#prhyst

[concealedbybreeze]

[ Embrace ] - The sender gets in closer, practically embracing the receiver as they dance.

!

Rhys hadn't meant to get so close to Lewyn as the music played, but he was even more startled to spin, land practically in someone's arms, and then realize they were wearing almost exactly the same outfit.

"H-hi, haha," he blushed, awkwardly laughing. "Um... you're from Jugdral right? I, er, well, I really like the fashion, from there you see."

These sorts of things are quite common among the startled nerves of academy students, aren’t they? 

Lewyn is sympathetic to Rhys’ plight, catching the other man with gentle care. Once he makes sure the healer can stand upright, he lets loose a chuckle. 

“Sure am. The name’s Lewyn, a humble bard blown in from Agustria. Surprised you’re not from there yourself, actually. Don’t know if you realized it yet, but you’re crampin’ my style with that outfit of yours.” 

This is said purely in jest, but Lewyn gives Rhys a second or two to let the joke hit. If it isn’t obvious enough through speech alone, the lighthearted grin on Lewyn’s face should say quite clearly that he’s not being serious. 

“You got a name, though? Or are you alright with bein’ remembered as the guy who nearly fell on top of me?” 

#IC #ASKBOX #PRHYST #toaball2022 #//spiderman pointing meme

[hezulion]

[ Laugh ] - Laughing makes for a natural smile, and so the sender tries to make the receiver laugh for the photo.

Rhys wasn't sure he could get anyone to laugh naturally on the spot, but he'd try his best for a photo.

"If a warrior wanted to bring a date to the dance, he'd have to axe his partner out, huh?" Rhys smiled, eyes bright as he began to pray that he would get a laugh and not a stomp to his foot.

The joke isn't funny.

It’s really not funny at all, which might be why Ares has to strain to hold back laughter. It’s so bad it’s almost good. The man, a priest or bard he presumes, is one he doesn’t know. Ares tends to be guarded around strangers but there’s something about the man’s demeanour, his smile, posture and the way he carries himself that puts him immediately at ease. 

The man looks up at him expectantly, joyful smile still plastered on his face. Something in Ares snaps and a snicker or two escapes his lips. One after another, the giggles devolve into a chuckle and suddenly, Ares is in peals of laughter.

He swipes away the moisture from the corner’s of his eyes, still guffawing but with less gusto. It really isn’t that funny but Ares finds himself tickled regardless.

“Alright, alright... that was so bad I want a stamp on my card. He’d have to axe-- ahahaha.”

#s:rhys #prhyst #toaball2022

[perne]

it’s sword of a lot

starter for @prhyst!

    THIS ISN'T THE STRANGEST thing he's dragged himself into. A roleplaying game played out in the open for the whole student body to see? Pssh, he's done worse. But as he gears up in faux armor, and straps a dinky wooden sword to his hip, the black paint chipping off the hilt, he thinks to himself— it's probably one of the most fun. He smiles as he finishes costuming himself, tying a cloth band around his brow to complete the look.

    "...And what did you say your character's name was, again?" The student in charge asks him.

    "Troude." He answers readily. Gods, it's hard to say it with a straight face.

    "Right... Troude the hot myrmidon…" the kid scribbles it down on a piece of paper. They hand it over to Perne, a finger tapping on the blank spaces.

    "Anyways, before our campaign starts, we'll need another myrm. Can I ask you to find someone?"

    Perne grins. "Leave it to me."

    His eyes are quick to scan the courtyard their game's situated in, head swiveling as he searches every corner for a familiar face. It's fairly crowded at this time of day, with groups of people sitting beneath trees and lying on the grass. None of them look awfully busy. It shouldn't take too long for him to find his mark.

    After another scan of the area, he catches a head of ginger hair, glowing bronze in the afternoon sun. Bingo! Perne's eyes widen— he knows this guy! …He thinks. He's pretty sure he's seen him around, anyways. In any case, he follows that thread of familiarity, however thin it may be, and walks over to him with a skip in his step.

    "Hey!" he waves, "This miiight be a bit sudden but I need me another myrmidon pal for this thing I'm doin', and ya look right for the job. Whaddya say?"

