For The Archer, He Didn't Even Notice The Relatively Short Amount Of Time Passing. He Was Leaning Against

For the archer, he didn't even notice the relatively short amount of time passing. He was leaning against the wall when he heard her coming out of her room, his ears swiveling towards her for a moment before he turned towards her, his crystal blue eyes looking her over and...

She looked good. Really good. The white robes brought out her blue hair, her eyes, accentuated her body while hiding away her upper half of her legs, the rest hidden by custom made shoes. He trailed the red hem up, over the herb pouches under her robes, and up over that tunic. He felt his smile slowly grow, into a beaming thing, gliding over that hood, the red hems, the way it made the scarf pop more and defined her outline, and he couldn't help it.

"Well, I've seen White Mage attire before...but for some reason, you make it look even better!" He pushed off from the wall, stepping towards her, but maintaining his distance as he met her gaze, noting the way her tail flicked about, ears seemed to be dealing with a phantom feeling, and her general body language seemed comfortable and yet slightly not, most likely because of him.

He gave her a disarming smile, and pointed the little feather brooch at her, and then at the floor, and then to the ceiling, offering nonchalantly, "You know, I did pick up some carpentry from my dad. If you would like, I could cut you some boards for the floor and ceiling. Get it patched up so it isn't so damp in here. The place has, as my dad would say," he dropped his voice and placed his hands on his hips, nodding with closed eyes, "'Great bones!'" He chuckled, opening his eyes and fixing her with his gaze again as he dropped his hands back down off his sides. "But seriously, if you'd like, I could help with that. Oh! And I wanted to thank you!"

He had noticed her eyes flicking to the feather, then to his hand and the blue feather there, his flicking left than right in answer to her tail's questioning pose, holding out his hand and opening it, palm up, the brooch nestled in his palm as he watched her for her reaction. "A little something for you, for letting me see your little slice of peace and inviting me in. It's for your scarf, and I think it will bring out your eyes even more."

Normally, with a gift like this, and Kaleh'a just generally being an affable Miqo'te, he would have approached and put the brooch on. But he was, as always, cognizant of how Cyra might take the intrusion, and instead just held it out for her to take if she wanted, his eyes twinkling as he watched her.

It took her a considerably longer amount of time than she expected to get changed. Between having to redress the various superficial cuts on her arms from carelessly sticking her hands into brambles, and removing the lighter layers of her working clothes, it had taken her at least ten minutes just to get undressed. Thankfully, redressing would be quite simpler. Her robes had already been laid out earlier that morning in anticipation for needing to change. She had plans to swing by Gridania anyway to check in.

As always, Cyra wore a short-sleeved tunic underneath the knee-length white robe. Hempen trousers and some custom-made shoes that did well to hide her curiously shaped feet helped keep most of her unusual features hidden. All that was left was her belt to secure her herb pouches, and other quick access belongings, and she was ready to go. She pulled her scarf a little tighter around her neck, and gently straightened out the rest of her clothes. Finally, her healing visage was complete. She wasn't much of a fan of the red trim around the cuff of the sleeves, the hood, and the hem of the robe, but it was traditional wear for the White Mages of eld.

As she was fixing her hood, she heard the creak of the floorboards just beyond the wall of her room. As most guests do, curiosity had captured Kaleh'a's mind and pressed him to seek out further information by poking around. Though it seemed he kept himself relatively civil as she heard his weight earn the floor's audible protest on his way back to the front room. She was more nervous about the fact that her bedroom was lacking a door, as its original use was more of a study than a bedroom. This place was never made to accommodate overnight stays.

With a sigh, she grabbed her staff and made her way back out to the front room. She decided against confronting him about poking around. After all, she didn't have many personal items laying out in the open. In fact, she had very little to display at all. She had only been staying there for a few weeks at that point. Cyra's tail flicked as she appeared at the end of the hallway. Her ears flicking this way and that as they readjusted how the fur sat uncomfortably on her skin. Anytime she had to pull something over her head, they would flick until satisfied.

"Right," She breathed. "Shall we?" She offered him a nervous grin to try and ease the awkward tension. As she stepped closer to the door, she noticed a flash of brilliant blue in his hand. Her eyes only remained on it for a moment as she studied the missing section from the feather in his quiver. Curious, her tail flicked out to her side in silent inquiry.

13th-dragon-prince--[Prior]

“You do not own me. No one. Will own me again.” A breath, a shake as he tried so hard to speak in the format that made his throat quiver, that made him think of hidden years, of prodding collars, but he needed to be clear. “That does not change my customs. It is. My choice.” Too much eye contact with the feelings that crawled over his spine. The Runt looked away. “Whillow Trusts Bryn.”

︻デ═一・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Bryn's steps slowed, step by step as he approached Featherflame, his boots making softer sounds until they stopped, just at the end of the bridge, his mind replaying the look he had seen on Whill's face, the way his body had curled up, hands close to the chest, tail low, and his eyes, moons of silver. He stood there, and after a moment, tilted his head up, eyes closed, letting out a long, slow breath, calming that raging anger within, muzzling it, ensuring it was at bay when Whillow approached, that he had the time to listen and process his words.

He turned, only after he knew he was calm, his head tilting down, eyes opening, and holding the gecko's gaze with his own. He watched as the little dragon looked up at him, met his gaze with a stare that was...colder, more calculating than usual. Their was nervousness behind those eyes, but at the same time, there was conviction, belief, an attempt to understand, and Bryn realized...he could at least try to do the same.

The start was a pleasant change, his eyes glimmering slightly at the words, at the admission that he would never allow someone to own him again. He felt that anger, the distaste, for Whill, not towards him, his breath slowly drawing in as he was about to argue over the customs and where the little dragon was now, but it all rushed out in an instant at those last words.

