lycianlynx

[lycianlynx]

"S'fine." is the reflexive reply, "Nah, m'not familiar," its second part, whereupon they listen intently, nodding where appropriate. They know she's a former diva by now, so no need to make too big a deal about it, at least out loud...

The important part is still that they help her willingly, like second nature. A smile is returned with a look of their own, the usual pinch of their brow eased with the reassurance— Not the one in the workload department, but the confirmation that this is just decoration work. Rapid stages of grief left behind, they fall into step just a margin behind her, following her lead, toting their share of the materials deftly.

"Yeah, pretty much. Who told you?" As they know she was an actress, their own less obvious pursuits seem to have made the rounds— A bit to their chagrin, but what can you do. Being on the decoration committee for the Ethereal Ball isn't the hardest reputation to dodge, but it isn't easy, either.

Humility is still reflexive; a thief's not got much to be proud about. "I don't have experience in stage backdrops, but I do work fast enough for bigger surfaces..."

[ ♫ ]  ─  * 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐝-𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧!

distress / +1 authority

[lycianlynx]

Okay, a task. Mental catalogue. Focus. Fingers follow, still deft even in the frigid cold. Test at an inseam, skirt over a pouch bound to his thigh, the bags at his belt, recalling with the motion what's in each:

"Knife." he doesn't mention the exact number, but it's at least five. "Rations— Dried fruit, grain bars, waterskin. Lockpicks. Small notepad. Stick of drawing coal..."

Their hand pauses over one, unlatches it, pulls out some gauze, struggles to rip it with shaky hands— Stuff it into the crack unceremoniously when they manage, pulling a blunter knife to jam it in securely. Shuddering, gritting their teeth so they don't chatter.

"Some gauze. Two handkerchiefs. Herbs..."

A pause. "Flint." Useless without wood to keep the fire going. As overprepared as they tend to be, a lack of firewood isn't something within their ability to produce on the fly. The cabin, too, is hilariously barren, like some sort of cosmic fucking joke; maybe someone else had already set fire to all the furniture here before them?

Chad gnaws at their lip, dried out and chapped. Assuming they survive—they have to—maybe they should replenish the firewood here before they leave.

"We can't risk it for firewood outside?" They ask, for confirmation, for guidance.

Cloudy with a chance of Insecurity

[Anniversary Mission - Heavy Armor]

[lycianlynx]

I’m fine with listening, they say, and when they smile like that she knows he means it. The silence that follows sits a beat too long, albeit in naught but basking warmth, those crinkled corners of her eyes melting away to whatever gentle appreciation makes of them.

"Hee hee…” Scooting back in her seat, Maria rests her elbows on the table and cranes her neck to rest her chin atop her knuckles. It sets her smile askew, small, curling thing that it is, and utterly too pleased. He catches the light, or so she finds – refracts the little joys and makes them brighter.

So she notices when the prism shifts, when light bounces into uncertain hands and worries, subtly, whatever is in reach. They’re hesitant, not unhappy yet reluctant to traipse beyond that. Is it because they stand at the beginning, or is it because she doesn’t? Scarlet lashes rest shut for a heartbeat or two in quiet contemplation; and, when they open, what lies beneath is simple, crystal clarity.

“Isn’t that fine?” One hand folds to let her shoulder hug her smile, stowed away into her cheek with something caught between mischief and affection. “Even if we see things differently, that just means we see more together! And you know what? I bet you’ll ask questions I’ve never even thought of!”

Eyes squeezed shut and a flash of teeth; she stretches hands and latticed fingers, and with the point of just one nudges the tart closer to their direction.

“I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but I promise that I’ll try! And– hee hee! That I’ll be there until you get sick of me!” Another smile, at that – soft and subtle, but there is light in her eyes, refracted, brighter.

“I’m looking forward to seeing your magic, Chad!”

[lycianlynx]

"—Huh?"

No, hold on, this isn't that strange, is it? Wanting to help, that is. Must be a good day on the eyes, then. Brown eyes likewise scan the kitchen for anything appropriate they could delegate. "Okay, sure. Let me think..."

