[ so they finally make it home from The Dive, and it's probably like, not really that late and sylvain has (un)fortunately sobered up a little on the walk back to their shared place. which is why, once they kick off their shoes and everything, sylvain makes this noise as he pats his pockets, flicking on the light in the kitchen. ]
Fe, come here for a sec.
[ when felix makes his way over, he'll find sylvain pulling out a bunch of cocktailswords of different varieties. it's actually kind of a ridiculous amount? how did he manage to bring home this many?? did he actually order than many drinks to get that many cocktail swords??? it's a mystery. ]
I saw these at the bar and I thought of you, [ he says, completely seriously as he starts rearranging them by size and length from shortest to longest. sorry he's a neat freak who likes to be organized. ] They're kinda cool, right?
[Felix didn't have... the worst night? Not that he's eager to return to The Dive™ any time soon; the music was too loud, the people were too, ah, open, and by the time he steps into the run-down house he's to share with Sylvain for the foreseeable future, he's hit his Event quota for the next, like, three moons. It was all so much to take in—but Sylvain had been by his side every step of the way, and that, you know. That made it bearable. Even Sylvain tipping him a wink from across the room before dedicating a stupid song to him helped make it all that much more bearable, though Felix would rather die than admit it.
And maybe, just maybe, that's because Felix is selfishly grateful to have Sylvain with him in this wild world. It would be better, of course, if Sylvain were back in Faerghus, ensuring everything is running smoothly—but no, no. He's here, and he's pulling bright something-or-others out of his pocket as Felix obligingly wanders over to stand beside him, and Felix feels a disgusting swell of affection as he plucks one of Sylvain's offerings off the counter. I thought of you.]
...Rapiers.
[Holding it up to the light, he cants his head, squinting a bit while he studies this tiny, too-bright thing.]
The proportions are off. The hilt alone... [...Hmm. He ends that thought with a short hum, lowering his hand as he glances back down at the many, many cocktail swords Sylvain is fussing with. Stupid, he thinks, and yet—well! Look at them! He's not leaning a tad closer to get a better view of the assortment, do not @ him.] ...How many did you steal?
[ their new lodgings is no gautier estate or castle fraldarius, but like, they've had much, much worse before they ended up here. besides, felix is here with him and it's enough for sylvain to consider this home, for the time being. he's still kind of riding the high from the bar, with all the music and the drinks and everything else that came with it. he thinks if he was still nineteen and determined to destroy himself in every way possible, he would've appreciated it more, maybe try to stay even longer. but as outgoing as he's always been, he still had his limits, still had a point where things got overwhelming even for him. maybe it's the war; maybe he's older now, or maybe it's both. those five years spent on the frontlines felt a little like dog years, really, and maybe it's finally starting to catch up to him.
but one thing is for certain: nothing comes close to the simple pleasure of just standing side by side with felix, studying these bright little toothpick swords beneath the glow of the kitchen light. sylvain watches him pick up one, sees the tiny change in his expression that belies his interest despite what he says, and sylvain feels inexplicably pleased with himself. not that he had any doubts, when it comes to felix, but it's nice. it's always nice seeing him interested in something. ]
No idea, I kind of lost count. [ he chuckles as he shifts to lean his hip against the counter once he's done rearranging, giving felix a little more room to check out the rest of his collection. ] And I didn't steal them. I mean, the glasses were empty and they were just sitting there, you know. It would've been a shame if they got thrown out.
[Listen: Felix was tipsy. He held some hands? Picked a fight about coffee? And, ah, kissed someone, but give him a second to think back through his night before he connects the (probable) dots...]
