#partnerindestiny

That's Shez's first thought -- their second has more to do with the brooch that oh-so-carefully adorns the man's unfamiliar uniform. She hasn't forgotten her quest - far from it! - but she finds her interest piqued. The bird has a bowtie on. Goddess.

"Your bird's cute," Shez approaches the stranger with a little nod and a fanged grin. "Is.. he..? friendly?"

"Oh... thank you," Andrei answers after a slight pause, momentarily caught off-guard by the compliment and the need for an appropriate response. He looks at the other — a student, perhaps, or at least someone around his own age. They seem more inclined towards a cordial conversation than certain others, anyhow.

Shez knows they're supposed to sit, but it's way more fun to stand.

Rather than rest as the platform rotates, they stand, hand grasping onto one of the stationary poles. Leaning out, their hair spins in a purple blur around them as the carousel twirls them. It's a rush they imagine a flier might feel, the weightless wind in their hair.

When the carousel slows — slows, not stops , because Shez is ever reckless — they leap off, dashing over to one of the passerby.

"Wanna ride with me?" they ask, a wry grin on their face. "Everything here's designed for two, and I'm just a lonesome merc."

toa starlight festival

Ophelia is enamored by the horse tornado (that is not what it's being called, but it may as well be!).  There's some manner of magic propelling it, and for a moment she's kept her distance in an attempt to discern exactly what manner of spell is powering its spin.

Then, almost suddenly, a purple-haired stranger appears before her like some sort of fairy tale and Ophelia beams at them.

“Ah, that must be remedied at once!  Lonesome mercenary, worry no more, Ophelia Dusk will serve as your partner!”

(Fried) Hey this wasn’t part of the plan! …anyway, someone put down a huge vat of oil for you to fry stuff in. They even provided some batter for dipping if you like a crispy crust! Just.. try to be reasonable, okay?

Camilla eyed the list of available options for frying. Jellied Beans, Free Sha Vaca Do, Creme Eggs, Roses!? Fried roses!?

Oh Sauerkraut... That one was familiar. But fried?

"What do you think you'll try?" Camilla asked the person standing nearest to her. "The sauerkraut sounds tempting... Though I've never heard of "free sha vaca do..." Have you?"

The hunt has a name - a white feather. She's traded through brooches tonight, but she hasn't gotten her hands on either feather. (She did, for a moment, wonder if she could pass off one of Cranberry's downy feathers as either-or, but the color was all off, so she'd left that plan by the wayside.) So it's back to the drawing board - and Arval's got black, but she hasn't gotten white yet.

She's not one for hovering at the fringes, not really, but these shoes hurt. She'd picked flats for a reason, but they still pinch her. Thankfully, it's been easy enough to find a seat - even if her current one is the edge of a table. Her bare feet swing above the floor, shoes folded in her lap, when she catches a glimpse of white.

Does she know him? Maybe. He looks familiar enough. Some seminiar or something?

"Hey! Wanna trade?"

She waves him down with a fanged grin.

"Hello beauti--" Sylvain stops himself, best behaviour remember, "miss, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He's sure the compliment was clear enough anyway but a "modicum of decorum" he could show. He lifts a hand, gesturing to a member of the waitstaff before turning his attention back to the lovely, Iris-haired Venus beside him.

𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 / no longer accepting

she should've known better than to venture into this part of town with her usual accessories. it was foolish in every sense. a rare lapse in judgment; an unnecessary target on her back, as if she didn't already draw unwanted attention everywhere she went.

the would-be mugger had first tried striking up conversation— if one could even call it that. low whistles in dorothea's direction, followed by calls of "hey pretty lady. don't you look a sight? why don't ya come over here? we can have ourselves a nice lil' chat!"

and of course, his attempts were met with silent disdain and a flicker of contempt in her passing gaze. (honestly, what did these men expect? a delighted grin? a curtsey of gratitude? not that it mattered. they were all the same — always expected something in return. acknowledgement, compliance, anything but refusal).

