#ostianshadow

(Matthew, it’s only been like, a day or two—)

So when he finds himself a Gem of a spot outside of the public eye, well,

he’s gonna milk it for all it’s worth.

And that, of course, means defending it to his last breath.

“I’ve seen ya skulking around,” he accuses. But he isn’t hostile - not yet, anyroad. Almost bordering on playful, if anything, but... that doesn't mean he'll back down. “Respectfully, this is my hiding place for the time being, sir.” Kindly: get your own.

Regrettably, for he would much prefer to be unconscious for a large portion of the trip, there are still needs that Andrei must take care of throughout the trip. Food and water, for instance, and while there are multiple avenues for him to acquire sustenance, they still required him to leave the cargo hold. And it is upon the return of one such trip that he finds the room, and more importantly his spot, occupied.

His eyes narrow at the intruder’s words, crossing his arms with a firmly set frown.

“I believe anyone with attentive observational skills might find that I had occupied this spot first,” he retorts, gesturing to the cape rolled neatly upon the nearby crate, a gesture from Darios that now proves helpful in more ways than one, though he would never admit it to the other man.

20 Reliable allies...‎ ‎  41 Gifts you'd like to receive...‎ ‎  55 First crushes...‎

Flipping the conversation card over, Matthew can but grin. Mischief glints in his eyes. Sure, why not! He flips the card so that Maria can read it, and taps at the bottom choice. "Any special someone in Miss Maria's life these days? Close friends, perhaps?" Mostly, he hopes the girl from the tower need not feel lonely anymore. "... You seem to be doing well."

Oh, but that does put a lovely rosy hue upon her cheeks. Maria giggles, a hand drawn up to her cheek -- perhaps to dam the smile spreading across her face, though her delight overflows regardless.

"I have lots of special someones!" And she laughs there, anticipating the cheeky reply he'll slip between her sentences. Still something glimmers in her eyes, heavier and heartdeep, a warmth that could only have been born from a wish sorrow once left behind.

"...I always knew it would be fun to have friends." A fingertip traces the edge of her teacup. "And I have classmates now, too! There's so many people that I can meet and know! Hee hee... and my friends don't even have to be my classmates."

She plucks a cookie from the tray, but by the time she has she's already grinning again, mind awhirl with names and faces and everything, everyone she cherishes.

"Like Yuri! We've been friends for forever now! Forever!" Light shimmers across her eyes, a bit of breathlessness in her voice. "Forever... used to be so lonely, you know. But now my forevers can be warm, and happy. And full of cake!" Another laugh; the cookie makes it up to her chin this time. "You've got some competition, Mister Matty -- they're even more mysterious than you! Hee hee... I bet if I told them I love them, their face would get all--" She furrows her brows, purses her lips, undoes them and then does them again in a reasonless order. "--you know?

"But I tell Bernie I love her lots, and that's really nice, too!" Her smile softens, warms, tucked against her heart like something precious. "I like saying it out loud. I like reminding people that I love them. Sometimes they forget." Her brother often does, she knows, but that-- like Michalis-- is neither here nor there.

The cookie lowers back to the plate, and her index finger rises triumphantly instead.

"Bernie's the best, by the way! She's the prettiest, bravest person at Garreg Mach, and I love her! If there's anyone I know I'm safe with, it's Bernie. So I want to keep her safe, too! And I want to eat sweets with her, and go on adventures, and visit lots of fun places..."

And maybe Matthew will regret asking her by now, for she has so very much to say. She tells him about Rafal, who reminds her of her brother; she tells him about Edelgard, who makes so many things feel possible; she tells him about Nanna, a girl with stars in her eyes, and Mitama, a girl with stars in her eyes; she tells him about so many people, and then...

"There's also..." The girl from the tower wedges her chin between her palms and, unbeknownst to him, kicks her feet. Just a little bit! "...a really special someone! His name is Chad, and... hee hee! He burrows into his cape like a turtle when he's shy, but his smile is so shiny, and his eyes look like sunshine, and he's so lovely when he gets excited about something! Maybe I shouldn't say I love him yet," Maria beams, or giggles, or sort of both, really, "But I really, really like him!"

