Obscene Symphony

Shin Megami Tensei: Persona

@Entityx You should join the discord! It's linked on the bottom of the first ooc post ^^

Obscene's Scratchpad

. Bad omens in my head

For every word that started on your breath

Sweet child, you'll end up dead .

Shin Megami Tensei: Persona

Still need to fill out the personality but here's most of my submission ^_^

can’t see the haters

UENO EMIHA
上野 咲羽

170cm | 125lbs | 18 | 3rd year | Female

. Bad omens in my head

For every word that started on your breath

Sweet child, you'll end up dead .

ＰＥＲＳＯＮＡＬＩＴＹ

Once bubbly, outgoing, and full of life, Emi’s recent tribulations have put a damper on her personality. Gone is the cheery girl who flitted from club to study group to night out with friends without skipping a beat; nowadays, she finds her time and energy are better spent furthering a single goal: finding out what happened to her friends. In that sense, her recent strife has sharpened her focus, and while she used to fill her busy days to the brim simply as a matter of course, it's clear now that there's a genuine purpose driving her actions.

Thankfully, though, Emi hasn't been entirely hardened by her grief. She's still the kind soul she always was; just a little more muted. Even as her search for answers monopolizes her attention, she still struggles to refuse someone looking for guidance (especially in the field of Personas), and loss has made her cherish her friends, both new and old, ever more dearly.

ＡＲＣＡＮＡ

The Moon

ＰＥＲＳＯＮＡ

Euryphaessa most often manifests as a swarm of many small, black-and-white butterflies, which disperse around the area in which they are summoned. These butterflies act as Emi’s eyes and ears, giving her enhanced awareness of her surroundings and any changes thereof. To attack, Euryphaessa’s butterflies converge into a tall, humanoid creature with five arms and butterfly wings where its head should be.

ＳＫＩＬＬＳ

Lookout - Scout out the area, making it harder for enemies to ambush you and easier for companions to land hits. (Passive)
Pulinpa - Create a distraction, inflicting Confusion on one foe. (Magical)
Mapsi - Unleash the swarm, inflicting light damage to all foes. (Psychic)
Bluff Call - Detect your foes’ weaknesses. (Ability)

ＴＲＡＮＳＦＯＲＭＡＴＩＯＮ

Upon transformation, Emi dons a flowing empire dress made from layers of shimmering white gossamer. Tattoos of flowers and other flora sprout up across her entire body, whose blooms change colour and species depending on her mood.

ＷＥＡＰＯＮ

Emi does not carry a weapon.

ＨＩＳＴＯＲＹ

To ask Emi’s parents about her life, they’d say she caused quite a stir when she was born, and hasn’t stopped since. The first part, at least, is true: having contracted an infection in utero, Emi was born without much use of her eyes, and in the following few years she was determined to be legally blind. She spent the first few years of her life in her parents’ small-town home, under the watchful eyes of doting parents and doctors alike; however, when it came time for her to start school, the family had to pack up and move to Kyoto, where she could attend a private school for the blind. Tuition and rent were expensive, forcing Emi’s parents to work multiple jobs to make ends meet, but they handled their stresses gracefully. All they wanted was for their daughter to live the fullest life they could offer her; Emi understood that even from a young age, and decided early that she’d make sure her parents’ vision for her became a reality, vowing never to allow anything to hold her back.

That resolve pushed her to pour herself into everything she did, from schoolwork to navigation lessons to hobbies. As it turned out, the lifestyle suited her: Extroverted and full of energy from the start, Emi had no problem throwing herself into action. She carried that attitude forth when she left her private school to attend Hinotori High, thriving with more people to meet and more activities to involve herself in. It didn’t take long for her to find her way onto every student association she could fit around her schedule, and in the gaps between meetings, she was always planning things with friends. Overall, her manic schedule rarely left her with a moment to herself - and you know what, Emi liked it that way.

She started her second year just as strong, but fate rarely goes long without changing. It wasn’t far into the school year before something happened, something beyond imagining, to tip her world sideways and shake out all the sense. Something awakened inside Emi that she could barely comprehend, let alone explain; the desperate utterance of one word set in motion events that shook her to her core, and led her to question not only her sanity, but the very nature of reality itself.

Persona.

Be it by luck, fate, or something else entirely, Emi was mercifully not made to cope alone. As it turned out, something similar had happened to a close friend of hers, and that friend introduced her to a few other students who’d had similar experiences. Encouraged that they weren’t alone, together they helped each other to make sense of the strange new world they found themselves living in, learning about Personas, Shadows, and the Other Side. Before long, research turned into investigation, and soon enough the aptly-named Torch Bearers passed an absolutely wild summer of battle, strife, friendship, and introspection, all in an effort to burn out the corruption lurking behind every mirror. It was terrifying, crazy, and miles beyond reasonable belief, and it was an experience Emi was certain she’d never forget.

