hycanitho

[hycanitho]

Just as quickly as they rise, her hopes tumble right back down to the cold earth.

Her heart swells as she watches her remaining teammates come back to their senses, a newfound determination coming over them as they resolved to fight even harder. Hilda gets a clean shot on the cervid beast, and Clair crows in admiration. 

“Marvelous! Yes, our victory is assured! Let us show this beast the true meaning of pain!”

With a tug on her reins, Clair charges the beast, axe ready to cleave into its neck —

Clair 1/10HP misses Cervid Husk 6.5/10HP with Solemn Confeitor at melee range [Roll: 4 - 8 = -4, 7 - 8 = -1; -0, -0, Husk 6.5/10HP] Cervid Husk is unable to counterattack!

But her swings go wide, cutting into nothing but the empty air. Clair swears and pulls her steed to a stop.

Cervid Husk 6.5/10HP hits Clair 1/10HP with Entangling Vines [Roll: 17 + 4 = 21; -0, Clair 1/10HP] Clair is unable to counterattack!Cervid Husk 6.5/10HP follows up with Entangling Vines [Roll: 8 + 4 = 12; -0, Clair 1/10HP] Clair is inflicted with Constriction for one round!

She prepares to re-enter the fray, to swing at the cervid again, when vines burst forth from the ground and pull her off her saddle. Clair shrieks, landing on the ground with a loud clatter, like a chorus of pots and pans smashing against each other.

Mimic D 10/10HP hits and autocrits Clair 1/10HP with Solemn Confeitor at melee range (Hoplon Guard nullifies the crit!) [Roll: 7 + 8 = 15, 10 + 8 = 18; -0, -0, Clair 1/10HP] Clair is unable to counterattack!Mimic D 10/10HP receives damage from Sesshoseki [-4 HP, Mimic D 6/10HP]

Her mirror image comes at her, but Clair manages to parry its blows with her shield, knocking it back. She tries to move her feet, to pick up her axe and return to the fight but the vines have found a chink in her armor. She feels them coiling up her leg and around her shoulder and knows it is only a matter of time before —

[Roll: 3] Clair 1/10HP loses her turn and takes damage [-1, Clair 0/10HP]

She chokes, coughing, trying to scream for help that will never come before her vision bleeds to black and she crumples to her knees, DEFEATED.

@delicatevalentine

claude two electric boogaloo

gold round fall 2023

#tbt

[hycanitho]

The carnage before her is unstoppable, minds swayed by the beast’s beguiling whisper to turn their steel and spells upon each other.

The scene makes her feel as though she is in that horrible cell again, helpless and small, only able to watch the terror unfold before her. This feeling of fear twists and coils around her heart for only a moment, a scream building on her lips, before that damned whisper invades her mind once more. Her mind fog, reins going slack in her hand.

Useless girl. Look at them laugh at you. Your brother’s name will not save you here, where no one knows you.

“Stop…” Clair whimpers through gritted teeth, some rational part of her fighting to be heard. “They are not laughing at me. They’re not…”

A chorus of mocking laughter swells in her ears and suddenly they’re all looking at her, painfully wide smiles stretching across their faces. Clair digs her heels into her stirrups, grip around the shaft of her axe tightening to the point she thinks the skin on her knuckles will tear.

They’re what? Your friends? Surely you do not believe that… 

The laughter continues, and whatever occurs next happens in a blur. 

Clair 1/10HP hits Hilda 9/10HP with Basilikos [Roll: 16; -2.5, Hilda 6.5/10HP] Close Counter activates! Hilda 6.5/10HP counters with Kantele [Roll: 13 + 8 = 21; -0, Clair 1/10HP] Hilda 6.5/10HP receives damage from Sesshoseki [-2HP, Hilda 4.5/10HP] Close Counter activates! Hilda 4.5/10HP follows up with Kantele [Roll: 9 + 8 = 17; -0, Clair 1/10HP] Hilda 4.5/10HP receives damage from Sesshoseki [-2HP, Hilda 2.5/10HP] Clair is no longer Brainwashed!

She doesn’t remember riding into the thick of battle, she doesn’t remember raising her axe, she doesn’t remember how there came to be a mess of red along its blade. She only remembers the desperation burning a hole through her chest, the tears that threatened to spill over the more the laughter continued.

And suddenly all was silent, and Clair’s vision and mind clears. She stares at Hilda, and then at her axe, and guilt wraps it claws around her heart.

“Oh, Lady Hilda, I…” her voice breaks. “I’m so… please, accept my most earnest and utmost apologies. Let us go fetch Lady Marianne, I am sure a healing spell will patch you right up!”

Clair swivels in her saddle, searching the battlefield for their healer, only for her heart to drop when she spies Kent standing over the unconscious bodies of Marianne and Selena. She watches him come to from his trance, horrorstruck, and she quickly rides over.

“Professor! Professor, are you alright?” Clair is by his side in an instant, worry all over her features. “It’s not… well, there isn’t anything we can do for them right now. Please, do not let this guilt consume you. Don’t you remember what you had told me? If you wish to do something for those who have fallen, fight on! The battle can still be won!”

@delicatevalentine

claude two electric boogaloo

gold round fall 2023

#tbt

[hycanitho]

Clair is living a never-ending nightmare.

