#SHARPSCION

[estians]

@sharpscion sent:  A new round was to begin, and so he found his place among his Blue Lion allies to fight once again. On the battlefield right before him was a girl atop her Pegasus, eyeing him from that perch. She was to be his opponent, he supposed, readying himself not not quite pulling his sword from it's sheath. In the silence he allowed himself to ponder how the girl was so similar to one he also had known. Fee and her Pegasus Annand, fighting just as hard as the rest of them for liberation. It left a bad taste in his mouth, but he had promised Lord Seliph he would do his best from here on.

"I am Scathach of Isaach, and I will be your opponent this round." With introductions out the way, he drew his sword while allowing her to also prepare herself. It was all the welcome he needed to see her lance readied, and so he began his assault.

Scáthach initiates combat with Sunder Killing Edge. 1d20-2 = 4 ! Scáthach deals -3 damage to Est. Scáthach has HP: 6/6 remaining.

He is quick to move, and with each step forward his blade grows in strength. At least he is at her face, and with a grunt of force, he speedily plows the sword forward. He feels the familiar resistance against his blade, the feeling of landing your mark.

Scáthach has HP: 6/6 remaining.

The battlefield waits for no one. Est should know this well, that one battle's conclusion merely opens the door for a new confrontation. So fate decides her next opponent, Hermes easily gliding through the air at the whims of the storm, leading her to a swordsman dressed in the colors of a Blue Lion.

“And I’m Est,” she returns in greeting, lance raised, “of Macedon. Pleased to meet you!” She guides her pegasus low, ready to begin their bout with a swift strike as she had the last, but her opponent moves faster. His sword swings, red blooming where the blade touches her skin before she can reel back. It draws a low hiss from her lips as Hermes kicks off and away, lifting them back into the skies before she can even prompt him.

Est rests a hand on his head for a beat, smiling, if only to keep from grimacing. “Good boy,” she murmurs, lance twirling in her other hand. “Let’s give it our all, okay?” She nudges him forward gently, just enough for him to tip them forward into a dive, straight as an arrow and quick as a lightning bolt, her lance point a flash of silver against the dreary skies.

Est [2/5HP] counters with the Killer Lance. ROLL 1D20-2: 13-2! Crit! -4HP Poison Strike activates! -0.5HP

Est doesn’t miss the thrill of battle overmuch, doesn’t mourn the fact that she no longer has to worry for her life at every given moment. She’s been a soldier for long enough. But a spar with no life or death stakes, only the wind and rain on her face and a sparkle in her eyes— that’s the sort of thing she misses. The things that used to make her feel just a bit closer to her sisters.

“Let’s have a good fight, then!” she says cheerily, and even with rain turning her hair damp and wind having tousled a few strands here and there, at least the smile still shines in her eyes.

[sorcerese]

   ੈ‧₊ 。━━━━━ ✧⁺∗ ❛⠀ 、 insufferably lethargic !

              “   hmm maybe if this did.... no, or maybe? mhm.. argh, yeah nope this won't do either.   ”    she loudly pops her words before smacking her face into the tome, instantaneously whincing in pain at the impact being a lot more painful than she expected. she lets out a soft whimper before sinking further into her chair. as usual she's complaining. she gently rubs her face as pain pricks her nerves whilst a pained growl strangled behind tightly gritted teeth and curls up into the palms of her hands, it was soooooooooo tedious. the work, the lectures, the exams. everything but the practical exams were just flat out a pain to deal with, don't get things twisted though. delthea likes the academy but sometimes it was just annoying when everyone instantly treats her like a kid ( which isn't entirely true )  during anything combat or sparring related. she knew she was good at what she does. she was decently good with a sword, extremely skilled at magic, good reflexes & agile to boot as well so why did they stress things that aren't as important when her skill makes up for her age. adults are so dumb. honestly, she was convinced that they give her more work  ( also isn't true )  in order to keep her off the field. not that she can blame them, all she does it whine and complain like someone her age...but isn't that ok? she's allowed that much at least.