Until one night, she stumbled home through the mirror with her mind and memories blurry. In the morning, she was told her friends were dead.

She didn’t believe it at first. Knowing the power they commanded, Emi couldn’t accept that any one of her friends could possibly succumb to something as simple as a house fire. In fact, it wasn’t until she was taken to the wreckage to smell the smoke for herself and feel the ashes between her fingers that she even believed there’d been a string of fires at all. There was just no way; it had to be fake, or a misunderstanding, or some kind of collateral damage from some climatic battle on the Other Side. But the Other Side would no longer admit her; when she tried to cross over and find where her friends had gone, she only succeeded in shattering her mirror.

But even if she couldn’t believe they were dead, her friends were most definitely gone, and the loss of such close friends would be devastating for anyone, even without uncertainty and suspicion gnawing in the backs of their heads. Emi’s desperate insistence that the fires couldn’t have claimed her friends fell on deaf, piteous ears, her concerns waived as the tragedy of a grieving girl still in denial. School, once a haven, became a torment; Emi couldn’t bear to walk the halls that now felt so empty, couldn’t stand the pity in people’s voices when they offered their condolences. As a result, she took the rest of the school year off, sequestering herself away at home with only her grief and confusion for company. Questions taunted her day and night, and uncertainty threatened to consume her: What became of her friends? Why had she been spared the same fate? And why on earth couldn’t she remember?!

For months, Emi was a husk of herself, her outspokenness silenced, her buzzing social life traded for solitude. Neither the efforts of her parents or her doctors could console her, and no possible progress on the investigation of her friends’ disappearance could satisfy her. As the new school year approached with little improvement, it seemed that the grief and the guilt would consume her - until, at long last, a light shone through the darkness.

A dream. A gentle-voiced man in a lavish train car came to her one night, speaking of things at once outlandish and hauntingly familiar. But what pulled Emi from the depths of her hopelessness wasn’t the man, the contract, or the key; rather, it was the woman beyond the door, singing an aria that Emi knew by heart. It was a melody that one of her friends, presumed dead, always used to sing. One she always claimed she’d “heard in a dream.”

The dream came back night after night, but it didn’t have to; it only took that very first night, when Emi shot up in bed with her face streaked with tears and that music in her head, for her to cast off the shackles of grief once and for all. She was no good to anyone mourning alone in her room, and as far as she was concerned, that song was the clue she needed. Her friends didn’t die in a fire: they were Torch Bearers, fire only made them stronger. Now, it was certain that something else was at work here, and at long last, Emi was going to figure out what.

Her friends called her The Navigator. Now it was time to lead them home.

ＭＩＳＣ

• While Emi is legally blind, like most blind people, she still has a little bit of vision - mostly an awareness of light and dark. This can sometimes help her notice if someone or something crosses in front of her, if someone turns on/off the lights, or to notice oncoming vehicles at night.
• Since her Awakening, Emi has had an eerily sharp awareness of her surroundings in the Real World. It doesn't compare to the awareness Euryphaessa can give her on the Other Side, but it allows her to know more about what's going on around her than one might expect.

Obscene's Scratchpad

“The only thing that can define me is me! Now shut up and do something useful!”

“I am Euryphaessa, and naught escapes my sight!”

can’t see the haters

UENO EMIHA
上野 咲羽

170cm | 125lbs | 18 | 3rd year | Female

ＰＥＲＳＯＮＡＬＩＴＹ

Under construction

ＡＲＣＡＮＡ

The Moon

ＰＥＲＳＯＮＡ

Euryphaessa most often manifests as a swarm of many small, black-and-white butterflies, which disperse around the area in which they are summoned. These butterflies act as Emi’s eyes and ears, giving her enhanced awareness of her surroundings and any changes thereof. To attack, Euryphaessa’s butterflies converge into a tall, humanoid creature with five arms and butterfly wings where its head should be.

ＳＫＩＬＬＳ

Spotter - Scout out the area, making it harder for enemies to ambush you and easier for companions to land hits. (Passive)
Pulinpa - Create a distraction, inflicting Confusion on one foe. (Magical)
Memory Blow - Unleash a flurry of strikes, inflicting medium damage and Forget to all foes. (Physical)
Bluff Call - Detect your foes’ weaknesses. (Ability)

ＴＲＡＮＳＦＯＲＭＡＴＩＯＮ

Upon transformation, Emi dons a flowing empire dress made from layers of shimmering white gossamer. Tattoos of flowers and other flora sprout up across her entire body, whose blooms change colour and species depending on her mood.

