#starter ⋆ ◆ ⋆ ━━ ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ʜɪᴅᴇ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ ʙᴇʟᴏᴡ ; ɪ'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ¸

[grnmlkn]

━━━━━★. *･｡ﾟ✧⁺ WATCH CLOSELY , his gaze implied as hand moved the miniature ball in his grasp from one side of vision to other, held firmly in place by index finger and thumb. Sibling could be so keen upon believing in fairytales that Lyney is oft left to structure his pre-mission planning with little Freminet with items that would constitute being worthy of his attention. Is it unnecessary? Quite. The youngest of the trio would have handled the mundane information without missing a singular beat, but where was the dazzle in that? A blank face is nothing short of blatantly boring and pragmatic ; why one would think that's a step above torture is beyond the magician's comprehension...

        Briefing Lyney and Lynette on their detailed exploits in the future always whisked them toward the driest dialogue, tackling schematics with a mixture of disposable and forgettable faces. By some manner of doing him a favor, older brother takes charge, allowing nearby Lynette to sip her tea and listen to their conversation -- a tactic used by her to conserve her energy and to step in as mediator should any...unfortunate arguments transpire -- again.

        Hand that held nothing, took hold of Freminet's wrist to pull it forward, slowly and gently, like that of the spring breeze, placing ball into center of palm, folding fingers over it to cover the object. ❝ Trust is the most important part of this mission, petit frère. ❞ Trust is the most important part of almost any mission, but he stresses this today for a reason. As he speaks, the hand that once held the tiny wooden ball circles around the tops of closed fingers, ❝ Anyone who is not familiar will only hinder your progress, and there will be those that appear familiar but are simply duplicating those we know... Open your hand -- look closely ... Who is this figure? Is it Lynette or a charlatan? ❞

⋅•⋅⊰ @grislyintentions starter for dear brother, freminet !

[grnmlkn]

━━━━━★. *･｡ﾟ✧⁺ NOTHING IS EVER AS IT seems in Lyney's world. A face withdrawn to facilitate expression utmost joys, yet underneath swirled an ocean of anxiety, the only thing kept afloat a buoy that threatened to break against the pressure of waves taller than Opera Epiclese. A seat taken, he pushed forward a cup of tea, bothering not to check its contents as he gave attention to youngest sibling within trio.

        From drained to bright and cheery in the time it would have taken him to snap his fingers, he gives his performance astounding grin, though beneath does his patience wear upon a taped x. ❝ Your trip down beneath the waves today, did you manage to collect the materials we need to pass along to Estelle? ❞

⋅•⋅⊰ @hcttrick starter for our dear brother freminet !

[grnmlkn]

━━━━━★. *･｡ﾟ✧⁺ AH -- someone whose existence reminds him of his sister (even on a basic level such as ears and a tail)! It's almost cosmic how much he feels drawn to this individual, intrigue and excitement all the same. Regardless of their appearance, there is always something charming about befriending someone who is not from Fontaine's soils, wandering about as a tourist, lost in the streets and visiting. It is always so mundane after the shine of a new area's razzle dazzle fades out, so, in his attempts to think of clever means to approach, he'd taken it upon himself to delight in location, those orbs of his springing to life as he tumbled about before newest face, falling to his knees and causing card to flutter forth from inside his hat.

        A surprised yelp, hands placed atop his head, pulling the adornment further down. The card fluttered carelessly through the air before landing so carefully face down upon her shoulder. As to add more to illusion, a few more cards would slip from hat and down to the pavement below them both, all flipped right side up. ❝ Ah, mademoiselle, forgive me and my clumsy legs! ❞

        A beat between this and response, a hand to reach out and gesture to shoulder, ❝ It appears you have been given a friend from within my hat! ❞

⋅•⋅⊰ @curiouskinetic starter for our dear guest sora !

