the jasper lion will run.

Waving back, Mae comes bounding up to Alm. She skids to a stop before bouncing on the balls of her feet, as if her legs have a mind to go off running on their own. Oh, but today is just too exciting! The ball is almost here! There are fancy and affordable costumes for sale! And she gets to spend some time with Alm!

To be honest, that last bit is fueled by a little nosy curiosity. Okay, a lot of curiosity. But how could she not be feeling a bit nosy about the man Celica’s promised herself to? Letters and stories could only do so much to teach you about a person. The secondhand stories and brief chats have all painted a good picture of a decent man, but Mae thinks that nothing beats first-hand experience, and so she’s been dying for the chance to spend some proper time with Alm.

And if Mae doesn’t know much about ball dress codes, either? Well…they’d figure it out together. It’d be an adventure! An adventure with Alm. What fun!

“Don’t even worry about it! I have been looking forward to this all day! Just wait, we’re gonna find the perfect outfit for you. Celica’s going to go cuh-razy!”

Mae clasps her hands, as if trying to contain her excitement. Oh, to see her best friend in love.

She steers them toward the nearest stall, immediately plunging her hands into a rack filled with heavy tunics and capes. She waved off Alm’s concern with one hand, and continued rifling through clothes with the other.

“Oh pshh, I’ll be fine. I’ll just keep an eye out for something while we shop for you.”

Aha. This looks promising. With a grunt, Mae pulls out and holds up her find: an indigo doublet covered in swirling silver embroidery, with the feathers of some exotic bird cascading from the shoulders. 

But it is Mae’s reminder of who he is here for today that cuts Alm back to a smile at the clap of her hands. He’s already relieved to not have to throw away the “Lord” card from someone who knows his position. It’s the extra mile of her excitement that has Alm nearly believing they’ve been friends all their lives as well. Perhaps he should take back his initial uncertainties…

And speaking of the opposite of uncertainty, Alm quickly hustles to the stall that catches Mae’s eye. He tries to peek over her shoulder to see what’s in stock, but otherwise leaves the work to the professional. It seemingly pays off as she pulls up something from the pile, though it doesn’t take her grunts to recognize it as something heavy.

“Oh uh, let me…wow,” a mix of offering to assist transitioned to catching full sight of what Mae has procured. As the look suggests, the doublet is rather on the weighty side, though nothing the boy can’t handle. He flips it around in his hands once, then twice, with the feather tickling his nose the second time.

Holding back a sneeze, he squints to check if the storekeep or anyone else is viewing before…slipping the doublet right on. What? He’s always found that to be the best way to judge if a fit fits. It’ll be off before anyone knows it.

“Hmm. It’s…” Alm mumbles, staring down at the deep purples and silvers, then turns back to the pinkette. His face keeps the same uncertain look as he lifts it up. “It’s fine? I’m pretty sure the purple is supposed to be royal and all, but honestly? I don’t think it fits me…”

…aaaaand right. He’s lacking in any outfit whatsoever. His simple clothes from the bash were a no-go. Not only would that be very unoriginal, but based on the words of another noble-minded friend, the Valentian should be thinking of something more…confident.

Earlier this week, he heard plenty news of last-minute ball fits being available for cheap by the marketplace. Heck, he’s even seen the occasional disappointed student of nobility storm into town with intent to sell what must be their hand-me-downs. Well, at least Alm wouldn’t be starved for options.

He could always ask Celica herself about this kind of stuff. Even with a lack of noble showings in either of their backgrounds, she would surely have better knowledge on appearance compared to him after all these years. But…this was all for her. It’d be like picking out her own birthday present. Takes all the fun out of it.

So that is why Alm has decided to brave the bargaining streets on this day! Or at least, braving the streets with a little help from a friend.

“Mae!! Over here!” Alm waves from further down the road toward the easy-to-catch pink pigtails.

