#princessmacedon

[justices-blade]

After tucking her suitcase beside the bottom bunk of her assigned bed-tower, the first thing Maria does is roll onto its sheets with sparkling eyes, swiping the name cards in the same fluid motion.

"Oh...? Oh!" Lips pull back at their corners, a pearly white smile beaming from a mop of florid hair (still neatly tied...for the moment). The name next to hers is one she recognizes instantly, and as more figures filter through the doorway, she catches sight of her newest delight.

"Edward! Hee hee... over here!" She waves, card in hand, still lying down -- indeed, she only giggles more when his shadow falls over her, holding up the bed assignment for him to see with profound excitement, the top of it just barely obscuring her chin. 'Edward Maria' it reads, rather dryly, their two names separated by an empty line -- nevertheless, nowhere near enough to dampen her spirit.

"We're buddies! Weasel buddies!" Another laugh, and she kicks out her feet, careful to steer well clear of him as momentum carries her into a sitting position. "Isn't that exciting? I'm so happy it's you!" And then, leaning forward with quite the conspiratorial grin for so common a question:

"Do you want the top bunk or the bottom bunk?"

After (pretty critically) admiring the bang-up job Ser Richface had done with fixing up the shoreline (while mostly fooling around in the shallows because it's hot), Edward finally gets to dragging his (frankly very light) luggage into his assigned room— Only to be met with a very familar splash of blossom-red with a pearly grin to match.

"Noooo waaaay." He immediately whaps his pack down by the bedpost and scampers over to read the cards she's holding, borderline vibrating with excitement, even as he squints: E to the D to the WARD, and right next to that...

Yes way. Absolutely yes way.

"Let's freaking goooo!!!" The boy hoots as he pumps a fist into the air and falls sideways onto the mattress next to her with the most triumphant of floomphs ever floomphed.

"Weasel buddies! Weasel buddies!" Starts the chant, legs likewise kicking a little, but staying down as Maria comes up— At the question though, he rolls onto his stomach to prop up his chin with his palms, eyes meeting aglitter with excitement. Oh this is going to be so much fun. He grins.

"Wanna quartz-shear-parch for the top bunk?"

[lycianlynx]

It starts at breakfast in the dining hall -- which is to say, it only begins.

"Good morning, Chad," she giggles, sliding into the seat next to him, grinning over a forkful of eggs. "Happy birthday!" A fingertip creeps over the table until it just barely brushes the side of one of his, and then she pokes him once more for good, playful measure. "Can I steal a little bit of your time later? Please?"

(She departs from breakfast with a grin thrown over her shoulder, mouthing the same two words with a laugh as she disappears; she peeks her head into his classroom between classes just to catch his eye, a finger pushing up both corners of her silly grin ere she ducks out again; and she knocks on his door again, rap-a-tap-tap, a few hours into the afterschool evening.)

"Hi!" She grins, and giggles, and grins again, a speckling of flour touching her hair. One hand darts out, fingers splayed and wiggled mischievously. "Do you have time right now? --yeah?" A brief and different inflection, reminiscent of the one shining in the reflection of her eyes. "Hee hee... I think you should hold my hand to prove it." (Never mind the fraction-tilt of her chin, round eyes peering hopefully from beneath her bangs.) And, should he relent to this tremendous and most fiendish affection, she shall lace their fingers together, roses gently brushing her cheeks as she pulls them along.

Down, down, to a familiar scene, if a different spread. This time it is simpler: an open box of handmade cookies, flecked with gold and scarlet (almond and cranberry -- an experiment, chosen for its colors); a small angel food cake hidden beneath fluffy whipped topping and a crumbling of yellow fruit; and in her hands, when they turn back to her, a small plush cat, its eyes sharp and its smile kind, (and most importantly, with heart shaped beans embroidered into its paws).

Though how soon they notice, who can tell? She certainly aims to distract with the smiling kiss planted against his cheek.

It's almost like there's no way Chad can continue expecting quiet birthdays, even if they had never really hoped for them— It's amazing, what the constants of a single year can get you used to, what hopes it'll set up for the next. Even Maria joining them for breakfast as she's wont to do is met with a little smile and bright eyes, the former stifled behind a mouthful of berries and oats, backfiring as they nearly choke on thanks.

"Always," they had said, without missing a beat.

