#[ nabataprophet ]

[lycianlynx]

She doesn't need anything in particular, before Chad starts to worry.

A minor(?) hiccup or two aside, Sophia is having a pretty good time. Every time her gaze finds Chad in the crowd, they also look to be keeping busy, so she is content to leave them be. There are things they'd like to do and people they'd like to see without the need for Sophia to hover around them for the whole night.

Still, though, she does make her way back to Chad after some time. Were she a braver person, she would make a kitty paw with her hand in greeting. She isn't, though, so instead she greets him with a tilt of her head.

"I know... it probably be easier... to get candy if we go separately, but..." Sophia holds out a hand to Chad. "I think... it would be fun... if we walked together, too."

As she holds her hand out, her sleeve rides up, exposing the bloody handprint on her wrist.

"Oh... it's not mine... Don't worry." A beat, as she seems to realize she should probably clarify on this point further. "It's not real... I... think."

Comforting!

They're a born worrier, but Chad doesn't want to hover over Sophia too badly— They'd hate anyone else to be doing it to them in turn, so they guessed they'll let her come to them if she actually wants or needs to.

Who exactly is the cat in this equation isn't fully clear in this exchange. It's still an exchange that happens. Sophia comes to them, and Chad tries not to jump to conclusions or perk up too visibly. Maybe they would have even mirrored that theoretical cat-paw. Alas, it never happened.

"What's up?" Comes in greeting instead, accompanied by a reflection of her head-tilt. Her extended hand is eyed for all but a second of surprise, about to answer this gesture too with a mirror of her own, before brown eyes stop midway to meeting hers and yank back downwards.

That's blood. Why is that blood. "What the fuck."

Instead of taking her extended hand in his, he instead slowly holds her palm and pulls her sleeve up. He dabs a finger into the drying, flaking red. Yep, hers or not, that's certifiably real blood.

"What the fuck?" They repeat, with more feeling this time. "Who's is it, then?!"

[twistedisciple]

T-the outside world truly is... such a vast... place.

That naïve thought of hers is usually an expression of admiration, but tonight it's accompanied by a grimace. There is a shambling, brutalized corpse walking around, dripping blood wherever he goes. And for some strange reason, the people who encounter him all yell at him rather than check on his injuries.

...?

....????

Maybe this is actually normal here and Sophia is the one who doesn't understand...? No, but surely big gashes that evoke the suggestion of dragon claws would be cause for concern in most places...??? She couldn't deny that she had seen dark magic do terrible things to a person's body, either, but never quite this bad.

"Um, I was... going to ask... if you wanted..." Her violet eyes are spinning trying to figure out where exactly to look. Even if everyone else thinks this is perfectly normal, is this really the time for trick-or-treating? "...No, um... should I... find a healer first...?"

A Heal or Physic Staff wouldn't even begin to make a dent in this and that's all Sophia has. She's a witch shaman, not a priest, after all.

This is the one. Griss can feel it. This witch has been drifting around with that kind of dazed, vacant look in her eyes that means she won’t notice his setup before it’s too late. He is so sure of this that he doesn’t even bother staking out a place to scare her ahead of time. The moment she’s alone, that’s his chance.

So when all the pieces fall into place, Griss stumbles noisily out of the bushes, moaning, gripping his stomach, dribbling from his mouth the rest of the fresh blood he’d collected for the occasion. He can’t walk straight (he never walks straight) and stumbles over his own feet, which - staged or otherwise - lands him sprawled across the ground in front of the lavender-haired witch. The muffled groans into the grass don’t even sound like pleasure, and he thinks to himself that he probably deserves some sort of recognition for his acting, which nearly makes him break character. But he keeps it together, writhing like the pain is killing him, grasping for the witch’s robes with bloody fingers.

She doesn’t scream though. She doesn’t even run. Instead, she kneels down like she’s concerned. maybe she deserved the acting award

So he grabs for her wrists and drags himself closer, gurgling something unintelligible through the blood, deranged eyes more whites than iris.

