let us start the game

She turns over the shoulder he tapped to see the table; a quick nod suffices to signal her understanding of his instruction.

“Can you bring the drinks when they’re ready?” she requests, taking the opportunity to linger by him for a few moments longer. It would be rude to seem overeager to replace the vacating customers. Even the inhabitants of their joint dream probably wouldn’t appreciate being rushed.

The bell over the door chimes as they leave, inviting Chise to claim their seats against the wall. Lingering heat from the metal’s chair previous occupant does nothing to prevent her from sliding into the seat facing the counter, nor does the slight stickiness of the table deter her from propping her elbows up on its surface.

Between this and his ill-fated attempt to give her ice cream the last time they’d met, the favors she owes Akira are stacking up. He’d jumped on this bill faster than she could - she promises herself that the next time will be different.

“I have the table, Akira-san.” Perhaps it’s a little redundant to alert him to her accomplishment, as there was hardly any skill involved, but maybe he’d appreciate knowing there’s a place waiting for him.

It’s not long before they call his name. Akira lifts his hand to get the barista’s attention as he heads up towards the counter. She smiles at him, as per the job’s requirement, and he smiles back of no obligation. Hers grows brighter as he grabs his order and strolls over to his table.

Chise seems to be enjoying herself. There’s a smile on her face, however polite, and it must be nice getting the chance to experience a normal day in a normal life. Well, as normal as being whisked away to another country is.

He rubs at his aching shoulder when he settles into his chair and silently bemoans the fact that he’s not getting any younger. (He’s not even out of his teens yet but all those nights of tricky acrobatics come with a cost.) Akira sighs before taking a sip.

          “   it would.   however   …   ”   here she stalls in her statement,   finding her next thought to be quite ridiculous.   certainly,   these are life-threatening conditions;   one’s armor should not be held higher than her own survival.   yet   …   “   well,   the armor is   …   sentimental;   i can’t simply discard it.   if i put it aside,   i would either have to carry it or place it somewhere.   but there’s no guarantee that i would be able to find it if i hid it away either.   ”

          logically speaking,   it seems sound enough.   but there’s a slight embarrassment to her nonetheless,   feeling quite childlike to hold her armor in such high regard.   but it is from her father   &   one of the few things that tie her connection to him.   “   i’m sorry;   that must seem silly.   ”

He shakes his head, to and fro. There’s nothing silly about it at all.

“Believe it or not, you’re not the first person to tell me that. But don’t you worry! If you ever need a shirt, just let me know and I can hook you up. If you need anything, really.” Perhaps it’s a little forward of her to offer, but since when has that ever stopped her from doing, well, anything?

          perhaps it’s lucina’s fortitude;   perhaps it’s being used to being in dire circumstances.   either way,   she finds herself calm   -   unnaturally so,   despite being trapped in some sort of ever-raging blizzard with only blips of security.   but whereas akira might find his shelter faltering,   the princess’ remains ever strong,   ever permanent   —   a showing of her mental prowess.   lucina has been nothing if not firm.   snow,   with some strange ghoul lurking the premises,   will not change that.

          “   i see.   i’m glad to hear of that.   ”   though the two are allies,   or so lucina would believe,   they do not share the same path.   as much as the warrior would love to accompany akira into something of a more stable environment,   she must walk her own path to find her comrades.   it comes as a relief to hear he’s doing well   -   or as well as he could be.   “   i’m quite used to it,   having traveled to various locations of differing weathers.   this snow is as comparable to that of regna ferox,   one of the lands neighboring the country of ylisse.   ”   she explains,   though shivering slightly as she does so.   a humbled expression appears;   her head shakes.   “   …   however,   that does not mean i do not get cold;   my armor as of right now isn’t suited for these temperatures.   ”

He’s kind enough not to laugh when she shakes; he’s done quite enough of the same himself and chattering teeth have done him no good. Still, he finds comfort in knowing that she’s not so far removed from him.

          “   dire.   the cold remains consistent & there’s no end in sight to the blizzard.   ”   a weary sigh escapes her lips as she draws nearer,   unknowing much of her companion,   but trusting enough to allow herself to settle on the ground. one leg arched with her foot against the ground,   the other lying flat,   lucina leans forward to rest her arms & chin atop her knee.   “   i’ve been traveling for quite some time,   yet it hasn’t let up for a single moment.   i fear it will never end at this rate.   ”

          there’s a grimace appearing on her face,   teeth gritted as her eyebrows begin to furrow.   “   along that,   the spirit that haunts these lands are merciless   —   not fleeing upon sight of her feels more like a death wish.   ”   lucina is a seasoned warrior,   having fought a variety of humans,   creatures,   even a dragon.   yet all of those hold a physical form which she could insert her blade;   how does one stab a ghost   ?   a large breath escapes her,   feeling some of her worries & stress flee alongside it.   her gaze turns upward to meet akira’s.   “   have you been alright   ?   i imagine it’s difficult to manage,   being a civilian.   ”

A moment’s respite is better than nothing. Here, he can gather his strength.

He’s tried before to force himself awake but it never seems to work. Maybe he’s trying too hard. Or maybe his thoughts are too scattered to do it right.

Akira frowns at her assessment of the world beyond their safe haven but he’s not surprised. Knowing the truth is better than groping around in the darkness. Ignorance may be bliss for some but it isn’t his.

