Date: 2021-01-14 06:59 pm (UTC)
persecutetioncomplex: (x)
From: [personal profile] persecutetioncomplex
[Bernadetta is not the type who should ever do more than care for her own territory, at most. The thought of what she might have wrought as the Minister of Religion would be alarming, if complete denunciation of the Church hadn't already been on Edelgard's docket. On the bright side, religious freedom might have been at a bewildering and very complicated high.]

Well... yes?

[She looks at him, wide-eyed and guileless, and he might need to brace himself for what comes next.]

How, um... how exactly is that... different from usual? People are always nice when they need something. Sometimes that's the only way they will be nice to you. But, um, knowing how long they'll be nice h-helps you figure out how much they're willing to put up with before it's not... not worth it to them.

[Her anxieties are a deep, deep bedrock, gilded with swirling motifs of pessimism. She expects to be cajoled and begged and threatened to meet somebody else's expectations.

Why wouldn't she?

That's just how things work.]
Edited (html.........) Date: 2021-01-14 10:34 pm (UTC)

Date: 2021-01-17 11:04 pm (UTC)
persecutetioncomplex: (ix)
From: [personal profile] persecutetioncomplex
[What Claude doesn't know is she is those things, sometimes. She's just also spent more than two decades trapped in a manor with her father, as well.]

I think... we're, um, like the P-Professor.

[She pauses, swallowing a lump in her throat.]

Um, a-at the very start I mean. People... people with abilities, a-and shadowy pasts, a-and, um. And.

[Her confidence is faltering, but she pushes through even as she wilts.]

Edelgard and Prince Dimitri a-and, um, and you too; you... at the s-start, you all tried to put your best foot forward. To... make use of that person.

[A strong, powerful mercenary. That was all they were, before any bonds were forged.]

S-So. Isn't... isn't that happening here? And, um, now?

Date: 2021-01-20 04:17 am (UTC)
persecutetioncomplex: (xiv)
From: [personal profile] persecutetioncomplex
So, um, more everyone after the Bl... the Blade of the Creator showed up.

[She nods slightly, either to herself or along with him. It's hard to say just which one, right now.]

Well, they didn't...they didn't do anything to me, even when I-I was in the hospital. Or, um, the other people that... that would've just died. More than, um, the... people arriving nearly did, I mean.

[She pauses for a moment, but her expression grows strained, for a moment, like she's not satisfied that she's actually getting her point across. She takes a steadying breath and tries again.]

The ones, that, um. Th-that they could've just... pretended they c-couldn't have fixed, even i-if they tried. We're, um. We're still here, and not... disappeared, somewhere. So. So... um, whatever they want from us, they, um, they can't force it. ...y-yet, at least. Or, um, something... like that.

Date: 2021-01-20 05:34 am (UTC)
persecutetioncomplex: (Default)
From: [personal profile] persecutetioncomplex
Y-Yeah.

[She knits her fingers together, anxious and sick at the very thought.]

That's... how do they know we can do that? Did they, um, test the first people to a-arrive, or...?

Date: 2021-01-20 04:26 pm (UTC)
persecutetioncomplex: (Default)
From: [personal profile] persecutetioncomplex
...those.

[Bernadetta von Varley is no stranger to hiding oneself, to shifting away from glances and perceived judgment. She has an inkling about him having a similar hesitation now, but she can’t even begin to fathom why and so let’s the thought fade rather than following the thread. Instead, kindly, perhaps cruelly, because he likely knows where the fatal blow struck, she acts instead.

She lays a flinching hand over her own chest, where the Blade of the Creator struck deepest, where there’s now a seam of glittering purple gemstone, a little less than a handspan wide, slashed between her breasts.]


...y-yeah. Um, I just... I, well, I don’t know how they knew ours can do what they want.

Date: 2021-01-20 08:10 pm (UTC)
persecutetioncomplex: (vii)
From: [personal profile] persecutetioncomplex
Well... maybe they poked and prodded while I-I ws... out of it, b-but, um—

[On cue, there's a small chime from her device, gently reminding her of an unmet quota.

She ignores it, staring somewhere over Claude's shoulder as her cheeks burn.]


...Is this... something the native people do? OR... or can't do? Or, um, used to be able to do? Will we... stop producing wh-what they want from us, e-eventually, like, um, like a mine picked clean? Or, uh, or do we need to keep touching so, um... well, like livestock do, I-I mean?

[Bringing up wetnurses seems way too scandalous, in this case.]

Date: 2021-01-22 02:21 pm (UTC)
persecutetioncomplex: (ii)
From: [personal profile] persecutetioncomplex
[In true Bernadetta fashion, she's kicking herself as soon as the words leave her mouth. That was too much, too gloomy, too dark; what kind of twisted weirdo just up and says something like 'oh, what if we've gotten dragged into a magic people farm?'

