[PROBABLY AFTER TEAM THORON MORONS... after felix comes back on his 100th day of murdering skeletons,
Marianne is There!! Well, technically, she is at the Temple, feeling anxious and strained and 100% ready for this fight to be over, while also aware that her condition is nothing in comparison to those who've been diligently fighting every night... like... Felix... Felix is... She knows he's a soldier, obviously -- they trained at the same Academy -- but it's one thing to hear about it and then see it in action. It's not that Marianne thinks he's about to drop dead from exhaustion or that he's even particularly reckless. She's just used to seeing her comrades fight and fight and then suddenly lose steam, and it would be terrible if Felix ended up the same way.
He's too fast and strong for her to try and tag along every time he goes out too, she can't be of help if she forces him to take care of her. Which is why, now that she hears him back in his room, she musters up enough courage to run to his door and knock...! Speed is key here, who knows when Felix will leave... AGAIN??]
Um, Felix! It's me, Marianne. I'm coming in...!
[none of that 'may I come in' etiquette that Marianne normally always uses, she's too worried to remember her manners as she PUSHES that door open!!! first aid kit in one hand and... if Felix looks down, Liam at her ankles.]
[Fighting wave after wave of enemies, night after night after night, is a good test of Felix's endurance—but he's only human? He knows this, just like he knows that he can only spend so many days catching a wink of sleep here and a wink of sleep there before he becomes more of a burden than an asset. Actual rest... is an unfortunate necessity; it's why, after rushing through a hot meal, Felix finally, reluctantly makes his way to his room. He'd rather be reinforcing defenses, or collecting more information...
...Nah, though. Nah. Felix is ultimately sensible—and, you know, more than a bit battered by this point in time; like, every muscle in his body feels so sore, so stiff, that he's struggling to remove his coat—seriously, why does it have so many god damn buckles—when he hears that familiar, timid voice. Ah. Well. Maybe if he ignores this call, she'll go away... except NOT, because as he, like, half-turns around just in time to see that door open—oh, hello, Marianne. ...And Liam, who trots right inside like he owns the place. Is that a bed? That's his bed now...
But while Felix would love nothing more than to be alone right now, he’s too Tired to do anything more than halfheartedly glare... and snort, incredulously, before:]
At least you knocked.
[And with the way he snaps that, he’s obviously a) being snide and b) less than pleased—but, well? What’s this obviously very important matter, Weird Girl? Explain yourself and/or GO!! But also, feel free to notice... that nice bruise high on one cheekbone, because guess who got SMACKED...]
[ She's not... fond of exercise and strenuous activity, not like Dimitri and Felix, who practically thrived off of it like plants drawing their nourishment from sunlight. But this can't be helped, not when so many people are in danger and Mercedes has so much to care for. Those she knows. Those she doesn't, and while there are more of the latter than the former, she keeps them in her heart and allows herself to make them a focus when she has the time.
Like now. Though part of that has to do with the simple fact that she knows that familiar figure striding past in Kyst, and Mercedes, fresh from an escort, clears her throat. ]
[Fighting is what Felixes do best! It's why he's spent the past two nights in and around this town, gladly putting his skills to the test—and helping others push the Spartae back, because this is neutral territory, isn't it? Kyst doesn't have the resources that, say, the Moon Temple does, and he's curious as to how these people manage.
But fighting throughout the night isn't the end of it; his days are spent checking on defenses, repairing his equipment, seeking out more information... you know, there's astonishingly little time to rest, let alone seek out a healer even though he knows his left arm is in a less than optimal state. There's just a, um... a deep, rather nasty cut winding its way from his shoulder to his forearm! Caused by a particularly nasty Spartae a few short hours ago, but it's fine, he's fine; he'd allowed a local healer to staunch the bleeding when he'd made his way back into the town itself, to clean it and hastily wrap his arm in a bandage, before he'd zipped away to take care of something else, because the plan... is to find Marianne once he's back in the Moon Temple? She can heal him properly, he's sure, but until then, he can still strap his shield to his (injured) arm; he can still swing a sword; he can still fight. For one more night, anyway.
...Of all the people to run into, though. Of all the people to run into. Like, of course he instantly recognizes that familiar voice; it's why he stops, noticeably stiffening before he turns around to face her. Ah. Hmm. Time to do his best Normal Felix Impression™.]
You again. [Rude!] Why are you here?
[Of all the times to come to the fishing capital of this world. Don't pay any mind to that mummified arm, Mercedes!! Or to the way those lines near his eyes seem even, hmm... deeper than usual...]
You know, Sylvain's not usually one for solo missions! He doesn't have Dimitri's raw strength to fall back on in a pinch, nor is he so confident in his ability to outmaneuver and outclass his opponents as Felix. Comparably, he's found he's at his best when he has the support of trusted friends and allies at his side--and, perhaps more importantly, when he has someone he wants to protect.
That last part does have a bit of a tendency to outweigh anything else, for better or for worse. Like... well, now, for example. He'd meant for it to be a simple trip! Sure, he'd be the first to admit that the plan had hardly been his most sensible right from the very start, but when he'd inquired about a certain location on the map--Caph, a place left distanced from the majority of the Court's other territories--and was waved off by claims that it wasn't worth checking, what else was he meant to do? There hadn't been time to sway anyone else to come with him by the time he'd decided, and it was meant to be a simple trip anyway... Ride out, check for potential signs of survival around the area (he's used to patrolling borders, after all) and then be back in Acubens by the next nightfall.
