#aesthetecomplex

[avcnturine]

ARTISTS PAY THEIR LIFE'S WORK IN BLOOD. aventurine's smile curls imperceptibly higher while kaveh talks, through the dips and swells of his explanation——in truth, he could've avoided answering his question completely and still the answer would've been clear ; the warm, fractured tones of his voice, the wandering expressions over his face ; he even peered at his second glass with a dissociated kind of care, as if he were examining something a lot more philosophical than a fresh rose.

by comparison, the stoneheart had never been much of an academic. the company's close affiliation with the intelligentsia guild aside, he and most others that ran on his side of the line tended to let the discourse and debate about intangibles stay in those spirited classrooms where they flourished best. it was something he'd lacked the privilege of before——then the interest, when he'd eventually acquired the former.

his smile visibly warms, as if he wasn't about to pour ice water on the other's ardent manifesto. "i can't say it does, friend." a silence to let that sink in, but he doesn't hold it long. a shift in body language relaxes the anticipated disappointment, posture resting easily back against the seat. "but that doesn't mean i don't respect your way of thinking. there are plenty out there who do share the sentiment, and without them, progress wouldn't ever have made it this far, right?" he finally lifts his beautiful enemy delicately to his lips, and the froth of puffergoat white conceals some quiet thought behind the momentary half-curtain of his lashes. like an iridescent bubble of memoria, something he'd just been perusing the other day floats back to mind: the righteous fury of one girl named puzzle, later deemed genius society #77 when her heartfelt outcry had granted her the notice of a god. a staunch pacifist in an age of conflict, where others might've thought about vengeance, she'd pursued innovation to soothe her pain, only eventually to fade into anonymity in the futility of it ever since. all the while, the wars had waged on, and still today her creation is better known for the damage it could do to a present enemy than the promise it might hold for a future generation.

indeed, without them, progress wouldn't ever have made it this far.

glass is set down on the countertop again ; that warm smile had never skipped a beat. "that's the exact reason you shouldn't have to work yourself to the bone for it. you've never thought it's unfair——putting your heart and soul into what you do, only for so few to appreciate it? at the very least," he adds with a light huff, a touch of humor, "i can imagine you've probably wished for more understanding clients."

　♠　figures of speech .

[dreamingclockwork]

✧ craxis: the unease of knowing how quickly your circumstances could change on you.

Dear Mikhail,

Today was our last day at the Luofu, so we’re preparing to head off again. I met so many people, saw so many amazing sights and got to try so many delicious foods… I wonder, was this how you felt too as you journeyed across the stars? The feeling of excitement, of your heart thumping in your chest as you can’t wait to see what happens next.. I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of this feeling. It’s like my dreams are finally coming true, I get to see the world for myself. And it’s so much more vast, exciting and beautiful than I ever could’ve imagined! I’m happy, so very happy. It’s like the stars are shining brighter, every sight and every smell is so much more vivid. I never thought I could be this happy.

….I’ll admit though, the fact that I’m so happy also scares me a little. I’m scared I’ll lose it, this feeling, these people, this happiness.. It’s everything I ever dreamt of. I understand now why you loved to trailblaze so much. I miss everyone on Penacony, of course. Clockie and Sleepie, Miss Mirror and all our friends back home. But I don’t think I ever want to go back to the way it used to be. Back to only dreaming..

Dreaming…

(The following paragraph is notably messier, with tear stains on the page.)

I realized something, a few days ago. I was never supposed to see this, right? This happiness was never meant for me. I was never supposed to be a person… just a runaway dream, meant to fulfill a purpose. After that, like all dreams I was to come to an end. I was reminded of this because when I was washing dishes earlier, I accidentally nicked my finger. That doesn’t sound too weird, does it? But…

It wasn’t red.

I want to exist. I want to experience so much more, I want to see so many more places, I want to meet so many more people. But I’m scared. I’m.. not human, right? So what if.. what if the happiness I feel now will just cease to exist. If my wish runs out. If I lose my dreams..

What will happen to me?

[huntersoath]

"You can lose a chart, you can lose a compass, but you can't lose the stars."

"In a literal sense... hunters and travelers of old certainly utilized the North Star for directional sense. My time in the wilds has enabled me to become quite proficient in that regard." "But I suppose it could be a metaphor as well. Those who shine brightest in our hearts will continue to direct us onward. May we strive to protect that light- as I'm sure you already do, Monsieur Kaveh."

