#ceaselessblade

[verseandrhyme]

the libation bearers

@resurrectionpact ; @thelordoftheair ; @ceaselessblade ; @onlygodremembers

The kingdom of Valla, referred to by those who dare as the invisible kingdom, is a land hidden away at the bottom of the Bottomless Canyon, only to be visited every few decades when the skies above the lands of Hoshido and Nohr change. Following the curse of its creator, the silent dragon, none live there but ghosts, whispers of the past and what once was and no longer is. A land lost to time and myth, just as any belief or faith’s inevitable end.

In the here and now, it is not Vallaites, but unknown shadows that surge upon the monastery with weapons drawn and spells alight, crying out for the blood of the devout and retribution for whatever secrets time has swept away.

It is not the same. But the similarities are enough to leave Mitama on edge.

Mitama rolls a 19. Crit! 3.5 damage. Target is now poisoned.

Mitama’s voice cracks through the battlefield as she charges in, Valaura flying through the air once more to seep into the shadowy archer’s skin. The figure cries out as the spell burns and poison takes hold of its form. 

Should she be concerned about how easily she’s taken to the spell? She’s never dabbled in poisons before...her father-

isn’t here. Nor is the Dawn or the Dusk she knows so well. Only the Goddess and the blessing she bestows upon them in her name, despite the mark her protectors call a stain of sin upon her ankle. Well...if the Goddess deems this the path Mitama might take, so be it.

She’s never been one for fighting fate anyways.

Sword Mercenary attacks for 1 damage.

The sound of the sword slicing through the air grabs Mitama’s attention before the pain as a cut blossoms on her arm. She hisses and recoils, turning to face the new opponent. Before she can retaliate, another figure attacks it. Mitama blinks, recognizing Ike, before she huffs.

“Still charging in without a thought, hmm?” She calls, turning to find her next target. “Try to keep that head on your shoulders, empty as it is!”

[resurrectionpact]

voyage to tomorrow

the Boys @ignatzlandscape @alfvangr​ @ceaselessblade​

There’s nothing to like about this. A massive beast, monster, demon hovering over Garreg Mach... and a young boy with a constant smile, claiming Sainthood, godhood...

Fomortiis roils inside of Lyon, as though indignant of the sudden competition.

[ Indignant? Hardly. They are naught but infants playing with dolls. What are they to me, who has existed since the dawn of man? ]

Dolls... Lyon recalls how that boy had dangled their friends before them. Toying with them, reduced to mere playthings. The thought of it. The memory of it. To be sound in mind but a slave to your own traitorous body, stolen and held hostage by another–

As Lyon enters the pillar of light, he presses one hand firmly against his mouth, the other on his stomach. Bile rises in his throat... it takes plenty of effort to swallow it back down.

-

“Father...”

This stage the boy set for them... it’s disorienting. With ground and sky all the same inky black, Lyon can’t help but wonder, is there an end to this ground? A cliff that will send you hurtling into the darkness? The idea of stepping off to his death, even with Alfonse’s rally–

The tiger prowls towards him. Surrounded by shadow and desperate for power, Lyon calls upon the Banshee spell to keep Gricenchos still. Dark wisps brush and grasp at the beasts’ paws, but to now avail. Its massive paws crush the shadows underfoot, as Gricenchos begins his assault.

Lyon stumbles back quick enough to avoid the first attack, but the second one almost sends him flying. Knocked back and laying flat on the ground, he hisses in pain before struggling to get up. I can’t die here, I can’t!

[princessmacedon]

a normal title having thread

As the days grow colder, students balk at the idea of walking around outside in the cold, especially late at night. Whispers of a shortcut quickly spread through the student body: if you’re coming from the library, you can go through the gallery hall to get back to the dorms. It’s not long until this path is marred by rumors of an armored thief stealing people’s books and essays late at night. There’s a reward if you unmask the criminal, but soon enough you find out that there’s more to this criminal than you thought. Too bad the realization only comes when one of the armored knights on display is magically brought to life, brandishing its sword at you. [Grants +1 Sword]

In her time thus far at Garreg Mach, Maria had become well acquainted with its many friends and countless wonders, but never enough so to forget her studies. Improving herself had ever been at the forefront of her mind, and she made of herself a frequent visitor to the academy’s impressive library. Even rumor of a mysterious thief did little to deter her from her learning-- if anything, it stoked the fires of her determination, the burning desire to help surmounting all else.

