friend - here, come, for you - "

From a table near the door, Sigurd nabs a goodie bag and plops it into the young swordsman's hands. The bag is of a plush sapphire velvet with braided gold drawstrings. If he were tempted to peek inside, he would find the festive goodies of the typical Chalphy holiday season: roasted nuts coated in a caramelized warming spice mixture, a hand-pulled twisted peppermint stick, decadent candied orange peel, and a holiday cracker to be pulled later with little knick-knacks within.

"You must let me know if everything is to your liking! Please, have a lovely time - we've food, and drink, and festivities abound. Surely a man such as yourself will be able to find something to catch his eye."

Laslow tears his gaze away from the lights strung around the room and faces the man now greeting him. One of the hosts, dancer assumes, and returns his friendly smile.

"Thank you for inviting me! This is quite the gathering." Laslow notes the other man's strong grip. Tries to place his name--Sig-something. Surely not another Siegbert; he'll have to find a polite way to ask later on.

"Oho, some goodies already?" He curls his fingers around the soft velvet, feeling wrappers crinkle inside. "Ah, it doesn't take much to impress me. I can tell this is going to be a rather lovely party."

With his free hand, he runs a carefree hand through his artfully tousled hair. "I'll see you around, my friend!"

[melusinezephyr]

"For you, my lady." Sigurd presented the tray to the woman before him with a bow. The platter is displayed with a variety of finely roasted poultry meats, cooked in a traditional Chalphy style of one-within-the-other. The skin of the turkey is crispy, and the fats from the duck have marinated both the chicken within and the turkey without. There are cloves and lemon slices studding the plate, combining to form a melange of rich flavors. The choice of which piece to take is up to the feaster – there is plenty to go around!

He did not know this woman - not intimately, although she had approached him once before, long ago after the Battle of Eagle and Lion. If his memory was fresh and fuzzy as peach skin then, then what he has gained since formed a static around his mind. Still, he recalled her, thanks in no small part to the curved moon horns ornamenting her crown.

"I must thank you for coming, my lady. We may not be friends at this moment, but I have seen you move around the party. You are striking, if I may say, and the respect you command is admirable. I hope this, and everything else, has been satisfactory, and that you've enjoyed your time this evening."

"My, my, you're quite the sweet talker, aren't you Lord Sigurd?" Zephia was familiar with his visage, as the emblem Sigurd. It was rather odd to her, to have made his acquaintence here at the academy. The real thing was quite different from the silent emblem she had grown used to. Though, would that not be the case with any of the emblems?

"Your own presence is quite palpable." She smirks, tapping her fingers idly against her arm. If the real Sigurd was even half as strong as the emblem, then he would certainly command her respect.

"Thank you for hosting, my lord. It was quite... enjoyable."

[remnant-emblemeer]

i love that some parts of fire emblem are like "hey remember that time Frederick put a commissioned propaganda piece of prince Chrom naked around the Shepherds army camp? that's so silly" and others are like "hey remember when Sigurd got incinerated alive in the home of his murdered friend while his wife and the mother of his child watched and had no memory of him" like isn't that so. ._.

[ignifilis]

"Overwhelming, yes. It's been..." he trails off, a fingertip absently dragging along the rim of his teacup. "I haven't been around this many people--this much noise--in years."

Yet he's soaking up every cacophonous moment. He'd wished for even a sliver of sensory stimulation beyond the drip, drip, drip, of water in the cell and the faint scuttling of rats along the stones during his long imprisonment. This ball is both too much and not enough; he'll never be socially driven like his beloved, but he understands (and appreciates) the value of human contact more than ever.

Azelle takes another sip of tea. With every swallow, warmth chases away the cold threatening to overtake him. "What do you think of our unique circumstances? I've never heard of something like before, even in all my books."

This will certainly be a memorable evening, something to cling to when the nightmares comes knocking. He's inordinately grateful some of his good friends are here as well. It makes bearing everything a little easier.

"We've become the subjects of a story, haven't we?"

[ Tea ]

Steam curls from the cup in lazy, transparent swirls. Warmth seeps through the porcelain, staving off frost nipping at his fingers. He needs a little extra heat to get him through the cooler months; a cup of cinnamon tea will do the trick for now.

