#toabaldrsbounty

[bxldrsdraumar]

You're Invited!

You find the invitation tucked into your doorjamb, or tucked into a pocket or boot set aside during training, or in the library, or in the dining hall. You don't know who it's from or how it got there, but the moment you open it and read you find yourself smiling with fondness (or your brow furrowing in confusion, or the sheer rage at the audacity - who are we to judge).

Inside there are two distinct sets of handwriting - one splotchy, scratchy, with strikethroughs and ink spots, and the other rigid, neat, and pleasing:

Join Us! You are hereby corjal corge - cordially - invited to join the Chalphy - Chalphy-Claus! - family for a traditional holiday harvest feast! Enjoy the many lucks - luxurious - dishes traditional to Chalphy in Grannvale, as well as the sharing of other activities and traditions of the area!

We have shared many a feast in our childhoods, and we would love to now share them with you, our friends!

Jugdral countrymen must attend! - You can't say that Sig!

What's going on?

Erica and tches autumn-winter Thanksgivingmas shenanigans, that's what! Join us in holding a holiday family dinner with the most dramatic soap opera family nonsense of all time! This low-stakes event will be a fun little "potluck" holiday family dinner, but without any of the stress that comes with the real thing - just a friendly little ask meme event, with prompts provided by Erica and tches.

Proposed dates are Dec 02 - 10! If you're interested in joining us, fill out the interest check here by Nov 19! (Better hurry! Latecomers who don't fill out the interest check will still be allowed to attend, but we can't promise the best seats in the house!)

All posts on Sigurd and Ethlyn's blog will be tagged #toabaldrsbounty.

Hope to see you there!

#out of character #toabaldrsbounty #just a fun little minivent me and erica have joked about for months lmao

[justicefanged]

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to."

Altena grits her teeth as she looks down at the place cards set on the table. She hadn't expected something so formal, so rigid. She'd been hoping they could keep to themselves and have a good time but no. She is seated directly across from her father.

"I have to do this for Mother, for Leif but you can leave and find someplace better to sit. Trust me, I'll understand."

She doesn't want him to, of course. His presence is comforting and he's always managed to make her feel at ease. But she can't in good conscience expect him to want to be part of whatever is going to go down at the dinner table.

"Huh?"

It's a genuine reaction. Sure, it's definitely way more fancy than the sorts of parties Linus goes to -- and man, they really are sat right there with a lot of her family -- but things had barely even started! It couldn't have gotten that bad so fast, right?

...Well...

"Hey now, ya think I'm gonna ditch ya? For one thing, like that'd ever happen. But for another, ya think I'd duck out so early on ya?" Linus scoffed, bumping Altena lightly with his shoulder. "If you're here, I'm here; sorry, you're stuck with me!" He is watching her carefully, though, trying to gauge how much of this was genuine discomfort and how how much of it might just be nerves.

"Bullshit," he says -- probably not proper language for this sort of thing, but he couldn't care less. "You don't have to do nothin' for nobody if you don't want to. It's nice to do things for family when you can, but sometimes it just don't work out and you can say that! You should be able to be honest with family."

That had been the case with his family, at least. Sure, they could get hot headed and stubborn as pigs with each other, but there were never any lies between them.

Leaning down for a moment, Linus scoops up Honk and without warning deposits the slightly drowsy puppy into her arms.

"Here, you take him for a bit." Dogs always helped, in his opinion, and there was something healing about holding a warm, soft-furred puppy when you were stressed out. "I'm gonna get us some good drinks, and if you still ain't feelin' it by the time we finish those, we can walk out. And if anyone has a problem with it, I'll tell them to fuck off. We can grab some food and hang out in the stables with Peaches, if that'd be better for ya."

#toabaldrsbounty #[he is absolutely ready and willing to cause such a scene in order to get altena out if thats what she wants]

[aimlessarchery]

Punch Bowl - A haven for the less socially-inclined, you can gather around the proverbial water cooler and make awkward eye contact until someone drags you off to have fun. Unless of course the more mischief-minded decide to slip a little something in there to lighten things up?

