#Manuela Casagranda RP

[ladivamagnifica]

The Interview 💋

Urgh, she was going to kill Catherine. Oh joy of joys, to be awoken before the sun had arisen on her one and only day off, still sore and tender from the faculty drinks party the night prior, only to be dragged out of her bedchambers, still wearing last-night’s makeup and her dress stained with mustard and wine, and debriefed that in five minutes’ time she would be meeting with a fake newspaper journalist who was actually part of a thief group intending on scouring the grounds for some sort of lost treasure. It was up to her to stall for time, by any means necessary, and that everyone else of use was nowhere to be found or busy. 

Bullshit.

Luckily she had been left alone for two frantic minutes in the audience chamber before the Archbishop had seen her; enough time to brush the noticeable tangles from her hair, smudge the eyeliner to make it somewhat decent, find the vial of perfume in per pocket to douse herself in it and spot two holes in her pantyhose tights, grumble about them and then reapply her lipstick. Goddess knows what she actually looked like- abyssal and clearly dishevelled, what with the look of disgust Seteth had cast her away, but even so, passing by a mirror on her way to the meeting room revealed that man oh man, she could make anything look good- especially when the stained dress in question was her old songstress dress, blood red with a black lace hem and plunging neckline. The knitted ebony shawl had also seen better days, but to her mind it all reminded her of her La Carlotta performances- hangover and all.

Her mood further lifted when the ‘interviewer’ had walked in, clearly nervous and out of his depth, and oblivious to the trap which had been set. Nevermind the remnants of her headache, or the ache of her bones. She set her shoulders back, assets in full view and watched him stumble to his chair. Since they wanted her to stall for time, perhaps she could have a little fun with him? It had been a while since she’d had this sort of opportunity, after all…

“What has led you to where you are today?”

“Oh, cute! Straight down to business, but clearly distracted.” She thought.

“I suppose that is the polite way of asking why the ‘Divine Songstress’, the Goddess’ incarnation of heavenly song who blessed the Mittelfrank Opera Company with her tenure, decided to leave her glamorous life of encores and roses for the… quieter halls of Fodlan’s monastery?”

Manuela cocked her head in her hands, leaning forwards, towards the interviewer before her.  It was a practised motion which caused the table to pull down the plunging neckline of her dress just a little bit more, and as if on cue, his eyes flitted downwards. 

She smiled. 

“If it wasn’t such an interesting tale, I might have called you impertinent- presume what you will, but the life of a prima donna is a hard one to live, and harder still to maintain: your role doesn’t end when the curtain falls for the final time each evening; nobles will eek out of you performance after performance; you will be the talk of the town and host of every well-to-do dinner party, on the arm of a man each night…”

The tears welling in her eyes were part of the act, of course. How many times had she played this part before? Had not Duke Aegir once kissed her feet desperately to stop these tears? What of Count Hevring, who too was moved to tears and had carried her to his bedchambers not a single teardrop later? What of those standing ovations as her arias of La Rosina and Carlotta carried through into an endless night of rapture, ending with honeyed wine on her tongue and the ghost of a thousand men’s kisses. Those were the days! 

And how marvellous those tears carried the black kohl from her eyes to add emphasis to the guise she was but a vulnerable woman! “Bellas always dream of that moment, stepping into the light and feeling as if the Goddess herself is watching you sing your heart out. They dream of the men that come afterwards, kissing her hands and lavishing her with gifts, roses and perfumes. They think they will beg her to be theirs; of nights far from the opera and singing songs in young mens’ beds but-”

She stopped herself and turned her doe-eyes towards the young man before her. 

“… All this is to say, is that you’re going to have to buy me dinner if you want more. I could even tell you the whole story- of just what happens after the curtain falls for the final time.” She dropped her voice into a whisper. “Of what these men do when they have their divas in their arms and by their throats… What shall we say, on the eighth chime of the clocktower this evening?”

“What do you believe are your greatest strengths? Your greatest weaknesses?”

Phooey. He hadn’t taken the bait like he should… well no matter, as far as she was concerned, she had all the time in the world for this interview. “Weaknesses?” She clicked her tongue. “Ah, ah, ah, a woman never reveals her secrets without something in return.”

