POOR, PRETTY PRINCESS.

amitieos​:

Elincia rushes to Nanna’s side, a hand reaching out for the younger woman’s shoulder. Silently, she curses herself for not bringing any healing spells with her. She holds on to Nanna, not wishing to let her charge forth into the fray whilst already wounded. How would she face her friend, Lachesis, if she allowed harm to come to Nanna.

The princess is strong and stubborn though, insistent she can use her sword to heal herself. Elincia doesn’t doubt the Land Sword’s power, nor it’s wielder’s skill. It’s just an incredibly risky manoeuvre, one that could leave Nanna more injured at the end of it. If only her for couldn’t retaliate…

Elincia is struck with an idea.

“Hang back a second. Let me try something first.” Crimea’s queen states plainly, not divulging her plan just yet. It might not work, not correctly, but the stunning technique she learned back home might just come in handy right now. “Now let’s see, just wear is your weak point?”

She circles around Melanthios in mid air, recalling the pressure points she’d memorised long ago. Scanning to see which was most exposed, most likely to leave the Dark Bishop frozen and vulnerable, at least for a little while. It takes a moment or so, but she zeros in on her target and dives down, Amiti raised high.

“You’re in the palm of my hand.” 

Roll d20: 16! Hit! Elincia deals 4.5 damage to Melanthios. Melanthios is stunned for one round and cannot move or attack. Roll 2d20: 7, 7! Two hits. Elincia deals 5 damage to Melanthios. Melanthios cannot counterattack. Melanthios has 13.5/23 HP remaining. Elincia has 9/10 HP remaining

She takes advantage of her frozen foe to deal another two blows before soaring back to her team. Grinning broadly, she returns to Nanna’s side. 

“It should be safe for you to heal up against the Dark Bishop now. That goes for all of you, they won’t be able to strike for a while. Let’s use that to our advantage.”

The battle wears on with no end in sight, the world still caught in a strange state of in between.

          Letizia spends much of the battle ducking and weaving under flashing steel and flying spells, determined to not be hit. She recognizes that the story’s tone has shifted dramatically, and she is not eager to find out if death has become one of its major themes.

         Nanna is gravely injured by the knight and its mechanical mount, to which Ingrid and Elincia respond by imploring her to heal. Ingrid rushes to attack the pegasus knight on a mechanical mount of her own while Elincia turns her attention to the black-robed adversary: Melanthios. Her strikes are swift and true and leaves him in quite the debilitated state once her blade is through with him. Seeing the dark bishop in no state to fight back, Letizia raises her hand and calls on Körmt’s power. 

PLAYER TURN. !roll 1d20 + 2. RESULT. nine ( 9 ) … hit ! two point five ( 2.5 ) damage dealt. MELANTHIOS HAS 11 / 23 HP REMAINING.

         There’s a satisfying rush as the tome’s green lightning connects. She knows she can do better, but it is a step up from the miserable miss from earlier. 

hresvelged​:

As time trickles onwards, the song feels like a never-ending piece. Every show must have its finale in one way or another. The beat surrounds her with its might as the piercing lights continue to shine on their subjects. When the cameras zoom in on her direction so aggressively, there is a strange feeling she cannot quite put her finger on. The who’s and why’s occupy the space in her mind as her singing misaligns itself from those of her group. Her smile fades, leaving behind an embarrassed state.

Edelgard’s face flushes crimson, moving herself away from the eerie lens and coordinating back with the rest of her peers. Although the movements do her little favors, she is not about to shy away because of her own faults. To back down is preposterous, even if she dislikes the general situation.

Roll 3d10 -> Technique: 4. Choreography: 6. Wow: 6. Total: 60.

The fatigue threatens to hinder her, but the unknowns do much more than any physical exhaustion– Perhaps it may be in her best favor were she to ignore it, but telling Edelgard to do such a thing is akin to commanding an eagle not to soar.

@diryrja

They must be approaching the end of this spectacle now.

        At least, so she hopes. How long could this blasted performance go on? This so-called music does not even resemble a melody to Letizia anymore. What more is there to be observed? How much time had passed? It all blurs together in her head; exhaustion makes her mind muddy. She’s never liked such physical exertion much.