(And besides, not chatting with anyone while they're all trapped on this ship seems like a waste of a perfectly good networking opportunity.)

“I, for one, definitely miss the stars from back home, some nights. You?”

Yunaka flinches before she can stop herself. She thought most people would be sleeping at this hour. Not herself, obviously, because she couldn't go below deck without wanting to scream and that wasn't any good for anybody. But she figured most people would be sleeping and those that weren't would miss or ignore her up on the deck if they did.

"Huh? Oh. Yeah, looks like they did." She pulls the blanket she brought around herself tighter as she looks back up to the sky. "It's weird to think the stars could be so different just an ocean away...Makes you wonder if things are really as simple as they sound."

The dying version of Elyos had been all flipped around...what if going to and from Fodlan was just another kind of magic that they never noticed?

"I never learned the constellations or names or anything, but...I did like looking up at the stars back home. I don't sleep a lot, so they at least make for something pretty to look at when they're there."

If the stars from Fodlan were different, then that meant he wasn't from there either, huh? She's curious where exactly he might be from, but...she doesn't particularly feel like leading a conversation right now.

He's had time to recuperate a little since his unfortunate encounter with a particularly solid stick that last round, thankfully, but the number of haggard looking bodies Matthew's spied limping back to the infirmary... Yikes!

People are taking this way too seriously, the whole lot of 'em.

As he creeps around another bend, he halts suddenly. There's the snuffling sound of a horse - no, he corrects upon hearing the feathery ruffle of feathers, a pegasus - and there...!

A frightening lance whose business end he does not want to get poked by, not if he can help it. He's still half hidden by a few bushes right now. And the thing is just about within reach. . .

He's made it this far thanks to his sticky fingers,

so why stop now?

CRACK!

Matthew attempts to Steal Killer Lance! Roll: 9-2= 7 ; MISS.

Oh. That is the sound of a tree branch falling from overhead. Small, but enough that he feels so inclined to dip back, out of the way. And there's no way anyone's not going to want to at least glance back at the thing that'd almost fallen on them.

He offered his best and most charming smile - even with dagger in hand, and body low, at the ready.

"Nice weather we're having, isn't it?"

Oh, he is so busted...

Rain continues to pour down, rumbles of thunder rolling across the fields. It makes her pegasus whinny nervously but Elincia does her best to keep a bright smile on her face and a positive attitude. They've faced far worse than a mock battle and a spot of bad weather together after all.

"It's okay, buddy. I'll protect you, don't worry." Busy reassuring her partner she almost misses a pair of sticky fingers reach out for her lance. Again? Yet a flash of lightning and a falling tree branch give her the opening to pull Chrysaor out of the way.

Clumsily, she swoops in with her lance, catching a glancing blow against the would be thief before offering a response.

Roll d20: 5! Barely hit. -1HP damage.

"Lovely weather, really. Perfect day for a nice little stroll around Gronder Field, don't you agree?" This time she takes the initiative, readying the lance in her hands. Still wearing a smile, she dives down and performs the technique she's been practicing recently. Whilst the rain throws her aim off slightly, it's a solid hit all the same.

Elincia uses Knightkneeler. Roll d20+2: 10. -2 damage. Darting Blow triggers. Elincia will perform a follow up attack after Matthew's counterattack.

Alba ad Ostia,

11/08/2023.

Scattata da me, per voi

Senza alcun filtro.

It's a new practice the monastery's been trying out, but that hasn't stopped students and staff making a game of it. The goal's simple: in lieu of maiming the heck out of someone or something, sometimes it's preferable to restrain them, instead... and so, you must tie your opponent's hands before they tie yours.

But as Matthew stares at Niles, he can but shake his head and sigh. Then, the ghost of a smirk on his lips, he stoops to unravel the rope expertly wound about the other's arms and hands.

