Owain/Supports

C Support

 * Owain: Hey, Lucina.
 * Lucina: Greetings, Owain. How does the day find you?
 * Owain: Good, good! Just thought I'd drop in for a visit.
 * Lucina: That's kind of you. But... Why are you speaking so strangely today? That is, so strangely... normal. You're typically much more, er, colorful. Making up stories and yelling and the like. Are you feeling all right?
 * Owain: Y-yeah, I'm fine. It's just... You're a princess, Lucina. I figured it wasn't exactly appropriate for addressing royals. Plus, Mom would tan my hide if she ever found out.
 * Lucina: Lissa would object to you spinning yarns for royalty?
 * Owain: Not just royalty! Anybody! She gets really upset whenver I do it. Heh, actually, I suppose most everyone does. They think I'm a bit batty.
 * Lucina: Do they now? That's a shame. Personally, I find it quite intriguing.
 * Owain: What, really?
 * Lucina: It's no simple feat to speak as you do when fantasy grips your mind. Inventing weapon names and such requires a rich vocabulary and quick thinking. And of course your stories demand a particularly active imagination.
 * Owain: I guess they do, don't they? Thanks Lucina!
 * Lucina: Perhaps you might even consider demonstrating how you do it sometime? I've oft been told that my manner of speech is somewhat... formal. If I could learn to adopt your tone, it might prove useful to my own.
 * Owain: Heh, you sound like you're asking me to teach you a foreign language. Hmm... I'm not sure if this would be such a good idea...
 * Lucina: And if I were to pledge never to speak of it to Lissa?
 * Owain: ...Then so be it! Prepare yourself, young Lucina! Your destiny cometh! Hee hee, aw I can't wait.
 * Lucina: I look forward to it as well.

B Support

 * Owain: What are you working on, Lucina?
 * Lucina: Falchion hasn't been at full strength lately, so I'm examining the blade for damage.
 * Owain: Sword troubles, eh? Leave it to me!
 * Lucina: Oh... all right. Thank you.
 * Owain: No blade nicks... No obvious flaws... Aha! Here's your problem!
 * Lucina: You've found something? Excellent! Can it be rectified?
 * Owain: Aw, this is easy. I've even got the tools I need with me. I'll take care of it right now.
 * Lucina: Wondeful. Thank you, Owain! Can I perhaps ask you to speak in your fanciful manner as you work? It would be good practice for my efforts to adjust my own tone.
 * Owain: Heh! All right. I'll speak, and you can practice translating... Hark! Your partner fang resists the remorseless arrow of time! It is infused with the breath of gods and the passion of ages. Should a thousand years pass, it shall never know the red sleep!
 * Lucina: That one is simple. Falchion's blade will never dull or rust no matter how much time passes.
 * Owain: But where fang meets sinew, Falchion remains a mortal work. Even genius cannot hope to stop the turning of the great wheel! And so it is reborn with each generation; transformed, but ever the same in spirit.
 * Lucina: Hmm... But parts of the sword other than the blade DO wear out over time. The guard and the pommel have been replaced over the years, changing its appearance. But it remains Falchion still.
 * Owain: Perfect! That was exactly right. You're amazing, Lucina.
 * Lucina: I suppose I did a fair job for a first time. But you are the amazing one, Owain. To discover all that about a sword from a single glance is a fearsome talent indeed!
 * Owain: Eh, taking care of weapons is kind of a hobby of mine. Oh, hold on... ...Aaaaaand we're done! Here you go.
 * Lucina: Thank you again.
 * Owain: My pleasure. Just let me know if there's anything else I can do.
 * Lucina: Perhaps I will take you up on that.

A Support

 * Owain: Hey there!
 * Lucina: Hello, Owain.
 * Owain: How's the sword treating you? Any better?
 * Lucina: Absolutely! I can really feel the difference. Never hath I spied Pointy Demonspanker shine so brightly!
 * Owain: Pointy... Wait, did you say Demonspanker? But that's Falchion! Treasure of the royal house of Ylisse! ...Er, right?
 * Lucina: It was. But as it has been reborn so many times, I thought to change its name. I tried to think of what you would call it. I pray my efforts were adequate.
 * Owain: *Giggle* Hmm, uh... Heh heh, so... No, I mean, it's a fine name. But, well... The cause to give one's blade a fitting name is a noble one, Lucina. HOWEVER! You committed a grave sin!
 * Lucina: I did?!
 * Owain: To name a weapon is to imbue it with a soul. To change Falchion's name is to insult the spirit it's borne for millennia!
 * Lucina: I... did not consider that.
 * Owain: In your commendable haste to make the sword more dear to your own heart... I fear you've stripped the very soul from your weapon! Though the intentions were laudable, this slight must be undone.
 * Lucina: Yes, of course. I see now how thoughtless it was of me. ...Pray forgive me, Falchion.
 * Owain: It is done. The blade's rightful name is restored. But do not forget the love that spurred you to this brief folly. Keep it with you always. And if you find yourself in need of maintenance, simply call out my name! Heh... I mean, just in case... *giggle* Pointy Demonspanker needs it... Pffffft! Bwa ha ha ha!
 * Lucina: I'm starting to suspect you didn't truly think it was such a fine name...