ＷＥＡＰＯＮ

Emi does not carry a weapon.

ＨＩＳＴＯＲＹ

To ask Emi’s parents about her life, they’d say she caused quite a stir when she was born, and hasn’t stopped since. The first part, at least, is true: having contracted an infection in utero, Emi was born without much use of her eyes, and in the following few years she was determined to be legally blind. She spent the first few years of her life in her parents’ small-town home, under the watchful eyes of doting parents and doctors alike; however, when it came time for her to start school, the family had to pack up and move to Kyoto, where she could attend a private school for the blind. Tuition and rent were expensive, forcing Emi’s parents to work multiple jobs to make ends meet, but they handled their stresses gracefully. All they wanted was for their daughter to live the fullest life they could offer her; Emi understood that even from a young age, and decided early that she’d make sure her parents’ vision for her became a reality, vowing never to allow anything to hold her back.

That resolve pushed her to pour herself into everything she did, from schoolwork to navigation lessons to hobbies. As it turned out, the lifestyle suited her: Extroverted and full of energy from the start, Emi had no problem throwing herself into action. She carried that attitude forth when she left her private school to attend Hinotori High, thriving with more people to meet and more activities to involve herself in. It didn’t take long for her to find her way onto every student association she could fit around her schedule, and in the gaps between meetings, she was always planning things with friends. Overall, her manic schedule rarely left her with a moment to herself - and you know what, Emi liked it that way.

She started her second year just as strong, but fate rarely goes long without changing. It wasn’t far into the school year before something happened, something beyond imagining, to tip her world sideways and shake out all the sense. Something awakened inside Emi that she could barely comprehend, let alone explain; the desperate utterance of one word set in motion events that shook her to her core, and led her to question not only her sanity, but the very nature of reality itself.

Persona.

Be it by luck, fate, or something else entirely, Emi was mercifully not made to cope alone. As it turned out, something similar had happened to a close friend of hers, and that friend introduced her to a few other students who’d had similar experiences. Encouraged that they weren’t alone, together they helped each other to make sense of the strange new world they found themselves living in, learning about Personas, Shadows, and the Other Side. Before long, research turned into investigation, and soon enough the aptly-named Torch Bearers passed an absolutely wild summer of battle, strife, friendship, and introspection, all in an effort to burn out the corruption lurking behind every mirror. It was terrifying, crazy, and miles beyond reasonable belief, and it was an experience Emi was certain she’d never forget.

Until one night, she stumbled home through the mirror with her mind and memories blurry. In the morning, she was told her friends were dead.

She didn’t believe it at first. Knowing the power they commanded, Emi couldn’t accept that any one of her friends could possibly succumb to something as simple as a house fire. In fact, it wasn’t until she was taken to the wreckage to smell the smoke for herself and feel the ashes between her fingers that she even believed there’d been a string of fires at all. There was just no way; it had to be fake, or a misunderstanding, or some kind of collateral damage from some climatic battle on the Other Side. But the Other Side would no longer admit her; when she tried to cross over and find where her friends had gone, she only succeeded in shattering her mirror.

But even if she couldn’t believe they were dead, her friends were most definitely gone, and the loss of such close friends would be devastating for anyone, even without uncertainty and suspicion gnawing in the backs of their heads. Emi’s desperate insistence that the fires couldn’t have claimed her friends fell on deaf, piteous ears, her concerns waived as the tragedy of a grieving girl still in denial. School, once a haven, became a torment; Emi couldn’t bear to walk the halls that now felt so empty, couldn’t stand the pity in people’s voices when they offered their condolences. As a result, she took the rest of the school year off, sequestering herself away at home with only her grief and confusion for company. Questions taunted her day and night, and uncertainty threatened to consume her: What became of her friends? Why had she been spared the same fate? And why on earth couldn’t she remember?!

For months, Emi was a husk of herself, her outspokenness silenced, her buzzing social life traded for solitude. Neither the efforts of her parents or her doctors could console her, and no possible progress on the investigation of her friends’ disappearance could satisfy her. As the new school year approached with little improvement, it seemed that the grief and the guilt would consume her - until, at long last, a light shone through the darkness.

