open.

[rightfully]

ᴡʜᴏ: Lucina! And you!
ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ: All around the Temple of Beginnings.
ᴡʜᴇɴ: Early October, pre-caves.
ʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ: G - PG at most.
ᴡʜᴀᴛ: Whatever your heart desires. Also: prompts below the cut.


» ғɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ ʀɪɴɢ.

[ Getting used to this new existence with its promise of effort - a home she hadn't exactly asked for, but wasn't complaining over - Lucina certainly can't allow her forms to slacken or her muscles to grow lazy with disuse. The two-handed sword is her weapon of choice, typically, although she has trained on other things (thank you, Fire Emblem Heroes)—today, Falchion is loyally in her hands.

...Metaphorically loyally. She still likes to believe her inherited sword is loyal to her, the way it picks and chooses among Naga's scions with a finesse that borders on cruel.

Why would that be in doubt?

Well, the training dummy has managed to disarm her and refuses to let go. Falchion protrudes from the left hand it mysteriously has, wooden fingers wrapped around the hilt.

She has been trying to get it to relinquish the blade for the past ten minutes. Kicking it does not work. Striking it in center mass does not work.

(Walking away will work, but that's not in Lucina's repetoire. Hopefully someone will suggest that to her.)

Maybe... maybe begging will work? ]

Please return Falchion to me.

[ Stony, smiling silence. Ridiculously, Lucina's voice cracks like a whip. ] It will not even work for you! [ Who would like to walk onto this mess? ]

» ᴋɪᴛᴄʜᴇɴs.

[ Fortunately, Lucina is at least somewhat familiar with rationing, although life here is hardly comparable to the ascetic necessity of her sundered future. She knows precisely how much a person can live on without losing too much muscle mass - getting to prepare her meals beyond that limitation is a luxury she's still growing used to. She has yet to eat the alloted breakfast portion in its entirety without saving a little over for lunch, but with all the sickness going around (and her own arguable bout, that she denies and affirms in turn—Lords Don't Get Sick, except when they do) she's put a little extra energy in ensuring people are fed.

This prompt will not be as long as the previous one.

As soon as someone enters, she smiles over at them from her position above an oven. A large pot bubbles placidly, efficiently stewed meats lending an edible aroma to the air. ]

Good day, friend. Would you care for some soup?

[ She... she doesn't really know how to make anything else. ]

» ᴡɪʟᴅᴄᴀʀᴅ.

( Anything else! Lucina can likely be found making herself useful in whatever degree, training in the fighting ring, or wandering the forest. If you'd like to plot something, feel free to hit me up via PM to this account, but I'm usually down for whatever. c: )

Comments

fighting ring

[p_mortem]

[ Rather than actively using the fighting ring, Minato's taken to playing the part of a spectator, sitting on the sidelines and hidden away as best he can as not to be a bother while he watches others practice, a certain intensity in his gaze- focused, scrutinizing, memorizing- as he does so.

There is... only so much of this he can watch, though, before Minato pushes off the wall of the little nook he'd found. He pulls his hands out of his pockets, and Lucina- if she notices his approach in time- would see something bright red roll on the palm of his hand before a knife blinks into existence.

This he silently holds out to her. Fight for your sword back. That's the fair way to do it, right? If using a plain kitchen knife against the Falchion is fair. ]

[rightfully]

[ She doesn't notice him when he was merely spectating aimlessly by the side, but as he approaches, Lucina takes quick attention - through the corner of her eye, tracking movement like it could be a threat, even though it turns out to be benign. Helpful, even.

Falchion is dull as a stone in the dummy's hands, Naga's blessing ineffectual outwith those She chooses. That doesn't mean it is useless as a weapon, however. Even something dull and blunted can pack quite a punch. Occasionally, it flails at her, and she's forced to bat it back with a barehanded defensive strike.

At a stalemate, she glances over at Minato... and then the knife. ]

Are you certain?

[ She gets it but something about this plan feels... flawed, somehow. ]

[p_mortem]

[ Minato has to duck out of the way before he gets whacked upside the head with the flat end of the sword, but it's done with the ease of somebody who has some instinct— or habit— built in and he stares the dummy down for a second. At least the thing is stuck in place in the ground, and he shuffles out of the way so that he's just outside of reach so that doesn't happen again. ]

I don't have anything better on me, [ he says, in case that's where Lucina is having doubts. But if that's not it, then- ]

If you're not confident in it, I could try fighting.

[rightfully]

[ Very seriously, because she's a loser -- ]

Thank you, but no. I don't require someone else fight on my behalf.

[ Her fingers fold around the kitchen knife and... well, no guarantees it'll be an effective weapon but it's better than her bare hands (maybe). A quick slash across the dummy's midsection and the blade glances off the smooth wood without making so much as a crease.

It responds by striking out with Falchion...

Toward Minato! SURPRISE ]

>kitchens!!