The beast had been defeated, so she thought. Weariness had overtaken her and the world had bled to black. When she returns to her senses, she finds a bit of weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She is still clad in unfamiliar platemail, but she is now atop a handsome stallion. An axe is clasped in her right hand, a shield looped around her left. Clair takes a moment to soak in her new look, an odd feeling of familiarity settling over her as she chases the memory. It clicks: this armor is near identical to her brother’s armor when he had captained the Knights of Zofia.

Clair pulls on the reins of her steed, steering it to the outskirts of battle. It’s the damned deer-beast and its strange copies of them again. Why can’t they just stay dead? she seethes. Her grip tightens around her axe. She vows she will send them all back to hell from whence they came.

Marianne quells  the deer’s magic, and Kent tries to follow up with a swing. He misses, with Kent taking the brunt of the blows. Clair’s fingers are rigid with how tightly she is grasping her reins. The beast turns to her primed to strike. Her steed skitters, nervous. It charges her, and Clair manages to steer her horse out of the way, managing to bounce a blow off it with her shield. It turns and tries to gore her again, but Clair blocks its antlers.

Cervid Husk 7/10HP** misses Clair 10/10HP with Antler Gore [Roll: 1 + 4 = 5; -0, Clair 10/10HP] Cervid Husk receives damage from Sesshoseki [-2HP, Cervid Husk 5/10HP**] Clair 10/10HP counters with Solemn Confiteor [Roll: 8 - 8 = 0, 16 - 8 = 8; -0, Cervid Husk 3/10HP**] Cervid Husk 3/10HP** follows up with Antler Gore [Roll: 11 + 4 = 15; -0, Clair 10/10HP] Cervid Husk receives damage from Sesshoseki [-2HP, Cervid Husk 1/10HP**] Seal Movement activates! Cervid Husk has been inflicted with Taunt!

“On my honor as a knight, I shall not allow any more hurt to befall you, professor!” Clair yanks at her reins, and at Selena’s rallying cry, charges into battle at the cervid. Instantly, the mirror images of Hilda, Selena, and herself ride to block her path. Her horse rears and Clair digs her feet into her stirrups, raising her shield. A couple knicks make it through the chinks in her armor, but she manages to shoulder through them. The pain is already quickly fading.

Clair 7/10HP crits Cervid Husk 1/10HP** with Basilikos. Focused Strike activates! [Roll: 20 + 4 = 24; -6.5HP, Cervid Husk 0/10HP**] Cervid Husk 0/10HP** casts Tempting Whisper on the party! All player units are inflicted with -2 Spd, -2 Dex, and -2 Avo for one round. Cervid Husk 0/10HP** loses one health bar, clears all debuffs, and heals to full. [+10, Cervid Husk 10/10HP*]

With an angered shout, Clair rides up to the cervid and drags the blade of her axe along its shank, leaving a deep gash. It buckles and collapses, but just as Clair suspects, it gets right back up in the next moment. Dread pools in her stomach; she does not want to hurt her friends again.

“Be on your guard! It will try and turn us against each other once more!”

@cutestrival, @liegebound, @cursedbluebird, @delicatevalentine

claude two electric boogaloo

gold round fall 2023

#〞 ☆ 𝐒𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 › IN CHARACTER. ╰ #〞 ☆ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐒 › CLAUDE TWO ELECTRIC BOOGALOO. ╰ #toaarena2023fall

[hycanitho]

Clair lives a nightmare made real.

She had watched her teammates fall lifeless, one by one, around her. Selena, wielding nothing but light, seems to shatter beneath the false Clair’s axe. Clair can only reach out helplessly as Selena drops like a stone, lying so still one might have mistaken her for being asleep.

Her mirror image turns on the true Clair, now, and Clair grips her axe tightly. “You dare wear my face and hurt my friends? I’ll wet my blade with your blood, villain! Death’s cold embrace will be a mercy in comparison to my burning fury!”

She focuses her attention on the deer; the weariness of battle gnaws at her, but she will not surrender, not while she can still fight. Clair swings her axe with all her might and clips the cervid across its hind. It jumps away, spooked, and her mirror image trudges over, blocking her way.

The mirror her takes a swing at Clair but she blocks the blow with her shield. The two Clairs are locked like that for a moment before Clair manages to push the other’s axe away in a shower of sparks. Vines sprout up at her feet, but she manages to shake them off, somehow, even in spite of all her armor. 

Her mimic advances on her to retaliate and Clair raises her shield in preperation, meeting its blow rather easily. Clair pushes against the axe pressing aganst her, slamming her shield into the mimic with all the force she can muster. Her mirror image shimmers as the other Clair stumbles back, doubled over, before disappearing in a gust.

The deer seems to know it is only it and her now. It lowers its head, ready to charge, and Clair braces herself for the impact.

“I am a daughter of Zofia, and I champion her skies.” Clair mutters through gritted teeth. “I will not bend, I will not break.”

The cervid digs its hooves into the ground before leaping forward, antlers aimed to gore, and Clair raises here shield once more. There’s the jarring sound of clashing metal and Clair pushes back against the assault, slamming her shield into it. The deer stumbles back, legs wobbly, before it collapses into a heap at her feet. Clair exhales, shoulders drooping as she drops her shield and axe with a clatter, and screams.

