#destinian

Is the monastery simply full of those once dead? That is their first thought when they see her — verdigris hair, blood-red eyes. She wears her hair the same way, moves the same, lilting, dancing, half-falling way. They watch her for many moments before they decide to approach.

They realize, only when they are close enough for her to see them, that they do not know what to say. So you live? Clearly. You chose to remain in this world? Obviously. But then, a new thought— and their eyes widen, minutely.

It’s dinner time, and Idunn can sense something strange.

Like an obelisk protruding from a sea of students, like a great oak in the middle of a vineyard, it is there. It slaps her in the face as she walks, brings tingles to her skin with each turn of her head. Idunn knows this feeling. It’s the kind she gets around little Fae and the halflings,

She isn’t the only dragon in this dining hall. 

Her meal is gathered in a heartbeat, the simple saghert and cream quick to cool if she doesn’t locate the sensation’s source. It is a sweet meal, hardly that of a dinner. But it’s the closest thing Idunn can get to fresh fruit. At times like these, in new and daunting environments where home is so, so far away, comfort foods are what she must subsist on. So her feet shuffle through the crowd of students, eyes glancing over porcelain plates and wooden benches--until finally she comes into view: Ninian.

The sirens blare against her skin, each sensation of a dragon’s presence felt a thousand times against her eyes and her ears. Idunn is sure it’s her. She wastes no further time in approaching the frost-touched maiden, setting her tray down with plain motions.

“You.” Spoken with an air of detachment, “You are a dragon.” And again, using a tone to indicate fact.

No emotion can be seen against her features. No smile, no frown--no excitement nor dismay in her mismatched eyes. Everything is perfectly neutral and sterile, down to even the smallest of muscle arrangements in her cheeks and chin. When Idunn sits, it is also with this lifeless poise. Her food rests just across from the other’s, though now it is the furthest thing in her mind.

“My name is Idunn. I am... Also a dragon,” tough to admit after being told for so long to keep her identity a secret, but she’s learning, “I think we should be... Friends. Yes, friends...” Because if she is anything else like those who carry draconic blood, this girl will be nice. She will be kind. She will have a heart for understanding. The unspoken rule that one will die long before the other does not apply to a pair of wyrms.

This bond is one of the few things Idunn has instantly wanted. And besides the Occam’s Razor, she knows no way to attain it.  

@destinian

It had been a surprisingly pleasant day. Lloyd had time to himself to leave the monastery’s looming shadow and catch up with his brother. It was a learning curve to be sure, not having Linus within immediate sight; they were something of a package deal, and that had been so up until now. Lloyd had been eager to join the Knights and make a concerted effort into working off some of the guilt that lay on his heart, whereas Linus was less keen to tie himself to something so...rigid.

They were both trying to manage things in a way that made sense to them, but Lloyd missed having his brother so close. And it set his anxiety off, not knowing exactly what Linus was getting up to and if he would be able to help if anything went wrong.

At the very least, Linus seemed fine. Loud, cracking jokes, the usual sort of behavior that put Lloyd at ease when they had to part ways for the time being. He didn’t push it, but he did hope Linus joined him soon--

Lloyd’s train of thought was disrupted as he was making his way back into the monastery through the marketplace that collected at the foot of the monastery proper, having accidentally bumped into one of the students that was milling about the area while he was stuck in his own head. He was about to offer an apology -- it hadn’t exactly been a rough hit, but still -- when the sight of strange, red eyes and crystalline hair stole the words from his mouth.

“Still searching for your gifter, I see. Hm… they were quite short-worded, though there was something strange – perhaps inhuman – about their appearance.”

Strange? Inhuman?

That's kind of rude, isn't it? Not to mention not very helpful at all.

Well. Maybe it's helpful? Left scratching his head, Hector decides not to waste any further time deliberating on his next course of action. Rather, there and then, a certain someone's better half walks into view, and Hector springs to his feet.

"Oi, Ninian!"

The Ostian comes at a jog, waving the small paper with the sparse note on it.