"Careful, Professor," she warns, eyeing the serving bowl with a peculiar expression. A variety of fruit bobs along the surface. Slices of citrus, small berries, and opaque ice cubes. Nothing immediately suspicious, but Sara scrutinzes it long enough to seem concerning.

"There is something floating in there."

"Hm?" It's Python's own fault, really, choosing to linger where the odd birds tend to roost at a gathering like this. Fielding strange comments from strange girls should have been expected. They'd met at a previous event—another celebration of Jugdral culture, actually. Nanna had gotten a real rise out of her during their sparring session, but Python felt his own impact paled in comparison. He'd chalked it up to her own disinterest, but perhaps he just hadn't found the right approach… "Uh. Yeah. It all looks like edible stuff to me. Unless…………" Python joins Sara in her scrutiny, peering down at the punch bowl for a few seconds of suspicious silence. He reaches for the ladle and gives it a quick stir. The floating contents meander by in a lazy circular current. "Good gods! Is that an eyeball?!" A trained eye could easily recognize the sphere bobbing amidst a pack of ice cubes as a gooseberry. An untrained eye could make a similar guess given the context. Python feigns shock anyway, watching Sara's expression for any sign of reaction.

#[ ic ] #[ ask ] #toabaldrsbounty #shadoll #// sorry to whoever made the punch for slandering you. he has to say weird shit to try to get a rise out of people sometimes or he'll die

[enarmor]

"Sain!" Mark's voice picks up a bit at the sound of his voice, just barely cutting over the dim sound of the crowd. The tactician slides through the assembled people to reach him, and give him a small bow and warm smile. "I'm glad to see you here. Are you well?"

Sain is nearly at the end of his rope when Mark arrives. He had tried his hand at the whole flirting bit, and be it either his past experiences coloring him a better man or just being out of whack, he's about to call it quits. He muses that he'd still stick around for dinner--owing it to Lady Ethlyn and Sir Sigurd--but that this wouldn't be a repeat of the Ethereal Ball.

There's no Kent here to cry on his shoulders, in any case.

Keyword: almost. For the sound of Mark's quiet voice unlocks memories he hadn't thought of in a long, long time. She rarely spoke, even as the threat of a second Scouring drew near, but what commands she did issue are branded into his ears.

"By the grace of Elimine!"

He swats her hands to each side of her body, skipping the awkwardness of their encounter to pull the strategist into a hug. It's a big one, to boot, with Sain's well trained-arms and passionate, fiery heart enveloping her in his love. "Ah, Mark! I yearned to hear the sweet sound of your voice again! It's like birdsong on a quiet summer's morning. I can picture it against a backdrop of a flowering garden and rising sun! How could I not be well with you in my midst?"

Just as quickly as she had been pulled, she is pushed back to arm's length--her shoulders held in his gloved hands. "And look at you, oh look at you! If I were any more the fool, I'd have mistaken you for the queen of Bern. Look how well you blossomed!"

His smile touches both ends of his face. Behind all his high-flying words is a genuine sense of excitement that no charade could mask. Mark was his rock, the needle on his compass. If ever he needed to be tied down or shown which way was forward, she was there. She commanded him with her masterful hand, and he moved three spaces across her board each time. Always in that jagged 'L,' always forming up for the offensive. If ever she needed a shooting star to streak across the battlefield, she had Sain. Fearless Sain, adoring Sain.

"Come, my darling. Let your devoted knight whisk you away. I'll make room at the table for you--maybe chase off that dreadful Reed--and we can catch up over dinner."

#IC #ASKBOX #ALLYPHASE #toabaldrsbounty #//MARK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #//FUCK YEAH MARK THAT'S SAIN'S GUY THAT'S SAIN'S DUDEEEE

[valflaame]

arvis & deirdre's party outfits. :) @nagaficat

#meteor shower ✧ ooc. #deevis #i drew this btw so i am crediting myself. ok bye #toabaldrsbounty #if this gets cronchy i will be so sad

[old-scalebag]

Continuation from here @melusinezephyr

"I am from Goldoa, a country of dragons. Within the continent of Tellius. Though, I've only lived the majority of my life there..." He paused for a moment. Looking down at the dark beverage he held. Stirring it in contemplation.