Though she was not without caution, and doubly so after the expression Ike had pulled when she told him earlier of the rumor and her unchanged plans to study once again. The thought that even people here would worry for her had drawn a wobbly little smile to her face, which she’d swiftly hidden behind a giggle and reassurance. She would be extra careful, she’d promised, her fingers wiggling with the silent point of the very magic she’d been learning. Thus it came as a surprise at the end of the day when the little princess pulled herself from her books and found her friend near the foretold shortcut.

“Oh! Ike?” Steps light, she tottered up to him, smile shining even in the dim light. “What are you doing here?” 

@ceaselessblade

[atypicalsenerio]

continued from here @ceaselessblade

Soren was grateful he wasn’t dragging Ike away from the party and that the interest was mutual, though he had been confident that Ike could use some air. He stamped Ike’s card with a plain S and turned at Ike’s comment, a small smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth.

“Oh yes, my suave charm and lady-killing looks make me irresistible,” he drawled flatly. “Well, truthfully, that seems to just be Hilda’s signature. I did not return the stamp utilizing the same method.”

The climb up to the top of the tower was long and more stairs than anything else, but the view had promised to be something spectacular. Even if it wasn’t breathtaking or unique, he supposed the excitement of treading somewhere normally forbidden would do it for most students. For them, in their own world, it meant something. For Soren, it was an idle curiosity that seemed to hold nothing more than unremarkable passages, and some privacy at best.

“Have you heard the legends surrounding the Goddess Tower? They say wishes made in here come true. A fairytale, but one likely to draw in other people as well as us.”

If there was anyone else in the tower as they finally entered the top room, circular and empty save for windows all around and a balcony going outside for an even better view, they were far out of earshot. It was just them and the slightly cracked floor and outside railing overgrown with ivy.

Soren turned to face Ike, warm dusk light hitting his silhouette from behind him, curiosity getting the better of him. “If you could have a wish come true, what would it be?” After all they’d been through, he could guess what a man like Ike might say, but he still wanted to hear it.

[yewfallen]

@ceaselessblade​ sent:  "Cease the knees?" The question is soft, muttered to himself. Ike blinks, a dangerous glint entering his eyes. "Go for the sides of them! They bend easier that way! STICK THE SIDES!"

  The cheer from earlier had gotten Febail to start concentrating less on movement and more on attacking and defending, turning sport into something more like the arena. He was trying to strike Kris's knees, but then another voice comes booming out and catching his attention.

“Go for the sides of them! They bend easier that way! STICK THE SIDES!”

“ Wh?! ”  At least he was right about the attacking part of this sport then?! He gives a nod — whether or not it's registered by the cheer team — and goes instead to hit the Archanean in the side.

Mercy on the ice rink was to be a luxury, it would seem.

[geniusmageknight]

😅 (i feel like this is the only option that wouldn't end up in a fight somehow)

After a rather busy day of paperwork and attempting to share his genius with students who could never hope to compare to him, Kempf was fatigued. Fighting the urge to call students “chumps” wasn’t easy, and he had much less control over those he was in charge of compared to his previous post. When thinking of ways to efficiently rest, his eyes peered upon the sauna, described as “the best sauna around”. Of course, there weren’t any other saunas around so who knows how good it actually is.

Upon actually stepping inside and getting comfortable however, Kempf found it to be rather well made. The sitting area was well built and the temperature was... temperate. And the best part was that he showed up late enough that it was incredibly unlikely that anyone would intrude upon his relaxation. Anyone else up this late was probably studying or cheating or doing whatever kids did nowadays. For once he could just close his eyes and let all those worries soak away....