[ the scene is set: it is exactly 7:05am according to the little clock on the kitchen microwave, not too late and not too early that sylvain couldn't sleep in for a little bit. it is, however, late enough that felix has come back from his early morning training, and sylvain has managed to corner him with some "breakfast", which is just his spicy smoked meat and a large side of eggs that he got from the farm. one day, he'll have enough ingredients to make an omelette.
but anyway, this is all just a lead up to the main event, which is... deep cleaning their apartment. like, okay, it's not nearly as dusty as it was when they first found it? but there is only so much grime sylvain can take before his neat freak kicks in, so here they are. ]
Come on, Fe, it's just like back at the Academy. [ he has borrowed some cleaning supplies from the chocobo stables: a few buckets, two brooms and two mops, a few towels. at least their apartment isn't that big; sylvain is confident that they'll be able to finish well before noon. hopefully. ] Didn't the Professor make you pull weeds and clean the stables for those group activities? Or was that just me?
[It's stupidly easy to keep Felix where you want him, provided you know what Felix likes. Sylvain does, and thus—this! Felix gnawing on one of the last pieces of his smoked meat as he first eyes those cleaning supplies, then the man gesturing to them. He's not above cleaning; he did, in fact, do his fair share of chores during their school days, and he does enjoy a clean living space, but...
...Ugh. He would prefer to go clean and oil his sword, so.]
Just you, [Felix says, uncharitably, between bites.] I took my training seriously, Sylvain.
[And the only trouble he got into was trouble Sylvain dragged him into, so, you know. Byleth forced him to work with others, it's true, but Byleth never assigned extra chores because he was, say, a lazy womanizer. Funny how that works!
But anyway, as Felix turns to take in their admittedly dusty apartment:]
Everything looks clean.
[Like, compared to... a mud-covered tent in the middle of a war camp? It's all relative, bud.]
Yeah, and so did Ingrid, but the Professor still paired us up every week anyway.
[ probably because byleth knew ingrid would keep sylvain in line, but whatever! the point still stands. no one was exempt from chores back then and no one is exempt from chores here, either.
so to felix's argument: sylvain walks up next to him, getting into his personal space just so he can brush one finger over the table felix is eating at. it comes away coated with a layer of dust, and the table now has a distinctly clear stripe over it. ]
[There is a bar, and there is only so long Constantin can wander around this weird and gloomy place before he would rather just lean all the way into simple vices and avoid existential thinking, and so: Constantin is at the bar. Frankly, it's nicer than most taverns he's ever been to, but that doesn't change how it's not nearly as lively or fun at all. The "robots" aren't good conversationalists and so many people here are so afraid of the things that, hmm— it's just boring! It sucks! Why aren't there people in the bar!
Which is why, while Constantin is in the bar waiting for people to show up, and Felix is probably in the bar because there are not so many people at all, he beelines right over. A familiar face! Kind of! That is something.
Anyway, hi, he's here and he's sitting down and now it's Social Time, buddy.]
Hello again! Your name was Felix, wasn't it? We met when you came upstairs to scold me for living too loudly.
[Did Constantin climb over the back of a shitty couch mostly blocking his own apartment door to receive this scolding? You bet. He worked it out!]
where are my 4 emails, instacart... i need a refund
[Sometimes, you see, people come to this bar to sing weird songs. Sometimes. And sometimes Felix finds himself loitering by the bar, nursing a drink as he pretends he isn't listening to the hit-or-miss entertainment, because what else is there to do in this place? There isn't a proper training yard yet; Felix is still, ah, working his way up to it.
But no one is singing shit tonight, which means that Felix hasn't just nursed a drink; he's downed, like, two drinks in an attempt to hurry things along. Maybe three drinks? It doesn't matter. What does matter is that he's in a nice place when someone drops down beside him and, horror of horrors, actually addresses him. He's not good at conversation; usually he relies on one of his more loquacious friends to handle this sort of situation, but he's all alone here—and he knows this person. Kind of. Give him a second to turn and squint...]
Ah. You.
[And this is where a nice person should say something like, nice to see you again! Have you settled in? But Felix is Felix, and thus Felix quietly snorts as he reaches for his drink. An extra spicy Moscow Mule! Yeehaw.]
You've been quieter, lately. Good. [A sip.] No more furniture to move?
[Hi, yes, his name is Felix, this is surely how one Conversates.]
