#avcnturine

[dukemeropide]

At least he'd gotten some things right, Wriothesley thinks. The man was a foreigner of some importance, just as he'd guessed, and had staged his incarceration for a specific goal. He's encountered a handful of similar prisoners - the Traveler and her fairy companion among them - and has dealt with them each as their case demands. But that's where the familiar ends.

He hasn't heard of the IPC. He hasn't heard of visitors from space, even though he has some suspicion that Lumine is not from any of Teyvat's nations. Aventurine, cog of the IPC's strategic investment department, suggests there are more of them, besides. And yet, despite all of the unusual details, it boils down to the very same reason the Duke has faced down challengers in both the pankration ring and across a table set for tea: they want control of the Fortress.

The drop of a pin would sound like shattered glass in this following silence, and the Duke's habitual mask settles into place, cold and impenetrable. A moment passes between them, each man studying the other for tells, signs of weakness, the shadows of unspoken thoughts, and then Wriothesley breaks it with a heavy sigh. Tearing his attention from the stoneheart's mesmerizing eyes, he looks instead to the ironclad wolf that looms behind the administrator's throne.

"You'll have to forgive my ignorance," he starts carefully, "but what would your organization want with an old prison rusting under the sea?" Icy eyes swing back to Aventurine, all traces of his earlier humor gone, replaced again with a distant, cautious civility. "This isn't exactly a tourist destination, and it's pretty crowded as it is."

Freedom, as tantalizing as it might be, remains at arm's length - held there by the Duke himself. He looks past it, fixing his attention on the man's nimble fingers instead of the disarming friendliness and empathy in his multicolored eyes.

"The Fontaine you see up on the surface is practically built for the attention though. Let me guess: you spoke with Monsieur Neuvillette and he shut the door in your face."

　♠　⋮﹒ leave no traces

[octoboltflash]

[DRAGON DANCE]⠀/⠀from a distance, he watches as the performing crew argues amongst each other, tempers running high from stress and urgency. it's understandable——they've been working hard on this very critical show and suddenly one of the most important members suffers a freak injury rendering him unable to perform at the last second. another's situation isn't too different, taking him out of the show as well. and now they're left shorthanded, but with a show that definitely couldn't be canceled, lest the spirit of lantern rite suffer an irredeemable blow.

in his line of work, these things happen too. quick fixes, emergency deadlines, sudden setbacks that seemingly can't hope to be recovered from. some of them have set him back too ; some have set the company back as a whole. but all of this, even failure here and there, is still better than the alternative: a stagnant, unchanging bottom line.

he smiles, two-toned gaze soft where it hides, as poorly as ever, behind colored lenses. in their frustrated chaos, rapidly descending to a hopelessness befitting nihility, he sees opportunity more comparable to some other path——whether that was preservation, or trailblaze, or even elation fell to the eye of the beholder. he sees a chance for great chance, unprecedented change——and not far away from him in another direction, a force that excelled at causing just that.

head tilts, rolling leisurely along neck until he can look the dark-haired woman's way. broody as ever, that impenetrable emanator, even when there were celebrations to be had and vicissitudes of life——supposedly——to enjoy. her expression barely changes, and she doesn't even show any sign of noticing him, so he'll have to be the one to break the ice. "how about it, friend? don't you happen to excel exactly in making the impossible, possible? with just one act. . . i'm sure you wouldn't have any problem turning their fortunes around."

In essence, the entire debacle unfolding before her is reminiscent of IX's outlook on the universe-- despite their best efforts and their hours of preparation, it's all for naught in the face of destiny interfering with their plans. While there are those who can effortlessly pluck at the threads of fate, these souls are not of that subset; and as such, they flail and fumble in a desperate attempt to mend the situation that seems hopeless. Not unlike her own fight, she supposes. To rage against a being with no form, tainting all in THEIR Shadow in the same way that her existence had been. A strange, twisted since of "optimistic" nihility-- a living, breathing oxymoron. Though all is lost, what matters is the journey to the end; not its inevitability. The dancers' hours of grueling practice have provided them with experience that cannot be replaced. Regardless of whether their performance succeeds, those moments-- though fleeting-- will remain etched in their souls as a fond memory of time spent together. Much like her time with companions from the past, and much like her time with Nameless girl who fearlessly ventured deep into the depths of IX.

