Event Log: September, The Price of Revolution p1

[faileas]

Event Log: September, The Price of Revolution Part 1

I. The Freedom Festivities Behind the fortress-like walls of Dorchacht, what was once a gloomy, imposing city is lit up for the festivities to come. Septeril brings with it many mixed emotions for the citizens of what used to be called The Black City, though the overwhelming atmosphere is positive - this is a celebration of freedom hard-earned and prosperity hard-fought-for. The triple stars of the Resistance, now the current reigning party, feature heavily in decorations and in clothing: in pins, on hats, golden stars enchanted into fabric to dance merrily across skirts and cloaks. Stars light up the streets in decorative strings hung from lamppost to lamppost, flickering gently over the cobblestones. Mirrors, as well, feature into the decor, tiny round ones hung in multitudes from awnings and in windows like ornaments, catching the light and playing it across the otherwise-utilitarian architecture, lending it a sort of understated beauty. Much of Dorchacht has been rebuilt and repurposed by necessity since the uprising last year, and many new small businesses and restaurants are being featured at the festival - their goods or their foods on display in markets of street-side stalls or on the feast tables. Local handmade wares and crafts are out for sale for modest prices, and every sale helps out both the small business, many of which are started by former slaves, and helps the local economy, which is better these days but still recovering. The festivities go for six days, almost a full week, with feasting and bonfires every evening, and tours and tales of the city by day, as they display the changes for the better they have all made. And then, on the final evening, all are invited to watch a grand fireworks show that will be put on in the skies over Dorchacht, presided over by the Circle of Three themselves. Mirrorbound are welcomed warmly, whether they were present last year or not, and treated much like family - get ready to be pulled into activities and plied with food left and right. a. Join the Fun The children of Dorchacht are out by the dozens during the festivities, excited by all the freely-offered, special sweet treats and the magical sparklers and poppers being handed out by the fistful. The poppers explode when thrown to the ground in bursts of bright colors, completely harmless, and the sparklers are enchanted not to burn little (or big) hands if mishandled. Mirrorbound passing through may find themselves roped into elaborate pretend games of revolution by eager faces: the children name themselves either Resistance members or Mirrorbound, and 'do battle' with their magic fireworks against scarecrow-like constructions cloaked in dark bed sheets as 'the bad guys'. Depending on one's perspective, it may seem dark, but this is what these children have known very recently in their lives, and their caretakers or parents (there are more of the former than the latter, especially for the young Monsters) let them play as they will. If asked, they'll just explain that some of those kids even remember the fighting when it happened; this is just another way that they try to understand how the city has changed. More organized, family-friendly reenactment performances are also common, with several of the orphanage groups putting on small plays about the uprising, or moral plays about kindness and togetherness between Witches and Monsters. This includes a prominent set of performances by the Mirrored Hearts Home for Children - maybe you're helping out with their sets or costumes, or maybe you assisted with their scripts and songs. Those Mirrorbound volunteers will want to see the kids do well, right? They'll be heartbroken if you don't show. Of course, kids aren't the only ones doing reenactments. The newly formed Dorchacht Historical Society, dedicated to protecting Dorchacht's history going forward, puts on several - and may drag in passers-by to play different roles! Only the luckiest are begged to play the role of The Dragon, who valiantly rose up against their cruel former master, Morgana, and helped lead Dorchacht to where they are today. b. Forget-Me-Not While the overall air is celebratory, among the adults who are old enough to understand just what was lost as well as gained, there is an undercurrent of sombre remembrance. Many visit the burned-out Old Coven, left as damaged as it was when the fighting ceased, as a monument to how freedom fighters suffered and fought. Plaques dot the grounds and buildings there seemingly at random, until you realize that each metal plate bearing names is laid where someone died. To decorate these plaques, and homes and businesses as well, there are tables set up in the yard of the New Coven, heavy with a rainbow of small magical flowers called Forget-Me-Nots, and the supplies to make remembrance wreaths. In this new tradition, the flowers are chosen with a dead, missing, or simply absent loved one in mind, and woven together with glass beads, small wooden charms, and a spell written on a slip of paper. The enchanted fragrance of the Forget-Me-Nots allows whoever smells them to witness short, happy memories of the person the wreath was made for - whether they knew that person or not. The memories come from the wreath-maker, and are only short flashes (less than a minute long) or mere impressions, but all are pleasant or warming. With the spell woven in, they'll last for an entire year without wilting or losing their effects, a souvenir from the festival to take home. Mirrorbound are encouraged to join in, and make wreaths of their own, whether or not they lost someone in Dorchacht's uprising. It can be for someone who has disappeared from Geardagas, someone who died long ago, someone living they miss from home, anyone who is not currently with them.

