#SWEETROYALBERRY

[ashenprofessor]

The mountain should fear us

They had been led out of their holding cell but a pair of guards to be taken to a mining pit to be put to work. Their new 'friend' Daniel was with them and they are instructed to bring what was left of their weapons too. Byleth felt more capable knowing they had their trusty gauntlets ready as they venture deeper into the mountain.

Arriving at the designated site, the guards drop them off with knowing grins on their faces. Before them are winding passages and caves to traverse to clear out for the miners. Byleth led the way into the first room, noting immediately the presence of creatures there waiting for them.

"Great. Of course the witchy mountain contains horrors hidden away within." The Professor told their teammates.

Pulling on their Aura Knuckles, Byleth noticed the skeleton, hiding towards the back of the group, bow in hand. A perfect target for the first attack, take out the support. Darting forwards, they drew back their fist ready to strike.

Byleth 10/10HP hits and hits Bonewalker 12/12HP with Aura Knuckles (One-Two Punch). [Rolls: 15, 6; Hit!, Hit!; Damage: 1.5 + 0.5 + 0.5 = -2.5HP, 1.5 + 0.5 + 0.5 = -2.5HP, Bonewalker 7/12HP]

The first hit catches the skeleton in it's boney shoulder, knocking it off-balance before the second hits square in the chest. Undeterred, it raises it's bow to fire back.

Bonewalker 8/12HP hits Byleth 10/10HP with Devil Bow. [Roll: 12; Hit!; Damage: -2.5HP, Byleth 7.5/10HP] (Devil Bow roll: 1. Failure) Bonewalker 7/12HP loses -2.5HP; Bonewalker 4.5/12HP

The arrow soars through the air and pierces Byleth's arm. Pausing, to break off the shaft, Byleth looks up to notice the skeleton almost seem to wince. The bow in it's hand glows red and seems to draw something from the enemy leaving them weaker than before. Some sort of cursed weapon, the Professor wonders.

Wanting to capitalise on the opportunity presented, Byleth moves in again for another attack.

Byleth 7.5/10HP hits and hits Bonewalker 4.5/12HP with Aura Knuckles (One-Two Punch). [Rolls: 9, 7; Hit!, Hit!; Damage: 1.5 + 0.5 + 0.5 = -2.5HP, 1.5 + 0.5 + 0.5 = -2.5HP, Bonewalker 0/12HP]

Byleth knocks it's skull back with a glancing blow before swiftly adding in an upper cut. The skeleton's head pings off the top of the spine before rolling away with a clatter across the floor.

Returning to the group, Byleth rolls their wrists, casually remarking. "That's Bones taken care off. Who wants a shot at them next"

@amitieos, @dracofalchions, @sweetroyalberry, @rafent

[atypicalsenerio]

Pair Up! (White Heron Cup)

Starter for @pirrhyc @sweetroyalberry @luxaltare

It likely meant nothing to the spectators. A surprise, perhaps, that Soren and Pelleas had entered together. They could be seen together as a mere pairing of convenience, bht Soren knew it was more than that. As he took Pelleas's hands, Soren allowed himself a brief moment to squeeze his hands, a secret just for them.

For Soren, it was a public declaration of them being something he didn't have a label for. Almost brother, once enemy, something akin to a friend.

It was enough for Pelleas to be Pelleas.

"Ready?" Whether he was or not, Soren started their dance. He kept himself focused, and frankly his outfit did him favors as far as grace and style went.

Style: 10

Choreography: 5

Technique: 6

Total: 21

They weren't perfect, but they meshed together well, their similairities which they might've once loathed enhancing their style, complimenting rather than insulting.

[asperants]

@sweetroyalberry sent:

It was not fair. Her dress, her hair, her size...heck, even her aura was just too cute! Was Mae meant to compete with this?! No way, not in a million years! She held the tactical advantage through and through. Unless...the Valentian were to make the first move! Then she could be ahead of the curve - oh, and make a good friend as well, maybe.

"Okay, hold up," Mae moves in when she had enough of gawking, a soft smile on her face.

"You've gotta tell me how you got this cute. Is it natural? A secret? Pleeease!"

Mae takes out her hand to offer a handshake, as well as an alliance. "I don't have much to offer now, buut gimme some time and I can level up both of our cutie games. Whaddaya think?"

