arcstral

[arcstral]

"You are my best friend in this world." Marth smiled at the broccoli hair man as he talk about their friendship. That is true because marth does not ever lie not even once after he is born. But.... there is still little bit troublement inside of his chest and his heart.

Caeda is so lovely and so is merric who is very smart and handsome. as he think about the idea of their friendship marth thinks that he cannot be so satisfied with this. merric always know what to say to make him feeling so much better....marth cannot help but to love him. maybe...... merric feel same...?

(( ohmy gosh XD sorry i'm so excited ))

"umm if you will always be there for me. do you mean it?" marth look at merric. his eyes are realy really glistening now with eager anticipate for the answer. he gulped and his mouth dry.

"I would really like for you to be my side. as love."

he said this confidently

~~ OPEN STARTER ~~ * MUTUALS ONLY!! PERSONAL BLOGS DO NOT LIKE OR REBLOG *

arcstral​:

Merric iss truly an amazing person he think many times

As marth looking at the magic side that amazingness really really shining and making his mouth open catch flies and painting picture of god. nobody stronger than his wind and his strength and his magic side. Maybe jagen come close but not like merric with exclabur tome And his magic side. Jagen is not that great.

I know you are here for me” he shake his head andd smiling. Thinking about how many times there is dead people because merric killing for marth to stay safe to his magic. merric do anything for him marth also do anything for him

really good friends….

“it bring happyness to be your friend…. and maybe…. one day i become king you be there? i know….  i think so. that is what i think”’marth looking at him very seriously waitng for answer

It makes him delight as he sees happiness on friend face. Mars-sama is happy and Marich is happy too when he sees. The magics he studied exist for him and only him. And lady Elice too ofcourse but most him.

“Mars-sama… i will ALWAYS be there for you and do anythingi can for you” he says very serious like Marth, because he know that to be a very important thing for him. “I am honor to be yuor friend, and will go anywhere with you. and I think you will be Akaneia’s best king ever!”

#TOAaprilfools #ventusanimae

[arcstral]

As his battle came to a close and whatever light wounds he sustained from the Fire and Blizzard spells were patched up, Merric, true to himself, put his own tome aside for the time being and began to tend to others. His own injuries bothered him little - being a Mage, he possesses a resistance to spells above average, after all, especially to small wounds suffered in a mock battle, which pale in comparison to the scorching infernos he and his enemies unleashed upon one another in a true fight to the death.

After a few visits, bandages, healing spells and friendly chats for lifting spirits, the Altean's eyes land on a face well familiar. With a smile, he makes his way through. Though whatever injuries Lord Marth may have seem already taken care of, Merric will never neglect to greet his king and friend.

"Hello, sire. Some formidable opponents you had, huh? Yours truly, too, had to unfortunately excuse himself a bit early. Still, I do hope you found your match enriching and enjoyable."

The reunion with a cherished friend not through battlefield, but through infirmary, is a circumstance that is amusing as much as it is illuminating. Before Merric might even utter a word, Marth is already made acutely aware to the sage's defeat and to the subsequent reflection of their respective losses. This year's Battle of the Eagle and Lion has not been paved by their personal triumphs. The other confirms as much and the smiling king is quick to ready a place for him.

Quiet shuffling scoots him sideways on the cot to make room, several juice boxes at his elbow - one sipped and two unopened, reserves recently attained courtesy of Maria. He extends one such drink to the other, smoothly passing it to his hand in accordance with the traditional lack of decorum between them. "Hello, Merric. I see the same goes for yourself. You are a talented mage—the best I know—I could not envision your defeat to be anything less than close. Your opponents must have been very strong."

A comfortable silence shines in the brief intermission of slurping fruit juice. A bend in the Hero-King's straw occludes the passing of liquid and he adjusts it, fiddling with the angle for a few seconds in correction, before returning to the conversation at hand as if nothing had occurred.

Slurp. Sip. Sluuuuurp.

"And yes, I did find it enriching and enjoyable. It is a pleasure to fight on behalf of one's house, and to cross blades with others doing the same." On that line of thought, curious eyes briefly scan the medical tent for the recent shades and bright pigments of his memory. Pink. Purple. Silver. Lavender. Teal. His attention circles back to Merric with a brightening of features. "But of course, I would care to hear of your thoughts on the experience as well, my friend."

