laslow

[laslow]

Clicking his tongue, he gives a playful roll of his eyes. "Moi? Change my ways? I fear ladies the world over would faint from shock if they heard I was no longer a flirt of some renown." A pleasant warmth seeps into his chest. Severa missed him enough to find him, to ensure he hadn't become a shell of his former self.

The smile playing on his lips doesn't fully blossom, nor does it fully fade.

He allows her the space to say what's truly on her mind, only taking small sips of tea in the silence between words. Her relationship with Auntie Cordelia was always fraught, for reasons he never quite fully understood, and even back then he knew when to let a subject lie.

Our real parents are long gone. Laslow abandons the half-empty tea cup, resting his elbow on the table and pillowing his cheek on his hand. That's why they all left, isn't it? The fate of their other friends remains as of yet unknown, though he holds a suspicion that eventually, they scattered, that feeling of being one step out of synch becoming too much to bear.

"I miss our real lives, too," he admits quietly. The life before he'd ever heard the name Grima, before he knew what it was like to wield a sword in battle.

He holds her gaze. Notes the change there, the return of her mask in place. "Allies new and old have the strangest habit of turning up here. Maybe those we love really are tied to us, like Robin once said. And if they don't turn up, guess that means we've still got some adventures ahead of us, eh?"

Laslow lifts his head, then drains the last of his tea. "Thanks for this, Sel. Come on, I'll show you the training grounds next!"

--------the end

dancing questions and dodging feet

#thread: dancing questions and dodging feet #support: severa #aaaand that's a wrap!! thank you for the thread mar!!

[laslow]

A slight crease draws his brows together. What kind of reputation is he meant to have, exactly? This guy makes it sound like Laslow's a notorious brawler, instead of a charming philanderer!

No wonder Naesala looked so familiar. Still, the knowledge they have something in common--as small as it is--doesn't fully ease Laslow's hesitancy. It's the same feeling as when he's mid-jump and knows he'll land off-balance. Only this time, he can't tell if there's a toe out of place or his entire takeoff was at fault.

"Heh, I admit I'm rather curious to hear about this reputation of mine. Sounds like it's not ladies the world over singing my praises, as I'd hoped." He tilts his head, arms lazily crossing at his chest. Strange, how the normal script has flipped. Do all his friends feel this apprehensive when he asks (begs) them to go into town for the afternoon?

Making a new ally, at the very least, couldn't hurt, nor could dispelling some of these outlandish rumors while he's at it. "That's very kind of you, Naesala! My schedule's clear for the afternoon. What did you have in mind?"

𝗶'𝘃𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝗮 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂.

[FIRST INTERACTION] - Laslow & Naesala.

#thread: i've heard a thing or two about you #support: naesala #these two are so funny together already i love it

[laslow]

[ 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 ] : sender has gotten injured protecting the receiver. (Future timeline Awakening)

For you, I would

The injured cry registers distantly, as if from far away, instead of at his back. Inigo yanks his sword from the dissolving Risen's body, whirling around in time to see Yarne's body on the floor.

"Yarne?" Inigo asks, voice trembling. The other boy remains still. "Yarne!"

Fear grips Inigo's heart, drives him to the floor next to his friend. Some Captain of the Yarnesguard he is; after all that they've endured, every battle and sleepless night, to lose him here, with the end finally in sight--

Blood stains the floor, the knees of his pants. He can't see where Yarne is injured, can't judge the severity without moving him and risking further harm. "Please, buddy, come on, I swear I'll never tease you about hot water again. Just please be okay."

A shaking hand rests atop Yarne's bloody shoulder. The battle rages around them, but Inigo can't spare his attention. For the best, in this instance, for he's sure if he looked away just then, he'd miss the subtle rise and fall underneath his hand.

Relief threatens to bowl him over completely. A few tears slip down his cheeks, but he smiles anyway, because despite all the odds, they are still alive and still fighting. "Thanks for watching my back, Yarne. We'll get you patched up quicker than two flutters of your tail!"

#i'm in fine form today! [asks] #support: yarne #ah. future past timeline [grits my teeth] #if i think about it too much I'll cry LOL #i set this during the final fight against grima instead of during the escape from the bridge for ref #tw: blood #ALSO work posting so if this isn't totally coherent i am so sorry

[laslow]

He thought his days of mercenary work were behind him.