Azelle claims an empty table, eager to conserve his energy while he recharges. A mouthful has hardly been swallowed when he half rises from his seat and waves. "Lord Sigurd!"

He gestures for the other to claim one of the available seats. There's a special pull about Sigurd, drawing others into his orbit like moons around a planet despite the danger of attracting something destructive.

In this second chance at life, that hasn't changed.

"You look well, Lord Sigurd," Azelle says once they've settled. "Are you faring better since we last spoke?"

Circumstances be damned, these elementals had put on a good party. The music was lively, the drink flowed plentifully, and when his comrades felt they could afford to lighten up, there was dance and laughter and merriment enough to echo against the walls and into the night sky.

Sigurd felt the relief, the lack of pressure against his skull and his ribs, and took the opportunity with both hands, cavorting about until his cheeks hurt from smiling. From new friends, to old friends, to somewhere in between, he found himself delighted to be in his element here.

"Ah young Azelle!" Returning the wave and changing his trajectory from concessions booth to one of the private tables, Sigurd flagged down a mouse waiter and gestured for another tasse. Seating himself comfortably across from Azelle, he helped himself to some tea from the pot, and sipped.

The cinnamon warmed him from within immediately, the sensation so abrupt against the cold night air that he almost felt the urge to cough.

When Azelle asked if he fared better, the instant reply from his lips is, "Quite!" and although it wasn't a mistruth, there was a hesitance to rest his eyes on the young man, though it was an action he took deliberately once the spice left his throat.

For he still felt the flames hugging his sides, to hot, too close, too dangerous, and why - ? to see those red eyes on his, but in the time since they last spoke Sigurd had forced his fear to heel.

He smiled, wide and open at the young man, and felt the creases about his eyes melt into a familiar, warm expression. "And you, my friend? How are you finding this whole affair? I suppose for many it may seem overwhelming..."

[nightmareonpeachstreet]

seeing Marth and Caeda being so high up as a pair is very healing to me

even more healing when I see that, as far as having a canon lore reason to be paired together, they're technically in first on this list

[paintingfallenraindrops]

An overnight outage to the stables’ heating system results in the deaths of several wyverns, personal mounts and beloved lesson drakes alike. In their grief, passionate students vowed to sleep overnight in the wyvern stables to help them keep warm through the night. [Grants Flying +1]

Cadros' heart pangs in sadness as soon as he hears about the deaths of the wyverns. The poor things freezing to death in the frigid cold that has come to surround the monastery. He wonders, if somehow, they are kin to Anankos. And if that were to be the case, well then his heart aches only that much more! Not that he has ever ridden a wyvern before, or he has any reason to be sneaking down to the stables in the middle of the night with a giant buddle of blankets in his arms.

But he just can't help but worry! Those poor little guys must be even more cold than they were during the day and he doesn't want to see any more of them die without at least trying to do something!

In his rush to get down to the stables, he doesn't quite watch where he's going, slamming into the broad shoulder of another man while he is distracted.

"Oh! Sir Sigurd! I did not expect to see an esteemed knight like yourself out so late at night, espeically in this cold. Are you worried about the wyverns as well?"

@bxldrsdraumar

If You're Cold, They're Cold. Let Them Inside

[memietroubadour]

GIVE IT UP FOR DAY 2!!!!!!! On the ride or die train for Sigurd and I was with Tsubasa too but I got Ullr random chance in her FIRST YEAR SHE'S VOTABLE!!!! AnywayI hope people are having fun with CYL this year!! I'll continue voting Sigurd and Tsubasa!! (I'm also getting some friends who aren't FEH players to vote for Sigurd!!)

[lycanloc]

Alright, this is what I put together for Yunaka (considering punishing dodgy Thief)

.

[tomorrowscircle]

An overnight outage to the stables’ heating system results in the deaths of several wyverns, personal mounts and beloved lesson drakes alike. In their grief, passionate students vowed to sleep overnight in the wyvern stables to help them keep warm through the night. [Grants Flying +1]

Morgan hears about the outage of the heaters from one of her classmates first - or students? She may have been their teacher now, but honestly, it still felt like she was part of the class most day - and the laughter had faded, replaced by a forlorn expression that did not at all look at home upon her face.