II. The Uninvited Guests On the 25th, the final day of the celebrations, the partying lasts all day. Food and drink are abundant on every corner, upbeat music is played by street performers and over the radios that can be found in nearly every household and shop, and the bonfires have been enchanted to let the flames take fanciful shapes. Drinking games and dancing, storytelling and general partying all last clear into the evening, but once dusk falls, everyone gathers in the center square of the city for the fireworks show. The Three are there - the Witches Bryn and Hilda, and the Monster known as The Dragon, Starlight, or formerly Fafnir - with Nessie and Mhairi as guests of honor, and Hilda is the one to set off the first enchanted fireworks, after a brief speech thanking everyone for coming out to celebrate a year of freedom and independence with them. It's with bursts of colorful light in the night sky behind her that she seems to appear from nowhere: tall, dark and imposing, a sharp-eyed Witch that exudes power. Morgana Drummond is not alone, either, flanked by a dozen rough-worn Witches and a host of others. The chaos that ensues is immediate and violent. "All of this for me?" Drummond sneers. Attacks bounce off her, no matter how powerful - even Nessie's considerable spells. Witches will be able to sense the strong barrier spell close-fit around her body, and the others around her will not let Monsters get close. It's The Dragon who speaks, voice rough from disuse but loud enough: "How dare you return here-" "I built this city in all the ways that matter. I was never going to let you have it. You burned away my Dorchacht, so now I will make sure there is nothing left of yours but ashes." a. To Sleep, Perchance Unreachable, Morgana Drummond's form limns in a sickly violet light, the circle of a spell forming beneath her feet, steadily growing as her power gathers. So much magic gathered in one spot is bound to be felt by all the Mirrorbound, Witch and Monster alike, oppressive in nature as if it could steal the breath from your lungs. Perhaps it truly was a fluke that she was driven from Dorchacht, a happy accident caused by a timely distraction. The spell circle spreads, glowing, until it envelops the entire city, and it pulses once, blinding, before it sears itself across Dorchacht's streets and buildings in burnt lines and symbols. The fireworks continue to pop and burst overhead, casting shadows that seem suddenly sinister. Nothing happens for just a moment - and then all the people of Dorchacht collapse in waves. Next to a stunned Nessie and furious Mhairi, Bryn, Hilda, and the Dragon fall into a heap as well, the final three bodies to hit the ground. Mirrorbound and citizens of Aefenglom do not fall prey to the sleeping spell despite being in its area of effect. It happens in the span of just a few minutes, and then Morgana is gone in the blink of an eye, leaving her people to sow terror on the sleeping city. b. Battle on the Streets While she brought with her only a dozen Witches from her former Coven, she's collected a force in the Wilde. Blank-eyed rogue necromancers, mind controlled the way the Monsters of Dorchacht used to be, storm the streets controlling in turn their dead Monsters and creatures. A few even have with them dead Nuckelavee, which will require multiple fighters to take out. Wilders from Dorchacht gone missing on expeditions in the last year bear the signs of mind control as well - the ones who aren't dead, shambling around the necromancers. Maybe you recognize them, maybe you don't. Maybe you can help them, or maybe you can't. The mind control enchantments can be dispelled with a lot of effort or with the specific spells used often by the Resistance a while ago, for those who still remember it. In the slums of Dorchacht, the people who were convinced of Morgana's return, those who want to return to the days of slavery and terror, break free from the now-sleeping guards and failing wards that kept them contained and join the fighting, manic in their glee. The spell that put the rest of Dorchacht to sleep seems to slip right off them, perhaps sensing their loyalty to terrible causes. It is chaos, as the insurgents set fires and attack at will with magic, claws, weapons, anything they have. Mirrorbound will soon realize that they and the visitors from Aefenglom are not the only targets. The sleeping people of Dorchacht are ripe for the killing, unable to react or defend themselves. The fighting will continue into the night until the invaders are all dead or captured.

