Open RP Post!

[tactlesstactician]

Basically a Call Me Out for Soren here!

Pick your poison~

There's the Random Scenario meme here that you can draw from for inspiration, or we can work something out. c:

Comments

5-1

[gather_ye_rosebuds]

Lacie (age 15) had been away from the Baskerville estate for little more than an hour or two, when a group of teenage street thugs had taken notice of her eyes and done what children tend to do, when there's no authority figure to punish them and someone different in their midst. Loathe to call out her rabbit so soon, after her escape, and alert the Baskervilles of her whereabouts, she had elected to run. (After giving the leader of the gang a black eye, of course.)

After wandering the city for so many years, on her own, she knew the streets just as well as they did, if not a little better. She managed to evade them with a few turns into the labyrinthine alleyways just off the streets, and then their pursuit was made even more difficult, when it began to rain. Just when she thought she'd lost them for good, she heard them shouting, not far behind her.

Moving quickly, she spies a stack of crates, partially obscuring a place where the alley wall was recessed beneath an overhang--it looked as if it might have been a door, once, bricked up for some reason to leave only a deep archway. No sooner had she ducked into hiding than the toughs stampede past.

It's only after they've gone that she realizes there's a figure huddled in a threadbare, blood-stained cloak, next to her.

/laaaaate

[tactlesstactician]

Soren is chilled and tired and has little desire to deal with the drizzle that drifts across the cold, grey city and even less of a desire to deal with the scorn of the townspeople. It's been enough of a journey getting this far, and he is content to curl in this dark, abandoned place and rest and wait until at least the storm passes to continue combing the city for any signs of the blue haired boy that had been so kind to him.

He's just closed his eyes with the intent of perhaps trying to sleep for a little while when suddenly there is movement and noise, and the shadow of someone else ducking into the archway. Soren freezes, eyes snapping open and fixing on the girl in a wide-eyed, wary stare. He doesn't move even when she finally notices him but stays perfectly still, waiting. He fully expects her to either take one look at him and move on or decide that this is her archway and kick him out. Soren is pretty nimble, and he does have magic he can draw on to defend himself if need be, but even so, small and slight and weak as he is, he stands little chance in a one on one fight.

So he waits for her first move, having long since learned that most of the time, it's easier to remain still. Easier and safer - people grow bored with something that doesn't move and doesn't react. And curling in a ball protects him that much more.

Re: /laaaaate

[gather_ye_rosebuds]

Lacie was in the midst of deciding whether to stay or bolt, herself, until she'd seen his eyes. Her own crimson orbs widening, she leans down suddenly, fingers curling around his chin and tipping his face up a bit more into the light.

"...You're like me!" she murmurs.

She hadn't believed there could be other red-eyed children... At least not any approaching her own age. Glen had always said there was one each generation, for each Glen. What does it mean..?

She frowns to herself, deciding that she should be polite to this person. Or at least what, for her, passes for polite.

"What's your name?"

[tactlesstactician]

Soren attempts to shrink back from her hand, but there's nowhere to really shrink too with his back to the wall, and he trembles a little as she tilts his face and peers at it. But her exclamation catches his attention and it's then that he, too, realizes what her eyes are like. And his own go still wider. His fear turns to a wary awe as he uncurls just a little to look up at her better.

Except - then she asks his name, and he opens his mouth - and then shuts it because he doesn't really know how to talk. He can make sounds if pressed but mostly all there is is silence. He swallows and drops his eyes a bit, pondering how to tell her his name when he can't speak.

[gather_ye_rosebuds]

Lacie blinks, head tilting.

"You can't talk...?"

Frowning, she takes it upon herself to sit down next to him and then squirm her way into his cloak with him. The rain had been cold, after all, and she's shivering. (And, it's not as if he can say no.)

She contemplates a moment, as she leeches his warmth.

"Can you write?"

[tactlesstactician]

He ducks his head a little at her first question - confirmation enough, he hopes. But that she sits down beside him and worms her way into his cloak with him surprises him, and he freezes again, going stiff. But since she seems to just be sharing warmth, and he can feel her shivering, he relaxes a little.

And at her second question, he nods and -- doesn't have any way to articulate that he doesn't have any paper with him or a writing utensil.