#◜ ╰ ♕ ◦ › royal mandate ‹ ASKBOX. ◞ #toaboel2024 #it's giving: [guy falls through the roof] hey ron. hey billy. #my king arthur and merlin (soft smile) #ventusanimae

[arcstral]

Ever the busy bee, some time passes before Maria presents herself before the Hero-King, though he might not have missed her peeking at him every time she passed by. Then finally, once she's certain he isn't busy, and with her own preparations seemingly complete, the little cleric skitters over happily.

"Prince Marth!" Holding up two juice boxes, one to either side of a toothy grin, Maria then places the drinks beside him. Rising with middle and index fingers newly upheld, there comes a conspiratorial giggle before she shifts her number into a wall, cupping the corner of her mouth.

"Two juice boxes, just for you!" Not that it's anything to be ashamed of -- there's no rule about how much juice someone can have, and Maria wouldn't break the rules if there was -- but the point of it all is the fun of a shared secret. When she retreats, it's with a smile, a wink, and then a freely flowing laugh.

"Don't tell anyone, okay? Oh, and good work out there! Hee hee."

For the watchful Marth who surveys his surroundings, the medical tent thrums with the coming and going of people, not all who enter mundanely in a featureless way identical to others come before them. A fact most gladdening at that, for what a bore such monotony would be! Instead, a familiar robin twitters and her familiar mischief glisters; peeking and passing for many instances, before trumping them all with her eventual approach. The commingling of these things springs an unthinking smile to the Hero-King's face before he can put a thought to its appearance.

When confined to bed rest and recovery the lack for things to do seeds a contrary state of unrest, but an eventful visitor or two is enough to split that spell in half. Welcoming her presence, cornflower eyes land expectantly upon Maria on the brink of greeting, then blink rapidly as not one but two drinks are posited in the space beside him. Testimony, of course, to the ways of a benevolent trickster.

"Oh? I am truly honored to be the target of such a mysterious benefactor."

He chuckles in immediate understanding at the secrecy, with one singular breathy laugh - not too loudly as to draw attention, either. A good and upright king might put in a word of reprimand, but Marth at least in this respect is not the spotless moralist that others think him to be. With Maria as the mastermind, and Marth as accomplice, they will both share in the most sinister, world-ending duplicity evocative of children stealing one too many treats from a midnight pantry.

"I would return the sentiments fully to you, dear Maria. Your work on and off the field is appreciatively observed." As she makes to leave, he raises his juice box in a playful gesture of toast, the other tucked with pantomimed secrecy behind his back; a pirate's plunder too selfishly guarded for viewing by any other eyes. Sealing the vow between them is a wink, returned in kind. "—and will not go told."

#◜ ╰ ♕ ◦ › royal mandate ‹ ASKBOX. ◞ #toaboel2024 #princessmacedon #maria my darlingest daughter hello hello helloooo #i care for them deeply but you knew That

[arcstral]

"Does anything hurt?" Those were Alears first words as she cut her distance with the hero-king. As an spectator she had seen him shine like the brightest star in a sea of warriors, unfortunately even the brightest star grows dark one day. And despite him not raising victor having seen his skills set happiness in her chest.

His javeling took down a rose haired Eagle before his own downfall by a purple haired one. It had been an entertaining fight that she was sure of, her lungs that had been cheering his name alongside many others were proof of that.

A smile on her face as she continued. "I truly believed you would make it, a shame that wasn't the case! Still you did a wonderful job out there." It made her wonder how it would have been to experience it as one of his team members rather than someone cheering for a friend, perhaps it would have felt like old times that had never happened in the first place. "Next time you will do even better, i'm sure of it."

Despite the encouraging words she lifted a pinky towards him.

"If next time i join i would love to fight by your side and if not i'll keep on cheering for you." The Divine Dragon began the search of a promise for a year ahead. "Why don't we promise that we will work hard for next time, together? Do you like the sound of that?"

Bitten by defeat and yet soothed by the inspiriting knowledge that his allies would move on, such is the dichotomy of a loss that is not unwelcome. The way of the Hero-King where every sacrifice of his own is worth the pangs for someone else. That Ephraim and Yuri have proceeded to the next stage, their progression alone instills value in moment otherwise devoid of triumph. Marth's own place for now consigns itself humbly to the medical tents - and to the receiving end of a most pleasant visitor.

"Ah, Alear, not at all, the healers here are exceptionally talented. Within mere hours of admission I have felt rapidly improved." He smiles appreciatively at the girl, agreeable and serene with hands in his lap, nursing a juice box conveyed to him by a helpful young man. A taste as sweet as last year's one could easily note; the reparations for the injured and bed-bound were certainly never spared in quality.