III. The Aftermath When the fighting ends, the work begins. An entire city deep in the throes of an enchanted sleep is a worst-case scenario that none of them could have predicted, even those who had a hunch Morgana didn't die out in the unexplored Wilde. Miss Nessie and Mhairi will remain on the scene helping to direct the aid efforts in the aftermath of the battle. Fires must be put out, corpses must be rounded up to be buried or burned, captured attackers must be secured and questioned, sleeping citizens must be whisked from the streets to safety and shelter, and buildings ensured to be safe in the meantime. Aefenglom's Coven are called in to assist, anyone who is available, and Mirrorbound help is more than welcomed. They will need everyone they can get to make sure not all is lost in this tragic attack. Nessie herself will ensure the Three are taken to safety in Aefenglom until the people of Dorchacht can be woken. Action needs to be taken quickly. Morgana needs to be found as soon as possible, and capable hands will be needed to search the Wilde far outside Dorchacht, the most likely place for her to go. More urgently, however, are the sleeping citizens. Nessie announces late the next evening, the normally-bubbly woman gone solemn and serious: "I believe I've found a counter-ritual for the spell that nasty woman used, I have. I will need your help, though, Mirrorbound. Volunteers only, of course, of course, as it's likely to be quite dangerous, though the Dreamers and I will take every precaution we can. Discuss among yourselves, decide if you're willing. Those who are, meet at the Coven at midnight on the 27th. It's not right to just leave them all like that, not right at all..."

Welcome to September's event log, Part 1 of The Price of Revolution! This event will continue in the TDM posted on the 21st, with a foray into purposeful dreamwalking. It will be a hybrid test drive and event that current characters will be allowed to top level on as well. Quests into the Wilde to search for Morgana will currently bear no fruit beyond small clues, but Part 2 in early October will deal with her whereabouts and her final fate. As always, direct your questions about the event HERE! And finally, for those who are wondering what's up with Dorchacht, we have a Setting update for you.

Comments

[darkestbefore]

[ She blinks. And then gives a breathless laugh as she gestures a hand at him in permission. ]

Please feel free to vent away, I won't think less of you for it.

[clickclickbang]

Fuck Drummond. With a rusty spoon.

[darkestbefore]

[ That wasn't the sort of curse she'd expected.

She blinks at him. ]

That sounds... uncomfortable.

[clickclickbang]

That's the point. She's a bitch and anything else is too nice for her.

[darkestbefore]

Is that really the worst sort of curse you could think to cast her way?

[ There must be something far more emphatic than just... well, that. ]

Although I have to agree with you. This... this is a disaster. All these poor people...

[clickclickbang]

I mean I'm a monster, so I can't actually curse anyone to begin with.

[Just saying.]

They didn't deserve this. She was a tyrant and they overthrew her, and now she's throwing a fit. It sucks.

guests.

[gynvael]

[ Safety is not exactly what Geralt is seeking out, but it is where he's gone to look for anyone who might need a hand -- including Jaskier or Yennefer, both of whom he's still searching for in the battlefield that's become the streets.

He doesn't find either of them. Instead, he finds a young woman on crutches and fluttering wings. Geralt frowns. Outside, the flames flicker. They lick at buildings, wood that catches easily like tinder. If she's trying to move, she's not getting far on her own.

He steps up to her, sword loosely at his side. Blood shines on the blade. ]

Come on. [ He offers a hand. ] This way.

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Another bond, one he doesn't know about. That doesn't bother him at all -- Trevor has his own life and his own relationships. Hector is now in the small but ever growing pool of people Berserker will risk his own safety to ensure theirs. ]

It would be nice to fight alongside him... [ Nevermind that. His gaze is intense and pointed as he makes a sudden vow. ] I will protect you as long as I can, I promise you that.

[ For all that meant to Hector. For as broken of a person as he is, his loyalty is something that should never be questioned. So much had been stripped away from him due to the nature of his very existence that it's a wonder anything of who he truly is was left behind.

He continues to kill as many of the raised dead and the living alike as he can. Even as they start to swarm him, he only focuses on the task at hand. Wounds laid upon him go ignored, doing nothing to slow him. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ And he doesn't. It's hard to be bothered about something like that when you've made a wall out of the skulls of your enemies.

Normally, Berserker would try to find some sort of cover to shift back, but there's no way he could manage that right now. His monstrous size shrinks, leaving a badly wounded, much more human form in its place. None of the wounds seem to be too severe, they're just numerous. It's also hard to tell if all the blood on him is his own.

It takes a considerable amount of effort to get to his feet. Every bit of him hurts -- pain is simply something he's accustomed to. He soon takes the ... gently used clothing from Geralt to dress himself. Some cloth tearing later to fit his extra appendages and he's dressed. ]

There...You can go now.

