[A faint hum of agreement comes at Sylvain's assessment. He'd originally dismissed the heir of Aegir as nothing- avoided him and his boasting of political office and status- thinking that such loud, aggressive assertment of one's nobility and what it meant was merely dressing, intended to cover personal weakness.
Felix had been pleasantly surprised, though. He was loud, yes, but he wasn't weak. He hadn't expected him to hit quite so hard. Nor to put up much of a fight. But he had. And for Felix, that was all that was needed.
However. Here they hide the righteous fury of a lady far more chivalrous then they- but one that hits just as hard as any affronted soon-to-be prime minister of whatever. felix folds his arms around himself as he settles in; unable to hide a faint scoff at what Sylvain says.]
You say that like it was an option.
[It's not explictly said. Of course not- but he knows. Just as well as Sylvain does. He's not a person. He's property. ...Or more accurately, currency. His life could be spent in multiple ways by the Margrave. Used in war. Used in transaction via marriage. Even pissed away on the border with Sreng. Either way, the Margrave held the rights to him.
Any whisper, any, of such valuable currency being taken to the empire would've resulted in blood, thunder... perhaps even the loss of said mother.
Anyway.]
...Fine. We've time to kill, so I'll entertain it. You'd be soft. You'd shiver at the cold, your horsemanship would be lackluster, and you'd be spoiled.
[Like either of them aren't spoiled, but...]
Perhaps you'd even be pathetic.
me being like 'i should use the icon that has the face he uses when being insufferable'
[Felix scoffs; Sylvain grins. Of course it's not an option, of course he'd be bred to a woman of an impeccable bloodline and have her shit out heirs until one came with a coveted Crest. Of course the only thing keeping him from being a part of a large family was the fact his parents didn't get along enough to make that possible. It's a miracle that he managed to be born in the first place. It's a business transaction.
But Felix knew that and there's no reason to not spoil the mood, and the only thing that saved Felix from being playfully nudged (and the only thing that kept Sylvain from being beaten to a pulp) was the fact Felix agreed to play along.]
Of course I'd be pathetic. [He shouldn't be so cheerful while saying it.] I'd have grown up with seasons, as in four, and spices. I'd probably swing an axe and you'd hate me so much, Felix. I'd be even more insufferable than I already am.
[...okay, Felix gets a little playful nudge. Just a little. A small nudge.]
[Oh, he's playing along now. But only for a while- of course. He so hated levity. But just for a while. Just to indulge him.
...And only because the alternative, of acknowledging the absolutely fucked arrangements they both sprang from is absolutely awful. Much less their own mental damage by not discussing it before now. ]
Four seasons? That's a fairytale and you know it. It's a story they tell- as well as stories of uncultured, brutish northmen who don't have a single opera house in the whole of Faerghus.
[Alright. Alright. That's enough joking around. He's irritating himself. He jabs at Sylvain's chest with a pointed finger.]
[He'd laugh, but Ingrid's on the warpath, and he knows better to make loud noises when they'll be stalking their way towards their rooms very shortly. But Felix earns himself a stupid, toothy grin, because-]
Stop making eye contact with 'em, Felix.
[Wink! And...okay okay, Sylvain's holding up the shirt. He's testing the shirt, how dried the blood is- grimacing at the feel of it.]
Couple more minutes and I'll put it on.
[The nippling shall continue until the blood is deemed sufficiently dried or until Felix Felixes a little bit harder.]
How many people saw you? [No.] What did you do to Ferdinand, anyway? Besides. You know, attack him.
[He turns as Sylvain holds up his (not his) shirt- only turning back around, with an overdramatic sigh of irritation, as the other decides to give it a while longer.
...It's just blood, in Felix's mind. And on campaign, he'd seen Sylvain and his horse covered head to toe in it. But to answer...]
Caspar. I'm glad it was him. He'll think me a villain that needs to be taken down a peg or two. [Small stature or not, he knew his way around an axe. That's another unwitting training partner.] And Lorenz. And Raphael. [He's more excited about Raphael than Lorenz. That'll be good for brawling practise, provided both Felix is quick enough to avoid, and Raphael is too slow to land a hit.
