I know we've literally seen none of these characters, or those in the last pairing profile yet, but we will soon enough. On with the profile.
Pairing Profiles: Maribelle x Libra
~Like Gregor x Tharja, this pairing was made less for its in-game appeal and more for what I was going for in this particular story. Don't get me wrong, this pairing's great, but I still can't wrap my head around how Maribelle's pretty face and Libra's pretty face merged into Brady's thug-like face. I mean, I guess it came from somebody else, maybe Maribelle's dad or something, because there's no way their pretty genes mutated into scary face genes. To be fair, this problem exists for most of the other suitors, so I guess it can't be helped.
~Like with Tharja, I was looking for someone who wouldn't protest Maribelle's authoritarian parenting style. Libra would not only be more passive, but probably even support it. The most he'd probably do is stop Maribelle when she's gone too far. So yes, Brady would still be raised in a ridged house, and some of his quirks are teenage rebellion (in this story, not so sure about in canon).
~Also look at all this religion in this household. Maribelle prays every morning, Libra's a monk, and Brady shows up as a squishy priest. PRAISE NAGA!
~Oh look, Brady's blond in this story. Thanks Libra.
Inigo slumped down at the foot of his bed, sweat and tears rolling down his face. The music continued to blare from his speakers and drowned out his harsh panting. His legs felt like pudding from his persistent dancing. He could hardly even move, safe for having enough strength in his arm to lift it up on the bed and rest his head against it.
He knew he shouldn't push himself this hard, but this was more of a coping method than anything at this point. Today had to be one of the worst he had in years, what with being rejected via chocolate milk and having almost an entire class of his laugh about it towards the end of the day. He came home taut as a stretched rubber band and was on the verge of snapping, so he locked himself in his bedroom and cranked up the music. Better he dance until he could hardly move than punch a hole in the wall or get in some pointless argument with his parents.
His lip trembled and he sniffled. "Tomorrow's got to be better..."
...
With Wednesday morning came a new sense of optimism for Inigo. He'd get back out there and show everyone that yesterday didn't hurt him, even if he got laughed out of the cafeteria. He went to school head high and ready for anything. Then, with a deep breath, he approached a nearby girl and greeted her with a "Hello there, miss."
"Oh!" The girl swung around to face him and gaped at him for a second before seeming to collect herself. "Hi, Inigo."
He pulled on his most dashing smile. "Isn't today a lovely morning?"
She shrugged. "It's a morning, I guess. Look, I have to go."
"You can't stay just a moment longer?" Inigo asked.
This produced a raised brow in response. "Don't you have a boyfriend?" She then turned and left.
Those words repeated themselves in Inigo's head several times. A... boyfriend? Surely this must have been some joke. Or maybe it was a mistake? Maybe she meant girlfriend. That had to be it.
Inigo took a deep breath and pulled his smile back on. He wouldn't let this get him down. Today was supposed to be better. He went ahead and approached a group of chicks chatting by the school library doors. He leaned against the wall as he said, "So, what are you fine ladies talking about?"
The five girls looked his way and one of them replied, "Oh, actually we were just talking about you, Inigo. Funny how that works."
Odd. "All good things, I hope."
"Oh, yeah, of course," giggled another, a violet-haired beauty. "It's just we should have known why you try so hard to pick up girls. I'm sorry that I called you a man-whore."
At this point, Inigo had a sinking feeling in his stomach. "I don't follow."
"You don't have to hide it, silly," said a blonde, "you got nothing to be ashamed of."
Oh no... She didn't... He felt like he was about to hurl.
"Oh my gods, you have to give us the details," the first added. "How long were you and Brady going out?"
She did. All the blood drained from his face and he was very much thankful that he leaned against the wall. "I-I think you're mistaken," Inigo stammered, his tongue having gone dead in his mouth, "we're not-"
Severa's lips tugged into a satisfied smirk as she watched Inigo's face go ghost white. He was painfully stumbling with his words, and the girls he was trying to seduce were now badgering him about his relationship with Brady.
Revenge was so sweet.