#THREAD. it's sword of a lot #SUPPORT. rhys #((finally getting back into writing after everything that's happened hehe)) #((please lmk if you need any changes!))

[amitieos]

rust to gold

Fort Merceus. The Stubborn Old General. The most fortified city in the Adrestian Empire. The fact security was incredibly tight came at no surprise. The vast, almost cavernous room they were all shuffled into however was unexpected.

“New construction. Higher ups wanted this up and running A S A P - imperial military lingo for as soon as possible, sorry, forgot you guys are civvies. Next time it’ll be prettier for sure-” Elincia looked towards the guard speaking with a hint of alarm held in her wide eyes. The man seemed friendly enough but had he even stopped for breath? He spoke at such a speed she hardly had time to process what he’d said/

“Newman! No dawdling” “S-sir!”

Newman saluted, shut his mouth immediately and marched away to other duties. Elincia tried to keep his thick ginger beard and bright green eyes in mind. He’d seemed far more amicable than any of the other guards here. Lead into a small office on her own, she found herself face to face with an officer, a woman with dark grey eyes that seemed to look straight past her. Her questions were curt and her tone no nonsense. Name, birthdate, known spells, had she brought any dangerous objects.

“I have a sword with me.” Elincia confessed, immediately doubling back on herself as the officer’s eyes narrowed. “It’s a family heirloom - our national treasure! I have no intention to attack anyone, I promise.”

Perhaps only because they’re here on church business, her paperwork was ticked off all the same. The woman muttered about how dangerous she is - a mage and a swordmaster. What a security risk. Her belongings were taken for inspection too and she hesitated before handing over Amiti. Alas, they’d get nowhere if she refused and so Elincia complied, accepting the wooden tag she was granted instead. Her name and details were carved into it and Elincia stepped to the side to wait for her belongings and allies.

It was a curious little thing. Polished beautifully, a number cut into it alongside the rest of her information. There was something odd about it too. She could feel magic emanating from it, albeit weakly.

“Ah, Pelleas. Could you take a look at this for me?” Elincia was joined by four people she was lucky enough to consider friends: Maria, Rhys, Marianne and Pelleas himself. His experience with magic was far greater than her own, so she deferred to his expertise. “I think it’s enchanted, is yours the same?”

@cruelsfate @pirrhyc @prhyst @princessmacedon

#t:rust to gold #s:maria #s:marianne #s:pelleas #s:rhys #princessmacedon #cruelsfate #pirrhyc #prhyst #flmerceus2022

[ulircursed]

Rhys stood across the battlefield from Andrei, gripping his tome. He tried to appear confident, but he’d never been good at seeming tough even during training. He gave his opponent a bashful smile, and then got his best game face on and cast bolganone.

“O-okay. Here I go!”

Rhys Roll: Natural 20, critical hit! -5HP to Andrei. Andrei HP: 1/6

He clapped a hand over his mouth as the earth erupted under Andrei with more force than he’d ever seen the spell have. “Woah!”

     It wasn't the familiar shadows this time, but it hit hard nonetheless, and Andrei found himself, for the second time in the span of less than an hour, brought to his knees by a magic strike. This one burned, bright cinders dancing along his clothing and searing the skin underneath, until he was left gasping amid a haze of smoke.

     He felt the ring upon his finger pulse out the same warmth as before, much more needed this time. With the aid of the minimal healing, he was able to catch his breath.

andrei hp: 1.5/6

     "Y-you're..." he lifted his head with difficulty to stare at his assailant. Wasn't this man a healer? He wouldn't have expected one capable of such a feat, but this was no time for surprise. He had to fight back, before he lost all strength. Andrei drew back his bow, firing one shot, then another.

andrei attacks (8, 10): 2 damage rhys hp: 3/5 rhys cannot counterattack!

     Both attacks barely glanced the opponent, and Andrei let his arm drop with exhaustion afterwards.

