#waywardthief
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Ghost | Eliwood & Matthew
Continued from here.
@waywardthief
waywardthief
Matthew had opted to take a drink with him, and he nursed it quietly as they wandered away from the life and noise of the festivities. Finally, after a long, contemplative sip, he broke the silence: “Nothing quite like a crisp autumn, don’t you think?” He flashed a sheepish grin then. “Hope you don’t mind my dragging you out here, milord. I needed some air and… you kind of looked like maybe you could, too. My apologies if I guessed wrong. But! There’s a place just round the corner I spied last year, hereabouts - a beautiful place! I’m sure you might appreciate it.”
However, something about the woods felt odd. Come to think of it, that wasn’t so far removed from how they’d been at last year’s party. Swatting aside the strange sense of deja vu washing over him, he turned to lead on further, and came up short. She was a wisp in the corner of his peripheral gaze, but that shadow, all too familiar, was enough to stop him in his tracks.
“Leila…?”
Matthew’s drink clattered forgotten on the forest floor and he left behind only the pounding sound of his footsteps as he sprinted away, certain of what he’d seen. “Leila!”
The ginger-haired lord laughed softly, his cheeks tinting a light pink from cold air surrounding them. Though it wasn’t uncomfortable, it was enough for Eliwood to pull his cloak around him just a bit closer, attempting to better retain his body heat.
“Not at all, Matthew. I admit, I was beginning to feel overwhelmed. A brief respite is greatly appreciated.” He replied, glancing at their surroundings quietly, silently grateful for the spy’s guidance. In environments such as this, it was far too easy to become lost. It was Matthew’s sudden stop that captured Eliwood’s attention and the lord turned to him, wearing a concerned expression. He parted his lips to speak, but his words fell in his throat when he heard the spy utter a familiar name. Leila. The image of the maiden’s corpse, displayed as a warning, was burned into his mind forever. The anguish it had brought to the spy mirrored the misery he endured at the loss of his wife. Then, Matthew dropped his glass, sprinting off without explanation.
“Matthew!? Matthew, pray, wait!” He stretched out his arm, but Matthew had already bounded further into the woods, ignoring his calls. With one last glance back, he propelled himself forward, attempting to keep up with the spy’s pace.
When he finally caught up to him, he was breathless, and required a moment to breath, his hands on his knees. He straightened when his lungs stopped burning, studying the surroundings. They had come to a pond, situated in the woods surrounding them. There was a fog that crept over the waters edges, sending a chill down the lord’s spine unrelated to the cold.
On the other side, he saw nothing, but to Matthew’s eyes, there Leila was. Her arm stretched outward, beckoning him forward.
“Matthew, pray, what’s gotten into you?” He asked exasperated, grabbing hold of his shoulder.
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A Newly Founded Marquess and His Retainer | Hector & Matthew
@waywardthief
Hector knew that he needed to try and better his reputation now that he was the Marquess of Ostia, but he was still in the mindset that he was only a lord and Uther was the one who dealt with all the diplomacy that he didn’t want to. He knew that he should have taken his retainer’s words a little more seriously, but he couldn’t help but let out another short laugh at the thought. Most of the people that he encountered already thought that he was brash and very impulsive, not very becoming qualities that someone who was in charge wanted to be seen as having.
“Ah, what are you so worried for, Matthew! So what if they accuse me of having a one-track mind? They should just mind their own business and worry about what they’re doing instead of telling me how I should think and all that. Besides, how would you like to be stuck sitting with those old men talking about the same thing over and over again? They forgot what it’s like to be young and want to go out to battle!” He exclaimed with nothing but vigor in his voice.
He grabbed his axe and threw it over his shoulder, almost like as if the weight of the axe was comparable to that of a feather. He knew that sparring with him could be intimating, especially since he typically used brute force, but he would never do anything to hurt his friend. “While I know that sparring with me can be intimidating, at least Eliwood is man enough to do it, but I understand if you’d rather now.” He said with a smirk, a teasing tone only trying to goad his friend into sparring with him.
#waywardthief#A newly founded marquess and his retainer#//sorry for the long title I couldn't think of a more creative one ;n;#//hec just really wants to fight XD
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Bath bomb & succulent?~
Succulent - What are you looking forward to?
Bath bomb - What is the best form of self care?
Poking at the fire, Genny shivered a bit, despite the warm magic that ran through her body. “I’m looking forward to going somewhere warmer. I miss Novis, where it’s always sunny and warm and not...” She gestures at the frosty forest around her. “Not this frozen, dull wasteland. Right now I feel like the best form of self care would be a hot bath with scented oils. As soon as I am back in civilization, I am hunting one down.”
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🍇 - "Oh, hey! Cute costume." Certainly, she seemed to be doing better than the last they'd met. Maybe the lack of bandits in the area had something to do with it. "D'you like candy, by any chance? I've somehow wound up with far too much for my own good."
