#; avaere

[resolutepath]

hc + ❓honestly i am sort of curious as to how elio deals with potential grief, for while the stellaron hunters seem to be a relatively strong organization in terms of members, i am a little curious as to how elio would deal with the potential of losing one member in combat. does elio grieve? how does elio cope with potential feelings tied to this?

So I've touched upon this in the headcanon Elio and What he Doesn't Talk About but there's so much more I can delve into with this. So firstly, yes Elio does see events and instances where one of the Stellaron Hunters might be lost to combat. The very first thing that Elio does is scours the paths of fate. Usually Elio is restrained, keeps within its limits, and uses only a modicum of Destiny's gaze. When it comes to the Stellaron Hunters, all bets are off. Elio will search until it can confirm whether the death is a fixed point or a changeable event. This will then leave Elio bedridden due to over taxation of the powers, a state it usually only allows Kafka and occasionally Blade to see it in, though I could see Elio gradually allowing Sunday too to view this. This is a must happen because Elio might discover a way around it that allows all the Stellaron Hunters to survive and he will selfishly choose to work towards that go unless the consequences of that survival give Nanook too much ground.

In that case, Elio will have a decision to make. And this is where Elio begins the process of separation from the rest of the team as he works out what is a must. Isolation might be a few hours, it might be a day, it might be a week, but Elio will not interact with any of the other team members while processing this. Because here is where Elio has to be heartless and put the good of the universe before its own desires. Which they will do, and have done, but that requires a complete vacuum as Elio plays 3D chess to find the solution.

Should the outcome be positive in the favour of the Stellaron Hunter, Elio begins to work to create meticulous scripts and have them executed but explains nothing of what just occurred. It is important for Elio to keep the guise of freedom clearer than it might be. The truth is the extent of what he sees would terrify others so he internalises it, keeps it quiet, does not talk about it. But he will be intense on the workload for days before switching to lethargic as the burst of activity catches up with him.

If the outcome is less favourable Elio will reintegrate but continue business as usual, yet there will be an air about him that simply says don't ask. This does not only occur when grieving, it can also be when Nanook has thwarted them, so it doesn't immediately point to death. And Elio gives nothing away. He continues to write the scripts, continues to issue instructions and lets business resume. However, there are moments when Elio is caught in a daze, a tea before him long since gone cold, or times Elio disappears off into one of his vessels so he can be permitted a little bit of mortality and be angry or scream or sob at how unfair the world is away from the person Elio is. And then he works to make sure their deal is met before their demise so that he might at least fulfil his word.

In the days that come after death, Elio operates as usual. Unwavering, steadfast, as the rest of the team grieves. But he does store his memories of that team member in his case of memories in bubble form and he will adapt something of them into one of his vessels, or create a new one with some of their likeness so he might not forget them. It is robotic the way he works but he has long since learnt that he is not allowed to stop, that destiny will not wait, it demands its audience, and he is within his chains.

hc + ❓ for a headcanon of the receiver's choice // @avaere

[yoakkemae]

"Okay, you're... not making any sense. Go to bed." It's time for our annual Lavi to Kanda interaction

' shut up , ' he snaps , even though lavi isn't exactly wrong. he's been wired for the past two days , still hyped up on adrenaline from the previous fights. ( it's odd in a way. he wouldn't say that he relaxes after he kills akuma , but he's never been unable to sleep after either ). ' if you don't have anything useful to say , don't say anything at all. '

[iniziare]

For as intriguing as it was to run into familiar faces of days that, truly, were not simply yesterday, Emmrich would not deny that it had been a little relieving to see the Not so young (anymore) Lord in place far better than ... some potentially would have wished him. Even thinking about it had the professor smiling to himself, head shaking slowly as there'd be a parting with a letter that would, with time, wind up in the hands of Dorian Pavus.

