#reylia

[c0nn0r-c0nn0r13]

I love them

[craftycollectorpizzame]

[ronalda]

Challenge : What is the meaning of title I was going for? ����❤

[videcoeur]

Reylia’s bio is up!

Art by @/vaxpav 

[dndorkdoggo]

Organized Chaos

Minerva is sent to speak to Reylius. It goes better than expected.

Reylius/Minerva (1884 words)

~~~

Minerva is going to murder someone, and at this point, she does not care who.

The loud music, the flashing lights, and the drunk screaming people make her head hurt, but she is on a mission and she’ll be damned if she lets something as minor as a nightclub stand in her way.

“Minnie? That you?” A voice shouts over the loud music and the woman turns to see a familiar armored man weaving through the crowd, approaching her quickly.

“It’s Minerva, Captain Minerva to you,” she growls at him once he gets close.

“Potato, potato,” he dismisses, waving his hand before his voice takes a manic lilt. “What can I do you for? Finally realize that Chaos is superior?”

She glowers at him. “Of course not, you imbecile.”

“Merow,” Reylius teases, swiping his hand like a cat with its claws out.

“I’m here because the council has decided that Order and Chaos must work together on the latest development to ensure the least number of causalities, despite my numerous complaints that our factions do not play well together,” she explains bluntly.

“‘Latest Developments’ huh?” Reylius parrots. “And what would those be?”

She makes a pinched expression. “I would rather not discuss it in the middle of a Chaos nightclub.”

“Easy, Minnie-”

“Minvera,” she growls.

“-No one can hear you, the music’s too damn loud,” Reylius dismisses easily, not acknowledging the correction.

“Fine, but if word gets out about this, it will be your job to silence them,” the Captain states, leaving no room for argument.

“Fine by me,” Reylius sing-songs. “Now, what’s the issue?”

“Recent surveys of the rift to insure its stability have revealed something incredibly concerning. Residing under Riftreach is a colony of Mind Flayers. We believe they are responsible for the increases in disappearances from the lower levels.”

Reylius goes still. “What?”

“Mind Flayers. Under Riftreach. Kidnapping people,” she restates bluntly, practically growling out each word.

“Shit,” he murmurs, glancing around. “Do you want to talk it over in my office?”

Minerva takes a deep, steadying breath. “That would be helpful, yes,” she says with as neutral of an expression as she can manage.

Reylius nods and begins to move through the crowd, greeting some people as he passes.

“Rey! My man!” A drunkard says clapping the Chaos leader on the shoulder. “Got yourself a new girl I see!”

“I’m not-” Minerva begins to correct only for Reylius to talk over her.

“You know me, man! Got ‘em comin’ in droves!” he jokes, elbowing the guy before grabbing the Captain’s arm and pulling her along. Once they are away from him, Reylius mutters, “Sorry, I don’t normally do business during party hours, I had to lie before he got suspicious.”

Minerva sighs, deciding that he is probably telling her the truth. She has several questions, but she decides to first ask, “Party hours?”

Reylius nods. “Order’s sleeping hours are Chaos’ party hours,” he explains easily as he stops in front of a door and gestures her inside.

The room is suitably chaotic for the leader of the Chaos Faction. Papers are strewn everywhere, books are open or floating in random places and there is not a single space that does not have something on it. Despite the mess, it is far quieter once the door closes, so Minerva can manage this.

“Does Chaos never sleep then?” she asks as she walks to a desk and glances at the papers. At first, she believes them to be coded, but she quickly realizes that the handwriting is simply illegible.

“Sleep is for the weak,” Reylius dismisses as he sits in his chair, kicking his feet up onto the desk. “People sleep when they want, where they want, and with who they want.” He sends the Captain a wink which is received with a glare.

“This is precisely why Order is better,” Minerva says, crossing her arms across her chest.

Reylius mimics her movements. “I’d argue it's why Chaos is better.”

Her eye twitches but she takes a deep breath. “We are not here to argue about which side holds more power-”

“Because you know you’d lose,” the genasi says coyly.

“-We are here to discuss the best way to allocate our collective resources to dispose of the Mind Flayers that are under Riftreach,” she continues, not rising to his bait.

He tsks, removing his helmet, white hair pouring from it and cascading down his shoulders, and putting it down on top of several papers before sitting up. “Yeah, I guess.”

“The council has suggested that we combine our best fighters, debrief them on the situation, and send them in, us clearly in the lead,” Minerva explains as Reylius fiddles with his hair.