Another sip, another quiet ear lent to the optimistic Elyosian woman. He is in good hands, not singly for the medics that have restored him from his wounds, but the pleasant conversation afterward that allows for the mind to linger on less heavy affairs. Distraction, after all, is but another facilitation and form of healing.

Upon his swallow, he divulges the words on his mind. "I appreciate your kind words. Though I would find it shameful to lose in a true battle, this one is curiously different. Every year of the Battle of Eagle and Lion brings with it cherished memories."

The reunion with Sara, the stalwart front raised alongside two allies, new faces encountered from nothing, all were worth the highest regard and distanced themselves from the shame. A mystery, but one that has been produced time and time again for those entered into this annual ceremony - both the losers and winners to come out of it. Naturally, it is an experience he would wish for the other monarch as well. But first he stirs.

Amusement sparkles in the king's face as he eyes the other's upraised pinky finger, by now solidified as a most faithful habit. An invincible quirk? A tradition carried over from her native land? Though unable to be discerned, it was clear that this gesture replicated itself often in the dragon's behavior. "That is most agreeable to me. Should you join, I am sure it will become an even more inspiring year." In that regard, a shift of his arms links two fingers together, raising up their hopes for the next shining year.

#◜ ╰ ♕ ◦ › royal mandate ‹ ASKBOX. ◞ #alliberacio #miss alear in the inbox:soft_smile: #fingers crossed hope she joins boel with the gang next year #toaboel2024

[arcstral]

🧃

Ewan approached the man that had a very sparkling air about him. “Hiya! You were super eye catching out there!” He complimented him, before handing him a juice box. “Here, to recover some strength!”

Bright, glistering eyes noticed first and an offering second. Marth can only smile at this heartfelt combination, now made aware to the great profusion of small boxes and littered straws that have laid claim to the infirmary scene. Taking the juice in hand reveals a light seal of perspiration upon its surface and the visual demarcation of an apple - a favorite flavor.

No wonder some students and professors have reached for seconds.

"A most appreciated gesture, I thank you kindly. Your work is no less eye-catching at that. I pray you will take breaks throughout such earnest endeavors." With that said, there is a time for wars and monarchs and great sprawling battles between houses, but now is not that time. In order to recover strength as the other student suggests, the perfectly dignified Hero-King seats himself on a cot with ever so slightly swaying legs and proceeds to sip away on his juice box.

#◜ ╰ ♕ ◦ › royal mandate ‹ ASKBOX. ◞ #optimismxmagicism #awh... ewan is so cute thank you for the juice box #toaboel2024

[arcstral]

The reaping scythe falls in the form of a humble blade, not steel but iron, not sharp but blunt, and no less punishing for these distinctions. He lurches back at the quick lightning it deals, that which brings with it three parts; pain, surprise, and a bitter tonic to swallow.

A quiver accompanies the faltering grip on his lance, reflected in his shaken thoughts. There is little Marth desires beyond victory. There is little he fights for except the safety and progression of his allies. From the beginning of a struggle waged alongside two others, the goals he wanted for had seemed nothing but clear. But faced presently with an untimely end to his role, the Hero-King reaches an unexpected threshold. Unknowing until now that he has also wanted for this.

"Not yet! I can still—" Fierce insistence flares up, bubbles its way up the throat in the form of instinctive protest - determined and wanting. Closure; victory; the right to stand beside his friends; what individual alive does not yearn for these things, too? But the rest of the body gives. A buckling of legs dashes his efforts against the dirt, the tapestry of hope and determination finally laid threadbare. A battle of attrition and this ousted king can no longer partake.

He sets down his javelin and acknowledges the limits that have met him with a wall. A vestige of wistfulness touches his smile. "A solid blow. I have met my match, for that I commend you. Your strength will be an unimaginable boon to your house." Again Marth stands, this time staggering and holding his head tall. There is worth in his defeat, the advance of his allies is priceless, and for that major success as well as their own worthy strengths, there will be another price made to pay.

Rueful curve of mouth turns swiftly to coy. ". . .A boon only if you make it past this battle. My friends shall stop you here."