Suddenly his knees gave and he slid down the wall, ending up in a crumpled heap on the floor. His hand raised slightly to grab for something, but it fell down beside his head and he went still. Severa stared with a slack jaw. Did he actually just faint?! She could only stand stiffly while the girls who had been questioning him were now backing away. Their eyes were wide with shock, and one covered her mouth in her hands. You idiots, do something!
"Oh my gods!" one of the girls exclaimed. "I think he fainted!"
It wasn't even long before they conjured up a crowd with all their panic. Sick with anger, Severa grit her teeth and got up from the bench with every intention of getting the nurse. Two steps later, Owain cut through the crowd and crouched down beside Inigo. He scooped Inigo up off the ground and got back to his feet. Whether it was because Owain was actually strong or Inigo was just incredibly lightweight (considering he's so small, it wouldn't be much a surprise), the former had little trouble carrying his classmate away, not even so much as a word to the crowd.
Severa stood there with lead feet as she watched Owain turn down the hall in the direction of the nurse. She clenched her hands into fists and headed after them, the weight of the situation settled in her stomach like a rock.
When she arrived at the nurse's office, Rhys was already looking Inigo over, who lay completely out cold on the cot with his jacket rolled up as a pillow under his head. Owain sat on a separate cot and was watching the nurse work until Severa walked in. He looked up when the door opened, a startling amount of fury in his eyes. Severa almost backed out of the room in that instant, but she steeled herself and proceeded inside.
"How is he?" Severa asked, now that she was closer, she could see how pale Inigo's face still was.
Some of Owain's hostility died when she asked. The nurse glanced up momentarily to see who was there. "He'll be fine," Rhys answered, returning to his work, "Did you need something?"
"No, I just..." Severa trailed off. If only she came up with an excuse. "I just wanted to know if he'd be alright."
Rhys pulled the sphygmometer off Inigo's arm and the stethoscope out of his ears. "I may just be keeping him in here for a while though. You two don't need to stay, class will be starting up soon."
"No, I'll stay here," Owain said, "he and I have a lot of classes together, so I'll keep an eye on him."
The nurse frowned. "Well alright, I guess. Then, let me just write you a pass too."
Severa sat down next to Owain on the cot. She could just leave, it would be so much easier. She knew that Inigo would be fine and so there was no reason to stay, but something kept her rooted there. "Owain?" She got his attention and she looked down. "Could you... maybe tell Inigo I said... sorry?"
Whatever anger that was left was replaced with complete surprise. "Wait, seriously? You're apologizing?"
Her face burned and she clenched her fists on her lap. "Of course I am, you idiot. This was my fault."
"Tell him yourself," he told her. At her shocked expression, he continued with, "Look, you did this. Yeah, he'll be mad, but at least you can own up to your actions yourself." She looked down again, ashamed, and he sighed. "I'm not surprised that you spread the rumor in the first place. Though honestly, I'm more angry at everyone spectating in the halls. I know Inigo can be a jerk, but even he doesn't deserve this sort of crap."
"Is that why you helped him?" Severa asked.
Owain rocked his hand in a "so-so" gesture. "Not exactly. I guess I just wanted to play the hero."
"Considering nobody else wanted to, it's a good thing you did." Severa replied. "I mean, I'd expect one person to run off and find Rhys, but nobody did. It's pathetic."
He sighed and diverted his attention to the floor, his fingers drumming on his leg. "I guess it says a lot about our city."
The bell rang and Severa got up to leave. Her feet dragged like lead weights and her hand fell heavy on the door handle. She pulled the door half open and paused, once again glancing at Inigo. Lips dropping to a tight frown, she slipped away.
The first thing Inigo became aware of was how hot and fuzzy he felt. Confusion immediately took hold. What happened? His heart started to flutter, compounding the thick numbness in his body. He tried to move, but was immediately met with the dead weight that was his arms. All he could actually manage was a tiny groan and a tilt of his head.
"Rhys, I think he's waking up," someone said not far away.
A hand came to Inigo's shoulder, pushing him back down. "Just lie still for now and take deep breaths, okay?"
Inigo's jaw trembled as he opened his mouth to protest, but all he managed to produce was pathetic whine. He then followed the nurse's advice and breathed slower and deeper.