The Air Genasi laughs. “Are they fucking stupid?”

The captain raises an eyebrow at him, waiting on him to elaborate.

“They want the best of Chaos and Order to work together?” he reiterates. “I hate to break it to you, Minnie, but if they suggested that, and can’t see the flaw in it, then I think the Mind Flayers already got to them.”

Minerva sighs. “That was the exact reason I protested. I tried to explain to them that our forces have a long history of disagreeing, but they argued that the only way to drive out a full colony of Mind Flayers is with the full force of Symmetris, consequences be damned.”

“Do they not know that we will try to kill each other?” Reylius asks, leaning forward to put his elbows on his desk.

“They are too mentally deficient to understand that, yes,” Minerva says tightly.

Reylius barks out a laugh. “I guess that's Minerva for ‘the stupidest dumbassses you ever had the misfortune of talking to won’t listen to you when you tell them they are sending us on a suicide mission and not just because of the damn Mind Flayers?”

She smiles a little against her will. “Precisely.”

“God this is gonna be a damn trainwreck,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, what’s the plan?”

“The plan?” Minerva asks.

Reylius shrugs. “I don’t think you woulda came here if you didn’t have an idea of what we are gonna do down there.”

“As of right now, there is no plan. The council wants us both present before any plans are made,” she answers dismissively.

He huffs. “Yeah, okay.” He waves his hand as if dismissing the thought. “The council is being the council.” He leans forward. “What’s your plan?”

Minerva preens under the comment. “While I would like to say it wouldn’t involve the help of any Chaos Symmetris, that would not be true. We would send in a scouting legion of mostly neutral soldiers, and, using their reports we divide, the cavern into equal sections so our soldiers aren’t forced to fight with each other. Obviously, we will stay in the lead and keep them from murdering one another anyway.”

Reylius smiles at her. “See, that’s why you should be on the council and not those old coots who haven’t worked with the factions in centuries,” he says with a nod. “You would get so much shit done while walking them like dogs.”

“While the flattery is nice, I assure you that it is unnecessary,” she says quickly, fighting to keep a blush from creeping inexplicably across her dark skin.

Reylius instantly picks up on her shift. He perks up and adopts a teasing smile. “What? Don’t like genuine compliments and not just someone jockeying for good favor from you?” He rests his chin on his hand as he looks at her.

She glares at him. “What’s your game, Reylius?”

The air genasi shrugs, still looking at her with that irritatingly fond expression. “I have the leader of one of the most powerful organizations standing in my office, might as well shoot my shot,” he says with a grin.

“Shoot your shot?” she echoes, arching an unamused eyebrow.

“Yeah, ya know, proposing something like ‘how about after we defeat the Mind Flayers and prove the council right by watching our troops try to kill each other, we go and get a cup of coffee’ to the beautiful woman who’s looking at me like if she stares hard enough, I’ll catch on fire,” he explains to her.

For a reason unfathomable to her, she nods slowly with a sly grin and softening gaze. “And this beautiful woman,” she begins slowly, talking about herself in the third person an odd feeling. “Aren’t you supposed to hate her? You lead the opposite organization.”

“Oh, for sure. I’ll be surprised if she says ‘yes,’ but every shot not taken is a shot missed,” he says with a nod. “Do you think she’ll say ‘yes’?”

Minerva studies him for a moment, calculating and considering as she does. He seems to be genuine, and even though it should be an easy no, something in her wants to say yes. “How about you ask after we defeat these Mind Flayers,” she settles on eventually.

“That sounds like a ‘yes’ to me,” Reylius says smugly.

“Correction, it's not a ‘no’,” she reiterates with a surprisingly fond shake of the head.

He hums as he stands up, walking around the desk, not pushing into her personal space, but standing closer than they were standing before. “How can I make that ‘maybe’ into a ‘yes’?” he asks.

She considers him for a moment before saying, “Tuesday, arrive at 8 o’clock sharp, dressed in a nice suit -any dark color will do, within reason of course- leave all weapons at home, oh, and flowers -white roses or lilies if you can find them- would be a nice touch.”

“And if I do that? What will you do?” he asks, taking a half step closer to her.

“I’ll wear a nice black and green dress, with my make-up done, I’ll make reservations at the nicest restaurant in Riftreach and get us the best seats,” she answers, stepping slightly closer to him.