Hortensia was glad she had made that excuse to sit down with Veyle for coffee because honestly dancing on top of posing perfectly just in case someone was looking in these shoes? Both killers on her feet and spine, and one can only make stretching look cute so many times!

She’s off to the side when approached again, she figures maybe for a flower? The other looks like a student, anyway, though Hortensia doesn’t look super close until she starts talking.

Abrasive in her entrance, Hortensia isn’t sure how to take it until cute enters the conversation. She bites her lip at the sudden request and tries not to smile too hard.

“Hehe, you have a good eye my friend! The pursuit of cuteness must be both inward and outward, as you have already guessed; and hey, you’re already on your way there.”

She gestures to their similar hair ornamentation, seamlessly going in for a handshake once she’s offered it.

“Oho! You’re gutsy, I like that. I think we can learn from each other. Hortensia of Elusia at your service; and you?”

[enarmor]

✢⁎. cerebral pink

“... Ah-ah! Everyone knows that the rich flavors of pegasus cheese far outweigh those of simple sweets. The delicate quality speaks directly from the heart!!”

And thus, he and Mae enter a standstill. Tasked with going out into town together, they were supposed to be a knight-student duo capable of stocking the perfect provisions for dining hall. In theory it’d work, with their clashing interests meeting at some sort of middle-ground. But watching Mae reach for a batch of chocolates sets Sain off. It wouldn’t do to hand those out without a romantic speech! 

“I say we spend the rest of our funds only on such ambrosial delights. Cheese is the food of love, going perfectly with a glass of red wine. For all the darling damsels at the academy, we ought to give them something that would spoil them!” 

Lurching forward, he swats the pinkette’s hand away. The chocolate vendor crosses his arms and bares his teeth in response, while the cheese-seller one stall over beams at Sain’s suggestion. As one might’ve been able to guess, she is a woman. A simple farmhand, with blond hair tied into braids and a pair of burlap overalls. 

Sain cares little for one’s background: be it humble or grandiose, a lady’s tender smile is a lady’s tender smile. 

“We’ll take a dozen of your finest stock,” he continues, all too hasty to fling fourth the rest of their pouch of gold, “and another batting of your beautiful lashes!” 

“Aw shucks!” she replies, quickly loading a basket with a dozen wedges and then some--already charmed by the slight smirk and gentle lean of her dashing hero. “You knights sure know how ta’ treat a businesswoman.”

“Aha, ‘tis all part of the job, my love. Your blush, like the scarlet leaves of autumn’s first dawn, enthrall me so... I may become your most loyal customer yet!”

Snapping back to Mae, he wipes the enamored grin from his face and shoves his basket into hers, speaking with far harsher a tone. “You. Walk this back for me. I shall forge us some business connections in the meantime!” 

//starter for @sweetroyalberry

[making-dough]

Cringe Compilation - Mini Sized [White Heron Cup]

White Heron Cup 2023 starter for @sweetroyalberry​ and @luxaltare​

♠  - It must’ve been the alcohol talking. Why else would she think joining a dance competition was at all a good idea? It’s wasn’t like she was any kind of a dancer, anyway, And especially not since one of the pair she was set against certainly looked a lot more like a dancer.  Oh, what the hey. You only lived once. As the music picked up, Farina just about immediately threw herself into an energetic boogie mixed in with some sharp jerk-y arm swings and hip-sways that were probably a little less than necessary. And the less said about turning around and slapping herself a few times on the butt, the better. Just to finish things off, the mercenary opted to flip upside down and proceed to spin, hands-free, upside down on her head like a top. Which was definitely a bad idea that quickly sent her spinning right off the stage and crashing into some seats on the side.

“I’m okay!”, came a giggly laugh from the side. She may be slightly dizzy from all the spinning but she was more than alright. The 1 she got this time was probably at least a little deserved, she noted to herself as the scores began to be called. Probably due to somewhere in between the butt-slaps or the wild headspin. Whatever! She had fun!

Style: 1 Choreography: 4 Technique: 4

[luxaltare]

[ Indulge ] - in your sudden impulse to do whatever comes to mind, whether it’s hugging a stranger, slapping a friend, or doing push-ups on the dance floor.

