ACCURSED

ashenprofessor​:

The Shadow Titanus turned it attention on the Professor after witnessing her attacking it’s counterpart. Summoning a wicked looking blade with black shadows swirling along it’s length, it lunged for her side. 

Roll: 14 = 12!     Hit!      Damage: 2.5HP      [Byleth: 6.5/10 HP]

The sword slices along her exposed side causing her to grit her teeth to block out the pain. Before it has the chance to retreat out of range, Byleth swings in with a tow swift punches to it’s shoulder.

Roll: 7 (-4) = 3!     Hit!              Damage: 5HP      [Shadow Titanus: 33/38 HP] Roll: 3 (-4) = 19!   Critical Hit! Damage: 8HP      [Shadow Titanus: 25/38 HP]

The second hit connected with enough force to make the Shadow Titanus take a few paces back. Darting under its large form, Byleth made her escape. Safely back with her team, she thought the enemies were done. However, both of them suddenly glowed before releasing waves of energy at them all. Joint pain erupted through out her body as a shot first of magical damage then physical hit her like a 1-2 punch. 

Byleth takes 3 damage from Purge of Worlds.    [Byleth: 3.5/10 HP] Byleth takes 2 damage from Pain of Eternity      [Byleth: 1.5/10 HP] Blyeth is inflicted with VOID

Once the attacks were over, Byleth made her way over to Marianne. She felt a lot weaker than at the start of the round and hope the Golden Deer student may be able to help. Once alongside the healer, Byleth said quietly. “I think I may be in need of some assistance please”

@premiersoleil​

By some miracle or blessing from the goddess herself, Marianne escapes their foes’ barrage of attacks unscathed, though she fears the same cannot be said for all of her allies. A steady stream of magic is already alight at her fingertips by the time the professor arrives at her side.

[ ROLL D20: 7, +6 HP! ]   Marianne uses Fortify and heals her allies for 6HP.

“Do not worry, professor,” Marianne murmurs, though the tremor in her voice surely betrays her own concern. “Do not worry...” She is unsure if the words are for her or the professor, but Marianne is so tired of failing. Of the stakes being death again and again, of having to watch her companions beat within an inch of their lives, of having to heal them, of having to watch it happen once more.

And even then, they do not know if it will be enough. If after all they have suffered, everyone shall emerge in Garreg Mach Monastery whole and alive.

A hand extends toward Tana and Ferdinand, tendrils of light stretching, reaching toward them. A hope and a prayer that she will not be too late. Not this time, not again. She will not live only to have her allies collapse around her, to have her remaining companions turn into corpses.

ashenprofessor​:

“Got it Tana” Having been refreshed by Tana, Byleth wasted now time in making a break for it and finishing off the Void Heart which was getting more transparent as the illusion took damage. 

Byleth heals 1 HP     [Byleth: 10/10 HP] Roll: 18 (+2) = 20!     Hit!  Damage: 4HP      [Void Heart: 0.5/38 HP] Roll: 11 (+2) = 13!     Hit! Damage: 4HP       [Void Heart: 0/38 HP]

With a faint pop the illusion dissipated into thin air as the second hit from her plated fists. Without even pausing to celebrate, Byleth turns her attention to the next target. The Metal Giant on the left was closest so that’s the one she hit. Pushing off the sand, Byleth leapt in the air to deliver a quick jab to the shoulder followed up by a hook round the side of head. 

Roll: 14 (+2) = 16!     Hit! Damage: 5HP      [Light Titanus: 33/38 HP] Roll: 3 (+2) = 5!         Hit! Damage: 5HP      [Light Titanus: 28/38 HP] Byleth takes 1 HP damage from Poison     [Byleth: 9/10 HP]

Job done for now, Byleth rejoined her team. “I hope you found that satisfactory” She said to Tana. “Whatever that dance you did was, it worked”

@cruelsfate​

Poison courses through her companions’ veins—she senses the vile intrusion as surely as she hears her heartbeat thundering in her ears. There is nary a moment to waste when it comes to ridding them of the toxin now ailing them, though it hardly seems to have impacted their combat abilities. She has just barely processed the new enemies materialized before them before one is turned to little more than dust.

