viridescent-lance

[viridescent-lance]

May activity check: passed!

skill points: 60->61

lance: S(2)->S+

obtained: all the rest of the lance stuff

[viridescent-lance]

There is no warning, no announcement, no threat of his approach; only that at one moment, everything is as it should be, and at the next? There is Valter, hand on Forsyth’s shoulder, a maniacal grin on his face.

“ Hello there, Forsyth, ” he greets, eyes glinting like the pearl he is adorned with. His smile widens as he leans in just a bit further—

“ Dance with me. ”

(And then he makes to drag the other man to the dance floor with him, not a hint of reservation on display.)

He creeps up like a silent predator, its quarry locked with perfect focus. Forsyth doesn't notice him until the hand is on his shoulder, that sinister voice hastening the speed with which he whirls around.

"Valter..." He has long since lost the privileges of a title. That this villain still works for the Church brings Forsyth great concern. His true nature must be obvious to most, yes? "You..."

Valter traps Forsyth in a social dance as much as a physical one--he will be seen as terribly rude if he denies him, and he does not trust the faux knight not to kick up a worse fuss. He--

Oh. He does not seem to have a choice.

Forsyth does his best to wrest control away, leading them across the room with a strained smile on his face. It's a struggle between men, but it passes for a dance to onlookers. Probably.

"So, are you enjoying the night?" Forsyth huffs with the effort of holding Valter back, his tone all false cheer. "This estate is grand, the food plentiful, and the company a delight."

While he's at it, he manages to nick a pearl from the man. May as well. It's a wonder he got into the ball to begin with.

[viridescent-lance]

There's a face Yarne hadn't seen in a... while.

Yarne still remembers him being hurt out of his mind with his hurt other half found dead, Yarne taking care to be gentle in the meetings.

That was so long ago... even without the whole 'skipped year' thing.

But Yarne still wanted to check on him.

He could see the figure he was supposed to protect (the one Yarne failed to, elsewhere as Yarne softly moves by the tall green figure (though Yarne was still a bit taller,) hand gently raised in greeting.

"Hey, Forsyth! I... it's been a bit."

Those... eyes were hollow. Hollow like they had been before, when Python had been found to not return to the village at nightfall, but... more distant.

Like something more recent had come up.

Was it the siege? He didn't know. Couldn't know.

But that was for later. This wasn't the time to push for emotional honesty.

That could come later.

"...Swap?"

Yarne pulls his turtle pin off of his ear, placing it in his hand, extending it for Forsyth to take, if he desired.

Oh! Forsyth hasn't seen Yarne in quite some time, but he could never forget the bond they'd forged in that wretched illusory land. He briefly wonders what kind of experience he'd had during the fall before banishing the thought from his mind. Best to make their interaction positive.

"Yarne! It is good to see you. Are you well?" Yarne isn't very good at hiding his worry, and those ears of his don't help. But he pushes on past it, just like Forsyth does. He's a good kid. Forsyth really does need to check in with him more often. "Of course. Here you are."

A pearl replaces the turtle on Yarne's bangle, and Forsyth broadens his smile. It's sweet to see the way he's integrating himself into this event. He's always so jumpy and nervous, he deserves a good night for himself. They all do, after everything.

"You know, if you'd ever like to test your mettle against an armored foe, I'd be glad to help." Sparring is useful and emotionally honest without having to say a word if both parties so choose. With the concern in Yarne's eyes, it feels wrong to just leave him like this, but he can't bring down the mood. So this will have to do. "Maybe at the end of the night we can compare charms? Whoever's gotten more gets advantage."

[viridescent-lance]

[ SEVEN MINUTES IN HELL ] continued from here (somehow. dw about it.)

The refuse that spews from Azama's mouth is usually metaphorical, but Forsyth can barely hold back a gag at that horrible odor. He swallows, breathing through his mouth as inconspicuously as he can. The monk's audacity continues to amaze.

