middaeg | [Open] Catch All for January (Some closed prompts)

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[Open] Catch All for January (Some closed prompts)

Who: Edelgard von Hresvelg and You!
When: Pre-Snatched Plot, some Post potentially
Where: Dorchacht and Aefenglom
What: A Catchall
Warnings: Possibly discussions of torture, war, and 3 Houses Spoiler Warnings.

Tarnished Reality

[Unsure of what to expect when she stepped through the teleporter, Edelgard had gone fully prepared for the worst, insisting on wearing her scarlet battle armor, with her axe strapped in a leather thong across her back. When she found the city nothing like what she had been told, she'd initially been puzzled, but as it became more apparent that she was not going to be troubled she found herself relaxing fractionally.

Her changes were making it more difficult to function during the day, so she'd come at dusk, well rested and ready to explore the city. Moving among the people, her outlander dress marking her as a Mirrorbound as surely as the unusual battleaxe she carried, the Emperor was quiet through most of her wanderings. The sounds of a scuffle up ahead of her current path drew her up short, though and she stopped and looked around a corner.]

It seems all is not well. [Mumbled, but audible enough for any nearby to hear.] Do you think we should aid the guard?

Bond Lessons

[It's strange seeing other Mirrorbound being pulled up onto the stage, but so far she has avoided being ensnared herself. Watching the goings on is interesting enough, though, but she's still a little uncomfortable with it. So, she slides through the fringes of the crowd towards another unmolested Mirrorbound.]

Eager, are they not?

Home

[Edelgard has made it a point to attempt to win over support from the aristocracy early on, including personally investigating the Mist that had settled in there. The few supporters she'd managed to charm haven't quite turned on her, but when she makes her way out of the district she can feel something building. Tensions are rising, a thing she is extremely familiar with, and that's going to potentially be a problem.

It's not until she leaves the district and makes her way towards the Haven, the cool and crisp night air making her more alert than she might otherwise be, that she senses something amiss.

Eyes narrowed, she pokes her head around the mouth of an alley to see two graffiti artists hard at work. With an exasparated sigh she turns to wave a passing Mirrorbound over.]

Look at this nonsense...

Wildcard

[If you want to plot something out, in Dorch, out of it, a quest, anything else? HMU at

intercession and let's figure it out!]

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You have the right of it, sir. I do prefer to be charitable where I can, though.

[Edelgard's eyes flicker from the man to the troublemakers. She's got the sense that he knows his way around a fight, a warrior's instinct, and that helps.

Frowning slightly, she lowers her hand to the pommel of the short-sword she's begun to keep at her waist in place of the enormous axe she'd carried since she arrived.]

I should think you enough to handle the pair of them. I would prefer to frighten them into reconsidering their actions rather than actually hurt them. If you'd be willing to assist in that, I'd like to attempt it first.

[She gives the man another considering glance, and a firm nod.]

However the atmosphere is beginning to grow more and more strained of late. So if they do not back down, I will take the one on the left. The blonde man.

[In spite of himself, Diarmuid smiles. Not only does she hold herself like a lady but she talks like a commander and he's always responded well to a little military influence. He nods and turns his attention back to the vandals, that stray curl of his bouncing.]

... ah, a much better plan. [The smile grows a little sheepish.] You've clearly more patience for them than I do. I'll follow your lead.

[They should act quickly, though; he doubts that either of the men will be sticking around much longer than they have to and any sign of opposition is sure to send them scurrying back under whatever rock they crawled out of.]

Excellent. Thank you, sir.

[With that settled, the Emperor of Adrestia moves around the corner in a sudden and precise motion, never breaking stride, just continuing to march on ahead. Brusquely, she holds out one hand, barking out a question to Diarmuid that has the vandals turning to stare in temporary, overawed silence.]

Sir, what have the Parliament and the Coven said about the situation of these refugees? Were they to be welcomed, or to be treated as criminals, wastrels, and threats?

[It's a simple question. The answer is of course that they're not to be treated poorly. Obviously these men know the true answer, but she hopes hearing someone else say the truth will shame them somehow.]