[grnmlkn]

━━━━━★. *･｡ﾟ✧⁺ THE RETURN , it's expected of every magician to suddenly take their leave from the audience's gaze and reemerge somewhere else entirely. Trial had ended, the guilt of failure crushing innards heavily, the face that wore it continuing to smile all the while as he departed back to his abode where he would lick his wounds. A quiet discussion transpired behind closed doors with sister, his voice hushed, serious, the light behind his eyes drained to but husks...

        The finale did little to remove that stain, twins parted ways to lead to eldest to approach Freminet, the light manifested only in portions. Had he been informed already of this? The youngest held such reverence to "Father" that anything and everything could have met his ears long before, the information a drowning reality that, despite it falling primarily on Lyney's shoulders, this still impacted the House of Hearth as a whole...all thanks to the digging of archon hands.

        ❝ Freminet, ❞ he wastes no time in potentially cutting off any greeting or words the youngest might push forward. Failure is still poison and, no matter how might slice into this pastry, there will be a deadly trace of it to catch their tongues. The Knave held them in higher regard, but he cannot see her granting him a free pass simply because of status. ❝ We're going to have to prepare for "Father's" response to this mission's failure ; keep this in mind that her scolding will be spent toward me not at you. ❞ Thus does the trio have to prepare, have to place their hands in the circle and delegate their time and energy ; Lyney's time now spent on preparing younger ones, reminding Freminet that there is no need for tears when the directed scorn will be upon the elder two -- perhaps even just Lyney himself for not seeing the potential dangers of failure...

⋅•⋅⊰ @depthgauging starter for our dear brother freminet !

[grnmlkn]

.

━━━━━★. *･｡ﾟ✧⁺ ❝ WHAT A LUXURY IT IS to see a visitor hailing from Mondstadt in our fair city! ❞ Though the appearance of Lisa may have served better in this case to inquire about the state of affairs within it, this face would also work well, her casing for her vision enough to tell him of her origins ; it's a wonder why she would have traveled all the way here to visit, but he'd digress -- a tourist is a tourist, are they not?

        A bow, exaggerated as always, head lowered briefly, ❝ You must be exhausted from your long travel ; is this your first time visiting? ❞

⋅•⋅⊰ @electric-ecclectic starter for our dear guest signe !

[grnmlkn]

━━━━━★. *･｡ﾟ✧⁺ THERE WERE FEW MOMENTS IN life that Lyney can recall departing from Fontaine for business with "Father." More often than not, there is nothing requested of him, but, by some extension, she seemed to reside on an err of caution, bringing forth the future heir of the House of Hearth alongside her. Leaving behind sister and brother, his siblings -- all of them -- caused those sparkling features to drain into pale visage of woe, anxiety-riddled, yet he maintained poise despite it. Business in Snezhnaya, a check in on the other houses, and a meeting to discuss matters of grave importance: the eventual need to send soldiers further into Inazuma.

        Harbingers did not collude together, their meetings were hardly something that required them all in the same room at once, but this didn't mean that the ease of access that all residing within the country could bring wasn't a standard necessity with such delicate information. To send out letters beyond their borders held riskier connotations so their presence here kept matters confidential. If Lyney held any honesty within him that he might speak to the walls of his room, it's that he dreaded the prospect of being handed the crown that "Father" wore upon her scalp ; he hoped, prayed even, that she might find him better suited for mere trinkets of activity after their mission in Fontaine should come to a close, allowing twins and Freminet to exist as they are now, but there is doubt -- darkened doubt...that he will find that ease: he hopes that his role remains a simple "Father" role and does not pertain to becoming the next Knave.

        Distracted mind, he barely has time to register how long he'd begun to stare off into space, coming to with another pair of eyes piercing the dimly lit room -- a fearsome stare, one that could house the entirety to Inazuma's electro within it. A few stray blinks, improvising thoughts on rectifying the situation before he found himself having to explain the innocuous stare misinterpreted. How does one speak clearly to another Harbinger without the cushioning of proper formalities at play? ❝ Sorry! You are Lord Scaramouche, correct? It's a pleasure to meet you in person. ❞

⋅•⋅⊰ @malizio starter for our dear, scary, guest scaramouche !

