#serraic

[ostianshadow]

She doesn’t believe it, at first. Her eyes are playing tricks on her, surely — there’s no other explanation, she doesn’t think. So she stares, face concentrated, trying to coax out the real image of whatever’s there. But… no. Spiked blond hair, cape against his shoulders... It’s... totally him. He’s really there. It’s really…!

“Matthew!” Her voice is high-pitched, sing-song-y in excitement — Serra’s waving excitedly to flag him down, dancing to his side.

Poor Matthew, it only takes her moments before she’s by his side. “It’s you, isn’t it? Omigosh, I can’t believe this! It’s really you! You’re here, too! What’re you doing here?!”

And there it is.

He smiles, benign, almost touched that she's so thrilled to see him - although he hopes it isn't because she yet has plans to make a vassal out of him, or whatever saintsforsaken idea she'd brought up before.

Really, was only a matter of time before they ran into each other. Garreg Mach really wasn't that big even in spite of its imposing stature.

"It's really, really me, yup! Your good pal Matthew, in the flesh."

She still has way more energy than he knows what to do with. More, he theorizes, than he'll ever know what to do with.

That said... Though they have their differences...

"... It's good to see you, Serra. You've been keeping well, yes?"

His smile, for once, is genuine.

"Our little marquess not been causin' ya too much trouble, I hope?"

#bless #thank u serena #<3 #serraic

[fangedjustice]

Several things amiss

@serraic [ Sword +1 Mission ]

These missions were a bit unusual compared to what he'd done in the past, but Lloyd wasn't about to complain about it. If it served a good purpose, he would help. And if it could be solved without spilling blood...well, that would be a welcome change, too.

The student that was accompanying him on this particular task was...energetic, to say the least. Though he wasn't exceptionally talkative himself, responding to some things as they moved towards their destination, she seemed more than willing to fill in the otherwise dead air with her own chatter.

She was a bit much to take in all at once, but she was young and owed her exuberance. Besides, as a healer, he was sure she would be a reassuring sight to the people who were concerned about these ruins. Such things were often calming to those with a more superstitious outlook.

"Well, I'll be grateful to have someone as talented in the healing arts as yourself with me," Lloyd eventually managed to break in, "I don't make a habit of getting injured where it can be avoided, but you never know how a job is going to turn out. If we run into anything unexpected, I'll make sure you get back to the monastery safe."

#serraic #[ Serra Int: 1 ] #[ *vibrates* ]

[cadenzardea]

sforzando

quick starter for @serraic

The resonant sound of bells echo off of the polished stone of the cathedral interior, accompanied by the soft clack of footsteps as Reyson approaches his potential student. A sheaf of papers is held in one hand, a mixture of handwritten script and musical notation visible where they bow back across his fingers. The other clutches a wooden flute. "Ah. There you are. Serra, was it?" He dips his head in greeting, wings spreading open behind him. His eyes flick back to the papers. Mezzo-soprano. Contralto. Reyson had the honor of learning the music of the Earth itself, communing with the world in the ancient tongue and melodies of the goddess—but the beorc's way of organizing and notating song is still fairly new to him. He studied earnestly in his time here, and it is finally time to start putting this new knowledge into practice. "How much experience do you have with singing? Have you ever been assigned a voice type?"

#[ ic ] #t: sforzando #serraic

[heartoftheloathsome]

flamboyant vs. frightening

@serraic​​

Hubert feels something akin to acid sizzle the back of his throat. This couldn’t possibly be her, could it? He slips behind a pillar a safe distance away, eyes his target—feels the urge to retch. But, no—the description he had been given matches this girl far too perfectly. 

He enumerates in his head precisely what he observes: swinging pink pigtails; bubbly and cordial demeanor; obnoxious and grating voice. The one who assigned Hubert—of all people—this task must certainly have a fierce, deep-seated grudge against him. Or perhaps, even worse, a death wish. Because there is no genre of individual he despises more than the one he sees before him. 

