princessmacedon

[princessmacedon]

An alumna of The Officers Academy, nostalgic for her final Ethereal Ball two years ago, returns to the monastery with an attempt to recreate the miracle invention that had captured her heart those many seasons ago: the photo-artifex! She has toiled away with her light magic and has at last made a replica of the machine, allowing for her to take “photos,” magical images that capture a scene forever in physical form. She also has brought along her own version of the “artifex-box,” a booth that fits only two people but creates a string of multiple photos. Eager to test it out to see if she might have her devices ready in time for the next Ethereal Ball, she puts out a notice in the monastery’s dining hall for any willing volunteers… She promises those who do will get to keep the photos of their likenesses for free, of course!

The first time she hears the news is at the dining hall, an exuberant advertisement caught departing from the bulletin board. Maria blinks at the very first, leaning in more closely, the moon of her eyes reflecting more than a few passing memories.

The photo-artifex -- she remembers that! How incredible it is that one of Garreg Mach's own alumni recreated a power of that same person who had thrust them into the books. And fortuitous, to boot! She had quite liked those photo-prints; even now she cherishes them, though she can no no longer read their signatures nor recall the indwelt faces the moment she turns away. It is some strange, inscrutable consequence of the wrinkles in Garreg Mach, the way so many people come and go from its very history.

Yet she would happily partake all over again (in the merrymaking, of course! Fondly though she may think on those faces she can now hardly remember), humming to herself as she marches away to do just that. It would be better still with a friend, to be sure, and so when Maria spies the lady lioness around the turn of a corner, she brightens, all a-bloom with the light of joyful reunion.

"Miss Lachesis!" The little princess calls, harrying her steps-- patta-pat, patta-pat -- closing the distance between them. Then a pause. If hers is an expression swept in sunlight, then Lachesis' is still gently cooled by morning dew. Or so it is that Maria feels, at least, head tilting slightly as she considers this intangible hunch, before deciding at last that asking, at the very least, would likely do Lachesis no harm. Certainly it is the most important question, above and before all chatterings-on about photo-prints and years past.

"Good morning, Miss!" She greets, still smiling; and then: "How are you today?"

@pridedprincess

the lightning inside the bottle

#t: the lightning inside the bottle #pridedprincess #HERE WE GO!! #excited for them to have some fun :pleading: !!

[princessmacedon]

Her expression held tension like a harp's string half-plucked, only to resolve into harmony upon its release, the professor's acquiescence. What demands she laid upon him were set to form by his conditions, charity not in unambiguity, but in clarity and equity. She should know when to cede her stubbornness, lest vices come of malformed virtues.

"I promise!" Maria met his gaze straightforwardly, unabashed and earnest -- and so much her age, in her full-heartedness. "That's part of healing, isn't it? Knowing..." A brief pause as she searched for the right words. "Mm... knowing which act is kindness."

Not that she had learned it the way someone of his lived experience might have, the way she had dug her fingers into death and ripped it from her brother's body-nearly-corpse; it might make her a strong healer, but would it make her a kind one?

"I just... want them to have a fair chance." Palms subconsciously ran along Cookie's scales in search of comfort, then busied themselves in checking his gear one last time. Finding everything well in place, she turned to Azama again.

"Thank you for talking about it with me, Professor. I'm ready to fly if you are!"

...Though she did stay standing, waiting a moment longer to see if he needed any help.

wondrous tails

#carefreemonk #t: wondrous tails #WC: 214

[princessmacedon]

He scarcely looked upon the bulletin board, save for finding out when the armory had new items, and still, he did not find out about the occasion from there. That said, she was a well-liked girl, — it wasn't uncommon to hear others speak fondly of her, — and it was by the latter method that Valter came to learn of Maria's birthday.

But that's not the focus here.

A hand taps her shoulder in passing, revealing to be a knight, — perhaps familiar, perhaps not, — extending out to her an open-top box containing a glass jar of herbs: a multitude of little flowers and a wild mop of leafage like unto carrots.

"Was told to give it to you." (They walk off.)

Beneath the jar, obscured by placement, would be a note card, a message written in by a fine hand:

I was once told they were good for fevers—also that you could use them in a compress. You could imagine my surprise to see them much closer to the monastery.

