#interaction: braveryinblue

[peerlessscowl]

a kiss after one muse has injured the other 

"Well, look at this," he murmurs softly, kneeling down to a crouch. "It seems the lord Marquess Ostia has injured himself terribly on the field of battle. That is a grievous wound, milord," Raven gestures with his sword to the gash peeking through Hector's tunic, snug in between the spaces where his armor fit together. "You should endeavor to get that looked at."

Raven casts a glance over his shoulder. "Knights are a ways away, though. Pity. I shall call them over in a moment, I think. You know," he says, turning his gaze, burning and furious in contrast to the ice-cold of his words, "It is a shame. I've seen your brother in battle many times, though never in such a position as this. Though I suppose he's died now, hasn't he? My condolences."

Taking a knee, Raven leans in quite close, so close he can smell the metal of the whelp's armor, the iron of his blood, the tang of his sweat beneath his collar. He holds for a moment, then presses a soft kiss to Hector's cheek.

As he draws back, he makes eye contact for a moment, and his lips quirk as he stands, turning on his heel to fetch the Knights.

[bxldrsdraumar]

Sigurd Go Down the Hole

“Hark! Hark, I say! No, no, down here!” If the sight of a ragged white horse grazing in the middle of the forest doesn’t grab your attention, the voice that calls from the bottom of a pit sure does. A tall man with tousled blue hair winces as he waves at you, claiming to have broken his leg when he fell into this *dastardly* trap. “I, King Sigurd of Grannvale, humbly request thine aid! Know that thy kindness today will reward thee handsomely in the years to come!” [Grants Faith +1]

(starter for @braveryinblue)

Cleared for duty, the nurse had said. Or near enough, they supposed. Sigurd's body seemed in well enough health, though there were parts of him that still behaved strangely, muscle memory that didn't quite remember why. To say nothing of his mind. Nevertheless, he had been given the clearance to leave the monastery, the pretty cage of the academy, and actually move.

And not a moment too soon, he thought upon receiving his briefing. Some crime syndicate or other had decided to pull the wool over the eyes of some lesser nobles in the norther regions of the continent, using famous names and the promise of favor in exchange for favors, trinkets, gifts, money. Simultaneously bolstering and muddying the reputations of all in involved, and vanishing before the consequences could be served.

It was…well, it was ridiculous, and Sigurd might have gotten mad if he had not heard the claims his own imposter was making.

He had entreated for that mission to the archbishop personally.

His charge was a young man, a student of the Blue Lions house, big and brash, with a hefty axe arm and a presence that felt…almost familiar. Sigurd could not quite put his finger on it, but it comforted him all the same.

They rode north, seeking out where the imposter had last been heard of. Dense forests and thickets of the Faerghan region made the hunt all the more difficult if it hadn't been for one thing: the imposter's desire to be seen.

Sigurd recognized the white horse and he smirked, clicking at his own pale mount and urging it forward gently, mindful of the piles or dirt that surrounded the area. Quietly, he dismounted, shooting a look back to the young man with him and cocking his head in the direction of the hole.

None-too-carefully, Sigurd picked his way across the clearing, mindless of the cracking of branches beneath his boots as he approached. Something stirred within the hole, and he heard…the most atrocious stage accent erupt from within.

Is that supposed to be me?

Standing at the edge of the hole, looking down critically at the imposter within, Sigurd crossed his arms over his chest, a chuckle bubbling up from his throat as he shook his head in disappointment.

"Oh Sigurd," he said, partly to himself and partly to the man in the hole, laughing at his own joke, "What mess have you gotten yourself into this time?"

[albwreckt]

[ challenge ] There's somethin' about a guy this size (not to mention the uh, everything else) that has Hector wondering how he's managed to miss seeing him before. Ah well. No time like the present to fix that, right? "Hey, you, with the arms the size of a melon." Hector is sat at a table, arm held out expectantly. "Name's Hector. Let's wrassle, yeah? Winner gets the other's trinket or whatever." (hec rolled a pathetic 9 godspeed baltie)

It certainly takes one meathead to know another. Balthus’ attention is seized the moment he hears about those watermelon-sized arms, rightfully believing that there’s no one else in attendance who could earn a claim such as that. His mouth twists into a smirk. A challenge: a chance for fame, glory, and pride to shine on him in equal measure. He’ll prove to Hector that he’s King for a reason.

“You’re on, pal–er, Hector!” His elbow crashes against the table with monstrous force. He stands to half his height, kicking his chair back in the process, and revealing what a titan of a man he is. If Hector’s heart felt fear in this moment, Balthus would not blame him. “You sure do know how to speak my language. A wrassle and a bet? Now that’s what I call cuttin’ to the good stuff!” 