His assignment had been to find this new Blue Lions student—Serra is her name—and take her on a little excursion to the woods in search of medicinal herbs and tea leaves. A dreary, seemingly menial task that is, frankly, beneath someone like Hubert. But alas, the true purpose of the undertaking is most likely somewhere along the lines of ‘building community’ and ‘making friends.’ He is a new student, after all—as is Serra. 

But by the Goddess, is that really necessary?

This miniature reconnaissance had at the very least proven effective. Now that the threat had been identified, all that’s left is to craft a quick-witted stratagem consisting of Hubert doing this herb-gathering on his own—definitively not interacting with Serra through any means possible—and telling a harmless little lie to his superior. 

Yes, that shall suffice. Hubert should waste no time proceeding with this operation, he thinks as he moves to slip from one pillar’s shadow to another. But, as soon as he turns around—

Hubert audibly gasps at the sight of vivid pink pigtails and a cheeky, smiling face, staring right at him. 

#ic #thread ; flamboyant vs. frightening #support ; serra #serraic #{ hubert: i dont need friends they disappoint me }

[enarmor]

//continued from here @serraic

That’s odd. People don’t normally ask Sain to say more. 

He stops to finally catch his breath, straightening that hunched-over back and doing away with all the gasping and heaving. “Serra...?” he asks, with the perplexed tilt of his head, “Last we spoke, you said I was disgusting. I believed you would not have the ears to hear any of my praise.” 

Stepping back, he allows a finger to fall onto his chin. Eyes tilt up, then drop down--scanning the Ostian from head to toe. He shrugs. “If my fair lady desires it so, then praise her I shall! While in my company, you shall receive the worship you deserve!”

He clears his throat. Like it’s a performance. 

“In all our time spent apart, your beauty has yet to wane,” he nods as if to affirm himself, believing this to be what she wishes to hear from him, “And your sense of style, how it blossoms further. Why, Lady Serra, I believe you’ve somehow managed to grow even more magnificent! More perfect than perfect!!” 

For a moment, a flicker of something shines through in his eyes, but it’s quashed when he thinks further. His last query was at the front of his mind, yes, but with it now out of the way, a new idea has taken root. Sain’s index taps his cheek. He’s going right back to trying to get what he wants out of her.

“Ah, but one other thing. About what you said last time,” how Lyn and Hector fighting all the time meant they were into each other, “Kent and I have had our fair share of squabbles, don’t you think? Yet he doesn’t hold affection for me... Do you truly believe being at odds is a sign of love?”

#IC #ASKBOX #SERRAIC #//big mistake letting me continue #//i make no apologies this is what you signed up for

[ordelion]

We do a Little Brewing - Lysi & Serra

Lysithea’s brewing class was probably her least favorite class as far as classes that were based somewhat on magics. It wasn’t for a lack of good curriculum or reason to learn, as she knew the value of each remedy or booster shot or so forth that she learned- as often as not, various doctors had used it on her in the past to varying degrees of effectiveness. It wasn’t for the smell of the class, although that did disturb her, and it wasn’t the teacher, although he was too quiet for her personal preference. Rather, it was the group projects. FORCED group projects, with whoever was next to her. The seating was chosen for each student beforehand, but so far that was a very loose rule- apparently she was the only one who obeyed it. She’d worked with a variety of students, mostly less intelligent than herself but a few moreso, yet consistently all of them were insufferable, unproductive, or most often both at the same time. Only by doing more work than if she was alone could she survive. It hadn’t bothered her too much at first, but when every project, every class period, was with a group, she begun to despise that classroom and all within it. More than once she had snapped, yelling at her project partner for their incompetence and getting a firm talking-to from the teachers for it. That garnered her a reputation among her classmates- ‘she’s more venomous than the poisons we’re trying to cure‘, a few would whisper behind her shoulder. One period, she found herself partnered with her actual, *official* seating partner. Serra. The girl wasn’t someone she had seen before, so it was a refreshing change of pace from the usual buffoonish faces she’d had to contend with in the past. But when the teacher announced the semester project was going to be a two-person assignment on creating a collaborative invisibility potion, that excitement drained away. She sighed and rocked her head in her hands as the rest of the class slowly began to filter into their research stations. “By the Goddess, why must we have so many? We’ve had seven group projects this month alone.” She hissed, mostly to herself. She turned over to her partner, a defeated sort of look buried in her pink irises, and muttered something that could barely be called a joke for how dry it was. “So, stranger girl, what bright ideas might you have?” @serraic

