Asura

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

nothing matters any more. the darkness is all there is.
i try to count the seconds. i've forgotten what they are.

---

"Nah, I don't do it to all of them. Just the pretty ones."

It was easy enough to come up with some smart ass response to Shiori's seemingly boundless irritation. He supposed that was what he liked about their little verbal spars—for what she lacked in conversational motivation, she made up for by being fun to poke at. In the way it was fun to see how much you could poke a wasp's nest before you got stung, at least. Luckily enough, he hadn't been on the receiving end of much more than some angry buzzing, elbow to the ribs aside. Hopefully it would be at least a little while longer before she got fed up with him. Utsubyo sucked, but having somebody to fuck around with made the sucking a little less severe.

A sigh escaped Ryusei's lips as he kicked off the mulch littered turf below, rocking back and forth on his suspended seat, his legs too long to truly leave the ground with such little force. The gentle motion helped break up the monotony that was this little outing; he hadn't ever been all that social. People tended to steer clear of him once they picked up on his reputation, and aside from his fellow scumbags back home, he didn't go out of his way to correct that. The hell could he even talk about? He had known Himawari Shiori for all of five days, most of which were spent either snarking back and forth at one another or smoking in silence. Part of him felt the urge to just let her bear the burden of steering the conversation. They were here for her, after all. But the obstinate part of him didn't like ceding control that easily.

"Shitty park," He eventually declared, letting the first thought in his mind carry them forward, "How many people in this town even have kids? Certainly seems like a shit place to raise a family."

He was being a little harsh. It wasn't that bad, honestly. Sure, the equipment looked like shit, the grass needed to be taken care of, but there was a serenity to its emptiness. With the sky above nice and overcast and nobody around but his nicotine addled classmate, it was almost kind of relaxing. He caught himself before he got too relaxed though—he had come dangerously close to dropping the tension he had been carrying for most of the week while pondering how he enjoyed his chats with Shiori, and he wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of thinking he was comfortable around her just because she picked a decent place to unwind.

"You come here often? Seems like a pretty lonely place, but you seem kinda lonely most of the time anyway, so I guess it'd fit. Don't have any friends?" Yeah, he was definitely being harsh. Hypocritical, too, considering his own lack of a social life, but at least he had an excuse. He hadn't seen the redhead hanging around anybody but himself and the other new transfer, and he had at least a working theory that the two of them had prior history, just based on the bouncy brunette's over familiarity. Not exactly indicative of Shiori's popularity with Utsubyo High's preexisting student body.

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

how long have i been here? how long will i be forced to stay?
i want to go home. i want to see my wife again. is she even still waiting for me?

---

Ryusei couldn't resist the urge to roll his eyes as he was pelted by his own jacket. For all the shit he got for being moody, the redhead at his side certainly seemed sensitive. Maybe the lack of nicotine really was putting her on edge. Chemical withdraws or no, he couldn't just let her get away with that—even on his worst day, he was a remarkable smart ass.

"Yeah, yeah. Why don't you try keeping 'em to yourself? Just 'cause you bought me lunch doesn't mean you're allowed to get handsy with my assets."

Her choice of venue wasn't exactly scenic, but it was better than the decaying suburban hell that had featured for much of their journey. It could even have been mistaken for nice, if you locked your eyes on the treeline and pretended you weren't surrounded by decrepit play sets and wilting grass. Not like the quality of the scenery mattered anyway; he had finished his sandwich on the way. Still, it seemed Shiori wanted to hang around, and seeing as though he had little else to spend his afternoon on, he decided to tag along. Hisfirst instinct was to go fuck around on the swings, and creature of impulse that he was, that's exactly what he did. As he herded them towards the swingset, he couldn't help but snort at her comment.