Young Lord Pavus, Surely, my penmanship will humor you even now, if you have mastered the art of reading - if my memory serves me correct - crow's feet so crooked not even crows themselves would be able to make use of them. It would serve you well to be informed that 'a crow' has found himself incapable of handling the 'skill' of my pen, he would much prefer I write my regards, requests and comments in codes. That way, he - according to himself - would at least be able to decipher it. Alas, were I to write you solely to humiliate my own writing, the letter would've served better in the form of a conversation over tea, like most old friends, foes and familiar faces do. I wished to you write to you, as I will admit that our brief meetings have not quite satisfied my curiosity in regards to the path your life took. You looked well, more... achieved? As if Life's mysteries have come to unravel and fold back into a clearer path. Have you been well? Have you finally grasped the ties to afterlife, death and its endearing nature? I would not be surprised if you had reached such a point in your pursuit of power that you would stand toe to toe with me in terms of knowledge, in fact, I would applaud it. You were always so clever, even when your regards for the dead were... not quite what I'd like (soothe a stirring heart, do tell me you have at least attempted some gentler approach to those souls you reach out to? If not, I would encourage them to remind you that you are not above them, merely a spout for their energy). Words should be had between us, eye to eye, as I would much more prefer to witness the more present chapters of Dorian Pavus, the troublemaker and headache (as some of my former peers might have addressed you as), in person. Coffee, tea or wine ... Name your poison, and I will serve it you accordingly and exceptionally. I look forward to hear from you. Best regards, Professor Emmrich Volkarin

And so it did, 'wind up in the hands of Dorian Pavus', that is. The poor soul, who would seek such attentions willingly? —— But alas, it could no longer be reconsidered or undone, though neither could the way that this Magister's lips tugged into something akin to a smirk— or was that an earnest smile forming so delicately under the curl of a much too well-kept mustache? The texture of the parchment was familiar, but it was the smallest glimpse beyond that gave away the author's identity without even the necessity of glancing at the name. There was so need, really. The ever so elegant, yet almost illegible calligraphy was unmistakable. And so his own quill found the confinement of his fingers, as he read, and wrote:

Professor Volkarin, Ah, the legendary chaos of your penmanship! It’s truly almost as if you’re attempting to communicate through an elaborate dance of ink rather than through words. For a moment, I thought I might not be able to decode such an... artistic display at all. But fear not— I’ve managed it with only a modest amount of help from a spirit. Yes, yes, I know— but this one was more of an assistant than a participant, and I assure you, he was treated with the utmost decorum. He did, however, insist on a small feast after assisting with your cryptic letter, but I’m fairly certain that was more his idea than mine. No restless spirits were harmed or neglected in the process, I promise. It is a true delight to hear from you, Professor. Though I must confess, your curiosity about my life’s course is unexpected—and yet, I find it to be entirely welcome. Yes, I must admit that I’ve been quite well, and, dare I say, perhaps even accomplished—though I’d never be so bold as to say I’ve fully unraveled the universe, not quite yet, I'm afraid (unfortunately so, wouldn't that be exciting!) The dead, however, have remained stubbornly elusive in their more cooperative nature. But don’t worry— I’ve treated them with kindness, even if they don’t always return the favor. Your invitation, of course, cannot be refused. I’m quite sure your keen eyes will find some fresh mischief to point out, as you always do. You’ve always had a talent for digging into things I’ve tried to neatly bury. Though I must admit, I’ve gotten rather adept at keeping a few tricks up my sleeve, so perhaps this time, I’ll surprise you. As for your offer — coffee, tea, or wine— you tempt me with impossible choices. But why settle for just one? Surely we’ll have enough time to indulge in all three: a touch of coffee to sharpen our wits, wine to loosen them (and our tongues) again, and tea to soothe whatever remains of our dignity by the end. A perfect circuit of pleasures, I'd say. Naturally, I must insist on a wine deserving of the occasion— nothing Fereldan, of course. We’ve both endured far too much to stoop to that indignity. And while you promise to serve me "accordingly and exceptionally," (You have me almost swooning, Professor!) I’d hardly dream of arriving empty-handed. Shall I bring the wine, then? Or something even more exceptional? Let it never be said that I failed to rise to a challenge, or occasion. Until then. I look forward to being both troublemaker and headache anew. Warmest regards (and, perhaps, a touch of anticipation), Dorian Pavus

[harumasatxt]

→ @avaere liked for a starter ! ( Character selected: Billy )

❝ So— you're really full robot or is a disguise? Don't get me wrong but, you don't act like the automatons I saw in my short life. I'm aware of the androids form Public Security but I think no one is being this excited to ... buy something? ❞ Harumasa commented with his arms crossed, he was right behind him. He thought he may be an intelligent construct but ... Nah, he was not going to continue that topic, he was more curious about the other's interest. ❝ What are you trying to buy anyway? ❞

[daybreakrising]

@avaere: "BRO? ARE YOU GOOD?"