S Support

 * Owain: Might I beg a moment, Lucina?
 * Lucina: Hmm? Certainly, Owain. You're awfully formal today...
 * Owain: There's something I'd like you to have.
 * Lucina: Oh?
 * Owain: Here.
 * Lucina: ...A sheath?
 * Owain: It should fit Falchion.
 * Lucina: A thoughtful gesure, Owain, but Falchion already has a sheath.
 * Owain: Yes, I know. And it's as old and worn as the pommel I fixed the other day. I thought maybe it was time to retire it.
 * Lucina: You're always so thoughtful, Owain. Thank you. You do too much for me...
 * Owain: Please, it's my pleasure. Plus, it's good for the sword... Because I was thinking it could serve as my proxy.
 * Lucina: How do you mean?
 * Owain: There's no telling what the war holds for us. I probably won't always be there to fight at your side when you need me. But your sheath will always be there. If it can aid you in my stead, I'll rest easier.
 * Lucina: Owain...
 * Owain: I've been trying to think of ways I can help out for a while now, you know? And the other day, you said you were impressed by my way with weapons. So I figured this might be a way I could...show you how I feel.
 * Lucina: That's really beautiful, Owain. I'm certain it will serve me well.
 * Owain: You accept it then?
 * Lucina: Of course, Owain. And with you, this sheath, and Falchion at my side, I have nothing to fear!
 * Owain: Yesss! Oh, I'm so glad I got up the nerve to give it to you!
 * Lucina: From this day forth, we're partners. So no more holding back. Feel free to speak in your normal, abnormal way.
 * Owain: You got it! ...Wait, abnormal?
 * Lucina: I didn't say that. Well, no, I SAID it, but I didn't... I'm sorry, Owain. But it's the fact that it's strange that makes it so fascinating!

C Support

 * Owain: Halt! Who goes there?!
 * Brady: Halt? You're the one who just walked in. I ain't goin' nowheres.
 * Owain: A fine parry, sirrah. And yet, here you stand in garb most strange. Speak, fiend! What nefarious plot are you hatching here?!
 * Brady: What, ya mean here in hte kitchen? Dressed like a chef?
 * Owain: A surcoat and crown of purest white... What strange rituals are--
 * Brady: It's an apron and a chef's hat, idiot! I'm cookin' dinner! Even you can't be that dense. Now quit wasting my time.
 * Owain: Cooking? You? Dinner? Ha! I'd sooner believe a cavalier riding a pegasus over the moon!
 * Brady: Aw, I ain't got time for this malarkey! Look, tonight's my turn, all right? Now make like some eggs and beat it! You're gonna ruin the flavor.
 * Owain: I will not be decieved by such deceits! What manner of madman would allow you a turn at cooking for the camp?
 * Brady: I'm a fine cook, all right! I learned from my dear ol' ma! So just... *sniff* G-get off my back!
 * Owain: Whoa...um, are you crying?
 * Brady: N-no! *sniff* ...And you're slipping out of character.
 * Owain: Brady, you are totally crying!
 * Brady: L-leave me alone! I was just cuttin' up taters, all right?!
 * Owain: Don't you mean onions? I don't think there's anything in potatoes that--
 * Brady: I JUST FELT BAD FOR 'EM, OKAY?! Now make like my pants and split!
 * Owain: Fine, fine. I'm going.

