#floreix

[firelles]

[ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐭𝐡 ] : sender drapes a coat / cape / etc. around receiver's shoulders.

Even the freshest of air held an immovable force. The winds' strong gusts only further exemplified with each passing step; the trees and leaves followed. A shiver ran up the princess's back— Much as she tried to merely ignore it, there was no doubt Alfred had noticed the way she shook. Rather, it appeared he already had a plan in mind.

"Alfred..? You are offering me your coat? If you give this to me, you will no longer have one. I do not think that is the wisest," she protested. Even so, she knew her brother well— No matter how much she may have tried to refute or convince otherwise, it seemed his mind was set. Inevitably, she took the carefully crafted apparel into her own hands and draped it over her shoulders. She held it tightly with her fingertips, ensuring it remained in place.

Céline moved her gaze from Alfred and back towards the vast field in front of them as her feet remained firmly in place. She was Céline. She was Firene's princess; she was a sister with a strong will. "I do feel warmer now, but what of yourself?" She paused amidst her thoughts, taking a step forward as the wind pushed forward yet another strong breeze. "The walk back towards the monastery dorms isn't terribly far from here. Let us return before the weather increases in intensity."

[starrook]

continued from here @floreix

"S-Sorry... I hope I didn't offend you Prince Alfred. I promised myself that I'd pace myself with the drinking, and I just had one..."

Though maybe Alcryst should shut up before he makes things worse. Prince Alfred wants to toast—all Alcryst is doing at this point is delaying what he came here for. "I-I'll be back quickly! So that I don't waste any more of your time...!"

The sparkling water table looks rather dire: syrup stains the white tablecloth and drips onto the floor, and the students seem to crowd around the same bottles. Alcryst finds himself gravitating towards the end of the table, where the less-appreciated flavors reside. His eyes catch upon "blood orange." A strange name... but at the same time, kind of cool right? Feeling sponatenous, Alcryst adds a few pumps to his water and returns to Alfred.

"...It's a cool color, isn't it?" Alcryst asks, looking over at the prince in hopes that he agrees. With the syrup, his water has become a bright cherry red. "So, a toast... ah, there's so many things I want to toast to. Friendship, Firene-Brodia relations..."

[rafent]

cannoli - how does your muse express love? how do they act when in love that differs from how they act around others normally?

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 ( also asked by @twistedisciple )

Rafal's love language relies primarily on materialistic and verbal ways of expressing love. The former is straightforward, easy, and tangible. It requires little explanation, is less compromising compared to outright confessions, and doesn't necessitate putting his heart as openly on display. He gives handmade confections to the Divine One once during their support chain and attempts to do so again in a wake-up event.

Nil was also fond of gift-giving, specifically flowers. Rafal for all his former masquerading did retain parts of Nil that he not only emulated but went on to preserve in his own behavior - unconsciously or otherwise. In terms of verbosity on the other hand, words come to him with a good deal more difficulty. This is also a perfect segue into how he behaves while in love.

The hardship in expressing himself and easy agitation with emotions will perpetually be there, underlying. Rafal's sense of embarrassment at vulnerability is a response to his survival instincts to remain guarded. After centuries of keeping his true feelings and even his identity under lock some part of him will always keep his cards close. But it doesn't mean that he isn't susceptible to cracks; private or veiled moments of appreciation for the one he loves when he thinks they aren't listening.

Rafal: I do not know if I could stand to wait another thousand years. Not for you. I believe I would lose my mind. To mourn for you like that...it would break me.

Alear: (awakens)

Rafal: Ah... No, it was nothing important. I am glad to see that you are awake. Listen...when the end comes...let me be the first of us to sleep eternally.

This eloquence within itself is already a massive difference. The Rafal who is holding himself back or is on platonic terms and the Rafal who is in love and actively being encouraged for his advances are two different beasts. I like to envision a set of floodgates straight up bursting open when it comes to the enamored aspect of this identity. He's bold, forward, possessive, and jealous, but also plaintive, sensitive, and deeply loving once given the green light.