Marianne uses Restore on Byleth. Byleth is no longer poisoned.

Quietly, she creeps to the professor’s side, summoning every lesson she’s been given on poisons to the forefront of her mind. To separate toxin from blood, identify the intrusion and banish it before it can do more harm. It is a spell she has seen practiced before, a spell that has saved her and her allies from the slow death that poison brings.

Marianne clasps her hands together, steadying her own breathing. Her eyes flutter shut as she waves away the noise of the battlefield, focusing instead on what she cannot see. Goddess, guide my hand...

There is no warning as the arena changes and their surroundings are moulded into something new. Haukritos crumbles into nothingness, all their efforts and struggles against the mechanical beast rendered useless as the shadows shift into new phantoms, rising from the ground like ghosts.

Wordless, a hand curls into a fist as the mage watches in trepidation. Two of the phantoms wear a mimicry of the uniform of an army recruit, the sword and axe they respectively wield a little plain, if not for the poison upon their edges. The third, however...what words has she to describe it? Like a beast summoned from the depths of the eternal flames, it is the sort of sight that could not be explained in any tongue known to man.

[ ROLL D20: 13, +8 HP! ]   Marianne uses Fortify and heals her allies for 8HP. Live to Serve activates! Marianne heals herself for 8HP.

“Goddess,” she murmurs, light spilling forth from her fingers in waves, “please, guide my hand.” A brilliant, blinding glow swirls throughout the arena, erasing what injuries marred her allies’ skins with a faint flare. A deep breath in—to calm and steel herself. A heavy exhale—one of determination, acceptance.

When last she faced a phantom bearing a poisoned blade, all those moons ago at Garreg Mach, it had been her blade that struck the final blow. And when the shadows parted and revealed a corpse where there had once been nothing but a phantom, when Marianne realized that she had killed...

She had killed...

Her brows draw together. How strange, that she can no longer seem to recall the student’s name, and grim is the smile that pulls at the edge of her lips at the thought. How awful for her, to have fallen upon the blade of a murderer who can no longer remember her victim’s name.

Regardless, Marianne cannot do it again. She will not.

Tendrils of light continue to sweep in slow, lazy circles throughout the illusory space, waiting patiently for her to beckon them back. Marianne’s voice raises, just a little, even as her head dips. “Please do not worry about your injuries. I will do my best to tend to them.”

ashenprofessor​:

They’d survived their first onslaught from the enemy team but not completely unscathed. The priority was taking out that minion so they could focus their attacks on the main boss. 

Byleth heals 1HP    [Byleth: 9/10 HP]

Watching Ferdinand’s attack miss only riled the Professor up more as the minion cheekily flew out the way of the arrow. Letting out a growl of frustration Byleth flew in close, intending to punch it’s lights out.  

Roll: 20(-4) = 17!     Critical hit!     Damage: 4HP      [Haukritos Minion: 0/17 HP]

The creature didn’t stand a chance in the face of her fury. It only took one blow for the Minion to loose conscious and drop to the floor. She wondered briefly if any of her teammates caught it.  “That’s for Tana” She called after it.

With one target down, she turned her attention to Haukritios itself. The great hulking monster glared back at her intimidatingly. But her pride as a Mercenary was on the line, so she manoeuvred in close, intending to punch them as well.

Roll: 20 = 19!     Critical hit!    Damage: 4HP      [Haukritos: 47/51 HP]

The hit connected and was a powerful one. A solid reverse punch to the shoulder. Haukritos merely shrugged it off before swiping at her with their talons.

Roll: 20 = 12!      Hit!    Damage: 1.5HP      [Byleth: 8.5/10 HP]

Byleth flew back towards the ground to help defend their stunned teammate. However, as she went, Haukritios lifted one of it’s feet and brought it down, catching her unaware. 

Byleth takes 1 Damage [Byleth: 7.5/10 HP]

“One less to worry about now” She said to the others, trying to spin the upcoming challenge in a positive light. 

