#v. it ebbs and flows; the tide of your fear; give yourself to falling / main.

[csial]

in the night, your loneliness crushes you, as if the sky itself has swooped down to smother you in its cold arms. for the first time since i can remember, i don’t feel alone. because of you. (two in one, from neuvillette)

The feeling of loneliness is one of the greatest tragedies one can bear. He remembers it well, sweeping him into a cold embrace as he languished beneath the depths, held in place yet unable to reach any at all, restricted as he was by the spears of Morax and his waning powers. The vice it held upon his heart had been agonising, festering and it was only the embers of anger that had allowed him to simmer in outrage rather than tumble down into despair, though the notion often dragged icy fingertips beneath his chin.

So as the hydro sovereign claims a similar feeling, Osial cannot help but allow his hand to find Neuvillette's own digits curling unbidden until there is no space between their palms nor their fingers, his thumb tracing tenderly against soft skin.

"Were it within my power I would wash away all sense of isolation from your very frame until your heart only knew the joys of companionship," he offers quietly, glad that in their shared quietude here in the open there is no cause to be restrictive with words, nor too cautious with gesture. Within the confines of the city he must heed caution, restrain the impulse to offer comfort when the other's brow furrows, a feat that grows more impossible by the day with how his heart swells, emotion coming in waves, begging for a little more each time.

It is a terrifying feeling, the way his affection fills him, it takes all his effort to not allow it to brim over. Should he touch the waters here, he fears that he would overwhelm the sovereign with what lies beneath his still surface. Like the ocean itself he encompasses far more than bleeds through, far more even that that which seeps through the cracks unbidden.

"I am glad that now, in the very least, I can offer you a reprieve from loneliness' cold touch." His thumb stills against Neuvillette's hand, but he makes no effort to detach, simply staring down at their joined hands, lost in his own thoughts. Wondering if perhaps he had been smarter, better, stronger, he might have been have been able to do more sooner to ease the sovereign's isolation. It is a cruel world to wander alone.

Impulse coaxes him then, raising their joint hands until he can press lips to a gloved knuckle in a sworn oath, a promise to himself and to Neuvillette, that he will no longer allow loneliness to take a hold of them. He need not voice it allowed, it is there on his lips as his lids descend over his cerulean hues briefly, there in the look he gives the other as his lids rise once more.

"Together we can stave off the cold embrace and ease the burden of the skies, for your company is the greatest gift you have given me... It is only right I should attempt to do the same."

[csial]

"I will, Havria's domain is easy to traverse when you have been given permission to do so..." There's a melancholy in his voice when he talks of his old friend, lamenting his inability to rouse his friend to war, to get her to hold her weapon even in defence of herself. It will be one of his greatest regrets in life, for without her his world became incredibly narrowed and cold. At least he will be able to spend some time with what she has left behind while he heals and become more at peace with her loss in this world he is a part of now.

"There will be little fuss to be had. Believe it or not I wish not to summon him to my doorstep while I am not at my best." After that, who is to say what he will plan. But for a time, at least, there will be peace as he ponders his next steps.

His head twists to look upon the dream eater as he heards his name spoken, tipping in curiosity as he hears the question that is asked. Celestia's blessings... at one point they would have been seen as the greatest recognition of his abilites, which is why he had sought after it so earnestly, looking for that acknowledgement that he was no lesser than the Guili Assembly he had once been friends with. There have been millennia since then, years spent in darkness pinned beneath Morax's spear.

"I do not think it is that simple." His gaze turns as he looks to the churning waves, fingers curling into fists as he speaks. It takes him a moment, swallowing back the anger that threatens to bubble if only to stop himself damaging his newly gifted vessel. "It was simply posed as a blessing. A crown for the most worthy." A scoff passes his lips and his head shaking as his lips press in a thin line. "And yet was it worth it? Who is to tell. I cannot speak for I did not win it. I was only left with Celestia's scorn."

when osial mentions the home of an old friend, kosume finds himself raising an eyebrow in confusion. it's not like osial has a ton of old friends besides that old bastard morax and that scary wife of his, and--but, wait, no, based on what kosume's learned previously he's probably talking about havira. the goddess of salt the dream eater had once seen from afar; a petite yet beautiful woman with sea-salt colored hair that hung past her hips and sparkling eyes who would trust anyone who was clever enough to promise to never betray her.

it's no small wonder how she managed to last as long as she did, and still had followers to this day.