(And that's an awfully big promise to give to anyone and really mean, isn't it?

And yet: She doesn't know how much of their time she steals already, even beyond actually hounding their day like a lop-eared pup. Today, they meet her eyes at every other turn, having to stifle a smile or even a snort, subtly wiggling fingers back in greeting.

But even when she isn't there, flashing little secret smiles and silly faces— They find her again in the margins of their notes, on loose pages stuck into textbooks, in peripheral flashes of red their eyes follow, even if it is just a rose, a cardinal's feathers, the sun's shine.)

Days like these remind them of kinder years. Selfishly, they want to seek solace in them. They seek solace in the rhythm of her rap-a-tap-tap, the flour in her hair, the smile on her face, the mimicry she flatters them with that they duck from upon recognition.

"I do," Chad replies, deciding they can be selfish for once: It's their fuckin' birthday. "Said so earlier, yeah? My time's all yours."

To prove it: There's only a split second of hesitation before they grab her hand, just a little too fast, but sincere in its holding fast, seeking solace in that, too: Her palm warm against theirs. They chew their lip for a fraction of a second before tilting their own chin slightly upward with the same teasing edge, reaching up to ruffle the flour out of her hair.

A— Saints forbid, a giggle slips out, an equal mirror of her own mirth, bashful and young, spirited away with the wind as he follows her, down, down, down— Thud-thud, thud-thud, their boots a-patter down the path, hop, skip, just to keep up with her, not because of the senseless feeling in his heart, surely— And even though the scenery is modestly familiar, it opens ahead of him like a new world anew. Eyes crescent at earthberry and cream spreads, delighting all senses, but they aren't even given a moment to even think about mourning the hand slipping from theirs a second later when—!!

"!!!"

Thought stops. Eyes widen. A lost opportunity bubbles back to the front of their mind (a gloved hand in theirs, so easy to bring up to their own lips to touch knuckles, the thought fantastical and insane like the stories they'd've mimicked with that move), before dissipating into whatever smoke is pouring out of their overheating head. That same hand left bereft raises, incrementally, to touch the lingering warmth on their cheek, trying to capture it between their fingertips. Brown eyes flick over, staring for a long second, still incomprehending—

what does this mean?

Writ in her smile, the phantom kiss left on their cheek, the hearts stitched into the paws of the little feline she holds: what do you think it means?

They won't miss this again: The fear is swallowed in an instant, the heart deciding on hopeless insanity. A boy surges forward, swaddling a girl up in their cloak in a hug, holding her gentle with all their might; A boy bashfully buries a wobbly smile into her shoulder as opposed to their own collar, drinking deep of vanilla and citrus lingering from her bakescapades.

"Maria, I," The hope cracks their voice in half. They press on. "love it. Thank you."

...

Finally, soft, muffled.

"Can w'stay like this a lil'?"

[rafent]

Fingers delicately dot and frame the young princess's face as she sits on the steps of one of the small huts in, ah, 'Weasel territory.' The thought scrunches her face with a particularly amused little giggle, lingering in crescent shape upon her lips long after the sound has faded.

It is this smile with which she greets one of her teammates as they come and go, waving from her perch quite happily. Though, she does pause a moment after catching their eye -- and then breaks from smile to grin, fuller and brighter, turning the points of each index finger to press lightly against her cheekbones. Whether or not he notices the vague similarities in their current hairstyles, Maria certainly has.

"Your hair is really pretty!" Her laughter rings with sincerity -- she knows full well he wears it better. Cupping her hands together, she presses her chin into their cradle, though that does not stop her from waving with her pinkies. "Hee hee... See you around, teammate!"

Screaming seagulls. Roaring waves. Blistering sunlight.

Oh so blistering sunlight.

Gradlon though far hotter was still his kingdom two millennia lost to the past. Rafal couldn't recall the last aeon where he'd stepped foot into a place so scorching. So distinctly. . .summery. Grumbling and grousing, half the time spent roaming the outdoor precinct was done with a hand shaded over his eyes. The other half wondering if he ought to invest in a cap or a visor to ward off sunburn. Bleary of eye, he glanced up as a hut came within viewing distance. There his gaze shortly stayed.

