#JUSTICES-BLADE

[berglietz]

"Caspar! Hey, Caspar!!!" Spade still in hand and having rediscovered a passion for digging imcreasingly large holes in the sand, Edward jogs over, waving said spade around, flinging a bit of sand around in the process.

"Dude! You're one of the three people I trust with this on this beach. We need to dig the biggest hole Garreg Mach’s ever seen!! C'mon!!!"

Why? It's a calling! He'd call it divine if he believed in any Goddess talking to him. The Hole Must Be Dug.

Edward may be flinging sand onto Caspar's skin, but he refuses to flinch away. One of only three people on this whole beach up to the task...as if Caspar could ever turn down such an honor...!

He snaps to attention like a soldier called to war. "You came to the right place I'll get us two feet deep before you can even blink!!"

Aaaaand he's off, following the trail of increasingly larger holes in the sand in search of the largest one so far. With how quick Edward is, he knows those blinks are gonna be fast. There's no time to lose!

[renaisguy]

@justices-blade Continued from here

Forde takes the toffee with a smile, and produces a mint from his own pocket. "Seems we have similar ideas as well as similar tastes..." He laughs. "Bit of advice, be careful not to spill anything on yourself, it leaves a bit of a stain." He indicates his arm, which has an obvious light brown patch on it.

He pulls out a white feather. "Pearls! Still need some, trade for a feather?"

[arcelerity]

He's gotten half-used to keeping an eye out for a particular shade of red hair as he goes about his day, always happy to drop a hello to another friend, but this one's unexpected — Less roses and more firelight (though at the same height as Maria, heh), bringing just as much fire to his eyes as he spies the familiar line of a headband underneath.

In a split second, Edward's off like a crossbolt, grinning from ear to ear.

"Tormod!!!" Full on tackle, easy sling of the arms — The only thing saving the mage from being spun is the fact he's still crazy sore from the mission. Still, bright laughter echoes off the walls as the other's shaken lightly. "Wow! You didn't tell me you were coming!!! How've you been? How's Muarim?!"

"Edward!!!" Tormod returns the hug in full, squeezing his friend and feeling a warmth bloom in his chest. He doesn't get to see Edward enough, and after a whole year of silence all his feelings are swirling and he has so many questions in his head! But it's easy to just hold on now, feel the warmth that is real. "I did! I sent a bunch of letters but you never got them because you were in this weird time bubble I guess? Muarim's doing great, he's holding down the fort while I'm gone. It was his idea that I came here in the first place."

As the hug ends, Tormod notices something. Edward is taller. He was taller than Tormod when they'd met, but he's definitely grown in the time since they'd last seen each other. Dammit!

"Man!! Do they have something in the water here that works on height or what!" Tormod does the hand test, which is extremely a mistake because the top of his head only goes to the top of Ed's ears. They'll have to wrestle sometime, Tormod can beat him at that. Sometimes. "You got a whole extra year on me too, that's cheating!"

[swiftscion]

"Larcei?!" The address rings loud and surprised, a bit off from the side. "Hey, Larcei!"

One, two, step-clomp, and Edward's already flung himself onto the edge of her cot, grinning from ear to ear. "You come here often?" he asks, clearly teasing, before stifling a laugh and pulling his good leg up.

"For real though, I saw you were up against Tormod! I bet he was using fire magic, but he's good at wrestling, too, sooo..." His thumb wipes at his nose as he hums. "I'm not surprised you lost, but I'm not surprised you didn't win either, you know? He's no pushover!"

Finally, he flaps a hand, sticks out his tongue. "Just, you know. Mages." His voice goes a bit mock-disgust-nasally on the last one. He's sure she empathises.

That plucky voice, could it be?

"Edward?!"

Cry out screaming, but he's already there. That's just how the bugger works! Larcei doesn't have much time to spit out his name before her one-person cot has become a double, her frostbitten body bouncing from the great crash of his weight onto the elastic material. If there's anything in the world that's going to get her to sit up, it's that.