She would hate, if she had a mount here, for her own precious wyvern to die (she didn't have one... did she...?), cold and alone in lonely stables far away from human company. Especially had she raised it herself, saw it grow into a beast fit for riding. She feels bad for students who had lost something so dear.

But surely she can do something before any more of them have to die! And the thought of being able to fix the heaters gets the cogs in her brains turning, wondering how exactly they had worked to begin with. If she knew how they functioned then- no no no! Just scrap the whole thing and start anew! Surely it had to be magic, and magic could simply be so fincky! It would probably be best to start from scratch!

And so, she finds herself slogging through the snow, reems of paper clutched tightly to her chest, trying desperately to not get them wet. Such plans were too precious to be ruined, especially with lives at stake!!

Too bad it was really hard to wade through the snow when you were so short. She finds herself stuck just before the wyvern stables, snow up to her shoulders, holding up her papers wildly above her head. Suffice to say, this certainly wasn't in her plan.

"Damn it all!!! Snow is stupid, someone help!!!" Her only chance is to call out desperately and hope that someone walks by (someone taller than her) to help. And then the wyverns can be saved!!! (Hopefully.)

@bxldrsdraumar

If You Give a Wyvern a Heater

[almoststedytimetravel]

Having the realisation that all of Chrom’s possible S-supports are supposed to references to love interests from previous games, not just Sumia.

The obvious one would be Sumia as a pegasus knight being a reference to Marth and Ceada. Robin as the mysterious white and purple kind of dragon lady would be a reference to Sigurd and Deirdre (or even Ike and Soren with the whole tactician angle). Maribelle as the troubadour childhood friend would be a reference to Leif and Nanna. Sully as the a loyal knight to house Ylisse would be a reference to Seth and Erika or even Sothe and Micaiah though I think Seth and Erika fits just a little better. While lastly Olivia as the dancer who you met earlier in the story though only joins you a little later after guiding you to a place, toward the dragon’s gate and out of Plegia, would be a reference to Eliwood and Ninian.            

[ricecat-sdvx]

[darkwood-sleddog]

Hi there! Quick question, how much dog aggression would be normal for malamutes? At what point does it become something other than a breed trait? Is this comparable to other breeds with SSA?

Well I don't really know how to compare it with other breeds with SSA, just because I don't have experience with them.

Speaking generally, MOST adult dogs of any breed are dog selective to some degree, often preferring several compatible companions or friends over large groups of strange dogs.

A temperamentally sound malamute should generally be able to be walked on a leash past other dogs (no contact or greeting) and not be reactive. This is not a dog that should, in temperamentally sound cases, be straining to reach other dogs far off with single focus. Where the issue lies is in close contact, greeting, and interactions with strange dogs and/or dogs of the same sex.

Malamutes are very much oriented towards their pack and much like other sled dogs do very well when raised in a family structure. It is difficult to integrate a new adult dog into an existing pack of malamutes versus a puppy. Part of this is because malamutes do have their own form of communication, like many breeds do, and dogs raised outside of that communication can be deemed as "rude" or in need of telling off from the existing dogs, which creates conflict and an overall lack of harmony. Overall in this behavior an existing dog is much less tolerable of dogs of the same sex. And generally, Malamutes thrive and enjoy fighting when it occurs (see: trends towards running into conflicts not having to do with them in dog parks).

Same Sex Aggression behaviors can be on a sliding scale, much as other dog aggression, and I'd say all forms are present in the Malamute breed. For me personally I prefer if the dog can work in harness/team with other dogs as this is part of their purpose, however there are many in the breed that are both temperamentally stable, and absolutely cannot tolerate other dogs of the same sex in any regard. Now I personally wouldn't breed those individuals, but the dog would probably do well paired with an opposite sex dog as its only other non-human companion.

For me, indiscriminate dog aggression not related to "rude" behaviors or same sex interactions is not okay in the breed. Malamutes, although often same sex aggressive, should also never be human aggressive.

