ソレイユ

devotedscholar​:

Gripping his side as if it might stop the bleeding (he knew it wouldn’t), a flash of pink caused him to step back a bit. Pink, followed by more red. Erk stumbled forward with a painful inhale, but she was only injured - not downed. Not yet. 

A scream. Louise. That was right. His thinking was fuzzy from pain. Breathing still. Both of them. Good. She was telling them to leave. He sucked in a shaky breath, forcing himself to calm down. He couldn’t do that - no here, not now. He had the feeling somehow it’d not make a difference - there wasn’t anywhere for them to go. Even if he could hobble the two of them away, then what? There was also a strange, nagging feeling - what was it? Perhaps it was the fault of the wound, but colours were… “Wait-”

Whatever sort of protest was lost - forgotten - at the sound of steel meeting flesh. That didn’t sound good. His hand seemed to move on instinct to his chest - he was the one who had been stabbed. That was even worse. There was an uncomfortable sound as the myrmidon slid his sword out. That seemed enough of a catalyst for his legs to give out and he fell to his knees, one hand shakily supporting him from falling over completely, the other still holding onto his side.

His face was wet, he thought. Was it sweat? Tears? Couldn’t tell. Probably both. He’d promised to protect her. (Did he? He couldn’t remember anymore.) 

Every breath hurt. Did it? There was a stinging numbness, but he also thought himself in pain. (How frustrating to not be able to parse ones own feelings easily.)

Vision was blurry. Couldn’t tell why. (It was quite early in the morning, so it wasn’t too bright out, yet. That had to be why.)

It started going dark.

Erk hoped Louise wouldn’t be too cross with him for not listening to her.

-> @sunisoleil​

the screams of the lady rings throughout; and though the air was littered with pain and the bloodied scent of musk, it was clear as day to soleil. soon after comes the despondent twang of a bowstring, and the untimely miss as the arrow flies wildly of course; the imperial soldier does not falter in their movements. it’s enough to seed fear in her heart and get her back up to her feet; and she springs— holds her side tight as red soaks and stains her once-white gloves. the darkness seems to blink; encompassed by blood and brutality, shoving the world further into the night. 

she hears the mage cry out; and she lurches forward— her heart sings screams at her to do something. her tongue, once wet with pretty words and sweet nothings goes dry; devoid of water as she grates it against the top of her mouth, ultimately tasting the roughness of desert sand. amber eyes begin to dull as they weigh; downcast, watching as the mage crumbles to the ground, meeting his own blood that had soaked the earth. 

the slickness of blade against blood was utmost disgusting, and the squelch just furthered soleil’s repulsion. it wasn’t as though this was the first time she’d seen such a scene, nor the second, or third, but her stomach wound itself into knots and bile rose like the water of an overflowing dam in her throat. her face twists into desperation as she faces the mage, wordless as his cheek falls to the ground—there was nothing more she could do.

so she doesn’t do anything.

instead, she runs towards the woman; ignores her screams and shouts of protest as much as she can— and leads her away. there’s a desperate hold soleil has on her arm; and while she tries her best to curl her lips upwards, her cheeks and eyes furiously blink back tears. she hated this.

TO SHATTER A HART. — ♡

The cry that cut through the air was a tangle of voice, half the low, bellowing call of the great stag, and the sharper, distinctly human scream of a man. Camilla watched as the beast staggered and collapsed, the lance still protruding from where it had pierced clean through the skull and through the lower jaw, and where it lay on the ground, thick tendrils of black fell limp to the earth, melting into the cracks and crevices.

The princess turned her gaze away. She did not linger to find out if the twitching, parasitic form of the husk would disintegrate and leave behind the broken core of Duke Riegan… Didn’t want to know if the seed had been planted in him in preparation for their arrival, or if their presence had been what spurred that growth of that distrust. How it consumed him whole.

Flakes of dried blood clung to the thin leather as Camilla dragged her hand through her hair and slowly walked back to Shigure and Sumire… (Safe. Whole. The small blessings.) They could breathe before they had to bury their dead. The last vestiges of the Alliance forces, and then some. 