@freliana

A choked cry catches in her throat, a breathtaking blow delivered to her stomach before it can escape, a second not too far behind. The air quite literally knocked from her body, her lungs struggle for air, but find no recourse. Yet a trembling hand raises to cast, even as she feels she might fold over, and an icy wind breezes through the illusory realm, a herald of the magic building at her fingertips.

Jagged spikes of ice burst forth from the ground where she aims, but none strike the mechanical beast that stands as their foe. Marianne steadies her aim, wills the ice to follow her half-hearted command, but the spell falters before long, leaving her with a lingering sense of cold that always takes far too long to shake off.

[ ROLL 2D20: 3, 15, HIT, HIT! ]   Haukritos attacks Marianne for 3 damage.  ( Marianne: 6.5/10 HP ) [ ROLL D20: 4, MISS! ]   Marianne attacks Haukritos and misses.  ( Haukritos: 51/51 HP ) Marianne takes 1 damage from Trample after combat.  ( Marianne: 5.5/10 HP )

The retreat feels embarrassing after such a pitiful display of her magic, but Marianne trusts the steady glow of a healing spell to answer her call, if nothing else shall. She stumbles a step, perhaps two, as she returns to her companions, beckoning the spell forth as she clasps her hands together at Tana’s side, washing both the student and her equine companion in its light.

[ ROLL D20: 7, +6 HP! ]   Marianne heals Tana for 6HP.  ( Tana: 10/10 HP )

She knows not if whatever prayers she whispers here will reach the goddess from this illusory cage, but she prays them all the same under her breath. Tried and true prayers for safety and protection—for if she can do little more than keep them standing with her faith, perhaps the goddess might instead deliver the salvation that she wishes she could offer them.

freliana​:

“Lady Lindgren!? Lord Aegir!?” Tana scoffs as the words leave her mouth. Ferdinand sounds too much like her brother for comfort. “How pretentious! I’m hurt, too Ferdie. You make it sound like we’re not friends. You simply can’t battle phantoms with someone and not gain a sense of camraderie and companionship!”

“Thank you though, for weakening that archer for me. Despite my other complaints, I really do appreciate your concern.”

With their professor healed up, Tana flies behind her, keeping just out of the bowman’s range. It’s clear they’re very skilled, even after Byleth’s onslaught leaves them battered and bruised, they draw an arrow back. For her. Even at close range, a talented archer can do a lot of damage to an airbound knight. Not prepared to take a risk, Tana approaches with great care, gripping her lance tightly until her knuckles turn white.

One sure strike should be enough to finish them off. It had to be swift and precise though, lest she leave herself open to crashing to the ground. With a deep breath, Tana gathered her courage and urged her pegasus forwards.

Tana uses Hit and Run against Archer A. Roll d20: 11! Hit. Archer A takes 2.5 damage

Archer A has been defeated.

She does not have to dart wildly to safety. The archer, the biggest threat to her, falls to her lance, dissipating into the aether. With a calescent grin she returns to her allies, chest puffed out with a sense of accomplishment.

“Well that’s one enemy down! This’ll be easy peasy if we keep working together!”

It is impossible to hide the wince that crosses her face as the phantoms mimic their own tactics, turning their spears upon the professor. What injuries had been wiped away just moments before are now replaced with new ones, and Marianne cannot summon back the healing magic that just receded from her fingertips fast enough, rushing to Professor Byleth’s aid.

[ ROLL D20: 11, +8 HP! ]   Marianne heals Byleth for 8HP.  ( Byleth: 9/10 HP )

She knows that some healers offer reassurances to their patients, soothing them not just with spells, but with their words, too. Still, Marianne has always done her best work quietly, trusting her magic to speak when her voice should shake. Her breath feels caught in her lungs, held there as her heart beats like the flutter of a frantic butterflies caged in her chest.

Only when the professor’s injuries wash away with the light does she exhale, pulling away. Ferdinand and Tana’s injuries are minimal for the moment, though she keeps a careful watch on them nonetheless. Her own strengths when it comes to an actual battle are few, she is well aware, so she shall do her best to bolster her allies instead.

The last of their phantom foes vanishes into nothing before they might turn their gazes upon it, a new hoard of enemies taking their place. Where she had once been armed with nothing but the magic stirring in her blood, a spear materializes, fitting perfectly into the palms of her hands. She gives it an experimental twirl, then sets it aside. 