"It's been fair, thus far." About as well as Azama's seems to be going, he suspects. Not that he needs to know. And of course, he just has to ask about Python. Not even about! For! "We came together, but I'm not his keeper."

(Azama hasn't been able to see him, much less dance with him. That, at least, is something.)

"If you have a message, I'd be happy to relay it," he lies. An elbow from another dancer hits square, and the churning does not halt. It'd be hard to detach from Azama if he wanted to, though such a cowardly way out is unacceptable. "If not, I'm sure you know where he tends to roam during these events."

(Does he?)

As the mass of dancing bodies pushes them closer to the wall, Forsyth reaches subtly for a mint from a nearby table, stuffing one into his pockets. And several more, for good measure.

He is punished for his thoughtfulness almost immediately.

The moment of distraction leaves him wide open for a push, sending him stumbling toward a back closet. The one saving grace is his grip on Azama holds firm, consigning both of them to an embarrassing spill.

The door, eager to pile on misfortune, swings shut before Forsyth can question exactly why this closet is so terribly empty.

Click.

For whom does the lock toll? In Forsyth and Azama's case, the answer is thee.

hell is what we make of it

[viridescent-lance]

[ SWEPT AWAY ] -> [ CAVES ] starter for @aimlessarchery and @deliverred

Forsyth had been hoping for a lively outing with friends and coworkers, a little indulgence in these trying times. That's how it started, at least--he'd danced with Python and Lukas, partook in fanciful drink and food, and allowed himself to relax for once.

When the storm hits, he snaps back to reality, his duty as a knight overpowering any drink in his system or lingering stress from less-than-ideal encounters. He directs soggy students to the manor, handing out towels and offering minor first aid. Python probably would rather be inside, but Forsyth won't be able to forgive himself if something happens that he could have prevented.

Especially not when, some time in, Lukas is still among those unaccounted for.

"We can't leave without him." Not again. The storm still howls, though it approaches a lull. Forsyth looks to the horizon, hoping fruitlessly once more that he will spot a glimmer of red, that he will see Lukas dragging himself to safety. "With his armor weighing him down, I worry... I'm going out to look for him."

It's a statement, not a question. Those with flying steeds cannot safely search with lightning still flashing in the skies, and the on-duty knights are spread thin. Time is of the essence, the storm only threatening to grow worse--if Lukas is out there, who knows what could befall him. What could have already befallen him.

The two trudge up the shoreline, the rain slowing to a drizzle.The waves have receded for now, though they lap at the sands as if to prepare for another meal, having spat out various remains of what was once a thriving seaside celebration. Forsyth hastens his pace, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of life.

Even in the dimming light, the slumped-over body catches Forsyth's watchful eye almost immediately, and he sprints as fast as he can. The pale figure is mostly unclothed, left to freeze in the storm.

"Lukas! Lukas!" Forsyth doesn't know whether to feel relief or dread when his suspicions are realized--this is his dear friend, washed up on the shore. He drops to his knees in front of him, turning him over and checking his pulse. He's alive. Alive. But... "Python, I don't know if he's breathing."

"Stay with me. Please." He can't panic. He can't. Gently, he tilts Lukas's head back, trying not to wince when he sees the crusted blood of a recent head wound. He presses his hands Their lips meet in a desperate attempt to pull breath from his lungs, once, twice.

naked and a cave. is this anything.

[viridescent-lance]

It's easy enough to notice other people who are like him— clearly aiming to collect trinkets for the Ethereal Ball with more fervor than the average person. Finding those types makes Leif's job easier usually, and so once the man's finished his current conversation, Leif goes to approach him. That is, that was the intent but...

“ Would you like to trade charms? I'm looking to collect a lot of pearls, so yours could help— ”

Looking at the man up close, something clicks into place. His eyes widen ever so slightly.

