superbia.

diadic​:

     “ Oh, sorry, ”  Leif’s apology comes instantly, a bit sheepish when he realizes that the man beside him winced and cringed at his yelling. He really wasn’t doing anything at all to help, huh? Frustration continues to build up in him, accepting that he had to listen better and defer more to his fellow prince’s thoughts.

Leif cranes his head up again skywards as Innes continues, looking for such outcroppings. If it was just a matter of lifting the other up, then…

“ …Are you strong enough, do you think? ”  he asks.  “ I can lift you up if you can do the rest. You don’t look that heavy, at least. ”

And, well, it was a bit of habit for Leif at this point to be the one to stay behind to give others the chance to escape first. So long as they all could eventually reach safety, he didn’t mind.

     Innes’ eyes are fixed on the walls when he hears Leif’s comment, arms folded over his chest as he subconsciously grips the sleeve of his coat. “My arms are strong from years of archery, yes...” His gaze flickers towards Leif, scanning him up and down. “And I have a lighter frame. If you can provide the boost, I should be able to manage the climb...”

    He pauses with a shake of the head, reconsidering his words. “No. I will manage it.”

    There was no room for ifs and uncertainties. If they didn’t resolve themselves to getting out of here, then they were as good as stuck until help arrived. Assuming any would. With that thought weighed on his mind, Innes begins to circle the hole, hand running along dirt and bedrock as he scans the walls above. After a moment, he catches sight of something—small, but a section of protruding rock, nevertheless. 

Hello, hello! Innes (and Celica) are now officially back from hiatus, so here’s a bit of housekeeping for my current threads, and where I want to take things going forward.

These are my active threads at the moment. Bolded are what I currently owe (which I will be getting to throughout the rest of the month), and non-bolded are responses currently owed to me:

Duck Duck Goose ( @princessmacedon​ )

The Show Must Go On ( @alfvangr​ )

Deadlocked ( @diadic​ )

The Prince Diaries ( @pirrhyc​ )

Maverick ( @skinfcxi​ )

Highway Robbery ( @lalamines​ )

Manhunt ( @hezulion​ )

I plan to continue these for the foreseeable future, but if any of you would like to drop a thread, please let me know. If there’s a thread I forgot to put here, let me know that too! In regard to the HEART threads, I’m afraid I’m going to drop those. Apologies to my partners, but they happened during a period of serious burnout and writing block for me, and I find myself unable to summon back the muse for them. :(

verseandrhyme​:

“Rather heavy indeed.” She agrees as she picks at her skirt and settles it in place. She would like to think that she cannot imagine any sort of rebellion looming in the prince’s future. From what she knows of him, she sees no reason that that course of action should come to fruition from his populace. But therein lies the very same double edge; she knows precious little of him.

What the future holds for either of them is a tale lost to time. There is little sense in attempting to dissect and divulge it here, and even more so in attempting to find it being sold to them by a preacher at the fair.

“My plans are insignificant now.” She had something to do when she first strolled along this path, she was sure, but that was lost to her. A fleeting whim on the wind. A shame, but perhaps this conversation would somehow bear the fruit of something more valuable down the line.

“The fates seemed to have ferried my exactly where I was intended to be. And for once, I find I must thank them! Seldom is it found / Despite, many praise its worth / good conversation.” Mitama laughs to herself. “I thank you for your time, firstly, and your face second. You fare quite well at deterring unwanted attention.”

    His brow arches at the verse of poetry, curved in rare amusement as his chest rumbles with a low chuckle—a sound even rarer. Standing from the bench, he offers a hand to help her up with, responding, “It’s not often I’m praised for my skill in turning people away. Careful, I just might get comfortable with it.”

    “But I concur. I rather enjoy our chats, Mitama. If only they all could flow so easily.” Perhaps it is her masterful skill with choosing and  weaving her words that makes it so, or in the almost effortless way their sensibilities seem to click. Innes has certainly not lived a friendless life, but even amongst those who held that title, there were clashes in opinion and personality, or certain social pitfalls he found himself falling into.