CERVID HUKSK HAS BEEN DEFEATED.

identity theft is not a joke jim — team two ( silver round )

#tbt.

[hycanitho]

Kent’s gentle assurances cut through the grief that weighs down her heart.

It is all an illusion, she knows, but she cannot help the gnawing helplessness that crawls all over her at the revelation she had swung her blade at those who had considered her an ally, a friend. Clair raises her gaze as Kent steps in front of her, shielding her vision from their opponents to grant her a brief respite to collect herself. A thank you dances on her tongue, but the expression of gratitude turns into a shriek as vines shoot up from the earth and entangle themselves around Kent. Clair can only watch, horrified, as they choke conciousness out of him. 

“Professor? Professor!”

The vines release him after many agonizing eternities, and he drops to the ground, lifeless. Clair scrambles to her feat; the weariness of battle had begun to set in, and Kent, Marianne, and Hilda all lie incapacitated. Only she and Selena remain standing. Clair turns to face the young woman, trying for a brave smile.

“No, Selena. I felt not even a sting. Do not worry yourself with the idea, it’s not… it is these things, these beasts’ influence. Stand behind me, I shall be your shield. I swear to you I will not allow you to come to harm!”

Clair turns her attention back to the cervid thing. It tilts its head down, ready to charge. A heartbeat, then Clair leaps at the monster.

Clair 10/10HP misses Cervid Husk 190/10HP with Silver Axe [Roll: 7- 8 = -1; -0, Cervid Husk 10/10HP] Cervid Husk is unable to counterattack!

But her swing goes wide and cleaves into the earth between its hooves. Her hands shake and there is a metallic taste in her mouth. Silently, she swears.

“I have faced worse thank you,” she spits, disdainful, though she doubts the monster can understand her. The words are more for her, in truth.

@cutestrival

identity theft is not a joke jim — team two ( silver round )

#tbt

[hycanitho]

The voice is almost a tangible thing, coiling around her, constricting her very psyche. Clair is screaming, she thinks: her mouth is open and her throat is sore, but she cannot hear anything but the beguiling voice in her mind.

Vaguely, somewhere, somehow, she sees Marianne and Hilda crumple. Through blurry eyes she watches the thing that wears her face — that dark her, that ugly shadow — advanced on Hilda and sent her to her doom. 

Poor, pretty little knight. These boots are too big for you, hmm? Always wrecking some havoc — everything you touch cracks and shatters and lands everyone around you into trouble.

There’s a wetness on her face; she can’t feel wipe her tears through the splintering pain in her mind and the thick steel and chainmail of her bracers. 

Should have stayed in that cell. Should have died in Rigel. 

“Silence!” Clair slashes through the air at nothing but fading laughter. She whirls on her heel and sees someone crouched on the ground, helpless. Something contorts her vision; she sees a head of gold, a dress of blue. She’ll kill her, Clair decides. She will kill this small, useless part of her and be rid from these gnawing feelings of despair at last. Finally, finally, finally! She will quell this mocking whisper with the black of death. Her armor clanks loudly as she makes her menacing approach — her axe raised high but something stands between her and the girl. She can’t make out what it is, who it is — at first she sees a head of crimson, and then the moled face of kin, then the viridian armor of someone sickeningly familiar.

“Get out of my way!” Clair slams her shield against the person knocks him aside. She towers over the girl on the ground, axe raised high —

Clair 10/10HP hits Selena 10/10HP with Silver Axe [Roll: 11; -1, Selena 9/10HP]

The silver blade flashes, crashing down and digging into the earth. It knicks Selena, but it is no grave wound. Clair crumples under the weight of her armor, the fog from her mind lifted. 

“ … snap out of it!”

She stares at the blood on her shield, across the field to meet the eyes of the beast that wears her face — it feels as though she is gazing through a looking glass.

“What have I done?”

@cutestrival

identity theft is not a joke jim — team two ( silver round )

#tbbgt. drinnk. #lol #ummmmmmmmmm #.unlcked my 3rd eye

[hycanitho]

When Clair comes to, she finds her feet firmly planted on solid ground. 

Amongst the new sensations of heavy platemail weighing her down and cold steel against her skin, she feels a faint sensation of perpetual unease that she cannot seem to shake. Her vision sharpens and clears, mouth hanging slightly agape at the realization that she is alright — there is no water in her lungs and no abyss to sink into below her feet.

But that false death granted her no reprieve; these new surroundings bring with them no opponents to face. A large, strange deer-like creature lurks before them. It has the head of a human, twisted and malformed. Clair squints — she recognizes the face on the neck of the stag. Isn’t that…?

Hilda’s horrified whisper confirms her suspicions. Just what on earth is going on in this illusory world? Clair spies more familiar faces upon the battlefield around the stag and her stomach lurches at the realization that somehow, someway, they are facing their doppelgänger — mimics of their very selves.

Clair grits her teeth and raises her shield. “The nerve it has to wear my face! I refuse to allow my beautiful, glorious visage to be used for villainy, least of all to hurt my sisters and brother in arms! Take heart, friends — I will protect us from any adversary!”

