#thelordoftheair

[verseandrhyme]

the libation bearers

@resurrectionpact ; @thelordoftheair ; @ceaselessblade ; @onlygodremembers

The kingdom of Valla, referred to by those who dare as the invisible kingdom, is a land hidden away at the bottom of the Bottomless Canyon, only to be visited every few decades when the skies above the lands of Hoshido and Nohr change. Following the curse of its creator, the silent dragon, none live there but ghosts, whispers of the past and what once was and no longer is. A land lost to time and myth, just as any belief or faith’s inevitable end.

In the here and now, it is not Vallaites, but unknown shadows that surge upon the monastery with weapons drawn and spells alight, crying out for the blood of the devout and retribution for whatever secrets time has swept away.

It is not the same. But the similarities are enough to leave Mitama on edge.

Mitama rolls a 19. Crit! 3.5 damage. Target is now poisoned.

Mitama’s voice cracks through the battlefield as she charges in, Valaura flying through the air once more to seep into the shadowy archer’s skin. The figure cries out as the spell burns and poison takes hold of its form. 

Should she be concerned about how easily she’s taken to the spell? She’s never dabbled in poisons before...her father-

isn’t here. Nor is the Dawn or the Dusk she knows so well. Only the Goddess and the blessing she bestows upon them in her name, despite the mark her protectors call a stain of sin upon her ankle. Well...if the Goddess deems this the path Mitama might take, so be it.

She’s never been one for fighting fate anyways.

Sword Mercenary attacks for 1 damage.

The sound of the sword slicing through the air grabs Mitama’s attention before the pain as a cut blossoms on her arm. She hisses and recoils, turning to face the new opponent. Before she can retaliate, another figure attacks it. Mitama blinks, recognizing Ike, before she huffs.

“Still charging in without a thought, hmm?” She calls, turning to find her next target. “Try to keep that head on your shoulders, empty as it is!”

[serenegaldr]

He finds her lying on the ground unconscious, and it brings back memories. Painful memories of fire, so much fire, and screams of anguish, melodious even in the face of brutal onslaught and flames, and the powerlessness, the sheer and humiliating lack of options and inability to do anything except grab the one Heron he found alive and flee.

And it happened again - he knows, he may not be a Heron, but he knows; laguz need not words for many things. He felt it as well, the bracelet Reyson had given him weighing heavy in his pocket. The fire, the scream, and the fact, the brutal and painful fact he could not do a damn thing.

And once again, as he watches tears stream down her face and hears her whisper her brother's name, there is not much more he can do.

Silently, he kneels beside her; without a word, slowly, gently - more gently than anyone would think him capable of - he picks her up and holds her close to his chest, wrapping her in his large wings akin to a blanket, as though to protect her for anything this world might have in store.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

     She was warm, and comfortable, and safe, slumbering in someone's arms like an infant, a pair of wings that weren't her own curled around her, the reassuring brush of feathers gentle against her skin. Leanne stirred, feeling the feathers shift around her as well.

     "...brother...?"

     And then it all crashes back in, the visions - of green leaves and red eyes and white wings and raging, raging fire, from which emitted one last birdsong - Leanne jerked back with a cry, eyes flying open to meet those of the Hawk King. She shouldn't be disappointed, right?

     "Ti-Tibar--" she couldn't even fully get his name out before she collapsed in tears once more, arms wrapping around the Hawk King's torso as tightly as she could manage, as though she feared that he too would be engulfed in flames if she dared to let go for even an instant. The young Heron shook with sobs against his shoulder, and all the while the somber dirge of grief - her own mixed with the deeper strums of the Hawk King's heart - sounded all around her.

     It was a long while before she could calm. "Don't-- don't go," she managed at length, sobs quieting but still holding on tight (but she was so weak. she couldn't stop this, any of this, from happening, even if she tried.) "Reyson, he--" she almost started crying again, but Tibarn needed to listen, otherwise he'd go to fight again, the fire would come back, another one of her family would be lost forever in the inferno. It would consume him, like it consumed her brother, and all the strength in the world wasn't enough to keep them safe from it. "You c-can't go too, Tibarn. P-please, don't leave me alone..."