But the other question...]
It was easy. I told him [A lie.] that I beat Edelgard in the last tournament. That I thought doing that made me stronger than any of the Black Eagles class. I wanted him to think that challenging me- and beating me- would make him stronger than her.
[Felix, unlike Sylvain, was no mastermind. He was sharp when he tried, granted. Like in war councils where he proposed (surprisingly inspired) stratagems just to make the discussions end quicker. But people. Psychology. Not that great. It'd only been Ferdinand's obviousness about Edelgard that tipped him off.]
The only thing he didn't agree to was losing. And being half-stripped when he lost.
[Okay, now he's putting on the shirt. Because yeah, at the end of it, he's dealt with worse. And also because while he's willing to have his nips out for the bit, there's a point in which they've overstayed their welcome. And also there's that sigh of irritation. He knows that sigh of irritation.
And also because there's more important things to deal with which are-]
Sorry about Lorenz. [Obviously. Everyone else, fine, but him? Felix would get a lecture with his duel. And, also-] Maybe the Imperial princess'll go after you next and avenge her honor that way. [Or him, but he can('t) seduce his way out of that!] I don't know if I'm envious or worried for you.
[He'd get a lecture with his duel. Also, given Lorenz being... Lorenz, a lifelong enemy that inflicts massive psychic damage just by proximity. But also.]
...Hm.
[Edelgard taking it upon herself to avenge the honour of her House. ...And poor Ferdinand. Possible. But again, he's no mastermind. But perhaps that would spur Ferdinand to avenge... himself? After Edelgard had avenged him?
In a sort of do-over? For the sake of not losing face? Of undoing her vengence, and declaring his vengence absolute, making himself officially stronger than her? Maybe?
...Imperials are so strange.]
She can come. So can he. The whole house can challenge me if they want- I'll take them all down. Either way, I won't be short on training partners.
[The only thing that scares him, a little, is Hubert and his magic. But. Sylvain finally changed, he turns back around. ...Then he sees the extent of what he'd done to Ferdinand.
...He's probably being carted off to Manuela as they speak. He peeks around the corner of their hiding place- unsure.]
...How long is the longest she's [Ingrid's...] ever searched for you after you've done something?
[And Felix can see that Sylvain stills in a way that may or may not be familiar to him, like the time (before everything went irrevocably wrong, when they were all still friends without terms or conditions or an asterisk next to the word) that they were all playing in Gautier, and Dimitri accidentally punched a hole through the roof of the stables while they were in the middle of hide and seek and someone had to break the news to their parents. That sort of stillness.]
Uh.
[He's licking his lips, resisting the urge to poke his head out of hiding to look, bites his lip, and shrugs.]
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no subject
Felix had been pleasantly surprised, though. He was loud, yes, but he wasn't weak.
He hadn't expected him to hit quite so hard. Nor to put up much of a fight. But he had.
And for Felix, that was all that was needed.
However. Here they hide the righteous fury of a lady far more chivalrous then they- but one that hits just as hard as any affronted soon-to-be prime minister of whatever. felix folds his arms around himself as he settles in; unable to hide a faint scoff at what Sylvain says.]
You say that like it was an option.
[It's not explictly said. Of course not- but he knows. Just as well as Sylvain does. He's not a person. He's property. ...Or more accurately, currency. His life could be spent in multiple ways by the Margrave. Used in war. Used in transaction via marriage. Even pissed away on the border with Sreng. Either way, the Margrave held the rights to him.
Any whisper, any, of such valuable currency being taken to the empire would've resulted in blood, thunder... perhaps even the loss of said mother.
Anyway.]
...Fine. We've time to kill, so I'll entertain it. You'd be soft. You'd shiver at the cold, your horsemanship would be lackluster, and you'd be spoiled.
[Like either of them aren't spoiled, but...]
Perhaps you'd even be pathetic.
me being like 'i should use the icon that has the face he uses when being insufferable'
But Felix knew that and there's no reason to not spoil the mood, and the only thing that saved Felix from being playfully nudged (and the only thing that kept Sylvain from being beaten to a pulp) was the fact Felix agreed to play along.]