To be welcomed and given the dignity that they were robbed of.

[The two men exchange a brief, wary look- and then the taller of the two tugs down his scarf and, perhaps presuming her to be more easily intimidated, fixes Edelgard with a stern look. Even in the darkness, the ridged of scarred skin along the side of his face- claw marks, perhaps?- are unmissable.

"You don't have the right to lecture me, outsider. We wouldn't even be in this situation without your meddling- the Cywld is enough of a problem without all of this bullshit!"

As much as his tone grates, Diarmuid keeps his expression neutral, his voice calm and reasonable; Edelgard wanted to solve this without violence and he'll see it done.]

... but it is a problem we will have better luck tackling with greater numbers and trust, is it not?

[She is decidedly the shortest of the group currently in the alleyway, but Edelgard's steely gaze and unperturbed demeanor are entirely unchanged. She's seen scarred men, she's fought the divine and the unholy, and nothing this man is likely to be able to do will so much as ruffle her feathers.]

I have every right. [She says simply, her tone crisp and dismissive.]

We Mirrorbound were taken from our homes against our will and placed in this situation, as I am sure you are well aware. We have endeavored to assist your Coven with matters pertaining the Cwyld, among other things. I myself have worked with the Wilders and the guard both outside the walls and inside to help quell riots and looting.

[She takes another step forward, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword, eyes hard. Maybe this won't end without violence, given the man's tone. She wouldn't be heartbroken to fail at that.]

I have put myself on the line for a city that is not my home, to ensure the safety of those that dwell here. That gives me every right to call out a coward seeking to frighten and belittle helpless men, women and children who could be of assistance in dealing with the many dangers of this world.

My companion is right.

[The man's mouth twitches slightly, words forming but never leaving it as he struggles to come up with a suitable reply. But while he's clearly furious- and no closer to any sympathetic viewpoint- Diarmuid has to resist the urge to congratulate her out loud. An eloquent, bold speech. Not only does she have a military sense of purpose but an admirable ability to put it into words. Judging by the hand on her sword, she won't struggle with putting it into action either.

Regardless, he offers her a short but elegant bow.]

Well said, my lady. [As he glancess back over at the man, his smile fades.] For every life unsettled, there have been two more saved either directly or indirectly by the actions of my fellow Mirrorbound in this city. You insult both our honour to say otherwise and my pride as a knight to suggest we should allow you to terrorize innocent people. I would advise you not to test our patience.

[That's the last he'll say on the matter. Even if he were one for speeches, he's happy to submit to the superior orator here. It's always been in his nature to follow, after all.

As it turns out, he doesn't get a choice anyway. The man glances at his friend, now slightly red in the face, and nods. In a flash of movement, the smaller of the two lunges forward, hood falling back to reveal a pair of long, brown rabbit ears. Rather than try to strike either of them, though, he hurls the contents of his bucket in their direction.]

Edited 2020-01-14 19:58 (UTC)

[Edelgard, pleased with the effect her words seem to have had on her companion at least, does not relax her guard. She's expecting an attack, doubly so when the smaller man confers with his friend, so she's more than ready when he rushes forward.

Edelgard leaps to the side, avoiding most of the spraying paint, a few flecks of it splattering her cheeks as it passes by and still more coat her boots and the hem of her cloak.

Turning up her nose, she regards the pair with obvious disdain.]

Are you finished, or must we endure more childish tantrums?

[The answer comes soon enough: more tantrums. With a grunt of frustration, the puca snatches up the smaller bucket and swings it around again- but, once more, very little of its contents find their mark. Diarmuid is quick to react, tearing his cloak off of his shoulders and using it to shield Edelgard from the second wave. Crimson paint pools around their feet, garish even where the lamplight doesn't reach.

"Shit-"

The tension in the air hasn't dispersed at all- in fact, it's grown more concentrated- but at least they've run out of things to throw...?]

... the first throw I was willing to forgive. The second, though? [He tosses the cloak aside, mouth setting into a grim line.] That was a mistake. Do I have your permission to see it punished, my lady?

