sereneslearne

[sereneslearne]

Rhodos Coast boasts a sight she wishes she could witness in warmer times. Pearl Shoals is no different in her desire to see when the sun is not tucked beneath such chill ridden clouds. Leanne is grateful to the layers she was offered, the furs denied wholesale and offered to others who’d likely take more solace in that warmth than she.

The people on the streets stare; she’s growing more accustomed to it, the thoughts on whether the wings she’s always commanded are actually real and the thoughts of – no, those were not thoughts she was used to. How much her wings would… sell for?!

Small peep leaves the heron as shudder runs through her bones at such a horrible thought.

Tightening white wings to her body did not stop the young hand that so desperately wanted a feather. She can oblige this once.

At least she thinks so.

Hand she presumes aimed for feather, presumes belonging to child aims for the pouch at her side and she is only grateful that small thief is quick and causes such little scene.

She however cannot be without that! Oh she doesn’t know how she’d face Tibarn if she had to tell him such a thing!

Turning on her heel she follows after the glee ridden heart caused directly by distress brought upon her with a pout.

“You can’t just have that!!”

There are too many people to use her wings and under such heavy pelts, she truly does not wish to run but it is far more favorable to endure a nap later than to explain that on her first outing she lost all of her funds.

@misledusine

what if you just steal another || zephia + leanne

pearlescent // faith +1

[sereneslearne]

📜 + Easy

“Of course, ‘easy’ mainly refers to something that might come naturally to you, without much effort,” Ingrid said. She glanced at Leanne. “Like… flying, for you, I would assume?”

Ingrid reached high up and scratched beneath her mare’s ears. Quella huffed in her stall and leaned the slightest bit into Ingrid’s fingertips, tail high. She brimmed with restless energy, having had less time outside the past few days. Ingrid looked forward to a long ride today.

“‘Easy’ can also be used with horses though,” she continued to Leanne, and added with a small smile, “Or particularly rowdy people. It can help them calm down. See—easy, girl. Eaaasy.” Ingrid cooed the words to the mare, who huffed but dropped her head down a bit, square with Ingrid’s palm.

Ingrid nodded at Leanne. “You can try, if you’d like. She’s gentle.” And so, Ingrid sensed, was Leanne; her demeanor was kind and light. The horses, so attuned to the energy of those around them, were sure to take well to her.

"M -- mmhm!" Leanne's head turns to the side and a finger scratches at her cheek. She -- she was working on it! She was already doing better now that before but resting for so long has its downsides. If such an earnest girl saw the other bird tribe members... Leanne would be put to shame handily. It's a small gesture, for herself mostly.

Hands make little fists and she nods to herself before turning back to her teacher for the moment.

"Easy! Singing easy!" Oh, how she'd love to but there was choir practice later.

The steed that accompanies them is beautiful and eager, a field would make her happy.

"Eaaasy... " Watching as the horse's mannerisms changed, she wonders if this might actually prove useful with those who inevitably ended up in her care.

Leanne's hand rests under the horse's chin and she smiles softly. "Eaaaasy... girl... "

She raises her other hand to rest upon the top of the horse's nose and feels such energetic spirit calm for a bit.

"Good girl."

[sereneslearne]

Leanne's green eyes can't wrest themselves away.

"Ike! You-" She breathes in then out. Small steps, she was too excited. "You're learning too?" She continued at slower pace.

"Fodlan... many people, right?" She peers into him, only a little. "It is fate!"

That wasn't the word she wanted.

"This place is so peaceful, have you been here long?" She wants to practice, however it wasn't every day an old missing friend appeared.

She ushers him closer, squatting back down by the lakeside.

birds of a feather

[sereneslearne]

It is peaceful. She is glad she made her way to this place, but things have been... loud. The flow of water is calming to her ears, it almost reminds her of home.

Her she stretches out and so too do her wings.

A familiar voice pulls her from the lake. Her head turns and she is met with messy blue locks and an unmistakable heart.

"Ike! So this is where you've gone!" She can not tell which joy is stronger, that he is here or that he is safe.

"... a long time." She has to at least try. Ike likely understood most of her intentions by now, but the people of Garreg Mach had no such history. "Glad! Ike here."

"You left so suddenly..."

birds of a feather

[sereneslearne]

📜 + V.I.P

“It’s an acronym, meaning Very Important Person.” Anna wavered, unsure if ‘person’ had different connotations to someone who had wings like this lady did. What were they called again? They had a different name she had heard occassionally, but she couldn’t remember it off the top of her head. “Of course, what a ‘person’ is may differ, but I consider all my friends Very Important Persons. Including you!”

