Halcyon

HALCYON / THE RITUALIST / HE/HIM

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SCENE: Scene TBD

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(Older lore, may archive)

"And thus I grant you life anew." The tiny Fae sets aside the bowls of anointed powders and waters, sitting back on his haunches as the massive Ridgeback stood, painted with splotches of white and blue.

"Thanks, tiny." The Ridgeback immediately starts picking at some paint on his forearm, then stops. "Sorry, uh, this is just kinda itchy-"

"Oh, don't worry, my dear ambassador. It will all wash off." The Fae cleans his hands in one of the many bowls strewn about the floor of the ceremony room.

"Oh, cool, cool. I was just wondering if that was, like- blasphemy, or something." The Ridgeback sits back down to avoid bumping his head on the ceiling.

"Of course not, it's meant to be a temporary marking. I use the same paint on my horns and claws to anoint them before ceremonies. You are free to leave when you wish, and I bid you welcome to the Winter Court." The Fae scampers into a hidden room behind the ceremonial stage, and breathes a sigh of relief.

He puts down his hood and dunks his head into a much less ornamental bucket of water, and shivers as it runs down his face. He wipes down his horns with his mantle, restoring them to their proper bright purple color. Taking off his hood and mantle, he undoes the silks around his wings and legs, carefully folding them and setting them to the side- they'll need to be bathed before the next ceremony. Lastly, he carefully undoes his white, feathered wings...

...allowing the purply-pink tentacles from his back to slither free.

He stretches all nine of his limbs- two arms, two legs, one tail, and four wispy tendrils. With practiced motions, he quickly scratches away the paint from his claws, allowing their glow to shine through. Rifling through his personal things underneath his hammock, he grabs his earrings and wing bangles, quickly clipping them into his piercings.

A short change of clothes later, you practically wouldn't have recognized the Fae. Clad in purples and greens so bright as to be blinding, he settles down in his hammock to read some of the books his dear friend brought him. It's not like anyone in the Winter Court would appreciate him being seen in his normal clothes, but they can't judge him for pajamas. And it's not like he really wanted to make a public appearance anyway- he was always antsy around other dragons, lest they figured out what squirmed behind his feathered disguise.