[Ah, recognition! How charming. Better than being terribly embarrassed in this almost vacant bar, surely... Anyway.]
Me! Call me Constantin.
[You know, in case Felix forgot the name of Loud Upstairs Guy. It's a little of that and a little of don't-call-me-you-you-little-punk, but he makes it sound like it's just a helpful reminder.]
But indeed, yes, I am all out of furniture to push around. Pity, as there's hardly anything else to do around here.
[Hence how he is here, drinking Wine, and now clunks the whole-ass bottle onto the table next to his more modest, reasonable person glass. He will drink this whole bottle out of boredom, perhaps? Maybe? He's made a decent showing already. He takes a sip from his reasonable glass and, hmm--]
Still— you never know! I could tip over an armoire at any time just to keep you on your toes.
[You know, because he turned up with a Sword last time... and Connie definitely can't tip over a big piece of furniture without bruising himself, but it's the principle.]
[That is... the cutest cat Felix has seen in ages. The only cat Felix has seen in ages? Whatever! What matters is that the cat is a sight for sore eyes, and Felix studies the picture for a moment, marveling at its... picture-purrfect-ness...]
[ okay. so it's not like working at the stables is an actual full time job? like, sylvain spends a majority of his time there, yes, because he's a horse girl at heart and cleaning stables and interacting with the chocobos is great! annette is working too, and that's just a bonus, so yes, this is their routine: felix goes to train and explore and sylvain works at the stables and finds food for them. is it a little grossly domestic? probably, but it just works, alright.
anyway, what's different about today is that sylvain comes home a little later than usual, the reason felix will shortly discover once he actually gets the door open. if felix listens closely, he'll hear sylvain's familiar laughter on the other side before he finally comes in a few minutes later, sporting a weirdly shaped lump in his shirt and a basket. the "lump" pops up from sylvain's collar to reveal the small head of an edmundion puppy, furiously determined to cover sylvain's chin and jaw with kisses.
[Their arrangement does indeed work, which is why Felix gives it, like, absolutely no thought? He comes home—"home," this spruced-up space that is temporarily theirs—at the end of each day and finds Sylvain puttering about in the kitchen, or lounging on the couch, or doing who knows what in his room. It's normal.
What's, ah, less than normal is walking into an empty apartment, and while Felix isn't so stupid as to worry about Sylvain—well, you know. It's quiet. And Felix likes quiet, generally, but as Felix pokes through the unoccupied rooms, Felix finds that this shared space sans Sylvain is just... it's missing something. A warmth that is wholly Sylvain™.
But that's so cheesy as to be ridiculous, and thus Felix bounces from task to task, unable to sit still even as he heads to the kitchen to grab a pouch of smoked meat he keeps in the cabinet. He is, in fact, pacing about the kitchen, chewing all the while, when he hears that telltale laughter, and listen: there's no time to unpack why the sound makes him feel better. There isn't. There's no reason to stand as he listens to Sylvain fumble with the lock, and yes, fine, maybe he's growing more and more suspicious as to why Sylvain is even laughing in the first place, but still, he is unconcerned—
—until a lumpier-than-normal Sylvain strides into the living room? Grinning like a fool, which makes Felix, naturally, want to head to his room in a stupidly surly fashion, but ah, ah, ah. It's like the dog knows precisely when to pop its little head out, and as Felix takes in the sight of a furry creature showering Sylvain with affection... ah, shit. Brain: broke.]
You— [Well. More importantly:] Where did you find that?
[That being a puppy, but Felix hasn't seen anything other than one (1) cat and far too many fucking chocobos in a month; forgive him for being somewhat shell-shocked as he peers at this pup from across the room. He is Rebooting.]