The Imperial Army would arrive to find the battlefield empty.

her weapon falls from her hands.

             and she crumples to the floor along with it.

the ground lets her knee sink into it like an animal sinks it’s teeth into prey; but unlike the animal, she doesn’t tear away. lungs work in a frenzy to provide her the air to live— after all that had been lost. she’d watched as the dragon-winged girl ahead drove it’s spear right into the beast, heard it scream and writhe in it’s painful last moments. soleil didn’t even know what to think; part of her should feel accomplished, hateful even— but the other simply feels remorse. 

in her peripheries, lady camilla turns and excuses herself from the scene. the carcass trembles, whatever darkness left of it seeping into the earth, deep below. death wasn’t new, no. but the number of times you’d have to see it never numbed the next. 

quietly, she stands. her sword is messily sheathed; shield strapped to her back. everything she feels is sore, and her face contorts between a sob and a smile. her steps are slow towards the dead, but she continues to move; eyes set on the messy shock of blue hair, laced with grime and blood. he’s as expressionless as he was alive, but she couldn’t really judge— she hadn’t known him for that long anyway. the strings of her heart twang regretfully. she could’ve.

soleil crouches down next to him. 

TO SHATTER A HART. — ♡

°。☾ 。° — The small dragon gets knocked out of the air for a moment, and Ricken could do nothing but distract it with wind magic to keep it from pursuing her for long. It docks out of the way, but at least she’ll be safe for another moment. “Just hold on for a while longer! I’ll keep it distracted! ”As he’s about to start chanting again, his body loses strength and he falls completely to the floor, face planted on dirt and mud once more. “H-huh?” He’s confused. He was fine just a moment ago, dishing out spells like usual. All he needs to do is say the incantation, form the sigil, and — “Hgggh!” 

( It hurts… )

He’s endured it long enough. It wasn’t just the cuts from earlier. If he lifted his shirt, he’s sure an ugly purple would greet him if he looks at his chest after being rammed and trampled on by the monstrosity. The blood loss is getting to him too… 

Trembling hands try to lift itself up, but fails.

   Ricken misses his attack on the Cervid Husk! 3.5/40 HP

The monstrosity must have taken pity on him. It’s aim doesn’t improve even if Ricken is the easiest target now on the field. Wind that could have sliced him so easily miss and fly pass him. 

 Cervid Husk misses his attack on Ricken! Status: CRITICAL

— @sunisoleil​

it’s faltering, and they all know it. if they could just hold out a little longer, hit a little harder, it’d be over. they were so close, and for the sake of those who couldn’t see to it that the beast was slain— soleil had to honour them. weakened hooves pounds against the earth, rising slightly and falling in a expectant decrescendo. her eyes flicker upwards; the dragon falls out of the sky, and the mage fails his spell, crumbling to the ground.

the husk (perhaps that was the right word, it surely seemed that way,) of an animal— the thought that this might’ve once been human was unfathomable— shakes with a frail rage, forcing intemperate currents of wind towards the mage. it’s flimsy and wild; it blows strongly but only past him. 

soleil winces as the mage narrowly misses, but doesn’t quite leave what he’d said earlier totally unacknowledged. with an affirming nod, she braces; charges ahead towards the unassuming beast, backhanded attack from the behind.

                                                                                   but she misses.

soleil misses the cervid husk! -0hp 3.5/40 hp left.

where the tip of her sword supposedly met dark, rotten-presenting fresh, there was only air. the beast turns in it’s panicked frenzy, a monstrous screech piercing the air once more— but not before soleil manages to shield herself from it’s hind legs, thrown back to the ground behind. gods damnit, they were so—! ugh, they would simply just have to try harder. 

she circles for an opening, but none present themselves to her. soleil could only hope that it was not the same for those she fought beside.

TO SHATTER A HART. — ♡

°。☾ 。° — The books lied when they mentioned Wind is less powerful than the other Animal spells. Ricken kept running as he attacked, out of fear the demonic beast would get to him. He’s seen it pierce his companions throughout this fight, yet what gets to him is not the antlers, but a sharp gust of wind, encompassing the entirety of the open plains. Ill-equipped and with nothing to defend himself with, Ricken feebly attempts fight wind against wind to shield himself.

                                                             𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜 𝖘𝖐𝖞 —

He fails to even finish his incantation, magic circle shattering before his eyes as he’s bombarded with sharp wind. Robes torn, flesh cut, Ricken realizes it’s not the quick death fire brings upon he should fear, but the torture the deathly winds offer them.  