"I was born elsewhere. Somewhere that's been swept deep within the ocean for several centuries now." He took a brief sip, His face remained neutral. As if a past tragedy was a simple fact and nothing more to him in this conversation.

"I am Dheginsea, The first and former king of Goldoa. And, you?" He looked at her expectantly. For It did not fail his notice that she had not mentioned her name yet...

#ic #thread #melusinezephyr #toabaldrsbounty #ask to thread

[peerlessscowl]

"You." Laslow stops short, staring at his late night sauna attacker. Which, for the record, was completely unprovoked and incredibly embarrassing fighting in nothing but a towel.

Anyway.

He instinctively turns his waist, so his shoulders instead of his body are facing Raven. Fingers tighten on the drink in his hand. At least he's not being held against a wall, this time.

"Not going to knock the wind out of me tonight, are you?"

Raven assessed the man coolly for a moment, before sighing, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose before he lifted both in a gesture of surrender.

"Peace. I don't mean to attack you. I..." He hadn't meant to then, either. It was a strange moment of tension, of exhaustion, of everything seeming to pile onto him until he bowed from its weight, and then snapped under it.

It was unlike him, just as the guilt that gnawed at him was.

Raven frowned, then bowed lightly. "I apologize. Sincerely. I..."

Another sigh, irritated this time, then

Mulled Wine and Hot Cocoa

"Here." He turned, exposing his back deliberately, a show of trust, and busied his hands for a moment, ladling hot cocoa from the nearby table into two mugs before handing one to the other man, clinking the mugs together gently.

"Peace."

#in character #toabaldrsbounty #interaction: laslow

[luminousrider]

Mulled Wine and Hot Cocoa - They say there’s nothing like sharing a warm drink by the fire the shake off any holiday ennui you might have. So grab a mug and a buddy, and toast to the quiet moments.

Giving a quick look at the table, Minerva immediately noticed that the girl with the cool headband wasn’t in her own table –what a pity! She looked a bit disappointed, but she didn’t lose the opportunity to sneak around and search for her, until she eventually found her nearby the pretty fireplace located on the northern part of the dining room: there were some logs bench perfectly placed in front of the chimney and on one of them, the mysterious lady that complimented her once. She didn’t forget her.

Quickly, she grabbed a couple of glass on a silver traiy nearby, filled with a hot liquid – probably tea – and with a gentle touch, she reached out for her left shoulder and waited for her to turn and greet her, hopefully not bothering her or anything else.

“Here, I hope we can share a moment together” the red-haired woman gently offered the drink, slowly making her way on the log, “How have you been?” she began to sip the liquid, happy for the choice, since it was her taste. “I’ve always wanted to ask you to train sometimes together..” she paused, not sure what to add, “You seem very skilled”

Altena offers a smile as she takes the drink Minerva has brought for her. It doesn't really matter what's in it--she's never been picky. And it's just nice to have a face that isn't super familiar nearby.

And she asks about training. Altena's eyes light up at that. Seems like they have more in common than just their sense of style.

"I'd like that a lot. You have a wyvern too, right? I've seen you around the stables sometimes. Peaches--" She sighs. It never does get easier having to explain her name choice to strangers. "I was a kid when I named her but I'd like to see her make some friends. I know she misses hers back home."

Her wyvern isn't the only one. She thinks about Eda and Deen and Arion and Coirpre and what they would think to see her at a ridiculously over the top party like this.

She thinks about Lloyd too and his attempt to cheer her up and smiles as she thinks about his fun fact. Maybe it would make her seem a little cooler to Minerva. "Hey did you know you can use peach pits to create a poison?"

#I HOPE THEY BECOME FRIENDS #reddragonprincess #toabaldrsbounty

[galercin]

There are plenty of reasons to come to a party like this. Free food, for one. To find those with the loosest lips and hear the local gossip, for another. And of course...

There are so many people here with expensive, valuable items on their person.

Now, Naesala is not about to shy away from a challenge of dexterity, especially one of such low stakes. When he sees that absolutely stunning and beautiful woman alone under the mistletoe, he knows that this is the opening he has been looking for.

Direct, to the point. He comes up to her and smiles. It's not a charming smile; the thing is wry, half baked, and a little mischievous. He looks up at the mistletoe above them and laughs.

