#support: valter

[second-sunstone]

Today isn’t different from any other—not really, if Valter was being honest; he woke up and it was normal, he trained and it was normal, he tended to his duties and it was all the same as it always was.

…but perhaps that was how it would always be, without fanfare or announcement, lacking in any sort of exciting change in the air; he thinks he is imagining it when he first catches a glimpse of the boy, but when Moonstone turns his head again, he is still standing there, wrapped up in whatever his business for being here was.

And Valter almost laughs—how amusing that another of his mortal enemies had wound up at the monastery; and the least threatening of them as well! (Well, there was also the little fire mage who seemed so intent on making his hatred known, but he was hardly an enemy to keep track of, small and frail as he was.) Valter looks, is amused, and then walks away. Cormag was never worth his time anyway.

Cormag catches, at the knife's edge of his vision, a silhouette that gores him like a blunt spear-head. The facets of a fraught, familiar jaw; hair the sickly shade of dry decay.

He blinks. He turns, whips his head around; his heart goes cold and mutinous.

There's no-one there.

With a rattle in his taut throat, Cormag breathes.

It's nothing. Valter, the Moonstone, is dead.

[far-from-common]

He hadn’t found her on the fields of Gronder two months prior, and though he’d idly thought to himself that he should track her down on some other occasion, without the context of combat, the prospect had lost its appeal; on the night of the Ethereal Ball, however? (Well, one could say most had their guards down, and Valter was always the type to spring on those opportunities.)

Such does he finally, finally catch sight of her—and indeed, the L’Arachel he had heard whispers of from the fallen Deer was the same as the princess from his home continent; and therefore, she was one who likely felt comfortable in the knowledge of his supposed demise.

Hah. (What an excellent night to find out the truth.)

He disappears into the crowd, weaving a path to the princess that carefully dances the edges of her peripheral—and it is only at the very end that he frees one of his pearls, clutching it in one hand, the other tapping on her shoulder as he smiles:

“ Excuse me, but are you interested in exchanging charms? ”

Parties like this are always quite the pleasant affair, but sometimes, one must put a pause to being the star of the show in order to let others have their place. It helps to rejuvenate one’s energy so they can shine even brighter afterwards!

Which is how L’Arachel finds herself simply standing around for a bit, a glass of water in her hand, as she observes the merriment around her. Things might not be as traditional as they usually are, but people still seem to be having a wonderful time, even despite the setbacks. It does put a smile on her face to see. Things may change, and hardships might be had, but time ultimately marches forward, and people persevere.

Her musings are cut short by a tap on her shoulder, surely from someone about to compliment how she looks whilst pondering things. A cheerful smile forming, she gracefully turns around.

And finds herself face to face with the antithesis of her thoughts. He had been slain, and time marched forward, and yet here he was, like they were still amidst the scorching Jehannan heat.

She keeps her smile the same as it was as she looks him up and down; He shall not have an ounce of her true thoughts laid plain on her face.

“Excuse me, but are you interested in exchanging charms?”Such a trivially mundane request. It’s topped off with a smile that seems to be more at her rather than with her. Still, if that is all he wants, she shall oblige his game.

“Why of course, that is one of the things we have all set out to do this night, after all.” She takes the pearl off of him as if she were trading with any other person, and places a turtle charm in its stead. “I hope this turtle serves you well! Now, if you shall excuse me, I need to refill my drink.” She points to her nearly empty glass of water, and with a graceful bow, turns around to move away from him.

Valter’s return itself is not troubling. She fears not the man. He had been defeated before, and she is confident there is no way in which he would be able to strike at her during this party and get away with it.

The possibility of other foes making their return, however, does provide more to think about, however. Still, as long as it is on this land, surely there is nothing to fear. With the amount of heroes and fighters and otherwise skilled combatants here, the Demon King’s potential return would surely be short lived.

…right?

Ugh, utterly ridiculous. She straightens out her body as she walks and rolls her eyes at this preposterous thought. This sort of doubt is exactly what Valter expects to achieve, and she shall not be one to play into his hands!

That is assuming that Valter was being malicious here. That is her main assumption, but ‘got brought back from death without his memories’ is a far-out theory that is not completely off the table. Still, she is done pondering this for now. If he wants to occupy her thoughts, she shall just enjoy the ball even more to spite him.