    Cervid Husk Critically Hit Ricken! Status: CRITICAL

When the wind has subsided, Ricken falls to his knees, cuts of varying depths all over him. In a matter of seconds, he’s painted red. The sweet escape of death tempts him, the stinging pain unbearable. He can still move if he tried — ( do i want to try? )  — a voice told him he’ll awaken back in the roads should he suffer a lethal blow, but another begged not to go down that route. To escape death is one thing, to experience repeatedly is another.

It’s a loud crunch that brings him back to his senses. Where the monster is, another man lies before it. The Professor of their time failed to outrun the beast, and in turn — ( no, it’s okay! he’ll live! he’ll live! ). Death was never easy to witness. The trembling returns, and with a gaped mouth, Ricken extends his open palms once again. He relies on the thought the Professor will return. He speaks through the fear and the doubt, a ruby red sigil right below the monster and what remained of the Professor. 

                                                   𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖌-𝖉𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖘𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝖆𝖘𝖑𝖊𝖊𝖕 𝖎𝖓 𝖉𝖚𝖘𝖙,                                                     𝖆𝖜𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖋𝖑𝖆𝖒𝖊, 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖑𝖉 𝖊𝖓𝖌𝖚𝖑𝖋!

From below, earth and fire collide, magma erupting in a giant burst, coating both the menace and the victim.

    Ricken hit the Cervid Husk for 3 dmg! 10.5/40 HP

Still on his knees, Ricken expects the creature to charge at him again. Instead, it flails through the magma, summoning forth more gusts of wind, this time, less accurate, more random than aimed. Ricken covers his face with his arms, his cuts deepened, but nothing as severe as the first.

  Cervid Husk Barely Hit Ricken! Status: CRITICAL

— @sunisoleil​

it’s so hard to understand the depth of death until it stares you in the face and screams.

the ground seems to swallow her whole; starting with her feet, planting them into dirt to lie and wilt and rot. she doesn’t even hear shigure’s singing ( it’s beautiful enough to entrance, but not enough at this moment,)— her eyes don’t tear away to look, not when the stag makes a noise; shrewd body of its own seemingly writhing. she continues to watch, even when his weapon falls to ground with a pathetic, dull sound— and his body is tossed to the side.

then soleil feels sick.

blade rises high into the air; she runs without knowing— towards the stag, towards her professor’s murderer, and she strikes, 

                              ( pink mixes with red in a violent haze. )

soleil attacks the cervid husk! -2.5hp, 8/40 hp left.

the stag howls, gruesome in it’s pain; the pattern becomes familiar. magic sparks on it’s skin; pulses outwards; but soleil is already bracing. shield up, shoulders back— she pushes any and all weak magic attacks aside, shield barely forced back. 

no matter what, she won’t let the professor’s death be in vain.

TO SHATTER A HART. — ♡

°。☾ 。° — Witnessing the regenerating monster was mortifying and would have been disheartening if not for the strong resolve of those that stand with him. He has ways to go, much to learn. But if they are to stand tall and fight, then so shall he!

Another long exhale, hands outstretched and lifting the unseen. Focus. A muttered word later, and the fruit of his studies taking form. Release. The ground quakes in the path of the rampaging stag, fire erupting once again and disrupting its movement once more.  

     Ricken hit the Cervid Husk for 2 dmg! 19.5/40 HP

The lava spreads, and the dark eyes of the angered creature finds Ricken mid-casting. The spell disappears, and the young mage makes a run for it. It’s coming towards him again — ( No, the antlers. At least dodge the antlers! Move, legs, move! ) “A-ah!!”

   Cervid Husk Barely Hit Ricken! Status: Injured (Yellow) 

Ricken’s face meets the ground as he leaps to the side, barely dodging another ram. His body already ached from one hit alone. If he’s not careful for even moment..!

— @sunisoleil​

when soleil had thought of bringing some girls to watch this beast’s magic blow up into pretty, sparkly nothings, she did not include the part where ripped flesh would build itself anew, leaving a bad taste in her mouth. gods, the sight was awful— which god (or gods, collectively,) even made this thing? as far as soleil knew, she didn’t want to find out.

without wanting to endure such a scene much longer— nor waste time and allow the beast to regenerate, soleil readies herself for the next opening. her eyes dart as the professor successfully breaks off part of the foe’s antlers, and grimaces. that had to hurt; but seeing how the beast had been battering them thus far, it wasn’t unjust. next, the mage pulls the same fire trick— but the outcome wasn’t nearly as graceful as byleth’s. 