B Support

 * Owain: Alas, Brady! We meet again! ...Um, Brady?
 * Brady: What idiot left this helmet here?! Welp, too bad for them, 'cause I'm gonna punt it from here to kingdo--OOOW! Ffffffffffffffffffft!
 * Owain: Do ou hiss at me, sir? And what was that sound of a moment ago?! It was as the splintering of a mighty shield! The felling of a towering tree!
 * Brady: Hnnnnnnnngh...
 * Owain: zzzoh ho! I see you hunched and shivering! Do you tremble in my presence, sir?!
 * Brady: N-no, you...idiot...Just...go away...
 * Owain: Why do you reach for your foot? Grasping for a hidden dagger, perhaps? What are you doing, fiend?! I'll not be taken unawares! Give it here!
 * Brady: No no no no no --OOOOOOW! DON'T TOUCH THAT!
 * Owain: Okay, really. What's wrong?
 * Brady: You're...falling out of...character again... *sniff*
 * Owain: Wait, are you crying again?
 * Brady: *Sniff* N-no, of course not. You got rocks in your brain! I...I think I just broke my toe... *sniff* *sniffle* ALL RIGHT, I'M CRYIN'! I'M SENTIMENTAL, OKAY?!
 * Owain: Y'know, I don't think tearrs of pain count as being sentimental, Brady...
 * Brady: Just...go away...
 * Owain: All right, hold on. I'll go find you a healer.

A Support

 * Owain: Ho, Brady of the Moistened Eyes, what business have you here?!
 * Brady: *Sob* Sh-shut up! L-leave me... *Sniff* Just leamme alooone!
 * Owain: Man, are you crying already?! This is a new record.
 * Brady: I'm... *sob* I AIN'T CRYIN'! *sniff* *sniffle*
 * Owain: Actually no. You appear to be bwaling. What happened this time, old friend?
 * Brady: Whaddya mean "this time"?! Ya make it sound like it's an everyday thing!
 * Owain: At this point, it kind of is... And why are you here, anyway? Weren't you joining the others on their training run?
 * Brady: I did! I just couldn't keep up after the first ten minutes, all right?! Wanna make somethin' of it?! You and me gonna go round n' round?!
 * Owain: Ah, I see! That explains why you're such a sweaty mess. ...It doesn't explain the tears, though.
 * Brady: I told ya! I'm sentimental!
 * Owain: You're sentimental about being out of shape?!
 * Brady: Yes, all right?! Now mind yer beeswax and leave me alone!
 * Owain: Um, Brady? Do you even know what "sentimental" means?
 * Brady: Course I do! Whaddya think I am, some kinda limp noodle?
 * Owain: Yes, well, you see, it's just that... You keep using it wrong. Sentimentality is when someone gets emotional over memories or moving events.
 * Brady: So like... If I saw a litter of newborn kittens and couldn't stop cryin' for hours?
 * Owain: Exactly! That's being sentimental! ...And a little weird, if we're being completely hon--
 * Brady: I... *choke* Hnngh!
 * Owain: Mordecai's claws! Are you still out of breath from running? If you feel like you're going to be sick, just turn your head and--
 * Brady: *Sob* I'm fine! I just... When I pictured those tiny kitties lyin' there all blind and mewling... *hic*
 * Owain: Right... So basically you are sentimental. But you're also a huge crybaby, too.
 * Brady: D-don't tell the others about this! If you do, I'll take yer lunch money!
 * Owain: Heh, you put up a tough front, but you're just a huge softy inside. I don't think Brady of the Moistened Eyes is ready to joing the Justice Cabal. ...But still, I'm glad we're friends.
 * Brady: ...That mean you won't tell no one?
 * Owain: Heh. If it's that important to you, your secret's safe with me. Call me sentimental!

C Support

 * Owain: Ah ha! I've found you, Morgan!
 * Morgan: What? What's wrong? Has something happened?
 * Owain: Aye, the second I saw you, something happened! I knew you for my one and only rival!
 * Morgan: Beg your pardon?
 * Owain: My soul sensed your powerful aura, and all at once realized our cosmic incongruity!
 * Morgan: Wow, I...must not have noticed.
 * Owain: You are the only one who could ever stand as my equal in battle. Now...ANSWER MY CALL!
 * Morgan: I'm still not sure what you're talking about, but you sound absolutely convinced. And to be honest, I find myself...intrigued. Even though it makes no earthly sense. I can't see how any self-respecting warrior could turn away from such fiery passion.
 * Owain: Just so, my eternal ally-versary!
 * Morgan: Yes, it's so clear to me now. So obvious! Truly, we were fated to clash as rivals!
 * Owain: The gauntlet is thrown! Let our extremely protracted duel to the death begin! But let us not, in our haste for glory, forget to observe the one sacred rule of combat! ...When I'm shouting a move name, you have to wait for me to finish. I shall extend the same courtesy to you, as a fellow brother of the Justice Cabal.
 * Morgan: I agree to your terms, mortal foe! ...Though I doubt the enemies I've encountered would be quite so patient.
 * Owain: I fear the scum you've faced are beserkers, their honor lost to blood madness!
 * Morgan: I never knew...
 * Owain: Now, let us begin... Have at you, sir!
 * Morgan: Face me if you dare!

