O HOLY RHOMPHIA!

“ You remembered that...? ”

It is not that he doubts her memory, not when her echo is as certain as the tenets of chivalry drilled into his heart, but it is strange to know he has been heard— to be conveyed as such that his words had left their mark... to insinuate that to someone else, they truly mattered.

“ Right! We have our wits about us still. ”  It does not change the sorry state of his attire, but his voice finds its spirit, its power, little by little.  “ For as long as we still stand, we must continue to try! ”

His apologies for Lady Marianne and Selena would have to be given later, no matter how uncomfortable it might make him feel.

He readjusts the hold he has on his axe, its weight feeling less burdensome than before with the light of Clair's consolation.

“ Thank you, Milady. 'Til the end, you have my hand! ”

Seeing Hilda's arrow strike true in the background, Kent leaps to the fray, determined to bring himself into the blood of the battle as himself, no spirit of battle nor no man possessed. Just Kent.

Mimic E 10/10HP misses Cervid Husk 10/10HP with Helswath! [Roll: 14 - 6 = 8; -0] Cervid Husk is unable to counterattack!

Kent 1/10HP misses Cervid Husk 6.5/10HP with Helswath at melee range [Roll: 8 - 2 = 6; -0, Cervid Husk 6.5/10HP] Cervid Husk is unable to counterattack!

And in the end, the blade of his weapon clashes instead with that of its mirror image, the two striking one another and letting sparks fly from the contact as their foe manages to barely leap out of the way.

But he can still try! He can still fight!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He has spent a knighthood of resisting what he has felt deep down— an endless endeavour to restrain and inhibit that which made him too much at any given point. He takes a moment to breathe, however, to at least feel the peace of this moment, granted by the healing magic of the pigtailed girl beside him.

“ ...You have my gratitude. ”

It is quieter than he would have liked to say it normally, the temptuous whispers in his ears making a docile man out of him. He feels himself becoming less and less of himself, but in becoming less, what was he in actuality to begin with?

Had he not made a liar out of himself in this attempt at restraint all along?

The serenity of this moment, borrowed as it might be, inevitably comes to its end as he spots out of the corner of his eye the cervid husk manipulating the greenery of their landscape, vines and flowers moving up and shooting directly towards where the two of them stand.

“ Retreat!! ”

Cervid Husk 10/10HP hits Kent 6/10HP with Entangling Vines [Roll: 14 + 8 = 22; -1.5, Kent 4.5/10HP] Kent is unable to counterattack! Cervid Husk 10/10HP follows up with Entangling Vines [Roll: 10 + 8 = 18; -1.5, Kent 3/10HP] Kent is inflicted with Constriction for one round!

Kent shoves Selena a bit more roughly than he would have liked to, knowing he had little time to act to spare her the fate of being ensnared by the coiling vines that grab at him instead. He sacrifices his body to them, hoping he has distanced the Nohrian from this outcome, but he feels the thorns of the vines dig into his flesh, demanding more and more of him.

It seeks to bring him down to his knees, and he roughly grunts as he fails to fight against it, dragging him lower and lower to the ground bit by bit. It brings him down so that he has no choice but to be a more stationary target for one of the shadows that come to him, axe raised high—

Mimic D 10/10HP hits Kent 3/10HP with Basilikos. Focused Strike activates! [Roll: 5 + 8 = 13; -0, Kent 3/10HP] [Roll: 3] Kent is unable to act and he takes damage [-1, Kent 2/10HP] Mimic D 10/10HP follows up with Basilikos [Roll: 18 + 8 = 26; -0, Kent 2/10HP] 

And the most he can manage to do is bring his arm up high enough to block the attack directly, hoping the mimic's blade might cut through some of the vine entrapping him. Where that succeeds somewhat, it still cuts into his arm, but he has grown numb to the feeling.

But he can still move it, and that is enough. He has spared the gash across his front from suffering worse, and at times, the lesser of two evils is all he can ask for.