"hm....that works," the dream eater murmurs, rolling onto his back and staring up at the sky, his hands and feet more visibly-formed than before. "as long as you're safe there and don't kick up too much of a fuss." the tone that he adopts is a more casual one, as if the two of them were just friends shooting the breeze on a rainy day, and not a former god and a scion of the god of dreams.

he's able to move his hands so that they rest on his stomach over black fabric, twisting at each other once they're able to grasp each other properly. today, kosume's worn bright blue nail polish, the color of a sea on a day with pleasant weather, and it stands out starkly against his dark clothing. it's a pretty color and neatly done, no chips in the polish despite the strenuous activity that the two had just gone through.

"osial." the name comes out of nowhere, as if pulled unwillingly from another's mouth. "do you believe that celestia's blessings are a curse in disguise? you don't have to answer it if you don't want to, it's just something that i've been thinking about."

[csial]

❛ in spite of everything, you’re still you. ❜ + ❛ what on earth… have i become? ❜ combined, from neuvillette!

A lazy tip of the head returns the ancient god's heavy gaze upon the Iudex, an amused smile curling at the corner of his mouth, despite the emotion of the statement given. He ought consider it a compliment, that after so many years he is recognisable, unchanged at heart from the brash, emotive creature he always was, but there is a voice that reminds him he is little more than a creature of habit, outdated in this current world. A being of a time long since eroded, trapped in a world that no longer belongs to his kind.

"Oh, I would not judge yourself upon my standards, Neuvillette..." he murmurs, one hand stretching out to beckon the other to join him in his perch. He has found Fontaine a soothing nation, one that lessens the thrum of anger within him. He knows not if it is simply the expanses of water, or the one in control of it, but either way he likes to linger when he can have to excuse. Perching upon one of the benches that over look the glistening blue, the kingdom that these humans will never know as well as them, and letting the soothing sound lull his being into ease.

"You are what you needed to be for the time you needed to be it. Would you have traded our positions?" He scoffs after, for there is no one who would have taken his position. To be pinned beneath the waves within his own realm was insult enough, under the weight of Morx's spears that left him only able to churn the seas in a storm's tempest, it was galling. He was shackled, restrained, and left to rot. Had the Harbinger not been audacious enough to summon him, he would likely still be there. The scars across his back will remain testament to that time.

"Have you diminished yourself, perhaps..." That sharp tongue does not hold back as he muses aloud and yet, though cutting it is not fraught with intention to insult. "But you see what has happened to those of us who refused to conform. You kept us alive, gave us hope and now you can find your way between worlds..." And guide those of us too stubborn to change. "You are still the creature I knew, no matter what form you take. Are you not a being of hydro? It is in your very nature to change and craft your vessel, your entire being to fit the container needed, to be what is required. That is the beauty of our element." One he had forgotten.

He waits then letting it sink in, before audacious fingers curl beneath the sovereign's chin, guiding their gazes to meet. "In spite of everything, you are still you. No matter how distant you feel. The truth lies within the pulse of the waves and the beat of the tides. Nothing can take that from you." His touch is gone then and his gaze returns to the sea before them, a content smile sitting upon his face. It is not much of a pep talk, Beisht was always better than he at such things, but it is crafted to make the other think. He can only hope it is taken as intended, but he will weather the storm if it is not.

@apocryphis.

[csial]

this was always supposed to happen, wasn’t it? (from neuvillette!)

"It was..."

There's an amused lilt to the ancient god's tone as arms fold across his chest and he stares at the waters of Fontaine beside the other. How strange it is that two creatures so old, who belong to a world of gods and monsters, have now found place within this human-led one. Stranger still that Osial has managed to forfit his pride long enough to talk to Neuvillette once more, but he has come to understand in his new guise - thanks to an old friend turned enemy turned friend again - that there is strength in reconcilliation, in defeat, in bearing one's weaknesses with pride. Behind that amusement, however, lies something heavier, something understanding and empathising with the creature below the depths, sealed temporarily. His face turns serious once more as his gaze drifts from the waters to meet the Iudex's own.

"There was never a world in which rage could be contained. Have we not learnt from the past?"

