MERCENARY.

Her composure falters for a moment—she had had plans for how to probe further, and they are lost to the wind like dandelion seeds. She can only think of the question sitting squarely at the forefront of her mind:

"You don't like it?"

What is there to like? Truths remain truths regardless of whether or not they are palatable.

"To call it being a tool certainly frames it in a negative light... but does it not satisfy you to play a role in a grander scheme? Isn't the idea of destiny reassuring?"

He doesn't want to make her uncomfortable...but he doesn't want to apologize for being himself or speaking his mind.

"I don't want to be part of some grand scheme. I don't enjoy the idea of destiny. I want to think that my choices matter."

It's an ideological difference at its core. Not easily reconciled.

"I don't want to live at the whims of anyone else. Not a goddess or anyone."

He helped Yune, but that was his own will. And he wasn't her instrument. It wasn't 'divine judgment' he'd helped pass.

His response to the second scenario, similarly, almost strikes her as a sort of innocence. Does he have no enemies that he would be willing to sacrifice himself to fell? Or, failing that, does he not consider that others might feel that way about him?

His battle-hardened exterior belies a sort of softness—or so Poe concludes.

"You put a lot of faith in others, don't you?" She asks, sincere. The girl, who has run through similar scenarios with several others at this point, decides to gently direct the conversation in a different direction; she is inclined to believe that she knows how he will answer, but happily would she be proven wrong so long as it gave her more insight.

His expression is one of almost confusion. He blinks at her, sizing her up properly. He already had a little but he wasn't that focused until now. He suspects she's a mage of some sort based on the softness to her but he doesn't want to assume anything.

"Getting someone out is natural. It would have to be you because I don't think you'd be strong enough to help me physically, but maybe you have a spell or something, or some clever plan. I wouldn't care if you did it through incompetence. If you died for simple incompetence then you'd never learn."

It's simple to him. He doesn't know if she agrees or disagrees. She's really just picking at him a little. Is there a specific answer she's seeking? Does it matter?

"I think the only thing that would make me hesitate is the scenario you presented where you did it maliciously. But for anything else, I wouldn't even pause."

"Assuming some sort of freak accident... yes, that sounds like a reasonable plan. Then from safe ground, I could help you out, or assuming I am unable on my own, I could seek aid." She nods along, thinking it through. Of course it made some level of sense—assuming they were allies, the end goal would obviously be the both of their survival. He would have an easier time lifting her than she would him, so it seemed similarly a given that they would start with what had the greatest odds of success.

...assuming that they were allies being the operative phrase.

"...but would you really do that, not knowing anything of the quality of my character? What if I left you to die?" Poe posits, never one to leave well enough alone. Now begin the real questions; in the situation the question presents with no additional information, few who cared about their own reputation would answer anything other than work together to assure mutual survival.

The girl is far more interested in what happens when that scenario is muddied.

He had initially assumed the question meant they'd both wandered into such a situation but if that wasn't the case...well, he'd just have to let his ideas about the solution adapt a little.

"Those are two different scenarios..." He's looking thoughtful now. "I hope it's okay that I answer them separately."

He holds up one finger. "For the first...even if I had no idea about the quality of your character I'd still try to get you out first. Better than us both dying, right? It would give me a better chance of surviving to assume the best in you. That you'd help me out or run and get someone who could. If I did anything else we'd just both sink together right?"

It's simple. At least to him. He understands doubt but he doesn't let it sway him.

"Then if you ran off and left me there, I'd be mad but it's not like I'd be in a different situation than before. Stuck either way. Dead either way. But the question is about if we'd prioritize ourselves. Which I wouldn't."

A shrug.

He'd try to get himself out then.

Too quickly had she been torn apart from her newest subject of interest. How short each round was! Nothing to do about it but mentally mark notes down for future action and allow herself to be shuffled to her next table amidst the disorder between pairs and questions.

"Oh, a pleasure to meet you!" chirps Poe, with a polite bow of the head. She recognizes the figure she sits across, this time—Ike, hero of Tellius, was it? It would be frankly embarrassing had she not known him from her travels. "Now, what is our question this time..."

With her forefinger and a thumb, the girl plucks the card off the center of the table for herself, bringing it to her face so that she can read it more closely. She doesn't bother to stifle the ensuing titter that escapes her when she makes it to the end of the question.

"...I'm beginning to feel like these questions say more about the people who wrote them than those of us who have to answer them!" Poe proclaims, turning the card around and placing it on the table face-up and sliding it back into its rightful spot in the center. The question itself is odd, but not so much so that she doesn't think she can make use of it.

"Well, it's as good a place as any for us to start regardless. If the two of us were sinking into a sand pit, what would you do, Ike?"

This third round is with a girl who has a strange air about her. He doesn't know what it is but he doesn't feel like he's ever met anyone quite like her. She doesn't waste time though which really makes him feel relieved and instead jumps right into it. He doesn't like preamble.