“Allow me to see to your injuries once more,” she murmurs to the professor, head already bowed in prayer as she summons the light of a healing spell to wash over her. The movements are practiced, routine, performed almost without a second thought. This time, bruises and cuts fade away entirely with the light.

[ ROLL D20: 1, +5 HP! ]   Marianne heals Byleth for 5HP.  ( Byleth: 10/10 HP )

With a satisfied dip of her head, Marianne takes a step back to survey their new battlefield. An armored knight, an archer, and a pegasus knight...the last phantom, she cannot place. Perhaps a brawler? With a passing glance she can only note the gauntlets that adorn their fists, but nothing else. All of them threats to be certain, but now that Tana sits astride a pegasus of her own, she eyes the archer warily. Her place on the battlefield is not that of a tactician, but even she knows well how easily a well-aimed arrow could clip her wings.

premiersoleil​:​

“Professor!” Ferdinand cries out as the recruit and myrmidon both besiege the Ashen Demon, and although she holds her own and endures the attacks well, even delivering her own, she still emerges much worse for the wear. Before the ginger can come to her aid, the commoner enemy targets him.

Roll Commoner A: 10. Hit! Damage dealt: 1. Ferdinand: 8.5/12 HP

Roll counter: 12. Hit! Damage dealt: 2. Commoner A: 3.5/8 HP

His opponent’s sword scores a gash along his side, but Ferdinand takes the chance to slam the point of his lance in the commoner’s gut. Clutching his side, the young noble retreats with a huff. At least he has yet to replicate his embarrassing failure from early on in the fight, he consoles himself. A firm hand crashes between his shoulder blades, and the Black Eagle tenses up before sensing the allied presence behind him. Then he registers what she called him and sputters, outraged. “‘Nando?!’ Lady Lindgren, I implore you not to address me as such! I am either Ferdinand or Lord Aegir, but only those two terms may be used to refer to me!” He pauses in consideration. “… Although I… understand that in times of urgency, a shortened name or nickname may be preferable, in which case I deem the use of ‘Ferdie’ acceptable—hey, wait a moment!”

Too late, for the Golden Deer has darted out and blasted the enemy myrmidon with magic. Ferdinand sighs; it seems in the midst of his rant she was attempting to convey her strategy to him. As Tana has divested the swordsman illusion of a good amount of his health, the Aegir heir notes that it would be all too easy to finish him off, weak as he is now. But, “Nandino?!”

Roll Steel Lance: 13. Hit! Damage dealt: 2. Myrmidon A: 0/8 HP

Myrmidon A has been defeated!

"For the last time,” the ginger grits out, “my name,” he slashes his lance at the myrmidon, shattering the projection into so many particles of fine light, before turning to face the princess again, “is Ferdinand von Aegir!”

@ashenprofessor​ or @cruelsfate

“Professor!” comes her third, panicked cry, joining the voices of her companions. Tana is swifter on her feet than the healer, bracing the professor with an arm as Marianne hurries to join them. Her head bows dutifully as the other student voices her request, then skips off to join Ferdinand in dealing with the remainder of their foes.

[ ROLL D20: 9, +2 HP! ]   Marianne heals Byleth for 2HP.  ( Byleth: 5/10 HP )

True to her word, Tana proves to be just fine—more than fine, even, as Marianne catches the tail-end of a Nosferatu spell upon raising her head. Something stirs at her call for her own magic, wrapping the professor in its warm glow.

It feels like it will never be enough. Even as some bruises and scrapes fade, the overwhelming majority of them remain to mark skin. Everything helps, Marianne reminds herself, like a prayer. It helped; even just a little bit, she helped. Still, “Sorry, professor,” slips from her mouth, an old habit worn until it became second nature. Her head lowers, this time in something that is almost embarrassment. She should be better than this. “If you’ll allow me a moment, I can try again.”

premiersoleil​:

“Right! I understand!” Tana’s encouragement sends fiery determination through his veins, and he makes to deliver a slash at the appointed opponent.