#ordelion #serraic #thread name we do a little brewing

[justicefanged]

Honor Is Stored In The Tail

You notice things you would never have picked out before. Seeing the world from down here, you occasionally find odd tokens in the grass, in pots, in other such hidden places. Trouble is, they appear to be but half of whatever treasure you’ve found. Not to worry! One of the fairies captured in a recent mission is all too happy to take them off your hands, promising good luck and miracles for every complete match. Who knows if the ‘good luck’ is real, but there does seem to have been one small side effect after the fact: you’ve learned, quite incidentally, that you can now speak with mice! And hoo boy, do they have a lot to say: they humbly request your help, O strange near-hairless rodents, in order to defeat the threat of other mice invading their (your) territory. Teach them, they plead! Teach them to fight! Well, all right then. Surely nothing untoward will come of you showing one or two of them how to swing a stick… [ Grants Any Skill +1 ]

@serraic

There really was something bewildering about coming face to...snoot? with a mouse that was roughly the same size as you. Linus had never paid much attention to the little creatures when he was at his regular size, outside of catching them every now and then when he was a boy -- despite warnings not to, but really, he only got bit sometimes. But this! This was...not a catchable mouse. Unless they wrestled. Maybe then. Yeah, he felt pretty confident he could wrestle this mouse and win--

“Are you sure we can trust the tailless ones with this?” One of the mice chitters, cleaning its whiskers in a somewhat nervous fashion as it speaks. There is a soft ripple of murmurs at this from the others, big, black eyes darting about and round ears on a swivel.

Oh, right. They talk. Of course they talk, why wouldn’t they talk? Everything else was going batshit, why not this?

“We do not have a choice, brother. The pale furs are getting bolder in their advances, and if we do not push them back now, we will lose our home!” 

Jeez, these mice spoke stuffy for...well, mice. But, if they picked it up from the people at the academy, that did sorta make sense...

“Hey--” Linus tried to break into the conversation, as they were very clearly talking about him, but they just kept talking over him and themselves.

“We don’t even know how smart they are, or how capable--” “My babies are so frightened, how will more fighting help--!” “We need to broker peace!” “No, we need to make a stand!”

Growling, Linus picked up a rock -- which was probably more of a pebble, but size was weird right now, so it was a pretty decent sized rock to him -- and chucked it into the gaggle of mice with an irritated huff. The rodents scrambled in all directions before grouping back up, noses twitching and eyes wide. “Would ya shut the hell up for a second!” he barked out, giving them a seething glare as one of the mice fluffed up in outrage at his interruption, tail curling about its paws as it remained silent at the look tossed its way. “What. Exactly. Do ya need from me?” he bit out.

The mice blinked, more twitchy noses, glances shared between the group, before one of them stepped forward with a dignified ahem. “Y-Yes, well...what we need is...someone to teach us how to fight off the invaders trying to take over our home. Many of us have younglings, and to be driven out of our ancestral home would be a dishonor we could not bear...Why, we would have to lose our tails, if such a thing were to happen!”

“Teach us to fight! With those thorns you use!” Another rodent piped up, young sounding and perhaps a little too eager. “We will learn fast! We promise! We even have a healer to our cause already!”

A healer...?

The group of mice split down the middle, one with darker, almost black fur padding forward with a gallant gait, escorting-- Wait a minute, was the a girl? A human girl?