Perhaps shaken by the sight of her House Leader transmogrified into that horrid beast, Hilda misses her lance swing. Clair cannot help but feel a sting of envy; why couldn’t she get a lance? She would have made quick work of their foes if she were mounted, wielding the knight’s weapon. Professor Kent rushes the deer, unleashing a flurry of blows against it. The deer swipes at him with his antlers and Clair cannot help but flinch; in the blur of his movement, Clair thinks she sees her brother. As he pulls away, the concern he has for the rest of them only strengthens the parallel in her head. As Kent retreats, Clair surges forward, running as fast as her armor will allow her to.

Clair 10/10HP crits Cervid Husk 2.5/10HP** with Silver Axe [Roll: 20 - 8 = 12; -6, Cervid Husk 0/10HP**]

“Be felled, wretched thing, by my immeasurable strength!”

With a furious cry, Clair hefts up the axe in one hand and swings it ‘round over her head before crashing it down onto the neck of the cervid with devastating might. It crumples like paper beneath her blade. Clair is stunned for a moment before she breaks into triumphant laughter.

Cervid Husk 0/10HP** casts Whisper on the party! All player units are inflicted with -2 Spd, -2 Dex, and -2 Avo for one round. Cervid Husk 0/10HP** loses one health bar, clears all debuffs, and heals to full. [+10, Cervid Husk 10/10HP*]

Her delight is short lived as, to her horror, the cervid climbs back to its feet and something in the air shifts. A soft chorus of whispering fills her head. Clair doubles over, clutching her head in apparent agony.

“No, no stop…! My head, something’s wrong — stay away from me, don’t look at me!”

@cursedbluebird ... !

identity theft is not a joke jim — team two ( silver round )

#〞 ☆ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐒 › IDENTITY THEFT IS NOT A JOKE JIM. ╰ #〞 ☆ 𝐒𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 › IN CHARACTER. ╰ #toaarena2023fall

[hycanitho]

They are gone before the scream leaves her lips.

Clair grips the edge of the boat, leaning so far over its edge her nose is practically touching the surface of the waves. Her heart threatens to hammer right out of her chest; somewhere, she knows this is all an illusion, and that they alright — that they will all be alright. But she cannot help but feel the sickening terror and dread that tears through her, as rancorous as the riptide.

The Queen of the Sea’s rage has yet to abate, and her fury lands squarely upon Clair’s shoulders. With no time to mourn, Clair readies her axe and something along her arms bristle. One more hit, all she needs is one more hit — !

Outnumbered activates! Sophrosyne 6.5/20HP hits Clair 6/10HP with Deluge at range [Roll: 17, -2.5, Clair 3.5/10HP] Clair is unable to counterattack! [Roll: 1] Sophrosyne 6.5/20HP follows up with Deluge [Roll: 20; -5, Clair 0/10HP] Clair has been defeated!

She does not even have a chance to raise her weapon. A wave slams into her with the same force as a bag of bricks; it feels as though someone had picked up a wall and thrown it, whole, at her. She can’t breathe, gasping for air that won’t enter her lungs. Somewhere, she feels her axe slip from her grasp as her vision goes black.

CLAIR HAS BEEN DEFEATED.

@cursedbluebird ... !

As quickly as they felt to be losing ground with the enemy, they soon gained it back, and vice versa. It was a constant tug-of-war of weakening the monster and then being overpowered by its minions. At this point, Hilda couldn't even tell if they were winning or losing.

Well, the giant reptile wasted no time in making that clear.

The blonde axe-wielder -- Clair, was it? -- landed a powerful hit that raised Hilda's hopes of victory. This prospect was soon crushed.

As was she.

The beast reared up from the water once more, unleashing wave after crushing wave unto their vessel. This time, she was ill-prepared. She reached out for something to hold onto but her hand met only air, and then water, and then her feet were no longer on solid ground, and there was nothing but roaring in her ears, and she was somersaulting round and round, and she didn't know which way was up...

Hilda is inflicted with Drowning! [Roll: 4, 4, 3, 2]

She tried, Goddess she tried. Her kicks were feeble but determined. Through the haze of the water and her hypoxic brain, she thought she might have seen the shape of the ship coming closer. The image, real or not, spurred her on.

If her head ever broke the water, she was not conscious to see it.

Hilda falls unconscious!

@hycanitho

#〞 ☆ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐒 › MAN OVERBOARD. ╰ #〞 ☆ 𝐒𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 › IN CHARACTER. ╰ #toaarena2023fall

[hycanitho]

They aren’t going to last at this rate.

The beasts are wearing them down, and they have the advantage with the safety of the water. Clair stands, hunched over, using the shaft of her axe as support. Kent reinforces Clair’s words before he turns his attention back to the beast and strikes. His fists connect, but they are making little progress.

Resolve burning brightly in her chest, Clair rushes to the edge of the boat and steps up onto the side. The blade scrapes against the floor of the skiff as she drags at across the wood. She narrows her eyes, shoulders tense and knuckles white. Finally, her opportunity comes: 

roll 1d20 - 4 — nat 20; critical hit! -3.5 HP, SOPHROSYNE has 4.5 / 20 HP left. SOPHROSYNE immediately unleashes CRUSHING WAVES! -1 HP, CLAIR has 6/10 HP.