Looking back now, he thinks as he steps blindly back and nearly stumbles over one of countless bones littering the ground surrounding, it's a damn good thing Felix had been so stubbornly against the idea that he'd decided to come out as well. Without the light of the moon, Sylvain can only just make out the merciless swing of a Spartae's sword as it clangs uselessly against his shield; it feels too heavy as he lifts it, exhaustion clearly written in the effort it takes to return the blow, but the way the creature finally gives way against the silver-tipped lance Felix oh-so-kindly borrowed for him (thanks for the unknowing donation, Priestess, u da best) provides just enough relief for him to keep going against all odds. He can still hear Felix fighting some distance from him--and that brings a sort of relief with it as well--but how long have they been at this? Hours, surely, as the weariness searing into his muscles and the ache of bruises from blunt blows blossoming beneath his armor seems to suggest they've been at it all night. Too long, he corrects, a laugh caught in his throat like it might be trying to choke him. They've been fighting too long. Even the strongest soldier on the battlefield doesn't stand a chance if he can't bring himself to keep fighting, and if things continue like this...
...In a moment's respite, he tries to pick out his companion's frame against the seamlessly dark horizon. Although... he doesn't have as much trouble as he expects, actually? Or maybe it just... isn't so dark anymore. Sylvain nearly catches a mace to the shoulder as his tired mind tries to work these details into something concrete, something usable, and it's only once he glances back to his newest assailant and has to blink as his eyes fight to adjust to the change that he catches the faint golden glow rising on the horizon.
Even still, it's not until he fells the creature and finds none near enough to replace it that things slowly start to click into place.
"Felix," he shouts, and he aims for relieved but lands somewhere squarely between startled and panicked as he catches one last Spartae as it retreats past him. "Is... is that it?"
Did they actually survive that, because frankly, he's pretty sure he's tired enough to pass for dead.
[Riding into the wilderness was a stupid, stupid call to make—for both of them, honestly, but it wasn't as if Sylvain had given Felix much of a choice. Oh, Felix could have left him to his own devices, sure; Felix could have continued his survey of Medii and allowed the others to (hopefully) collect the idiot in their midst, and yet? And yet. The unfortunate, uncomfortable truth is that Felix knew what he was going to do the instant he'd skimmed through Sylvain's stupid message, because despite his determination to keep his old allies—his friends—at an arm's length...
...Well. It's something to mull over at a later, safer time; he certainly has no time to do so now, not as he focuses on pushing back wave after wave of Spartae. They're never-ending, apparently. Not particularly difficult to fight, really, but it's the sheer number of them that makes them a threat. Take one down, three more come out of nowhere—but he can't stop. Even as his movements grow sluggish, as his reaction time steadily slows, he draws upon his mounting frustration—not good enough, clearly, not strong enough—and forces himself forward, time and time and time again.
Or: Felix is running on autopilot, which is why, as he disarms a Spartae before neatly sending its skull flying, it takes him a moment to register... two things: that familiar voice calling out to him, and the fact that there are no enemies currently shambling his way. And maybe, just maybe, that has something to do with the faint light creeping over the tops of the surrounding trees? The bit of his brain that's still functioning slowly connects the sun to the hastily retreating enemies, but after hours of fighting, is this... it, or is this a trick...]
Stay vigilant, [he barks back, forcing himself to bring his blade up, to maintain his defensive posture as he watches things scurry into the shadows.] What do you see?
[Because there could be more coming from Sylvain's side of the clearing—but somehow, he doubts it. Didn't the person who gave him these weapons—thank u, Medii quartermaster, u the REAL MVP—tell him something about creatures fearing the sun... maybe... you know, it's hard to keep making these necessary fucking connections???]
[ So, Felix has a TRAITOR in his midst...specifically, the cat. The cat is currently curled up in Morgan's lap where he's sitting at his window seat in his room, door thrown wide open to air out the place (and to let him hear what's going on in the hallway).
Liam looks so comfortable like this. SO...SPOILED.
SO CONTENT -
Also Morgan is singing to the cat but like, that's a minor detail that matters less than this utter BETRAYAL. ]
LMFDKSFH the most exciting thread title of all time
[So Morgan's door is wide open—and that's fine, you know? Felix has, like, no interest in this weirdo and the weird things he possibly gets up to in his spare time, but as he passes by, he can't help but to briefly peek inside. It's human nature, you know... it's natural...
...But of course he has to stops when he sees all of THAT! What is this peaceful scene, y'all? Enjoy this flat look he's leveling at both creatures in this room.]
What are you doing.
[Is this not!question directed to Morgan? Is this not!question directed to Cat? Who knows!]
[ In Sylvain's defense, he IS listening carefully, and he DOES have some, ah... concerns?? About the current situation unfolding in the throne room. But Dimitri is keeping his cool as best he can, and that means he can afford to laugh a bit when it begins to sound more like a parent scolding an unruly child than anything else.
And so, naturally--because he's a good friend--Sylvain pulls out his compass. ]
his highness is already in trouble.
[ An alarming message! Especially since there's a moment's pause between it and the next: a sneaky image of Sylvain grinning at the camera like an asshole. Over his shoulder is Dimitri, busy being escorted away from the Emperor's dias by their attendants like a child being led into timeout. It's a rushed shot, but he has the feeling the guards stationed around wouldn't approve of anything more obvious. It's accompanied by one more message though, quickly switched back to text: ]
and you were worried about me being the one to watch out for? ill take that apology anytime, you know.