amber hues lower onto the page, pen that was casted aside on the table was finally picked up idly drawing on the corners of the loose page. a little angry cat was drawn, poorly drawn but still cute.    “   screw it, i just won't do it.    ”   the girl loudly groaned in annoyance as she slaps the book closed and casting aside the fountain pen once again, completely forgetting she was in the library. the mage's eyes fixated on the hardcover and sighs, running her hands down her face, sinking into her seat simultaneously.    “   honestly, just do i look like a potential government official to these people??  why do they give me twice the amount of work than my other classmates do?!? i'm not even sixteen for crying out loud!!  ”    she hisses under her breath the words still louder and more strained than she anticipated. she dips herself even further until her feet collides with another's leg. she jumps back up properly into her chair. she smiles but it's forced. the prodigy definitely wasn't equipped to deal with nobles today.   “   oh sorry i didn't see you there... as you can see... i'm just a liiiittle bit pissed off.  i hope you can forgive me for accidently kicking your leg, i just don't understand all this bullplop about political affairs and whatever.   ”  

ੈ‧₊ 。━━━━━ ✧⁺∗ ❛⠀ 、 starter for @solarsbrace !

[stealstaff]

Flowers For My Future Boyfriend

As the Ethereal Ball is only a little ways away, students and staff are doing their best to prepare via dancing lessons, outfit shopping, and event planning. This year a vendor arrives in town with a wagon full of flowers from all over the world in full bloom. They’re quite the romantic though, so luckily for you, they’re even offering corsage and boutonniere lessons. gift your crush, significant other, sworn enemy, or whoever it may be a lovely floral arrangement that you hand-picked and handmade! They won’t judge if it looks ugly, but.. maybe the person next to you is better at arranging.

Tina is easily swayed by the flower vendor’s assurance that, if she buys these flowers and puts them together into a nice arrangement, the object of her heart’s desire sill surely accept her love.  Whether she actually really believes it or is just thinking wishfully is another matter entirely.  But she is here at this seller’s booth trying to decide what would be the perfect flower for the hottest guy she knows.

It’s a big selection and it’s pretty overwhelming.  It would probably be easier if she, you know, actually knew anything about him other than his name is Seliph and he’s handsome.  He’s pretty blue looking.  Maybe he likes blue?  But then again, she’s pretty green and she likes orange and red.  Shit.

When the hour seems darkest and Tina is beginning to regret every decision she’s ever made, a familiar face just so happens to pass by.  She doesn’t know him but she knows she’s seen him with Seliph a bunch.  He’s also got some very nice, strong looking arms.  

“Oi, you!  Yeah, you!  C’mere!”

@sharpscion

[swiftscion]

@sharpscion sent:

"Larcei," The boy pulls up a seat next to her before plopping down heavily onto the cushioned comfort. He stretched his muscles out for a moment, letting out a hiss of discomfort. "I heard you lost, I'm sorry to hear that. I wish I could have been there to see you fight, but well..." Scáthach paused, gesturing to himself and his own flesh wounds that were carefully wrapped with bandages. "I was busy tasting a very painful strand of poison, myself. Honestly, I'm glad they give us some reprieve for the battle." He turns to look at her, his sister, giving her a very tired smile. "Since it's just me now, I promise to do you proud, Larcei. I'll give them hell."

Larcei clicks her tongue at him. Typical Scathach behavior: belittling her in this way. 

When she pulls herself up from her cot--wounds, burns and all--to face her brother who really only means well, an ugly scowl vandalizes her features. “Wouldn’t have been much to see, anyways,” she begins, “my opponent... Was a filthy cheater!” 

Malice nearly explodes into rage as she visualizes her battle once more. What went so wrong? Maybe if her swing had connected, it’d have been over in a flash... But even then, she doesn’t doubt the other princess’ ability to rise from the dead. Magic is capable of even that, isn’t it? 

“Whatever,” she continues, holding onto the bite of her words but willing herself to calm down some, “I’m over it by now. The wound just stings, I guess.” Both literally and figuratively. It’ll take... A while, for her broken body to heal. Good thing there are salves and juice boxes to spare.

“Tear ‘em to shreds for me, Scathach: give ‘em what they get for messing with the pride of Isaach!” 