The coltish shape seated on its steps amounted to a dark smudge, twisted and contorted by heat wave. Only closer inspection yielded that it was a giggling, smiling, all-too-happy girl. What she could possibly be so happy about too was beyond his understanding. She said something - he knew only because she mouthed the words. Something barely perceptible over the roar of seaside wind and wave. Along the lines of 'pretty', and 'see you', and 'teammate', little fingers waggling like the tails and heads of worms. One could surmise the display to be greeting, and if unsure, even think to request for clarity.

Unfortunately, Rafal could hardly be considered sociable. What strange human custom, he thought only, as idly as noting an interesting rock or uniquely shaped cloud, and passed his presumed teammate. He returned to his silent mantra in search of the correct dorm and the next hut:

Screaming seagulls. Roaring waves. Blistering sunlight.

Oh so blistering sunlight.

[fellpurpose]

[ Essar ] -- Naturally, Maria is enchanted by the appearance of a heretofore unseen game -- and, naturally, she hopes at once to play it! With a hand touching her chin, the little cleric casts her curious gaze about the ballroom and its fringes in search of someone who might be amenable to playing a round with her. And if it is someone she's yet to befriend? All the better!

That's when she sees him. His manner? Enthusiastic. His aura? Fantastic! Maria's hands clasp together beneath her chin, knowing at once that she must at least ask him to play!

"Excuse me!" She trots up to him, eyes shining. "Would you play a game of Essar with me? Please?" Her hand returns to her mouth, hiding a peal of laughter. "I've been wanting to try, and you look like fun to play with!"

he softens at her approach, the spark in her eye and sweet demeanor calling to mind his own chosen heroine. a warmth settles over odin, and his chest swells at the compliment, memories flooding back of innocent days spent giving chase to a giggling, fair-haired child of his own — a time filled with laughter, the patter of tiny feet, and the unbridled joy of simple games.

odin’s smile widens at the question, and with a theatrical flourish, he replies with a grand bow. "but of course! It would be my great pleasure, milady! for in YOU, i sense..." the mage pauses, his eyes widening in exaggerated surprise to allow for suspense. an audible gasp escapes his lips. "AH! a worthy opponent. i fear you'll prove yourself a magnificent rival, giving me a contest most fierce...HARK! there is but one way to resolve this—let us battle 'til the very end for the esteemed title of HYDRO SOVEREIGN!"

as the crowd around them murmurs in excitement, odin straightens and extends a hand towards her, his eyes twinkling with both challenge and camaraderie. "before we commence this grand duel, might i know the name of my illustrious challenger?"

[reddragonprincess]

"Wow!" Hands clasp together in absolute, unmitigated delight, tucked beneath her chin, rosy eyes set all a-sparkle. She has always known that her sister is wonderful and radiant, of course, but it is nonetheless a joy to see her shine off the battlefield. "Minerva, you look amazing today!"

Unpinning her brooch from her sash, she holds up her black feather, parted now from its two golden companions... achingly familiar, that, but still she smiles as she holds it up.

"Did you know? If you meet lots of people and trade-- decorations, this year!-- then they'll send you home with a treat! Oh, Sister, you'll trade with me, won't you? Please?" After all, though she keeps the heart of the wish to herself, she has long dreamed of sharing these festive, joyous celebrations with her siblings -- brother and sister both. The stamp cards and vines of yesteryear remain preciously held in her box of treasures; this memory, too, she will cherish.

The sound of her voice was unmistakable –soft, a bit chirpy and unbelievably strong. Minerva knew it was her and as she turned to face her, she was surprised to see her little sister in a long dress, actually making her seem older than she actually was and remarkably beautiful, but that was already known by the red-haired Macedon princess. She bowed her head, sketched a smile and she caressed Maria's cheek with the back of her index finger, catching the enthusiasm of her tiny body.

“You look wonderful, like you always do, my little one” she softened her tone, observing the brooch in her hands: the black feather, a very curious combination for her, but in some way, it actually fit her quite well. She listened to her request and with a murmured laugh, she gently unhook the string of pearls from her dress, inspecting it for a short moment, before turning her gaze to Maria.

“How could I say no to you?” she chuckled with a soft smirk upon her lips, handing over the brooch with care and placing a hand over hers. “Here, I’m sure you already met so many people from the monastery” she nodded, leaving her hand rest for a little longer, “Your deserved treat will come very soon!” she teased her with  mocking expression, noticing a familiar figure looming around the dance area.