Roll Steel Lance: 17. Hit! Damage dealt: 2. Monk B: 3.5/8 HP

Roll counter: 6. Hit! Damage dealt: 0.5. Ferdinand: 9.5/12 HP

This time his lance hits the mark, and the ginger beams as the monk staggers away from him. Although the magic-user’s follow-up punch also hits its mark, Ferdinand barely feels it, though he likely acquired a bruise from the blow. Grinning, the young heir turns to Marianne. “Your turn! I believe you can finish him off, but if not, our fearless professor should be sure to put him to rest!”

@cruelsfate​

“Oh! Um, I will certainly do my best.” Her companions’ resolves suddenly steeled, Marianne shall endeavor to do her best to live up to the expectations now set for her. Tana and Ferdinand land their hits with barely a scratch received in retaliation. She fears that she may not share in their reflexes, but mage could fight at a distance just as well as they could up close.

[ ROLL D20: 12, HIT! ]   Marianne attacks Monk B for 1.5 damage.  ( Monk B: 2/8 HP ) Marianne heals for 1.5 HP.  ( Marianne: 9.5/10 HP )

It takes a moment longer to steady her aim, but she does not falter. Magic manifests, its gentle glow cupped within her palms then thrust forward, sent flying toward the other mage. The phantom stumbles, but does not fall.

Marianne grimaces. Her best clearly wasn’t good enough yet.

“I’m sorry,” she offers, pitifully. Ferdinand’s faith in her, for all that she hoped otherwise, was misplaced. Still, the professor should be able to finish the monk off now.

premiersoleil​:

Finding his classmates trapped within a book is not quite how Ferdinand expected his time at the academy to go, but let it be said that he would never turn down a request for aid; such is no different here. What is more noble than risking one’s life to save that of another? Though he cannot imagine what could possibly endanger the others here, it… would be wise not to assume their presence within the book prevents them from harm. He counts himself fortunate that he finds himself amongst a party including the famed Ashen Demon and the daughter of Margrave Edmund, in addition to one of their Golden Deer classmates.

“Excellent! Well done!” he cheers at the lady with the sapphire blue hair as she delivers a swift strike towards one of their opponents. Although the enemy returns in kind, he cannot deny the effectiveness of her hit, and the success rouses his excitement. “Allow me to make my own follow-up—!”

Roll Steel Lance: 1?! Miss! Recruit A: 5.5/8 HP

Roll counter: 18! Hit! Damage dealt: 2. Ferdinand: 10/12 HP

Except that when the ginger swings his lance at the enemy, a gust of wind blows his bangs across his face. In the attempt to brush the offending strands out of his eyes, Ferdinand misses his opponent entirely, for what else could the weapon slicing through thin air only to strike at the ground mean? He pays for his mistake immediately as the enemy seizes the chance to stab him in the back. “Agh! Aah…” Retreating back to his group, the young noble gives them a smile that is more awkward, pained grimace. “My apologies… I was too hasty and paid too little attention to my environment.”

@ashenprofessor​ or @cruelsfate​

Amidst the scramble for weapons before they are beset upon by their foes, Marianne earns her companions names—Professor Byleth’s and Ferdinand’s, she is familiar with; Tana’s she learns in a swift introduction. It almost looks like an entire armory has been emptied into the arena, and they do not lack for options to aid them in their fight.

Still, her gaze drifts over it all, a hand flexing as the familiar rush of magic rises to answer her call.

Twice, her companions attempt attacks on the lancer; twice, they fall upon its lance in return. As Ferdinand retreats, Marianne steps forward wordlessly, spell already at her fingertips. To aid their trapped classmates and return them to monastery grounds, they must first be rid of these phantom characters. To that end, she will try her best.