At least, he could until a rather muscular fellow that looked much unlike anyone else he had seen at the academy barged in. What he was lacking in tact he seemed to make up for in the strength department, looking as though he had been in quite a few battles that he likely won. The intruder obviously wasn’t expecting anyone else to be in the sauna this late either, and yet fate clearly saw fit to prove both men wrong.

”Well, you don’t have to just stand there, gawking! Feel free to take a seat, I’ve been told I’m great company! After all, I’m always curious to know why someone who seems so skilled in battle has decided to attend this establishment.”

[arcstral]

🌌

Send  🌌   to  search  for  the  aurora  with  my  muse.

              Their quest to sight the aurora has met with the unfriendly reception of snow, frost, and every perceivable manner of icy cousin. Wintry conditions mingling with long-lapsed time to thread a chill into their every nook and cranny; the result is but a prince and mercenary iced nearly to their bones.. Yet they’ve come too far in scene and resolve. The thought stubbornly holds: perhaps it would serve them better to continue. And, fortunately, it soon does.

                Though surrounded by a barren white, high above their heads reigns a rippling prism of color. Vivid, arrayed, and alive in the sky like a shimmering pool of sequins set against the light. Should he raise his fingers to meet their heights, he imagined it would be some gentle, silken sensation of touch that would descend from the heavens to meet them. A dreamy conjecture, however, and none too mature, so the prince’s fingers fall away before the act can reach its fruition. 

               “  So it exists,  “   observes the hero of Archanea instead to Tellius’ finest warrior, awed and inspired like a princeling amounting to half his years. The discovery of his own surprise pulls his mouth tactfully shut and a bashful smile quirks, albeit wielding less an explanation in his defense and more a storied tale.   “  Ah; in my homeland we wax the saga of a lone man who travelled the world in search of a holy blade. On this journey, he halted at a jagged land of ice so cold and unforgiving, towering so high into the heavens, that he struggled even to breathe.  ” 

               A look tips his face back up to spectate the boreal tapestry above, its bleed of jeweled lights transferring into a colorful cast over refined features.   “  For all his woes, it is said that he did encounter one scene of mercy. A river of color that streamed through the sky. I imagine here I am seeing his very vision.  ”   A swift return of his attention to the other man completes the brief tale, warm of voice and face bright as if no longer affected by the cold.   “  My great granduncle’s, that is—and it is a moment I am glad to share with you.  ” 

[ashenprofessor]

🎣!!!!!

Seeing Ike with his fishing gear again, Byleth was reminded of their previous encounter at a fishing spot. She gave him a wave from where she had set up her own gear, bait already dangling in the water below through the hole she’d neatly carved in the thick ice.

“Hello” She called in way of greeting. “I was curious whether I would run into you out here. You enjoy fishing too correct?” As she said this she felt the tell-tale tug on her line indicating a catch. She moved to reel it in and gestured to Ike to pass her the net.

The medium sized fish flailed helpless in the net as she reset her bait to go again. Glancing over at it she joked to Ike. “Makes a difference from last time. No shock factor for a start.”

“Would you care to set up your rod here and join me for old times sake?”

[blaydiud]

⛸

TOA Fleeting Snow - 2021

   “This should be it!” He gave the skates’ boots a hearty pat before turning to the other- Ike, who had agreed in giving the ice skates a try with him.

Dimitri gently lined the skate’s blade with a gloved finger. He doesn’t remember the last time he went skating, but he does know that it’s a popular winter activity in Faerghus. Children and couples all join in frozen lakes to slide around, dance and fall. They were happy times midst the unforgiving faerghian winter.

The prince slowly tried to get up, feet still in the snow and grass. Then, holding on a nearby branch, he finally stepped into the smooth ice and gave it a tentative slide.

And fell square on his ass with a dull “UGH-!”

Ah.

He had seen others skate, but never tried it himself.

     “Ooough...I hope I did not break anything...in there...ahah...” He tried getting up, but was stuck on all fours shaking and slipping like a newborn baby deer. This was hell-! This was punishment!

[regnumaves]

Screaming Into the Void || Team Catacombs

@alfvangr @ceaselessblade @onlygodremembers

The darkness seems to get even more overwhelming than it was before.