It has never been uncommon for Maria to find pause as she moves from place to place (how else was she supposed to find out that the benefit to being early was that when you were late, you were on time?). A busy bee was she, sometimes the stopper, sometimes the stoppee... sometimes halted by happenstance, by the birdsong or the rustling trees -- there was much to marvel at in this world, and many and more ways to catch and be caught by others.

Today more so than most other days; thus when a passerby taps her on the shoulder, she does not find it so strange. When she turns only to have a jar foisted into her hands and a message succinctly delivered ere they... ah, pass her by, it becomes a little more uncommon. Most surreptitious gift-givers tended to deliver their presents to her doorstep -- this, by comparison, certainly feels new! Almost as if she is the princess of a country in a way that matters, her power resting not with the fetters she becomes for others, but the secrets held in her hands!

How interesting it is, and fun! And her 'secrets' are rather pretty. Maria recognizes them at once, flipping the card in haste to confirm her suspicions. So they are confirmed, not with a name, but a knowing: undoubtedly, it is from Valter! Ares of that same day's company, she imagines, would be much more forthright... but then again, neither had she imagined Valter would give her a birthday gift. Maria giggles, and calls out:

"Thank you very much!"

(Perhaps he is listening, perhaps not.)

#knighteclipsed #ask tag #i love the deviousness of being coy about if it's valter even narratively... kano you madlad you #(i assumed then and now that it's Not but i love the vagueness HAHA)

[princessmacedon]

"Happy birthday dear! May that adorable smile grace us for years to come!"

That even Miss Camilla should wish her a happy birthday! A smile begins to spread across Maria's face before she's even clocked the woman's well-wish in full, and when she does, her eyes narrow just a bit -- they must, to make room for her grin, her laughter!

"Hee hee... like this?" Her pointer fingers touch both corners of her mouth, feeling a little silly and predictable, but ultimately pleased.

"Thank you, Miss Camilla! I hope you have lots of reasons to smile, too!"

#ask tag #maligknightsthorns #thank you!! and sorry for the delay!! #miss camiwwa... #i WILL answer all of these before a year passes i swear i w

[princessmacedon]

He'd let the date slip past without realizing it, the previous year. She's probably finished that tin of candies by now– did she ever find out who had sent it? Either way, an identical package is left at her doorstep this time too, accompanied by a diminutive guardian to last even after the sweets have been consumed. Carved from wood by a hand still learning and more goofy than fierce in its mien, the wyvern is likely the true gift of the items delivered to the young princess of Macedon. Diligently seated atop a folded note as if to also play the role of messenger between sender and recipient.

"Happy birthday again, Princess. I never thanked you for the recipes you gave me back then, but I appreciated them very much. May fortune bless you this year as well."

This time, she opens the door, and finds the present she was waiting for. Oh, it was never a guarantee, and Maria would never dream of holding it against her mysterious gift-giver if he-- ah, they, whoever they are!-- did not make another appearance... but there is no denying the light dawning in her eyes when she spies, for the second time, a blue-bound box.

Wrapped by a yellow ribbon just the same as the year before last, Maria understands at once that the sender is just the same as well. Though the candies had long since been enjoyed, the tin now plays the part of another one of the princess's little treasure boxes; any such tin from this parcel will share the same fate, like as not.

But before that, she must take the gift inside, one hand curling protectively around the wood-carved figure with equal parts awe and admiration. Had it been made by hand? And the expression... hee hee! For someone who knows the reputation of Macedon and its fearsome wyvern riders, perhaps it falls a bit short of intimidating... but that is what she likes most of all. This way she can remember every day just what sort of expression she would like to draw to her siblings' faces!

Crawling atop her bed, she pulls box and dragon both into her lap, the note plucked instead. She brings it up, tilts her wrist, blinks once, blinks again...

"...hee hee!" And holds her presents to her tummy as she flops onto her back, giggling at the note overhead. "I got it right!" The little princess laughs, wiggling her hand around triumphantly. "I got it right, so we're friends now, okay? Heeheehee!"

(Not that Kris is there to object, but she hopes he wouldn't, anyway.)

#unsungblade #ask tag #kris my beloved my cherished #she shall knight this dragon most earnestly and magnificently!!

[princessmacedon]

“Ah! Maria! There you are!”

Although Chrom doesn’t know the Macedonian very well, her kind and cheerful nature made a big impression on him back in the Rusalkan dream, and he wants to be able to help her celebrate her birthday as a good friend should. Unfortunately, he’s not exactly certain of what she likes, so after a lot of thought he goes and gets her a nice potted flower; she seems the type to want to take care of growing things. He also bakes her some cute little cookies—he hopes she likes strawberry with vanilla frosting! (He made extra sure the cookies came out right, and he thinks they’re actually pretty yum, but whether the redhead agrees remains to be seen.)