"There. I'll be right back, just keep that up." Rhys' hand vanished from his chest and Inigo was left with whoever nearby. He hadn't thought too hard about the voice, nor did he care to. A minute had passed and some of the overwhelming numbness subsided when Rhys returned. "Okay, can you sit up, Inigo?"
The strain of pushing himself up made his arms quake, but he managed to sit. The moment he did though, the blood drained from his head again and his stomach lurched painfully. He hunched over and let his head rest on his hands, hoping that it would subside soon. "What happened?" He asked, though his voice was still weak.
"You fainted in the hall," that someone, Owain, said.
Rhys sat himself down at the end of Inigo's cot. "Owain, since you're here, could you run down to the cafeteria and ask one of the lunch ladies for a carton of juice? Just tell them I sent you."
Owain shot up to his feet. "Right! I will get it before you even notice I left!" He then bolted out the door, leaving Inigo and Rhys in the nurse's office.
A bead of sweat trickled from Inigo's brow and he sighed. "Shouldn't he be back by now?"
Rhys chuckled and shook his head. "I see your sense of humor is still intact. Now, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?" Inigo shrugged and Rhys continued. "Right, so have you fainted before?"
"No, not as far as I can remember," Inigo answered.
"No lightheadedness or dizziness ever?"
"No."
The nurse frowned. "I see. Well, this might just be a one time thing, but, if this happens again, you might want to go consult a doctor."
"Alright," Inigo said. Was it time for class? Last thing Inigo wanted was to be late again. "Can I go now?"
Rhys shook his head. "Sorry, but I'm keeping you here for a bit longer." In Rhys' hand was a clipboard, and he jotted away at some sheet. Inigo watched, as there was very little else he could do. This went on for what felt like forever.
The door opened and Owain returned, a carton of orange juice and a cookie in hand, and he presented Rhys with them, "Here you are!"
Inigo picked up his head to look at his classmate. "You took your time."
Owain responded with "I was delayed by tyrannical forces on my quest!"
"Did a hall monitor stop you?" Inigo guessed.
"Ehh... yeah..." Owain chuckled. "I may have been running and I may not have had a hall pass."
"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot to write one up for you," Rhys said. He passed the juice and cookie to Inigo. "Here, this will help." He then got up and returned to his desk where he started typing on his computer.
Inigo opened the carton and drank some of the juice. "Thanks, Owain. You really didn't have to."
"Don't worry about it," Owain replied and plopped down on the other cot again. "Look, I know we get under each other's skin, but maybe it's time we grow and get along."
"Are you saying this out of pity?" Inigo questioned, shame boiling up into frustration. "Because if that's what this is, then you can forget it."
Owain knitted his brows, looking genuinely thrown off by his response. "What? No, that's not why at all. I just think our bickering's gone far enough. I mean, we've been at this since elementary school and I don't even remember what it all started from."
Sitting up straight now, Inigo took a deep breath and took another sip of juice. Owain was right, they had been getting on each other's backs since they were kids. If he wasn't mistaken, it was something like the 1st grade when he went poking around Owain's cubby and found his "MANUEL OF JUSTIS" and wrote a bunch of little notes all over the thing. Owain got back at him by leaving a couple frogs in his cubby and it became a full blown cubby war for as long as they had cubbies to terrorize. Perhaps it was a blessing that Owain was quick to forget things, but still... "If you're expecting me to be friends with you-"
"No, I don't," Owain interrupted, "but instead of enemies, maybe we could be rivals."
"Rivals?" Inigo raised a brow.
"Yeah, no malice." Owain confirmed and extended his hand. "So what do you say?"
Inigo stared down Owain's hand for several seconds and took it. "Sure. I guess it couldn't hurt." The smile that spread across Owain's face was oddly satisfying for Inigo, and he couldn't help smiling back before chuckling to himself. Things started out rough today, but maybe this was where things would get better. "I've got one question though."
"Hm?"
"I'm sure you probably heard the rumor... about me and Brady." Inigo rubbed the back of his neck, his face starting to burn. "Do you believe it?"