     Not remembering the first fire of the Massacre had been a blessing. There were no more miracles left for her, now.

[albaccelerando]

braced

starter for @thelordoftheair

Reyson couldn’t tear his eyes from the notice board. He kept scanning the same announcement, again and again, like if he read it a few hundred more times, it would change.

Tibarn was here.

Reyson wasn’t unhappy he was here, far from it. He desperately missed him, after all. Reyson was excited to see him, save for, well...

His shoulder throbbed again. He glanced down at himself, his eyes traveling over the brace that held his shoulder together and kept his arm still. It circled his wing, pulling it against the shattered bones. Tibarn would be furious. He’d promised Tibarn that he’d be safe, that he’d stay out of trouble.

Someone else was trying to look at the board. He slinked away, debating with himself. He couldn’t hide from Tibarn, and even that would raise his suspicions. He felt himself starting to walk, towards the training grounds. He walked out of the hall and into the sun, pausing in the doorway.

Tibarn was standing there, scanning the field. The flutter of excitement in Reyson's chest was only dampened by his aching shoulder. If he walked any closer, he’d want to throw himself at Tibarn and that, he guessed, wouldn’t improve his shoulder. He settled for a wave with his uninjured arm, and a quiet greeting.

“Hi, Tibarn.”

[amitieos]

"Lady Elincia." The voice of the usually calm and collected Hawk King is somewhat quieter than usual today; it is clear that the most recent events have been quite a shock even for him.

One could think it odd for one who has seen his brothers of Serenes burn to ashes, who has lost most of his tribe to treachery he really should have foreseen, who has fought a goddess herself to free the world from petrification.

But those who know him well understand that this is not necessarily about a shocking, unusual event, and rather about the revelation that this whole time he had been pointing his talons at friends.

(There's more to it than that, but - heart-wrenching as it is - he keeps that for himself for the time being. Elincia is already not doing well as is, she doesn't need... also that thrown at her right now.)

"I imagine this has been a huge distress for you." He sighs. "Know that you're not alone in this. We have to stick together to see this through."

A hint of steel, akin to the deadly kind used by the beorc to bring death upon those who wrong them, shines in his eyes.

"... And whoever did this will pay. That, I promise."

"King Tibarn," Elincia greets him with a tense nod. She doesn't smile as she usually would, it's difficult to even speak. What words are left and what good could they even do?

She's shaken by everything, the visions she saw, the battle itself, killing her friend. Reyson. Reyson had been one of the corpses Rion called upon, they'd both have to support Leanne now. So much had been taken from her already. Bile rose in Elincia's throat - how had she been so stupid? She'd trusted Rion, genuinely wanted to save him and he'd betrayed them all in the worst way. She'd been foolish enough to call him her friend.

To him she was only ever a pawn.

Her hands tremble but she does her best to pull herself together. To put on the queenly mask, hide behind it and prove she was strong enough to handle this. She felt so weak and powerless after today. Violence and warfare were so brutal but a game? Tibarn is right, no matter how much Elincia would rather throw down her arms. It's too late for that. Too much was stolen from them.

"He will. We'll..." she trails off but faces Tibarn and meets his eyes. "We will avenge Reyson. I promise." If only she could bring him back, trade places - all impossible now. She wants to cry, breakdown and weep for all that was lost today. Instead she steels her resolve to put an end to that twisted little tyrant. "Rion is the only person to blame. He'll meet his end soon enough."

They're quiet for a moment, perfectly still. Elincia lifts a hand and laces it gently upon one of the hawk king's biceps. She still does not smile but her gaze is gentle.

"For today though, we should grieve and support each other. Leanne, too. She'll need us."