[Felix's meeting with the Priestess wasn't the, ah, smoothest thing in the world, but he came away with it with better understanding of his boundaries? He had to test the waters, you see. Had to make some things clear. He definitely was not being childishly stubborn.
(Shh.)
So Felix is not in the best mood when this picture comes through, and goodness gracious, but would you look at that! That sure looks like Dimitri in the background—and after squinting down at it (and scowling at Sylvain's dumb face, just for good measure), there's no mistaking it: that definitely IS Dimitri, and Felix feels a flash of—well. It's complicated. It's always complicated when it comes to their ol' buddy, but he wastes no time firing back a response.]
Keep waiting. What did he do.
[Give him the DEETS, Sylvain! How wild did he GET! But a few seconds after those first (extremely short) sentences come through, Sylvain gets to enjoy one (1) more:]
[ You know? Sylvain never did get to ask about Felix's dumb clock... so naturally, after some hourly chime or another reminds him, he has to take the very next opportunity to pull out his compass.
Which, unfortunately for Felix, means he has absolutely no warning whatsoever before he gets a very simple: ]
so, wait. could you not keep track of time or something?
[ Those too-long training sessions'll getcha!! Nevermind that there's like, no context given here? It isn't important--Felix is smart! He'll figure it out. ]
[What is Felix doing at this hour? Probably sitting in his room, patiently checking each weapon he owns while Liam the Cat, like, naps in the sunny spot beside him. This is a peaceful moment, Sylvain. This is a very Zen Felix.
Until, of course, that message comes a-buzzin' to his compass. Give him a second to frown down at it? To immediately connect the dots? To silently curse the stupidly clever individual named Sylvain Jose Gautier before he decides to go with a risky approach (that said stupidly clever individual will immediately see through): feigning ignorance.]
( These winter festivities are so delightful and Tsurumaru has had so much fun learning about them. Of course, when he learned about gift giving... he wanted to give it a try.
So of course, he arranges for a messenger to give Felix a very, very special gift.
IT'S A CAT. Just kidding but there's a note right between the ears that says, )
F R A G I L E. G L A S S .
( That's all it says. Nothing about a sender or anything. Anyway, whenever Felix figures out how he's going to skin this poor cat alive, he'll find that he went through all of this trouble for... a dumb card. It's literally just a card with an address written on it and a piece of broken glass glued inside. He might recognize it as the address for a certain smith he's fond of. These are good hints, Felix Hugo Fraldarius.
If he goes to the smith, the smith will recognize him and say he has something or him to pick up. It's... a bottle of sword oil, all paid for and free for him to take. Ah, but there's a note attached. Enjoy your gift you feline murderer. Or don't. )
[Things Constantin does not expect, on an ordinary day when he returns to his room at the Temple: a cat slinking right past him into the room as soon as he opens the door. That's fine, he can go about his business with a cat in the room, he supposes? Or rather: he makes something of an effort to pick up the cat, but one daring escape across the room later sees the cat victorious and half of Constantin's brand new Magic Textbooks and papers scattered off his desk onto the floor.
Cool!
The next ten minutes are surely not a great look for Constantin, who spends a lot of it pleading with a cat, losing an invisible cat, trying to shoo a cat off of his new spooky tree, and eventually barely managing to get close enough to read this... very adorable collar... hm! Felix! Well.
Constantin goes back to open his own door, then waits, then when Liam-the-Cat slinks back out of his room, follows him down the hall... aha. He'll let Liam take care of getting Felix's attention, but know that he is right here in the hall, leaning against the wall whenever Felix comes out to retrieve his precious baby. Hello, he's returning this, you owe him a clean desk.]
[Liam is a tornado given feline form—and Felix is, unsurprisingly, fond of him, which is why the sound of something scratching at his door sends him immediately setting his sword to the side. Weapon maintenance is important; the dumb, demanding cat that may or may not be his is also important, so over to the door he goes, unlatching the lock even as he grumbles:]
I'm not feeding you again. You're ridiculous.
[So Felix speaks to cats just as shortly as he speaks to everyone else! Good to know. But as he opens the door and leans into the hall, fully prepared to shoot Liam a Look, what—well, who—does he see instead? Constantin, of course. Hmm. Enjoy the second or so of blinking, my good sir, before Felix processes what has just been said... and is, ah, uncomfortably reminded of the last time he saw this man. Felix's life... is a true comedy of errors. God damn.]
"Found?" [An annoyed sort of noise as he glances down at Liam, taking in that collar as the cat saunters close enough to rub a cheek against his boot. Fuckin' Santa.] And you followed him.
[It's an almost an accusation, really, because is that not a little weird.]
[Goddess above, gramps, but why call when you can text? Or: Felix prefers texts because he can let them sit for who knows how long, but Dimitri's voice coming through his dumb compass means he should probably respond... soon. Soon-ish. Damn.]
[So. The week is long, and in the end there's something to be said for the feeling of simple productivity - the satisfaction of work well done. Not that Constantin has never worked a day in his life, but he's a governor, he sits at a desk and navigates paperwork and people and politics, not— for example, not carrying supplies back and forth around the village for the innkeeper. She smiles very sweetly at him and tells him he's done a good job, and so he supposes that he can skip complaining about how it makes his shoulders ache to help carry, apparently, everything the entire town owns from one end to the other.
It's working and that's what counts. Sure, it's not... impressive, necessarily. Doing what amounts to chores for the locals so they can better focus on getting their lives back isn't glamorous, but it will do.