“Have you seen Michalis too?”

[sereneshymn]

Oblivious to the psychic damage her old comrade turned competitor might take from a certain other Macedonian, Maria happily waves as she approaches the man, lemonade in hand.

“Sir Rafiel!” He was part of the faculty, wasn’t he? Or… wasn’t he? She turns the title over on her tongue, briefly contemplating forms of address before abandoning the thought altogether. What matters is that she recognizes him, and recognizes the color of his bandana.

“Hee hee… here, take this! It’s light and refreshing — it reminds me of you!” Smiling, she passes the drink into his hands. “And you’re on the… sheep team, aren’t you?” A finger raises to tap her own blue bandana, tied into a bow on her head. “We’re not teammates this time, but you and my brother are! He’s kind of grouchy, but he’s really strong! So…” Another laugh. “…good luck! I’m rooting for all of us!”

A little star twinkles in the corner of his mind, and before he even turns his face towards her fully, it is already adorned with a warm smile ready to greet her. Amidst this confusion born of an unfamiliar situation, few comforts offer him as much solace as the knowledge that he is not alone in it all.

"Little Maria," he greets, light laughter bubbling behind his words. "Please, just call me Rafiel. There is no need to be so formal with me - I'm just an infirmary helper. I'd like it if you could think of me as little more than a friend."

The drink she offers him is accepted with gratitude and a smile brighter still than it was a moment ago. "That does seem to be the case," he says. He still doesn't quite understand what is going on, so the words lack confidence behind them, but his expression remains calm and serene. "Your brother, you say? I will be glad to become acquainted with him. No worries about the character - I have some experience in this field." Well, that's what he says, anyway. The exactly nature of this experience he chooses not to go into.

Her laugh is joined by his, for friendship is one of life's greatest joys and treasures that he always wishes to partake in together with others. "Haha, I will do my best. Good luck to you and your team too, of course! I'll be cheering for you."

[renaisguy]

Perched on the steps leading into the hut that will be her temporary home, Maria perks up as another weasel makes their way over. She's greeted a couple of them already, but this one seems to be coming straight for the very same hut -- one of her new roommates, maybe?

"Hello!" She leans forward, bracing her palms against her chosen perch. "--you're a weasel too, aren't you? Hee hee!" The blue bandana marks him as such, at least, and she hops to her feet, waving as she hops onto the ground and out of his way. "My name's Maria! I think we're roommates!"

"Hello!" He waves back. "I'm Forde, nice to meet you." So this is his final roommate, huh? She's... younger than he expected. (By now he really should know better, this is a school trip after all).

"Or maybe I should say... it's weasel nice to meet you." Not the best pun in the world, but it's hard to come up with weasel puns at short notice. If he were on another team... it'd be stoatally different.

"I settled in earlier, took one of the lower bunks. Hope that's alright." He leans against the railing of the steps for a moment. "Lovely place, isn't it? I've already found three good nap spots!" He chuckles. "So if you ever want the room to yourself for a bit, just let me know, ok?"

[beholdenning]

{ hc + scrunkly

// they think it's very fascinating when human faces scrunch up in bouts of extreme emotion. her master would call it unsightly, perhaps, but she was made to mimic them regardless.

// sometimes he stands in front of the mirror in his room to scrunch his face up and attempt expressions. the chances it'll ever come to him as reactions are incredibly low, and he still needs considerable conscious effort to mimic emoting at all. it has a certain uncanny valley feeling to it, too, since there's no real feeling behind the action... it's an entire project to him at this point, basically.

[godofclosure]

From a distance, Maria sees someone she hadn't expected to see: Miss Embla, who had seemed to disdain most things light and bright and especially festive in the little time she had known her. Which made her presence here all the more curious, and especially worrying. What was Happyland so far if not a surfeit of light, bright, and festive?

So she circles around, returning a few minutes later with a simple flask of water. The heat and sunshine could be brutal, especially for those less accustomed to it.

"Hi, Miss Embla!" Maria smiles as she approaches, but keeps the exuberance of her voice to a gentle minimum, holding out the glass for the other to take. "It's pretty bright out here, huh? Here's some water, just in case."