Despite her annoyance, she did try to stifle her sighs. She remained outwardly still batting her eyelids at the man before her, whom to no one’s surprise but his own was growing red in the face like a tomato. A boy, more like, barely even old enough to grow a full beard, and certainly while she liked them young and sprightly, this was a tad too young for even her tastes, but the Archbishop had commanded that they needed a great deal of time for the knights look around for his ‘associates’ somewhere in the monastery, no matter how much more interested she was in crawling back underneath the covers of her bed and sleeping like the dead.

The scoundrels had claimed they were part of a newspaper of the Empire, here to ask for an interview from Manuela herself, but the former prima donna would have been able to smell the lie from a mile away. After all, she had been featured on every last newspaper at some point in her life, to date, and still editors would beseech her in scented letters to return for interviews and private shows. Adorable really. And irksome, that lowly thieves would think their simple tricks would work on her of all people.

“Naturally my best features would be my good looks; my voice, which one starstruck suitor said was that of  ‘one thousand songbirds singing in unison, ubiquitous to all of its majesty’, and the fact that I’m not just a deliciously gorgeous- and available- woman of stature. I’m also a physician and an instructor at Garreg Mach’s Officer Academy. That’s right, I guess you could say that I’m living proof that you can have it all…”

The subtle whistling through the doorframe of her quarters went unnoticed by her captive. To anyone else one might have thought it was the wind, for the monastery was incredibly old and awfully prone to wayward breezes, but to her trained ears, Catherine’s signal meant that the knights had apprehended the false journalists and were lying in wait for this last snake before her. Time to wrap things up, she just had to be careful of that knife he had in his jacket. 

From underneath the table she extended her leg slowly, the tip of her heeled shoe finding his shin with ease and tracing it upwards until she felt the soft flesh of his thigh give in under the gentle pressure of her foot. He jolted from the contact, eyes widening and spluttering something incomprehensible. Not that she cared in the slightest, rubbing little circles where her shoe tip rested and smiling a smile that had taken the hearts of many men. 

“Ah,” She sighed and cradled her head in both hands,” It truly is a pity though. When placed on a pedestal such as I, men seem just far too intimidated by me. Truly, it is enough to break this diva’s heart! - and now, look at me: it's been so long that I’ve forgotten what a man’s touch feels like.”

One of her shoulder straps fell, draping alongside her shawl to draw the eye once more to her bosom. Her foot reached higher and she pressed down. 

“What I wouldn’t give to let someone touch me again. To give into that cardinal desire I so crave. To take me in his arms and mark me as his own- oh, if even just for one night!”

He audibly gulped them, and her lips turned wicked, “You don’t know what it's like. I’m so desperate these days, tired of having to swallow these feelings and sick of only my hands for company that I’d give just about anything to feel that way again, back when I was the starlight and moon on the stage!”

The best lies were half-truths barely concealed, and as she turned to shed more tears, letting last night’s makeup run down her cheeks and worrying her lip all puffy, she knew she had him. It was adorable really, how all it took was but a few words and some flesh shown for him to begin panting like a hound; he was doing an excellent job of keeping himself somewhat controlled, but she knew better than anyone that he had been ensnared.

“I-If a, err,  story were to be, um, written about your life, what ro-role would you play?”

Ah, the finale was at hand- or, well, foot. After a few minutes of ‘trying to recompose herself’ in front of him, he was practically salivating and she was euphoric. Nothing like a good performance to raise one’s spirits, and while the knife in his pocket was certainly a worry, that was what coded messages and safewords were for. She was almost done with him- Catherine could stand to let her have a little more fun given she had ruined her post-hangover lazy day.

“Hmm, who else, but to reprise my role as Casagranda Magnifica! Oh, my you really are stupid aren’t you. Don’t worry, Handsome, I’d consider that a compliment.”

If only she could bottle up that pitiful, confused expression and drink it later. How delicious he looked at that moment.

“Hm? ‘What am I saying?’” Even to her own ears her laugh was callous.

“Ah, I apologise, I meant nothing by it. It is quite refreshing to speak to someone who knows nothing of the ways of the theatre.” She withdrew her leg from his person, and swore he almost followed it were it not for the table between them, “Boring old fools like Hanneman might be content to let others tell their story, but for all the highs and lows I have ever experienced; the passing of dearest friends and mentors, lovers long gone and fleeting… I have never, and will NOT ever, be relegated to the sidelines of my life, immortalised in opera or otherwise. When I first took to the stage, my mentor, the prima diva before me, gave me a piece of advice that I shall gladly impart to you now: ‘If you do not sing when the light is upon you, you will never sing at all.’