There's several comrades that she has in mind for her statement, and the mere thought of them promotes a warmth that blooms from her chest. If it were not for those that took the time to support her and get to learn her, it's likely that Clorinde would have never made it this far. Petronilla, who first extended her hand to a dirty, ratty child with no name or purpose. Born to struggle in the dirt, and abandoned as if she never mattered in the first place- only for her worth to be seen in another who she owed her life to. If she were to see the Duelist now, would she be proud? Would she find it to be a blessing that she made her decision to take Clorinde into her life so many years ago?

Navia, the closest friend she's ever had. The fateful picnic decades ago that saw her tugged along by the hand, peals of childish laughter causing her heart to hammer in her chest for a reason other than fear. While Petronilla taught her the blade and the art of war, the Caspars taught her love; while her parents never stopped to acknowledge her, Callas Caspar always treated her as his own daughter. Clorinde remembers the first moment that he hugged her, and the way her eyes burned with tears unshed-- the first time in her life that she ever felt as if she had a father.

Furina, who initially began as her liege, and quickly developed into something far more treasured. Though she no longer serves as her Archon, the woman is embedded deeply into her heart as a friend who has done everything in her power to save Fontaine... and as a result, Clorinde's own life. She'd go to war for Furina, as she has before, and this time- it wouldn't be out of duty, but out of familial love.

Wriothesley, the man whose cold facade had been chipped away at over the years they had collaborated together. While the two of them only functioned as colleagues and a strange sort of 'coworkers' for a long period of time, the hours spent with him over a cup of tea quickly made her come to realize that the two of them shared more in common than she initially believed. Nowadays, her trips to the Fortress are just as much for work as they are for companionship-- though he's never said as much, it's a hunch that the Duke wishes for her to try every tea in his collection at least once. And Clorinde will, committing every flavor to memory as it changes from one visit to the next.

Neuvillette, who still functions as her boss and always will. Underneath her duty and calling lies a trust that could never be tarnished, as the Iudex's service is unchanging and unwavering in his impartiality. Though Clorinde is his blade, she is also a comrade who would go to any lengths to ensure both his safety... and his comfort. If she can help, she will-- and the Duelist sincerely hopes that he understands the sentiment from her. Neither of them speak many words to each other, but they understand one another. And sometimes, that's all that matters. Chiori, whose sharp tongue and scathing remarks constantly keep Clorinde in line. The seamstress knows the Duelist well enough to provide her with excellent quality uniforms that fit her so perfectly; in design and functionality. Not only are Chiori's skills unrivaled, but so is her unbridled honesty-- if Clorinde ever chooses to divulge her struggles, she knows wholeheartedly that she'll receive an answer that many others may be afraid to say out loud. Where many fear her simply for her title of Champion Duelist... Chiori is one who would seek to challenge it, treating her as if she was simply another customer of her boutique.

Sedene, the Melusines... Accepting of others in an unconditional love that brings a smile to her face during every interaction. It's no wonder that the Iudex is quite taken with them, though Clorinde suspects that the story runs much deeper than that. Their loyalty to the Court of Fontaine is something she can appreciate, and the jovial spirit they exude any time a greeting is extended to her-- frankly, it's one of the favorite parts of her days. Lyney, Lynette, Freminet. It doesn't seem right to address them all individually considering their attachment to each other, but each of them holds their own soul and heart in a stark contrast to their differing personalities. Where Lyney is a star that shines brightest, Lynette is the shadow cast by his light-- and it's fitting for someone such as her, striving to support and promote her brother in a way that no one else ever could. Clorinde can relate, to a degree, when her sun that she orbits takes the spotlight in a way that she deserves. Freminet, though quiet and reserved far more than the other two, has a kind soul that deserves to be cherished and celebrated. Perhaps one day, once the boy has become more receptive to social interaction, others will come to realize the treasure that he is to the world.

"I'll make sure the stars of my life guide me ever onwards. Thank you, for your words."

[renascinem]

[PROP DESIGN] - It's hard to make a set on a budget, and that’s where you come in. Show off your own artistic skills by lending a hand to make some props!

this is where he feels most at home—immersed in work that demands both his hands and his mind, where critical thinking and creative design merge seamlessly, where every move is deliberate, every calculation intentional. it’s here, in this space of focus, that he brings together what he knows with what is expected of him. the task at hand is not difficult, even with the constraints of limited supplies. kaveh comes prepared, as always, with mehrak in tow, ever eager to lose himself in the process. his head bent low, hands steady and skilled as he makes the final adjustments. an attached wire here, a connection there—and the prop begins to take shape until slowly, the device in his hands starts to pulse.  “would you like to give it a try?” he looks up, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. kaveh extends the mechanized glove toward the man standing beside him. “i need to make sure the lights stay on even while it’s being swung around. they’ll need it for the fight scene.”

