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

[parttimes]

[Don't worry, Lucina, he doesn't intend on doing anything to hurt the sword, either.

Kou inspects the dummy for a moment, stepping closer, settling into a martial arts stance that is honestly far too calm and steady to be anything but well-practiced.

When the dummy finally moves to strike (with that blunted weapon, really, the worse Kou could get here is a bruise), he steps neatly to one side, grabs the hilt of the sword in one hand and the dummy's army in the other. It's a quick, practiced movement, so quick it's only a matter of seconds; he puts pressure on the hand on the dummy's arm, enough to flip it, while adding opposing pressure to the sword hilt.

The dummy flips to the ground.

The sword remains in Kou's hand.

(That, probably, is something he practiced thousands of times in his grandfather's dojo. He's just...never really gotten to use it for real.)]

[rightfully]

[ Lucina watches, looking at least slightly nervous to see another handle Falchion. She knows that's a rather ungracious response to have to someone's kindness, though, so she tables it as best she can. The tip of the blade whistles melodiously as it curves through the air, the pommel landing so neatly in Kou's hand.

That...

That's quite impressive! ]

That was well done!

[ And then, the words practically tripping over one another - ]

Would you be willing to teach me that maneuver?

[parttimes]

[This is the only time I'll ever allow him to be cool in front of her, so enjoy it while it lasts.

He carefully offers her the sword, propping a hand on his hip as she... well, enthuses at him.]

Ah... well...

[It's embarrassing to get that sort of praise from her; he gets the sense she's not the sort of person who hands it out lightly from how serious her demeanor generally is.]

I can try? I'm not any sort of master or anything, but if you're okay with that... I've been teaching Rion and Akira throws, so I can try teaching you some too.

[rightfully]

[ Without a moment to waste, Lucina takes her sword back, hand sure and firm around the hilt. The less it's in someone else's hands, the better. Back in the scabbard is best of all and it ends up exactly there, the hiss of metal sliding against leather punctuating the rightness of it. ]

Whatever you are willing to show you. I certainly don't wish to importune upon your time.

[ It doesn't take her long to go back to prim and formal. ]

[parttimes]

Hey, don't think of it like that.

[He waves that off with a shake of his head.]

I've got nothing but time here. But I'm sure you know that martial arts and fighting is best taught by masters of the technique. Just want you to know that I'm nowhere close to that--but if you're okay with that, I'll do what I can.

[Kou is a good, conscientious boy about things like this.]

I meant "show me" not "show you"... hangs head in shame...

[rightfully]

Yes, when it can be, but life isn't always that ideal.

[ Lucina, sometimes you say really bleak things under the impression that they're realistic or practical (or even nice! they're not nice!) ]

You are kind and you are willing. I could think of no better teacher.

[ That's better. ]

shhh it's fine i knew what you meant

[parttimes]

[... So earnest, jeeze... Kou doesn't know what to do with that level of earnest sincerity! It's just like Sora...

Maybe blue-haired people are just Like That.]

... Anyway, yeah, we'll make it happen. So... now that the sword's back in your hands, it works like a proper sword again?

[rightfully]

Yes, that's correct. In my hands, or the hands of any Branded.

[ She pauses, tapping next to her eye. The brightened one, stamped visibly by the crest of her bloodline. In the sunshine, it should be easy enough for him to see. ]

Presently, that only includes my immediate family.

[parttimes]

[He can see it, but he doesn't really... get it. It sounds medieval and also a little metal to have a "brand" like that.]

Is that... like a bloodline thing or something? Sorry, help me understand, I'm not really used to this sort of thing. [Outside of fiction.]

[rightfully]

[ Gently, she smiles at Kou. It's clear she isn't blaming him or taking offensive at his quiet confusion. ]

I realise what might sound normal to me may not extend to everyone. Why don't we sit down? I can answer your questions in better detail.

[parttimes]

[... Huh...]

Sure, okay. If you don't mind, I'm cool with that.

[TIME TO CHILL FOR A BIT.]

[rightfully]

[ Huh what, little boy? ]

I don't mind at all. It will be good to rest a moment.