Her reverie is not meant to last long, however, as a familiar voice breaks into her thoughts with little effort. The gambler who staked his life on mere chance has managed to find his way to her once again, and she sets her piercing gaze on his visage without hesitation-- he's nearly see-through, as he was before, filled with an emptiness he desperately chases to fill. Perhaps, with time, he'll find his purpose... and at the Horizon of Existence, Acheron believes that Aventurine has finally grasped the beginning of understanding his actuality in this universe. Or she hopes, at least. As much as she can still hope. "You overestimate my capabilities," Acheron huffs in her usual flat tone, one hand resting on her hip. "I wouldn't say that fortune bends in my favor." A pause follows, her fingers tapping on the end of Naught's hilt. It's nearly hesitation that flashes across her features, head tilting slightly to make an attempt at judging her companion's goal. "The regrets they face are inevitable. You intend to make a fruitless gamble on whether or not I hold the ability to change their fate?"

Neither of them can escape what's been preordained for them. Yet it doesn't stop them from trying, and the human spirit has always been indomitable. "Very well. I have one condition-- you accompany me. Your flair for the dramatic may serve this troupe well. All or nothing, correct?"

[trailblczed]

About AVENTURINE

Let's here your thoughts, Caelus! || Accepting.

❛ First meeting him in the lobby where after just saying "Hi" and trying to hand me credits just for being a bro was.. odd, but amusing in a way. Something about him, maybe how he carried himself, kept catching my attention. Was excited to get to know another I.P.C. member after Topaz and the Jarilo complication. Though...After Penacony, my feelings about Aventurine are... complicated, to say the least. ❜

A moment to collect his thoughts, one hand coming to squeeze the pointer finger on the other hand to settle his nerves.

❛ I don't hate the guy- I like him on a personal level. He's fun and funny. But just because I like hanging out with him, doesn't mean I can trust him, or be fully comfortable with him..

Now I can't claim to be some sort of genius tactician- or even just smart in general. But.. I don't see why someone would go out of their way to be super friendly, make a deal to be allies, then turn around and throw said allies "under a bus"--- I think that's the saying.

I don't know what caused him to do what he did, and I can only be thankful we had Acheron there with us-- But just.. why..? What purpose does it serve to reveal that... reveal my.. ❜

Another pause, finger in a near choke hold. He doesn't know why saying it aloud is so unnerving- why it bothers him so much. But it's not as if people don't know now-

❛ Thanks to Aventurine, my status as the host of a Stellaron is now public knowledge. And that, alone, terrifies me, because who knows what kinds of people are out there that will now come after the Nameless.. After me..

But-- there's still a part of me that, for some reason, refuses to dislike him. Something-- somehow, somewhere-- is telling me that Aventurine can.. or is.. still my friend. Or maybe that's just me getting my hopes up! Ahah..❜

[balemouns]

"About FURINA" and "About AVENTURINE" yeah im making u do two

Send me “About [NAME]” for my character’s thoughts on another character! - accepting!

About FURINA.

"perhaps it should be none of my concern, but I do wonder at times what fontaine's beloved former goddess finds herself preparing for her meals without the staff she was once accustomed to crafting them for her. lady furina couldn't be surviving on cakes and macarons alone, could she...?" a pause as though she's listening, then a short laugh before she continues. "...starches and carbohydrates then, for the most part? I suppose that shouldn't be shocking, she has always seemed quite fond of sweets... the meals we prepare at the house would be much better for her health in the long term, though. next time the children wish to bring her something, I'll see if they want to offer a little pork steak alongside the confectionaries... it would be such a shame for them to see her lose her mortality to a sugary end."

About AVENTURINE.

"since meeting that fellow, I've spent some time reflecting on what about him feels so familiar and so foreign... aside from the advanced technology he carries with him, of course. I think it comes down to the capacity he has for collaboration when there's mutual benefit for those involved -- though if the other party did not stand to gain anything, I'd bet he'd be just as willing to take on a naive partner in an endeavor. I had considered then, too, that there was a quality to him that was quite like that of most of my colleagues among the harbingers... at the same time, his capacity for risk-taking stood out as more like that of my youngest coworker, who's always seemed much less likely to treat people that way." a shrug. "both highly intelligent and audaciously reckless. not something you see often."