Dan Heng has never considered creativity of any sort to be his strong suit. He lacks the talent, he lacks the inspiration, and Aeons know he lacks experience, having never been allowed to try and create anything.

Eventually there came a point where he just didn't think about it at all. The most he "creates" is articles in the data bank, where he simply repeats information gathered and discovered by others, which is something he doesn't really count. And other than that, he simply considers it to be the domain of others.

Therefore, while Dan Heng watches the process of prop creation curiously, he does not participate in it, limiting himself to just observation. It's not as though he would be of much help, whether with the design or the structure. Mr. Kaveh's way of utilizing his device for his construction is very interesting indeed; perhaps compared to some technologies he has seen in the galaxy, it wouldn't be considered to be anything too fancy, but that doesn't mean it's any less fascinating. Maybe if Mr. Kaveh finds some free time, he could ask him more about this gadget.

Dan Heng is broken out of this train of thought when the blond man speaks to him, and it takes a second before he realizes he is being asked for a favor. "Oh, uh, sure." He's far from versed in hand to hand combat, but just swinging a few times he can manage, right? Carefully, as though worried that he'll damage Kaveh's work just by touching it, he accepts the glove and puts it on. "Let me try. Tell me if you need me to do anything more."

[immovablewill]

[CUP PONG] - If gambling isn’t your kind of thing, maybe something lower stakes, though your stomach may hate you tomorrow. And don't worry about what's in the cup, it's totally just Fonta.

there's a contemplative look at the plastic ball before kaveh raises his gaze to meet the stranger's. the idea of tossing objects—having touched various surfaces and passed between different hands—into drinks feels rather unhygienic. but when in fontaine, he rationalizes, one must do as the fontainians do.

at the very least, he may get something out of it.

the strong kind, preferably.

"would you like to go first?" kaveh holds out the ball toward the woman, scanning her expression for any telltale signs of… well, anything. "i only hope the drinks are worth it after all the hoops they're making us jump through for them."

⁀➴ OVERTURE 2024

She was… confused. Or rather, she didn’t quite see the appeal of it—tossing balls into cups, cheering as though they had just won a lottery only to down the liquor within (The very same liquor that had touched the plastic ball. Which had also touched the hand of whoever tossed it. If not the table. Or the floor.)

Suffice it to say, Sara had never encountered anything quite like this in Inazuma, and the whole concept of it seemed, to her, odd. Her confusion did not mean she would be averse to trying it, of course. She’d come to Fontaine in the hopes of learning more about its culture, such that she could share the experience with those who would ask her (if any) upon her return.

When the man offered her the ball, Sara studied it for a moment, before quietly accepting it with a small nod. It was… As light as one would expect of a plastic ball filled with nothing, she supposed, and with a quick flick of her wrist she let it sail effortlessly toward one of the cups lined up, landing cleanly inside.

Huh. That certainly wasn’t as difficult as she had thought it would be. Why were so many struggling with it?

Sara's gaze remained neutral as she glanced back at the blonde beside her, almost as if the whole thing were a casual task to be completed. “ What now? ”

[dellarosula]

♡ blonds make up the dream team yfm

KAHVIA !!!

I FEEL YOU I DO the joint slay the combined serve it is unrivaled. they say two blonds don't make a right but they are Wrong

this is kind of just girlveh but genuinely otherwise it would have just been. navia. at least i was angling for like... frenchveh

i actually think this thing is kind of genetically predispositioned to be a mechanic of sorts. you take kaveh's life art and you throw in navia's dabbling in gunmaking.... are you seeing the vision.

[iustitians]

[RECALIBRATE] How frequently does your muse evaluate their own ways of thinking? Have they little self-insight/feel set in their minds for better or worse, or are they constantly questioning their own outlook? To the point of self-doubt, even?

Thought, learning and intellect headcanon asks for muses | no longer accepting

---

Oh god. I started casually answering this and then as I got further I had to open a Google Doc to keep notes, because the more I think about it the more I realize that Neuvillette is such a mixture of someone who is so open to new knowledge and yet at the same time so stuck on his own ways that it's actually kind of ridiculous. Okay let me try to be coherent for at least a moment.

So on the one hand...

