#sapphiresovereign

a heartbreaking text

[4:13am] I got an email from the lawyer, before dinner.

Emmeryn turned away from the bright light of her phone, and stared out the window. Their father had just died, and she stood in her empty dorm room with a sort of hollow anger in her heart. The family lawyer had sent her an copy of Dickard’s will, that she was still trying to come to terms with.

[5:05am] And, I just want you to know I’m not. I’m not mad at you. I love you

[5:20am] It’s not your fault you were what he wanted, and I wasn’t.

Gripping her phone too hard, Emmeryn was so tempted to just throw the device across the room. She had class in four hours, a nine am she had laughed to take. She’d probably send the professor an apologetic email. 

Death in the family, after all.

continued from here

@sapphiresovereign

Ylisse. It came of some relief to Berkut that neither was familiar with the other’s homeland, but more comforting than that was that he had at last found another nobleman who - so far, at least - appeared to act in accordance with his station. Unlike the parade of bizarre and offensive behavior he had seen from princes and peasants alike that evening.

“I must correct myself: it is the One Kingdom of Valentia now. Is that more familiar?” As Chrom tested his drink, Berkut watched him carefully. The resemblance was rather uncanny...

@sapphiresovereign || [x]

Whatever magic it was that brought this show to life was pretty incredible. It was like a play, but the actors were not real and paper thin.

Plays were usually something prepared and dressed nicely for, but with this it felt more… comfortable. Casual. Even if he wasn’t curled close with Robin.

Their voice came quietly, and he looked back over, smiling easy and humming.

“I’m well. What of you though-” He noticed how the blanket was wrapped tightly around them, and how close they clung to his side.

“You look cold.” He laughs lightly, moving to unfasten his cape. It wasn’t very heavy cloth, but it always held his body heat well. He pulls it over to cover them both. “There. Better?”

This was definitely something that Robin hadn’t experienced. It seemed strange to him, but also incredibly interesting. Who knew what kind of magic that was able to create something like this. So real, but not real at the same time. It had to be some sort of illusion.

Yet tonight was not a night to wonder about the mechanics of such things. Robin just wanted to enjoy time with Chrom. However it worked, it was lovely. Scary, but nothing horrifyingly so.

Robin nodded. He hadn’t wanted to say anything, but Chrom could tell that he was cold. He tended to get colder easier than some people, chalking it up to his home country being rather hot. Robin smiled up at him.

Send “beep” for a : 11) Confession via text

Sometimes, in the dusky early hours, the vestiges of nightmares and fragments of an old, buried life would linger in the shadows on the walls before moon or sun could drive them away. And it was in those rare moments of clarity that a strange sort of calm, a sense of wholeness, would envelop Zeke in place of the panicked fear that pulled him to consciousness. His fingers found their way to the metal plates on the chain around his neck and slid across the name etched into the steel, channeling the spectral memories that eluded him in the daylight hours.

A name floated into the darkness behind his eyelids:

Marth.

The famous director. Not many didn’t know him, Zeke tried to reason.

Cornelius, his late father. Also a public figure.

But the images that flashed rapidly through his mind were far too personal to be confused with the stories broadcasted on the evening news.

Zeke rolled over for his phone with a muted gratitude that search engines were so easily accessible now, but on the screen instead was a message from Chrom. Marth’s grandson.

Still in the clutches of his dreams, he couldn’t read it, but blindly thumbed a reply:

[sent - 4:18 AM] Forgive me Chrom.....I may have done something very bad to your family.......I do not remember what...

[sent - 4:21 AM] That is not to make light of the situation.....but there is much that I do not remember....

[sent - 4:23 AM] Chrom ask your grandfather about Camus....maybe he will know..

[sent - 4:26 AM] I want to make amends for whatever I have done.....but you are welcome to hate me...

I got 7 of these in a short span of time aieee XD

Hmm… It might be neat to have Belf be accidentally good at poetry down the line; and then that could be another similarity between him and me. I remember writing a poetry project back in eighth grade and my favorites were the ones where I just… let it flow? And more than once I’ve given my mom a birthday card involving a spur-of-the-moment poem. With Belf being a knight, though, I imagine his poetry might go more down the Wilfred Owen line instead.

Sometimes in the twilight, when everyone else was gettingready to sleep or go on watch, Genny would remember her mother. It was afleeting memory, barely there before it twisted away and vanished like thesmoke that rose from their campfire.

Once in the dark, her mother carrying her in a sling acrossher back, the pair had come across a patch of glowing mushrooms. They hadtwinkled like stars on the forest floor, pale shades of blue and green. Genny’smother had paused to take in the sight, even taking her daughter off her backto point out the different types of fungus.

Then they had continued on, stars beneath their feetmirroring the stars that twinkled softly above their heads.

//I am terrible when it comes to remembering who plays who across multiple characters haha, so the chromble it is~

[A * for something our characters have alike…]

A seasoned warrior who spends more time roaming the countryside fighting off bandits than actually spending time in cities. Their story begins when they find a stranger on the side of the road, who turns out to be key in the upcoming conflict.