#ophelia. hsr au.

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Ophelia - HSR AU Notes

- Path of Preservation + Imaginary DMG

- Still works as a mechanic

- either in Belebog or Penacony (I'm torn cause both feel like they match Ophelia's vibe and backstory

- Their weapon is a lance but they definitely have a wrench that comes into play sometimes

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Loosely clasping their hands together, fingers fidgeting just a touch as they focused on trying to not startle him. They knew they couldn't make anybody afraid of them, but that didn't mean he didn't seem a touch like an animal backed into a corner - wire strung tight and ready to snap. Shuffling a couple steps backwards to give him more space, their smile only slightly dimmed, fading just a touch as they thought over the gravity of his words.

Tightening their grip on their own fingers, Ophelia's shoulders lifted a little, their gaze drifting and minorly glazing over as they spoke, voice soft and near-wistful. "I suppose that is true in a...factual sense. But...life isn't just in you or me. Life is all around us. From my corpse, animals might sate their hunger. The roots of flowers may one day find purchase and shelter within my bones. The wind may carry my last breath to the frozen sea in the same gust that it carries the songs of birds. In all of them I will live on in eternity. Perhaps even some hauntings are those who have passed on wondering over the persistence of life."

Coming back to themself after a moment, Ophelia's cheeks and ears were dusted with rose as they shook their head. "Ah! My apologies, I got a bit carried away with my penchant for poetry."

Darting back towards the kitchen, they paused in the doorway, flush still present but their expression once more open and welcoming. "Is there a meal you like in particular? I uh...I don't know many from out of Belobog, but I would happy to try if that will um...suit you better than a Belobogian meal might."

"Some tea, at least? I have both hot and cold varieties, and you're more than welcome to pick whichever one sounds the best!" They were not certain how long he would be staying, but they hoped to at least not make his trip worse.

[ @stxrsfxte ― ★ ]

His stance was guarded (despite the apparent lack of any visible threat), sword clenched in his gloved hand. Amber eyes were cold as they moved towards the sound of them laying down their tools, regardless of how minuscule the sound seemed to the everyday ear. Grip briefly tightened on the hilt, fingertips lightly tapping on the surface.

Keeping his eyes firmly on them, Blade huffed at their words. "You speak so fondly of it. Impossible. When we've met our end, there is no other sign or possibility of life. It's final." Blunt and sharp, yet there was a barely detectable sense of knowing or perhaps even longing. The connection to life, for him, had been all but severed. Permanently. What use did he have other than meting out vengeance and bringing forth destruction in his wake? That was no way to live life, so much so he may as well not be living to begin with.

Almost like a wary feline, he ever so slightly bared his fanged canines at the sight of their hand being so close, moving back a few steps. Yet the strange softness in their smile didn't go unnoticed as he averted his gaze to focus on his sword. It unnerved him. He was the last being on this planet that deserved such a look.

"Hauntings are remnants of life. Lost souls left wandering with unfinished deeds and debts."

At the mention of possible food, he barely moved, merely peeked back at them out of the corner of his vision. "You can make something for yourself. I won't be having anything."

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❛ have you come to laugh at me in my miserable state? ❜ {Blade for Ophelia!}

Hands stilled mid reach. They knew he would shy away from touch, but the want to help had led to them extending their hands towards him - leaving him to take one if he needed the help to stand. Perhaps the reason why his words felt like ice water against their spine then was because they had hoped to be slowly gaining his trust. Had they been selfish? Again? Did he truly want them to leave? Was he like the stray dogs that barked and snapped his canines to keep away all who might see his wounds - even when the hands reaching are those that wish to help?

Clenching their hands to keep from trembling too visibly, Ophelia cast their gaze to the ground close to where the crimson ribbon he wore on his back spilled onto the ground. Taking a deep breath, they took another step towards him, eyes resting on his cheek, just below his eye. They weren't strong, and sometimes the instinct to flee and duck their head or bare their throat was nearly overflowing. Keeping their eyes from meeting his gaze was more for their own sake than anything as they quietly spoke. "Do you truly think of me as that cruel? To laugh when you are in pain?"

Kneeling beside him, Ophelia glanced at his hands, repressing the urge to sigh. "No, I wouldn't dream of laughing at you in such a state. I just...I don't have my medical aid kit on me, but I want to help. Will you let me? Even if you just stay here, I can go get the kit." They weren't about to try and force him to do anything (not that they would dream of trying to do so anyway), but they did hope he'd accept their help, if not their hand.

"You're welcome to rest and recover in my home for as long as you need."

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“I’m fine. I don’t need your help.” {…Boothill for Ophelia? 👀👉👈}

Lips down-turned, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, Ophelia looked him over once more. Gnawing on their lip, they fiddled with their fidget gears, the need to do something thrumming through their veins. While they understood being wary of others, they didn't quite understand how so many people who visited Jarilio could be so...resistant to help. Maybe it due to living in the Underworld for so long and having to rely on the other underworlders to survive and get as close to thriving as one could, but Ophelia really didn't understand the insistence on doing things alone.