ROLL 3d10. TECHNIQUE. 9 CHOREO. 3 WOW. 6 TOTAL. 72

       She’s forgotten the moves again. She no longer has the energy to even be embarrassed.

hresvelged​:​

The further their group pursues onwards, the more it is emphasized just how harsh the spotlight can be. With it comes an unspeakable pressure, emphasizing itself on the platform below. She knows how easy it is to feel like nothing but a mere puppet placed upon a mantle as decoration. Still, what they have in the now is each other. When Edelgard notices the fumbles and missteps of her teammates, there is a noticeable mistake in her own singing as she assesses the situation.

She has never been one to shy away from attention onto herself- It would feel rather contradictory if she did, much as she does enjoy peace and quiet when the chance allows. Nonetheless, now is no such time. What makes a good show is its memorable ending.

Roll 3d10 -> Technique: 4. Choreography: 8. Wow: 16. Total: 192.

Edelgard hopes to turn some recognition back onto herself, if only to give her group a brief respite to fix their bearings and stand tall. Bouncing on her toes, she moves her arms outwards and spins gracefully towards the center to land in a desirable formation. Tossing her hair behind her shoulders, she flashes an approving smile towards the audience before turning her back and dancing away. The crowd seems to take an appeal to the cool and mysterious aura she provides- Although she does not immediately see it, she can certainly feel it.

@diryrja​

It’s starting to wear on her, all this movement. 

        How could Delancey want to do such a thing for the rest of her life? It doesn’t make the slightest bit of sense of Letizia; to prance about like an idiot before the masses… surely there are better things to do than… whatever this is. Her breathing is shallow, now, face sticky with sweat as the effort of dancing makes itself apparent. 

ROLL 3d10. TECHNIQUE. 9 CHOREO. 7 WOW. 5 TOTAL. 80

       But despite her weariness, Letizia notices her dancing seems to be getting better as time progresses. She watches her teammates, picking up on their moves and slowly learning the choreography. Her movements remain sharp in spite of her tiredness, but it is evident her mood is beginning to sour. The flashy charisma that had been present when she had stepped onto the stage is nowhere to be seen.

hresvelged​:​

If Fódlan itself is to become a watchful stage, she already knows who its audience may be- Unlike here, Edelgard cannot say for certain who is behind the other end of those lenses. As she feels the heat pressing against her neck and the cameras capturing every last detail, she has no reason to do anything but illustrate her very best. The idea of presenting less than her highest is simply unthinkable.

She allows her singing to fill the space around her, harmonizing with her footwork. As each step presses into the ground and the spin of a twirl offers a lightheartedness seldom few may expect, she keeps the rest of her moves sharp and precise.

Dancing so freely brings back a once youthful girl whose eyes held a semblance of optimism. She cannot shake off the unsettled feeling lodging itself in her very core, but the sway of Edelgard’s dance is so fluid and conclusive that she wonders what may happen when the beat pauses and silence echoes through the room.

Roll 3d10 -> Technique: 9. Choreography: 14. Wow: 5. Total: 115.

The waltz of Adrestia yet awaits her, but for now, she will grasp onto a small bit of self-indulgence. No longer does her face remain expressionless- When a petite smile presents itself, she hopes to keep it there until the grand finale.

@diryrja

She knows she shouldn’t have gotten so cocky.

        Of course, Letizia knows a slip-up was bound to happen sooner or later. It is not as though she had trained very hard, and her dancing — whether it be this contemporary mess of whirling arms and legs or a waltz meant for the ballroom floor — was never something she ever seemed to have time for. A small, stupidly sentimental part of her wishes she had set aside the time for it, now. Here, at least, where such things didn’t matter. But what would the use be, the rational part of her had argued back? There is no such thing as ‘ making up for lost time. ’ It would not have brought them any closer to their goal, her goal.