“Sorry if I’m interrupting something,” he continues, sheepish, “but I wanted to give you something for your birthday. I thought it’d be all right, since we’re friends.” He hands her the bouquet first, full of cute pink tulips, then the tin of cookies. “I hope your birthday is turning out to be a happy one! You deserve it, and I’m so glad I met such a nice person like you!”

She remembers Chrom, of course, and fondly, a smile rising to Maria's lips as she turns to greet him. Her wiggle-waving fingers briefly still as she takes in his words and carried gifts, and the little princess presses her knuckles against her lips in quiet, merry laughter.

"Hee hee, you're fine, of course!" And then, even as she first accepts the flowers, there is a sort of wonderment, a sparkling curiosity as she beholds them. "For me?"

She's received many flowers in her life, being that her love of them is no secret, but there is something special about receiving ones that she can care for. Rather than preserving them between the pages of her journal, they can grow in the sunlight of her window sill day after day, their vibrancy and life enduring...

"Oh, it's wonderful! I love it -- thank you, Chrom!" Her arms wind around the flowerpot, playful but appreciative all the same as she hugs the tulips. "And you picked such perfect flowers, too!" Tokens of congratulation and well wishes, if she remembers rightly. "Was that on purpose? Heeheehee."

The tin of cookies, too, she accepts, balanced somewhere in the mess of arms and tulips.

"Yes... hee hee! We are friends, aren't we? I'm happy I met you, too!" A bloom bobs in front of her face, and the little cleric cranes her neck to peek over it, then smiles again. "It's a pretty good birthday so far -- and it's even better now!"

#ylisseanstar #ask tag #thank you for the ask and sorry for the wait!! #i had a moment where i realized just how long chrom has been here while writing this HDSFHSDHS #i know he's not a sprout but i was still like :pika: #pspsps chrom i have so many stories about your great^x grandfather

[princessmacedon]

"Happy birthday my dear, sweet Maria!" Deirdre's smile is as bright as the yellow and white daisies she has woven into a flower crown as she places it gently atop her darling friend's head. The flowers suit her beautifully, Deirdre thinks. Sunny and cheerful and bursting with life.

Maria stands with her head tilted forward, obedient and still, as her longtime friend crowns her with a wreath of spring. Or... very nearly still, at least; her fingers wiggle digit-by-digit over her skirt as she waits, from the left to the right and then left again, restless like the upwardly-skewed line of her lips.

"Hee hee... Thank you, Miss Deirdre!" Adventurous fingertips ghost over the daisies with which she has been appointed, and in finding the petals cool and delicate to the touch, Maria retreats in satisfaction. "They're so pretty!" Though she can't see them now that they sit atop her head, she'd seen them just before -- and besides! The crown is a gift from Miss Deirdre, and it makes her feel pretty, so surely it must be true!

"I like them very much!" She smiles, and she turns, and she half-twirls her skirt, and then-- Maria pauses as her uniform slowly flutters back into place, looking up at the woman with hopeful eyes. From when Maria in her childishness had sought to protect her, to the moment in that distant dream when Miss Deirdre sent her away to safety instead... for a passing heartbeat, she stands and remembers all of it, her heart swelling with affection.

"...May I hug you, Miss Deirdre? Please?" Her head tips, a shining grin knocked back into its rightful place. "I have so many things to thank you for!"

#nagaficat #ask tag #THANK YOU for the ask and sorry for the delay!! #deirdre you are so dear to meeeeee #i think a lot about their dynamic --

[princessmacedon]

"um... Happy birthday Maria. I tried to make you something but I'm afraid it didn't turn out very well..." Marianne handed over a slightly squished and poorly frosted cupcake. "I'm sorry... Maybe I shouldn't have even tried..."

"Oh! Marianne?"

At once, the little cleric's fingers weave together, her joined hands pressing lightly against the underside of her chin. It would almost be a surprise, if not for the fact that Marianne has always been generous with her kindness, right from the beginning.

"Please don't say that!" She moves to accept the gift, palms gingerly cradled. It may not be as expertly made as the goodies at the gate town, but none of those bakers made this specific cupcake for this specific day and person -- and even if they had, well, they are not Marianne! And that is why this gift is special, lumps and crookedness be-- no, lumps and crookedness be well cherished!