Should she find a healer? What does she think? That gives Griss a new idea though, and clarity comes back to his bloodstained face in a blink. The writhing stops and he sits up and back onto his heels.

“Guess which ones are real first.” He holds out both forearms. Beneath the shredded sleeves, they’re coated nearly shoulder to wrist in gashes of all kinds and sizes. He grabs for one of her hands so she can’t run.

“Don’t worry: if you guess wrong, I’ll make it right.” Grinning, he rolls the knife’s handle in the grip of his other hand. “I wonder if you’re better at finding help when someone’s actually bleeding out in front of you? We can find out.”

[frauleindermorgen]

@nabataprophet sent:

[ Adrestria ] - A court dance that has spread like wildfire through Fódlan ballrooms. This waltz is best known for a special move that calls for the partners to join hands, together forming the shape of a bird in flight. It's a bit thrilling, if not nerve-wracking, to be tossed around the dance floor, being passed from partner to partner. Eventually Sophia finds herself face to face with one of her classmates from the Black Eagles, albeit one who she hadn't spoken much to. "Ah... from the Day of Devoted..." There was more to the name, but she could never remember the full thing. More importantly, there's a question she has wanted to ask the other girl this whole time, but never found the time or space to ask it. "You," she starts, hand clumsily forming wings, "...matched us... based on fate. Then you also... see the future...?"

This Adrestrian number is dream-like, almost, in the way one partner moves from another in a continuous flow; but Micaiah finds she appreciates it, even if it does not give her a chance at conversation with all her partners.

When she locks eyes and hands with the next, however, both seem to find the same flash of familiarity though it is not Micaiah who voice it.

"...hearts," Micaiah finishes, not bothering with the rest of the title (though so carefully rehearsed she certainly could have). "Yes, I remember. Sophia, was it?"

They have not shared any classes together but Micaiah recalls they are in the same house. Slowly as each circle each other, hands in flight, Micaiah considers the question:

"I used to be able see the future. But that was before my Goddess left for her slumber. In truth, those matches were based on divination cards which is... less conclusive."

She laughs; then again, Yune's visions had not always been clear to her either. Perhaps that was just the way of things.

"But you, you can see glimpses into the future then?" Her tone is wondering, smile turned nostalgic and a little saddened.

[mercenarymage]

[ Fashion... Inspector? ] 

Sophia will be the first to admit she had not been particularly close with the vast majority of Lord Roy's army. That was a privilege reserved for the more socially inclined. Still though, she likes to think that she had at least cursory knowledge of who everyone was by the time she had parted ways, more or less.

But to tell the truth, Sophia... is not actually entirely sure what this man's name is. She knows that she had heard Niime shout something at him on more than one occasion, but not what that something was.

"...Niime's grandson," she settles on somewhat awkwardly. "We... match."

She is referring to their brooches, of course, but makes no indication of this.

Hugh had been taking a break from the festivities when he hears the name of the last person he expects hearing. It initially brings a chill down his spine - if they only know him through his grandmother, there's no telling what he should expect next!!! But, when he hears the follow up, and he glances towards the source of the voice, a heavy sigh escapes him.

He hasn't talked with Sophia much, but he remembers a face when he sees one. She's definitely travelled with him in the past, and it comes to no surprise that Niime would be the first she remembers over him. As cranky and unagreeable as she was around him, Niime's a powerful shaman, and well regarded for her studies. That, and he's pretty sure he's seen her chatting it up with Sophia before. 

(Aside from Sophia's potential with magic, though, he's not quite sure why.)

Ok, chatting it up was a bit of an overstatement. If there's one thing he's caught on about Sophia, its that she's not much of a talker. But that's fine! It's fine. He's more than happy to fill the gap for the two of them. 

"Matching, you say?" he asks, observing her attire. It's cute to see her trying a new fit for the ball, but when he compares it to his own, he can't really see the similarities. Still, he plays along. "Yeah, we both pulled out all the stops to look nice, didn't we? Did you pick the outfit yourself?"

"Oh, and-" he pushes a smile on his face. "You can just call me Hugh, alright? No need to be formal around me!" At least he's not being called sir or mister. He'll take those small victories when he can.

