Achronum

The Gifted - Concluded

James Kingston

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Location: Dining Room
Skills: N/A

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James shot Echo an unimpressed look at his comment. There were absolutely no extra kisses for Echo; all of his were Casper's and Casper's only. Echo probably meant it "all in good fun" kinda way but James knew it was only a matter of time until everyone else saw Casper the way he did. Quirky, energetic, loyal, and attractive as fuck, James found his boyfriend, wierd and traumatic past included, absolutely adorable. The man woke up everyday and faced his literal fears without relying on his self destructive crutches and most of Mutant Underground treated him like a carnival show. Bravest one out of all of them, in James' opinion. James wasn’t certain he’d have the same perseverance in his shoes. James still woke up in the middle of the night sobbing because his own ghosts crept in when he was most vulnerable. Fuck what Wanda made him into.

James focused on the issue at hand, pushing that mess of emotions out of the way. No time like the present to ignore your problems. He frowned as he counted the people who joined Veil's team. Sapphire and Luna and two of the new girls all jumped on after James decided. James definitely wasn't comfortable letting two unknowns, or lesser known considering their tussle this morning, run on a mission involving the Hellfire but he trusted Veil and if she trusted them to figure themselves out, he'd roll with that. Still, they'd overshot Veil's original numbers. The group had to prioritize stealth over numbers so James reconsidered. Since Sapphire followed the only one who tolerated her like a stray puppy, that would be two sets of skills on one team. That left the others without a patcher upper and that was dangerous too.

“Since the other group's filled up, I'll swap over to the rescue mission. Don't want to leave you guys without a medic." James decided, untangling himself from Casper now that they were ready to set out. He leaned over and hugged Luna tight. “Congrats on being cured. Let’s hang out now that you aren’t dying once everyone gets back. Stay safe please.” James let her go and slipped his hand into Casper’s, tugging him out after Spark Plug.

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

---

Clarissa permitted herself a moment to bask in the tolling of the bells. Hearing them was always a comfort, like a brief moment of sunshine on days the cold seeped wet and bitter deep into the bones. The sound drew her attention skyward. Her smile softened involuntarily from polite and pleasant to something smaller, more personal and warm. As a child, she always imagined the voice of the Goddess whispering in the bells of her church at home. It was a comforting belief and despite having put that away as childish fantasy, the security and relief it provided still crept back in. Now she just heard it as the soul of the church, an extension of everything it stood for to offer those who needed it most a moment of respite in the chaos and confusion of the everyday monotony.

She only lingered a moment though. Once she’d collected herself again, she briskly settled at the front of the classroom. She found she didn’t quite know what to make of Professor Roland. He seemed soft and absent headed but the solemnity with which he opened the class stuck with her. He spoke of impending discord and instability in the same breath as unity and togetherness and it was quite the emotional back and forth. She did strongly agree on one point; the time for tradition was over. As they entered new territory, they would have to adapt and grow and shed the trappings of yesterday for the sake of the future. And if the Church believed something darkened the horizon, then the sooner they embraced it, the better.

Though she wondered why the Archbishop himself felt the need to organize this unit. If fostering unity between the nations was the Professor’s goal and he already admitted there were several heirs and royals in attendance, it would have made sense for the Professor to put anyone would would have even the slightest impact on national policy in the same unit. Why did the Archbishop feel it necessary to intervene? The question bothered her but she’d put it aside for now. She’d ask Professor Roland after class.

The other professor proved an interesting collection. While she didn’t get much other than a growing distaste for being here from Professor Malathice, she certainly agreed with his sentiments about Professor Michail. Boisterous and sophomoric, she would prefer to impale herself on her own sword than allow him to treat her like a six year old on her first social outing. He was not her parents and she certainly didn’t need him facilitating her social connections anymore than she needed a horse panicking while she tried to bush it. She’d hoped any of the other Professors would have shut it down but each one fell dutifully in step with one another despite the jabs taken at Michail. She sighed and stood, smoothing her skirt to collect her thoughts before she spoke.