[resistivity]

( the curse of mako's recent life, of course, is the unnecessary meddling in his love life. he's resolved to ignore it, keep his head down, mostly... carry on as usual, but every once in a while he'll run into or recognize someone that was party to it and immediately all that resolve will crumble away and wither.

honestly, if she hadn't immediately addressed him he would have backed out of the room spluttering with his hands held up in a gesture of defense. but he can't really manage it without being weird in the wake of her offering, and even though the internal cringe is... prevalent, he sort of forces an awkward smile. )

Uh... no, no thanks, I'm good. Just...

( he holds a messenger bag aloft where it hangs along his side. obviously, it's full of important stuff. )

— Coming to make pork buns. I'll try to stay out of your way.

[rightfully]

[ Lucina recognises this gentleman! Well, sort of. What she recognises is Bolin's flawless impersonation, or something similar, and the odd conversation that had followed it. ("Lady Justice"? That's something she still wonders about, in idle fashion.) The fact that he is the man in question isn't the reason she offered, though - she would have done that regardless of who he was.

This is all very weird. And Mako, for whatever reason, is onl succeeding to make it weirder. She blinks a little... And what could be a quick, easily ended encounter is lengthened when he uses words unfamiliar to her, causing her undivided attention to snap into place.

What are pork buns? Are they good? They sound good. They're food! Food she hasn't eaten! They aren't even insects! (...Don't ask.) ]

There's no need to be concerned, [ she tells him kindly. ] You're hardly in my way.

[ A pause. It's clear she wants to say more. ]

Um, what are... pork buns?

[resistivity]

( that resolve keeps crumbling. mako sets the messenger bag down on the counter, and starts taking ingredients out of it. he's a cop, first and foremost. but being here has resulted in rather a lot of free time on his hands, and he's got people that need to stay fed. mako's always enjoyed cooking — growing up the son of a grocer will do that to you, probably — and it's a good way to keep himself occupied. )

Well, it's... meat. Inside a bun.

( he is The Best at explaining things. he gives her a sideways glance. it's sort of... calculating, in a manner of speaking, as if he's weighing his options. then, )

Do you want to learn how to make them?

kitchens

[fairysong]

[Once upon a time, Sheryl had to ration food, because she never knew when she'd be able to scrounge up her next meal. But after that, her life had been a glamorous one, a comfortable one. And even if the Macross Frontier had had to ration food near the end, it's not really a habit she's in.

Which, of course, would be a conversation for another day, because she's famished and coming in for an early breakfast, having not slept all that well.]

Soup?

...what kind of soup?

[rightfully]

Well... There are bits of meat and some steamed potato, so I suppose it's more of a stew.

[ She lifts up a ladle (that she had been holding this whole time! honest!) with its dipper filled near to the brim with hot, pleasant looking broth and a few ingredients floating within. She had been able to find some carrots as well, largely by holding them back from her own breakfast the last few days. ]

[fairysong]

[Stew. Just the name sounds so quaint. How long has it been since she's eaten something that could be properly termed a stew?

Well, she's hungry.] You know what? I'll give it a try, if you're offering.

I haven't seen you cook before. Special occasion?

Kitchen, backdated to whenever it works out timeline wise lol

[bleps]

No thank you. I don’t require soup.

[The figure at the entrance of the kitchen strikes a familiar silhouette. It’s Connor, wearing his usual smile that he always conjures up as a greeting. Hands clasped formally behind his back, he steps forward, close enough to peer into the bubbling pot.]

Though I’m certain others will appreciate both the effort and the offer.

[He glances at her, not bothering to hide a scrutinizing eye beneath the amicability. She seems better — good. That’s his first concern, one that he can slowly begin to check off of his to-do list of checking on all of his friends.]

...I do have something for you however. Your watch.

[rightfully]

[ - ah, right. Lucina's composure trembles for just a moment - a flush touching her cheeks very briefly before disappearing. Connor being what he is (whatever he is) she's at least figured out that it's unlikely he eats. The offer feels a bit thoughtless in that respect. She had responded to the sound of his footsteps rather than the sight of his face, that's all. Yeah.

Anyway, she's had some network interaction since giving him her watch so this is probably days in the past! Good thing she's a time traveler and he's, like, an alien or whatever. ]

Oh. Thank you, Connor.

[ she didn't actually! miss it! ...time to put this clunky, breakable thing on her wrist again and hope it doesn't scream at her. (It always screams at her.)

Regardless, Connor did her a favour. She's pleasant enough in response, smiling a little more easily now. ]

I hope it was not too difficult to repair.

[bleps]

[Timelines are for squares anyway. They’ve just rewound the flowchart a little.]

Not at all. Here. Let me show you — it wasn’t very difficult at all.

[Which is a strange thing to say, isn’t it? It’s not like Connor is reaching into his pocket to hand her the watch, but rather he turns and moves to a small, walk-in pantry connected to the kitchen.

Within, there’s a large bag of rice. Connor bends down, and casually sticks his... hand in it. A bit of rustling and he plucks out Lucina’s watch with the soft rustling noise of shifting, well, rice.

Turning to face her, watch held out:]

Here you are.

