expiationlogs | may catch-all!

[ For all that Claude is feeling strange after his sentencing - and he doesn't know why; while he can be deceptive about this and that, he considers himself to be quite honest in spirit, even if it's not to the letter - he doesn't have the heart to cancel the tea party with Sandry after their long correspondence. Besides, he thinks to himself, he can be honest in his earnest appreciation of her company. While they've only written letters back and forth, she's such a sweet, bright young lady, and besides, it's nice to be able to speak with someone who's able to understand a little more about where he comes from.

It's one thing to be a stranger in a strange land. It's another to have to do it again, and again, and again. To that end, Claude sets to recreating a good old fashioned Fodlan tea party to the best of his ability. By the time Sandry shows up, Claude has commandeered one of the public picnic tables and has set up a proper tower, tongue sticking out of his mouth as he pops the last biscuit on the top. As he sees Sandry approach, he flaps an energetic hand her way. ]

Over here!

Edited 2024-05-04 01:46 (UTC)

[ Sandry has sewn a new dress for this. It's a tea party and if Claude is putting on his best show, then so can she! She's dressed in a perfectly fitted dusty pink overdress with little pearl buttons down the front of the bodice, a off white undergown with puffy sleeves, and matching dusty pink slippers with little flowers embroidered around the edges. Despite the layers the fabric is light and airy to match the nice weather. It's not cloth that she wove herself, but the sewing is undeniably her own work and she's proud of that.

When she approaches it's with the measured steps of someone who has better manners than to run, and she gives a perfect curtsy when she's close enough. But despite all that she's barely holding back a grin, so it ruins the "polite noble lady" affect, just a little. ]

This looks wonderful.

[ Claude grins. He hasn't seen Sandry in person since that whole mess that happened a couple of months ago, and it's somewhat gratifying to know that she looks like the same person -- the same age, the same build, not a victim to what had plagued a few others with their bodies and abilities shifting around them.

She's dressed for the occasion too, which he hadn't quite been expecting. For Claude's part, he looks much the same as well, only a little better kempt; his hair is slicked back with gel, his clothing looser and more modest, something less wild and reckless in his gaze. ]

I can't take credit for it! [ He says, which is thankfully the truth. ] I picked up the sandwiches and sweets at a bakery and cafe down the way. But I assure you, if I were to cook, it would be a very poor showing indeed.

[ He spreads his arms. ]

Welcome to a proper Fodlani teatime! Have a seat and I'll pour you a cup, Miss Sandry.

[ There's something cheeky in his voice, like he sees right through that young noblewoman disguise. He ought to. He hides underneath the very same one. ]

[ She has to giggle at that, and slides elegantly into her seat. It is good to see him again, even if they only met once. Despite the trying circumstances of their meeting she has only good feelings about it. ]

Oh, I can't judge, I'm not much of a cook myself. I've been trying to learn now that I'm living on my own, but it's slow going. I've retained my knowledge and skills around baking cookies, but I can't survive on cookies alone!

Oh, you can certainly try. But I won't lie and tell you I did much of my own cooking at all before I wound up here either. Even now, I tend to buy what I eat.

[ He can just about make do, but it was hard going at first, especially without a proper source of income. He'd been put on kitchen duty now and then at the Academy, but that had gone as swimmingly as one would expect it to, and he had more often than not been shooed out by the better cooks. Dedue in particular always seemed to stare at him with haunted eyes every time he so much as touched a dish, the poor man.

He pours Sandry a cup of tea - a creamy blend of black tea and lavender, light on the palate and sweet against the back of your tongue - along with a dish filled with cream and sugar. Claude's own pot is filled with something different, something that smells rich and herbaceous and pungent, and not at all the sort of thing most young ladies around here enjoy. ]

But besides your cooking ability, or lack thereof... I'd like to know a little more about you now that your noggin's on right. Though I think I've caught on enough to realize that you've done some hobnobbing in noble society yourself.

[ She takes a dainty sip of her tea, and then a second. It's good! The teacup is placed back down properly, barely a clink as it settles onto the saucer. ]

Yes, I am the great-niece of his grace, Duke Vedris of the realm of Emelan, and cousin of her Imperial Highness, Empress Berenene of the Namorn Empire.