"Oh, put a lid on it, would ya'? If we were both fightin' by ourselves, things would've been different." Less errant (and icy) flies buzzing about the enemy side, and less allies for the guardian to have to protect. Her sword is sworn to those that stand beside her--those who reach out and are called sister or brother--but where there are two, it grows heavy. It's not as easy when she can't swing with reckless abandon, looking after nothing but herself.

Still, Tormod's skill is undeniable. And Edward's word is something she trusts, so she looks at him with fire in her eyes. Her pupils are coals, her irises clouds of smog, and the sclera around a misty haze of white smoke. The scars of today have already been forgotten.

"But you seem to know the guy pretty well... If I'm beatin' him, I'll need practice." No warning, no hesitation, as she springs from her cot. Now on the opposite side of the med tent (and alerting the attention of some very concerned physicians) her eyes glisten a glaze of green. The air around her is stardust, the path to the freedom fighter a trail for her comet to blaze. At warp speed, she surges forth for their first round of wrestling.

"Heads up, Eddie!!"

[enarmor]

— fourteen. a memory of a relationship

//via memories; no longer accepting

"Sain! Have you lost your mind?!"

"Ah, my darling Primrose! Your anger is so adorable you have my heart in a bind! If loving you makes me crazy, then consider my mind long gone!"

"That's it--Right there! How can you already be spouting that sort of thing to the entire village? We got together yesterday!"

Sain blinks. The spool he had been idly toying with settles in his palm. While waiting for his love to return to their room in the inn, Sain had gotten a number of things ready. The curtains are drawn, candles lit, bed in order--there was just a small hiccup with her pillow that he had to stitch together. But a fabric snag is the least of his concerns now. Something about the gravity of her words pulls at every bit of attention he can spare. She's mad--that much is obvious--but at what for he cannot grasp. "Huh?" he blurts, sitting up in his bed. Waiting for her with open arms and freshly made sheets is off the table; he'd rather be in a comfortable position if he's to receive an earful.

His lover's hands pinch her brows together. Fury is boiling just beneath her skin, ready to spill over and scald the Lance lest he come up with a good excuse. "How can you still not understand?! What did you tell the innkeeper on your way in?"

"Hmm..." he muses, tilting his head to the side. If his memory serves him... "'Your radiance is a summer breeze amidst a world of turmoil. Let me, your knight and protector, take shelter in your arms?'"

Primrose makes a sound halfway between a scream and a growl. Hearing it a second time sends her overboard, "So it's true! Sain, no woman will ever love you if you act like this!"

"Ah--But Primrose, isn't that-"

"No! I'm gone! Find someone else to kiss up to!"

"-what it means to be a knight."

She slams the door on her way out. Stomping can be heard, down the stairs and out into the street. Which is a pity, because the weather has been awfully cold.

But Sain is the one left frozen, his outstretched hand reaching for a storm that has already blown by. He blinks again, and after a moment with his own thoughts, retracts it into his chest. Where did he go wrong? Ladies are supposed to love having their skirts chased. They're supposed to welcome a man who can spread the seedlings of his affection wherever he goes, bringing pretty smiles and laughing breasts along with him. Their soft and delicate hands are fruits of a labor tilling hearts, having grown from the mundane soil of living single. They aren't supposed to run or grow angry, or detest when flirting is a part of their savior's character.

Or so he had been led to believe, anyways.

He grabs his chin with his thumb and index, leaving his bed to peek out the windowsill. Primrose can be seen again, only this time she is sobbing. Sobbing out into the center of town, sobbing for whoever would listen. The shards of her broken heart stick out from all over her back, and Sain, for all he's worth, can't see how he could remove them.

"Ohh, such is my curse," he sighs, "destined to fall for women who don't want a knight after all."

[rafent]

— nineteen. a memory of someone they dont see anymore

19. a memory of someone they don't see anymore ( also asked by @lockpicnic & @revelale )

Mother was so beautiful. Rafal was her mirror and his twin would have been too if they'd survived past the womb. She always told him to thank her for that. Her hands were as pale and clean as her hair like they'd never seen a day of work because all the killing she did was in dragon form. Humans were beyond her, she said, even their forms, though she had no problem sleeping with them.

