Starter for @purrlay

Duke Maxifeld has received a letter detailing the planned heist of his family’s priceless heirloom - a weapon said to take on many an alternate form - during his upcoming annual ball. The Knights of Seiros have assigned you and your partner to attend undercover and find the wannabe thief before they act. The event is strictly for couples only. Better make your act convincing! [Grants Any Weapon +1]

Some power that be was trying to ruin his life. Maybe it was Yune. Maybe it was karma. Maybe he had missed a mistletoe to kiss under doing the wretched winter months.

Whatever it was, he was dressed in his green gown from the ball, the most formal thing he had on such short notice. The idea was to go into Duke Maxifeld’s ball masquerading as a couple. Acting that out wasn’t so bad, except his partner to be was his boyfriend’s boyfriend.

“We’re getting close. Take my arm.” Soren offered his arm to Ranulf as they approached the entrance to the ball. The act of standing so close to Ranulf and asking for a minute bit of physical contact shot a blush up his face. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach and he fought the sensation down. Ranulf was dating Ike, as was Soren. This whole thing didn’t have to be weird, right? If anything, he should be grateful Ranulf was willing to go on such a mission.

Soren had never been particularly jealous of Ike. Sure, he scared Aimee away from him because he knew Ike had no interest in her. Otherwise, he couldn’t blame anyone, including Ranulf, for loving him.

Ike was happy with the arrangement last they’d talked, so was Soren.

So why was this making him flustered? Absurd.

“I wonder if our thief has a date, or if we should be looking for an odd man out.” He muttered quietly, keeping his mind on the mission. Some other couple drifted nearby and Soren changed gear, hoping to hold to this cover for as long as possible.

“You look so handsome tonight, dear.”

"Soren...is that you in there?" The costume is that of a large yellow rodent, full-body and leaving no hint as to who is inside. To beorc, anyway. The outfit is entirely uncharacteristic, but the scent is unmistakable. "Gah hah hah hah! I'm sorry, this is too funny!"

"I dunno what bet you lost or money you were offered for this, but this is great. It's good to see you loosening up a bit!" Ranulf elbows him, which looks patently ridiculous given the whole "large cartoonish yellow mouse" thing, but he's not missing out on this opportunity, no siree! "Listen, listen, y'know the tradition where folks leap over the bonfire to get good luck? I'm sure you'll win your next wager if you do it!"

"It'll be fun! C'mon, I'll go first." Ranulf shifts into cat form, tail waving mischievously. It's a little unfair of him to do this, sure, but he's not risking scorching his festival clothes! He bounds with ease over the bonfire, leaping back over for extra measure. "It'll be fine, see?"

Soren should have realized that sight wasn't the only sense some people relied on. Had he had any choice in the matter, he wouldn't have gone to the festival or participated like this at all. He frowned, waving his little paws to gesture for Ranulf to keep it down.

He'd break character on this one, since Ranulf already knew it was him.

"Shut up." The hissed command was slightly muffled from inside. He didn't want to detail his decaf kidnapping followed by a transformation into Thunder Mouse, so he didn't mention it. "It's a paying job. I am not loosening up whatsoever," he stubbornly insisted. Oh, he hoped Ranulf hadn't witnessed any of the dancing or children rushing to hug him. He sounded like a defensive brat, waving the little arms with bad tempered frustration. He was glad that unless Ranulf could also see through solid objects, that he didn't know Soren's ears were bright red.

Soren wouldn't mind that much if the costume caught on fire, but then everyone would know it was him. Instead, he picked the lowest part of the fire at the very edge and hopped, stumbling a bit on his way down, but he'd technically done it, so it was fine.

"There," he stated.

Oh... "Isn't it only for couples, anyway?" Maybe that was if they jumped together. Maybe Ranulf was trying to imply something. Even so-

"You can't tell anyone about this." Soren viciously shook his head and jabbed a little paw at Ranulf. For some reason, he was building up a list of things he didn't want Ranulf telling anyone about. "Nobody. Got it?"

Soren's stern demand was cut off by yet another small child running up to him and hugging the rounded body of his costume. The boy giggled, staring at Soren/Thunder Mouse's face with undiluted joy. "Thunder Mouse!"

Well, he was on the job. Soren patted the child's head, back to being quietly in character.

Right in front of Ranulf, of course.

Some may call Ranulf's alcohol tolerance "low," but he likes to think of it as "economical." This wine is better-tasting than most alcohol, though, so he must take tragically tiny sips to maintain a level of sobriety.

"How many council members does it take to screw in a lightbulb?" Ranulf sets down his third glass of wine, a little rougher than he probably should have but they're sturdy little things. "One! Because if there's more than one, it'll be in deliberations for weeks!"

Luke loved being in rowdy crowds. As much as he loved his platoon members, being somewhere where people let down their guard a little and got a little loud were his kind of places.