[ilovetheideaofu]

[anankelotus]

“I am… glad you’re alright…” He can’t help but to kneel besides the other man, easier than standing up and scrambling to shaky feet, the twinge of faith magic bubbling at his fingertips despite Valter saying that he was fine.

He can’t help but to care, despite himself.

“I suppose if you are… satisfied… then we should head back to the monastery…” He wonders what satisfaction can be found in battle, he shall never understand it. What people can like Valter can find in the bloodshed and violence. He supposes he is not meant to understand.

It is not for him after all. And it never shall be.

[end]

heavy armor under a heavier sun.

anankelotus​:

Anankos feels as there is nothing there at all as he stares at the fallen armour now in the sand. It is an all too familiar feeling and he stumbles, rolling down the dunes to where Valter stands as he trips. The feeling is only amplified by being closer and he cannot help but to be reminded of the Vallite soldiers forced to fight by the dragon. An empty shell, but still flesh and blood in one way or another.

He feels sick.

“Are you… injured in any way…? I am probably able to heal you if so…” He is not sure if that is what either of them want, though. But he is barely able to force out the words to begin with, the weight of what remained as the armor lay on the ground burdening his very soul as he tried not to remember such a similar feeling emanating from those awful shells of ���people’ revived by his dragon half.

“Were you at least… satisfied by that battle…? Was it what you came out here to seek…? I hope you are not disappointed at all… because I cannot provide any other sort of battle for you if that is the case… I’m sorry…”

What comes next to him is the sound of his breathing, slowly bleeding back in along with the finer sensations of touch and smell. He feels it — the rush — of blood coursing in his veins, pumping through him, alive and deafening, because he had slain the warrior of legend. Just as knew he could.

Then he registers Anankos falling, tripping over himself like a fool. The other’s words register this time around, admitting their weakness, futility, inferiority.

Yes, he was fond of this. Very much fond of this. (Everything was falling into their natural place.)

“ I’m fine, ” he smiles wryly (after all, when did his joy ever seem natural?). Whether there was any truth to it, he’d need the lingering numbness to fade in full, but he had come prepared in case this went too sour anyway. (It did not end up that way of course, but he would not let his vices best him.) “ You needn’t worry about entertaining me; this was satisfactory for now. ”

Of course, he still had to determine a new quarry, but all that in due time. The thrill had still yet to wear off, after all. He was patient. He could wait.

In a way, it was similar to being in Magvel, fighting as one of Grado’s Six Generals, except that this time, his prey hadn’t come close to felling him.

[horrorslvt]

𖹭 ── Lords of chaos.

Øystein "Euronymous" Aarseth.

Nothing yet.

Varg Vikernes.

Nothing yet.

Bård "Faust" Eithun.

Nothing yet.

[fluxrspar]

stones chipped and walls shattered

a drabble: following the events of Epiphany. word count: 1209 words

She had fallen unconscious in the battle to reclaim Garreg Mach.

…or, maybe she had died? (She doesn’t quite recall.) The mages they fought had made their final stand, both sides succumbing in one final clash—and then what? (Blackness.)

Either way, Selena was awake now.

Stumbling her way back to Garreg Mach after awaking in a nearby town—she had thanked her caretaker endlessly, but truly, she needed to go—with her heart set on making certain of just one thing.

(She could only hope it was still there. It was her mistake to have left without it.)

The monastery is emptier without all of its people, she thinks; the first thought, even, after laying eyes on the place again proper. The collection of buildings felt like a hollow shell of what once was, crumbled ruins still being put back together in hope. (Such was the consequence of warfare, so the Fluorspar had known, but it was haunting, after all this time, to truly come face-to-face with it again.) It only tightens the knot in her stomach. Please let it still be there.

(And not found and looted by bandits, or by the monastery’s intruders, or whoever else could’ve come across it.) The path is broken, stones chipped and walls shattered in the battles the land had suffered—but the path is still there, and she knows the way to her office. Though the clicking of her heels does not echo as cleanly, there is still a road beneath them for her to walk.

She rounds the corner to her office, seeming to be one of the less damaged parts of the building. The door is ajar in a way she never would’ve left it, and the room itself is a total mess once she finally makes her way in—and then there is the thick layer of dust that had settled on it all. Perfectly undisturbed, so she would dare to hope; perhaps it was still there. (From a glance, she can tell: some of her supplies would need to be replaced; others simply repaired; the desk is still together.)