What makes it worthwhile, honestly, is— well. It's Felix, although if there's a way to express as much without seeming needy at best, Constantin doesn't know it. A long day ending in a quiet evening is more valuable than anything, he decides. The meandering half-conversations they share over those simple meals become the high point of Constantin's days by the end of the second evening, and he isn't really surprised by it. Looks exchanged in passing on the way to their respective tasks, idle grateful pats on the shoulder that linger longer than they need to, private little smiles that aren't private at all and earn him looks from the old lady at the inn— whew. He's really in it now, he knows, but it can't be helped! Probably!
Still, when the Priestess' messenger comes and asks for him, tells him there are children in the orphanage outside of the town's limits that are being menaced by demons, Constantin can't stop himself from going at once. He nearly rushes off the moment he reads the missive— nearly. But Felix...
So! Constantin writes, instead, a quick note:]
Dearest Felix,
[...Hm. Yeah, go for broke.]
Regrettably I am unable to deliver this news in person! A sudden surprise has called me urgently away, and official command (by which I mean, the messenger who glared at me when I told her I would like to pen this note, and is glaring at me still now) hastens my departure such that I cannot stay to tell you as I would like.
Nevertheless! I will return as soon as I am able, and should I linger, please ask after me with the messenger— she says she will wait until I return, to deliver my report with haste.
I will see you soon!
Best, Constantin
[It's a great note with all the necessary detail, for sure. He leaves it folded and held down on the corner by a teacup on their little meal table; his bag is gone and the note says Felix on the outside, so whenever Felix returns, it should be an Obvious Clue.
...And then Constantin does not return for nearly three full days. The Priestess' messenger, who does hang around, doesn't seem particularly bothered by that length of time, and accepts his report without emotion when he finally returns. She leaves, and Constantin, exhausted, drags himself upstairs to go to bed. It's the middle of the afternoon, but whatever— he puts down his bag and the new little chest he's acquired on the floor, and manages to pull off his boots before he quite simply tips over sideways on the bed to sleep. This is fine.
[The week is long. There's much to think about, much to process, but Felix does as he's always done: he pushes forward. He takes his emotions and channels them into other, more productive things, because he's never been good at—never seen the point in—standing still. Better to assist Daggerty with surveying the village's borders, or track beasts that other hunters shy away from, or, once his rowdy band of misfits catches wind of his arrival, spar with them until it's too dark to see a damn thing. This is fine. He is fine.
As is Constantin, or so he assumes—and is, ah, grateful for? Felix has few friends; keeping people at an arm's length is his hobby, honestly, and yet Constantin is...? There is something undeniably warm about such simple things as sitting across from him at dinner, or catching his eye as they make their way through the village, and that almost certainly stems from Constantin himself. Odd! It's not the sort of thing Felix is used to, but he finds himself leaning into it all the same, looking forward to even their briefest of encounters, because the only thing expected of him... is that he will be himself. Hmm.
Hmm.
It's just... nice. Felix appreciates it, on some level, which is why returning to the room to find a note instead of a person waiting for him is somewhat of a disappointment. No, no, scratch that—a clear disappointment, even as he skims the note and knows that he has no, ah, claim to Constantin's time. He goes where he pleases; he does what he pleases; he owes Felix nothing, at the end of the day, and yet, as Felix's eyes drift back up to the first line...
...Well. Felix folds up the note, tucks it into his pocket, and spends the night in the tavern below, listening to Yulia and the other mercenaries boast and brag. It's enjoyable enough, he supposes; it fills the silence he normally enjoys, but, for whatever reason, currently wishes to avoid.
That, however, is it! The next few days are spent gallivanting about the forest with the mercenaries, and while he nods at the messenger every time their paths cross, he doesn't think to ask for more details as to where Constantin is or what Constantin is doing. It's not his business; it's as simple as that, really, and so he trusts that Constantin will return when his mystery business is concluded.
Which, of course, he does... when Felix is once again out in the forest, because isn't that just how it works. He returns to the inn just before dinner, and when the innkeeper waves him over the moment she spots him walk through the door, he thinks nothing of it. Another scolding, he thinks. Fussing at him for tracking mud somewhere—but no, no. She asks him, quite sweetly, to see if his friend is too tired to come downstairs for dinner, and Felix (stupidly) blinks back at her. Ah, so Constantin is—
Oh, he is. Felix finds this out for himself a few minutes later as he stands before the bed, gazing down at the familiar figure resting atop it. Liam, little shit that he is, is curled right by Constantin's side, stealing whatever warmth he can, and the sight is... good. It is, in fact, a bit like seeing Constantin at the Jarl's Keep, and once again something slowly unclenches within him.
And what is there to do about that? Lean forward, obviously. Study Constantin's sleeping face for a moment, ensuring all is as it should be, before reaching out to... and gently, gently shake him awake. Good morning, sunshine. Listen to these amazingly touching five words:]
You're going to miss dinner.
[He's fuckin' NAILED it. He's doin' GREAT. But there is this, at least: whenever Constantin bleary eyes focus on the person hovering above, there is no trademark scowl to be seen. Felix's expression is... relaxed? The corners of his lips are actually quirking up—so please silently accept this smallest of smiles, because Felix is clearly pleased to see Constantin.]
[Sylvain, Felix is having a perfectly nice time in one of his favorite villages? Or, more accurately: Felix is processing this past battle in one of his favorite villages, so maybe it's less of a perfectly nice time and more of a, mmm, somewhat acceptable time. He's handling... things.