How often does he re-evaluate his knowledge? Short answer is, all the time. Neuvillette came to Fontaine to learn about himself and who he is, due to losing many memories but also largely due to being born in human form. That means by extension learning about humanity, and that's what he's been doing all those centuries. He is also fully aware that there is much he doesn't know, he doesn't understand, and perhaps he doesn't truly have the potential to understand due to being a dragon. It's something he openly acknowledges. In that sense, he is certainly open to new discoveries and new knowledge, and re-adjusting and changing what he knew or what he thought he knew about humans and the world around him that now belongs to them.

And there certainly is a high degree of self-doubt involved, too - as I mentioned, he questions not only what he understands, but what he's capable of understanding in the first place. We see that at the beginning of his story quest - in spite of having lived in Fontaine for about 500 years, Neuvillette not only didn't consider himself a part of it, but also in fact didn't seem to even consider that a possibility to begin with. It took the experiences of that whole investigation, everyone pitching in willingly to help him, and then Wriothesley and the Traveler spelling things out for him, for him to begin to realize that both Fontaine and he have changed without him noticing. However, this kind of realization doesn't lead to immediate change. I'd say he's still processing all that to this day, to be honest.

But that doubt also seems to be at least part of what causes him to stand in place, or at least move forward very slowly. He appears to be his own greatest limitation, and that's where I say,

On the other hand...

How often he actually applies this new knowledge he has gained and adjusts to it is a whole different matter, and here my brain just returns a bunch of static noises as the answer. Because for all his openness to learning new things about the world, humans and himself, and for all his readiness to accept and acknowledge everything he had been wrong about, Neuvillette is a horribly inflexible person for whom many meaningful kinds of change take entire centuries to contemplate and then implement. Or try to, anyway. To a varying degree and with varying results. Like as an example, I'm pretty sure Furina has been trying to get him to loosen up and interact more with the human world for centuries, and finally after five hundred years, during the last Lantern Rite, he decided to give it a shot. Finally he was going to implement what he had learned about humanity in all that time by initiating some sort of activity on his own!

So he went to one place in Liyue, tried one new thing, and went back to work after half a day. Good job, buddy.

But hey, baby steps.

And perhaps part of the problem, in addition to the self-doubt issue I mentioned earlier, is something that he himself mentions at the end of Lantern Rite, and something I've been thinking a lot with regards to him recently: he is hardly bereft of time. He is under no pressure to learn and change quickly and rapidly. Of course, this does not apply to matters related to his work, and this kind of knowledge will be put in practice much more effectively. For example, the serial disappearances case taught him that people will sacrifice themselves for spiritual needs as well as each other, so now he will know to consider that as a possible realistic motive in future cases. But matters related to his work are human matters, and human matters are under more time pressure - and time itself is also a human matter.

When it comes to changing himself, he is in no rush because he does not need to rush. He has all the time in the world. If he doesn't understand something now, he can take a couple decades or centuries to think about it. He has too much time.

And sometimes one has to wonder whether that's a good or a bad thing.

tl;dr he's a mess that needs to be studied in a lab

[trailblczed]

hc + 🧡 for a friendship-themed headcanon

themed headcanon prompts | accepting.

Caelus has some small co-dependency issues. Not necessarily attached to anyone in particular, but to all of his close friends ( though especially applied to the Astral Express Family ). He does not like to be alone for very long a majority of the time. He has to be with someone he knows in order to be comfortable- or has to be someone recommended by someone he trusts/is close to him.

He often makes visits to the friends he's made on each mission, wanting to make sure that he sees them at minimum once every two weeks. If he can get a phone or video call from them that lasts a few hours then he can go a tad longer without seeing them in person. Otherwise, he starts to feel unease, even if he knows that his friend is completely fine and safe.

[dukemeropide]

30. What is their preferred level of activity and stimulation? How do they cope if they get either too little or too much?

Character Dev Questions | still accepting

This answer, unlike the last ones, is mostly headcanon. By and large, I think Wriothesley prefers mental stimulation over physical, contrary to how he may appear (I think back to all the impressions that came out around the time that his designs were leaked, most of which tended to lean more on Big Tough Guy Who Lets His Fists Do The Talking which, while different from canon, is still valuable in conveying how he might come across at a glance, and what kind of assumptions a stranger might make about him). I pull this idea from the fact that he has multiple lines about picnicking in the sun, or lying in the grass, and that his favorite time of day seems to be when he can have his afternoon tea. All of this portrays a character who enjoys physical leisure.