A dream. A gentle-voiced man in a lavish train car came to her one night, speaking of things at once outlandish and hauntingly familiar. But what pulled Emi from the depths of her hopelessness wasn’t the man, the contract, or the key; rather, it was the woman beyond the door, singing an aria that Emi knew by heart. It was a melody that one of her friends, presumed dead, always used to sing. One she always claimed she’d “heard in a dream.”

The dream came back night after night, but it didn’t have to; it only took that very first night, when Emi shot up in bed with her face streaked with tears and that music in her head, for her to cast off the shackles of grief once and for all. She was no good to anyone mourning alone in her room, and as far as she was concerned, that song was the clue she needed. Her friends didn’t die in a fire: they were Torch Bearers, fire only made them stronger. Now, it was certain that something else was at work here, and at long last, Emi was going to figure out what.

Her friends called her The Navigator. Now it was time to lead them home.

ＭＩＳＣ

• While Emi is legally blind, like most blind people, she still has a little bit of vision - mostly an awareness of light and dark. This can sometimes help her notice if someone or something crosses in front of her, if someone turns on/off the lights, or to notice oncoming vehicles at night.
• Emi owns a collapsible white cane, though she doesn’t use it much to navigate. At school or at home she prefers to navigate by touch (ex. following walls to junctions), memory, and the little vision she has. If she’s out with friends, she’ll usually have one of them help guide her. In fact, pretty much the only time she’ll break out the cane is when she’s running errands on her own.
• She usually participates in normal classes, recording lectures in lieu of notes on a small recording device, though her study materials and evaluations often take on a more accessible form. She also has daily meetings with an expert in the special needs centre to help her with anything she might need, though she’s been skipping them as of late.

Of Blood and Magic

Varis’ sarcasm stung no less than normal, but it was deserved; so too, the comment on his condition. At that, Aaron could only avoid Varis’ gaze, ashamed that he’d let himself go to such an extent. He’d make a poor guard if unraveling like this was how he responded to stress, yet another item on the endless list of things he’d have to work on if he was ever going to be worth a damn to Varis.

But despite his condition and the million other good reasons Varis had to reject him, he didn’t; but of course, that mercy came with a price. Aaron was taken aback by the extent of the conditions Varis proposed, and his first reaction was, of course, to reject them. A full year without contacting his family, on the heels of one of the worst weeks he’d ever spent with them? After he scolded his aunts and mother for their concern and told them he didn’t want to come back home? What would they think? The Noilas had cast him out, sure, but that wasn’t his family’s fault; they seemed just as confused about the situation as he was. Casting them from his life in even harsher form seemed an undue punishment. Sure, he couldn’t claim to be close confidants with his family the way Salem once described with his own mother: rather, there was an ancient understanding among Starags of guarding information on a need-to-know basis, never letting too much slip. Behaviour was polite and conversation usually superficial, never going into too much detail, never delving too far into feelings or troubles. Those were things to be communicated through knowing looks and telling silences, not words. But despite their tight-lipped nature, his family was something Aaron cherished beyond their name or legacy, and the thought of completely cutting them out for so long was enough to punch a hole through his chest.

And, of course, Varis’ proposal held more than just sentimental consequences. Without any of his former belongings, Aaron would lose the last remaining links to his life before the Academy: the very things that Mr. Deshane and other officials in the Mental program insisted were essential to maintaining his bond with his affinity. Without truly understanding the burdens the program would place on him, Aaron had no way of knowing whether memories alone would prove sufficient. With the consequences of affinity loss so great, could he possibly be up to this challenge? It was a chance, at last—and the only real chance he ever expected to get—to prove himself to Varis and earn a place in his household. It would be his only chance, he was sure, to earn anything; he could see now that his life up to and including the Academy was a series of handouts, prestige and privilege afforded to him by the luck of his birth, not by his own doing. Was his identity, then, just another suit issued by the royal family? Would clinging to memories of his past life really keep him in touch with what formed his affinity in the first place, or would it only tease him with the shadow of someone he could never be again?

The weight of it all was enough to make his head spin, and exhausted as he was, Aaron could hardly follow that logical trail to its conclusion. And now, half-crazy, he had to decide over the course of the night where the trajectory of his life would lead. At least Varis acknowledged the choice as difficult, though “impossible” would have been Aaron’s preferred choice of words. But then again, a year ago he would also have thought it impossible that the royal family would ever dispose of him, so where did that leave him?

Varis’ fingers in his hair pulled him back to the present, his gentle touch and words a sharp contrast to the devastating gravity of what he would ask of him. Out of nowhere, Aaron wondered if this was how Malek felt as a young man, whether this was what he recalled when he spoke of a younger Varis so fondly. Had the stern old man left his own life behind in Varis’ name, too? He had a life of his own now, a family in Eloise, and a position of great power and prestige; for his sacrifices, whatever they were, he had something proud to show for it. What did Aaron have, but the tattered remains of a stranger’s legacy?