[ ROLL D20: 7, HIT! ]   Marianne attacks Recruit A for 1.5 damage.  ( Recruit A: 4/8 HP ) [ ROLL D20: 6, HIT! ]   Recruit A attacks Marianne for 2 damage.  ( Marianne: 8/10 HP )

Thrice, she and her companions attempt attacks on the lancer; thrice, they fall upon its lance in return. Her aim is true—Nosferatu lands with all the force she can muster—but her foe strikes back with a vengeance, a pained cry slipping from her lips as she falls back to rejoin her team.

this is kind of long because i am unfortunately unable to shut up and be concise so wanted plots are under the cut! i’m also in an au kind of mood so i’ve got some au plots shoved alongside the mission board if anyone is perhaps inch rested. the drill is same as usual, feel free to ping me in the server or dm me if you would like to thread c:

“…you want to take a photo with me?” The are you sure is unsaid, yet painfully implied in the tension of her movement, the slight shift of her gaze away from the other. It is hardly as though she dislikes Petra—certainly not by any means—only that they have barely spoken at all, and Marianne cannot fathom for what reason she would approach her amongst the sea of students and faculty alike.

But eventually, though her voice might be small and just a little unsure, she says, “All right.”

After all, why not? Why not? Her collection of photos so far, small but treasured still, can stand to grow a little more. Marianne shuffles closer to Petra as the projectionist waves them into the photo-artifex's frame, a small smile tugging at her lips.

When Petra turns a presses a quick kiss to her cheek, Marianne cannot help the startled jolt of her body at the sudden touch.

“Sorry,” she immediately says, eyes wide. “I, um. You caught me off guard. I'm sorry.” The grimace has already painted itself upon her features even before the photo is handed to them. It is far from the most flattering one of the night, her expression frozen in surprise, but she clutches it tight as she has with all the others.

A strange, cryptic letter slides beneath your door in the middle of the night telling you to search a nearby forest. One message leads to the next, and then again to the next, and so on. Do they lead to treasure or to trouble? Is someone having a laugh at your expense, or is it perhaps someone with information concerning the conflict? It might even simply be an adventurous spirit at play. Whatever the case, a lead is a lead. Leave no stone unturned.

It’s the second letter she’s found now — the first slipped under her door, this one tucked under a vase in the hall — and she finds herself no closer to tracking down the original sender. Another vague sentence is scrawled upon its surface; she draws closer with a candle in hand to make out the writing, and she breathes a frustrated noise as she turns it over to find the other side blank. Was that it?

It isn’t too late. Marianne can still turn away now, retire to her room and rest before the sun starts to creep across the horizon and there is no time for sleep at all. Yet there’s a quiet voice, buried somewhere in the back of her mind, whispering to go. What awaits her in that borrowed bedroom but the unbearable ticking of time echoing in her head, a long hour spent staring at a boring ceiling until sleep comes to drag her under?

Perhaps this is the adventure that she’s been waiting for, the kind she thought only existed in books. Make for the heart of the forest to find the answers that you seek, the letter reads, written in the same penmanship as the first, as though it were some proper mystery and not just a crumpled piece of parchment slipped under her door. A hand twitches at her side, reaching for the place where Blutgang would be sheathed had she brought it along for this misadventure. A crutch, in recent times, that bone sword. Sometimes, a piece of her heart ached to be parted from it — and she has half a mind, even now, to turn around to go fetch it, if only to have the comforting weight of it hanging from its hip.

But she knows herself too well. If she were to return to her rooms, it would not be long before she convinced herself to submit to a cup of tea and a book by candlelight instead, or even to bed entirely. So, her steps may slow but they do not falter and Marianne makes for the staircase with a sigh.

It’s peaceful here, even if she knows it will not last long.

Hands clasp together—but not in prayer, no, not yet; she needs to think still—mage silhouetted in the night as she abandons her silent watch from the shadows to finally drift forward, stepping out into the moonlight. The legend of the Goddess Tower that a wish made on the night of the ball between man and woman would almost certainly come true attracts believers and non-believers alike to its peak. If she is to count herself among them tonight, she is not yet sure.

At any rate, one is likely not meant to find loopholes in the legends, but Marianne cautiously approaches the little bird she finds waiting for her upon the railing regardless. “Hello,” she says gently, “can I borrow you for a moment?” If the goddess would accept a bird in place of a man is another matter entirely—and one that she doubts, in all honesty. Maybe, she thinks, she doesn’t want it to work. Maybe it is a sign.

Do not change your prayer, Marianne, is perhaps what the goddess is trying to say. Be patient. Your wish will be granted soon.