He frowns as he takes his turn reading the question though. What a strange thing to even ask. Sand pit...? How would one even get into that situation in the first place?

"I guess it's...good to know if someone would help you out...?" he tries, attempting to puzzle through the reason behind this one and what it might say about others. If this 'experiment' was about dating, he'd want someone who he could count on. Was this asking about...reliability?

She addresses him directly. Wait, had he given his name? Maybe they'd met sometime before and he couldn't remember. Shit. He was usually good at names and faces.

He smiled at her and glanced at the question on the slip of paper at their table.

topic: what does the word love mean to you?

What was with all these heavy ones? These topics were big. Last round he'd heard a group talking about beverages. Could he get something like that?

But fine he'd engage in good faith. Offering a sheepish smile he set the card down.

"Love's kind of a... complicated topic isn't it? I love my sister a lot. Oh but this probably means the kind of love couples have. I don't have a lot of experience with that. Always too busy. But what about you? You're a beautiful woman, I bet you know a lot about this."

"Deirdre," she offers her name and her hand should he wish to shake it. He smiles at her and it is comforting, a much kinder smile than her partner's for the last round though she feels terrible for thinking such a thing.

The topic they are given makes her own smile grow even bigger. Love. It is perhaps her favorite subject to speak on even if Ike does not quite seem to share her enthusiasm at first.

"I do not think it needs to be so complicated. And I think the love you have for your sister is just as important and wonderful as the love between a husband and wife." She reaches across the table for his hand, confident in her assessment. "There are many people that I love but I would not consider the love for my husband to be worth more than the love for my children or my friends."

"My sister...her name's Mist. She's a healer, and good with the sword. Smart as anything even if she's sometimes kind of a brat." He smiles fondly. He misses her but he doesn't regret leaving home. "She takes after my dad, I think. Really strong-willed."

Once more, unbidden, his hands curled into fists - this time out of sight, hidden under the table safely in his lap. Sharply, he felt the tug on his heart at that simple statement, that call to life, the press of not just wanting to live, but to live for more.

It was not that he couldn't claim to have thought about what came after, when he was well and truly done with his mission, his vengeance. He knew what lay at the end of the road for him, and felt no envy at the thought of leaving home behind, felt no commiseration at wanting not to be merely a weapon.

Raven gave Ike a small, stilted smile, stiff around the edges. "That's a noble thought. I hope you find that purpose here - or elsewhere. It is...safer, in the end, for the ones you love - either to separate from them, or from everything else.

The smile given is stiff. Ike notices and returns it with one of his own though, open and honest as if by contrast. He doesn't know how to be anything else.

"Roots aren't the most important thing, I think. It's about people, not places."

The hand on the table twitched into a fist, gripped tightly for a moment before Raven noticed himself, tucked his hands into his lap.

"It's good that you fear for your family. What's..." What's left. His eyes flicked to Lucius across the hall, brief, then a shake of his head, so slight it might have gone unnoticed. "To protect what's left is... Men like us need something to fight for. It's easy to get lost without that tether."

It was clear from the other man's demeanor that he was willing to be open if pressed, and it was clear, too, that he held a certain guilelessness that Raven had not in longer than he could remember. The call of like to like was a strong one, and he felt its tug, but each word remained measured and careful nonetheless.

He relaxed a little at this realization that maybe they're somewhat similar. He could tell the other probably came from a different background but he couldn't pin down what it was without more info. He wouldn't pry either. Ike didn't like pressing people to reveal things about themselves unless there was a reason.

The way eyes flick toward someone else in the room made Ike's expression soften a little. He didn't look to see exactly who was glanced at. Not one to pry or look like he was prying. "I care a lot about my family. It's...technically just my sister left but my mercenary company are all kind of like my family, too. I'd do anything to keep something from happening to them. So in a way I let fear make me stronger rather than let it cripple me."

They were definitely something to fight for. Even if they could all protect themselves now. Even Soren, even Mist.

Maybe it was kind of simplistic but it made the exercise make more sense to him. All the tables and chairs and people chatting. They were close enough to overhear snippets but Ike wasn't really listening to how anyone else was doing. If he did that he'd just get nervous.

The fewer the number of fears, the greater the impact. That was a good way of putting it.

Something he found to be true. He tried to emulate his father always. Greil who feared almost nothing until it all finally caught up to him and who had stood strong all the way down.

"I don't fear for myself either. The only thing that really scares me is losing what's left of my family." He glances to the side. "It's not a very interesting answer, but part of my father's training was making sure fear wasn't on my mind."

--

apple strudel - who was your muse's first crush? do they still have feelings for that person?

baklava - does your muse believe in true love? soulmates?

cannoli - how does your muse express love? how do they act when in love that differs from how they act around normally?

chouquette - does your muse believe they deserve to be loved? why or why not?

croissant - what is your muse's ideal date?

eclair - do they want to one day be married?

inipit - what qualities do they seek in a partner? describe physical qualities and personality traits?

lattice pie - what kinds of gifts do they like to give to/receive from their partner?

macaron - what do they do after having a fight with their partner?

makmur - what role does forgiveness play?

mille-feuille - do they believe friends can become lovers? if so, when does love transcend from platonic to romantic? if not, why?