Mother was so ugly. She killed a thousand failures just like Rafal in her heyday and she made sure to say it. Any mate of Sombron she caught alone would be found in the company of their own pieces. Those pale, beautiful hands always had wicked intent; they raised to cup his face and center their eyes on the same level so Rafal couldn't look away.

"So cruel, Rafal. So cold. No love for mommy."

"The concubines of Sombron aren't allowed to take other mates," Rafal responded flatly to her sickly-sweet voice, clenching her wrists hard and prying them away.

Humans. Dragons. Lesser dragons. Greater dragons. None of them Father. All of them found in a bed they shouldn't be. To his criticisms her reply was eternally the same. 'Lord Sombron can take multiple mates. Why can't I?' He saw it in the hateful look of her eyes even now, but like always what came out was self-righteous, as if her lust and her jealousy and her possessiveness only adhered to Gradlon's most primordial laws- none of her flaws were flaws. Because power was—

"Power is purpose," she recited without missing a beat. A favorite saying. "With power, one has the right to do anything they want. A weakling like you could never understand." And the innocent facade dropped as she pushed her long hair to one side, running her fingers through it. Soft and smooth and white as a slipstream.

Then Mother looked at him, calculating, deadly; raising the fine hairs on the back of his neck with a single glance. Something in the air was different but it wasn't new.

"Will you report me to Lord Sombron? You—my son?"

Rafal knew this game. If he said he would she would kill him. If he said one thing but his eyes said another she would kill him. So he told the truth. "I won't because I don't have a care. You never show me any, either. When the other children call me a failure you pretend not to know me."

He stared back, unwavering. A younger and smaller microcosm of her cruelty. Her jealousy. Her coldness. Everything he knew of a mask he learned from her.

"When someone else does. When Father learns the truth and sends his Corrupted to tear you apart—I won't know you either."

The icy temperature of danger retreated from the air after that. Mother and son- predator and prey- no longer locked in contention. Distantly, the shifting of a lover in her sheets pulled her gaze away. She left him alone. Satisfied. Smiling. Like hearing those words and seeing his eyes pleased her like nothing else.

[braveryinblue]

mille-feuille - do they believe friends can become lovers? if so, when does love transcend from platonic to romantic? if not, why?

[ love headcanons ]

Of course they can.

It isn’t necessarily what he’s expecting out of life for himself, not as a marquess whose family seems to rock the unfortunate trend of kicking the bucket early, but why shouldn’t that be possible? Yeah, yeah, there’s supposedly a chance of ruining your friendship trying to move things forward, but staying quiet is for cowards.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, y’know?

Easy for him to say, though - again, he doesn’t necessarily think it something he’ll have to contend with in the future. Given his prospects in Fodlan (lol), he figures odds are he’ll wind up in Elibe with some broad Ostia’s council has arranged for him, and that’ll be that.

(As for when this hypothetical love between friends would transcend from platonic to romantic… ??? He has no damn clue, my guy. He’d be playing it by instinct, 100%. He'd just... know, right? That is how it works, isn't it? What do you mean it isn't how it works-)

[goldoanheart]

The Bean Bites Back

starter for @justices-blade

As happy as Kurth is to be back at the academy after the dreams had finally ended, and as happy he is to see all of his friends again, he is certainly not happy about how clingy his little dragon friend is being. He had only been gone for a month, right? Surely there was no cause to follow him around every moment of every day. Not to mention how much bigger Green Bean has gotten since he left. He had known that some wyverns could grow pretty fast, but this was far from what he had been expecting. If he didn’t know any better, to just let him grow a little bit longer, he would have dared to say that the poor baby could be used as a mount sooner than later. Of course, Kurthnaga still has to get over some of his own hold backs to such an idea, but raising Green Bean has certainly helped a little, even if he was gone from his side for so long.

