#corvuschriisti

[ulircursed]

♡ :smirk:

from here!

name: emery

gender: male (he/they)

class: arch knight > fe4 style bow knight > fe10 style silver knight (basically like 3h style bow knight + sol, i just wanted to give him the triple tier due to being the child of an fe10 character)

branded, which really confused andrei at first bc this is not the mark of ullr but it is A Mark. would naesala have explained this to him? who knows! anyway emery's brand is on his solar plexus

a friendly guy in general, but has a bad tendency to use (inappropriate at times) humor to hide his true feelings about matters. 'see how much hair i have? it's made out of my mom's feathers 'cuz he lost 'em all after i was born!'

see above: intense guilt complex about the laguz parent power loss clause that he does not address ever. if ever forced to actually sit down and talk it out, would cry a lot and he can't have that. so jokes and running away from issues it is! (still likes to collect shiny things to give to naesala, though he always plays it off as just stuff he was gonna throw away anyway. naesala is secretly his favorite parent and he wants his love so badly despite feeling undeserving of it)

releases all his pent-up negative feelings through fighting, and his personality does a complete 180 once he steps onto a battlefield. scarily good at battle bc of his branded status, his bow skills far surpassing even andrei's despite not. technically having ullr blood. andrei has a complex about that bc as mentioned before, scipio exists and also doesn't have ullr blood, so andrei ends up questioning whether his blood is the one that is defective

inherited andrei's natural charm with pegasi, but will not be a flying class ever bc he has an intense fear of heights. the fear is true, but it's a manifestation of his feelings that he shouldn't ever take to the skies after naesala lost his powers for him to be born

[carefreemonk]

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ compliment me.

[ azama steps up to the mic ]

A lovelier bastard I have never seen! (This is a lie.)

The blackness of his wings beautifully matches the colour of his spirit! Kudos for that!

He has a flair for chaos near unrivalled, I must say. If he were a student in my class, he'd probably be the designated shit disturber! (affectionate)

I could probably stand to learn a thing or two from him insofar as meddling goes. Hmm hm~ ♡

Also, his dancing is *hilarious*

100% you don't want to miss out on it. It will better your life if you don't die from laughter first

Rooting for you! You beautiful dastard of a bird! Keep on causing problems!!

[kingstalons]

It's a small handwritten note, tacked to Tibarn's door. It reads:

'Professor Tibarn, We regret to inform you that the Garreg Mach monastery has en masse voted that we will all be eating nuts and berries forever. So, unfortunately, you will need to go somewhere else if you want to eat ever again. This is so sad, but it is the truth. Also, no one likes the hawks so you should leave anyway. You're probably also fired. Sincerely, The Garreg Mach staff" A discerning eye would no doubt be able to recognize the former Raven King's handwriting, should they think hard enough about it.

Tibarn had not expected to find a note tacked to his door . He read it over once carefully with confusion before realizing he knew that handwriting .

There was really only one person who could have written it anyway. Someone he hadn't expected to see here .

Figures the crow would try to pull something sneaky . He read the letter over again just to make sure the handwriting was as familiar as it seemed . It wouldn't do to accuse him of something he actually didn't do .

Then he drafted his response . Naesala's office was easy to find . He located it and left a fresh note on the crow's own door .

❝ My dear friend and comrade , How nice of you to reach out on behalf of the staff . Unfortunately I'm here to stay . I'll find something to eat , I'm sure . But thank you for the welcome . -- Tibarn , King of the United Bird Tribes ❞

There . That should do it .

[galercin]

There are plenty of reasons to come to a party like this. Free food, for one. To find those with the loosest lips and hear the local gossip, for another. And of course...

There are so many people here with expensive, valuable items on their person.

Now, Naesala is not about to shy away from a challenge of dexterity, especially one of such low stakes. When he sees that absolutely stunning and beautiful woman alone under the mistletoe, he knows that this is the opening he has been looking for.

Direct, to the point. He comes up to her and smiles. It's not a charming smile; the thing is wry, half baked, and a little mischievous. He looks up at the mistletoe above them and laughs.

"Well, I am a man of tradition. Who am I to say no?"

He leans in, kisses her forehead between her brows -- not so forward to kiss her lips, but wanting to make her feel flustered. It's oddly tender, and he hopes it will have the desired effect. He reaches down, and with feather-light fingers and incredible skill he slips the ring from her finger.