[nelithic]

although she had not seen them in thousands of years, it was as if the spines of gradlon's mountains themselves were erupting beneath her skull. weary, distant eyes linger on a far corner of the ballroom as she sits with back to the cooling flat of the marble wall, a wineskin of ice — courtesy of water, who had seemed the most contrite of the five over their fellow elementals' behavior — pressed to the worst of the pulsing injury a few inches beneath the crown.

in truth, she feels deeper regret for having resorted to her transformation than most other things about the altercation.

events had moved quickly after that, and it had been impossible to tell just how many had seen her in her draconic form, and how many would remember it; rather than, with any luck, dismissing it as yet another absurd fantasy of the night, not to be trusted any more than the dust of fairy wings and serving mice at its conclusion.

shy movement in her periphery draws a sidelong glance — straightening with a sigh where she sits, nel recalls she'd been deposited at the side of another. something about a date, which does not concern her now. only that the girl is a stranger, a student aboveground, and a potential witness to something she would have rather kept to herself.

"how much did you see."

　▀▀　@nabataprophet　₊

[atypicalsenerio]

"...I have one...now." Sophia speaks without preamble, raising her right palm to Soren, where a symbol like a bolt of lightning thrums with magic. It's a strange feeling, to be sure, to feel magic that isn't dark running through her. The static feels foreign, like the aftereffects of being hit with Thoron, but it does not go away no matter how long she waits. "A...Brand?"

Soren stared blankly. He looked an awful lot like Sophia herself in that moment.

"That's not... no."

He sighed and extended his hand where he also had his new mark. "They're unrelated. My forehand Brand will stay. This is just a gimick of the party. However, I suppose we can shake."

[higaneion]

After recent events, Sophia has become intimately familiar with not only the location of Lilina's room, but its contents as well. On Lilina's birthday, practiced steps bring her to the Ostian's doorstep.

Sophia raps her knuckles on the door, calling quietly: "...Lady Lilina?"

She waits a few moments for an answer that does not come. Perhaps Lilina has stepped out for the moment or maybe Sophia just hadn't knocked hard enough. The reason does not particularly matter; today surely must be a busy day for her.

Regardless, Sophia sets down a small wrapped gift in front of the lordling's door. Contained within the package are a pair of ceramic bookends, carved into the shape of blooming flowers, and a candle that smells faintly of aloe.

A sealed letter is placed delicately on top. When opened, it reads:

"Lady Lilina, Happy birthday. When I was in your room last time, I noticed that you have a lot of books, but your organization is a little (a word is crossed out here) unique. I hope these bookends are useful for you. A lot of your candles were down to the wick, as well, so I've also included a candle. The scent reminds me of home, so it may not suit your taste. You don't need to use them if you don't want to, but I wanted to get you something for your birthday. Oh, and also as a thank you for the ribbons you gave me earlier. ...Also if you would like me to help return some overdue books for you, please let me know. I spend a lot of my time in the library anyway. —Sophia"

Returning once more to her dorm would reward her with yet another package. Delight blooms in her face when she reveals its contents and even more so its sender. Though she does grimace a little at the reminder of the well past overdue books, she appreciates the sentiment all the same and it wasn't anything she wouldn't laugh off a moment later.

Though ideally, she would like to thank her in person, she often misses her despite being in the same house. Besides, she fears she could not properly thank the girl in the way she wants to. So, some time later does she sit down to draft a letter to slide in the slit of Sophia’s door. 

Dear Sophia, Thank you for the gifts. How thoughtful of you. Rest assured, there will be plenty of use out of them. Of course I am not familiar with the scents of your home, but each time I light one, I will be reminded of you and that is special enough for me. I just hope I don’t burn through them too fast hehe. Perhaps we could go to Nabata when we return to Elibe? As for the books, yes… I mean to return them on time, but I get caught up in other tasks and lose track of time. I think the rental period is far too short. Maybe we will run into each other there! (A sentence has been scratched out here, if examined closely one may be able to decipher the words: study date.) Anyway, I know you are likely just as busy as I, but I hope to chat with you more. Kindest regards from your friend, Lilina P.S. Aren’t these flowers pretty? I visited the greenhouse and they permitted me to take a couple. They will last a little should you choose to keep them.