[gather_ye_rosebuds]

Lacie frowns, realizing the problem roughly at the same moment he does. Given that it's still raining, and seems to even be getting a bit worse outside of their meager shelter, going out and finding paper and a quill doesn't much seem to be an option. Well, then. She'll have to play teacher.

"Have you ever tried to talk? Or do you not have a voice at all?"

[tactlesstactician]

Soren hesitates in answering for a moment, looking away from her out at the rain. Then he makes a single noise in response.

"Mm."

That should be sufficient to answer her question. It's not that he can't make noises. It's just that he doesn't know how to get his vocal chords and tongue and lips to work together to produce the sounds necessary for intelligible speech.

[gather_ye_rosebuds]

Lacie's eyes light up with pleasure, when he manages to produce even that small sound. She squirms around a bit, so that she's facing him properly. Mind you, she's never taught anyone how to speak, before, knows nothing of the formal methods behind it. Still she's not above trying.

"There's hope, then! Try this one: La!"

[intendance]

[Okay so Morgan's totally used to waking up in weird place. It's pretty common at this point--it just seems to keep happening to her.

But. She was not expecting to wake up on the fringe of an army.

. . .

She sits up in the dirt, yawning and rubbing an eye, and vaguely observes the army camp, tiredness making her mind a little dull and telling her that the fact that this probably looks suspicious (a girl sitting on the ground watching this camp, yeah, that's not normal).

Just. Give her a moment to recollect her thoughts.

(Or don't).]

I am excited for this. xD

[tactlesstactician]

[ Okay so Soren is used to new people joining them and having to account for them in the company ledgers and his tactics, but that's the thing. When someone joins, regardless of whether he's in favor of it or not, he knows about it.

So when one morning he's making his rounds about the camp to check on supplies and check in with the watch and scouts and so on, he sees someone he doesn't recognize and in such an odd position, just sitting there blinking about, he is immediately suspicious.

Tightening his grip on the wind tome he's lugging about, Soren stomps over approaches, standing over her (though at sufficient distance that if she launches an attack, he'll be able to dodge) and frowning down at her before issuing a cold demand ing question: ]

Who are you and what are you doing here?

YOU AND ME BOTH also tagging with snarkyyyyy

[intendance]

[She was not expecting to be approached, and certainly not by someone who's so...small. Not that she's judging! She's pretty tiny herself, after all, and she's also wearing robes in an attempt to floof herself up (okay no, that's a lie, they're merely her tactician's robes).

Still, she would've expected a guard or something. This suits her better though. She didn't really want to be captured by an army. For one thing, what if they're bad guys? Then she'd be in trouble. Regardless, they're not Lord Chrom's army, so she's a little bit in trouble anyway.

All of that she thinks rather rapidly, now being pretty awake (her situation managed to do that for her, at least). And then she peers up at him, though she doesn't stand up. It might be considered a threatening gesture, and she sees that spell tome--but she might clutch her thunder tome a bit closer in response.]

Oh...! Would you believe me if I said I have no idea?

[Weak, Morgan, very weak. Still, she's distracted by the army, so she peers closer. For some reason, this is all tickling at something in the very back of her memory........

So as if not even noticing her current precarious position, she asks--]

Whose army is this, anyway?

tagging with Cal! kyaaa! [happy llama face]

[tactlesstactician]

[ Adrenaline is better than coffee in the morning, obviously.

But Soren studies her, making note of her own spell tome and watching all of her movements closely. Her clothes are unfamiliar and don't quite match the style of any region he is familiar with, the eye patterning along the sleeves in particular. No mark of a spirit charmer or Branded is immediately apparent on her face or hands, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything with all that clothing. Besides, magic isn't something exclusive to them - just... enhanced.

He makes a scoffing noise at her first question, not at all assured. And his disbelief only increases with the second, red eyes narrowing into a stern glare. ]

Are you joking or simply hard of sight?

[ Because the banners totally don't give it away or anything, right? No sympathy for amnesiacs! ]

[happy penguin face] it's been too looong

[intendance]

[That...scoff was not the answer she was expecting. She doesn't look particularly put-out by it, to be fair, but she does blink at him for a moment in surprise.

And then she shrugs and looks past him at the army, taking in the banners and the camp and squinting. Something...at the fringes of her memory...

