pure blue requiem.

sideblog for ff:u oc aqua sielu and co.. multiple verses, crossover & au friendly. profile photo by symphonicsoul!!

[aquaticsoul]

Smell the sea and feel the sky.

welcome to my new pinned post! i'm selective thread-wise. asks and IMs are open to everyone. triggers are tagged ___ tw .

please check out the links below!

promo || other muses || rules + about || interaction guide

playlist || askbox || meme library || table of contents

blog credits:

@symphonicsoul is responsible for sielu's post banners, divider, icons, and avatar.

@cafekitsune is responsible for haya's divider.

@strangergraphics made tuulta's divider.

[aquaticsoul]

@symphonicsoul // Varjo "Working yourself to the fade isn't going to help anyone, Kapteeni."

Beside Varjo's voice, the small room he considers his office has been mostly silent for hours. There's the occasional shuffle of papers or scratch of a pen or clink of his teacup against its saucer, but the ambience has become easy to tune out.

As much as he hates to admit it, Varjo is right.

He's fallen into a terrible habit lately. Overworking himself is the only thing he can do to drown out the grief of losing their squadron a few months ago, but it's not a permanent or sustainable solution.

What will his patients do if he fades too? There simply aren't many medical staff left enlisted. Certainly not enough to keep up with the demand or the war, especially given the fact most of them are new.

He sighs and leans back in his chair, looking over at his now-lukewarm cup of tea before his gaze lifts to meet Varjo's.

"You're right," he replies. "We should take a break. I just - have to stay out of my head somehow, you know?"

[rpmemes-galore]

for muses who don't understand the meaning of the phrase ' take a break ' ... sentence starters

"Why don't you just sleep?"

"Hey... hey! You're dozing off, again."

"I brought you something to eat / drink."

"The work will still be here after you rest."

"You haven't moved since I left, have you?"

"Stand up, walk around the table, at least."

"Put down the pen. You can finish that later."

"Yeah, you'll get this done, but at what cost?"

"I don't like when you get lost in work like this."

"Close your laptop. I'm mandating you a break."

"You really don't know how to take it easy, do you?"

"You have a headache? Have you had any water lately?"

"Working yourself into the ground isn't going to help anyone."

"I'm worries about you. You look like you haven't slept in days."

"If you're gonna keep working, do you at least want some coffee?"

"When was the last time you had something to eat? Or a shower?"

"Of course your eyes hurt, you've been staring at the screen for hours."

"You fell asleep on your paperwork. You need to take some time for yourself."

"You're barely staying upright. You need to lie down, they can function without you long enough for you to take a nap."

actions

send (pluck) for sender's muse to take paperwork / pen / computer mouse away from receiver's muse.

send (hidden) for sender's muse to hide receiver's phone / writing tools in hopes of getting them to relax

send (barricade) for sender's muse to block the doorway and not let receiver's muse leave until they agree to rest

send (pillow) for sender's muse to tuck a shirt or cushion under receiver muse's head when they doze off mid-work

send (nourish) for sender's muse to set food down in front of receiver's muse, because they haven't eaten in hours

[symphonicsoul]

⋯✧・♪♫♪・✧⋯ Sielu is running away from him as he lays there on the floor and chokes on his own tongue. He can hear screaming trailing down the hall but not the words being said because it's hard to hear anything when the sound of his own heart is drumming in his ears.

This is it.

He's going to die.

The sky is calling louder and louder and he doesn't know how to drown out the sound of it. For a deaf man, this really isn't the song he wants to hear right now but it's the loudest melody in the room.

Sielu is gone.

He knows he went running for help but that still means he's alone. He's alone. He's going to die alone. No one will know he's faded until only his Sielun Värit is left laying on the floor where he once was only moments ago. He can't feel his hand again. He can't feel the brace on his right hand. It's not there. Or did it come off? He doesn't know.

He feels like he's coming apart at the seams because he can't feel his arm at all.

Everything is getting dark and the sky is singing so loudly.

⏾⋆.˚ It's hard to miss the sound of his name. His name being screamed at the top of the person in question's lungs. His back goes rigid as he listens and it's Sielu. Sielu doesn't yell and he hasn't even said much in ... well ... years.