“Clarissa von Edmund, heiress to the Margravate of Edmund of the Leicester Alliance. I enjoy horseback riding, scripture reading, and debating over evening tea but I despise liars and the indecisive. I fully believe that whatever distresses our Professors, the Goddess has put us all here for a reason and I am honored to have the opportunity to grow into those expectations with all of you.” Clarissa bowed her head and curtsied as she finished, settling back into her seat for the next person to introduce themselves.

Of Blood and Magic

_{December 7th, 6:35am - The Sinnenodel Dorm}

Out with the old and in with the new. How fascinating. Varis approved of the Count’s departure from typical Eve indecisiveness, despite his overwhelming lack of confidence in his own ability to direct the family he would have taken over in the direction he wanted. If he hadn’t the allies to support his position, or the foresight to protect himself, his tenure as Lord would be short indeed, revolutionary ideals aside. Varis couldn’t resist a chuckle at the absurdity of the Eve’s concerns, however. Varis boasted a target of his own as he sat swapping pleasantries and this child balked at the thought of assassination in the future. He wouldn’t get far with that attitude.

Some odd 70 years later and Count Benjamin’s story still struck an irritably familiar chord in Varis. Many of his most pleasant memories revolved around the mage who birthed him despite how infrequently he recalled them. Of course he had a few tokens from her time in this world but he considered that out of appreciation for his overall existence rather than any sentimental desire to cherish those moments. Still, it was all he could do not to grind his fangs together as he realized he could… relate. Disgusting.

“I hadn’t known you held modernist leanings; I doubt a traditionalist considers mages an appropriate motivator. But I suppose you aren’t wrong entirely. Change has been long overdue.” Varis agreed, sipping at the blood in the glass. The fact he didn’t immediately vomit at the taste brought out a hum of approval. “So if you haven't used these long nights to educate yourself nor have you established a considerable presence among your family and peers, what have you spent your life doing so far Count? I can’t imagine you brood quietly at your windows and compose pretty words on paper in an ivory tower. You don’t seem the sheltered kind.”

---

Maddie chuckled at Max’s sarcastic reply. She supposed thinking about what could have been was an exercise in futility but it didn’t mean the occasional daydream wouldn’t insist on it. She nodded at Lilie as she excused herself, sending her a reassuring smile before returning her attention to Salem. She chuckled again. “Are you saying you think our Professors are just here for show? Most of the ones I’ve had are good. Weird but good. Though, I’m starting to think mages as a group are just a little strange. Maybe we’ll all be like that after getting a better grip on our abilities. My affinity mastery professor for my Life Magic training has me sing like a two minute song while I stretch just so I can sit at a chair and direct my magic around a dummy and I have no idea why. I asked and she said it's for safety purposes and that’s about it. Still don’t know why I do it.”

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

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@Kestrel@Hero@Eleven

Surprise and curiosity, and a touch of guilt at that, bloomed at Isolde’s introduction. House Ordelia’s disastrous fall happened before Clarissa stepped fully onto the political stage so she’d only really known Jorah at the time. They’d crossed paths of course but only briefly at Roundtable and even then, she’d normally spend her time with her childhood friend. She only remembered Isolde being the child that hid behind her father’s legs whenever she could. Perhaps she ought to have committed more to memory; Clarissa felt awful she hadn’t even remembered her name, had no passing twinge of recognition.

Honestly, Clarissa hadn’t thought about the other at all since she was eleven at least but now that she had an Ordelia in front of her, she couldn’t help but be curious about their circumstances. Was she here to learn tactics and warfare to be useful to her family? She seemed shy and withdrawn but it didn’t mean she didn’t have potential; she could just need to adjust to shine. Or was she here to find a marriage partner? Clarissa seriously doubted that the family’s official innocence shone brightly enough to distract from the blemish on their recent history but someone outside the Alliance would likely focus on the connections they could offer, especially if Isolde commanded a crest. What better time to cultivate an arrangement than a year of forced proximity to potential suitors?

