#;Reyson 01

[serenegaldr]

What started as days bled into weeks and months, like the slow unfurling of a new leaf on the green branches in the forest. It sways gently in the wind, maturing, yellowing, falling. Being replaced by another fresh leaf.

A year is a drop in the stream for the long lifespan of a Laguz, and even Leanne, an infant before the Serenes Massacre, had watched countless leaves grow and fall. Still, when each and every single one of their family and friends who had gone to Fódlan had gone the full year without a single instance of correspondence, Leanne decides it's time.

There's a giddy excitement in setting off on her own, in boarding the ship to the distant continent without Nealuchi or a Hawk by her side, but she is insistent upon it despite the worried protest of more than a few. She would be safe, she's sure of it! After all, she's headed to where Reyson and Tibarn and Naesala and so many of their friends are. There would be nothing for her to fear at all.

It isn't very long after disembarking from the ship, and being accepted into the halls of Garreg Mach itself, that she spies a hint of white feathers in the hallway ahead. Leanne picks up her pace, flitting forward on pattering steps until she is by her brother's side.

"Reyson, there you are!" Leanne steps deftly in front of him, wings fluffing in involuntary excitement at her quick success. A cursory look reveals that he seems more or less fine — no injuries to show, and he doesn't look haggard or ill either — as she expected, so Leanne takes a step back, crossing her arms in an attempt to look stern.

"Why haven't you sent us any letters for a year? I had to come all the way here by myself to find you!" She punctuates her question with a pout, though she can't quite keep the corners of her lips from turning up at the sight of her brother after all this time.

@reprisalet

a year is three hundred and sixty-five moments

[laguz]

tagged by: @rabyuu !

i tag: @01 @d3nji @neige-leblanche @see @hootiee @alfea tumblr wont let me tag more without being silly so if you see this you can say tagged you!!

rules: list your favorite characters from four different pieces of media and let everyone vote on who matches your vibe best

[foeto-blog]

@coraccipitris​ // starter call

The image of pure white right before his eyes was one that easily had Gundam on guard - wings that protruding from this other individual’s back even more reason for the tension in his body. Perhaps they were kindred spirits, perhaps they were foes -- the only thing certain was that individuals with a similar physical appearance as the other were not common where he was from. Though his classmates appearances were varied, none of them really matched up to this. His words might be harsh, but there was a decidedly excited undertone to his voice as he spoke, chest puffed up in confrontation. 

“Halt where you stand, winged spirit! Though you may carry the color of purity, it will most certainly be stained with the color of my malevolent miasma if you chance another step closer! I shall lower my barrier only with the sacrifice of your true name to these cursed ears!” 

[baldramuste]

@albaccelerando​   ( moved from here )

he stares at reyson worriedly until he responds, at which point his shoulders relax. "good. don't rely too much on my handiwork though, you really should go see a proper healer later.“ he gets up from his spot on the ground, briefly wiping his knee off with his hand.

"yes. i've heard some things about you." he nods. there were a surprising amount of people who hadn't seen a heron before (including himself) so he'd heard whispers by the occasional staff member and even student. some talking about how beautiful he was, and some not as... nice. those were the ones he preferred not to think about. "reyson, right?" then, he offers a smile and his hand to shake. "i am sir sigurd of chalphy." he defaults to the polite noble greeting out of habit. "it's nice to meet you, even if this situation isn't exactly ideal."

[kingstalons]

❝ Has he really? ❞

There's some incredulity in Tibarn's voice. Naesala doesn't have the best track record in actually keeping Reyson safe, of course...but Tibarn suspects that maybe he's being uncharitable. If he can't let Naesala attempt to grow then the raven could stagnate forever and always.

Tibarn huffs though, eyes on Reyson.

❝ You're always too soft on him, you know. Would it be too much if I said it makes me jealous? Not that you love him but that you've known him for as long as you have. ❞

He can confess these things, to Reyson. Even if they're stupid. He knows there's a foolishness in them but he worries about him always. The pancake sizzles in the pan and he flips it over with a flick of the wrist. It soars up into the air and he catches it before it can land anywhere but inside the pan.

𝙛𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙮

[throughdifferenteyes-blog2]

@coraccipitris

Whoah.