This message, though? This message. Felix is probably in the middle of a hunt when he receives this bullshit, and please know that he stares down at it and considers not responding at all. Maybe he shouldn't—but Sylvain is Sylvain, and the battle was only a few days ago, and thus:]
She realized you're an idiot.
[Good to know you're alive, Sylvain, but Jesus CHRIST.]
[Dimitri, Felix is going to Beat You To Death. Just kidding—but honestly, what a way to open this message? What a way to announce your departure? God damn. Somewhere far, far away, Felix pinches the bridge of his nose and begins typing what is, for him, a novel. This is how you know he has Feelings about all of this.]
What matters are there to tend do. You went to jail because you were an idiot. That's hardly surprising. And you looked as terrible as I thought you would. I saw the picture.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
action, during the oct event... it's here, liam therapy
Marianne is There!! Well, technically, she is at the Temple, feeling anxious and strained and 100% ready for this fight to be over, while also aware that her condition is nothing in comparison to those who've been diligently fighting every night... like... Felix... Felix is... She knows he's a soldier, obviously -- they trained at the same Academy -- but it's one thing to hear about it and then see it in action. It's not that Marianne thinks he's about to drop dead from exhaustion or that he's even particularly reckless. She's just used to seeing her comrades fight and fight and then suddenly lose steam, and it would be terrible if Felix ended up the same way.
He's too fast and strong for her to try and tag along every time he goes out too, she can't be of help if she forces him to take care of her. Which is why, now that she hears him back in his room, she musters up enough courage to run to his door and knock...! Speed is key here, who knows when Felix will leave... AGAIN??]
Um, Felix! It's me, Marianne. I'm coming in...!
[none of that 'may I come in' etiquette that Marianne normally always uses, she's too worried to remember her manners as she PUSHES that door open!!! first aid kit in one hand and... if Felix looks down, Liam at her ankles.]
the best healer!!! ...and marianne
...Nah, though. Nah. Felix is ultimately sensible—and, you know, more than a bit battered by this point in time; like, every muscle in his body feels so sore, so stiff, that he's struggling to remove his coat—seriously, why does it have so many god damn buckles—when he hears that familiar, timid voice. Ah. Well. Maybe if he ignores this call, she'll go away... except NOT, because as he, like, half-turns around just in time to see that door open—oh, hello, Marianne. ...And Liam, who trots right inside like he owns the place. Is that a bed? That's his bed now...
But while Felix would love nothing more than to be alone right now, he’s too Tired to do anything more than halfheartedly glare... and snort, incredulously, before:]
At least you knocked.
[And with the way he snaps that, he’s obviously a) being snide and b) less than pleased—but, well? What’s this obviously very important matter, Weird Girl? Explain yourself and/or GO!! But also, feel free to notice... that nice bruise high on one cheekbone, because guess who got SMACKED...]
WOW.... not untrue though
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me: take off that kewl turtleneck felix!!! for science!!!
LMFKDS that's locked behind the s-support? duh? leave room for sothis
my extremely subtle thirst has been foiled smh!!!!
manlet thirst... love yourself, girl
SDLFKSJ don't say manlet or i'll think of a christmas elf!!!
say manlet three times in a row and you summon felix in an elf costume
i cannot at this visual
action; october event
Like now. Though part of that has to do with the simple fact that she knows that familiar figure striding past in Kyst, and Mercedes, fresh from an escort, clears her throat. ]
Felix--!
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But fighting throughout the night isn't the end of it; his days are spent checking on defenses, repairing his equipment, seeking out more information... you know, there's astonishingly little time to rest, let alone seek out a healer even though he knows his left arm is in a less than optimal state. There's just a, um... a deep, rather nasty cut winding its way from his shoulder to his forearm! Caused by a particularly nasty Spartae a few short hours ago, but it's fine, he's fine; he'd allowed a local healer to staunch the bleeding when he'd made his way back into the town itself, to clean it and hastily wrap his arm in a bandage, before he'd zipped away to take care of something else, because the plan... is to find Marianne once he's back in the Moon Temple? She can heal him properly, he's sure, but until then, he can still strap his shield to his (injured) arm; he can still swing a sword; he can still fight. For one more night, anyway.
...Of all the people to run into, though. Of all the people to run into. Like, of course he instantly recognizes that familiar voice; it's why he stops, noticeably stiffening before he turns around to face her. Ah. Hmm. Time to do his best Normal Felix Impression™.]
You again. [Rude!] Why are you here?
[Of all the times to come to the fishing capital of this world. Don't pay any mind to that mummified arm, Mercedes!! Or to the way those lines near his eyes seem even, hmm... deeper than usual...]
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Action; A novel for the October Event
That last part does have a bit of a tendency to outweigh anything else, for better or for worse. Like... well, now, for example. He'd meant for it to be a simple trip! Sure, he'd be the first to admit that the plan had hardly been his most sensible right from the very start, but when he'd inquired about a certain location on the map--Caph, a place left distanced from the majority of the Court's other territories--and was waved off by claims that it wasn't worth checking, what else was he meant to do? There hadn't been time to sway anyone else to come with him by the time he'd decided, and it was meant to be a simple trip anyway... Ride out, check for potential signs of survival around the area (he's used to patrolling borders, after all) and then be back in Acubens by the next nightfall.