"Person!" Leanne holds a hand over her chest and lets the other point to the young woman. "People."

Her heart stutters and though her brows are pinched she smiles. They were all people so person was fine! A word for everyone, that was a good word.

But that's not what's being taught.

She takes a breath. "Ve-ry im-por-tan-t person."

"Vip?" Leanne hums, that wasn't how she said it though. "Ve I Pe?"

"You Ve I Pe!"

[sereneslearne]

📜+honor

Forsyth has gotten used to the myriad of people who attend Garreg Mach, but it still fills him with wonder to see a person with such striking white wings and flaxen hair. She's quite friendly, though she seems to struggle with the spoken language here. He wonders what her native tongue is like--maybe softer, almost songlike, from her accent?

Forsyth is a knight, first and foremost, but he's never quite shook his scholarly upbringing. His literacy and vocabulary have always been above his peers, whether it was at the village, the Deliverance, even at Garreg Mach depending on the company he keeps.

"Lady Leanne, I've heard you are trying to expand your vocabulary." Are those words too complex? She seems to have a good grasp of understanding spoken word, at least. "As a knight and one with much knowledge of this language, I would be honored to assist!"

...hm. So, what word? Well, perhaps he can start with one he's already established?

"By honored, I mean I am proud to be able to help teach you. It is a privilege or special opportunity. But honor can have other applications! My honor as a knight is my reputation, my good word. And to honor someone is to show respect! It is a versatile word that can be put to good use."

Perhaps it would have been better to pause and let the young woman ask questions, but she can ask them now! Probably. And he can repeat himself if he needs to. Ah, the life of a lecturer is a tough one...

Wings perk as an unfamiliar voice calls to her and she turns and takes in the man's face. Her head tilts to the side and curls gently fall from her shoulder. "Y-yes?"

Vocabulary. She remembers thinking that it might be to forward to ask how it was said in modern tongue, but it is all that saves her understanding of the words of the jovial knight before her.

Leanne believes herself to have some grasp, but he deluge of words, known and unknown, bid her invite herself into his heart instead. Honor?

"Honor.... ed." She repeats it back to herself slowly. "Leanne, honored -- ah! Is honored!" Those little words are really important!

Her hands clasp together in front of her dress and her wings settle comfortably behind her. "You're very well spoken... sorry."

"I... trouble you..." Eyes of gentle grass find him. "Thank you."

[sereneslearne]

📜 + story

Bruno slides the book over to Leanne. It's a small one, the leather binding and cover comprising most of the book's height.

"This is a story." He flips through the pages decorated with winding descriptions of historical heroes, fighting their way through enemy lands. "It talks about the journeys and conflicts of fictional, made-up people. I'm not fond of this book, unfortunately, so you are welcome to keep it if you desire. Otherwise, I have more to share."

Her hand rests on the... spine of the book before he starts to turn its pages. Words, some she recognizes, others she isn't sure she can even begin to understand, fill her eyes and her mind turns wondering what it is they weave within the imaginations of others.

"Story." She gets that word. Then a deluge of others overwhelm her ears. Leanne stares at him, lost, before closing her eyes and seeking to see better.

History with banners and swords free from truth, an unsatisfying story that tells little of what this man wished to know.

Her hand rests over a page and she opens her eyes with a smile. "Thank you." She speaks slowly. "More good!"

If such tales were not the sort he liked, what were the ones he did? She hopes one day she might read them properly.

[sereneslearne]

"Good!" She did not know how to soothe him. So much swirled within him, it felt like a cry she alone could not answer, could not contain within the span of her wings.

Distrust runs so rampant within his heart. Of himself? Of Others? "Why..."

Her breath was hesitant. She had to calm herself before she calmed him. What would he think if she were to end up with tears in her eyes?

"Leanne... you protect." Herons would never be known for their strength. Her arms moved from his forearms and round his middle regardless, tightening and yet feeling like nothing but a loosely fit belt.

"My feathers your fletching." As many as it too, she would offer.

Her arms fade as do her wings as she steps back away from him.

"You... teach." The bow left forgotten by their feet is picked up and held out. "Or you protect... I support."

"No matter what, I will live." The storm behind her eyes seeps into her posture. All the strength she holds in her heart would flow to where it needs to.