Where does boxing fit in? Wriothesley says it himself: it's not a hobby. From his character stories, we're told that boxing has always been a means to an end for him, first to gather strength and tools to kill his foster parents, and then later to win the credit coupons needed to survive in the Fortress of Meropide. We're also told that after becoming the prison's administrator, he doesn't fight in the Pankration ring much anymore. He's earned himself a comfortable life at this point, and no longer needs to rely on this to make a living. His line about the imitation Pankration ring for the teapot also has him declining the offer to fight in it.

All that is to say: I think if given the choice, in terms of physical activity, Wriothesley would prefer lazing in the sun all day. Obviously, he's muscular and fit, but like with boxing, this is probably borne from necessity.

Mental stimulation, on the other hand... his office is full of books. He talks about how he'd sought out the long lost history of Remuria and read history texts on it just out of his own curiosity. His character stories say that he has "always seemed to be preparing for something," whether that be learning to build meka to defend himself with, amassing credit coupons to take down the last administrator, or building a flying ship for some vague disaster in the uncertain future. Wriothesley comes across as the kind of person who needs projects, and planning for and building toward those projects is rewarding for him. Likewise, his drive to learn appears to be at least partly driven by the possibility that such information might be useful one day, which also seems to be what drives his interest in listening to other people's stories (i.e. finding people he might be able to hire for projects later on).

Overall, I think he has a high tolerance for both mental and physical stimulation (I imagine you'd need to, to run a prison), but to cope with having too much of either, from these two lines --

(Teapot: Nighttime) Wriothesley: The daytime hours are always full of sound and fury, so I've developed a habit of saving work that requires more considered thinking for the evening. Wriothesley: However… I'll pass on that while I'm here. Allow me to space out for a little longer.

(Good Night voice line) "Good night. I'll be staying up for a little while yet — want to run some numbers while everything's nice and quiet."

-- it sounds like he seeks quiet solitude after the bustle of the day, whether to work or to simply unwind and space out for a bit.

[entwinefates]

💐 here ya go paimon!

it's may day! send 💐 to give my muse a flower basket!

      ‎‎ ❝ ohoho, trying to sneak your way onto paimon's good side, are you? ❞      ‎‎ though unlikely to be kaveh's true intentions, the way the little fae's round, cherubic face splits into a cheery smile suggests it's working nonetheless. with her face cradled in the warmth of her palms, constellations whirl in the air as she admires the flower basket, all azure and lush and delicate petals in full bloom. as expected of sumeru's most passionate aesthete! if the sabzeruz festival ever hosted a flower arrangement competition, paimon would award every blue ribbon in her possession.

      ‎‎ ❝ WAIT WAIT WAIT ⸻ KAVEH, PERFECT TIMING! ❞      ‎‎ joy blossoms into excitement as the little fae realizes the opportunity presented to her. mindful enough to set the basket down first, paimon rolls back into a pocket of stars and reappears to the side, eagerly searching through the traveler's bag. she's a little less mindful about dumping the traveler's belongings on the ground, but eventually she discovers what she's looking for and proudly displays a hardcover book.

      ‎‎ ❝ get this: after al-haitham sent paimon those books, she's been reading up a storm ever since! not only the advanced reading materials but inazuman light novels and fontanian detective novels too. her new favorite's this about a private investigator who⸻ ❞      ‎‎ hands fly to her mouth, starlight eyes widening.       ‎‎ ❝ eek, that's the trouble with all good books: everything's amazing, so it's hard to reveal anything without spoilers. hmm, you should definitely read for it yourself and go in as blind as possible, okay? ❞

      ‎‎ ❝ speaking of reading, that got paimon thinking and⸻hold onto your feather!⸻what if we started a book club together? we could invite everyone we know, even our faraway friends, cast our votes for a book to read together, and meet up discuss it over some delicious food. whaddaya think? ❞

[inscryptions]

there are three constants: the sun, the moon, and alhaitham’s ability to grind kaveh's gears. an unfortunate reality in its own right, though the architect ought to be grateful for any semblance of stability and reliability in his life, considering how often things (and people) seem to slip through his fingers.

the past is complicated, and relationships even more so. a stranger turns into a best friend, and a best friend to…well. whatever this is now. in an odd way, it reminds kaveh of the thesis he once ripped up and pieced back together all those years ago — still comprehensible, though far removed from its original state. 

but even in the face of never-ending arguments and bickering, there is an indisputable truth to contend with: alhaitham has done for him what others have not. and though kaveh is loathe to admit it, he finds that the most unshakeable part of his life is a friend that will never change — for better or for worst. 

he waits for alhaitham to step out before sneaking into the other's bedroom. it’s there that kaveh places a bottle of wine on the nightstand, along with a book titled, “In Other Words — A Unique Collection of “Untranslatable,” Culturally-Bound Words Across Teyvat.” 