#toaboel2022 #prhyst

[keen-kin]

Fight or Fright, Bronze round

Event starter for @elegiac-boar, @prhyst and @dutybounded

The projectionist had claimed that these were the perfect training dummies, and from her demonstration they were certainly interesting foes. Larcei would have had no problem raising her sword against these enemies, but… this was an opportunity. To try out something new. Something exciting. Something she’d never had real combat experience with before. 

The plan was to fight a whole gauntlet of enemies, right? So it was only fitting she used gauntlets to do it. 

One two, one two. She planned out her attack in her head, trying to emulate the brawlers she’d watched. Jump in, one two, dodge the counterattack. Simple, right? 

This first round was two vs four, Larcei had confidence she and her teammates would breeze through this. Her first target: the archer. 

Larcei rolls: 15, 14. Hit and hit! (-1hp) Archer rolls 16. Hit! (-2hp) 

One two! With a satisfying bash, Larcei got two solid blows in. Initial impressions: gauntlets were pretty fun. 

What wasn’t so fun was the dodging part. The archer drew and released before Larcei had time to react, and she was hit in the arm. Oof. 

“Alright, who’s next?” She called out to her teammates pulling out the arrow. It stung, but she’d be fine. 

Larcei’s hp: 10 -> 8 Archer’s hp: 15 -> 14

#elegiac-boar #prhyst #dutybounded #thread: fight or fright #bronze round #toaphantasmagoria2021 #//woah I used html successfully

[zofiamagus]

My Little Meow Meow ⁎ Luthier & Rhys

@prhyst

Before his departure, Luthier promised Whiskers that, no matter what, he could never, ever be replaced in his heart.

However, as the Mage finds a vacant bench in the sunlight and sits down with a few books, he cannot help but feel the glaring lack of a warm, soft, purring furry friend to invite onto his lap and discuss the intricacies of magic with as they enjoy simply being, keeping each other company...

It is a deficiency that demands at the very least a temporary substitute; and luckily for Luthier, it would seem that the monastery and the immediate area around it are not devoid of the potential candidates.

“Why, hello there. You are looking most radiant today,” he says softly, extending his hand towards a pure white kitty. The animal approaches him with some interest, but a mild one at best at the moment. That is fine - trust and friendship are built slowly, that much Luthier knows.

How about a show that he is worth the attention, for starters? Walking with a small satchel of cat treats on him at all times, the Zofian is always ready to offer payment for the privilege of touching the soft fur. Producing a piece, he offers it to the pet. A second later, it is snatched from his hand; slowly, his fingers wander over in between the cat’s ears, giving its head a gentle scratch, and earning a rub in return.

Perfection!

He chuckles softly as he pets the cat for a moment, before it rubs against him one more time and then takes its leave. “Thank you very much for your time. I hope to see you around,” Luthier says with a nod, waving goodbye to the animal.

Only then does he note that there is one of the Academy’s teachers standing next to him.

“Ah— My apologies, Professor,” he utters quickly, standing up and bowing in greeting. How could he miss the teacher’s arrival like that, where are his manners? (With the cat, is where.) “I got... somewhat absorbed. The pets of the monastery are simply exquisite. Such noble creatures.”

It is only then that he remembers that, with how new he is to the Academy, his name might not yet be known to the Professor. Right. With his hand on his chest, he offers one more bow, a shorter one this time.

“Ahem... Luthier Corvinus. I arrived mere days ago. It is a pleasure.”

#prhyst #『 thread ⁎ my little meow meow 』 #『 the knowledge I attain is never enough ⁎ ic 』 #『 mission season ⁎ uncharted 』 #『 support ⁎ rhys 』 #((three starters in)) #((not a single serious thread title)) #((I like where this is going))

[dutybounded]

sciamachy

silver round // @elegiac-boar, @prhyst, @keen-kin

        Tantamount to a good fight was a running start. Careful plans and well laid traps were, of course, important to any operation. Of course they were. However, when it came down to a good old fashioned fight, one must take to emotion like flame. It would catch readily, so long as one was willing to let everything go and fight solely on feeling. Fight solely on the balls of your feet, until the last fist is thrown, the last axe is downed, the last breath is taken. Frederick knew that it had to start somewhere. So why not start with him?