See , news travel fast in Inazuma , and a little too fast when your ears happen to be as nosy as an old woman's , resulting in a menacing pose on top of the many , tall fences of the Kamisato estate . Seated on top of it was a wide-eyed oni , perhaps a little confused and perplexed to find Thoma ... as Thoma-ish as possible.

"MAAAAAN!" he would scoff, leaping from the fence and (almost onto his face) onto his feet. "Got a bro all worked up for nothing !!! Someone said that you were a green flag and I got SCARED that fluffy pink maiden had done some wonky stuff ... you look as ginger as always , house-bro !"

He grips the broom handle in his hands casually: so casually, in fact, that only observant eyes would have seen his grip shift, momentarily, into something more akin to a fighting stance. Broom handles are not so dissimiliar to polearms, after all.

But there's no danger. At least, not of the sort he should be worried about. The only danger here is that which Itto poses to himself.

"... What??" Truly, the only response he could give.

It takes a moment for the pieces to fall into place, and then the housekeeper laughs - not an unkind laugh, of course, but one of genuine amusement and, dare he say it, fondness. "You can relax, bro - it's just something people say about someone with good character. It's not meant literally."

Of course Itto took it literally.

"Well, since you're here, do you want to come in for some lunch?"

[astrxlfinale]

are you keeping tabs on sunday and his new girlfriend?

Oh the smile that finds itself encroaching his lips at this very moment.

You think that HE of all people wouldn't see? As often as he's steeped in his own endeavors, the matters of those close to his circle elicits intrigue to the seventh power.

"Now now now, March here is a lady in her own right. Protective as we are of each other when things get wild, I'm not gonna be that classic deal of a detective in the bushes." Caelus reassures, giving an idle wave of his hand. Though, is that to say he just hadn't paid any attention at all?

That's right, March 7th, the genuine lifeblood of the Express if he were to ever define the definition as a person. Somehow that lost bird managed to find refuge in her whimsy, and he certainly wasn't ignorant of the growing hints of longing in the man's eyes. Despite his cordial nature, somehow she managed to strike harmonic chords within his very soul.

Nothing else could even grasp Sunday's attention when her smile took the stage.

"Lemme tell you that the man has it bad." He emphasizes, giving a wave of the hand to try enunciating the scale of that wave through action.

"Who would've thought a truth like that would bloom the second he drops outta the cage? I'm not sure who he's trying to fool here exactly, given our own trails of life experience n' all. But he better be taking good care of her heart. Lemme see any sad tears with Sunday being in the same sentence, and it's not him injured."

A fist is made to emphasize that very point.

"Between me n' you--" He leans just a touch closer towards this nosy person. "Pay attention to his halo when he's spending time with her, you can hear song resonating from it."

Y'know what. @avaere

[intcritus]

It's always a little difficult to plan the perfect birthday, let alone the perfect birthday gift when one's mora doesn't quite live up to the name he has made for himself throughout Sumeru, Teyvat for all that matter. But of course, what would an architect be without his creativity (and horrible sleep schedule) than yet another fool unwilling to go a little extra further to ensure that there'll at least be something offered to the charming smile he loves so dearly, hands tucked firmly around Kaeya's as Kaveh guides him into the studio they have spent so many hours within.

"Don't, don't open your eyes," he pleads warmly as he steps backwards into the studio, glancing back at the setting behind him.

Surely, Kaeya can already smell the dishes prepared as well as the wine lingering in the air. Potentially the flowers Kaveh has gathered and arranged into various bouqets, but a part of him hopes that he does not smell them, at least not yet; " just a little further, okay, I promise it will be all worth it, at least... I hope it is? I wasn't sure what to figure out for your birthday as you keep telling me that you - watch your step - already have everything you could've asked for, so," and he'd guide him further, onto a blanket sprawled on the floor of the studio where he soon enough tells Kaeya to sit.