[taixuandream]

"before you can protect others from darkness, you should first be able to protect yourself."

Those words sound familiar. They are the echoes of Deliverance who'd long fallen from his place as leader of those who ran towards the flame. They are the whispers of Disciple, to never lose herself in the waves of endless heat. They are melody cascading from the ascent of Gold, the light at the edge of Daybreak, the shadows of Ego, and the end of Decimation. There were others, but no point to be made in their memory.

Even her codename defied such a statement. "Vicissitude." Unwanted, undesired, unpleasant change. There was never the option to protect herself, it was never even a possibility. It was always her mission, never a desire. Each era wrought with seeping vility, lost if not for those who fought hopelessly.

In chasing a dream that was never hers, she had lost herself once before, tasting the precipice of Taixuan. This is what she was made for, to throw rocks and sticks, never born to quit.

"I don't think I know how to..." 50,000 years, her sense of self burned in the kindling of rebirth countless times. Perhaps it was yearning for rest.

"My hopes come from those I want to protect. My comfort from friends and comrades so far away." Though she'd lost those original bonds, new ones strengthened the resolve of a Phoenix. Who she once was bore little resemblance to the girl she was now. One very special person was the very reason she still stood now. Her own, foolish self-sacrifice overruled by a stubborn friend.

"Because they will protect. They'll pull me from even the darkest reaches. They already have." To find a way back home. 'Wanna run away from me? Not a chance!' Though she'd grown feigned familiarity with the passage of time, she was never alone. "They'll protect me."

[iustitians]

[WPM] How quickly can your character type, read or write?

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

---

Very! Well, at least when it comes to official and legal documentation. As Neuvillette himself says, he has several hundred years of practice under his belt, and his duties, which would have been a serious and exhausting job for a human (or more like several humans, really), have become a simple routine to him. His natural knack in combination with all the experience he has in this aspect mean that reading such documents and immediately catching all the details required from them is completely natural to him.

The same goes for writing them, be it by hand on or the typewriter. Official documentation is, more often than not, going to have a set model and pattern - especially in a land as obsessed with such things as Fontaine - so he can produce those without thinking. In fact he is capable of writing a document while having a conversation with someone about a completely different topic at the same time, he just doesn't really do that because he believes it would be rude. If he's gonna talk to someone, he offers them his full attention.

Of course, as I mentioned in the beginning, what I said applies in particular to the kinda stuff he reads and writes at work. Give him a romance novel and he'll probably look at it like this

Not that he cannot understand and enjoy a regular book. Sure he can, similarly to how he enjoys performances at the Opera Epiclese. But those would take him a significantly longer amount of time, because he cannot really apply a standardized model to them - each has to be analyzed individually, and with him being the kinda guy he is, boy is he going to analyze it. (As well as himself and his own reactions while experiencing it, because that's also something he pays a lot of attention to.) So you'll have to give him a bit longer with those. And some books I think would be genuinely difficult for him to grasp.

I honestly wanna say that I don't think he reads that many books, though. Sometimes for sure, there is a mention of him buying a book in Sigewinne's web event if I remember right, but I definitely think he prefers performances.

[huuuugestmoney]

[ SOUVENIR ]　/　whoever arranged this tropical island getaway hadn't cut any corners. the market streets stretche seemingly without end — a bustling, kaleidoscopic bazaar of stalls one after another, tarp after display of trinkets, clothes, and jewelry for the covetous eye. aventurine won't deny he's tempted, but his pay grade isn't worth just your run-of-the-mill selection of tourist goods. and neither are those he's been tasked with shopping for.

a tall, indigo-topped man catches his eye. makes sense he'd be at a place like this, doesn't it.

"sampo, isn't it?" he wears a smile and a pleasant cordiality like dressage on approach, waiting for the other to turn and process the company before he continues. "aventurine, of the ipc's strategic investment department. we'll just waive the formal introductions, and assume someone so well-informed is already aware."

"we might not be well-acquainted, but the truth is today i could use someone like you. i hear you have a keen eye, good at panning out gold from the rocks. i'm looking for a souvenir for someone with discerning tastes. what do you say?" one-hundred-thousand credits changes hands easily, one deft palm to another. "i could use your skill."

Well, well, well - if it isn't his patron, ish.