Honestly, “a friend” may be a bit of a stretch. Between her newfound time at the monastery and even back home during peacetime, Alm can only recount their times of direct meeting with both of his hands. But said previous meetings are more than enough for him to know beyond being fellow countrymen, the young lady was acquainted with Celica in the times that Alm was incapable of being there for her.

He couldn’t imagine a better person to assist in today’s trials.

“Heh. Sorry for the short notice about everything,” Alm lowers his hand once the pinkette draws near. “I know the request’s pretty selfish. Even more considering you probably need time thinking over the ball as well, yeah?”

Which made it all the more annoying when that professor had told her to deliver a jar to the angler's, wherever that was. Still, the added incentive of the rest of the week off was too good to pass up, so she'd play their game. For now.

The sooner she got this jar of bait to whatever fisherman or something, the sooner she could get to enjoying the rest of that week.

She could explore the market tomorrow morning, maybe try to find a— Whump!

Around the corner comes a large white bag, larger than she is, and she is knocked flat on her butt. Her tailbone smarts from the fall, but more concerning than that is her jar of... was that dirt? lay shattered on the ground among squares of paper.

Quickly she finds the offending party, a young man with green hair. He is already complaining about the mess on the ground. As if it was her fault! The gall!

Scrambling to her feet, Silvia marches up to him, mouth flying as she jabs a finger into his chest.

"Well, excuse me, Mister Fancy Boots, trompin' around here with your big ol' bag like you own the place! Maybe you should look where you're goin', so you don't go around running over poor little innocent girls like me! Hmph!"

With that, she does an about-face, smacking him with the end of one of her twintails as she storms away.

She has just rounded the corner when something makes her pause for a moment. Wasn't she forgetting something?

Oh yeah, her jar of bait!

Backtracking to the mess in the corridor, she

Something slimy wriggles over her bare toe, and Silvia screams.

Wow. That girl is fast, both in speech and on her feet. To be fair, it was Alm’s fault for whining without even realizing who he’d hit, but even then he didn’t think the smaller green had that much in her system to let go. Even her combo-ender of a hair twirl somehow hit sharper than some sword blows he’s dealt with.

A hand instinctively goes to hold where the twintail made contact, though it is quickly dropped upon the girl’s squeal. Last thing he needed was to be blamed for another thing that wasn’t his fault from the innocent girl.

“Worms?! Wait!” Alm stops the pondering before it could even start, diving down to a visible tear in the bag. Just as the other is crying about, worms squirm in and out of the bag. If they stay in there, they’re going to dirty the mail-!

“The bag’s full of post, not pest!” Alm rebuts, trying to sound argumentative rather than purely mad. He already scoops up one worm in his hand, though before going for more he knows he’s going to need to put them somewhere. He doesn’t have a container on hand, so…that broken glass bottom’s gonna have to do.

There’s dirt in it, conveniently enough. He’s pretty sure worms like that enough to not want to escape at least. Alm drops the first worm in, then grabs ahold of the bag and turns it to its side. He can simply hold the tear downwards and dump the remaining worms in…alongside any unfortunate mail.

"Thank you, Alm. You may plant that this one, here." Tiki nods her head at a plant that sits in desolation upon the stone floor. It is most likely a fruit-bearing one, but at the moment, she hardly recognizes it.

Muddied by the water, the flowerbed has become a veritable swampland. Tiki is apparently unbothered, though, as she continues to move the dirt with just her bare hands. An implement could help, surely; but her thoughts are not of efficiency, only intention. And, well, she intends to move this dirt to fill the flowerbed evenly, one way or another.

Aaaaand she’s at it again, he notes as she uses literal handiwork to tame the ground. Oh well. She looks to be older than Alm, so he’s probably in no place to lecture her on tidiness. Better for him to work on his own planting project than to gawk, anyway.

“Sure thing,” he settles his mouth and chirps, bringing along his makeshift jug to the plant he was directed to. A foreign one, not like that should surprise him. After settling it into another pot, he pours a fair stream into it, stopping once the dirt is a rich, dark color.