As they think: Chop, chop, chop, chop. Take it, turn it, cut it lengthwise again, scrape it into the bowl. This portion's going into the one for the littler kids, so it can't have anything to choke on— Oh, was that an actual instruction, or just pure habit?

Well, it's still a nice thing to think of for the older folks who can't chew that well, even if the stew's going to be as slow-cooked and mushy as it gets without totally losing texture. Starch for nicer consistency, let it settle for a while...

God, they can't stop thinking about the supplies at camp. Maybe they could ask if someone could negotiate— No need to get sticky-fingered about it yet, unless—

But then, well, having asked about it would still make them suspect. Ugh. Okay. Stuff it for later.

"Oh, yeah. Can you help wash the carrots? Peel them too, maybe. I still need to shell peas after this," their knife thunks against the board as another bell pepper is adeptly hacked to bits and scraped aside, "so I could honestly use the load off."

left to stew // elffin + chad

soup kitchen ✧ no point

[lycianlynx]

It's odd, really, what the thought of things that don't belong does to them. Sometimes its a splinter in the palm, sometimes its a brick in the wrong order, a pick in a lock, a dandelion in the cracks. Who decides what belongs where how, anyways?

It's not rational or practical to think like this, but Chad has ever been a boy of emotion even when they try to preach sense. To think about belonging, to think surely we all have somewhere to go, to think that just because something wasn't meant for here it might go elsewhere...

Because, well, the splinter was part of a plank, a brick can be pried out and reset, sometimes you need to pick that lock to get home and there are fields where dandelions thrive without worries. Sure, these trees weren't meant to be here, and they'll only do harm in the long run. But, but...!

... It doesn't stop them from looking guilty when Sophia catches them squirreling away a live cutting for themself, though.

"... What are y—" they start, before wincing and taming the defensive barb, looking even guiltier in the process. "... What's up?"

pocket full of posies

anniversary 2024: axe +1

[lycianlynx]

The next student Azelle approaches seems to have an aura about him... Azelle is almost worried that they'll slap the tray out of his hand, but assumptions about others are never a good thing to base first impressions on.

So he pins on his sunniest smile and approaches the blond. "Hi there," he says. "I'm Azelle Velthomer, one of the newer students. Since we're classmates, I thought I'd introduce myself. I made these for everyone, if you'd like one. The tarts are raspberry."

And on cue he presents the tray, still flush with a huge amount of cinnamon rolls and tarts, for his classmate to choose from.

The glare Azelle is met with as the student in question turns around might have been severe enough to make him fear for the worst, but they don't actually snap at him or lash out— In fact, the wary line of their eyes releases at the sight of a smiling face, and any bristling is quickly exchanged for muted interest, slight confusion.

There's no way Chad can presume that the tray of treats is directed at them, especially in the fallout of the monastery's fall and subsequent reclamation— Facilities are ramshackle and haphazard, ingredients are a bit tight still.

But, well, at least one of those treats is, in fact, meant to be his. Chad stares for a moment, before his eyes flick up to the others', before slowly reaching out to take a singular raspberry tart.

"Um, thanks." Wow okay that sounded awkward. "Welcome to Garreg Mach." Which is a bit of a dump right now. "Things will probably— They'll get better." Very reassuring, genius. God just smite him right now.

"Name's Chad." is how they try to salvage it. "Guess I owe you one."

[lycianlynx]

✧ JANUARY 2025

status: passed

skill points acquired: 2 (1 monthly, 1 event) total skill points: 37 -> 39 skill point allocation: weapon x () -> weapon x ()

accessed: mastery: n/a

completed threads: ✦ ✦ dropped threads: ✦ ✦ ✦ threads not yet allocated to mastery: 8 i think

[lycianlynx]

"—I'm fine!" Nothing worse than a few scrapes— And his pride hardly matters at this junction, anyways. As soon as she releases him, he's back on his feet, sword exchanged for shorter blades.

Another host of enemies felled, another group takes their place— Already engaged with several other parties flanking the beast and its cohort. Only working in tandem do blades and arrows fell it, and again the sky thunders, again they are bolstered—

all remaining teams heal 1.5HP. team 4 3.5/4HP.