The mage stands by the side of the dance floor, preferring to sort out her bearings than immediately take the stage. Being requested to perform right after being transformed into self-conscious mice...is no one else finding this weird?! Apparently not, as Mae could already see couples taking hands and dancing as if everything was normal. She sighs, with a bit more time perhaps she can join in to.

Said time turns out to be shorter than desired, as a warm yet booming voice suddenly rings in her head. Dance, Dance, Dance! it commands. Feeling no more desire to do so but similarly panicked over not doing so, Mae makes her way toward a corner of this "ballroom."

Catching the sight of a pretty, green-haired girl dressed in a similarly stunning pink garment, the mage believes she has found her savior. "Yo! Ya wanna jam?" Mae finds herself calling toward the other. A strange opening, to say the least, but to her it was no stranger than the aching burning urge...along with everything else going on tonight.

Lene's head turns towards a melodic voice, smile already playing on her lips. The girl approaching her is dazzling - adorable, lively and cheerful. Her energy is electric and Lene has no other choice but to accept the invitation.

"Sure, I'd love to!" Lene calls, stepping over with a swing in her hips. The rhythm already has her in it's grip like a vice. Her hand is outstretched, open and ready for the rose-haired stranger to take in her own. "You've got great energy, I love it! I'm Lene, by the way, pleased to meet you."

Their hands meet and a vivid, scarlet flower blossoms against her neck. Lene lifts her hand, allowing the stranger - no, her new friend, to twirl under it. Laughter and mirth fill the air around them, their steps in perfect time with music. Her heart feels light as they dance together. It's erratic, a little less poised than Lene usually prefers but she doesn't mind one bit. Not when her partner smiles, glows with delight as they shimmy and shake.

"You're a natural, y'know! I'm having so much fun!"

[nagaficat]

Tea: Just what it says on the tin! There’s a wide variety of herbs, berries, fruits, and other flavors, brewed in a way that requires the leaves to be scooped out afterwards. Mmm nature.

Finding herself already parched from the event's beginning, Mae decides to take a brief drink break at the bar. Eyeing over the options, with some quick looks at the alcoholic options (should she be disappointed if they thought she was too young to drink, or take it as a compliment?, until deciding on a simple cup of tea. High chance of enjoyment, low risk of dangerous aftereffects.

After accepting her drink and quickly steps away, her gaze lands on a fellow attendee with a simply stunning blue gown. It took her several moments to recognize the woman as one of her profressors. It was as if she stepped right out of a fable.

But this wasn't the time to get flustered, rather it was the perfect moment for a good first impression! "Evening, Professor!" Mae addresses the other as she approaches from the side, "I don't think we ever met before, but I'm Mae!" 

She was unsure why, but the mage feels a slight pressure while in the presence of the instructor...not in a terrible way, however. "Er...care for some tea?" Mae presents the fresh, berry-filled cup of tea similar to a gift. "On the house!"

Deirdre brightens as Mae approaches her. She recognizes her, of course, from her house roster but there seem to be more and more new students and faculty in the Black Eagles that it has become more and more difficult to make proper acquaintance with each of them. But now is surely the perfect opportunity to befriend this particular student!

"No, we have not, have we? I should very much like to remedy that. My name is Deirdre and I am so happy to meet you!"

A cup of tea is handed to her and the sweet but tart aroma fills her nostrils in the most pleasant way. She is glad to accept the cup, the heat of the beverage warming her cold fingers. "I would love some tea but I would love your company more. Would you care to join me as we enjoy these? Tea is a beverage best when shared, would you not agree?"

[dreamingdragonscion]

[ Rat-Tat Tooey ] -a rat in a little hat is cooking up tiny dishes fit for a five-star restaurant. Partake in the refreshments table and try not to think about what it’s like to be a rat with a human consciousness.

Don't think of the chef, don't think of the chef, don't think of- the thought circles around Mae as she approaches the table of dishes. The general presence of a rat wasn't one to send her into full panic, but one now on equal footing was unsettling, to say the least. Perhaps that's why she finds herself with a much larger portion of well-done steak upon leaving the table.

Strange to think that these chunks of meat, fancy as they were, would appear to be mere crumbs hours earlier. It might be the uneasiness of the situation setting in, as Mae's stomach starts to recoil at the idea of that much food. 

"Ummm..." she mutters as she makes her way to grab a seat on the side, when her eyes catch what appears to be a fellow student. "Hey! Think you can help me out here? I uhh...got a bit too much, heh."