He glances around the academy, admiring the views that he hadn’t been able to take in for so long, but such things are kind of ruined by a giant baby trying to seek attention from you at every opportunity. As much as he loves the little dragon, he’s beginning to think that he might need a little help to stop making him so clingy.

Spotting a familiar mop of brown hair, he desperately waves to Edward, trying to get the boy’s attention.

“Edward! It’s really nice to see you again, but could you help me out real quick? I seem to have a rather pressing problem!” He gestures towards Green Bean trying to lay of his weight upon Kurth at once. Goodness, he was in for a wild ride with this one, wasn’t he?

[exclted]

˚ · . @justices-blade asked:

"Oh, right!" Most of the people he's seen with rings like these had a regal kind of bearing about them: Which is, well, all three of the newcomers, come to think of it. But since noone in their earlier merry band can even get any use out of these, he might as well try asking all of them whether they can make use of these rings' supposed magic. Can't let good equipment go to waste, you know! The fact he's approaching Lucina first is mostly accredited to a lucky guess on odds a bit short of a coinflip. With that thought and exclamation, Edward jogs over to Lucina, curious and expectant all at once. With a smooth motion, he pulls the two rings he'd retrieved from the cellar floodwaters out of his coat pocket, cradling them safely in his palm so they don't fall, and present them to her. "We found these earlier! Alcryst said these have enchantments on them, but none of us can make any use of them. Can you?" edward hands lucina a prayer ring and speed ring.

Material possessions to a girl who had watched all of hers crumble, who had learned how to leave them behind, were a complex thing. Life did not require pretty things to be lived, and Lucina could not afford to mourn every one that fate had chosen to take.

But to have them returned, to hold what was lost. The rings that sit upon the boy's palm glitter with a familiarity that makes her feel suddenly less scattered in this strange place.

"I can," she answers, peeling her gaze from his hands so that she may look him in the eye proper. Gratitude warms the cool blue of her irises. "In fact, I do believe I had lost two just like this."

Delicately she accepts them, sighing as metal returns its weight to her fingers. They are not her father's sword, they are not home, but they are close enough.

"Thank you."

[atypicalsenerio]

Vulnerable Vulneraries [Edward, Laslow, Soren]

TeamKEBattlefield2023 starter for @laslow and @justices-blade

Winter has officially set in, and there isn’t a speck of green to be seen in the city. Your commanding officers tell you to make do with what is available in the city, everything that is available. If the citizens are hoarding herbs in their cupboards, you have the commander’s full permission to confiscate them for your own use. Grants 1d3 Herbs per post.

Home is where you know where everything is in the kitchen, and this was not Soren’s home.

He tossed out a few things in a cupboard, ignoring the protests of the young civillian man who lived there. Soren had kept his sword and tomes in plain view, able to intimidate his way into the small apartment with relative ease. “Listen, I don’t have any contraband, or whatever you’re looking for! Isn’t it bad enough that you won? Now what, you’ve got something against-” the man gestured at the counter, “my baking powder too?”

This was only a dream, Soren reminded himself. They needed to live. It didn’t matter much that the man who was understandably upset at him seemed like someone from Tellius. Tellius wasn’t exactly home either anyway.

His hand closed on a small pouch tucked in the corner of the cupboard and he drew it out, examining the medical herbs. “These are what we need. You’ll last the rest of the winter fine with the rest of your abundant pantry.”

Soren turned to Edward and Laslow. “Well? We have to find more.”

Maybe he should have been a bit more horrified at what he was doing, but he didn’t care.

Herb Roll: 2

[melusinezephyr]

Lord Sombron's Puppy Daycare

Among the new students are massive wolves unlike any that Fodlan has seen before: not monsters cursed by crest stones, but mounts that are frequently used by Elyos’ elite cavalry units. The Officers Academy has gone out of its way to import a small pack of these creatures, hoping to one day offer certification for aspiring Wolf Knights. However, these seasoned veterans prefer sunny afternoon naps and would rather ignore whatever nonsense that’s coming out of your mouth. You’ll have to earn their respect first. [Grants Riding +1]

mission board starter for @justices-blade and @solancea

Zephia has few things that she would be willing to see from back in Elyos, including Lord Sombron and the Four Hounds of course, but she is quite glad that one of those few things has managed to find it's way here in one way other another. Though she would never admit it to anyone that walked by as she sat by the lazy wolves, but she happened to have a quite a fond spot for some animals. Wolves were one of those. A strong animal that lived to protect it's family, they reminded her of herself in many ways. Though she had never had a real family, there is nothing that she wouldn't do for the pack that she had found.