"Yeah, and you feed his addiction to high school girls in return," He snarked, tossing his bag into the wood chips below along with his jacket. The teen claimed one of the swings, resting his weight on the cheap plastic seat even as the chains whined in protest. "Poor fucker looked like he saw a ghost when he spotted you with a boy. Probably seething over it. Not that I didn't see to making that easy."

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

the days blend infinitely in this hellish abyss
time no longer has meaning as we lose ourselves to the darkness

---

Ryusei probably should have expected the sharp pain that came to radiate through his ribs. But the few seconds of zero response from Shiori had lulled him into a false sense of security, and her inevitable retribution prefaced the soft 'oof' that forced its way through his otherwise infallible deadpan. He withdrew the offending arm, using it to rub at the spot she had hit him. He knew she was skinny, but just how bony were her fucking elbows?

"It was worth a try," He muttered in response as she stole all his fun by explaining away his presence. He supposed he'd have time to torture the poor fucker with implications later. Nothing threatened a pining loser like a college boyfriend from out of town. He didn't have much time to add on to his charade if he tried—Shiori was already shoving him out onto the street, and Sato had already beat a pathetic retreat deeper into the alleyway. Unwilling to risk dropping his precious sandwich, the teen simply trotted along until they were once again back on the main road, absentmindedly nibbling at his afternoon meal.

"You really ought to watch where you go sticking that thing. Might count as a weapon in some jurisdictions. Sure as shit pointy enough to be one."

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

a date where smartphones exist
half past morbin' time

---

"The hell is wrong with Bats?" Ryusei asked, almost baffled that someone would complain about his brand. Maybe she proved the stereotype right and really did want menthols. "Don't worry about the sandwich. Somebody has been monopolizing much lunch time, so I was hungry. Consider your favor repaid."

While Shiori's tough girl image crumbled before him and he savored his afternoon snack, the arrival of a third caught his obvious attention. The guy seemed friendly enough—until his eyes landed on Ryusei. Typical. He wasn't exactly a beam of shining fucking sunlight, but why was it that all he got were glares and suspicious glances no matter where he went? Not even transferring a new town was enough to free him of the eternal chagrin of Japan's population, it seemed. He hadn't even said two words to the guy when they briefly passed each other in the store and he was already getting looked at like he stole something.

It wasn't until the fellow spoke for a second time that the teen's pondering suddenly clicked. So that was it, huh? No wonder this Sato seemed so upset with him. He could certainly understand the worry. Unfortunately for him, however, understanding did not equate to sympathizing, and Ryusei was in just foul enough of a mood to take a jab at the guy's expense. His companion almost assuredly wouldn't appreciate it, but hey, it was her idea to drag him along. She'd have to accept the consequences of her actions. Meandering over to Shiori from his position nearer the alleyway's exit, he slung a casual arm around the redhead's shoulders.

"Hey," He greeted the older male, swallowing the mouthful of crispy fried bird and bun that had occupied his mouth prior, "I'm the snack."

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

a date where smartphones exist
half past morbin' time

---

The walk through town was more depressing than Ryusei had expected it to be—he knew it wasn't going to be anything like downtown Kobe, but even the main streets seemed dead as dirt. Shiori seemed to have given it her best shot, pointing out a few things here or there when she wasn't busy brooding, but he could tell she was at a loss for items of interest. It wasn't like he could blame her though. He had come to Utsubyo expecting nothing and it had still managed to disappoint him almost every step of the way. Their arrival at the FamilyMart was welcome, if only because it gave him a sense of familiarity despite its rundown exterior. The alleyways beside a conbini were no strange frontier to the teen either, so he readily followed his redheaded companion when she ducked off.

"You're that desperate to get my clothes off, huh?" He cracked, hands already busying themselves with his tie. He pulled it free and tossed it to Himawari, his jacket following shortly thereafter. As flattering as Shiori's implication that he could look a businessman was, he had little interest in playing pretend. The teen wasted little time popping the first few buttons of his shirt—just to mess with her a little—and rolling up his sleeves so they rested around his elbows. Figuring he looked casual enough, he proceeded to snag the offered bills.

