#lumoire

[wisheswagered]

Frederick has always been someone easily swayed by paranoia and distrust. Sometimes, his suspicions fall into the realm of the irrational - which he can usually recognize using reason and common sense, but those things are never enough to fully convince him that he's wrong for keeping his distance or putting up his guard.

Today is no different. Though in this case, it's difficult to tell if he's truly being unreasonable or not... Usually, Frederick tries to at least keep up a polite enough demeanor to prevent unpleasant rumors from spreading, and to keep up his reputation, however fragile it may be, in the eyes of the public. But in a place like this, it doesn't feel like that particularly matters anymore. Perhaps his companion feels the same way.

"If you've got something to say, then please, go ahead." Frederick's voice somehow manages to be both soft and sharp at once, creating a distinctly disdainful tone that could just barely be denied if it were to be challenged.

"...Well? I'm listening."

@lumoire ( starter for richard or matthias! )

[battingchaos]

@lumoire ♥'d for a little starter (for Argenti)

Smile beams unto her features as she extends a bright red rose out to the red haired knight. "Surprise! I knew you were coming, I thought a knight of beauty would appreciate a rose, hm?"

[svpernovae]

@lumoire (Matthias) prompted:

goodbye a heartfelt kiss when parting, showing affection and fondness florimatt - no longer accepting!

au where they survive and made it out of the manor

His hands tremble a little as he adjusts Matthias trench coat over his chest. It's his old one, an ill fit on the puppeteer but it'll make do for the trip. Had he had more time he probably would have gotten him a decent one, but the old thing will have to do. He can only hope Matthias will forgive the smoky scent on it. Around them the crowd moves in waves as people come and go, stay and leave. There's sobs and laughter, children running in excitement, baggage's being hauled loudly onto the deck as people prepare to climb to the ship.

This is the first time he's seeing somebody off so formally. In all his past goodbyes they were quick and brutal, barely any time to process the absence as they are taken away. This time though, he gets to actually say it. To actually stew on the feeling of what's to come and it's unsettling.

"You'll write to me, yes?"

He doesn't know what else to do with himself. Had he a choice, he would be pulling the ticket from his hand and thrown it away. But as it stands, life doesn't favor him choices, at least not yet. It's a necessary evil to go through, if only for Matthias to resolve his affairs back home. He can't imagine what weight the other's last name carries, but it's enough to summon him away from him.

"Be sure to keep warm and dry. I know you like the rain but you'll get sick from the cold." He's starting to sound like a mother-hen, it's embarrassing but he still does it. He cannot save him over there, he has to trust that Matthias will be alright on his own. After the manor it feels like he himself can barely survive, much less without the other, but he'll have to make do. As he always does, as he always has.

It's almost time, he shouldn't pester him any longer than he needs to. The ship crew is making their final call, Matthias should still make it if he hurries.

"...I'll miss you."

There's a pause, a minute one as he ponders if he should go for it but it's quickly fixed with a sharp tug at Matthias jacket. Their lips meet unceremoniously, untenderly so but he can't help it. He'll miss the man as much as he misses his parents. It's his own ruin, his own little hell that he's creating by having a kiss to linger on him in the others absence.

It's with much reluctance that he lets go. With much reluctance he watches him leave. He joins the crowd as they wave away, trying to spot the mousy man from afar but it's hard. Still he waves too, as high as he can with an open smile. Even if life changes and Matthias never returns, even they stop speaking and Florian's left to his own demise eaten by guilt, he should at least be sent off with a smile.

[timesunder]

Hands grip together upon seeing her, the woman so many adore and look up to in admiration, with a nearly angelic voice. It's almost funny how she — or, well, rather SAM — is the complete opposite ; infamous and wanted, with a ridiculous sum of money on her head. Yet here they stood, right across from each other.

❝ O-oh — uhm.. ❞ Barely stumbling out, causing grip around her own hands to tighten. It's funny how she could go from entirely composed and even cold as SAM, go to a girl who'd stumble over her own words at times.

❝ I've been enjoying your songs a lot lately, Miss Robin ! To meet you here.. makes me extremely happy. I guess Penacony really is the Land of Dreams. ❞ Her tone is excited and happy — a fake facade she's used to, to prevent people from getting suspicious of her. But.. not like she was lying ; meeting @lumoire herself truly is an honor.