You see, I have always, and will forever, choose to sing. Be that an aria on the stage or a performance in the classroom… Opera and I, music and my soul; the stage and my heart, we are eternally entwined like lovers.”

Bam! A dozen knights burst in through the door to apprehend the thug, toppling the old table in the process. The look the man had cast her way was blacker than pitch, but where she should have felt fear, she only felt giddy- these days being able to exercise such power over the ‘stronger’ sex was few and far between, so caught up in craving an earnest type of love that she was, but oh Goddess, she felt drunk on it! Catherine herself was bodyblocking and escorting her giggling self away from the arrest; leading them towards the Archbishop’s chambers where Rhea awaited for them both.

“Brava, ‘Voca Divina’.”

She playfully slapped Catherine’s arm. Her smile was infectious and she stumbled. “Oh hush you. Now, I do believe that I have tomorrow off for all my trouble?”

[theofficersacademy]

Manuela Casagranda has arrived!

Welcome to the Officers Academy!

Please remember to follow the Masterlist and all your fellow colleagues. You have been granted the Miasma and Nosferatu spells to start your journey with. We look forward to seeing the growth of your true potential.

May the Goddess light your path.

- Mod Key

[ladivamagnifica]

Content warning: Body horror, human experimentation, animal experimentation and graphic descriptions of corpses.

🦇💍💀🩸

Urgh, this was far too early in the morning for anyone to be truly awake- yet here she was, rather reluctantly, and taking the arm of her handsome partner who helped her onto her horse, getting ready to journey to the outskirts of Garreg Mach Village, where far too much hassle awaited them. Perhaps it was a good thing then, that she had gotten her wardrobe muddled and worn the old, black dress which was littered with stains- mustard, medicinal concoctions and blood- instead of her nice blue one. From what Catherine and the others had said about these dastardly rings, the chaos they created was secondary to the abyssal strength they provided, and honestly, that alone meant this would be no easy mission: 

Only two of the several dozen missing individuals had been found, and neither had been alive when they were at last discovered, half-buried and far off the beaten track-road to Faerghus Territory; examination of those corpses revealed that those bodies had gone through a swift metamorphosis, causing severe muscle scarring and lesions of the skin, as well as additional growth of both sets of canine teeth, and all while they were alive- Goddess, those poor souls must have been in agony! Worse still was the state of their internal organs, for it seemed that no part of them had remained human: the livers were engorged and had developed a secondary, internal sac which contained traces of foreign blood- the same kind that was present in their mouths and oesophagus- and there was a near-absence of their stomachs and intestines, for both sets of organs had shrivelled up and turned grangenous; likely that was the cause of their deaths, but those few days between becoming afflicted and their demise would have been maddeningly cruel. 

Perhaps to the fools who wore those rings of ‘bloodlust’, they were granted a more controlled version of this curse that gave them unnatural strength and the ability to draw power from the blood imbibed from their enemies, but to anyone else who was bitten and survived, death and misery awaited them… Last night’s meat pie was threatening to rear its ugly head again just thinking about it, and she shuddered, but if there was one good thing that had come from the suffering of these poor souls, it was that Manuela had finally concocted a preliminary antidote after three endless nights with those cadavers and her entire cabinet of medicines. It had worked on the poor mice she had afflicted with the cadaverous blood, and just as it had apparently occurred with humans, Manuela had witnessed the transformation from normal mouse into something supernaturally savage. 

All the gore which proceeded that discovery culminated in a treatment of gildering wildleaf, mana-imbued foxglove and wyvern bile; the theory was that if the afflicted mice could imbibe the stuff and, when coupled with high doses of healing magic, return to normal, then hopefully, hopefully, the same could be done for humans too… 

Yet all this was just conjecture, and that made her very, very nervous. She was fiddling, barely paying attention to her surroundings as she let Raven lead the way; too lost in her own head about worrying if the treatment would even work on larger subjects and that they also had no real way of knowing if the ‘antidote’ was even a permanent solution- and what would surely follow any cured patient would be complications following blood consumption, just like she had read about in cases of cannibalism. The volunteers who worked at her infirmary had already been asked to be ready and prepare a number of beds for anyone they might find today, but Manuela had the awful suspicion that the beds would remain empty. How the affliction transformed them into monsters just simply put too much pressure on their heart; the rot from within that subsequently occurred as the internal systems of the body bypassed the stomach and intestines to be in favour of the liver wasn’t just something, supernatural or otherwise, that a creature could sustain even in the short-term.