Looking back now, he thinks as he steps blindly back and nearly stumbles over one of countless bones littering the ground surrounding, it's a damn good thing Felix had been so stubbornly against the idea that he'd decided to come out as well. Without the light of the moon, Sylvain can only just make out the merciless swing of a Spartae's sword as it clangs uselessly against his shield; it feels too heavy as he lifts it, exhaustion clearly written in the effort it takes to return the blow, but the way the creature finally gives way against the silver-tipped lance Felix oh-so-kindly borrowed for him
(thanks for the unknowing donation, Priestess, u da best)provides just enough relief for him to keep going against all odds. He can still hear Felix fighting some distance from him--and that brings a sort of relief with it as well--but how long have they been at this? Hours, surely, as the weariness searing into his muscles and the ache of bruises from blunt blows blossoming beneath his armor seems to suggest they've been at it all night. Too long, he corrects, a laugh caught in his throat like it might be trying to choke him. They've been fighting too long. Even the strongest soldier on the battlefield doesn't stand a chance if he can't bring himself to keep fighting, and if things continue like this......In a moment's respite, he tries to pick out his companion's frame against the seamlessly dark horizon. Although... he doesn't have as much trouble as he expects, actually? Or maybe it just... isn't so dark anymore. Sylvain nearly catches a mace to the shoulder as his tired mind tries to work these details into something concrete, something usable, and it's only once he glances back to his newest assailant and has to blink as his eyes fight to adjust to the change that he catches the faint golden glow rising on the horizon.
Even still, it's not until he fells the creature and finds none near enough to replace it that things slowly start to click into place.
"Felix," he shouts, and he aims for relieved but lands somewhere squarely between startled and panicked as he catches one last Spartae as it retreats past him. "Is... is that it?"
Did they actually survive that, because frankly, he's pretty sure he's tired enough to pass for dead.
sylvain is an idiot, part 1 of ??
...Well. It's something to mull over at a later, safer time; he certainly has no time to do so now, not as he focuses on pushing back wave after wave of Spartae. They're never-ending, apparently. Not particularly difficult to fight, really, but it's the sheer number of them that makes them a threat. Take one down, three more come out of nowhere—but he can't stop. Even as his movements grow sluggish, as his reaction time steadily slows, he draws upon his mounting frustration—not good enough, clearly, not strong enough—and forces himself forward, time and time and time again.
Or: Felix is running on autopilot, which is why, as he disarms a Spartae before neatly sending its skull flying, it takes him a moment to register... two things: that familiar voice calling out to him, and the fact that there are no enemies currently shambling his way. And maybe, just maybe, that has something to do with the faint light creeping over the tops of the surrounding trees? The bit of his brain that's still functioning slowly connects the sun to the hastily retreating enemies, but after hours of fighting, is this... it, or is this a trick...]
Stay vigilant, [he barks back, forcing himself to bring his blade up, to maintain his defensive posture as he watches things scurry into the shadows.] What do you see?
[Because there could be more coming from Sylvain's side of the clearing—but somehow, he doubts it. Didn't the person who gave him these weapons—thank u, Medii quartermaster, u the REAL MVP—tell him something about creatures fearing the sun... maybe... you know, it's hard to keep making these necessary fucking connections???]
Oh are we keeping track? 1/∞ then for sure
sylvain, the point of the promise... is to live, NOT send felix to an early grave
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that cat thing
Liam looks so comfortable like this. SO...SPOILED.
SO CONTENT -
Also Morgan is singing to the cat but like, that's a minor detail that matters less than this utter BETRAYAL. ]
LMFDKSFH the most exciting thread title of all time
...But of course he has to stops when he sees all of THAT! What is this peaceful scene, y'all? Enjoy this flat look he's leveling at both creatures in this room.]
What are you doing.
[Is this not!question directed to Morgan? Is this not!question directed to Cat? Who knows!]
LOOK!! don't u sass me or i'll use the big eyes icon
i'll block his journal, maggie! test me!!
you love me!!!!!!!
maybe, but don't call me out like this!!!!
CALLS U OUT EVEN MORE belatedly GOD ELIA IM SORRY
YOU'RE FINE!! i still love u, maggie!
GOOD
Text; un:Sylvain (Aka Dimitri's Audience Roast 2k19)
And so, naturally--because he's a good friend--Sylvain pulls out his compass. ]
his highness is already in trouble.
[ An alarming message! Especially since there's a moment's pause between it and the next: a sneaky image of Sylvain grinning at the camera like an asshole. Over his shoulder is Dimitri, busy being escorted away from the Emperor's dias by their attendants like a child being led into timeout. It's a rushed shot, but he has the feeling the guards stationed around wouldn't approve of anything more obvious. It's accompanied by one more message though, quickly switched back to text: ]
and you were worried about me being the one to watch out for? ill take that apology anytime, you know.
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(Shh.)
So Felix is not in the best mood when this picture comes through, and goodness gracious, but would you look at that! That sure looks like Dimitri in the background—and after squinting down at it (and scowling at Sylvain's dumb face, just for good measure), there's no mistaking it: that definitely IS Dimitri, and Felix feels a flash of—well. It's complicated. It's always complicated when it comes to their ol' buddy, but he wastes no time firing back a response.]
Keep waiting.
What did he do.
[Give him the DEETS, Sylvain! How wild did he GET! But a few seconds after those first (extremely short) sentences come through, Sylvain gets to enjoy one (1) more:]
You look ridiculous.
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Another Text; un:Sylvain
Which, unfortunately for Felix, means he has absolutely no warning whatsoever before he gets a very simple: ]
so, wait. could you not keep track of time or something?
