#deathsdue

○○○○○ | ATTRACTION *○○○○ | AFFECTION **○○○ | INTEREST ***○○ | LOYALTY *○○○○ | TRUST "A promising young man who can go far under the right instruction. His character is on the more somber note......I hope he does not applaud any aspect of my personnel. Surely not. No. He could never. "There is a whole world out there, Gerome. Seek it out, and follow your blade. There is no need to tie yourself down to any land or man or master. Soar on those wings of your wyvern. After all, they can still fly, can they not?"

After climbing down from the mountainous region (that, fortunately for her, was partially less straining compared to the climb up) and wiping some red dust off her clothes, Citrinne says her goodbyes to the mysterious South Island. Thanks to her teammate's last-second selfish acts that caused Duessel to give chase, she and Gerome end up crossing the sandy shores and bridge back to the central island later.

The noble remained silent for most of the return trip, focusing on moving forward with the tantalizing chance of a well-deserved rest. But it is Gerome who speaks up as they near the island's hub, giving a brief statement of thanks. Even with a different, less flashy mask, she recognizes the hue of his hair just fine. Does he not recognize her just the same?

She takes the opportunity to fix that.

"It was truly nothing, no need to be humble," Citrinne lightly smiles. "I could only do what was right in my position. If only my teammate felt the same...my apologies for his undeserved words, and actions."

Citrinne stares deeper into the masked face. "I will say, though. I never expected the second interaction with the man so stalwart back at the ball to be over a series of chains, right under lava no less! I am afraid to admit I cannot imagine being so calm if our team encountered the same setback as yours."

COMPETITION IS A HARD BANDAGE TO UNWIND ,⠀🗲⠀but the battlefield was the battlefield, and every year the conclusion of the battle of the eagle and lion was an occasion for celebration, or so they said. as far as he was concerned, the merriment and camaraderie suited the others ; his time was better spent going over the day's decisions——from his own strategies to those of the lions as a whole, from the smallest placement of footwork to the largest gambit. only careful consideration of what'd worked and what hadn't could add up to improvement in the end. it was simple: he just had to keep doing what he did well, and reconsider missteps.

as the hoards of students and faculty alike swarmed in a noisy hoard toward the dining hall in a mass of blues, reds, and yellows, he doesn't expect anyone else to be lagging behind.

he recognizes the other student immediately. still holding the levin sword that'd cut through their defenses, the strange mask on his face makes him distinctive. the muscles of his left arm twinge, a ghost response to the memory of lightning. in the middle of a fight, there hadn't been the time to take him in, but the impression he'd left was grounded. the vanguard of the opposing deer, he hadn't let the responsibility of that task shake him ; despite sustained blows, he'd held fast as the primary threat, effectively drawing attention from teammates that would've otherwise proven themselves the bigger targets.

perhaps that'd been their strategy all along, in addition to winning over that man who'd been fighting for the eagles.

"Of course! It would not do for me to simply stand while our stalwart, stunning swordfighter got pummeled by our foes! I have to say, I did not think we would hold out nearly as well as we did. Perhaps I should have had as much faith towards my allies as I did with myself!" She lets out a hearty laugh.

[ Water ] - If Lucina feels underdressed, Gerome feels wildly overdressed coming up to her, bearing a glass of water as a gift. "I envy your state of dress."

She spares him a good once over, thoroughly impressed with the ensemble. Though there is something undeniably jarring to bearing witness to Gerome in any attire other than something befitting of a battlefield.

Attention flits down to her own rumpled shirt, sheepish. "I don't doubt it's more comfortable," she remarks, then shakes her head once. "Did you choose such an outfit yourself? I like it."

Not that Lucina liking an outfit is generally considered a compliment, but she feels pretty good about this one.

Fresh air had been something Python was in need of as well. The sudden revelation that a long-term dalliance has a daughter will do that to a man. One of the hedges in the garden shields him from the light of the ballroom as he crouches down near the grass, pipe in one hand and a rudimentary Fire spell flickering on his fingertips as he attempts to light it.

Forsyth will give him an earful if he catches him out and away like this, but as long as he isn't discovered—

(Those hopes are dashed when a knee jabs into his side. Just his luck.)

The archer springs back up to full height, staggering back and away. "Look, I just needed a—" A short pause, a moment of recognition.

Gerome approached with something in hand, holding it out to her as he neared. a whetstone wrapped in a simple cloth. "To keep your blade sharp, no matter how far I am." He had not forgotten what day it was. "Happy birthday."

Cloth unfolds in her palm and Lucina's lips turn in a small smile. Flowers from Inigo, a tale of legends from Owain; it would only be right that from Gerome she received something as practical as himself. It is in that fact that there is worth, for the gifts themselves are nothing to the friends that offer them.