AU: Wingtalia

Subject: AU: Wingtalia September 8th 2013, 3:28 pm

((About:: Wingtalia is an AU that consists of the nations as creatures with wings that resemble those of various bird species, appearing almost like angels. They age in the same way as the ordinary nations would, but don't need to eat or sleep as much. There are many different variations of wingtalia created by different artists, but I would recommend reading the page link below on one of the more detailed versions of it. (Though this AU will not be including the whole country guardian thing on there) Feel free to find your character on there too and base the wing design on the ones the artist created.

http://wingtalia.tumblr.com/Whatiswingtalia ))

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The early morning was crisp and the gentle breeze was welcomed. Birds had already begun to flock the skies, filling the surroundings with gentle song, and an air of tranquility blanketed the town that Matthias could see from his perch. The oak he rested on was twisted and old, but was still adorned with a plethora of leaves, making it the ideal place for the winged creature to admire the town without the fear of being discovered by it's inhabitants.

Matthias didn't quite know what his kind were called. All he was aware of was the fact that there were a reasonable amount of them scattered across the land, and that they were all required to hide from the humans. Where the requirement had originated from he wasn't sure, but all of them followed it in fear of being hunted and shot down from the skies as they flew. Matthias doubted whether or not he'd waste time speaking with the humans, anyway; some of them seemed like awful characters to spend time with.

When the wind's speed picked up and the tree began to quiver restlessly, Matthias decided that it was time to make his leave. With a quick shake of his broad shoulders to loosen the dead leaves snagged on his feathers, he spread his wings and swiftly began his escape from the town, hoisting himself out of the branches he had settled down in and heading towards the woods to his north, seeking the safety and comfort of the thick canopy the dense trees there provided.

Guest

Yao had been flying above the forest that the other angel had been resting in. He didn't know the other was down there, in fact he couldn't recall when he had seen another like himself.

As the gusts picked up suddenly, he adjusted his wings so as not to be thrown tumbling in the air. Once he was adjusted, he noticed another angel flying up from the forest below. He got a little excited and banked around and flew towards him. "Hey!" He called.

Guest

Wings. They had their ups and their downs. Mainly it was the preening that got to Marc. It would be a bit easier if he had, say, a beak like a bird, but for now he’d just have to settle for picking out any loose and annoying feathers by hand. He was just glad there wasn’t many to pick out and at least the spot he had chosen to do so—a rather tall boulder that was perfect for basking in the midday sun—was comfortable. Besides, after a long flight, just about any surface would be received as a welcoming refuge.

Extending his light brown wings backwards, Marcello leaned back on his hands with a soft groan and stretched his legs and toes away from the rest of his body. Ah….yeah…that was the spot. With a content sigh and a smile, his wings folded back around him like a blanket against the outside world. In truth, this was probably the furthest he had ever explored. Most of the time, Marco just remained in his ‘own’ sector watching the humans and longing for some sort of interaction. That interaction never came and it was forbidden to speak with ‘wing-challenged’ beings that inhabited the lands he called home. It was more than frustrating, he had to admit, but it was something he had learned to live with all his life.

Maybe not anymore.

Hearing a faint call from above, the Italian looked toward the sky. Bringing an arm up to shield his eyes from the bright sun, he squinted into the pale blue heavens and made out two larger winged figures among the smaller birds of the air. Perhaps that was why he had felt such a strong urge to come to this place in particular—it had more of his kind (or it seemed that way at least).

Unfurling his wings once again, Marco rolled his shoulders and stretched toward the sky before taking a running jump from the boulder. He wasn’t nearly high enough to immediately take flight, but once his bare feet hit the soft green blades of grass below, the took off running again, managing to hitch a ride on an updraft, which brought him closer to the other two beings. “Ciao!” He greeted both of them, though his voice would likely only carry as a faint call due to his distance. “I guess that-a you both live around here?” his voice and words grew a bit louder and clearer as he closed in. He was close enough now that one could see his beaming countenance as well as that curious curl springing out of the side of his head.

Subject: Re: AU: Wingtalia September 14th 2013, 6:32 pm

A small dirt cloud puffed up from the dry ground, the patch of grassless dirt being in the direct sunlight beneath a large oaken tree. The dust cloud simply kept growing as the minutes went by from the dark shape that was currently with in it, a little laugh echoing from the dust cloud as two large brown, black, orange, and green wings flared out from the cloud. Wellesley gave a firm few flaps with his long fluffy wings in order to rid the dust from around him and shake his body to rid the rest of dirt from his body. By gods that was a good bath.. reaching up a slight filthy hand to ruffle his hair clean of dust the fairly young Kea, or so he called himself due to how similar said bird's wings looked ever so similar to his own, cast his bright green eyes to the sky with an echoing laughter od 'kea-a-a-a'.

Wellesley stood up from the dust ground and went to fix up the loose shirt he adorned, making sure the knott in the back between his wings hadn't come undone to expose his top half to anything with gentle chirps in delight that it had kept together. Fanning out his wings once more for a final shake the New Zealand Angel looked upwards to hear the sound of wings flapping against the air and hummed in delight as his sharp gaze took note of the others of his kind... So it was right to have migrated here like his gut had insisted...

Feeling a sudden bit of shyness come over him as the others flew overhead the young male was quick to hide under the oak, flapping his wings to get up between the tree branches in order to hide. Wellesley let out a gentle noise to himself and settled on a sturdy branch, moving some leaves out of the way to continued to watch the others fly around.

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Feathers fell in a constant pattern from up a high branch the creaked in protest of the weight that sat upon it. Each feather was ruffled, some were bent, each were plucked from the entanglement of twigs and leaves. Harold was hardly bothered as he plucked each feather that was bent out of place or had fallen out but stuck against the other damaged plumes from his small wings. A small triumphant smile spread across his visage, what little of a reward he got from his accomplishment. If you could call it an accomplishment. One thing is for sure; the landing was not an accomplishment.

It started on the highest point he could find, one with water pooling deeply far below, and ended with a few broken branches, ruffled feathers, and aching bones. The dive was the best part, his favourite. His wings were pressed tightly against his body to prevent any air from catching underneath them as he fell head first towards the ground. The goal was to fall as far as possible before slowly - very slowly, otherwise the air would fling you off course - opening your wings. As the air rushed quickly below you'd begin to level out, when this happens you want to then aim up to the sky.

That last part was were Harold failed. His calculations - not that he made any calculations of course, that would require work - did not account for the height of the trees that grew exceptionally tall. His climb up to the sky was slow and gradual after he had leveled from the fall, but the speed was impressive. Maybe too impressive for the environment around him. He crashed through the trees, twigs and leaves scratched at his face and got caught in his wings. His attempts of dodging the branches had only made him crash right into one, winding him as it snapped. This was where the tree 'offended' him. As he fell he coincidentally fell on to a few more branches, snapping each one as if he weighed as much as an elephant.

Despite his overstatement on his weight, he was still upset with the tree as it creaked with each of his movements while he shifted up to sit the the branch. His everywhere hurt, but it was worth it. He had been practising the jump for so many days, some attempts resulted in a nice bath, some never even happened, others were panic-filled flights back up to the jump. All those failed attempts led to the triumphant celebration of plucking feathers out from his wings he now enjoyed.

Harold spread out his wings, flapping them a few times before he decided to take-off. He glided quietly through the trees, observing the startled animals and wreckage of branches and leaves he left along his trail as he made his way back to the pool of water he used as a safety precaution. He landed by the water's edge more gracefully than his previous landing in the trees. He curled his toes in the grass and damp moss, glad to be on the ground and not long after he waded into the pool sighing in relief at the touch of the cool water.