#toaunscripted2022

edain thinks she understands now who the enemy is, which only left her to deal with the guilt of attacking an ally. though she'd done what she could with the information she had, so she tries not to dwell on it.

the priestess sticks back to the rear as she always does in fights, focusing on taking care of the injuries that her comrades sustain. she ignores the ache in the side of her stomach, focusing on takumi first before anyone else. she'd let him get hurt earlier after all, her guilty conscious wouldn't let her do otherwise.

[ edain rolls to recover takumi, 8, +6HP, takumi: 12/12HP ]

"hang in there, takumi." she tells him as her hands glow faintly with the blessed light of her faith, his injury all but disappearing from his body. this would always be her place in battle— taking care of others. every time she healed a wound like this the thought cemented itself in her brain.

     Obsessing over every inch of the map, Andrei finds, does little to actually ease his nerves, but it at least gives him the illusion of being well-prepared, which he’ll take over nothing at all. To that end, he had asked Leo to go ahead back to the ship with the rest of their few supplies, and had chosen an out-of-the-way spot for the opportunity to sit down and commit as much of the map to memory as he can.

     The ‘treasure’ is, of course, located on the furthest area from their island, near the very edge of the map that ostensibly leads towards the ‘New World’. Multiple islands are scattered about between them, and markings that look suspiciously like deep waters and some sort of whirlpool stand in their way. His head pounds just staring at the paper.

     Worrying won’t help matters. Andrei grits his teeth, ignoring his own dread as he stands up and directs his steps towards the harbor once more, spurred by the rapidly darkening skies as night begins to fall. He can’t escape taking the ship no matter how much he wants to, and so he must face it, as he’s faced everything else.

     (He’s already lost the most important person in his world once, to his own despicable cowardice. What more can he lose here?)

     Consumed by thoughts of the upcoming journey as he is, Andrei hardly notices where he’s going until he runs into someone ahead. “My apol—” he stops, finally taking in the figure before him.

     “...Edain,” he says quietly, trying to hide how guilt stabs at him with the memories of their previous interaction.

It was finally time.

Nanna took a deep breath, walking towards the stage with the rest of the girls. No matter how much time they had to practice, Nanna couldn’t stop the nerves from creeping up with every step she took.

“I’m sure we’ll do amazing…” And though she says it loud enough for all of the girls to hear, Nanna knows that she’s mostly trying to reassure herself. Of course she would do all she could! But…what if she forgot a move? Or stepped on someone’s foot? Or—

‘Enough! You’re worrying yourself over nothing!’ She sighs, fiddling with the pink outfit that fit her like a glove. Jeez, they really planned this down to the final detail… I guess that was even more reason to do well considering how much work went into the production.

They’re in place, and Nanna can feel eyes on her before they’ve even begun to dance. Though her practices were poor, she knew that she couldn’t mess it up now— not when everything was leading up to this moment!

( And though she didn’t want any of them to be eliminated, the uncertainty of what would happen afterwards made her want to do her best. )

“Let’s give it our all!”

The music starts.

Roll 3d10. Technique: 11; Choreography: 8; Wow: 3; Total: 57

She moved professionally, almost as if she was a trained dancer— but just like the practice runs, Nanna couldn’t help but notice that she was too focused on perfection yet again, unable to connect to the audience. It was good, but it was missing something: personality.

It had been years already. Mercedes had given up all hope of ever returning to life in Fodlan. A distant world, a lifetime forever out of reach. She had settled down into her life by General Malo’s side, aiding the woman in every mission that was thrown their way. It’s on one of those missions that Mercedes wakes up somewhere that is very clearly not a military base.

At first there’s a stage. Taunting. Then there isn’t a stage at all. It’s difficult to wrap her head around but she finds herself amongst familiar faces. Allies from Rhedrise. Other faces too, on the opposing side.

Now united against a common enemy. Even the glint in Melanthios’ eyes feels like a challenge. Makes her blood scream out. 

She takes the Ichor scroll in her hands, and the screaming is replaced by a chorus of muses. Mercedes knows what must be done.