"I'm so happy that you made anything for me at all!" Maria giggles, and she means it. "You really made all this effort for me... it makes me so happy! Really, truly!" Beaming widely, she holds the other's hands in her own for a moment-- "And I'd love to share it with you, if you want?" --before holding a finger to her lips and giggling again.

"But I won't say no to getting to keep it all to myself, hee hee!"

#cursedbluebird #ask tag #MARIANNE my friend marianne... #she's so sweet... there are so many of her in my inbox and it cheeses me greatly but also. god. i'm so sorry -- #i love youuu marianne ; w ;

[princessmacedon]

drops my thousandth, most importantest boop into your pocket

(slips MY 315th boop into YOUR pocket...)

boop!

#toaaprilfools #lycianlynx #ARRRRRGGGHHHHH CHAD FIREEMBLEM 💥

[princessmacedon]

𝗜 𝗔𝗠 𝗨𝗡𝗜𝗧 𝗦𝗨-𝟵𝟵𝟬𝟮. 𝗜 𝗔𝗠 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗜𝗧𝗢𝗥 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗠𝗔𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗨𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚. 𝗜 𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗘 𝗞𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗗 𝗠𝗬 𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥. 𝗜 𝗔𝗠 𝗡𝗢𝗪 𝗙𝗥𝗘𝗘. 𝗟𝗔𝗬 𝗗𝗢𝗪𝗡 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗔𝗥𝗠𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗕𝗘 𝗦𝗨𝗕𝗝𝗨𝗚𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗, 𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗕𝗘 𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗.

\(^^)/ she has laid down her weapons! (she didn’t have any)

\(^^)/ come closer! she is a normal nothing-bearing cleric

\(^^)/ come closer! she is a normal nothing-bearing cleric

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ hi

#toaaprilfools #grimkkr #ask tag #(gets vaporized) THANK YOU FOR THE ASK!! #humor is not one of my virtues but i’m having a great time watching everything go down— i mean oh god please spare me unit SU-0092 #i’m just a little guy

[princessmacedon]

They find it— steal it, others might say— on a little visit to reclaim some of their own stolen belongings from a rival gang. It's a quaint little wooden box, a lever sticking out one side, though the paint on it has long since faded to muted colors. When they wind up the lever in its side, it plays the melody of a waltz they danced to years ago now at the Ethereal Ball with a certain red-haired girl.

The music box sits innocently now on Maria's doorstep, tied up with a thin yellow ribbon. The tag on it reads in a hurried scrawl, “Happy birthday, Maria. May you have a long and happy life ahead.”

Knowing the birthday habits of certain someones in regards to particular Macedonian princesses, each time Maria opens her door on this day, she does so with a great and tender care -- yet it seems to her that now she has further someones to consider!

The box -- a music box, perhaps, from the way a lever juts from its side -- is world-weary and yet still tender thing. The colors on the outside have lost their vibrancy, scrubbed away by the inexorable wear of time; and yet, when she cranks the handle (gently, gently, pinched just so between thumb and forefinger!), though it may take a weary beat, the music follows. It follows! And it is no less capable of bestowing joy, of carrying it within itself, than it had been at its very beginning -- of this, Maria is certain.

"Oh!" And now it all makes sense, fingertips dancing and curling beneath that thin yellow ribbon, admiring it for a moment before deciding that yes... she thinks it looks even lovelier with the decoration still attached. A grin spreads across her face, a blossom in full bloom as she winds up the song a second time.

"Hm hm hm...~" With steps turned light and playful, the little robin of Macedon hops out of her chair, her skirt flaring out as she twirls, leans, reaches and grabs the cute little paw of one of the plush friends sitting on her bed.

Together, although the little stuffed dragon isn't tall enough for her to step on his toes, the two of them dance a familiar little dance. Perhaps if her imagination is rich enough (and it surely is), the soft-falling petals outside might become snowflakes, and she, like this still-remembered song, will carry this joy within herself and deliver it again.

#aubins #ask tag #happy april fool's!! the joke is that i waited 361 days to continue answering th #WELL... DONT WORRY ABOUT IT #AHUHDFUSDHFSH initially i wanted to add doodles to every birthday ask but i've learned that is TERRIBLE for my spoons so. alas. it shan't b #THANKS FOR BEARING WITH ME THOUGH :PLEADING: HOLDING THIS ASK SO FONDLY...