It’s a good thing Fiyero’s mouth doesn’t open anymore, or it’d be hanging open at the sight of the - being? - across the way. As it is, he nearly falls over again from surprise, and it’s not just the wings that are doing it.

In another life he’d have been tempted to flirt, but honestly, even without current circumstances, someone who looks like that would have been out of even his formerly high weight class back in the day. Oh, Glinda had been pretty, but this man looks ethereal. The wings only add to the effect, and it’s fascinating to watch them move subtly as he walks.

Does this place collect the strange and magical? Is that why Fiyero was yanked here? But it feels like a crime to lump the two of them in together. If the wings aren’t - natural, somehow - they certainly seem like they were designed perfectly to suit him, and there’s no hint of discomfort or unfamiliar awkwardness. It’s such a contrast to the batlike wings of the Wizard’s flying monkeys - oh, they’d gotten better with time, but with all of Elphaba’s power it had been clear those appendages weren’t something they’d been born with.

Shit. The man is turning his head - has he been caught staring? Instinct leads to Fiyero ducking his head to avoid his gaze, and it’s too late to correct once he remembers that just standing stock-still would probably have been a better cover. Oops.

[execlinca]

@coraccipitris

She doesn’t know what happened to her when she arrived here, but she knows her body is different. Strange, uncomfortable -- but not in a dangerous way, only one where she feels her way of existence has been altered.

So when she sees a man -- an angel? a god? -- cradling an injured bird, she isn’t so sure she can help. But she thinks she can try.

“Excuse me... can you... let me see?” EXEC_HYMME_LIFE=W:R:S/. She clasps her hands together, trying to focus, trying to find the point of connection to the servers. EXEC_... HYMME_... it doesn’t get any further than her attempt to execute the extraction, something she should have expected, considering her distance from the Tower. Yet to give up here, after suggesting she might be able to help -- how humiliated, how useless, she would be.

She swallows. “Um... please let me -- try again.” A little winded, she focuses on her centre, steadying her breathing before starting a new chant. A simpler one, a smaller execution, a woven repetition of hymmnos. As she sings gently, a small fairy materialises above her, the strums of its lyre sending white light down below, kissing the bird’s body like snow.

Was it working? She wasn’t about to stop to make sure, while something appeared to be growing close enough. While she had something in her reach, she would sing.

She would keep on singing.

[fe-dame]

And so I realised I own Laguz alts

[kingstalons]

Tibarn isn't the least bit surprised to hear Naesala had tried to run away. It's all he knows, isn't it? It makes him grit his teeth to see the way Reyson frets and worries. That doesn't matter though, what matters is that Naesala is okay. His bone can be fixed but his heart is likely another story. Tibarn shouldn't interfere with that one...should he?

He doesn't know if he wants to. But the trust between him and Naesala is not something he'd ever deny. To hurt him now would be a sin unforgivable. So he keeps the barbs on his tongue back and doesn't scold him for making Reyson worry for the month he was gone. Doesn't tell him off. Doesn't bring up any of that shit at all.

Naesala's account of the place he went sounds harrowing enough. He doesn't know what any of it means though. It's enough knowing that between the words Naesala says are more that he isn't saying. He can only infer what they mean. Reyson gets up to fetch the supplies he will need and Tibarn nods curtly.

A hand comes to rest between Naesala's wings. He is careful not to put any pressure on the bad one, or the good one for that matter. The palm of his hand presses against Naesala's spine though as if Tibarn is confirming whether or not he is real.

❝ Go. I've got him. You can trust me. ❞

@corvuschriisti

𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩.

[POST EVENT] - Reunion.

[serenegaldr]

@heronprinceofserenes (continued from here!)

The ancient language felt gentle in his mouth as he responded. “I’m glad nothing’s gone wrong at home...” he responded, fluffing his wings as the tension released from his body. “But why didn’t you just come with me? Surely the journey was dangerous.” He tilted his head, letting the concern return. “Did Tibarn come with you? Or Rafiel?” He tried his best not to sound hopeful. After a beat, he remembered the questions he still had to answer.

“I haven’t really been here long enough to make friends yet, Leanne. I did talk to Queen Elincia, Pelleas, and Soren, though we know them already. I wouldn’t call it fun, but I imagine things will get more interesting over time.” He met her eyes, and she could see her curiosity reflected back at her. Anyone else would have called his expression blank, but Leanne could almost taste the relief he felt that their family was safe.