“Well fuck, guess we’re in the same boat, huh, sister?” Linus snorted in disbelief, almost laughing at the absurdity of it all as the equally as shrunk student was brought to the front of the group.

#serraic #[this is so long & rambly but i got caught up in the mouse-ness of it all]

[fabledoath]

Un-stable Duty

Starter for @serraic

It only started with a friendly gesture. Ashe wasn't the most durable in combat, to be precise, and as someone relying on archery, he shouldn't be getting hit much at all if the strategy was sound, but it was inevitable, at times.

That's where healers step in! And this might be obvious, but Ashe was very thankful for them. So, he was always sure to offer them a helping hand outside of missions, too. Granted, they were all just doing their part, but still... it doesn't hurt to show a bit of gratitude, does it? ... Does it?

The following week, Serra would cash in her favor. And that's how Ashe ended up with a stack of hay taller than him in his arms, right behind the cleric who was carrying none. Was Ashe bothered by that? Not much. Did he have concerns? At least a few. Which he would voice with a slightly strained voice.

"Serra, I'm still not sure this is a good idea. I get wanting to finish up in one trip, really, and it's not too much weight... But it's hard to keep balance, and... I can't really see anything like this."

#ic #serraic #thread: un-stable duty

[peerlessscowl]

"Blood Orange" She's So Pretentious

The Ethereal Ball is nigh! The planning committee is hard at work preparing for the second biggest event of the year and asks for volunteers to help make it happen! There’s plenty that needs to be done, from picking out the menu to securing the supplies you need for the dance cards.

(starter for @serraic)

In spite of his proclivity for reminding himself that this was purely a mission, Raven found himself adjusting easily to life in the monastery. As a result, he ended up being called upon as any able-bodied young man would in such an environment: the occasional heavy lifting, gophering and fetch tasks. Regardless of how he felt about whatever the end goal was, Raven was able to compartmentalize, brushing it off as all part of the mission, means to an end.

And so he found himself carrying boxes - heavy, filled with paper items that he believed were menus and dance cards - to the reception hall where a member of the planning committee was supposed to be awaiting their arrival. Raven was not a fan of balls - they were loud, they were bright, and they were packed with people who expected small talk or worse, dancing - but when the young lady in his class had asked for his help, tugging at the box, he could not help but feel compelled to put himself to good use.

The reception hall, as well as other spots about the monastery, buzzed with activity, and Raven had to weave through throngs of bustling monks and students alike who were helping with ball preparations, keeping an eye out for the member of the committee. He had been told that he would know her when he saw her, and sure enough he saw the head of bobbing pink pigtails barking out orders, and he knew he had his girl.

"Here," he announced himself, shifting the weight of the boxes - one against his hip, the other propped on his shoulder. "I'm here to deliver these. Where do you want them?"

#in character #thread: “blood orange” she's so pretentious #interaction: serraic #let me know if you need more to go on! #so excited for this

[cleversteel]

Pokemon Gen 7 || Team 12 Bronze Round

Colm had had a lot of dreams, but none of them were quite like this.

Normally, they’d be of something familiar. Perhaps it was Lark, from when he was a child, maybe an important memory, where he learned the hard way how not to steal. They were small. They were short. They were finite.

The coliseum is huge, taking up his whole vision and packed to the brim with people. His ears are filled too with their shouts and cheers, but — don’t get him wrong, Colm loves a good crowd — it sort of sounded like they didn’t want him to live.

His eyes dart about quickly — aside from himself, there are five others, four of them he’d at least seen in passing (either at the Academy or once he’d arrived in Rusalka), but the fifth?

It shone as bright as the sun, suspended in mid-air such that it was close enough to reach but far enough to have to be wary of arrows. It had scales that sparkled every color and a beak — a beak, of all things — and it was huge.

Colm had no clue what was going on, but that was a bad guy if he ever saw one.

This was who he was fighting.