[ Those too-long training sessions'll getcha!! Nevermind that there's like, no context given here? It isn't important--Felix is smart! He'll figure it out. ]
clever title tbh
Until, of course, that message comes a-buzzin' to his compass. Give him a second to frown down at it? To immediately connect the dots? To silently curse the stupidly clever individual named Sylvain Jose Gautier before he decides to go with a risky approach (that said stupidly clever individual will immediately see through): feigning ignorance.]
What.
Every time Sylvain messages him I'll add another Another, just you wait
you are now banned from this inbox
Your ban means NOTHING to me
felix's next blessing: sylvain is fuckin blocked
Felix brings the block feature to Fellden and a new war stars when gods start to block each other
"a new war stars," huh... you don't say
Obviously I meant a new Star Wars, showing now in select Fellden theatres
hmm... i give that save a 7 out of 10
Overruled, it gets 10 out of 10 bc I say so
( DELIVERY )
So of course, he arranges for a messenger to give Felix a very, very special gift.
IT'S A CAT. Just kidding but there's a note right between the ears that says, )
F R A G I L E. G L A S S .
( That's all it says. Nothing about a sender or anything. Anyway, whenever Felix figures out how he's going to skin this poor cat alive, he'll find that he went through all of this trouble for... a dumb card. It's literally just a card with an address written on it and a piece of broken glass glued inside. He might recognize it as the address for a certain smith he's fond of. These are good hints, Felix Hugo Fraldarius.
If he goes to the smith, the smith will recognize him and say he has something or him to pick up. It's... a bottle of sword oil, all paid for and free for him to take. Ah, but there's a note attached. Enjoy your gift you feline murderer. Or don't. )
cat action...catction
Cool!
The next ten minutes are surely not a great look for Constantin, who spends a lot of it pleading with a cat, losing an invisible cat, trying to shoo a cat off of his new spooky tree, and eventually barely managing to get close enough to read this... very adorable collar... hm! Felix! Well.
Constantin goes back to open his own door, then waits, then when Liam-the-Cat slinks back out of his room, follows him down the hall... aha. He'll let Liam take care of getting Felix's attention, but know that he is right here in the hall, leaning against the wall whenever Felix comes out to retrieve his precious baby. Hello, he's returning this, you owe him a clean desk.]
I found something that belongs to you.
catction... closes my gd eyes
I'm not feeding you again. You're ridiculous.
[So Felix speaks to cats just as shortly as he speaks to everyone else! Good to know. But as he opens the door and leans into the hall, fully prepared to shoot Liam a Look, what—well, who—does he see instead? Constantin, of course. Hmm. Enjoy the second or so of blinking, my good sir, before Felix processes what has just been said... and is, ah, uncomfortably reminded of the last time he saw this man. Felix's life... is a true comedy of errors. God damn.]
"Found?" [An annoyed sort of noise as he glances down at Liam, taking in that collar as the cat saunters close enough to rub a cheek against his boot. Fuckin' Santa.] And you followed him.
[It's an almost an accusation, really, because is that not a little weird.]
enjoy it
i rebuke it
i'll try again
i see how 2020 is going to go
i can't not say it, so, you have 2020 vision????
can't believe i have to block you on every platform! sad!!
how can i deny that setup! you would have done the same!
how dare you insult me like this?
embrace your fucking fate, coward
excuse u, ma'am, this is a christian inbox
is it though
it is now... did you know st felix is the patron saint of spiders
hmm i don't like that
the more you know!
8-legged disgust....
next blessing for connie: a cool pet spider
he'll die! thanks!
name it felix jr
no he's going to squish it
so name it dante
ice cold
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hellooooooo dreamwidthhh
that echo... spooky...
it's the ghost of my first tag
and now this inbox is haunted! great!
you already cursed it with spiders, at least ghosts can be fun
un: dimitri; voice
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Make it quick.
[Don't waste his TIME!]
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like 2/3? afternoon? don't @ me i'm chillin
It's working and that's what counts. Sure, it's not... impressive, necessarily. Doing what amounts to chores for the locals so they can better focus on getting their lives back isn't glamorous, but it will do.
What makes it worthwhile, honestly, is— well. It's Felix, although if there's a way to express as much without seeming needy at best, Constantin doesn't know it. A long day ending in a quiet evening is more valuable than anything, he decides. The meandering half-conversations they share over those simple meals become the high point of Constantin's days by the end of the second evening, and he isn't really surprised by it. Looks exchanged in passing on the way to their respective tasks, idle grateful pats on the shoulder that linger longer than they need to, private little smiles that aren't private at all and earn him looks from the old lady at the inn— whew. He's really in it now, he knows, but it can't be helped! Probably!
Still, when the Priestess' messenger comes and asks for him, tells him there are children in the orphanage outside of the town's limits that are being menaced by demons, Constantin can't stop himself from going at once. He nearly rushes off the moment he reads the missive— nearly. But Felix...
So! Constantin writes, instead, a quick note:]
Dearest Felix,
[...Hm. Yeah, go for broke.]
Regrettably I am unable to deliver this news in person! A sudden surprise has called me urgently away, and official command (by which I mean, the messenger who glared at me when I told her I would like to pen this note, and is glaring at me still now) hastens my departure such that I cannot stay to tell you as I would like.
Nevertheless! I will return as soon as I am able, and should I linger, please ask after me with the messenger— she says she will wait until I return, to deliver my report with haste.
I will see you soon!
Best,
Constantin
[It's a great note with all the necessary detail, for sure. He leaves it folded and held down on the corner by a teacup on their little meal table; his bag is gone and the note says Felix on the outside, so whenever Felix returns, it should be an Obvious Clue.