[zorkaya-moved]

“ i’m concerned that you mightn’t understand what discreet means. because the path of chaos you’ve just created is exactly the opposite of discreet. ” (lucifer)

@lumoire

The words spoken by Lucifer are met with a mildly exhausted look. Does he pretend not to know or did Lucilius forbid the knowledge of her inability to deny their creator a secret? Because she cannot deny him, she cannot deny any word and order Lucilius gives her. Discrepancies will not be tolerated and failures will be executed. The path of chaos she creates is one of blood, guts, and taken will. The primals and primarchs will never know of her existence in terms of her role, it’ll remain only known to the very first two creations - to Lucifer himself and Belial. 

Does it matter to him what path she chooses and what path she has to walk? As if he, who has free will against their creator, understands her. As if he can understand the importance of equality at this very moment. It’s quite draining to think about it, but Morael doesn’t change her expression. It’s hollow, quiet, and calm. As if she doesn’t hear him but looks past him. It does not matter what he does now, does it? He can destroy her if Lucilius ever leaves or he can watch what she decides to do. But orders are orders, she will never be able to disobey Lucilius. 

“I’m concerned you might be forgetting who has complete power over me and it’s not you, Lucifer,” she looks down at her hands, her white clothes drenched in a variety of different liquids that can constitute as blood. The variety of colors is sickening against her seemingly pristine appearance, but she does not feel anything but hollowness while looking down at it.

The void makes her understand that there is a possibility that Lucifer will never understand that even this chaos means nothing. It echoes like white noise, there is no fixing it. Not when the orders are given and she must carry it out. The shackle around her neck will be her endless collar. If Lucilius orders, she will not be able to stop her body from carrying out God’s order.

However, the true problem comes not from the fact that she cannot disobey their creator's order, but that even if there were no shackles around her wrists, ankles and neck? She wouldn't feel a single thing about this arrangement either. Specifically, her work arrangement. The only emotion of disdain, unhappiness and envy is brought by the shackles placed on her. Not the kind of person their creator is, not how he sees the rest of them, not how he sees the world.  

“Please, bring it up with Master Lucilius next time you see him. My work is not as discreet as I’d like it to be either. I must continue disposing of failures to give our creator room for his work,” she speaks in a strange monotone, lacking any and all emotion to respond to Lucifer’s words. There should be concern, of course, but Morael simply knows there is no point in fussing over it. One order will have another following, it’s how they live and how they exist.

Each creation has its purpose and the first creation of Lucilius has the ‘perfection’ slapped on his forehead. It seems her plans of using her powers to make each and every primals who might see her ‘dispose of failures’ have all been wiped as expected. The power of her ‘word’ remains the prima example why she is such a useful ‘tool’. Ah, but does it really matter to Lucifer when he brings it up? 

“If you wish for this to remain more discreet, please do not ask me to go against orders. You would be…”

A sad and bitter smile appears on the woman’s face as she then looks down, eyes glossing over for a moment before she whispers: 

“...undeniably cruel to request that of me, Lucifer.”

Because while you can say 'no', and I cannot.

[swordcoasted-arc]

* 𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐎𝐈𝐑𝐄 asked for a starter.  OLEANDER & NESTA.  ( based off of swordcoasted's nesta d'angelis playlist. )  CHOKEHOLD CHERRY PYTHON - ASHNIKKO

inhale. exhale. in the nose, and then out the mouth. the stench of blood surrounds her, her vision unclouded, her mind open to the will of the great being of the outer realms. murder for the sake of justice is divine, and she is divinity in mortal form, that much she knows. that much has been told to her since the day she took her last breath of mortality and her first of the occult. if sparing the damned makes her the bigger person, then let her be small. she wipes the blood from her face, once more, and turns to look at her travelling party, stepping over the viscera.

