#diryrja

Saint Seiros has come to town! Yep, you heard right. While Garreg Mach’s seen its fair share of impostors in the past, none so far have had the gall to impersonate the church’s founder herself. Whoever this lady is, she at the very least looks and sounds the part - she bears a striking beauty beyond words, and a commanding presence to go along with it. Is she here to stage a coup? Or maybe she’s just after the church-sanctioned taxes… Whatever the case, you need to land this broad and her impressively large following in jail like right this second. [Grants Faith +1]

“--which is exactly why this wretched hoax cannot be allowed to stand! It goes against the holy principals of justice and truth! As a princess of the light, I intend to do all I that I must to bring this sinner to the fate they deserve!” Starting in medias res, L’Arachel and Letizia are walking-and-talking on their way to face the false Saint Seiros. Although, to say Letizia has done much of the talking is a great overstatement. For nearly the entire trip, L’Arachel had been blabbing her mouth about all sorts of menial things: divine law, noble quests, saintly duties, the inescapable torture that heretics are bound for, and all manner of ego-boosting proclamations. 

For a woman like Letizia, it might’ve been a lot to listen to.

But alas! She doesn’t have much of a choice. The two had been paired together long before L’Arachel began ranting. 

The only silver lining here is that the Rausten girl is so fired up she manages to maintain a quickened pace. Her academy boots make fast clacks! against the pavement of the town, each step sounding angrier than the last. If that, and the snappy tone of her voice aren’t enough to get her mood across, then the fire in her eyes and sharp pull of her brow convey her feelings perfectly.

Names mean a lot to her, and identities even more. For someone to rob the character of another like it’s some cheap loaf of bread in a market is outrageous! L’Arachel Alba Amadeus plans to write her name into history in much the same way as Saint Seiros. If someone were to imitate her later on in life, she’d stop at nothing to have them purged--using the might of Rausten’s Sacred Twins if need be. So it only makes sense that she’d do the same here. By having a self-centered worldview, L’Arachel manages to show to some empathy and personally involve herself with the issues surrounding her school.

“Oh when I get my hands on her! I’ll give her a beatdown to remember.” Without warning, she retrieves the Recover staff from her hilt, swinging it wildly through the air to act out physically hitting this imposter, “Like this! and that! and that, and that, and that!” Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh! Each exaggerated syllable is another crack L’Arachel takes at her imaginary foe. She’s so invested in this little bout of live-action roleplaying that she doesn’t even realize they’ve reached the gathering of people.  

It’s only when she looks up from her healing instrument does she notice the flock of misguided sheep before them. The crowd is thick, from the looks of things, so it looks like they’ll have to do some pushing through to get to phony. 

“Ah, we’re here.” She finally turns to Letizia, twisting her grip on her staff like it’s a bat. “Letizia, was it? I hope you’re prepared to deliver this evildoer to justice! As one who has the pleasure of being paired with The Beautiful Princess of Peerless Beauty, you are not only working with me, but for me.” Her thumb sticks out at her own chest in delusional confidence, believing wholeheartedly that the other woman will simply bend the knee, “As such, you’ll follow my lead, and keep me safe should anything unruly come of this mission.”

With the way she so matter-of-factly states this message, it’s clear that L’Arachel is leaving no room for debate on that subject. In fact, if she were more familiar with Letizia, she would’ve already charged right into the fray--knowing and trusting that director would follow. 

"Oh dear, haggard is a little mean, isn't it?" Mercedes says with a frown. She dearly hopes he is familiar with someone else here, as he stands he cuts a rather lonely looking figure.

"Aren't we all haunted by something, at this point?" He gives a small click of his tongue. Nevertheless, an order is an order.