[ So, very noble indeed. Hence the manners and nice handwriting and all that. But she dashes all of the noble impressions by giving a very un-dainty grin. ]

But my parents liked to travel when I was growing up and the other nobles didn't want their children mixing with the daughter of people with such strange ideas, so I made friends with commoners and Traders instead. And then I spent four years living at the Winding Circle Temple before returning to my uncle's castle to help him after a turn of bad health.

[ Another sip of the tea. It really is good. She reaches for a sandwich. ]

The tea is delicious, thank you.

Whew! That's quite the assortment of titles you've got there. So that would make you... what, a Duchess in your own right? Though not an inheritor to the throne, should you be so lucky.

[ He grins at that. He has designs on the throne, yes, but he holds no illusions about what rotten work it is. If Sandry has the luxury of going traipsing about new worlds, then he hopes that she manages to do it up until the day she dies of old age, a world of adventures swimming in her mind, and a spark of curiosity still lingering in her soul. ]

I'm a Duke myself, wouldn't you know it. And going off on lots of adventures and adventuring new lands is precisely what I'd do, if I had the opportunity. There's some things that you can't learn cooped away in some grand estate. A whole world out there, filled with new things!

[ He leans forward, elbows very impolitely propped up on the table, a grin on his face. In many ways, Sandry's life is more storied than his own. He was born and raised in a palace, only to be shuffled off to a monastery, then ensconced in another goddamned court. It's enough to drive a man mad. ]

Tell me about the most interesting place you've been to, or the most interesting person you've had the chance to meet. I'd love to hear more.

Actually, my parents passed away some years ago so now I'm clehame in my Namornese lands- a countess. But my cousin manages the lands while I learn magic in Emelan and now assist my uncle.

[ She doesn't sound upset by her parents' death, it's an old wound that she's long since come to terms with. She clearly doesn't linger on the thought, but she also doesn't bring up that the way they traveled, shirking their duty to their lands, wasn't exactly... noble. She loves them dearly and it doesn't make it easier to acknowledge that their way of living was wrong. ]

As for the most interesting person I've met... Well, I would have to tell you about my siblings! Tris, a weather mage, Daja, a smith mage, and Briar, a green mage. Tris can throw lightning, call wind and rain, and stores tidal power in braids in her hair. Daja's magic is with metal, she crafts the most gorgeous creations and accidentally made living metal! She turned it into a leg for someone. And Briar can talk to plants! He has a shakkan, a miniature tree where he stores power. He can make herbs more potent and convince plants to grow. I love them very much.

[ Sandry is practically bursting with love and pride when she talks about them. Maybe they're not the most interesting people she's met, but she can't pass up an opportunity talk about them. ]

So... in all of your grand adventures, the most interesting people you've ever met is your own blood.

[ That resonates with -- something in him. There's a pang, deep in his gut, though he cannot tell if it's admiration or envy. It's a sweet thought, Sandry's expression so open and earnest, so utterly without guile that it can't be to appeal to any feeling save for the ardent desire for others to share her admiration. Is that what it's like to be raised with loving parents, to be raised without competition? His mind can't help but drift to his own siblings, to Sylvain's own Miklan, the harsh way in which he's heard Felix discuss Glen in dark whispers that he'd never been meant to hear, all victims of a sorry upbringing.

For whatever Sandry's parents' other flaws may be, they raised loving children. There's something to be said for that. ]

I can tell how much you love them, [ he says, expression softening. ] And all of you with gifts! So, you've got a mage who can control the weather, a mage who can control metal, and a mage who can control plants. In that case... which is your specialty? Don't forget, we first met when you thought you were an ordinary girl in the village.

Actually, they're not my blood. We met when we were ten and lived together for four years. But they're my siblings.

[ She's smiling, she's clearly in a good mood, but she's very resolute on that. They are family. No matter what anyone says that will never change. ]

As for me... well, I'm a thread mage! My magic is with fibers, thread, and cloth. If it can be woven or spun then it's in my power. I made bracelets that shone with light when the power was out and am making bandages with healing properties for the healers brigade to use.

