supplemental soulchains

Ah, Feru, sweet Feru. Seer's spiritual sibling is much quieter, calmer, even tamer, but Seren is so glad to have someone so serious on their side. Most BLADEs - team leaders, for one thing - are so bombastic, so personality-driven, that it can be hard to ever truly feel settled. But there Feru is! They're research-ready and always eager to dig for any intel that Seren's just a little too cloud-minded to find for themself.

It was with Feru around that Seren first thought to ask the question: am I smart? Are any of the people picked to be BLADEs dumb? And the answer is, of course, yes, there are many upon many a questionable choice made every day, and Seren as Elma-designated elite will be assigned and willing to go clean the unthinking up. But there's being smart and then there's being smart. Seren gets so hyperfocused on making the right ethical move that they forget, sometimes, how and when to save effort completely.

Not that Feru's only benefit is a commodifiable one. Seren, without a doubt, has a deep love for the zany, and Feru breaks its façade with just the right timing to make Seren crack - they've both got intense levels of stone-face that they usually forget to engage, but when left alone with each other, it becomes a fierce competition.

It doesn't take detailed knowledge of Earth species to know that Razor's probably not actually who or what they think they are. In pondering this dilemma, Seren has decided that they're grateful to still feel the presence of what they once were in their scattered memories, rather than having nothing to tie them back to the stars besides a fashion-accessory halo.

Certainly, Razor is much more like a mythical bird-human hybrid of the world they came from than Seren is anything like a supermassive star. The rigid affect set over his face belies a hidden capacity for vulnerability, but Seren actually finds that they enjoy Razor's public persona best. It's a chance to win the esteem of a higher standard! And Razor likes a judicious measure of reservation. After all, if they get too gushy, Seren'll feel like they're intruding on a private moment that should belong to Phog.

The other lingering elephant is Razor's skosh of a crush on L, which Seren feels just a mite too protective to help along. When it comes to teasing folks over their romantic attraction, Seren can usually flow with the banter and keep neatly abreast, but this close to them and their best odd mate, it'd be too awkward.

Regardless, the pair agree heartily on fashion sense and color palettes; two pleasant, distant friends.

Though only figuratively, Seren counts Prince well fit to their winged trio. She is, admittedly, rather much spunkier and scruffier than the other two, but Seren's never said no to a little bit of electricity - say, learning the Javelin style? Prince, notably, is a great one for switching into the necessary class for arms testing missions, so Seren can stay stable on their feet and not have to worry about bobbing and weaving through all the required indigens while Prince slays in a more rugged version of Seren's same outfit. They often wonder if she's simply forgotten the fear that usually comes attendant to things like that - like changing division, even if that's more or less a formality.

Another point for Prince is their skill with a Skell. Stormfly, huge and imposing and beautiful, coasts the skies even when Seren's feeling too queasy to watch, jumping from wreckage to wreckage and collectible cave to Telethia nest. It makes Seren consider trying out a heavier model, but Sirius is the same stock Vandham gave when they first got their license, and they're reticent to pick another. So this is how they learn that they're not great with change...makes sense, though, doesn't it?

Awestruck by Prince's effortless power, Seren bows (takes a breather, most like) and looks toward Volitaris, safe on the ground.