[byleth nods, and pulls out her notebook—the back of which is decorated with purikura from various people, including some selfies where she's just... posing with the sword of the creator.]
I think it's important to treasure the moments of peace.
[ His voice cuts off, something slipping through his own mind and taking them back.
Garreg Mach is a familiar sight, but not quite like this. There's people fighting and escaping in equal measure, chaos running like threads from person to person, as students and faculty weigh their loyalty for the monastery vs. their loyalty toward their own lives.
You don't feel any loyalty toward this rickety old school, but you can't deny its strategic value. Losing it in the first battle of the war would be a terrible loss.
"You're not leaving?" Hilda's peeking in through your door, looking harrowed. You have no doubt that her brother's been demanding her return.
You're actually surprised that she hasn't given in and left already.
"I'm planning to."
You probably won't see Hilda again anytime soon. Goneril is in the opposite direction of Riegan.
She sighs, stepping further in to lean against the doorframe. "So you don't think the Church has a chance? Against Edelgard?"
You snort, looking up from where you're contemplating which books to steal and which books to return, giving her an amused look.
"Against Edelgard?" you start. "Maybe. Against the Sword of the Creator? I'm a little more skeptical."
She's silent in response, though she doesn't need to hesitate, when you know her next question will be, "And what about when they come for the Alliance?"
What then?, you think to yourself, and you don't have any answers. What can you do, against a leader more compelling than even your father? A power stronger than anything you have access to?
"... We'll see."
It's innocuous as far as memories go, but he's tense, grappling still with what he's learned about his old teacher. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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cries in notifs
Why the sudden interest? Did Maya inspire you?
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A little. She's very bold.
But I like them.
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I think it's important to treasure the moments of peace.
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I agree. Being here isn't without burden but it's not a constant nightmare exactly.
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[she tucks the notebook away, and leans on the table, letting a congenial silence fall between them.
or what would've been a congenial silence, except a memory slips in between them, unrolling as casually as you please.]
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Sothis? The Beginning...?
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she shifts to sitting upright.]
...Yes.
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You've had the power to turn back time? All long?
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[ His voice cuts off, something slipping through his own mind and taking them back.
You don't feel any loyalty toward this rickety old school, but you can't deny its strategic value. Losing it in the first battle of the war would be a terrible loss.
"You're not leaving?" Hilda's peeking in through your door, looking harrowed. You have no doubt that her brother's been demanding her return.
You're actually surprised that she hasn't given in and left already.
"I'm planning to."
You probably won't see Hilda again anytime soon. Goneril is in the opposite direction of Riegan.
She sighs, stepping further in to lean against the doorframe. "So you don't think the Church has a chance? Against Edelgard?"
You snort, looking up from where you're contemplating which books to steal and which books to return, giving her an amused look.
"Against Edelgard?" you start. "Maybe. Against the Sword of the Creator? I'm a little more skeptical."
She's silent in response, though she doesn't need to hesitate, when you know her next question will be, "And what about when they come for the Alliance?"
What then?, you think to yourself, and you don't have any answers. What can you do, against a leader more compelling than even your father? A power stronger than anything you have access to?
"... We'll see."
It's innocuous as far as memories go, but he's tense, grappling still with what he's learned about his old teacher. ]
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It has limits.
Some things... can't be reversed.
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I see. Otherwise you would've saved your father, I imagine.
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[her voice catches in her throat, and she realizes she hasn't moved, swallowed, since he asked his question.]
I tried.
[short, and little louder than a whisper.]
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He glances away. ]
I'm sorry then. [ He can't. ] Professor, maybe we should reschedule our photo session to another time. I think I hear a nap calling.
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she simply nods once, hand still folded on her lap.]
Another time.