" live a villain, die an icon, " she laughs, shaking the blood out of her boot. " you were quite impressive, new friend. and yet you swear you are not connected to the great old ones at all. what about your hypnosis, your manipulation of the mind? it's so familiar, and yet... not. " / @lumoire

[deathsmaidens]

@lumoire,  unprompted . . .

word had reached him that someone was asking around looking for a man who fit his description.  it was only a matter of time before they found him and sure enough, a woman stepped through the doors of one of the city's many taverns. 

delmar sat in the shadows of a corner booth,  the kind of spot that let him see without being seen too easily.  a half-full mug rested on the worn wooden table before him,  untouched for some time.  

when she tossed a coin onto the table,  it spun briefly before coming to a stop.  delmar's lips curved into a faint smirk,  as he let the silence stretch just a second too long.   ❝  you know my services require more than that,    ❞   

even so, he plucked the coin from table,  rolling it idly between his fingers.  he leaned forward then,  one arm resting on the table as he gave her a look, both steady, calculating and a touch of intrigue.   ❝  depends on what you need.    ❞

⠀⠀ milou let out a huff of amusement. ⠀  ❝  at ease,  ❞  ⠀ she reassures,  though the hint of a smirk is visible beneath the hood’s shadow. ⠀ ❝  there’s more of where that’s coming from  ⸺  if we can come to an agreement.  ❞ ⠀ when it comes to business,  she is not one to waste her time on pleasantries. milou didn’t wait for an invitation,  instead taking the lead herself to sit at table & drop her cloak’s hood. 

⠀⠀ these days it is a seldom occurrence that she took risks like these  ⸺  exposing herself to the world & taking matters into her own hands,  instead of letting one of her confidants play the middle messenger. but desperate times call for desperate measures & besides;  there’s only so many things that she trusted anyone other than herself to handle right. 

⠀⠀ milou studied the man before her,  letting the silence linger for a tad too long in the same way he had done. ⠀  ❝  i am in need of an escort,  ❞  ⠀ she revealed,  keeping the details of her situation intentionally vague. though navigating a situation delicately came as natural to her as breathing,  her pride’s still one of her many vices,  causing her to exercise much restraint to keep the bitterness out of her vice. after all,  this conversation  —  the need to outsource in unfamiliar territory  —  is akin to her admitting defeat.

⠀⠀ yet in the end,  all he got was an easygoing chuckle added to her plea. ⠀ ❝  unfortunately,  not the fun kind,  i might add. rather someone to see me & my companions safely across the sea towards the next shore.  ❞ ⠀ then,  her next words were spoken in a much lower voice. ⠀ ❝  preferably in discretion,  if you catch my drift.  and i am assured that you are my man for the job.  ❞

[wisheswagered]

Tracy finds Matthias' puppets fascinating. Unlike her inventions, they're not made of metal and machinery but wood and string, yet they seem to manage to spring to life all the same, in a way that she finds impresses her as a fellow inventor. Of course, they don't hold nearly the same appeal to her as the things made of cogs and clockwork, but in spite of what others think of her, Tracy can appreciate other things in life too, sometimes.

The man himself, though... what should she think of Matthias? He comes across as gloomy and pessimistic, which doesn't bother her, but doesn't particularly capture her interest either. At least, it didn't. Nowadays, Tracy has slowly started to appreciate the different quirks and natures of those who show up in the manor, if only because of what they provide - distraction, fresh perspectives, and when she's lucky, an ally to rely on.

"Were you curious about my doll?" she asks one day, sounding nonchalant, but with a gaze that borders on intense. That's no different from how she usually looks, though. "You can ask about it, if you want. I'm happy to answer any questions."

@lumoire ( starter for matthias! )

[battingchaos]

@lumoire ❤'d for a starter (For Argenti)

"Hopefully the rosebuds you picked out will bloom!~" If Stelle were to be entirely honest, she doesn't know much about gardening. But having time to get to know the Knight of beauty a little bit more even if it was simply picking out flowers in Asta's garden? It was worthwhile! She tucked one of the pink flowers she'd plucked behind her own ear and turned to him. "Got enough for your collection?" A short sniffle. " . . . I think all this pollen is starting to bother my nose."

[svpernovae]

@lumoire (matthias) prompted:

stolen a quick, stealthy, and impromptu kiss snatched in secret florimatt - no longer accepting!

It was a wonder Mathias had lasted so long. Florian had to give it to him, when he had said he would listen, he did. He hardly ever interrupted him, be it for genuine interest, or perhaps dismissive, he at least stayed long enough to humor his spiels. The orphanage was no more, long gone were the children from his tales as well, but they're still so alive in his head. And they are alive, in the way he talks of them, they still live through the stories of their mishaps, through the stories of their departures, some adopted, some emancipated, every time someone left it was always a story to tell. A hope that should be passed to the others in waiting, that the orphanage is just a passing ground, and their true home lies beyond the gates.