"You." Even now she finds herself pausing even with the words she know. Eyes the color of serene canopy look to hold, to shield his from where ever they may be. Her voice is light as she steps forward. "Please."

we make our own ends || andrei + leanne

🌱

[sereneslearne]

She looks on in awe.

"Modern speech is fuck-ing hard." She knows there are certain words she has yet to learn, really important ones at that, She hears them often, included in places where she thinks they should go but it feels... unwise to simply throw them around like that.

"You're good at this Soren." Leanne feels at ease a little. The word she gains is fun, Soren uses it so joyously, but more than anything... it feels nice to talk.

"Chu-ckle-fucks?" She hums. "That's an insult, yes?"

“It depends.  Modern speech is fucking hard, as in this is very difficult, or modern speech fucks hard, as in you're having fun learning new words,” soren replies.  he carries a small smile, already proud his efforts were bearing fruit.

“Allow me.  It's been fucking hot outside of late, and all the chucklefucks running around the monastery have been un-fucking-believable in their ability to do fuck all.”

[sereneslearne]

The feeling in this man's heart is different. His awe feels... less possessive. Her own heart beats with a note of wishing to protect this child.

"Real wings." She lets it rest gently against his shoulder before retreating them back to herself. They were real and yet she still had fully returned to flight with them. How she wishes she could show him such a sight.

Such pleas for safety had long since been taken to heart. Her life was secured by sacrifice she could not hope to repay and kept the people who she can only repay if she stays alive. "Yes."

There is more however... a fallen pegasus? Her heart sinks as a regret she feels as if her own settles itself. Her brows pinch together slightly and she wonders how he manages to keep a straight face. How many times has he replayed that scene? How many has he had to leave behind? How many has he shot down himself for the sake of his own life.

What cause would her feathers be devoted to? She doesn't know when she places her hands onto his arms or why she squeezes gently and lets the ends of her wings touch upon his back.

"You protect?" So much she wants to say can't be expressed.

"I... support you."

@ulircursed

we make our own ends || andrei + leanne

🌱

[sereneslearne]

So she did have it right!

Then came the rest of it. Versatility was going to make this a fun, albeit difficult one to use. He was telling her to use it right now?

Leanne hums and rests her hand beneath her chin.

"Modern speech...fuck hard?" Expectant eyes fall onto Soren.

"Was that right?"

soren's grasp on the ancient tongue is lacking.  Part of him wishes he could speak it as well as she, so perhaps in teaching her a word he hopes to learn something himself.  Fortunately, the language isn't a huge barrier.  he knows many words already, and it's easy to sense the feelings around the sentences to fill in the gaps of what's missing.

“It's a very good word,” he responds.  "It is the single most versatile word in our tongue.  As you can already tell.  You can use it to rebuke something.  As a verb, it means to have sex.  As an adverb, it enhances the intensity of a sentence.  You can combine it with many nouns in order to craft an insult of your choosing, and even insert it in the middle of words to intensify the feeling they conjure, too.

“Why don't you experiment?”

[sereneslearne]

📜 + “sweetheart”

“Hmm, what does it mean? Well, I’d use it to describe you,” Mercedes says, handing Leanne a bowl of freshly washed grapes. She leans against the counter with a serene smile. “Those grapes are tasty, yes? Very sweet.”

“We talk of the heart as the centre of love and emotion, too. So calling someone a sweetheart means you think they’re kind and feel affection towards them,” She approaches Leanne slowly, careful not to startle her. Reaching out, she swipes her thumb through the flour upon Leanne’s cheek, brushing it away. “Here’s an example: Leanne helped me bake these cookies today, she’s a real sweetheart!”

Pink dusts her cheeks before her hands can cover them and she is even offered a gift! Her heart yearns. It was so long ago in reality, maybe even in her mind now but she remembers that peace fondly.

She doesn't think she's had this variety of grape before. Green and clear as opposed to purplish red, she slips it into her mouth and begins to chew.

Leanne cringes. "Sour!" Her focus slips momentarily as she swallows the rest of it down and she wonders if she has simply chosen a bad one.

"Sweetheart... " As she rubs her cheek, this woman's heart is warm, so full of care, of a serenity that speaks to trial that could not have been easy.

She hardly notices how enamored she is until thumb wipes away what she had not even realized was there.

"Mercedes a real sweetheart." The words are soft as her hands reach to keep Mercedes' on her cheek.