ROLL 3d10. TECHNIQUE. 9 CHOREO. 1 WOW. 1 TOTAL. 10

       But perhaps it would have saved her some embarrassment as she, so caught up in these furious musings, trips over her own two feet. The Director stumbles, managing to break her fall with her hands but the damage has been done. Thankfully, the stage lights are so bright that she is sure the red hot embarrassment upon her cheeks cannot be seen, but nonetheless…

       She climbs back to her feet and hurries into her position. Letizia is half-tempted to stick her leg out and trip someone else.

hresvelged​:

A watchful stage is filled with scrutiny, but it is also a place for opportunities and exposure. Whether that be a good or bad thing in this circumstance, she has yet to find out. As Nanna offers words of encouragement, the Imperial Princess nods in agreement as the group takes for the stage. She is used to attention, but this is hardly what she had in mind for a grand declaration. Nonetheless, the to-be emperor intends on giving her fullest efforts- Both for the sake of proving herself and the mere unknowns of this story. They must see this through to the end, even if dancing and singing is their greatest obstacle. “Of course. I look forward to seeing our success,” she declares in response.

Standing in place, she absorbs her surroundings as if they held something of vitality. Perhaps they did, reminiscent of times past in some manner. Regardless, Edelgard is confident enough in her abilities that she feels no regrets towards her earlier practice. Clumsy as it may have been, she can only go upwards from such a feat. That is the very thing she wishes to prove on this scorn-filled premise, much like she declared prior. She catches Nanna out of the corner of her eye, peering back towards Elincia in turn and follows up with her own spotlight to the Blue Lions professor. Only then does she rapidly catch sight of Letizia and Ingrid, holding onto the hopes all of their movements correspond with their goals. As the lights press on and the music booms, she hopes both her work and everyone else’s pays off.

Roll 3d10  -> Technique: 12. Choreography: 17. Wow: 4. Total: 116.

She is precise, dancing exactly how she recalls. The evidence of her efforts comes to fruition, much to her standards. The moves flow with ease and her recognizable voice follows suit. Edelgard’s song and dance tell a tale, but its contents leave an unintended void.

It is not a picture perfect moment. The shackles of past nightmares weigh her down, rendering a smile nearly invisible.

@diryrja​

It isn’t typical of Letizia to be nervous, but as she steps onto the black-tiled stage she cannot help but feel rather jittery.

       None of this will matter in the end, she tells herself. It is a stupid competition for the brainless masses. There more pressing thing for them to do is, firstly, discover an escape and investigate that strange… dark aura felt earlier amongst the mages of the group that morning. But there is something about the bright, multi-color lights flashing in her eyes and the distant thrum of the cheering crowd that makes her stomach churn and her heart race. This is an entirely different field of battle, another realm entirely. A part of Letizia even wishes she had practiced more before their big debut, or even been a little more involved on To-Witter. She had spent so much time holed up researching everything there was to know about this world, she barely made time for the role she was to play. Oh, well, there was still time for her act.

      Her usual makeup had returned: spikey-lined eyes and a black lip, a stark contrast to the loose white fabric of their stage outfits. An iconic look, Letizia recalls one of the lines a stylist had told her before she had stepped on stage, is the key to attracting a fanbase.

      The music begins to blare, and the girls move into position. Grudgingly, Letizia must give credit where credit is due. They are… quite alright. Perhaps they could win this after all.

ROLL 3d10. TECHNIQUE. 12 CHOREO. 2 WOW. 7 TOTAL. 98

      Letizia will not deny her choreography seems to be… missing some things. She only has her lack of care for the entire spectacle to blame, but she hopes her sparkling charisma will make up for it instead. Her moves, though inaccurate, are sharp and her expression stern as she dances. There’s a moment where she finds herself in the center of the formation; Letizia spies the flash of a camera’s lens and winks.

amitieos​:

“Oh, I’ll join in too! I love dancing,” Elincia grins, rising to her feet. For a moment, she feels like the world is spinning beneath her feet, but she ignores the strange sensation and instead follows along with the choreography Edelgard and Ingrid perform. A terrible mistake. “I’m… usually a lot better than this.”

(Roll 3d10: Technique: 4, Choreography: 5, Wow: 2)

There’s a frown evident on her face as she sits back down only halfway through the steps. Before she hurts herself, or even worse, someone else. Elincia reaches for the bottle and tries to see the bright side. She knows she can do better than this - after all, she had won the White Heron Cup just a couple of moons ago.