His hand is out in the air for just barely a moment before she leaps upon it, grabbing it in her own and heartily shaking it. It’s probably a good thing he went ahead and took the money; she would’ve just spent it on a gift or something of the sort anyway.

“Akira! It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He’s not her type, but he seems like a pretty nice kid. A little hesitant, overwhelmed maybe, but sometimes her personality does that to people. Maybe it was the money? He’d had to think about it, there. Either way, she makes a note to tone herself down.

Just a bit.

Apologies done, introductions made, Soleil reclaims her hand and props it up on her hip as she glances around. The city surrounding them is damp, musty, and full of blurry lights and people. Not her first choice for a haunt, but she might as well familiarize herself with the area. Akira looks like he fits in. What could possibly go wrong with asking for directions?

“Alright, so if I were to meet someone here,” she begins, turning her attention and a smile back to him, tilting her head just so, “where would be the best place to take her on a date? If you don’t know, that’s totally okay! I’m pretty sure I can figure it out on my own if I need to!”

Bubbly, energetic, outgoing... he likes people like her, but it’s second nature to be cautious. Sometimes kindness is just an act. People try to live up to what they think others want. It always hurts to watch them get booed off the stage.

For anyone who wants an event-related thread, here are some ideas:

Tend to one another’s wounds. Aside from the obvious hypothermia, there’s still the usual dangers of a forest: Nasty falls, territorial animals, mythical beings conjured by one’s thoughts... and so on.

Someone build an igloo shelter. Just do it.

Snowball fight, anyone?

          spread throughout the iced landscapes,   there are areas of safety,   golden spheres surprisingly cut in the vast expanse of white.   there must be some sort of magic,   some force at hand to have such magickery occur;   there’s a visible edge of sorts where the snow ends & the grass begins,   one entirely unnatural & unsuited to what nature would normally create.   it would normally have lucina cautious   —   to an extent, she is,   given her hand never releases the hilt of falchion upon entering any of them.   but shelter is shelter nonetheless,   & in comparison to the frigid cold,   lucina would rather face what she may within these meadows.

          but staying in one place in unfamiliar lands is a dangerous concept,   so after she rests enough to regain her strength,   lucina always continues moving in exploration.   she wanders the lands,   taking shelter when able,   attempting to find something.   what,   she isn’t entirely sure   —   though she wouldn’t deny another ally or perhaps a means of escaping these wintry area.

          so when she meets a familiar face after entering yet another one of the golden spheres,   there is some comfort.   though she hasn’t yet familiarized herself with him,   he seems friendly enough   —   she would trust him until he gives her a reason against such.   “   akira,   ”   lucina greets with a nod of her head,   hands rubbing feverishly together to generate some heat,   “   i’m relieved to see a friendly face among the blistering cold.   do you also seek refuge here   ?   ”   //  @satanaelesque

A fire crackles in solemn regard. Laughter echoes throughout the clearing. Every now and again, there is a flap of coarse fabric. Goat hair, in fact.

The scent of mead travels from the encampment. Clashing metal rings through the night air. Pray that the first has not led to the second, good-natured as the duels may be.

Akira fidgets with his blazer. He’s a city boy, through and through. The outdoors chap his lips and dry his eyes. As he clasps his hands to warm them, he hears his name; he turns and spies the woman who’d wandered into his glade.

“What’s so wrong with it?” The offending flower only serves to further amplify their safety from the spirit lurking outside. Amusing as the expression he’s making is, Akira should be grateful for the work it does.

She fluffs snow from her hair, the aftermath from a tumble outside not yet melted by the relative warmth of the golden bubble.

“It might be a little early for Yule, but every bit of protection helps.”

“You’re supposed to kiss under mistletoe,” he deadpans, after which he takes a step away from the offensive sprig. It’s not that she’s unfamiliar with the tradition that upsets him. It’s the darn thing’s insistence that’s fouling his mood.

(And the sense of sudden powerlessness that comes from a lack of control.)

Her foot prods the side of the man on the ground. The middle of nowhere was no place to fall asleep especially when it was impossible to know what really lurked in the woods. Oboro shook her head- no one was really this careless, right? Everyone that was wandering around this dreamland had a safe space, after all. Why wouldn’t he just sleep there? Instead he finds leaving yourself prone to an attack far more appealing?

     “Hey! Don’t you know it’s dangerous to just        fall asleep in the open?”

Oboro takes to poking him with the blunt end of her spear. When his eyes open and he mumbles something about a dream, Oboro sighs. Unbelieveable. This man is just dreaming away completely oblivious to that fact that if she were a Nohrian, he might’ve been dead right now. A strange forest was no place to let your guard down.

Having a cat jump in your lap is one thing. Being prodded by a spear? Considerably worse.

Akira snaps his attention up towards the stranger and notices her outfit. Traditional garb, huh. Must be a part of the dream. He takes another look around and sees the battlefield melting away into the forests.

“I... wasn’t aware that the battle wasn’t over?”

There are no bodies to speak of. No signs of danger either.

“Mistletoe...” he notes in the voice of the defeated. Eyes fixated on the little sprig hanging from above him, Akira tries to will it away because this is his dream, too.

But no amount of squinting will make it budge. Dreaming must work like telekinesis; it’s utter bullshit.