Owain stared at him hard, then he broke out in laughter and buried his head in his hands. "D-did you really just ask that? No, of course I don't believe that!"
Inigo's face turned a deeper shade of red as he hunched down and glared down at the cookie in his hands. He couldn't believe that Owain was laughing at him. At least there was someone who realized the truth, but he could at least not be an ass about it.
When Owain's laughter died down, he kept an ear to ear grin as he said, "Sorry, it just seemed like a stupid thing to ask. I'm pretty sure nobody actually believes that rumor anyway."
"Yeah, maybe you're right." Inigo finished his juice and unwrapped the cookie.
"Are you working today?" Owain asked.
Inigo was about the bite into the cookie, but paused at the question. What did this matter? "Um, no? I don't work on Wednesdays."
If it were possible, Owain's grin grew even larger.
Unnerved, Inigo leaned back slightly and lowered the cookie from his face. "Owain, you're scaring me..."
"Since you're not busy, maybe you can come to my D&D club after school," Owain suggested, almost bouncing with excitement.
"No." Inigo quickly bit into the cookie to avoid saying anything else. There was literally nothing nice he could say about that absurd game.
"Aw, why not?" Owain shot back. "It wouldn't kill you to try it out. If you don't like it, then you don't need to show up again, but at least give it a chance."
Inigo swallowed and shrugged. "Well, let's just say that D&D players have a harsh reputation for being losers."
"It's not that lame though," Owain disagreed, "really, it's a lot of fun."
"Why would you want me to play anyways?" Inigo shot back.
Owain crossed his arms, "Because I think you'd make a great bard. Besides, you could pick up barmaids."
"I'd rather pick up actual chicks." Inigo retorted.
"Yeah, well imaginary chicks are better than what you're getting," Owain remarked.
"Touche." Inigo grumbled and sighed a very, very heavy and exasperated sigh. At this rate, today wouldn't be all that great after all. What could he possibly have to lose? "Fine. Whatever, I'll try it out."
"Really? You mean it? This is great, you won't be disappointed!" Owain whooped in victory, ready to shoot up to his feet. Maybe, just maybe, he was right.
If nothing else, Gerome liked to think that nothing short of the world shattering under his feet could surprise him. After all, he had 18 years under his belt and he was very sure he saw the craziest things that this world had to offer. This was, of course, before he came into his math class, where he found several girls fawning over Brady. They were practically on top of the guy while he slumped further and further down into his chair in some doomed effort to escape their adoring coos.
Gerome maintained his apathetic appearance and walked past the spectacle to his desk towards the back of the class. There, he watched the scene unfold behind the mirror lenses of his shades. Not even a week ago, these same girls were snickering about Brady's hair looking stupid and that he was probably a drug dealer. So what in the seven hells could have possibly happened to make them suddenly so clingy?
Finally, Brady had about enough of it and fished around in his backpack, pulling out a pair of sunglasses which he promptly threw on.
"Aw, you don't need to be so shy," one of the girls cooed, reaching for the frame of the sunglasses to take them off.
Brady's hand whipped up to stop her and he exclaimed, "Would'ya just leave me alone?"
One of the girls was draped over his shoulder, "It's okay, you don't need to lie. We love sensitive bi-guys!"
"Oh for cryin' out loud, I ain't bi!" Brady snapped and jerked his shoulder away from her. "Now beat it, I'm done talkin'!"
Oh, that's it... Gerome recalled some silly rumor about Brady and Inigo making out or something to that effect. When he heard it, he blew it off, but word seemed to spread much, much faster than he expected. It's not like Gerome believed it either. Brady may be a wimp, but that didn't mean much. Gerome was very sure that the Junior was straight as a board. Considering who his parents were, that made the most sense.
At this point, Gerome wasn't even watching this because it was fun. No, it was very much the opposite. It was like watching daytime television when nothing's on but sitcoms and commercials about male virility pills. There's just so many better things you could be doing, but this is the only thing to watch right now. He toyed with the idea of stepping in and helping Brady out of his predicament, but the time for action passed when the teacher walked in. She told the class to take their seats and the girls quickly fled to their desks.