A note is stuck to its cover: 

“I skimmed through this and thought you'd find it interesting. ”

With a P.S at the bottom:

“In the spirit of the New Year, drink to whatever it is that makes you happy in your own time. Just make sure you wash your glass after. I've already done the dishes.”

Signed with a flourish,  - Kaveh 

Oh.

I shouldn't be so surprised, considering how sentimental the man is, but finding that Kaveh has obtained gifts for me still takes me off-balance a bit. Perhaps I have only my history with him to blame for my lack of expectation, in which case he has succeeded at springing this gift on me. And how thoughtful it is, as befitting the man: a copy of In Other Words, which despite the resources at my disposable I had had yet to get my hands on the most recent version; and a rather delectable-looking vintage that based on its appearance will do well for welcoming the beginning of the new year. Despite the words on the note, he must've spent some time finding and procuring these items, and for a moment I wonder how much he spent on them. If he hadn't saved up beforehand... well, it makes me curious, and hopeful that he was able to get a good commission preceding their acquisition. And that, of course, he didn't spend all of said commission on these gifts.

I like to think that after so long I have become well-versed in the particular language that is Kaveh, and for all that we (more often than not) rile each other up after our fall-out, we still have at least a shadow of the friendship we once shared. This present wishing me a cordial New Year's is evidence of that on his end. After everything, he still cares in some way, shape, or form. It's... kind of nice, these little moments in which I realize all over again that our brotherhood, though tattered and torn to shreds, was not irreparably burned to ashes.

And now I don't feel as nervous or silly about the new foreign toolset I snuck in his nightstand. If he hadn't gifted me anything, he would've most likely felt embarrassment at having nothing with which to reciprocate as well as believed he'd incurred a debt and attempted to pay it back and, well, that's one headache I definitely don't need. Apparently our timing lined up well in the end, and how funny is that? (I don't think I'll be able to keep a straight face however if that Fontainian curve ruler makes its way into his hair with the rest of his architectural accountrements. No doubt it works well for him, and it still gets me every time that it does so well. It's very Kaveh, now that I think about it.)

I chuckle as I take both presents and hunt down a clean goblet before pouring myself a glass and sitting down to crack open the book. Now I want to see his reaction to the toolset if only for the look on his face.

"Mm, happy New Year indeed."

[avcnturine]

[STUNT DOUBLE] - Why risk an actor's safety when we can risk yours! Take a fall for a friend, or maybe make one take it for you… aveave style

the last place kaveh ever imagines himself is standing on this platform, next to aventurine of all people, surrounded by smoke machines hissing ominously in the background, with half a dozen cameras trained on them. it’s all absurd, but then again, this is exactly the kind of thing he tends to find himself entangled in, somehow.

all that talk last time about how they look alike—honestly, the very notion is beyond him. even now, standing beside him, squinting through the garish blaze of stage lights and the frenetic bustle of crew members moving about, kaveh finds it almost laughable that anyone could make such a comparison.

...but perhaps it's just the thing to get him out of this situation.

he exhales a sharp breath, folding his arms across his chest with the practiced air of someone entirely above this sort of farce.

"well?" he asks, casting an expectant glance at the other. "they only need one person for the shot, and let’s be honest—you’re the gambling man between us. your chances are better than mine."

the architect’s tone carries the unmistakable suggestion that if anyone is going to take the plunge, it will most assuredly not be him.

NOW. . . HOW EXACTLY HAD HE ENDED UP HERE? the so-called aventurine of strategems finds itself atop smoke and mirrors, at the apex of a long drop down to padded mats barely obscured beyond cylindrical machines belching out their special effects just out of sight of the cameras. all half-dozen of them, trained up at them like expectant eyes through the fog. now this must be a little of what it feels like to be a professional athlete, maybe. he folds his arms across his chest, taking a moment to savor the view.

and beside him is an unlikely partner in crime ; he doesn't need to look to suspect the mouth screwed up in that doubtful frown, the eyes peering dubiously over the ledge, the ruffled feathers of a distaste by association.

there'd been a drink or two involved in both of them being here, he's pretty sure.

"well?"