        “Allow me, students!”

         Untethering himself from the floor was easy. Even if he did not have his trusty steed Josephine with him, he knew what it felt like to be free. Buckling his brave knuckles tightly, he charged ahead—emulating steam as he bolted straight towards the Wyvern Lord himself. Landing a solid punch, the strongest of his will from his fist onto the chest of his enemy, he threw his entire body weight into the next. This time he knew even lightning, at this range, was unmissable. A second, equally blaring strike landed on flesh, cutting into scaly armor and scraping up a sullied mess! But such was the fate of a monstrous fiend.

Frederick used One-Two Punch! Never Miss! -1.5* 4 = -6HP damage. Wyvern Lord’s HP: 14/20HP // Prayer Ring grants +1 HP to Frederick: 9.5/10 HP

         A third, a fourth, burning wounds into the Wyvern Lord before it could even roar in thunderous opposition. Just as he was about to plow another punch in, the Wyvern Lord flitted its arm forward, fronting a full-on magic attack. To his fortune, and likely the vision of his loved ones leading him to dodge for his life, the hit was quite light. He felt it singe his hair just slightly, leaving him sore, but still readily able.  

        “There will never be enough prayers to save you now!”

Wyvern Lord rolled 7, barely hit! -1.5 HP damage. Frederick’s HP: 8 HP / 10 HP

        Lunging at his opponent, he lit his fists a-flame in sheer emotion, riveting from side to side, meeting flesh and scale. It was fury, it was exhilaration, it was every bit he had trained to do to serve his lord, his lady, his nation. But now, they were just in a ring fighting ghosts. Regardless, Frederick was not going to leave his team disappointed. Honing every inch of his mind towards feeling, the flow of time sauntered backward. And he knew he would make each mark, as though it were his first. (And as though it were his last.)

Frederick used One-Two Punch! (Pt. 2) Never Miss! -1.5 *4 = -6HP damage. Wyvern Lord’s HP: 8/20 HP remaining.

        Rearing back, his fists were burning up. But he felt rather satisfied that he had done his duty so diligently. Now, it was up to his fellow comrades in arms to follow in pursuit.

#sciamachy #elegiac boar #prhyst #keen kin #{ go team goooooo #toaphantasmagoria2021

[arcstral]

"King Marth, it's an honor to have you with us." They'd spoken at the ball that seemed multiple yeas ago rather than just months, and yet Rhys still felt a bit shy. He pushed that down, only wanting to be welcoming and helpful. "I, um. Well, how've you been? A lot has happened, huh..."

               “ Why, the honor is all mine; I will admit that my heart and mind is that much clearer in knowing that you are with us, professor,  “   Marth said with pleasant surprise, turning around after the initial caucus of their peers and associates had finished. He’d been meaning to approach the older man himself after the meeting, spotting him as a familiar head amongst the crowd and even the first speaker amongst their company of all things.

               The last time they had crossed paths was beneath the glittering vault of the ballroom, without ties to any firm obligations like the present. He was happy to see him withal.

               Alongside the invocation of its talents, his gentle presence undoubtedly served to quell some of the king’s worries; namely, that they would find themselves not only in sore want for a healer, but also an experienced one. Vouching for his ability came easily in the regard. The professor’s performance at the Valley of Torment, challenging the might of the lava worm at his side, carved within Marth a deep and favorable impression.

               Host to naught but a friendly air, he gave the other a bright smile.   “  Only well. Much has come to pass in the months between the Ethereal Ball and now. The sense of cheer and nonchalance from that time is much missed, I will admit, but I have absolute certainty in that we will not allow misery to define us. I pray you feel the same.  “ 

#◜ ╰ ♕ ◦ › royal mandate ‹ ASKBOX. ◞ #FLMerceus2022 #prhyst #( handshake emoji ) #two young old men back at it #lets get it senior rhys

[primabsoluta]

Rhys enjoyed his work in the monastery infirmary. It was larger than the space he'd had at the keep, and certainly bigger than his family's tiny house, where the only available bed to spare was his own.