The girl from the illusion… Maria, she believes it was? Strange, she can never seem to recall the name of mortals, nor does she ever care to, and yet… The sun must truly be getting to her.

Embla had of course noticed her amongst the crowd (as well as how she unfortunately wears a color different from her own this time, disappointingly), but she hadn’t expected she to be noticed. Or approached, for that matter. And to be given an offering no less, on such a thoughtful premise…

“Hmph. Do not worry yourself over me. I am fine.” Slightly-less-clawed hand takes the glass, only a slight hesitation in it, for once. This mortal doesn’t strike her as the type to poison such a thing as water. When was the last time she had water, anyway? Yesterday? A week ago? Centuries ago? Time is a blur.

“I should hope you have been… ‘hydrating’ as well. It would be inconvenient to your team if you were to pass out. Or worse.” It feels odd, advocating against ill will befalling her ‘enemies’. By all accounts, she should want them to pass out, or away. It would make winning easier, should their numbers thin. Still, she would prefer it happen to another, instead of her water source.

[aubins]

"Yuri!" The shape of their name lends itself too easily to a smile as Maria trots along the sands, both waving and laughing brightly as can be. Yet as her hand darts into her pockets and fishes, she comes to the dismaying realization that she has quite run out of gifts, snacks, and trinkets -- terrible, indeed.

"Oh, no..." She pauses, purses her lips, then frowns, though all of this is done without particular gravitas. "Hmm... I think I already ran out of treats. But I still have something for you! Here, hold out your hand!"

With her hand held in a fist, she waits, hoping they'll oblige her. Bring her hand over theirs, she opens her palm in splayed fingers and drops -- the point of her index finger, lightly tracing a flower on their hand.

"Hee hee... it's a promise! I know we're on different teams, but if you ever need me, just tell me, okay? I brought lots of medicine with me!" Rose red eyes glance toward the bandana denoting their team, a familiar, golden color she had just earlier tied into her brother's hair. It wouldn't be so bad, she thinks, if their team wins... Her hand retreats, catching a sparkling laugh.

"I'm still going to bring you something tasty later, though! Look forward to it, okay? Hee hee!"

“Maria.” And as the call of their name in her voice is so often accompanied by her smile and laughter, so is her name in theirs followed by a crease at the corner of their eyes, the faintest uptilt of their lip. A hand raises, waves and sends the yellow bandana tied around their wrist fluttering in the wind as lilacs dart to her own. They're not allies this time around, it seems. “Just my luck— I was about to go looking for you.”

“You don't owe me anything, you know.” If anything, their debts to her are the ones mounting. There's plenty of little trinkets and charms they must repay from over the years. But still they oblige, hand lowering from its wave to be held out, and the flower she traces there earns a faint laugh from the mockingbird.

Their other hand, which had been tucked behind their back thus far raises now to plop a flower crown onto her head, though the way it settles is a little lopsided. “Well, while we're on the topic— here. You're always giving me little gifts so I thought it's about time I returned the favor. I used to make them as a kid to keep my hands busy. Maybe it'll bring you good luck in the competition.” Someone ought to find fortune in flowers, when Yuri is so often used to the memory of them being bathed in blood.

Hands carefully reach over to straighten the crown atop her head, stepping back with a small smile once they're satisfied. “And I guess it's a promise too. I don't have any medicine with me, but I'm handy in plenty of other ways. If you need anything at all, just give me a shout. I'll be there.”

Because maybe the innocent wishes of a boy have been hidden in the petals of those flowers too. Be careful, Maria. Keep yourself safe.

But all Yuri voices with a pat to her shoulder in parting is, “I'll see you later, yeah?”

[ashenprofessor]

The next time she meanders into their hut, she finds someone else newly settled in. Like a light, Maria's expression brightens, a sizable bounce springing into her step as she trots over.

"Professor!" She pops onto her toes, clapping her hands together with delight. "You're a weasel, too? Hee hee! It looks like we're roommates!" With both Byleth and Edward on her team, and who knows how many future friends, the little princess can't help but feel that the Weasels' prospects are absolutely sunny.

Holding a finger to her lips, Maria grins, cutting her conspiratorial grin to halves.

"We should have a summer tea party while we're here! Oh, do you think they have any marshmallows? I heard you can toast them, and they get all puffy when you do!" Laughing, she pulls back again. "Oh, it's going to be so much fun! Don't you think?"