Then again, their only interactions with those from outside of Jarilio were still very limited. If they could explore the worlds outside of their home, perhaps they'd understand more.

As it stood, they held out their hands as they looked him over. "I think a check up would do you good. I can hear something sparking in your...uh, armor? If not from me, then you should at least go see Natasha for a medical check up. Electrical burns can be irritating to deal with," They knew from experience unfortunately, "and even if that isn't the problem, it's better to be safe than sorry."

Twisting their gears together, they bit their lip for a second before brightening just a touch. "If you stay long enough to make sure you aren't hurt, or to get it taken care of, I can make you something! It can be mechanical or a repair to a weapon or.... Well, if you're hungry, I've got plenty of food, and I'd be happy to make something for you." Clasping their hands behind their back as they talked, Ophelia crossed their fingers and hoped he wouldn't be so stubborn as to be detrimental to his own help. "Please? Just for a day, if that? Just long enough to patch you up if you need it?"

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[ HELD ] sender sits sideways,  cradled in receiver’s lap.  {Blade for Ophelia- ;-; Likely after he suffered through a Mara-struck event & crashed afterwards.}

Heart caught in their throat, Ophelia just barely managed to catch Blade when he fell, thankful their work with machines left them with enough strength in their arms to be able to move them both out any immediate lines of sight, all while cradling him close. Pressing their ear to his chest, they let a tiny sliver of relief into their mind at the sound of his heartbeat. It took only a couple moments before they sank to their knees and situation Blade to rest against them, his head on their shoulder, their arm wrapped around his back for support as they gently brushed their fingers through his hair with their other hand.

Though uncertainty filled them, Ophelia did their best to keep their touch firm enough that he wouldn't fall, but light enough to avoid causing him anymore pain. They hadn't quite seen what had happened, but they'd heard the sounds of destruction clear as day. It was what sent them running in his direction in the first place - the fear that he was in trouble.

Slowing their breathing, they hummed softly as they held him - though they avoided the urge to rock back and forth, just in case that would hurt him more - and kept their fingers in his hair. "Blade? Can...you can hear me, right? Wh-what will help you the most right now?" There had to be something they could do to help ease the pain. There had to be something! If nothing else, they could probably carry him back to their workshop, resting in a bed would probably be more comfortable and helpful than in their lap.

Unintentionally, they started humming again - the simple tune from one of their music boxes back in the workshop - in between the murmured reassurance of, "I'm here. I'm not leaving you."

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Resting their hand over his own, Ophelia leaned into the touch, lips brushing against his palm as their eyes closed - if only for a moment - at the softness of the touch. No one was ever capable of just one thing. That was a truth they firmly believed in. Even if one's name was that of a tool or a weapon, they had pure faith that anyone could change or learn something new. He may view himself as a weapon, if his name was anything to go off of, but that just made the gentleness of his touch all the more comforting, all the more...exciting for them to be on the receiving end of.

Oh, his voice. No matter how little he spoke at times, they loved the sound of it. Smiling softly, Ophelia kept a tight hold on the burst of bravery they had to lean in closer till the distance between them was barely that of a thin sheet of paper.

Lightly trailing their fingers across the back of his hand, up his arm to round the curve of his shoulder to trace thin lines down his back, their hand settled on his hip. Their hand tangled in his hair rested against the back of his neck, gently pulling him closer. Soft of a petal, the first brush of their lips against his was featherlight, yet enough that their eyes closed in bliss. It could hardly satiate the want they felt awakening in their veins.

Gently, they kissed him fully, with the intention of not overwhelming him, but with the desire to do so till the air in their lungs was fully spent. Their hand on his hip twisted the fabric of clothes just a touch, the need to anchor themself lest they be too wanting. "Blade," their voice was a whisper between their lips, echoes of longing sealed into another kiss.

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Relaxed, at ease... A new, but still alleviating state. Just how tense was he at all times that even this small moment of relaxation was relieving? Leaving him vulnerable, sword having been discarded against the nearby wall, fighting the urge to look back to see if it was still there. His eyes were still trained on them in an intense focus, however, every last bit of his focus was on them right now. Trying to read them, to figure out just why they'd want such a vile being as himself so close to them? Yet, all he'd found was... a strange sense of gentleness. A want to care for and about him. It might as well have been poisonous the first time he'd realized, how strongly he'd rejected them. He wasn't worth it, any of it, with how tainted and monstrous he could be. How the Mara could so easily flare up if given enough incentive. Wasn't meant for such softness and sweetness they showed him.

He... didn't want to hurt them. That? That was seriously all it boiled down to? Blade, the infamous, fearsome, dangerous Stellaron Hunter. Scared of hurting someone. It baffled him, disgusted him. But the more he tried to deny it, the more truthful it became. How he denied himself the chance of even standing next to them, always creating distance, how he always kept his voice soft and never raising it. Yet there was still this strong protectiveness and desire to keep coming back to Ophelia. They (as much as it shocked him to realize) were a safe place, somewhere he could at last lay down the sword, and just... exist.