She scratches the wolf she sits by gently under the chin, though she quickly pulls her hand away at the sound of footsteps approaching the wolves' sunny spot in the sun. She cannot be seen exposing her much softer side so easily.

The men before her now, one tall and one short, must surely be judging her as she stands, covered in wolf fur and a few droplets of drool stuck in her long silver hair.

"You two dears. Have you come here to try and tame these beasts? You know, it will not be that easy. This particular pack seems to be quite the fickle bunch. However, I would more than happily attempt to teach how to try and ride them, given I am from Elyos. It certainly wouldn't be a simple romp in the woods though."

[berglietz]

a kiss on the top(?) of the head, after leaning against them

(they're both kind of sweaty and gross and yet edward kind of just. leans against him and smushes his face into caspars hair and starts slooowly exhaling into it like a jerk.

if caspar headbutts him in the jaw for this one, he deserved it.)

kiss day 2024!

He's already warm enough to feel heat radiating off his skin all tingly-like, but he can't find it in him to shove Edward away when the boy leans into him. The adrenaline that fueled their mad dash together has already started to seep away and leave him exhausted. It's much easier to just lean into his newfound friend in turn while he catches his breath.

That is, until a hot puff of breath crawls over his scalp. A little shiver runs its way up his shoulders, and he does indeed give him a light headbutt to the jaw in retaliation.

"Dude, gross!! I'm already sticky over here, don't make it worse!"

He's grinning now as he shoves at Edward's chest. Maybe he does still have some energy left in him-- enough to rough house, anyway.

[freedomarrow]

Now You Too Can Be the 3-13 Archer || Leonardo & Edward

@justices-blade ; Bow +1

“I didn’t think this stuff would be interesting to you, actually.”

Truthfully. Leonardo is well aware of Edward’s drive to improve himself for the sake of his friends, should the need to protect them ever arise again - but he had thought that, once Edward’s talent for swordplay was discovered, his interest for other arts - including archery - would be limited to watching him sometimes and cheering with a fist bump whenever he scored a good shot.

But, hey, not that Leonardo is upset about it or anything!

“So, you remember Nox Castle, right?” Silly question, it would be difficult to forget. “We had those there, as well. Mostly used them against the Hawks - they could have penetrated our defenses easily, but ballistae are even more deadly for fliers than a regular bow is.”

(Because they shoot with so much force that it can punch straight THROUGH them. That sure was a sight that his mind remembers vividly even though it does not exactly want to. Anyway,)

“Honestly, if they want to use those for a mock battle, I sure hope they load them with duds.” He holds back a sigh. Maybe mock battles are genuinely exciting to those who have never seen a real one. But it is what it is. Having used a ballista in proper combat in the past, Leonardo paid precious little attention to the lecture given before they came to the field for the practical demonstration. He tried at first, until it became clear that they will not say anything he does not already know.

“But they are nifty for letting you attack while staying safe yourself, of course. You can rotate them to a degree to aim at more targets... blah blah blah -” he interrupts himself with a quiet chuckle. This is Edward he is talking to. “I think it’ll be better if we just try it out in practice instead of me talking so much.”

One of the ballistae placed on the field for demonstration purposes stands empty and ready, a few training arrows available for some attempts. “Want to try? I’ll help you if you need me.”

[arcelerity]

a kiss to prove a point 

("see? see?! i told you i've done this before!")

Edward is, in fact, a good kisser.