The smell of food wafted towards Tiki and the young manakete took in a deep breath, savouring the tantalising smell lingering in the air. Jewel eyes sparkling as she turned around, meeting Mae’s own eyes twinkling like two stars blinking at each other as Tiki giggled and nodded. “Of course! It smells soooooo good!” Tiki’s arms flung around Mae, glomping around the mage with a soft ‘Eheh!’ before she pulled away with a wide smile. 

“Thank you so much for sharing!” Tiki then fidgeted with the drinks on the table and offered a glass of water to Mae to go alongside the food they were sharing. “Ban-Ban always told me that I cannot eat without water. He doesn't want me to choke and you should not choke either." She pouted slightly with her cheeks puffed up.

"Besides! Food tastes better when it's shared amongst friends! So let’s be friends together!” Tiki grabbed Mae’s hands that held the platter, allowing a small warmth to fill and flutter through, a flower blooming on Mae’s vine. 

“Mothe- Miss Deirdre taught me how to do that! It's a sign of our friendship from now on! So let's share this food together as friends forever and have the best party! You looked a little uncomfortable but don’t worry! The more friends you make the more comfortable you will be and I will help too!” Tiki picked up a small fork and picked out some choice meats from Mae’s plate and stuffed her face in front of Mae, grinning ever so innocently at the mage to calm her nerves.

[twistedisciple]

Starter for @cursedbluebird @sweetroyalberry @arcaeda @breidabloom

The stench of sulfur was back again, a fine perfume over a more nauseating one: the syrupy sweet of not just one decomposing body, but an entire room full of rot. A low ceiling of earth and stone pressed down on it as if to keep it locked inside, like a crypt, or a mausoleum, erected to hold the dead in a world of their own. Or to promise that the living that had stepped foot into this forbidden realm would soon join them, barred from any visible escape. If the poisonous air did not corrode the physical body, then the mind would go in its stead and finish the job. The stagnant silence in dim-lit dark whispered futility; death would soon wake to grant them mercy.

The rattling of a dozen heavy, rusted chains heralded its arrival, and from bones and rotting blood rose a creaking giant painted in the palette of twilight and bruises, leaning heavily upon a massive, rusted cleaver for leverage. The stale air stirred with it, perhaps for the first time in centuries, and the stench of death swelled like a wave to crash over the party of breathing trespassers. Hunched beneath the ceiling, its tumorous back mere inches from mold-dusted earth, it turned deep-socketed eyes and a false smile of lipless teeth soundlessly toward them. A challenge, albeit a patient one. To the dead, there was no such thing as time; it was the living that had to contend with its relentless flow.

Death had grown to be something of an old friend, perhaps not for all of those who trod the fallen path, but for Griss, who had seen the faces of his own companions (however tenuously they could be called such) on bent and bloodied bodies, who had marched alongside an entire army of them like an imposter, who knew one day that his lord would call him, no longer satisfied with blood, to make devotion’s ultimate sacrifice, and who flirted with it, teased it, taunted it to take him sooner, it was always there. A ghost. A goal. A god. A lover. The dark did not scare him quite like its absence did. He bared his teeth back at it, eyes aglow with elation like the shimmer of fresh blood in lamplight.

“First a wedding. Now a funeral,” he cracked the silence with a sharp, one-note laugh, echo swallowed up by the wet walls and congealing floor. The absurdity of the joke elicited no reaction and the giant stared back with vacant, cloudy eyes. At least the tuxedo was gone - before Griss had managed to stain it, too - and what he wore now was more akin to his usual attire: cloaked but bare-chested, spiked cilices around wrists and ankles reminders of the inferiority of mortal flesh, and a leather-bound book in his left hand. A quick run through its ancient pages revealed lines of text similar to Nova’s, but there was something sinister about it, too. Something hungry. Only one way to figure out what.

Griss 10/10HP critically hits (auto) Golden Lich 15/15HP** with Aureola [Rolls: 12 + 4 = 16 & 5 + 4 = 9, -8/2HP + 8/2HP = -8HP; Golden Lich 7/15HP**] Griss loses -2HP from recoil [8/10HP]

Two blasts of light exploded in quick succession, one after the other, throwing sharp shadows behind the hundreds of bodies that covered the floor. Striped and smoking with black burns, the giant staggered back. With its skeletal hand, it carved grooves through the multicolored fungus growing over the wall, and opened its cavernous mouth in a mighty roar.