“It’ll be an interesting experience learning together, Isolde, Imogen.” Clarissa kept the questions that were burning on the tip of her tongue at bay. No need to pry so early on but she was so, so curious. Imogen, on the other hand, inspired none of that. The pink haired girl dispelled her earlier thought that she may belong with the Gonriels with her informal introduction and Clarissa commended herself for resisting the urge to frown. They were classmates but they hadn’t even known each other for half a day. Nicknames already? And what kind of nonsense was she spewing? Of course they weren’t eating Wyverns. Clarissa could feel future headaches coming already; it was a different shade of Jorah and one already made her consider a long walk off a short pier sometimes.

“Thank you. Father recommended it as a way to clear my head when I couldn’t afford a few hours of riding but I’ve found it more enjoyable than I thought I would.” Clarissa nodded her appreciation at the observation. This group would prove… interesting this year. Clarissa was confident that they could overcome anything that the other House threw at them but she also hoped that the Goddess blessed the Black Eagles and the Blue Lions with some airheads of their own. Preferably several.

The Gifted - Concluded

James Kingston

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Location: Dining Room
Skills: N/A

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“Is that from personal experience, babes? That doesn’t sound very safe.” James chuckled at the comparison. Despite his boyfriend’s disdain for his father, James couldn’t very well get upset over Xavier sending them cures―super devil or not. He’d run headlong into dangerous missions all day if it meant everyone here was safe from a horrific decline into a sudden death. James beamed at the kiss, consent to snuggle with Casper for a minute while they had the chance. If only it could be longer than the five minutes. James might be riding a euphoria high now but he’d pieced back together a few injuries on top of Echo’s spinal cord and he was going to be sluggish without at least a nap, food or not.

Waverly volunteering herself to retrieve Sunshine wasn’t unexpected. He just hoped her working relationship with blunt force objects wouldn’t make itself known to Max while he was out of it. He wanted to go with her too; the whole situation probably had them both on edge and mixing those two while scared or angry was just asking for a bad time. He wanted to volunteer for that mission as well, if for no other reason than to make sure both of them were okay. He really wanted to but the fact of the matter was that it was the lower risk mission. Even if it was a trap, the Underground had made it out of a purifier attack involving tear gas with most of their members ill with M-Pox. Handling the Hellfire club though? As risky as it got. They had some serious heavyweights, if Magneto’s little display was anything to go by, so having someone who could help counter some of those lasting issues would benefit that team incredibly. Imagine if James hadn’t been around to help Echo at the time.

“I’ll head with Veil. They’ll probably need my help more considering how this morning went.” James decided, sending a glance at Echo. “We don’t need a repeat of what happened this morning.”

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

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[@Obsence Symphony]@Kestrel@Hero@Eleven

Clarissa most certainly did not squeak, flail, or in any other way panic when Jorah’s absurd personality instilled the insane idea to pick her up and twirl her. She maintained her composure perfectly, ignoring the irritable flush crawling up her ears when Jorah kissed her forehead like she was some kind of child, and reached out to slap his arm for good measure as he skipped off to bother his next unfortunate victim. Goddess give her patience because if She gives her strength, Clarissa couldn’t guarantee Jorah would see the sunset. She sighed, watched him head over to their Professor, and then turned her attention to where a few of their classmates gathered out front the classrooms. At least Jorah took his job halfway seriously. She expected him to snatch up Raimund and cause trouble.

But of course, of course, she spoke too soon. She’d written him off as out of trouble. The Professor was there after all. She could handle him. But her hand flew to her mouth, her other clutching at the simple silver necklace around her throat, when she heard that tone. She just spoke of impropriety and then he has the utter audacity to… to… Clarissa fumed as she watched her friend. If looks could kill, Jorah would have dropped dead immediately. She knew Jorah brazenly flirted with any woman that caught his eye but their Professor?! Did he have no shame?! Despite his distaste for their politics and his adamantly expressed desire to quit them, the students still represented the Leicester Alliance and he was flirting with their Professor. The gall of this boy!