He spins around the armorslayer in his hands, glad to at least have a familiar weapon. He also has a book in his other hand (something about ‘divas’ and ‘love songs’? ok), but he chooses to stash that away in the otherwise empty void that he keeps all of his long-term borrowed items in. (To whoever took them all: not cool.)

“I’ve got this!” the boy shouts, stepping quickly to close the distance. Armorslayer in hand he decides to make the most lethal strike he can against... whatever this thing is.

COLM attacks TWIN SOUL using ARMORSLAYER with SUNDER. (CRIT!)

(3 ATK - 2 DEF = 1 DMG)

TWIN SOUL HP: 9/10

It has strangely thick... skin, or whatever. Even with everything Colm put into it, he barely does all that much damage. It stares back with fiery eyes before countering his attack.

TWIN SOUL attacks COLM using SHARP BEAK. (d20: 11 - 2 = 9. HIT!)

(1.5 ATK - 0 DEF = 1.5 DMG)

COLM HP: 8.5/10

And it bites like a beast. Whatever this thing is, it clearly shouldn’t be taken lightly.

“Watch out for the beak! It is not pleasant to get bitten by!”

@delicatevalentine @virtuoustyrfing @serraic @encursed

#[‘you won’t regret taking me on!’] (starters) #[thread: 'pokemon gen 7'] (team 12 bronze round) #TOAArena2022Winter #[support: hilda] #[support: seliph] #[support: serra] #[support: veronica] #[ delicatevalentine ] #[ virtuoustyrfing ] #[ serraic ] #[ encursed ]

[delicatevalentine]

artistic license has gone too far » team 12 steel round

Not again.

Hilda had just been opening her mouth to thank one of her blue-haired teammates -- she was about 60% certain it was the one called Colm -- for healing her, when her teammates and the metallic monsters faded away. The machines had still been active, but... Had they passed whatever test they’d been given? They must have, because when her vision came back into focus, a different but equally horrifying scene was upon them. 

Four giant frames formed a wall around a humanoid figure in the centre, who she couldn’t quite make out from above. One of the portraits that she could see from her position depicted a goat, the other a sword; she imagined the other two would display equivalently random images. As she watched, two opposite frames glowed almost imperceptibly. She didn’t want to know what that meant.

[ Portrait of the Goat uses Joy on Grant Virtuoso — +1 Resistance ] [ Portrait of the Hanged Man uses Sorrow on Portrait of the Hanged Man — +1 Defence ]

The next thing that she noticed was that, once again, she felt stronger. Her axe and mount had transformed, both sleeker and more deadly-looking than before. Looking around, her allies had undergone visible physical changes as well. 

[ Hilda regenerates 1HP from Renewal ] [ Hilda HP:  9 → 10 ]

Colm -- who was now armed with a bow -- stood closest to the front enemy: the goat portrait. After he had so generously used the last seconds of consciousness last round to heal her, she felt that she ought to repay the favour. She hated being indebted to people. Besides, she wasn’t feeling too intimidated by a picture frame. 

[ Hilda attacks Portrait of the Goat using Brave Axe. Roll: 15 — Hit! -3.5HP ] [ Hilda attacks Portrait of the Goat again. Roll: 12 — Hit! -3.5HP ] [ Portrait of the Goat HP: 10 → 3 ]

Her new weapon made her feel powerful enough to strike twice, cutting two neat slices into the goat likeness. The resistance was greater than she might have expected from an ordinary portrait, but that was probably to be expected under the circumstances. 

[ Portrait of the Goat counterattacks using Halahala. Roll: 4  — Miss! ]

Its abnormality was further proven when it retaliated. A blast of light fired from the centre, aimed straight at her, but fortunately, her wyvern had been vigilant enough to soar up out of harm’s way.

@cleversteel @virtuoustyrfing @serraic @encursed

#toaarena2022winter #t:artistic license has gone too far #s:colm #s:seliph #s:serra #s:veronica

[braveryinblue]

dw bout it

[from an ask-- @serraic ]]

“Hector!”

