Lion

Status: passed

Skill points gained: Activity: 1 (Authority: D → D+)

dragon-kiddos​:

Cheeks puff out in mock annoyance. Kana wasn’t expecting Roy to… well, not fight back! If someone pelts you smack in the chest with a snowball, wasn’t it instinct to retaliate? And yet the older boy dutifully sticks his shovel back into the snow and gets to work. 

“I suppose you’re right,” little dragon sighs, a quiet whine lifting his words. “Don’t want anyone slipping and hurting themselves. But we can play once we’re done, right?” 

So, with a little less pep in his step, Kana follows suit. His shoveled lines aren’t as clean or orderly as Roy’s, but it gets the job done. Only a few minutes pass, though, before the little dragon finds himself insurmountably bored with the task at hand. 

An idea strikes him as he watches how the snow piles up on either side of the path. Moving with a bit more purpose, Kana begins to purposefully pile the snow he shovels into the same area, creating something of a mound. Once it was piled high enough, he sets his shovel aside and starts to pack it in with his hands, slowly forming what appeared to be three spheres stacked atop one another. 

It wasn’t a traditional method of building a snowman, but it sure got the job done! Though, as Kana looks over his creation with a proud smile, the real work—their task at hand—is left to Roy. 

Roy can tell that his reaction was not the one Kana expected, nor the one he wanted. The young dragon’s pout and sigh makes him feel bad, a little, as the image of Fae comes to his mind; how many times did he refuse her playtime because he was busy with strategy meetings or training?

But it was necessary, his mind argues. He held the lives of his people in his hands; he had to do these things. And he also has to do this now. He has responsibilities to fulfill, tasks entrusted to him that no one else can complete.

He has to.

With something of a heavy heart (why? he said they can play later, so why does it still feel off?), he gets to work, and so does Kana, and they make some progress. It does not take long, however, before the redhead takes note of his companion’s new unusual activity, and he almost wants to again say something about how they will have fun later, but he stops himself, resorting instead to observing with the corner of his eye for a while while he continues work.

Ohhh, that’s what it is, okay. As Kana admires the result of his labor, Roy, having finished cleaning another small portion of the pathway, approaches him from the back to also finally take a closer look.

“Hm. Could use some eyes, I think,” he says quietly.

When his and Kana’s eyes meet, he chuckles. “Heh... I’m sorry, Kana. I know I’m not very fun to be around. I’ve always had a lot of responsibilities and... it’s stayed with me I guess,” he explains himself with a sigh.

dragon-kiddos​:

Snow shoveling was not a task Kana was ever expected to complete. Aside from the fact that the prince was never expected to maintain his home’s upkeep, the little dragon could simply not remember a time when there had been so much snow that it had to be shoveled away. Not like this, that is, with more than just a few students armed with big shovels and work gloves—those unlucky enough to not have fire at their disposal to take care of the mess. Black ice threatens their kneecaps, and Kana wasn’t going to be falling anytime soon.

Gloved fingers flex around the clunky shovel, a hum escaping his throat. Where to start? Maybe moving from one end of the path to the other, taking it in rows? Oh, it would be so much easier with direction, and—oh!!

“Good morning!” Kana spins on his heel to face his classmate, forgetting their task in lieu of introductions. The boy standing before him wasn’t a stranger, but he was remiss to admit that Kana never caught his name until now. “It’s nice to meet you, Roy! I’m Kana—I’ve seen you in class before! I’m sorry we haven’t talked until now, heehee.

“I’ve never had to clean up snow like this before. I like playing it in a lot more than this silly shoveling.” Momentarily forgoing their task, Kana leans his shovel against the nearest wall and bends down to scoop up a handful of snow, which he then packs into a careful ball.

“I like being here in Fodlan ‘cause we don’t get snow like this back home,” he explains. “It’s good for packing!” In one fluid motion, the little dragon whips the ball in the direction of his classmate, aiming to hit him square in the chest. “See?”

One second. That was for how long Roy had looked away from Kana, in order to assess the length and condition of the shovel he had picked up; and the instant he looks back up, splat goes a snowball right against his chest, taking him by surprise enough that he staggers a step back.