Which, for some reason, stops her in her tracks. (She doesn’t even know why, knowing it was a weathered constant in a maelstrom of change; her heart is still pounding.) If it was still together–

Slowly, carefully, she approaches the old wood, rounding to the other side and clutching the handle of one of the drawers. It takes a bit of force to open (and even more will to even start), but it comes loose from its month-long rest, and Selena ventures to take a peek inside.

(It isn’t there.)

In truth, Selena had expected to feel more at the realization—that her fluorspar, left behind so carelessly– Just a month ago, she had stepped outside, assuming it would be safe until she returned to her office; a month ago, she hadn’t known they would be attacked; that a month would pass.

She feels numb. Worse than the dull ache of battles hard-fought still lingering, she feels numb. (Perhaps she really has forsaken her title.) She closes the drawer, and she takes a seat.

It’s gone. (Likely for forever now.) It’s gone and she had left it and it was gone. (His Majesty’s truth and love gone with it; she really has forsaken her purpose.)

She sits there in silent contemplation—gone forever. (She had tried to build something new in Fódlan, yes, but she sours at the feeling that the most tangible part of her history was gone forever.) It’s sickening; nauseating, almost; terribly dreadful to understate—

There is a hollow knock at the door.

Selena doesn’t look up, instead allowing her head to sit upon the top of her desk as she wallows. She doesn’t care that the door was still open anyway and whoever was in the hallway could see her in all her misery; so what if she was human? The whole lot of them were. (There is silence.)

Then footsteps approaching, wordless, but Selena does not have the might to face them. A light shadow casts itself, but that is all—a slow whistle, and then:

“ That’s pathetic of you. ”

Her head snaps up—because there is only one person that could be, but so soon? Already? (She had only just arrived, and already Valter was making a nuisance of himself; at a time where she felt so low–)

“ You know, I might’ve had some respect for you not dying out there, ” and it is said as lightly as if he were discussing the weather, “ but this reminds me why I never did. ”

“You never change.”

Selena doesn’t think before she speaks, but it is the truth, she realizes. Here she was, in shambles, mourning the death of a self that could never be again; weighed down by all that she had lost; still thinking she is wont to violence– (Because Sea Fire was all-consuming–)

And here stood the Moonstone, as though the monastery had never been attacked. (As though it had never fallen.) Selena clenches her jaw.

“ Is that a bad thing? ” he replies slyly, another slow whistle following as he twirls a finger through his hair. “ Better to never change than to fall like a pile of pebbles at the slightest inconvenience. ”

“Get out of my office.”

He raises an eyebrow, seemingly amused by her response—a hum. “ I’ll pass. ”

You never change. Always so aggravating, out to get under her skin—and at present, she would rather feel numb than suffer the boiling of her blood at the sight of him: nonchalant, as though nothing had changed, as though they were still in Grado–

(Ah.) Now that was a bizarre thought to occur.

Not in the comment of his constancy, but when Selena thinks of home—her first one, her forever one, if she ever had the chance to return (if her blood was not forsaken with her gemstone)—she cannot help but think of the war; she cannot help but think of what changed.

And the appalling thought is that Selena had died a traitor to her ideals; but so far as she had known, following his reinstatement, Valter had never truly betrayed the crown. (The new Vigarde had never once scorned him; he had never questioned his loyalty and obedience.)

That sickening feeling tastes like vomit.

And she hates that she’s staring, the horror of it all cracking through the ice of her features; and Valter, as though he could read her mind, cracks a wry smile of his own in return.

She looks away, and her voice is hardly over a mumble. “Just leave…”

He doesn’t respond, only that Selena can feel his eyes watching her. Then, after sufficient pause, there is a hum of satisfaction—and he finally leaves. (She should close the door and lock it, the knight thinks to herself, but knowing the state of the monastery’s infrastructure, she wouldn’t be surprised if the lock was in too terrible of a condition to continue functioning.) Instead, she sits at her desk, and she stares at the ceiling, and she thinks.

(About war and violence; peace and stillness; what it means to bend until you break; what it means to be the Emperor’s shield, not his sword.)

She truly does hate Valter. That’s all she can decide.

[ilovetheideaofu]

Valter liked this clip of Alex on Jimmy Fallon on Instagram!

.