Fódlan was supposed to be a vacation, a glimpse into what life would have been like if not for power-hungry kings and the return of Fell Dragons. Yet here he stands, again involved in another war, another country, pledging a loyalty he's not sure is his to give any longer.

All the emotions he keeps bottled up behind a carefree smile burst forth while he's dancing. Anger becomes a series of leaps, barely landing on his toes before he vaults into the air for another. Grief takes the form of endless spins, pushing past the inevitable dizziness until he almost stumbles into a nearby tree.

But it's the fear--and regret--that urges more, more. Even while he pants for air and raises trembling arms overhead. There's a cramp in his right leg that's making it hard to move but he ignores the dull pain as he prepares for another jump--

Laslow crashes back down to reality. He blinks dumbly at the hand on his chest, right over his thundering heart. All at once he's aware of the fading sunlight, the sweat covering every inch of his skin, the bone-deep soreness that will take days to recover from. (If he's afforded that long.)

Brown eyes drag up the silk-covered arm and finally land on Dorothea's disgruntled face. He can't even summon a smile to ease her fears.

That's the question, isn't it? What can he accomplish in a world not his own, surrounded by people he'll have to say farewell to once this ends?

"I...I'm fine." Exhaustion coats the words. "Just needed...to clear my head." He attempts a step forward, but his muscles shiver violently, and he drops to his knees.

𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 / / [ 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝 ] : sender is expressing anger over receiver's constant recklessness + reverse — au, mini with @laslow

for all its resilience, there is only so much the human body can take.

in battle, quaking limbs endure the onslaught of successive blows. shuddering breaths sustain, and the heart beats on until it can no longer. such extends to the performer — though their self-destruction is a different beast entirely, veiled by pretty smiles and soft fabrics, and their delicate movements betray nothing of the searing pain and exhaustion that looms.

it has been hours now, yet laslow persists all the same. even in the dying light, dorothea notices the way his eyes gleam with a resolute focus, and how his chest heaves with laborious breaths. he is beautiful, captivating even — though all she sees are the faint tremors that overtake his arms and legs.

"laslow. that's enough." despite her intentions, her tone emerges with a harsh edge. a firm hand brings him to a sudden halt, trailing crimson sleeves grazing his skin as displeasure etches across her features. "just what exactly are you hoping to accomplish with this?"

#support: dorothea #mini thread: for you i would #timeskip au #i think i used to have a dedicated au tag but alas #lost to the winds of time #ANYHOW thank u for starting :)

[laslow]

[ 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐦 ] : sender is helping the receiver through a panic attack / severe anxiety. bro what if we were each others rocks during these troubling times

For you, I would

His hands won't stop shaking.

Inigo stares at them as if in a trance, fixated on the staccato rhythm. Battle aftermath is never easy in the best of scenarios; now, after facing near defeat at the claws of a seemingly endless horde of Risen, reality has settled in his chest like a stone.

How can they fight against creatures made from fell magic? How can they possibly avenge their parents when they can't be sure of surviving the next hour?

A band tightens around his ribcage. He can't get a full breath, can't hear past the blood pounding in his ears--

Movement catches in his peripheral. Inigo starts, hands scrabbling for the sword laying discarded in the dirt next to him. Foolish, stupid idea to disappear into the treeline alone. But he needed the space, needed to panic in peace, where no one else could see Inigo the Invincible crumble.

Fingers curl around the blade's hilt, soil gathering underneath his nails. Rising onto his knees, he whirls, weapon half-leveled at the approaching, blurred figure. He doesn't remember starting to cry, but he blinks his tears away regardless, relaxing only fractionally when his vision settles, revealing not another opponent, but Owain.

Inigo's hand spasms, sword dropping unceremoniously back to earth. "H-hey, Owain." His voice cracks and he curls further in on himself, chin touching his chest, shoulders caved.

Of course it's Owain who finds him at his lowest. There's a joke in there somewhere, one Inigo would make in happier circumstances. But right now he can only tremble, and cry, and nearly buckle under the weight of his own fears.

There's a rustle, followed by a sudden presence at his side. Owain's quiet, for once, perhaps feeling some of the same dread coursing through Inigo's veins. A heartbeat passes, then a new weight settles on his shoulders.