"Hmph. Eliwood wasn't much help with this." Somewhat disappointing, to be quite frank. He was supposed to be the one good at this kind of stuff!! 'Someone from Elibe,' he'd said. Bah! He holds the note out. "Whoever it is got me a bunch of training weapons! I need to figure out who it is so I can thank them properly, you see?"

starter for @destinian

Leanne has met a few other laguz at Garreg Mach. Kurthnaga is a professor for her house, Naesala has popped his head in, and she’s pretty sure she’s seen Ranulf around. That Velouria girl is a wolf laguz as well, though her continent uses a different name to describe them. Still, laguz are few and far between in Fodlan, and it can get a little lonely.

She does not dislike beorc! On the contrary, Leanne has many beorc friends, and she has been told her fondness for beorc exceeds what someone with her experiences should have. But there are some things that only fellow laguz can really understand.

Thus Leanne really cannot be blamed if she is walking down the hall and excitement blooms in her heart at the ping of a new laguz. It’s hard to describe just how laguz can sense each other, but for Leanne, it’s similar to the general sensing of others’ feelings, just a resonance that lands in the right frequency.

She’s pretty, a pale white face framed by seafoam hair, striking red eyes looking downwards more than not. She’s evidently a student by her uniform, and definitely does not know her way around just yet! Who better than a classmate to offer her some support?

Roy would have accepted anything from his mother with a smile and overflowing joy. That she gave him something they could share was even better. "Oh, thank you, mother. You should try a couple too. I'd be happy to share." Roy took the box and held it carefully as he went in for a hug, giving Ninian a gentle squeeze.

For an Ice Dragon, she was always so warm.

Roy felt as though he got his own from both of his parents.

   "Your son?” Scathach is confused to say the least, it was the last thing he had expected when the woman had hurried up to him. Her blue hair and piercing red eyes were stunning, and he would certainly remember making an acquaintance like her. still, she had looked at him so urgently that he couldn’t help but stop for her. What he had imagined was a mistake encounter or a request for some kind of aid, was instead several questions about her son. The name Roy was also unbeknownst to him, which only served to feed his curiosity even more. What had made her call out to him specifically when he’d never spoken to either of them at all.

“I’m sorry ma’am but I’ve never spoken to someone with a name like that. If you can’t find him, I’d be willing to help you search though-”

She can't just stand there. Class is about to start and the other students are staring. But she can't bring herself to do anything other than stand there staring.

Linus was not happy. Really, truly, this was the last place he wanted to be.

How was he supposed to know he was getting signed up for a teaching gig and not those tin can knights of whoever?! They really ought to make it more clear! Now he was stuck playing babysitter to a bunch of stuck up brats, and the unfortunate normal kids that got lucky (or unlucky) enough to get into this school.

"Honestly, why do these kids even wanna be here? Stuffy clothes, stuffy rooms, everybody givin' ya dirty looks if ya ain't pussyfootin' around--"

And that's when the students started filtering in. Linus did try to keep his seething and grumbling to a minimum, but he knew he was pulling a face from some of the expressions he was seeing. Most just mill about to find a preferred spot, others attempt politeness with a greeting that Linus mostly ignores outside of a flick of his gaze towards the speaker.

Then the girl steps through the door. She looks much the same as he remembers, even if he never really got much of a look at her back then. But it was hard to ignore the combination of striking red eyes and ice pale hair. She seemed about as hesitant and timid as he recalled, like a doe stepping out warily into open ground.

Like prey, knowing how vulnerable she was.

She spots him just as he does her, and he can practically smell the fear coming off her as she freezes. Fight, flight or freeze-- she really picked the wrong one if this was her response to something she deemed a threat.

The other students are cluing in on the fact that something is up, hushed murmurings not as quiet to trained ears when in an echoing space such as this.

Ugh, this is such a pain in the ass...

Linus rolls his shoulders, trying to budge the unpleasant look on his face as he approaches the girl. She's at least close enough to the entrance of the room -- and most everyone else has settled somewhere, sitting or still standing -- that Linus can sort of use his body to shield her from most of the other students' curious stares. He's looming, and he knows he's scary but he can't exactly help what other people see.