Bow +1

     The survival assignment had been thrust upon them with little warning or preamble, but Innes was hardly one to complain. Life was filled with all manner of unpredictable situations, and what made or broke a person was how they managed it. Handled it. Adapted.

     Exercises like these were fairly common within the Frelian Army, with new recruits often being sent off into the forests surrounding Fort Mulan. They were given very little resources and supplies to work with, tasked to use their versatility and wit to survive the day. Even the women of Frelia’s famed pegasus knights were put through similarly rigorous tasks, with the added objective of securing and taming their first pegasus.

     Due to his experience with these matters, Innes is assigned the role of assassin, tasked with ‘hunting down’ the student hiding in the Sealed Forest. As he inches along the forest path, the Frelian prince’s eyes lift to the night sky. Visibility was low, practically nonexistent, making his task that much more difficult. Moreover, his target, Ares of Nordion, was a trained swordsman and warrior. He would not be an easy find.

    Steely eyes flit about, scouring low-hanging branches and treetops, only to stop when they catch onto a glint of thread in the moonlight. A spider web. Straining his eyes for a closer look, Innes steps to the side to view it from another angle, noting the break in the strands. Indication that someone has passed through it recently...

    Adjusting the strap of his quiver on his shoulder, Innes proceeds ahead. Tracking signs weren’t always found on the ground, after all.

( repost, do not reblog. )

Tell us your favorite quotes from your character. Give us an idea of who they are by five things they’ve said. Then tag your friends.

“ Surrender? I’m the prince of Frelia. I don’t know the meaning of the words. The fate of the world rides on my shoulders, and I’ll make it to Jehanna. Even if I have to crawl to do it. ”  ( FE8, Chapter 10 (Eirika): Revolt at Carcino — Pre-Chapter Dialogue with Gerik )

“ …You’re one of Carcino’s councilmen. Trying to trap me is a mistake. Failing, an expensive one. I think it’s time for you to learn how expensive. ”  ( FE8, Chapter 10 (Eirika): Revolt at Carcino — Boss Conversation with Pablo )

“ Carcino betrayed Frelia and set a pack of mercenary dogs to kill me. And you paint Eirika a rebel instigator? It’s an absurd farce. Your emperor commits horrors, and you believe Eirika is a criminal? ”  ( FE8, Chapter 11 (Eirika): Creeping Darkness — Post-Chapter Dialogue with Glen )

“ There’s something I’ve always assumed to be true… Those born to royalty cannot show others any weaknesses or deficiencies. If they’re not perfect at all times, their enemies will take advantage of them. ”  ( FE8 — A Support with Gerik )

“ Bah… I am in NO way inferior to this so-called Demon King. ” ( FE8 — Final Battle Quote )

"Guess who~?" She asks in a sing-song voice, though she's sure he knows exactly who it is. Before he can answer, she quickly shifts so she's in front of him this time and holds both arms out to suggest a hug. "Surprise!"

      He hears the footsteps long before he sees her—although the faint click of heels against cobblestone isn’t enough to reveal his shadow’s identity, the clasping of hands over his eyes and a familiar singsong voice is, striking the prince with a moment of surprise. Tana. When had she gotten here?

      The why was hardly a question; as much of a budding talent Tana was on the battlefield, she still had much to learn about discipline and the realm of politics, even if she would not have to bear the lofty burden of Frelia’s throne. 

      She untangles her hands from his eyes before he can pry them off, and as she shifts to stand in front of him, the ends of her ponytail whip the side of his face. Though he maintains his usual composure, surprise glints in his eyes as he looks her up and down. She looked healthy. Well. He was gladdened to see it.

      “A surprise, indeed...” He smirks, “Remind me to never take you out hunting. You’ve spent so long in the skies that your footfalls have grown loud and clumsy.” A jest wrapped in partial truths.

skinfcxi​:

DAGR FINDS HERSELF DEEP IN THOUGHT.