He speaks of himself, of course. His rage was contained for millennia, writhing and raging as he was held beneath the weight of Morax's spears, the hate allowed to fester as he was left with nought but his rage and bitterness, letting it seep into the land above him, the minds that dared linger in his destroyed domain. And when freedom had come, it had come with a rush, a desire to burn and scorch and devestate with no care for the cost to humans or himself. He had simply wanted the wretched world to drown.

"There will be a time when no seal will hold back that which lies in the deep. And then Fontaine will have to choose..." He pauses, sighing. "To be consumed, to defend and destroy or to defeat and rehabilitate... there is no easy path." Though he had taken the latter, rehabilitated into a life where he has a new name and job, a purpose within this world and a chance to reminisce about days of old, there had been times when he had simply wanted to hiss and destroy and forget about belonging. When he still felt entitled to the domain he had once had.

"And you will have to bear witness, as he did, and decide how you intend to act as well." It is strange how the story parallels his own so, with that which lies beneath feeling a similar cocktail of emotions to he and Neuvillette resembling the role Morax had taken in his fate, with the option to choose to find a better way or be the final action that decides the fate of events.

"I wonder if you will be as he was..."

[csial]

@shameofice asked: ❛ you’re not a very convincing liar. ❜ (@shameofice kosume and osial scheming) // 200 RANDOM DIALOGUE PROMPTS.

A raise of the brow as lips press into a thin line follows the words as Osial's irritation bleeds into his expression quickly, arms lifting to fold across his chest. This new form he has become accustom to in some ways - the mechanics of operation not so difficult to understand - but blending in to this human world has been less easy.

"I fail to see the purpose in lying, I care not whether the humans know at all. Let them presume I'm one of the adepti who has long since been forgotten if it stresses their minds so..." he huffs, fixing his gaze upon the dream eater. Despite his words, he's all too aware of the necessity to lie. If he does not find a way to fit in, his presence is likely to be called to Morax's attention sooner rather than later and it will upset what plans they have put in motion.

"If you are so convincing perhaps you should orchestrate the lie. This heaving city stifles me anyway..." Though there is a thrill in being able to walk among those that believe he is defeated and have them not know, he does tire of the constant presence on all sides. Perhaps a trip back to Guyun will be in order soon, to breathe in the sea and feel the freedom of the expanse for a time. If nothing else, it might at least alleviate his ill temper.

[csial]

He leans into her gentle touch, tipping his head to follow the path of her finger against his jaw, lids fluttering over eyes shielding the world from himself for a little, just letting himself feel. With this he can focus on the gentle touch, and listen to her melodic laugh, he can bathe in her love, the gentle way she treats him and the the way even though she teases at him she still supports him fully in his chaotic endeavours.

"You do not have to make it seem as if it were so obvious... there is significant discord between us and a past mired with betrayal and fractures." A wave of melancholy washes over him briefly, the weight of the past washing over him for a moment, before he sends it away, not allowing it to linger and fester. It does him no good to stew on what has been, it is over, it has been done, and they are trying to move past it now.

"He understands a part of it... He does not understand it all for he has never been told." It is easy to say that you make jewellery for those you consider dear, harder still to admit that it is a declaration of interest or an unbreakable bond, a tradition passed through the eons, one that marks his true intentions no matter what his flusterings might say. A glance shows that Beisht's own tokens still glitter at her wrists, still as beautiful as when they were first forged, Havria's lay with her amongst the salt that lingers in her realm, and there are a few dotted throughout time. Perhaps one day they will turn to antiques that will lay in the shop he works in, their tale waiting to be told and he will smile at the sight of them.

As her arms loop around his neck his own respond in kind, catching at her waist and drawing her close. There is comfort in their union, that no matter what waters churn around them, this will always be here, they will always have this, each other. "You are far too tolerating of my eccentricities, as always I treasure your very being, my beloved. Always."

Oh, how easily she can read him. The flush that spreads across his face is telling indeed, the swiftness with which he averts his gaze providing all the confirmation she needs. Fondness for him swells in her heart - this powerful being, reduced to such fluster. How adorable.

"Mm, sounds like Morax..." She smiles, a fingertip tracing the line of Osial's jaw, bright eyes studying every subtle shift of his expression. It's unnecessary - he doesn't hide anything from her, after all - but she still likes to pay attention to all his tells. It is because of this that she knows there is more he wants to tell her even before he speaks.