"I'll be back." He muttered as he stepped back out into the open, figuring it best he hurry along and get the cigarettes before his luck ran dry and she started making good on those threats of hers.

____________________________

It didn't take him long to return. The interior of the store had been about as dead as the exterior, with only a few errant youths stopping by after class to stock up on drinks and snacks. For his part, Ryusei wasn't especially nervous. He had bought cigarettes and worse plenty of times back home, supplying his delinquent friends with all they could need with his admittedly generous allowance. The key was to just be confident, to not act like a fucking spazz, and if all else failed, look mean enough that you weren't worth the risk to question. If the cashier had any misgivings about the cigarettes when he rung them up, he didn't voice them—the teen's perpetual scowl had undoubtedly informed the man that he was not inviting idle chitchat, nor a rejection of his purchase.

With a couple packs held between the digits of one hand, and a wrapped sandwich in the other, the teen returned to the alleyway. He tossed the former towards his partner in crime, and began unwrapping the latter.

"Hope you didn't want menthols. They were out," He declared before taking the first of many bites. "Not that I mind. Menthols taste like shit."

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

a date where smartphones exist
half past morbin' time

---

Ryusei simply stared at the redhead for a few good moments. The hell did she mean, resupply? It was only when she insisted that she would share with him during school hours that he caught on to what she was getting at. Why the hell would he go and buy her smokes if he could get away with buying them for himself? It made more sense for him to just buy them for himself and make her beg for the privilege. Of course, then he would need to find a place to stash them—his grandfather had a nose like a bloodhound, and he'd taken to immediately showering once he got home to wash the stink of smoke off before the old coot caught on to his little lunch breaks. Using Shiori to hold the pack was probably for the best, especially with how badly she seemed to need her daily fix.

But he couldn't just let her win unopposed. He quirked a single brow at the mention of her doing something in return for him.

"Another favor, huh? Might not be a bad idea. How wide can you get your jaw again?" He asked, rising up from his seat as if to better inspect her lips, "... Eh, we'll cross that bridge when we get there. C'mon, show me where this store is. You're also paying for 'em."

With that, he slung his bag over his shoulder and made for the door, content she would be flustered with the implication. If she wasn't, well, that was good in its own way too.

Where It Always Rains

TOTSUKA RYUSEI
戸塚 竜星

---

a date where smartphones exist
half past morbin' time

---

The bell brought to a close yet another shitty day, and perhaps for the first time that week he was truly happy to hear it. The boxing club's beloved senpai had better things to do that day than coach his underclassmen, and their overseer was apparently too incompetent to do his job without one of the students doing all the heavy lifting, so he was free from the incessant monotony of throwing the same punch four hundred fucking times a day. It was for the best—he was honestly getting pretty sore. Not from the practices themselves, of course. For all the shit he gave the club, they took it relatively easy for the first week to ease the new arrivals in. It was the after school workouts he had to do afterwards that were really kicking his ass. Whether the old man had devised it as a form of punishment after finding out the real reason he joined up with the club, or his grandfather actually was thrilled by the idea of his grandson being a world champ was beyond him, but if he had to spend one more evening running the hills of Utsubyo...

"Yo,"

His irate monologue was brought to a halt by the arrival of an increasingly familiar young woman. After the debacle with the newspaper, most of his peers had given him a wide enough berth that he didn't have to worry about fending them off himself. Most of them. But Himawari Shiori was probably the classmate he had spoken with the most since school began that prior Monday. Not for nothing—he had dragged her down with him. It seemed she had something to request of him, as well. That much tracked. Why else would anyone spend time with him? Still, humoring her was probably better than wandering home this early. Knowing his luck, he'd be lugging around bags of topsoil for some 'impromptu weight training'. As if he didn't know the old bastard didn't just want the back garden redone.