He hummed and worked on folding clean bandages and organizing the cupboards. Sorting in a new shipment of supplies was a bit tedious, but he liked the satisfaction of working and the feeling of clean cloth in his hands.

Rhys turned his head at the sound of footsteps behind him and he smiled, genuine and soft with a light in his eye. "Oh, Manuela. It's nice to see you. This should only take me ten more minutes or so..." he patted a small stack of cloth. "Nice to always have a good supply."

It was the Day of Devotion, wasn't it? "Oh-! And Happy Day of Devotion to you."

Manuela hangs back a moment at the threshold of the infirmary. Was she... dreaming?

How else could she explain a pleasant looking, handsome young gentleman here. Cleaning up the mess she left when she couldn't be bothered to sort through the delivery of new supplies, and all with a smile on his soft, charming face? Be still her beating heart!

He looks towards her, tawny eyes practically sparkling and she really has to worry if she's been drinking too much recently. He smiles at her - gentle and sincere. Manuela thanks the Goddess for everything that brought her here today, and for blessing her with divine colleagues.

"Oh my, thank you so much!" she gushes, finally crossing over the threshold and taking a seat on a cot across from him. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, Rhys, isn't it? I'm so thrilled to have such considerate colleagues. You must allow me thank you. Perhaps over dinner or drinks?"

"Happy Day of Devotion to you too!" Sothis thank you for answering this humble woman's prayers!

#s:rhys #prhyst #((he.... manuela is gonna have to fan herself when he leaves. an actual angel?))

[making-dough]

Choco-pasta (+Rhys)

♠  ~ The next item on her list was...sharing chocolates with Rhys? Alright, fine, so she did have a box of sweet, tasty, easily-snackable chocolates stashed away somewhere. Did she particularly feel like sharing? No, not really. First off, they were hers. She bought it. For herself. For her own enjoyment. She shouldn’t have to share that with anyone. Much less practically being ordered to share. What kind of busybody even suggested this as an activity?

Well, to be fair, there wasn’t much left to be shared anyway. She was down to the last few pieces in the box. Barely enough for a satisfying snack and, uh, apparently, she’d been a bit careless in storing them. They’d wind up kinda half-melted and all kinds of yuck. What to do? What to do? Oh, alright, maybe she should go find this Rhys. If they put their heads together, she was sure they’d find some way of finding a use for these chocolate-y scraps.

She eventually found him in the kitchens, apparently in the middle of preparing a pot of pasta, from the looks of things. Not just that but he’d just left it hanging unattended. How careless. What was he doing, fetching some other ingredient? Beats her. Not her business anyway. On the other hand, for her tho, it was the perfect opportunity. All she’s got to do now was to slip in, dump the last few chocolates into the pot, junk the empty box and then slip out again. All totally undetected. Easy. By the time he’s noticed, they’d have well melted into the soup by then and likely seeped right into the pasta itself.

Farina allowed herself a cheeky mischievous grin. She still wasn’t up for actually sharing - totally not her - but using her sweets to pull a prank? Now, that was totally her.

H.E.A.R.T. starter for @prhyst

#toaHEART2022 #prhyst #thread: choco-pasta #{i'll..uh..leave it up to you whether she gets away with it or not. i can work with it either way} #{have fun~} #{also farina's be less greedy or draw 25 challenge: farina draws whole deck.}

[cadenzardea]

“Happy birthday.” Rhys presented Reyson with a fruit tart, made with berries and fresh fruit. “I hope you like it- no eggs or dairy. My mom made tarts like this all the time when I was little, so I hope you enjoy it.”

It's not that Reyson had forgotten his birthday, it's just that– well– when one lives for centuries, each individual year isn't afforded as much significance. Fledging was a celebration, of course, but any spacing of personal life celebrations closer than a half-decade afterward was vain and superfluous. One hundred and two is not any sort of important number. It’s only been two years since his centennial, after all.

Reyson looks down at the tart, and back up to the gentle-eyed beorc offering it, and remembers he is functioning on a different calendar now.

"...Thank you."