A soft laugh passes her lips; a laugh that is gentle, musical almost, and carries with it a distinct air of I told you so. "Well, of course he accepted it. You are a fool if you thought he wouldn't." Her hands now fall to his shoulders, a little thread of her power sneaking in with the touch - just a subtle, calming presence to soothe away any embarrassment he might feel. "He understands the sentiment, the significance, as well as I do."

She wears sea-glass of her own; two slender bracelets, one upon each wrist. She hasn't taken them off since the day he gifted them to her. They were a comfort to her during those long years of being apart; a piece of him to carry with her, a reminder of their bond.

"Perhaps now you will stop fighting what you know to be true." She chides him, fondly, her arms looping loosely around his neck. "But I doubt it. You have always been stubborn." She heaves a sigh, one that carries such an air of exasperation that it can only be exaggerated for effect. As if she isn't equally stubborn. "A good thing I can tolerate it, no?"

[csial]

@electric-ecclectic // STARTER CALL.

"You are asking questions which pry once more, Assistant Librarian..." There is an amused smirk that plays about his lips as Qianfan reaches for the book he requires from Mondstadt's library, laying it upon the table next to the relic he is studying. The excursion to the neighbouring nation had not been one he desired to take immediately, but a combination of Xigu Antiques offering a considerable bonus and a mention of the librarian assistant he had worked with before being the Mondstadt contact, he'd relented.

"There is only one past that I am fascinated with, and that is the past of this relic discovered..." He gestures towards the object that he has been sent to study, something of Mondstadt's past that had washed up on Liyue's shores. He can tell it is from the years in which he was imprisoned in the deep, though the details are obscured from him beyond that. "My own is not nearly so necessary to discover..." He does not doubt that this is not the last he will hear of this. A curious mind is not so easy to deter.

[csial]

@erabundus // STARTER CALL.

"Ah..."

To be joined on Guyun Stone Forest had not been expected, the realm left towards isolation and abandonment spare a few adventurers who dared tread its shores. He'd grown complacent, believing himself to walk free of his human guise in the bipedal form he'd once held, to shed his human skin for a time.

He had not anticipated the presence of Ren upon the shores. The wanderer had never seemed interested in Guyun's history, at least from what he had seen.

"Perhaps this much, at the very least, answers some of the queries that linger upon your mind from our tea meetings..." The final word blends into a soft hiss as he turns back towards the waves he had been pulling and pushing, just extending enough of his power to feel alive, cooped up as he has been in his efforts to hide from Morax.

"You have questions, I suppose. Ask what you wish... I'll answer what I care to. Perhaps..."

[csial]

@sourcewater // STARTER CALL.

It had been a bold move to stray so far from Liyue's waters, and yet he does not regret it. At least here he cannot sense the thrum of geo that lingers in every rock of Liyue, nor feel the apprehension that he may be discovered by the last yaksha prowling to continue his lord's mission. No, here in Fontaine, Osial can enjoy waters anew without those presences.

Though that does not mean he can abandon caution. There is power here, a great one, as the nation has witnessed.

He stands behind the Palais Mermonia gaze cast upon the waters beyond and feeling the life out there that thrums beneath the surface. The exapanse before him is settling, grounding in a way that calms him, at least until he feels the presence that steps into his proximity.

"I wondered how long it would take until I remained alone within this domain..." A turn of the head fixes vivid cerulean upon the other, the Iudex of Fontaine so he has heard. For a moment skin ripples, a blush of blue swimming across before it resumes the hue of his human vessel.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" The smirk that lingers on his lips says he already knows the answer. It would be foolish for any to let him roam unattended in their realm after all.

[csial]

A smile curls on lips as he listens to the way she pries and pokes at his vague statement, though he has little intention of permitting her further access to his history. It'll be interesting at least to see how far she pushes before he changes the direction of the conversation entirely. "I'd prefer to focus on the now. The past is already written."

He folds his arms across his chest, the sleeves of his robes draping down with a soft ripple, as fluid as water, and he sighs. Osial might have simply ended the conversation with a flick of his wrist, using his divine aptitude to ensure the question is terminated. Now, Haitao simply shakes his head and presses his lips closed. Tossing humans across the land via water tendrils is hardly recommended in this day and age.