[soliegis]

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄.

          a doleful, frigid wind whistles through fur ends of thick coats, plucks warmth from exposed skin with the deftness of a seasoned thief. he blinks, squinting against its sting to follow the direction of a villager’s pointing to the distant silhouette of hilly swells crested in a patchy layer of snowfall white, hazy against the overcast sky. scant more words are exchanged, soundless in the open air of the sprawling valley, before he gives a nod, one more note of thanks. farmer and knight then part ways — one to his stout brick homestead and mysteriously ill child, the other to his companion a short ways out of sight, concealed in some frosted tree cover.

          ❝ their information is the same as the last group’s, ❞ he says as he draws close, ❝ the mages were last seen around the base of the foothills, carrying what looked like weapons no one’d seen before. ❞ hovering beside the portable magic heater they’d been given for their canvassing mission, he rubs both hands together, savoring the brief respite of warmth that penetrates even past the thick layer of leather. his companion must be faring better than himself, he thinks; those feathers look pretty insulating. a fair trade for having to keep his distance for interviewing townsfolk, maybe — with how many strange things had been happening around here lately, he can’t blame the locals for getting tight-lipped at the sight of a winged man.

          ❝ we should move in that direction while keeping close to cover where possible. at worst, they’ve moved on already and we’ll have to report back empty-handed. but they shouldn’t have known we were coming. we might still be able to catch up. ❞ gathering what small supplies they’d brought along with them, he shoulders a small pack alongside his reginleif strapped across his back. with a last cursory glance around, he starts off through the trees, boots crunching through the winter layers of crystallized grass.

      ☀   //    @thelordoftheair

[ceaselessblade]

Pale Mirror

He was a fool. 

He’s been running away for too long. Perhaps he’d thought he was facing his problems when he’d walked away.  But now, it’s clear that he’d done none of that. He’d thought he’d done the right thing, but how many times did people think they were doing the right thing before they found themselves wrong? Luckily for him, it hadn’t been too late for him to make the realization.  He’d been ashamed to face Tibarn, just training by himself, but clearly that’s not what he should have been doing. It’s only now that he recognized it for the cowardice that it was. He shakes his head. He’d long should have thrown his pride away. Hadn’t that been how he’d always been? It’s precisely because of that resolve that he’d been able to improve. Nobody got better at what they did, if they didn’t face their fears first.  He feared antlers. He feared hooves. He feared things larger than himself.  It wasn’t debilitating, not like the shine of silver that he’d seen in that moonlit night-- he’d overcome that. The fear of steel sliding through undefended flesh feet away was far, far worse than the feeling of monsters mincing his own.  It was precisely because he clouded his swordsmanship with unnecessary things -- his pride, his myriad problems that affected his ability to fight, that he’d found himself descending to a new low.  When was the last time he’d sparred properly with someone? He’d attempted to pick up the things that he’d thought were useful, but he’d neglected the base-- the most amateur mistake there was. And yet, he shouldn’t blame himself. No, the only thing he should blame is--

This was something he’d gone over before, many times. He smiles as he feels the thoughts slide into place, the repetition clicking as he realigns what he needs to do. 

The action-- his lack of diligence in performing it. It was only through doing what people didn’t want to do, that one would improve. If there was a time for tenacity, then now he would prove it. After all, it was when someone was at their lowest did their true worth shine. What he did now would determine the person he was. He’d always chosen the path to stand back up. He would do the same now. 

Tibarn would never turn away giving someone else pointers: he has them here. He will find him. He still lived-- the pulse still beat in his flesh. That meant that he could fight with what he had.  He looks up at the sky-- the hawk is nowhere to be seen from the trees. Shaking off the wooden sword in his hands, he tromps towards the beachfront. 

[boundlesshart]

who the fuck are you (...you?)

starter for @thelordoftheair @lethalbeautyofetruria, and @progenitorheart

The older, bigger Claude finally breaks the silence, “You can stop glaring at me over the glass, me.”

Me, he says. Claude scoffs, opens his mouth to retort, but he doesn’t manage to get a single word out before the older Claude continues. “Yeah, I know you don’t trust me. Give it a few more years, you’ll be better at hiding it.”