"hm?" nonchalance casts its attention over to the other, and there's the exact face he thought he'd see.

only one person for the shot ; one of them more a gambler than the other. a chuckle indulges the remark, almost cheerful——it's not that mister kaveh's wrong on either account. but he's missing a third, very important fact to go along. "true, my friend. then, by all accounts, only one of us should be up here to begin with. and yet, i don't think i've had so many glasses that i've started seeing doubles of myself."

and as to the question of whether they did look alike enough to be mistaken, he'd leave out for the jury to tell. blond hair, fair features——sure, if you went by half-measures and a glance, you could say there's enough evidence to work with. for his part, he finds the comparison more humorous than anything else, the better half of that owing to mister kaveh's reaction every time it came up.

"no need to worry ; i'm more than happy to jump," he reassures before the other can protest more and steps up to the precarious edge. a scuff of his boot tests the plasticity, lips pulling into a smile when the steel doesn't wobble. he turns around easily then, eager and at peace all at once as both arms open at his sides, letting the rising smoke billow up through the slits in his tailcoat, teal and gold emerald flapping loosely like flight feathers. "but you're sure you don't want to join me? sometimes it's only by casting reason aside that we can truly enjoy the moment."

but he huffs softly, as if capitulating. not everyone shared that spirit, after all, and he couldn't blame them.

so without any further fanfare, he simply tips backwards——and vanishes, plummeting, into the smokescreen. and that should be all there is.

but after a beat comes a crystal clear ding, and something flat and circular flies up at kaveh still standing at the edge, sailing into the palm of his hand to catch.

a poker chip—?

there's only an instant to wonder ; a strong cable unravels out the other side of it without warning and snaps, pulling kaveh headfirst right off the platform after him.

[aevitium]

✧ ˖ @aesthetecomplex asked:

[PAPER KITES] the sun begins its descent now, painting the sky in vibrant shades of orange and pink. wispy clouds catch the dying light, turning a soft shade of lavender as they drift lazily overhead. seabirds glide gracefully on the breeze, their calls mingling with the distant sound of crashing waves. "you seem like you're enjoying yourself," kaveh remarks, his tone pleasant. he joins her on the soft sand, and with a contented smile, the architect leans back, propping himself up on his elbows. he gazes upward at her kite, watching as it twists and twirls with each gust of wind. "what's the inspiration behind your design?"

Attention flits lazily to her company, the already fond smile on her expression curling invitingly. Never one to object to a new friend-- a new life to become acquainted with, a new story to learn-- she welcomes the addition to her evening.

"Of course I am," comes her hum of agreement, "the weather is perfect, the sky is beautiful..." A dreamy sigh. It has been so long since she last could enjoy a place like this, and though the quiet of her old friends' absences hangs heavy around her shoulders, Elysia takes it as little more than a challenge to enjoy it enough for the twelve of them.

Or ten, now, a thought that serves only to soften her expression more.

"Hm?" His second question catches her in that thought, steals her from it with a breath of laughter. "Oh, it's just a reminder of an old friend." She offers the spool it is tied to, an invitation. "I like to imagine it's me up there, carried by the wind among the clouds... Oh, I know it's silly, but I would love to be a kite myself. Though I suppose a bird is more reasonable..."

[huntersoath]

[SHARE A COFFEE] - When in Fontaine, it’s impossible to not see every other person walking around with a cup of coffee from the Café Lutece. With all this commotion, business is booming, and what better way to keep the energy up than with a nice, warm cup o’ joe.

the contrasts between fontaine and sumeru become more pronounced with each visit—everything stands in stark opposition to the nation of wisdom's unwavering focus on matters of the mind.

even the coffee is noticeably different: here, they use a coarser grind of beans and brew it quickly, a far cry from the slow, methodical process he's used to. it results in a drink that's smooth and almost watery in texture, though still full-bodied in flavor. ...there are even options for embellishments—things the pragmatic cafés of his homeland would never consider, like flavored creams and syrups, chocolate shavings, or even scoops of mind-boggling flavors of ice cream.

his gaze falls on one particularly polished individual, seemingly as put-together and refined as they come. kaveh approaches amicably, one hand raised in greeting while the other carefully balances his coffee cup.

"do you have any recommendations?" he asks, nodding toward the menu tacked to the stand behind them. "i've never paired coffee with toppings like these before. i usually just take it as is. i'm open to trying anything so long as it isn't spicy."

