мιѕтreѕѕ oғ a мιgнтy вeιng
Music Player Code

“Might I join, sire? This may not be my country, but it is my cause.”

M!A Status: --

{ Independent Cherche of FE13 RP Blog
tracking #wyvernrider }


"I understand… I mean I know… what it means to always… be on guard. What exactly is… a Risen? They appeared… like something where… I am from… except to be brutally… honest the Hollows where… I am from are… much more dangerous… due to the fact… that they can utilize… many different weaponry… with decent skill unlike… those Risen." If he came across as rude when saying that he didn’t mean it. He was mainly saying he saw the Hollows of Drangleic to be much more dangerous than this Risen.

"Cherche? What… a strange name. Ylissean company? This place is… called Ylisse… then, or… do I have… that wrong? I am… Luke current… monarch… of the hollowed… lands of… Drangleic, and… trained Soul Sorcerer. Although becoming… the monarch…  wasn’t even my… reason to go to… Drangleic." He hoped she wouldn’t pry about his reasoning to visit Drangleic she’ll most likely attack him then. He wouldn’t mind explaining Soul Sorcery to her though. He was carrying a staff that exists for the purpose of using Soul Sorcery.

   Listening attentively to his scattered greeting, Cherche gave a quiet sigh. It could almost be a sigh of relief to know, that Luke was no threat to her or her company. And her spark of curiosity lit up almost instantly.A traveler of the Outrealms.

      Risen are creatures not of this world. The undead, you could say. Puppets under the control of an evil God that seek nothing but destruction. Her gloved hands brushing together, she clears her throat and holds her hand out to shake.

   But nonetheless, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Luke of… Drangleic? My, I have never heard of such a place. I assume that is in the Outrealms, yes? Being the confidential and inquisitive person she is, she had no other reason to not ask.

тнe rιgнт ѕιze?


It finally clicked completely for Ricken of what the rider was talking about.


"Oh! I get it! No need to say anymore…"

He looked over to Cherche’s hand with an eager curiosity.

"But would you be willing to tell me who you plan on giving it to? I-i mean if that’s alright…I promise I won’t tell anyone else!”

   A pause came to draw a halt to the conversation. Cherche bit her lip slightly, gripping the gold band with a little bit of anxiety.

      I… I don’t have anyone… to give it to. The statement made her cheeks flush softly. It was embarrassing enough to be holding the ring out publicly, but it was even worse to confess that the bearer was not in her grasp.

If they had a kid meme

  • Name:
  • Gender:
  • General appearance:
  • Personality:
  • Special talents:
  • Who they like better:
  • Who they take after more:
  • Personal headcanon:
  • Face Claim:


The Undead made a depressed body motion due to Cherche not having anything to write with. He also sighed at the same time. He had hoped he wouldn’t need to talk, but it seems he is being forced to. “I am not… here to harm… anyone actually I was… attacked by strange beings… seemed dead, but not. You would not… happen to know… what they were… do you?” He thought he’d ask about the Risen he had encountered. They weren’t  serious threat, but they were still annoying.

"There is also… no reason to look… so threateningly at… me. I can assure… you I am… friendly well at least… more friendly than… others. I will fight… back if you try… to attack me. Who are you?" He seems to have forgotten to introduce himself. The Undead must really not care about something called manners when speaking to people.

   Even if his speech pattern was a bit broken, Cherche could hear the deepness of the voice. A man, she had to assume. Her hand seemed to lower bit by bit, finding that perhaps this stranger meant no harm after all.

      Brushing her hands off, she folded them daintily at her waist, before lowering her head some. My apologies, Sir. A soldier must be on their toes. But I do believe you speak of Risen. A threat to this nation and you as well, it seems." The thought had occurred to her, that she should report these findings of their enemies to Chrom; but perhaps when she could leave this stranger at peace.

   I will not harm you, if you seek not to harm me. I am Cherche, a current resident and soldier of the Ylissean company. Now, who might you be? Her tone had softened a bit, but she still held that daring glint in her eyes.

тнe rιgнт ѕιze?


"I see. Really?" Ricken blinked curiously, "I guess it just shines because it’s new."


This immediately raised another question in the mage’s head.

"So you bought the ring yourself then? What’s it for? Are you…giving it to someone?"

   Oh dear.

      Cherche tried to come up with a quick excuse, but she had to be honest with herself this time.

   In truth… I did buy it for someone else. But I seem to be… having quite the dilemma on my hands. For it’s a rather personal reason, that I should be giving this ring away.


Send a ♒ and I will generate a number for what my muse will say to yours!

A mix of nsfw, crack, fluff, angst, etc.


Read More


The Undead slightly jumped at the voice he heard as he wasn’t expecting it. He only exploring to figure out for one where he was, and to figure out was with those strange humanoid creatures that seemed hollow to him, but weren’t were. As they didn’t release souls when killed like a normal hollow would, but looked one and acted like one, minus some being able to speak. The armored Undead slowly moved out of the shrubbery with his staff of wisdom in one hand with his drangleic shield strapped to the other prepared just in case he gets attacked. He did make a hand motion trying to say he was friendly hoping she’d understand.

The Undead did slightly start freaking out when he noticed that there was a Wyvern with the woman. The only beings he knew of that had Dragonkin with them were the Dragon Riders, and they weren’t exactly fun to face in battle. Although this woman didn’t seem to have a halberd on her like the other Dragon Riders he has faced do. Maybe she was different then again she seemed like she was from this land, but the Undead wasn’t sure. He was mainly just trying to get her to understand through hand motions that he was friendly and needed something to write on and write with as he didn’t want to talk, but was trying to make it like he couldn’t talk.

   A moment to see that this… person, was no Risen, she seemed a little less tense. However, this was a stranger. A spy, perhaps, from a country not so friendly with Ylisse. Plegian? No… that armor was nothing of Plegia’s and there were certainly no reddening colors to prove otherwise.

      The pinkette kept her hand on the axe’s hilt, watching the figure silently for a moment. It was hard to tell whether this person was man or woman— as the only thing that sprung up in her mind was stranger.

   But his surrendering position only made her tilt her head forward some. The gestures of a utensil scribbling on imaginary paper was easy enough, but she only shook her head. …If you are not here to seek of any ill intentions, then I’m afraid to say I have no parchment or quill for the time being. You will have to be audible enough, to prove you are not a true threat. Cherche lifted her chin some in a noble manner, as Minerva only kept her head lowered. Amber slits watching this foreign scented figure.

тнe rιgнт ѕιze?



The young mage couldn’t help but notice the odd look of distress on Cherche’s face. Usually she seemed so calm and relaxed, but for the last day or so Ricken has seen the Wyvern Rider look rather distressed.

Too curious for his own good, he approaches her, tipping his hat up a bit.

"Hey Cherche? Are you doing alright?"

He asked in a concerned tone, looking over the golden band in her hand.

"That’s one expensive looking ring. Is it yours?"

   Hardly had she come to notice the mage approach her, the circlet being laid to rest in her palm. Eyelashes fluttering for a moment, she struggled to regain her composure.

      O-Oh, Sir Ricken.

   I did not see you there… but ah, yes. I am quite alright.

      How embarrassing. She’d close her fist over the ring before giving a smile, Why… yes, this is mine. It’s not as expensive as it may look, honestly.

viwan themes