[hosannan]

“Scàthach!” She took to her feet immediately, though still going through a round of recovery from the Luna spells that had knocked the wind out of her. She forgot herself for a moment, scanning him up and down for injuries. Though he looked a bit scuffled, it appeared that he had no open wounds that would need tending to. Even so! She pursed her lips in concern, perching her chin between the nook of her thumb and index to observe him. “Are you alright? Did you manage to move on to the next—”

“Oh!” She supposed it was a delightful little distraction between the aggressive mock warfront. “Why… yes. I did lose.” Nanna admitted it plainly, as a prim smile spread across her expression. She doesn’t allow her weaknesses to slow down the path of her friends, yet loses nothing by telling them the truth. Nanna could only hope to be more useful to her house the next time they called upon her. (She tried so hard to be graceful about this, knowing the look on Scàthach's face when he went beyond his call.) “Do not worry, haha! While I had hoped to do more, I am still satisfied having known I tried my best.” Before she partook in his offering, Nanna waved another helper over, whispering into their ear. They came back with another cup, of the same apple variety. Pressing it into his hand, Nanna met his gaze with dancing lights in hers.

“Here! Cheers!” The TINK! of their glasses sounded so sweet to her ears. “To life’s little dandelions during wartime.”

@sharpscion

[ashenprofessor]

☄️ COMET - what do people assume about them? are they right?

People often assume Byleth lacks emotions due to their lack of expression. To say they have a good pokerface is an understatement. It works well on the battlefield as it makes it harder for their enemies to read their next move and tell how the fight is going. They are a blank slate to the point of unnerving their foes.

However this is not true. Byleth does have emotions, they are just unsure how to express it. The longer they spend at the Academy, the better they are getting at this through watching how fellow student and staff interact. It has certainly surprised some people they've known for a while to see the glimpse of a smile on their face or mischief in their eyes!

[luminousrider]

Mind the Thorns

As the Ethereal Ball is only a little ways away, students and staff are doing their best to prepare via dancing lessons, outfit shopping, and event planning. This year a vendor arrives in town with a wagon full of flowers from all over the world in full bloom. They're quite the romantic though, so luckily for you, they're even offering corsage and boutonniere lessons. gift your crush, significant other, sworn enemy, or whoever it may be a lovely floral arrangement that you hand-picked and handmade! They won't judge if it looks ugly, but.. maybe the person next to you is better at arranging.

Altena stands gaping at the sheer amount of flowers in the vendor's wagon. They have blooms in every color, size, and shape imaginable. Thracia's princess has never seen so many in one place. She loves her homeland with all of her heart but flowers growing in its infertile soil are rare.

They're breathtakingly beautiful.

The vendor notices her staring and offers to let her make use of any of their supplies should she want to make an arrangement. It's a kind offer to be sure but she is quite intimidated by the prospect. What if she messes up and wastes the flowers? Her hands aren't used to such delicate tasks and she knows flowers to be a rare resource.

But she lets herself be led to a nearby table with even more flowers and plenty of crafting supplies. To her surprise, Scathach is there as well. She offers a small smile as she sits across from him.

"Oh, I didn't realize you liked flowers, Scathach." Ug what a weird thing to say. "I mean, um, are you making something too?"

@sharpscion

[swiftscion]

“Gahh, you know that ain’t fair!” Larcei grunts as she slings Scathach’s body at himself, swatting away the arms of his younger sister before palming the top of his head. It is her hair she’s messing up, but it’ll be Scathach that feels it. “No matter what I eat or how many battles I fight, I just don’t grow like you do! ‘Not my fault you stole all father’s good traits!” 

And she, in turn, was left with Ayra’s. Their body plans are so similar–save for the height, which is anyone’s guess where it came from–that all of mother’s weaknesses are also hers. Larcei isn’t feeble by any metric, but there are physiques capable of lifting more and doing it longer, of fending off attacks and breaking lance shafts betwixt a pair of fingers. In exchange, she had always been a leg faster than her brother, and her smaller stature meant that when she threw her weight around, she’d also throw her enemy into a loop. It’s why the body she inhabits now is covered in scars, while she only ever suffered the nicks and snippets of the blades she whizzed by. 

“Hmph,” she then breathes, hearing Sca’s plea for mercy. Her smile fades at the implication of putting him through that much. Ragging on him is fun, sure, but she loves him enough to pick up the pieces of his reputation. And months? Maybe it’s best not to break it to begin with. "Fine..."

The ceasefire doesn’t last long. His next comment does the job of bringing her fire back, placing a torch of liveliness even onto a foreign stand, “Oh yeah?” A snort, and arms cross themselves over that broad chest. A brow quirks, which on Larcei’s body would certainly look like an invitation to a challenge. She has no idea how it would appear from his point of view. “Then if you mean it, let’s see it. We’ll spar, right here, right now–in eachother’s bodies.” 