Byleth was lounging on their bed when the door opened. They sat up when they saw the familiar red hair of a certain Macedoneon princess entering. They hadn't realised they'd be sharing with her, their recent adventures into finding fairies popping into their mind. It had been a fun adventure in the wood which had even ended with some unexpected rewards.

"I am" Byleth agrees "Metaphorically of course" Though the image of Maria as a small red weasel was rather cute. "I've met Forde so far one of our other roommates. Seems like a nice guy, very polite. It's a good dorm we've got here"

A good team even, as they'd spotted their bestie Lincie and Hilda among those heading towards this cabin. Plus there were all the new allies to get to know.

"I'm sure we could find some. Building a bonfire on the beach would be the traditional way to do it. I recall that Jeralt got some for the troop one summer to celebrate a successful job." The melty sweetness of the gooey marshmallows had been heavenly. "I've heard they're even nicer andwiched between biscuits once melted"

[ulircursed]

Now that's someone she hasn't seen in a while! In milling closer to the center of population for a spell, Maria spies the man who had doggedly insisted she hate him on Gronder Field. It is a playful sort of defiance, then, that leads her to set down a half of a coconut with a loopy straw in it. Right beside him, as it were.

"They say coconut water is good for you! Have you tried it?" Hopping back a step or few like an inquisitive sparrow, Maria giggles and half-turns, torso twisting as she points to a distant gathering of people equipped with similar drinks.

"They'll take it back if you don't want to try it, okay? Hee hee!" And so she takes flight, eager not to overstay her welcome (if indeed she'd ever had one). "Bye-bye!"

Andrei truly cannot fathom why someone of her disposition would seek him out again, after their less than ideal first meeting. Surely, someone so relentlessly, almost stubbornly in good cheer does not lack for friends who are happy to see and spend time with her. Which made the fruit beverage and friendly chatter all the more baffling, when offered to him.

"I didn't ask—" But the defensive, barbed words are much less appropriate, now that they seem to be so far away from conflict, and really, it would merely be childish to hang onto battlefield banter long after the fight is over. Still, he falls silent, looking away with crossed arms instead of thanking her as she takes her leave, as cheerful and vivacious as she'd come.

When he is certain she'd gone, Andrei turns his gaze skeptically to the coconut, left beside him. To the straw, so illogically shaped as to almost be mocking. To the contents (is that not just slightly cloudy water?) within. He picks it up, inspecting it thoroughly.

Then he takes a sip.

...It has a refreshing, sweet aftertaste, like nothing he'd ever had before.

... ...It's good.

Hopefully out of the presence of any prying eyes, Andrei drains the contents of his undeserved gift, thoughts swirling a little off-kilter from the interaction.

Truly, he doesn't understand her at all.

[lycianlynx]

[Spaghetti and Meatball ] - A classic that's here to stay: a lovers’ portion of freshly-made spaghetti cooked in the monastery’s famous tomato sauce. The titular, singular meatball sits in the center, waiting for one lucky person to have their lover roll it to them with their nose as an offering.

And, well, wouldn't it be a waste not to share such perfectly yummy food? Maria can't seem to decide whether she wants to hum or giggle, settling for some bubbly amalgam of both as she kicks her feet beneath her chair. Even someone who flits from place to place like she does needs to rest a moment, and so she happily waits for the moment Chad decides to take a breather, too.

"...oh! Chad!" At once, she perks up, beaming as she gestures to her (their!) newly acquired snack. "Hee hee... do you want to share it with me? It looks really yummy, but it's a little bit too much for me to eat on my own."

(She is, of course, fully aware of the spaghetti mythos of Garreg Mach, just as she is aware of the fact that there's only one set of silverware on the table -- and, like the second set of silverware, she has no idea, of course. No, none at all.... hee hee.)

Twirling some pasta on the fork, she continues. "Have you been having fun so far?" She peeks at them, eyes crinkling at their corners, the tail end of the noodle wrapped neatly into a single bite. "Hee hee... it's nice to see everyone having so much fun. Oh, and-- Chad!" A drawn breath, a sparkle in her eye that shines overwhelmingly bright; for a moment she nearly forgets, the fork listing downward-- "My brother came back! --oh! Hee hee, here!"