Of course, she fully intended to march over there and snatch him away by the ear but a thought stopped her. It wouldn’t really be proper for her to deny them the full Jorah experience. After all, they did choose him to be House Leader and they would have to work with him closely for the foreseeable future. She couldn’t shield them all the time, right? That thought cooled Clarissa off quickly and as ugly as the motivation for that sentiment may be, it was true all the same. The sooner the Professor learned to shut Jorah down, the better for everyone involved. Clarissa put the situation out of her mind (wishing she could scrub her memory of it all) and returned her attention to their remaining classmates.

She paused for a moment, considering Gloucester's adopted Almyrian. His presence still sent a shock of worry through her, a walking reminder of the threat if Duke Goneril’s distractions got the better of him, but circumstance forced them together too often for her to hold any of her old animosity towards him. Of course, she preferred him as his younger self; the apologetic, quivering mess he was but he’d grown into a confident giant clearly influenced by his friendship with Jorah. And she’d never admit it but she appreciated that little fact. She doubted they’d both come out unscathed if Raimund was a Gloucester through and through. Nevertheless, he was her classmate for the time being and regardless of their outside affiliations, working together was imperative.

Clarissa hurried over and curtsied when she reached Raimund. “My sincerest apologies for our abrupt abandonment; I hope we did not offend anyone. Jorah’s a demanding responsibility and he rarely considers his surroundings when his whims overwhelm his reason.” Clarissa explained with an apologetic smile. This was only a peak into Jorah’s regular behavior; if they couldn’t handle this, it would be a long year. “I’m glad to see you are doing well, Raimund. Jorah’s determining his future responsibilities but I don’t doubt you’ll command his full attention once he concludes his business. Although it surprised me, the three of us here almost feels like summers in Derdriu again." She'd admit the three of them together again dragged out a bit of nostalgia. The three of them getting into all sorts of mischief (always Jorah's fault no matter what anyone said) and spending hours on horseback in the woods around the capital were pleasant memories for the bad days.

The Gifted - Concluded

James Kingston

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Location: Dining Room
Skills: N/A

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The food coma hit James hard after the events of this morning. Piecing Echo back together and then immediately healing all the assorted gashes and bruises the Underground acquired during the fun left him shaking (he was convinced there would never be a day that not a single person needed a top off) so he’d descended on the remaining breakfast and shoveled in as much as he could in as little time as possible. He’d practically fallen asleep where he sat, pillowing his head with his arms as he slumped on the table. Everyone was together, people were mostly safe, and the people who weren’t, he couldn’t do jack shit about. Was he still concerned? Yes. Did sleep matter more right now? Also yes.

That all changed with the arrival of Xavier’s personal message boy and while James was loathed to shake off the doze he’d found himself enjoying, he popped up at the mention of a cure. The little box of pills glittered in James eyes and he could have wept for joy. No more sick teammates, no more cleaning up vomit or blood from various places, and more importantly, no more worrying about anyone dying! He jumped to his feet, sweeping Casper up as soon as he finished and spinning around for a few seconds before pulling him into a kiss. “Satan himself could have hand delivered it and I would give a fuck. You're cured! Holy shit. Everyone’s safe! No one else is going to die! You’re not gonna die.” James’ voice broke at the end as he held back the tears that were threatening to spill over. The ever present threat of death seemed a little lighter with that little box around and he pulled Casper into another kiss. It’d been eating him alive since Magik’s death; what if he couldn’t help anyone else? What if he couldn’t bring them back from the edge? What if he couldn’t save Casper? That little box, those pills… It didn’t mean everything would be okay. God knows how much danger they put themselves in right now but now, no one would have a ticking time bomb on them he couldn’t stop.

Honestly, he didn’t care about the transaction. He didn’t have enough room to care. All he could feel was pure, unadulterated joy at the fact that everyone was safe from the hell sickness ravaging an already persecuted community.