She swallowed down those thoughts. Surely… there was little to be fretting about when they did not yet have all the information, and she could only wait and see what their delve into the mountainside laboratory brought- and yes, delve, because the secret to these fiends having hid their operation for so long from the Knights had been to utilise the myriad of caves and wyvern eyries that littered the mountain cradle; the main laboratory which the Knights had yet to discover was suspected to be remote from the others, across The Bleak Ravine deep in the heart of the hollow Seirean Mountain, and then a little further. About half a day’s travel on leisurely horseback from the Village. 

A stench began to permeate the air as they came into the shadow of the great mountain; gone was the earthy musk of cattle and crispness of fresh snowfall, and despite the ever-present cold that consumed the Oghma Mountains, Manuela found herself shivering for an entirely different reason: Blood, a thick and heady trail of it appearing on the path ahead, accompanied by the greying and frost-bitten flesh of limbs that hung with red-rope from the tree boughs. The wind was faint here, yet in the gentle breeze of the winter snowfall those horrid ornaments swayed with deafening silence.

It brought a wretched sweetness to her senses.

Her throat went dry. 

The closer they got, the more grim things became, for the rotting carcasses of carrion birds were in the shadows of the hanging limbs- it was a small comfort that they, at least, seemed to have been part of the natural cycle of death and decay, some partly torn apart by scavengers and some merely just a collection of feathers and a gangly foot. Yet still, it was stomach-churning to pass by so many ‘trophies’ in this madman’s garden of evil, and especially when they reached the entrance to the cave, where it seemed the freshest kills were displayed in all their bloodied glory… Along with their heads, glassy eyed and looking skyward in horror.

“Barbaric… How utterly- barbaric.” She breathed out, and were it not for Raven’s strong presence, his hand on her mare’s reigns so as to lead both their mounts into the darkness, she might have remained transfixed there.

For an eternity they travelled in darkness, over the rickety rope bridge that stitched the Bleak Ravine’s halves together with a single suture, following the malignant smell of death and copper until at last they reached a wooden door set into the carved stone of an unassuming tunnel’s side. She could barely breathe, barely move beyond dismounting from her horse and uttering a short, hurried prayer that if nothing else, her faithful mare would not succumb to the fates of so many others, even if she and Raven should not make it out alive.

From the corner of her eye it seemed that she was not the only one so harrowed by their present circumstances. He was certainly managing better than her, but a thin sheen of sweat was upon Raven’s brow, eyes furrowed and biting back a snarl at the door. Her eyes flickered to the ring in his pocket, and she swallowed down the worry that such an accursed object could afflict him without direct touch- even if so close to the mother evil, she doubted its child could feed off of the bloodied air here, that wasn’t how it worked, right? Right… Even though she had never even dared to touch the horrid ring herself, gloves or otherwise, and so she was blissfully ignorant of how such power felt. Catherine had offered one for her to research, but she had swiftly put that idea down. Certainly not- she had been tempting fate enough afflicting mice with the tainted blood.

“Raven…” She licked her lips, and her breath caught in her throat when his eyes snapped towards her, “A-are you okay? Are you ready?”

@peerlessscowl

night of long fangs

[professor-byleth]

Manuela is ready to play~

[garregmachuniversity]

*+: / CONGRATULATIONS, EMMA!

ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ɢᴍᴜ ʀᴘ! We’re SO excited to have Manuela with us. Please find your invitation to the discord channel in your inbox/DMs. If you have any questions or just want to talk about your character beforehand, please don’t hesitate to drop us a message on the main !!

APPLICATION FOR MANUELA CASAGRANDA UNDER THE CUT:

Welcome, MANUELA CASAGRANDA, SHE/HER from PRIMROSE HILL, LONDON! Your expertise has granted you the role of THEATRE INSTRUCTOR & GUIDANCE COUNSELLOR at Garreg Mach University. It’s a huge honour for someone who’s only ( SECRETLY ) THIRTY-SIX to have been in your position for FIVE years. As someone who’s GIFTED & KIND-HEARTED but also LICENTIOUS & DISORDERLY, I can’t wait to see what you’ll do next. OOC: Emma, 24, she/her, GMT

[tripolarity]

There are still some positions available in the staff!