“Not to make excuses but I feel a little light-headed,” she informs the group, fidgeting with the bottle cap in her hands. Suddenly her stomach rumbles, like thunder crashing through the practice room. Cheeks blaze crimson but she laughs, feeling a flood of relief. Maybe she just wasn’t feeling her best after all. “I’m fairly confident in my singing Ingrid, and with my dancing. On a full stomach. Perhaps we should take a break for lunch soon?”

“Your dancing has come a long way, Ingrid. I can see how hard you must be working, to improve so quickly.” She can’t help but beam with pride at the young Lion. A couple of days ago, Ingrid could barely dance without somehow entangling her limbs. Now, she dances far more confidently, with the grace that was often evident when she fought in battle. There is room to improve but Ingrid certainly wouldn’t be standing out for all the wrong reasons on stage. “I bet with a little more practice you’ll be putting us all to shame. Or we could focus on some vocal practice, if you think that will help more?”

Then she turns to Letizia and Edelgard, face eager and bright.

“I would like to see this ‘rapping’ for myself. If it requires confidence and oratory skills, I’m sure you’ll both… hmm, what was the word Delancey used? Slaughter it on stage!”

@diryrja​

Trying to go as unnoticed as humanly possible, Letizia mimics the movements of the other girls while their attention is trained elsewhere. She winces as she catches her reflection in the mirrors lining the far wall. At a cursory glance, perhaps it would not be too bad… if she had any idea what she was doing. I’d be laughed off the stage with this…

ROLL 3d10: Technique: 8; Choreography: 1; Wow: 5

Letizia becomes acutely aware of a pang in her stomach as Elincia speaks. Well, perhaps I am just hungry, too… After all, there has not been a task I couldn’t do yet…

The Crimean princess turns to bright eyes towards her and Edelgard and Letizia can’t help but be caught by surprise. Why on earth does she expect so much from them now? And she had seemed so confrontational towards the Director just moments ago, what had caused her to change so suddenly? 

damegalantea:

“It is the dancing and singing together that I am most concerned about,” Ingrid admitted, speaking over Letizia to nod at Nanna. “You are quite graceful so I would not worry so!”

She claps at Elincia’s performance, content to continue to ignore the party that seemed intent on setting them against each other. If anyone was the leader here it was Elincia as far as Ingrid was concerned.

“I need more practicing with the dancing, but I think I’ve finally found a routine at least,” she says, and though the results of her training could certainly be better Ingrid was just glad to be training at all. “The karaoke box is helping me with my singing! Almost like choir. Have you all tried it?”

The mention of choir turns Ingrid’s thoughts to Edelgard, and she listens as the woman diplomatically discusses their next moves. She had never had the chance to catch the Black Eagle’s leader at choir practice back at Garreg Mach, but it is difficult to imagine Edelgard being paltry at anything so when she assures them of her full efforts Ingrid takes it in stride.

“So la - ah, Edelgard and Nanna might like to focus on dancing? Whereas, I know I am most comfortable singing. If we start to plan like this perhaps we will have time to correct the choeroraphy so we are all more comfortable. What say you Elincia, Letizia?”

@diryrja

Letizia balks at Elincia’s challenge, and the Director has half a mind to retort before she catches Edelgard’s gaze staring up at something.

     A camera… she swears silently. Must every aspect of their lives be monitored? What sort of sick crowd draws enjoyment from these things? Regardless, Letizia’s stance loosens and a smile tugs at her lips, even if her eyes remain sharp and calculating.

    “You’re quite right, Ingrid!” she agrees, tone a bit too sickly sweet. “...oh, I? Well…” 

    A short laugh escapes her. “...I cannot say I am very musically inclined. I did not join in on the training for I feared I would merely impede you all! Though, if you insist, I’m more than happy to merely act as a figurehead for the group. …Well, I suppose I can try to sing —”

    Letizia clears her throat. Her ears already feel hot. Gods, of all the stories…! 

    “Faaaaa ~ !” 

    It is not… bad, but it is not anything impressive either. There will be plenty of time to practice, she hopes.