Pink head lifts just enough. No trace of mockery lines the other boy's face; instead, his brows are pinched in concern. It's enough of a reassurance that Inigo can feel the crushing despair lighten, breath by breath.

"Thank you, my friend."

#i'm in fine form today! [asks] #WAAAAH THANK YOU FOR SENDING #set it during awakening era teehee :) #support: odin #bro what if our friendship was forged in hellish trauma bro #all actions approved by sara!!

[laslow]

𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝: a little assortment of prompts revolving around painful, bottled up affection and endless yearning, as well as the possible result of finally taking action. remember to tag your dark themes. add +reverse to swap the roles.

[ 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 ] : receiver notices sender looking at them longingly. [ 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 ] : receiver hears sender calling their name while asleep. [ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐭𝐡 ] : sender drapes a coat / cape / etc. around receiver's shoulders. [ 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 ] : receiver is hugging a coat / cape / etc. that belongs to the sender. [ 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐦 ] : sender is helping the receiver through a panic attack / severe anxiety. [ 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 ] : sender takes a hold of receiver's both hands. [ 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 ] : sender and receiver are spooning for comfort and warmth. [ 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 ] : sender and receiver are finally about to kiss, but are interrupted. [ 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 ] : sender and receiver are finally sharing a passionate kiss. [ 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 ] : sender has just found the receiver who's been missing for weeks. [ 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 ] : after being misinformed that the sender has died, receiver is grieving. [ 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝 ] : sender is expressing anger over receiver's constant recklessness. [ 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] : sender is voicing their negative opinion about a person who appears to be close with the receiver. [ 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 ] : sender has just told receiver "you belong to me". [ 𝐰𝐡𝐲 ] : sender has just asked receiver "why don't you love me". [ 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 ] : sender has harmed someone who threatened the receiver. [ 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐦 ] : sender has killed someone who threatened the receiver. [ 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 ] : sender has gotten injured protecting the receiver. [ 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 ] : sender is getting frustrated with their repressed affection and asks receiver to leave them alone. [ 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥 ] : unable to handle their fondness towards receiver, the sender lashes out and they end up in a heated argument. [ 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲 ] : sender is apologising for appearing cold. [ 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 ] : sender is telling receiver they "deserve better than whatever this is".

#ask meme #alright yeah whatever's in the water got laslow too #bc he's a teacher i'll either default to platonic interactions OR an au if specified

[laslow]

✦ 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘: 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖.

—𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞.

Initial Class: Mercenary

Birthday: August 7

Basic Info: Child of a desolate future. After saving his own world, he arrived in Nohr under mysterious circumstances, and quickly earned Prince Xander's trust. Though quite the philanderer outwardly, he's rather shy at heart.

—𝐂 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤.

Likes: Flowers, women, lemon cake w/ chocolate frosting, swords, springtime, sweets, dancing, making others smile

Dislikes:  Bitter tastes, injustice, lances, horses, heights

—𝐁 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤.

Hobbies: Gardening

Talents: dancing, singing

Background: The son of a renowned dancer, Laslow secretly wishes to follow in his mother's footsteps. He's quite talented despite his fear of others finding out. Initially took up the blade to right the wrongs of a fell dragon, and now he fights injustice everywhere.

—𝐀 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤.

Height: 170cm

Ring Size: 8 | Q

Personality: Cheerful and friendly, he can be surprisingly insightful once you get to know him. Loves making everyone around him smile. He does have a flair for dramatics, especially when rejected by a lady. The biggest night owl in the army.

(resources used linked below the cut)

Ally Notebook entries for all playable Engage characters

Ring size chart

Font generator (Math Serif Bold)

Original meme

#headcanons #hey guys did u know i love laslow #thank u for the template ren!! filling things like these out sparks much joy #(once i get around to it lol)

[laslow]

Wow. Gerome, talking to him? Must be his lucky day!

"Aw, is that any way to talk to an old friend? We haven't seen each other in ages and you're bringing up water under the bridge?" Laslow sighs, shaking his head in faux offense. Honestly, as if he'd ask Gerome to be a wingman again. One disastrous outing was quite enough, thank you.

Attention shifts briefly to the box. Frivolous. Yeah, he sure is. But what's wrong with that, really? He's not shirking duties this time, merely spending every saved coin on an outfit for a ball that only comes once a year. "Psh, there is nothing frivolous about this! Next month, the Academy is hosting a ball. I can't go around in anything less than my best, no? Just imagine what the ladies would say if I showed up in rags!"