Oh, how he wanted to downright melt and lean into their touches as they twirled his hair. Self-restraint was ironclad, however, so he stood firm. He wasn't made to receive such a tender thing, it being a miracle he even allowed them to get this close.

Until they kissed the corner of his mouth. It burned. Amber eyes widened slightly, swallowing thickly as his mind struggled to comprehend. That was the exact thing he'd feared. That the moment he were to receive any sign of affection, he'd all but latch onto it after being deprived of it for... well, he couldn't exactly remember the last time. If ever there was a time.

Their voice was so soft, sweet. Something he didn't find grating or agonizingly familiar. Just... a sound he found calming, able to quell the thrumming of the dormant Mara within him. How could he not accept their request? He'd probably kick himself for all eternity if he didn't.

Thus, his hand reached up to ever so gently cup their face, eyes a tad warmer than normal. His hand were rough, calloused, littered with scars new and old. Not meant for such a thing as this, all it was meant for was to wield his sword with terrifying precision. But this time, this time, he could make an exception.

"...Yes." Voice was low, gruff. But hidden within, was the smallest hint of affection. Reserved for them and them alone.

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Open; Ophelia

"Sometimes I hate you. Just leave! I don't want your pity!"

It was miraculous that Leon hadn't erupted into full blown shouting, even though he had raised his voice. Perhaps it was because of the guards nearby keeping an eye on their visit, perhaps he was tired. There weren't that many options, not that Ophelia had the capacity to think through them all as they stepped back and away from their brother. Hands clenching into fists, they forced their expression to stay neutral as they walked away, ignoring his sneer as best as they could.

Their breathing quickened alongside their stride. Wrapping their arms around their torso, the sound of their own breathing, the shuffle of the shoes against the ground, the voices of the people in the area. Every sense, magnified and echoing, crowded against their sense of self. Biting down on their lip, they could feel tears starting to well as they sucked into a quiet, darker corner. Pressed against the wall and the metal pipes, Ophelia sank to the ground, face tucked against their knees with their arms wrapped around themself.

They just needed to breathe. It didn't matter what their brother said in the long run. They didn't stop it from hurting.

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@strdstd from here x

Biting their lip harshly, Ophelia cringed inwards. The man was certainly not native to Belobog, and while they had been wanting to start a conversation...well the safe part of their brain was cringing at their own choice of words. 'Ophelia why didn't you just start with asking if he needed help with anything? Oh, architects, I've been reading too much poetry again.'

Pushing the thoughts from their mind with a firm internal shove, Ophelia took the time to actually mulled over his words carefully, their eyes drifting across the many details embellishing his coat. "I...suppose that can be true in some cases." They spoke slowly so as to give themself time to think through what they wished to say in the hopes of saying it correctly. "But I do not believe that has to be the case, or that that is always the case. After all, some homes are haunted but are the opposite; beautiful and pristine, kept intact through the ages. But there's no denying the ghosts that make such a place their home."

Using their fidget gears idly in one hand, they offered a brief, shy smile, "Likewise, some homes that are rotting and decrepit just need a bit of hard work and care. My workshop was like that." Shifting their weight on their heels, they rocked side to side slightly. "Do you have a place to stay while visiting Belobog, sir?" If he didn't, they were certain they could find somewhere for him, relatively safe, in both the Under & Overworld.

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‘ we are graveyards , reaching , with haunted bones ’ {From Blade to Ophelia! 👀}

Busy hands paused in their construction of a small mechanical marvel, the words sinking in without any sense of cold, but rather, something akin to peace. More accurately, the sort of peace one might feel from accepting the fact of something that will happen eventually. While they did not believe in nihilism (something the very Aeon itself seemed to agree with), they knew that death would come eventually. It was their hope that new life would come about after their eventual passing though.

Setting their tools aside softly, their goggles were pushed back on top of their head, cheek smeared with a small streak of oil in the process. Luckily, they were quite good at cleaning tough on skin or cloth liquids. Turning to fully face Blade, Ophelia tilted their head to the side, a softness in their eyes as a hum filled the air. "How lovely, then, to know that graveyards can often make for some of the most vibrant and wondrous gardens. Even in death, we are all still connected to life, and in turn, we may still reach for each other."

Moving to stand closer to him, their stained gloves were stowed in their work belt, clean hand hovering just shy of touching his arm. They did not want to overstep, but they wished so dearly to give him a hug, to soak his pain till he could see the flowers that bloomed. Instead, their smile was soft and warm, gentle as the sun in spring.

"I don't suppose I find hauntings all that frightening either." Asking if he would like to visit a grave-garden was...well, most likely a bit odd. Instead, they leaned back just a touch, "Luckily they also don't get in the way of eating all that much. Would you like something? I'm thinking of making soup, but I have other options." Aeons knew the man probably needed to eat more.

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I'm so close to giving Ophelia the head wings that Sunday and Robin have in their HSR au