Satisfied with his first step, Alm circles around Tiki’s impromptu swamp and leaves the fruit plant with ones that appear similarly-coded. As if on cue, she speaks up to ask another question. Though it feels awkward to speak to one’s back, even if she is clearly pre-occupied.

"How else will the proud and mighty warrior learn what an actual manly flower crown looks like?"

She closes her eyes and leans into that familiar nook in the arch of his shoulder, resting in that little space of time in between him and the world. Just existing, being here, with him.

The warmth of the sun on her face, the sweet scent of the earth around her, his firm arm across her back, it all did just a bit to ease that burden of the past month.

Eyes still closed, she lets the tension slowly dissipate from her shoulders. She swallows, and there is a poignant pause before she is able to speak again.

"It's hard, you know?" she whispers.

"To have that faith, to know in your heart that you can make it through. That's something I always admired you for, even when we were children. That type of trust without hesitation was something I had to learn. I'm glad it's what can keep us together now. I don't know what I'd do if... "

She pauses, letting the wind pick up the rest of her words. The sound of birdsong and rustling grass sweeps in to fill the void, and it is a silence that speaks of boundless possibilities.

His eyes do not close entirely, settling for a squint. A mix of desire to see the natural beauty ahead of them and remaining conscious juuust in case. They might have won this war, but this land looks to have many more in its future. It’s not a premonition Alm is too comfortable with feeling.

When he hears her begin to whisper, his sight widens a small bit to ensure every word is fairly heard. The initial compliment softens his heart, but he does not allow his ego to be flattered, as it is clear more is to come. And he is correct.

Upon her hesitation, he swears to see a white bird as the source of the song through his obscured vision. His eyes do not give chase, instead fully opening to address Celica’s fears. They are already so close, but he pulls them in a bit closer, to guarantee that they are kept together now.

“The fighting doesn’t just stop because we want it to. Although…” Alm sighs, always finding it difficult to find the right things to say over what he wants to say, “...I wouldn’t want my welcome party to be within a crossfire. Point is, if we want to stop the battles, we still need to act. It’s why we’re here to learn more than the policies of nobility, at least.”

Alm blinks. He still feels like it isn’t enough. She’s always detested violence, and yet he still accepts it whenever necessary. No matter how close they are, will that belief always threaten to split them apart?

“I still hesitate at times, you know,” he ends up doubling back after another rustling of the wind. “Choosing who or what to trust…it’s easier to say than do. But…it’s also just like back then. Whenever we were split apart, I promised to find you. To help you. Those promises…”

He dips in even closer to her face, the light wind only thinly able to break through.

The two continue on with that, speaking of, and Leif nods. Making a mental list of everything he'd been told, out comes a cannister of sugar with measuring spoons, a carton of eggs, a bag of flour, a dish of butter, a bowl of cream, and two strawberries— one for each of them.

“ The less we can take the better. I want to share, but my boss is sharing just as much with me to let me be here. We'll use what we need from these and then I'll put them back. ”  Leif slides the shut book over, opening it again to look at the measurements involved, pensive.

Bit by bit, he measures, cutting corners where he can, trying to keep the ratios the same even if he makes the actual amounts smaller. Mise en place forms, and the little ramequins slide off to the side in between him and Alm, who has a metal bowl placed before him alongside a wooden spoon.

Not that competition is relevant right now. Alm simply nods as Leif proceeds with the handiwork. Personally, he had no complaints on what little they had to work with. Alm feels like producing something smaller rather than a big and flashy cake fits the scenario more.

With the first real step ahead of them, Alm takes the chance to loosen his fingers first, some cracks audible as he procures the lessened sugar and egg. “Hard as I want? Sure, here goes nothing!”