"Hear hear!" He agreed. Luke raised a toast to Ranulf and downed about half of his glass of wine, not even tipsy yet, but...

Hey.

Was that guy a cat?

Luke stared. He tried to find a headband or something that could explain the blue cat ears, and he also thought that maybe magic could explain the swishing tail at their feet, but honestly? It seemed really real.

"Ah, Professor! Fancy seeing you here!" Byleth is an intriguing individual, for sure. He's been to a few of her lectures, being of her house, and what she lacks in experience she makes up in instinct. She's also hilarious--and it's hard to see how intentional that is, Honestly reminds him of Ike in more than a few ways. "Here to have your fill? Or maybe take the challenge?"

"If it's the latter, may I suggest a friendly competition? No pressure, of course, but 'tis the season!" Ranulf winks, flashing his canines. From what he's seen at the mess hall, he may be in for a match--so much so that he doesn't feel too bad about his plans to shift if things get dicey. "For real, Teach, it's good to see you out and about. Sometimes I worry that your face is gonna freeze in that expression!"

Ranulf playfully flicks their forehead, returning to his seat.

"Alrighty then. We'll have the challenge for two...if the good lady approves?"

The warming smell of baked goods filled the Professor's senses as Byleth walked through the stalls set up in the market place. Following the scent, she was drawn to a table stacked high with crusty pies, their pastry a beautiful crisp, golden brown colour looking inviting to bite into.

The former mercenary was not the only one there for she was greeted by Ranulf, one the students in her house. She recalled his comments in a few of her lectures . . .

"There's a challenge?" She asked curious at which point the stall holder jumped in to explain. It didn't sound too bad and Byleth was grateful she hadn't eaten yet today. "I accept then" She told Ranulf. Turning to the pie merchant, she debated which pie to attempt. Strawberry was more appealing but meat might be easier to eat multiple of especially given that she didn't really have a sweet tooth. "I'll try the meat pie please" She requested, receiveing an overwhelming stack of 20 of them.

"3 . . . 2 . . . 1. . . GO!"

And they were off. Byleth took a bite and hummed in bliss as the warmed spiced meat filled her tastebuds. The mix of cinnamon, nutmeg with a hint of pepper giving it a strong autumnal theme despite it being Midsommer. Byleth was able to polish off the first five pies with little issue. The sixth was less enjoyable and by the tenth she began to tire of the taste.

Glancing across to Ranulf, she wondered how he was doing. The laguz student seemed to methodically working his way through his own food.

They were into the later half of the challenge now and Byleth was starting to feel a bit sick. Even with an increased appetite from training, 20 pies was too many for her.

As she finished her fifteen pie, Byleth admitted defeat. Feeling queasy, she couldn't even bring herself to pick up the next one and frankly if she never saw another pie for a month it would be a good thing.

"I'm done" She declared, pushing the rest of the remaining pies away looking green round the gills. The already consumed food rolled uncomfortably in her stomach causing it to ache. "That's enough food for me for the rest of the week I think"

Not wanting to move, Byleth watched Ranulf and his attempt at the challenge. One thing she was glad of was choosing meat pies rather than strawberry. Having said that, the idea of meat did now revolt her a bit now.

cnc (clans & cats) session with @knightofyngvi , @purrlay, and a fourth cat that wants to join hi one more person can join oooo you wanna rp warrior cats again soooo bad

(grants +1 gauntlet) (ooo gauntlet point oooo)

In spite of the promising buds dotting the once-bare trees, snow clings stubbornly to the ground. Springtime, no, newleaf never seems to arrive when promised. Leafbare still pierces the forest with its icy claws, smothering sprouts and hopes for warmth in a single, frosty sigh. People—cats, rather—don’t seem to mind the cold at all, continuing with their business as though they were right in the heart of newleaf.

One cat minds, however. Certainly now in the middle of the night, with only the moon’s cold gaze staring down at them all. The Great Oak grants little shelter as a chilling wind blows through the clearing. One cat, a “long-haired white tom with orange-striped ears and tail, and amber eyes”, “loafs” as he braces against the wind.

Claude breaks character, muttering a quick apology before he goes to close the drafty window. Warm springs never quite reach Garreg Mach when they’re supposed to.

A cat named…

“...What, I can’t be Claude? But there’s a ‘kittypet’ here named Patches! Oh, fine…” Claude cracks open his Feline Fighters copy, roaming through the allegiances to see if he can work some magic. The Almyran Longhair that he based his character on has about a dozen different names. If human names had been allowed, Tomyris would have been a good option. But none of those options work, and so after a minute or two of thinking…

…Cloudfur is his name, for his soft, white fur. His first Gathering as an official Fighter is an exciting time for any cat, and he’s eager to meet someone new.

“Time out, gotta ask, are we doing introductions first or going straight into the story?” Claude looks through the “adventure” the book gave them, something about saving “kits” that wandered off somewhere. “Figured that it’d be nice to introduce all the cats first. Do you think they met before?”