It's a thoughtful gift. He's unsure if it's just coincidence or if Rhys remembered his dietary restrictions, but he wouldn't be surprised if it were the latter. He has ample memories of the priest tending to his allies on and off the battlefield.

"Even if it is terrible, your kindness will still be gift enough."

If the backhanded aspect of the compliment is intentional, it isn't betrayed by Reyson's simple nod of acknowledgment.

#[ ic ] #[ ask ] #prhyst #// not me mentioning a headcanon to excuse almost forgetting my own muse's birthdayyy #// also sorry he's a rudeass rhys ilu <3

[petrykos]

obliterate

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭. 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐫 suspense that hung in the air. The environment didn’t help nor raise much for conversation, for it was all overwhelming. If they hadn’t been in a disturbing lab and on a mission, she’d admire the orderliness of the room, not even a table leg out of place. The center of attention of the room however, lie in front—three large screens displaying various information, but most alarming were Laelaps words. Data deletion. 

          “Nepenthe tesserae… Something with memories.” The words from earlier surfaced in her head like washed up shells from the tide. Was that...? Were their memories going to—?

          When she opens her mouth, she is met with a glint of silver missing their heads by a hair and finding its victim in the wall instead. Two women not unlike the previous Agarthans emerge bearing their teeth in a couple of sinister smirks. The taller one pulls a staff that glowed even in harsh fluorescent medical lighting along with a vague threat. So that must have been the staff brought in conversation earlier. Anthemusa, originally belonging to Anacaona, ripped by these—

          There was little time to hesitate, the students and faculty alike began moving and with a hand placed on her hilt, Petra unsheathes the iron sword. Her eyes waver back and forth between the two—Bias seemed to be the healer with the staff while Kronya may have acted as the attacker. There was no way to predict who would fall easier or faster, but without giving any more thought, she charges toward Kronya first. 

Roll: 19; Result: 17 from Kronya’s nimble, -1.5 dmg dealt

          Her enemy’s speed was nothing to overlook, however. Luckily, Petra had been trained enough to watch her opponent’s movements and find their weak spots. When she spots the orange-haired Agarthan come after her, she is able to roll to the side, avoiding any hit, but in that same moment, Petra is able to swing her sword in her side, a critical blow. 

Next: @little-miss-manakete & @prhyst

#little miss manakete #prhyst #support: nah #support: rhys #thread: obliterate #unlockedsouthleicester2021 #toaunlocked2021 #(( calling all besties: kill )) #(( had to dig through the blog to find that one ))

[cruelsfate]

Oh, they went way back, though she seemed to have a knack for vanishing from sight during schooldays. Rhys approached with a slight nod. "Marianne, thank you for coming with us." What to say? He'd always been a bit at a loss for words regarding her, or like he'd said the wrong thing. "Our strengths are unique to us, and whatever is ahead, I have faith in you."

There is a note of irony to their conversation now, Marianne cannot help but observe. When last they met and had a proper conversation in the scorching heat of the Valley of Ailell, their mission had been to retrieve the Heroes' Relic hiding somewhere within.

Now, Blutgang, the holy blade of the beast, sits in her sheathe like some common sword. Indeed, a Heroes' Relic had come to her, instead.

“Professor Rhys, hello.” She bows her head in greeting. He should not thank her—it was hardly as though she'd been given a choice. If she had, then the coward's route would have been easier. Where Marianne was told to go, she would inevitably follow. Who was she to refuse a summons ordered by the church itself?

That aside...she is far from the only practitioner of faith magic from the assembled. Far from the best, too. If their strengths were unique to them, the mage struggles to see what is unique about a basic ability to cast. Anyone could learn magic in Fódlan. A talent for it was not special. A talent for it had not saved her allies when they needed it most.

But she does not say any of that. The professor is trying to be kind, and she'll not burden him with her thoughts. Doubtless he had numerous other things to worry himself over. “Thank you, professor. I will do my best to live up to your expectations.”