With a cry, Clair slams the axe down onto the beast stalking them right beneath the waves. She feels her blow connect, and she crows with happiness. The joy is short lived, however, as it rises from the water with all the fury of a stormy sea. Clair is lucky to only be doused, but panic sets in as she realizes Hilda and Kent have found themselves in the ocean amongst the monsters.

“Hilda! Professor!” Her head swivels back and forth in a panic. “Do not fret, we shall find a way to rescue you from the clutches of the storm!”

@cursedbluebird , @delicatevalentine , @cutestrival

        Ever the optimist, Professor! To Hilda's comment, Kent grows a bit flustered, thrown off-guard by it.  “ I've never been called that, truth be told... ”  His reply, made a bit quieter than his previous booming statements, could easily be buried underneath the sound of the water sloshing about or the little creatures come to nip and gnaw at them crying out.

But Clair makes a point.

“ As Lady Clair says, it does appear to be regenerating its energy and healing its own wounds... If this is a war of attrition, it may very well have the upperhand in that regard. Our only recourse is to do as she says, and to put our focus in striking it one after another so as to not allow it that time to recover...! ”

But morale is flagging. Between all the bites and missed strikes, their battle atop this ship is wearing them all down. He must put a brave front on then.

Kent 8/10HP hits and hits Sophrosyne 10/20HP with Shielding Art [Roll: 1, 4] The Immovable procs on the first hit! [Roll: 7, 14; -0.5, -1.5, Sophrosyne 8/20HP] Sophrosyne does not counterattack!

Brave the waters and not show weakness to one's enemy. His fist connects with a hard bit of shell the first time but his strikes do not waver, he does not allow himself the time to slow, for a cavalier's duty is to be on the frontlines and to be bold no matter what.

And if this is his duty, then so be it.

NEXT: @hycanitho !!

#〞 ☆ 𝐒𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 › IN CHARACTER. ╰ #〞 ☆ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐒 › MAN OVERBOARD. ╰ #toaarena2023fall

[hycanitho]

Seeing her teammates brave the theoretical (and very wet) storm, Clair silently resolves to try harder to pull her weight.

“More of those wretched little things!” Clair hisses through gritted fangs as the smaller turtles surface. They leap at the girls (and Kent), snapping at any limb they can latch onto. Clair shrieks as she feels one of the beasts latch onto her arm. 

roll 1d20 + 2 — 15; hit! -2.5 HP, SOPHI D is defeated! 

In a frantic frenzy, Clair manages to shake the thing from her arm (wailing and whining the entire time) and swings her axe at the little monster while it is suspended midair, cutting through its shell and cleaving it right in two.

“Horrible, terrible…” Clair rushes to the edge of the skiff and peers into the water. “That thing under the waves — it seems to heal every hit we give it! We must strike quickly, in succession so that it does not get the opportunity to heal…” 

roll 1d20 - 6  — 1; miss! -0 HP, SOPHROSYNE does not counter attack!

Raising her axe over her head once again, she swings it at the water, thinking she had caught its shadow slipping around beneath their boat. She pulls it back, having hit nothing.

@delicatevalentine , @cursedbluebird , @liegebound

#〞 ☆ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐒 › MAN OVERBOARD. ╰ #〞 ☆ 𝐒𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 › IN CHARACTER. ╰ #toaarena2023fall

[hycanitho]

The creek of the bowstring predates a massive swell in the sea; Hilda’s arrow cuts through the waves and strikes true. With a horrible cry, the beast heaves up from the water and brings a wall of water crashing down on them.

Sophrosyne 17/20 HP immediately unleashes Crushing Waves! [Roll: 5d4-1 = 1, 1, 1, 2, 2] Clair loses 2 HP! 8/10 HP

Clair is drowning standing up, blindly swatting at the water in some blind hope of catching her breath. The beasts retreats back under the waves and Clair is left standing by the edge of the skiff, heaving, trying to wipe her bangs from her face with her newly clawed hands. More the smaller, wretched beasts surface around their boat. Clair hefts her axe over her shoulder again, seeking out the dark shape of the beasts under the waves. Her teammates had done good work, adjusting to their new and unusual circumstances rather quickly. Her knuckles turn white around the handle of the axe. Why, oh why is she the only one who cannot pull it together?

“Marvelous work, my dear comrades! Let our strikes be quick and true against this beast so that we may be rid of this nightmare q—”

Something moving in the corner of her eye catches her attention. She spins on her heel, axe flying down into the water — !

roll 1d20 — 6; miss! -0 HP, SOPHROSYNE does not counter attack!

And she cuts through nothing, the only thing wetting her blade being the salty seawater.

“Gods damn it…”

@delicatevalentine , @cursedbluebird , @cutestrival

man overboard — team two ( bronze round )

#〞 ☆ 𝐒𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 › IN CHARACTER. ╰ #〞 ☆ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐒 › MAN OVERBOARD. ╰ #team tbt #toaarena2023fall #( i cannot figure out trimming rn im sorry i'll get that sorted out )

[hycanitho]

Clair had always loved to sail — her favorite of all the estates her family owns is the one they frequent in the summer, right on the seaside. 