"Kapteeni." He says as he abandons his post and starts to run back inside. "Sielu is screaming."

There is no time to waste and something is telling him that this is about to be one of the worst days of his life. Sielu has barely interacted with anyone for the last two years so to hear him screaming now only has him all the more worried.

He meets him in the halls and all he finds is a scared frantic mess of man.

"I'm here. I'm here Sielu. What's wrong?"

[aquaticsoul]

The vice around his lungs squeezes so tight he feels they may burst as he doubles over in front of Varjo a complete mess of himself.

Now isn't the time to panic, but he doesn't fucking know how to stop. He chokes out a pathetic sob as he tries to pull in more air to explain, but all he can manage is, "Sinfonia."

He reaches forward to grab Varjo's hand, to lead him to the clearly dying man on the floor, and he can't seem to move fast enough. He doesn't feel like he can. He doesn't feel like he'll be able to help or keep Sinfonia alive, but he very well can't abandon him either.

Just because it feels hopeless doesn't mean it has to be, right? And maybe if he's lucky, Lord Haya will show up again.

If he didn't drive him away forever, anyway. He doesn't really know what a god of music will be able to fix, but surely he's more capable of helping than a regular Misterican.

Varjo takes off like a round fired from a gun, and Tuulta follows after once he picks his bag up off the ground. He's not sure why Sielu would be screaming, considering how silent the musician has become as of late, but it can't be good.

And with the way he only gets out Sitriini's name, it isn't. A million possibilities zip through his mind as his feet lift off the ground and he flies down the hall.

None of them, not a single one, prepares him for the actual sight of his godchild sprawled lifelessly on the palace floor, right arm unraveling before his eyes.

Arms are almost always the first to go. Arms or legs, and both are... difficult to work with. Fading limbs to this extent mean that the person is just as likely to be possible to bring back as they are to fade away forever, and the only real determinant is whether the Gods choose to assist him or not.

"Fuck - Varjo!" he barks. "Get me Palo and Leimahdus, meet in my office. RUN. I need more hands NOW."

He gathers the too-limp body into his arms, wasting no further precious seconds flying as fast as he can make himself go towards his office. All he can do is pray he's making the right call.

It gives him more options, more room, and overall better care if he's not in the floor.

"Listen to me Sitriini. Do not fucking fade on me," he pleads as he lays him on the sole bed and puts the railing down. "Not yet. Don't you dare."

Well-practiced hands work faster than his mind consciously registers as he pulls off the shirt that's in his way, tossing it to the floor. Monitors and oxygen come next - he needs someone to be able to read vitals when they get there so his focus isn't so split up - and of course it's his heart again that's the problem.

It's difficult to get access to a vein in his left arm, but on the second attempt he manages it.

"Hurry the hell UP!" he yells towards the hallway. "I NEED HELP!"

[symphonicsoul]

⋯✧・♪♫♪・✧⋯ He wants him to take it back - and he doesn't know if it's the thing he said about Pilvi that he can't remember or the entire album itself. He doesn't know because he can't remember what that awful thing was even if he's been told multiple times by his family.

"Sielu I - "

He doesn't want to lie to him even though that's all he ever does. About Syksy. About Liekki. About his ribs. About his face. About being sick all the time - he lies to him about everything even if the only time he ever told the truth was when he said he loved him.

That was something he could never fake and he never wanted to.

He's crying. He's sobbing and he wants to - to get up. To hug him. To comfort him. To ease his worries and his tears. He doesn't want to fight with him he says and he doesn't want to fight either.

" - I can't lie to you." He starts with a sigh as he stands. " - I can't remember what I said. Not - because it didn't matter but - because I can't remember anything. I know why we started fighting because I've been told. But the actual memory of it - is gone. My last memory picks up when we went to the noodle cafe and then it's blank for a very long time."

He's sighing as he stands, wincing a little in pain for a moment as his heart starts drumming in his chest. So he just puts his hand over his heart for a moment to try to focus himself through the pain.

"I - love Pilvi very dearly and I am - ashamed I said something so awful. There's no - exc-cuse." He's clearing his throat and clutching his chest a little harder.