Given that she didn’t happen to have a training sword on her–and she doubts her brother would have two–the reversed Comet enters a wrestler’s stance. The bodies will be their weapons today: bones are guards and joints their hilts, flesh is the bite of their blades, and unfamiliar skin the sheathes that tie them all together. “If I win, then it’s my battle prowess that’s the best, once and for all! And if I lose… Well… You just got a turn in the better body!!”

her words, albeit from his mouth, only serve to frustrate him more than he already was. scáthach had known his sister would not take this seriously, but he had pleaded with her anyway. instead, it looked like she was concocting all the different ways a sister could embarrass her brother in a situation like this. if only he himself was as conniving as she was, he would also know way to strike some panic into her. alas, larcei was the kind of person to put all the cards on the table, she lived without shame... unlike him.

"would you-" a loud burst from the now smaller sibling before he calmed, "put my arm down, you weirdo!" watching his sisters mannerisms come from his own body irked him enough, but to have others see it... well surely they'd be even more put off. as to protest her vain actions more, he reached up to pull at his own arms, attempting to force them down. after a prolonged struggle all on his own, he relented with a huff of annoyance. "you are enjoying this far too much, sis... why don't you get 'yer own muscles and show off then, huh?"

it's when she begins again with mention of seliph that his retaliations begin to seize in his throat. though he figured she would test him, his imagination had never led him to this outcome. she backed away with a devious smile, one that told him he she smack her upside the head for even thinking what she was thinking, but he couldn't. to dissuade his sister from her antics, he would have to pretend not to care. even though the idea of larcei letting spill things to seliph in his voice petrified him more than it should, he would have to play the long game. besides... they had spent enough time together, surely lord seliph would understand something was not right.

"play around if you have to, larcei, but please don't put my face on everyone's radar... i'll have to hang low for months to reset all the damage you'll do." that would surely do it, a free admission for her to goof off. she had likely only mentioned seliph in the first place to get him to relent like this. he rolled his eyes at the sibling mind games they both played... so confusing. "just know, my body or not, i'll wack you good if you don't act right. i mean it, larcei!"

[ulirblood]

edain returns 2: electric boogaloo

edain will be returning with all of her memories in tact. narratively she has not left the monastery, but simply taken a break from teaching for a moon or two. below are previous threads edain had before i dropped her (this does not include new threads picked up after this post). if you would rather not continue or drop a thread please tell me whether through discord or through tumblrs dm system, so i can cross it off the list. this post is for me to simply get my bearings. thanks guys!

threads below the read more! listed in alphabetical order by thread title.

IF THERE ARE ANY THREADS I MISSED that you would like to continue, please tell me and i'll add them to my to-do list!

depressed guy found in medbay - scathach (@sharpscion) THEIR TURN

dominoes - patty (@lockpicnic) MY TURN

four letter word - maria (@princessmacedon) MY TURN

honey the edward shrunk - edward (@justices-blade) MY TURN

schools of thought - zelkov (@elusivia) MY TURN

stained glass - sigurd (@bxldrsdraumar) THEIR TURN

stars aglow - larcei (@swiftscion) THEIR TURN

untitled - pelleas (@/pirrhyc) THEIR TURN

valentian saint warrior - pelleas ( @pirrhyc ) THEIR TURN (THREAD FINISHED)

yankee doodle dandy - altena (@luminousrider) MY TURN

[encursed]

tower reversed

au starter for @sharpscion

           THERE'S SOMETHING IN THE WAY VERONICA walks that reads "urgent." It would be easy for someone like Scathach to tell; the way her heels snap against the halls of Castle Embla like whips, the way that her strides extend to the farthest reaches of her legs. She waits for no one. Her pace is sharp, impatient. Like a knife waiting to plunge into flesh.

          "...Scathach."

And so does the blade meet its target. Veronica halts just in front of him, arms crossed as she pulls her chin up to meet his gaze. She doesn't mean for her voice to sound as piercing as it does, but her words come out whetted regardless. It's a bad habit— the more she works, the more sullen her mood.

          And given the state of the Emblian Empire? It seems work is all she's been doing, lately.

          "Your contract has been dissolved. It has been for quite some time, as I'm sure you can tell." she speaks matter-of-factly, each syllable as distinct as her footsteps, "You are free to leave. I hear your family has been summoned to Askr. I can arrange for you to go there, should you so wish."