As an additional touch, she adds pressed hydrangea flowers of purple, blue, and pink in with the envelope.

[inferniso]

✢⁎. dragon to dragon communication

“Sophia...”

A name ill-practiced on the divine demon’s tongue. She, much like Roy, was a face Idunn came to recognize in those short months at the oasis. She knew Fae--even better than Idunn did--and has the distinct air of something... Similar. Not the same, but similar.

Whatever the case may be, she vanished from Idunn’s life much like the lion. Seeing her again at the school, the full-dragon nearly smiles. Her decision to leave has been reinforced.

“This word,” her finger rests on a passage of text in the hefty tome she carries, evidently something she’d been trying to study, “what does it mean?” The word is Dukedom, taken from an explanation of Fodlan’s history. Being from another land requires that Idunn learn of the one she resides in. Not that she minds, of course. She delights in coming to know the human world.

The rest she read with varying degrees of ease. But this one--this Dukedom--isn’t something the village elders or Fae could’ve possibly taught her about.

Setting the book down in front of the prophet so she could properly see, Idunn continues, feeling the growing need to explain herself, “I’ve seen you reading before. You must be very smart... So maybe you can help me understand.” All spoken in a matter-of-fact tone, robotic in lilt and mundane in pronunciation. 

But that’s okay. Facts and knowledge are becoming a part of her daily life, learning one of her favorite pastimes. As she fixes her position in her seat--the wood creaking in perfect harmony with the desk she leans on--Idunn daydreams about the human world. It has so many things. Few of them were of import to a drone, so many remain a mystery.

A bubbling sensation rises in her chest, now that Idunn’s focus has gently shifted across the classroom. Sophia’s answer will be one step closer to freedom, one vital bound toward the winged dream of her master. 

If she knows what a Dukedom is, perhaps she can learn to love it--perhaps she can bring it peace.

//starter for @nabataprophet

[ninocence]

Sophia finds herself staring at one of the people who has been assigned to her group for the latest mission. Vibrant green hair and clear blue eyes—she looks eerily similar to the young pair of mage brothers who had also found their way into Lord Roy's army. Had they been triplets this whole time? No, Raigh hadn't mentioned anything about a sister...not that he was particularly forthcoming with information about himself to begin with.

"...You look like...someone I know," Sophia mumbles, continuing to gaze at the oddly familiar stranger. "Do you...have brothers...?"

If not, then maybe...

"Huh? Oh wow, how did you know?" Wide eyes turn towards the lavender-haired girl in surprise as she approaches; while a stranger to Nino, the girl speaks as though she might recognize her. And her brothers, as well.

"Yup, I have two brothers," she replies, with a small smile that's only a little sad around the edges, "One's really mature and kind, and the other's rough, but he always means well..."

Though... she tries to think back as hard as she can, in her time with Black Fang and then her time with Eliwood and the others, but no one who looks anything like this girl comes to mind. Nino tilts her head towards the other with a sheepish look. "I don't remember seeing you before, sorry... But um, I'll do my best to remember! Can you tell me your name? I'm Nino, in case you didn't already know!"

Maybe with a name to match to her face, she'll have better luck scouring her memory!

[fellincantation]

🐍 "...? So dragons...can look like this, too...?" There truly is so much she doesn't know; both about herself and the outside world.

"Aghhh we do not! This is some foul curse on my form and it is miserable! My true form is a terrifying visage to behold and would strike fear deep into your heart!" Grima shouted, writhing in frustration. She flopped about and flapped her wings furiously. Yes! She was lifting off of the ground!

"See? Almighty!"

[lionsword]

They're really supposed to stay with their own groups, but at some point after seeing who's in her group, Sophia wanders off to seek out a certain redhead. She need not report her every action to him, but in this case, it feels necessary, because it involves his father.