Get past his guilt, move past his walls, and the door opens into someone who essentially sees the object of his love as his priceless treasure. His treasure in every single way who he doesn't want to share with anyone else. In foresight, Rafal is pretty emblematic of how a hoarding dragon might love; selfish, attentive, absorbed, and unwilling to relinquish the jewels in his hoard.

[ Ally notebook — Every Day With Rafal (JPN) ] "He may be easily embarrassed and won't tell you his honest feelings, but he cherishes you deeply. When you're alone with someone, he gets so jealous that he glares at you from afar. He keeps his promise ring in a container made of his own scales and protects it so that no one else can see it let alone touch it."

Oh yeah, and did I mention Rafal is also a cheeky flirt.

Ironically, Rafal is more 'dangerous' when he knows he has the favor to act. He's emboldened, he's passionate, he suggests to spend time together without batting an eye, and doesn't skirt around the prospect of physical relations. Intimacy in this regard is another method he uses to quantify and prove the depth of his regard, which he outright says. This dialogue is exclusive to JPN Rafal's Pact Ring wake-up event.

Rafal: Today I have time...how much I yearn for you...I'll make you understand it.

Whoever he is in love with, he effectively keeps them on their toes and sometimes even walking on a bed of nails which warrants the saying: never a boring day.

[stalwaria]

At first he's unsure if his eyes are failing him, then surprise painted itself in his visage and lastly joy stirred his movements and heart as he ran towards his retainer. How lucky had she had arrived in time for the ball!

"Etie!" Alfred chirped as he unclasped from his brooch a white feather and offered it to her without doubt or need for deeper bonds to be forged between them. Lips curved up and eyes crinckled in the softest of expressions and then, the prince continued speaking. "I didn't expect to you here at all! I'm so happy to see you and Céline will be too—if you haven't seen her yet. Is everything well back at home? Have you been well?"

But despite the gesture of exchanging born from the ball, he fell back to part of their bond's nature. "Now that you're here, we have to start training together again!" A laugh. "I missed your company and our jogs a lot."

It should have been surprising to have her prince approach her not even a moment after she steps into the ballroom—with this crowd, she didn't expect their reunion to happen so fast!—but it isn't.

Having him in her life, and seeing him smile and stroll about the place, felt like the most natural thing in the world.

"Prince Alfred! Didn't expect to see you so soon." He's already plucking a feather off his brooch, and Etie removes her crystal in turn. Straight and to the point. She appreciated that.

"Did you like my surprise? I wanted to come see this place for myself, and see if I could become even stronger, for you and Céline... and Firene, of course." She smiles, "Queen Eve's been handling the reconstruction efforts wonderfully. Florra Port looks almost like it did before..." Smile falters. "Well, you know."

"But training?" She perks right up again. "That sounds like my kind of party. I can slip these heels off and we can do a few laps around the garden! How about 10? Maybe 20? 30's not too much, is it?"

[nelithic]

"Wow... Lady Nel, you look amazing!" The sentence slipped out of his lips before an actual thought formed on his mind. He did not regret speaking it as it was a fact, how the suit embraced her figure and the colors of the design were a perfect match, no doubt on that.

Besides being literally otherwordly to his Elyos, Lady Nel and her brother were of beauty unmatched. Good looks ran on their blood and Alfred wasn't going to complain about that.

He shook his head swaying away those thoughts, this wasn't the reason he approached her! With both hands to his hips, Alfred smiled and let the compliment be but a part of his thoughts. "Ahem! I was wondering if you'd like to chat a little bit or maybe dance with me?"

LEVITY AND JOY GREET HER FROM BEHIND, attached soon to a familiar face she seems to still have all too recently beheld still suffering. this was a different prince alfred who had not yet supped of elyos' rot ; yet, to see him smiling, the lines of his face unbent by war and the expectation that had made him cruel, gives her satisfaction indeed. this world's alear truly came from a blessed place. may their future never follow her own. "thank you for the compliment ; however, i cannot fully accept it. this ensemble was selected for me by another."

as she is eyeing over the prince's own simple yet elegant attire, a blend of the academy's uniform and firene's vibrant hue, he continues further — extending an invitation she had not thought to expect.

a dance. . . ? it was not that she stood opposed, but it was a bold offer from elyos' representative royalty. in any past hall, this brief exchange alone would have drawn suspicious eyes, and days later cast aspersions on firene's intentions. no doubt alfred would have been warned gravely by his advisors, or she plotted against by his retainers in the night.