Check out our RP and consider applying today.

[lieblxng]

@para-doxxed​ | Mun’s Asks: RP Edition | Accepting

12 - Are there any characters you’re interested in wanting to roleplay as? // :3c //

I’ve already answered this here, but since I didn’t go into full detail of exact muses, I’ll answer this again! Some of the muses of mine that I’m interested in bringing here are:

Professor Augustine Sycamore (Pokémon)

A canon Mario character without any development at all, so basically he’s my OC fdjnfgdkj- But he relies a lot on the main Mario cast and some characters from Dream Team, so I would have to get a proper footing and learn to trust the Mario RPC before I would introduce him (I’m very protective of my OCs ankjdfd-)

A shiny!Shaymin (Pokémon) who cannot transform into her sky form! She’s a little kid, but she’s got bite. Very inspired off of the Shaymin in the Giratina movie.

Professor ??? Venomous (OK KO: Let’s be Heroes)

??? “El Muñeco” ??? (Guacamelee!) this fandom is very very tiny, i barely find any fan art for it, so I’m doubting I’ll find an RP community for it. ;;

Princess Arianna Caledonia (Etrian Odyssey)

Bertrand de Gervaise (Etrian Odyssey) - same goes for Ari and Betrand here! They both have special places in my heart, yet the fandom for Etrian Odyssey is very small. Bigger than Guacamelee! so maybe there’s a chance?

Dimentio (Mario) s....stinky man.............i hate him but with my closest rp partner’s rendition of him, i learned to like this guy - but i still hate canon dimmy nfNKJFGH-

Dimitri Alexandre Blayiddyd (Fire Emblem) I’ve been thinking about adding him along with this blog for the longest time! But I don’t know, should I? I was planning to add Edelgard too, but now that I’ve played her route, hhHHHHH-

And some complete new ones I haven’t touched, but are still interested in maybe bringing are:

Raspberry Mousse Cookie (Cookie Run)

Hilda Valentine Goneril (Fire Emblem)

Ferdinand von Aegir (Fire Emblem)

Ignatz Victor (Fire Emblem)

Marianne von Edmund (Fire Emblem)

Manuela Casagranda (Fire Emblem)

Rhea (Fire Emblem)

Sitri Eisner (Fire Emblem)

Leon and Hop’s Mother (Pokémon) oh she’s a big one i’ve been thinking about for so long!!

Rapunzel (Tangled)

Eugene Fitzherbert (Tangled) - I cope a lot with raps and eugene auanjhdfgkjh ;;;;

[garreg-mach-rp]

The enrollment page has been updated!

We have lost plenty of very fun characters so there are plenty of spaces open. Characters such as Mercedes, Hubert, Shamir, and many more! 

[ladivamagnifica]

Cosy House (Manuela and Sakura)

@gentlenekomata

Three knocks in quick succession had Manuela rushing to check her makeup one last time. This might not have been a date, but it certainly warranted pulling out all the stops- she had even cleaned her quarters from top to bottom for this!

It had all started three days ago when, quite unexpectedly, Manuela had chanced upon hearing the divine voice of Lady Ichinomiya Sakura, one of the princesses of Hoshido. Rubbing shoulders with royalty and nobility was nothing new to the songstress of course, but even Manuela was in awe of her voice- so foreign yet elegant in its intonation, and wholly something she needed to hear more of, but of course it was simply bad manners to ask a princess to perform on a whim, so Manuela had mustered the courage to invite the lady to dinner at her apartment one evening. If nothing else, the pleasant company would be more than enough. Yet trouble had started when she realised that she had no bloody clue what sort of foods Lady Sakura did or did not eat; worse still was that in order to make a good first impression, Manuela also needed to be an excellent chef… which she certainly was not. She considered herself decent enough when she helped out in the kitchens of the monastery, but for years now the art of cooking had been a skill she had no need to practise- as a prima donna she employed her own personal chef for the townhouse, and here in the monastery the kitchen staff and others did most of the cooking, except when the schedule had put her down for the responsibility. 

So, in what she had thought as an excellent judgement, Manuela had asked Sakura’s retainers on what the lady preferred when eating in the company of others. The consensus had been fried chicken…  At least it was a simple dish to prepare, and that was all she would say about that, even if it did perplex her how such a woman of grace and beauty liked something so greasy and acne-inducing.