"The fuck could you need from me? Some skate boarder giving you trouble or something?"

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

Albrecht von Varley | Major Crest of Lamine

Name

Albrecht von Varley

Age

17 _{Born the 5th of Blue Sea Moon}

Country of Origin

Adrestian Empire

Social Standing

Noble of House Varley

Crest

Crest of Lamine
_{Albrecht's crest bestows him with supernaturally good fortune, significantly increasing the likelihood of positive outcomes in tasks he undertakes while reducing the severity of negative outcomes.}

Starting Class

Soldier

Weapon of Choice

Sword

Strengths

Swords, Faith

Weaknesses

Bows, Reason

Personality

Albrecht strives to be the very definition of what a young nobleman is meant to be; for much of his life, he has lived a blessed existence, something he attributes to the Goddess' favor, and he attempts to repay this favor by conducting himself in a way which honors her benevolence. He is kind to both his betters and his lessers, patient with all those he counsels, diligent in his studies both academic and martial, humble almost to the point of fault and steadfast in his piety. To call him 'saintly' would not be misplacing one's words, although he would assuredly refute such as a compliment he did not deserve.

While he is a fundamentally gentle, nurturing soul, it would be a mistake to underestimate his resolve—although he has a deep appreciation for the mercy preached in Seiros' teachings, he possesses an equally strong sense of justice, and will not hesitate to intervene on behalf of the downtrodden or victimized. He thinks himself chivalrous, and cannot help but respect those who conduct themselves with courage and honesty, qualities he considers fleeting in the veritable den of vipers that is the upper echelons of the Empire. It is therefore needless to say that one of the few things he can truly be said to dislike is politicking, and the idea of inheriting his father's Duchy weighs heavier on him than any self-imposed code of conduct.

History

Fairy tale romances were far and few between in the lands of Fódlan, but every so often the Goddess gives her favor to a lucky couple. The tale of Siegfried von Varley and Odette Galatea is one such tale. Having met at Garreg Mach in their youth, the pair were practically inseparable during their year of tutelage. Their whirlwind romance was such that when the year came to a draw and they were forced to go their separate ways, Siegfried could not bear the loss, and rode to Faerghus in order to ask Odette's father for her hand. He was, of course, flatly rejected, but even the disapproval of their families could not keep the couple apart⁠—they eloped later that very month. By the time House Galatea discovered the young lovers, they had already consummated the match. To save face, both families gave the two their blessing, and Siegfried brought Odette back to the Adrestian Empire as his wife, where he would eventually succeed his own father as the Duke of Varley.

Their hard fought victory was well rewarded. The Goddess blessed them with four healthy children, two of whom bore Crests; their eldest son, Ulrich, and their youngest, Albrecht. Raised on tales of chivalry and romance, it was perhaps a foregone conclusion that young Albrecht would grow to become a wide-eyed idealist. His worldview was colored early by these stories, of heroic knights and a benevolent Goddess, one which favored him personally—his Crest's abilities made themselves known early on, ensuring any endeavor he undertook seemed to go his way, regardless of circumstance or importance. He came to attribute much of the success in his young life to Sothis and her blessing, and intended to spend it serving in her honor; with his elder brother also in possession of such a blessing, and several siblings between them, he was unnecessary to the line of succession. Albrecht had every intention of swearing fealty to the Knights of Seiros when he came of age, a choice inspired by the knightly orders of his mother's homeland, and something that would undoubtedly reflect well on his father's position as Minister of Religion.

But the Goddess had other plans for him. The Black Death swept across Fódlan for much of Albrecht's life, but it did not reach Castle Varley until he was a boy of fifteen. It took his sister, Astrid, first. Then Wolfram followed her two weeks later, having caught it when he forced his way into her room to see his ailing sister. Despite the best efforts of the garrison, Ulrich too caught the malady, and perished by the end of the month along with his fiancée.