[goldoanheart]

"Oh, I see!" Kurthnaga has to keep his eye from twitching in annoyance, because he knows exactly the kind of man Valter - his dear husband - is. The kind of man who would threaten someone to shoot them with a ballista, one that was sitting right in front of them as they spoke at that. Violent and unabashedly so.

The exact opposite of Kurthnaga, who loathed violence of any kind at all. The one who would probably rejoice at blood being spilled versus Kurthnaga who could not help but to cower even at the slightest hint of it. Sometimes, he even got sick at the thought of blood being spilt on the battlefield, or even off of it.

Kurthnaga follows Valter's eyes, feeling his annoyance grow by the minute, even if their fiery overlord refused to allow him to show it. The things he would do if he was allowed to defy his... HUSBAND...

"The sunset?" He hates how stupid this elemental is making him look. He was naive, sure, but he wasn't this much of an airhead! Right?! At least... he didn't think he was, "It is rather beautiful, isn't it dear husband? But you don't think it's prettier than me... do you?"

ARRGHAHGHAHGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!

*Through Gritted Teeth* Honey I'm Home!

[happypanda101]

It goes unnoticed by the scowling teen, but something in taunting blue eyes shift. Playful smile dropping slightly. Before she knows it, the shadow of Emperor's tallest member looms over her. Trapping her in a blanket of shadow as he lumbers over to the aisle she’s in. Sudden pressure against her forehead make Nora’s eyes cast upward, seeing how the man’s brows furrow as a rough hand pushes against her warm skin, holding still for a moment.

“You’re sweating.”

“Oh, I had no idea.”

He makes a face, pulling back. “Are you sick?”

The mixed matched haired girl swallows thickly. “Yes, I am.”

Blue eyes narrow in on the the smaller teen judgingly. “Then why the fuck did you show up?”

Little snippet for the oneshot I’m working on for my Lords Of Chaos fanfic before I actually try to take a shot at writing the fic.

I liked the idea of making little pieces that don’t really fit into the fic into a little series to lighten all the angst that’s most likely/will happen lmao.

Anyway, Faust being himself but actually caring for once. Nora just wants to work even though she feels like shit (she’s sick). He wants her to go lie the fuck down.

And as always-

Please note: Lords Of Chaos is an inaccurate movie based off of an inaccurate book based on real people and real events. I don't condone anything that happened. This fic is the closest I will get to RPF, and is only because I'm interested in the black metal scene/like the music. This is just for fun because the movie is a guilty pleasure of mine.

[obsidiendo]

"Sir Duessel!"

What a relief it was to see the knight once more at his side. It was not seeming to be a dire situation, but there was something comforting about the man's presence - his staid bearing, his quiet confidence. Things Dimitri wanted to emulate, as best he could.

"I had not expected to see you participate in this - but I am glad of it! Please even more to see that we appear to be on the same side. I hope that we can...er. Bring our team to victory?"

It wasn't exactly a game, but it wasn't exactly not. The situation felt rather rushed, and if Dimitri were honest his head spun from the influx of information that they'd received over the last couple of hours.

Still, he did his best to smile. If they were to have an audience, it was the least he could do.

Duessel was originally unsure if he should come on this expedition. He had argued with himself that this was something of a vacation -- a way to relax, to unwind. He felt that there was too much to do at the monastery and he should not spend this time on himself.

He was, of course, on some level in desperate need of a break. He had spent so much of the last few months rebuilding and working towards bettering the school -- this was the reprieve he deserved.

And he was quite glad to see Dimitri held the same sentiment.

"I'm sure we will," he said. The moniker of 'snakes' brought forth an unbidden image of a certain general of Grado, but he pushed it aside -- surely this was just a random assignment. "I trust you're settling in well? Walk with me, if you would like. We can get a feel for the island."

[pridelessdaydreamer]

🧃"Hmm... I'm sure you can be up and about helping in here the med tent..."

Weary eyes look up from the cot where Linhardt had placed themself upon arrival. If they were a more dedicated lazy person, perhaps they would’ve given themself some fake injuries to boot on top of their real ones—but with how they got healed after arriving, they were clearly in working condition.

“Anyone can do that though,” Linhardt points out, stretching out before rolling over. “I don’t see why I should after all the work I already put in out there fighting…”

[nohrslittleflower]

The counterattack had hit hard, but she managed to stop the both of them from spiraling into the ground, at least. Or, Barbie did mostly. She was just pulling on reigns and hoping it would work out.