    “My dancing is only marginally better,” Letizia admits. “I turned my energies towards orating in my youth instead of the more traditional hobbies a princess is expected to take. Hmm, I do recall something called ‘ rapping ’ being similar to the act of spoken word…”

Despite her adamant protests against performing, it seems as this blasted ‘ Stairway to Stardom ’ program kicks off, she has little choice outside of performing.

        There has been a constant twitch in Letizia’s eye ever since they have arrived on the ‘ set. ’ Damn Delancey and Julian and that stupid cow of a ‘ host. ’ Director wants nothing to do with any of this nonsense. Why couldn’t the Projectionist put her in a world with a nation to her name? Just when she had dared to hope something good could come out of this stupid mission… the whole thing makes Letizia angry enough to shatter the mirrors in the dance room. Then there is the matter of ‘ To-witter ’ and ‘ pear phones ’ and ‘ social media presence… ’ it is enough to make her dizzy.

       “Alright, listen up!” she barks, wheeling on the rest of the girls. They had all been lumped together in a sort of team, and Letizia supposes she must be the leader, damn that Delancey girl to hell. “If we are going to be forced to compete in this show of idiocy, we will have to do it well! A singing contest is first, yes? …can any of you hold a note?”

danciingduelist​:

She leans in, as if they’re sharing some grand secret. Cheeks flush a rosy hue as every thought in his sunshine-filled head gets thrown in complete disarray. Laslow nods absently, registering the feeling of her arm looped through his. 

“What…what a lovely name! Like a flower,” he says out of reflex, following after her as if in a daze. Time may have given him more confidence, but personal experience in dealing with a flipped script remains at rock bottom. 

Are these her rooms? Dear Naga, they just met today— 

Her washroom? Laslow swallows, heartbeat a roar in his ears. Letizia appears completely unruffled and for a brief moment, he’s envious of her easy confidence. What’s it like not having to constantly fake it? 

Again she invades his personal space with little care. Belatedly, he realizes she’s standing between him and the door. If experience has taught him anything at all, it’s to always know where the exits are. Now he begins to feel nervous for an entirely different reason than her unprompted flirting. 

Eyes flick down to the hand on his chest. He brings his own hands up, fidgeting with his earrings, his hair, the suddenly too-tight collar of his shirt. Calm compared to their usual lives, perhaps, though between the constant noise and machines surrounding them, he can’t imagine life in this world as calm, either. 

“Heh, I always worry. P-part of what makes me so charming!” His voice sounds a little high to his own ears. “But death is quite extreme, d-don’t you think? Surely something that…deserves more thought.” 

Sharp fingernails drag up his chest, cool palms wrapping around his neck. Can she feel how fast his pulse is jumping? He swallows again. “H-hey, Letizia, I’m flattered, really I am, but…” Hands drop to grip the counter at his back. The cool material grounds him in time for her following words to send a chill along his spine. 

“Casting? What do you mean—hey, wait, have I done something to upset you? Listen, if it’s the nicknames, I’m sorry! Let me go and we’ll laugh about this over tea, eh?

Slowly, he grips one of her wrists, fingers wrapping around her skin in a feeble attempt to stop her. “Please?”

         His hands raise to stop her, a feeble plea falling from nervous lips as if such a thing could sway her.

         Letizia merely squeezes harder. She needs him dead now — gods, it has been too long since she has brute forced her way through an execution. How she longed to conjure up Körmt’s sickly green lightning and blast him to ashes. Then she wouldn’t have to go through the hassle afterwards of stowing him away if he didn’t revive right away —

         A thought hits her in that moment. What if he does not revive? What if she proves to be wrong? The possibility is high. How would she be able to cover up the disappearance of one of their teammates? There are not many of them from the Monastery gathered and for one of them to vanish would certainly be a cause for panic amongst the other soft hearted idiots. And with so many eyes on them…

         The pressure on his neck increases for a brief second before Letizia ultimately relinquishes her grip, releasing Laslow and stepping back. Now, how to play this off…?

         In an instant, her narrowed eyes that had been glaring down at Laslow just a moment before crinkle joyously again and she laughs.

danciingduelist​:

Everything after the quiz show is a blur of lights and sounds. 