Even Albrecht felt the looming specter of death over him, but was spared the fate of his siblings by either chance or miracle—his fever broke on the dawn of the eighth day, and the plague was gone the following moon, having taken half the staff with it as it burned its way through the castle. His parents had, mercifully, survived the ordeal, but were made lesser for it. His father became stoic and stony, retreating into himself to cope with the loss, and his mother, once the fiery dame of many a song, found the spark in her eyes fading as they buried three of her beloved children.

The plague left Albrecht not only with a crisis of faith, but of changed circumstance. He had been free to pursue his own desires before, to train as a squire and eventually pledge his life to the Church when the time came. But now, he was his father's heir, and only remaining child. The future of the House rested on his shoulders, and it would be up to him to do as his sire had and find a bride to carry on the family legacy. When the plague subsided some years later, Albrecht was given the chance to attend the renown institute both his parents had in their youth. A mercy as much as a means to prepare him for the harsh realities of rulership, for he could at least experience a few precious months at the Monastery before returning home, a man grown, to do his duty and take a wife.

So began his days at Garreg Mach.

Trivia

• Albrecht stands at just over six feet in height, with a willowy build that belies his physical might.
• Albrecht's favorite food is peach sorbet, something he has fond memories of eating during the arid summers at Castle Varley. It certainly isn't his only favored treat, though: the young man is known to have a sweet tooth, and the Monastery's snack cart tests his temperance something severe.
• He possesses a strong physical resemblance to his mother, and barring his height, could easily be confused with her. Consequently, he is considered rather fair to look upon, and it has been said more than once that he is prettier than a number of his female cousins. A fact which flusters him terribly.
• Albrecht is banned from gambling halls across his father's lands. While he insists he would never willingly partake in the vice, a particular incident wherein his elder brother took him out on the town as youths saw at least one unlucky establishment cleaned of its coffers, and his prohibition well earned. This reputation extends to the area around Garreg Mach thanks to its proximity to Varley.

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

Albrecht von Varley | Major Crest of Lamine

Name

Albrecht von Varley

Age

17 _{Born the 5th of Blue Sea Moon}

Country of Origin

Adrestian Empire

Social Standing

Noble of House Varley

Crest

Crest of Lamine
_{Albrecht's crest bestows him with supernaturally good fortune, significantly increasing the likelihood of positive outcomes in tasks he undertakes while reducing the severity of negative outcomes.}

Starting Class

Soldier

Weapon of Choice

Sword

Strengths

Swords, Faith

Weaknesses

Bows, Reason

Personality

Albrecht strives to be the very definition of what a young nobleman is meant to be; for much of his life, he has lived a blessed existence, something he attributes to the Goddess' favor, and he attempts to repay this favor by conducting himself in a way which honors her benevolence. He is kind to both his betters and his lessers, patient with all those he counsels, diligent in his studies both academic and martial, humble almost to the point of fault and steadfast in his piety. To call him 'saintly' would not be misplacing one's words, although he would assuredly refute such as a compliment he did not deserve.

While he is a fundamentally gentle, nurturing soul, it would be a mistake to underestimate his resolve—although he has a deep appreciation for the mercy preached in Seiros' teachings, he possesses an equally strong sense of justice, and will not hesitate to intervene on behalf of the downtrodden or victimized. He thinks himself chivalrous, and cannot help but respect those who conduct themselves with courage and honesty, qualities he considers fleeting in the veritable den of vipers that is the upper echelons of the Empire. It is therefore needless to say that one of the few things he can truly be said to dislike is politicking, and the idea of inheriting his father's Duchy weighs heavier on him than any self-imposed code of conduct.