Leanne giggled. Everyone around her always worried so much! She was glad, at least, that her words could still put her brother at ease. “The gate that appeared to take me here came really, really close to the mountain, so I didn’t have to fly very far! Janaff even stuck his head through to check for me that it wasn’t dangerous at all before letting me come. He told me to send you his greetings, and to tell you to be careful!” Technically, the plea for carefulness went for both of them, but Leanne thought she was usually quite good at taking care of herself, as long as people weren’t trying to kidnap her.

She perked up at the mention of familiar names. “Ooh, I can’t wait to meet them again! Especially Queen Elincia...” Leanne’s smile turned a little wistful, “It’s wonderful to be back in the Forest with Father, of course, but it’s harder to see our friends from different places. And Rafiel is getting ready to return to Hatari with the Wolf Queen, so he won’t be around as much anymore either...” Perhaps coming here was a good opportunity, to be able to meet some of their old friends before distance - and eventually, time - started slowly laying the bonds between them and the short-lived Beorc to rest.

[godsoft]

❝ i’ve been on at least twelve flights in my life. i’m pretty much an expert. ❞

“… Have you been on a train, though?”

“I remember those being nice.”

His voice is low, quiet, perhaps betraying the reverie he was stuck in. It seems as though he’s able to recall more of his time as a human or a being of good more readily now. Here, at least. 

Back home, when the world was dark, there was nothing else but thinking of his need to free himself. To free his friends.

[hiraetx-blog]

@herodiusregulus | starter Call

   Long, black lashes flutter against the seemingly permanent dark circles beneath his eyes before he pries back heavy, unwilling eyelids to the familiar scenery of his study. With the sun seeping in through the drawn curtains highlighting the scattered documents and discarded proposals, he was promptly remained of the backlog of work he needed to attend to before it collected too much dust. But a groan was already lingering on the tip of his tongue at the thought, and it took what little energy his sleep-kissed and bogged down mind had left to will his head up from where he had fallen asleep upon his equally horrific desk.

    Wrinkling his nose to swallow a yawn, he tore his stiff fingers from the pen they had been wrapped about in order to ease their tips along the nasty kink in his curled neck before combing them through his disheveled hair. It’s only when he sluggishly drops his palms that he spots the specs of smeared ink marring his skin, and feels the damp weight of it upon his cheek. Lips curling into a frown, he chances a glance downward to the wad of paper he had passed out on only to wince at the deep creases, and splotchy, splattered stains of ink that made the form completely illegible. This time, the groan he had held back earlier fell from his lips with unbridled frustration that was roughly as graceful as his own tousled, disjointed appearance.

     He didn’t hate shifting through paperwork, or going over documents a thousand times to ensure he hadn’t missed anything; he by no means viewed this mundane process as unnecessary or even bothersome, but a good month without a proper night’s sleep could lull anyone into a fitful slumber upon an aged, rickety desk that had most certainly seen far better days. But the world was a frantic place, even in a time of peace, and attempting to force a young, jumbled nation to keep up with it was a difficult task; Alvah was too stubborn to admit he couldn’t replace Tibarn, or that he was holding himself to too high a standard too early in his reign.

      Shoving the pile of ruined documents onto the floor about his feet, he was just about to haul up the thick stack nestled against his chair when a loud knock at the door reverberated through the small room. Pursing his lips to bite back any ill-intended words that might creep up from his throat, he manages to croak out a harsh “What?” before he digs his voice out from the depths of his sore lungs (if he was going to fall asleep in his study more often than his own bed he should seriously consider investing in a better desk).   

     There is a soft squeak from the other side of the door before the guard looming about manages to regain his confidence long enough to force out, ‘Your Majesty, you have a visitor.’ And Alvah all but hisses into the overly bright light of the room, as he snaps back, “A what?” When the guard bothers to repeat himself, he becomes well aware that whoever this person is they’re probably important enough for one of his men to bother pursuing the subject after that. “Send them away, I have no time to entertain some useless guest.”

      There is a long moment of silent before the guard gathers up his courage once again, ‘Sir, I’m afraid I can’t. You see the person is, well, it’s your mother’s brother.’ And he knows the guard is trying to smother his anger by not specifying which one, but that only makes it more obvious. “Tell him I don’t care if he personally kicks this door down, I have no intention of speaking with him. If he has business with me tell him to file a report with you, and I will address his concerns when I able.”   