"If I didn't know any better," he notes with no little amusement and wonder, dangling the loose rope as he straightens back up, "I'd almost say you were letting me win."

ask meme | receiving!

❰❰ PIN ❱❱ sender pins receiver during a fight/training. | ❰❰ FREE ❱❱ sender frees the receiver from restraints.

"Oh, if we're talking about things I'd let you do, I promise that simply tying me up won't be all." His smile shows a hint of teeth as he rises, still unable to instill a habit of dusting himself off.

The boy—Matthew; it's a name to remember—moves like very few at Garreg Mach do, if any else at all. Here, they've enjoyed (ha!) the presence of kings and queens, of princes and princesses; men and women of noble upbringing, all with some claim to power through a measure of divinity in their veins. Crests. Dragonblood. As if it'd make a difference at all when eventually their own hubris lays sweet kisses to their lips, again and again, until blues and purples fade into thick, poisoned black.

Matthew, however, is not one of them. It isn't in his speech or his clothes; he speaks as many others do, and dresses as the rest, in the pitch blacks and glimmering golds of the Academy uniform. It's in the way he moves, silent and deadly, the pivots he takes that only a choice few of their classmates can manage. It's in the way he watches, sharp-eyed and unforgiving, two steps ahead even when his smile promises he is three steps behind.

The lightness of his steps say thief. The way he'd bound Niles says something more.

He's not likely to pose any threat to Leo, but that isn't why Niles finds himself held captive by his intrigue. His singular eye dips lower, purposefully letting his gaze drag slowly down from Matthew's eyes to his mouth to his shoulders to his chest, meant to disquiet him even as Niles steals glances of his hands.

(Callused, but almost everyone's is. He can't tell what kind, though, or where. Sword calluses are different from axe calluses. Those are different from a spear's. A bow's. A dagger's.

Which do you use, little shadow?)

Rhea had been attending to the Harvest Festival side of the monastery’s activities during the time their guest Projectionist had gained permission to run the mock arena event she had heard so much about. A fun time was had by all no doubt (or she would assume so judging by the startlingly long list of expenditures that had appeared alongside a bill on her desk earlier that day. quite real, she had checked that) but something about the descriptions of fantastical, conjured enemies nagged at her.

Phantoms, she thinks, and by sheer power alone does not shiver. She had never been fond of the word but since the year rewound she has become confident that she summarily dislikes it now, and not as she wishes for purely theological reasons.

There is little chance this magician has anything to with that event, Rhea is sure, but she still retains some of that excess energy from their autumnal festivities and thought it may not be apparent to some she has always been intrigued by the many different ways magic can be made manifest in the world.

Unsurprisingly, she is not the only one intrigued by the Projectionist’s continued presence and when with nary a sound a familiar man joins her en route to see her continued (expensive) guest she nods I recognition.

“Matthew. Good afternoon. I take it you also possess some interest in the Projectionist’s final show?”

The carnival is in town! Nothing like a little truancy and fried treats of your choice to spend away an entire afternoon… And giant, stuffed plushes and shiny prizes catch your eye. “Play a game?” The booth attendant holds out a rickety toy bow. How hard could it be? [Grants Bow +1]

Rare were the occasions where some plucky soul invited Cordelia to a place as merry as a carnival, but rarer still was it ever that the invitation was worth considering. With Matthew, at least, she did not have to worry about how much of the invitation hinged upon her face, nor if he would regret it when her company proved dull. Rather, it was him that she was worried about, returning as he had all shadowed of eye and tired of smile. Just what had exhausted him so, she’d no idea, but if he was inviting her to festivities in spite of his haggard aura, who was she to say no? 

She leaned against the wall in silence, the echo of laughter at once distant and near and the glow of celebration stretching far enough to lay faintly at her feet. How much time passed while she waited, she wasn’t sure, but it wasn’t long enough for her to mind by the time someone else came to a stop beside her. 

“Ah,” she said, and if her voice was just a note softer than usual, he needn’t mind. “Just Matthew. Ready for the festivities, are we?”