Reylius grins and moves forward until their chest plates touch. “Sounds orderly,” he teases.

“As all things should be.” Minerva has no clue why she is playing his game and why she hasn’t left yet.

“You have yourself a date,” Reylius says before tacking on, “On one condition.”

Minerva raises an eyebrow at him. “And what would that be?”

“I’ll be on my best behavior, a good little order boy, only if for our next date you let loose and come party Chaos style,” he proposes.

The Captain studies him for a long moment before a small grin crosses her lips. “Deal.”

Reylius makes a surprised face. “Really?!” he asks, his excitement similar to a puppy’s.

“Yes, but first, the Mind Flayers,” Minerva reminds.

“Yeah, yeah, Mind Flayers,” he dismisses, grinning like a madman.

“Yes, Mind Flayers.” She watches him for a moment. “I need to return to the office,” she says, taking a half step back.

Reylius pouts. “Already?”

“Yes, I have to make reservations now alongside plans of Mind Flayer removal,” she explains. And then Minerva does the first chaotic thing she has done in a long time. She dips forward and kisses him before backing off, looking in amusement as his jaw drops. “See you then.”

“Yep, uh huh, see- see you then,” he sputters out with a lopsided smile.

[scrumptiousdefendorcomputer]

Mask

Glamour shot of samurai, the Cyberpunk samurai, surrounded by city neon lighting, realistic, realistic, morbid, dark, very detailed, rendered in octane, wet, densely atmospheric, epic, dramatic, empty, creepy, trail cam footage, photorealistic, hyper ornate details, photographed by Irakli Nadar and Reylia Slaby, bokeh, particles, ultra detail

[midjourney-artists-v6]

Artist: Reylia Slaby

Illustration

Painting

Digital/Photorealistic

[menofai]

shirtless, bodybuilder, [art by Jo Ann Callis| (art by Reylia Slaby:0.8) ], anime key visual, Personal Yuan Dynasty Callum sitting in a Fiery chair, Brunette hair, Flat Shag hairstyle, fauna with Foliage, horizon-centered, Sketched, Frightening, Fish-eye Lens, Amaro, Negative prompt: JuggernautNegative-neg Steps: 25, Sampler: DPM++ SDE Karras, CFG scale: 7, Seed: 3226562642, Size: 512x512, Model hash: e9d3cedc4b, Model: realisticVisionV40_v40VAE, Denoising strength: 0.7, Hires upscale: 2, Hires upscaler: 4x-UltraSharp, Lora hashes: "bettermalebody_bf16_batch1_v1.0: 9e859b29e2c8", Version: v1.4.1

[brewdarrymore]

“Reyna had always thought of Jason Grace as the all-American boy. Thalia looked more like the girl who robbed all-American boys at knifepoint in an alley.”

- The Blood of Olympus, Rick Riordan

A moodboard for theyna (reylia?) from heroes of olympus

[taishou-kun]

Reylia Slaby

Ame Onna 雨女 - Tales from Japan series - 2013

[uesp]

Did You Know: Jarl Elgryr the Unminded was a cruel ruler of Windhelm during the Second Era? Elgryr allowed various experiments to be performed on the population, with the apparent goal of controlling the thoughts of the people of Windhelm. The Windhelm Letters document the descent of the city to towards open rebellion, beginning with Elgryr implementing harsh taxes while openly enjoying an opulent lifestyle, seemingly followed by the confiscation of anything of value that entered the city, the slow starvation of the city, and ending with the storming of the Palace of the Kings.

[reyliaslaby]

Beautiful day with Colleen. http://www.reyliaslaby.com

http://www.instagram.com/reylia.slaby

[floraexpress]

Reylia Slaby

[angelinilorca]

Ame-Onna (雨 女) «Femme de pluie» de Reylia Slaby

[dndorkdoggo]

Young Again

Reylias becomes a child and some realizations happen

Callisto/Prohis (1626 words)

**

Magic ripples through him as Reylias lets out a screech. The chunks of mutated armor collapse around him, crumpling to the floor.��

“Uh,” Glib says, taking a half step back. “Do- do you guys think he’s dead?”

“Well, I’d sure hope so!” Goodbid laughs. “That’d fix a lot of our problems.”

“And that was a high-powered spell slot,” S.G. grumbles to which Prophis nods sympathetically.

Suddenly the armor starts shifting, causing everyone to jump as Goodbid yelps, “Nope, he’s alive!”

Glib readies an eldritch blast and Callisto gets ready to fire off something powerful, but they stop when the gloves raise up limply, like the hands inside them aren’t the right size, and starts pulling and pushing at the helmet. You could hear a pen drop as everyone waits with bated breath. When a distressed whine comes from the helmet, everyone is jolted back into reality. 

“Dad?” a tiny, scared voice calls from inside the helmet. “Daddy? Are you there?” he says a little louder before adding quieter, “I’m scared” in a wobbly voice.