[ sylvain has now moved further into the apartment after setting down the basket, trying to carefully wrestle the puppy out of his shirt and still grinning like a fool when he looks up at felix just as the puppy does, and look at that—two idiots, it's like they're twins. ]
I found this guy in a basket at the stables earlier, [ the puppy makes a little bark as if confirming it, wriggling around in sylvain's hands as he tries to get free. he wants to explore and this big human isn't letting him! ] Do you remember that dog that hung around Mercedes' room for a while back at the monastery? I think this little guy was from the litter of puppies she had before we left for Enbarr.
[ he steps closer to felix, cradling the puppy in the crook of his arm carefully. the pup stretches out as far as he can from where he's held in an attempt to sniff and investigate felix. ]
He's cute, isn't he? Maybe we can keep him for now. What do you think?
[It's a picture, completely without explanation, except of course for how it's 2am and Connie is awake, ergo: pic time. That explanation is implied. Look at these friends, Felix.
[Jesus Christ, Connie, but some people are trying to rest. Or: Felix is still a light sleeper, thanks to the war, and thus Felix wakes up to squint at this... image...]
Yes.
[That's it, Good Night—except not really. Just give him, like, a minute to blink. To will himself awake-ish.]
[ hello! please welcome your unsolicited gift! our favorite grump will receive a pair of black leather gloves. ...she wanted to gift him something a little more exciting (obnoxious), but she'd rather he actually use whatever she went out of her way to get him in the first place. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
closes my eyes
Fe, come here for a sec.
[ when felix makes his way over, he'll find sylvain pulling out a bunch of cocktail swords of different varieties. it's actually kind of a ridiculous amount? how did he manage to bring home this many?? did he actually order than many drinks to get that many cocktail swords??? it's a mystery. ]
I saw these at the bar and I thought of you, [ he says, completely seriously as he starts rearranging them by size and length from shortest to longest. sorry he's a neat freak who likes to be organized. ] They're kinda cool, right?
you did this to yourself
And maybe, just maybe, that's because Felix is selfishly grateful to have Sylvain with him in this wild world. It would be better, of course, if Sylvain were back in Faerghus, ensuring everything is running smoothly—but no, no. He's here, and he's pulling bright something-or-others out of his pocket as Felix obligingly wanders over to stand beside him, and Felix feels a disgusting swell of affection as he plucks one of Sylvain's offerings off the counter. I thought of you.]
...Rapiers.
[Holding it up to the light, he cants his head, squinting a bit while he studies this tiny, too-bright thing.]
The proportions are off. The hilt alone... [...Hmm. He ends that thought with a short hum, lowering his hand as he glances back down at the many, many cocktail swords Sylvain is fussing with. Stupid, he thinks, and yet—well! Look at them! He's not leaning a tad closer to get a better view of the assortment, do not @ him.] ...How many did you steal?
[For him? For him. This idiot.]
shut
but one thing is for certain: nothing comes close to the simple pleasure of just standing side by side with felix, studying these bright little toothpick swords beneath the glow of the kitchen light. sylvain watches him pick up one, sees the tiny change in his expression that belies his interest despite what he says, and sylvain feels inexplicably pleased with himself. not that he had any doubts, when it comes to felix, but it's nice. it's always nice seeing him interested in something. ]
No idea, I kind of lost count. [ he chuckles as he shifts to lean his hip against the counter once he's done rearranging, giving felix a little more room to check out the rest of his collection. ] And I didn't steal them. I mean, the glasses were empty and they were just sitting there, you know. It would've been a shame if they got thrown out.
😘
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text, un: lottieperson
xoxo
1/2 enjoy ur shitty nickname, lottie... the turns have tabled...
Ah. The messy girl.
I couldn't agree more.
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[is that a tHREAT]
the poetic irony..!!!
awesome. SO totally happy u agree!
thought you'd try and argue w/ me bc of how sad you seemed
glad we could come to an agreement :)
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hgtv's extreme makeover: sex island edition
but anyway, this is all just a lead up to the main event, which is... deep cleaning their apartment. like, okay, it's not nearly as dusty as it was when they first found it? but there is only so much grime sylvain can take before his neat freak kicks in, so here they are. ]
Come on, Fe, it's just like back at the Academy. [ he has borrowed some cleaning supplies from the chocobo stables: a few buckets, two brooms and two mops, a few towels. at least their apartment isn't that big; sylvain is confident that they'll be able to finish well before noon. hopefully. ] Didn't the Professor make you pull weeds and clean the stables for those group activities? Or was that just me?
i hate this
...Ugh. He would prefer to go clean and oil his sword, so.]