The beast falls, and they yet stand.

p4 moves right.

@heavy-draw @delicatevalentine @hresvelged

i'm back in the FUCKING building // epiphany finale, unit 4

[lycianlynx]

Far above the battlefield, the two nearly deific presences clash with a resounding blow, and the reminder of what they're fighting for has their number surge forth anew— Both in movement and in body, wounds and scrapes knitting. In short, a little boost in morale never hurt anyone, really.

Not enought to blind, though; All must be taken in measure. Edelgard remains steadfast, driven and prudent, and it's not hard for Chad to defer to her judgement. By her command, his feet shift into defensive posture as he intends to size the opposing forces up, but their party is hardly afforded the luxury—

Shadows lunge for them in periphery.

"To our right!" Chad barks, raising their blade to block— But their parry goes wide.

e2 engages p4! roll 4d10 vs 4d10+4: 32 vs 22. 1 damage to p4!

@hresvelged @heavy-draw @delicatevalentine

i'm back in the FUCKING building // epiphany finale, unit 4

[lycianlynx]

Their own bow fires to fell the hooded figures, their fall confirmed with a lingering eye before they join the others in brisk advance; right, the Projectionist said that everything they reclaim is significant to their overall victory. They check the fallen enemies for any remaining signs of life, Wo Dao in their grasp. Mercifully, nothing.

"It's fine. We got them."

This time. Despite the declaration, their guard doesn't drop. As their eyes scan the surroundings for any further danger, though...

They crouch. Pick up the little doll, that little armored bear. It's a little beat up, definitely suffered for sitting in the open for so long, and they don't even know if its owner still lives...

Which makes it all the more important they get it home. They slip it into a pouch on their belt, make sure it's secure.

"We should rejoin the others."

unit 4 moves back down.

@heavy-draw @delicatevalentine @hresvelged

i'm back in the FUCKING building // epiphany finale, unit 4

[lycianlynx]

Again, they march towards the monastery. Again, they are framed by the crags of the Goddess' Throat. Again, enemies lie in wait over every rocky crest.

But this time, they are ready. They march, armed and resolved. They are homeward, homeward bound. Each step they take is another inch reclaimed, an advance to seize.

This time, Chad does not run ahead alone. Their own formation of four closes in on robed insurgents as those of the Monastery surge forward, together, blades and bows in hand—

p4 engages e8! roll 4d10+4 vs 4d10: 22 vs 21. 1 damage to both parties!

They are not the type to fight noisily. But as the cacophany of battle begins to ring throughout Her throat, they cannot help the raw warcry it wrests from them in response: we're so close, forward, forward—!

@heavy-draw @delicatevalentine @hresvelged

i'm back in the FUCKING building // epiphany finale, unit 4

[lycianlynx]

So often Maria is the warmth of their brightening sky, the hue of a new day; Chad worries, too, from whence she blooms, but they are not her soil or the rain or the roots. Brightness in the dark is seldom innate and even less infalliable, but as long as they can give her a reason for her vibrancy...

... Yes. They don't know her sorrows, and they realise she doesn't know theirs. Entrusting them feels terrifying, and maybe she feels the same, but to entrust eachother with these—flighty-ticklish things, their likes, these little concessions of attachment and affection—

All else will follow with time. After the bashful newness wears down and the instant blushes burn out. Scarlet graces the tips of their ears as they scrunch up, but they do not realise they shine, here, too, as they subtly burrow their face into their collar, yet unwilling to tear their eyes away lest she disappears.

They're not one to stay at eye-level with their feelings. They do not look away. They blink, once, slow. Her hand is steady in theirs. Their rough thumb runs over the back of her slightly-dry one, catching, just as ticklish.

"I like you," bursts out after a beat as both mirror and answer; please don't disappear. For things to come with time, they both need to stay. Kindness or selfishness, it is offered to her, bare and gentle-beating, with open hands, always.

"I like the way your eyes crease when you laugh, I like the way your hair falls into your face when you tilt your head like that, I like when you humor me with something I thought was goddamn embarrassing. Sure I like drawing, and flowers, and sweets, but all of it's started reminding me of you too— Every day. Always. I— I like you, so."