Prophis lunges forward, dropping to his knees, and begins to rip the slimy black armor off the now tiny Reylias. The child stands there, probably no older than 6 or 7, with teary blue eyes. He is about four feet tall with short-cropped white hair and pale blue skin. 

Upon seeing Prophis knelt in front of him, the child launches himself forward and wraps his arms tightly around the elf’s neck. “Pa!” he yells, surprised and happy. “You’re back!”

“Reylian?” Callisto whispers, eyes wide.

Little Reylian looks up with a big dopey grin on his face. “Daddy, look! I found Pa!”

Callisto looks between Prophis, who has small tears streaking his cheeks with a large grin spread across his face, and back to Reylias. “You sure did, my boy,” Callisto says with a small smile, which looks entirely out of place on his face. The wizard crosses the room and kneels down next to his boyfriend and his assumed child, bringing both of them into a tight hug. 

There is a moment of silence, broken by S.G. exclaiming, “I was right! They are your dads!”

Callisto turns to glare at them, but the hard expression on his face melts instantly when a tiny hand tugs on his cloak.

“Daddy? Who are they?” Reylias asks quietly, hiding between his fathers.

“They are-”

“Friends of ours,” Prophis finishes for him, sending him a challenging look. “Isn’t that right, Callisto?”

Callisto visibly swallows a scoff before saying, “yes, friends.”

Reylian looks between them before tentatively stepping out from between them and walking over to the team, who had been watching in silence varying for the reasons of pure shock (Glib), disbelief (S.G.), and confusion (Goodbid). The child looks up at them and back down at Glib before saying with the confidence only a child can have, “Hi! I’m Reylian, but everyone calls me Reys!” 

Glib sticks out his hand. “Glib, nice to meet ya, kid,” the frog says in that almost soft tone that he reserves exclusively for children. Reylian accepts the hand and makes a grossed-out face at the sliminess of it. “Oh yeah, probably should’ve warned you about that.”

“Heya there, Reys!” Goodbid says in an over-the-top manner, dropping down into a crouch. “I’m Mista Goodbid because I always be doing good biddness, don’t cha forget it!” He tips his bottom hat to the kid before sticking out his hand for a handshake. Reylian laughs and slots his tiny hand into Goodbid’s, who shakes it vigorously. 

Reylian giggles as he turns to S.G. “What’s your name?”

S.G. is silent for a moment before saying, “I’m S.G. and this-” they hold out a hand and a tiny bit of bright green moss crawls out of their armor and manifests into a tiny dog-like creature in their palm. “-is Kermit.”

The child squeals with joy before excitedly asking, “can I touch it?! Can I touch it?!”

If S.G. had any facial features, they would be smiling as they say, “of course, you can.” Reylian happily starts petting the moss monster, who preens under the attention. 

“S.G. how long does this spell last?” Prophis asks gently as he comes up behind his son.

S.G. thinks for a moment before saying, “an hour unless we can find a way to make it permanent.” 

Prophis and Callisto share a pained look before Callisto shakes his head and Prophis nods. 

“It wouldn’t be fair, I know it,” the elf says quietly. He picks up his son and holds him close to his chest. “I know that better than anyone,” Prophis says with a wet laugh.

“But an hour is better than nothing,” Callisto says kindly. He runs his fingers through Reylian’s white hair. Said child looks up at them confused. “Why are you guys sad?”

“Not sad, Reys, we’re just so happy to have you back,” Callisto says, kissing Reylian’s cheek. 

“But I never left?” the kid says, tilting his head to the side.

The parents share a sad look. “We know, my love, we know,” Prophis says. 

The next hour is spent playing and cuddling. The party of morally gray heroes watches in pure confusion as Callisto becomes a pushover, letting his son have anything he wants, and Prophis goes into complete Mom Mode. 

“Five minutes before the spell breaks,” S.G. warns as Reylian happily retells his parents about his day for the tenth time. 

“Five minutes?” the kid questions.

“Don’t worry about it,” Prophis soothes. “Just finish your story.” 

Everyone waits as the clock ticks down, Reylian babbling away, none the wiser.

“There it goes,” S.G. mumbles as they feel their concentration break. 

Reylian starts to morph and shift and his eyes go wide with alarm. 

“Pa? Dad? What’s happening?” Reys asks as he pulls and scratches at his skin. A pained scream bubbles up from his chest.

“It’s okay, my dear, it’s okay!” Prophis drops to his knees in front of the child, wiping away the alligator tears as they fall down the child’s face.

“It hurts,” the child sobs before screaming again as there are audible cracks and tears as the child grows back into the God of Monsters. 