Of course I'd be pathetic. [He shouldn't be so cheerful while saying it.] I'd have grown up with seasons, as in four, and spices. I'd probably swing an axe and you'd hate me so much, Felix. I'd be even more insufferable than I already am.
[...okay, Felix gets a little playful nudge. Just a little. A small nudge.]
hahaha the shithead wink, perf
...And only because the alternative, of acknowledging the absolutely fucked arrangements they both sprang from is absolutely awful. Much less their own mental damage by not discussing it before now. ]
Four seasons? That's a fairytale and you know it. It's a story they tell- as well as stories of uncultured, brutish northmen who don't have a single opera house in the whole of Faerghus.
[Alright. Alright. That's enough joking around. He's irritating himself. He jabs at Sylvain's chest with a pointed finger.]
Redress. Your nipples are looking at me.
no subject
Stop making eye contact with 'em, Felix.
[Wink! And...okay okay, Sylvain's holding up the shirt. He's testing the shirt, how dried the blood is- grimacing at the feel of it.]
Couple more minutes and I'll put it on.
[The nippling shall continue until the blood is deemed sufficiently dried or until Felix Felixes a little bit harder.]
How many people saw you? [No.] What did you do to Ferdinand, anyway? Besides. You know, attack him.
no subject
[He turns as Sylvain holds up his (not his) shirt- only turning back around, with an overdramatic sigh of irritation, as the other decides to give it a while longer.
...It's just blood, in Felix's mind. And on campaign, he'd seen Sylvain and his horse covered head to toe in it. But to answer...]
Caspar. I'm glad it was him. He'll think me a villain that needs to be taken down a peg or two. [Small stature or not, he knew his way around an axe. That's another unwitting training partner.] And Lorenz. And Raphael. [He's more excited about Raphael than Lorenz. That'll be good for brawling practise, provided both Felix is quick enough to avoid, and Raphael is too slow to land a hit.
But the other question...]
It was easy. I told him [A lie.] that I beat Edelgard in the last tournament. That I thought doing that made me stronger than any of the Black Eagles class. I wanted him to think that challenging me- and beating me- would make him stronger than her.
[Felix, unlike Sylvain, was no mastermind. He was sharp when he tried, granted. Like in war councils where he proposed (surprisingly inspired) stratagems just to make the discussions end quicker. But people. Psychology. Not that great. It'd only been Ferdinand's obviousness about Edelgard that tipped him off.]
The only thing he didn't agree to was losing. And being half-stripped when he lost.
no subject
[Okay, now he's putting on the shirt. Because yeah, at the end of it, he's dealt with worse. And also because while he's willing to have his nips out for the bit, there's a point in which they've overstayed their welcome. And also there's that sigh of irritation. He knows that sigh of irritation.
And also because there's more important things to deal with which are-]
Sorry about Lorenz. [Obviously. Everyone else, fine, but him? Felix would get a lecture with his duel. And, also-] Maybe the Imperial princess'll go after you next and avenge her honor that way. [Or him, but he can('t) seduce his way out of that!] I don't know if I'm envious or worried for you.
no subject
...Hm.
[Edelgard taking it upon herself to avenge the honour of her House. ...And poor Ferdinand. Possible. But again, he's no mastermind. But perhaps that would spur Ferdinand to avenge... himself? After Edelgard had avenged him?
In a sort of do-over? For the sake of not losing face? Of undoing her vengence, and declaring his vengence absolute, making himself officially stronger than her? Maybe?
...Imperials are so strange.]
She can come. So can he. The whole house can challenge me if they want- I'll take them all down. Either way, I won't be short on training partners.
[The only thing that scares him, a little, is Hubert and his magic.
But. Sylvain finally changed, he turns back around. ...Then he sees the extent of what he'd done to Ferdinand.
...He's probably being carted off to Manuela as they speak. He peeks around the corner of their hiding place- unsure.]
...How long is the longest she's [Ingrid's...] ever searched for you after you've done something?
no subject
Uh.
[He's licking his lips, resisting the urge to poke his head out of hiding to look, bites his lip, and shrugs.]
If she finds us I'll buy you time to escape.
[That's sure not an answer!]