"You can ask what questions you desire, but I will choose which ones I desire to answer..." He sighs again, and then turns around to look across the room, the antiques resting here and the work he has yet to do. He's looking forward to piecing together their histories, in learning things that had happened between his imprisonment and his release.

@csial asked:

❝ my past is not really worth mentioning. ❞ [in his main verse where he's laying low under a pseudonym)

"Is it not?" she quipped, raising an eyebrow. "It can't be all that bad. I'm sure that in the grand scheme of things, whatever happened in your past won't play too big a part."

What a curious traveler. Her own past was complicated, and whatever subtlety she might try to maintain would surely be swept away if someone with a modicum of history knowledge were to notice her diamond-shaped pupils. The stranger was handsome, and Signe was a curious individual; she couldn't help trying to pry at least a little bit.

"Maybe you can give me the abridged version? Or maybe you can ask me something first. I can't promise that it'll be very interesting, but an exchange is an exchange, I suppose."

[csial]

@yanwangye // STARTER CALL.

He had not expected that familiar presence to step upon the shores of Guyun so soon. Hidden behind stone and foliage Osial listens quietly, breath caught in his throat, careful not to make a sound. Memory recalls the last time this presence came upon these shattered remains of his domain, where he had lingered in the depths weak and powerless from battle and terror had gripped his heart that he might be returned to his chains. It had not been to be, perhaps his presence had been too quiet, what little residue he left no stronger than that which had once leaked from his imprisonment, bleeding into the land. Instead, all he had heard were melancholic words and felt what once was held by Havria returned to the depths. All that remained of his once dear friend. By the time his fear and confusion had calmed, the one he knew as Morax was long gone.

Movement draws him from his thoughts and he steps back on instinct, this bipedal form clumsy as his weight shifts the plants to a cacophony of rustles and snaps a twig beneath his heel, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet expanse. He is too far from the water to sink quickly into its depths, and close enough to the presence that has him on edge that any retreat would only give the mark of a coward. A fate he will not abide. The decision is made for him then, so he steps forth instead, breath held until vivid cerulean meets molten gold and he lets the single name fall from his lips, its sound weighed with the multiple millennia's worth of emotion that swirls in his chest.

"Morax...."

[csial]

@maquiscursed asked:

“ don’t pretend like you understand. “ (what about from shenhe, but from that plot idea you suggested where osial attempts to corrupt her / push her to the dark side? 👀)

"Don't I?"

Soft, saccharine words escape the depths, whispered forth as he slowly rises from the tides rivulets of water running from his frame to return to the sea. He shifts forward, moving as fluidly as the water itself, two serpentine heads flanking the humanoid form twisting left and right to observe, skin bleeding from golden sands to hues of blue. It feels good to wear this skin, freeing part of himself from the confines of humanity, but brings with it the bitterness of not being able to wear his natural vessel, pinned as it is beneath the gaudy chamber.

"Do you think I do not know what it is to be cast out? To feel a sense of otherness. Exiled member of the Guili Assembly that I am. Or do you think that I do not understand what it is to carry a great power beyond comprehension that others fear?" Lips twist into a smirk, hand rising to twist the waters around him into tendrils that dance around him. They dance through shapes - his godly form fighting a coiling dragon, a rising tsunami heading towards a city, twin coiling heads of he and his beloved - each a display of power made as easy as breathing. He moves forward again till they are face to face, vivid cerulean hues staring into her own unblinkingly, knowingly.

"Or is it the rage that you think I do not know? The festering fury in your chest that burns with each time you are forced to subdue yourself; to belittle yourself for others. The intensity of your ire that begs you to just let go..."

He leans back then arms folding across his chest, as both serpentine heads still and also come to stare at her. There's an ease about his posture, daring her to contradict him as he falls into silence.

The waves lap at the sand again as silence descends between the two, a rhythmic crash echoing in the otherwise silent land.

[csial]

@nulltune asked: how  far  would  you  go ? // URBAN FLORA.

Lips curl and though they seem to resemble something of a smile, it never reaches the eyes. Vivid cerulean hues narrow will a callousness that is more than skin deep, one that has rooted itself across millenia, and festered for an eternity. "How far do you think I might?"