Florian didn't need these tales, he already had a home, once lost, once found, consumed and preserved in the fire of his mind. But nothing quite replaces the warmth of another body. The young man was leaning on him, completely on accident, probably had dozed off way before the fireman noticed but the matter of the fact was that he was a weight. A comforting one, utterly relaxed if the steady breathing was anything to go off.

Where others would have been offended, Florian found great pride in the situation. Matthias was always so jittery around him, always evasive, always looking away like he shouldn't be acknowledged. As if life should happen around him and not with him. At first he thought the young man hated him, or maybe he had made him angry with his approach. But the current heat over his shoulder spoke of trust, of peace. He was happy to have earned it.

Fingers, smoky and warm, tentatively reach but stop mid path. There's a loneliness to a star that must burn, loved by all but never touched. Saving but never saved. He doesn't know what spurs him. But there is something, something lighter, something hopeful. Something that has him think that Matthias looks lovely at peace. And that is worth the risk.

At midnight, he kissed him. He knows it from the resounding clock, he knows it from the gentle breath hitching against his lips. A quickly snatched press that barely had time to linger but the memory stays behind. Matthias lips are chapped and it's his turn to look away. His turn to wish to not be acknowledged, for he can't explain to the puppeteer what he was doing, when he can barely explain it to himself.

"It's already so late." Somehow he finds his voice, he always does, as he finds his smile, as he finds the will to pull through and ignore the heat reaching his cheeks. "We should get to our rooms."

[kuratm]

@lumoire asked: ❝ sayu your journey is nothing short of extraordinary. despite the darkness of your own past, you continue to make a positive impact on the world. ❞ from argenti!

to say sayu was left stunned would be an understatement. she knew galaxy was vast and held many types of people - from a little weird to straight up bizarre - but somehow, argenti managed to subpar her expectations. was it because she wasn't so used to compliments or the flowery language which he expressed such praise with? she couldn't tell.

either way, sayu only peered up at the knight of beauty for a moment or two before suddenly clearing her throat and averting her gaze, one finger gently scratching her cheek. ❛ umm...ehehe, i-i think you're exaggerating a bit, sir argenti... ❜ it felt right to refer to him by the title - part of manners, right? ❛ it's true i want my music to be able to help people, b-but i don't think i'm making, er...a positive impact, really... ❜ perhaps she sold herself short...curse her humbleness, she supposed.

[zorkaya-moved]

@lumoire — oleander.

"Oh, dear Oleander, I certainly enjoy a sprinkle of chaos in our dull and boring lives," there is a quirk of her lips as words are spoken in a sing-a-long voice. Her eyes glimmer in the light of the sun as they continue their travel ahead. Her steps are careful, but despite their terrains - elegant and light. Unlike many other companions, she almost makes no sound aside from when she opens her mouth. "We've just met and you already make some assumptions? Good for you and your survival." It's a jest, naturally. Zarina pluck a leaf off the branch they've passed, infusing it with magic to see if she can sense anything in the area only to be left disappointed. For now. What is she searching for? Who knows. "But, I must say, it was a delight to watch you irritate those people at the tavern. Have you always had such a charming quality to yourself?" Charming meaning 'hitting people under the belt with words alone.' Bards... What wonderful people. She likes them a bit too much. Their quick wit and sharp tongue.

[aventvrina]

❝ in the game of life, you, aventurine, are a master strategist. maneuvering through the complexities of human relationships with a finesse that few possess. never lose that boldness despite the burdens you bear. ❞ - from argenti!

The day was just turning weirder and weirder. Now he finds a simple card with flourished penmanship and a strong scent of roses. Truly, there's nothing more that could surprise him.

At least this one is motivational, albeit touching a bit on the intense. With a curious hum, he decides to save the card into his pocket before he gets his phone.

