#galea :]

[ritoryb]

[sicahyart]

Game so Xenoblade coded I had to doodle some crossover stuff

[trunswicked]

“Must you look SO much like her???”

[annelise2660]

[arleo]

I come bearing gifts- rough and unrefined, but gifts nonetheless. Happy Birthday, Gregorian Calender, hope it's a good one for everybody ✌️

[mochipicchu776]

Happy 1 Year to Xenoblade Chronicles Future Redeemed!

The Klaus saga has ended, so let us celebrate the beginning and the end.

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

Continued from this

Author's Notes: gonna see where this Cloe story takes me

Content Warnings: winged whumpee, captivity, broken bones, recovery, reluctant caretaker, mentions of death, 'it' as a pronoun

----

This morning when Galea left home Cloe was still asleep. But when she returns midday he's finally awake, lying on his back and staring up at the high ceiling. When she enters he carefully sits up.

Galea shuts the door a little too hard and Cloe jumps. He holds his splinted arm protectively and keeps his head down.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Galea says, not to comfort him but because it's a fact. She hands up each of her weapons one by one and removes her outer layer.

"Am I yours now?" Cloe asks cautiously.

"Just for today."

"Then what?"

It should be easy to tell him, but Galea hesitates. In the silence Cloe draws his own conclusion.

"Then I go back to him?"

"Not exactly."

"Please tell me," Cloe pleads, eyes welling with tears. "Why am I here? Why bother patching me up if he's just going to hurt me again?"

Galea isn't sure herself. She makes a mental note to stop sitting at Omeron's table. It will save her a lot of future trouble.

"He plans to get rid of you," she says bluntly, seeing no point in sugarcoating it. "He gave you to me for the day to try out. That's all."

Suddenly Cloe is very pale and still.

"Get rid of me," he quietly says to himself. "How?"

"Come on, you don't really want to know."

"He's going to throw me off the mountain." It isn't a question.

Galea frowns. "How did you know that?"

Cloe pulls Galea's cloak tight around himself. He's shaking and staring blankly ahead.

"We find them sometimes, you know. The ones who get dropped. We find their bodies on the ground or caught on branches. They're so shattered and bloody sometimes we can't even tell who it is."

A chill runs through Galea at the mental image that conjures.

"I don't want my family to find me like that," Cloe continues softly. "If he's going to kill me, fine, but please...not like that. Anything else. Please."

"It's not up to me," Galea says.

But as she says it, she considers...maybe it could be up to her. She has no use for Cloe, but has no doubt Omeron would let her keep him if she asked. Maybe she could give him some dignity in death. Even the hawks and falcons her people keep as companions are given that, while the small-wings are discarded like spoiled meat.

Cloe is now fully enveloped in the cloak, hiding his face while he cries. Galea offers no comfort, but does set a jug of water and a plate of fruit and nuts out for him before she leaves.

-

"So," Omeron begins. Galea can hear the smirk in his voice before she even looks at him. "What do you think?"

"Nothing yet," she answers coolly, "it's too damaged to do anything."

Omeron scoffs. "If it can walk it can work."

"With one arm?"

"Yeah, who cares?" Omeron leans in, a wicked grin on his face. "Don't tell me you're getting soft, Gal - "

In an instant she has his head pinned to the table and one of his fingers in her hand, pulled back just far enough to hurt.

"Go ahead," she dares him, "say that again. You don't need this finger, right?"

She bends it further and Omeron yells.

"Okay, okay! Come on, I was joking! Let me go!"

Galea keeps him like that another moment. She bets he never gave in when Cloe begged. Picking on something so small and helpless...coward.

Finally she releases him. He sits quickly sits up and scoots away from her, shaking out his hand and laughing nervously.

"How about I let you keep it another few days?" he offers.

Galea doubts a few more days will make her decide to keep the small-wing. But she has already made up her mind that Cloe is never going back to Omeron. She tells herself this isn't sympathy, but spite towards the boastful warrior who gets his kicks torturing things weaker than him.

"Deal," she says, turning back to her dinner. Omeron wisely takes his meal elsewhere.

[bionicboxes]

Artfight 1/?

Attacks for olicent, coffinhorse, boxylocks, kangaa_roo, lasats-are-lovely, and rainydayy

[xenoblade-chronicles-brackets]

[theawezomeone]

Meyneth the soul of the Mechonis day 99

[vanillahina]

Some Doodle Comms !

[ritoryb]

if (and) only (if) we could cross the great expanse

(stole the composition from an utena screenshot)

[thedaily-beer]

Moersleutel + Galea Raisin Awareness for Dried Grapes Rye Wine (Picked up at de Bierkoning in Amsterdam). A 3 of 4. So, this is a bit weird, given the raisin qualities are quite prominent, but this really grows on me as it warms a bit (and the 12% takes effect). There’s a nice amount of spiciness from the rye and moderate hop bitterness in the body to help cut the relatively aggressive sweetness from the raisins up front.

[deus-and-the-machina]

Happy xenoblade anniversary! I was Galea at a con today so here

[gh0stfactory]

Who's up for some OC art??

[alvis1218]

Galea is rightly scarred