His words extend with a faint hiss as he speaks, his nonanswer the only communication he shares in response. Where are the boundaries for a spurned divine one? He is yet to find them. Yes, he waits in the city of Morax, shares tea with its people, walks the path of this life. But it is only a guise. He is simply waiting, lurking this time in a sea of people until the right storm changes the tide.

There is a glint of something in his expression before he allows lips to press in a thin line and his smile vanish. "I will do what I must to get what I want." Though an answer it's terrifiying in its magnitude, as he turns his gaze away to observe, his gaze cold, perhaps even a glint of resent. There are no boundaries he will not shatter for his desires, the taste of loss leaves too bitter tang on the tongue to endure.

[csial]

Boldness is something the ancient divine one can admire, and his hailing from the land of contracts - despite his distaste for its archon - does not make him immune to the skeleton of what could be a good deal. Or at the very least, a chance to wile away the hours with conversation that may seem a little interesting.

Osial chooses not to answer immediately however, expression contemplative as he reaches for his tea, taking a measured sip and mulling over his thoughts. "It is the start of something that can prove interesting at the very least..." he hums, vivid cerulean hues studying the other. "Though perhaps the exchange needs more rigor..." An open exchange of information is hardly equitable, and given that he is unfamiliar with how deep the other's history runs, he might trade off his novella of years for a leaflet's worth of information. "A definitive boundary, perhaps? Say... I shall answer three questions and you the same. Of course this only works if we are honest..."

Not that there is a way either of them can ensure honesty, unless they wish to invoke a proper contract and Osial has little interest in pulling upon the power of Morax. "Of course, you may ask the first question, should you agree..." He's curious to see what the other will ask at the very least, which part of his words have caught attention.

the  wanderer  stares,  expression  NEUTRAL  in  such  a  way  that  makes  it  difficult  to  discern  what  he's  actually  thinking  —  like  a  thick  coating  of  fog  to  obscure  the  HORIZON.  by  default,  ren  finds  small  talk  quite  contemptible.  all  too  often  it  serves  as  little  more  than  a  transparent  effort  to  chase  away  silence  —  but  he's  never  found  the  long  stretches  without  pointless  chatter  to  be  particularly  uncomfortable  to  begin  with.  people  are  so  terrified  to  be  left  alone  with  only  their  own  THOUGHTS  for  company.  it  would  be  a  bit  funny  if  he  didn't  find  it  so  irritating.

however,  ren  is  nothing  if  not  a  creature  wreathed  in  contradiction.  for  all  that  he  may  loathe  idle  conversation,  he  is  equally  wracked  by  a  hunger  for  INFORMATION  seemingly  etched  into  every  fiber  of  his  being.  he  is  nosy,  he  loves  drama,  and  something  about  the  conflict  in  the  other's  response  has  him  SNICKERING  into  his  cup  of  tea.

❝  is  that  so?  ❞  he quips.  ❝  sounds  like  you  speak  from  EXPERIENCE.  care  to  elaborate?  ❞  of  course,  he  hardly  expects  the  prompt  to  be  met  with  agreement,  so  the  wanderer  is  quick  to  continue,  ❝  i've  always  seen  information  as  something  that  can  be  exchanged,  like  currency ...  satisfy  my  curiosity,  and  i'll  satisfy  yours.  ❞  a  smile  plays  upon  his  lips  —  made  playful  by  how  obviously  artificial  its  faux-innocence  truly  is.   ❝  not  a  bad  deal,  right?  ❞

[csial]

Talk about Beisht, for the meme :D

It is instinctual how fingers come to curl around the driftwood pendant, without thought, as eyes turn to the sea, searching for her fruitlessly amongst the waves. He still expects her to return to these waters. He knows she cannot yet.

"I miss her more than words can say. It has been a long time since I have been without her conversation, her stalwart support, the affection we have shared... " Between his imprisonment and her chasing from Liyue he does not know when they will have opportunity to see each other again, and he fears that it will be a long while yet. He will wait - would always wait for her - but in the mean time he feels adrift, a ship without anchor caught in the waves.

Her presence had always been so grounding, to be without it is a blow he cannot shake.

"The days are a little darker and the storms that much more fiercer without her here. She has always been the one to fill the spaces, to meet my weaknesses with her strengths, to allow me to do the same in return. " A wistful sigh escapes him, fingers dropping from his pendant and falling to his side. "I miss her more than words can say but I suspect she'll have something new to tell me when she returns, and multiple reasons to scold me too." He scoffs then, amusement in the tone. "She always could put me in my place better than others."