The thought almost threatened tears once more, but once more he forced them away; whichever decision he made, he knew he’d need every moment of the forthcoming night to make it.

A moment after Varis finished, Aaron finally nodded. “I understand, Master,” he confirmed solemnly, “Thank you for affording me this opportunity. I will not consider it lightly.”

_@Achronum

Of Blood and Magic

Aaron was finally beginning to still as Varis started to answer him, something about the familiar disdain in his master’s voice helping to ground him. Now that he was calm—well, calmer—it was clear as day how his actions had been rash; in hindsight, even childish. He could understand Varis’ criticisms, he’d have probably metered them out himself in the same situation. Of course, the comfort of familiarity didn’t cushion him long, and shame started seeping in quickly. He couldn’t help but recall that morning he’d called on Maddie for help, assuring her he wasn’t a violent person at heart. But... was that true? Varis had a point; whether he was punching trees to burn off energy or fighting guards in a desperate attempt to help his master, he did seem to turn to violence to solve his problems more often than not. Maybe that was how he’d been taught—it worked well enough for Count Julian, the quickest and most efficient way to deal with stubborn obstacles—but Aaron would wager it had less to do with his upbringing and more to do with his own difficulty coming up with solutions any more complex than a quick left hook and jab.

Of course, that made Varis’ proposal all the more daunting. He resorted to bloodying his knuckles on trees when his training schedule was only marginally reduced; how would he cope if all of his outlets were taken away? If he couldn’t exhaust himself with training or magic, he’d never be able to decompress. It would be his mother’s illness all over again, forced to ‘take it easy’ while his nerves were wound up like a spring, tighter and tighter with no release until the inevitable snap. He brushed his fingertips over the bumps of his scar, images of that night rushing back for the first time in months. He knew how that story ended, and it didn’t bear repeating.

When it came time for Varis to answer his questions, Aaron couldn’t help but deflate. True, it was probably naive to expect Varis would let probably the lowest-ranked mage in his household in on his plots, but that he didn’t trust him with those answers stung more than Aaron would have liked to admit. Varis’ reasoning was sound, Aaron had to concede that, but that knowledge couldn’t have possibly prepared him for what Varis said last.

“I’m hesitant to believe you are fully devoted to me and my family.”

Varis said it so casually, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but it was so devastating that Aaron actually gasped. The lump in his throat returned with a vengeance, and for the second time that night, he felt like he’d been bowled over. Varis didn’t think he was fully devoted to him? Aaron could handle not being trusted; there was something sad about the idea that Varis didn’t trust the only mage who shared his temporary home, but at least it was understandable. The other mages in Varis’ employ had a lifetime before service to show themselves trustworthy, but Aaron had only known Varis for four months; add in the fact that he came from a rival House and distrust, even for the first few years, was only to be expected. But to doubt his loyalty? Aaron wasn’t sure any more potent insult for a Starag existed.

From far away, he noticed that the water in his glass had begun to ripple, and he put it to the side with trembling fingers before he could spill it. He could feel tears building up behind his eyes, but he forced them back. Sun and stars, of course Varis questioned his loyalty! How couldn’t he? What had he possibly done over the past four months to prove otherwise? Goodness, Aaron could scarcely count the slights: showing up at Revel as some kind of Noilan mascot, consulting the Princess before his own master, lying—and those were just the ones Varis knew about! Not to even consider the secrets he’d kept, both revealed and as yet hidden; he was practically living a double life of split loyalties with Princess Ryner, keeping all this Ellmare nonsense quiet. Fuck, he’d even bargained with Eris just to get out of obeying a direct order! Of course Varis didn’t trust him, of course he questioned his devotion. He’d be a fool if he didn’t. If Aaron could see himself from an outside perspective, he’d count him among the lowest of the low, and he’d be right!

“You’re right, Master, since I got here I’ve done nothing but sneak around. I’m not surprised you don’t trust me,” he said, questions forgotten in the face of this devastating news. He let his head drop even lower, too ashamed to even let Varis see his face. He’d been struggling with the idea of being discarded for far too long, like a child clinging to a blanket, and even with Varis repeatedly trying to help him, he couldn’t seem to get it through his head that turning his loyalty to the House that accepted him was smarter than pining for the one that threw him away.