But alas, that was not the end of it, for further issues arose when Manuela realised that, try as she might, it was impossible for her to make anything fried without it being unpalatable and dry; the Hoshido sauce she had attempted to make from scratch was also a dud, and with each failed attempt, she grew more and more desperate for it to work- she would not serve anything else to the princess, and in order for this evening to bear fruit of musical collaboration, she had to serve fried hoshido chicken!

In the end, two hours before Sakura was due to arrive, Manuela had admitted defeat and paid an eye-watering amount to some of the students of the academy to make her the dish and deliver it in time for the princess’ arrival. Which left her just enough time to freshen up and add the finishing touches to welcoming her guest, including dusting off for the third time her newly purchased shamisen and koto which now sat near her dining table, next to her violin, lyre, harp and organetto. The red rug of her room had been freshly beaten; the surfaces spotless, and the folding screen, another new purchase, did well to separate her bed from the space, as she was well aware that nobles thought it unseemly for a meeting space to have direct line of sight to the sleeping area- her bed was made though, just in case!

“Lady Sakura, I’m honoured that you made it. Please, come in and make yourself comfortable while I put on some tea.” Manuela wore her most brilliant smile and bowed, holding the door open for the princess who crossed past the threshold.

As the kettle on the fireplace began to boil, Manuela retrieved the still steaming-hot baskets of fried chicken (that had the richest, shiniest red glaze Manuela had ever seen and smelt divine) from the mantle of the fireplace, placing them on the table and sitting up straight to mimic the perfect posture of Sakura, though as her back was used to being hunched over her instruments and patients, it soon protested with a persistent and dull ache.

"How was your day, Lady Sakura? I'd be delighted to hear about what keeps a lady of such stature as yourself busy during the daylight hours."

[ladivamagnifica]

Lost Letters I (Open Thread)

A crumpled piece of parchment, lying alongside others scattered about the gardens. An open window from the second floor betrays the thief who stole away these private longings as the howling wind; even now, in the indigo evening chill, it plays with the forgotten heartstrings Manuela has penned much like how a cat plays with its prey, carelessly and cruelly. Thank goodness the songstress is already asleep, the bedside candle unlit, but it would be irresponsible to allow her personal letters to remain scattered around where anyone could view them, no? 

TW: mildly sexually suggestive content, minor character death, violence

“To the Love which I have yet to know,

In these nights of melancholy you haunt me, Sweetest, with the absence of your lips upon mine and the void of your starlight eyes; in this vast world, far and wide, I wonder where I might find you- if I should ever be so lucky. Is our story one where we shall meet and see the puzzle-pieces of our souls interlock in an instant, or are we doomed to be forever distant and strangers to one another? What compels the Goddess to write us as we are, and what will She pen upon Life’s paper?

If I were to become the author, our story would start on a moonlit night, caught in the summer rain of Enbarr’s ivory streets: I am younger, more foolish and naive; you are ever-handsome and a scoundrel, and it all begins as I walk miserably on the arm of another- a nobleman whom you have been paid to kill. It is child’s play to one so dangerous, and though I am afraid, the ring on my finger at once becomes not a chain around my throat but weightless as his body falls to the cobbled street with a silent cry; you look at me only when the deed is done, and I am seized by a twisted and blackened longing to witness more of the raw strength those arms of yours possesses… and how your hands would feel around my throat, caught in a lovers’ embrace. Perhaps you see that carnal desire, for I am soon swept away and taken, much like a princess captured by a dragon, away from the monotony and liquor of the stage to live in the woods where you reign as king. Each night you come to me unbeckoned yet wanted; each morning I come to your loving arms and sinful lips… 

A fanciful dream, is it not, My Love? Alas, I fear I have kept you waiting too long, for I am no longer the ‘Jewel of the Andrestian Empire’- is that what keeps you away from me? I fear you would think of me as an old crone now; the crows have begun to leave their marks upon my skin when I laugh, and the colours of my past have begun to cause aches in my bones during the winter months. Have the years done the same to you? Goddess I hope so… I hope you are alive to age alongside me, even if I should know you at a distance, or as a fleeting moment. To believe otherwise would surely kill me.

All my love,

M.”

[theofficersacademy]

Thank you so much to everyone who threaded with Mannie, but alas, I need to drop her for now.

Manuela Casagranda has been dropped and is now available!