"Um, Lord Roy..." Sophia calls out from behind him. She clutches her hands to her chest, struggling to find the words. Even she has no idea what will happen inside the world of dreams, so words of comfort feel empty. Even so, he is Lord Roy's beloved father, his only family, so she must do what she can.

"Your father is in my group, so... Don't...worry. I will protect him...so please...stay safe, as well."

“Yes, Sophia?”

Roy patiently listened to her, grateful hand on her shoulder. He had to admit, even knowing her abilities, he felt protective towards her. At hearing her promise, he smiled. “Thank you, Sophia. I’m sure he’ll look after you too. He’s selfless that way- a hero.”

Eliwood always made it home, neat and tidy with a pretty bow at the end of an adventure. Roy…

“I’ll do my best. I couldn’t bear to let you down.” He didn’t want to think about that time last year when he shouldn’t have made it… didn’t make it. “Take care, okay?”

[lycianlynx]

Five candies from trick-or-treating plus the six she had received for the Angels winning. That's eleven candies in total. It's an odd number, one that doesn't split evenly for sharing. Sophia counts six candies and then holds them out to Chad.

"I... have always been prepared... for the possibility that outsiders might try to kill me."

A blunt admission, spoken in the same tone as someone might remark about the weather. Fae was still too young to know when they had left for the first time, but she had known the reason why Arcadia needed to be hidden within the sandstorms and why the Guardians would sometimes return smelling like blood for a very long time.

"If you don't want me to ask why... I won't." They can bury everything that happened tonight forever, if that's what they wish. But I am... not hurt and I had... a lot of fun."

Seven doesn't split evenly, either— But eleven and seven make eighteen, so they accept two of the six she offers, picking a pair of fruit-flavored ones. Now they both have nine.

The admission burns them, the casual tone moreso. It still isn't anything they don't accept as truth. Sophia, for all her crypticness, was honest even in her riddles— Her truths all the more frank for it. It's something they appreciate, even when it scalds and stings like the rim of a hot cauldron beneath their palms.

"No." They say in turn, though it's more of a sigh. "I owe you the truth. I did stab that guy, and he did threaten you to my face. I—" Their hands curl into fists in the fabric of their pants. They grasp for words, for details in the moment, and find none of them really explain what and why—

So, instead, their voice dips low, into a murmur, as does their head, because they don't know how else to explain besides being honest in turn.

"Father was prepared for the fact he might die protecting us. I wasn't. I'll never be." Their hands unclench, open in their lap, palms-up. "Even you— I won't let it—that— happen again. Not if I can help it."

Over their dead body. "Not ever."

A silence, a patience, in case she wants to say anything. Before it can fully lapse, though: "You can ask me whatever you want, and I'll answer. But..."

Brown eyes flick up to her, and their head lifts to follow. "Um, I'm glad you had fun. Really." They flash Sophia the ghost of a smile, tired, but real. "And... Well. Sorry. For, uh."

Their hands clasp together, a nail scratching at the black polish. "... If I made it... Harder, for you to have fun..."

[ashenprofessor]

Sophia would like to receive dark magic tomes! Or was that dork magic tomes? The cursive is a little hard to read.

Another book request. Byleth added it to the list for their trip to the bookshop. If only the note wasn't smudged making it hard to discern what type of magic tomes Sophia required.

Browsing the shelves, Byleth was able to find plenty of dark magic tomes. This was essentially a university town after all. Picking out a couple of promising looking volumes, the professor added them to the stack waiting to be bought on the counter. Just to be safe, they decided to buy a couple of 'dork' magic books as well. It wouldn't do to disappoint.

"Merry yuletide" Byleth greeted Sophia before handing over the wrapped tomes. "I apologise for any mix up in your gift but I hope these are satisfactory."