Roll d20:12! Hit! 3 damage to Melanthios. Reduced to 1.5 by Agarthan Technology. Roll d20-4: 15! Hit. 2.5 damage to Mercedes. Melanthios recovers 1 HP. Deals 1HP out of Combat to Mercedes Melanthios has 13.5/14 HP remaining Mercedes has 6.5/10 HP remaining

Roll d2: 1! Crest of Lamine activates. Roll d20: 10! Mercedes uses Recover to heal Lyn. Lyn and Mercedes both recover 4 HP Lyn has 9/10 HP remaining. Mercedes has 10/10 HP remaining

It’s frustrating enough that her spells are weakened by something dark and ancient. Even worse when the Dark Bishop saps her own strength too. Thankfully, Mercedes feels the power of her Crest and takes the opportunity to do something useful. Lyn already looks exhausted and the battle has barely started. Slipping over to her side, Mercedes casts Recover, restoring her own health and vitality as well.

“Feeling better? Let me know if you’re injured again, okay?” Mercedes says to Lyn, giving the woman’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. This wasn’t going to be an easy battle but if they could rely on one another’s strengths, she was sure they’d prevail.

     “Yes, finally!!” The moment they’re out of the town, Khalkós wastes no time in jumping from Lucius’ shoulder, a bright flash enveloping her body in midair. When the light clears, she is back in her full form, looming over Lucius in a gesture that would seem threatening, if not for the sheer glee on her expression. “Come on, let’s do the thing!” she immediately says in her natural, booming voice, holding out her four arms in an eager gesture.

     “M-must we...?” Lucius sighs, but obligingly grabs ahold of one thick, trunk-like upper arm, allowing Khalkós to hoist him into her arms. With a joyful shout, she rushes off before Lucius can do more than beckon to the other two to follow.

     But the spirit speeds up, and it’s only when they’re alone that she sets him down, regarding him with an oddly serious look.

The trees are dense, as is the fog, and it's hard to see through to anything but... darkness. There's the sound of the stream nearby, but everything else is... eerily quiet. Khalkos considers their options for a moment, then lowers her voice so that Daimon and Ophelia can't hear. "We ought to lose... them somewhere."

     It’s clear who she refers to. Lucius looks troubled for a moment, but then shakes his head, voice firm in reply. "We cannot," he says, gaze lingering on Ophelia in the far distance, "I won't leave them here, in the path of possible danger."

     Though, he can't say his curiosity hadn't been piqued by the other... spirit? Daimon, who in all honesty seems similar to Khalkós in some aspects. Lowering his voice further to match hers, Lucius asks, kindly, "Is it the presence of the other spirit that bothers you?"

"Something's wrong about him," she answers, frowning. "Something I can't quite put my finger on." Though perhaps that something is the fact that he's gotten under her skin by waving freedom in her face. "If I can't trust my eyes, then I can trust my guts. And my guts are never wrong."

     "I believe you," Lucius says, "And I'll be sure to mind him. But I have... a duty as well, and I can't give that up. Please understand." He cannot allow his student to come to harm if he could be there to prevent it.

Khalkós grumbles, but gives a nod of understanding. Where Lucius goes, she goes.

     Walking back within earshot of the others, Lucius gives an apologetic look. “The trees are too thick to pass through this way,” he says, “Maybe we’ll have to try another direction?”

[continued from here]

She takes Delancey’s words as a compliment- She may have no To-witter presence yet, but her name is a staple within the Adrestian Empire. Everyone there knows the next Emperor. “I’m afraid not. To-witter is new to me.”

With the registration screen now open, Edelgard begins to insert her phone number. She does so at a slow speed on the chance she happens to mistype. She can’t imagine what else to make her To-witter user information than the name she dons, and thus, opts to type in @edelgardvonhresvelg. To the point, but at least it’s clear who this account belongs to. That is her desire.

She is perplexed with the sight of an odd nothingness for a ‘profile picture’, hypothesizing that it must be a standard default. Turning back to Delancey, she nods in agreement: “It would look rather.. empty without a visual of myself. Thank you for the assistance.” Taking a good image on her phone evades her, but she will be sure to pick up on it sooner rather than later.

10,000 followers is a hefty number- Enough to make up something of a sizeable army, too. She can see the advantages in having a large following at her very fingertips. If the Imperial Princess can amass a following that size, perhaps it may prove much more useful than she had initially anticipated. “I see.. That’s quite the audience. It’s rather impressive. I expect you’ll be following me back, yes?” There’s a smile of confidence as she speaks, hopeful and wondering.