Sit and don't peek, not yet.

For there are still some things he needs to put in order, some smaller gifts that need to be in order such as the box he gathers from the counter of the kitchen before scurrying back over to him. Jewlery clinks as Kaveh positions himself in front of Kaeya, knees tucked under him as he places the box in the other's lap so freed hand can reach upwards and caress his cheek.

"Open your eyes," and in doing so there'd be possibly hundreds of flowers put neatly around the room, some put as decorations dangling from the roof, the entire studio dimmed with a few lanterns lighting it up; "I know you're not too fond of the sand in your clothes, and I for one don't enjoy the bugs during the evening so I wanted to bring the beautiful sight of nature inside with us, and... I wasn't quite sure what to get you as a gift, but I hope that the contents of the box is enough."

Once opened, there'd be a key within (to no other place than the studio, a welcoming gift for the captain to come and go as he'd please) alongside an earring crafted in a similar manner to the one Kaveh wore. Though, where his sported red and green, Kaeya's held bright, beautiful blue and purple, polished brightly.

"Happy birthday," he'd add in a hushed whisper, smiling as he'd lean over to offer a kiss against his cheek; "I hope I made the earrings in the right size, I forgot to measure them."

      Two surprises in one day ? First Beorn, now Kaveh. It makes him chuckle, even as he tries to keep his balance as Kaveh guides him. He hadn’t been kidding when he told the love of his life that he had everything he wanted. There’s nothing physically he needs for his birthday. Kaveh’s kisses ? Maybe being able to spend the rest of his life by the architect’s side being silly and in love ? Heh, he likes the thought of just being old and grey with Kaveh. Archons, even grey, Kaeya is sure Kaveh would be fucking stunning. ❝ ━ I’m sure it’s more than worth it.❞ What Kaveh will come to understand about Kaeya is that the very thought that the architect put something together for him at all ? That he thought of him ? That would always be worth it to the Captain, it was almost enough to make him emotional. 

The subtle scent of flour puzzles him, but the smell of food ? His mouth waters. He’s so ready to eat whatever it is he’s smelling. Like right now. Oh. Something is placed in his lap and he leans into the hand caressing his cheek, nuzzling his lover’s palm for a brief second with a content hum. At Kaveh’s prompting, lone eye looks around, realizing the reason he’d been smelling flora and it was gorgeous.❝ ━ This is… ❞ Even inside, it reminded him of being outside, by the water, surrounded by nature and oh, it was incredibly thoughtful and creative. The Captain takes it in, the emotions bubbling up in his chest threatening to choke him.

❝ ━ You did all of this for me ?  ❞ It’s truly the thought of Kaveh arranging this flora, bringing the beauty of nature inside for both of them to enjoy that really makes him emotional, the ball in his throat tightening. ❝ ━ You don’t have to convince me you adore me, y’know ? This is enough to make me chain myself to your– ❞ He pauses as he opens the box in his lap, brow wing upward. Fingers curl around the key, thumb brushing over it as he looks from said key to Kaveh then back again. Oh. ❝ ━ Really ? ❞ His voice cracks and the Captain has to clear his throat. A key to Kaveh’s studio ? It’s a show of trust, and it brings tears to Kaeya’s gaze, swallowing past the emotion choking him. But no less than the earring that he picks up out of the box.They’re gorgeous.

Placing the items back in the box, he sets it to the side, ❝ ━ These gifts, the thought you put behind all of this ? It was more than worth it, in fact, it was more than I could have asked or hoped for. Thank you, Kaveh, for making this a memorable birthday. ❞ Hands reach out to cradle Kaveh’s features, pulling him in for a tender kiss,a smile on his lips as one kiss turns to two, pressing his forehead to the architect’s, ❝ ━ I really love the earrings, I’ll probably never take them off. As for the key ? It means a lot that you trust me with that, I won’t break your trust in me. Now, are you going to feed the birthday boy or will I have to put out more kisses? ❞ He murmurs, cheekily.

kaeya's bday2k24. | @avaere

[immobiliter]

@avaere sent a meme: " i performed a public service. you act like that’s a bad thing. " this was too itto … to pass up on … for poor furina !