as the beast’s antlers pierce into nothing, it shakes, frenzied; loss of a target apparent. there! soleil bounds towards it, bracing her sword on her right and shield on her left— and she strikes.

soleil attacks the cervid husk! -2.5hp, 19/40 hp left.

the monster howls, and the sound is ghastly— almost as if it weren’t a beast at all; not with that voice. it thrashes like an animal in pain, and soleil barely misses getting crushed under it. retreating to the outer rim of the site of the battle, she nods to caeldori, a confident grin on her face. “go for it, dori!”

gathering information

Mist nods at the professor’s suggestion, and the proposed plan. Go their separate ways, gather info, and then meet back to exchange what they’ve found. It wasn’t an uncommon thing to do during reconnaissance missions that her old mercenary group would take, so the cleric had no problem digging her heels in and playing her part.

After splitting up, Mist heads to different spots in town, playing the role of a girl down-on-her luck, seeking to find a part-time job. The townspeople seemed distrustful of her though, or unwilling to accept such a strange girl into their employment (which was rude, she didn’t think she was so strange at all, but it isn’t until later that she realizes her Officer’s Academy uniform hadn’t helped matters in the slightest).

She heads back to the meeting place later in the day, playfully saluting to the others, though the gesture is half-hearted at best. Not much information was found on her end, so she was hoping her companions had more luck. What Cordelia found seemed promising, at least.

“Ah, not much luck here, either! How about you guys?”

@sunisoleil​

soleil nods cheerfully, confidence abundant, and takes off into the direction of the town’s cafe. if it’s anything she’s inherited from her father, it’s was her big smile and skill with wooing women (some may argue that her own ability at the latter were far superior, but she’d never agree!), and when she steps in the cafe she’s pleased to see so many cuties around. she slides up to one by the windows, occupying the seat opposite of her with an inviting grin.

though the woman had been tentative at first, soleil easily lowered her suspicion of her; and soon the two were cracking jokes and, if she might say so herself, flirting. it’s not long before they breach the topic of where soleil had come from— or what she intends on doing in such a town in the middle of a war, and the mercenary shrugs. words and explanations weren’t her strong point if she were being completely honest, but it seems to get the point across. when the lady pulls out her purse and extracts some gold and slides it across to soleil, her mouth drops. “oh... word?”

“you sound like you could need it,” the lady replies sweetly, and places a hand over soleil’s own. the mercenary nearly gasps; her face flushes, a dark shade of red to match with the pink of her hair. slowly recovering, she squeezes the woman’s hand, a warmth that spreads to her smile. then, soleil pauses, and sits up straight. that’s right... they were here to gather information. she looks around the cafe, then back towards the lady. 

“you don’t happen to know the current year in fódlan, do you?” soleil pipes up, suddenly. the lady frowns, searching soleil’s face— she couldn’t be serious, could she? she opens her mouth to speak, but is interrupted by one of the bartenders. 

“what, have you been living under a rock? it’s 1185.”

the woman sighs, leaning towards soleil as she opens her mouth once again. “the new year has passed, debbie, it’s 1186,” her face is resigned as she adds, as an afterthought, “though there hasn’t been much to celebrate recently...”

soleil nods slowly, lips folded in empathy. 1186? that couldn’t be right. she’d gotten here... roughly five years before. it couldn’t be possible that they’d travelled through time, could it? she shakes her head. if anything, that was information gathered, and their group would find it useful some way or another. when it’s clear there’s nothing more she can procure from the cafe, she excuses herself; raising the lady’s hand to kiss the back of her palm. straightening up, she winks. “well, i should be off. here’s to hoping we meet again, my lady.” 

once they’d regrouped at their rendezvous, soleil places her hands on her hip to see what the others had managed to find. she grimaces when cordelia, who looked worse than she’d saw her earlier, raises an arrowhead. mist is empty-handed. unfortunate. “seems like you two got the rough of it,” soleil sighs; how could people treat two incredibly promising, beautiful women like this? she shakes her head, frustration buried. people these days had no tact. finally, she raises up her bag of gold, jangling the money around with a small smile. “well, a cutie was kind enough to give me some money,” her heart warms at the memory, before her tone turns serious once again. “and i found out that it’s currently the year 1186. which is weird, isn’t it? we weren’t very close to that year... at all.”

devotedscholar​:

The sound of steel on steel was too was much too loud to ignore. He woke with a start and what was happening hit like a bunch of bricks. Scrambling to his feet in the early morning haze, Erk stared out at the scene unfolding in front of him. How bothersome. It was war though, so he supposed it couldn’t be helped.