This is not the sing-song that usually follows Serra — it is a shrill, worried, sort of frantic call. ... Alright, fine, perhaps a shrill voice is also a bit reminiscent of her, but... one can dream, can’t they?

And that’s exactly the problem she’s come to him with today. “I had a dream, the other night. A dream of a strange coliseum, and people — people I didn’t know, standing with me. And when I woke, I saw one of them in real life, and he— he recognized me too! From the dream, and all! He had the same dream as me! And— and I’ve also seen Lloyd! Lloyd Reed, the man who almost killed Eliwood that one time!” Well, that doesn’t narrow it down… “The Black Fang one!” That doesn’t narrow it down, either. “Nino’s brother, okay! Wasn’t he dead? And the person I met in my dream — he died in the dream, too, but he was alive in real life! Do you— do— do you know what’s happening!!!”

Saint's tits, not now, Serra.

"A dream, you say," Hector answered, affecting a stolid demeanour despite his already frayed nerves. It wasn't her fault he was on edge, not really... But the pitch of her voice wasn't exactly, uh, helping, either-

"Wait, I dreamt of a coliseum too-"

On she went in her animated way (some part of Hector he'd never admit to was maybe fond of it, somehow), heedless of his interjection for the now. And so he sat (mostly) listening, all the while back to sharpening one of his many blades. A calming ritual, that. The Wolf Beil had been today's choice. A trusted companion of old...

Hector froze.

If Serra had led with 'Nino's brother, okay!' well, that wouldn't have narrowed it down either. Lloyd Reed though. Hmn. That guy.

"Uh huh..." If she'd been expecting him to blow up, she'd shown up a bit late for that. Instead, Serra was met with a Hector wearing a strange mix of gruff resignation and unnervingly quiet, stewing irritation. "Yeah. Seen that guy 'round."

Unfortunately.

"I thought he was dead, too.” He snorted. “Guess he got better.”

Wouldn’t be the strangest thing he’d witnessed, at this point.

But if Hector had thought himself over the fact that a bloody member of the bloody Black Fang was here, leisurely strolling the academy’s halls, he was deluding himself. He’d gripped his whetstone a little too strongly, a little too tightly, and-

“Augh, shit-!”

Hand slipped. Wolf Beil was sharp, all right. Always did have a bite to it. “Ugh. Damn it--”

Setting the weapon down, he reached for a cloth nearby.

“Kent and I died too, in a dream like the one you had. We’re fine though, as you can see.” Hector, in fact, had succumbed more than once. How far the mighty could fall... Tsk.

He grinned - and then winced. Ow. “Do you think that counts as Armads’ curse being lifted?”

#serra mini o2 #oogh i meandered #thanks for the ask :buzzes: #arena was a wild time huh... #sorry serra fodlan is just Like That

[fangedjustice]

Singed Tears

@serraic x

He really wasn't even sure that she'd accept his offering, but the girl -- lines of tears tracking through the glitter on her face, mouth pouting -- didn't much seem to care that it was him. She stabbed the treat like it was the singular cause of her woes.

It was not, but alas, a sacrifice must be made in the name of venting.

Lloyd did his level best to keep up with what Serra was going on about; nodding along at first because he could understand the frustration and upset of having hard work ruined, and then tapering off into slightly dumbfounded stillness as the girl tried to recruit him.

He chuckled a little, muffling it slightly behind his fist because the girl was still in a bit of a state and he wasn't making light of that. Just...she thought he could cry on cue? Did he look the sort, or was she grasping at straws?

"I'm not much of an actor, I'm afraid," Lloyd eventually replied, amusement still clinging to his words, "So if it's tears you need, I think you'd best keep searching. However, if you truly think it important to do so, I'll go with you." He wasn't sure it would get her the result she wanted, as he was sure no one had forced her to make a jump, but he was content to play support.

"I'm curious, is this not something they do in Lycia? You seem like you were...unprepared for the possible results..."