The soft moss covers the top parts of the walls. The floor gives less of an impression of a cave, and seems more like a proper room, the walls and floors are made from carved stone blocks rather than bare rock, and the halls themselves are wider and taller. However, there is no doubt that the place had been damaged heavily by the passing of time; or perhaps some other unfortunate fate. Water stains the walls and gathers in large, deep puddles on the floor.

A soft hum reverberates through the air, almost like the distant echo of the monastery’s choirs singing their hymns, or perhaps the gentle voices of the spirits of Serenes chanting their galdrar in perfect harmony.

And the odd voices - the whispers of departed souls seem to follow them wherever they go. Voices of people old and young, male and female and everything in between and outside.

Who is this?      Lost lambs of the Goddess? What is it that you search for?    This is a place of peace, and so we protect it with our lives.                   TURN BACK NOW. Will you be of use to me?

What answers the questions is a loud, surprised screech of a hawk that shreds the silent darkness like a talon would tear through delicate silk, as Tibarn bonks his head on a wall that seems to appear out of nowhere right in front of his beak.

“Son of a--”

He stops himself before he utters the final word, and merely groans in frustration. Reyson and Leanne aren’t here, but that’s no reason to swear.

But by the legendary Soan’s long, hairy tail, this is so infuriating.

At the very least, this area is just a little more spacious, allowing him to transform and fly more freely; even then, however, he certainly has more space vertically than horizontally. The ceiling is high enough to accommodate another of one those altered golems from earlier - which, now that he thinks about it, may not be a particularly good thing. On the sides, however, the walls are mere centimeters from his outstretched wings, his feathertips brushing the moss covering them if he does not fly in a straight line for even a moment.

Ugh.

He shakes his head to recover from that crash just now - hopefully it’s dark enough that they did not see that very well - as he lowers himself towards the flightless ones.

“Find anything interesting?”

[amitieos]

Ike winces as he sees Elincia take a tumble. She doesn't look too good even when she's gathered her footing, so he jogs over, discarding his remaining pompom along the way. "Hey, are you alright. Need a hand out?" He pauses. How long has she been here for? "The medical tents are that way."

“Thank you, Ike.” Oh she is so grateful someone came to help! Otherwise she might have fallen again and been stuck their pitifully on the ice. “

You’re very kind but you need not worry yourself about me. Nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises, they’ll heal up quickly.” She takes his hand and limps off the rink. A heal staff and a warm fire are exactly what she needs right now.

[radiantpriamos]

🎣

Of all the things Priam had imagined doing with Ike, fishing hadn’t been one of them. Training, sparring, even flat out fighting- well, all of those were close to the same thing, he supposed, had all seemed more likely.

He was never good at just kicking back and relaxing, but with the right company and some fresh air, it was alright.

Priam held an ice chisel in both hands, angled point downward against the frosted surface of the ice. He tapped against the ice and then swung, driving the tip down. This was a great chance to talk to Ike about anything he wanted, although he wasn’t the best with words. “You fish much? I usually hunt.” He swung again, chipping at and digging away some of the ice. “Best I can tell, both of us train more than anything else. Heh, makes this job easier though.” He swung again, cracking through. He took a couple steps back and held the chisel loosely in his grip. “This spot’s good, yeah?”

[disgracedvessel]

hey, can you not shout so much? Your breath stinks

I SHALL NOT BE SILENCED.

[princessmacedon]

ye olde awesomesauce

@ceaselessblade

Wood was much heavier than Maria had thought it would be. 

While she hadn’t expected it to be light by any means-- trees were not to be trifled with, and weapons were weapons for a reason-- it was still somewhat embarrassing to acknowledge the lack of ease with which she hefted up the training axe in her hands. Being a healer, she’d focused on learning healing spells all her life; when the time had come for her to pick a training weapon to keep, her eyes had very nearly sparkled as she thought of her beloved siblings and chose the axe. 

...But this! Maria frowned desperately at the weapon hanging from her hands, letting it drag in the dirt for the time being. This was just sad, wasn’t it? Of course, it just proved to her once again how hard those around her worked to masterfully wield weapons a thousand times heavier and more complex than the simple training axe in her hands. In the same breath, however, some part of her felt the gap between her and her siblings more acutely than ever. 