Either way, a victory! And the other guy got the scary lady down! Two victories! That’s more than one! Even better!!

Oh hey one of their teammates is getting up again. She could’ve sworn it looked like she was gonna be down for the rest of the round again. That’s good. Good for her. Three victories. Yay.

Though she does kinda feel bad for their other teammate. What is this, the third time now?? Whoever is in charge of these illusions must not like her.

…or the other healer, apparently. Despite being at the other end of the arena, she winces. That looked like it hurt. A lot.

Elise [6/10 HP] heals Arval [1/10 HP] with Recover! (1d20 —> 15) +6 HP.Arval [7/10 HP]

A pat to the head of the wyvern and a point to the target, and she takes off yet again. This time landing gently beside said target, rather than slamming an axe into their skull. That would be counterproductive in the whole ‘trying to help’ thing. And also not very nice.

Fortunately, despite being given the rest of her big sister’s equipment, she manages to find her staff stashed away in place of where a tome would typically reside. (Thankfully. She isn’t sure what she’d do if she was stuck only attacking again.) “I dunno what you did or how you did it, but if she can’t go down then neither can you! You got this! …Whatever ‘this’ is!”

all I hear is the sound of us winning with the power of friendship woo yeah go team @laruarva

tough decisions are tough

Team 10 Gold Round

[cleversteel]

COLM!! in Fódlan

source: shadoll

GENDER. Male (he/him)

AGE. 18

HEIGHT. 5’9” (175 cm)

BIRTHDATE. 9th of the Garland Moon (June 9th)

CREST/HOLY BLOOD. None 

CLASS. Black Eagles Student!

AFFILIATION. The Kingdom of Renais

BIOGRAPHY. A thief who hails from a village razed to the ground. He has a pure heart and tries to put his skills to more positive uses, even if he occasionally makes some... questionable decisions. Awoke in Fódlan after stealing something he probably shouldn’t have, later wandering from Adrestia to the Officers Academy and enrolling there.

PERSONAL HISTORY

785 - Born to a couple of common blood in the village of Lark in Renais.

788 - Befriends Neimi, another from the village of Lark. Is at her a side a year later when her mother passes away.

803 - The War of the Stones begins, and Lark is later attacked and burned down by Bazba’s Bandits. He joins Eirika’s army after successfully stealing back Neimi’s mirror.

803 - The war ends. Not too long after, he mysteriously awakens in Fódlan and enrolls in the Officers Academy.

INTERESTS. Protecting Neimi, thievery, medicine LIKES. Neimi, michew berries, home, herbs, stealing, marshmallows, food in general DISLIKES. Losing, lowly bandits, those who endanger the helpless, being underestimated, Lloyd (derogatory) STATUS. Black Eagles Student CLOSE ALLIES: Neimi, Pelleas, Kiran

DINING HALL PREFERENCES

LIKES. Beast Meat Teppanyaki, Saghert and Cream, Fish and Bean Soup, Sautéed Jerky, Sweet and Salty Whitefish Sauté, Sweet Bun Trio, Fruit and Herring Tart, Garreg Mach Meat Pie, Peach Sorbet, Two-Fish Sauté, Gronder Meat Skewers, Vegetable Stir-Fry, Bourgeois Pike DISLIKES. Vegetable Pasta Salad, Small Fish Skewers, Country-Style Red Turnip Plate, Super-Spicy Fish Dango, Pickled Seafood and Dango, Daphnel Stew, Fried Crayfish

DINING HALL NOTES

DEFAULT. ✧

“Always happy to share a meal with friends!”

FAVORITE DISH.  ✧

“Hey, I really like this dish! Do you like it too?”

LEAST FAVORITE DISH.  ✧

“Well, I… uh… haha…”

WITH EPHRAIM.  ✧

“Oh, I should tell Kyle about this!”

WITH KIRAN.  ✧

“Oh, Rose, you should try this! It’s really tasty!”

WITH NEIMI.  ✧

“Isn’t the food here great? I figured you’d like it.”

WITH PELLEAS.  ✧

“If you don’t want your food, I’ll gladly take it! Oh, we could trade! You can have some of my vegetables!”

WITH VALTER.  ✧

“(Ah, shoot. How’d I end up sharing a meal with this guy?!)”