He’s ushered into some sort of…carriage, one that moves without horses. A small blessing, he concedes, as this environment seems determined to send his anxiety into overdrive. It hasn’t flared up with such intensity in some time. Laslow remains quiet throughout their journey, opting to pick at his nails instead of strike up a conversation with his teammates. It’s a bad first impression and he can only hope everyone else is just as distracted by their own thoughts to pay him much attention. 

At last, they’re again corralled into another brightly lit room. Laslow hardly registers anyone else or what the annoyed woman says. Too much has happened already; his brain is still trying to catch up. 

Only once they’re released (for the time being) does he relax. They have to put on a performance of some kind—well, everyone did say he needed to show off his skills. He can manage that here. He’ll never see anyone from this story book world again, and his monastery companions would discover he’s a dancer sooner or later. 

Arms stretch above his head. Ugh, he can’t wait to get out of this suit. Stupid thing restricts his movement too much. Maybe he’ll grab a snack, too, and try to figure out this smartphone thing currently gripping in his hand. Then he can worry about performing. 

Laslow blinks. Girls approaching him first has become something of a habit lately; is he giving off a more mature aura, now? Or have they finally realized his many charms? It’s about time! He doesn’t recognize this girl, though his reputation clearly precedes him. 

“Hel-lo! Heh, I’d love to go somewhere quiet. Too much noise right now, you know?” He smiles, the edges lacking their usual brilliance. “But I can’t go anywhere until I get your name, my darling!” 

My darling, he calls her.

         She smiles, eyes crinkling into joyous half moons. It is so easy to wrap him around her finger. Sure, Letizia had heard word of Laslow’s flirtatious nature, but surely it wouldn’t hurt his prospects to be a tad more cautious around women he had never spoken to before? Though, she recalls his success record with dates is not very high… desperation is a funny thing.

         “Oh yes,” she agrees. “Much too loud. There’s a constant buzz in the air I cannot quite place, it is making my head ache.”

         Letizia slips an arm through his, leaning in close. “Ah, I had nearly forgotten! We have not much time at the Monastery to become familiar, have we…? I’m Letizia, one of the recently hired Reason professors.” A complete and utter falsehood, but what does he know? “...here, follow me. I’ve found a place away from all these… devices.”

         Without waiting for his response, Letizia half-guides half-drags him off to her assigned quarters and into the washroom attached to the room. There is no lens flashing at them here, no one to watch her plan unfold.

         She loosens her arm from his and steps in front of him, blocking his exit. Still smiling, she presses a palm to his chest. 

         “All seems calm here in this story, doesn’t it? …too calm, wouldn’t you agree? To be perfectly honest, it may be my paranoia talking. I fear there is danger in our shadows, but I wonder… should we worry? Surely the concept of death is not written into a story about a performing arts competition.”

         Her hands wander up his torso, wrapping around the base of his neck.

         “I cannot cast my spells here, I’m afraid... otherwise this would be rather quick.”

         Letizia’s smile widens as her grip tightens.

Letizia has always prided herself on her sharp, analytic mind.

          Though she despises contingencies, she could navigate through them with relative ease. The path to survival is not always straight, and she must be prepared to walk the crooked road. But this? Being dropped into a world devoid of things she knows and full of unknowns is disorienting, alarmingly so. So many words are spoken at her, and yet she does understand a single syllable. She cannot even fathom how such a thing is possible.

         The ‘ performance ’ ends without much fanfare, and the women are escorted into a vehicle unlike any other Letizia has ever seen. They are then transported — rather quickly, Letizia marvels — to a similar-looking setting in a different area. An unfortunately familiar sight of bright, glaring lights and strange, looming machines meets her as Letizia steps onto the ‘ set, ’ where she is then arranged into a single-file line alongside her temporary allies and that Delancey girl.  Even more words Letizia cannot possibly comprehend in the time it is presented to her are spoken at her, before the group breaks off to … wherever.

         Her head aches, but Letizia fights off a scowl for the time being. There is one thing she knows for certain: they are being watched. By who, Letizia hasn’t the faintest idea, but the way those manuerving those strange, lensed machines follow their every move… Letizia cannot shake the feeling she is being surveyed. Though she does not know who is watching her, maintaining a spotless image is now more imperative than it has ever been. Whoever is watching, she wants them on her side. 