He seems stumped for a second there - but then, he does not know whether or not it was actually against his will? His lips curl upwards and he lets out a chuckle, his hand absently wiping the snow from his coat. There is something magically nostalgic and charming about the gesture; in a sense, it reminds him of Wolt.

(He does wonder how his best friend is doing, without him around. That one could always be trusted, but he was just as reliable as he was reliant.)

“Ahahaha... I get that, I think. There isn’t often much snow in my homeland, either.” Pherae enjoyed a warmer, southern climate after all; it was the harsh Ilia up in the north that took the brunt of a true Elibean winter.

He pauses. It feels as though something in his mind freezes momentarily, as though struggling to analyze and figure out what he is supposed to do in this situation, before he speaks more. “To be honest, I don’t remember when I had a snowball fight. If ever, actually... Didn’t have a proper occasion for that.” Or time, for that matter. There was always something else to attend to.

Speaking of things to attend to, Roy sticks the shovel into the snow in order to start cleaning it up. That’s probably not the reaction Kana wants, but they have a task to do - the snow can wait until it’s safely off the walking path.

@pahndelion ; Sword +1

“Watch out!”

This thing is hairy, huge and hefty, but thankfully, not particularly trained in swordsmanship; that ends up being Roy’s saving grace as the agile youth ducks to avoid a heavy, barbarian-like swing aimed squarely at his chest, before withdrawing a safe distance away from the unlikely opponent, using the Sealed Forest’s plentiful trees as cover.

When his lord father and the Pheraean knights recommended that he travel overseas for studies, to learn new things beyond Elibe’s potential and broaden his horizons more than ever before, this is probably not what they had in mind.

“Watch OUT I said!” Roy shouts again, an extra note of desperation in his voice, as the monkey stretches out its long, muscular arm and throws the sword it’s wielding at one of the Knights akin to a spear; the man only barely gets himself out of harm’s way in time, and the blade ends up embedded in another tree. Unfortunately, before anyone can get a hold of it, the animal reaches and retrieves it first. The damn thing is fast for its size.

There is clear exasperation in the sigh he lets out as he withdraws a few steps, catching up with another Knight that had come to this bizarre mixture of a search mission, rescue mission and battle. As their eyes meet, the pleading in Roy’s gaze makes it clear that the prince is well and truly out of ideas right now.

Status: passed

Skill points gained: Activity: 1 (Authority: E+ → D)

Total: 1; 5 → 6

Obtained: Rally Luck (Authority D) Blue Lions Brooch (Ethereal Ball participation)

@arcaediaen ; Flying +1

There is a lot that Roy can safely say he expected from his assignments at the Academy. This is not one of those things.

He didn’t even know the Academy held chickens, for crying out loud.

And, worst of all perhaps - being a noble and heir to the throne of Pherae does come with the unfortunate consequence of having no experience with poultry whatsoever, outside of eating it. Which he highly doubts counts as expertise that will come in handy here, what with the staff requesting that, if possible, the chickens be rounded up and returned alive.

The terror on the faces of the squires surrounding him as he approaches the main door to the training hall is not a good indication. Roy cannot help but have his doubts - these men are being trained for knighthood and professional combat, exactly what is it in there that strikes such fear into their hearts?

Well, the instant he pulls the door open just enough to take a peek, he is met with a deafening SQUAWK that, in his personal opinion, a creature this size should not be capable of emitting, followed immediately by wind in his face blown by the rapidly flapping wings of the creature - and a beak and claws that threaten to reach his face, prompting him to quickly shut the door back. As he leans on it to keep it closed, he can feel the scratching and pecking on the other side. Something tickles his ear; he raises his hand and retrieves two feathers.

Okay, that’s what it is.

Eyes dart around in desperate search of ideas, and eventually land on a head of blue in front of him, approaching the scene. Lord Marth’s wife, that’s who she is, from what Roy had gathered; whether she was also assigned to help resolve this mess, or was merely attracted by the commotion, the Pheraean does not know, but... as much as any help is appreciated, Lady Caeda, too, is a princess, and thus unlikely to have experience with... chickens.