"Well, I am a man of tradition. Who am I to say no?"

He leans in, kisses her forehead between her brows -- not so forward to kiss her lips, but wanting to make her feel flustered. It's oddly tender, and he hopes it will have the desired effect. He reaches down, and with feather-light fingers and incredible skill he slips the ring from her finger.

Oh, this will get him a pretty penny, won't it?

He pulls back, smiles at her, and bows a little. His hand slips into his jacket pocket to he does to hide the ring as he smiles. "Naesala of Kilvas, what an honor it is to make your acquaintance."

When he approaches her, he is confident in a vainglorious way. Rinea has no time to reject as she is caught by the sight of gigantic wings of ebony. She sees no fire nor ice around him to denote him fallen and even further from anything deemed holy. A bird then, swooping in for its prey.

She shuts her eyes when he moves closer, not quite rejecting the gesture, but to say she did not flinch slightly when he begins to approach her and not a less offensive part, like her hand, would be a lie.

She expects it to scratch her, in the same way that birds’ talons do when they find you as a perch. They leave red scrapes in the beginning and the points dig into skin, but once they leave, there is no true harm. The kiss to her head is like that, yet where she expects it to leave a mark, she finds none. It is gentler than she gives him credit for and if her heart were not trapped beneath a cage of sorrow and longing for someone else, she might have rewarded his action with a soft flush. 

Her eyes flutter open when he speaks again, that lopsided smile beaming back at her. 

“Rinea… of Rigel,” she lets him have that much. 

“Are all residents from Kilvas this forward,” she levels his own mischievous smile with her own small tilt of her lips, raising a brow slightly, “Or could that be just you?”

…

It is much later that she notices her finger much lighter, when she is packing up what is left of her tin that she brought. The lid clatters to the floor. 

Quickly she begins her search, but never does she suspect anyone but herself to blame for its loss and what’s left of her heart with it.

#(( don't worry naesala she'll invest the monthly skill point in bow... just for you )) #corvuschriisti #toabaldrsbounty #(( also didn't know if u wanted or intended this to be a mini but lmk if u do and i'll take off the last bit haha ))

[melusinezephyr]

Zephia had been enjoying her time in the feast, when she felt a small paw tap on her shoulders. "E-excuse me, Ms..." Yarne didn't know her name. What he did know, was she was scary. What was her name... "Ms... Zelestia, was it?" Crap. That sounded wrong. "Aa-anyways!"

He presented a small couple herbs he picked from the fields around the monastery, prepared in a small design in the shape of a peace sign. "I... made this for everyone here." He stepped back, rubbing his arms. Yarne knew that this party was home to quite a few of the more dangerous members of the academy staff and students, so trying to appease the ones who looked most dangerous or important were the most vital to make sure were enjoying themselves, and not wanting his blood. "So, please... enjoy this, a-and... please keep me off the menu!"

Yarne turned tail (literally), breathing in deeply. That went... awfully... this party's so going to end up with Roast Taguel on the tables...

Zelestia. Wasn't that the name of her counterpart from the world that Lord Rafal came from? How in the world had this... little rabbit come up with that name?

"It's Zephia, sweetheart. Never speak that foul name to me again." She's half tempted to swat him like a bug right then and there, because she can never even bear to think of a world where she was supposedly kind. A world where she was not loyal to her Lord Sombron.

What a digusting thought.

"Keep you off the menu? Darling that hadn't even been a thought that crossed my mind. Why are you... so worried about? I won't... hurt you."

#ic posts #ic: that's enough out of you #supports: want me to make it better? #support: yarne #toabaldrsbounty #inbox: then by all means try #answering asks #taguelbunnyboy #//she fucking hates the idea of zelestia #//never even met her and is like: yeah i'd kill that bitch

[aurheatum]