TALK ABOUT...! // @sylvctica

[csial]

There is simply no way a god, whose emotions and very being are something entirely separate from mortals, could feel a desire for intimacy with someone like her. They’ve had discussions (multiple), about her inability to accept their…companionship as anything more than a mediocre, passing fancy. Something to fill the time as he regains his strength. Maybe it’s a projection; if Tem idles for too long, she becomes antsy. She’s too used to living on edge to find comfort in peaceful moments that extend for too long. How can a vengeful, warring god not be even worse off?

He doesn’t shy away from her; he doesn’t keep his distance. This speaks to Tem’s growing comfort, too. Osial is a being who could surely toss her away at his whim, and worse than that. She’d been extremely cautious around him for a while there, but now, they really do seem like…friends. And more than once, he’s displayed a strong defense over her that could be read as genuine protectiveness.

It elicits a specific desire in her. Tem is simpler than she’d like to admit, at least when it comes to feelings of intimacy. When this divine being, capable of more than she ever will be, who should have no use or need for such a small thing in comparison, expresses an angry concern over her, she feels small in an entirely different way. Her face warms, as does the rest of her body, and the desire for him to take her over in his rage clouds her mind of its usual hostility towards those types of situations.

Tem reaches out. She isn’t sure where exactly to touch, and the serpents hidden amongst his hair are still writhing in response to his anger from earlier. He’s mostly calmed now, and is at least focusing on the pot over the fire rather than her. But she seems intent on changing that, despite her discomfort with attention of that sort normally. Her fingers hover by his cheek but land on the nape of his neck instead, and gently tug to ensure his attention is pulled towards her, and at the same time, she raises herself a bit from her seat on the ground to lean in.

She regrets the action, feeling foolish for making such a move on a god, but if she stops now, it’ll be even worse. She’s already right there; she has to seize her remaining confidence and follow through. Her lips close gently over his, a start to a kiss but something she can easily pull away from if he does nothing in return.

The anger still simmers beneath his skin, though he's a lot more at ease now, letting it bubble beneath the surface, churning like the hidden currents of the tide. It is never simple for him to let go of his anger, remarkably less so when he's allowed his divinity to slip through the human guise, for blue to bleed through the human guise, staining skin first like a blush before becoming prominent. The hiss of his serpentine heads is comforting in a way, though they writhe angrily, it distributes the wrath and he can quell what is left so he is not poor company to the one beside him.

Osial is all too aware of the kind of monster his wrath can make him when there is little thought behind it, and though he does not regret his choices, there is an element of hindsight he cannot ignore.

Touch to his nape catches his attention, drawing it back towards her; the human who has captivated him so, evoking enough care out of him to have him protective of her, to summon such rage. He says little, curious as to where this may lead, vivid cerulean watching as she commands his attention, raising from the ground.

He cannot hide his interest entirely, as one of his serpentine heads curls about her arm, both locking it in place and nuzzling against her skin with a gentleness that exposes the once god more than he cares for.

As the tides are pulled by the moon, he moves, following her guidance with an ease that is rarely afforded to others, lips curling in the corner as he catches her intent. To think he has allowed her to come this close, to be receptive to what she offers when he has spent millenia loathing humanity for all its existence. A small voice whispers in his mind if only they could see you now... but he dismisses it in favour of this present moment as her lips graze his own. The past has no right to this right now, this is his alone.

"How audacious..." he whispers into the touch, the hissed lilt of his voice more compliment than criticism, before he leans in to the gesture, palm rising to cradle her cheek with a tenderness not often seen. Though gentle in touch, the greed of the god cannot be denied as he leans into the gesture, claiming what little space she has left for retreat as his own, other hand finding purchase against her waist so he might draw her against him. The distance vanquished he commits himself only to feeling, the fierce yet gentle press of lips, the warmth of her hand to his nape, the shudder that trickles down his spine as he commits himself to taking what is offered.

It is with a soft, breathless chuckle he draws away, not so far enough to create space, only so that words might might spoken, vivid cerulean fixated upon her, his thumb tracing her cheek. "Are you finally recognising the worth I afford you...?" How deep the affection he carries runs.