They lock hands, firm grips meeting like two unstoppable tides. “I’m Balthus, by the by. You’ll want to remember that when you watch me walk away with your ornament.” And thus, without any more introduction or fanfare, their battle begins. 

Hector proves to be a worthy foe. His constitution backs his arm well, clearly versed enough in handling a weapon to view Balthus’ arm as a handle. But swing with the King as much as he likes, he won’t beat Balthus. This guy’s got a few years on the young noble, and as such, more time spent chucking axes (and breaking fences). His strength and experience are enough to mount him an advantage after some struggle, which he levies against the Ostian until finally his victory is in sight. 

SMASH!

Hector’s wrist hits the table hard enough to wake up any sleeping drunks on the other side. Riotous laughter pours out of Balthus as he straightens his back to soak himself in victory, doing a few paces around their arena with his arms held high. “Not a bad match, but I’ll be taking that,” he snatches the bell off the other’s brooch, “and making myself available for rematches, if you ever feel like taking on the big Balthus once again!”

[pryings]

a quiet hum buzzes through the dining hall as those assembled are shuffled in. this 'psychological experiment' or 'speed dating game' or 'social gathering' or whatever it is has been prepared. in place of the long dining tables, the hall is filled with numerous small, round tables, each with a number placed upon them. you are to find your assigned tables, chat with your partner, and hopefully make some kind of connection.

the goal of this exercise is somewhat vague, but knoll and hubert seem poised to take notes. so that's interesting.

schedule:

12pm. EST Feb 14 - 11:59pm Feb 15 ROUND ONE. 12pm. EST Feb 16 - 11:59pm Feb 17 ROUND TWO. 12pm. EST Feb 18 - 11:59pm Feb 19 ROUND THREE. 12pm. EST Feb 20 LAST WORDS.

please tag all interactions #toaLoveHypothesis2024. you will receive an ask from hubert or knoll within the next few hours asking if you like or dislike your partner. unanswered asks default to a 'no.' please answer it at any point before the round ends.

rounds will be 36 hours long, but should narratively simulate the speed dating experience of only having a few minutes to talk. it should feel rushed. interactions can be asks or short threads, please communicate with your partner to determine what works best. you can continue an incomplete interaction after a round concludes if you wish, but please note that you need to vote by the round's end!

the questions provided are only suggestions. if your muse would not want to discuss this topic, feel free to talk about whatever you wish.

caspar (@berglietz) & yarne (@taguelbunnyboy) topic: assuming you do not die within the coming months, what are your plans for the future?

linhardt (@pridelessdaydreamer) & sakura (@gentlenekomata) topic: what hobbies do you partake in?

lucius ( @semperiuvare) & sara (@shadoll)  topic: if tasked with healing an injured stranger, how would you respond?

louis (@etrefleurbleues) & arval (@laruarva) topic: how do you connect with others on an interpersonal level?

deirdre (@nagaficat) & eitri (@grimkkr) topic: thoughts on magic and its practical uses.

elffin (@moriddyn) & forsyth (@viridescent-lance) topic: describe your ideal vacation.

lachesis (@pridedprincess) & selena (FE8) (@fluxrspar) topic: two interesting truths and one compelling lie.

shez (@partnerindestiny) & hilda (@delicatevalentine) topic: fabric softener and its impractical uses.

dimitri (@blaiddllodi) & l’arachel (@aglaean)  topic: total monsters you have vanquished.

minerva (@reddragonprincess) & zephia (@ruinakete) topic: which food brings you the most joy?

jakob (@indevouement) & denning (@beholdenning) topic: which animal you most relate to?

mark (@allyphase) & laslow (@laslow) topic: your favorite type of cat.

elincia (@amitieos) & hector (@braveryinblue) topic: what is justice?

(tumblr has decided to implement a limit on how many people can be @'d in a single post, so if you do not see your muse's name, check the second part of the post)

[nelithic]

———　ethereal ball housekeeping.

listed below are the ongoing ball interactions for both nel and rosado and their current status as far as i know.

⟢　if you intend to keep going, no action needed. ⟢　if you have something different in mind ( want to drop it, want me to edit my last reply to close it, etc. ), please let me know.

←　in my court →　in your court

nel .

edelgard mini ,　@hresvelged　→ sophia mini ,　@nabataprophet　→ hector mini ,　@braveryinblue　→

rosado .

pitcher perfect? ,　@knightofgalatea　← hortensia mini ,　@asperants　→ kent mini ,　@liegebound　→