Hm.

“G-Good morning, Lady Caeda.” Nevertheless, Roy does manage a light smile, even if it’s a sheepish and somewhat artificial one. “Pardon me, we have a, uh... situation...”

@illeoneardito:

Roy is, on a daily basis, not one for fooling around and playing tricks on people, or ridiculing them in any fashion. A rival student, a political opponent and an enemy commander on the other side of the battlefield - generally speaking, all are approached with respect and courtesy, even if none is offered in return. That is how he was raised, and that is the sort of person he is - amicable, polite, well aware that for one such as himself, his reputation is never only his own.

So, that little bout of mischief he just committed feels very out place to him, and he almost wants someone to criticize him for this.

Which he might just get; a fellow student approaches him, takes note of the game he had played, and does not hold back his laughter. Roy smiles, a solid dose of embarrassment in his expression.

“It’s fine, you can laugh. A pretty childish thing, isn’t it? That knight’s friend invited me to it, but that’s no excuse, of course.”

With a sigh, he turns away from the book of engagements, not even attempting to flip the page or otherwise hide the damning proof of his brief moment of immaturity. “Is there something you need? Ah… I see you’re collecting stamps as well?"  [♟]

   “ Yeah, it is, ”  Coirpre agrees easily and bluntly. It is childish, but the sight of someone dressed up so formally doing it anyway creates a contrast comedic enough to keep him grinning anyway, though he does at least try to not laugh too much.  “ It looks like you’re at least about to win though. ”  

It’s a simple game, one that Coirpre hasn’t indulged in many years, but the rules are still fresh in his mind, enough for him to be able to glance down at the page and get a decent feel for what’s happening.  

At Roy’s guess, he nods, holding his engagements card out.  “ If you’re looking, then let’s trade. ”  All he needs is the ‘as well’ to know he’s in the right place, but even as they’re swapping stamps, the priest’s eyes trail back to the game on the book, enough to spur him to ask:

“ Do you play chess too? ”

Roy allows a short, quiet chuckle to escape him. Coirpre’s honesty is as brutal as it is almost endearing, in a way. A refreshing break after a long time of being surrounded by people loved and appreciated by him, but nevertheless focused first and foremost on supporting his whims and ideas, rather than countering them, even on occasions when it would have been necessary.

“Does look like it, haha.” Does not seem as though his opponent has a chance to stop him from connecting three circles now. Well, that was a thing.

With that out of the way for the time being, Roy turns his attention back to Coirpre, accepting his card and stamping it with a R. A. before handing his own card to the other student. At the sound of the question, he perks up.

“Chess? I do, yes. It’s been a little while—” he has been playing REAL chess on an actual battlefield, in a sense— “but I do enjoy a game. Do you?”

“What do you make of these scenes?” he innocently asks the young Lycian lord, gaze remaining on the adornments.

Naturally, he had been aware that Roy was an attendee of the academy. It was, in fact, his primary argument in favor of his own enrollment. The Three Generals of Etruria had justifiably been against the decision, but his father, King Mordred, is the one whose consent held the most weight.

“Not being a native myself, I am afraid I know little of its triumphs.”

While Roy has not long been a visitor to Fodlan, Elphin expects him to have done his due diligence and takes an interest in gauging how much he has learned and grown since last they met. The time to discuss the particulars of his appearance will come later.

His expression remains unaffected when finally he turns, but the small, polite smile he offers betrays hints of amusement. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, my lord.”

Politics, as Roy has already well learned, is a game. A game one plays whether they want to or not, and a game where the stakes can range from reputation, through material gain, and all the way to life and death.

Sometimes, he would give a brief thought to the idea that, during the conflicts he had been involved in, his own safety and well-being was likely in danger more times than he knows of - than he will ever know of. Who knows, perhaps even now, at the time of peace restored, there are some who would delight in seeing him and his father dead. Animosities don't die so quickly; he is an idealist who wishes for peace and jor for all, but not an incurable optimist.