'CALL AN AMBULANCE BUT NOT FOR ME!' —Marth is defeated

it's boeling down now - boel round 1 battle 12

#◜ ╰ ♕ ◦ › kingdom come ‹ WRITING. ◞ #* THREAD. ‘ it’s boeling down now. ‘ #toaboel2024 #partnerindesinty #solarsbrace #aubins

[arcstral]

The two warriors who share his side of the struggle have been weakened considerably and yet their unity cannot fall through. His attention briefly travels toward Ephraim and Yuri, observing their external injuries and aches with concern, before returning to the opposition. Though there are no grave consequences to defeat on Gronder Field, none as irreversible and harrowing as death itself, a part of Marth wishes that they can all advance to the next stage together. A perfect victory with each valued member of their triumverate intact. . .

This thought though childish and idealistic is natural to the king; he has only come this far because of them, and so it would be proper that they step forward to meet the unknown future and its untold battles together as well.

Marth 2/6 HP hits Shez 5/6 HP [Roll: 6, -2 HP; Shez 3/6 HP]

For the sake of a lion victory, and for those who fight with him in its name alongside, his javelin dispenses its stinging jabs - another blow dealt to the student across him moments preceding her lashing sword. This trade of blows besets Marth's face with a weary expression. Each side slowly yet surely being worn down to their very bedrock. Will it be a battle of attrition? Not one of overwhelming strength or acumen, but sheer endurance and willpower?

If the above is the case, he imagines that their present opponent will give them a battle worth recounting for years to come. He nods warmly, acknowledging the efforts brandished on full display. "You stand tall and alone even where two others of your team have fallen. Such resilience is deeply admirable. I have no doubt you are a formidable opponent outside of the restraint this battle demands."

it's boeling down now - boel round 1 battle 12

#◜ ╰ ♕ ◦ › kingdom come ‹ WRITING. ◞ #* THREAD. ‘ it’s boeling down now. ‘ #partnerindestiny #solarsbrace #aubins #toaboel2024

[arcstral]

In the wake of a defeated Sara their formation alters, a westerly motion that shuffles them one step closer to their remaining opponents and even to the end.

As the dust settles, Marth finds that he stands across from the pink-haired student, only now discerning the finer details of twin tails and plumed hat that evaded him from farther distance. She is a noticeable target even beyond those features, wearier than the healthful student beside her. Now will also mark the third time she is fashioned target to Marth's lance - nothing personal in that, of course. Us or them; such is the ideology that shines through in these matters of conflict, irrespective of reality or feigned. He sets his feet in readiness.

Were this a true battle, the next blow would rend her attachments to this world, and such distance would be meaningful for the meeting of eyes as all life saps away. But it is not. Only a mere simulacrum of war, a tradition of Fódlan's most prestigious academy wreathed in history, harmless and merciful by comparison, as well as far friendlier. All these things the king's apologetic expression sheepishly conveys as his javelin strikes thrice; a third and final time.

"Forgive me, milady. It pains me to deliver this blow, but this is a battle, after all."

Marth 3/6 HP hits Poe .5/5 HP with Javelin [Roll:6, -1, Poe 0/5HP] Poe is defeated!

Two incapacitated. . .the lonely remainder in sight. He seizes his javelin and eyes the singular foe that stands valiantly in the way of their victory.

it's boeling down now - boel round 1 battle 12

#◜ ╰ ♕ ◦ › kingdom come ‹ WRITING. ◞ #* THREAD. ‘ it’s boeling down now. ‘ #toaboel2024 #aubins #partnerindestiny #shadoll #loveevangelist #solarsbrace

[arcstral]

The heart can only lighten, of course, faced with Sara who evinces herself to be the same as she was on that sleepy field - on an earlier Gronder year. But regardless of their friendship, in the end it is a mock battle that reserves them both. One that cannot go ignored. They cannot dally in a vacuum of selfish fancies, of preciously sequestered seconds all to themselves; there are others that require them, here and now. Not even the Hero-King can stop the clouds which let loose a sobering rain.

"It's alright, Sara." He gives a sympathetic look at the girl's outburst, then her fall. She is unable to stand but not severely hurt, he notes, then confirms properly with a bend of his knee beside her. A territorial Sara wishes that their hands alone might build another priceless memory, but this moment too can be something of value, even if composed of so many moving parts and shared with individuals beyond them.

"You're getting stronger. I don't think there's ever a doubt about that." Marth smiles gently, known to her explosive power and its candor. She is mistaken only on one point. "However, you spoke of others interfering. But no-one here is your enemy. If allowed, they can help you achieve great things—as allies. To service as your strength as well as any tome. Through this outcome, I hope you will not neglect to see the proof of such merits as well."