Taking a few steps out, his mind clicked - Louise! Where was she? He bolted out into the sea of battle, searching for the familiar blonde locks. Spotting them just in time to spot the splash of blood he bee-lined for the soldier in question, the splash of red on the end of the lance a tell-tale sign. 

Flame sparked up on his fingers, but as he was about to cast, an Alliance soldier slammed into his back and he stumbled forward, the spell fizzling out as he caught himself on the ground. Using the opportunity, the soldier followed up, the lance sliding through his side. 

Gritting his teeth to try and hold back a cry of pain and tears, the mage stumbled backwards. Shit, that hurt. But he couldn’t just let himself fall immediately - others, not just Louise, were relying on him. They needed all the help they could get.

-> @sunisoleil !!

sweat, tears, stampedes, screams. images and sounds that were visceral, recognizable long after pain was gone, after sleep was regained and happiness easily found. she wakes up to shouting; pained gasps, the squelch of blade against blood and organ— a scream. it’s cold, how early? the sun hasn’t risen. how many deaths, already? how many defenseless, how many injured, how many in need of—

the mercenary bolts outside, steps swayed by the suddenness of it all. metal against metal and metal against tongue, mouth dry when teeth dig deep into her lip. soleil grips onto the hilt of her sword, harder than she can— gods know that too tight of a grip was bad form,— and she brings her shield closer to her body, advancing. bleary is the world in her eyes as she squints against the early dawn, trying to make of it what she can; a flash of magic, there ( another scream ), red that drips over the tents in such a gory fashion that she sought to wipe it all away.

and then, there it was: a wisp of blonde, bleak golden then depraving red, a choked voice, staggering form imminent. in her peripheries, the spark of magic that grew at another’s hand, and just as quickly as it had come- diminishes into nothingness as the caster’s body slammed forward. soleil gasps, and she charges forward. the mage had not fallen completely, but the soldier— imperial, as she had just recognized it— reveres in spontaneity, and a previously stainless lance is stained as it cuts cleanly through the mages side. 

lungs burn as do her legs; presses forward, strides larger, her hands swing by her side, pushing her body. the soldier sees her coming, and falls into a braced position; lance protruding and ready to stake, blood-tipped end meant for soleil’s own flesh. determination courses through her, pain and remorse blinding better plans of action, and she slides. sword forward, catch the soldier by the chips in the armor by the torso and— pain shoots up her back. it chokes a gasp in her throat; iron fills her mouth and ground wipes itself on her body as she’s thrown to the side, lance leaving the wound in her back. she rolls over, gasping— what happened to her smiles...? she couldn’t... this wasn’t it, was it? to end with such an expression on her face— that’s... just pathetic.

healingmist​:

Mist’s frown deepens when she sees that the rest of her companions are in the same boat—confused, poor, and tired. Well, that last one definitely applied to some of them more than others. The cleric keeps a concerned eye on Soleil and Cordelia as they speak. For as well as they were managing to carry themselves, it was clear that they weren’t in their best shape. The strange sickness that plagued half of their group was just another alarming aspect of this whole crazy situation, and Mist hated that she couldn’t do more to help.

She was a healer, for Goddess’ sake! If anything, mending wounds and soothing souls was supposed to be the one thing she could do.

But, jobs. That she could do, too. A gal tended to pick up a few skills doing odd chores for a busy mercenary group. At the Professor’s suggestion, Mist nods, adding, “That’s a good idea! I could probably find something in town… like cleaning, or something to do with cooking? Hmmm… I’m sure there are plenty of odd jobs we can find.”

At Cordelia’s suggestion, Mist glances over at the smithy, brow furrowing with concern as she turns back to the other woman. “You sure?” With a kind smile, she gestures to the healing staff strapped to her back—thankfully one of the few possessions that found its way here with her. “If you need some more healing, I’m happy to lend a hand.”

She turns to Soleil, “You too! It might not be much, but it can at least alleviate some of that ickiness you’re feeling.”

@progenitorheart​, @sunisoleil​, @lareinacordelia​

soleil felt the damned sun beat upon her back, shifting her weight uneasily. she didn’t remember a time where her body hated the sunlight; it would’ve been wholly ironic to her namesake. she brings a hand to her mouth, turning away and coughing into her glove. gods, she really, really feels like absolute ass. shaky hands rectifiy her collar, facing downwards and keeping the light out of her face; somewhat listening to what cordelia was saying. she’d also been affected by that.... whatever it was, hadn’t she? it really didn’t seem like it to her. or maybe that was just the power of being an incredible woman. 