[Edelgard would be impressed with his chivalry if she weren't so annoyed that it was necessary at all. She's done her best to let these hooligans have opportunities to back down without injuring her own pride, and without letting them off the hook.

This has clearly failed.]

You do, sir knight.

[She steps back, hand ready on her sword's hilt in case he needs help. Yet at the same time imagines that he probably does not.]

I only ask that you do not leave them unable to walk.

Edited (wording) 2020-01-17 15:52 (UTC)

[Unsurprisingly, faced with two agitated Mirrorbound and no more projectiles, the puca visibly hesitates. His bright eyes flicker between Diarmuid and Edelgard, searching for weak points or, more likely, an escape route. For a moment, it seems as though he might actually make a run for it- Diarmuid certainly wouldn't have stopped him except to scare him into better manners- but then his companion steps forward and cracks his knuckles.

"I didn't want things to get messy, you know. You asked for this."

And then the match is on. The man swings for him, fist cutting a heavy arc through the air that would have surely left quite the bruise had it found its mark. Diarmuid's footwork is clean and quick and precise, giving him ample room to not only dodge blows but lead his opponent to just where he wants him. With a hiss of frustration, the man throws another punch in his direction- only for his fist to crunch into the very wall he was just vandalizing.

The lancer is back at Edelgard's side just in time to see the puca turn tail- "It's not worth it, let's just go already-!"- and flee, slipping in the paint in his eagerness to get away.]

Well, now...! Two on one hardly seems fair. Shall we call it?

[Maybe he spoke too soon. Even having been abandoned doesn't appear to have put the other man off. In fact, as he turns back, the first sparks of magic flicker around his knuckles as he heals whatever damage might have been done.

Ah, so he's an artist and a witch. Grand.]

[Edelgard watches quietly, taking in the movements, the motions, and the ease of which her companion seemingly handles the vandal. She had not wanted to interfere, but the moment the conflict escalates beyond fists, the Emperor moves on reflex, her instincts fueled by years of combat. Combat against mages, in particular.

She may not have her armor on, the spellwrought plate that so easily protected her on the battlefield, but she knows what she's doing.

Moving with inhuman speed, her lips peeling back to reveal a pair of long, white fangs, Edelgard whips forward and grabs the man's wrist. With a casual flick of her hand, aided by her vampiric strength, she twists. A wrenching, wet popping sound echoes in the alleyway and the big man screams as the delicate bones give way beneath her attack.]

It did not have to come to this...

[Moving forward like a bull, she shoves the stunned man face-first into the wall, deftly maneuvering behind him in the process. Leaning in, violet eyes flashing like thunderheads, she growls out:]

Give in, or I will do something that will not heal.

[Edelgard is a blur of motion beside him: one minute she's watching their fight, the next he has the man pinned against the wall like a butterfly. But it isn't her speed that catches Diarmuid off guard or even her strength, so elegantly on show in that simple but perfectly executed counter- it's the flash of sharp teeth as her lips part. So, unless she had those before arriving here, it isn't a mage he finds himself fighting alongside but a monster. Interesting. Inconsequential, in the grand scheme of things, but interesting nonetheless.

Regardless, she clearly doesn't need his help. Diarmuid simply shakes his head and saunters over, leaning forward slightly to meet the man's eyes. In spite of all his quiet fury, breath coming in ragged huffs against the stonework, the threat of further violence alone seems to have stilled him for now. There's paint smeared across his cheek to match the crimson on his knuckles.]

I would do as she says. [He glances back at Edelgard, head cocked to the side.] You'll let him go with a warning, won't-

[That doesn't go down well. The man rears up again and, in the few moments he's free, spits directly at him- and it hits.

Diarmuid's eyes flash with anger, his jaw tightening as he wipes the saliva off of his cheek.]

... charming.

[Edelgard fully intended to allow the man to leave and nurse his broken wrist. She'd even backed off her hold enough so that she wouldn't do more damage when he'd begun to rage again.