[ Nevermind that the dragon can still barely walk. Physical limits are an annoyance of his new reality that he still refuses to accept. ]

ozymandias | witch | ota

[fulgency]

i. aerial support

[As far as Ozymandias is concerned, mercy was wasted upon the likes of these Witches. And so, while it was not a mistake of his own, it is not one he intends to repeat. He will not be satisfied with merely incapacitating them, rounding them back up and placing them neatly into their little prisons. Something like this requires far more extreme measures.]

[Ozymandias does not allow himself to be shocked by the spellwork that's suddenly cast upon the citizens of Dorchacht. As bodies begin to slump and drop wherever they once stood or sat, Ozymandias moves forward to summon one of his sphinxes. As the creature manifests, its wings unfurl and Ozymandias hops upon its back in a smooth motion to take to the skies to quickly reach the fringes where Morgana's loyal and controlled are beginning their assault on the vulnerable. While above, Ozymandias strikes the ground with white-hot, light that scorches the earth. It serves as either barrier to prevent an oncoming projectile or a very quick means of ending a conflict. But a fight like this can only remain impersonal in this way for so long.]

[Spotting one of the resurrected Nuckelavee closing in on a fellow Mirrorbound, Ozymandias redirects the sphinx to make its rapid descent. Moments before impact, he jumps off the sphinx's back, using a spell to slow his own descent. The sphinx leaps upon the Nuckelavee, though the collision of the two great beasts and the subsequent grappling to get the other pinned to the ground is far from muffling the horrid screech and wailing of the undead creature. By comparison, Ozymandias' touchdown seconds later is far gentler.]

ii. bring out your dead

I have this. Deal with him.

[The trouble with necromancers in battle is that there is always fodder nearby for them. Particularly when not all are able to fight for themselves and it is impossible to protect them all. Familiar faces that were once joyous in their celebrations of their hard-won liberation are propelled along by the necromancer's magic alongside those that would fall apart were it not for that same magic.]

[It feels as though he is damning them to a worse fate than that which the necromancer has inflicted upon them to destroy their bodies. So, he refuses to do that. Even to the poor, unfortunate creatures that had long-since succumbed to infection and lost perhaps all sense of themselves to the madness of the Cwyld. But they must be dealt with in order to take down the necromancer who pulls their strings, and so, Ozymandias is comfortable with holding the figurative line while his compatriot contends with the mind-controlled necromancer.]

[Even if he is a bit outnumbered 3 to 1.]

iii. sleep? never heard of her

[Whatever injuries he might have incurred during the battle,Ozymandias only allows for cursory treatment for now. It is enough that nothing bleeds and nothing aches beyond what's manageable. He watches silently for a moment as the next line of captives are brought forth for questioning by Aefenglom's Coven before scoffing quietly.]

They waste their time. Even if Morgana was the sort to share her machinations with those within her service, they are unlikely to ever betray her willingly.

[He steps away, feeling he has had long enough of a rest when there is so much more that needs to be done. The fires still burn in the distance, their smoke and ash carrying. The dead still need to be documented for later identification when the citizens of the slumbering city awaken once more. And there are still plenty of those who need to be brought inside, safe from the elements or a potential second strike (although Ozymandias doubts the latter to be likely so soon after).]

2-a

[gekijou]

[A rather shocked-looking Yuki stands stock-still in the crowd, the speckled patches on his neck and lower arms turning an intense chartreuse. There is chaos all around him, but he's still. He's not helping anyone, he's not doing anything but looking around, his hair whipping wildly.

And maybe that same hair hits Howl in the face when his hand is gripped and he spins around with force he doesn't realize he has. It grounds him again, and he frowns.]

...Did you just tell me to Bond with you?

[Yes, because discussion is what the man wanted, Yuki.]

[beariot]

[ Ursula nodded, firmly, focusing enough energy in her free hand to throw up a barrier along one side of the proposed path, the wall glowing sparkling with emerald light. Her wand-equipped hand focused on laying down a volley of cover fire, sending bursts of mana spikes into approaching enemies. ]

One... two...

[scatmaam]

[ Scathach raised an arm to temporarily halt their march, seeing how the line was faltering ahead of them, many of Morgana's faithful losing their nerve at the site of both of them, while the troops behind them were practically hammering out a war beat on their makeshift shields.