“ Oh! I saw you in Rusalka! ”  That's what it was! He's sure of it.  “ Well, you were asleep. But you were one of the people we had to guard and something had happened to you, didn't it? More than the others... ”

This polite young man seems to have been waiting Forsyth as if he was in line for his attention. He offers a pearl, which Forsyth could use, but his eagerness turns to something slightly different, recognition cresting across his face.

Forsyth himself cannot place him, but it seems there is a reason for that: the lad had been on the guard team with Python, all that time ago. He feels his mood drop at the mention of his reckless failure during that mission, memories of death cascading through carefully constructed mental barriers.

"Ah...yes." Forsyth fumbles for a pearl on his bracelet, hoping his smile seems genuine. There's no reason to trouble the young man with his problems, though he seems so curious about what had happened. "While death was not permanent in the dreamscape, it inflicted damage upon the victim's physical body."

Cheery conversation for a party, isn't it? But it feels wrong to leave him without an answer, so Forsyth explains about as plainly as he can. It would eat at him, too.

Python surely saw the aftermath of both his deaths...they've never talked about it, though, not explicitly. Easier to just hold each other, to cherish the life that they still carry, against all odds. Yes, easier indeed...

"Apologies, here is your pearl." Forsyth's gaze is distant, lost in a tangled swirl of thoughts. He smiles once again, though the sadness is impossible to mask. "I hope it serves you well. Good luck with your mission."

[viridescent-lance]

ball engagements

Forsyth is attending the ball with Python, and is rather excited to participate. He has a Pearl, and is eagerly seeking other charm-havers to exchange with.

He's still a bit off his game from the aftermath of the event, but he's had some time to recover, so he isn't a complete wreck outwardly (emphasis on outwardly) and is able to come across cheerfully again. Still, he may seem more tense than normal, while simultaneously trying to throw himself into socializing as a way to distract himself from his constant hyper-vigilance. He is doing super duper normal!

Checklist of charms and Forsyth's outfit are beneath the cut. Art by Maddie!

seashell:

starfish:

anchor:

turtle: yarne

pearl: leif

[viridescent-lance]

For a glamorous networking event like the Ethereal Ball, many wealthy partygoers have planned their outfits and accessories well in advance. However, with a break in tradition and a change in venue, concerns arise that heavy dresses, outfits with metal components, and traditional upscale jewelry might be at best inconvenient and at worst completely ruined by the salty, seaside air. Those in need of an outfit might be able to get one for cheap by picking up one of the 'rejects', which a few enterprising young merchants have assembled in one second-hand shop, but so much of it is so heavily weighted down it might be an additional challenge to even wear it the night of... Better get to practicing if you're on a budget! [Grants Heavy Armor +1] starter for @magisciple

Despite everything, life goes on. Forsyth cannot say he has been doing fantastic, but he and Python are alive, the miracle has not been rescinded, and he has busied himself going on with life rebuilding the monastery. Day in, day out, things slowly return to the norm. Smiles feel less forced, and passion colors the world anew.

The ball awaits, the joy and excitement of the students overflowing despite the venue change. Forsyth can't help but feel the infectious anticipation, but with the destruction of his quarters came the ruin of his formalwear.

He doesn't need to seek a replacement. He could simply attend in armor, guarding the ballgoers from harm while partaking in the social element. But the normalcy it brings is alluring, and Python will be contractually obligated to wear something nice if Forsyth does. So here he is, surveying some hand-me-downs that could compliment his plans.

A flash of orange and yellow, a gradient like a flame. Forsyth turns his head, and is met with a familiar face he's not seen in many a moon.

"Ho! Is that really you, Luthier?"

Forsyth cannot say he knows the the man all too well. A mage who joined the Deliverance in search of his missing sister, and chose to continue serving. He kept to himself, as opposed to his more extroverted sister. Forsyth had always wished he had spent more time encouraging prosocial behavior among the remaining Deliverance members, especially ones who would benefit so.