But when he continues...persisting in this behavior, she decides that perhaps that this just needs to stop. Here and now, before his pride and foolishness force the knight to act in defense of his honor, and before he forces Edelgard to do more damage than she wants. So, she goes in to end the conflict for good. Her hand whips out hard, striking the vandal cleanly in the solar plexus and knocking the breath from his lungs.

She follows this up with a vicious, ringing slap to the side of his head, cuffing him hard enough to rebound his head against the wall and lay him out completely. Blood drips from a cut on his head, and it takes considerable effort for her to turn away without staring at it.]

...He had his warning. A pity he did not take it.

[She moves faster than he does- and it's probably a good thing. Diarmuid isn't one to respond to slights with violence but it's one more on top of a pile and he's not about to take it without retaliation. Insult aside, he was already on unsteady ground; there's little sympathy in his heart for a man with none for others. As it turns out, though, his hands go unbloodied. The vandal drops to the ground with one final wheeze before he passes out completely.

For a few moments, Diarmuid stands silent, letting the adrenaline fade from his body- and then he glances over at Edelgard.]

Aye. He did- but I thank you for your restraint; I don't think I would have had the same amount of self-control. [Shaking his head, he retrieves a handkerchief from his breast pocket and offers it to her for the paint still flecked across her cloak and skin.] Here.

[Next, he kneels beside the man to check his pulse. No doubt, it looks far more gruesome than it actually is thanks to the puddle of paint he's lying in.]

[It does doubtless look far more messy than it would otherwise be. The head-wound oozes with blood, but no more than a cut to the scalp normally would. He'll be perfectly fine, if his pulse is any indication. His unhindered breathing also helps allay any worry Edelgard might have had that she'd killed him.]

Thank you.

[She dabs at her cheek, wiping away the fresh paint. The speckles on her cloak, she decides, can stay for the wash. Easier that way.]

I do not suffer bullies to go unpunished, and I am glad that I am not alone in that.. I hope that this...incident...will be a warning to others.

[Had it been anything more, he would have used a simple healing spell but Edelgard's strike was measured and careful. He'll be just fine. Diarmuid straightens up.]

Mmm. [His brow furrows just slightly.] But if it were to become an... issue, I would gladly stand as witness for you.

Ah- but forgive my manners, my lady. I am Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, Knight of the Fianna.

[With that, he dips into a simple but elegant bow, holding the position for as long as ettiquette would demand while standing before a noblewoman. Truthfully, her rank doesn't matter; she carries herself impressively and acts with more dignity than many royals.]

Who did I have the honour of fighting alongside?

Edited 2020-01-30 21:43 (UTC)

[His manners are impressive enough, and appreciated. Edelgard's head dips in a simple acknowledgement, that of a royal to a favored knight. He's earned her respect, yes, though her upbringing has yet to break her of all the habits one associates with royals.]

I am Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg of the Adrestian Empire.

[She extends a gloved hand, all too happy to offer a warmer, less formal greeting. A handshake is simple enough, even with her aversion to touch, most of the time.]

It has been an honor, Sir Duibhne. And a pleasure.

[An Emperor. It doesn't surprise him in the slightest to hear that she really is of noble birth- and neither does her use of the title over "empress". Diarmuid takes her hand in his and shakes it firmly, eyes bright with the warmth of a friendly smile.]

The same to you. I'm only sorry that we didn't meet under more pleasant circumstances. [With a sigh, he glances back at the man lying prone behind them and, while his smile only fades a little, he sounds less confident.] It doesn't seem as though things will settle down any time soon, though.

[On the contrary, he expects the climate to only grow more temperamental the longer both the refugees and Mirrorbound are here.]

No.

[Edelgard nods her agreement, looking down at the fallen ruffian.]

I have seen tensions like this before. The city is reaching a boiling point. It will spill over soon. We should be prepared for a storm.

[And what a storm it shall be.]

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[Open] Catch All for January (Some closed prompts)

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I hope you don't mind me taking a few liberties with this!

Not at all! Feel free!

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ugh I'm sorry, my internet keeps going out

np my dude take your time!

little cw for broken bones.

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