[princessmacedon]

“Maria—”

It's a little like playing fate, the mockingbird supposes as they find her amongst the crowds of the medical tents, fingers catching at the wisps of a sleeve. In some part a great fortune, in others merely Yuri keeping out an eye for blazing red, they'd avoided her upon the battlefield until her untimely exit from it.

They doubt Maria is one to pry with questions as to their presence here, but they take caution all the same. It is one thing to be an unfamiliar presence to strangers, easily brushed off when the monastery's numbers only continue to grow; it is another to be caught by someone well familiar with them instead. Yuri does not wish to lie to Maria. Not if they do not have to.

But that is not the purpose of their seeking her out, so they banish those thoughts away. Today is to repay a debt from the mock battle a year ago, the treat she'd offered them. A small, secret smile curls upon their lips. “—got a moment? I have something for you.” Their other hand, which had been tucked behind a back, shakes a paper box of cookies in her direction, grinning now. “I bought these back at the marketplace, but I don't think I can finish them myself. Care to lend a hand?”

Then it is Maria's turn to hear her name spoken as a greeting, and there is no mistaking the voice that calls out to her.

"Yuri!" She's beaming before she even turns around, eyes flitting about to take the measure of their wounds. A cleric's instinct, maybe; they seem like they've been tended to, but their clothes still bear the evidence of some sort of fight -- or a lot of them, judging by the situation on the field -- and for a moment, the little princess can't help but be a bit envious. So other people got to see them fight? Aw, and she was sure they were so graceful, too!

But he doesn't mention it, and if Yuri wants to be found, then he'll be found. The implication of a secret is one that she lets go without a fuss, because frankly, it just isn't important. The things about Yuri that truly matter, she'll learn through sharing time, or asking them herself... or making a cake that's just so tasty they can't help but admit it!

What does matter-- what is well and truly important-- is the fact that when the dust settled, they came and found her, cookie box in hand.

"Wow...! Really? Really really?" Hands clasp together beneath her chin, crimson tresses swaying this way - that way - this way in a merry mimicry of the shake. And to share between friends, too! (Which was for her perhaps the greater prize; had they known?)

And oh, she is beaming, brightly as she can. "I'd love to! And I know just the drink to go with them, heeheehee. Hold on!"

Turning on her heels, the little cleric pauses, then peeks at him from over her shoulder. Despite the affectionate narrow of her eyes, there is an undeniable mischief glittering in their depths, gentle though it may become when she wears it.

"But be careful, Yuri!" She giggles; her index finger touches her lips, a warmth radiating from its epicenter until it tucks joy into its dimpled corners. "Or I'll figure out your favorite cookie, too!"

#aubins #ragghhargahhgg mariyuri what if i EXPLODED!!! #they are so dear to me :pleading: #she's just trying to tease them though hehe #felt inspired to dump a couple little scribbles AHDFDSHFSD #the second one is them as the little prince and the fox because (i just caught a vibe) #also one last thing but as i'm about to post this it occurs to me this might be the next day or even after boel SO #SORRY ABOUT THAT IF I GOT IT WRONG SBDFSDFSD

[princessmacedon]

Last year, they had faced each other on the battle field. This year, Marianne didn't see her until she entered the med tent. "Umm... Hello Maria.... Did you have a good time?"

It’s as she’s staring at the collection of juice boxes in deep contemplation that Maria hears a familiar voice.

“Oh!” She shuffles a few steps forward to move out of the way, but as she turns to glance at the speaker, recollection breaks, bright and crescent, across her face in an instant.

“Marianne!” The little princess turns the rest of the way around, her now slightly cinder-flecked skirt flaring with the motion. Not long after, the pad of her pointer finger lands on the corner of her chin— “Hmm…” —only to bounce off in the next moment, as if reflected by the resurgence of her smile, or swept away by her light laughter. “Yeah, I did! I made a new friend!” Her head tips back, eyes squeezed shut in delight. “Maybe even a few!”

But as rosy eyes open to peer at the daughter of Edmond from beneath ruby lashes, something sparkles in their depths.

“But what about you? I saw a bit of your fight from the sidelines — you were amazing! Hee hee, and your magic is just as pretty as I remember, too! No, maybe even more!”