[grnmlkn]

━━━━━★. *･｡ﾟ✧⁺ TIPS OF FINGERS NEVER LEFT his sides , the calming air around him a must for the performance he was about to commit to. The waters before him are calm, shallow but not enough to easily disguise any trickery yet not deep enough to cause concern for his safety. The person's freshly picked herbs had fallen upon the surface, yet they were still salvageable should they simply lay them out to dry in the sunlight.

        ❝ Allow me, ❞ he'd offered, wandering by her, pausing briefly at the water's edge. With one swift movement, he removed his hat and the little amulet carrying his pyro vision upon his back, throwing the vision into his hat and handing it to them to hold -- an illusion of genuine magic is broken should they assume it's the work of a vision! Once in hands, he stepped to the edge, those hands pressed to his hips, tentatively he pushed the toe of his boot in and jumped back, a shiver erupting from him.

        ❝ Brrr -- quand les poules auront des dents! ❞ Obviously this wasn't true but rather a way to prove that his trick had no strings to hold him up or anything beneath the surface of the water as he placed sole appendage forward...and then another to fully stand atop the water without sinking! As he began to take another step, then another, he'd jovially call over his shoulder: ❝ I think I'd rather stay out of the water to retrieve your fallen goods! ❞

⋅•⋅⊰ @denphelia starter for our dear guest Decima !

[grnmlkn]

━━━━━★. *･｡ﾟ✧⁺ NO ONE IS FOOLISH ENOUGH to not know the context of visage before them -- a man as renowned and infamous as Il Dottore within the realm of the Fatui is a figure difficult to miss when he enters a room. Adorned in striking blues and radiating an air of danger around him consistently, it's a wonder the orphans don't shrink back further when he wanders by. It's equivalent to entering the forests, only to hear the sounds of nature completely die around you, knowing the biggest threat within to all lifeforms prowls about, ready to sink its teeth into them and tear them limb-from-limb...

        In charge for now does Lyney step forward, a polite salute customary when dealing with a harbinger -- especially one he doesn't know the customs of personally (to wander up and simply speak may be taboo, to wander up and no showcase a sign of respect might lend him scrutiny). He digresses against calamitous sensations driving up within him as he bravely stands before the second, lilac hues piercing into him, attention meant to stay firmly upon him.

        ❝ You're early, Dottore sir, if you're looking for "Father," ❞ he starts, voice as faux with cheer as usual, lashes pulled back to acutely monitor presence, a habit to ensure the safety of his peers, a hand pressed to hip, balled into fist for comfort's sake. Superiority above him, the magician's best kept secret presses against the barrier created within, the fear and anxiety it brought forth when speaking to higher powers, even "Father" brought no shortage of these sensations... ❝ She won't be returning to us for another week. ❞

⋅•⋅⊰ @hcresys starter for the second (read: most frightening) harbinger !

[grnmlkn]

━━━━━★. *･｡ﾟ✧⁺ LIES ARE OFTEN TOLD IN the dark , the evening primrose of the world. One looks upon it and finds beauty, a translation of gorgeous petals that disguise where it originates when those who gaze fail to watch the blooming petals. Though thousands in the crowds he's come across have come to accept the comfortable lies, it is his sister who knows his ugliest truths, his features without the mask ... the fact that he's lost himself completely and totally through it all.

        ...unlike others, however, she does not wrap her lithe fingers around edges and yank upon it, for she knows that to do so will only result in reducing him down to nothing -- a nothingness that would both destroy him and destroy their futures. For his sister, he bears the burden upon himself to hold his shoulders at maximum strength, trampling the flowers of the night that exist to reveal truths in the light about himself, destroying portions of who he once was completely -- who was Lyney? Nobody.