         But before she can worry about her image, she must first worry about the matter of the rules of this new world. She already senses she cannot cast here, a fact she cannot deny makes her feel a pinch antsy. They do not seem to be in any immediate danger at the moment, and it makes Letizia wonder if they can even be hurt here. After all, this is some sort of pretend-fairy tale-performing arts fantasy, right? There would be no need for matters of life and death in such a story. But just to make sure…

         “Laslow, isn’t it?” Letizia calls, approaching the Blue Lions Professor. She has wiped off her heavy black liner and lipstick, opting for a fresher, more girlish kind of look. It is easier to lure others in this way. “...I apologize if this seems rather forward, but there has been something on my mind ever since we arrived. Would you mind coming somewhere more… private to speak? Away from these people… don’t you find them so unsettling?”

einjelique​:

Well, this was certainly not what she had been expecting.

She listens as the sixth and unknown member of their group sings for their audience, smiling nervously all the while. Her light pink fabric, while not entirely unfamiliar, still caused her to itch and scratch at her skin. Thankfully she was pulling most of the attention so that she could fiddle with it without worry— and discuss what on Earth was going on with the others, of course.

“While I agree— are you sure it’ll be okay…? That lady from before— I doubt she’ll want us causing any sort of distraction from the show.” Nanna turns to Ingrid, her smile faltering for a moment as she realizes just how legitimate her fellow Lion’s concern is. “I…hope not, but I guess we can’t be so sure, can we?”

The Projectionist was much more powerful than she had anticipated. It was one thing to throw them into preexisting storybooks, but to conjure something so…different from any world she’s ever seen was not only impressive, but terrifying. Who knew what else they had up their sleeve…

“I’ll happily follow if you all believe it’s a good idea— I just…have my concerns, is all.” But she also really didn’t want to have to sing. Oh, Bragi.

@diryrja

Ruler.

          The word dances in her mind, cruel and mocking. She hadn’t hoped for much, but the possibility that she could have been afforded something to lord over only to be dropped into the middle of this spectacle is almost too much to bear.

         Letizia clenches her jaw so tightly she thinks if she keeps it up a tooth or several would surely crack. It is all she can do to prevent herself from lashing out at anyone who dares cross her line of sight. The Curse Director considers herself to be a knowledgeable woman, privy to things others couldn’t hope to glean in their lives. But thrust into the glaring spotlight in this unknown world alongside students from the Academy she knows only the bare minimum of, Letizia feels as though she is struggling to stay afloat in a stormy sea, and the riptide is fast approaching.

         Thinly gloved hands tug at her ruffled collar, running a finger under the cheap fabric. As if this entire debacle could not get any worse…

         She rounds on the others at the mention of performing, heart dropping at the very idea. Would they have to make fools of themselves, too? Is the warbling of their sixth member not enough for the audience? Letizia had been considering telling the girl to shut her mouth but if the noise distracts from the other five, including Letizia…

           “I will not sing or dance.” she snaps. “You all may decide to prance about as you please, but I refuse to make myself a fool in a world we are strangers in. Our first priority is to find a way out of this gaudy hell, staying here will only veer us off our goal further. …Don’t you think so, Princess Edelgard?”

It is a rather anticlimactic thing, watching the dragon die.

Honestly, she had expected more fanfare, with how much the others had pleaded with Letizia to put her spells away. The heaving of the beast’s chest, the way its wings flutter to a stop, its gaping maw going slack as its great body strikes the earth. Letizia stands there, silent and watching, amidst the dust kicked up by the dragon’s impact with the ground.

…nothing. Letizia feels foolish to have hoped for anything.

“Well,” she sneers. “Is that all? With the fuss you all kicked up, I’d thought there’d be something of interest.”

In a fit of frustration, Letizia hurls a bolt of green lightning into the ground. Gods, she is sick to death of this storybook world! What would it take, to escape? Letizia feels desperate enough to kill.

Wait.