Golden Lich 7/15HP** hits Griss 8/10HP with Echoing Groan [Roll: 14, -3HP - 1res = -2HP; Griss 6/10HP]

Griss lifted his arm to shield his face, but the magic cut him all the same. His wrists bled beneath their bindings, new lacerations opened across his chest and torso, but the red was so bright and beautiful that for a moment it mesmerized him. He laughed as if in a daze. His own blood. Finally. Finally. Finally. Finally. Expurgation for the rite of death.

His allies no longer existed in his world, if he had them at all here at the final frontier. Dropping his arm from in front of wide, unseeing eyes, he fervently dragged another spell from the pages of his book, almost impatient, almost desperate. The cilices dug their spikes deeper into flesh, and the blood ran thicker, spilling to the ground beneath his feet in loud drops.

GALEFORCE: Griss 6/10HP critically hits Golden Lich 7/15HP** with Aureola [Rolls: 20 + 4 = 24 & 16 + 4 = 20, -8/2HP + 8/2HP = -8HP; Golden Lich 0/15HP**] Griss loses -2HP from recoil [4/10HP]

“HAHAHA! This is the moment I’ve been waiting for!” The dream was forgotten. The illusory nature of the realm, the exercise, the monastery, all shadows behind a manic haze. Lord Sombron called him. One final sacrifice. His body would be his.

The giant fell to its knees with earth-rumbling weight, catching itself with the cleaver plunged through a mountain of decay. Then with groaning, popping joints, it thrust both its hands into the ground, releasing a blast of miasmic smoke.

UNBEATEN: Golden Lich recovers HP [15/15HP*] and gains +1 magic and +2 speed Golden Lich 15/15HP* uses Living Death Griss 4/10HP loses -3HP and is inflicted with UNDEAD [Roll: 4, 10/10HP]

The world fell away. Griss felt himself falling with it, through a hole, down a well, deeper and deeper, giggling, laughing, praising his god with incoherent prayers, grateful, terrified, crying — what of Lord Rafal? Lady Nel? — still laughing. Praying. Praying. Praying.

He stopped falling.

The world was a distant square far above him, like the mouth of a well or some deep cavern. All he could do was watch, vaguely aware that what he saw was still through his own eyes. But his body was no longer his.

So this was how it was.

And for perhaps the first time in his life he was afraid of the dark, because the dark here was a yawning void enclosed around him. Because for the first time in his life there was no pain. No salvation. No god. Only himself in infinite nothingness. And there was nothing he could do about it, trapped and helpless, behind the eyes of a puppet.

Sisyphus [Team 12 Gold Round]

[atypicalsenerio]

Scouting over the sidelines, Mae eventually finds herself looking down a young yet stern participant. She finds herself staring extensively at his selected ball outfit, both from awe and bedufflement.

"Mmm, it's nice but...isn't it a bit too extra? And all that black...pretty sure more green would suit ya better," Mae is unable to release some of her inner musings. Was she much to talk, when she didn't even prepare her own garment?

"Ah, um-" immediately realizing her error, Mae briefly trips over words before attempting a recovery. "Not that it doesn't suit you! At least I think-" she interjects her second comment with an extended hand, her last line of defense from embarrassment. "Name's Mae. I'm still new here, so let's get along...dresses and all, okay?"

Soren didn't take offense to her comment. He hadn't been responsible for the outfit anyway.

"It is impractical," he agreed. Soren didn't take her hand at first, only reaching out after an awkward moment passed, unsure if he wanted to engage with someone so pink and spirited. "Your opinion of my garment matters little to me, as you aren't my type." Cool, his own genre of rude, but not angry either.

He shook her hand, their marks buzzing briefly. "Soren."

[theofficersacademy]

                                 Elincia Sephiran Alm Edward

                 F!Byleth Grima Rafal Mae Matthew Zelkov

WEEK 1: misty mountains cold

TAG: #SVRigel2023

"...really think that a random stranger spit out from the ocean is gonna wake up, look at you, and fall in love just like that? Not even Zofians would buy that story."