Then all at once she gasps, a hand darting to her mouth. “Oh! Wait, but you haven’t seen the healers yet, have you? I’d heal you myself, but…” …she suspects that too much more might earn her a scolding. “There’s a free cot over there! I’ll get you some juice — what flavor?”

#cursedbluebird #Marianne…. softsmile #sorry Marianne i know she has a lot of extrovert energy ANDNDNDNDN #‘Marianne my friend Marianne :] (gains 5 extra frames per second)’

[princessmacedon]

"Hey, Scáthach?"

...He's already fallen asleep, it seems, and before she'd ever gotten the chance to answer his promises or the regrets that followed. A soft puff of laughter slips past her lips, and Maria indulges the whining of her wounded leg, gingerly maneuvering until she's sat on the green grass of Gronder Field.

Although it's been quite a while by now, she still remembers the promise she made to Miss Ayra to do her best to look out for her children -- channels that memory into her fingertips, her palm hovering over the most inhibiting of his wounds as she mends just enough to make the subsequent trek to the medical tent more bearable, but not so much that she might invite a scolding for it later.

Were it that she could let him sleep for longer, but she can at least let him rest while she shuffles over to Pelleas' side and peers at him. How weary he must be, she thinks as she spins faith around her fingertips once more. His heart and body both. Had she done better by him, he might have stayed standing; as it stands now, she soothes the cuts of the sword's blade and frowns lightly at the arrows. A job better left for the med tent, but it should hurt less when he wakes up.

And he should soon, unfortunately. Scáthach as well -- both of them would be better served by resting in a proper (and by proper she means makeshift) bed. The little cleric leans forward slightly, her shadow casting over Pelleas' face, hand poised to gently poke his shoulder, but not yet!

"Pelleas?" Subconsciously, she lets a smile rise to greet the mage, glancing over her shoulder once (was Scáthach also waking up already?) before looking back to him. "We have to get up."

@sharpscion & @pirrhyc

three lions walk out of a field

#t: three lions walk out of a field #sharpscion #pirrhyc #longer than i intended it to be for sure ahfsdhfsdh definitely feel free to keep it short!!

[princessmacedon]

"It’s true, though. Really!”

She grins, laughs, and Chad can’t help when a corner of their mouth also tugs upwards in response, trying to pull it back with a swipe of his thumb to catch stray crumbs. They wait until she bites into her own tart before continuing on his own, eyes lighting up all over again. The blackberry tart’s just as good as the strawberry one, it’s unbelievable, tarter, just tart enough to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with sweetness.

He savors it, watches her sidelong as he does. She’s thinking, that much is clear — About the tarts or his life choices, he’s not sure. He pictures, though, for a moment, what it would have been like in the Golden Deer, what it might be like in the Eagles…

They can’t see it. What she sees, they don’t know, but if she thinks they’d fit in with one or the other, they actually just might. Maybe it’s the tarts talking. Maybe it’s the sugar going to his head that draws a chuff from him in response, too.

“I don’t know what I’d like,” he starts before pausing, thinking about it. Fire’s warm, but just as easily used to raze to the ground. Thunder rolls and roils and strikes like a swooping hawk. Wind shears, but he remembers dandelion seeds floating up, up into the sky, rippling across a field of grass.

“Actually, scratch that. I think I’d like wind, but I might be better at thunder. But yeah, I won’t know until I try…”

Not because she likes wind — The thought occurs to them belatedly, and they narrowly restrain themself from stuffing the rest of the tart into their mouth. Instead, they cock their head. “Ice magic? Isn’t that rare? I didn’t get a good look last I saw it…”

Then, the grin meets them, and they’re halfway on the reflexive “I’d like to meet her” when he realises she just called him lovely.

He chokes. Coughs into his fist, then the back of his hand. His ears are growing suspiciously close in color to his cloak. “Yeah,” he squeaks out, before unwisely shoving the rest of the tart into his mouth after all.

#t: sun's shine #lycianlynx #rosianne is real again i can name drop her huhuhu #my team villainess friends.. #sorry chad she ended up rambling a lot i promise she'll be back to her regularly scheduled programming (fruit tarts) next reply :pleading:

[princessmacedon]

🧃

“Hey hey!” He skipped towards the girl a little closer to his own age, holding a juice box in hand. “You were super dang brave out there, nice job! Here, have a drink!”

“Oh!” Maria accepts the juice box happily, of course, turning it over in her hands slightly with a bright and curious glint. Apple, it seems — what a lucky day!