     He doesn’t, personally, have anything against the other man, but he’s refused counsel from Leanne’s family since Lilit’s death, and has, in general, avoided Herons almost entirely since then as well (Leanne herself has been subject to this rule as well). But the desperate pleas from the guard still lingering outside of his room inform him that no might not actually be an option.

[ulircursed]

“R-right,” Andrei says, embarrassed, “Of course newborns cannot speak. That was a foolish question.” Still, Reyson seems capable of understanding the bird’s needs regardless. Is it because of his experience with similar needs, or is this — something much closer to telepathy than speech — what Naesala meant by being able to communicate with birds? 

Warmth, though… He reaches down towards the infant with a hesitant hand, the Heal spell enveloping his palm with the familiar white glow. Would the touch be welcome at all, or would it be too much for Cranberry now that it (he, Reyson said) is no longer an egg?

But the moment his hand approaches, Cranberry’s cries quiet for a moment, and it seeks out the source of warmth, its tiny head nudging against his palm. For the first time, Andrei’s hand touches the soft, damp feathers of his newborn bird, sending a jolt up his spine. He nearly pulls away from the shock, but manages to keep his hand in place, suppressing the trembling, as Cranberry settles in comfortably. So, so carefully, his thumb ghosts over the top of the hatchling’s head in an uncertain, affectionate gesture.

“What kind of food would I need to prepare for him?” he asks in a whisper, not taking his eyes off the baby bird for a moment.

two and a half birds

[baldramuste]

[+ fix] (sigurd treating reyson's injury)

"and... there." sigurd finishes off the bandage, tying it with a knot. he's not the best at it, but it'll work enough to let reyson avoid the pharmacy for a good few hours at least. it's moments like these that he wished he could heal like his sister, but at least he knew how to dress a wound well enough. kneeled down on the ground to help him work on the wound easier, sigurd looks up at reyson. 'even when they're injured, heron look so beautiful.' he thinks, but he quickly stashes that thought away in his brain. "it's not too tight, is it?"

[serenegaldr]

“Leanne?” The call is soft, unbelieving, but familiar. Her name echoes down the hallway, leading her eyes back to the source - her brother, staring at her like she's a ghost. He crosses the hall, his wings trailing behind him, concern written on his face. “What are you doing here? Did something happen at home?” He scans her for injuries, like he’s done hundreds of times. “Is it Rafiel? Or something in Phoenicis?”His wings flutter against his back, he's nervous, even if he's trying not to show it

"Brother!" Leanne closed the remaining distance between the two, an excited note in her voice and in the quiver of her own wings, though she hastened to place a reassuring hand on her brother's arm as she sensed the other's distress.

"Please don't worry, all of us are just fine! I wanted to come here too, and Father said he was feeling well enough to take care of the forest for at least a little while! Well, Tibarn also said it would be good to practice my Modern Tongue here, where there are many Beorc from different places," she said with a determined expression, "I promised him that I'll practice hard!"

The younger Heron's determination melted into a small grin as she smoothed her hand down her brother's sleeve, more an affectionate gesture than anything needing to be fixed. "What about you, brother? Has it been fun, being here? Have you met any friends?" she asked, blinking up at Reyson with open curiosity.

[ulirblood]

“be careful. don’t overextend yourself.” she warns, watching him stand up to inspect the lock on their prison cage. she does not say anything while he inspects it, allowing him the silence to concentrate.

it is only when he speaks back to her again that she approaches him, standing far closer than before. “a tool, hm.” she hums, looking at the lock herself. if they hadn’t stolen all her belongings, she probably could of used one of the pins she used for her hair to pick it. or maybe they might not have gotten everything on her person…?

she digs through the smaller pocket on her dress, the only place it would be, only to find nothing. they had really taken everything. what barbarians. “if they hadn’t stolen our things…. we have no choice.” she shakes her head in frustration, looking back to reyson. “we’re going to have to catch someone’s attention. they have to have a guard who patrols consistently. “ she crosses her arms, hand on her chin in thought. “if they’re keeping us in a cage like this, they probably want us alive. we might be able to get someone to unlock the door if one of us fakes an illness or an injury.”

reyson wake up we fucked up big time!