Deflating like a popped balloon, Claude has no choice but to admit defeat, sulking as he sips more of his water and lets his eyes wander around the tent. Most of the decorations and furniture are unquestionably Fódlan, but Claude spots glimmers of Almyran flair in the fabrics used and the bits and pieces of wyvern armor laying disassembled on the floor. This early in the morning, the older man must have meditated an hour ago or so. 

All five of them–the two Claudes, Louise, Tibarn, and the male Byleth that came with them–sit on cushions on the floor, a bowl of grapes in the center between them for all of them to share. Breakfast, then? Reluctantly Claude leans forward and picks a grape, rolling it in his fingers, hesitant to take a bite.

Of course, the older Claude quickly notices it. “Go on, you can eat it. I’m not out to starve you guys. I’m just... trying to understand what’s going on. Same as you all, I assume.” The older Claude glances around the group. “Well, of course I recognize you, Teach. I almost forgot how you looked with the blue hair. But you two...” He looks at Tibarn, then Louise, frowning. “I’ve never seen you before. What’re your names? And....” He looks at Tibarn’s wings in particular. “Are- Are those real?”

punting this to either @thelordoftheair or @lethalbeautyofetruria!

[darklingdragon]

⛺️ "Hey. You okay there, Myrrh?" Tibarn can clearly tell the dragon is feeling a little down (he keeps reminding himself not to think of her as "little", if he knows his dragons she's older than him), and what's better when feeling down than a flying trip? Well, aside from a solid spar. Anyway, he approaches, a smile on his face. "You wanna go stretch your wings for a bit? There's a few too many people around for me right now. I want to go exploring, and I wouldn't mind some pleasant company."

She had kept mostly to herself, not too sure of what to do or say, letting herself adjust and process. At the sound of Tibarn’s voice, however, her expression lit up and her demeanor shifted into something less weary-looking. “Ah! I, um, I’ll be okay! Thanks for worrying though, Tibarn, I....” Her voice trailed off without much more to say.

“You... want me to come with you? Really? Okay!” She seemed surprised at the  offer. Myrrh shifted her wings tiredly, glancing at them over her shoulder. She hardly used them a lot back home, given she sat around in front of the temple all day, but he had a point that it was more comfortable to stretch them away from... everyone else. Less stares.

“I... don’t think I will be fast enough to keep up if you wanted to race but I am curious about what else is around here...” She glanced off into the horizon, putting a hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun, trying to spot anything notable but being unable. “I-I’ll try if you did want to, though! Since it looks so far...!”

[thievingstalwart]

The Eager and the Hiding

(starter for @thelordoftheair)

Constant complaints of drafty wyvern stalls and leaky pipes on the pegasi end of the stables has finally given rise to action. Today, the stables will be under repair! Fantastic news, and the words “Extra Credit for Volunteers” allures you to the stables the next morning… where a veritable zoo waits for you. Overeager pegasi gleefully evade their handlers, hoping to fly into the distance for even snowier pastures. Miserable wyverns hole up in their stalls, burying themselves in warm straw and snarling at anyone who tries to get them to move. Hapless humans are falling behind on schedule as their attention splits between animal wrangling and barn repairing. Can’t you do anything to straighten out this situation?

It was a dirty, loud and entirely uncontrolled mess.

“No, stop- come on out! Ashera damn it, why was I the one assigned to these lizards?” because you were stupid enough to say you had fed one a few times. Even though it had bitten you. The wyvern curled up even deeper in the corner, curbing Sothe’s every attempt to come closer with its tail. Or, to be precise, the spikes on its tail.  Not to mention they were reinforced with steel to help the riders combat enemies.

Who could have expected this would backfire.

With a sigh, he stepped back to witness a stablehand chased around by an unhinged pegasus. The repair workers were doing their best to make at least some progress, but with quite a few wyverns right under and beside the main pipe, it was nigh impossible. In all honesty, it might have been easier to build a new barn than try to fix this one. 