Sampo has had his reservations in dealing with the IPC - but today's quote-unquote "adversary" could just as well be tomorrow's partner, yes? Nothing is life is ever free, of course - not even 'free giveaways' but hey! They come close!

Sampo had thought twice about the tickets being offered,

but the fine print had looked innocent enough, and so he'd not bothered to think on them thrice.

Now he wonders if maybe he should have.

Sampo isn't sure whether he should feel flattered or wary that Aventurine isn't the only one here whose reputation precedes him - or, rather, that this number includes Sampo himself. Instinct suggests the latter, flaring caution, but he really, really wouldn't mind the former and getting to preen a little-- ahem. Right.

To the business at hand, then.

Sampo knows a job when he hears one.

"Hehe. You sure have a way with words, Mister Aventurine."

The feel of money is nice. So nice!

It's the best thing since sliced bread, really.

But damn if being handed this kind of lump sum with little preamble doesn't set the hairs at the nape of Sampo's neck on edge. The credits are carefully - yet deftly - stowed away, and Sampo can but beam at his new client. Clasping his hands togetther, fiddling with the edge of his glove a moment, he chuckles. Now that he's been hyped up, he can't well go gently about this, can he?

"I won't let you down, sir! Sampo Koski is on the job!"

[jadeshielded]

‘You? You, set in your ways as you are…will you be alright traveling to a new world alone?’

Under scrutiny, Zhongli couldn’t quite muster an appropriate response for his immediate acceptance of entirely different worlds to rival their own. It didn’t matter- the moment came and went and carried the conversation safely away from whatever defense he had for the uncharted territory.

Even then, it takes years for him to truly decide, and for what reason? He is mortal, in the most fragile sense, and should he not turn his gaze beyond the stars of Liyue? Of Teyvat? Ever mindful of the countless years weighing his steps and determining his comforts, he decides to visit the Xianzhou Luofu on the many assertations that the culture and customs would give him a sense of familiarity, of home.

He chooses to believe that they meant well when they said this.

It is beautiful, Zhongli concedes this to himself as he tucks the ends of long, dark hair into his arm so that it doesn’t fly in the face of the passenger to his left when the starskiff disembarks. The artificial atmosphere is set to a radiant sun that makes prismatic light color the clouds as they cut through, docking in the main area for several minutes before heading for his destination.  

“You sure you’re getting off here?” The driver is a foxian, kind-faced and just as well meaning when she asks a second time if he’s sure. It doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s the only person that’s journeyed in this direction, but that only pleases him in the end. “Okay, well…just be careful. Fyxestroll Garden’s getting a reputation these days, if you know what I mean.”

He doesn’t, but he thanks her for the well-wishing, nonetheless. While he didn’t require a guide, it would have been nicer to have someone to chat with here. The streets and alleyways were constantly so crowded with denizens that had nowhere else to roam, leaving him to wade through while contemplating the lifeless stone underneath his feet. This was not a planet, but a ship, leaving him to wonder if all planets would feel this way, or if the lack of a core, a lacking heartbeat existed to serve the nature of the Xianzhou’s purpose.

It feels restricting, like an adeptal abode set to house an entire city with no room to expand. So, when he takes the path that led to tranquil gardens, he is delighted to find it empty, following the thriving greenery to luxurious waterfalls and beyond. “Pardon me,” He says to a guard as he passes, ill attuned to the feather-light touch that flows through him before the apparition is gone entirely. ‘It’s difficult to tell,’ He muses, nodding to a few real guards that attempt to guide him toward a safer path, ‘Places of spiritual energy in Liyue are often stained into the foundation itself’. War could still rattle the bones in certain bloodstained trenches, but how could it here? Where every stone and river and tree was artificially placed-

An interesting thing to ponder, at the very least.

He finds himself in front of a stream, alive and bubbling so perfectly that he is grateful for the stone perch that allows him to sit and enjoy it, gaze unfocused as he chimes out the piece of his mind that has been constantly comparing one thing to another.

In the end, he finds the setting pleasant. He’d come tomorrow, surely, and the next day. Maybe even with a guide, if he could find one.

Even distracted, he can sense faraway gazes that trace his frame, electing to ignore them until they bring themselves closer. Without turning his head, molten eyes move to track children (though it is difficult to be sure, given his understanding of Xianzhou lifespans) as they tiptoe erratically around the clearing.