How did you... no, no you're starting to remember. Just a few hours ago your group was huddled in the deepest parts of your ship, bracing yourselves as the tumultuous waves tossed and rocked your vessel. Heavy rain drummed against the wooden decks above you, a constant drone that would be silenced by a roaring thunder. The last thing you remember is everything going to hell as you were swept out to sea...

"Is it so bad to want a love story like Tati and Zeke's?" Another girl's voice protests, rather young and childish. The scent of crushed herbs and freshly-mixed vulneraries gently wafts through the air, accompanied by the sound of bare feet and thin sandals quietly stepping past you, around you, over you. Someone runs a comb through your hair. "There's no one else here that can be the Alm to my Celica, the Zeke to my Tatiana... if I don't pull this off, I'll be alone for the rest of my life!"

THINGS TO KNOW:

Ten of you are currently crammed together in small room, some kind of makeshift infirmary manned by young priestesses. In the altar, a roaring fire burns in the hearth and staves away the cold. Swords and knives hang from the rafters, pointing directly down at you on the floor. If you ask a Valentian, that seems pretty Rigelian...

You have no idea where the rest of your teammates are. And you definitely have no idea where Matthew came from. As for you, Matthew... well, at least there's no Ephidel in sight. But what is the Valentia crew doing here?

Some of you are getting more attention than others. Sephiran, Byleth, Grima, and Zelkov seem to be secluded in their own corner of the room, watched over carefully by matronly nuns. They seem rather tense, actually. Alm, Rafal, and Mae, however, are getting lots of positive attention! The priestesses, who look as old as 12, giggle over Alm and Rafal, comparing them to 'Zeke' and debating who is more handsome. Male acolytes whisper angrily at each other in rough tones, arguing over who gets to be Mae's nurse for the day. It'd be cute if they were kids and not adults well into their twenties. As for the rest of you, just be grateful you're not dead. There's too many mouths to feed as it is.

Good news! There's talks of a "Yuri" coming in to check up on you guys in a couple of hours. The others must be nearby.

WHAT TO DO:

Roll call for Rigel! Here is everyone that will be part of the Rigel campaign for the duration of the event: @amitieos (Elincia), @thelightofcreation (Sephiran), @dracofalchions (Alm), @justices-blade (Edward), @ashenprofessor (F!Byleth), @fellincantation (Grima), @rafent (Rafal), @sweetroyalberry (Mae), @ostianshadow (Matthew), @elusivia (Zelkov)

There will be an important announcement on August 7th regarding the campaign, so stay tuned for that!

[delicatevalentine]

pink pigtails? how original » hilda & mae

Hilda hated being told what to do. But as it turned out -- and this wasn't something she had expected to discover in her lifetime -- she hated being involuntarily conscripted into doing things even more.

For the most part, she had avoided her elemental overlord's attention throughout the evening. She had been milling around speaking to friends both old and new, dancing, and grazing on food and drink; essentially acting as the perfect party guest. Perhaps that was why the Morfisian had been focusing elsewhere.

But, as she reached out to tap the shoulder of another reveller, her clarity returned. She realised that she had wandered over in a subconscious daze, acting on an urge she hadn't even noticed existed. Her master evidently had some fantasy they wanted to play out here, then. And, then, as she noticed the pink pigtails on the stranger, anger arose within her.

"Not again! Not you-- Oh."

The girl had fully turned around now.

"I thought you were someone else..."

But, still, the copying of her signature look had to be dealt with.

@sweetroyalberry

[nagaficat]

Mae's chipper attitude is quite infectious and Deirdre finds herself eagerly smiling along. With the swell in her house's numbers it has been difficult to properly spend the one on one time with each student that she would like. She is glad to have this chance now.

"Where is home for you, my lady?" she asks as she plunks quite a few sugars into her tea. The berry flavor is already quite sweet but she will not complain for more sweetness! It is a ball--the perfect atmosphere for a little indulgence.

"You seem to be quite familiar with Lady Celica. Did you know her prior to coming here?"

The tea is warm and inviting, the perfect compliment to the company she now has.

@nagaficat | continued from x

Deirdre...the name certainly fits the woman in front of her, especially with the politeness she exerts. It was almost enough to make Mae blush - although she was able to retain it to small rosy cheeks at the bottom of her face. 

Sharing tea...well, it was the obvious follow-up after such a gift. Of course, she couldn't refuse the invitation now, but surely it would be at the very least awkward to order once more after little time has passed. Would the rat bartender be judgmental of abusing the facilities?