--and then she holds it out to him, a beaming smile on her face, kind and yet in its depths a-glitter with a pure sort of mischief. There's enough from for him to pull away, of course, but there is a part of Maria, rosy-cheeked, that looks forward to his reaction -- his shiny eyes, his cute expression, the way he might try to turtle into a cape that isn't there-- will he?

"Try a bite!"

Hummingbird, butterfly. Maria isn't the only one who flits to and fro, themself flicking back at forth, indeed, like the tip of a cat's tail; Though with her stationary for a while, it's easy to find themself gravitating towards her to rest like a ship to port. The huge portion of spaghetti doesn't escape their notice (how could it, really), inviting a raised eyebrow.

"There you are," Chad starts, before pausing for a warm, fuzzy-feeling smile. Share? Well, it looks too big for himself, too, to be honest, moreso even with the snacks he'd been periodically sneaking. Obviously, the answer is: "Yeah, that sounds good."

Oblivious as they may be to the reality of the spaghetti mythos, though, (probably because it sounds stupid enough that it must be some kind of joke), they aren't of the single set of silverware. About to quickly excuse themself to go pick up a second pair, they're stopped in their tracks when she begins to twirl her fork into the spaghetti.

Their focus shorts to that singular point of anticipation. Wait. Is she really going to feed them? She's surely going to hand them the fork, right? No? Okay. This is happening. Okay?

Oh God they are not strong enough for this.

A long second passes as he stares at the extended fork, wide-eyed and still not quite processing anything beyond disbelief, one hand slowly raising as if trying to offer a hiding place in place of his cloak— Before brown flicks to meet lovely hopeful reds, their own eyes shining deer-in-carriage-path, face at this point pretty much scarlet and a little slack-jawed.

What the hell are they supposed to do here, say no?! They can't do that!!!

Okay, so now what? Don't make it weird. Don't make it weird!

They lean in too slow to not make it weird. With that, they also take the offered bite with a chomp— Their teeth hit the metal a little too hard, and then they pull away a little too fast, hurriedly wiping their mouth with the bare bit of palm their gloves offer. They feel like a spoiled, hand-fed wyvern. They don't mind being a spoiled, hand-fed wyvern.

That's actually worse.

"Pfhgood," they offer as (panicked) feedback to move on from the thought, mouth still full, officially making it weird. O Elimine, please eject him from this mortal plane immediately.

Elimine doesn't reply. So instead, they reach for the spoon left unattended to roll the singular meatball to Maria's side of the plate, desperately avoiding eye contact.

(They almost miss the news about her brother in the process. That's to remember and freak out over another time.)

[rafent]

In their trek back from the eastern island, Maria hastens her steps, struggling slightly as she attempts to catch up to a certain sunburnt someone.

"Rafal!" The little sister in her nearly moves to tug at his shirt, but she thinks better of it in the same breath. Instead she only trots alongside him, her expression brightening, grin widening, should he deign to favor her with his attention. "Could I ask you something real quick?"

Her chin tilts upward by a hair as rosy-hued eyes scan his face for any sign of an angry flush to his skin. Leaning over slightly, she cups a hand to her mouth, a secret for the two of them.

"Are you feeling alright?" She whispers, blinking at him with concern. "You looked a little woozy when I saw you before the game. Hee hee... if you drink some extra water, I'll share some of my candy with you when we get back, okay?"

Thudding heel and exerting breath arrived at the fore of his attention, belonging to an even smaller and weaker human than the average. Maria, provided his realization, and curiously not with great distaste. For her, powerful strides curtailed to a manageable pace; not for his consideration toward shorter legs, of course, but the mystery to be unearthed of their owner's presence. Ally the girl was, unimaginably naive she was also. Much too like a kindly Divine One known once before, and known again now.

"What is it." Cynical per norm, friendly never. Question, she sought to ask, and Rafal could imagine a dozen on his own, thoroughly aligned with topics of their defeat, disappointed reflection over the outcome, and even favor. Not a single one of those considerations encompassed well-meaning inquiry over his condition.

Exasperation released on a quiet sigh, her choice somehow expected but unbelievable all the same: "So you remembered? Observant, I shall say—in addition to guileless. It was not I who was first to fall among our party, and unlike yourself, I do not suffer from fallible human weaknesses either. In that way, it is your own well being that you should concern yourself with."