She dropped a couple folders on her desk and turned to face the class. Though when she did, she arched her brows. "Brady, take off the sunglasses, we're indoors."
Reflexively, Brady stiffened and then looked every which way. "You never make Gerome take his off!"
"Believe me, I tried," she scoffed. "Now take them off."
Brady removed his sunglasses and nestled his head in his arms on the desk.
Class started up normally and then it soon went to everyone pairing off to do the classwork. As usual, Gerome partnered up with Lucina, who seemed more than a little distracted. Gerome originally intended to let it be, but this was the third day she's been like this since Monday, possibly over the weekend. He was sure that now was okay to ask what was up.
"Lucina," Gerome said to get her attention. She, however, had fixed the paper with a blank stare and didn't notice. He gently took hold of her wrist, feeling the stark difference of her warm skin verses his normally cool hand, and shook her arm. "Hey, Lucina."
She jumped, some of her hair falling out of place as she did, and she huffed and fixed her hair. "Sorry, Gerome. What problem were we on again?"
"What's been with you lately," he asked.
Lucina peeked up and frowned. "Nothing's wrong..."
"You're usually much more alert than this," he reminded her.
"I know." She sighed and tapped her pen on the desk. Finally she stood up with a quick "I'm going to the bathroom" and retreated from the classroom without even so much as grabbing the hall pass or signing herself out. The teacher gave Gerome a confused look, to which he could only shrug.
Gerome kept himself busy by doing the problems on the worksheet, but after five or so minutes he thought that Lucina was taking just a little too long. He stared down at her discarded pen left on the her desk and then to her worksheet. She had been absently scribbling before she left. After another four minutes, Gerome decided that he should probably go look for her. He got up and, unlike her, signed out and grabbed the bathroom pass next to the door. He then walked down to the nearest set of bathrooms, where he hoped to find her.
He waited outside the girls' room for another minute before Lucina came out, her eyes puffy and red and water dripping down her face. She was startled by Gerome's presence and looked down. "I'm sorry. Was I gone for too long?"
"Seriously, what's up?" Gerome asked again.
She sniffled. "I-I did some bad things."
Now he was worried. "What did you do?"
"I played hooky last Friday," she said. "My dad grounded me."
Whatever worry he had immediately dissipated and he felt tempted to hit his head against the wall. "Really? That's what you're worked up about?"
She looked positively shocked by his reaction and stared up at him. "What do you mean? I went behind my dad's back, isn't that bad?"
"No, that's normal." Gerome replied. "Teenagers do stupid things and they learn from them."
"Wait, what?" Lucina couldn't have looked more confused.
Gerome gave an exasperated sigh. "It's probably just hard for you to cope because you're a daddy's girl. But really, I know people who do even stupider things than cut school. Now just let it go." He walked with her back to class, and thankfully she managed to compose herself. They got straight back to work and just barely managed to finish the worksheet before the end of class. He couldn't believe that Lucina could be so dense sometimes.
When the end of the day rolled around, everyone gathered up in Ricken's classroom for D&D Club. While Owain ran around trying to get everything ready, Morgan and Marc sat at the collection of desks arranged in the center of the room. Around the desk collective were the other club members. Laurent was reading a book and Cynthia was jabbering off excitedly about the kind of character she planned on making. Morgan hardly paid any mind to it, as she seemed preoccupied with something, so Marc lent his ear to his classmate.
"I'm going to be the best hero ever! And everyone's going to know my name," Cynthia proclaimed.
"Have you thought about what kind of build you want to do?" Marc asked.
Cynthia bobbed her head up and down eagerly, "Oh, yeah! I'm going to have mad stats and feats in all the classes, that way I have the ultimate build that no one can defeat."
Laurent lowered his book a moment and gave Cynthia a critical stare. "You do realize that what you're planning here would be highly impractical, correct?"
Cynthia stammered to her defense, something about how by taking levels in all the classes, she can get an insane character. This was, unsurprisingly, countered with the fact that she would miss out on important feats in certain classes and would take forever to accomplish. It was decidedly awesome but impractical.
"You just don't understand!" Cynthia said, crossing her arms in frustration.