#& ㅤ * ㅤ there is something bleeding to death inside me but i don’t know what it is ㅤ / ㅤ askbox. #& ㅤ * ㅤ carry ruin like a flower or like a crown ㅤ / ㅤ in character. #& ㅤ * ㅤ fantom loews 2022 ㅤ / ㅤ event. #flmerceus2022 #prhyst

[princessmacedon]

"Maria!" It had been awhile since they'd talked, and getting a moment with her made a smile crack though his worry. "You'll be with me this time, huh?" Rhys's heart felt lighter and heavier at the same time. He wouldn't forgive himself if he lost anyone on his watch, though something about her made him feel extra protective.

Even if, frankly, she was probably better in combat than him.

"I have faith in all our friends, including you." He couldn't seem to stop talking, joy and anxiety meshing into energy that needed an outlet. "How's Cookie doing? Have you seen him? I bet we'll have a lot to talk about on the way to Fort Merceus."

"Professor Rhys!" She spins on her heels the moment she hears him, eyes already alight with joy when she lays her gaze upon him. If one were to speak of comforting faces in their newly-assembled team, Maria's certain his would be first mentioned-- and if not, then she would be the one to say it!

"I am!" A laugh there to mark her delight, though it hardly needed to be made; nevertheless, she made it. "We're going to go on an adventure together, Professor!" To see more of the world, as they both had dreamed... "I know that's not what it's about, but I'm still really happy that I get to go with you! And I've been working on my healing even more -- I promise I'll do my best to make you proud!"

Faith-- in him and (hee hee) in practice-- was a foregone conclusion; of his gentle and boundless heart, there would never be a cause to doubt. He was just Professor Rhys! And Professor Rhys would always be there for everyone, just as his bright-eyed student would always be there for him.

"Cookie's okay," she answers with a grin. "I couldn't take him with me since I still don't know how to fight that well on wyvernback... But maybe next time! Maybe we could even fly together!" Realization sparkles in her expression, eyes widened, lips quirked, and she reaches to pull something from her pocket. In the next moment, she holds out a small bag, waiting to place it into his hands. "Speaking of cookies, I made some for my sister earlier, and I thought you might like to share the extras, hee hee. Just like that time on the bridge, but we're going on a real adventure together! It'll be good luck, don't you think?"

#toafantomloews2022 #FLMerceus2022 #prhyst #i really like how sharing treats has sort of become their thing... cute little friendship habits #hehehe #she'll make you proud professor!!

[yewfallen]

the father, the son, and the holy spirit

Mission Task Board: With exams right around the corner and warm weather, it is difficult to stay focused. Maybe a little break wouldn’t be so bad? With the Great Tree Moon in session, trees’ leaves have turned a pastel pink. A little ways out of monastery grounds lies a large tree pink with leaves and… ribbons? A petite merchant with a sack twice her size informs you these ribbons are people’s wishes and hopes tied to the trees ribbons. She goes on and on about fate and destined love. She pushes a pink ribbon your way, insisting you give it a whirl. What’s the worst that could happen? [Grants Faith +1]  // @prhyst​

   It feels strange, coming back to this old habit when a letter had not been exchanged in months nor is there any guarantee that the person Febail had been holding correspondence with once upon a time would even recall such a transaction anymore after time has been reset, yet Febail tries anyhow.

Once more, the marksman takes a stop by the library and deposits a letter nearby in their once usual spot, words intended for one set of eyes only...

To: R,

Do you still remember this? Do you remember me? If you do not reply to this letter, I will assume you have no idea what I am talking about. If you do not, then there is no point in me writing anything more to you, because nothing else will make any sense to you either.

If you remember even one thing about these letters, I will take that as proof enough. I guess to start things off, there has been a new trend going around by the looks of it. The trees have these pink ribbons, supposedly tied with people's wishes and hopes.

You strike me as the type of man who would tie one of those wishes. Maybe not for yourself, but I could see it being for someone else.

...It was an anonymous letter. He could spare a bit of honesty here he wouldn't normally.

I almost tied one myself too, based on what we spoke about last, but I realized things have changed since then, if you remember.

#// penpal time again yeehaw!! lmk if anything needs changing >_0b #prhyst #+. / interactions. #+. / thread: the father the son and the holy spirit.