When he finally raised his head to look at Varis, the shame on his face was tinted with determination. It seemed so clear now: Thinking his master dead was the straw that broke the camel’s back. He was tired of playing two fields, tired of keeping his secrets straight, tired of comparing his new life to his old one. His old life didn’t matter; if the Noilas wanted him gone, then he would waste no more energy trying to please them. This was the night he’d finally pick a side. He served two masters no longer, and he would see this tormentous duality put to an end. “I won’t waste your time with empty apologies, Master. Even I recognize that it would be an insult to expect forgiveness. But it isn’t right that you be forced to live with a mage you can’t trust, so please,” his voice had to strain around the lump in his throat, but there was no doubt as to his sincerity. “What can I do to prove my loyalty?”

_@Achronum

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

_{@POOHEAD189 @Scribe of Thoth @ThatCharacter}

The dining hall seemed to calm down faster than Lienna did, her heart still thundering in her ears even as conversations resumed. She was largely deaf to the ensuing conversation at her own table, eyes locked on her unfinished food as she tried to ground herself. She was starving when she got here, but she’d definitely lost her appetite now; if that sort of “excitement” was what she could expect on the very grounds of Garreg Mach, she wasn’t sure if it would ever return. Wasn’t this supposed to be the holiest ground in all of Fódlan? The safest place in the world? She knew they’d be expected to venture beyond Monastery walls to fight, but she presumed that with nobles sending their children here, they’d at least be safe where they ate and slept. Goddess above, she’d uprooted her life and come here to escape the sudden swarms of soldiers in the middle of meals. She left everything she knew so that she wouldn’t have to live on her toes, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. She thought that was a curse of the borderlands, but once more her ignorance reared its head; perhaps this was just a dangerous world and she was doomed to live in it.

Of course, if that was the case, then everyone bragging about the wonder of Garreg Mach had some explaining to do.

By the time her heart finally slowed, the approach of a new figure stirred her from her thoughts, and she looked up to see a tall, dark-haired boy with a plate standing over them. Kellen jumped from his seat with apologies on his lips, but Auberon, to his credit, had none of it. He referred to the new one as “His Highness”, but if not for the newcomer’s comment about Eagles and Lions, Lienna wouldn’t have had a clue who he was. Memory jogged, she did remember the future Emperor of Adrestia being in their introductory class. She was still helpless as to his name, but frankly, that ventured beyond the limits of her interest.

Ugh, but that was no way to think, was it? Now that the fright of the thief’s capture had passed, she was reminded of her other reason for coming to Garreg Mach; it wouldn’t do to sequester herself away from potential future allies, and like it or not, the Emperor of a neighbouring nation would be a good contact to have.

Taking a sip at her water, Lienna finally opted to speak. “Good evening, Your Highness,” she greeted the Eagle, for once grateful that pompous highborn honorifics relieved her of the inconvenience of having to admit she forgot his name. That was about all he’d get from her, though; she didn’t raise from her seat or even nod her head, and quickly moved her attention to Auberon. Right, Kellen had said something about chores.

“As for chores, it sounds like I’ll be in the same boat as Kellen,” she told him. “Animals don’t seem to like me; you’ll get better results if I can give them a wide berth.”

Sum up your week in roleplaying in just 3 words

back in business

Of Blood and Magic

By the time Varis started moving again, Aaron felt like he’d just sprinted a mile, chest heaving and breathless as he tried to come down from his high. He moved to hang Varis’ coat on autopilot, then rushed wordlessly to the kitchen, having to catch himself on the edge of the counter before fetching one of Varis’ favourite bottles and a thrice-polished stemmed glass. Having filled that, he pulled a large highball glass from a different cabinet, filling it with water from the sink. Varis had never told him to get himself anything before; was it that clear that he’d been neglecting himself? Pssh, of course it was, he was a wreck! He probably looked like he’d spent a week on the street. He couldn’t even remember the last full glass of water he’d drank, let alone the last meal he’d properly sat down to. Only now realizing how thirsty he was, Aaron downed half his glass and topped it off again before heading into the living room, giving Varis the stemmed glass and putting his own on the floor next to him.

It felt kind of nice to kneel again; in retrospect, it was probably the first time he’d properly sat down in the past 24 hours. At once he felt like he weighed a thousand pounds and nothing at all, a week’s worth of desperate fatigue pulling at the edges of his consciousness as he settled comfortably on the floor, trying to pull his frazzled thoughts together. In a way, Varis’ usual dismissiveness was comforting; it was a little hard to believe that “nothing of importance” happened throughout this whole ordeal, but if Varis wasn’t worried, then far be it from Aaron to doubt him. Still, he was given a chance to sate his hunger for information and he wouldn’t see it go to waste.