TEA TIME GUIDE

FAVORITE TEA. Sweet-Apple Blend, Southern Fruit Blend, Honeyed-Fruit Blend CONVERSATION TOPICS. A place you’d like to visit, children at the market, close calls, cooking mishaps, exploring the monastery, I’m counting on you, our first meeting, past laughs, reliable allies, school days, someone you look up to, tell me about yourself, thanks for everything, the view from the bridge, working hours for guards, working together, you’re doing well, your ambitions, cats, a dinner invitation, favorite sweets, food in the Dining Hall, shareable snacks, strange fish in the pond, hopes for your future, monastery mysteries, likeable allies

TEA TIME QUOTES

GREETING.  ✧

(1) “Hey, Professor! I made it!” (2) “I was pretty quick, wasn’t I?” (3) “I’m not a HUGE tea person, but I don’t mind!”

FAVORITE TEA.  ✧

“Oh, this one smells nice!”

FIVE STAR TEA.  ✧

“Wow, this smells expensive!”

BEING OBSERVED.  ✧

(1) “Hm? Do I have something on my face?” (2) “Oh, do you like my earrings? I pierced them myself! It was… ahaha… not my finest work.” (3) “My mom used to describe my ponytail as a ‘dove tail.’ I admit, I still get kinda sentimental sometimes when I think about it.”

QUIPS.  ✧

“Huh?” “Really?” “Wow.” “(Laughter)” “How about this?” “Did ya hear?”

ENDING.  ✧

“I had a lot of fun! You should invite me again sometime.”

FINAL COMMENTS.  ✧

(1) Back in when I was in the army, we had a Father in our troops who blamed me for setting his extra clothes on fire. Twice. Crazy, right? ANSWER: Nod, Laugh (2) A close friend of mine once lost something precious to her, so I stole it back for her. I could tell she was really worried, but I wasn’t going to let those bandits keep it! ANSWER: Agree, Commend (3) Man, candy is really tasty! I wish I could have some all the time... ANSWER: Disagree, Admonish (4) This place is really nice... Since I’m living here though, I don’t intend to borrow anything. ANSWER: Praise, Admonish (5) I really like it here, but... well, I kinda miss my friends from home. ANSWER: Nod, Chat

MISCELLANEOUS DIALOGUE.

GIFT GUIDE

FAVORITE GIFTS. Owl Feather, Tasty Baked Treat, Watering Can, Hunting Dagger, Legends of Chivalry, Forget-me-nots, Ceremonial Sword DISLIKED GIFTS. Watering Can, Training Weights, Monarch Studies Book, Coffee Beans

GIFT QUOTES

DISLIKED GIFT.  ✧

“Ahaha...”

LIKED GIFT.  ✧

“Thanks! This is nice!”

FAVORITE GIFT.  ✧

“Oh, this is REALLY nice. Thanks a lot!”

LOST ITEMS

SPARE EARRING. A golden earring in the style of a ring. It’s not real gold, but it still looks really nice. Likely belongs to someone who likes jewelry but doesn’t like to spend. Location found: Training Grounds. BEGINNER’S GUIDE TO MEDICINAL HERBS. A book detailing basic information on various plants and herbs that any apothecary ought to know. Likely belongs to someone with an interest in plants and medicine. Location found: Fishing Pond. BAG OF TREATS. A bag of baked goods with varying degrees of sweetness. Likely belongs to someone with a sweet tooth. Location found: Dining Hall.

LOST ITEM QUOTES 

OWNER.  ✧

“Oh, you found it! Thanks for getting this back to me.”

NOT OWNER.  ✧

“It’s nice, but... not mine, sorry. I could help you find the owner though!”

BATTLE QUOTES

MOCK BATTLE RETREAT.  ✧

“Shoot... Sorry guys!”

FIRST KILL.  ✧

“Whoa... Haha...”

MONASTERY QUOTES

CHOIR PRACTICE.  ✧

(1) “Haha... I am not really a singer...” (2) “Welp, here goes nothing!”

COOKING.  ✧

(1) “Okay, let’s do this whole cooking thing!” (2) “My mom always did it like this...!” (3) “And bam! Easy.”

TUTORING

INSTRUCT

BAD.  ✧

“Wait, really?” Critique: Gah... No need to be so harsh...! Console: Yeah, I got this! I’ll definitely get it next time!