There is another here stuck with her, a student from the Academy. Slowly, Letizia turns to look at her. Surely there are enough brats at the school that losing one wouldn’t be an issue, and if any questions were to arise… well, the world within the storybook is rather dangerous. Perhaps escaping would be a matter of an eye for an eye… and if not, at least there would be information gleaned on exactly how life and death worked in this unknown world.

With a snap of her fingers, Letizia conjures up another green spark, contained in her palm. “No hard feelings, dear, really… it is just I fear I will be missed a bit more than you shall be.”

And without another word, the lightning explodes at Caeldori’s feet.

ivalatona​:

“Hold! You said you were a princess? Well that changes everything-” But it’s too late, Letizia has already pushed past her, and likely didn’t hear L’Arachel’s quick change of heart. No matter. She’ll simply have to show her wildly different opinion on the woman. Through action, behavior–compassion! 

She barely gets the chance to catch up with the Curse Director before Letizia’s lies are already beginning to spew from her noxious mouth. L’Arachel is flabbergasted, blinks hard at the spectacle, and rushes to the other’s side. “Excuse me?!” she sharply whispers, turning a furrowed brow the other’s way, “We are no such people! I am L’Arachel; Beautiful Princess of Peerless Beauty! Have I not explained this to you?” 

Naivety subsides enough for her to realize that all eyes are on the pair. She goes red at all the sudden attention, and straightens out so as not to make a mess of things. “Ahem! Um, i-indeed! We come to act as your salvation–to do away with these fiendish imposters! Cast them aside like you would any scornful beast, and revere the beautiful figures of legend before you!”

The crowd, understandably, is in an uproar about this. Differing opinions fly through the lips of the commonfolk as weapons fly through the air. And everything is a weapon in a riot. L’Arachel has to duck under a stray cabbage that nearly knocks her out, proving that while there are those who support them in condemning the fakes, an equal number of bystanders think them the imposters. The clamor gives her a chance to turn to Letizia, and hypocritically lecture her:

“Just what do you think you’re doing?! This is hardly behavior befitting of a princess! Were you not taught right from wrong? Good from evil? We are to be warriors of truth, not deceit! You ought to be ashamed of yourself!”

But lying, as it were, has proven itself to be too fun to ignore. And necessary in this situation. Without missing a beat, L’Arachel spins back at the crowd, cupping a hand over her mouth as she shouts, “See for yourselves how she mocks our founder’s appearance! Her lustrous locks are but a ragged wig, dyed and styled in cheap imitation of a false image used to hide wondrous Seiros!” 

And sure as the sun will rise, the hair atop the head of ‘Seiros’ is proven to be fake. One of the many hands clawing at her pulls the wig off with minimal effort, revealing a short bob of black. 

If the people weren’t convinced before, they certainly are now.  

Letizia considers the operation a success once she sees the produce begin to fly.

        They’ve succeeded in causing an uproar — all Letizia can think is how relieved she is that the ditz calling herself L’Arachel managed to scrounge up something that resembled sense to chime in on the Director’s ruse. Though she seems to have her doubts at first, leaning in close to hiss at Letizia about right and wrong. A dry chuckle escaped her then. What did this bright-eyed doe know of right and wrong, she can’t help but wonder. What a joke! 

       Nothing is ever so black and white. What they do now, is it right or wrong? Surely, one could argue for either. Are they right for revealing the truth of this fraud? Or are they wrong for shattering the faith and happiness of so many? The masses may be ignorant, but they seem happy…

       Letizia finds she does not care either way. There is a task to be done and a reward to be had. How the ethical validity of their methods is not her business nor should it be the church’s.

       The crowd rips the blonde wing from the false Seiros’s head, revealing a short choppy bob. The woman looks furious her guise was seen through so easily, and that so many of her faithful have turned upon her within an instant.

       “How can you be sure that they are the true Cethleann and Seiros?” she demands. “What have they done to prove themselves to you? They are two women who walked out of the Monastery and began spewing nonsense! I performed miracles, I healed your sick —”

       “Magic anyone acquainted with the school of Faith could easily perform.” Letizia sneers. “You would have done better impersonating Cethleann. I was a warrior of the Goddess, her sword and shield! And I do not take kindly to those using my face to deceive…”

       Letizia advances on the woman, who shrinks down. 

july mission board. ( prologue )