#about how nice of a thought it is — to imagine a bard that ven can get to hold again. to hear again
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missing venti hours
#i am having thoughts . but i am not too confident to make them their own posts#mmmost notably#about how nice of a thought it is — to imagine a bard that ven can get to hold again. to hear again#but . the idea that in canon . the best he could do to replicate that feeling is either holding himself and pressing softly or perhaps#gathering a long pillow in his arms and pretending#because mortals do not last long (not without consequence). and as said so much — time is merciless. it matters not how the clock ticks away#for you. whether it be by seconds or minutes. hours or years. it marches along regardless of anyone’s feelings to it#and you have to grasp at what lingers in between : the bonds that you make . the joy and sorrow . the laughing and silence#and you have to hold them close close close. to preserve them for another day#there is no getting back what was lost#but that’s a bit too bittersweet so anyways#first and foremost ven is a nuisance and we love him for that#secondly and much more importantly than the first point is that ven is full of love and care that it surprises me how it does not burst out#from him. ven puts others before himself A LOT. he wants everyone to be able to live peacefully. happily#to find that they can live another day with a smile#and if that means assuring them of what’s to come. or offering them a shoulder to cry on. or making a fool of himself#then by the heavens himself will he sign up for the task#he is not !!! a lazy archon i refuse this notion#he cares deeply for his people !!! he watches and he will help if they stumble and will back away when they wish to walk forwards on their#own !! and they will make mistakes and they will learn from them and he will be there …!!!!! to see them grow !!!!!#besides mondstadt doesn’t particularly ?? seem like they want a god to truly rule over them . tbh#and this is disregarding the fact that mond . fucking killed their first god . ven is not going to risk that ???#so what use would it be — to start randomly showing up as a god and guiding them that way ?? that would be pressuring !!#does this . am i making sense . im very tired#it’s 2am#lantern says stuff
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prompt 9: dense
“You. New bloke.”
Tiber, who had been leaning against the wall of the Seventh Heaven enjoying the cool breeze, nearly choked on his cigarette. While he was fairly sure by now that most of the Scions weren’t going to kill him for existing in their presence—though it had been a very tense few bells when he and Vivian had been introduced to their healer Q’yala—he couldn’t help the dread that coursed down his spine whenever any of them actually spoke to him. Miss Soleil was bad enough, but he’d heard from his former comrades in Ala Mhigo that Miss Gantsetseg had once ripped out a man’s throat with her teeth. Teeth that he now saw were bared in an attempt at a smile as she sidled up to him. The effect brought him to mind of a shark trying to be friendly. “Um.” Well, new bloke was a step up from you, Garlean at least. She stood a head and a half shorter than him, and he was acutely aware that his thin shirt wouldn’t protect him at all. “...Can I help you, miss?”
She folded her arms across her chest, meeting his eyes directly. Her cheeks around the edges of her scales were flushed purple. “I need a favor. It doesn’t leave this space, and you don’t tell a single living soul. Understand?”
Oh, false gods. Hastily, he nodded.
“I...” Her gaze seemed to be hovering somewhere around his shirt collar. “...Alright. How the blazes do you flirt in Garlean?”
What. Slowly, Tiber blinked at her, letting her words filter through his brain. Sorry, but I’m not interested was not a quip that would extend his lifespan, so he bit it back and focused on the more pertinent information at hand. “This is about Ven—Vesper, isn’t it.”
“Yes!” It came out as an explosive hiss; as she gestured, her tail lashed hard against the wall. “He’s just—I gave him food! I hunted for him! I praise his fighting skills—really, have you seen him fight, he’s amazing—and he just—looks at me! Like an idiot! I’m not sure he actually even notices when I dress nice!” She huffed out a breath, tail drooping. “So. You’re both Garlean. I was hoping you’d know.”
He frowned, thinking through what he knew of Alan Vesper. It wasn’t much; the man had been an officer, was quite good with magitek, and had spent the past two years hiding his third eye and pretending to be a mediocre bard. He rather doubted any bardic stereotypes had been involved. And I’m sure he’d notice when she dresses well. I notice when she dresses well, it’s hard not to when she’s wearing shorts like that. Come to think of it, he had seen Alan stare when she walked by. “Hmm.”
“What?”
He winced preemptively, unable to look in her direction. “...Have you considered that he may just be an idiot?”
She groaned, letting her head thud against the wall. “No. Nobody can be that dense. I refuse to accept it. There must be something. What would you do to let a guy know you’re interested?”
It was a chilly day, but he felt his face grow hot anyway. “I don’t—” Even if he could take Vivian dancing or something, it was entirely outside the realm of possibility that he’d accept. Not from Tiber formerly-pyr Gallius. He had to focus. “I’ve no idea what anyone does for fun in these lands, so I’m afraid I can’t be much help...” He squinted at her. “Have you tried telling him?”
The noise that escaped her sounded like a teakettle; her tail coiled around her legs as she stepped back in evident horror. “No! Gods, you have any idea how bloody awkward that would get?”
He could imagine it all too well, but… “I saw him drop a wrench on his foot once when you rolled your sleeves up. I don’t think it would be as bad as you fear.”
She snorted, shaking her head. “Bullshite.”
His eyes narrowed. “Truly, Miss, I have no idea why you thought I’d be able to help. If I knew anything about how to—how to date in this bloody country, I’d—”
But she was tilting her head, staring past him. “Hey, is that Vivian? Maybe he’ll be of more use.”
Vivian? He spun around, scanning the crowd. Bloody hell, did I brush my hair—I’m not wearing a hat—I knew I should have bought a newer shirt—
But Vivian was nowhere to be seen; when he turned around, neither was Gantsetseg.
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