As if to stamp out the whisper of heartache in her chest, Maria tore her gaze away from the axe and turned her attention to the training grounds. Though a handful of students were hard at work, her eyes settled on one figure in particular. She had not the technical knowledge to describe what she saw (yet!), but she had watched her siblings spar enough in her childhood to know that there was something about the way he moved, something... what was it... super cool?

With eyes sparkling so brightly that the sun itself would squint, Maria watched the stranger train, and found herself cheering internally. How did he do that? It was amazing! And as the stranger drew to a pause, her training axe slid fully into the dirt, quickly abandoned as she clapped her hands together in spite of herself. 

“Wow!” She exclaimed, breathless, then drew a hand to her mouth. You mustn’t be overbearing, Maria! Calmer this time, but eyes still shining: “That was amazing! How--?” How do you do that? No, through practice, of course, silly Maria. “How-- how wonderful! Good work!”

[atypicalsenerio]

"Soren. I am aware I haven't been the best to you. " "I thought I should make up for it by spending time I should have with you. "

"So, would you go out with me?"

"Huh? ...This? I thought it would be weird if I didn't bring anything."

(Given that it's something that purple guy would do, I'm not sure if it was a good idea, but...)

"...Oh yes. I brought cookies, too. Maria made another batch."

With the dance coming up, there had been buzzes of excitement among most of the students, competitive friends who had their eyes on the prize of the Heron Cup and starry-eyed couples who wanted a sweet night to always remember. If Soren had to place himself in either category, it was firmly the former. Since he knew how to dance, in a technical sense, he might as well compete and hone his agility.

He’d assumed he and Ike would go together, if he went with anyone, but it hadn’t even occurred to him to ask. Ike’s approach took him wholly by surprise.

“Ike.” The sight of Ike holding flowers and cookies was a sight to behold. ‘Ike’ and ‘romantic gesture’ went about as naturally together as ‘Kieran’ and ‘quiet’. As Ike spoke, Soren gently interjected. “Ike, please. You have always carried so much on your shoulders. There’s no need to still have this guilt.” Soren could remember so many times he stormed out of a conversation in silence, needing to process and think alone. Ike leaving Tellius wasn’t something he’d felt angry about at all, something that was just a larger version of what Soren had often needed to do, and yet Ike was hung up on it. “We’re together now, right? That’s all that matters.”

The next sentence floored him.

It shouldn’t have, seeing Ike armed with a bouquet of snowdrops and other plants, a blush, and a plate of cookies.

Ike. Flowers. Sweets. Asking him out.

For a moment, Soren completely forgot about the White Heron Cup. He took the flowers in a daze, eyes fixed on Ike. Was this.... wait... “You don’t need gifts or flowers to court me, you know. I-“

The full implications of what he was saying caught up to him.

It started at Soren’s neck and slowly shot up his face, a hot blush that had his skin looking more and more like his Brand by the moment. Whatever words he might’ve said fizzled out as some floodgate of warmth burst open and shot through him. Of course, to Ike, he would always say yes. Ike who he admired and trusted more than anyone, whose side he wanted to spend all the time they had left at. His loyalty had always transcended matters of country or Ike being his commander back in their mercenary days. Ike had always been more to him than he had the words for, and he could barely remember who he’d even been before they met.

Nothing he felt was new, but the culmination of it was. Gone was the ability to cherry-pick his own feelings or not understand what the sudden rush of affection for Ike meant, how even Micaiah, damn her, could sense how much he cherished Ike.

All his life he’d thought people were over exaggerating or joking about what this felt like.

The bundle of flowers slipped through his fingers. Soren scrambled to catch them, saving them before they touched the ground.

“I would be glad to go to the dance with you,” he said, trying to keep his voice even as he straightened himself up. This was Ike, he reminded himself, he should try to not read too far into it. Soren was in no condition to parse out his sudden realization aloud anyway. “We work well together,” he said, still dazed, saying what was true but only a small part of the depths inside him, some surface level observation that was acceptable to say.