          A long silence punctuates her words. She is hesitant to say more; a far cry from her impatience earlier. Very suddenly, she begins to look small. Her shoulders slump forward. Her fingers lace together and, for a moment, she is the lonely girl she was a few years ago. She looks up at Scathach, expectant. As though she were waiting for him to interrupt her with a reply. Or perhaps wanting is the more accurate term. The words that will come next are not easy ones to speak. She hopes he can delay them.

          He does not. So, she speaks them. Quietly this time.

          "Don’t you understand? You’re free. Free to go, and free from me. I won’t blame you for it. You don’t even have to look back. I’ll allow it. Yet…” she sucks in a breath, “yet despite all that, you're still here. With me. Why?"

[theofficersacademy]

Activity Check: December

We’ve conducted the activity check for December!

If your muse is both:

Not listed below

Has made the activity requirement for this month (3 IC posts, regardless of any exemption status)

you may claim your activity skill point! Simply add it to your Total Skill Points on your stats and allocate it wherever you please. If you have reached a new letter rank and would like to claim a new ability, please message the Masterlist.

Warned:

Ishtar @deamare

Nanna @hosannan

Quan @lordleonster

Scáthach @sharpscion

Farina @making-dough

Priscilla @amiterum

Ephraim @solarsbrace

Grima @fellincantation

Virion @odeyseis

Booted:

Dorothea Arnault @larosacantaire

Ranulf @felinebr

Triandra @pakiramay

- the House Leaders

[nagargent]

in the name of the moon, i’ll confess to you!

The wind whips her hair around her face as Julia stands atop the Goddess Tower. Adrenaline courses through her veins as she waits patiently for her date to meet her. It’s unlike her to break the rules like this but she can think of nowhere more romantic than before the goddess and under the light of the full moon. She prays quietly to whoever will listen that this will finally help Scathach understand her feelings.

Speak of the devil...

Julia startles slightly, clutching her chest even though she’d been waiting for him. A light laugh carries across the wind as she relaxes and rushes over to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders in a warm embrace. He smells like sandalwood and cinnamon. Warm, rich and comforting, the heady scent leaves her dizzy and giddy for more. She never, ever wants to let him go.

Alas, she takes a step back and drinks in his handsome mien. Revels in the way his soft half smile releases butterflies in her stomach. She could stay like this for an entire lifetime and never get bored. Julia came here with a goal in mind though, one she is determined to see through.

“It’s beautiful up here, is it not? Even the floor we stand upon feels like holy ground,” her voice quivers slightly as she speaks. Yet she pushes forward, resolve unshaken. “Have you heard the rumour about this place, my dear?”

@sharpscion

[hosannan]

activity check {

no activity point for january 1st activity check (warned)

cleaning up my archives below

Threads: (15) Alphabetized

Alfred — twerking to ye old beats — Owed

Altena — Doc Mcstuffins — Owed

Ares (lionscion) — A Tiny Problem — Waiting On

Ares (lionscion) — Yours Truly — Waiting On

Beowolf (saywhaet) - Hearts like Fire - Owed

Caeldori (venalier) — BIRD-LIKE WINGS. — Owed

Denning (beholdenning) — A Study in Gold — Waiting On

Ethlyn (ladyleonster) — Insert Lame Joke about Shitty Mother in Laws — Owed

Ivy (iyusiia)— No Courage to War — Waiting On

Julius (disgracedvessel) — Freezeburn — Owed

Katarina (ephemeralove) — Sham of a Prince — Waiting On

Lachesis — Pocket Full of Posies — Owed

Leif — Reign of Reins — Owed

Leif (diadic) — Repose of a Heartbeat — Owed

Lilina — Jinsoul is That You? — Owed

Micaiah (frauleindermorgen) — Solander — Waiting On

Pandreo (revelale) — A MASK UNTOWARD. — Owed

Raven (peerlessscowl) — Psalms of the Living — Owed

Sara (shadoll) — Never Say Goodbye — Owed

Sara (shadoll) — Stay Out of Woman’s Business — Waiting On

Scathach (sharpscion) — NANNA VC: LEIF IT TO ME — Waiting On

[braveryinblue]

to us, treasure bestow~

The marquess wasn’t sure what had possessed him to ask the pegasus knight to partner up. Heavens knew he’d skipped out on his fair share of etiquette lessons back home - or he’d damn well tried, but insofar as matters of dance etiquette went... dance had been the one thing Uther would forcibly drag Hector back to class for, by the ear, time and again.

