#errantsqualls

forwin, concerned: "wait... did... did you not catch the one I just said-"

“Aren’t we all just looking for a little bit of hope these days?”

Yes, but her brand of hope wasn’t hope. It was clinging to someone else, anyone else, who would make her feel something for the night. Something beyond the despair of war. Something beyond the soul crushing agony of being here. She wanted to go home more than anything, so instead, she held onto the closest person that felt like home.

“ i was praying. ” the dark knight rises to her feet from her previous position of kneeling before the altar in abyss. “ do you wish to speak to me ? my work isn’t cheap, and i charge extra for those who make a nuisance of themselves. ”

“You were a singer of Cyrkensia ...? In that case, you’ve my condolences.”

For once, Jakob wasn’t trying to annoy someone. He really did feel sorry for the poor bard. He saw firsthand how Cyrkensia was razed by the invisible Vallites. None, of course, would believe him if he spoke of them aloud, but he was among the few who knew the truth of that day’s tragedy. Perhaps, because he knew what caused the city to burn, he felt an extra pang of sympathy for one of its former residents. That, or he was in an especially generous mood today.

The Blue Lions had asked assistance of the Ashen Wolves in dispatching bandits. They seemed willing, albeit begrudgingly, to help out. The skirmish was simple enough, just some bandits with swords and axes that were barely taken care of, so it was easy to break through them and win for the most part. But it seemed at the end their trouble wasn’t over yet. One of the bandits wasn’t quite out of commission yet, and he carefully got to his feet, creeping over to one of the combatants of their group.

But it seemed no one else but Emma noticed his approach. The bandit readied his sword, beginning his charge at the Ashen Wolf. Her feet moved on their own, and before she knew it she was shoving the man out of the way and parried the sword with her own blade, the metallic clang resounding through the clearing.

All eyes were on her as she struck the bandit down, and she sheathed her sword. She let out a breathy sigh before turning to the man. “S-Sorry I pushed you! I just... I reacted without thinking!”

( Doom Days - Bastille )

There were a bunch of things the church hid, for better or for worse. Linhardt was aware of the books hidden in Abyss (though he had been kicked out of the underground library plenty of times). That wasn’t going to stop him. There were some truths he simply needed to figure out, even if that meant getting his arm almost twisted off by the particularly angry leader of Abyss. Linhardt was just a little more tenacious than that.

The hidden library contained many secrets, though not all of them useful. Some of the books were of a racier nature, the kind not acceptable in a monastery. Linhardt had no interest in that, no.

“What is real and what is fake,” he said to himself. He sighed, before picking up one book. “Let’s pick the truth that we believe in, like a bad religion.” Certainly, Linhardt was a man of faith, but he wasn’t sure how much faith he had in the church itself. They weren’t thoughts he could express out loud, not to another human being.

“ f-forwin . . . ” a gloved hand grips the bards arm, whilst a dark look flashes across andromeda’s face. “ c-can you pass a message a-along to yuri ? it’s kind of i-important. ”

@errantsqualls​ said:  

{ Four Word Prompts, for Constance! also hello! } “You need some help?”