                                                                  —yes, she thinks cordelia’s very cool.

bringing a hand to her chin, soleil looks in the direction of the village; tapping thoughtfully. “i guess i could do some mercenary work, then. it’s what i’m best at, after all!” she announces after a moment, then reaches back confidently and grasps around— nothing. she turns. pats her pockets. oh. the would-be mercenary looks at the rest of the people in her little group with a profound expression, a nervous smile curving at the corners of her lips. “er... guess not. maybe i could work at a cafe—?” granted, she didn’t have any experience with cafes, or at least, working in them; but she’d be down to try. come on, who’d turn down a springy young woman with a penchant for flirting and a willingness to work for minimum wage? certainly not her, that’s for sure.

she turns to cordelia when mist offers the other woman a chance of alleviating their ails, and then gives mist a surprised look when she turns towards her. “o-oh! really?” if, somehow, the sun was terrible to her before, the familiar shade of red that bloomed on her face whenever she was around a girl made it bearable. she scratches the back of her neck, smiling awkwardly. “then... sure. thanks, sweet thing! you’re real lovely.” she winks with a smile in her eyes, and hopes that it didn’t turn out odd.

progenitorheart:

Byleth reacted to waking up on the ground after distinctly going to sleep in his quarters just about the same way he reacted to everything else, which is to say he didn’t. Blinked a few times, periwinkle hues taking in the surroundings before rising to his feet and trying to help those who’d been brought here in a similar fashion. ( here looked familiar, come to think of it… searches his memory for a name to put to the grassy fields stretching almost endlessly to the south. gronder? ) Some were visibly faring worse compared to others—perhaps the most worrying part of their current situation, as he was sure they’d been perfectly healthy the last time he saw them…

As it turns out, none of them have a clue as to what happened. There is a town nearby, though, and it’s only natural information gathering is in order to see what they can learn. Not to mention they need supplies, having woken up with next to nothing save their weapons and equipment.

Except they have no money. Like Mist, searching his own clothing turns up nothing, and the professor frowns. Glances to the third member of their group, though Byleth doubts Soleil will spontaneously produce gold from her pockets and save them the trouble of finding another way to pay for food and medicine. “…If we don’t have anything to buy food with, our next best option is to look for work and earn the funds to cover what we need,” he muses aloud. “We can’t return empty-handed. What do you two think?”

// next: @sunisoleil or @lareinacordelia

soleil knew one thing when bleary vision found harsh sunlight, and that was: she felt like utter shit. it felt like the effect of a spell she’s fallen victim to more than once, but it hurt twice as much and remained deep in her skin. and there is sweat sticking on the back of her neck, and underneath, the soft tickle of blades of grass, but there is a faint sense of iciness that lingers in her chest, though she is soaked in sunlight. 

(...a pathetic hand raised, an attempt to take back what is hers— the beat stops in her own body but stays in her ears, ringing like the last church bells of the day. the last thing she heard... a faint growl in the distance, a warning on the lips of a beastly storm. what did that voice mean? who was the sun-kissed, gold antlered man? the emblem of distrust...?) pushing such thoughts aside, soleil had focused more on getting up; trying to place herself in new surroundings (which she would later come to know as ‘gronder fields’ from an unacquainted classmate). twenty-three other people... were obviously here, like the voice had claimed. half of them seemed to be fine and the other half— seemed to be in about the same state she was. she shakes her head, mussing her hair back and trying to regain some sense into her skin. (why did she feel so...?) then she blinks, forcing a hard exhale out of the confines of her chest (which pained her, though she would never admit). If some silly dream would steal her heart (and the rest of her things), literally, and pull twenty-three other people into this mess, she might as well try her best to get to the bottom of it.

    —✰— and so she finds herself besides to two people on their way to a nearby village;  of which one was her professor, and the other, a girl named ‘mist’— who was, admittedly, really cute, but soleil figured that this wasn’t the time. with a hand that shielded squinting eyes, there is a tired smile painted on her face, though it seemed more weary than genuine; a wounded attempt to cover a visible injury. she tilts her head at mist’s statement, and then turns towards the professor— though it takes longer than she would’ve liked for her to process the proposal. 