The skiff rocks beneath her feet and she doubles over. Is she seasick? No, that cannot be it; distantly, in the back of her foggy mind, she knows she has never been seasick before in all her life. She feels strange, weird, wrong. Her arms are too long, legs are too tall — are those claws? Horrified, she leans overboard to try and catch a glimpse of herself in the water’s surface. Her reflection is distorted by the whitewater and ripples, but the thing in the water is not her.

“By the Mother, what is wrong with me?” she wails, burying her face in her hands. “Am I hideous? Am I terrible? Gods, gods, gods!”

The boat rocks again, more violently this time. Clair gathers her axe (they make a beast of her and could not even bother to bestow upon her a lance?) in her hands and peers at the shapes moving under the waves. The matter of her appearance, no matter how pressing it seemed to her, would have to wait for a moment of calm. 

roll 1d20 — miss! SOPHROSYNE does not counter attack!

She brings down the blade and cuts into nothing but the water, stifling a swear under her breath.

“Just how in Mila’s name are we supposed to hit this beast?”

@delicatevalentine , @cutestrival , @cursedbluebird

man overboard — team two ( bronze round )

#〞 ☆ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐒 › MAN OVERBOARD. ╰ #〞 ☆ 𝐒𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 › IN CHARACTER. ╰ #team tbt #toaarena2023fall

[hycanitho]

Her brother, in all his infinite grace, knowledge, and wisdom, oft told Clair that she would never know a day’s worth of hard, honest work in all her pampered life.

Clair readily disagreed with him, as little sisters usually do. Why, she worked plenty — a lady simply exerts herself in a different manner compared to the less-fair sex. And she would argue she is every bit as rugged as any other man in her life — there was not a man in all of Zofia or Rigel who handled a saddle as well as she.

But for all her adamant insistence of never shying away from work, when she is tasked with shoring up the Monastery’s defenses, it seemed as though all she did up on the fortifications was whine and moan about how difficult the labor is.

Pouring sand into the sandbags was tedious, and the fine grains nestled in her nail beds, dirtying her perfect manicure. They were heavy, and carrying them up and down the battlements made her sweat. Counting vulnaries and separating them from poisons was no better, for Clair could never keep a straight head about which was which and how many she had already stored away. All of this she complained about, to which her fellow volunteers were subject to for the better part of two hours.

They sent her away, eventually. It quickly came to their attention that someone had been tampering with the defenses they had been setting up. Sandbags were found cut, vulnaries and toxins emptied, and inventory was going missing. They feared that this thief would strike next at the armory, stealing precious weapons from the defense effort. And so they dispatched Clair to find the thief and bring them to justice so that preparations may continue smoothly. 

Clair is sent with an axe to be returned to the armory as well, and so she finds herself lugging the bulky thing up the steps to the weapons cache. Curiously, she finds the door hanging ever so slightly ajar as she approaches. An ominous beam of sunlight illuminates the floor before her, and she pauses, wary. Her grip around the axe tightens. Someone had been here… were they still within the armory? Hesitantly, she edges closer. Something is wrong — Clair’s intuition had rarely ever failed her.

“Hello?” she calls. The axe scrapes against the stone has she approaches. “I am not fooled, villain. I know you lurk in these shadows. In all my graciousness, I will allow you to make your presence known and I shall be kind in your detainment. …Hello? Heed my words, or face my wrath!”

Clair stops right on the threshold of the armory. A beat of silence, then she heaves the axe over her shoulder and drives it through the door.

pas de deux

#〞 ☆ 𝐒𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 › IN CHARACTER. ╰ #〞 ☆ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐒 › PAS DE DEUX. ╰ #〞 ☆ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐍 › BERKUT. ╰ #( HEREEEEE'S CLAIR! ) #( clair vc hmmm something is wrong here. i will respond to this situation with impulsive violence ) #( it's like when you're playing a horror game and something is definately wrong so you start swinging at the air )

[hycanitho]

@unsungblade sent. ✧ rasque: a moment you instantly wish you could take back, feeling a pulse of dread right after crossing the point of no return.

When Fernand turns and storms out of the Deliverance, it is Clair who runs after him, following closely on his heels. She chases him down the decaying stone halls of the crypt, the clattering of her boot soles against the ground and shouts for him to wait, wait just a moment echoing throughout the corridor.

She catches up to him in the sunlight, feet digging into the soft earth as she skids to a stop, just on the edge of the forest. She finds him preparing to leave, saddling his steed with what little he kept in the hideout alongside rations and supplies for at least a week’s long ride.

“Fernand? …Fernand!”

Her breaths are quick and ragged, and she wobbles on her feet for a moment before her hand shoots out and seizes him by the arm — both to steady herself and to keep him from taking his reins and riding off into the treeline.

“Do not act as though you cannot hear me!”

His sharp glare cuts through her, but he stills. He nudges her, but Clair’s grip remains steadfast. It takes him a moment and several annoyed grunts, each increasing in volume, before he can wrest his arm from her grasp.

Clair flinches, recoiling from the sharpness of his movements. “By the Mother, what on earth has gotten into you, Fernand? If I had known you could react in such a manner, I would have never even dreamed of respecting your authority over me all those years ago. I mean — truly, how can you call me immature while you stamp around so? I was more level-headed on my sixteenth birthday! …And you do remember how I reacted when Lady Augustinne arrived wearing the exact gown I had on.”