. . . and yet, this world's alear came from a blessed place.

perhaps it is her caution that is old-fashioned ; she thinks of diamant, who in spite of brodia's well-founded hatred, was possessed of enough trust to show her alliance and friendship without question. is it quite so simple, here? her knowledge of nature and necessity says no — but then, no longer are there fell dragons to wreak havoc and divine war, to re-sow the apple of discord. none but herself, and an innocent veyle, and the reformed rafal. nel turns herself fully, and presents the firenese crown prince her hand. "i will agree to a dance. you will need to excuse me, if i am unfamiliar with the steps."

history would forget and bury their ills. the memories of humans were infinitesimally brief ; this very forgetfulness may yet be where hope made its nest.

[zappygolucky]

Like he had just seen a shooting star Alfred's eyes grew wide. He had seen many friends around here but he hadn't tought of Yunaka appearing here like the star of a play appearing in it's right time. But considering the interest for weapons and many facts she had shared with him this was a fitting place for her considering that interest of hers.

But enough looking at a friend fondly, it was time to greet her just like he would with anyone else. "Hey there Yunaka!" The prince beamed as his waving hand settled down on his hip, a brow raised in curiosity for her appearance here but she did not want to share about herself back then, he would respect it now too—even if asking 'what brought you here?' wasn't extremely personal in his eyes. "Hope you been doing well. I have to say i missed having you around, you know can't help but miss my friends sometimes!"

“Hi Alfred! You’re looking positively zappy! Glad to be back among old pals!” Barely pausing while she gave him a look once-over, she hopped in place and offered a wink alongside a devilish smile. “What a relief seeing you here, huh? I’m sure you’ve been keeping busy.” Matter-of-fact about it, she reached over and dusted off his shoulder. “Keep it up!”

[arcstral]

The Emblem of Beginnings, the companion that laid besides the Divine One for a thousand years and a friend Alfred got lucky to make. That was the person he remembered, for the blue haired man standing in front of him was the Marth he knew, instead a man who shared experiences but ultimately lead a different path.

Still, although they were different people he held a bittersweet feeling in his chest, but a warmth to know that a guiding light never faded even if they wouldn't get to be together once they both returned to their homelands. A saddening thought, but he knew those who counted on Marth would be met with true kindness.

Alfred bowed his head to the hero-king. "I'm glad to meet you Sir... Marth, i'm Prince Alfred of Firene." It felt so wrong to say that despite truly being strangers in the end. "I heard quite a lot of you and i wanted to meet you myself!" Well he heard of the Emblems time and time again, but of Marth himself? All he knew was from experience alone, though it would be weird to approach him as if they were the bestest of friends, wouldn't it?

The prince laughed loud and bright, ah... this somehow hurt more than he would expected. Still he reached for his hand for a shake, to finally experience what it would be like to touch the Emblem he called a friend. "I hope the time we spend together leads to our friendship to bloom." A wish that remained true for every encounter he held with people, that was a beauty of life.

But he wished to say something more to him as nonsensical as it was. Knowing that the Divine Dragon, that Alear his dear friend was here too, Alfred leaned slightly closer to Marth. "And thank you," Emblem Marth. "For all you have done for the Divine One, if you could as selfish as my wish is, please... keep on being the man Alear can call a friend." Even if its among the stars, please give the Divine Dragon just a little more of that warmth.

A friendly stranger bowing his head in deference with an unspeakable sadness behind his eyes, all told, is a strange sight albeit not new. This would be the first they meet, but it is not the first time he's seen that expression; with it, the affectation of some unspeakable event, cutting loose a preciously regarded friend from those who once relied on his strength in a manner akin to separation or death, or worse. Whatever memories they possessed seeming too painful for words, presumed responsible for their subtle airs of grief that surrounded them- individuals like Alear, Zelkov, and now Alfred.