- Mod Ree

[ladivamagnifica]

Blood (Manuela and Ishtar)

Faculty and Staff Mission Task Board: An overnight outage to the stables’ heating system results in the deaths of several wyverns, personal mounts and beloved lesson drakes alike. In their grief, passionate students vowed to sleep overnight in the wyvern stables to help them keep warm through the night. [Grants Flying +1] @mjolnrr

“Oh Goddess of the Earth and Sky; She who cast the stars to fill the endless night and set our hearts ablaze with love, how can thou be-est so cruel in your design, so abundant in our misery? When you took your throne amongst the heavens did you imagine bearing witness to this, the innocent grief of children? Of cold and bitter winters so merciless in their making that they could suck the life from our beasts and yet still hunger for more? Has thine heart e’er muttered a beat or hath the ice of this season quelled your love for us? Is this our retribution? Did we, your loyal servants, not do enough..?”

The solemn winter had brought with it a terrible agony to the monastery. Truly, it was hard to believe that such a tragedy had occurred all in the space of a single night: that unbeknownst to them all as they slept restless in their chambers one evening, the ravenging winds of the storm had wrenched open the stable doors, and bereft of their protection, stolen away the heating crystals used to keep alive and well the wyvern, drake and pegasi mounts, beloved creatures who had served their masters well. With such hateful weather and everyone confident that the stables, which had weathered worse storms in the past, would be secure, the need to check in on the animals the following morning had been leisurely at best; no one had heard their cries during the winds howls and shrieks. 

But that was all Manuela could hear now. 

They haunted the dormitories like demons, behind every closed door and sneaking into the shadows of every corridor. They whispered in the great hall the tragedy over and over again; they made the food taste bitter, laced with tears, and when the time had come to hold a requiem in the cathedral for the beasts they loved, those wretched cries became their hymns aplenty. Her own misery had joined the choir, lamenting the loss of darling foal she had watched over since its birth three months ago. A charming thing with silvery hair and striking blue eyes- now only gazing into the Abyss, at Death and its sweet silver bridle.

These bitter tears were not the first she had shed, and with venom she cursed that they would also not be the last; kneeling in reflection as she was, before the statue of Saint Cethleann, patron of grief amongst a great number of other things.

It had not escaped her notice that at some point during her private contemplation that another had joined her side, sometime between the end of her prayers and the absence of almost everyone else who had attended the requiem ceremony. She, like herself, wore drying tear streaks and an air of profound melancholy- perhaps not unusual given the circumstances, yet the air of loss was absent for this woman, and still, all the same she stood humbled and listless.

“It is cruel isn’t it?” Manuela said and sighed. “Those poor children… Some of them had been raising their mounts for months- it will be some time before they can learn to love again.”

The woman said nothing in reply, yet compulsion had Manuela desperate to end the silence.

“Even I have to admit that I’ve been undone by this tragedy… Morale was already low, so consumed by the bleakness of winter that we are, and now we are plunged into despair… I despise how easy it will all be to forget our sorrows. Not everyone, no, will be able to let go of this misery and I have no doubt some will be consumed by it, desperate to assign blame and make sense of something so utterly- well, unfortunate, the infirmary shall be haunted by this for many weeks to come.”

She waited a moment; yet again all she was met with was the disquiet of her thoughts.

“Ah, forgive me. I shall leave you to your mourning.” 

Rising, Manuela wiped the fresh tears from her eyes and turned, intending to spend the rest of this impromptu day wallowing in bed and finding solace in sleep, but what she had not anticipated was for the stranger next to her to speak.

“No, please… Stay.”

[ladivamagnifica]

Purging Flames

@goldentalent Faculty Mission Board Prompt: Oddly, the mages notice that Reason magic has been on the fritz lately. Even the most experienced sages find it difficult to control their magic, never mind the practicing novices that keep burning themselves and injuring others. A late-night attempt to study for a Reason exam quickly gets out of hand and sends a classroom up in flames. The Knights of Seiros and other members of the monastery’s facilities must rush in quickly in order to contain the fire and save lives. [Grants Reason +1]

The sky was a sickly amber as she beheld the chaos below- a brief moment of respite on this night of madness- and not for the first time this evening- nay, not for the first time this bleak season- did Manuela wonder if the Goddess was intent on punishing them all for some unknown transgression: the winter months were always miserable up here in the mountains, but this time it had been made so much worse with the loss of their mounts during last month’s snowstorm and the recent fiasco involving bootleg emblem rings, each new disaster straining their faith and resolve. Oh, there was no doubt they would survive it all, but even the most devout amongst them were growing tired… and the great blaze which consumed the classrooms below was doing precious little to raise morale.