Of Blood and Magic

“You ran a clinic? I would have never guessed; I thought you needed years of specialized training to run a medical facility and I thought everyone was pretty much the same age. You must be talented.” Maddie wouldn’t lie that she was shocked. She couldn’t imagine going in for a consultation and discovering her doctor was barely older than her. But he must be a prodigy or something if he managed that feat. “I would have just helped the family business. I have a pretty solid background in math and I was thinking about pursuing finances so when my mom decided to retire, I could take her place. Otherwise, I just waited tables and knit hats and gloves on the side. Nothing so important as a clinic.”

Maddie bit back a laugh at Lilie’s viciousness. Clearly it was unintentional and from what she’d see of Max so far, he’d probably like that response but still it was like a punch to the gut for most people. “Why ruin a good thing?” Absolute gold. Lilie seemed like the type to like everyone, make friends with anything that was even remotely sentient, but apparently Max’s gruffness was her limit. She was a soft soul and Max was clearly the very opposite. Still if his vampire was important enough to be invited by Count Sinnenodel, then she may as well get to know him a little more in case they were shoved into any other situations that required socialization. “And what about you, Max? What were your plans for the future if you hadn’t gotten sucked into all this magic stuff?”

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

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[@Obsence Symphony]

Jorah’s introduction perfectly met her expectations of him which meant theater troupe, not dignified noble. While his populist personality worked wonders in less formal settings, instilling a little dignity alongside the enthusiasm would go a long way in reassuring their peers about his reliability. And that meant more than those in the Golden Deer house. The other house leaders would be evaluating and settling their judgement within the first few meetings and they couldn’t afford to alienate the Alliance from potential allies over a lack of professionalism. Goddess help them. This would―

Before Clarissa realized what was happening, Jorah grabbed her wrist and dragged her outside with all the grace of a drunk bull in a china shop. She’d learned long ago just to go along with it; Jorah could be as bullheaded as herself but only when he was determined to escape his father’s clutches. He hadn’t even let the others introduce herself and the girl with the shock of pink hair had caught her attention. It all but screamed Goneril but last she was aware, Duke Goneril went through wives like garments because none of them bore him an heir. And to think there was once something dignified about that man.

When Jorah finally stopped them, Clarissa sent him an unimpressed look and quickly snatched away her hands. “Have you even considered what you just did? You stole me away as quickly as you pleased from our peers and removed us from full public view in which I then had my hands pressed to your chest. To the unsuspecting eye, our behavior is incredibly improper and I’d prefer not to start this year beating down false assumptions.” Clarissa grumbled, a sigh bubbling out at the pitiful look on his face. He was too good at that these days. She’d hoped growing up would make it less endearing but apparently the Goddess had a wicked sense of humor. “Our feelings are irrelevant to the situation. The only lingering irritation I harbor is for myself and myself alone. I know how my Crest works; I can’t rightly take that out on anyone, much less you. I agree what is done is done. We’ll make the best of it. What was it you said to me…” It felt like ages ago, that time in their cave when she felt like her entire world was collapsing down around her and Jorah managed to make the weight so much lighter with little more than his antics. It was a wonderful memory now; Duke Riegan’s face of shock and betrayal afterwards still sending her into laughing fits behind closed doors.

“Pssh, like you could get rid of me.” Clarissa giggled as she parroted Jorah’s words back at him. She propped one hand on her hip while she continued. “Of course I’ll help. What kind of friend would I be if I let you stumble around like a newborn colt? Whenever you need advice, you know my doors are open. Which brings up an important point. Have you found someone to replace your sister? You’re no good to anyone strung out like a paranoid drunkard.” That wasn’t a concern sh’;d considered before now and the worry gnawed in her stomach. Her emotions were too “loud” (she still didn’t full grasp whatever that meant) for Jorah to relax around when he was overwhelmed and she knew Raimund, despite his veneer of suavity and sophistication, was as an excitable toddler as Jorah himself so the two friends he knew off the bat would only to serve to make it worse. His sister was calm and quiet and she knew sometimes he needed to recharge around her to make everything settle down but she wasn’t here so it was imperative he find another sanctuary as quickly as possible. She didn’t need him wilting away in a room on his own.