He, in the end, bears only a single certainty. Even now Marth could not say that he fully understood. But Prince Alfred of Firene comes bearing kind regards regardless of the mysteries that he brought with him; if there is any first impression at all, it is only that an honorable young man worthy of attention, worthy of respect, has shown himself to a fellow ruler. "A pleasure, Prince Alfred. It is an honor to be known by members of foreign royalty, though I am regretful to be unable to express prior knowledge of you in the same way."

Indeed, for had he known such a prince of pleasant manners he would have been hard pressed to forget him. A genuine apology writes itself in the rueful quirk of his mouth, followed by a faint note of perplexity as the other man draws closer to impart a tribute of thanks. In such close proximity to another's heart put on full display, there could be no doubting the sincerity that motivated its disclosures. However. The king quickly shakes his head, raising a hand that expresses his disagreement with visible perturbation.

"Rest assured, I intended to offer your companion my friendship from the start—but allow me to make myself clear. You needn't thank me. However similar I am to your Emblem, his actions are not mine, and I am not him." However forlorn the act, a conscientious distinction could not help but be made. One thing was clear, after all. "It would not be right to accept gratitude on behalf of another."

A short silence hangs in the aftermath of these words, like a spell of condemnation.

Emblem Marth. Returned to its sound, such a mysterious title once again gains in familiarity where it was once never hearkened before, its frequency raised higher by those hailing from the specific land of Elyos and one specific relation to another. Another ally of Alear standing before him, Marth would stand before Alfred, in turn, as a compassionate ghost. . .if not for the warm clasp of their hands that holds steady, a solid bridge formed for the first. This Hero-King who with a handshake asserts himself as no immaterial specter, no shadow of the past, but a solid fragment of the present and future.

". . .However, if he and I are even remotely alike, then I know he would have done it regardless. That he wouldn't have needed for thanks to be an ally to someone who needed it. To Alear and to you." The shadow of a kindly smile returned to the lord's mouth, his blue eyes rest upon the other, motionless and shining; two stagnant pools that will never waver in the qualities that they encapsulate. How those qualities appeared to the mysterious friends of Elyos an unwitting Marth could not know.

[misutiera]

"Princess Timerra, it's been a while since i last heard you sing so... I prepared a song of my own!" Alfred spoke, the song in question was actually something he had not thought the lyrics of at all but did instead have the harmony for. Clearing his throat, he spoke a last sentence before his performance began. "Hope you like it!"

Extending his arms as if he was singing to an audience bigger than one—and the possible people turning their heads to the sound—Alfred's lips parted.

"At the ball we enter with a lively run, with the company of our friends we are ready to have lots of fun~" Arms close as he claps, attempting to make an instrumental to his own song. "I'm the happiest man when i'm with Princess Timerra my dearest friend! With her i sing, dance and thanks to her more about Solm i comprehend~!"

Although short the song came to an end and instead of bowing as any artist would, he laughed.

"So! How was it?"

Mild curiosity at what song he has prepared for her is quick to grow alongside her smile. Perhaps a head or two turns at the commotion, but Timerra pays them no mind. In the end, Alfred's audience of one awards him with thunderous applause. “♪Oh, isn't Prince Alfred just the best? As anyone who knows him can attest!♪” A pause, then she breaks out into a full grin. “Prince Alfred, it was great! Incredible! Bravo, bravo— hehe!”

Really, it was. Usually Timerra's the one performing for others— no one has ever sung to her before. There'll be an extra twinkle in her eyes for the rest of the night for sure. She clasps her hands together. “I heard the monastery holds choir practice in the cathedral. We should go together some time!”

That's for the morning to figure out, though. While the stars are still hung up in the sky and the night is still ethereal, Timerra's going to make the most of it. “But since you mentioned dancing”— she takes one of his hands, gently tugging him toward the dance floor— “we gotta do some of that too, okay? Come on!”

[hresvelged]

* a kiss to the back of their hand, before beginning to formally dance ( ex. waltzing ) / alfie @ edel

Edelgard considers herself an expert at dance— At the graceful and slower styles, having it ingrained in her being since childhood. Many faces seek to dance with the Adrestian heir, but only some sought a number with Edelgard instead of the next emperor.