        ❝ Thank you, Lynette. ❞ They sit on the beds assigned to them, the ticking silence of the evening, another nightmare that had woken him up in a sweat, her hand to squeeze him from the dreadful aftershock and pull him back to the world ; it is she that catches him as he plumets, it is she that bubbles him, it is she that possesses nothing but the truths that keep him sane in this desolate wonderland that he'd become acquainted over the years. ❝ I woke you again, ❞ voice is devoid of fluttering cadence, the drums put away, his uneven steps a product of this lack of upbeat energy. ❝ The trial must have affected me more than I thought. ❞

⋅•⋅⊰ @anemxvisions starter for our dear sister lynette !

[grnmlkn]

━━━━━★. *･｡ﾟ✧⁺ PERSONA GRATA , the tale of Lyney to the whole of Fontaine, an acceptable image of what stands out amongst the crowds as their bastion of whimsy and suspended breaths -- a country that relies upon theatrics and those of higher intrigue. The justice of other nations is held with an iron clasp upon them, yet there is nothing more spectacular than a show, an opera that monuments weep upon gazing up upon...

        Yet when the spotlight fades and the crowd dissipates, all performers must remove their masks and disrobe from costumes that adorn them ; however, for Lyney, there comes little time for such pleasantries, the face of a magician is known on the streets, whispered about, plagued by the consistent spotlight that cannot simply be shut off by the snap of his fingers like one upon stage.

        It is by heavy heeled steps within confines of the Bouffes d'ete that showstopping smile fades and glittery irises no longer hold that same zest they once had. By one who looks upon him now, they may struggle to recognize him, such a serious expression laced with dullness hardly fits the visage they're used to, but it is the true self that allows him a chance to breathe -- as Lynette may fathom it: Lyney's standby mode.

        None with spines of malleable constitution dare speak of it as him shedding his mask ; the argument that ensues not worth their spare time, so he wagers that this peace is enough, a blessing as the doors click shut behind him. Arms stretch above head, spine realigning as he unleashes a sigh ; their trial had ended, they were spared, but... ❝ When "Father" arrives, let me speak on our behalf. ❞ Common as it may seem that his lips may move to speak, this is a warning placed forth: do not speak lest you wish to be reprimanded harshly (he can confirm that while "Father" might not raise a hand against them, this is not the same should there be inclusions of...others).

⋅•⋅⊰ @diverse-hearts starter for our dear sister, lynette !

[grnmlkn]

━━━━━★. *･｡ﾟ✧⁺ HOUSE OF HEARTH FLATTERED COUNTLESS patrons who wandered through its many doors -- whether by the grace of the Tsaritsa herself or the Harbingers releasing them to Fontaine under orders -- and this woman seemed no exception to this. The doors behind him, though by metaphor should have allowed her entry were shut tight, cheerful façade worn on Lyney's features grant inscrutable comprehension of what lies beneath.

        Not inherently a dangerous terrain by the usual means that one such as Sumeru holds, Fontaine is a nation that Lyney would argue still has its dangers hidden within the mountainous western regions, though he cannot speak on her behalf fully, his keen eye taught him to pick upon obvious details that others may miss: shifting of body weight, clenching of fists, drawn in breaths and lengths, how the individual carries themselves. What he can certainly gleam from a singular glance is far more enticing micro-expressions -- telltale signs of battle prior to arrival

        From how she wandered across the bridge connecting to their humble home, Lyney takes ample time to wander forth, lilacs cast upon her torn garment -- what had happened had either caused stolen goods or injuries hidden beneath other portions of clothing. ❝ Welcome back to Bouffes d'ete! Are you alright -- did something happen outside the city? ❞ Question that holds its weight in gold to deceive any who might listen in upon conversation -- Lyney is clearly just concerned about the well-being of patron ; it is not a welcome party to a fatuus!

⋅•⋅⊰ @voidfragments starter for our new guest, elizaveta !