GREAT.  ✧

“I know, I know. I’m just that guy!” “That was easy!”

PERFECT.  ✧

“It was nothing.” PRAISE. “Aw, thanks, Professor. You’re not that bad a teacher, you know!”

TASKS

STABLE DUTY. ✧

“Now how did Neimi do it again?”

WEEDING.  ✧

“Gah... I HATE weeding!”

SKY WATCH.  ✧

“Whoa... Okay! We are REALLY high up!”

CERTIFICATION EXAMS FAILED.  ✧

“Aha... I probably should’ve paid more attention in class...”

PASSED.  ✧

“Hah. Light work!”

SWORD.  ✧

“I’m not physically the strongest, but I am really accurate! That’s why I learned the sword as a self-defense weapon! I figured that, since I’m at a military school and stuff, I could maybe get better!”

BOW.  ✧

“A close friend of mine was an archer, just like her grandfather before her. They were AMAZING, and I want to be like them. So, I’m taking up the bow!”

LANCE + RIDING.  ✧

“I’m pretty light on my feet, but horses are pretty good too! The way they can carry you across a whole field in a fraction of the time...! Oh, and of course, I’ll be learning the lance as well. I’m not really good at it, but I’m gonna need it to pass the exam, right?”

LEVEL UP

0 TO 1 STATS UP .  ✧

“Not my best work.”

2 TO 3 STATS UP .  ✧

“Hey, it’s better than nothing!”

4-5 STATS UP .  ✧

“Always improving!”

6+ STATS UP .  ✧

“Impressed?”

UPON REACHING LEVEL 99 .  ✧

“Wow, I’m incredible! I bet no one could stop me now!”

BUDDING TALENT

“Huh. Who’d’ve thought?”

NEW SKILL

“Ooh, a neat new trick!”

RECLASSING .  ✧

“Hey, I’m adaptable!”

BATTLE QUOTES

WHEN SELECTED

FULL/HIGH HP .  ✧

“You got it!”

MEDIUM HP .  ✧

“I’m good. Don’t worry about me.”

LOW HP .  ✧

“Okay, I might need a bit of help here...!”

ENEMY DEALS 1 OR NO DAMAGE OR MISSES .  ✧

“Nope!”

CRITICAL ATTACK .  ✧

“Sorry about this!” “Light work.” “And here we go!” “Guaranteed results!”

GAMBIT .  ✧

“I’ve got an idea!”

GAMBIT BOOST .  ✧

“I’ve got your back!”

DEFEATED ENEMY .  ✧

“Whoops! Should’ve been better, I guess.” “Haha! Take that!” “Good luck beating me!”

ALLY DEFEATS ENEMY .  ✧

“Nice work!” “Glad you’re on our side!” “You’re pretty good!”

ALLY HEALS/RALLIES .  ✧

“Thanks!” “I appreciate it!” “I’ll pay you back later.”

DEFEAT QUOTE

CASUAL .  ✧

“Gotta admit, I can’t keep going much longer. I’m just gonna fall back here. You guys keep going, okay?”

CLASSIC .  ✧

“No... Nei...mi...”

THE ADVICE BOX

“I really like it here at the monastery and I’ve made a lot of friends, but sometimes, I miss my friends back home. What should I do?” > You should write letters home! It might not cure your homesickness, but they’ll at least know you’re thinking of them. > Try and recreate what you liked about your homeland and share that with your friends here! You might be away from home, but you can still bring it with you here! > You should try and visit whenever you get a break from school! Nothing beats actually being with the people you care about most. (Correct Answer)

[foreversnightmare]

(o・・o)/ they met once at the ball that's basically enough to have an opinion i think

opinions of you - closed

Though their meeting was short, Freyja finds Valter... funny. It was her only source of enjoyment back when they were stuck at that ball... honestly one of the worst times of her life (behind you know, dying.)

Hes 100% not sane, no where close in fact. Yet he's not the kind of human that she would hate-- and still actively does. Hes fine, for now.

[swiftlance]

She gives him a flat stare. Ain't no point wastin' either her breath or energy on this conversation if'n he's gonna act like this. Emotional? Oh, he's horrible.

"Yeah, well, someone's distractin' me from doin' my job properly." She should stop talkin'; this guy makes twistin' words a sport. "Battles are all about emotions. I've fought more guys angry 'bout some made up offense than I can count."