As the rogue went outside to ask for help, he nearly froze in place upon noticing a familiar frame. Tibarn is here? Yes, he is, but when? And why? I’ll deal with him later. He needed to have at least a rider present, and that had a higher priority than the sudden arrival of the Hawk King, as weird as it sounded. Sothe nodded, acknowledging his presence and headed over to the courtyard, hoping to find at least someone with more experience than himself. 

[cashandaxes]

It's easy to lose herself in a good fight, especially against such a fearsome beast. The chaos of battle around them is enough of cover to hide her true strength and she's able to let loose and fight to the most of her abilities.

Caeldori's twin or whoever she is lures it down and gives Charlotte the chance to attack. With the wyvern grounded for the moment, Charlotte rushes in and unleashes a flurry of punches to its side. She lets out a triumphant roar as her fists connect with its scales.

Tomyris turns its head toward Charlotte and she sees it's eyes glow just before it sends a breath of fire in her direction. She's able to duck and roll out of the way enough to miss the worst of the flames but she's still singed just a little bit. She shrugs it off and is back on her feet ready for more.

@thelordoftheair

Distrust’s Wings [vs Tomyris]

（ louise ）​:

Louise watches her teammates battle the wyvern, the wyvern using magic attacks and physical attacks. She barely hit on her last turn, but this turn she hopes she can actually successfully hit the wyvern. If not she is going back to training, because she has never had so many issues before. 

The archer grabs an arrow hooks it onto the bowstring aiming at the wyvern’s wing. 

Louise Rolls a 3 miss!

As she draws the bowstring she accidentally let’s go too soon. The arrow falls to the ground in front of her, she stares in annoyance at the bow at her feet. She picks it up and throws it with her hand at the wyvern, it just bounces off the scales of the winged creature. She sighs in annoyance and sighs softly.

Tomyris Rolls a 4 miss!

However when the wyvern lets out a telltale screech and as it ready to use magic she jumps out of the way just in time. It misses her completely she breathes a sigh of relief, “Well at least the wyvern missed as well.” She mumbles to herself.

( Louise reminds herself to go to the range more often after this is over. She has become very rusty apparently. )

-> @cashandaxes​ or @lareinacordelia​

    Their forces were so easily scattered. To fight three monstrosities all at once would have been a manageable fight if the soldiers assisted them… ❝ Together! ❞ The Paragon Knight pushes blame aside and focuses on the offensive, voice as loud as it would let her. As Louise shoots her bow – err, hurls her arrow, Cordelia follows her up and lets her javelin fly.

         Cordelia hits! Result:12 （ 26.5/40 HP ）

     It’s scales was far too thick to penetrate, but a round of attacks from both magic and weaponry gave her an opening. This time around, she pierces through its defenses, her javelin now sticking out of it legs. It relents, screeching and flailing wildly in the air.

         Tomyris missed! Result: 4 （ OK ）

     Cordelia follows Louise’s movements, jumping out of the way as the white wyvern slams its barbed tail down. It crashes on the ground where Cordelia once was, a painful place to be should she have stayed a second longer. Again, she prepares another javelin. The sooner they finish this one off, the faster they can assist the others.

→ @cashandaxes​

[serenegaldr]

a crown for a king ❦

     Wisps of golden-yellow seid magic floated from Leanne’s fingertips as she hummed, strengthening the life force in each individual flower she was currently transferring from the vase into the semi-completed flower crown in her hands. With each strand of magic, the formerly already drooping blossoms became bright and healthy once more, and would last so through at least the next week. It was good that she had found these flowers when she did - any later, and perhaps the Beorc in charge of decorations would have thrown them out to swap in fresh ones.

     Once the vase had been emptied, the Heron looked down proudly at her handiwork, a ring of vibrant color still shimmering with the fading glow of the galdr she had sung into it. Perhaps she’ll go find a friend to give this to? She stood, and began wandering aimlessly down the corridor of the monastery - the halls weren’t packed, but there were still a few students grouped here and there, sitting or walking and enjoying the afternoon sun filtering through the light cluster of clouds in the sky, though none that she knew well. Still humming softly to herself, Leanne had just turned a corner when her eyes lit up at the sight of a familiar pair of wings. Ooh, just the perfect target!