Oh, this will get him a pretty penny, won't it?

He pulls back, smiles at her, and bows a little. His hand slips into his jacket pocket to he does to hide the ring as he smiles. "Naesala of Kilvas, what an honor it is to make your acquaintance."

When he approaches her, he is confident in a vainglorious way. Rinea has no time to reject as she is caught by the sight of gigantic wings of ebony. She sees no fire nor ice around him to denote him fallen and even further from anything deemed holy. A bird then, swooping in for its prey.

She shuts her eyes when he moves closer, not quite rejecting the gesture, but to say she did not flinch slightly when he begins to approach her and not a less offensive part, like her hand, would be a lie.

She expects it to scratch her, in the same way that birds’ talons do when they find you as a perch. They leave red scrapes in the beginning and the points dig into skin, but once they leave, there is no true harm. The kiss to her head is like that, yet where she expects it to leave a mark, she finds none. It is gentler than she gives him credit for and if her heart were not trapped beneath a cage of sorrow and longing for someone else, she might have rewarded his action with a soft flush. 

Her eyes flutter open when he speaks again, that lopsided smile beaming back at her. 

“Rinea… of Rigel,” she lets him have that much. 

“Are all residents from Kilvas this forward,” she levels his own mischievous smile with her own small tilt of her lips, raising a brow slightly, “Or could that be just you?”

…

It is much later that she notices her finger much lighter, when she is packing up what is left of her tin that she brought. The lid clatters to the floor. 

Quickly she begins her search, but never does she suspect anyone but herself to blame for its loss and what’s left of her heart with it.

[luminousrider]

"My, my," Naesala says, coming up behind Altena. He tilts his head and smiles, a polite little look on his face. He has to work quickly, to figure out his mark -- to find a strategy that would, by all accounts, work for him. Finding her alone by the drinks is simply step one.

She does not look the type to be so easily won over by flattery alone. No, she actually looks a little uncomfortable here, out of her element. Judging by her stature and expression it is not far fetched to deduce that she is not enjoying herself.

But, goodness! Look at those shiny buttons. She does not seem to be so easily distracted that she would let something like that slip through her fingers. Yet, they would look awfully nice upon Naesala's window, reflecting the sunlight.

He had been watching her for some time now. That frown. That barely concealed disdain. She clearly does not like one of the guests -- he cares little for which -- and decides to use that to pivot.

"You will not believe how obnoxious that man is," he says, and nods back towards where she was sitting. He need not fill in the details, hopefully she will. He rolls his eyes as he comes up beside her, swiftly slips his hand down and --

roll: 1d4, result: 1 button stolen!

-- takes one button off her sleeve.

"If I need to here another arrogant word out of that one's mouth I fear I might lose my appetite."

Even though she's been seated directly across from him, there are enough other things to do around the dining hall that Altena has been able to mostly avoid him. Currently, she finds herself by the punchbowl, leaning with her elbow against the table. Whether she realizes it or not, she's glowering in Quan's direction. She can't help it. Her face just does that and it does that even more so when she's forced into the vicinity of her birth father.

But a voice comes up behind her and she's ready to turn her head to glare at him too until he speaks and her scowl softens into something resembling relief.

"Fuck, I was beginning to think I was the only one who noticed it! He's so out of touch with reality but everyone else just seems to humor him."

It's refreshing to find someone that doesn't. So much so that she does not notice the way he so deftly plucks one of her buttons off.

Later, when she does finally notice, Altena will just assume she must have flexed so hard that the threads sprung loose. Not the first time and it certainly wouldn't be the last either.

[reprisalet]

🍪

He has a few between his lips, pointed downwards like fangs. He's grinning, and takes a step forward towards Reyson.

"Do you think this new look suits me?" he asks, his words mumbled with lack of ability to properly move his mouth. "I think I look fierce. Surely, no one will steal these from me now."

reyson covers his mouth to hide a laugh. it would feel like some sort of capitulation to let naesala know he finds him funny in this, but he does. once he lowers his hand, he's scrutinizing him, as if seriously considering the effect.

"what a brazen look, naesala. come closer."

he steps closer, closing the distance between them quickly and raising himself up to his full height as he grabs naesala's hands, mostly to keep them out of the way as he goes for the pocky.

he takes a small bite of each cookie one at a time, leaving most for naesala, and presses a kiss to his cheek. "ridiculous creature."