“We already got pictures!” One says, feminine and hushed in the way that actors will whisper to be heard. “Why are we here? We’re gonna get possessed!”

“I wanna be in the shot, Arie, stop whining, it hasn’t moved in like, thirty minutes. Haha, my ‘Heliobus or commissioner?’ poll has like, over a thousand answer already.”

“It’s looking right at us!”

It, and while Zhongli isn’t up to par on customs and dialogue, he can’t stop how his expression furrows with distaste at the disrespect, unfolding his hands slowly as stands to ask if he can be of any assistance-

To be met with shrill shrieks as they turn tail and scurry away.

He sighs, years of experience telling him that knowing would be the beginning of a headache, he takes this as a omen to continue his stroll sooner rather than later. Slowly, he notes the gardens becoming more populated – young civilians listing here and there but giving him a wider berth than truly necessary.

All but one, moving with enough languid intent that Zhongli nearly believes the encounter to be made of pure luck. Unfolding gloved hands where they rest at his back, his gesture is one of friendly acknowledgement. Be it his dress or the shock of blonde set over unusual eyes, Zhongli guesses that the Xianzhou might not be his home, though stays his tongue and slows his steps in favor of hiding his ignorance, allowing the other to come to him instead.  

@avcnturine

| like calls to like |

Gnostic Hymns, Fyxestroll Garden Commission

[trailblczed]

[ sunglasses ]　/　"what a coincidence. just who i was looking for." the early morning sun catches stoneheart and nameless just beyond the steps of the quaint row of catered villas that came with the tickets' promised package. this planet didn't adhere to system hours, but heat hasn't risen yet to intolerable levels with the daylight still young. and just his luck, mister stellaron looked to be on his own — taking a leave of absence for himself this time? he remembers he'd explicitly extended his offer to the rest of the astral express too when this one'd accepted the deal.

anyway, that's not what he'd wanted to say today.

"it looks like you just keep rolling high, friend. i was hoping to find someone to gift something truly remarkable, and you're in the right place at the right time. here, take this."

without preamble, he presses a sleek, velvety grey case into the young man's hand, declaring quality from its clean edges to the soft cashmere fibers against the fingertips.

"top of the line, the newest generation VITA-series frame eyewear, running at three-hundred-seventy-eight grand. the products they sent us are good, but i still prefer the ones i'm using. so, enjoy. i think the navigator style will suit you, and you're in luck — this color should fit you too. titanium rims and diamond-pressed detail. and, of course, ultraviolet protection and anti-reflective coatings. try them out while you're here ; protecting your vision is still important even on vacation."

Caelus makes a mental note that if the Express ever goes to another planet that has a semi-tropical climate, or has a temperature rating above 80Fahrenheit / 27Celsius that he is sitting that trip OUT. Most might not find it too awful a heat, but that does not include the silver-- to be fair, he's naturally hotter thanks Stellaron so his opinion may be a tad of an outlier.

At the sound of a familiar voice, lad turns to the source and is blinded both by sun and by bright blond locks. He was about to make a comment about how bad Aventurine's dice pun was ( teasingly of course, he loves a good pun and thought it was quite a Chef's Kiss one ) when something is ushered into his hand. Caelus stares at it, befuddled, before registering it's something he can physically open and that what the blond was referring to was inside.

A moment as he inspects the gift, curious as to what is so familiar about the specific style when it clicks- a roaring laugh unrestrained as he pulls the shades out of the box, quickly putting them on.

❛ I see I see! Is it part of a Brother Hanu collection? I must say the accuracy is fairly on point! ❜

Lad has to hold back jokingly giving a "hmph" and other grunting sounds instead of actual words when his brain seemingly catches up, or fully processes, Aventurine's words that came with the pair of sunglasses. Sputtering and frantic as Caelus takes the shades off, disbelief and concern etched on his every feature.