...And then Constantin does not return for nearly three full days. The Priestess' messenger, who does hang around, doesn't seem particularly bothered by that length of time, and accepts his report without emotion when he finally returns. She leaves, and Constantin, exhausted, drags himself upstairs to go to bed. It's the middle of the afternoon, but whatever— he puts down his bag and the new little chest he's acquired on the floor, and manages to pull off his boots before he quite simply tips over sideways on the bed to sleep. This is fine.
So, hey. He's back? What's up, sunshine.]
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As is Constantin, or so he assumes—and is, ah, grateful for? Felix has few friends; keeping people at an arm's length is his hobby, honestly, and yet Constantin is...? There is something undeniably warm about such simple things as sitting across from him at dinner, or catching his eye as they make their way through the village, and that almost certainly stems from Constantin himself. Odd! It's not the sort of thing Felix is used to, but he finds himself leaning into it all the same, looking forward to even their briefest of encounters, because the only thing expected of him... is that he will be himself. Hmm.
Hmm.
It's just... nice. Felix appreciates it, on some level, which is why returning to the room to find a note instead of a person waiting for him is somewhat of a disappointment. No, no, scratch that—a clear disappointment, even as he skims the note and knows that he has no, ah, claim to Constantin's time. He goes where he pleases; he does what he pleases; he owes Felix nothing, at the end of the day, and yet, as Felix's eyes drift back up to the first line...
...Well. Felix folds up the note, tucks it into his pocket, and spends the night in the tavern below, listening to Yulia and the other mercenaries boast and brag. It's enjoyable enough, he supposes; it fills the silence he normally enjoys, but, for whatever reason, currently wishes to avoid.
That, however, is it! The next few days are spent gallivanting about the forest with the mercenaries, and while he nods at the messenger every time their paths cross, he doesn't think to ask for more details as to where Constantin is or what Constantin is doing. It's not his business; it's as simple as that, really, and so he trusts that Constantin will return when his mystery business is concluded.
Which, of course, he does... when Felix is once again out in the forest, because isn't that just how it works. He returns to the inn just before dinner, and when the innkeeper waves him over the moment she spots him walk through the door, he thinks nothing of it. Another scolding, he thinks. Fussing at him for tracking mud somewhere—but no, no. She asks him, quite sweetly, to see if his friend is too tired to come downstairs for dinner, and Felix (stupidly) blinks back at her. Ah, so Constantin is—
Oh, he is. Felix finds this out for himself a few minutes later as he stands before the bed, gazing down at the familiar figure resting atop it. Liam, little shit that he is, is curled right by Constantin's side, stealing whatever warmth he can, and the sight is... good. It is, in fact, a bit like seeing Constantin at the Jarl's Keep, and once again something slowly unclenches within him.
And what is there to do about that? Lean forward, obviously. Study Constantin's sleeping face for a moment, ensuring all is as it should be, before reaching out to... and gently, gently shake him awake. Good morning, sunshine. Listen to these amazingly touching five words:]
You're going to miss dinner.
[He's fuckin' NAILED it. He's doin' GREAT. But there is this, at least: whenever Constantin bleary eyes focus on the person hovering above, there is no trademark scowl to be seen. Felix's expression is... relaxed? The corners of his lips are actually quirking up—so please silently accept this smallest of smiles, because Felix is clearly pleased to see Constantin.]
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hello, my name is elia and we will PRETEND i didn't fuck up my own timeline
i won't judge u
i feel the judgment
it's all in your head
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Text; un: Sylvain (bc Felix is obligated to listen to his relationship woes)
[ Don't answer that, Felix. ]
i dont get it! one of them has been into me for weeks, and now she suddenly wants nothing to do with me...
do you think i said something wrong?
[ Actually, maybe he shouldn't answer that one either... ]
that wasn't in the friendship contract??
This message, though? This message. Felix is probably in the middle of a hunt when he receives this bullshit, and please know that he stares down at it and considers not responding at all. Maybe he shouldn't—but Sylvain is Sylvain, and the battle was only a few days ago, and thus:]
She realized you're an idiot.
[Good to know you're alive, Sylvain, but Jesus CHRIST.]
It was in the fine print's fine print!! Taps forehead
felix is calling his lawyer to review this document
Sorry, Sylvain already called no take backsies
felix's lawyer says this contract is null and void
Felix's lawyer can suck it
sounds like a threat? felix's lawyer is contacting the authorities
Felix's lawyer is a COWARD!
that's LIBEL and you WILL be sued for it!
How you gonna sue me when I had to look up what that MEANT
closes my eyes... i can't believe you admitted that
You think I know LAW TERMS?? I am a simple fool, here for jokes and memes
you are an idjit
Maybe so!!
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text, 2/7
Felix. I have been released from jail today.
[What a greeting.]
But I do not have much time before I take my leave again.
[He sends that, and then-- Ah.]
Not for imprisonment, but for a task altogether different. If there are matters that you and I need to tend to, it is best to get them done now.
[can dima chill for like 5 seconds.]
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What matters are there to tend do.
You went to jail because you were an idiot.
That's hardly surprising.
And you looked as terrible as I thought you would.
I saw the picture.
[Thank you, Sylvain.]
Where are you going now.
Haven't you done enough.
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immediately post tattoo reveal bc.....i have to
thank god
[OOC-ly, did I die? Yes. IC-ly, would Felix wait six days to respond with one (1) word? ...Listen. It's possible.]
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