[ There are a few benches interspersed across the mezzanine of the fighting ring, probably, and even more outside - but it's up she heads, so they can watch the other fighters. ]

[parttimes]

[He just wasn't expecting her to take time out of her training to explain this to him...!!

So he follows along easily enough, settling when they've made it to the upper level.]

So... your life sounds increasingly complicated the more I learn about it.

[rightfully]

It's certainly been an eventful one.

[ She's not that much older than him, after all. Not really. But she feels older a great deal of the time. Even her own parents seem so young to her sometimes, and that's just - just a bewildering thought to hold onto. ]

I am fortunate to have few regrets, though.

[ She shrugs a little, rather innocently so, as if to say, "it could be worse." ]

[parttimes]

... That's good, then.

[Kou shrugs a little as well, and settles back against the bench.]

So...? Will you tell me more about this brand deal?

[rightfully]

[ A nod. ]

Yes. Hopefully it will not be too difficult to follow. I'm unused to explaining it to, well, anyone.

[ As topics about her life go, it's a fairly innocent one. She can explain it without having to go into detail about a single death! That's, like, a rare and bloodless chapter in her life. ]

Our Brand, as we call it, refers to the symbol of Naga. [ Or Grima, she thinks, and doesn't say. ] For my family, it's indelibly fixed on the skin from birth. My eye is rather unique, admittedly. My father's is on his upper arm, and - his sister's on her forehead.

[ Lady Lissa's had never surfaced, she knows, but Owain's had. That's an unnecessary complication to throw into the conversation, though, and she sidesteps it as neatly as possible. ]

[parttimes]

[Huh... He can process that much. Some sort of marking of bloodline, like how it had sounded.

But even so...]

Who's Naga...? [Or is it "what"?]

[rightfully]

Naga is the Divine Dragon. She is not technically a god, but our faith largely revolves around Her regardless. My bloodline largely gets its gifts and blessings from Her.

[ There's a faint note in her voice, not unlike faraway awe - a quiet respect. When she needs strength, there's one place her prayers go to, regardless of what Naga is or isn't... ]

[parttimes]

Huuuh... is that right...

[He supposes it makes sense. Gods, Divine Dragons...]

So... you're not just a common, everyday soldier, yeah?

[HIS RPGS TELL HIM SO. Nobody who's got a divine blessing is just a typical regular foot soldier.]

[rightfully]

[ - a
brief
pause -

On someone else, it may seem a bit squirrelly? Huh. ]

No, I... I am.

[ She is! It wasn't like she had any special role among the Shepherds, and before - after, technically - that - she only led by necessity. None else left alive to do so. ]

Nothing I told you before is untrue, Kou. In my heart, I am a soldier. No more, no less.

[parttimes]

... Look, it's fine.

[He seems to have hit some sort of...sore spot?]

I'm not going to try to pry it out of you or anything. Just an observation, I'll leave it alone now.

[rightfully]

[ Less a sore spot, really. More an awkward spot. The more special is, the more she failed. Here, she's running pretty conventionally from her failures. It's as simple (and stupid) as that. Lucina, realising that, relents a little. ]

You've said nothing wrong.

... [ Mrrr. FINE.

She relents a tiny bit more. ]

My father held the title of Exalt, as did his sister before him, and their father before them. Elsewhere, my father would have been titled a king.

[parttimes]

[... Okay so princess is super, duper far away from common foot soldier.

Like.

For the record.]

Huh, seriously?

[He doesn't sound... too surprised though. He's pretty genre-savvy to this sort of thing.]

Gotcha... well. It's not a big deal, you know? I mean, if you don't want it to be. Soldier, or Exalt-to-be, or whatever, you're still Lucina to me. That's all you have to be in a place like this.

[rightfully]

[ That draws her up a little, almost startled, and then - a smile. ]

Thank you, Kou. Myself is all I want to be.

[parttimes]

Good.

[He shrugs, nodding peacefully. She has a nice smile, so it's a much better look on her.]

Don't take it the wrong way, but rank and stuff like that doesn't mean much when we're here, so. Nothing to worry about as far as I'm concerned.