❛ T---Three-hundred-sev--------- Aven--- WHAT? I appreciate the thought, really I do! There's---- There's just no way I can accept something so fancy or expensive! I would likely get them broke within a week--! ❜

There is a reason he sticks to finding his goods in garbage bins. Can't break something that's already damaged. Still in a panic, Caelus glances around before looking at the ground, swiftly placing the shades back in their case before reaching into his pocket and pulling out all kinds of random things he's been collecting ( including but not limited to: cool looking rocks, a flat pale looking disk he was told was called a "sand dollar", and some shark teeth ). Through crazed rummaging he's able to feel the item he was looking for-- a very unique and gorgeous looking shell he had found earlier that morning. The silver wants to give the sunglasses back, but something tells him that Aventurine won't let him ( if their past interactions in Penacony's Grand Hotel were anything to go by ), so at least Caelus could give what he deems the most worthy item he has on him as thanks. Nameless yoinks it out, similarly shoving it into the other's hand in a way that leaves no room for argument, nor returns ( you ain't got a receipt to do it with! no take-backsies ).

❛ I know it's not nearly on the same level to be considered a fair trade but-- Here. ❜

[balemouns]

[SHARE A COFFEE]⠀/⠀"so this is where you're from." the stoneheart is a picture of skillful smiles and adroit fluency as he slides into the leather-cushioned booth against the wall of the cozy cafe, steaming cup and saucer in hand. the large window beside them provides ample light, presenting a wide-angle view of the commercial street corner outside, yet fixed with good enough insulation to let in none of the sound.

visible. cozy. quaint. he's actually never been much of a coffee shop patron, but there's always a first time for everything when seeing new sights.

"it feels a little different from you, doesn't it. of course, i don't mean that as a bad thing——plenty of people don't resemble their homelands much." once the latte's reached a nicer temperature, he lifts the cup and takes a shallow sip, blowing lightly across the surface. the fluff of air and whipped cream wobbles. hm. too much sugar.

"anyway, i've since learned that you run an orphanage here in fontaine. suddenly a lot of things from that temple make sense. that young magician——lyney——i think i understand things a little better now. you must have a really extraordinary institution."

it's been far too long since she last encountered her unlikely ally -- nearly two seasons ago, in fact, with winter approaching. even by a window, the light inside the café is dimmer than the outside patio, but surroundings are also quieter, better for asking questions. what brings him back here, now? if he's truly from beyond the stars, what value can be taken from teyvat?... and, of course, there's only so much she can offer, for whatever value his organization's superior technology can offer. arlecchino stirs her own coffee mindlessly as he settles in --- his second comment almost prompts an offer to clarify something she suspects he's been wondering about for some time. "ah... well, to belong in a particular place is a luxury only some of the children in my organization can afford. lyney is lucky to count himself amongst those children," and she herself is not one of them. nevertheless, to address the third, "...the house of the hearth offers home for any child missing it, no matter the capacity in which it is needed. but from what you've described, it sounds like you've learned more about what we are, or what we do."

a glance out the window, then down to her coffee. this time, it is dark, only a touch of sugar added that has long-since dissolved, despite her own insistent stirring as she thinks. "...it's not just here in fontaine -- the house is in every nation of teyvat. it makes us an invaluable network of information... and yet, despite our reach, I have learned nothing more about you since we last spoke. I assume we're meeting again because your own organization has some interest in teyvat, no...? it can't just be this film festival, mr. aventurine."

[tempered-chill]

in diamonds and gold

w/ @avcnturine for the shackling prison break prompt!

[crimsondragcn]

@avcnturine | Cont

The thing about an infection is that, so often, it can disguise itself as other things, making diagnosis and treatment all the more difficult. The rot festering within the Alchemy Commission is similar; it is never easy at first glance to tell what a smile may be hiding. What may be genuine can easily be mistaken as ill-intentioned to the over suspicious, and the naive can find themselves falling so quickly into a carefully orchestrated trap if they allow themselves to walk blindly.

An open palm with a golden coin is extended towards her in offering. Now Lingsha just has to wonder; is it an olive branch or a trap that sits before her?

She smiles and laughs airily, the same kind of polite tone people would expect for polite chatter around the watercooler before returning to their workstations. “Four times? That would be rather impressive, if it is indeed true and not just a humble exaggeration.” All with the same coin too? Now what reason could there be for that sort of bravado, except to impress her into foolish awe of unproven skill?

(There are too many people around to clearly identify the scent of any lies. From him, she gets the tang of the metal the coins are made from, and the smell of cardstock that makes up playing cards. And then, beneath that and so faint beneath whatever cologne he might be wearing, it’s almost barely there…the faint smell of sand.)