Her hand, her slightly-dry knuckles are brought to chapped lips. A hushed kiss is pressed quickly between the first two. Chad does not look away, even when his lips are a pressed into a nervous line as he peers up. "... We should get to go back together in time for it."

stay.

Once again, brown eyes seek rose-red, like a fox to its burrow, like an eagle to an aerie— Find her, mostly unharmed like all the rest of them, the most they can ask for in this bunker, arrayed together like needles in a sewing-box. They cannot help the way their face softens when they look to her.

"Maria!" They call out, padding over eagerly, two parts of their spoils cradled in their arms; A Heal staff, an anima spell of relative potency. They take her hand, press both into it with both of their own and hold them there, warm and alive and mostly unharmed.

"Here," and here, they smile, "I found these for you while I was out. We need to keep working hard, yeah?"

After a beat, it erodes slightly at the edges, but not for want of affection; only the usual fretting. "... But don't overdo it. We're all gonna make it back, so we should act like it."

chad traded heal (15/20) and rabbit scroll (15/15) to maria!

There is an uncommon distance in her eyes as she stares elsewhere, the turn of her head just a beat slow, the smile on her lips a slighter shape at first.

"...Chad!" But again, not for want of affection; it reaches its full bloom as she beholds him, rising from her seat, allowing them one hand as the other hovers at their elbow. Fingers curl over her newfound gifts, a ticklish note further brightening her expression with its warm hues. "...For me? Hee hee!" The giggle quite slips past her lips without her permission, but she allows it, eyes squeezed shut in the moment and narrowed fondly when it passes.

And he worries for her. The waiting hand at last alights upon his elbow, a gentle touch holding him in place as she twists around to lay the presents on her perch. Another twist to return to him and there she simply looks.

"I like you," Maria declares suddenly, certainly. "I like you a lot," she says again, just so he can be sure. Her head tilts to one side, hair curtaining over her shoulder, and something sparkles in her eyes -- grateful, if touched by a sort of sorrow.

"I like your pretty eyes. Your shiny smile." She pulls her hand back to herself and catches his along the way, clasping it in both. "This kindness."

A breath in, and then at last -- a breath out. Her head feels clearer again.

"Thank you for bringing me these, Chad. Hee hee... You showed up right when I needed you!" Back and forth, she swings their hands to an easy rhythm, grin at bloom once more. "But, can I ask you one more favor? Tell me some things you like! It'll make planning your birthday present that much easier, heeheehee!"

[lycianlynx]

"...Here..." Whatever happened to hi, how are you? Or hey Chad, glad you're safe? Or even just a simple hello?

No, Chad is greeted with a steel sword, blade thankfully pointed down at the ground. Compared to the rough condition most of the weapons found in the bunker are in, the sword looks like it has come right off the rack of an armory. Untouched by the grime and wear of battle, it glints softly in the low light of the makeshift bunker.

Despite the relatively impersonal way she offers the weapon, Sophia's eyes sweep anxiously over Chad, checking for any sign of injury. Finding nothing, the tension she's carrying in her furrowed brow eases into something resembling relief.

With the sword, she offers a reassurance: "I went out for supplies... with Alear. He... was very kind to me."

A beat as her gaze flicks down to the blood that has since dried at the hem of her skirt and then back to Chad. "Oh... it's monster blood... Don't worry."

Sophia trades Chad Steel Sword (40/40 Durability)!

"Oh—"

Anxious brown likewise sweeps her form in mirror, noting the grime that's made a home on all of them at this point, the blood at the hem of her dress— Dried, not fresh, worn again by travel. It's impossible to expect anyone to be better than just fine, but it's still far from selfish to hope they are unharmed. She is, relatively. A small comfort.

That makes the state of the sword all the more remarkable, doesn't it? To ask for anything to be pristine in times like these feels impossible, but here it is. Chad does not care for the lack of fanfare, and takes the blade from her by the hilt, letting its weight settle in his palm.