@divinecrest sent

Sitri lays eyes upon her mother not too long after their separate arrivals, and though she is not surprised to see the Archbishop dressed in her usual garb she finds herself shaking her head all the same. Luckily for them both, the guests present seem to be quite close to one another and the head of the Church does not command the attention she usually would. Which is to say, Sitri can slip into the crowd and reach her mother without anyone taking particular notice, and she does just that. "Given your concerns about joining others for a meal," she says without preamble, leaning in close so nobody can overhear, "you should have thought to dress down. This is a party, not an official function. Really, Mother." She shakes her head again, though her lips curve upwards fondly. She begins to raise a hand, then drops it, instead pressing a quick kiss to Rhea's cheek. "I suppose it is too late to do anything about the robes," she goes on afterwards, now gripping her mother's elbow, "but we are still in time to take off the headdress. Do you realize how much attention this thing draws?" She begins to steer the other woman along without ceremony, for once forgetting to worry about how close they may seem. "Let us find somewhere private and I shall braid your hair half up. You will look perfectly lovely and much more approachable with just the lilies woven into it."

Sitri pauses to look at her mother askance, with a small sigh. "That, and you really ought to spare yourself from the weight of this headdress now and again, Mama. Or spare me, at the least. I worry about the strain it places on you, you know." Reaching to take one of Rhea's hands with her free one and squeeze it, she brightens as a thought comes over her. "I shall give you a massage while we are at it," she decides happily, releasing her mother's hand to wag a finger at her in jest, "and I am not taking complaints."

Rhea has long practiced how to be the person welcoming, so it is odd indeed to find herself instead welcomed; odd but not unpleasant. She is one of the few representing Fodlan at this banquet, but she does not feel so far away from the Jugdrali who fill the seats beside her for whenever she second guesses herself she sees the twinkle of Sir Sigurd’s eye or the smile across from her Seliph wears that so resembles his mother’s and finds herself comforted.

Still, when there is a pause in both the dining and conversation Rhea decides to make her way to the kitchens for it is not often she can tarry there and she is admittedly quite interested as to how some of these foreign dishes are made.

As she stands long waves of hair cascade in front of her as a familiar voice whispers in her ear, and she purses her lips in confusion despite the usual warmth she feels whenever Sitri is near (alive, speaking back finally).

“Do you think so?” She asks, walking arm and arm away from the table as if this was a planned chat; she trusts Sitri to lead them somewhere discreet as only someone as knowledgeable as she of Garreg Mach’s meandering paths can. “Removing it seems… wrong, not in the form of doctrine of course but, well, in practicality. Would not a sudden change in my appearance be just as startling, if not more so?”

She argues despite herself as she lets Sitri make her case. Rhea quite liked her robes, too, but she supposed she could have added a thing or too at least for the holiday. What colors were complimentary to the heraldry of Chalphy? She would have to find out; for if any were to recognize her outside her usual attire she thinks it would be Sir Sigurd.

"The weight seems not so bothersome today, but I see your point,” Rhea tells her, sitting as Sitri sighs over here. “You used to do this for me… before, I remember. And I would be loathe to refuse your expertise, but do let me return the favor at least.”

Still looking up at Sitri, Rhea starts on the first clasp that sets her headdress upright. There is a mirror not far from them but for this Rhea hardly needs it.

#divinecrest #toabaldrsbounty #//catching up. i wuv them

[bxldrsdraumar]

It was pleasant. He was loathe to admit it, and felt his lip twitch upwards in indignation as he found his way to his seat. Ever the perfect gentleman, he pulled back the chair for Deirdre and was about to sit down when he saw him.

Sigurd.

Of course he knew he would be here. It's his damn party after all, but that doesn't make the anger that he felt less potent. As Sigurd sat Arvis locked eyes onto his, his expression not faltering as he grabbed his chair --

-- and dragged it across the floor. Slowly, deliberately. Making it so the sound rang out across the hall, and with a distinctive thump he let the four feet sit nicely on the stone floor. His new seat: the head of the table, directly across from the man who tormented him for too long. He hoped that when Sigurd looks upon his face he sees someone better than him. Someone who won.

He smiled, a devilish sort of expression, and sat down in his chair. He ignored any looks or murmurs that might have come from this, and crossed his legs as he looked again at Sigurd.

Let the game begin.

They'd tried to be conscientious with the seating arrangement - as much as they could, for such a large party, anyway - but there were some concessions neither he, nor Ethlyn, had been prepared to make.