The scent of freshly ground coffee beans filled the air of the café, the rich aroma bringing a sense of relaxation to the Duelist who rarely found a moment to stop in the past few days. With all of the foreign visitors flocking to Fontaine, security was tighter than ever-- and as a result, Clorinde spent more hours on the clock and on the job. Picking up an espresso to jumpstart her day wasn't a common occurrence, and she wasn't going to make it a habit; but just this once... She could use the help. Violet eyes flickered towards the familiar barista behind the counter, who offered a friendly nod of acknowledgment towards her; one of which she returns in kind as the line shifts forward, and a warm presence suddenly sidles up beside her. A figure slides into view, a relaxed demeanor accompanying his light, easy tone of voice. She blinks once, twice, before finally registering his words and glancing up towards the menu before the two of them. "Ah, I assume you're a traveler here for the festivities?" Clorinde's voice remained casual and inviting, brow arching as she studied the mug held in the young man's hands. "Truthfully, I'm not much of a coffee person. This is rare for me. If I had to give you a recommendation, though..." A gloved hand raised to rest on her chin as she shifts into an expression of thought, gaze scanning the topics of the menu. There's a singular item that catches her attention, and she brightens slightly before turning her attention back to him. "Café Viennois isn't far from your traditional coffee, but with a bit more espresso and garnishes that are common around Fontaine. Topped with whipped cream and a small dusting of cocoa powder-- simple enough, but it's ... nice." The silence that follows isn't... awkward to her. Though they've never met before, he bears a striking resemblance to a certain blonde that's always remained close to her heart, and the thought nearly makes her chuckle. The interaction all feels effortless, one that could easily slip into familiarity. "Here. Allow me. I'll pay for your drink. Consider it a welcome to Fontaine. I hope you enjoy your stay, Monsieur...?" The Duelist trails off as she emphasizes the lack of a name to put to his face.

[fanfaire]

[ drinks on me ]

the sun hangs high in the sky, casting a warm, honeyed glow over the sand. the salty breeze carries with it the scent of the sea, mingling with the faint aroma of sunscreen and smoke that wafts in from the direction of the harpastum games.

kaveh waits for furina off to the side — with not one, but two drinks in tow.

"i wasn't sure which you'd prefer, so i got both just to be safe," he says with a smile. "i figured you'd need something refreshing after all that running around." in his right hand, a glass of sparkling berry juice. in his left, a frosty concoction made of berries & mint. "you can have both if you'd like. i prefer something stronger, personally."

SHE HADN'T EXPECTED TO BREAK SUCH A SWEAT. maybe it was the outfit she chose. . . maybe it was her decision to keep her hat, even in such menacing heat. with the games concluded, she's more than eager to take it off, fanning herself with its brim amid a deep breath and sigh to clear the last of the tension from her shoulders. a glimmer of the vision at her hip, and a twisting vine of water manifests la chanteuse at her side, her cooling presence bringing a smile of gratitude from the girl in turn.

a flicker of color in her periphery, and furina's attention turns next to the familiar face approaching her with— oh, a pair of drinks? one for himself and one for her, she presumes ; lips part upon a smile to thank him, but he speaks first, revealing her assumption to in fact fall short of his generosity.

". . . both? oh. . . " mouth shapes a small, perfect ' o ' as she takes this in. and in the next instant, it's gone, almost a mirage. she nods, reaching for the one on the left with an elegant acceptance.

"how thoughtful of you! i am parched after that exercise ; you wouldn't realize that tossing around a few balls could be such a workout. but i'll help myself to just the one. you take the other ; it'd only be right."

( she will not let her eyes linger on that sparkling berry juice, no matter how tantalizing it smells ; something that sweet could only set back her regimen by at least a week, and she would never hear the end of it from crabaletta! )

"but where were you, kaveh? i saw you spectating from the side, but surely you didn't think yourself too old to be playing this kind of game anymore, do you?" the look of chastisement, hand upon hip, is almost dry — as though to say ' consider carefully who you're talking to '.

[fragrantwisp]

MORTAL

send MORTAL for a scene from my muse's past in which they had a brush with death, either themselves or someone close to them / / — accepting.

she's thirteen when she learns the fragility of life. her grandpa, built sturdier than the peaks of mt. tianheng, had grown ill. his large hands, thrice the size of her own feeble ones, could only squeeze with fading strength.

she knew that with life comes death. and following death comes new life. a cycle that never rests. only mortals were allowed that luxury at the end. lessons that were instilled since a younger age. however, the weight of such lessons never became fully realized until now.

"please don't leave me." she's knelt by his bedside. hushed prayers masked as whimpers echoing off the room's walls. precocious she may be, in the end, she was still a child. a child who couldn't bear to lose family.

he chuckles in response, aged lines creasing further across his face. not a hint of fear could be found: in his voice, eyes, demeanor, nor heart. to the 75th director, death was akin to an old friend. a friend kind enough to wait. so he cherished the precious time remaining to be with little hu.

because even on his death bed, old hu was very much still alive.