Supplies... Supplies. Those sound like a good idea. Maybe they'll go out for some, too— Might even find a tome for her, maybe, monsters be damned.

"... Alear, huh?" they ask, recalling that name, too, from the stupid candy game. "... I'll remember."

They offer her a smile, small, exhausted, but a smile nontheless. "Thanks. I'll repay you soon."

[lycianlynx]

If the thief didn’t want to be found it would be difficult for anyone to find them, and nigh impossible for Elffin. But still he searches, because to stop would be to acknowledge that they were gone. 

There were enough that he searched for that he could not find inside this bunker, and as his sight blurred he found that he must accept he would be unable to find them any time soon. But it was hard to stop his slow circuit around the area, still offering to help when he could.

A miracle it is, then, that he catches wind of a voice that he recognizes. He searches for it, now at least having a destination in mind. “Chad? Is that you?”

Though not trying to hide, especially not now, repeated rounds around and about the bunker render them difficult to pin down— Always moving, always seaching, burning the candle from every which way. Exhaustion sits heavy on their shoulders, crushing their form smaller than ever.

Still, they lift their head against it at a familiar voice, and relief floods them; any familiarity, any security, any surety is a liifeline to any soul here, and Chad is no different.

No, moreso for them. Sore feet turn on heel, clumsy but still quiet, heading towards Elffin, stopping a few paces before him, before sagging, relieved.

"Elffin," is the response. Their voice sticks, for a moment, before they swallow, thick. "Yeah. It's me."

And they offer their hand, palm-up. Touch, warmth, proof of life, an exchange. The next statement, too, question, confirmation: "You're okay..."

[lycianlynx]

The reprieve is brief, but welcome— Small enemy patrols all something their group can handle. Their ankle is looked at, the cuts on their shin and forehead cleaned and patched. Before they know it, their number goes hurtling back into the cave, and once more Rafal shifts into that serpentine form, comfortable in his power even in enclosed space.

Their job is to make sure nothing escapes; Pin them down, clean them up where thunderous blows do not quite reach. Rafal's allowance is taken as such. Once again, Chad draws, aims,

chad attacks crest beast (bird) with gandiva! roll: 13 + 2 = 15. autocrit! 5 damage. crest beast (bird) 0/6HP. gandiva activates! chad steals 2 avo from crest beast (bird). crest beast (bird) has been defeated!

And fires. Plucked out of the air with a broken cry, the beast goes tumbling down to the floor next to its mangled fellow. They try not to linger on the gnashed bone for too long, instead looking for their next target, only to get caught in an exhale of fumes— Biting back a gasp, they push the collar of their cloak up to their nose, squinting through the sting to find:

Another body hitting the wall with a crunch, then the ground with a thump. Gaze swivels to the next source of movement, flailing limbs and sapping magic. Eyes narrow as it staggers back. Again, they fall seamlessly into step to assist.

... There!

chad attacks autonomous husk with gandiva! roll: 6 + 2 = 8. hit! 2.5 damage. autonomous husk 0/6HP. gandiva activates! chad steals 2 avo from autonomous husk. autonomous husk has been defeated!

A well-placed arrow in what would constitute a throat handily stops the husk in its tracks, soundlessly slumping to the ground. But where they would keep going, a rattling breath distracts them—

... Is that coming from themself? Shit. Earlier fumes show their fangs as they slip into cover to practically cough up their lungs.

cloaked figure steals 1 ap from chad!

Judging by the smashing noise and the laughter, though, all would be well.

@heriteur @rafent @ashenprofessor

no healers attack only final destination // week 1 combat team 3

[lycianlynx]

Barely a moment for respite, and they are back in the thick of it— Better prepared, this time, thanks to Rafal's scouting. Chad had to rally themself to not openly gape at his soaring form earlier, like a Demon Dragon's yet decidedly more serpentine, coiling down gracefully towards the wisping smoke that signalled their campfire...

It's a near-bewitching mental image. They make note to memorialise it in charcoal when they get the chance. For now, the light grows dimmer, wind and wet making their campfire gutter. Thief's eyes stay bright, looking to where their teammates do not, but even that can only bring them as a group so far: A cackle rends the air, and suddenly, the earth buckles beneath them—

masked man casts quake. hit! chad takes 2 damage. chad 6/10HP.