[paintingfallenraindrops]

The firm handshake the other man gives him is enough to make a flower bloom across the vines that adorn Cadros' usual formal wear. He thinks that it rather suits him, the way that the blossoms framed his body. Though he is not so vain to think that others see it the same way.

"No, not quite, though my arrival was not that long ago. I am in the employ of the academy as well, though rather as professor than a knight. Perhaps I should have joined the knights! It might have suited me, but also I would not like to wear so much armor! It's so hard to move on the battlefield once you are confined so! Though, I suppose a noble knight like yourself would understand such a thing!" He's rambling again, spouting off any thoughts that come to his mind. Perhaps it is how freely the bar flows, or the fact that the one person who can get him to keep from running his mouth the entire night has gone to hide in a corner, away from all the sound and bustle of the people in the room.

"Oh! Wait, why ever would I seem familiar to you? Perhaps you have met my god? We do sometimes have a passing resemblance to each other!"

Champagne: This isn’t a church-run event anymore, so the bar is open and flows freely. The waiter-mice might give you judging looks if you make a fool of yourself, and really, how low do you have to go to be judged by a mouse?

"Care for a drink, Sir Sigurd?"

"I would be delighted, my friend. Cheers!" Sigurd taps the rim of his glass against the other man's, clasping his hand firmly. The brand of air on his palm whips up the embers on the other's, sending warmth coursing down both of their arms. He does not know this man, but between his regal bearing and his friendliness, Sigurd knows he is sure to be a friend indeed.

"I don't believe we've met, though you seem so familiar. I am Sigurd, of Chalphy. I have the honor to be a knight in the employ of the Lady Archbishop. Are you merely a visitor, sir?"

[anruraiocht]

He could not help but think that she entered the hall skittish as a deer, but he saw the blaze in her eyes, the stone set of her jaw, and Sigurd could not help but steer his attention to her.

"Welcome, child! Come, come – here, to break the ice, I've a gift for you. Some treats from my homeland – I enjoyed them quite a bit when I was a lad, and my sister as well, perhaps you'll find something you enjoy."

He grabbed a goodie bag from one of the nearby tables and presented it to her with a flourish and a smile. The bag is of a plush sapphire velvet with braided gold drawstrings. If she were tempted to peek inside, she would find the festive goodies of the typical Chalphy holiday season: roasted nuts coated in a caramelized warming spice mixture, a hand-pulled twisted peppermint stick, decadent candied orange peel, and a holiday cracker to be pulled later with little knick-knacks within.

"I don't believe we've met, have we, my lady? I am Sigurd, of Chalphy. The lady, just there, my cohost, that is my sister – Ethlyn Claus, of Leonster. Please, if you find yourself in need of anything, you must find one of us, we would be delighted." His eyes creased with his smile; "In the meantime, I hope you enjoy your time."

Miranda had considered ignoring the invitation. The letter could have crackled in the hearth with all of the other letters demanding her attention, crumbling into ashes. This all would have transpired had it not been for the final line of the invitation, crossed out though it was.

"Jugdral countrymen must attend!"

With one line, her decision goes from a personal choice to one she must make on behalf of her kingdom. Her presence is requested as Ulster's heir and she would hear no end to the nagging were she to skip out on such an event.

Imagine her surprise, however, when the late Duke of Chalphy himself hands her a goodie bag. Ignoring the absurdity of this situation entirely, a legend in the flesh greets her with all the warmth of the hearth she had almost burned the invitation in.

...Is this... not a political affair, then?

"A gift? You are quite the gracious host," she says, gingerly taking the bag by its gilded drawstrings.

It weighs quite heftily in her hand for such a small bag. A sweet scent wafts from the velvet, hinting at what lies within. She is not uncouth enough to open a gift in front of the host, so she will find out the specifics later in the comfort of her own room, away from the bright blue eyes watching her.

She curtsies, pulling at the edges of her dress, "It is an honor, Lord Sigurd. I am Miranda of Ulster. And I thank you for your introductions, but I am" – a grimace – "already acquainted with Lady Ethlyn."

Ulster's princess hesitates, considering whether or not she wants to divulge further information.

"...Lord Sigurd, I do not know if you are aware, but your son returned my kingdom to me and I am eternally grateful for that."