B Support

 * Owain: Come, my ordained ally-versary! Let our battle cries rend the very heavens above!
 * Morgan: May the song of our crossing blades echo unto eternity!
 * Owain: I shall be the first to strike! Radiant...DAAAAAAAAAAAAWN!
 * Morgan: Too slow! I parry with ease!
 * Owain: Y-you do?!
 * Morgan: Is that all you've got, fiend?!
 * Owain: Impossible! How could he have defeated my ultimate special move?!
 * Morgan: Ha ha! My turn! Flamingo...PUUUUUUUUUUUNCH!
 * Owain: I don't even need to dodge such a pathetic fireball. I deflect it back at you! KA-PWING!
 * Morgan: Waugh?!
 * Owain: Heh heh. Child's play.
 * Morgan: But...how?! How did he return my arcane magic?!
 * Owain: It seems we're at a stalemate, my rival. Till the next fated hour is tolled!
 * Morgan: I'll not let you off so easy next time! I swear it! I SWEEEEEEEEAR!
 * Owain: ......
 * Morgan: ......
 * Owain: Ah ha ha ha ha ha!
 * Morgan: Ha ha ha ha ha ha!
 * Owain: That. Was. AMAZING!
 * Morgan: Oh my gosh, right?! You were great, Owain!
 * Owain: Hardly! For being new to this, you nearly blew me away!
 * Morgan: Please, you're too modest. I'm nowhere near as good as you. I'm surprised how much fun it is to tthink this stuff up on the fly.
 * Owain: And it only gets better from here! So...sane time next week?
 * Morgan: Sure! I can't wait!

A Support

 * Owain: The bell tolls for thee, Morgan. The fated hour is upon us. I ready my true ultimate move...
 * Morgan: Actually, can you hold that thought for just a minute, Owain?
 * Owain: Craven! You would flee from this sacred duel?!
 * Morgan: No, no, I'm all set to go. I just thought I'd go invite some of the others, too.
 * Owain: The...others?
 * Morgan: Sure! Games like these are best in groups. The more the merrier, right?
 * Owain: ...A game? A GAME?! You dare insult the sacred affairs of the fated hour?! You dare compare our battle to the capering fools upon a gilded stage?!
 * Morgan: No! I have nothing but respect for it! It always picks me up on slow days.
 * Owain: That is so not the point, Morgan!
 * Morgan: It isn't? I don't understand.
 * Owain: Oh, forget it. Just...forget it. And besides, the others wouldn't come anyway. They all treat me like an idiot when I make up moves.
 * Morgan: I've certainly never heard anyone say anything.
 * Owain: Trust me. They think I'm just a big kid. That's whhy I chose you as my rival. You take me seriously!
 * Morgan: Owain, I'm sorry. I didn't mean any disrespect by it.
 * Owain: No, it's fine. I know I'm pathetic. Just forget I said anything, all right?
 * Morgan: I don't think so.
 * Owain: What? Why not?
 * Morgan: Because it make me happy to hear you speak from the heart. We may be eternal rivals, but we're friends first and last. You can tell me anything!
 * Owain: You... You mean that?
 * Morgan: Of course! If I can withstand your Nephenee's Lance attack, I think I can handle your feelings.
 * Owain: I still call no fair on that. I totally had you.
 * Morgan: Ha ha! You're dreaming. You've always been a dreamer, Owain. Everybody loves that about you. And they respect you for marching to the beat of your own drum.
 * Owain: I guess so.
 * Morgan: Well, I know so, friend. So have some confidence!
 * Owain: All right, I will! Thanks, Morgan. So, uh... Do you think we could still...
 * Morgan: The code of the Justice Cabal demands no less. Our rivalry is undying! Now help me come up with some new moves!
 * Owain: You got it!