And then he feels nothing at all. At last, he feels him succumb to that which he has feared, that which he has braced himself for.

Kent is no longer afflicted with -4 Avo! Kent is no longer afflicted with Whisper’s debuffs! Kent is now Brainwashed!

Carnelian eyes take on a verdant hue again, and in giving his mind entirely, his body reigns supreme. He breaks free of most of his bonds, though the vines still cling and trail behind him somewhat, but the most important part is that he can bring himself to rise and stand instead of be buried amidst the dirt.

He rises, but in taking his first steps of freedom, the burn of holy magic reaches him, smacking him in the shoulder. He grits his teeth, and when his steps propel him forward, it is with a need to not leave anything undone.

He can no longer recognize the faces that attack him, but that makes things easier.

He raises his axe, and he downs the one who had dared to blast at him.

[Roll: 1] Kent 2/10HP counters with Helswath [Roll: 8 + 8 = 14; -7, Marianne 0/10HP]

She tumbles to the ground, and she regains herself, murmuring an apology as he stands over her, her blood coating the blade of his axe, turning the ribbon around its handle crimson as it flutters in the light breeze.

He stares vacantly, unable to understand who that apology is for and why it might be uttered.

You can't be afraid to act! You've always feared the worst... or so I've heard. But you're living now, aren't you?

He is a demon on this battlefield, but he feels a set of eyes linger on him, weakening the hold of the magic on his mind. He mistakes it for worry, mistakes it for wanting something from him.

Just earlier, she had said she had got him and handled him carefully in his wounded state. She had brought him back to life on the cusp of death.

Here he stands, at the cusp again, and his hand is not so careful. It is not so merciful.

[Roll: 4] Kent 1/10HP crits Selena 5/10HP with Helswath at melee range. Death Blow activates! [Roll: 19 + 6 = 25; -12, Selena 0/10HP]

It is passionate violence and nothing more, cutting her down before he can even think fully, adding her blood to the mess of colors coating him from heel to cheek. His blood, hers, Marianne's, the husk's—

Which shade was whose? Was it even possible to tell where one began and the other ended? In losing himself, he sought the colors of those around him, but that is when the spell over his consciousness finally breaks and the vines on him wither away.

Kent is no longer Brainwashed nor Constricted!

It is in fully losing himself that he regains himself again at last, but the blood coating his hands make him a horrifying stranger in the moments he has lapsed into nothingness.

He knows not what happened in those minutes he was gone, but he can piece it together by the way these stains weigh him down, the collapsed bodies of Lady Marianne and then Selena of Nohr, her own consciousness seeming to flood out of her rapidly right before his very eyes.

“ I... Forgive me, I— Did I...? ”

That loud, overbearing voice from the beginning of their battles is no more. Quieter and quieter he becomes until his apology and question both are nothing more than a terrified whisper.

...He has done this, hasn't he?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A rush, a touch, a gash.

“ K E N T !!! “

Selena dashes forward towards the knight, just as his orange hair all but disappears with the thorny tangle. Her hand stretches forward so instantly that, combined with her flying momentum, she could feel the brush of his clothes on her fingertips. Wait, flying? Gods, there’s NO WAY they put me on a pegasus again! She lowers her eyes towards her mount, expecting the worst. Surprisingly, she is met with the fluffy back of a griffon. With small relief, she lowers herself to its back and steers it around to avoid collision with the cervid’s vines. 

“If you want to hurt them, you deal with ME!” Selena circles back towards the monster. Its darting eyes track every beat of her wings. The motion for casting her magic now familiar to her, she swoops close and lets loose an explosion of light that originates from the thing’s chest. Her griffon flaps its wings to clear the small explosion, and Selena is able to turn her back to its harsh radius.  She flies a little lower to get a good look at it; but, to her horror, it charges towards her unscathed. She blinks disbelief from her eyes just in time to grip the reins. The cervid races towards her, antlers making devastating impact with the flank of the griffon. Selena yelps in pain. 