[text] Aventurine: Don't know what prompted this but it is appreciated

[text] Aventurine: Let me buy you a drink the next time we cross paths

[orexias]

  to kill or be killed ,          the same goes for the enemies that they have faced.  their existence having come to an end.  a mere victory or perhaps a twisted act of devotion to their gods.  whatever it was,  it is over now.  dark minstrel steps over a dead body,  careful not to taint his clothing more than it already was.  he's fortunate to be able to remain in the back,  but there is always a slippery one that manages to sneak past undetected.  fortunately it's nothing oleander cannot handle. 

         ❝   well aren't those words to live by ,   ❞          he responds with a flicker of amusement in his eyes.   ❝   though i would hope you don't intend on dying any time soon,  finding someone capable in this area has been troublesome enough as it is.   ❞   certainly no alliance worth investing in,  unlike this one.   ❝   i imagine the gods have a certain  ...  fondness for such techniques.  some just pretend to be nicer about it than others.   ❞   putting away his violin he adds,   ❝   but no i do not dedicate my songs to the old ones,  but to her instead.  ❞

" ... to her. "  this is a statement made in curiosity, yet still somehow not a question. amusement sits on the lady of hunger's lips as her eyes flicker towards the dark minstrel. soon the blood on their bodies will dry and flake off with their adventures, if a bath in the streams at camp does not arrive first. despite this, nesta tries to wipe her face best she can, as if the idea of having blood obscure her visage is heretical in nature. a melodious laugh leaves her - a nice rhythm, almost complimenting the vice of his songs, almost an effigy of the horror he had played but a moment ago. 

this new alliance has had its merit, yet nesta has not begun to advance upon the personals, upon the notes that make this less of an agreement and more of a friendship. companions have become but currency in a world plagued by the need to survive, holding value in their presence. nesta is no mercantilist, but she does know the value of coin despite her eagerness to spend - and temporary companions can be spent. as she looks to the minstrel again, ready to add on the end of her question, she wonders if their proposed value to one-another ends when they reach their destination. " ... and who is the her in question, might i ask? " / @lumoire , continued from @swordcoasted .

[infernalbarbarian]

❛  i  owe  you  a  heap  of  thanks .  and  my  life .  ❜ from zhera!

goblins are unyielding, especially in numbers. the battle was long and arduous, and a lot of blood was spilled, however, it's nothing karlach isn't accustomed to. killing things is what the barbarian is best at, but it still would have been nearly unachievable without the help of her newfangled, tadpole plagued comrades.

back at the grove, still steaming from combat and splattered with goblin viscera, a fanged smile decorates the barbarian’s expression. the tieflings here are nothing but grateful to the heroes who made it possible for them to make their travels safely, no longer a slog to the fear of being trawled in the night. plus, there is going to be a party at their camp that night to celebrate! gods, it’s been so long since karlach got to enjoy an evening of good company, high spirits, and a nice, frosty pint.

the larger tiefling turns as she hears a voice speaking to her, offering more acknowledgement of their triumph. karlach recognizes this tiefling from the last time she was at the grove, though they’d never spoken before until now. the first thing the red tiefling notices is how stunning in appearance the other is, but perhaps karlach is just too pent up for her own good. ten years without a gentle touch can do that to a person, “you don’t owe me anything, us tieflings got to stick together, yeah?” karlach smiles, wishing she could reach out to greet the other with a handshake, “will ya be joining in on the festivities at our camp tonight?”

[battingchaos]

@lumoire sent: argenti couldn't help but to find some amusement in the sight before him,  though he sincerely doubted the trailblazer was considering a career change. ❝   is that your impression of me ?   ❞   he asked,  his tone carrying a light touch of curiosity,  his head tilting her so slightly to the side.  the red-clad knight had just witnessed how someone at the theme park on penacony asked them to give their best impression of a knight.   still,  argenti couldn't help but wonder,  even now ...  is that truly how he sounded ?

Without a second thought, Stelle gave a beaming smile to the knight of beauty ━ but it dawns on her after that perhaps her congested, puffed out chest, and deepened voice of 'for Idrila' ! that had proudly been presented to the requester, maybe it was a little insulting.

The Trailblazer gives a few slow, curious blinks, and then rubbed the back of her head gently. "... Was it a bad impression?" Brow quirking to him. For only a brief moment, she ponders her words, but with assured honesty she retorts.

"I like the way you talk, it's . . . ━ endearing. Yeah, that's how I would describe it. Full of character, I probably don't capture it well."