       Maybe it was the glare he'd received from inside of the opera house at the scene of his so-called public service, or maybe the heavy silence he'd been greeted with as the pair of them walked out of the Epiclese and began their slow stroll back to the Aquabus... but either way, despite the warm evening sunshine and the dispersal of the excited crowds around them, a storm was brewing, and it seemed Arataki Itto knew exactly what to say in order to whip it up into a frenzy.

       He spoke, and Furina suddenly rounded on him.

       “ But it’s the OPERA, Itto! You can’t just stand up and start whooping and cheering halfway through the performance! That’s not how it’s done! ” Voice raised in the way only an actress could, intended to project across rows of seats filled with expectant audience members, arms waving wildly — unfortunately for Itto, this was turning into a powerhouse of a performance from the prima donna who had once refused to go on stage because the set designers had used flowers that did not complement her outfit. An affront to their Archon, she had said, and arrangements had had to be made for an understudy fifteen minutes before curtain up to ensure that there was still a show. Thinking back, she was certain that her snub had put the entire theatre troupe out of business within a month of that performance. “ Everyone turned around to stare at you and then they stared at me, and the last thing i wanted was to draw attention to myself. I don't sit in the audience with everyone else. I never have. And I didn't want anyone to see me there now— ”

       At once, she broke off. Stopped. Stared at Itto, a little dumbfounded — scared, even, as if realising just how easy it had been in her anger to slip back into the role of a lifetime. A role with no end. A role that had warped her entire being grotesquely out of shape over five hundred years. Where did the performance end, and where did she begin? Furina did not know. But she understood well enough that, no matter how much she had wrestled that ugliness into submission over recent months, it still roiled beneath her skin like a monster banished beneath the bed, waiting for the right opportunity to strike.

       She was still angry. At Itto, perhaps, but more so at herself. A pained noise clawed its way out of her throat as she turned from him, wrapping her arms around her torso. One deep breath. Another. You are not that person anymore, Furina. This is not how you make friends.

       Worst of all, she didn't have the courage to turn and face him, to see those eyes of his, always so soft and well-meaning, filled with hurt and confusion. “ I’m sorry. That was unkind of me. ” Furina drew another shaky breath. �� You're not from Fontaine. I didn't explain how these things work here. ” It was all so stupid, an insignificant thing to get angry over. She spared a hesitant, guilty glance over her shoulder, and the apology she wished to repeat over and over died in her throat.

[thessence]

i dare u to count all the years we've known each other hoops, i dare u

@avaere

i was LITERALLY on one of my old blog's archives the other day looking for a headcanon and i saw one of our old ships together and looked at the date and nearly cried

ITS BEEN ABOUT 6 OR 7 YEARS

[shrineofprophecy]

"Sunday has been on the Astral Express for less than a week and he's already trying to hook up with someone? How very bold... I guess you learned a thing or two from me after all."

[ccaptain]

❀ What has made you completely lose your chill?

bless ur soul for validating the monday salt -- @avaere

Completely lose my cool not in terms of anger, but having it tank my mood something huge: that everpresent segment of time that seems like loss of interest but isn't, but you have no way of knowing it unless you're close with the person, that usually discourages me from forming meaningful bonds with my muse entirely. Mostly because it's a recurring occurrance I can't shake off.

Prefacing this by saying that these feelings usually hit me past 9PM, and that you should never listen to anything negative that you're feeling past that hour, as it'll be greatly exaggerated by the brain really kicking into Depressive Territory after that fucking hour.

Maybe a wrong approach to this from my part to be a tad upset about this when it happens, because the person/people is/are probably relaxed enough and the development of their muses is that they don't feel the urgency to consistently scour my blog to look for opportunities to develope them (sending an ask meme, hitting me up to plot a starter, etc.). A bit hurtful all the same, and I'm not going to pretend that it doesn't make me go ''...oh'' when i notice that this is happening- it sucks.