Selena 10/10HP misses Cervid Husk 10/10HP** with Aura at melee range [Roll: 8 - 8 = 0; -0, Cervid Husk 10/10HP**] Cervid Husk 10/10HP** counters with Antler Gore [Roll: 17; -2.5, Selena 7.5/10HP]

The griffon manages to limp away, and Selena manages to right herself enough to call to her allies. She hopes her voice sounds more charismatic and rallying to them than to herself. “Hilda! Marianne! Clair! Let’s show this thing that we’re NO ONE to be messed with!” Pressing her bloodied leg tighter to her griffon’s flank, she raises her hand in the air. She emanates soft light, becoming a beacon amidst the dark landscape. “To me! Let’s move!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Professor? Professor!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mimic D 10/10HP hits Selena 7/10HP with Silver Axe [Roll: 19; -3, Selena 4/10HP]

The axe-shadow buries itself into her shoulder. Far too used to having a pauldron there, Selena had left herself wide open. 

Selena 4/10HP counters with Aura at melee range. Mimic D’s Hoplon Guard nullifies the crit! [Roll: 12 + 4 = 16; -0, Mimic D 10/10HP] Selena 4/10HP follows up with Aura at melee range. Mimic D’s Hoplon Guard nullifies the crit! [Roll: 19 + 4 = 23; -0, Mimic D 10/10HP] Selena 4/10HP takes damage from Sesshoseki! [-4, Selena 0/10HP] Selena has been defeated! Mimic B has disappeared!

Light reflects from an illusory shield. The violet mirage barely seems to flicker. As each of her struggles glances off of the shadow, she feels a great impact upon the axe in her shoulder. Once, then twice it wedges deeper. She staggers back, a sculpture at the mercy of her foe’s chisel and heavy blows of its hammer.

“Just like that, huh? Guess it’s… never that easy…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Selena 5/10HP hits Clair 10/10HP with Aura at 2-Range [Roll: 13 + 4 = 17, 15 + 4 = 19; 0, -5, Clair 5/10HP] Selena is no longer Brainwashed! Selena is no longer inflicted with Taunt!

As the glow fades from the scene, so too does it fade from Selena’s eyes; she begins to see the situation around her with new recognition. Her target glares at her, terrified at this sudden burst of speed; Selena can only gasp when she sees Clair’s familiar face. 

Selena brings her hands to cover her mouth, still totally agape. “Oh my Gods, I’m so…” 

The mist swirls around her, reminding her of her true enemies. The abomination of a stag seems to eye the pair warily, though its eyes are impossible to discern in the darkness. Movement from the shadows reminds her of the illusory soldiers she had spied before. The bodies of her comrades lie fallen and hollow around them. She looks into Clair’s eyes, hoping that the conclusion she’s come to is not true.

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

“Professor? Professor!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Relax! It's fine to let go once in a while, isn't it?

Cervid Husk 0/10HP** casts Whisper on the party! All player units are inflicted with -2 Spd, -2 Dex, and -2 Avo for one round.

He doesn't recognize this voice very well, knowing it vaguely, but he doesn't need to know it to know he finds it unwelcome. After many dreams trying to lull him to death, many shadows taking on the voices and faces of those he loves to break him down like this...

“ It's not like that... ”

Whereas Clair and Hilda wail against it to beg it to stop, Kent's protest is quiet, weak, his expression contorting in its vulnerability. He feels so helplessly small now, outcast, and when he finally has clarity again, the reality he opens his eyes and ears to is not a peaceful one.

Selena, Clair, and Kent are no longer afflicted with Whisper’s debuffs!

It is to a bloodbath. On one side, Hilda. On the other, Marianne. Both of them have their mounts gone, their shadows disappeared, and they are unconscious.

“ ..... ”

Kent can only react in a silent horror, robbed of his thoughts, until he realizes he sees Selena still up but doubled over in pain.