it shouldn't have surprised her, then, to see the assailant lunge forward with a nasty snarl. "enough of that. hand over the jewelry!" the same old song and dance follows — they always tried latching onto the wrist, thinking they could easily overpower. experience would have dorothea twisting her arm intuitively, rotating her wrist against the man's thumb to exploit the weakness in his grip. his pressure loosens and she strikes, quickly driving the heel of her palm toward his nose.

only then, she notices the flash of purple in the ensuing chaos, followed by the sound of yelps and the heavy thuds of exchanged blows. it doesn't take long for the mugger, now nursing his bruises and a wounded ego, to hastily retreat into the shadows —

She does not cry for the fallen; weep for the past. All she can do is keep moving forward, even as the red against her heels continues to grow. Edelgard will never be a leader to remain distant while those who fight for and with her take to the front lines. No, she stays alongside them. It is her job and desire to show herself; to exemplify her ideals to others.

It is the ultimate test of trust— Of assurance. She finds it easy for people to swear loyalty or merely tell her they will aid, but it means nothing without acting. They can lie. They can change their minds in mere seconds. To trust is to earn. Swords clash, meaningless words fall on her ears. She hears them all, but does not reply. What is there to say? One seeks her demise, the other utters nonsense. A third, holding a weapon that does not suit them.

There are too many facades dug deep within Fódlan that even she cannot separate. It infuriates her. But, that is not Shez. Her work is impressive, undeniable. The more they fight together, the further her curiosity stems. Their styles are different and expectedly so. She swiftly takes out the foe aiming for her before she can even react. That trust, she finds, remains real. Her life is spared; she stands still.

Edelgard was right within her thoughts. Words of gratitude need not be said in the midst of a fight against such strong foes, only a step forward as she thrusts herself back into the scene. She looks Shez in the eyes— An emperor's glare is an all-powerful being, but the girl's shifts into one of gratitude. Her life is important. Necessary. Powerful.

IM TELLING YOU WE'VE KNOWN THIS STAR IS ROUND THIS IS KNOWN TO US SO THAT MEANS THE SKY IS ALWAYS GIVING US A HUG RIGHT

commoner > soldier > wyvern rider > wyvern lord

idiot daughter who keeps getting her ass kicked no. 2

headstrong and diligent, constantly pushing her boundaries and passionate!! the sky's her second home. dreams so so so big.

looks at the world with sparkles in her eyes,

but ESPECIALLY looks at the stars with the most of them of all. has cried over a hypothetical vision of space before

perceives a sort of distance from people despite liking them, struggles a bit with interpersonal connection but shes got her fam and theyve got her back and thats good enough for her!

probably real close to her sister and gives her rides all the time. or does sick tricks for her. sometimes both at the same time

can you imagine a dracoknight with two axes having astra. imagine no longer

actually a bit of a field scientist and the braincell holder among them but in the same way a freediver needs to be smart about their surroundings and what awaits them in the depths how they dive lest they Fucking Die you know

still passed out a few times trying to push herself higher into the sky than she conscionably should. every day her wyvern picks up after her ass. this too is data

also a complete maniac studying how the moon affects the tides etc and the general ocean levels. is convinced that if she flies long enough she can find lands beyond tellius, or speak to the stars above fodlan. legendary ambition. slightly quixotic. slightly astronautic. utterly obsessed.

would freak out over people saying the planet is flat. i think the entire family pretends (?) to be flat earthers around her because its funny. usually devolves into a wrestling match.

might actually deadass stumble across Forbidden Knowledge one day. who knows

this image

The sheztena kid is the one that gets to have the pink hair. Ethlyn's beautiful hair genes skipped a generation and mix with Shez's purple to give this kid a gorgeous head of like bright magenta. This is self indulgent for me but it's fine. They rock a headband look but it's like you know a fashion headband rather than a tie it around your head headband and they keep their hair chin length.

Dm said this one can also inherit the holy blood so they end up with the Gae Bolg but also really kick ass about swords. They prefer fighting on foot as much as Altena tries to foster a love of flying. I think they would take after Shez more in terms of fighting style. Altena is a little sad at first that she can't share her love of the sky and flying but she's pretty quick to realize that that's just putting the type of pressure on her child that she hated having herself. She's not going to stop her kid from being a sword guy if that's what they want.