     Sparing just a single thought for how and why and when exactly Tibarn had gotten here, considering he had still been in Phoenicis when she left, Leanne quickly decided those were questions for later, when a much more appealing mission was at hand now. Folding her wings tightly behind her to minimize their noise, she tiptoed forward until she was just a wingspan away from her target... and then she took a deep breath, unfurled her wings, and pushed off, launching herself up until she could drop the flower crown onto the much taller Laguz’s head!

     ...She barely managed to succeed, the crown hanging a little lopsided but staying on Tibarn’s head for now, much to her satisfaction still. Using the resulting momentum from her short flight, she wrapped her arms around the broad shoulders of the Hawk King, nestled between his wings, and chirped excitedly.

     “Tibarn, you’re here! Did you miss me?”

@thelordoftheair

[albaccelerando]

The Fodlan calendar might have Tibarn messed up and confused, but luckily he does not need a calendar to remember about this particular day. As student lectures and his duties are wrapped up, he shows himself on Reyson's doorstep; he holds back the wince that immediately tries to force itself onto his face at the sight of his brace, successfully replacing it with a smile.

"Well, look who has once again gotten a year older, eh." With the Heron's injury, the Hawk restrains himself from offering him a hug or even so much as a pat on the shoulder, instead simply handing him a small package; a set of light, decorative hair clips, in the style that the Herons would typically use.

"It's funny how the fact I know you well almost makes it harder, not easier, to find a gift for you sometimes." Setting aside, of course, how the majority of the "gifts" Tibarn and Reyson would usually offer each other were emotions, support both spoken and not, and other such intangible values, but he leaves that thought be.

"But I know you sometimes run through a lot of those... So, happy birthday." He chuckles, before gesturing towards Reyson's arm with a jerk of his head. "Give yourself a gift as well and don't get into misadventures like this again, alright?"

Reyson could sense Tibarn coming long before he actually appeared. Reyson senses the wince too, but ignores it as best as he can to focus on what Tibarn is saying. He also notes how Tibarn didn’t try to hug him - strange, but Reyson understands why. Tibarn still thinks he’s made of glass, and the brace only proves it.

He knows where this is going from the first few words, and he feels himself nervously flicking his uninjured wing, until Tibarn holds out the box. Reyson stares at the box offered to him, unsure of what to do other than slowly extending a hand and taking it.

“Tibarn...” He struggles with the box with his good hand, cautiously pulling it open to look at the clips inside. They shimmer in the light of the fading sun, and Reyson’s eyes sparkle with the similar light of excitement. “These are so pretty...” He feels his cheeks flushing slightly. He forces himself to look back up at Tibarn, a stupid, happy smile spreading across his face. “Thank you.” He closes the box again and wraps his good arm around Tibarn. “Thank you so much.”

He laughs softly when Tibarn says to stay out of trouble, looking up at him again.

“I’ll do my best to not get hit by students in the future,” he says. “I promise.”

[albaccelerando]

There was something oddly reassuring about how Tibarn’s panic tasted in the back of his mouth. It didn’t mask the pain from Tibarn’s hand on his shoulder, and it didn’t solve the problem, but it at least was something he recognized. He forced back a small wince at Tibarn’s touch, even with how gentle the hawk was with him, to try and reassure Tibarn, though - maybe they were past that point.

“Well, it’s a funny story.” He tilted his head up slightly to meet Tibarn’s gaze. His eyes had that deadpan shine to them that told Tibarn that the story wouldn’t be funny at all. “I got assigned to a mission with some students, and we got attacked. Something flying.” He twitched his good wing, recalling the feeling of the wind beneath him, how long had he been grounded now...? He sighed, pulling the wing back against him. “I grabbed a sword and tried to help, but somehow I got in the way, and I got hit with a stray arrow. Next thing I knew, I was on the ground, and my entire side was numb.” He indicated the brace holding his wing still.