“ Selena, are you alright?! ”  he rushes over to her side, dropping down to kneel beside her and help support her if necessary.  “ Do you need someone to cover you as you gather your bearings? I can def— ”

But ignoring a problem only gets you so far. One must treat the root of the problem, and this problem's roots had become too overgrown.

Kent feels a pain spike through his head, and then he senses nothing at all. He cannot remember or understand what has or shall happen, his body no longer quite his own.

The last thing he can recall is seeing Clair approach the two of them, and a menacing aura to it all.

Selena, Clair, and Kent are now Brainwashed! They will all sacrifice their player turns to attack a random ally.

Rising to his feet, Kent, not quite as himself, stands defensively in front of the Nohrian, keeping that sentiment carrying his will even if the rest of it had been buried. The Crimson Shield only can see the Zofian noblewoman as a threat in this moment, and between fight or flight, he refuses to fly.

Kent 8.5/10HP hits Clair 10/10HP twice with Keyur. Death Blow activates! [Roll: 2 + 4 = 6, 15 + 4 = 19; -0, -0, Clair 10/10HP] Kent 8.5/10HP takes damage from Sesshoseki! [-4, Kent 4.5/10HP] Clair 10/10HP counters with Silver Axe [Roll: 1; -0, Kent 4.5/10HP] Kent 4.5/10HP follows up with Keyur. Death Blow activates! [Roll: 2 + 4 = 6, 8 + 4 = 12; -0, -0, Clair 10/10HP] Kent 4.5/10HP takes damage from Sesshoseki! [-4, Kent 0.5/10HP]

But it is useless. As he raises his hands against her, tries to stop her advance towards the pigtailed woman behind him, the gauntlets on his hands do nothing to even dent Clair's defenses. No, instead, all he is treated to it the way attacking her from close-range bites him, metal bashing into him and slicing into him too, until he is as crimson as his own epithet.

One last swing of her shield knocks him aside, clearing the path for her to descend upon Selena, and Kent falls to the wayside, crumpled in his own blood, but he has not come out of this fight with nothing.

Kent steals +2 Str and Clair loses -2 Str.

He feels the strength within him build and build, the blood on his body making him burn even brighter as he takes and takes from those he encounters. But at the height of all of his strength building, of the fire of battle and bloodlust getting to him in his bruised and battered state, that's when clarity comes for him again. Verdant eyes turn their former carnelian hue as the Crimson Shield returns to life.

Kent is no longer Brainwashed!

He rights himself against the pain, ignoring it as rises to his feet and tries to run to intervene and stop them, calling out to his two remaining allies:

“ Lady Clair! Selena! Snap out of it!! ”

But his voice will fall on deaf ears, for they had fallen victim to the same curse that he had, and he will not make it in time, for his body had been broken too much to make the trek fast enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“ … snap out of it!”

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

“What have I done?”

His first breath is difficult, disbelieving at first, but then his second comes on a gasp, and eventually he feels the warmth in his limbs again and he is here. But where is here precisely? He picks himself up, looks around, and no discernible landmarks are there to aid him.

Only his allies, but as he follows Hilda's trajectory, he realizes he spots another of her not too far away from the monstrous deer she is trying to slash against.

“ Lady Hilda...! ”

Kent 10/10HP misses, crits, hits, and misses Cervid Husk 10/10HP** with Keyur. Nimble-Combo activates! Death Blow activates! [Roll: 4 - 8 = -4, 17 - 8 = 9, 15 - 8 = 8, 7 - 8 = -1; -0, -5, -2.5, -0, Cervid Husk 2.5/10HP**] Cervid Husk 2.5/10HP** counters with Antler Gore [Roll: 15; -1.5, Kent 8.5/10HP] Cervid Husk recovers his speed. Kent steals +1 Str and Cervid Husk loses -1 Str.