"Actually, Laurent has a point," Marc interjected. "Have you ever heard of a min-max character? Those are characters who are crazy specialized to do one or two things and are absolutely terrible at everything else. They do that because they can only throw so much in their stats. A more balanced character won't have straight 20s or anything, but more like 10s, to 16s. Even then, you're probably going to have some dump stat."
By then, Noire peeked into the room and, upon seeing the rest of the club there, entered and joined them at the cluster of desks. "Hi guys," she greeted softly.
"Greetings, traveler!" Owain appeared just behind her, startling her. Her reaction was something akin to a cat's, as she jumped and almost seemed to have her hair standing on end. Owain blinked at this, surprised, and apologized before turning his attention down to the rest of the group. "Alright. I still have a couple more things I have to do before we can get started, but it shouldn't take me long." He then rushed off to go do just that.
Marc felt a tap on his hand drawing his attention to his sister. "What's up?"
"Can I talk to you?" Morgan requested.
Marc knitted his brows, "Uh, sure. I guess."
At a restaurant downtown, a Plegian woman tapped her heel as she waited for her "date". She twirled a long strand of white hair around her finger, almost bored, and stared down the the half-consumed drink in front of her.
Footsteps alerted her to someone approaching, and she turned to see the man she was waiting for. He gave her an affable smile, and sat across from her. He too was Plegian, a white haired guy who had a presence to him that made her uneasy. He signaled the waitress over and ordered himself a drink, then neatly folded his hand on the table. "So, if I heard the news correctly, Robin's still breathing."
"Yes, unfortunately," she replied. "The two we sent failed to execute her. I have already taken it upon myself to deal with them. Because of their incompetence, she was taken to the hospital, as you know."
The man gave a steady hum and he rubbed his jaw. "Hmm... We can't do much about this right now. If she's still admitted in the hospital then there's no way that we can finish the job, and the cops will be keeping a close eye on her. Things just got much more difficult."
"Oh, and it only gets better. I know this sounds hilarious, but it seems we also have a couple nosy children getting involved too." The woman added.
"We'll need to tread carefully then," he said. "A pair of brats doesn't intimidate me. The legal trouble, however, will be a problem if we did away with them. Let them be, scare them off if you have to. Just be sure not to harm them in the slightest."
She smirked and took a long sip from her drink, staring up at him with a dark, seductive gleam in her eyes. She replaced the glass on the table and rubbed the smudge of lipstick off the rim. "Understood. Though I'm hoping some common sense kicks into their little heads first." She crossed her legs and lightly brushed her foot against his shin, an action that didn't go unnoticed. "I hope you haven't forgotten that we still need to deal with Robin. If she testifies-"
"I know," he interrupted. "We're treading on thin ice as is. I would say that we need to get her to keep her trap shut, but I doubt she'll be easily persuaded. She also won't fall for the same trap twice either, so we're just going to need to get creative with our methods."
"No doubt you'll think of something," she purred.
The waitress, a teenager with long pigtails, reappeared at the table with the man's drink. "Here you go, sir." He thanked her and she quickly went to the next table, as she had a tray with several other drinks.
The two sat at the table, and the conversation shifted to a more light and casual one concerning the war breaking out all across Valm. As far as anyone was concerned, it was a very normal dinner date.
This chapter was oddly a very fun one to write. I happen to very much enjoy writing characters suffering for whatever reason. Also, yes, we have some shifty things happening behind the scenes.
I also got to put Rhys in this chapter. I freaking love him.
I think now's a great time to bring up the fact that I'm handling Robin's chances of remembering things completely by chance. She's got a 5% chance (I've decided) of remembering something at certain points. So I basically roll a d20 to decide whether she does or not. Should she actually remember something, how telling the memory is is determined with 1d4. 1 being a vague sense of familiarity or a nagging feeling that she can't quite put her finger on, and 4 being a full on flashback.
In the last chapter, there was a certain scene where she could have potentially remembered something rather important when Marc and Morgan got home, and if she did then this chapter then that'd affect this chapter.
Thanks for reading and I'll be out with the next chapter soon.