Fernand has his back to her, hands busy. Clair comes closer to him, trying to wedge herself between him and his steed.

“Please, Fernand. You cannot be serious about leaving. How could you turn your back on Zofia? On us? On Clive? What happened to the promise of fighting for those who could not fight, of returning Zofia to her rightful people, of avenging those tyranny have stolen from us?”

Silence lay thickly between them. Clair stamps her foot.

“Fernand! I demand you say something!”

He shoulders past her; Clair stumbles back, alarmed, and trips over the soles of her own boots. He mounts his steed and casts a glance down at her, sitting in the dirt. She stares at him, eyes wide and jaw agape. For once, she is speechless.

She sees his jaw tighten as he turns away, the reins of his horse clutched tightly in leather gloved hands. Something sparks within her, and scrabbles her way back to her feet. Her eyes feel hot, and she tries to blink her tears away as quickly as she can manage. A white hot, devastatingly heavy anger weighs on her psyche, but she still does not want him to worry for her. She does not want him to see her cry for him, mourning for him.

“Go, then!” she shouts. There’s a painful, sore hoarseness in her voice. “Go! Go, and do not ever think of us again! I hope I die on the march to Rigel. I hope I am killed in the most horrible and monstrous of ways. I hope all of us are! Then you’ll be truly and terribly alone, with nothing and no one and you’ll mourn for your family for the rest of your sorry, sorry life!”

Clair does not wait to see the ramifications of her words, to see how rigid Fernand had become or how his feet dug into his stirrups.

She turns and she runs. 

Away, this time.

#〞 ☆ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐘… › DRABBLES. ╰ #〞 ☆ 𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐄-𝐀-𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐄 › ASKBOX. ╰ #〞 ☆ 𝐒𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 › IN CHARACTER. ╰ #( clair and fernand found siblingship im going to throw up )

[hycanitho]

WHITE. e4

Amongst all the skills the Knights had Clair had trained in, subtlety still remained a terrible weak point for her.

She had not meant to stare for so long — truly, she hadn’t. The chess board had caught her eye first; faint memories of sitting by the fire as snow fell gently on the lawn, ice crystal snaking over the window glass Clive guided her hand and taught her the rules of the game and advised her on stratagems for victory. The sight struck a chord of homesickness in her; even the young man pouring over the board even reminded her of Clive, with his furrowed brow and perplexed expression. 

His challenge jolts Clair from her reverie, and a grin pulls at her mouth as she sweeps into the chair opposite from Alfonse while he rearranges the pieces. Clair is pleased to see that he has given her the first move.

“It would be my honor to be your opponent, Alfonse.” she crows, lacing her fingers together and stretching her arms out in front of her before she turns her attention to the board. Clair considers her move for a moment — the first one is one of the most important of the game after all. After a moment of deliberation, she selects a pawn and moves it two spaces forward.

“I hope you are prepared to be awed by my genius!”

✧ / PAWNS OF LOKI. 01

MINI. ic chess

#〞 ☆ 𝐒𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 › IN CHARACTER. ╰ #〞 ☆ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 › PAWNS OF LOKI. ╰ #〞 ☆ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐍 › ALFONSE. ╰

[hycanitho]

𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬.

a collection of words to describe the strangeness of being human.

✧ agnosthesia: the state of not knowing how you really feel about something.

✧ alazia: the fear that you're no longer able to change.

✧ altschmerz: a sense of weariness with the same old problems that you've always had, the same boring issues and anxieties you've been gnawing on for decades.

✧ apolytus: the moment you realize you are changing as a person, finally outgrowing your old problems like a reptile shedding its skin.

✧ bareleveling: trying to improve yourself without anyone else knowing about it, afraid that they'll think it's silly or grandiose or unnecessary, or that they'll end up calling too much attention to your efforts.

✧ bye-over: the sheepish casual vibe between two people who've shared an emotional farewell but then unexpectedly have a little extra time together.

✧ candling: the habit of taking stock of your life on the occasion of your birthday.

✧ craxis: the unease of knowing how quickly your circumstances could change on you.

✧ daguerreologue: an imaginary conversation with an old photo of yourself, in which you might offer them a word of advice, or maybe just ask them if they thought you had done justice to the life they built for you.

✧ dead reckoning: finding yourself bothered by somebody's death more than you would have expected, even if they were only an abstract presence in your life.

✧ dolonia: a state of unease prompted by people who seem to like you too much, which makes you wonder if they must have you confused with someone else.

✧ endzoned: the hollow feeling of having gotten exactly what you thought you wanted, only to learn that it didn't make you happy.

✧ énouement: the bittersweetness of having arrived here in the future, finally learning the answers to how things turned out but being unable to tell your past self.

✧ etterath: the feeling of emptiness after a long and arduous process is finally complete.

✧ falesia: the disquieting awareness that someone's importance to you and your importance to them may not necessarily match.

✧ feresy: the fear that your partner is changing in ways you don't understand, even though they might be changes for the better.

✧ fool's guilt: a pulse of shame you feel even though you've done nothing wrong.

✧ harmonoia: an itchy sense of dread when life feels just a hint too peaceful, with an eerie stillness that makes you want to brace for the inevitable collapse, or burn it down yourself.