Their ankle rolls slightly, their shin stings fierce, but they dart out of the way of anything further, watch as Byleth cuts down their assailant and the red-haired man cuts down another in their periphery. Their focus lies on the sky, had seen the other shadow falling upon their party, bowstring already drawn.

Daggers, they are called, and to it they respond. "On it!"

chad attacks crest beast (bird) with gandiva! roll: 19 + 6 = 17. autocrit! 5 damage. crest beast (bird) 1/6HP. gandiva activates! chad steals 2 avo from crest beast (bird). dazzle activates! chad gains +6 avoid. crest beast (bird) counters with rend and talon! roll: 13 - 8 = 5, 2 - 8 = -6. hit, miss! 1 damage. chad 5/10HP.

chad attacks crest beast (bird) with gandiva! roll: 15 + 8 = 23. autocrit! 5 damage. crest beast (bird) 0/6HP. gandiva activates! chad steals 2 avo from crest beast (bird). crest beast (bird) has been defeated!

They are a thief, not a Sacaen marksman, but their bow still does the job— An arrow nocked and loosed, skewering a wing and sending the creature spiraling downwards. In a familiar rage, it spends its final throes trying to gouge out Chad's eyes in a shrieking fury, which the boy puts an end to with a hard swat and a second well-placed arrow, a scratch to their forehead all the beast had to show for its fury.

... It bleeds freely into their eye, looking worse than it is. They put a hand to it to check and wince when it comes away red— Vision so impaired, they hear the hoofbeats before they see the rider. Their head snaps around as they move to regroup.

"One more!"

@ashenprofessor

no healers attack only final destination // week 1 combat team 3

[lycianlynx]

On the field, yet another beast throws itself towards blade— All teeth and claws and maddened rage, crimson glinting in the firelight. All that, and yet still somehow entirely undermined by the hulking thing of stone tumbling into view at its heels that Rafal immediately besets. Chad's teeth grit, nocking and drawing, aim true at the creature whose hide he knows his arrows can pierce.

"Focus! I'll keep the wolf off you!" they shout, separating only slightly from the other two, and let fly.

chad attacks crest beast b (wolf) with gandiva! roll: 15 + 2 = 17. hit! 2.5 damage. crest beast (wolf) 3.5/6HP. gandiva activates! chad steals 2 avo from crest beast (wolf). dazzle activates! chad gains +6 avoid. crest beast b (wolf) counters with claw and tear! roll: 14 - 10 = 4, 2 - 10 = -8. hit, miss! 1 damage. chad 9/10HP.

chad attacks crest beast b (wolf) with gandiva! roll: 4 + 4 = 17. hit! 2.5 damage. crest beast (wolf) 1/6HP. gandiva activates! chad steals 2 avo from crest beast (wolf). dazzle activates! chad gains +6 avoid. crest beast b (wolf) counters with claw and tear! roll: 14 - 10 = 4, 3 - 10 = -7. hit, miss! 1 damage. chad 8/10HP.

A flash rocks the cave. Undeterred, two arrows fly rapid-fire, pierce fur and flesh, first hobbling the creature, then landing true between its ribs, spilling sanguine onto the floor— But its reckless bounds do not stop.

Instead, it leaps for them, snarling, blood splattering noisily from its chest, heedless of its own wounds; they narrowly evade the snap of jaws, but even their finest footwork cannot save them from the savage swipes that follow. Claws graze an arm brought up to block, an ankle that attempts to tear away. It's too close for a third shot, but that's fine—

chad attacks crest beast b (wolf) with gandiva! roll: 8 + 6 = 14. hit! 2.5 damage. crest beast (wolf) 0/6HP.

With a snarl, they pull a knife to plunge into the beast's skull before it can do any more damage, and after a few twitches, it is still. Kicking the carcass off of them, they turn to check on their allies and—

—IS THAT A FUCKING DRAGON?

@ashenprofessor

no healers attack only final destination // week 1 combat team 3