He rises. And in that fraction of a pause between speaking and standing, distraction is as much his deterrent as it was so recently Sara's. An agile edge rams into him and forces the king back to his allies with a grunt. He resumes his position, knowing this is now a fight resumed of several lions and two remaining eagles.

Marths roll a 4 for initiative, 3 to tiebreak, 5 to tiebreak (Poe) Marth 3/6 HP hits Poe 1.5/5 HP with Javelin [Roll:16, -1, Poe .5/5HP]

Throwing spear aims again then lands straight and true in the manner of his next words. If there is an improved air of confidence about his javelin, a revitalizing second wind, it is no illusion: "It is not yet over! Let us maintain our efforts to the very end."

it's boeling down now - boel round 1 battle 12

#◜ ╰ ♕ ◦ › kingdom come ‹ WRITING. ◞ #* THREAD. ‘ it’s boeling down now. ‘ #toaboel2024 #partnerindestiny #shadoll #solarsbrace #loveevangelist #aubins

[arcstral]

"—there is no need for thanks, Lord Ephraim." There is a heightening air of resilience and morale about the two groups of three who stand together, in many ways, making full use of bonds still so newly forged. Foregoing courtesy, the meaning is exactly as he says; the need for gratitude is handily expired with common decency on the table. He shoots the taller king a friendly look, finishing with his attention snapped attentively toward the ongoing action. "We each do as we must, for the good of all, even if the battle in question is strictly ceremony."

Doing as they must, as well as stumbling upon ever so familiar faces in the midst of it. Blue eyes brighten upon identifying a certain silvery mage on the receiving end of his ally's stiletto. Even among those posited on this field as his rivals and his enemies, there are welcome friends to be found.

Marth rolls a 3 for initiative, 1 for tiebreaker with Sara

"Goodness, if it isn't Sara! A fond sight as always. I recall a few years ago when we met on Gronder Field, just like this." A different year with a different weapon, of course. He brandishes the distinction with a thoughtful weighing of the lance in his hand, a single nod to forecast his intention to duel, then a toss of its length.

Marth 4/6 HP hits Sara 3/5 HP with Javelin [Roll:12, -2HP, Sara 1/5HP]

Retrieving it from the dewy grass afterward, Marth brushes off the soil clinging to its haft and cannot help but to smile, returned in wistful fractions to a memory. "Your magic has taught me the value of keeping one's distance."

@partnerindestiny @shadoll

it's boeling down now - boel round 1 battle 12

#◜ ╰ ♕ ◦ › kingdom come ‹ WRITING. ◞ #* THREAD. ‘ it’s boeling down now. ‘ #toaboel2024 #aubins #solarsbrace #partnerindestiny #shadoll #loveevangelist

[arcstral]

Several strains of banners command the skies and announce territorial markers for each house, welcoming return and invasion alike. Rugged terrain sprawls underfoot as host to another yearly bout of ceremony. The patterns and expectations of Gronder Field at this time of year are, by this juncture, many times familiar even to the foreign Hero-King. In toting along a new and unfamiliar lance, he is also several beats late to the first clash between friends and temporary foes.

Marth rolls a 2 for initiative

Azure-eyed reckoning passes over a sizable group and finds a spot to intercede with his own efforts. Here, ordinary classmates are transformed by the crucible of 'war' to become the most reliable allies - any newcomer can turn the tide of a losing battle. Novice but known to basic technique, he cocks his spear and throws it at range.

Marth 6/6HP hits Poe 5/5 HP with Javelin at range [Roll: 18, -1HP, Poe 4/5 HP] 

It is as much an attack as a dedicated announcement of presence; if others mean to harm his allies, they will just as well be forced to fight him. More importantly, with numbers matching three-for-three now it has become fair.

"You are never alone, my friends, allow me to aid you!" Marth calls, taking up firm stance between a lavender-haired and teal-haired classmate, his face steeled with determination.

@solarsbrace

it's boeling down now - boel round 1 battle 12

#◜ ╰ ♕ ◦ › kingdom come ‹ WRITING. ◞ #* THREAD. ‘ it’s boeling down now. ‘ #toaboel2024 #aubins #partnerindestiny #loveevangelist #solarsbrace #marth entering the fray with together we ride recruitment theme playing

[arcstral]

It is a circumstance not so unlike the wake of every difficult battle, victory, and loss. Weary faces lined in exhaustion that can barely conceal their effects, battered bodies beholden to the infirmary in droves, and hearts weighed down heavily with the tribulations only recently endured. Though he is largely unknown to the specifics, the aftermath of the monastery's month-long expedition is this king's great interest for the friends and allies it may concern.