She let them hold there, standing beside Cu, letting the hammering of the shields grow louder, louder, the monsters behind them snarling, roaring, screaming for the blood of those who wanted to enslave them. She wanted them to hear it. To hear their rage. ]

Make way, or may your bodies pave our warpath. The choice is yours.

aftermath

[hegemonwings]

[ they'd been separated in the course of the chaos, of course. there was no time for grand battle lines or strategies in a situation like this, no space for the general and her emperor to stand alongside their battalions against the world. still, byleth reaches out for her presence once the fighting dies down, tracing her sense of where edelgard is. she's covered in blood, very little of it her own. the coat she'd come here in is in tatters, though the enchanted cloak has held its own.

she manages to catch up before long, thankfully, coming back through the portal. she catches sight of that familiar silver hair from behind, and... doesn't say anything, just moves to start closing the gap. she'd been back in her element as the ashen demon tonight, for better or for worse. ]

ii

[hegemonwings]

[ the ashen demon is back in her element here. by the time she comes across hubert, she's already spattered heavily with blood, from her face to her coat and shirt. electricity crackles at her fingertips before she fries a line of undead puppets with an arc of lightning, before cutting down a local insurgent who tried to catch her from behind. that icy, inappropriately serene look from years ago is back in her eyes. ]

Do we have a plan? [ or are they winging it? it wouldn't be the first time. byleth draws the revolver at her belt, keeping it in her off hand. ]

[unyieldingmarch]

I am.

[Edelgard takes a step closer, moving without hesitation. If he's willing to provide the magic, then she can definitely do the killing.]

What do you need from me? Is it just proximity?

[She's a somewhat experienced mage herself, and cautious enough that she won't do anything like give him a hair, but some basic concessions she can make.]

[gynvael]

[ Some apprehension lingers in the air around him as the dragon changes, but unlike his own, it's a smooth transition without cracking bones and fallen teeth. There's no note of his nudity either way; Geralt doesn't bother with the courtesy of looking away nor does he seem to pay attention in the first place.

He grunts in reply. ]

And they call me a stubborn bastard.

[ Which he is, also. Between the two of them, they're at an impasse because Geralt's not leaving. Frankly, as much as he doesn't care to have his fucking time wasted, he cares even less for abandoning a man to bleed out. If he has to wait for him to pass out so he can just carry him off, so be it.

(He's starting to see why Jaskier has such a damn headache with him, but he's not about to admit that any time soon.) ]

Antonio Salieri | chimera | ota

[amurder]

I. Join the Fun.
[It had been some time since Salieri allowed himself to relax within the company of several celebrating strangers. The whole thing brings about a mood of quiet contemplating for him— one that surrounds him with an air of moodiness that not even the children's pealing laughter can shake off. Of course, that's not to say he isn't trying to put a damper on the evening. No, one can surely find Salieri and all his terrible Chimera self aiding with the music and dance of the plays. Someone had shoved a guitar into his arms and a minute later he was strumming away, humming along with the rest of the band, an underlining harmony steadily joining the flow.

Salieri notices you then, and in a brief moment of repose he extends the instrument your way.] Would you like to try?

[Whether you're proficient or not hardly matters. He's looking at you very expectantly!]

II. Battle on the Streets
[It was, at first, a mere thought that things were going far too well.

He hardly thinks to curse that time now, when he looked over the smiling crowds and wondered if such precarious happiness would continue to last. He's not always so pessimistic, but with the way this world seems to give and take— to flourish and to burn... it was hard not to doubt.

Now Salieri wonders why he bothered.

Morgana's magic is like heat rising from fractured volcanic grounds. It bristles his fur and sends a restlessness throughout his entire being. There's an inherent need to defend his own— to protect his Bonded, their home and their neighbors. But once he realizes the impact of their attack and the true victims behind it— well... he simply cannot let it lie.

One can find Salieri aiding in the efforts to keep the amount of aggressive dead to a minimum. Fire licks at his claws each time he sends out an attack and brings down yet another shambling dead Monster. To know these were once fellow inhabitants of their city does nothing to quell the growing frustration and disgust rising in his chest. Not even the dead can rest here. Not even the dead are safe.

There's suddenly the sound of a rifle firing quite close to you— enough that you may feel compelled to run or dodge. Soon there's another and another—

A necromancer falls near your feet. Hovering close is a strange white-cloaked familiar floating a few feet off the ground. Strange skeletal arms protrude from their cloaks, but perhaps even stranger are the rifles they seem to wield with ease. The familiar seems to acknowledge you and gives a cordial little wave.