“Ah… thank you, Matthew…” Myrrh curled her lips up in a smile. “My friends helped me create it…” She reached up to readjust her headband. “Although it is a little hard to keep this costume together…”
Candy… she did enjoy sweet things, but she had not had much candy. She tilted her head.
“I can take some candy if you can’t finish it all,” Myrrh offered softly. “Besides, I haven’t had much candy yet… I’d like to try it…”
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🔥 - Magvel, a great source for spooky stories? Nahh...
‘Care to share a story, my lady? Surely there are many desert tales to be told from the mercenary nation.’
Ismaire nodded, leaning forward ever so slightly before the fire. A mischievous light flickered in her eyes as the dancing of the flames cast mysterious shadows across her face. She began.
“There are those among us who carry idols or sigils to protect against the unseen. For a blade drenched in an enemy’s blood is bound to attract the wrath of an unforgiving spirit or two…
“One such spirit in our culture is born of souls bound for the underworld that, while seeking their final vengeance, are transformed into powerful creatures with the ability to warp the very fabric of our reality.
“They say some variations of this devil can even grant wishes. For a price.”
Ismaire drew closer to the person that first asked her to speak, her eyes glowing ominously with what any rational person would assume was the light of the crackling fire nearby.
“Tell me. If you could have anything that your heart desired, what would you wish for?”
#ferpxhalloween#waywardthief#{ hc : jehanna }#[[Ifrit Ismaire! But not really.]] [[Also sorry it's not much of a scary story as much as it's just a spooky myth/superstition.]]#icask#drabbles#oneshot
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🍸 - "Hey pal, don't think I've seen your mug round before! Care for a drink?" It was, after all, the perfect night for making new friends.
Ephraim’s lips quirk upwards at the informal speech, already certain this stranger is going to be more entertaining than most of the overly serious or stuck up people he interacts with on a regular basis – not naming any names, of course. To be honest he wouldn’t mind having a few drinks and letting himself relax, something he hasn’t managed much lately. Being able to talk to someone with no ties to his friends or family (that he knows of) will be the perfect opportunity to unwind.
“Are you paying? Seems too good to be true.”
#waywardthief#ask#//oh man I have so many of these asks that my replies have gotta be short#//but if you wanna reply and expand it I'll go longer next time laughs#//just trying to get em out of the way#ferpxhalloween
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Needles & Failure & Number 13?~
Does your muse have astrong stomach?
Yes, but it certainlydidn’t start this way – after his first skirmish with bandits, he actuallyvomited at the sight of some of the gruesome injuries. But his stomachhas steeled with time, and he has managed to cast these thoughts aside withexperience.
Modern AU Forsyth iscertainly weak-stomached. He loves watching fantasy and historical films filledwith battle scenes, but he has to hold a cushion over his eyes during the gorybits.
Does your muse believeany superstitions?
Not at all; Forsyththinks these are rather preposterous. There are more important matters at hand, after all, then worrying about ladders and black cats.
Has your muse ever givenup on an important dream?
This is something that will only happen should Forsyth suffer an event whichleaves him inconsolable – such as the death of Python, where hisdisillusionment becomes clear. Otherwise, Forsyth will hold true to his dreams,even against impossible odds.
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[ 💘 : asking their crush out ] “... it’s... been awhile...”
Advice Time
Setsuna thought that was a very serious conversation for people stuck in a hole. She turned to him to make a joke, but paused when she saw his face. He looked upset. She frowned, then shrugged, then turned back.
“I dunno...it would depend on the person, wouldn’t it? It’s probably for the best to do something they would like. And not everyone likes the same things. So I couldn’t tell you.”
She wondered if there was someone. He seemed awfully sad about it for someone who was considering asking someone out. But prying like that felt too personal without being willing to share in return and Setsuna kept those worms in a tightly sealed bucket. “Give them something nice I guess? Or take them somewhere they’d like...”
Or become their retainer and never confess and live for years in repressed silence. That was working lovely for her.
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“What are you afraid of?”
“I’m afraid that I’ll outlive everyone who cares about me. I already know I’m going to outlive Father, but Lilina, and Wolt, and Cecilia…sometimes my dragon heritage feels like a burden over something exciting. I wish I had Fae’s childish wonder sometimes, and her excitement over this.”
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☂ ?~
Describe meme
Sadness :
Extroverted. It’s projected outward because he doesn’t know what to do with it inside. Frustration toward objects, toward other people, cynicism, a greater need for control over the things around him, etc. If he had more friends/acquaintances, he would withdraw from them, but the only people he really talks to are Rinea (who unfortunately feels the brunt of his frustration) and his soldiers. His sadness tends to go unnoticed by all but those closest to him (if recognized, it’s likely to be mistaken for frustration instead), and if asked, he would say he prefers it that way. Emotions are weakness, after all. No matter how many times he tells himself that though, he still can’t help that he’s naturally a very emotional person.