It started as banter, of course. Edward said something about his kissing skills or something like that, Tormod doesn't really remember at this point, and he'd doubted it. Edward? Kissing someone? Didn't compute. (Unless he and Leonardo had finally stopped dancing around whatever the heck they have going on. Which they hadn't.)

Edward insisted, though, that not only had he kissed people, but he was good at it. Now, Tormod's no expert, but he's had a few kisses and he's really not convinced!

They're both bullheaded, the conversation kept going, and now he's got his (admittedly cute!) friend's lips on his and, well, okay. He'll take the loss here.

[swiftscion]

You know, in hindsight, it's kind of hard to set up the perfect ambush if you purposely picked the jingliest, jangliest bell you could get your hands on to put on your festive hat of choice. Realising this, Edward simply drops any attempt at stealth and wholesale jumps at Larcei as soon as he spots her, skidding into her path and pulling Caladbolg out of its sheath to swing at her, fully expecting a parry or dodge and ready to adjust accordingly.

"Happy Winter Festival!!" he shouts, by way of greeting, before moving to disengage. "I got a present for you!" He holds up his messenger bag, then lets it drop against his hip again as emphasis. "It's actually not us beating the stuffing out of eachother, by the way."

Without further ado, he stuffs his free hand into the bag, shuffling around wildly, before realising this is best done with two hands, resheathing Caladbolg and resuming his search; Finally going 'aha!' and pulling his arm back out with a little parcel, containing a miniature carving of a wolf with a star between its teeth, along with a pair of star-patterned black stockings.

"Here, for you!" He puffs up proudly, patting Caladbolg's hilt. "You can repay me with a good fight, by the way — I need a warmup, it's freaking cold…!"

That idiot. If Edward seriously thought he could get the upper hand in a fight versus her, then maybe it's high time she knock some sense into him. Larcei watches his entire attack from start-to-finish, unsheathing her stellar Brave Sword in time to catch Caladbolg's swing. But damn is this thing heavy! As metal grinds against metal--sparks flying this way and that--her eyes blaze with roused spirit. This is how warriors ought to greet one another: with their swords!

The only key to their blade-lock is brute strength, which the scion places into her lower half with a step forward. Her power has always come from the legs. When she uses them in tandem with her sword-arm, even her lithe frame can move mountains. But she doesn't get the chance to get serious before he moves back. For now.

She's smiling by the time he opens his mouth.

"Oh?" says a mocking tone, "You almost had me excited, Edward." So what, pray tell, could be better than a battle with her greatest rival? Larcei stands on her toes as Edward does his rummaging around, shifting her stance once or twice to get a sneak peak at his pouch. She isn't so lucky, and sees the statue for the first time as the boy unveils it.

Her jaw drops.

That kid couldn't have possibly made something like this, could he? Her blade is lowered and she walks closer, taking the gift into her spare hand to marvel at in awe. It looks like it was done by a pro, but at the same time is so personalized that it could have only been conceived by his baffling mind. She searches for a signature, and finds none.

"H-Hey, this is really cool...!" And with the carving tucked under Larcei's fist, Edward receives a swift punch to his shoulder. "The hell are you gettin' me this for?! Now I've gotta pay you back for it!"

That, she silently swears. Beneath her breath, beneath every fiery word--beneath the bond of friendship she envisions as a rope tying them together. No sword stroke could cut that rope, and now, it's adorned with the gold of Larcei's Isaachian promise.

"Alright Edward..." she taunts, setting the statue down. Her wings unburdened, she is free to fly at him with her scorching smirk.

"Let's go! Maybe dodging this will get you fired up--!!"

[grimstalkr]

🙋‍♀️ It's good he's great at remembering faces, but seeing a blonde, non-gloomy Tharja still makes him double take.

"Oh hey, Tharja? Trying a new look...?"

"Oh hey, Edward! Hehe, what do you think?" She asked, tilting her head. She seemed openly delighted to see her friend there in front of her. She felt great for once. Not nervous or antsy or even awkward!

"I just had to get up and out of my room today. All of those bugs and slimy creatures were soooo scary!"