She pinches the coin between two fingers, holding it up between them. The light catches and reflects off it; it looks every bit the ordinary coin that it appears to be. “If it truly is such a lucky coin, then surely you wouldn’t part with something like this for free?” She doesn’t have the skill to do any fancy tricks as he had; she simply catches the coin in her palm and lowers her hand to smile at him once more. “Is this so-called blessed coin of the gods being offered by a demon?”

in for a penny

Jade Mystery - Lantern Rite

[feidant]

#FEIDANT.　⁀➷　closed roleplay blog for 𝐅𝐄𝐈𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎 from HONKAI: STAR RAIL, affiliated with gnostic hymns. directed by rai ( she / he ).

heylo it's rai, after many moons with the honor of writing for feixiao! i'm 30, in eastern time, and hanging out otherwise on @fanfaire and @avcnturine here at gnostic hymns. 　

i enjoy exploring complex character dynamics and situations with a lot of moral and emotional nuance on both sides. as with all my blogs, i do maintain a thread cap for myself because i don't like to keep my partners consistently waiting⠀(⠀and because if i overload myself, i freeze up and panic-drop, and i don't enjoy finding myself there.⠀)⠀thanks for understanding. 　

as always, i use the cn dub as the basis for my portrayals, so there may be some variation from characterization as presented in other dubs. 　

and a couple feixiao portrayal notes.

(⠀2.5 spoilers!!⠀)　i'm choosing to interpret the events of the end of 2.5 as feixiao's moon rage condition not being cured by swallowing the fragment of the plaguemark, as i think this makes for a better narrative for her and, more importantly, more compelling to rp. however, i do hc subtle changes in her condition, which may be expanded on elsewhere. if knowing these details is relevant for your muse⠀(⠀i.e. jiaoqiu or moze, or any character who might be able to detect her unseen condition⠀),⠀please let me know. 　

good guy plot armor and a need for marketability positions feixiao in canon such that we are encouraged to see her as cool at all times, but let's face it——she displays belligerence, brutishness, and egotism, and certainly sees herself as the protagonist of her own story. i'm interested in exploring these aspects of her that i think canon is reluctant to bring out, as well as her behaviors and beliefs that run closer to borisin values. this is a psa mainly to say that feixiao thinking she's swag does not always mean mun thinks she's swag, and that other muses are free to have their own views on her behaviors now that we are outside the bubble of hoyo protag goggles, HAHA.

[garmgeyr]

”A flashy blond with striking eyes. Got it.” Gallagher smiles like he might just have an idea about who this person could be, but then again, his smiles always seem to be withholding some sort of secret.

”Anything else I can get for you while you wait?” he asks. “Another one? I’ll have that fixed right up.”

Retreating down the bar a little ways, he gathers up a new glass and the ingredients to make a second round. It’s easy, fluid, done almost without thought, all the while Gallagher’s eyes make periodic sweeps of the lounge. He nods occasionally at regulars and new faces alike. Some pass him by with a ‘hello’, others don’t seem to notice him at all, but he keeps a vigilance about him as if tallying everyone who comes and goes.  The drink is done in no time, not a single thing measured, yet just as beautiful as the first. He carries it over to his somber patron.

”Here—“ He’s cut off suddenly by the loud opening notes of a bright dance number, one of the sentient saxophones on stage honking away under the spotlight. Gallagher turns to look over his shoulder, driven half by instinct, half by the curiosity to see who’s playing next as if hoping to find an old friend. A crowd begins to surge around the stage now that it’s obvious the main event is just about to begin, but there is a split second of complete coincidence when a sea seems to part in front of the lefthand entrance. The spotlights flip upwards, catching the double doors right as they open to a young man - flashy, blond, with striking eyes.

Amused, Gallagher nods in his direction and then looks back at the one who’d been waiting for him. ”Is that your friend?”