Amidst her thoughts, the familiar face of Firene's royalty enters her peripheral. Alfred approaches the princess, Edelgard's hand stretched outright as a petite peck is planted to the back of her gloved palm. He is a prince and his etiquette shows as much. The formal gesture doesn't escape the girl's eyes, offering a small smile in return. It is her way of acknowledgement and understanding.

"I'd be happy to dance with you, Prince Alfred." Sustaining the expression on her lips, she leads them to the center of the dance floor and places her other hand atop his shoulder. "I expect you know the proper techniques.. Perhaps as well as I, even. I look forward to it."

[apathynoir]

♡ hiii

send me a ♡ and i’ll describe what i think our muses’ child would be like | open

"i've got tea weightlifting with father at nine, martial arts training with father at ten-thirty, and then i'm gonna try catching fish with my bare hands until lunch. huh? what? that's not charming? what on earth is more charming than recreational activities with your own beautiful body?!"

noble > chevalier de pique (custom adv class)

really pumps up chivalry to eleven. she knows every single etiquette rule by heart. she pulls out the chair for everyone and then pushes it in when they sit down. as the army fills, this makes dinner take longer.

wildly strong but knows how to control it... mostly. she still does things like carry her horse around with one hand and playfully punch the wind out of her comrades.

has strong affinity with lances, gauntlets, and knives. she is especially dangerous with knives, in no small part due to dwyer's extensive training with them.

loves keeping a fairytale prince-like aesthetic, but sometimes goes off the mark (like noodling or wrestling with her horse). she somehow manages to trace everything she does back to elegance.

adores teatime and keeping flowers. she has stronger connections to firene on the whole, including how she dresses.

wakes up at the crack of dawn to take her horse, peony, out for a morning ride every day. she never skips a day for any reason.

[bxldrsdraumar]

He could remember the first time he saw an Emblem, he was shocked. To know someone resided inside a ring... that for a human felt like fiction, yet he saw it with his two eyes over and over again.

The sensation Alfred first felt when he put on the ring of the holy knight was one that would never leave his chest, the surge of power that rushed through his veins and when they Engaged? It felt as if his body was no longer frail, the first time he wished to stay like this for just a little longer but ultimately knew that if he wanted strength, he wished to build it himself even if other's helped him. To take it from someone else, to use their strength, that didn't fix how weak he was in his core.

But those thoughts scattered like petals when he stood in front of said knight that had aided him and his friends countless of times. Emblem Sigurd had left this world, he saw it with his own two eyes, yet... here he was standing as if nothing had happened. "...It's good to see you," He mumbled low, more towards himself than the person he wished to speak to.

No, this couldn't be the Sigurd he knew, not only he wasn't floating but he clearly could be touched. And that was when Alfred remembered that Emblems shared name, voice, stories, appearance with people that had already existed, and it sends a bittersweet sensation in his heart—to see the face of a friend but for it to not be them, how unfair it was for this Sigurd to in this moment live in Alfred's heart as a shadow of someone the knight didn't even know.

But the prince kept those feelings to himself, a smile—one he tried to make seem as sweet as he could rather than sad—on his lips but his hand still reached towards him. "Hello there!" He said with a vibrant tone. "My name's Alfred, it is great to meet you." Sir Sigurd, the holy knight.

It was a funny thing to become accustomed, being recognized everywhere he went. Even in his own home of Chalphy there had been some small degree on anonymity - merely some lord or another, merely some knight - but here at Garreg Mach, Sigurd had grown to learn what it looked like as recognition beamed bright as the sun while he smiled politely and waited for his own understanding to dawn.

In most cases it happened with knights, professors, a draw to them that held them as distinctly Jugdral, distinctly countrymen or those whom he had shared arms and tales with under a broad night sky beside a cookfire. Fewer, with children - children of Grannvale, or Thracia, or Agustria as the progeny of his closest companions found themselves drawn to him in their due course.

And others that knew him only by name, a portrait printed in a history textbook, and that fame he found he'd the hardest time shouldering.

But there were times other still that straddled the line in between, of intimacy and familiarity, but also of distant legend.

He'd seen it in the deaconess, in the king professor, and he saw it now in the smile of the young man before him.