History

Fairy tale romances were far and few between in the lands of Fódlan, but every so often the Goddess gives her favor to a lucky couple. The tale of Siegfried von Varley and the lady Odette Galatea is one such tale. Having met at Garreg Mach in their youth, the pair were practically inseparable during their year of tutelage. Their whirlwind romance was such that when the year came to a draw and they were forced to go their separate ways, Siegfried could not bear the loss, and rode to Faerghus in order to ask Odette's father for her hand. He was, of course, flatly rejected, but even the disapproval of their families could not keep the couple apart⁠—they eloped later that very month. By the time House Galatea discovered the young lovers, they had already consummated the match. To save face, both families gave the two their blessing, and Siegfried brought Odette back to the Adrestian Empire as his wife, where he would eventually succeed his own father as the Duke of Varley.

Their hard fought victory was well rewarded. The Goddess blessed them with four healthy children, two of whom bore Crests; their eldest son, Ulrich, and their youngest, Albrecht. Raised on tales of chivalry and romance, it was perhaps a foregone conclusion that young Albrecht would grow to become a wide-eyed idealist. His worldview was colored early by these stories, of heroic knights and a benevolent Goddess, one which favored him personally—his Crest's abilities made themselves known early on, ensuring any endeavor he undertook seemed to go his way, regardless of circumstance or importance. He came to attribute much of the success in his young life to Sothis and her blessing, and intended to spend it serving in her honor; with his elder brother also in possession of such a blessing, and several siblings between them, he was unnecessary to the line of succession. Albrecht had every intention of swearing fealty to the Knights of Seiros when he came of age, a choice inspired by the knightly orders of his mother's homeland, and something that would undoubtedly reflect well on his father's position as Minister of Religion.

But the Goddess had other plans for him. The Black Death swept across Fódlan for much of Albrecht's life, but it did not reach Castle Varley until he was a boy of fifteen. It took his sister, Astrid, first. Then Wolfram followed her two weeks later, having caught it when he forced his way into her room to see his ailing sister. Despite the best efforts of the garrison, Ulrich too caught the malady, and perished by the end of the month along with his fiancée.

Even Albrecht felt the looming specter of death over him, but was spare the fate of his siblings by miracle or chance—his fever broke on the dawn of the eighth day, and the plague was gone the following moon, having taken half the staff with it as it burned its way through the castle. His parents had, mercifully, survived the ordeal, but were made lesser for it. His father became stoic and stony, retreating into himself to cope with the loss, and his mother, once the fiery dame of many a song, found the spark in her eyes fading as they buried three of her beloved children.

The plague left Albrecht not only with a crisis of faith, but of changed circumstance. He had been free to pursue his own desires before, to train as a squire and eventually pledge his life to the Church when the time came. But now, he was his father's heir, and only remaining child. The future of the House rested on his shoulders, and it would be up to him to do as his sire had and find a bride to carry on the family legacy. When the plague subsided some years later, Albrecht was given the chance to attend the renown institute both his parents had in their youth. A mercy as much as a means to prepare him for the harsh realities of rulership, for he could at least experience a few precious months at the Monastery before returning home, a man grown, to do his duty and take a wife.

So began his days at Garreg Mach.

Trivia

• Albrecht stands at just over six feet in height, with a willowy build that belies his physical might.
• Albrecht's favorite food is peach sorbet, something he has fond memories of eating during the arid summers at Castle Varley. It certainly isn't his only favored treat, though: the young man is known to have a sweet tooth, and the Monastery's snack cart tests his temperance something severe.
• He possesses a strong physical resemblance to his mother, and barring his height, could easily be confused with her. Consequently, he is considered rather fair to look upon, and it has been said more than once that he is prettier than a number of his female cousins. A fact which flusters him terribly.
• Albrecht is banned from gambling halls across his father's lands. While he insists he would never willingly partake in the vice, a particular incident wherein his elder brother took him out on the town as youths saw at least one unlucky establishment cleaned of its coffers, and his prohibition well earned. This reputation extends to the area around Garreg Mach thanks to its proximity to Varley.

Fire Emblem: The Slumbering Goddess

i really just wanted the 100th post ignore this