The book titles: - A darker side of magic: the reason they wont teach you at school - A Practical reason for combat: magic to defeat monsters - Clown magic and other trick to entertain kids - Talking to people: Magical aids for interactions and social situations

[nagaficat]

🎄+ 💋 (wrong child)

Sophia. Deirdre will not make the mistake of calling her the wrong name again. Especially since she has now had the pleasure of meeting her Julia as a kind and beautiful young woman. Especially especially when they both sit in her classroom as she lectures on magic. She feels quite foolish for ever having mixed them up!

It does not make Sophia any less special to her though. She may not be Deirdre's daughter but she still holds a very special place in the professor's heart.

When she sees Sophia standing beneath the mistletoe she's hung in the threshold to her classroom (it looks so festive!) Deirdre is quick to make her way over to her student. With a smile, she gives her a quick kiss right on the cheek. "May your holidays be as lovely as you are!"

[grimstalkr]

Birds of a feather flock together, although in this case, it's more that dark mages tend to seek out one another and that is why Sophia is now standing behind one of her teammates, watching her with listless purple eyes.

"You..." She says suddenly, speaking up out of nowhere. "You're also a dark mage...aren't you...? My name...is Sophia. We will be...on the same team for the mission."

What a shame that she hadn't brought one of her extra dark magic tomes with her as a peace offering.

Tharja noticed Sophia's presence before she spoke but stayed quiet until she finally said something. When she did Tharja turned to look at her, patiently waiting for her to finish.

"Another dark mage... Perfect. My name is Tharja. It's a pleasure to meet you. I take it you'll be just as useful as I will." Tharja said, glad to hear another dark mage was on her team. Dark mages were far more comfortable to be around than other mages for her. "I hope you're prepared for the dream realm, Sophia. I'm certain whatever lies ahead won't be easy. I'm unsure of what's even causing all of this but I suppose we'll find out."

Tharja was much more willing to talk strategy with other dark mages. It took a certain kind of person to be truly adept at dark magic. Quieter individuals seemed to gravitate toward it.

[papulaan]

She tries to imagine the desert and its beauty, its life within it. The world she has always known are either lush forest grounds or open fields of land. When she thinks of the desert, she can only see neverending stretches of sand. They really are from two different worlds. 

In any case, when she had expressed the desire to visit Arcadia, she did mean it. She is sure no summer heat could compare to the desert, but she would tolerate it. 

“An oasis… Yes, that sounds nice. I think my horse would like it as well.” She wonders if it houses fish, though if it is pure, then perhaps not. What do Arcadians eat without trees to forage from?

Speaking of eating, Sophia’s comment pulls her from her thoughts and she shakes her head. “Keep it for as long as you need. …It looks nice on you.”

Sue picks up the fork to twirl some food and her hunger makes itself known. Satisfying herself with the first bite, her eyes glance toward the split meatball, ready to grab a piece next. Before she does though, she notices Sophia had cut it in an uneven half. 

While she appreciates the gesture, she slices off another piece and tips it toward Sophia’s half of the plate to keep them even as a nonverbal act of care. 

When she takes a moment to pause, she adds, "If we are visiting each other's home, then I'd like to show you mine as well if you'd like. It is quite different from the desert, but there may be something you like."

Even if Sue only means it in the passing way that most do when they remark upon their desire to visit somewhere, the notion that someone wants to visits her home is novel to her. She did not have many friends from the outside to begin with, but even less were willing to brave the trek through the Nabata desert.

"The desert can be... harsh, but I still think... it's beautiful. If you visit, I'll show you to... the oasis. Because we are so isolated... the water is extremely pure. You... would like it a lot... I think."

She hadn't noticed before, but now that they're seated and ready to eat, whoever prepared the plate seems to have only given them one meatball. That's strange; she heard that the food shortage ended months ago. Had things gotten bad again? In any case, though, she doesn't mind splitting. She used to share food with Fae all the time and the habit she developed during those days carries through even now that she's alone.

She cuts the meatball with her fork. The smaller half for her and the bigger half for the other person. A small, quiet act of affection.

The offer to trade ornaments causes Sophia to perk up once more. She accepts the crystal from Sue's hand gingerly and leaves the black feather in it's place.

"Should we... eat then? I don't want... to take your cape from you... for that long."