Salieri approaches, looking worn out but otherwise mostly unscathed.] Ah, apologies if you were startled. Pay no mind to them.

Are you injured? [Turns out there's quite a few of these floating guys around! And maybe thankfully, since it seems there are more dead still stalking about in search of sleeping victims.]

III. Wildcard.
[You can find Salieri either attempting to protect the sleeping residents or carrying a few to safer places. He'll be using both his Servant abilities as well as his Chimera fire abilities to keep the necromancers and their muscle at bay, so feel free to message for any ideas or simply leave a starter here!]

[unyieldingmarch]

[Edelgard snorts, the blade's enchanted edge gleaming in the firelight.]

Don't count on that.

[She moves with a burst of inhuman speed, blurring as she charges towards Lightning, fuzzing out and bursting into mist just before colliding with the woman. The momentum of her rush carries the cloud of Vampire through the witch and she emerges just on the other side of one of Drummond's necromancers. Spinning, she cleaves the man's head from his shoulders with a swift slash and rounds in time to deflect a spell launched at her on the flat of the blade. That caster blinks, stunned, before starting to flee at her approach.

It's good to remember that witches are still just people.

It'd been worked with all sorts of defensive magic when she'd had it forged, a precaution. And she's all too eager to use it.]

Re: festivities

[unyieldingmarch]

[Edelgard has paid vague attention to the strange avatar, but she hasn't really paid much attention to it beyond that. The voice is enough to tell her who it is, though.]

...Hello. [A pause.]

Some sort of illusion?

[long_live_the_queen]

[Its head was still attached! And it was still twitching. But there wasn't much the undead Monster could do with its body crumpled up like a soda can.

The necromancer turned to the shadows, irritation rather than fear on their controlled features; their Orders didn't include fear, only to sow as much chaos and ruin as possible. One of the Witch's thralls jumped in front of the blast, this one so rotted it was unclear who or what it used to be, barely held together by wires of sinew. It scattered into crumbling bones, its destruction splitting the necromancer's attention back to Chariot again.

Kaede didn't waste the opportunity; the shadows gathered and coalesced into a solid shape, four-legged and hastily thrown together. She lunged, a bit too far out of range--but it didn't matter, as the necromancer threw up a barrier. The Chimera all but bounced off of it in a burst of erratic light, her claws dragging sparks down the crackling surface before the field repulsed her away.

The light burned away the shadows wholesale, but rather than a weakened Kaede dropping out of it, the shadows changed--adapted, and what fell from the dark landed on its feet. It resembled a tiger--a full one, more red than orange, but with traces of feathering edging the legs and the tail that lashed behind the creature. It was Kaede's antlers that branched from the tiger's head, though, and the same intense anger that burned through the Bond.]

[unyieldingmarch]

[Were it anyone else, she'd probably have cleaved his hand off at the wrist with the silver of her sword. But, she recognizes Felix.

And she also recognizes the Nucklavees, and knows well the danger.

Nodding, the Emperor turns slowly to look back at the creatures that are currently padding down the street.

Looking to the children, she points up, towards the rooftop, and gives him a querying look.]

[unyieldingmarch]

[Edelgard turns when she feels Byleth approach, her movements stiff and jerky, a strangely bloated feeling in her belly. She hasn't resisted the urge to drink blood tonight. Quite the contrary, she's sated herself and done her best to ensure that these slavers died painfully. Savagely. Things likely evident in the bond.

Much like the relief that floods through her right now.]

You're not hurt badly, are you?

I-A

[amurder]

[The varying array of emotions rising from the crowds tonight are tumultuous. Salieri can sense it in the air— a mingling of joy and sorrow here, a hint of pride there, but otherwise everything is blanketed by a radiant contentedness. He can appreciate that, at least... considering what the former residents of Dorchacht had endured.

And not just them it seems. Salieri isn't very good at approaching quietly (anymore) but he manages the best he can, his arms crossed over his chest.] I'm fear mumbling will get you nowhere tonight, Elliot.

[Not when the children are noisily enjoying the evening at least.]

[hegemonwings]

[ byleth shakes her head, trying to draw herself out of her own mind. she doesn't feel entirely present, the haze of battle and bloodshed still lingering. she's there with edelgard in the bond, but even that has something of an incompleteness to it.

she wonders if she's not as accustomed to battle as she used to be. still, a slight smile crosses her face at edelgard's concern. ]

Nothing that can't be fixed. [ put her in front of a mirror and she could heal all of it herself. ] And you?