I've found that the best approach I can have to deal with this is put a certaint distance between me and that bond/ship, and stop sending ask memes about them to the mun, who probably has other things in their mind and may feel swarmed/pressured to focus on what our muses have, and consistently reduce how much I interact with the entire thing. Once the mun approaches me with an idea and/or I'm being sent an ask meme, I will calmly get to it whenever I can, and things will go back to normal. 

You're more than allowed to be upset about things like not being prioritized as a rp partner, or outright skipped when it comes to being sent things for interactions. It's completely normal to feel bad about it- it's how you go about dealing with it that's important.

[resolutepath]

I don't know if you've talked about this before, but the thought in regards to Elio and romance fell into my head. How does he perceive romance? Does he pros and cons with it? Has Elio ever been through heartbreak?

Elio and romance is a fascinating thing, because it is one of the most human of concepts to him and he oft does not permit himself such frivolities of life. They are beyond him, part of a world that is not his to reach and the intricacies involved astound him. In truth Elio perceives romance to be something born of hope, a defiant flickering flame in the face of a yawning chasm of darkness and he rejoices in the instances he has seen, in that he touches. But he is not allowed it, there are very few instances in which he will break these rules.

After all, how does one fall in love when they can see all that is to come? He would know with just the slightest temptation when their time is to end and how it is to come about, he will know who is to blame, what were the choices made, whether it was the best case scenario or not. There is no spontenaity for one who has the ability to foresee, there is no freedom to act for one who knows the consequences of said actions. And in other ways, Elio cannot allow himself the freedom to get so attached because by the time he is he is already grieving. His life is inexplicably tied to Nanook's own. How many goodbyes must he face? How many partings must he endure? There are already enough with the Stellaron Hunters, a necessary risk for the sake of the universe.

And what right has he to put his want to love before the whole universe?

Therein lies the tragedy of Elio, the one caught between mortal and aeon, a foot in both worlds but belonging to neither. The abilities he has prevent him from being part of the human world, living it as they do and his higher purpose prevents him from allowing himself the selfishness he would need to pursue love. But his immense care for the world that he observes leaves him quite connected because he cannot harden his heart less he forget why he pursues this path, the lives he desires to save, the ruination he wishes to prevent.

That being said Elio has had a single instance, so far, in which I have explored him allowing himself to be in love and that you can find here. In this he allows himself a fleeting thing, but a night and a morning beyond, something that was over before it began but while it was there it burned so true. I do not know yet if Elio could fall truly in love, but I know that would be dangerous because the caveats that come with it are immense. How do you love someone you know will never choose you over their greater purpose? How do you reconcile the fact that he probably knows your major milestones in life before they happened?

I think in his vessels, those it is plausible with, Elio would be interested in exploring the concept of romance, because in those characters there is a story and when the story is over the curtains close and that character is gone, but a memory known only to he and they. And perhaps he would be cruel and destroy it before the time it ends because it is too close and the line between character and Elio gets too thin and perhaps it breaks him a little but in the end it is over and the chance is gone.

The idea of Elio finding the potential for love really does fascinate me because it truly does depend on if the correct circumstances arise and if there is someone selfless enough to love him despite. Who knows if that will happen but it would be interesting to see. It's not off the table, not at all.

[yingren]

for the ruckus on its own had been enough to draw in the curiosity of the local fire hazard herself , guinaifen ( phone in hand ) rushing towards what sounded to be a fight. in midst of a stream , she'd inform her viewers that something was up and that she had to end it quickly to see if anyone had gotten hurt , but of course ... hasty steps would lessen their speed at the sight of fallen enemies , a long and messy array of fading entities spread across the ground. it'd take her back , yet force eyes to scan for life , phone shoved away at the sight of a man in the middle of it all ; " hey ! are you okay ? "

what a question to ask someone who seemed to have been fighting for a while. surely, she could've picked something better, but words would wait as guinaifen would began to step past the sprawled monsters. she had seen messes like these before around the cloudknights, but they were usually several, and this guy was one and alone, semingly ready to go again ( she'd reach out, but stop herself as she'd settle to stepping before him instead , glancing upwards curiously whilst remaining at a distance ); " whoa, whoa, take it easy, big guy! You got pretty banged up back there, and you don’t want to go making yourself worse. "

a female voice pierces through the relentless pounding in his ears, a blend of adrenaline and his own heartbeat, unyielding in its reminder that he cannot escape it, not even for a moment. his sword is already sheathed, waiting to be summoned again, while his scraped palms press against the ground, keeping him steady. these grounds feel anything but familiar, far removed from the place he calls home, if such a place even exists. the irony lingers, though, as he remembers that he once belonged here. his gaze shifts, searching for the source of the voice, only to lock onto unfamiliar eyes. a young girl, her lips forming words that take an eternity for his mind to comprehend. the pounding persists, even as the shallow wounds on his body begin to mend themselves.