Stupid, stupid Bernie.]


Just, um.

[It feels so weird, to say this to somebody she can't remember ever properly meeting before. Somebody she might have fought against, if she ended up surviving just a little longer.]

Just... b-be careful? I... guess?

[She knits her fingers together again, then glances down at them in a stuttered, uncertain moment, and her guilt at making things even more awkward threatens to swallow her whole, for a moment.

So, in true Bernadetta fashion, she blurts out the next thing to cross her mind, to change the course of this downer of a conversation.]


D-Do you! Um... Do you... want to, uh, try it? To, um, see how m-much they get from... s-simple things.

Date: 2021-01-22 03:08 pm (UTC)
persecutetioncomplex: (Default)
From: [personal profile] persecutetioncomplex
[Fair enough; it's not totally paranoia if you aren't sure they aren't out to get you.]

I-I'm sorry, that... that was a bad idea, wasn't it?! ...way too forward, completely untoward, rude...

[She falls into a series of self-castigating mumbles, but a lifetime of reluctantly absorbed etiquette training kicks in, and her hand is lightly curled in the crook of his arm apparently without her actual intent or acknowledgement.

When he moves, she'll follow in step, but he'll need to get her attention back if he wants to continue their doom and gloom spitballing.]

Date: 2021-01-22 03:54 pm (UTC)
persecutetioncomplex: (vi)
From: [personal profile] persecutetioncomplex
...?!

[She jolts slightly, jarred from her little spiral, and blinks up at him.]

I-It was?

[So much uncertainty, in so few words.]

...oh. Um, y-you're right. I mean, they... probably guess that a lot of us won't trust them, but, um, knowing e-exactly who... would be bad. ...right?

Date: 2021-01-23 05:51 pm (UTC)
persecutetioncomplex: (x)
From: [personal profile] persecutetioncomplex
Huh?

[The hand is distracting, because that was never in the etiquette instructions. It implied a level of basic consideration and esteem she rarely received back then. Ferdinand has done this for her before, of course, because he’s something out of the most sterling courtly tale come to life, but it’s hard to really put Claude in the same mental box as Ferdinand von Aegir for... a variety of reasons, really.

Still, what he just said is enough to snap her attention back to him and she blinks up with large, puzzled eyes.]


Um, is it? I’ve gone entire years without touching or being touched by... anybody at all, really. As long as they don’t, um, don’t tie us up or something, it... doesn’t seem that hard? Though, um, the messages are... a little bit annoying.
Edited Date: 2021-01-23 05:51 pm (UTC)

Date: 2021-01-25 05:09 pm (UTC)
persecutetioncomplex: (xii)
From: [personal profile] persecutetioncomplex
[The hidden price of a position of power: sometimes you're literally untouchable, rather than just metaphorically.

She shifts as they stroll, but her hand doesn't pull away from his arm; there's a thrumming, almost magnetic undertone to that little connection, and it's nice and understatedly pleasant in a way that's both thrilling and a bit scary to somebody who usually hides away.

The thought of what it would feel like if they weren't wearing gloves prickles at the corner of her brain, and she crushes it immediately but unsuccessfully at the sheer impropriety.]


That's... weird.

[Her tone is slow, and thoughtful.]

Is that...

[She falls silent, beneath the murmur of the other pedestrians and the tap of their boots on the pavement. But, Claude has been unusually supportive of her usual paranoid ramblings, so she screws her courage together and tries, anyways.]

Do you think that... that might be why we remember things differently? To, um. To have at least a little bit of a connection, I-I mean. Like... l-like how, um, how you recognized me, but I... couldn't.

[No, Bernie, that one's entirely on you.]

Date: 2021-01-26 08:02 pm (UTC)
persecutetioncomplex: (vi)
From: [personal profile] persecutetioncomplex
[This is a powder keg of rampant imagination and paranoia ready to blow, and they're both the equivalent of those joke candles that only burn brighter when you try to blow them out.]

Well, n-no, I didn't... I didn't mean less animosity. One of us would, um, one of us would remember me joining you o-or you joining Edelgard, if that was the case. I, um, I meant... this weird sort of mystery.

[She gestures between them, discretely.]

It, well, it's... it's compelling. Like, how a plot twist in a novel brings characters together. Trying... trying to figure this out is literally bringing us together, right now.

[But then she catches up with his trailing implication and she gives him an affronted, wide-eyed look, cheeks slightly puffed into a pout and more than slightly red.]

H-Hey! I... I could've recognized you later!

[Nah.]

...o-or, if I had heard you drawing your bow, I-I definitely would! I ran away from the training fields any time it sounded like they were occupied, and p-people have... have really distinct shooting styles!

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