He rushes, attempts to discard his doubt for a moment of which one is real, if either, perhaps even both, and with a speed required to match her foe, unleashes a flurry of punches, blades on his gauntlets cleaving into the deer's side in return with a devastating gash as it thrashes wildly to try and get away from Kent in this relentless flurry.

It is not a style of fighting he feels at all suited for still, despite his performance. A rush enters Kent, and he feels stronger for having caked his hands with blood underneath the weapons in his grasp, feeling the blood spatter on his face and body elsewhere too.

It is a dizzying sensation, one he is too afraid to name for what it might do to him if he does so— what it means to destroy another in the way he has.

He watches to see that Hilda was able to retreat in the time of his attack to help fend the creature off of her, but he still worries for the state of his other companions.   “ Lady Clair? Lady Marianne?! Selena...?! ”

He calls out their names one by one, uncertain, but he finds himself surrounded instead by their doppelgangers first.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As was she.

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

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

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

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

Hilda falls unconscious!

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

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

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

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

CLAIR HAS BEEN DEFEATED.

But Clair makes a point.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She turns her eyes back up to the threat at hand. Despite its best efforts, it has no way to disguise its blood dying the seafoam dark. As it approaches the boat once more, Selena, without thinking, lunges at it with the dagger. 

Selena 9/10HPattacks Sopherosyne 14/20 with Dagger COMBAT ART SUNDER [Roll:11, AUTO CRIT -2 Sophrosyne 12/20]

The sword hilt in her hand is lighter than she anticipated, and her strike comes down with much more force than she intended. The monster’s fin cleaved in halves, it returns along the edge to fling the boat’s stern, knocking Selena to the deck. 

Sophrosyne 12/20 counters Selena 9/10 with Deluge [Roll:15-4=11, HIT 2.5 Selena 6.5/10]

Her head makes grim contact with a small wooden box previously by her feet, and her head spins. 

“Owch! No fair!”

She manages to sit up enough to see the monster coming back for more; Selena tries to scramble away as best she can, lightheaded and dizzy.

Sophrosyne attacks again! [Roll:5-1 Miss! Selena 6.5/10]

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

“ Thank goodness you all are alright...!! ”  Not only that, but they take to the situation, seemingly not deterred by the tides (or perhaps brought to life from them, having faced through the rough waters and getting hope of their own resilience for having made it through) as they all unleash attack after attack.

What they all needed was a strong starting hit, so it would seem. Had Kent's fears held things back? Seeing the bravery of the students before him, he cannot help but feel this way. He might have the training of a full-fledged knight, but he was no Lionheart.

Sophi D 3/3HP hits Kent 8/10HP with Bite [Roll 10; -0, Kent 8/10HP] Kent 8/10HP counters with Shielding Art [Roll: 11; -1.5, Sophi D 1.5/3] Sophi E 3/3HP barely hits Kent 8/10HP with Bite [Roll: 5; -0, Kent 8/10HP] Kent 8/10HP counters with Shielding Art [Roll: 5; -1.5, Sophi E 1.5/3HP]

The water brings with it small turtles aboard, nipping at them all, giving barely any room to think, but Kent steels his resolve, emboldened by the sight of his allies. He does not feel the pain, could scarcely register it as he bats his way through it, and he makes his way to the side of the ship to do what he should have done properly.

He does not pull his hand back this time.

He instead reaches forward, even as the Queen of the Sea retreats into the ocean, and does not allow her to go back there unwounded.

Sophrosyne returns underwater! Queen of the Sea is now active again! [Roll: 2 - 1 = 1] Sophi G has been spawned! Kent 8/10HP hits and hits Sophrosyne 11/20HP with Shielding Art [Roll: 13 - 6 = 7, 18 - 6 = 12; -1.5, -1.5, Sophrosyne 8/20HP] [Roll: 4, 3] The Immovable does not proc! Sophrosyne does not counterattack!

Two solid punches as she disappears below the surface connect, and he looks back to those he is fighting with.