Wait...since when did I care for the thoughts of a rat?!

"Sure, sure!" Mae chirps, taking a seat next to the inviter. "Just gimme a bit. Won't take long!" The student calls back the bartender for a second helping of tea, this time throwing in some fruits to feel at least somewhat different. Once her cup arrives, she takes a brief sip to relish the warm and welcoming taste.

"Whew! Feels like I'm right at home. Y'know...if a table could be a 'home.'" Mae begins with some small talk for the small circumstances.

[twistedisciple]

The ice finally shatters, though not from any of his meager strikes (while no stranger to delusion, Griss is free of it where his own physical strength is concerned), and he brings both arms up to shield his face from the shower of glassy fragments. A streak of blue catches his eye. It's the one with the syringe again, pressing hard to overpower and drive the monster back.

"Heh, not bad," he calls to her like this is a game. She's plenty strong, and the end of that needle probably felt pretty good in hands like that if the monster's anguished cries say anything. The dire look on her face contrasts his own wild enthusiasm though, and suddenly everyone is shouting "Marianne!" and "get down!" and each voice rings with genuine panic. Griss stays where he is like the words are a foreign language. The monster gets back to its feet and lowers down in preparation for another round of projectiles, and he watches with excitement like he's in the front row for a play.

"Oh yeah, here it comes."

Apocalypse uses Final Gambit! Roll: 4 - 1 = 3 Griss loses 3HP, 6/10

An explosion of spikes flies into the air again, and at this distance, he's the first to taste them. One, two, three cut through and past him, missing vital organs but releasing a cascade of blood with each puncture. He staggers back a step from the force, the nerves in his left arm dangling down by his side singing like a chorus. Laughter joins them from somewhere beyond his own head, unconscious and uncontrollable the same way ordinary people couldn't help but scream.

"You got one more in you, big guy?" he shouts, the pitch of his voice erratic and uneven, but the monster has already turned away for easier prey. The girl - Marianne, unless that was just a name everyone liked saying for some reason - was a sitting duck. What was the fun in that? Griss chases after it.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!"

Apocalypse uses Black Hole! Roll: 17, Hit Griss loses 3HP, 3/10

A curtain of darkness drops over him like a sledgehammer, bringing him at last to his knees but having no effect on ceaseless hysteria. He'd never been crushed quite like that before, bone-deep and from all sides, as physical in sensation as any real weapon. But it's not enough to stop him. Oh how every muscle screams when he presses himself back up to his feet. Beat out the body's weakness, spill the soul's sin, walk the path of the holy, and rejoice, rejoice,

Griss uses Fading Blow! Roll: 20 & 17, Critical hit Apocalypse loses 2HP, 0/5

"Rejoice!"

He slams his fist through unguarded flesh and the monster lets out a gurgling, choking cry as its throat fills with blood. Its claws rend the air, growing weaker as it struggles to keep itself upright, then topples slowly to one side. Griss falls with it, through dissipating smoke and shadow until his knuckles finds their stop against the fissured earth. There he stares, wide-eyed but unseeing, as blood - his, he thinks - drips down his arm to fill the cracks. The run-off from the altar. A prayer. Amen.

send its ass to the shadow realm — team twelve (bronze round)

[pridelessdaydreamer]

It had been a while since Linhardt last set foot on a boat. Sure, he’d seen the ocean plenty of times, and he wasn’t even unfamiliar with the outdoors (he actually quite liked being outside; it was calming—good for a nap), but sailing… was an uncommon occurrence.

He felt it with the sway of the vessel on the ocean’s tides—at some times calming, at others far more sickening. One of the monastery’s nurses had been going around tending to those who fell to that ill feeling, but Linhardt was generally fine when he passed by—he was fine in general, actually.

Another bout of sickness comes and goes with the waves, and Linhardt’s attention turns to find someplace comfortable to nap—or as comfortable as he could find on the boat—when he hears singing. Not bad singing, mind you, but volume is volume all the same. At first, it is a somewhat familiar tone—the nurse, he realizes just as he finishes his tune. Following is Leanne, a timbre he was unlikely to forget since he first witnessed her singing back in Rusalka. The notebook is passed on.