"To endure so much and extend so far, you have a beautiful heart."

[sereneslearne]

📜+ Ghost

“A Ghost is the lingering spirit of a dead person, usually haunting the area they call their resting ground.” She speaks enthusiastically, with a lot of theatrics.

“Most people find them horribly frightful, but I personally adore them! They are ever so charming and fascinating.” She claps her hands in delight, a big smile on her face.

Her heart is clear and her words speak through her hands, through her being entirely. Leanne is hardly one to refuse a joining in on such wonderous feeling.

Where words are a bit hard to recall right, the ones she does are positively terrifying. Her chest hurts and yet as such elated voice spoke, she would not allow herself to fall into her own ideas.

"Ghost!" She tries to be just as enthusiastic, hopes to the goddess that she's said the word right.

"F-frightful..." Calming the highs of the atmosphere, eyes of evergreen grass fell to the pavement.

"Spirits...safe. Good." She looks back over to the enthusiastic woman who was dressed most adorably. "Spirits protect."

"Ghosts good!" If they were spirits that stayed then they would simply have to honor them as they need be... a ghost -- a spirit -- wouldn't harm those who didn't harm it. With heart still, she can say she truly believes that.

[sereneslearne]

📜 + fletching

"You have a bow." Andrei remembers the flimsy make, the same kind that the monastery had given him when he'd first arrived in this land. The young woman's build and dress doesn't suggest any background in archery, however — are those wings for decoration? It seems rather impractical on a battlefield.

"If you plan on using it, ensure you have the fletching secured," he tilts a hand towards the end of the arrows, "Those. Made from feathers, like those on your... wings. The fletching is what straightens the path of the arrows."

"Bow." She isn't sure why she has this. If she pulls back the string with any sort of strength, a pain threatens to snap her arm in two. The church had given it to her though, rather had insisted she pick from an array and it seemed... least want to leave her struggling to stand.

She holds the training bow steady in her hands. Was she ever going to use it? No.

"Fl-etch-ing." The word is odd. When his attention turns to her feathers, she extends out a wing around him and shakes it till a few unpruned feathers fall.

One such feather settles upon his head and she plucks it off, offering it to him.

"You... use bow?" If he was telling her this, he must have.

While a bow wasn't useful in her hands, maybe the feathers she shed could prove useful to the ones who used them.

"My feathers... your fletching?"

[sereneslearne]

📜 + 'fuck'

She stares. She's heard that word often back when she was around the mercenaries. Leanne likes to believe she knows what it means.

"F-fuck?" She doesn't think she should be saying this.

"Soren... are you sure this is a good word?" She raises an eyebrow and her hands land square on her hips. Ike said it sometimes so it couldn't be that bad of a word and it wasn't always bad.

"Fuck... many other," her mind was suddenly blanking. "Many other." Try as she might, she couldn't exactly explain this with her hand. "It means many things!"

"Yes?" She really hopes he gets what she means...

[sereneslearne]

📜 "Mature."

Lysithea crosses her arm with a small smirk. Is this… a little rude? Maybe. But she wants to have someone say this about her.

"It's for people who are smarter than their age. Like me."

"Not old? Ma-tu-re?" When one considers most laguz... would it not be near impossible to achieve that? Was Naeluchi not ma-tu-re because he was old? She hums as she ponders the young girl in front of her.

"Miss," Leanne begins as she points to the young resolute maiden. "Ma-ture."

She looks too hard for a moment and on impulse, her hand gently finds the girl's shoulder.

"No matter what it is people say, you have a strong heart. You've braved so much for your youth." The words carry with them not a note of understanding, not pity or any such looking down on her. An envy runs through her. Would she have been able to still be here had she not been laid to rest?

"Like you, ma-ture."

[sereneslearne]

📜

“Hmm? This is charcoal. I use it for all my sketches.” He holds up his current landscape drawing. “Like so.”

Leanne's head tilts to the side. She reaches out to touch the small black pencil and as she does, it stains her fingers. "Char coal."

She doesn't understand the discomfort that tries to settle within her so the heron is grateful when green eyes are enveloped within the environment, the recreation of a place witnessed by this man.

Careful is the hand that points to it. "Pretty." The charcoal stained hand that touched her chest, warmed by the sight, is not so cautious. "Alive."

She could feel the heart in it, the care put into it. "...char coal... often?" Her smile is bright. She wants her excitement to shine through. "I want to watch one day!"