      A foreign feeling. Her partner ( a prince he tells her, sounding quite irate. Geez, are all princes so uptight? He reminds her of Alfonse, but at least Alfonse likes her. Kinda. Sorta. She hopes. ) recovers from his brief bout of disbelief as Dagr rips the bonds right off his wrists. She wonders why he hadn’t thought of that first.

     He does as she asks, listening to their captors for a moment, before turning back to Dagr and informing her of his discovery. Their limbs knock against each others’ as they struggle to find their place in the cramped cage. Oh, Dagr needs to get out of here now …

     “Rushing?” Dagr repeats, head tilting to the side as though she were a confused puppy. “Well, that’s perfect, isn’t it? They won’t notice us hopping out if we’re careful about it. Okay, Prince Green Bean, let Big Sis Dagr show you how it’s done.”

     Dagr puts her hand on two bars and starts to push with all her night, jaw clenched hard as she tries to snap the wooden bars of the cage open. She thinks she hears wood splinter, but she’s getting nowhere at this rate.

     “Give me a hand!” she hisses out the corner of her mouth. “Or a foot, actually! Start kicking or something — quick, before we start going faster!”

    Somehow, he sorely doubts this woman could do anything pertaining to the word careful, but it wasn’t as if their situation could get much worse than what it was now. At the very least, Innes is sure her uncanny strength could be of use, in the case that they were caught. Which was highly likely, at this rate. “Alright. ...Wait—” Big Sis? And again with the Green Bean. He opens his mouth in protest, but soon closes it again. Now wasn’t the time. “I’m not...” A sigh, “Nevermind.”

   She grabs the bars and begins to push with all her might, her efforts giving a slight amount of purchase—he can hear the faint splintering of wood, but it wasn’t enough. More than he could manage, at any rate. (Regrettably.) To her hissed command, Innes grimaces as he lifts his legs and presses his bare feet to one bar each, only just now realizing he was still in his bedclothes. Unsurprising, in hindsight. Though that made things a bit more... difficult.

    (He can only thank the Stones for the relative darkness of the cage, as it was easier not to think of the woman’s potential state of undress.)

lalamines​:

Innes slows and Mercedes tries to gently encourage her horse to follow suit. It’s easier than she expected and she finds herself grinning from ear to ear, despite their solemn mission. It seemed like she was a natural at this! She hums lightly to herself, trying to remember the things she overheard as a child. House Bartels had once had territory near the area, although she’d never been to the Oghma Mountains herself.

“Oh! I remember my step brothers described a cave system a little further west,” Mercedes informs him. Her expression dulls at the mere thought of her old family but tried her best to ignore the gnawing discomfort in the back of her head. This wasn’t about her and even if it was, those old ghosts had long since been laid to rest. “It’s supposed to be rather treacherous but that might just be a rumour young men made up to make them sound braver than they really are.”

She lifts her hand, gesturing in the direction they are to head in. For a while, it appears fruitless - there is no safe passage higher up the mountain to the caves that loom over them. Mercedes shoulders slump and she feels like giving up when she spots a thin, winding gravel path. One they’d have to take one at a time.

“I think we’re close by. This fits the descriptions, although I’ve never seen it first hand…”

     He nods, satisfied with her assessment. “I see...” His eyes flicker to the ground once more, steely gaze lifting to look in the direction she indicates. “There’s a lack of carriage and horse tracks, which means some of them must have continued on foot. A hasty and unplanned move, making that cave system a likely hiding place.”

     The prince falls silent, pensiveness weighed upon his brow. While he can’t speak to the path’s treachery, he’s sure there is at least some nugget of truth to it; horse riding along mountain paths was already a risky business, especially for amateurs like Mercedes herself, no matter how well she may have been taking to it. He would have to keep on eye on her.

    Their travels proceed without hitch for the most part, but when it seems they’ve come to a dead end of sorts, Mercedes speaks up, and Innes follows her gaze to the winding path leading higher into the mountains. His eyes narrow. Treacherous, indeed.

exemplaris​:

“Resilience?” The training blade caught only air, and Innes’ form slipped away on the breeze. Ferdinand tightened the follow through, pivoting sharply in the event that he had to catch him on the counterattack, but it seemed the other would play it safer than that. A pity, though… Ferdinand would have liked to turn it against him, if he took the bait. “I can appreciate something like that.”