“ I am with you all!! ”  For all he exclaims, however, his expression turns sheepish as he looks across the deck, crowded as it was now.  “ We do certainly have quite the number of company, however, don't we...? ”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gods damn it…”

This time, however, he knows something shall happen while they are aboard this illusory ship. He does not need to be told as such to know that this shall come to be, and it is his nerves that steel his expression, make it sharper than it perhaps ought to be in the presence of new faces, but he has always feared the worst, and this time is no exception.

Ocean as far as the eye can see surrounds them on all sides, and the ominous call of a crow overhead tells him the time must be near.

“ Everyone, I shall investigate the side of the deck. You are free to remain here if you so wish, ”  he tells the four students before he separates from them, peering into the ocean.

It feels so endlessly deep, but in that striking blue color, he sees it.

[Roll: 4-1 = 3] Sophis 4, 5, and 6 have been spawned! Kent 10/10HP misses twice against Sophrosyne 20/20HP with Shielding Art [Roll: 3 - 6 = -3, 1 - 6 = -5; -0, -0, Sophrosyne 20/20HP] Sophrosyne does not counterattack!

Turtles larger than he has ever seen come into being, the largest of them all nearly the size of half the ship. He reaches, but all he touches is water, even after lingering.

He brings his wet hand back, questioning what he saw, but as one of the smaller ones come up to try and nip at him, he knows he did not imagine it.

Turning back to the rest of the party, he alerts them quickly and loudly,  “ There is a large creature underneath the ship following us; we are at risk of it thrashing against the ship! ”

And just as he says that, its weight does collide against the boat, tipping them all a bit off-balance but not without any serious injury yet so it would seem.

But for how long would it stay that way?

“ On your guard! Are you all alright?! ”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Absolutely embarrassing. 

Even if Berkut had not been skilled in warfare, in moving about behind enemy lines when needed, it was unacceptable that some of these outposts were so easily infiltrated. Though he had been tasked with finding rare artifacts – Relics they were called here, he'd been told, and forged with some faraway magicks in a way that made them triumphant in some hands, milquetoast in others – he was of course keeping an eye out for weapons that might have felt comfortable in his own hands. 

It should have been any polearm, practiced as he was, but it seemed that no matter the lance he found himself quite weak to wield them for longer than a few moments, much to his disgust. 

But that wasn't all that he could do, he supposed. It felt base, but as he moved about the outpost he snipped the edges of sandbags, draining whatever fortification they might have offered onto the floor, and pilfered vials of what might have been vulnerary, might have been toxin. 

He even took a moment to peruse the collection of texts that made their home here before continuing on, and eventually he found what he was looking for: an arms cache, a rack of weapons of varying durability and rarity. Berkut's hands hovered over the hafts of the lances momentarily – part reverence, part assessment, fingers seeking that which had once felt comfortable until finally he plucked a gleaming ebon spear and tested its weight in his palms, grimacing for a moment at the pitiful shake in his arms. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Azure gaze glances upward. His eyes meet with a visage he knows— and one that made itself well-known to all that passed it. He raises his eyebrows. Had she been watching?

“Lady Clair.” He addresses her with the necessary respect she demands— one not unfamiliar to him in the slightest. He had long since grown used to such conduct in Askr, with its diverse roster of Heroes. The prince tilts his head, gesturing to the board before him. “Would you care for a match? My mind has been clouded as of late…”

The seat opposite of him is vacant, having left his hands to govern white’s pieces in the absence of an opponent. It had been a purposeful decision to play solely on black’s side of the board. His realm had never sought conquest; only defended itself from it. Though clad in white were his realm’s soldiers, they had never taken the first move in war.

Before Clair can afford an answer, Alfonse begins to arrange the pieces into their positions; he would have done so regardless. As White’s king and queen slotted into place, the act seemed to say: It is your move.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✧ liberosis: the desire to care less about things.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✧ rubatosis: the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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