Sigurd grasped the boy's - Alfred's - hand, gripped it firmly and smiled warm in kind. "It is a delight to make your acquaintance, Alfred, lad. I look forward to seeing your growth in these halls. You've the makings of a fine knight, if I've ever seen one."

[firelles]

A small bouquet of flowers on one hand and a box on the other, Alfred approached his sister with a smile from ear to ear. "There you are!" He chirped handing the bouquet of yellow, orange and white daisies to her before resuming his speech. "I said i'd bring you little joys and today i bring you a small pile of them! It's a special day after all."

"Flowers aren't all i got you since we got plenty of those in Firene." Maybe that was why he enjoyed gifting each of his friends ones when the occasion came. He grew up with and loved them but Céline did too so bringing a memory of home was a joy, or so he thought at least. Still she had been by his side since always, supporting him when he was frail, adventuring with them in the search of small joys, she was a butterfly bringing joy to the frail now bloomed strong flower he was. She deserved more than that. "Sooo in this box i got two more things since i thought they would be to your taste."

Using the opposite hand to lift the lid of the box a small twinkle of light shone as the light reflected on the surface of the jewelry inside of it. In the middle rested a pair of golden earrings in the shape of a butterfly, surrounding it a necklace with a four-leaf clover charm the same material as the earrings on it. "A pair of butterflies like the ones on your crown, cute right?"

Putting the lid of the box under his arm he picked the necklace up. "Can i help you put it on?" He asked, smiling as he continued to speak. "It's not the same thing as the real deal but i hope it reminds you of the small joys we have found and of how i'll be with you for as long as i can. But enough of that! It's your birthday so..."

"Happy birthday Céline! Being your brother makes me the happiest man in the world. I hope you know i love you with all my heart."

She knew this day was on the horizon, but she had not planned anything extraordinary for it. Her intentions for the time had been to enjoy a cup of tea with her brother or whomever else might seek their company, but the assortment in his hands as he approached her was what sparked surprise atop the girl's face.

"Ah, Alfred! This is very kind of you," she replied with a warmth to her tone. Céline held the colorful bouquet close to her chest, allowing the floral aroma to reach her. It was true Firene was plentiful in flowers, and yet, she never did get tired of them. She was about to thank her brother for the arrangement, but he continued on.

The earrings matched perfectly with that of her crown as if she were destined to wear them. Then, there was more. A necklace of times past was but truly the stem that brought her back— She could remember the greenery vividly, and now, she would wear it as a constant reminder. "You gathered all of this for me..? Truly? It was not necessary..! I would have been content just spending time with you."

Céline nodded, words softened with a pause: "But, yes. I.. I should like to wear it now." Tucking the bouquet under her left arm, she used her right to toss her hair over her shoulder and out of the way. Green irises gazed downwards, the glints of clover sparkling off of her eyes.

"Alfred.." Shifting her focus forward as the necklace was fastened, she allowed the rarity of the moment to blossom. She had not felt this joyous in quite some time— It both feared and delighted her simultaneously. The last thing she wanted to do was ruin all of Alfred's efforts, keeping the thoughts tucked for only herself to hear. Even so, the smile on her face was genuine. "It is lovely. The flowers, the jewelry.. Everything. I can tell you put a lot of thought into this. I thank you."

No matter what obstacles might dare to toss themselves her way, she would never lose these items. Her hair fell towards her face once the necklace was on tightly, positioning herself to face Alfred with her head held upright. "I love you, too. Allow me to keep supporting you; That is my greatest wish."

[starrook]

[Champagne ] / i'm so sorry Alcryst he's a little. happy.

"Prince Alcryst, there you are!" The Firenese made his entrance with a half empty glass in hand, the liquid danced until his arm came to a halt close to his chest. Green eyes inspected the Brodian's outfit from head to toe and with an approving hum, he grinned. "Our outfits match a little bit, right?"

Alfred gestured at the cape and their boots, although the styles were completely different on the latter besides the length being similar, it didn't matter! Their suits' colors were the opposite, 'that's nice' Alfred thought and then jumped to talk about something else.