And, naturally, only the broad details are required to know there are tasks which necessitate his aid, no different than lending a hand where needed.

"Veyle! So you are here. Should you truly be out and about so soon?"

Marth's attention centers upon the Fell Dragon princess as she is found, gentle yet firm. Young enough to look as a maiden from every point of view, and yet old enough to surpass the age of this continent's oldest doyen by many centuries - such is a familiar mystery of those belonging to dragonkind.

"It is said that the nurses have had trouble admitting you for rest. If you are aware of your own limits, it is fine to move around with due caution applied." He shakes his head, warm despite the situation's arguable severity, with both hands perched upon his hips. "—however, there is need for saying that greater medical opinions should be honored as well."

Patently clear the understanding, without proper rest even the most unassuming wounds are susceptible to be opened, complications flaring anew. But should Veyle be that much resolved to her present task, there is a way to honor the intentions of all parties and place their worries to rest. Eyes pass over the girl's head, open of mind as he assesses their environs: "What is so important that you must bring yourself out from the infirmary? I would care to listen. And assist where I can."

@misericordel

❛ 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 ❜ — Marth & Veyle

Mission Board: Recovery, any skill +1

#◜ ╰ ♕ ◦ › kingdom come ‹ WRITING. ◞ #* THREAD. ‘ after war comes peace. ‘ #◜ ╰ ♕ ◦ › either way; the fate of this world rests on our hands ‹ ANY POINT. ◞ #misercordel

[arcstral]

Peace, in the end, occurs within a pair; a cycle between conflict and resolution as constant as the seasons, where after the patchy wildfires of war and banditry have burned out a quiet rebirth naturally follows. This is a stage that King Marth knows well, the period hard at work putting one's efforts to the task of repair. Though the helping faces alongside him may swap and change like the tools in one's hand, they are, in the end, the same tools as he knows. The very same resources that can be trusted to help defend a village, lay a new brick, or lift away a troublesome pillar of debris. To accomplish together what no man can do alone.

Although, sometimes - and only sometimes - the strangers in his company are found to be more familiar than not.

"—pardon me."

The charred hovel groans beneath carefully laid steps, cautious across the damaged floorboards where they tread, but loud enough for the courtesy of announcing approach. Shortly upon entry there is already someone found inside. At a glance, the vivid blue coursing down her back is the first quality to catch his eye - a nostalgic coloration that evokes his darling Caeda and a puzzled lull of deliberation. Second of notice comes her discomfited behavior.

"Oh! Please remain where you are. You are not intruding. I was merely making my rounds of the premises, gauging where help could be offered." The tense set of her shoulders and avoidant gaze spells to Marth an unknown but not by any angle unreasonable story. Perhaps she is unversed in socializing with others or prefers more simply to work alone.

In that case, it is only a respectful overture that he offers.

"I see you found a keepsake of the family that resided here. How wonderful. Such things hold no value to brigands, but they are priceless memories to those they may concern," he smiles not unkindly, remaining at distance though standing side-by-side. Focus maneuvers sideways to the frame in her hand, lingering on the fractured silhouettes. Gold diadem twinkles on a curiously tilted head. "You asked of the former residents as well. Are they in your acquaintance?"

⋆ ｡kin drama

recovery / axe +1

#◜ ╰ ♕ ◦ › kingdom come ‹ WRITING. ◞ #* THREAD. ‘ kin drama. ‘ #◜ ╰ ♕ ◦ › no one knows who made it or where but it’s said to rival even the three regalia ‹ AXE. ◞ #exclted

[arcstral]

. [ ━━━ ACT I. grievances, ]

SUNLIGHT CONTINUED TO IDOLIZE ITS ADVANTAGE OVER HER, even now, with the sky resolute in its emptiness above the monastery, everything the day was not. the bishop worried away at her bottom lip, scratching restlessly at the reddened irritation spreading across sepia skin, stretching over her knuckles and retracing the invisible edges of old, burn scars. if not for her inability to cling to slumber, she would be tucked beneath a duvet, reciting the inked lines of her journal until fatigue took her. but this night was not kind to her.