Ike then confirmed his suspicions that the flowers were supposedly something of an addition he brought just to ask him to the dance, but it did nothing to tamp down Soren’s blush or slow his heart-rate. The impact was made, the realization discovered. “They’re... nice. Thank you.” Upon closer examination, some of them might’ve been weeds, but Soren didn’t care. He’d never been so glad to shove a cookie in his mouth to keep himself from saying who knew what, face still bright as he chewed it and barely tasted it.

Oh.

[venalier]

TO SHATTER A HART. — ♡

          they say that, centuries ago, this ground had been watered with historic blood. forced to march alongside the rest of the camp ( but are they soldiers or prisoners? or sacrifices? what is their place in this strange war they’d been thrust into without context or the chance to regain their bearings? ), she’s given just enough time to mull over what might await them and take in the daunting unknown that lay as interminable and inevitable as the endless stretch of deceptively picturesque fields. since they’d woken up on this foreign ground, it’s been nothing but struggle after struggle — first the inexplicable illness that had gripped half their lot and vanished with equally little explanation, then to be rounded up and walked into the encampment as ‘ guests ’, though she knew better than that. the skirmish that had suddenly broken out, the lives that had been taken — and restored?

          now this: the solemn line of demoralized yellow marching in grim silence; she’s been in an army before, but it wasn’t anything like this. ( she’d been among comrades, at least friendly faces. ) why are they here to fight an empire none of them have a quarrel with? if, as the shared dreams imply, they had been sent here for a reason, then why isn’t anything coming together at all?

                                maybe her biggest fear in all of this,                        is that they’ll just die here, for a cause none of them agreed to,                                                  and everything— it’ll all be for nothing.

          now this: a disturbance in the ranks near the front; she grabs her naginata on instinct, anticipating an ambush. already? men shout; shouts turn to screams; the formation dismantles and soldiers start to break away; she catches one’s panicked face as he shoves her aside to escape. are they so weak-willed—

          now this: no, not weak-willed, because the sight that greets them isn’t the sea of adrestian and armor-clad red that they’d expected to be waiting for them, but something grotesque: a swelling mass that gurgles and snarls as it rapidly grows. one of their own? she spots the last tatters of gold and black before they are swallowed into a pattern of camouflage hide as would be found on the coat of a hind. it’s familiar dark curls, then, that twist and harden and elongate into ten, twelve, twenty point antlers of branching, macabre black, when she realizes the chilling truth;

                                       now this: ❝ ... claude? ❞

          it takes shape before all of their eyes: a monstrously large stag ( just like the visions! ) that would be only that if not for when it turns its face towards them to reveal a nightmarish chimera of human and cervid and rows of demonic teeth. but it’s the gleeful malice frozen in bloodshot eyes that she thinks she’ll never forget.

          teeth chattering, she wills herself to push past the shock, to pull her weapon from her back and into her hands. don’t shake. shigure and a few others she knows are nearby; they'd faced horror together before. and they’d made it out then. ❝ if the others won’t fight— ❞ palms cinch firm around polished wood, ❝ —then we’ll have to. ❞ more and more of the so-called alliance army scatters around them; is this what that prophetic voice had been leading them to? are they the only ones willing to stand their ground in the end?

          the stag rears — ❝ don’t let it escape! ❞ — and she charges;

caeldori misses! ( 4 )

          blade raised and legs crouched, ready to leap and bring a first shattering blow down on the distortion’s broad shoulders and give her allies an opening. but she never gets off the ground, doesn’t expect magic,

cervid husk attacks! ( 14 )

          for forelegs to gash at the air and a burst of wind to knock her solidly backwards, eyes squeezed shut and tumbling painfully through the grass, only years of training keeping her from losing her weapon in the process. when she slows, a sharp twinge from her torso suggests she’d bruised or torn something, maybe, in that poorly timed attempt. ugh, embarrassing. she’s supposed to be better than this. butt of the pole to the ground, she pushes to her feet, steadies herself. a monster that big would be tough to fight on foot. just her luck, to end up in a clash like this for her life without a pegasus.

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