Still, he hides the box behind his back. Out of sight, out of mind, "You're free of wingman duties, by the way. Wouldn't want your mask to break again!"

That was quite the successful shopping trip, if he says so himself. Nothing wrong with treating himself every so often! There is a ball coming up, after all, and how can he impress the ladies if he's sloppily dressed?

Laslow adjusts the box held in the crook of his arm, careful not to crush it. Fancy clothes are not cheap! (Nor are the new pair of dancing slippers he'd carefully hidden away in the box as well, though that's between him and the shopkeeper.)

Concerned as he is with keeping his purchases safe, he almost misses a familiar face. Well, half a face. Laslow tilts his head, a smile breaking across his features. "If it isn't the Pale Rider himself! Thought you could go into town without your old pal La--Inigo, huh?"

He sidesteps a passing mother and child, coming to a halt before his old friend. Coincidence or fate, he's merely ecstatic yet another member of their odd little family has found their way to Fódlan's shores. "Seriously, how've you been, Gerome?"

Gerome froze inwardly, the widening of his eyes hidden behind his mask, but his mouth remained set in its typical fashion. It seemed the academy was full of more familiar faces than he bargained for. Yet, he was not surprised that his chance encounter with Inigo should be when he's returning from shopping. Some things didn't change and there was a kind of comfort in that.

Rather than ignoring him this time, Gerome inclined his head in greeting. "You look the same as ever." He could take that as a compliment or not, Gerome didn't care.

Instead of answering how he'd been — because, honestly, it wasn't a topic he was interested in sharing — he deflected. "I will not be going anywhere with you. I'd rather not have the headache of being your 'wingman' again. Besides, haven't you whiled away enough of your hours with such frivolous activities?" He gestured toward Inigo's purchases.

#SORRY THIS IS LIKE A MONTH LATE #THE HORRORS #we can turn this into a mini thread if you'd like!!! #support: gerome #i just think. inigo rlly admired gerome (in his own way) and kinda wished he was more like gerome #not to say ini doesn't still admire/respect him! but ini's finally happy with who he is

[laslow]

He tilts the blade and a flash of sunlight hits him square in the eye. Wincing, he lowers the sword, blinking away multicolored after-images. Laslow clears his throat. Hopes the half-asleep students will forget about this by lunchtime, though judging by a faint round of snickering, it's unlikely. Damn.

One brave soul pipes up. Grateful, Laslow waves him down. "Yes, please." He then rubs at his poor eye, waiting for Eliwood to make his way out of his seat. "And your name, lad?"

He looks like an experienced swordsman--lean, built for speed instead of raw power. Metal rings as he resheathes his own blade, making for the rack of training weapons nearby. "Wouldn't do for your regular professor to return and find you full of cuts, eh?"

Laslow grabs two wooden swords, pivoting on his heel and handing one to the other boy. "Alright, let's see what we're working with today."

Honorary Nohrian

#thread: honorary nohrian #support: eliwood #story of lazzy's life. trying to be cool and it backfires smh

[laslow]

They stare at each other a moment, whisps of steam fading in and out of existence between them. Without imminent threat of suffocation, now he can see the strain on the other boy's face, the haunted look that only those with similar pasts recognize.

Laslow sniffs. He understands a jumpy nature from a lifetime of constantly being on alert. His anger fades, though the blow to his pride (and dignity) remains. Even the bold claim--you are right--only slightly lessens the invisible injury.

"Accepted." Laslow clears his throat again, fighting off the lingering discomfort. Oh, great, here comes a sarcastic remark or a disparaging comment on his fighting skills--

Well. That was unexpected. "Aye." Faded tendrils of fear coil through him. You are helped, you do not help. His stomach twinges, skin tightening in remembered pain. Unconsciously, a hand rests atop the faint pink scar above his left hip that he swears wasn't there before.

Breath hitches as he clears the memories. Nails dig slightly into flushed skin, the dull sting enough to drag him fully back to the present. So few spoke about their experiences with outsiders. Finding words that would accurately describe what they'd endured...it often came out weak. Inadequate.

Heaving a sigh, Laslow's shoulders slump. "I don't blame you for being on edge. Especially after recent events." He nearly asks where the other boy landed, if he'd also faced a religious cult. But that feels a step too far right now.