As a child, he wore his heart on his sleeve and cried frequently. It was natural and cathartic, and his mood would improve more quickly after the outburst. His mother strongly discouraged it though and made him ashamed of himself for feeling... anything. He couldn’t own his emotions; they controlled him, she said, and it would do the Empire no good to be led by an emperor who could be so easily controlled (ha ha ha irony). He stopped crying (Rinea has seen him though) but his sadness found its way out in breaking tableware, dismembering training dummies, and/or punching walls. Things his mother, oddly enough, didn’t have a problem with. Showing your strength is Rigelian, but crying is weak and un-Rigelian.
Self-esteem, self-image, disappointment from others, criticism, etc. set off this self-destructive behavior more than things like death, which he’s grown desensitized to. He’s most conscious of his external displays, and has still yet to realize that he punishes himself in lieu of his mother’s strict discipline by training more, sleeping less, eating less, etc.
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🍹 ?~
OOC//I have a huge sweet tooth, so I really enjoy drinking sweet drinks. I enjoy cream soda and root beer the most though!
I also forget to drink water so I have like multiple reminders set up for that.
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From Kanna Speaks Meme.
@waywardthief
“You bet I do! And I bet I can say it even better than you Matthew~ I thought a thought. But the thought I thought wasn't the thought I thought I thought. If the thought I thought I thought hadn’t been the thought I thought, I wouldn't have thought so much.”
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😙 😑 ?~
😙 - what was the first character you ever roleplayed as?
God. Long long ago I used to rp as cats on the Warrior Cats forums. The Official Ones, that I hear have long since been removed. Later, on YouTube, I think I rped as some Soul Eater Characters, though I can’t remember the specifics too well. The first sort of serious rp gig I did was AskNekostonia on deviant art, one of those askblog type deals for a cat version of Estonia from Hetalia. The first tumblr rp blog I ever had was Amaterasu from Okami; this blog is actually the same account/email and all, but it’s obviously been completely overhauled.
😑- what is one character you refuse to roleplay as and why?
In general I refuse to play as villains because I just… can’t work up a fondness for them.
if I have to name a specific one at the moment, Hardin. Wouldn’t touch that.
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Wounded Healer||Dwyer & Matthew
@waywardthief
After assisting a Thief in need, Dwyer was able to stay in a nearby village for several nights. However, he was running low on the gold that was given to him, so he set off with his horse, Staff, and a bit of food he bought. With a sigh, he moved along deeper into a country he knew naught of. Bern, was it?
As they day grew late, the Troubadour was near dozing when he heard fighting in the distance. With a grumble, he figured he’d have to get through wherever the fighting was in order to find shelter. Whipping the reins, Dwyer’s grip around his Staff tightened as Nova turned a corner and people in the distance were seen. They were clashing through a mountain pass. If he attempted to rush through the conflict, he’d surely put himself in danger. He didn’t want to fight either. With a huff through his nose, he decided to rush around the perimeter. Really, he was too tired to think of any other options.
However, before he could get any closer, a hidden Sniper in the distance fired an arrow. Dwyer let out a pained yelp as the arrow dug in between his shoulder blades. From the sudden lurch and loud noise, Nova bolted forward into the battle, maneuvering around people clashing Swords.
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💝 💚 ?~
Relationship Meme
💝How long until they feel secure and comfortable in a relationship?Ahahahahahaha -ahem- Seth is a highly suspicious person by nature, and he is not comfortable with emotional vulnerability, so I imagine it would take a fair bit of time. His partner’s social rank would probably also play into it. If they’re equal or lower standing than him, he’ll probably have fewer qualms than if they’re of a higher social status than him.
💚Are they prone to jealousy?Surprisingly, no. Given his dedication to his career, I think Seth is used to denying himself things that he may want in pursuit of the greater good. He would probably be more likely to be saddened by the idea of his partner leaving than to get jealous of who they might be leaving him for.
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Curses & solitude?~
Curses: Does your muse believe in good/bad luck? How about karma?
I kind of answered this already in this one, but while I don’t think Ephraim believes in luck, I think to some extent he unconsciously believes in karma. However, at the same time, he doesn’t think he’s received enough karmic retribution for some of his actions, which fills him with that constant gnawing guilt.
Solitude: Name 3 things your muse couldn’t live without.
1. His sister, who provides him with support and grounds him.
2. Some form or another of combat or training in which he can stretch his physical prowess, though he knows that’s not what he should prioritize as king.
3. Confidence in himself, which is kind of a strange answer, but he thrives off his unshakable confidence to an almost unhealthy degree. Once he starts to doubt his actions, that’s when he gets consumed with guilt and questions whether anything he’s done was the right thing. Doubt is very unfamiliar to him, and it scares him a little bit.
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