Nephenee stares at her shovel, the dirt arrayed all around her, the half-empty sandbag. She makes no move to continue with her chore, too worked up about their conversation to focus on anthin' else.

"Least yer honest 'bout yer motives. I hope the fight don't get this far; these kids are supposed ta be safe." Huh. If he's so eager for bloodshed, what's keepin' him here?

Don't matter. She huffs, resumin' her work. The only sound for a moment is the rasp of sand and dirt fallin' inta the sandbag.

"It's clear we don't agree on the subject. But," she replies, turnin' and facin' him head on, "so long as you don't harm any of us stayin' here in the monastery, I won't hold anythin' 'gainst ya."

Defense Preparations

Mission Board: Fracture, +1 Lance

[fluxrspar]

if that could be.

a drabble: for selena’s birthday this year, preceding this. word count: 711 words

It was uneventful, all things considered—not that Selena was surprised to realize that. Though a big deal could be made out of birthdays, they did not erase the necessity for work to be completed: tomorrow would come, and she would deal with the consequences of today. As such, she was in her office as per usual, tending to her assignments–

A knock at the door. She would much rather open it herself, but in the interest of maintaining her workflow: “Come in.”

The door opens, and there is a shift in the air—even before she looks, the Fluorspar recognizes who it is. A ghost of a man:

Valter.

Eyes move up to meet his; moons sparkle as he says: “ Did you miss me? ”

Of course it’s him. (‘Of course’?) Actually, it would make infinitely more sense for him to be anywhere else: Magvel, causing more havoc; some other continent, doing the same. Selena can hardly believe the king of Renais chose to study here with this man around—then again, perhaps Ephraim didn’t care. Clearly, he and his allies must’ve beaten the Moonstone before.

“What are you doing here?” (And she stands, not allowing herself to be looked down upon.)

“ Is it a crime to wish a colleague of mine a happy birthday? I thought we were friends, you know. ” (He smiles, and it sickens her.)

“You think to call us ‘friends’?” No, stop. Don’t indulge him. (It’s a difficult thought to heed; to think, after everything that he’s done—to her, to her friends, to Grado.) Eyes narrow:

“Get out.”

“ So soon? I haven’t even given you your gift yet. ”

And before she can respond, he glides over to her; grabs her wrist and presses something into her hand. A box, she can tell—finely wrapped and ribboned.

“ Happy birthday, Selena, ” the Moonstone smiles, and then: he is gone.

Just as quickly as he came. She couldn’t even claim to be surprised. That was always his method—to appear suddenly and without warning, stir up some mayhem, and then leave; free of consequence. Selena supposes that if there was one thing constant, there is him. Unfortunately.

Still, his gift in her hand, however much it irked her to receive it. He hadn’t given her anything two years ago, back during the war—she didn’t expect anything good from him now either. Stepping to the door again, she confirms that he is gone.

Shaken to disturb but not to break, she hears nothing, but she can feel the weight of its contents. Cushioned likely, she imagines, though it may also be filled with something… unsightly. (Like insects or spiders.) There was also the chance that some magic had been cast upon it, but that possibility was too unpleasant to imagine.

Or perhaps this is just one of his mind games, and it is completely innocuous after all. (She opens the box.)

It was packed, the box filled with fabric to keep whatever was within hidden—(it was almost as though he meant to torture her with the effort needed to open it). Removing the top layer though, at last, the present is revealed—and for a moment, she does not breathe.

A fluorspar, she knows instantly, except that it is artistically shattered.

It is subconsciously that her hand glides to her side, before Selena remembers it is no longer kept there. (She could not bear to be asked about it—to explain her past and all that she’d done.) She does not remember walking behind her desk, opening the drawer with too much force: it’s still there. (Intact.) Just as she had left it.

She should've noticed they were different anyhow—the broken fluorspar was duller, the hue just slightly bluer than hers. It was a fluorspar no less, and yet—it was different in soul, in spirit, in value. Perhaps that was intentional; Selena couldn’t claim to know that man’s thoughts anyway.

The dark thought comes that she shouldn’t have worried anyhow—after all, it was not as though she deserved the title anymore. She was forced to choose between her lord and her oath, and she had chosen incorrectly (she had no choice, really). She was the Fluorspar no more—just Selena, if that could be.

The drawer is closed—gently, this time—and his gift is tossed artistically into the trash.