So instead, he offers an olive branch. "I'm Laslow."

Put 'em up, put 'em up!

They say if you go to the sauna completely alone at night, and get the room full of steam, you’ll see your doppelgänger in the mist. If you don’t defeat your doppelganger, or escape before it can catch you, your doppelganger will take your place! Or… Maybe it’s just someone else using the sauna… [Grants Gauntlet +1]

#thread: put 'em up put 'em up #support: raven #reward point: gauntlet

[laslow]

Yikes; there'll be no convincing Pelleas on this one. Which is no matter, really. Neither of them agrees with the other--a pleasant discussion is about all Laslow can ask for.

He's dealt with grim countenances before. (And there will be no miming or pinching of the cheeks involved this time.)

"Not to worry! I know I tend to view the world in a more romantic light." Shoulders bounce in a shrug. "Finding a thread of hope, as you say, in dark times is something of a talent of mine."

Dirt crunches softly underfoot as he steps aside and salutes with two fingers against his forehead. "Leave the moral support with me! Psh, I doubt you'll ruin anything. For all the discussion, it's a legend, no? But if this really has your stomach in knots, we can drop the whole thing."

Dropping his hand to his hip, Laslow tilts his head. "May I offer one last piece of advice? When I find things are difficult, or I'm getting nervous, I smile."

Now he gestures to the flower and the gaggle of gardeners. Even if it's just a regular old flower, it still must bloom, showcase its beauty to the world. And maybe once a petal unfurls, Pelleas will see that spark of hope.

By Any Other Name

#thread: by any other name #support: pelleas #reward point: faith

[laslow]

Bandits are a universal scourge across every time and every continent. Quite the terrible lot, no matter where, taking advantage of hard-working people going about their lives. Hag and Mag are apparently notorious for seizing opportunities when they see it, if the increasingly high rewards on their wanted posters are anything to go by.

Though without bandits, how would the dashing heroes come in and save the day? Earn a kiss as a reward for all their troubles?

Laslow wiggles uncomfortably in his own saddle, far more focused on quelling his sky-high anxiety instead of making idle conversation. He hopes the prince won't think him rude for the silence. Once they're back on solid ground, Laslow will give Dimitri an abridged explanation.

With a lingering, distrustful glance at his horse--a rather docile chestnut beast--he shifts his gaze to Dimitri. Heh, only about three lifetime's worth of experience! Some humor ripples along his features, though it's swiftly replaced by concentration as the gelding shakes his head in an effort to dislodge a fly.

"Ahem. I was a mercenary, in my youth. Fought plenty of brigands and thieves. I wouldn't call them famous...ah!" Nostalgia curls his lips into a tiny smile. "A bandit leader was hanging around a town I was staying in. They were all members of a cult; just unreasonable fellows all around. Anyway. One of them decides to harass a charming lass who would have otherwise gone on a date with me."

He trails off a moment. Did she still think of him fondly? Of the kiss they never shared? (Truly, he hopes she's happy and living a bandit-free life.)

The horse snorts. Shaken from his thoughts, Laslow frowns at its mane. "Where was I? Right, my lovely buttercup. After I slew the rogue intending her harm, all his friends decided to get their revenge. Lady Fate smiled upon me that day, for some allies happened to be passing through and offered me a helping hand."

Perhaps not quite the story Dimitri was looking for, but the Grimleal were infamous for their power and misdeeds.

Duck Season, Wabbit Season

#thread: duck season wabbit season #support: dimitri #AHHH THANK U FOR THE STARTER!! #i reread his paralogue scripts for this and #[said thru tears] ini's so stupid (affectionate)

[laslow]

Were he not a grown, mature man with the title of professor, he'd stick his tongue out at Odin's smug little face. He debates the merits of doing it anyway once the mage scoffs.

Something about this guy just makes him revert to being twelve years old again. Laslow opts to take the high road, studiously tuning out talk of directives and comprehension and--

"It's Indigo!" He retorts, mostly out of reflex than actual irritation. Either epithet always made his heart warm, reminded him he wasn't walking the wide world alone. But there's a time and place to admit such softness. Odin knows the truth, which is why he pushes Laslow's buttons, and why Laslow in turn pushes right back.