With the matter of the Velthomers, Ethlyn had been firm - she didn't want them there, and if they must come, then let them be far away from their families. Sigurd couldn't disagree, much as it sank barbs into his heart - for what was Deirdre if not family? the mother of his son? - and agreed that they could enjoy themselves at his table, where he could keep an eye on them.

He would be at the head, after all, and would be able to see if they were enjoying themselves, or disdainful and prepared to cause a scene. He hoped not, but he'd been at less refined dinner events.

Their last meeting had ended in a manner less than civil, but even so Sigurd did not expect that Lord Arvis would have done anything rash or horrid to mess up such a lively - densely populated - event.

And so he did keep an eye out, the corner of his eye specifically, while focusing on the things that mattered at the moment: his family, and his friends, were here, with him, and they were happy. He gave Seliph's hand a squeeze, he laughed along to his own joke as he regaled Ayra, and he pressed a drink insistently into Edain's hands.

The screeeeeeech and thump sounded clear in the acoustics of the hall, and his eyes flickered up from his family to find the issue -

Ah, merely Lord Arvis, adjusting his chair.

Strange man.

- before he went back to beaming at those he loved most.

#in character #toabaldrsbounty #interaction: valflaame #ARDEN THIS IS SO FUNNY I LOVE THIS

[carmennivis]

Arts and Drafts

Decorations - Tinsel, garlands of popcorn-and-cranberries, and wreaths and cornucopias galore - what’s a party without decorations? Help the hosts with some last minute sprucing up, or make a decoration of your own to liven up your dorm.

@old-scalebag

Nils had just wrapped up a performance, a lively impromptu concert where he played his flute, danced and even sang a little. It was a lot of fun- various people even donated some gold to him! That’ll go into his snack funds, he knew the local butchery would be selling their old cuts for cheap soon…

Looking around for any more fun activities, his eyes settled on what appears to be an arts and crafts table of sorts. Various partygoers were seated, all meticulously stringing, cutting and weaving various festive ornaments. It looked like a fun activity, and many of the people seated there had easy smiles on their faces. At least, most of them. There was one man, a rather imposing figure with a stern expression, looking over the people.

He recognized the man during his performance too- whereas the audience all had varying happy expressions, some even dancing along, he never saw the man crack so much as a smile. Something like that shouldn’t bother him of course, but it did hurt his pride as an entertainer.

To that end he approached the table, curious about the man. “Good evening, sir..! I do hope you’re enjoying the festivities.” He said, his voice having a practiced easygoing tone to it. When he got closer though, he felt it. The aura of a dragon. A powerful one, at that. It was already too late to pull away though. He’d just have to hope that his own draconic energy was weak enough to escape the man’s notice. (And it was quite weak, being both a runt of a dragon and a half-blood would do that to you.)

“I couldn’t help but notice you looking on at the crafting table.. would you perhaps want to partake in the fun? I’m sure it would be an enjoyable time…!” He offered with a smile.

#toabaldrsbounty #(support: let’s liven things up!) #old-scalebag #(Dheginsea) #thread: arts and drafts

[frauleindermorgen]

@laslow sent: The seat on his right is empty, for now, so he takes the chance to eye the striking woman a mere space away from him. Briefly, he considers swapping spots. No one would know, right? But perhaps that's coming on a little too strong. Laslow clears his throat, casually placing an elbow on the arm rest. "Hel-lo down there! I cannot believe we haven't yet had the pleasure of meeting. You shine as brightly as these candles, you know!" A nervous laugh as he extends his hand. "Laslow, assistant sword professor of Blue Lions house."

She will greet Reyson, really; especially as she sees he’s seated not far from her but after everything Daien has done, even if not of (all) her peoples’ own volition, it still seems so daunting a task. Naesala is with him, at least; and as engaged in conversation as they are Micaiah finds herself able to look away politely to see who else sits near her.

The someone else greets her first with a bright smile, twinkling eyes, and a compliment that seems genuine; the comparison is amusing (though she supposes it makes sense with how reflective her hair can be) though so she laughs behind one hand before giving him the other to shake.

“Laslow, it is my pleasure as well. I am Micaiah of Daien, and ah... swordplay is your specialty then? Perhaps that explains why we have not crossed paths. I am quite terrible at the art but there are many dear to me who possess the talent. I would love to attend one of your classes one day!”