It's funny. It reminds her, somehow, of her father. Why would that be so? There's something there--in him teaching her tactics when she was a child, the only thing she can remember, and then it clicks so suddenly that she sits bolt upright, staring.]

Whoa, I don't believe it!

[She suddenly actually looks...rather excited. But wouldn't you, upon seeing something straight out of legend and story?]

This is Daein. That's Lord Ike's army. Right? Is that right?

[uwaaaaahhhh]

DAEIN thank you I can never spell that one. [llama sipping tea] It haaaas

[tactlesstactician]

[ He takes a step back when she bolts upright, surprised by the sudden shift in expression and movement. Well... he supposes she's too excited to be a spy, and their reputation has been spreading...

But it's still kind of odd that she wouldn't have any idea where she was. ]

Yes. It is.

[ ... maybe she has a concussion? ]

But that still doesn't answer what you're doing here.

D VOWEL COUNTRY

[intendance]

[She can't help but be excited. After all...she's just seen an army that's done something astonishing. Something amazing. They saved the world!

It's incredible, and so she's still beaming, even as she shrugs.]

Oh, I've got no idea. I'm from Ylisse, you see, but Ylisse isn't anywhere near here.

[or...anywhere......in this time.]

But I do keep ending up in weird places, so I suppose I'm not really surprised anymore.

[morgan you're making no sense at all.]

SOBBING vowels

[tactlesstactician]

[ This excitement. It's weird and it worries Soren. Still just watching her, narrow eyed and suspicious. ]

I've never heard of Ylisse. And what do you mean by you keep ending up in weird places?

[ Answers. He wants them because this is absolutely not helping your cause, Morgan. ]

First Meeting

[demount]

[ He isn't expecting to survive, no thought nor intention to think past that first moment of cleared sanity. But as his mind is restored and his thoughts return, he can feel it. Some sixth sense that had brought him here in the first place, some innate sense of kin, and it is that prickle along his spine that he feels now, looking out along the victors of this battle, and his eyes settle on the slight man standing next to the supposed leader.

There is no denying his face, Alhmeda's face. So like his mother. ]

I never did... [ His voice is faltering, quiet, but strong, still. The authority of it clear, even in his weakened state. ] ...have the chance... to learn your name, nephew.

[ Alive. He closes his eyes. He'd had just enough time to ensure they were alive, and no longer. ]

SHRIEKS

[tactlesstactician]

[ Soren watches the dragon laguz approach, newly healed by the power of the Herons' galdr. Expecting that Rajaion will wish to speak to Ike, (and will probably instinctively ignore Soren, besides) he feels no qualms about taking the time to study the man, analyzing his movements and his state of health. These many months of battle and the many unexpected allies have ingrained in him that habit - he never quite knows if an enemy or even a neutral third party is going to wind up fighting with Ike or against him a second time. It is, after all, his responsibility as tactician to have a thorough understanding of all units.

However, Rajaion belies Soren's expectations by approaching and addressing not Ike but himself. But what the prince has to say surprises Soren still more, and the boy finds himself speechless for a moment, able only to stare. The shock quickly fades into wary disbelief. ]

What are you -- talking about?

[ Him? The Branded child of one of the dragons? Ridiculous! He thinks perhaps all that Rajaion has endured has left him a bit... rattled. Mistaken. ]

SHRIEKS BACK

[demount]

[ His hand reaches out a moment, before he checks himself and straightens. He wants to hold this child in his hand, so precious. Well and alive and strong. Worth his sanity. ]

Almehda's son. And Ashnard's. [ His smile is soft, odd pon his strained face, but genuine. ] You were a beautiful baby.

[ This was for you, he wants to say. My decision to leave Goldoa, my insanity. But he does not wish to sound cheated, accusing. To have him here, worth the price ten thousandfold. ]

You have your mother's eyes. [ He speaks more slowly now, even and unbroken. ] And her cute upturned nose. My little sister.

[ He feels so old, all of a sudden, the aeons of his life compared to this child near-grown, when it cannpt have been more than a score of years since he was a babe. ]

MORE PTERODACTYLE NOISES

[tactlesstactician]

[ Slowly, Soren shakes his head, taking a step backwards. His grip on his tome tightens, knuckles whitening. His breath quickens, and he lets go with one hand long enough to self-consciously touch his nose before clenching his fist and tightening his arms around the book again. ]

I - I don't have any parents.