C Support

 * Owain: There's something I need to know, Mother.
 * Lissa: And what's that?
 * Owain: The name of your weapon.
 * Lissa: My weapon? Why?
 * Owain: What manner of son would I be not to know the name which guards his mother?! Teach me so I may whisper its sobriquet in prayer and keep you ever safe.
 * Lissa: Oh, you meant THAT sort of name.
 * Owain: ...Hmm?
 * Lissa: That Holy Slayer, Saintly Dragon blah-blah kinda stuff you're always talking about. I was wondering if you really didn't know the word "staff"! Hee hee!
 * Owain: ...I'm pretty sure I should be offended by both of those statements. But yes, that sort of name! What is it?
 * Lissa: It doesn't have one.
 * Owain: You've granted it no name?!
 * Lissa: Right. I mean, why bother?
 * Owain: MOTHER! A name confers a soul unto an inanimate object and grants it power! It transforms a mere tool into a divine instrument possessed of limitless potential!
 * Lissa: See? There's the blah-blah stuff I was talking about... *Sigh* I'll give it some thought, all right? But right now I've got to be going. Bye!
 * Owain: W-wait, Mother. I'd braced for an insufficiently astonishing name, but this is worse than I'd feared! This may require drastic measures for her own good...

B Support

 * Owain: Ah, there you are!
 * Lissa: Were you looking for me, honey?
 * Owain: Here, have a look at these.
 * Lissa: Wowzers! This is quite a list! Okay, lemme see... "Gryphonsbane Edge." "Fell Ballista." "Staff of Deep Hurting." ...Owain, this list goes on for 20 pages!
 * Owain: Twenty-six. And if you don't find one you like, I can always whip up more.
 * Lissa: Choose them for what? What am I even looking at here?
 * Owain: Names! ...Er, for your armament.
 * Lissa: What? Don't you think these are a little overblown for a run-of-the-mill weapon?!
 * Owain: There's nothing run of the mill about it! At the point that it's YOU wielding it, a weapon deserves a name no less grand!
 * Lissa: Hmm, yeah, I think I'll pass. These just aren't me.
 * Owain: But without a name, your weapon will forever remain some mundane object! How can I rely on a mere tool to keep you safe in the heat of battle?
 * Lissa: AWWW!
 * Owain: Wh-what? What did I say?
 * Lissa: Oh, Owain, you sweet boy! Let Mama give you a hug!
 * Owain: Waugh! L-let go! You're choking me!
 * Lissa: Aww, I had it wrong this whole time. You were just worried about me, weren't you? That's my boy! You are just the sweetest son in the world! *smooch*
 * Owain: S-still... choking...
 * Lissa: All right, Owain, I'll do it! I'll think up a name!
 * Owain: But I've already come up with a whole list here...
 * Lissa: Whoops! I almost forgot that Chrom asked me to see him. You be good now, honey! And thanks again!
 * Owain: Mother, wait! Honestly, she never listens. It's like she's off in her own little world! Hard to believe we're related...

A Support

 * Lissa: Owain!
 * Owain: Yes, Mother?
 * Lissa: I've got it! I picked one!
 * Owain: One... what?
 * Lissa: A name! For my weapon!
 * Owain: Ah, right! Well, let's hear it! No doubt it joins your quiet grace with your fiery strength and iron resolve!
 * Lissa: Owain!
 * Owain: Yes?
 * Lissa: No, that's the name. ...Owain.
 * Owain: Mother, that's MY name.
 * Lissa: I know, silly! It's the name of that which I value most in the whole wide world! What better name could there be?
 * Owain: Yes, but won't that get a little... I don't know, confusing? I just don't think it's a good idea.
 * Lissa: Awww...
 * Owain: If you would draw out your weapon's full potential, its name needs more... oomph.
 * Lissa: I think Owain has PLENTY of oomph! It's got oomph up to HERE! It's... Wait a minute! Are you saying you don't like your name?!
 * Owain: No, no. I'm not saying that at all...
 * Lissa: *Sniff* F-fine, then! Just tear my heart out and stomp on it, why don't you? Imagine, a son rejecting the name his mom poured her heart and soul into choosing!
 * Owain: No, Mother, would you PLEASE just listen?
 * Lissa: Well, fine, then. Call yourself whatever you like. I'll get THIS Owain to protect me. THIS Owain will never turn on me. THIS Owain will never leave my side! Even if it snaps in half!
 * Owain: AUGH, STOP! Don't even TALK about a weapon named after me breaking! Look, I'll protect you, okay? I promise. Now just, PLEASE stop!
 * Lissa: You will?! Oh, that's so sweet, honey! C'mere, you!
 * Owain: Gah, just p-please stop... hugging too tight... C-can't... breathe...
 * Lissa: All right, well, if you insist, I'll stop trying to name my weapon, then. Tee hee. There's no need, now that I have you to protect me! Isn't that right, dear?
 * Owain: Why do I feel like I've just been had...?
 * Lissa: I would never dream of it, sweetheart. And I promise I'll be right there to rescue you when you're in trouble, too. We don't need fancy names or divine power, Son, we just need each other.