Low Spirits

veritas ratio & aventurine & gallagher thread 一 " Invitation "

[balemouns]

between looks from teammates, she watches for another opening -- cautious forward action seems to be close to breaking again. what will happen next? this whole fight started because... space rends. a woman with long pale hair and a young man appear through at the other side where her children fight alongside sedene and the chief justice, almost more horrifying than the goddess before her in their sudden arrival. did that mean... was one sister already lost?

arlecchino rolls 5 energy.

free arm juts out, sharp nails at the end of blackened hand pointing towards the new arrivals. then, voice calls out to the fiery goddess. "... looks like the exact kind of individuals I discussed with you have made their way here. are you sure this is still a fight you want to have, one worth your life, or the lives of your sisters? it's not too late."

no response comes from within golden heat -- fast steps pace out of the way before action can replace an answer. then, polearm twirls, brows lower, and arlecchino tries again. "why did you listen to us on the beach?"

this time, a booming voice rises -- the goddess speaks. "to give you all a chance to end up on the right side of this conflict. i see now it was undeserved."

undeserved? a quick glance in aventurine's direction, noting gallagher's approached him again with a new refreshment; was that what they had agreed to with her? "...that's not what I remember." arlecchino shakes her head as attention turns back, and steps keep moving around her target. are we really not that alike, my lady? fire scorned, bitter, burning with resentment capable of consuming all it cares for. but where crimson tinged with black was carefully stoked in a hearth, gold and orange burns wildly out of control. "I recall discussing your point of view, wanting to come to terms with how your sisters really feel, finding a resolution for the bad blood between you. at most, advocating for your perspective. where did that become picking a side at all?"

another lick of angry flame, heat warning of its arrival as she answers once more. “then you misunderstood.”

some fires can't be contained ------- another opening. arlecchino lunges forward rapidly again, jabbing steel polearm deep.

[1 energy] ARLECCHINO 10/10HP hits BETRAYAL ARISEN 3.5/50HP with Invitation to a Beheading [Roll: 7 + 1 = 8, (Pinion's Aria activates!) -3.5HP]. BETRAYAL ARISEN 0/50HP. (Phoenix Incarnate activates!) Player Phase ends.

a wave of heat erupts outward, knocking back all those on this side of the battle --- a bird of fire reborn again, wasn't that the legend they'd discussed in the temple? ... but the wave hits hard, and another outpouring of gold follows it, with the autumn goddess landing another hit. gold again, goddess again. barely a breath seems to pass, even a blink --- and the dust starts to settle, revealing both herself and the winged goddess trapped in similar glowing binds.

ARLECCHINO is inflicted with imprisonment and cannot act.

Over and Over, Like a Tune—

˚ʚ [waning sun x temple of betrayal crossover woo ] ɞ˚

[sweepingthunder]

A hand comes away from his face, palm open, facing the darkened sky. His sole shoulder raises to match it, the other more occupied with his needless poking. "Perhaps it's just nature of a vacation. Makes it easier to expose skeletons that I've kept in the closet.." Though such comments only offer hints of doubt, his tone letting on to something deeper. "Though wouldn't that make me a fool? To provide one of the IPC's best men with such useful information? How thoughtless of me."

The Hunt did not wait for those that could not keep up. A soldier died, became consumed by Abundance, or would go missing. Those funerals lasted a day. Sure, individuals would cherish them, or yearn for them long after their rest, but the rest of the Xianzhou carried on. Sent off into the stars. Despite what traditions the Xianzhou had, none of his former friends were ever given the luxury of a proper sendoff. No one mourned those lost.

"Our path does not dictate our emotion nor our pain. Just because we fight does not mean we cannot feel loss. Though, I'm sure that doesn't need to be said." Pursed lips, eyes finding the blonde mans own. "But it is as you say. Our traditions don't involve burials, not unless someone is from outside of our fleet. We mourn quick." Not Jing Yuan. This burden was one deeply rooted. Ingrained hypocrisy, a fault Jing Yuan did not wish to reflect on.

The arrow guided the Luofu forward, remorseless. They did not look back, they did not hold back. To break through, to push on, that was the nature of The Hunt. Even in thought, there is joy. Those battles were a step towards the goal eliminating their curse. While they may never be free, they can fight until they are no more in hopes they would be.

"It is hard to say though. As I said, I would not change what had happened. There is no saving what is lost." Eyes find the flame again. "And yourself, gambler? Your preservation comes at a cost, with change being required to fit your terms and conditions. What is it you truly care to preserve? Your own desires?" Though accusatory in nature, he is softer than that.

♠　⋮﹒ time past and to come

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