"What fate it is that we've found ourselves in the same faraway land! What brings you here, friend?" It's never too late to rekindle the spark of camaraderie! The man still looks away from others, ignoring the attempts of friendly merchants in favor of his books. Books that Forsyth recognizes as...belonging to magic instructors at Garreg Mach. Oho! "Ah! I see we even serve the same monastery. Do you have an outfit for the upcoming ball?"

The Mother's memory truly smiles upon Forsyth, even in trying times.

unskippable coworker cutscene

[viridescent-lance]

april activity check: hiatus

[viridescent-lance]

march activity check: passed!

skill points: 58->60

lance: S->S(2) (monthly, boel participation)

[viridescent-lance]

Yunaka's irritation is palpable even with her continued lackadaisy--Forsyth is all too familiar with this kind of behavior. At least she'd shown up to the battle at all, but to treat it with this kind of flippancy...!

"Of course I am 'gung-ho,' as you put it. To put forth anything less than my best would be to show the monastery disrespect!" Forsyth takes another blow from her, light but an impact. She's trying to wear him down, a tactic he's seen time and time before. He trusts in his stamina, and his axe. "If you won't take this seriously...!"

Forsyth 2.5/6HP misses Yunaka 1/5HP [Roll: 2]

Oh. Well, that's embarrassing. That was supposed to be the big hurrah. The lesson. Uh. Surely, he'll get another swing.

birdbrains say what? ...wait, what?

boel round 1 battle 12 : black eagles vs golden deer

[viridescent-lance]

Forsyth's fears are proven correct, and Edelgard takes down Forde with a swift, precise strike. He'd love to avenge him, but as the battlefield shifts, he finds himself in front of Yunaka again, while Shez faces down Edelgard.

"I promised Lady Edelgard a fair fight. I respect her to prove her strength without special treatment, and you should as well." Forsyth frowns at the woman. He dislikes conduct like this immensely, especially coming from someone who's clearly capable. "Regardless of the outcome, she has clearly excelled. I'd expect her professor to acknowledge that rather than resort to bargaining on the cusp of defeat!"

Forsyth 3/6HP hits Yunaka 3.5/5HP [Roll: 8] [-2.5HP] Yunaka 1/5HP

Forsyth's axe lands true, the impact far greater than her previous unwieldy strike. Axes may struggle against swords, but armor makes a great difference. Even if that armor is...less than aesthetically appealing.

(Forsyth can just hear Python's wolf whistle at his current appearance.)

"See? Your house leader is faring far better than you are at the moment. I'd worry about yourself before her." Sorry, Shez. But Forsyth has to hand it to Edelgard.

@hresvelged

birdbrains say what? ...wait, what?

boel round 1 battle 12 : black eagles vs golden deer

[viridescent-lance]

The teams roam the battlefield, dodging attempts to reengage. Forsyth is frustrated, but this tends to happen in exhibition matches. Forsyth keeps his eyes on the opponents, only pausing briefly to adjust the antlers on his head.

Forsyth 3.5/6HP rotates team left (Forsyth - Forde - Shez (F) -> Forde - Shez (F) - Forsyth)

Yunaka and Shez continue their banter, and Edelgard scans the battlefield, looking for her next target. Forsyth tries to stay on her flank, but she's drawing dangerously close to Forde...

@renaisguy @dcggersedge @zweiflugelig

birdbrains say what? ...wait, what?

boel round 1 battle 12 : black eagles vs golden deer

[viridescent-lance]

Edelgard knows well how to fight an armored foe, finding gaps in his (admittedly slim compared to normal) defenses. She holds herself steady and true, her resolve shining through in both her action and words.

"You're certainly a formidable opponent...I shall give you the battle you are worthy of!" Truthfully, there is a world where Forsyth stood on the opposite side of the battlefield. He'd pledged his loyalty to the Eagles a couple of years back, helping bolster their roster for the sake of his dear friend Deirdre. This year, however, between Python's allegiance and several close friends, the Deer were the natural choice.