His blush gradually lessens, though the people's stares do not. So long as he imagines them staring at Odin instead of him, he can largely ignore the crowd. Attention slides over, embarrassment forgotten. How long had he been here? His break and subsequent detour into Nohr notwithstanding, it had to be approaching a handful of years all told.

The bright-eyed young man who walked through those gates so long ago was not the same person striding across them now. Brows pucker in thought. "A few years, certainly. I came here before going to Nohr, actually."

He trails off a particularly stunning lady walks by, brown hair falling in lovely curls around her shoulders. She's laughing at something her companion said, and he finds he's disappointed by the sound. He misses someone else's lyrical voice far more.

Shaking himself, he turns his gaze skyward. "There's a distinct lack of dragons asking me--us--to save this world, so it's not terrible here." Lips curl into a smile. "Never thought I'd end up a professor. What about you, Owain? What have you observed about Fodlan so far?"

good thing we're not lactose intolerant!

( FRACTURE, riding +1 )

#thread: good thing we're not lactose intolerant #support: odin #CLUTCHES THEM IN MY FIST. I LOVE THEM SMSMSMSMSMS

[laslow]

He waves goodbye to the Serios Knight, tilting his head as movement catches the corner of his eye. The winged man looks vaguely familiar; another faculty member, he thinks.

Shoulders straighten under sharp, black-eyed scrutiny. Yikes, did he flirt with this guy's sister? Nah. He'd definitely remember trying to charm a lady with wings.

Lips curl into a smile, and he flourishes an arm across his chest, bending at the waist. "Professor Laslow, at your service." He does not mention it's usually his heart doing all the breaking.

Once back upright, he regards Naesala with a small trace of wariness. "And you are? Not here to warn me away from some lady love of yours with your fists, I hope." Not a glowing endorsement of his supposed reputation, but he's been threatened one too many times before.

He gives an awkward laugh. "Heh, just a joke! What can I do for you today?"

𝗶'𝘃𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝗮 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂.

[FIRST INTERACTION] - Laslow & Naesala.

#thread: i think i know of you #support: naesala #thank you for the starter arden!!! :heart_hands: #SO happy for these two to interact #[head in hands] sorry laslow is.....laslow #if you need more to work with pls lmk!

[laslow]

Teeth bite down on his tongue to prevent another laugh from escaping. If she wants to yell at him, so be it. He was being honest despite his candy-coated phrasing--a crutch he falls back on as much as she does her anger.

He does not take her harsh words personally; there's hardly any bite behind them, anyway.

Instead of replying, he downs another mouthful of tea, taking a compliment about her lovely blush complimenting her hair with it. Something plays behind her eyes, in the edges of her frown, and he'd risk asking what she's thinking about if he didn't know better. Feelings, undoubtedly, as she's always sharper when hiding her heart behind thorns. Years ago, he often took that cold exterior at face value. Now he can see through the layers of ice into the girl beneath.

Victory surges through him once he catches the smile winning out over her ordinarily stern

"Always," he replies, softly. "Both of them."

She's one of only twelve other people who understand the feeling of holding two homes in his head. "I wonder what my parents are up to. If the snow's beginning to melt yet. How Ylisse and Plegia are getting along." He runs a fingertip along the rim of his teacup in thought.

In the back of his mind, he prays that any remaining ghosts roaming the ash-torn wasteland of their original home have finally found rest.

"Writing letters helps. I do want to visit, though. See all our friends." A wistful sigh escapes, sending ripples across the tea. "What brought this on, Sev? If you don't shut me up now I'll start crying."

dancing questions and dodging feet

#thread: dancing questions and dodging feet #support: severa #i do not mind the pingpong at all!!! #were i a bit faster this past month............... #thank u for your patience! #he can talk about home for HOURS #ALSO work posting no trim rights :pensive:

[laslow]

Psst~ Hey, Odin. Any chance we can put our heads together to prank Lord Leo or Lord Chrom?

girl you literally just tomato'd me

#toaaprilfools #support: odin #support: severa #laslow did not. in fact. flirt their way out of the bill :sob:

[laslow]

"I'm here to revoke your license. It's illegal to be driving everyone crazy the way you are." did it work lsalow? was that a successful pick up line?

"........"

"..................."

"You totally butchered the delivery on that one, my friend."

#support: odin #toaaprilfools #laslow internally: note to self. don't talk odin out as a wingman all the ladies will flock to him.