#laslow #toabaldrsbounty #//btw sam i keep forgetting ur url for this guy is literally his name so tagging was fun for this #//i like this set up but also.... i want to see sylvain or laslow just flirt with micaiah right in front of sephiran. funny...

[ladyleonster]

Decorations - Tinsel, garlands of popcorn-and-cranberries, and wreaths and cornucopias galore - what’s a party without decorations? Help the hosts with some last minute sprucing up, or make a decoration of your own to liven up your dorm.

"Lady Ethlyn! What do you think? I've spruced up my lance with some of your festive decorations!--"

"--Before you fret, the tinsel and ornaments weren't lifted anywhere they were needed--"

"--But anyways, I thought I'd come to you for help in naming my role for tonight. I was thinking Holiday Knight, though I believe some twist on the word 'cavalier' could also suit me!"

"Hmm~" Ethlyn makes a show of tapping her chin in thought though she is unable to hide the grin she sports. "It's missing something, don't you think?"

She reaches into her pocket and pulls out the sprig of mistletoe she surprised Quan with earlier in the evening. There isn't a reason for her to hold onto it anymore and she isn't sure why she kept carrying it around. Using one of the brightly colored ribbons already adorning Sain's lance, she affixes the berries right in the center. "There. Now it suits you perfectly, don't you think?"

Ethlyn laughs and gives him a playful pat on the back. "Now get out there and have some fun, Holiday Knight. But if you get yourself into too much trouble I'm denying all of my involvement!"

#IM SO SORRY WOMEN #enarmor #WHAT THE FUCK THIS WAS SO CUTE L #toabaldrsbounty

[valflaame]

jakob casts a glance around, cloth folded over right arm and stood dutifully in place. the hallway is quiet, just the two of them. good. he speaks quietly. "lord leo and lord camilla will be beside me at this table. they are nohrian royalty. in fact, lady camilla is next in line for the crown were anything to befall king xander," which is to say, it is unlikely. but it pays to tell him, to make him aware of the importance of the fact. "they are not my lords nor lady. i respond only to my liege, but i've still taken an oath to the nohrian royal family as is . . ."

a pause. "that isn't to say, i have not had my disagreements with some royalty. because i have." oh, camilla.

back on topic. "nohrians prize being stern or a stalwart leader. we enjoy brutality, coldness and the dark. lord leo is the bookish type, perhaps you ought to ask him about brynhildr if you desire to form some decent relations between my kingdom and yours... lady camilla is generally talkative and you'll find no issue in speaking to her."

at that, he turns his head back to the table. "i'm only telling you this as your.. friend," and even the words come out a bit difficult. "because i had thought you'd see it as important to form some relationship with foreign royalty."

jakob waits a moment, before looking away. it still felt weird to directly call someone that. he takes a step back with a curt bow, before heading back to the light of the hallway. "or don't talk to them. i don't care," jakob is always quick to seal over brief acts of kindness with that blunt edge of his. "it's no bother to me."

at that, he leaves.

Arvis is not surprised that Jakob tells him of the internal politics of Nohr. That he offers suggestions. That he speaks with Arvis plainly, no frills attached. He's warning him, in part, but giving him opportunities to expand his reach.

Jakob is honest. It's refreshing.

"Thank you," he says, and feels his brows furrow as Jakob calls him 'friend'. He supposes they are now, aren't they? He cares about him -- more than others he's met, and certainly more than he cares to admit. It feels nice to have someone like that.

Deirdre would be so pleased if she knew.

"I will take your words to heart. It is good to interact with foreign royalty; it makes it easier when one has powerful allies, does it not?"

A pause. He looks at Jakob's outfit, how he stands with all the formalities befitting of a servant of Lord Corrin. Arvis frowns, just a slight imperceptible thing as he reaches out and adjusts the broach that holds up his friend's cravat. "Slightly askew," he says, teasing. Light. Almost boyish. "Consider my watching out for you an apology for the sub-par tea I've brought. I've heard you were bringing a Nohrian blend, I cannot wait to try."

He lets him go, motions for him to lead. "After you."

#i will change this world for the better ✧ ic. #verge of a new era ✧ answered. #support ✧ indevouement. #toabaldrsbounty