His own resolve does not waver, but Forsyth cannot deny that Edelgard's natural charisma and morals make her a commander he would be proud to serve under.

Forsyth 3.5/6HP rotates team left (Forsyth - Forde - Shez (F) -> Forde -> Shez (F) - Forsyth)

Their duel is interrupted by chaotic stampeding--horses are banned, yet horseplay dominates the battlefield, it seems. Forsyth finds himself facing the woman with stars in her hair and a strange-looking sword, the one who'd been feuding with Shez earlier.

@zweiflugelig or @dcggersedge

birdbrains say what? ...wait, what?

boel round 1 battle 12 : black eagles vs golden deer

[viridescent-lance]

That's...no, it can't be. Forsyth had seen him fall, years ago. Alm's cousin, former heir of Rigel, the young (ex?) lord Berkut himself. It's unmistakable. How had he survived? How is he here, at Garreg Mach? What are his intentions? Does Alm know?

The other contestants leap into battle, quarreling about something or other than rushes past Forsyth's ears without fully settling. He prepares himself for battle, clutching his axe, but he is well and truly focused on the dead man walking on the enemy team.

Said dead man gets a little closer to true death after Shez smacks him with a particularly heavy blow, and Forsyth turns his attention to the foe in front of him. He can confront Berkut later.

"Lady Edelgard...it is an honor to face you in battle." Forsyth respects the young leader of the Black Eagles house immensely. She's intelligent, just, and capable, though so much has been foist onto her shoulders at such a young age. "I won't be holding back!"

Forsyth 6/6HP hits Edelgard 5/5HP with Steel Axe! [Roll: 8, 2.5-0.5 = -2HP] Edelgard 3/5HP

Forsyth's axe finds its mark, the blow slightly blunted by armor. Edelgard isn't wearing as much as she usually does, and neither is Forsyth, but the two of them are experienced in heavy armor, as the way they wield their weapons shows.

birdbrains say what? ...wait, what?

boel round 1 battle 12 : black eagles vs golden deer

[viridescent-lance]

Lukas is polite and doesn’t comment, but Forsyth sees the way his gaze pauses when it roves over the marks. Forsyth’s no blushing virgin, but color still rises to his cheeks beyond that provided by the temperature. It’s too late now, but he not-so-subtly adjusts the blanket to cover his lower half. It feels a little better, at least.

“You’re not the only one, you know.” Lukas always takes so much responsibility. Perhaps Forsyth is throwing stones in a glass house, but it frustrates him to see his friend beating himself up so much. “Python and I should have had foresight, as well. There’s no point in dwelling now, but the burden is not on you alone.”

Ah, and now comes Lukas’s turn to disrobe. Forsyth averts his eyes with a rather pointed swivel, covering his eyes to accentuate the point. Lukas has always been rather shy about changing, and Forsyth doesn’t want to make things any more awkward than they already are. It really is cold, even with the cover—moving toward the fire is a good idea, and he drags his shivering form closer. Carefully, his eyes still shielded.

“You know, I was excited for the three of us to take on assignments together in less dire straits.” They’d hardly had the time before Python struck out on his own after the war. Forsyth had always envisioned a future where the three of them were a force of justice and peace in a unified Valentia, able to use their talents for good and wind down afterwards. While that didn’t come to pass, fate had seen it fit to give them another chance. Yes, the straits are demonstrably dire at the moment, but Fodlan is not at war, and their duties are similar to what he’d imagined those years ago. “Though this is less than ideal…I’m glad we’re together again.”

Ideally they wouldn’t be risking frostbite, but Forsyth lets himself bask a little in the warmth of affection. He needs all the warmth he can get, after all. 

Just Three Dudes Staying Warm

Anniversary 2024 +1 Heavy Armor

[viridescent-lance]

february activity check: passed!

skill points: 57->58

lance: A+(2)->S (monthly)

obtained: lance crit+, frozen lance