First, though, he’d answer Varis’ inquiry, though he wasn’t sure how proud he was that news of his altercation had already reached Varis’ ears. “Were you speaking to the Princess, Master?” he asked, voice ragged from a week of varied interrogating and shouting. He shook his head. “The broadcast was the first I heard of any of this. When I asked Malek what was going on, he only told me that ‘everything was under control’, but wouldn’t take any other inquiries. In retrospect I probably should have trusted him, but at the time…”

He glanced away, a little embarrassed in retrospect. “I was desperate to find something to do to help, or find some information on what happened. There were people who wanted to question me, too, but Ryner kept the castle locked down. No matter how I pleaded with her, she wouldn’t let me pursue anything outside the grounds. So I… tried to escape…”

It was a sheepish admission, but he had to see a bit of humour in it. Now that his mind was clear, it seemed a ridiculous notion; he should have sat still and trusted in Malek, but at the time nothing could have consoled him. “I think she must have scrambled the guards, because when they were supposed to be changing shifts they were on full patrol. I ended up breaking one of their noses before they could restrain me.”

Aaron shook his head again, too eager for answers to talk about himself. “It’s really not interesting. But Master, what happened? Were you ambushed? Did you anticipate it? That body was clearly a distraction; did you plan this?” Some of his previous urgency returned to his voice and posture, the mage leaning forward as if to give the answers a shorter journey to his ears. “Malek wouldn’t take my calls; at the time I couldn’t be sure if his assurance was genuine or just a ploy to keep me from getting in his way. I thought that since I heard about this along with the general public, it wasn’t something planned, but I— I just didn’t know. I kept thinking that if I had been there then at least I could have done something, it isn’t my job to sit on my hands and— no, it doesn’t matter.”

He shook his head again, taking a long drink from his glass to stop the words from flowing. “I’m sorry, Master, I don’t mean to ramble,” he apologized, cradling his glass in his lap, “I’m just so happy that you’re safe.”

_@Achronum

Of Blood and Magic

Aaron was no stranger to stress. Not by a long shot. His mother told him he’d always been wound a little tight, and his life had been peppered with periods of nigh-inconsolable anxiety: His mother’s illness had his normally docile teenage self getting into fist fights with castle guards and defying Lucan, and in the week leading up to his Awakening, he only ate about a few days’ worth of food, struggling to keep anything down as the prospect of being mundane loomed over him like a death sentence. And, of course, he'd been walking on glass since his first night at the Academy.

But this was different. He thought he knew stress. He was a fool; he truly had no idea. Every waking moment since that broadcast was a storm of worry the likes of which he’d never known; to say it drove him crazy was to neglect the miles past crazy he’d traveled. His only thoughts were of what might have become of Varis, what might become of him if his master really was dead. His nightmares continued throughout the break, but he didn’t care; they paled in comparison to the terrors that plagued him about what might happen if Varis really was dead. Besides, it wasn’t like he was sleeping much anyway, with the swirling pit in his stomach jarring him awake every other moment.

On top of the uncertainty—Malek’s cryptic assurance was no help—he was trapped, Ryner having locked down the castle like a fortress to keep investigators out and a certain manic light mage in. It was the first time Aaron ever felt the walls of Noila Castle close in around him; for a week—a week!—he was forced to stay put, consoling himself by scouring anything and everything that might be even tangentially related to Varis, his companies, the Red Hand, or any other Sinnenodel who might want to target him. But the castle, for all its resources, held next to nothing; he’d never noticed before how much of its records pertained only to the royal family, or how deftly the censors of the realm kept the internet clean of anything too interesting. Yet another instance of having drifted through life blind until now.

That week was one of the longest of his life, along with a few other milestones: It was the first time he’d ever flagrantly tried to disobey an order from the Princess, the first time he’d ever tried to escape castle grounds without permission. To his chagrin, the guards had prepared; Ryner must have had them scramble their usual shift schedules so Aaron couldn’t exploit his knowledge of their routine. Of course, if he hadn’t been tackled by guards those few times, he couldn’t claim to know where he’d go next, or what he’d do. He had no knowledge of investigation, no idea who to contact with Malek and Eris dismissing him, no idea who could help, but it didn’t matter. Even wandering aimlessly in search of a solution would be better than being forced to sit still and do nothing.

