#ohfallengrace

(( @countreglay & @ohfallengrace So I got an idea. Hope you don’t mind me dragging your muses into it alkdgdaglkdjkl.))

BONUS: 

excuse did you mean “top quality zofian” he’s 200% offended ( fernand “i’m a 13/10” last name )

Rolling his eyes at the usual barrage of abuse, Python grits his teeth and keeps his tone deliberately a little too casual. “I’ll remember that next time we’re on the field together and I’ve got someone who’s attackin’ you in my line of fire. Wouldn’t wanna miss and embarrass myself.” Shaking his head, he can’t keep the bite from his voice as he snaps, “Go to hell, Sir Fernand.”

( Starter for @ohfallengrace​ ) —

     Hope streaks the evening sky, an echo to the twilight view after they had managed to straggle out of Duma’s Altar, the harsh sunrays shimmered over the snowcapped mountains, as if bestowing one final message from the gods.  Hope is reborn like seasons, not like a candlelight—they never stay alight forever, after all.  At this time of year, Alm vaguely smells the new blossoms of flowers winterfresh, the chilly breeze drifting the budding aroma over nearby various landscapes.

     Flostym in Rigel entices him, somehow.  Nothing like far Southern Zofia’s immediate muggy warm weather at the turn of spring.  “Comes Flostym symbolizes a new beginning,” was an infamous motto spoken by cheery Zofians.  New beginnings, a new hope.

   What was Rigel’s?  He curiously thought, mayhaps he shall ask Ezekiel the next time they meet.

     ...Or Fernand.

      He stops at the front of a royal inn intended to only be inhabited by the nobility of all births, whether the ex-injured moved to recover or those on an expensive tour vacation to see Rigel’s beauty.  Peering through the cold frosted windows next to the entrance door. He spots a couple of persons, at medium height, wandering about by the massive fireplace.  Letting out an icy, frosty breath, he pounds at the door with the side of his fist then waits after the third.

     (Or actually, would he have even heard from his peers?)

     The door opens to a middle-aged slim woman, surprise flashing in her eyes and with her raised thick eyebrows, as if having expected a different vistor—maybe Clive, or Clair, mayhaps even Mathilda.  They were the ones to persuade Alm into seeing their friend after enough time passes.

wow je t’aime beaucoup mimi

starter for @ohfallengrace

“What is the meaning of this, Fernand? I have followed your lead thus far, but we have walked this same circle at least a dozen times.”

The hedges were all trimmed to look perfectly identical and uniform throughout the entirety of the labyrinth, so Berkut was all the more certain that the single bundle of red berries at the bottom of one bush had been the same bundle each of the twelve times that they had passed it. He knelt to pluck two and dropped them to the ground - his own experiment, in the event that they should pass by a thirteenth time.

  Clammy hands hardened from the chill of the cold Rigelian winter, with a climate contrasting her small town at the southern tip of Zofia made her all the more grateful for the blessings the Mother Mila had blessed them with, made her much more conscious to the fact that the gods were dying. She wouldn’t be able to pray to the mother, with her faith crumbling and slipping between her fingers-- she struggled to give her life more meaning... and even that had started to crumble.

  And yet here she stood, in front of a man who had forfeited any love for their cause, bruised and beaten as she did the only job she had come to know how to-- of course she would do anything in her power to help, to save a life when it came to such, staying away from the front lines in order to help the ones wounded, letting go of the very person she swore to support through and through.

  The sound of the silver haired knight coming to his senses, a small smile curled on her lips-- ultimately finding some small happiness in helping others, saving lives instead of taking, being a backbone to an army so that they may fight without worry of dread and despair falling on them. Her voice was calm, asking softly--