[ulircursed]

It's a strange settling in his chest, but one he does not pay much mind to. There's a stirring of the word 'friendship' that is accompanied by undeniable affection -- something he will not be speaking aloud, for fear of such a tenuous connection breaking.

Naesala is, and always will be, a bit of a coward. His hands did not shake when he wrote his letter, and they do not betray rising anxiety as he presses it to Andrei's door. He's not used to the abyss, but he's found his way down here into its suffocating halls in order to deliver his message.

The letter, of course, penned in his own hand. The wax has just cooled, and inside it reads:

Andrei, You know about the upcoming ethereal ball, don't you? There's to be a masquerade, of which I'm sure you will selfishly cover that delightful blush of yours. If no one has yet offered themselves as your chaperone and guide, might I suggest myself? Come see me if you accept -- I would like to coordinate outfits. Reyson and Tibarn will also be there, as well as my good friend Beowolf. You'll fit right in. Please send Cranberry my regards. You'd better be listening to all of his demands. - Naesala

Though he knows that Andrei will not understand the meaning and sincerity of the gesture, he leaves inside the letter a single black feather.

Andrei had heard about the ball; rumors always quick to spread among the student body and loud enough that anyone vaguely involved with the monastery would be guaranteed know of them within a few days’ time.

He hadn’t exactly planned to attend. While initially intent upon preserving the facade of normalcy in his life upon arriving in Fódlan, that habit had gradually fallen by the wayside until it had all but ceased to become normal in his life at all.

In fact, in recent memory, the only events of this caliber he could remember attending are the ones Ethlyn had decided to sign him up for, in a gesture meant to annoy, and one that he always pays back in full.

This, though... this is rather different, and even reading the letter alone, Andrei cannot quite suppress the hint of pink that rises in his cheeks at the invitation. Chaperone and guide. What does Naesala mean by that?

"Does your bird culture have a different meaning to something like this?" he mutters at Cranberry, who lifts his head up at the attention, tilting it with a soft squeak. Andrei sighs, withdrawing the black feather and holding it out to the pigeon, who eagerly takes it up with his beak in recognition and places it gently into his basket, tucked in with the warm cloth.

Andrei waits for the bird to finish fussing with his nest before rising from his seat. "Come," he holds out a hand and scoops Cranberry onto his palm, "I suppose we had better pay him a visit, then."

Just to clear up any potential misunderstandings, he tells himself, privately thankful that the long walk to the monastery grounds would give the flush on his cheeks plenty of time to abate.

[ulircursed]

— a kiss after grabbing the other’s arm and pulling them back close.

He was acting on instinct, as he so often did. His fingers splayed out on Andrei’s arm and he tugged him back towards himself, a sly little smile on the raven king’s face.

“You don’t get to leave the conversation after pouting like that,” he said. His eyes flicked from Andrei’s down to his lips, and Naesala decided he was done playing their little game. He put an arm around Andrei’s waist and pulled him in, close to his chest, and kissed his lips.

It was a soft and pleasant feeling at first, but Naesala was always bad at keeping things too sweet; allow it to sit in his hands too long and he’ll find a way to bruise it. He only pulled away after nipping at Andrei’s lower lip, that grin on his face replaced by a calm and even smile.

“Isn’t that better than running away?”

another kiss prompt (no longer accepting!)

Andrei is accustomed to walking away at the end of upsetting conversations.

He is accustomed to people letting him walk away, accustomed to the hollow silence at his back as he stalks off. There was never a feeling of victory, even when he'd gotten the last word. Painful, angry feelings had simply been allowed to fester, building until he made the final choice from which there was no return, again and again.

The sensation of being pulled back, as such, startles Andrei enough that he has no words of retort before Naesala is already moving in for the kiss. The soft noise of surprise in his throat quickly melts into silence as he reciprocates, even as his rational mind told him how ridiculous an action this is. He's meant to be angry, still.

He doesn't even flinch at the brief sting of pain at his lip, trusting that Naesala is not looking to seriously injure him. It is grounding, in a sense, as is pulling back to see the raven's smile. Andrei's expression relaxes, a dusting of pink settling over his cheeks.

"It isn't as though I would know," he mumbles, looking away briefly, "I have never attempted or experienced such a — such an impertinent tactic before."

He doesn't try to walk away again, though.

(Perhaps... he always would've wanted to be pulled back.)