At least that way you can pretend at being a noble for some short period of time if ever you should have to, dear brother of mine, he’d chided with a chuckle.

Even still, out on the dancefloor, Hector felt woefully unprepared. What had he been thinking? It had been on a whim, after Farina had ambushed him at the photo-artifex. He’d surprised himself when asking - and had been doubly so upon hearing the knight - or prof, now, he supposed - had accepted. The knots in his stomach had started that very moment.

But whatever nerves or agitation Hector felt standing up on stage, Farina’s hand in his as they awaited the judges’ signal to begin... whatever trepidations he felt, the fire of competition incinerated from the moment they started until the very end.

It had all been a blur. Brows furrowed, Hector could but stare as the judges announced their scores. Had there been a mistake somewhere...?

[ Style - 9, Choreography - 10, and Technique - 7 ] [ Total score: 26 ]

He glanced to his partner, perplexed, and hissed in question: “Do they have the wrong duo or what?” A pause, nose crinkling. “We did that?”

Vaguely, he could recall a whirlwind phantom of their dance. She’d jumped at some point, and he’d caught her, right? A high tempo piece, risk weighed against reward - certainly, lessons had never taught him that, and yet...

Well. He could always blame Farina. From the first, he’d always found she had a way of sweeping people into her pace. Not like he was complaining though.

Next @making-dough ! VS @nagargent & @sharpscion

[princessmacedon]

"Hey, Scáthach?"

...He's already fallen asleep, it seems, and before she'd ever gotten the chance to answer his promises or the regrets that followed. A soft puff of laughter slips past her lips, and Maria indulges the whining of her wounded leg, gingerly maneuvering until she's sat on the green grass of Gronder Field.

Although it's been quite a while by now, she still remembers the promise she made to Miss Ayra to do her best to look out for her children -- channels that memory into her fingertips, her palm hovering over the most inhibiting of his wounds as she mends just enough to make the subsequent trek to the medical tent more bearable, but not so much that she might invite a scolding for it later.

Were it that she could let him sleep for longer, but she can at least let him rest while she shuffles over to Pelleas' side and peers at him. How weary he must be, she thinks as she spins faith around her fingertips once more. His heart and body both. Had she done better by him, he might have stayed standing; as it stands now, she soothes the cuts of the sword's blade and frowns lightly at the arrows. A job better left for the med tent, but it should hurt less when he wakes up.

And he should soon, unfortunately. Scáthach as well -- both of them would be better served by resting in a proper (and by proper she means makeshift) bed. The little cleric leans forward slightly, her shadow casting over Pelleas' face, hand poised to gently poke his shoulder, but not yet!

"Pelleas?" Subconsciously, she lets a smile rise to greet the mage, glancing over her shoulder once (was Scáthach also waking up already?) before looking back to him. "We have to get up."

@sharpscion & @pirrhyc

three lions walk out of a field

[avemaera]

"Good evening, Lord Arvis." The swordsman hovered over the man sitting peacefully at the sidelines of the ball. Being the one to escort Julia to this gathering made him feel at least somewhat responsible for getting along with her kin. Even if the idea of playing nice with this man made his frown deepen and brow furrow, he would for her. "I do appreciate your blessing in allowing me to escort your daughter tonight. As thanks, you may have my stamp." Please look away just for a moment, Mother... Surely she would be rolling in whatever shallow grave he put her in watching her own blood suck up like this.

A flute of chilled champagne pressed against his eye, Arvis tried to vanish into the background of the event while the vestiges of his migraine subsided. Lord Reyson had tended to his wounds, but neither he nor the diluted spirits could do much for his pride. Its only use now was easing the lingering pain in his skull.

He is addressed, and Arvis can only lazily give a once over to the man speaking. Scathach; a student who had asked permission to be Julia's escort. The boy had enough sense in his head to offer his due respects, but Arvis couldn't care less about empty flattery now (any other day yes, but not now.)

Scathach surpassed him in height, but Arvis towered over him in presence; even as he stood up in pain.

Arvis downed the entire flute before pressing it and his engagement card into Scathach's hands. Plucking the boy's own card from his breast pocket and imprinting the initials:

'AIV'

"Never forget what my daughter means to me, young man."