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

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An unexpectedly bittersweet feeling invaded the trip out of Alliance territory and up into the mountains she now called home. It was difficult to say why; she’d handpicked the officials in charge of her current obligations and she’d promised to send regular letters home. Travel wasn’t especially hard on her either. Goddess knows she’s been on the road plenty in her lifetime. She’d spent a good portion of the trip mulling it over, and cursing that Jorah wasn’t there to just tell her, and when she finally found it, it seemed silly. It was the smell. Or specifically, the lack thereof. Home meant the sea and the salt sweet scent that permeated everything on the coast. It was a constant in her life, even in Diedru, and now she was turning her back on it. The mountain air was crisp and light but it wasn’t home.

Arrival at Garrag Mach banished any such qualms. Her excitement returned in full force as she traversed the halls of the monastery. She’d dreamed of seeing the headquarters of the Central Church since she was a child but she’d never considered that she’d actually come. An air of serenity pervaded every nook and cranny and she couldn’t help but bask in it. She basked under the watchful eyes of the Saints, in the presence of the Goddess that echoed in every footstep and laugh, and a sense of rightness settled on her shoulders. This is where she was meant to be, exactly as the Goddess wanted it. The smile wouldn’t leave her face knowing the Bishop was right and she beamed at the end of the Archbishop’s speech. The Goddess truly did bless everyone of them, didn’t She.

Of course, what goes up must come down. Clarissa appreciated Professor Kalonic’s direct and brisk handling of affairs. She didn’t linger on anything and didn’t repeat herself, one of Clarissa’s greatest pet peeves, but Clarissa’s good mood instantly collapsed when she announced the House Leader. They chose Jorah over her? The heir who didn’t want his position, who spent so much of his time running away from his responsibilities Duke Riegan locked him in the capital, who couldn’t face anything without turning into a joke if he didn’t blatantly shrug it off? She’d spent years working on the organizational and leadership skills while Jorah perfected his escape artist performance and they chose him? She cared for him as much as any friend could but even he’d admit he wasn’t suited―Jorah probably wouldn’t want it anyways!―handling the responsibilities. She had half a mind to go after the Professor and demand they reconsider.

She deflated quickly though. Those thoughts were entirely inappropriate and rude. Jorah would wake up and step into his role just fine; he was adaptable and he knew when he needed to take something seriously. It wasn’t as if this was entirely unexpected. She’d wanted the position terribly but as usual, she had that irritating little issue that always held her one step back. Of course the Church wouldn’t want someone with the Crest of Maurice leading their students. Willingly put a betrayer in leadership? She should probably count herself lucky they even accepted her then. Clarissa gave a tiny shake of her head, trying to clear out the resentment and resignation that settled over her like a blanket, and focused instead on the challenge. The Goddess gave her the opportunity to prove herself and like every time before that, she would.
Clarissa made a mental note to spend some extra time in the Cathedral praying once everyone settled in and waited for Raimund to finish his little introduction. She rolled her eyes at his familiarity with Jorah. He should at least wait until their House Leader made his introductions before publicly falling into their friendship. She knew it had been two years since the Duke refused Raimund’s visits Jorah but they waited this long, surely they could wait a few more minutes. Of course, she didn’t know why she thought anything less; these two brought out the childish sides of each other and she had an eerie feeling someone was going to be cleaning up messes behind them.

“In that vein, I’m pleased to make everyone’s acquaintance as well. My name is Clarissa von Edmund, heiress to the Margravate of Edmund.” Clarissa curtsied, having worn a longer and heavier skirt than the original specifications. The mountains were supposed to be cold and she was averse to the idea of being half frozen for an entire year. “It truly is an honor to have the opportunity to work together with such a diverse group and I hope that, true to Alliance philosophy, we find a way to meld our differences together in a way to make all of us stronger.”