#serraic #[ Serra Int: 2 ] #toamidsommar2022 #[i have no idea how this is gonna look cause mobile but ey] #[also genuinely unsure if i can do a title on mobile so 8/]

[arcaediaen]

There is not much to do in the Monastery, with so many people gone.

       Caeda finds herself spending more and more time outside of Garreg Mach with each passing day, passing the lonely hours gliding over the treetops of the Sealed Forests atop Deimos, taking in the wide expanse of blue sky overhead the stretch of rich green below. Fódlan grows unfamiliar and forgein without those she calls home to keep her company. Perhaps it is for this very reason so many of her hours are spent with Deimos, part sentimentality and part to escape the dull Monastery grounds.

      Her routine of taking to the skies is abruptly interrupted, however, by fall — a steep drop from Deimos’s saddle, through the trees, and onto the forest floor. It knocks the wind out of her, and for a moment all she does is lie there, cheek pressed to the wet earth with her head ringing as she tries to process what had just happened. 

Eventually, Caeda hauls herself to her feet and staggers back to the Monastery. Had Deimos found his way back to the stables? Unfortunately, she is no state to look…

      There is only one person in the infirmary when she arrives — a young woman with pink hair done up in two ponytails. Caeda glances around the room, with all its empty cots and dust-covered surfaces. 

      “Pardon me, but are you a healer? I am in need of some salves… and perhaps a heal.”

@serraic

#〞 ♡ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐀 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐊𝐘 › IN CHARACTER. ╰ #〞 ♡ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 › SERRA. ╰ #( here we are... ) #( sawry for the wait !!! )

[aimlessarchery]

🌈- A memory about when they first fell in love

(also asked by @serraic)

The "one true love" thing isn't for Python. He doesn't have a particular moment seared into his memory where the clouds parted and rainbows appeared and he suddenly realized he wants to be with his best friend in sickness and in health, 'til death do they part, yadda yadda. What he did have were several moments, over and over, that cemented Forsyth's place in his life. Sneaking away—Forsyth from the study and Python from the woodshop—to go down to the creek in the forest and splash about in the water to keep the heat of Avistym and the pressure from both of their families at bay. His foot slipping on a slick rock on the way back to shore and Forsyth catching him with his whole body, which only led to them both tumbling into the muck all tangled up together. Laughing and smearing mud across Forsyth's face just to watch his cheeks get all red with indignation underneath. Hands grasping his fingers in a grip to rival a bench holdfast as Forsyth proclaims (for the thousandth time already, surely) that he will become a knight. It differs from the previous nine hundred and ninety-nine times in a few ways: the bag slung across Forsyth's body that carries most of his belongings, the roughshod lance strapped to his back atop it, the fiery determination in his eyes burning with an spark of desperation that lights the dry tinder lodged up in the the hollow space in Python's chest where his own hopes and dreams might sit if he had any. A heavy weight dipping into the side of his cot the night after their first true battle; those same hands reaching for him in the dark. Forsyth pressing himself up against Python's back, face buried in his shoulder blades, and holding onto him like he might slip away. Python's hands finding one of the ones gripping at his shirt and clasping his fingers over it in silence. Running his thumb over the rough, blistered beginnings of spear calluses and resolving to tend to the bright beacon fire that burns inside of the man beside him so he might keep leeching off that warmth.

#[ ask ] #[ headcanon ] #[ drabble ]

[theofficersacademy]

Activity Check: July

We’ve conducted the activity check for July!

If your muse is both:

Not listed below

Has made the activity requirement for this month (3 IC posts, regardless of any exemption status)

you may claim your activity skill point! Simply add it to your Total Skill Points on your stats and allocate it wherever you please. If you have reached a new letter rank and would like to claim a new ability, please message the Masterlist.

Warned:

Nils @wanderingsstar

Sophia @nabataprophet​

Alear (M) @alyration

Freyja @foreversnightmare

Booted:

Finn @lanceofleonster

Serra @serraic​

Takumi @wndbrn

- the House Leaders

#toa activity