Just you, [Felix says, uncharitably, between bites.] I took my training seriously, Sylvain.
[And the only trouble he got into was trouble Sylvain dragged him into, so, you know. Byleth forced him to work with others, it's true, but Byleth never assigned extra chores because he was, say, a lazy womanizer. Funny how that works!
But anyway, as Felix turns to take in their admittedly dusty apartment:]
Everything looks clean.
[Like, compared to... a mud-covered tent in the middle of a war camp? It's all relative, bud.]
u wanted it
[ probably because byleth knew ingrid would keep sylvain in line, but whatever! the point still stands. no one was exempt from chores back then and no one is exempt from chores here, either.
so to felix's argument: sylvain walks up next to him, getting into his personal space just so he can brush one finger over the table felix is eating at. it comes away coated with a layer of dust, and the table now has a distinctly clear stripe over it. ]
You sure about that?
i regret it
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rowdy boy delivery
Which is why, while Constantin is in the bar waiting for people to show up, and Felix is probably in the bar because there are not so many people at all, he beelines right over. A familiar face! Kind of! That is something.
Anyway, hi, he's here and he's sitting down and now it's Social Time, buddy.]
Hello again! Your name was Felix, wasn't it? We met when you came upstairs to scold me for living too loudly.
[Did Constantin climb over the back of a shitty couch mostly blocking his own apartment door to receive this scolding? You bet. He worked it out!]
where are my 4 emails, instacart... i need a refund
But no one is singing shit tonight, which means that Felix hasn't just nursed a drink; he's downed, like, two drinks in an attempt to hurry things along. Maybe three drinks? It doesn't matter. What does matter is that he's in a nice place when someone drops down beside him and, horror of horrors, actually addresses him. He's not good at conversation; usually he relies on one of his more loquacious friends to handle this sort of situation, but he's all alone here—and he knows this person. Kind of. Give him a second to turn and squint...]
Ah. You.
[And this is where a nice person should say something like, nice to see you again! Have you settled in? But Felix is Felix, and thus Felix quietly snorts as he reaches for his drink. An extra spicy Moscow Mule! Yeehaw.]
You've been quieter, lately. Good. [A sip.] No more furniture to move?
[Hi, yes, his name is Felix, this is surely how one Conversates.]
you only get 4 emails when you return him :/
Me! Call me Constantin.
[You know, in case Felix forgot the name of Loud Upstairs Guy. It's a little of that and a little of don't-call-me-you-you-little-punk, but he makes it sound like it's just a helpful reminder.]
But indeed, yes, I am all out of furniture to push around. Pity, as there's hardly anything else to do around here.
[Hence how he is here, drinking Wine, and now clunks the whole-ass bottle onto the table next to his more modest, reasonable person glass. He will drink this whole bottle out of boredom, perhaps? Maybe? He's made a decent showing already. He takes a sip from his reasonable glass and, hmm--]
Still— you never know! I could tip over an armoire at any time just to keep you on your toes.
[You know, because he turned up with a Sword last time... and Connie definitely can't tip over a big piece of furniture without bruising himself, but it's the principle.]
hmm... which is better: connie, or a loaf of bread
does the fact that it was garlic bread help or hinder his case
can anyone compare to garlic bread? alas, poor connie...
top 10 anime breadtrayals
fun analogy time: connie is to a croissant as felix is to _____
bagel chips. why is connie a croissant
tender, flaky layers. buttery and a lil sweet. duh. why bagel chips
they're bread which is good but also unpleasant in practice, obviously
hmm! also acceptable: a chip is flat and brittle and so, too, is felix's nonexistent ass
they're the cryptids of bread products so felix's ass is the same. blurry in pictures, maybe fake...