✧ heartspur: an unexpected surge of emotion in response to a seemingly innocuous trigger, which feels all the more intense because you can't quite pin it down.

✧ immerensis: the maddening inability to understand the reasons why someone loves you.

✧ inerrata: a kind of mistake you wouldn't take back even if you could.

✧ insoucism: the inability to decide how much sympathy your situation really deserves, knowing that so many people have it far worse and others far better.

✧ justing: the habit of telling yourself that just one tweak could solve all of your problems, which leaves you feeling perpetually on the cusp of a better life.

✧ kairosclerosis: the moment you look around and realize that you're currently happy, which prompts your intellect to identify it, pick it apart, and put it in context.

✧ keep: an important part of your personality that others seldom see, that remains a vital part of who you are even if nobody knows it's there.

✧ kuebiko: a state of exhaustion inspired by senseless tragedies and acts of violence, which force you to abruptly revise your expectations of what can happen in this world.

✧ lackout: the sudden awareness that you're finally over someone, noticing that the same voice that once triggered a cocktail of emotions now evokes nothing at all.

✧ leidenfreude: a sense of paradoxical relief when something bad happens to you.

✧ liberosis: the desire to care less about things.

✧ lyssamania: the irrational fear that someone you know is angry with you.

✧ mauerbauertraurigkeit: the inexplicable urge to push people away, even close friends whose company you generally enjoy.

✧ mcfeely: to be inexplicably moved by predictable and well-worn sentiments, even if they're trite or obvious or being broadcast blindly to the masses.

✧ nachlophobia: the fear that your deepest connections with people are ultimately pretty shallow.

✧ nighthawk: a recurring thought that only seems to strike you late at night.

✧ opia: the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable.

✧ ozurie: the feeling of being torn between the life you want and the life you have.

✧ pâro: the feeling that everything you do is always somehow wrong.

✧ povism: the frustration of being stuck inside your own head, unable to see your face or read your body language in context, only ever guessing how you might be coming across.

✧ proluctance: the paradoxical urge to avoid doing something you've been looking forward to, stretching out the bliss of anticipation as long as you can.

✧ punt kick: a quiet jolt of recognition that it's time to become a better version of yourself, sensing that all the strategies that brought you this far are no longer working.

✧ rasque: a moment you instantly wish you could take back, feeling a pulse of dread right after crossing the point of no return.

✧ rubatosis: the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat.

✧ scabulous: being proud of a certain scar on your body, even if it hurts.

✧ slipfast: the longing to disappear completely, so you can take in the world without having to take part in it.

✧ soufrise: the maddening thrill of an ambiguous flirtation, which quivers in tension halfway between platonic and romantic.

✧ tiris: the bittersweet awareness that all things must end.

✧ the whipgraft delusion: the phenomenon in which you catch your reflection in the mirror and get the sense that you're peering into the eyes of a stranger.

✧ tichloch: the anxiety of never knowing how much time you have left.

✧ tornomov: the weird hollowness of trying to imagine the distant future.

✧ yu yi: the longing to feel things intensely again.

#〞 ☆ 𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐄-𝐀-𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐄 › ASKBOX. ╰ #( no greater sorrow than being a teenage girl in your 20s )

[hycanitho]

@redmessenger sent. "Lady Clair, it's lovely to see you again. You're certainly a sight for sore eyes... Ah," Lukas watches with wide eyes as any army of butlers carry trunk after trunk into the students dorms. "Did another person accompany you here? I'm sorry to say I didn't catch them."

Clair’s first order of business upon her return to Garreg Mach was transforming her Academy-ordained dormitory into a space that resembled something liveable. It looked to be tough work, for the room she had been given is only an eighth of the size of her chambers (maybe even smaller than that, in comparison to the sprawl of her summer estate). How she would ever fit even a quarter of the things needed for her survival into this veritable shoebox of a room is yet to be seen.

She steps out into the hall for a moment while her troupe of maids and manservants rearranges her dormitory to her liking, for overseeing such a task is quite the arduous thing. A familiar sight awaits her right outside her door — those russet tones and deep, dulcet voice could only belong to one lanceman.

“Lu - kas!” she crows, throwing out her arms and wrapping him in the tightest embrace she can muster. “I do say, it is the most delightful of surprises to see you here. Did my brother write to you about my arrival?”

Ladyknight releases him from her vice grip, throwing a glance over her shoulder at her various servants bustling about her room. “Oh, no, I made the journey alone. My father thought it best I come with some help… you know, for all the things that needed to come with me. I couldn’t have possibly carried all my belongings on my own! Why, I must have brought at least four trunks of gowns alone…”

Clair clears her throat. “Well, I doubt you came to see me for an inventory of my belongings — and, honestly, Lukas, between you and me, I scarcely remember half the things I even ended up bringing!” Grinning brightly, she loops an arm through his and rests it at the crook of his elbow.

“Now, I believe I am in the mood for a cup of tea. Or something sweet. Both, perhaps — yes, I think I would like both. We just have to catch up, Lukas. There is simply so much I must know!”

#〞 ☆ 𝐒𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓 › IN CHARACTER. ╰ #〞 ☆ 𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐄-𝐀-𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐄 › ASKBOX. ╰ #( LUKAS !!!!!!! ) #( ty for sending. adore him )