-- THE EXCHANGE WITH Malo to split up takes hardly more than a second, Monica offering a firm nod in response as her grip on Mercedes’ wrist slips and switches on over to Chrom’s.

“ C’mon, pretty boy, “ she chirps, “ it’s all up to us, now~! “

The gunshots have long faded, and while she’s sure that she’s in the right area, the specificities of the location have long left her. She glances around, cursing internally, but fails to see anything (a groove freshly carved into the ground, the scratched glance of a wooden beam) that would give anything away.

Frustrated, she slows to a stop as best she can in the middle of the staircase, surveying the stores in front of her to no real success. Maybe it’s the glare of the sun in her eye or the dust settling down around her, but she cannot get her eyes to focus.

“ Hey, pal, “ she claps Chrom on the shoulder as best she can, “ you mind giving this a good ol’ once over for me? “

“Don’t give the enemies ideas!” Delancey had chastised her earlier. Elincia paid her no mind, clearly.

She watches like a hawk as Ingrid, Merric and Shez go through the choreography. No matter her warnings, Merric and Shez were her friends. Her students. They were more her people than Delancey could hope to be. Elincia would help them with whatever she could, as both a dear friend and their teacher. 

Even if it felt like pulling teeth.

Merric wasn’t a bad dancer per se, although he lacked his own flair and groove. His movements were so focussed on being correct that they lacked individuality. A chance to show his personality on stage. Perhaps he was just trying to master the choreography before trying to add his own take, they could discuss ideas after. How and where to add dynamics, facial expressions, things to take his dancing from fine to great. Although that would clearly have to wait.

Ingrid and Shez kept colliding with one another, both of them getting the direction wrong in different sections. With limbs failing, Shez lacked any sort of tension or power in his movements and seemed to rush his way through the choreography. On the other hand, Ingrid was as stiff as a board. Her moves were restrained, jerky and slow. A far cry from her grace upon a pegasus, lance in hand. Elincia knew both of them could move well, had seen it with her own eyes. With a weapon in hand the pair were both fluid and controlled. However, with music in the background. They seemed to lose all sense of co-ordination entirely. She had to put a stop to this before someone was hurt.

“Okay, okay stop!” Elincia shouts, stepping forward and turning the music player on the kiwi phone off. “I’m going to need all three of you to separate, to start with. Merric, you’re fine. Room for improvement but you’re doing well enough. I’d like you to run through the choreo again but think a little less.”

The trio quieted and she took a moment to shoot Merric a reassuring smile. He was doing well, he could just do with being a little less calculated. The odd mistake was a worthwhile trade off for a more energetic and personal performance. So long as he didn’t degenerate to the level of his classmates.

“Don’t be scared about making little mistakes, you have this down. Try it with a little more bounce or charm - whatever feels comfortable for you. Dancing isn’t just about movement, it’s about personal expression!” Her shoulders drop as she faces Ingrid and Shez. If they could manage the movements it would be a small miracle. Elincia wasn’t going to give up on them though. Who knows what would happen if one of them was voted off? Would they simply cease to be in this tale? “On the other hand, you two need to get that down first. Then we can build up. You have opposite issues. Ingrid, you’re so stiff it looks like moving is painful for you. Shez, points for enthusiasm but your limbs are all over them. I know you’ve developed muscle control from your training but you need to apply it.”

“Let’s see, shall I go through the first count or two and then let you two have ago? Try to copy me and then I’ll give you some tips and personal help?”

Flicking the music app on her kiwi Phone, Elincia starts playing the music and stands still through the first few beats to create tension. Then she takes herself through the steps, trying not to overcomplicate it. A simple step back on her left foot then swinging the right out. An arc of her right arm as she brings her legs together, bending her knees and waving her hand through four more beats, until her arm was fully extended. Then she turned to her allies.

“Okay, now it’s your turn. Merric, just give me a shout if you need any help.” He was such a gentleman though, would he really feel comfortable interrupting them? Possibly not, she’d have to adjust her teaching methods to include him. It would be easier to keep track of all three of them if they were easily in her field of view, too. “Actually, come over here. You have this polished. Show them how you do it - I want them at your level by the end of today.”

“You’re doing really well, I think what you’re doing is perfectly fine. I do think you have the potential to really shine though, so please forgive me if I push you a little.”

As beautiful as they are, she hopes Ingrid and Shez have some other skills to make their mark in this competition. It looked like dancing was going to be an uphill battle.