so if you had to pick a specific cryptid... 🤔
slenderman, specifically the edgy middle school kids kind
excellent... well, connie is the mothman, so.
hmm! hate it! you're not wrong
were you thinking persona mothman... because he's persona mothman
🦋😔 there's no moth emoji so it's pensive butterfly...... anyway this is bullying :/
tell me i'm wrong! i'm waiting!
you: princess argument meme
text; un: blaiddyd you know what this is
Felix, meet Hugo.
boop... 1/2
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Hugo?
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don't look at me
anyway, what's different about today is that sylvain comes home a little later than usual, the reason felix will shortly discover once he actually gets the door open. if felix listens closely, he'll hear sylvain's familiar laughter on the other side before he finally comes in a few minutes later, sporting a weirdly shaped lump in his shirt and a basket. the "lump" pops up from sylvain's collar to reveal the small head of an edmundion puppy, furiously determined to cover sylvain's chin and jaw with kisses.
hi, hello, honey he's home. ]
👁️👁️
What's, ah, less than normal is walking into an empty apartment, and while Felix isn't so stupid as to worry about Sylvain—well, you know. It's quiet. And Felix likes quiet, generally, but as Felix pokes through the unoccupied rooms, Felix finds that this shared space sans Sylvain is just... it's missing something. A warmth that is wholly Sylvain™.
But that's so cheesy as to be ridiculous, and thus Felix bounces from task to task, unable to sit still even as he heads to the kitchen to grab a pouch of smoked meat he keeps in the cabinet. He is, in fact, pacing about the kitchen, chewing all the while, when he hears that telltale laughter, and listen: there's no time to unpack why the sound makes him feel better. There isn't. There's no reason to stand as he listens to Sylvain fumble with the lock, and yes, fine, maybe he's growing more and more suspicious as to why Sylvain is even laughing in the first place, but still, he is unconcerned—
—until a lumpier-than-normal Sylvain strides into the living room? Grinning like a fool, which makes Felix, naturally, want to head to his room in a stupidly surly fashion, but ah, ah, ah. It's like the dog knows precisely when to pop its little head out, and as Felix takes in the sight of a furry creature showering Sylvain with affection... ah, shit. Brain: broke.]
You— [Well. More importantly:] Where did you find that?
[That being a puppy, but Felix hasn't seen anything other than one (1) cat and far too many fucking chocobos in a month; forgive him for being somewhat shell-shocked as he peers at this pup from across the room. He is Rebooting.]
stop
I found this guy in a basket at the stables earlier, [ the puppy makes a little bark as if confirming it, wriggling around in sylvain's hands as he tries to get free. he wants to explore and this big human isn't letting him! ] Do you remember that dog that hung around Mercedes' room for a while back at the monastery? I think this little guy was from the litter of puppies she had before we left for Enbarr.
[ he steps closer to felix, cradling the puppy in the crook of his arm carefully. the pup stretches out as far as he can from where he's held in an attempt to sniff and investigate felix. ]
He's cute, isn't he? Maybe we can keep him for now. What do you think?
nah
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i had this typed up for hours in a tab? i forgot to hit post, what the fuck
text
( Let her send you some sword oil, Felix. She's sorry she broke one of your vials, okay. :C)
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I don't want it.
[Instantaneous. But a beat later, because Felix definitely has his priorities in order:]
Who is this?
video; bask in her presence
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the plant text of legend
Then, eventually:]
Too many??
blessed... i'm ready for gardening cr
Yes.
[That's it, Good Night—except not really. Just give him, like, a minute to blink. To will himself awake-ish.]
Yours?
All of them?
let's get those green thumbs
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here's a tag about eating succulents. my peak
would connie actually eat a succulent... i hate it here
the cute colorful ones? hmmmm
Delivery!
Happy Holidays, Felix!
Hope these will help you stay warm.
Love,
Hilda ♥