It goes around from person to person, adding their own verses to the song and expanding its lyrics. At this rate, the song will have no end, or will at least be of considerable length. Next, a loud boy around Caspar’s age, then Professor Elincia, then one more. The last singer—an energetic girl with pink hair (not too unlike Hilda’s)—waves the book around in the air, calling for another author.

“I don’t mind going next.” (It would keep him from getting bored out here at least.) With long strides, he walks over to her, taking the notebook and pen, reviewing the words and their rhythms, and coming up with something of his own.

As he writes the final words, the boat rocks suddenly, breaking his concentration. He raises the pen to keep it from smudging, but a faint line of ink still remains on the pages from the sudden motion, however few the stray marks may be. Thankfully, the legibility remains intact, and as such, he elects to ignore it.

Pausing, he says, “…I don’t have to sing mine, right? The next person can do that?”

Of course not, Lin. You should’ve thought this through.

Oh well. He didn’t fashion himself a bad singer anyway. A cough to clear his throat.

“We seek what’s best, we seek what’s true

Sailing across the ocean blue

And when we have traveled and when we are through

We’ll bask within the Sun’s gold hue.”

“That’s the most you’ll get from me,” he announces once his own singing finishes. He holds out pen and paper.

“For whoever’s next.”

Well-Versed in Sailing [OPEN for all Valentia Team]

[enarmor]

At her suggestion, Sain gives pause. Cakes are hardly a thing he could be caught eating, but a woman at a party is another story. He leans on one leg, tilting his gaze ever so slightly. Watching Mae run off, he has an opportunity to think. To strategize. While he would ordinarily be content throwing his entire wallet at a lady who bats her eyes at him, the aim for today is to fish with a net, not a rod. That means shooting for the largest number of bites possible, using as little funds as they can. In that way, he resolves it is a question of efficiency: something he'd have never attributed to dating before.

"Hmm..."

Walking close behind, the knight peers over the student's shoulder to better understand what it is she's looking at. "I suppose they may look tempting to a lady's eye..." he muses, sucking in a breath, "Especially the ones with the little fruits on them..."

A skip, hop, jump and genius idea later, and the sparks ignite in his emerald eyes. "Aha! I've got it!"

He claps his hands together. That's almost never a good sign.

"You are a student, yes? Then what say you to gathering all your lovely professors for a tea party with their favorite knight? That way I can split our cakes among them, and have my selection from a sea of enchanting beauties..."

His eyelids flutter shut as the idealist begins to picture the scene before him: professors and femme knights, swarming him in droves to try a bite of his cake... And perhaps, a bite of something else. And maybe, among them is the one who truly captures his heart. Would she come running, if he tempted her eye with delectable desires? Probably not; he knows her better. But it's still a pretty thought.

If only.

He opens again and turns to Mae, a little more cognizant of her presence this time around. "Right, and you can have a slice, too... So long as you promise not to get in the way."

At her suggestion, Sain gives pause. Cakes are hardly a thing he could be caught eating, but a woman at a party is another story. He leans on one leg, tilting his gaze ever so slightly. Watching Mae run off, he has an opportunity to think. To strategize. While he would ordinarily be content throwing his entire wallet at a lady who bats her eyes at him, the aim for today is to fish with a net, not a rod. That means shooting for the largest number of bites possible, using as little funds as they can. In that way, he resolves it is a question of efficiency: something he'd have never attributed to dating before.

"Hmm..."

Walking close behind, the knight peers over the student's shoulder to better understand what it is she's looking at. "I suppose they may look tempting to a lady's eye..." he muses, sucking in a breath, "Especially the ones with the little fruits on them..."

A skip, hop, jump and genius idea later, and the sparks ignite in his emerald eyes. "Aha! I've got it!"

He claps his hands together. That's almost never a good sign.

"You are a student, yes? Then what say you to gathering all your lovely professors for a tea party with their favorite knight? That way I can split our cakes among them, and have my selection from a sea of enchanting beauties..."

His eyelids flutter shut as the idealist begins to picture the scene before him: professors and femme knights, swarming him in droves to try a bite of his cake... And perhaps, a bite of something else. And maybe, among them is the one who truly captures his heart. Would she come running, if he tempted her eye with delectable desires? Probably not; he knows her better. But it's still a pretty thought.

If only.

He opens again and turns to Mae, a little more cognizant of her presence this time around. "Right, and you can have a slice, too... So long as you promise not to get in the way."