#toadevotedstart

    May unending love and devotion find you...! 

   Really, Pelleas nailed it. For all the feathers he ruffled by telling her she looked like someone else ( Hilda, dang you!!! ), he absolutely pulled it back in the end. That’s exactly what she was looking for — unending love and devotion. 

     And maybe, just maybe, it was on the horizon today... 

    Today, Serra looked her best. She was wearing a long, lilac dress with yawning sleeves and a small train, and a pearl necklace, situated above a high neckline. Hair was tied up in her usual pigtails, but it was braided a bit before it was tied off, giving it a really charming look.

    And, most importantly, of course, she had a crumpled note with a line of poetry on it, in her hand. 

   Well... maybe it shouldn’t stay in her hand. She put it on the white-clothed table in front of her. Smoothed it out a little. Really, why did it have to be crumpled? It looked so bad, so ugly! It made her look all messy, and stuff! Ugh...

    But... if this was what was going to help her find her one true love... she’d do it! 

   There the swordsman found himself, in the midst of an explosion of decoration and Day of Devotion cheer. Thanks to an awkward encounter with a fellow classmate, he was given all the instructions he needed to participate. He tried to play it cool, but it was nearly impossible to not feel awkward when everyone was looking you up and down. He couldn’t blame them though, it was merely apart of this silly game he had been dragged into. 

   Scathach shuffled rather ungracefully to an empty table to assemble what had been asked of him in the card. Like Pelleas had echoed, the card called for ‘  a stuffed animal friend with you on your shoulder ’. He looked into the empty beaded eyes of the plush and wondered just how this could get any more embarrassing. With hesitance, he attached the furry friend onto his shirt with a safety pin. It sat tall upon his shoulder, surely proud to be there, but Scathach could not have dreaded it more. 

So begins another of these seek-and-find events, and as she had been so brightly told: love abounds! From where she sits in the courtyard, Maria can see the hustle and bustle of Garreg Mach begin to grow, envoys flitting from place to place and leaving hallways and classrooms all a-titter in their wake. For her part, she holds a number of white clovers in her lap: ten, just to be sure - or rather, there had been ten; they number seven now. Three of them now twine about her fingers, one each tied to her index, ring, and pinkie, a soft contrast to the lone ring upon her middle finger, silver with a gentle blue stone. 

It holds the spirit of her instructions, at least -- so she hopes, elsewise she has enthusiasm largely beyond her means. She simply does not have nine more rings to wear! Nor can she borrow any from Michalis, liable as they are to fall right off of her... and that is assuming he has enough to cover the rest! But flower rings must surely count... right? Or perhaps they didn’t, and she would be interfering with someone else’s secret signal. 

There were too many people in the ballroom. Some were searching for their mystery partners, others were doing or wearing... odd... things.

Marianne was told to do an odd thing. Which, judging from what some of the others were told to do... could have been worse? She was thankful that she wouldn't have to go around speaking to others to try to find her mystery partner.

She also wasn't quite certain how she felt about being called "mortal of the frigid heart." Perhaps it was best not to look into the eccentricities of Odin... He did have an interesting habit of... well approaching things.

Marianne took a deep breath. Perhaps her partner would enjoy a nice stroll outside? Away from all these people? It would give them an easy out to leave, and they wouldn't have to be seen with the cursed girl.

She took a seat at one of the tables. It was set up in a lovely way. The flowers were nice and the lace was delicate.

Starter for someone totally normal :)

Roy adjusted his sword pin, making sure it was prominently displayed on the front of his uniform. His instructions had been delivered in a rather dramatic manner, and he had no idea if it was a hint as to who his destined partner was, or a side effect of the deliverer.

Either way, he stood in the center of the party, awkwardly rotating a few degrees every few moments to let people see his pin and to seek his match.

He hoped it was Lilina, but whoever it was, he’d have a good time, he was sure of it.

He ate a chocolate pastry as he waited. May as well enjoy the refreshments, right? His noble presentation battled valiantly against the onslaught of flaky pastry, and it was as he brushed off his uniform top that he raised his eyes to lock onto a matching sword pin.

Um.

A Devoted Hearts Starter

Linhardt actually arrives at a decent time.

Of course, he is by no means early, and it’d be charitable to say he arrived at the stated time, but he’s not horribly late, so. That’s worth something, isn’t it?

At the very minimum, it’s not like he just woke up from a nap and then left. Today was a special occasion (to most), and so, out of some mild respect, Lin decided to actually dress up. (That isn’t why he was late, of course. He’d simply taken his time getting there.) His gaze glides across the room, and he notes almost everyone else looks nice as well. That’s nice.

Then he finds a spot to sit and take a nice nap.

He doesn’t do so, however, without first setting out his clue. Normally, he would have a white ribbon as a part of his outfit, — and even now, he had one tied around his wrist, — but the prompt asked him to bring a treasured item in a jar, and this was the closest thing he had to that. A white ribbon in a jar. A compelling conversation starter.

Heels clack against the hardwood flooring as Elincia makes her way to the monastery’s ballroom. Her heart speeds up slightly as she hovers near the entrance. Her fingertips graze the handle as light, giddy laughter fills the air. Nervous excitement pushes her forward, into the waiting arms of destiny.

The festival is already in full swing. An explosion of petals litter the floor in various shades of pink whilst live music plays along to the rhythm of conversations held at every table, upon the dancefloor and perhaps a little more hushed behind the grand pillars holding the painted ceiling above them. Elincia had almost forgotten her previous shyness, any timidness having to be left behind in childhood. Yet it resurfaces today, bubbling up in her chest as she tries in vain to straighten out the skirt of her dress. After all, she must look her best for such an auspicious meeting.

Yet when she catches a glance at her reflection, she cannot help but frown. Biting her lip, Elincia attempts to adjust the large, frilly pink bow behind her head. Was it too ostentatious? Did it clash terribly with her hair? Owain had instructed her that it was a mark of untold power. One prophesied to bring her and her beloved together. She had no desire to doubt him, not any reason really. Elincia was sure he was telling her the truth - or at least, the truth as far as he knew and believed it to be so. Such an honourable man would never attempt to deceive her.

Azura sits at a table, chin in her hand. I show up at the eleventh hour, so I get it, but he gave me a… bone? She holds a small chicken bone between her finger and the table, wobbling it side to side in boredom. Maybe my partner already left? Ugh, how embarrassing.