“ who are you ? ” panic, rare and unwelcome, lingers just beneath the surface, hiding behind his widened eyes as they fixate on her from across the distance. despite his focus, her face remains unrecognizable, absent from any fragment of memory he can summon. is she younger than he initially thought, or is time simply catching up with him? the battlefield left in the wake of the fight, a once ordinary stretch of ground now littered with fallen adversaries, receives none of his attention. instead, every ounce of it is reserved for her. 

with no clear reason, he takes a tentative step forward, then another, willing his body to close some of the distance between them. she doesn’t look like she belongs here, and that observation alone forces a calm upon him, one carefully curated to make him seem as harmless as possible. innocent bystanders have no place in his battles, he’s always made it a priority to attempt to shield them from the chaos whenever he can. 

his gaze remains fixed on her, unwavering, as he edges closer. though his injuries are superficial, the weight of fatigue drags at him, a fact he can’t entirely conceal. he raises a hand and wipes the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, his movements slow and deliberate. even now, he fights to project an aura of control, despite the lingering exhaustion and the unfamiliar tension curling in his chest.

“ what are you doing here ? are you alone ? ”

[iniziare]

🔥 and this one's for your general salt outlet

Prompt: Send me a “ 🔥 “ for an unpopular opinion. // Accepting. // @avaere

Bring back diaries. And I genuinely mean this with the best intentions at heart, but it's also something that I'm incredibly salty about: your dashboard is not your emotional outlet. I'm also quite frankly, a little worried about how easily people feel so seemingly at ease and comfortable sharing insanely sensitive information about themselves with absolute, total strangers. And I don't mean to say that people here are bad, not at all, I've met some of my closest friends around these parts many years ago— but just because someone is friendly with you, does not make them your friend. No, those two are not interchangeable. But even if we take away those people one talks to on a semi-consistent basis, then your dashboard still consists of... strangers. And I see people talk about financial burdens, health problems (mental is the one I'll focus on here), and actual trauma in their lives as if it's not inherently personal information. Stop it, have we forgotten why 'distrusting' is a concept in life that we are taught early on in age, and also shouldn't ever lose sight of? Life shouldn't be 'let's trust until we're given reason to distrust', it should be the other way around. Guys, you don't know where your venting will end up, you don't know who could read any of this stuff. There are many things in your life that are yours, and can be shared with friends if you need to vent, but I need people to remember that we don't take a megaphone out into the streets and air all of our problems for a plethora of reasons.

Now the other half of it is also... and I know that this will possibly sound mean, but your problems are yours and not anyone else's. Your struggles in your present, your mistakes in your past, and your 'needs' are your own to bear and tend to, and there are ways for you to find help doing so if you require it, and your friends are even there to support you, but your dashboard of your roleplay blog on Tumblr.com is not the audience where it should go. We used to have diaries for this that we vented in (which then became digital, like Livejournal, or personal blogs), which then also helped us organize our thoughts— and we did this because we didn't want the world to know everything about us (which is a good thing), we sought privacy, but also because announcing all that was 'wrong with us' to the masses never actually helped anyone (and if anything, has only made everyone more insecure than ever before because they unconsciously teach themselves to find their value entirely in strangers). Our problems don't concern the world, and thus the world doesn't need to curate itself to appease us or help us, simply because... that's never where the solution was at any point, nor will it ever be where one can find it. Our problems are our own, and involving people that cannot help us with them is doing a disservice to ourselves (as it simply dissuades us from potentially seeking help in places where we should seek it) and them, simply because they cannot help us with them any way, and so burdening them with them is, quite frankly, entirely unjust and unfair. Diaries, guys, diaries, and reclaim the concept of privacy. And no, no one took it from you, you actually freely gave it away, and it's become the reason why generations are getting more, and more insecure as they come, even if they claim not to be.