“sounds like a plan,” her voice betrays the cheeriness it usually held, but soleil tries her best to wear it with nonchalance. she gives the other two what she hoped was a grin— but probably ended up looking slightly like a lopsided smile. “where do you suppose we could find jobs to do? ... would people even hire us?”

it is not so often advised that you go, running about in trashed stables, trying to pin down a pegasus here and trying not to lose an arm via wyvern there. in fact, one might say that only fools go running into such a task— and would undoubtedly get hurt in the process; giving in no such reward to those who go blindly about, and attempting to help without direction.

        which is what soleil does.

 seeing as she herself had little time left in the semester (of which she was transferred to this school, questionably), the only reasonable thing she could do was to search for extra credit. which is precisely why the words ‘stables’, ‘repair’, and ‘extra credit’ were all so very attractive to her! but, you see, there’s no way soleil could do this on her own— sure, the reparation part sounds fine enough, but animals were another story entirely. oh, if only she knew someone who was good with animals…

        —and that is why she finds herself directly in front of shigure’s dorm at seven o’clock in the morning.

truthfully, soleil hadn’t expected them to accept (and she would’ve been just a tiny bit disappointed, is all), but sweet sweet shigure, bless their heart— is just too kind for their own good. and soleil couldn’t be any more grateful for them.

—☾

a satisfying crackle sounds as the sole of boots meet fresh straw, setting the sole of leather boots firmly onto the ground. soleil had had low expectations, but, dear Gods; this place was veritably an absolute mess. she is only by the entrance, but she’d rather be more cautious with her step before she dares proceed any further. with an eye set on the wyverns that hissed and skittered by the large stacks of hay (which were undoubtedly not supposed to be there,) and pegasi wrangling out of fellow stablehands’ grasps, she turns, slowly, towards shigure.

“hey,” she starts, and the tone in her voice is not very inspiring to those who were looking to be efficient, “so… you know a thing or two about animals, yeah?” soleil is pretty sure shigure remembers the time she’s caught them speaking to animals, and also… everything else about them that seemed very magical princess-like, so she presses on. “why don’t we make a game out of this, eh?” 

there is nothing about this situation to be made into a game, but common sense and the practise of good-reasoned caution be damned. “whoever can wrangle the most animals wins,” she announces, tapping her heart twice with a closed fist. somehow, shigure doesn’t look too concerned in her eyes, and on that note soleil quickly adds in, “also, you can’t use your singing. game?”

By mid-winter, the students at the academy are getting restless from being cooped inside for so long. The remaining faculty have decided to spice up the monotony by employing a few of the students to help them chip blocks of ice out of the pond. [Grants Authority +1]

it’s not that late in the morning when soleil finally gets onto the ice. five minutes till’ two o’clock! what? listen; it is definitely not her fault that so many of the girls at this school were super adorable, and also not her fault that they were super easy to talk to. trust her, she really, really was going to the equipment storage just to find a pick ax. really. but it didn’t help that the person on duty today was a girl and also, like, completely gorgeous? being so pretty had to be illegal; it was incredibly distracting. and she talked to her! gods, can you imagine? and she was smiling so warmly, and had her hair tied up in such a way that it beautifully complimented her face, and had a whole lot of muscle, and… and...

...and also wasn’t here with her right now. 

damn. if soleil’s brain could stop that bad habit of completely shutting down when encountering a girl, she’d probably have a partner to actually double down on this frozen lake with. she adjusts her coat’s collar annoyedly, pulling the fabric closer around her neck. she’d thought the lake thing could’ve been a one person job, but was clearly mistaken when she’d asked the faculty around. come on, it doesn’t take more than one person to crack some ice. some would even argue that it would be more tragedy-prone with another on the lake. 

           which soleil didn’t doubt one bit.

the pink haired women enthusiast raises her head. looking for another partner couldn’t be that hard; there had to be some other person who felt restless enough during winter to want to break in a frozen lake and risk falling in. 

finally, when she’s about to give up and enter the dining halls to look; she spots someone with violently pink hair, tied into two bushy tails at the sides of their head. oh! and she’s a cutie… yeah, this could work.

“hey! twintails!” soleil calls, waving her hands in a frenzy towards the other girl’s direction. if there was an easier, more polite way to have gotten the girl’s attention, soleil didn’t know of it. “mind helping out a fellow pinkie pie, y’know… break the ice?”