this revelation was, thus, reiterated by the soft fall of footsteps behind her. eremiya huffed, still scratching at her hand, utterly stuck between returning to her chambers or turning to face the strange without the safety of a veil. Do not, came the utterance of His voice, but she had. turning on her heel, hands joined at her stomach, she mustered a monotone smile, thinly pulled to fit the gap of her countenance. though she opened her lips to speak━━━apathetic heather irises met a gentle cobalt━━━recognition stole the very breath from her throat. her nails dug into blemished skin, marking herself with crescents absent above them.

hero-king stood before the bishop, regal even in the wake of his restlessness; certainly, too, unable to sleep as she had. and the thought of him simply being able to wake and sleep and repeat the torturous process of rest that was once stolen from her, only a fortnight ago, upon death, nearly sent her forward in a lunge. her hands trembled against her stomach, a vulnerability untraceable in her countenance. how unfortunate, it was, that he seemed so at peace, far away from his home in altea; a king so selfish he could not be satisified with just one continent knowing of his fame.

but the marth that stood before her could not be the same marth that wielded against her, the magic of her daughter. the very marth gharnef confessed, to her, a hopeful, similar fate of hypocrisy. Apparations, He suggested, and she took any excuse over the bitter possibility of truth.

when words left her, they were hardly better than a growl, “you,” eremiya seethed, a twitch in her eye and once placid smile, now recognized only as a scowl. He had been your responsibility, and she knew it, forsaken by the memory of a violet-haired disgrace. thus, she clicked her tongue, “i refuse to be taunted by the hospitality of ghosts.”

a pause. eremiya could not bring her gaze from his; untrusting that her eyes would not be led astray by the weight of a weapon at his hip. she had not looked yet, and would not introduce the hostility when her mage hand refused to commit to the magic it once conjured. so, she turned her head and sharpened her inner turmoil into a shield, “join the faint memory of your knight-toy and let me be. archanea is... yours, boy. lord gharnef and i have sought elsewhere... somewhere far from you and your heroic guilt.”

and quieter, she spat, scratching restlessly once again at the burns on her hand, "unlike reese, i will not tame the urge to kill you if you appear before me again."

The stillness of a serene night passes unexpectedly to throes, a rasping and growling voice that shatters the peace with its violating presence. Light and feminine, yet harsh and unforgiving, wickedly hateful above all those things, the disturbing figure it belongs to is as much a force of reprehensibility as a beast in a nursery. Gloved fingers travel to the wrapped hilt of his sword on a quick-second judgment, but standing before the obstacle now elucidated on his path - before the dreg of Gharnef known as Eremiyah - his eyes only widen with surprise.

Uncertain what to think, but known more than certainly of what to say, "Eremiyah? It is I who should be speaking of ghosts. I did not know you survived, much less made your way here as well."

The memories she stirs are unwelcome, of course. The twisted mother Eremiyah who did not care of the fate of her 'children' so long as they served their uses. It is the phantom heat of her Meteor that compels his fingers to stay where they are though his thoughts wander elsewhere. Katarina; aware of Eremiyah's return and fixated on that tumult, or unaware and merely waiting to be caught in the difficult discovery. . .

His eyes narrow, not merely for that line of thought alone. "Lord Gharnef? You speak of him as if he is still. . ." He holds; his tongue, his sword hand, and the very thought that Gharnef yet lives with this woman's word alone as its intimation.

The pious servant before him scratching aimlessly at her own skin is not perfectly stable, he realizes. Or had she been ever? Marth could recall the wicked expulsion of spells and curses in the unlit dungeon thought to prove her sepulcher, the unholy names branding the orphans she'd purposed as assassins and soldiers, the hatred spilled onto Katarina who had yet to die for her. He remembers, too, that such a clash had felt less like a battle - and more like putting out the last piddling flames of Gharnef's servants so they would never catch again.

"Whether or not we cross paths, know I've no desire to disturb you. The time for our battles is far in the past. In fact, I hope you will reach the same conclusion. There is no meaning to conflict any longer. Even if Gharnef is alive there is no way for his ambitions to continue either, and if there is—

The Hero-King's gaze turns steady; unwavering lapis resolve without pollutants of fear or incertitude or even hatred. Every enemy of peace will not know merely his sword, but a hundred, a thousand, a million more, numbering as many as the faces at his side who stand with him for the same dream. That much is not promise but fact.

"—we will stop him again."