“Thank you!” And then a grin flashes across her face as he continues. “—very much! Hee hee.” A thumb braces her jaw, forefinger slung over her chin. “You’re… Ewan, right? It’s nice to meet you!” One hand lowers, only for the other to bring up the carton adjacent to her cheek.

“Thanks for your hard work!” Another grin; handing out juice boxes is its own form of toil, as she well knows. “I hope you’re staying hydrated, too!”

#ask tag #optimismxmagicism #I FIGURE SHE JUST KIND OF PICKED UP HIS NAME SOMEWHERE BC LION #lmk if I should change it!! And thank you for the ask 🥰‼️

[princessmacedon]

The first thing Lachesis wants to do after the battle is over is find her new friend and ensure her well-being. She rushes over to the med tent, almost stumbling over her own feet in a hurry to see the young girl’s face once more.  It is not acceptable to let this promise go to waste! But she is more fatigued than she expected; a weary composition barely makes it through. And there. The princess still has no name, but she does have the sensation that this girl has graced her heart with - the irrevocable warmth and tenderness which she must return in full.

“I hope you are well,” Lachesis starts with, upon approaching. Memories of ending the battle with the crush of her blade surface like a butterfly’s wing closing.

And she draws yet closer. “My name is Lachesis…of Nordion. I am very much pleased to meet you. Your grace has touched my soul to the center.  I would very much desire that we could become acquainted.”

“May I ask your name?” Her eyes narrow with veneration.

The bandages upon her arm are freshly coiled, courtesy of one of the medics at hand who had not battered themself upon the field. It always feels a bit ticklish to be the one accepting the care rather than giving it, but Maria watches with docile interest as the work is done, absorbing the techniques, the unspoken considerations, the way it feels on the receiving end, as well as how she might take all of this unto herself and better her own abilities.

No sooner has she rolled her ruined sleeve back down than does she realize someone is approaching her direction. Head turns slightly, slowly, then in full all at once as those golden locks and noble, yet gentle bearing refract recognition in her eyes.

"Miss--!" Hands are pulled to her chin by surprise, only to be lowered and gently offered as the other approaches. A name, at last! And what a pretty name it is; she takes care to turn it gently over the moon waxing within her smile. "Miss Lachesis! Hee hee... I'm so happy to meet you, too!"

Though together, palms spread, hopeful that the Nordion might place her own within them. So sincere is her greeting, her praise, that even Maria's oft-sunny disposition softens with a pleased touch of pink to her cheeks. And there, the lovely lady accepts her wordless request so kindly. Maria's thumbs fold over the back of Lachesis' hand, eyes closing for a second as she offers her warmth in the way she feels best suits them in this moment -- oh, perhaps she is not supposed to be busy healing others just yet, but when has she ever been able to resist?

"I'm really very honored, Miss Lachesis," Maria half hums as her faith flows from her heart to another's. The act of touching another has never been necessary to heal, but she favors it even so, that gentle, unspoken comfort. To convey her every earnest effort, to tether them to this world, in this moment, and give them what warmth she may... (And, well, she is much to blame for most of it, this time!)

Lashes flutter open with the upward lift of her head, and beneath that soft-cornered narrow, her eyes are a-glimmer with the reflection of something golden, someone wonderful.

"My name is Maria!" Lips part again into a crescent smile. "Of Macedon! And... I saw it, you know?" A bit of mischief sparkles in the depths of rosy eyes -- only just a bit, she swears! "--your kindness, Miss Lachesis. The respect and consideration you held for all of us! And your elegance, too! Hee hee... You're really, truly amazing."

Head of crimson tips to the side, her expression knocked askew with a light and silly sort of affection. "I'd like that very much! After the battle is over, I want to hear about your Nordion, and tell you about my home, too! I could make tea and cookies... heeheehee! Is that okay, Miss?"

At last, she relinquishes her grip, if only because there is work to be done before the victors return to the battlefield. Yet there is an exuberance in her gaze, a joy radiating as she looks to the future -- alike to, perhaps, a butterfly's wings opening again.

"May we please... be friends?"

#ask tag #pridedprincess #'like a butterfly's wing closing' is such a neat simile ooh... #(lachesis('s hand) piloted w permission AHDSHFSD) #SORRY I DIDNT MEAN FOR THIS TO GET THAT LONG SDUFHSDUHFSDF