And thus was the utility of a lance—versatility. Superior reach in both infantry forces and mounted, equally apt at defensive maneuvers and offensive… The only limiting factor was the skill of the user themselves, and with that in consideration, Ferdinand supposed it was little wonder that Innes would find himself drawn to master the weapon.

He had been told, earlier in his training when he had become comfortable enough with a lance to take to the drills, but not yet fluent enough to play in sparring matches, that he lacked decisiveness. It was not skill, it was not speed, nor strength, not anything that could be taught. To trust in one’s attack and commit to it was an expertise acquired with time. Ferdinand wasn’t quite sure if he gotten there yet.

But the string of swift swings and sharp, controlled jabs that he threw Innes’ way was a far cry from where he had started. One movement lent itself to the next, and Ferdinand found himself trying to stay one step—no, two—ahead of even himself to ensure his footing for the next action, never quite aiming in the same line twice.

     It was no mindless task, wielding the lance. It wasn’t a simple matter of swinging a stick about and taking advantage of its superior reach. It took mobility and flexibility; adapting to each new movement and development, and acting in ways the enemy would not be able to predict. Ferdinand certainly understood the assignment, never letting up on his offense as he assails Innes with a barrage of swings and jabs, intent never given away in his eyes, his moves controlled, precise, and clearly fashioned not to repeat the same move twice. 

     For as much as Innes attempts to weather the assault—a parried strike here, a weapon knocked off-course there—the resilience he spoke of earlier was on full display, as Aegir’s heir began to take complete control of the situation. Of course, Innes did not intend to let it stay as such.

     Another jab comes his way, and Innes thrusts his weapon forward in turn, the snap of wood echoing throughout the training grounds when the shaft of their lances meet. Innes pushes upward to disrupt the path of Ferdinand’s strike, and his grip tightens, no stutter in his movements as he quickly draws his arms back and then forward, using the brief opening to lunge for the other’s neck. 

Total Skill Points: 41 → 42

[Monthly Point]: +1 point allocated to Authority ( Authority: B )

ignatzvictor​:

Ignatz smiled and took a seat across from Innes. “I guess so,” he chuckled, “but even though I’m not taking over the family business my father taught me to always be on time,” 

Ignatz looks at the table in front of him. “I have to write a poem about you so I thought I could talk to you to get to know you better,” he admits. “Though I didn’t expect tea! It’s been awhile since I had time to properly enjoy a cup. What blend have you chosen?”

@freliaes

     “Being on time is important for a merchant, I imagine, what with all the clients you’re set to meet with. It fosters respect and trust, allowing the business to thrive.” The prince sips at his own tea as Ignatz reveals the contents of his own task—a personal poem, from the sounds of it. Innes would be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit curious... the other didn’t exactly strike him as a poet, and so he wonders what he would come up with.

perfectionist-prince​:

The last thing Siegbert had on his mind was politics and matters of state. Mandatory participation or not, the event was designed to garner friendships with those one might not normally speak with—the entire reason Siegbert attended the academy in the first place, aside from the clear benefit of refining his leadership and battle skills. He wanted to make friends! He wanted to learn what made people happy!

Apparently, politics make Innes happy. Not a bad thing, but…

“Oh, come now, Innes,” Nohrian prince chuckles softly. “It’s not that bad. If you fancy yourself the lady in this scenario, I’ll take the role of the tramp. I believe that would certainly make the event coordinators happy.”

Perhaps the one thing Siegbert wanted even less than a heated political debate was to share a single plate of spaghetti with a stranger, but it didn’t hurt to joke about it. Although the lakeside scenery was pleasant, their current scenario wasn’t exactly appetizing.

“To tell you the truth, I ate before this event even began,” he admits. “I truly hope they don’t force us to share this plate, lest our grades suffer.”

A brief pause. “Perhaps an alternative bonding exercise might count, instead. Such as a haircut.”