The scent of smoke had awoken her rudely, followed by the hurried and frantic cries for her assistance from the knights beyond her chamber door. Three hours later and the stink of blood, medicine and fire had yet to leave her, even after she had sent the last of the current influx of casualties away healed and bandaged. Fourteen students, eight knights… Seven of those children would sadly be scarred for life, burned in the mind and soul, but thus far they should all be thankful that the fire had taken no lives as of yet…

Manuela looked down at the young lady who occupied the bed she stood nearest to, wrapped nearly head to toe in bandages; her hair singed and her breathing only just returning to a faint and steady rhythm. Sweet and pitiful Goldmary had been the first to discover the fire and those trapped within the classrooms, valiantly leaping into action to save her fellow classmates but in turn being trapped underneath a fallen beam; had not the knights been alerted so soon after Goldmary decided to play heroine, there might have been a real tragedy on their hands that even Manuela could not fix… She clicked her tongue, this one was certainly meant for the Golden Deer House, that was for sure! As reckless and over the top as the rest of that rambunctious lot- and that was coming from a former diva!

Outside the fire was finally burning itself out, kept under control by the knights who had formed a line passing water buckets from the well, and despite the growing darkness, it was clear that the poor Blue Lions and the Black Eagles were going to be bereft of their classrooms until at least the end of the month; the poor things involved had claimed that one of her fellow instructors (if she found out their name she was going to have their head) had mistakenly given them the impression that despite Reason magic being inexplicably temperamental and uncontrollable- and Lady Rhea expressly banning its use unless absolutely necessary during the last faculty meeting- there was going to still be a test at the end of the month on the subject. Of course the more studious and conscientious amongst them had been sent into a panic and planned for a late-evening study session, eventually becoming a cross-house meet-up in the Black Eagle classroom. Who started the fire, she did not know- nor did she care to find out, because as far as Manuela was concerned, once she was done reminding Miss Goldmary the value of her young and beautiful life, she was going to wring the neck of the foolish instructor who had been so careless with their words and caused all of this. Aaaand, if that person was Hanneman of all people, she was going to scream and be on trial for murder by morning’s first light!

Really, now that the panic and anxiety of dealing with so many patients at once had settled down, the exhaustion was giving way to a second wind borne from righteous fury and fuelled by the need to let it out on someone. Fools! The lot of them, so concerned about others that they merrily threw themselves into danger and created more and more work for herself and the kind volunteers of the infirmary. Poor Mercedes would need to be excused from classes in the morning because she had been dragged along to help heal so many wounded.

A small groan coming from the cracked lips of Goldmary drew Manuela away from the window, eyes snapping towards her in an instant with worry, but her shoulders relaxed as it merely seemed the poor girl was beginning to wake up from the medicine-induced sleep she had been under. No doubt she was in a lot of pain, but Manuela had done all she could to numb the burns and bend the broken bones in her legs; time would heal the rest, but there would be scarring on the backs of her thighs where she had been pinned- easily hidden, but a reminder of her folly for all eternity.

“Oh, so you’re finally awake, hm? How are we feeling?”

[theofficersacademy]

I'd like to drop Manuela and place a reserve on Ares from fe4 please.

Manuela Casagranda has been dropped and is now available!

Ares has been reserved!

You have one week (3/20) to submit your blog and application to the Masterlist. Thank you for your reserve!

- Mod Ree

[theofficersacademy]

Maneula Casagranda has arrived!

Welcome to the Officers Academy!

Please remember to follow the Masterlist and all your fellow colleagues. You have been granted the Thunder and Heal spells to start your journey with! We look forward to seeing the growth of your true potential.

May the Goddess light your path.

- Mod Ree

[theofficersacademy]

I'm sorry to everyone who has been threading with her but Constance wants to fly home. In exchange I'd like to reserve Manuela Casagranda.

Constance von Nuvelle has been dropped and is now available!

Manuela Casagranda has been reserved!

You have one week (2/20) to submit your blog and application to the Masterlist. Thank you for your reserve!

- Mod Bren