[HIGH TECH SOLUTIONS FROM A HIGH TECH ANDROID]

fighting ring

[parttimes]

[Kou actually doesn't spend much time at the fighting rings--he doesn't really fight for fun, though he understands the worth of sparring--though lately he's come here to practice his martial arts more.

So his trademark hoodie and long-sleeved uniform blazer are off, piled off to one side and leaving him in just a T-shirt, as he comes over to take a look at what the commotion is all about over here, and that's...

Hm.]

... It's a sword, isn't it? What do you mean it won't work? [Swords are pretty straightforward, he thought... though he's hopping the fence to come closer anyway.]

[rightfully]

Well, it's rather... unique.

[ Swords should be straightforward! Honestly, there's no logical reason why it only bears a sharp edge when one of Naga's chosen wields it. Lucina just goes with it because why would she ever question her matriarchal deity? ]

Only select individuals can use it to its full extent. In the hands of anyone else—

[ Lucina demonstrates by, uh, pressing the palm of her hand against the blade's edge, pushing in just so deeper - to add some theatrics to her point. She always was a bit of a show off.

She'll show him the results in a second! ]

[parttimes]

[Thankfully, he's pretty used to magic.

On the other hand? He's also a normal teen, so he does jerk when she does that, reaching out.]

H-hey, wait, are you--

fighting ring

[besieging]

[ If there's one place Ephraim can easily and regularly be found, it'd definitely the fighting ring.

And Lucina's training, whenever he happens to catch her at it, gets a bit more attention from him than most, he is unashamed to admit - because it's hard not to be impressed by someone who took him out in their first match, despite having the disadvantage of weapon type. (The weapons triangle is a thing, after all! An important thing! And Lucina made it her bitch. He loves that.) ]

This being a combat situation, I suppose that diplomacy works no better on this than on most foes.

[rightfully]

No, I suppose not.

[ Disarmed as she is, Lucina hardly feels formidable. Her hand hovers at an empty spot at her hip, near where Falchion's hilt would be if it was still in its scabbard. The effect is decidedly more awkward without something to fill the space there.

Belatedly, she gives him a glance over her shoulder - eyes flickering back to the dummy briefly, and then settling on Ephraim more surely. ]

Good morning, Ephraim. [ Executive decision: it's morning. ] This must look fairly underwhelming. [ Her smile indicates she isn't nearly as bothered by that prospect as she could be. ]

[besieging]

[ I'm going to start writing like it's evening now just in protest - ]

Good morning.

[ Or not. ]

Underwhelming to a stranger, perhaps, but I've seen enough to know better.

[ And it was quite whelming. ]

kitchens

[isaz]

[ The man who steps into the kitchen strikes a sharp image - and not just in his manner. He wears an undershirt whose stitch patterns suggest the absence of an accompanying cloak; the sleeves rolled up to expose slim hands and well-kept nails. Though, what might be most obvious are the pair of horns on his head and the crystalline tint to his eyes, very much reptilian.

Meat is a necessity back home, as it is here. He has to wonder if this woman is a hunter, too. ]

I would, if it isn't too much trouble. It smells well-made.

[ He intended to cook but it seems she's beaten him to it ]

[rightfully]

It's no trouble at all.

[ Despite the relative severity of her expression (it's just how her face is, really), Lucina's tone is gentle. Having fought alongside taguel and manakete, she notes his incongruent little features but makes no comment on them.

As for his query - no, not exactly. Not a hunter by trade, but many skills had to be picked up in the name of survival.

Lucina works deftly, if not in any especial hurry, setting out a few bowls and ladling out from the pleasantly simmering stewpot. ]

Do you take it with bread?

[ What a... medieval question. ]

[isaz]

[ Medieval indeed, but he too is from a region of similar medieval customs, so he has no problems adjusting. ]

I don't mind, if it is how you are to eat it.

[ When in Rome, act like the Romans. Or whichever equivalent Rome is, for a world that did not contain Rome, or humans from Earth at all ]

Thank you.

kitchens

[runwaying]

[ the soup does smell hearty and delicious, and it in fact actually can be smelt from a few corridors over, which is the reason why arashi is standing in the kitchen in the first place, having tracked down the scent from outside.

the prospect of food and well, having that many people around to share it, does cause arashi to brighten somewhat, taking a few empty bowls with her from one of the communal stores. ]

I would love to, if you wouldn't mind~ ♪ Did you make it? Would there be enough for me to bring back to my unit mates, actually?

[rightfully]

[ She's quite pleased that Arashi takes to her offer so readily. Mostly because she... well, she made way too much. ]

Of course. Please, help yourself.

[ How many bowls are needed? She'll start to gather some crockery. ]

[runwaying]

[ she's not about to turn down the prospect of free food, especially since izumi's still not well enough and she's not letting him anywhere near a stove anytime soon, so.

she'll start to gather up a tray that's big enough for three more bowls since there's three people to feed. ]

Is this your own recipe? It smells really different from what I'm used to. In a good way, I promise~