Hand slips away from blade and distances from the perceived threat of Eremiyah. The fangless mother without the bite of her children or the leash of her master. His boots tread forward and past with the crisp contact of heels and cobbles, a ghost only in the way his airy voice passes her. "There is always a chance for redemption. Katarina has seized it admirably. So may you. Have a good evening, sister."

#◜ ╰ ♕ ◦ › royal mandate ‹ ASKBOX. ◞ #motheruin #hello sister eremiyah :') #your voice for her is so vicious but charming #excited to observe her future arcs

[arcstral]

To his delight, he discerns a wily plan burgeoning and fusing behind the clear blue eyes before him - eyes that can literally be called his own. Strange though it well and truly may be, he does not remark on the strangeness of seeing another don his form. They already have come this far immersed in a necessary game of pretend and so Marth merely notes Katarina's implicit suggestion with an answering smile. An answering reach of fingers.

"Ah, yes, that scrape—it was only a cooking mishap. Nothing worth attention, sire. But if you should like to see for yourself how well it has healed. . ." Gone without word by either of them; perhaps in doing so, they would heal the greater affliction at hand. His breath holds without realization as their fingers approach, pinched in his lungs by a great and inexplicable sense of anticipation. Would contact be the solution they were looking for? Would it resolve their predicament and turn them back to their original bodies in an instant?

Fingers graze. Seconds flit by. Several instants come to pass and—

He jolts with a series of blinks, at a brief and slightly belated sensation that could be likened to a spark, as if it were magic fired off on lengthier charge. His palm does not feel stinging, merely warmer than its previous state. None of this would compose the complete transformation of odds they are looking for, but they were still reactions that held promise - a beginning. Theories already circle his thoughts and seek to land.

Marth retracts his - Katarina's - fair hand and gazes at her with a questioning expression as the right words take a moment to form their veil. "Apologies, sire, it seems my hands are quite. . .cold. With that said, I believe somewhere warmer would do me some good. If you would care to do so—"

A quick glance to the the outdoors and its wide-open doors. To any place where they may speak freely and conducts as many experiments as they could please.

"I would recommend that we take a walk out in the courtyard."

❛  𝐀 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐧 (𝐔𝐧)𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐬  ❜   —   Katarina  &  Marth

#◜ ╰ ♕ ◦ › kingdom come ‹ WRITING. ◞ #* THREAD. ‘ a day in (un)kingly shoes. ‘ #ephemeralove

[arcstral]

The inflection of his queen's voice bids him pause, or perhaps it is his own silent tribulations which spell the action. He regards Caeda carefully at the call of his name, wondering how much to divulge of his troubled mind, or how little, until the precarious decision-making reaches its conclusion on a sigh. There is nothing he can hide from her, after all; not now, not ever. She is the individual who knows him best, and most deserving at that to hear the words that will come from him next.

His focus returns to her, tone steady yet unsure: "I had hoped to tell you there was nothing wrong, Caeda, but that would not be entirely honest. In truth, amidst our conversation I was reminded of what our future entails. That is, a family of our own. And the necessity of heirs: successors to Archanea's peace."

A family of their making; his reference to their future offspring is surely predictable, an affair that every manner of prince and princess should know well as a means of securing their kingdom's future, so this is not where trouble precisely brews.

He smiles at her, habitual warmth tinged with some sadness and even regret. That he should plague Caeda with his worries feels unbecoming and undeserved. After Archanea's difficult wars, after weathering countless untold battles and storms, it is happiness alone that ought to reserve her, at least in Marth's mind.

"To father such an important child who will carry our torch—children, even! In that regard, I must admit that the prospect of a family frightens as much as it excites." It is precisely because an oath of duty presently occupies them that he understands what must come, grimacing on the admission of his unease. Fearing the weight of the Hero-King's crown on a head too small to bear it.

❛  𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬  ❜   —   Caeda  &  Marth

#◜ ╰ ♕ ◦ › kingdom come ‹ WRITING. ◞ #* THREAD. ‘ flowering troubles. ‘ #arcaeda

[arcstral]

he is very pretty. he is looking overly acceptable to my gaze. i am feeling really threatened and appreciative right now.

#◜ ╰ ♕ ◦ › hearth revival ‹ HOUSEKEEPING. ◞ #woke up this morning expecting nothing #got a heart attack realizing it was a marth alt #then heart palpitations once i realized he looked GOOOOD #even better since this is marth's first alt since his cyl win in 2021 which makes him the third longest waiting lord #anyways how has your morning been this was mine!!!