Yet she finds instead that fear grips her chest at the thought, crawling up her throat as it has every time recently that she’s acknowledged this prayer. The same plea she has offered time and time again since that night four years ago, when everything she had known to be constant was torn away from her reach. Take me to you, take me to your side.

Marianne swallows. It is not a prayer she has made recently. “What am I doing?” she murmurs to her avian friend. The laugh that slips from her lips is shaky, a sad sort of smile curving at her mouth. “You don’t know either, right? ...ah, never mind me. You look hungry. Here, I have something for you.” Except a hand reaches for a pocket that is not there, hand only curling into cloth. There is the excuse she has been searching for herself, one to let her leave without making a wish after all. Another justification for her to run from confronting the small seed of doubt buried in her chest. “Hm...maybe I can find something in my room. Do you want to come with—?”

She turns, and her eyes widen just a fraction, face flushing at the realization that she is no longer alone. “Er, Dimitri!” she all but squeaks in her surprise. Maybe you should change your wish after all, a traitorous voice whispers in her ear, except it seems to sound like her own. Maybe this is a sign. “Were you here for...” she starts, but quickly falters. He’s alone as far as she can see—perhaps he is not here for the legend then? Marianne cannot imagine that he would have any difficulty finding someone to accompany him if he were. “Sorry,” she says instead. “I’m not in your way, am I? I wasn’t planning to stay for long...”

"Incoming!"

It's a warning offered in earnest, the giggled word parted quite generously from the nefarious attack it portended. Regardless of whether Maria catches Marianne's back or her side, the little lion laughs into her friend's shoulder.

"Have you tried the cookies yet? They're really tasty!" Only a smile marks the wordless gift of a lily of the valley pressed into her hands. "But you know, I bet they're even yummier when I get to eat them with my sparkly friend. Hee hee, Marianne, you're even prettier today!"

“Incoming—?”

The furrow of her brow deepens at the offered warning, the mage half-turned at the familiar voice, though neither surprise nor confusion color her features, exactly. A life lived observing the dirt rather her surroundings means that Marianne is good with voices—better with them, she might argue, than she is with faces—and this one is, well...

Laughter rings out from the girl now clinging to her side, a slight twitch at the corner of her mouth betraying her own amusement. It is Maria, of course; she can think of no one else among her acquaintances who would do such a thing. “Ah, I haven't,” she answers, then makes a mental note for herself to stop by the food and drink later to try them. Her gaze falls to the flower pressed into her hands momentarily, then rises again to her friend’s face. “Oh...you're very pretty too, Maria. I like your dress.”

“And thank you,” she murmurs, “for the flower.” For remembering, for thinking of me, for a reminder of my mother and father. A beat passes, then, “Um, will you take a photo with me?” And how ridiculous it is: Marianne, who can barely stand the sight of herself in the mirror, wanting to take a photo? Her past self wouldn't recognize her, she's sure.

"I am sadly unable to match your beautiful braids. But I tried!"

Realization strikes late. Dimitri is already half-turned toward her before it finally occurs to her why he'd been fiddling with his hair—and, well. It is indeed a sad comparison to her own braids, as he says, but with hair as short as his own, it is a good attempt. One hand reaches toward his hair before she catches herself, pressing instead against her mouth to cover the curl of her lips.

“Yes, you did,” she concurs, smile in her voice. “I—pfft...I'm sorry, Dimitri. I promise that it's very good. Maybe if you grew your hair out a little more...” The photo-artifex is still set up in front of them from their first photo, the machine a little daunting, admittedly, though its results could not be denied. The proof of it sits just a little ways off on a nearby table.

She likes their first photo, the two of them smiling with a stuffed horse between them. And—oh, she thinks. She likes it because she looks happy. Marianne never looks happy in any of her portraits—it's tiring, she complained when she was little, having to sit still for so long—but a piece of magic has given her this in mere seconds.

(Distantly, she tries to remember the last time she saw her own smile. It must have been a long time ago; she doesn't make a habit of spending time in front of the mirror when she can help it.

And again, she wonders if she is allowed to have this.)