Before he can do the hard whipping though, the items to be whipped need to be in there. The sugar gets poured in simply enough. As for the egg, he picks it up with his left hand and provides a somewhat heavy knock from the corner of the bowl. It’s done a bit stronger than desired, but he gets the yolk spilled in without any spills.

With eggshells set aside, Alm collects the spoon and holds the bowl closer. It all seems to be a single step, so he chooses to start mashing without further delay. He’ll leave it up to Leif for when he believes enough is enough.

“...” Alm and cup remain still. So there was another land with a Dark God, sounding nearly indistinguishable from their Fell God. Figures. When the people have nothing left to cling onto other than false idols…they only seem to turn to the same pathetic cycle. It makes his skin crawl.

“You know…” his free fist clenches up, finally deciding upon a way to break the silence. “Back where I’m from, in Ri- Valentia, there was a group of faithfuls to a War Father, Duma. To show their devotion and rise in power, they would capture the souls of women and…sacrifice them to their god. The women would become eternal servants for the cult, and become frightening mages to boot. They were hard foes to take on…literally, of course. But also emotionally…”

Alm looks up with a fake smile at Leif. What was he hoping for this confession to even spark? Sympathy? Relatability? Well, the foreigner was not shy to disclose his share of traumatic stories, so Alm only believes it right to respond in kind. Even if he seems to lack the firsthand experience that Leif had.

He goes for another sip of water…only for his lips to remain parched. Yep, there goes his second glass. Alm eyes if the water bowl is still full enough, only to catch sight of something else and spark an idea.

But as the tone grew darker, leaving Leif uncertain of what to say, as he so often doesn't know even though he feels as if he must try, Alm lends an unexpected light to pierce through.

“ Wha... ”  Leif blinks once then twice, trying to make heads or tails of the unexpected question. He mulls over it, trying to give it earnest thought, before he decides,  “ Oranges, I guess?? The ones where I grew up were good. ”

Big enough to not be left wanting nearly as much as when it came to other fruits either, but also big enough to share if one wanted too. He still remembers in the dark of a lonely room, a woman with golden hair pulling him from there and offering him a slice.

A gift from me to you.

As if Alm has entirely missed his follow-up question, he immediately heads for the various bowls of water. Even his unquenchable thirst would be satisfied by one of these things…but he’s not ready to make another scene at this party, over something so petty no less. He starts simple, filling his own glass with plain water before grabbing a second with his right hand and doing the same. 

Syrup cups are spread between the bowls, and surely the orange one should live up to its name. He lays the glasses down and pours the solid liquid very lightly into both. He squints, noting the first one has a small bit more syrup than the other. Setting the cup aside, Alm returns with the first glass now in his right hand.

“Oranges are the main fruit of where I grew up. Heck, Ram felt like a breeding ground for the things,” Alm chuckles, setting down the one meant for Leif while he returns to his own side. “You’d think I’d be tired of them by now, but I’m never tired of tasting of home.”

And yes, he is still thirsty. But Alm should probably answer that second part before he tries all of Leif’s patience.

He spins his glass slightly, ensuring the liquid sinks down without any water falling out. “I dunno if you chose oranges for a similar reason. For me, it serves as a reminder. That although the places we live in are cruel and unfair, we still love them all the same. And that love is what drives me to keep making my world a better place.”

Matthias 9.5/10HP rallies Alm 9/10HP. Alm gains +4 dexterity for one round!

"Go forth with caution. I should like to see you employ what you've learned from your professors." Personal experience wasn't frowned upon and it wasn't like this was the exam they'd be taking but it was essentially a practice round if one truly wanted to read it that way. "Push no further than you need to, you have others at your back. This is no lone fight."

The same applies to his fellow ruler, the corner of his gaze incapable of ignoring the assault upon Celica by another nearby eye. Concern is natural as a start, but just as natural is the trust in the former priestess’s fighting capabilities. Furthermore, the wayward heal from a staff Leif equipped at his side is enough to keep the fighter focused on his momentum. (Still, he should thank the other man later…)

The sword rises again, seemingly casting another spell that fells a monster on the spot. Very admirable, but if Alm continues to spectate instead of act, Leif’s going to do all of the work! He reaches back for another arrow to-

"Go forth with caution. I should like to see you employ what you've learned from your professors."