All that is to say that Roy is not surprised to see Prince Myrrdin continue on with the aforementioned game even here and now. Under normal circumstances, the Pheraean would not take kindly to one who deceived him for months, but as the news flew across Elibe and rumors abound were proven or disproven enough for him to piece the story together, he could not help but understand.

Politics is a game most dangerous, and this man has seen the worst of it in more aspects than one.

And so, Roy finds himself playing along, smiling lightly to mirror the bard's amicable expression as they face each other.

"I myself arrived to Fódlan a while too late to celebrate the anniversary of the great battle that shaped this land's history," he responds, his tone calm and fluid. "But to study the event is not difficult - almost everyone is able to tell at least a piece of the story, if not recite all of it from memory."

To an outsider who does not know better, his gestures are perfectly neutral; but for the proper person, it is not hard to figure out that the Pheraean knows more about what he's doing than what he lets on.

On the other hand, there are some things that do change. Since her parents died, she has only ever prayed for one thing. Tonight, she wishes for something different.

She spends the better part of her time walking back musing upon it, barely realizing she's stalled halfway down the stairs until her head raises to find someone else standing on the staircase with her. Instinctively, Marianne flinches away, then winces a beat later. “Ah…sorry. I wasn't paying attention.” She shifts to the side, a feeble attempt to get out of his way. “The Goddess Tower is empty right now,” she offers meekly, “if that's what you came for.” Which—of course it was, why else would he be here, but while Marianne can't quite tell if he's alone or not, she has enough sense to know it would be rather rude to crane her head to see. “I, um. I apologize for getting in your way.” Her head dips just a fraction. “Have a good evening.”

He has heard the school legends and rumors; that wishes made in the Goddess Tower are bound to come true. How much he truly believes in the notion, he is unsure. Not that Roy is a complete non-believer - the idea of St. Elimine watching over him and his people has always been comforting, even if it was a subconscious thought on his part in the times of warfare.

(There are wishes, and then there is the thought that if he were to fall, he knows where he's going.)

Either way, he finds himself wandering towards it less out of a desire to verify the stories, and more simply out of a need to take a break from the entertaining but noisy ball. He finds his ascent of the tower delayed, however, by a head of sky blue - and attached to it, a voice quiet and feeble.

"Oh, it's okay. Don't worry," he responds to her apology, his tone a shade softer than it would usually be, as though worried that he would intimidate her. He does pass by her as she moves to the side, but lingers afterwards - having done so to spare her from having to stand in an uncomfortable position for too long, rather than out of an earnest desire to keep going.

Her next comment prompt a hint of confusion to flash across his face - that is, until he remembers the rest of the myth related to the Goddess Tower that he had been told about, and his face is instantly flushed with embarrassment as he shakes his head. "Oh n—no, it's not like that, hahaha—" oh no oh no oh no— "I just thought that I need somewhere quiet to... take a breather." Whether or not she believes him is up to her. The performance he is currently putting on is probably not helping his case, but it is out of his control.

When in doubt, change the subject.

"Anyway... There is no need to apologize, really." He hesitates for a moment, before realizing his utter lack of manners. "Oh, um... I don't believe we've met before. My name is Roy, I'm in the Blue Lions House... I arrived in Fódlan not too long ago."

Chrom blinks as he puts the glasses on. Wow, that really darkens your vision, huh... I bet that, with a different style of frame, you could wear these in bright places and sunlight. Chuckling to himself, he turns to the other person at the artifex, a red-haired student who shares the same House as him, and shows him another pair of the tinted glasses. "What do you think? Should we both put these on? They'll probably make for an interesting photo, right?"

"Oh, hm?" Roy perks up upon being addressed, surprise shining through the light smile he offers the other student at the sight of the curious equipment he has picked up. Of the similar kind he had looked earlier, that Lord Hector did not seem to particularly appreciate, at least not from him. But, Roy himself doesn't think they're all that awful, really.

"Hah, alright then!" The redhead takes the other pair of glasses from Chrom, stands beside him and the two of them strike a pose.

Snap!