By the time he was finally, finally allowed to leave—albeit transported by an armed retinue back to the Academy—Aaron was a stranger to himself. His very skin felt like a prison, tight and squirming, and it was as if he watched his life from some faraway vantage point, difficult to comprehend that anything happening was real. He was exhausted—no, far beyond exhausted, he looked like a man on the brink of death—but he couldn’t rest. How could he when his master might be dead, captured, tortured, or worse? He’d gone through every possible scenario so many times they’d all started to bleed together, his brain running on fumes in a haze somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, but he couldn’t stop. Not until he knew for sure.

On arrival at the Academy, Aaron bypassed his dorm entirely, taking off to every administrative building he could think of in a search for ever more information. Repeatedly, he was told the same thing: There was a standing order that none of Varis’ belongings were to be moved unless he failed to show up for his first class. That was more than he’d been able to learn at home, thank fate, but still infuriating, and no matter how hard he tried, no one he spoke to could—or would—elaborate. So what, were they just as uncertain as him? He was sure Ryner knew something, but his pleading had fallen on deaf ears back at the castle, and he was too disgusted with her cruelty to face her any longer. He ran around campus for a solid night to no avail, until he was forcibly brought back to his dorm and told not to resurface until class the next night.

And so he was trapped again.

As much as he wanted to smash every window in the place just for something to do, he controlled himself; instead, he kept himself occupied by deep cleaning the dorm more times than he could really remember, Dawn hanging from his hip all the while. He washed and disinfected and polished until his hands were red and raw, straightened everything to geometrical perfection, chased every last speck of dust from the house. More than once he stared calculatively at the closed door to Varis’ room or the locked drawers in his desk. There could very well be something among Varis’ belongings that might shed light on his whereabouts, but Aaron refrained. No matter how out of his mind he was, he wouldn’t cross that boundary while there was still any possibility Varis would return. But if he didn’t, Aaron would tear that room and desk to shreds if he had to.

If he slept at all, it would have been with his head on his arm, slumped over the kitchen island between trawling news articles on his phone. But aside from occasional bursts of fruitless research, his phone was largely forgotten; Eris didn't have anything to offer him—or even the decency to answer his phone himself—and no one else could help him, so the multitude of notifications from Lilie and everyone else the past few nights went largely unanswered. He’d long since put it on silent; in his state, he was pulling his sword at every little noise out of place, paranoid it was the Red Hand or some wannabe Sinnenodel heir coming to finish what they started.

When 8:15pm finally rolled around, finding Aaron pacing a rut in the living room floor, things were no different. Between heartbeats swooshing in his ear, the jostling of the front door lock was deafening; Dawn was out and ready before he even registered moving, but then he went stone-still, glaring absolute murder at the door from the end of the hall.

You had better kill me after all this fucking grief.

Aaron watched with burning eyes as the door swung inward, heart thundering his ears as someone stepped in. Time crawled as the intruder slipped inside; first a foot, then another, a coat, a glove. Aaron held his last breath, muscles tensed and ready to strike, mind blank and focused until the colour returned to his vision and a red head of hair came into view.

His heart halted in his chest as the realization struck him. It wasn't a stranger, it wasn't an illusion; it was Varis.

“Master?!”

Aaron straightened so fast he almost lost his balance, fumbling to sheathe his sword with unsteady fingers before rushing down the hall to meet him. Honestly, it was a miracle he found his scabbard at all; he was so shocked he nearly dropped the blade on the floor.

“Master, you're alright!” He exclaimed hoarsely, too overwhelmed to temper his voice. It took all he had to keep himself from reaching out to confirm that Varis was real; relief hit him like a freight train, and for a moment, he thought he might pass out. His vision swam, mind abuzz and blank at the same time. He wanted to jump for joy and fall to his knees to thank whatever powers that brought his master back safely.

He did neither, opting instead to catch his balance with a hand on the wall, looking like a man who’d just skirted death. “Master, I'm so glad to see you safe,” he breathed, hardly able to muster a proper speaking voice. “I was so worried, Master, I did everything I could but Ryner wouldn't let me leave, I was out of my mind— of course, you don't care. It’s not important.” He cut himself off from his rambling, raising a hand. He was a total wreck, running his mouth like a fool, but he didn't care. Varis could yell at him all he wanted so long as he was alive and present to do it.

Even with that in mind, Aaron could scarcely contain himself. For the first time in a week, he could breathe, though he struggled to gulp the air down around the growing lump in his throat. Relief didn't even come close to describing it; he didn't spare a single thought to how Varis had treated him the past few months, genuinely overjoyed that he was back, hale and whole.

Suddenly, Aaron gasped; he hadn't made sure of that yet! “But you, Master; are you alright? What happened? They didn't tell me anything— Is there anything I can do?” He spoke earnestly, his questions firing one after the other.

_@Achronum