A hand that grasps back now refrains as Alm turns back to the stern voice. He heard him speaking up after the first strike was landed, but the student’s attention was honestly more on the beasts ahead. The way the instructor lectures him stings at his chest - but the sting is not a harmful one. Rather the man appears to speak from experience; a veteran merely reminding the fighter to not be reckless.

No lone fight, huh? The right corner of Alm’s lip raises. Now where has he heard that one before?

“Got it, instructor!” Alm remarks with authority, but still a hint of hesitance. That eyeball is rather close…the archer paces back closer to the rest of his party while preparing his bow.

Alm 9/10HP hits Floating Eyeball D 3/6HP with Steel Bow [Roll: 2+4=6; 2+1= -3HP; Floating Eyeball D 0/6HP] Floating Eyeball D has been defeated!

And with a straight (enough) shot, the arrow flings the eyeball that Celica wounded back to return to the earth.

“Their numbers are almost thinned,” Alm sets his bow aside momentarily to overlook the others, “but let’s make sure it stays that way!!”

○○○○○ | ATTRACTION ○○○○○ | AFFECTION ○○○○○ | INTEREST ○○○○○ | LOYALTY ○○○○○ | TRUST

⊹ — ARIES . ≻ how does your muse handle competition ? ≻ what is your muse's biggest regret ? ≻ how does your muse handle losing control ? ≻ how does your muse express their passion ?

⊹ — TAURUS . ≻ what is your muse's most prized possession ? ≻ how does your character show their reliability ? ≻ what is your muse's favorite way to relax ? ≻ what simple things does your muse find joy in ?

⊹ — GEMINI . ≻ how does your muse communicate with others ? ≻ how does your muse handle the duality within themselves ? ≻ is your character predictable ? unpredictable ? ≻ how does your muse react to change ?

⊹ — CANCER . ≻ how does your muse react to emotional manipulation ? ≻ what is your muse's most treasured family tradition ? ≻ what is a cherished memory your muse holds close ? ≻ how does your muse express love & care ?

⊹ — LEO . ≻ does your muse lead others effectively ? ≻ what is your muse's most arrogant behavior ? ≻ is your character confident ? charismatic ? ≻ how does your muse handle being ignored ?

⊹ — VIRGO . ≻ what is your muse's most dedicated project ? ≻ how does your muse assist others in times of need ? ≻ what are your muse's standards for themselves ? ≻ what does your muse find beauty in ?

⊹ — LIBRA . ≻ how does your muse bring balance to their surroundings ? ≻ is your muse a people pleaser ? ≻ how does your muse navigate justice & mercy ? ≻ how does your muse handle having to confront someone ?

⊹ — SCORPIO . ≻ what is your muse's most transformative experience ? ≻ is your muse the jealous type ? are they possessive ? ≻ does your muse engage in introspection often ? ≻ how does your muse deal with obsession ?

⊹ — SAGITTARIUS . ≻ is your muse a workaholic ? what's their view of workaholics ? ≻ what is your muse's most reckless decision ? ≻ how does your muse handle commitment ? ≻ does your muse experience wanderlust ? where would they go ?

⊹ — CAPRICORN . ≻ how does your muse demonstrate their ambition ? ≻ is your muse an optimist , realist, or pessimist ? ≻ does your muse value their legacy ? what have they done to ensure it ? ≻ what is your muse's average daily routine ?

⊹ — AQUARIUS . ≻ what is a cause or a movement your muse is deeply involved in ? ≻ how does your muse handle unpredictability ? ≻ does your muse challenge the status quo ? how ? ≻ what subject or field is your muse passionate about learning ?