“Don’t worry though, I’m familiar with this spell, I can fix it…” he said, still weirded out by his suddenly deep voice. He practiced this spell before, when he was younger. His teacher once told him to try and understand the perspective of the animals of the forest, so Ewan, in his 13 year old genius, used this spell to swap with a deer. Saleh had to bail him out that time, but now would be different! He still had a human body after all. He prepared to cast a spell, ready to put an end to this nightmare. And….. ah. Even when he fully concentrated, all that came out was a weak sputter that could hardly even count as magic at all. Trying again, the results were the same. It was like trying to juice a lemon that had already dried up. Absolutely no magic energy flowed out at all.

"It's not rude to point it out. A lot of mages are built like this, barely any muscle to speak of." He sometimes wondered how Soren managed, but if a mage could just speak and have things happen, why bother training the body to the same extent as someone like him? It was a relief to know the spell could be reversed. His eyes widened a little as he watched Ewan try to cast though. That wouldn't go well...

"No," he answered. He really didn't have a drop of magic. He'd tried a few times here and there mostly when he was younger. Rhys had tried to go over even the most basic healing spells with him. He'd never been able to fix anything bigger than a papercut. Not even to think about a powerful spell like whatever it would take to undo this.

He brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Uh... sorry. I really can't cast a spell to save my life."

That's what he usually had other people around him for but there wasn't really anyone here he could go to about this.

Now this really felt like old times. Ike had had plenty of lessons like this in his day though not usually with so much, uh, enthusiasm. The instructor in charge of this one was really something else, wasn't he? Ike wasn't about to get caught.

When he'd wanted to see how good he was at 'keeping his composure,' this wasn't really what he had in mind but he had to admit it was kind of fun.

He'd been partnered up with a student, which was no problem at all. Not one of the Golden Deer, so not someone he knew. That didn't matter, he was here as an equal to her anyway, not as her instructor. Someone eager to test his skills and learn something new if possible.

He sprinted off as instructed, but not before checking that the student he was paired with was still with him.

"Keep up, we can take on these traps together. Not that you look like you'll have any trouble keeping pace."

Ike laid out the sets of cards in front of them. "Okay. So if I have this right, this should be enough packs for us each to build a usable deck. Dunno how good those'll be but it should be enough to learn the ropes with."

Ike's never played games like this. As a kid the sorts of games he'd played were mostly training drills in disguise. Occasionally Mist could talk him into playing some kind of pretend games but even that often turned into playfighting or racing or something else physical. These kinds of games were new to him.

Could be fun though. Ike saw it as a chance to kick back and enjoy himself for once.

King Tibarn was probably just as unfamiliar. They'd be on the same page, hopefully. That meant they could take it easy.

He finished sorting them. Monsters, spells, traps. Simple enough. He's not about to actually read the descriptions of any of these before he actually starts playing or anything. Just get a nice split, where both players have about the same number of each type of card... yeah, that should be good.

he's learned it. but that didn't mean he liked it. it was never as comfortable.

he did notice ike looking, though, and let out an amused huff. "nice try. but you should come at this from a place of memory. you'll describe what your client was accused of, then start giving information like his alibi to prove he's innocent."

simple enough, hm?

"Right. Right he was across the monastery so it's likely he couldn't have done it. I should call on those witnesses right?"

It sounds simple when it's laid out like this. Straightforward, like a problem that can be solved if Ike just keeps pushing. He's good at that, good at pushing. He likes when things are straightforward. He likes when people are honest.

He knows the point of the exercise is that that won't always be the case. But he could dig honesty out of them probably.

Even if Ike was more likely to win. But it was never about winning. Was it? Not to him. It was about testing limits. Getting better. Proving himself. Seeing what the other person can do.

"We can make time to practice together. Just like old times, hm?"

Ike was at ease too. An easy smile formed on his face. This was how it was supposed to be. Spending time apart from his best friend just wasn't right.

He smiled. "Okay. If I want anything, I'll come to you first. How does that sound?" It went without saying surely that this would always be the case.

And it was reassuring to know that they'd be kept busy. But if Soren was being put to work even as a student, that raised an eyebrow from Ike. Still it wasn't up to him how this place was run.

Soren smiled in return, a little closer to Ike. "Good. No matter what."

Ike seemed a little perplexed at the implication of everything that happened at Garreg Mach, but Soren wasn't about to lay all of the close calls and world ending crises on him upon arrival. Give it a week, maybe. He just shrugged, smile still on his face, unable to cast off the elation that Ike simply being there brought. His life could be objectively worse in every way, but if Ike was there, it didn't matter.

At Ike's own always to him, Soren may have once struggled to believe it, but he only shot Ike a more playful look than anyone else could get out of him.