"I hope you're having fun! I sure am!" That was a thought he had shared with some people throughout the night, having fun was the most important of this! Alfred raised his glass and brought it up to his lips for a small sip. Then he took another and another one, lastly he looked at Alcryst. "Hm... hmmm... i wanted to bring you a glass to cheer, but they only gave me this one!"

Do they match? "I'm so sorry," Alcryst blurts out, though it becomes apparent that Alfred seems delighted by the coincidence. "Um... sorry, I shouldn't apologize. You're right... our capes match, don't they? They're different styles, but they're both blue." He notices the white and gold dominating Alfred's outfit, reminding him of the student uniforms but also of... "You sort of look like Emblem Sigurd, too," Alcryst adds with a small smile. "The blue, white and gold, I mean. It suits you."

The offer comes as a surprise. "Oh, because you're a student, right? So that's the only glass you can have for the night." Even thought Alcryst is younger, as a knight he isn't subject to the same restriction. "I already finished one earlier, but if you'd like to make a toast, I can get another one... as a knight, they can give it to me without much fuss."

There is some hesitation on Alcryst's part. He needs to remain clear-headed through the night if he's to perform his duties as a prince. If he gets drunk before the party is even half over, Diamant would never let him hear the end of it. At the same time... how bad can champagne be, really? Alcryst doesn't feel too bad after that glass he shared with his father. And he can't imagine it's that strong, considering how much it's used for parties. Maybe it would be fine to drink a second glass now...

The pressure Prince Alfred exudes is immense. To refuse a toast is out of the question. But would he see Alcryst as a child if he insisted on water or something instead? Would that kill the mood?

"...M-Maybe we can cheer with something else?" Alcryst suggests hesitantly. "Um, I wouldn't want you to waste your champagne on me... how about that sparkling water, instead? There's supposed to be a bunch of different flavors."

[rafent]

🍪 hello

"Enough."

Though it sounded from a defunct Fell prince with no authority or crown of his own, still the dragon's single word exuded with his usual immovable confidence. The scrub of his hand followed, smudging away the grime that accompanied an enervating sparring session upon the drill grounds. Enough to work up a fine sweat and an even finer appetite. As for the matter of victory and defeat. . .well.

One could certainly discern Rafal's outcome from the honest way he carried himself in regards to both. Face pinched and heavily begrudged, his training lance tossed to the ground with a distinct lack of respect for the weapon. Casting his attention elsewhere, when next he gazed upon Alfred it was to produce a small box, crumpled from his pocket but with contents no less intact despite their brittle quality.

"We have done as you please, Alfred, and you have even squeezed victory from it. Let it be my turn now." What exactly he had in mind was more easily shown than explained, though he spoke on the note regardless. Resting a strawberry-breaded stick between his lips, it wagged up and down slightly with each syllable. How Rafal continued to appear so imposing in spite of it was a retrospective miracle. "—there is word of a popular activity where two people start at opposite ends and consume a biscuit until one withdraws. Among ourselves we will treat it as a challenge."

A challenge, of course, that Rafal would not back down from.

His solemn nod preceded the start. Faint pressure applied on his end of the biscuit, growing and growing as he paved his way to the other side held between Alfred's teeth. His unwavering advance no different from the charge of a mighty warlord, the tips of their noses brushed - a hair shy of consuming everything in his reach like a true conquerer until chance impeded that conquest.

The stick snapped before their sights. Whether from nerves or from simple lack of skill, he did not know, but as it had clearly broken on Alfred's chosen hemisphere, the allocation of winner and loser was deemed even clearer. His resulting smirk glowed. Radiant. "Hah. A win for a win on this day. A shame for you that war is not so easy, little brother."

[servarreginam]

If it wasn't for the fact he already looked at his retainer's arms the same way, Alfred would have kept the impressed but mostly yearning to be as beefy face. He did not know this man in the slightest but how easy it was for him to start a conversation and specially how easy it was if muscles were the main topic Alfred couldn't help but approach him with curiosity and a chance to inspect his build.