[ Well no, he knows he had to have some at some point, but somehow he'd wound up with that terrible old hag in Gallia, and well... the rest is history. Even after finally discerning the meaning behind the mark on his forehead and the treatment he'd received particularly in Gallia, Soren still had never honestly expected to find out much of anything about his parents. Besides, from what he'd learned from Stefan, most Branded anymore weren't even the first generation of mingled laguz and bearoc - most of them were just anomalies that popped up in later generations from time to time.

So really, it made no sense for him to be as Rajaion claimed, right?

Except the more he thinks about it, the more it does make a kind of sense. The red eyes, the blackish greenish hair, the red mark on his forehead - now that he's looking for it, Soren can see the similarities. But that still doesn't really explain who Almedha is (though he can guess) or how any of this happened...

He simply continues to stare at Rajaion, too cynical to let himself really relish in this finally being a chance for the answers he never thought he'd get. He feels torn between anger and disbelief and even a small sliver of fear - if he's --

The meaning behind both possibilities of parents is starting to hit him, now, too - and the idea of being Ashnard's son... He has no idea how to deal with that, either. ]

hahahahaha

[demount]

[ Rajaion steps back, and his hand fists. He knows the Branded are often thought ill of, knows that finding yourself kin to Dragons and nightmares can hardly be a welcome realization.

Some part of him, young and foolish still, headstrong, had hoped that there could be some semblance of family between them, that he could come to learn his nephew he sacrificed so much for, but if that is not mean to be, it will not. ]

If that is how you wish it, I will not press you.

[ He wanted to give his sister and her son freedom, and that includes the freedom to choose a life apart. He almost turns to go, but, fool that he is, he cannot help but linger a moment longer, with fruitless hope. ]

If you wish to know more of your mother, of her family, [ of your family. of our family. ] I will never turn you away.

[ You cost so much, hold such value to me ]

lmfao Raj - aww... don't feel too bad! Soren needs time to adjust v__v

[tactlesstactician]

[ Soren is tense, and if Rajaion looks closely, he may catch a glimpse of fear in the young man's eyes beneath the cold, suspicious exterior.

He hesitates and almost lets Rajaion leave without comment, looking away and around desperately. Ike isn't anywhere nearby, and Soren isn't quite sure whether to be grateful for that - or more afraid. But in the end, he winds up staring at the ground until Rajaion starts to move away, and then catching the movement in his peripheral vision, Soren looks up again and finally speaks. ]

Why?

[ Why do you care? mostly but also a thousand other questions that linger in that one word. ]

very understandable

[demount]

You are my sister-son.

[ There is a smile, soft, on his face. Perhaps not so fruitless after all. ]

You were, you are, worth dying for. There are few enough things for a Prince of Goldoa in Daein.

[ He does not say more, but the state of Rajaion is telling. And Soren is clever. He has likely said too much, as it is. But he will not have others thing less of his nephew. This is my kin, he proclaims. He is worth my sacrifice.

Let the others take note of this, let them see who the Crown-Prince of Goldoa stands by, 'ere they cast their judgements. A Black Dragon is no small foe. ]

wow this has been open in a tab all day and I never hit post comment /o\

[tactlesstactician]

[ Soren certainly is clever, and he's also already seen and heard enough clues to piece most of it together. He swallows and tries very hard not to react overmuch - they've just won a major battle and there is so much clean up work to do. He doesn't have time for this. Doesn't have time to fall apart. Doesn't have time to bother Ike with this - can't let Ike down, either, as the man will need help wading through the politics and reshuffling of personnel to come after, and Soren still needs to write up a report on this battle and --

But trying to focus on the minutia still ahead as a way of distracting himself or seeking an excuse to run away from Rajaion for now... It doesn't really work too well with the lure of answers he'd never expected to get before him and the lost feeling of uncertainty and fear in the face of what exactly his parentage means for himself and for Daein.

So instead he takes a deep, steadying breath and decides to do his best to focus on filling in those few remaining gaps in the clues he has put together. ]

How - how did my -- your sister come to be here?