“I tried to go find someone who could help heal it, but they said they didn’t want to try it. They don’t want to completely ruin my shoulder by healing it wrong, so they’re going to try to figure out exactly how the joint is supposed to fit, then they’re going to try. So I have to wear this.” He pointed at the brace, turning slightly to show Tibarn how it fit around the wing. It crossed his chest, gently holding the wing roughly in place, steadying his arm. “But enough about that,” he said quickly, his attempt to brush over the topic rather like a fledgeling bird trying to fly over a mountain. “How have you been? I would have written to you had you been away for another week.”

braced

albaccelerando​:

starter for @thelordoftheair

Reyson couldn’t tear his eyes from the notice board. He kept scanning the same announcement, again and again, like if he read it a few hundred more times, it would change.

Tibarn was here.

Reyson wasn’t unhappy he was here, far from it. He desperately missed him, after all. Reyson was excited to see him, save for, well…

His shoulder throbbed again. He glanced down at himself, his eyes traveling over the brace that held his shoulder together and kept his arm still. It circled his wing, pulling it against the shattered bones. Tibarn would be furious. He’d promised Tibarn that he’d be safe, that he’d stay out of trouble.

Someone else was trying to look at the board. He slinked away, debating with himself. He couldn’t hide from Tibarn, and even that would raise his suspicions. He felt himself starting to walk, towards the training grounds. He walked out of the hall and into the sun, pausing in the doorway.

Tibarn was standing there, scanning the field. The flutter of excitement in Reyson’s chest was only dampened by his aching shoulder. If he walked any closer, he’d want to throw himself at Tibarn and that, he guessed, wouldn’t improve his shoulder. He settled for a wave with his uninjured arm, and a quiet greeting.

“Hi, Tibarn.”

He can’t believe he’s saying this, but there’s something that feels kinda good about seeing his dusty, way too small, old Academy office again. For once, he comes back to a place for the first time after a long pause and nothing is destroyed or on fire. And it’s a good feeling.

Granted, he generally knows how to handle things when they are on fire, but it’s still nice when he doesn’t have to. Unless he’s the one making the fire, that is.

Tibarn looks quickly through the papers on his desk. Looks like the student list has changed considerably. His sharp eyes pass from name to name, until he sees - there she is, Leanne in the Golden Deer House. He wonders how she’s doing; he needs to check on her soon. Luckily, with Reyson around, she should hopefully not have had many language struggles - the Hawk can’t help but be curious about the progress she had made, what with that being one of the main ideas for her journey to Fodlan and all.

Right, Reyson. A wave of fondness appears in Tibarn’s heart at the mere thought of the name. He should check on him as soon as possible, too.

And so, as soon as everything is sorted out just enough for him to handle the first days, decisive steps carry him outside - first to the training grounds. He scans the field while nodding to the couple students passing by, who throw him curious glances. He huffs in amusement; the first time he arrived to Fodlan, his wings attracted a lot more attention than this. But, as he reminds himself quickly, this time he’s not the only winged one around.

“Hi, Tibarn.”

… Speaking of which. At the sound of a voice well familiar, Tibarn turns to greet its owner - and his voice rapidly explodes from his usual tone to shock and concern mid-sentence as he sees the absolute state the Heron is in.

“Hello ReysON— WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU??”

In a matter of less than a second, he is by his side. First instinct says to grab his shoulders, second instinct luckily prevents that just in time - that would likely hurt him even more - and instead he stops himself just enough to merely place his large hand relatively gently and carefully on Reyson’s healthy shoulder.

“What in the name of the gods of Tellius, Fodlan and everything in between did you get yourself into?!” There is perhaps a hint of exasperation in his voice - he said he’d be okay, he promised he would not put himself in danger - but it’s largely pushed back by the concern, the worry and a hint of desperation. Oh by the Goddess, please do not let this be anything too serious. Please don’t let him say that the moment he let Reyson out of his sight, he put him in danger.