     Innes scoffs once more despite himself, finding some amusement in Siegbert’s comment. Him, the lady. Most would see it as a challenge against one’s masculinity. But for all of the fawning over his looks, and Gerik’s initial perception of him being a dandy, the Frelian prince supposes the comparison isn’t without some level of reasoning. Better to be seen as a figure of grace and elegance, rather than the alternative. 

     “Though extreme, I can’t fault the academy for its efforts. Etiquette is an important skill—what one sees as mere ‘manners’ are in fact a pivotal tool in navigating the complicated social avenues of the aristocracy. The words one chooses could sway matters of life or death...” Innes pauses. Perhaps this wasn’t the most appropriate turn of topic for what was meant to be a leisurely moment. He clears his throat. “...But this isn’t anything so dramatic, of course.”

velouriavonwolfchild​:

Velouria noticed his eyes on her wolflike features before she noticed the mistake that he had made. She frowned softly to herself. It’s not that she wasn’t proud of her lineage - her daddy would have her tail if she ever said she wasn’t - but sometimes the eyes on it made her uncomfortable. Her tail tagged softly behind her, still somewhat excited at the prospect of treats. When she finally did notice the mistake, she found herself not caring anyway.

“It’s alright. In fact, I think I prefer it like that.” Humans never understood, but sometimes things were better when they weren’t completly perfect. Given most of her collection was things that humans often called “trash”, she certainly didn’t care.

     The excess of chocolate spilling messily over the rim clashed horribly with his sensibilities, and a minor debate raged in his mind. The imperfection didn’t seem to bother her, and yet, Innes could not be satisfied with just leaving it be. Not when he could do better. There was no room for half-measures in courtship or etiquette.

     Though he supposes adaptability wasn’t without its place, either.

velouriavonwolfchild​:

Velouria glanced over the options before her, her tail wagging as she found herself excited by all of them. She giggled, she couldn’t even choose. Maybe she would pick one that had been her daddy’s favourite. And then her eyes glazed across a peach filling. Her tail and ears perked up excitedly, there was clearly no other option that she could choose.

“I want that one!” She pointed to it, her tail wagging quicker than even she thought it could. The boy next to her sighed, like it was a huge burden for him to carry out. She smirked, sometimes it was fun to play with people. Peaches were almost as important to her as her precious collection. If Innes refused her, she was totally going to bite him.

    To comment on it would be rude, but Innes cannot help but find his attention occasionally drawn to her beast-like features. The tail, the ears. He’s not seen anything like it before arriving at this monastery. Innes knows of the manaketes: draconic beings that helped to seal away the Demon King. And so the existence of shapeshifters never came as much of a surprise... but the fact that there were others beyond dragons had been interesting, to say the least. 

    Eyes flicker over to the filling she points out, and Innes finds himself wondering how the combination of peach and dark chocolate would taste. Certainly not something he would like. Much too sweet. “...Interesting choice. So, before we add the filling, we...” He slowly begins to pipe the chocolate in the molds, grimacing when he squeezes too hard and fills the first heart shape with too much, chocolate spilling over the rim. 

     His eye twitches. Stay calm. Try again.

      A picnic by the lakeside wasn’t the most difficult task to accomplish, and certainly one of the least embarrassing. It could just as easily be a chance for idle conversation as it could for a romantic rendezvous, and once the Frelian prince learns the identity of one of his ‘dates’, he knew just how he would approach this. 

      The lunch would be used as an opportunity to get to know Siegbert, his fellow prince, to perhaps discuss politics, war tactics, and matters of state. But he soon finds his plan taking a rather awkward turn once the contents of their church-appointed picnic are revealed: themed foods and single servings of various dishes, clearly packaged for the purpose of being shared by today’s would-be amorous pairs. The sandwiches and desserts were harmless enough, but the plate of spaghetti was downright laughable.

      “I suppose this is the part where we timidly bump noses over the same string of pasta.” Innes scoffs, staring down at the lone plate of spaghetti—singular meatball and all. “I’m still attempting to wrap my mind around the fact someone felt compelled to pack an entire plate of spaghetti into a picnic basket.”