With that counsel his advance resumed, taken to seeming normalcy and then some; long, forward steps without hesitation, self-assured tone with commanding resonance; only an air of nonchalance remotely out of sorts. Very important reminder that he would not forget the very important offer made.

". . .As for your candy. Whether it is worthy, I shall be the judge of that.

[stalwaria]

Her chat with Alfred had left her in a bright mood. Maria hums as she leafs (hee hee!) through the blooms before her, straying from the orange blooms but picking all the flowers that look the prettiest beside them. That was what he'd told her, after all: she would likely love to meet Etie, who has orange hair and green eyes. In time she weaves another crown of flowers, and carries it gently in her search.

As far as she can tell, there's only one girl here with orange hair. "Hello!" Maria calls out, wiggling the fingers not occupied with holding her greeting-gift in lieu of a greeting-wave. And -- yes! Green eyes!

"Are you Etie?" Her head tilts slightly to one side, her smile inquisitive but warm. "Hee hee... it's nice to meet you! My name is Maria -- my friend Alfred was telling me about you! I gave him some flowers, and he said I'd probably like to meet you. So I wanted to say hi!" Holding out the flower crown, she beams. "Here -- I made one for you, too! It's really nice to meet you!"

The girl that approaches her is unfamiliar. But with a longer glance and bit of memory, Etie thinks she can recall seeing her amongst the other faces in her classes shared with the Lions. But classmate or no, she's always happy to welcome a friendly face.

Especially one bearing gifts.

"Yes, that's me. You're a friend of Prince Alfred's, then?" Made sense. Alfred was great at making friends. The man could charm a broomstick, if he wanted to. "Huh. He said that, did he...?" What was this, some sort of attempt at... friendship matchmaking? "Well, he'd be right about that. I love flowers, and I LOVE new friends. It's wonderful to meet you, Maria."

There's something calming in the flower crown Maria offers her, Etie smiling as she accepts the gift. Flowers were the most beautiful and fondest form of expression—to receive a gift so lovely, purely out of the kindness of a stranger's heart, was something so touching and precious.

"Thank you. These are gorgeous! And the craftsmanship? Immaculate." She smiles, "If you don't mind, could you tell me where you found these? I'd love to pick a few of my own. These rooms set out for us are nice and all, but I think they could do with a bit more color, don't you?"

[hresvelged]

In the calm before the inevitable storm, one red-headed girl sips from a glass until she spies a girl clad in red. Recognition is palpable; her posture straightens from its easy rest, chin lifted from its perch on the back of her hands, a straw with loops (Loops! Plural!) slipping from her lips as she grins. And, most obviously of all, she waves at her friend with fingers splayed.

"Edelgard," she calls, "Over here!" --over here, she says, yet the little princess slips from her seat with drink in hand to meet her. As the distance between them shrinks, she holds up her glass for the other to see. The drink itself is a pastel orange, a couple small slices of the fruit sitting on top. Like as not they were neatly set at first, though they have slowly begun to sink.

"They said it was orange... creamsicle? It's really yummy! You can try some of mine if you want!" Head tipping to the side, she giggles playfully. "If you want, we can even find one of these loopy straws -- look! Hee hee!"

Edelgard's solace is the crisp air, washing away her thoughts as she hears the sound of her name calling out to her. The kind familiarity of Maria meets her after only a few steps of her own, greeting her in kind with an up-wave of her right palm.

She can't help and loosen the tightly wound demeanor she tends to don— That, for but a moment, she can simply enjoy time with a friend as she carries a colorful drink on her person. "Orange creamsicle.. That does sound delightful."

Her tensed shoulders drop as she eyes the beverage from the lively display itself to the accompanying fruits only inches away. "Thank you, Maria. You found me at an excellent time. I would be happy to give it a try." Edelgard moves a finger towards the middle of the straw and light taps it, watching as it swirls gracefully within the cup.

A laugh escapes her pale lips as she moves the hand nearest her mouth to hide away her giggle. "I can't say I've ever used a.. loopy straw, was it? It certainly is befitting of its name." The resting smile looks past Maria, albeit brief, in wonderance of where she acquired it from. "Does it come in different colors? If so, I'll have to choose carefully."