+1 Mission Gauntlet starter for @diryrja

Those pursuing the investigation into this town’s “werewolf” have a nasty surprise on their hands—Two of them, in fact. One would be that you have accidentally (unfortunately) stumbled on exactly what you’re looking for: a half-man, half-wolf beast bent over its prey, tearing into its chest with gusto. When the monster catches sight of your group, it lunges towards you with gnashing teeth and tearing claws. A mage would surely make quick work of it… if it were not for the second nasty surprise, which comes at the cost of one of your allies’ life when a simple Fire spell fails to ignite. In fact, none of your magics work in this world, Black, Dark, White or otherwise. Without a physical weapon to your name, you’ll need to think fast if you want to make it out of here with all your limbs intact. [Grants Gauntlets +1]   

Every morning was a bad morning in Jakob’s view, especially the stretch of time between waking up and having coffee. However, it seemed this fairytale world had even nastier surprises for him planned.

A werewolf stared him down, eyes boring into his. Jakob glared back, missing the shurikens or knives he’d always used to have somewhere on his body. After watching the last mage try magic only to be killed on the spot, he gripped his Heal staff like it was nothing more than a mundane stick, brandishing it at the werewolf. He put every ounce of commanding snap into his tone. “BACK!” The wolf started, perhaps surprised that anyone was trying to actually drive it off. However, it didn’t flee.

His heart hammered, starting to run out of ideas.

A noise to his side drew his attention. It was some high pitched sound, like a cross between a whine, a sob, a gasp, and nails on a chalkboard. Perhaps it was an injured werewolf cub, or some other monster.

He turned his head.

Oh. Her.

So a monster, then.

She acts as if he is an old friend and they are reuniting after years apart with a smile that doesn't quite meet her eyes. Nails dig into his back, her embrace bordering on suffocating.

"You aren't supposed to be down here, you know."

He’d only stumbled upon the lower monastery level by accident. Rounding a corner with a broom and rather full dust pan in hand, he’d run into a woman who managed to make his life worse by the second.

Jakob grit his teeth and hissed. “I was only finding somewhere to put this trash, you hideous bat.”

Impulsively, perhaps not good for his longevity, he upturned the dust pan of loose dust, tiny rocks, and lint all down her back, tapping it on her upper back once for good measure.

"Understood! If you hate her, then she must be an opposition most unsavory. Rest assured, o splendiferous guide of mine, that her secrets shall be revealed! Like a thread passing effortlessly through the eye of a needle, these dark machinations shall be plucked from the guarded chamber in which they reside. Nothing gets past the Eye of Judgement possessed by Oberon Dark!"

WITH A CURIOUS NOD, lilith thinks back to the figure in question.  the man of little words yet a voice of founded confidence.  or, it is a virtue that lilith imagines.  she has yet to hear him talk.  letizia is correct, though.  volug is a hybrid... unless there is a different, more accurate term for it.  astral dragons wield the ability to speak without words, instead pushing their voice within the recipient’s mind.  it is an ability they utilize towards harmony with animals.  would it help her and volug interact properly?

even if not, godling wishes for the validation of someone else, someone outside of blood and valla’s honor   —   she nods to letizia’s command.  bowing her head slightly in respect, lilith ignores the feeling that twists in her chest at the familiarity of being under an order.   “   yes, ma’am.  i will try my best.   ”   and with that, she hovers out of the office, smoothing the front of her uniform with warm palms.

DETERMINATION PULLS AT the corners of his lips, pressing a bright smile into the bow of lips.  ophelia nods, hands behind his back as he leans forward in a slight bow.  intent on handing over whatever respect letizia ever so desires.   (   you cannot deny the powerful shift of atmosphere that occurred when your heels first led you into the office of silver and misfortune.  you are aware of her power but not of its lengths.   )

“   as you wish, o’ beloved sorceress!   ”   it is impossible to mistake the excitement in his tone as anything other than delight.   “   dusk is already familiar with the figure of secrecy you’ve presented, so this will be a wonderful task!  i refuse to disappoint you.   ”   and with that, ophelia turns on his heel and leaves the office   —   his cape swaying wildly as he passes through the doorway.