[harumasatxt]

→ @avaere liked for a starter ! ( Character selected: Seth )

❝ Oh look who's here! Isn't that my favorite rookie? ❞ Everything that executive officer said was always tricky. He could either be telling the truth or perhaps he was just messing around. Whichever it was, today the victim was Seth. He wasn't a fan of Public Security but sometimes he had no choice but to interact with them.

[daybreakrising]

@avaere: "It's entirely impossible to go underwater and breathe, that goes beyond all logic I have ever been taught throughout my years at the Akademiya," so much for indulging in a debate in regards to swimming, the nature of local water in Fontaine, for where there is a sight of someone willingly plunging themselves into such horrific depths there's an architect more than willing to utter his frustrations to poor Vautrin. So much for showing Kaveh the piers of Court of Fontaine. It has resulted in utter disbelief, a blonde holding his hand out in the direction of people jumping into the water from the edge, eyes torn between his company and the death trap; "Are people of this nation just - willingly sacrificing themselves to crabs? You can't possibly tell me that people are supposed to breathe under water, Vautrin. That is not how it works."

Again, disbelief, and possibly a small concern for was to how much water the people of Fontaine happen to be consuming during their little adventures. Perhaps the crabs enjoyed drowned dinner?

Hand retracts to the bridge of his nose, elbow propped up against an arm that laid around the architect's waist. He cannot help but to sigh at it all. "Water is wet, water is heavy and water will fill up every possibly crevice, therefore lungs - drowning, death -" there's a head lifting itself back up to look at Vautrin.

"How - how - do people breathe under water, Vautrin, explain this - because I don't believe it."

It is safe to say that Vautrin has never met a person so adverse to the water in his entire life - all four-hundred plus years of it. Of course, he has never been outside of Fontaine's borders (primordial sea aside, which he argues is both inside and outside Fontaine, but that is besides the point). It used to be a saying from his own youth that children in Fontaine learned to swim before they learned to walk.

As he watches the incredulous expression intensify on the blond's face, his gesturing becoming more exaggerated with every word that increases in both volume and emphasis, Vautrin's relaxes into something akin to genuine amusement. The normally stiff and awkward captain seems to melt away, revealing a hint of the man that lurks beneath the formalities.

"Well, I know not what your Akademiya taught you, but Fontaine water is... unique. Different. We are the nation of Hydro, after all. Is it truly that much of a surprise?" He decides to overlook the rather redundant statement that water is wet, and instead focuses on the question that lingers on the architect's lips.

It is, he assumes, a common question asked from visitors of other lands. A fair one, too - certainly, he understands the disbelief Kaveh cannot shake. "I can assure you, no one is sacrificing themselves to crabs." Is that, perhaps, a hint of exasperation in the captain's voice? But, honestly... the dramatics of this man seemingly know no bounds.

"And for the average person, the water here is no different to anywhere else. That is, they cannot breathe underwater and must, instead, hold their breath for as long as they are able, or use equipment to aid them. It is still very possible for such people to drown if they are not careful." The briefest of shadows flickers across the swirling colours of Vautrin's primordial gaze - a memory, a pain that forever lingers deep in his heart.

It is gone as soon as it appears. He focuses again on Kaveh, on the swirling green particles that dance about his person with every move he makes - and he nods at the vision hanging at Kaveh's waist. "It is different for people like you. Like us." He is quick to add that last amendment. There may indeed be a vision fastened to the cape at his shoulder, but it is not his vision that grants him air beneath the waves.

But Kaveh doesn't need to know that. No one does.

"Would you like me to demonstrate for you?" He can already predict what the reaction to this offer will be, yet he makes it anyway. "I can sit just there, beneath the surface, for as long as I need to in order to prove you will not drown."

Arms cross over the former captain's chest, brow furrowing ever so slightly. "I may not be overly familiar with Sumeru as a whole, but given its rich forests and jungles, I assume there is ample water to be found. Yet your reaction seems so... extreme. Monsieur Kaveh, you do know how to swim, yes?"