His arms were clearly strong, the muscles in them not needing to be fully flexed to show most of its firmness. His thighs seemed to follow the same path, how much training did it take for him to achieve this? And his pectorals? Well, they sure seemed firm and... big! This red-haired man was a pinnacle of strength, just like Boucheron was. Oh how he wished to know his secrets!

Fixing his gaze away of the very nice looking chest, he finally met his brown eye. The eyepatch on his visage not only made his already inspiring appearance cooler but also made him realize that surely he was a though guy. "My name's Alfred, nice to meet you!" He cleared his throat, this was a question of upmost importance after all. "Say... you're pretty beefy, what is your training regimen? Did it take you long? Do you have abs underneath your shirt?"

Never-ending questions from a prince that felt like a frail stick in comparison to him.

Saber was used to being stared at - came with the job, any merc worth his salt would know who he was, or at the very least would know he was someone to be wary of. And even if they weren't a merc, he wasn't stranger to a pair of friendlier eyes on him.

This seemed to lean closer to the latter, though he couldn't say he was expecting the wave of questions that followed. Beefy? He'd been called worse, he supposed...

"Hold on there, kiddo," he said, pressing a firm hand to the boy's shoulder. Eager little fella, wasn't he? "Alfred, you said? Yeah, pleasure, charmed an' all - you just walk right up to a guy an' ask about his abs?"

Not that he was opposed to talking about them, if the situation presented itself, but this wasn't quite his usual segue. Or his usual audience - a lot younger, for one...

And a lot more interested in the hows rather than the whats.

Scrubbing a hand along the back of his head, he looked down at Alfred dubiously. "Listen, kid. I got this body by needing it - been in a lotta scrapes, and a lot worse than scrapes. I ain't gonna recommend you try bein' like me - " gods forbid, "'cause it ain't something that someone like you should strive for. You stick to your fancy noble exercise regimes, they'll do you a sight better than the life I've lived."

[nelithic]

A sibling he knew well and one he didn't as much, but a ball or any other occasion were room for friendships to bloom and he would take the chance! With a casual stance he approached Nel. "Hey lady Nel, your outfit looks great on you!" A compliment that held true, the shape suit her and the colors were a perfect match to her skin. Hopefully it would also turn to be something to break the ice without having to do small talk. those could be incredibly awkward to some people.

"Can i tell you something?" He would anyway. With a hand covering his lips and slightly leaning closer to her to speak in a somewhat more 'quiet' voice he shared his secret. "I think these serving rat's outfits are very cute—OH and the music played by crickets is really good too, i myself enjoy some tunes so some cricket-played ones sure are a new experience!" And all he told was no secret, only positive reactions to this miniature ball.

the exuberant call rings from none other than the prince of efflorescent firene, nation of water and meadows cauterized by rivers running red with iron. save that here, those meadows flowered still — and if the firene she had known wore brodia's warmongering face in this world, then perhaps the opposite was likewise true.

this alfred's face certainly bore none of the lines of his fell predecessor; she finds it does his appearance good, for youthful joy to light his eyes in the place of sleepless ambition's dulling gleam. but more than that alone, the sight of the young royal is a welcome relief for a different reason.

"thank you, prince alfred. i admit i am still growing accustomed to it myself."

that reason being the unexpected friendship he had formed with rafal in the time, she assumed, that she had spent in slumber. her brother had not spoken of it directly, but observation had discerned enough of the tale at its surface.

before she could say more, however, the prince leans in close, voice dropping to a surreptitious whisper — but if nel had been prepared for a quiet exchange of serious news beneath the cheerful greeting, what comes is anything but.

she finds herself put on, as they say, ' a back foot ' for a heartbeat. the serving rats — cute? ... she supposes they are not unsightly, though in truth she hadn't paid them much mind herself. and the music; aside from the anomaly of the musicians, the pieces themselves were pleasant of course, but likewise nothing she would have expected a firenese ear to find exceptional. nevertheless, she finds herself — "... yes, they are certainly original, i agree." — concurring, in a sense.

"how are you enjoying the occasion?" she opts to continue. the alfred of this world doesn't seem the kind to concern himself with the elementals' motives, nor their reasons for being shrunken and ferried here, and the manner of their eventual escape. "i am sure my brother must be pleased to see you, though he may never say so himself."