“Did you have an accident? Or did someone else did this to you?… Has Rhys seen this? Maybe he could help you heal it faster?”

[ceaselessblade]

Tibarn is a vengeful man. Though it may only have been a spar, his honor still demands that he take revenge on Ike for hitting his wing that one time. And what better time to do it than now? He smirks as he spots Ike on the ground, trying to enjoy his meal. He lets out a loud shriek and down his men go, attacking Ike and his delicious food with no remorse. Oh Ike, if only you knew that paricular shriek meant "GET HIM BOYS", maybe you'd have thought to run. But you didn't. And now you shall pay.

Ike’s senses are muddled, not dulled, and so when he hears the cacophonous gathering of wild shrieks he decides to look around, concerned. He’s no stranger to wild flocks of animals about, and something in his senses tell him danger is approaching. He only understands when a shadow falls over him. He darts to his feet, ready to repel whatever’s coming down.  He recoils in shock, delivering a harsh chop to wrist as he sees the flash of green and familiar raptor eye. Ettard drops unceremoniously into the sand, and he’s immediately punished when a sheer wall of flying feathers and wing buffets him for his insolence in not putting up a defense.   The crowing flood of seagulls descend upon him, squawking for all that they’re worth, followed by the cackling of a wild hawk king as they rob the fish he’s managed to drag to shore. 

Ike stumbles out of the cloud, coughing and sputtering feathers. A gull perched on his head takes off with a peck and scornful eye, and Ike mournfully looks at the flapping ball of birds. He has no illusions on the food-- it’s likely all gone under the torrent of gulls.  He sighs. Well, he’s not actually angry, after all. It’s not like the island does hungry. Still, he mourns the waste of his effort.  That leaves the matter of how they came together in the first place. He yells at the ringleader, tone filled with joking resentment.  “Tibarn! You oil-slicked fishing tyrant! Come down here this instant and let me hit you again!” He coughs, making a face of disgust as a stray feather dislodges itself from the depths of his throat.  “--How’d you even get the seagulls to listen to you?!”

[boundlesshart]

continued from here, @thelordoftheair

“Let’s see...” The flowers alone give away that wherever they are, they must be in the spring season: Lone Moon to the Garland Moon. A closer look at the flowers plants a thought in his head, and the serrated leaves and red stems of the leaves confirm it. “This is a cherry tree. They grew these back in the monastery, but they were such a pain to keep. It turns out that they don’t really like cold, mountainous terrain.”

Claude pauses, considering the implications. “If we’re in Fódlan–and that’s a pretty big if–then I can definitely tell you that we are not in Faerghus. More like Adrestria or Leicester.” Flicking the foliage to the side, Claude now raises his arms, reaching for Tibarn’s arms. “Help me up. Maybe there’s something about where we landed that can help us.”

[darklingdragon]

of sea and sky

continued from here @thelordoftheair

She just gave him a quiet stare. Myrrh would have loved to agree, with a ‘wow, me too!’ but she couldn’t. Most of her life had been forcibly dedicated to guarding a temple, and did not lend itself to much in the way of air-travel. (Though, she could recall one time she flew to the top to see if she could get a better look at the woods and Morva had a fit looking for her.)

“I... agree. Flying alone is not very fun.” An admittance, but being alone in general wasn’t very enjoyable. If there was one relief to come out of most of the monastery being stuck here, it was that they weren’t alone. Fleeting relief in the face of overwhelming panic. “The beach is... nice. Maybe too nice but... that might not be something to complain about...”

Watching Tibarn take off, Myrrh watches for a moment before following behind. She stared out over the waves, trying to see something, anything that might be somewhere they could go to, or even give a hint where they could be. Nothing. 

“Um... is this like any beach you’ve seen before, Tibarn? It’s very... it is pretty but makes me very uncomfortable. I’m not sure why.” She called over above the wind.