[ And she also spun her memories into thread and wove them into blocks to sort out her mind, but that feels... abstract. And maybe a bit boastful. Or at least Toph was impressed. ]

But what about you? Is there magic where you're from?

[ He has more questions to ask about her siblings - is it legal that they're all siblings? did they meet due to their own powers? was their a formalized adoption taking place? were they nobility too? - but in no time flat, Sandry has moved on. No matter, Claude thinks. She seemed more than enthused to speak on them, and there will be another time to learn more, future tea parties and swapping of stories. It's only fair that he tells her a little of his own world in return. ]

What a fascinating power that is! I've never heard of one like that, so attuned to something physical instead of just coming out of nowhere. I'd love to see one of your creations one day, or better yet, watch you make one!

As for my world... [ He takes a sip of tea, smiling a little ruefully at her. ] We do have magic, yes. Powered by either one's tie to the goddess, or one's scholarly pursuits. I never got the hang of it, myself -- I can only perform the most rudimentary of magic, hardly anything that's of any use.

[ He's lacking in that special something, he thinks. Faith. ]

These days, I mainly see it used on the battlefield. It can be used for other purposes too of course, to make little household chores a little easier, but most save their energy so that they can access it when they truly need it. It's -- more destructive than the sort you're describing.

[ Sandry frowns just a bit at that. She doesn't like the sound of "battlefield" and "destructive." Certainly Tris' magic can be destructive, and in the right setting hers has proven fatal, but... there's so much good that comes out of it. ]

Is there a lot of fighting where you're from?

[ It's strange, how such a simple question takes him aback. For all he's spoken to others here, of their battles against strange monsters and creatures, of horrific weapons, of wartimes, of druglords and violent takeovers, it didn't occur to him that he would ever meet someone for which fighting... simply wasn't part and parcel of their daily lives.

Almyra may not strictly be at war, skirmishes aside, but theirs is a warrior culture. Fighting is in his blood. The idea of any other way of life is upsettingly foreign to him. ]

Well... yes, there is. I suppose your home is at peacetime then, huh? [ He leans back, tapping his fingers against the picnic table. ] We're in the midst of a war right now. But even before war, there's always fighting to be had, battles to be waged. Uprisings, bandit attacks, skirmishes, things like that. It's the way our lands have always been, as I understand it.

[ Sandry listens carefully, taking a bite of her sandwich and a sip of tea. It sounds... honestly kind of terrible to her. Emelan has been at peace for so long now. Sure they have the army and the navy and contend with bandits and pirates, but there's been no true war in many lifetimes. ]

I'm sorry to hear that there's so much fighting. Emelan has bandits and pirates but there's been no war near us for many generations. Yanjing in the east is at war with its neighbors, but that's quite far away. I hope your lands are able to see lasting peace soon.

Edited (not me literally looking at the spelling on yanjing 5 seconds ago and misspelling it anyways) 2024-06-01 22:34 (UTC)

War is something every leader has to prepare for. We can always hope that it won't reach our lands within our lifetime, but it's precisely what we're here for. And luckily, I've spent most of my life researching just that.

[ He doesn't want to bore Sandry with it, or worse, frighten her with what the vagaries of war have done to his lands and their neighbouring lands, but this too is something Sandry may well have to confront. Hopefully not until she's older, but not all of them can pick and choose. ]

Fodlan had been at piece for nearly four hundred years. But things can change very, very quickly. This war has been going on since I was seventeen, I think it was. [ He glances at Sandry. ] But I hope that your lands remain peaceful for a good, long time.

[ And if they don't -- he hopes she and her siblings will prepare for war. ]

[ That's... sobering. Four hundred years, and then war? One would think that peace could last forever at that rate. Sandry tries to imagine Emelan at war and... can't. It was one thing when the pirates attacked, but war?

She gives a small shake of her head and draws the gods-circle on her chest. ]

I hope so as well. And I hope your war ends quickly and easily- though I don't believe that's the usual way of war. I'm glad you at least are able to help your people with your knowledge.

[ At least, that's what it sounded like he was saying. ]

may catch-all!

teatime for sandry

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