Whillow Trusts Bryn.

Trust. How could he trust? What could possibly... "You barely know me. How..." He stepped closer, his hand lifting, slipping under Whill's chin, lifting it, forcing him to look at him as he stared into those slitted eyes. "What proof do you have...that I won't hurt you?"

His eyes were serious, focused, unwavering, refusing to let Whillow go, to let him look away, until he answered, his heart beat still coming down from the earlier burst of action.

Question for Brynhorn: how did you find your way into being a spy? How do you feel about being an agent? What's the worst part about being an agent?

Bryn paused, thinking for a moment, collecting his thoughts before answering with an amused look. "My work in the Eorzean Alliance was essentially spying, just within the realm of the military. I was a scout, and often worked alone, even received the rank of Sergeant specifically so I could work alone. When the Seventh Umbral Calamity occurred, I felt it was time to retire, the enemy I was used to fighting no longer a large threat, and I wanted some peace. Well, until I bumped into Thancred and the Scions."

He paused again, and stroked his chin, before continuing. "Thancred convinced me that there was still more to be done, and that my skills could be easily translated to the more classical spy role. Attention to detail came easily, and the ability to remain unseen could be taught. I begrudgingly travelled to Sharlayan when rumors of a new Garlean threat rose, trained, and within a year was again on my own, this time as a spy inside a Castrum."

His silver eyes flicked to the faceless one, before he chuckled and summed up his answer. "You could say my spying days started because I wanted to finish the fight I had started as a soldier, all because someone asked me to. And honestly, I feel comfortable in that position. It can be harsh, or unforgiving, but the good it does..."

He trailed off, then cleared his throat and sighed, his head already shaking. "The worst part is forcing yourself to do things you never would have done if you weren't an embedded agent. It takes a iron will, and stomach, to go along with the atrocities of your enemy, all while protecting yourself and your mission. I know some things will follow me to my grave..."

His eyes were solemn, but he managed to let out a slow breath, and resume his customary half scowl, fixing the anonymous with a stare that echoed his words. "Anything else?"

Android meanwhile:

Popup, "You're ten days out of date! Want to update right now? No questions asked, three minutes, in and out."

Three minutes later.

"Welcome back! Enjoy your update!"

13th-dragon-prince--[Prior]

So consequence was a myth in his mind, pushing only to make his companion’s brow furrow in that delicious way, those silver pools threatening with the unspoken and leashed. Control so finely tuned it would take more than his idle prodding to break. “Any-Thing Bryn says, Whillow will do.” He side eyed the other for a moment, fully knowing the notion of the tone, before shifting his expression to an innocent smile. “Earned Command! Rules of Hunt.”

︻デ═一・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It was hard not to think about what had just happened.

Hard not to think about the teasing the gecko had dealt. Or the rise it had gotten from Bryn.

It was hard to not think that perhaps, he was giving the little dragon exactly what he wanted.

The steady thud of his boots was joined after a moment by the click of claws, hearing and feeling Whillow headbutt his back, a half skip step to ensure he didn't fall, as he shot a little glance at the gecko who was now walking next to him, half of annoyance and half what was that for? He certainly still didn't understand the little dragon completely, but that grin was concerning, suggesting that the soldier's sudden reaction had only encouraged, not concerned, his silver eyes watching the La’Mellae for a long moment before refocusing on the path before him. It was a silent walk, most of the way, only the sounds of their feet rising between them, the light clack of his rifle on his back, and the swish of a long tail. It wasn't until they had reached that long bridge that Whill broke the silence, and Bryn turned his head slightly to listen.

"Yes, you will train with me." He let that silence fall back for a moment, thinking back to training he had once done before, remembering how it had gone, what it was like. Then, he had worked to build someone up, from nothing into something, to shape and help her learn her strengths, and weaknesses. Even then, what lurked beneath had peaked through, increasing his speed, matching the slight Miqo'te's, strength already beyond hers, and skills honed from his time on the battlefield. It was unfair, from start to finish, but with Whillow... He was a beast, in a literal and figurative sense, his speed and slight frame making him deadly, but his strength was well beyond what his body should be able to produce. It was dangerous, deceptive, and made him a unique person to train against, to learn, and perhaps teach a few more deadly skills to the dragon that the Silver Wolf had learned.

His guarded gaze travelled along that petite body as they walked, and that teasing voice continued, his eyes snapping up, his brow furrowing, eyes narrowing at the dragon as he nearly, nearly pulled up right there, at least until his mind curled around the statement and a tiny, little smirk appeared, his voice a low rumble as he said, "Anything?" He paused, letting it linger, and then continuing. "So I could tell you to stop pouncing on people?"

He watched, he observed, he scouted the expression on the little dragon's face, knowing full well it was one of the things he thoroughly enjoyed doing, wondering exactly how far this "anything" offer went.

⭐️ my roleplay pet peeves

🖼 my favorite types of characters

Stares at the star. Intense sweating.

Uh, alright, let's see, my pet peeves with roleplay... Oh man I'm struggling. Meta-ing would definitely be one. There are ways to read body language and say how your character is feeling, but you can't just read the other character's mind! Well, unless your OC can, then that's another discussion lol. The only other one would really be when you put time and effort into a response, and all of it is just ignored in the response. I haven't had that happen but once, and not here. But yah, can't think of others off the top of my head! Oh, well, one more. Low-effort response. Ever written a nice long response and gotten two sentences back? Tumblr has been great about not doing that! Great job RP tumblr!

Ahh and my favorite types of characters! I love them all. But I definitely have a special affinity for those dark, gritty characters that have to make the hard choices and live with them. You'll see that with Bryn, while my other favorite type is definitely Kaleh'a's trope of a happy go-lucky, experienced but not broken soul. Especially if you through them both together! Fun times are certain to ensue!