“I know, I know,” Prophis says, tears streaking down his own face. “You’re doing so good.”

Callisto places a hand on his son and begins chanting a spell, easing the pain of the transformation. He still cries and screams as his skin bubbles and hardens, and a pair of grotesque wings rip out from his back. The chunks of armor in the corner of the room dissipates into dust as it reforms on his skin. 

It takes nearly a full minute of pained cries and awful sounds before the transformation stops. It ends with Reylias panting heavily on his knees.

“Reys?” Prophis asks gently.

Reylias’ head snaps up and he screams, throwing himself back. “What the fuck?!” he snarls.

“Don’t use that tone with your father,” Callisto chides as he walks to Reylias’ front. 

“Father?” he questions before flaring his wings out. “He’s not my fucking dad!”

“Really, then who was your dad?” S.G., challenges.

“My dad was a- a-” He falters and his wings droop as he tries to recall his parents. His eyes flick frantically from side to side while his mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water.

Prophis looks at him for a long moment before raising back to his feet and slowly approaching Reylias.

“I’m sorry, I know how much it must have hurt,” Prophis says quietly. He reaches up and runs his fingers down Reylias’ wings. The Monster God flinches and the blond pulls his hand back, as Callisto joins him, placing a hand on Prophis’ hip. “I didn’t mean to leave you.” He slowly raises his hand to cup Reylias’ cheek but hesitates. “I missed you both every day…”

Reylias’ eyes dart wildly between his parents. He flares his wings as if he’s about to attack and launches himself forward, but before Glib can fire off an eldritch blast, the monster picks up both men and crushes them against his chest. 

“Why’d you send me away? We were supposed to look for him together!” He says childishly, wrapping his wings tightly around them. 

“It was for the best,” Callisto says softly. “You were becoming depressed.” He pulls back so he can look his son in the face. “I couldn’t bear to watch you wither away.”

“But I was alone!” He cries. This is the most emotion he’s ever displayed, and it’s unnerving to watch him cry as he is. “I was scared!”

“My love-” Prophis begins but is cut off by Reylias’ cries.

“No!” Reylias pulls back so he can look at them. “I woke up confused, scared, and alone!” He’s yelling, but he’s not angry. Much like a child, he is acting mad because he is defensive. “I couldn’t even remember my name!”

“Reylian, I’m sorry,” Callisto tries only for Reylias to shake his head.

“No, no! You don’t get to apologize!” he shouts, spitting acidic saliva, as he rips himself out of his parent’s hold. He flares his wings and roars in anger. In a flash of an eye, he blots out the window, oily black wings lifting him into the air. 

Everyone runs to the hole in the wall and watches as Reylias disappears into the distance. 

“What the hell just happened?!” Glib asks slowly.

“I do not know,” S.G. says, head cocked to a side.

“Do you think he’ll come back to us?” Prophis asks sadly.

“I-” Callisto begins before pausing. “I don’t know.”

Everyone watches in stunned silence, only to be broken by Goodbid swearing under his breath, “damn.”

[percyinpanties]

Reyna and Thalia going on a quest/hunt together

“We make a good team.”Reyna’s words make Thalia look up at the other sitting across from her at the fire. Her brown skin reflects its light, shining golden against the darkness surrounding them.“We do.” Thalia agrees quietly. It would be foolish to deny this. Reyna had proven herself over and over and was able to keep up with Thalia effortlessly right from the start. She definitely had less experience out on a quest than a hunter – her strength lying within leading an army not a group of two – but Thalia had filled in where Reyna found herself lacking. It’s no surprise anymore that Reyna used to lead the Romans alongside her brother, Thalia thinks.“It won’t be long anymore now.” Thalia adds. This quest was never meant to take up so much time to begin with, but they are still here, sitting by a fire and waiting for dawn track down a beast. Thalia would like to believe it’s not just her that’s dragging this out, that Reyna is enjoying this as much, but Thalia knows better than to get her hopes up.“I don’t know.” Reyna replies finally, a little too late. Maybe she is just as lost in thought. “This beast seems to evade us at the last minute every time.”The darkness is a treacherous thing and it makes Thalia believe she sees a smirk on Reyna’s lips.“It won’t be that lucky much longer.” Thalia says. She isn’t sure whether the resentment in her voice comes from the thought of this beast, or the thought of giving Reyna back to the Romans.This time, she is sure that Reyna’s lips twitch.“There are always more beasts to catch.”