"You have every right not to forgive me. I - I'm - I'm - s- sor - "

He's gasping as he doubles over. A step forward with arms raised to offer a hug, nearly there to wrap his arms around the weeping man when he jerks back and collapses to the ground.

He's gasping for air. His chest is screaming. He feels like he's on fire. He can only pull at his tie as he starts to panic.

Not now.

Not like this.

Any time but now.

He can't breathe.

[aquaticsoul]

There's no time for either of them to process anything. He still doesn't understand why Sinfonia said what he did, but apparently neither does he.

No one will be getting any answers, though. He watches in horrified slow-motion as the man clutches his chest and tries to undo his tie while he collapses to the ground. His pulse sounds all wrong and he doesn't sound like he's breathing correctly - or at all, for that matter.

The universe is a cruel place with a sick, unrelenting sense of humor.

His legs act before his brain catches up, and he finds himself sprinting down the hall towards the palace's entrance.

Clearly Liekki has not been handling Sinfonia's health well, so of course he's bolting for Varjo. A combat medic is probably better in an emergency anyway.

"VARJO! HELP!" he screams. It doesn't feel loud enough. He doesn't feel fast enough.

Nothing feels like enough and it won't until he knows for a fact Sinfonia is alive and will stay that way.

"VARJO!"

[symphonicsoul]

⋯✧・♪♫♪・✧⋯ He's crying - even if he hangs his head to hide his tears. He knows the sound of it. He knows the sound of the ocean's waves in distress. He knows the sound of pain in his voice. He knows the sounds of his body, he's spent enough time in his presence and in his nest and just laying next to him in the bath. He knows the sound of him. When something is right and when everything is wrong - and right now everything is wrong.

His own heart sinks at the questions. He - thinks there's someone else. He - thinks he gave his name away. He - thinks he could replace him so easily, and if this is the case then just simply telling him he didn't wouldn't be enough. He'd never believe him. Sielu's anxiety is a fickle beast and when she sinks her fangs into him there is little most people can do to pull them out.

The voice he loves is full of tears and anger and hurt and resentment and betrayal. He can't just explain to him that the album was for him.

So he looks back to his desk where the papers he was grading lay and he contemplates working while he speaks but somehow he thinks that would be even more rude. The message he was trying to send got all jumbled and messed up in the waters because anxiety got in the way.

But there is something that - changed in recent days. He's hit a sense of being at peace with himself and if he - it something happens it happens. Maybe it's his failing health. Maybe it's the alcohol clouding his vision. Maybe he's hit that sense of mania when he just doesn't give a damn what happens to himself any more. He doesn't know.

It's like the heavens themselves whispering that he can rest soon, so he may as well get it all out there and clear the air. The way his chest tightens and his heart feels like it squeezes isn't really helping anything but he will push through as he always does.

It's been feeling tense and tight since this morning.

His hands raise and fold into themselves on his desk as he sighs, eyes locked on the paperwork spread out before him with a somberness reflecting in them as he sighs.

"I knew you'd be in here about this eventually but I didn't think it would be like this. I'll tell you. I named the album Rakkauslaulu because that name belongs to the man who has my heart. He's had it for well over a decade now and I just needed him to know how I felt. He's my best friend and the love of my life. I've never felt the way I do about anyone else.

Even through everything. Even through the fighting and the yelling and the miscommunication, I still feel the same. He makes me laugh and smile and feel warm. He's the best cook I've ever met and he's calm and weird and a little goofy. He has the most beautiful green horns, and eyes like the ocean. I drown in them every time I look into them. He's a short little power house but you'd never know it and he will tell you proudly that he can bench Taivas.

So even if his self esteem is in the garbage, and he has horrible anxiety and his depression is wretched some days or weeks or sometimes months. I love him just the same. I've only ever called one man by the name and I only ever will. He's the only man I would come out of retirement for. The only man I'd write love songs for because he is my love song."

He's shifting with his phone for a moment until he unlocks it and holds it out to him flat in his palm so the wallpaper is showing - something that couldn't have been changed that quickly. A selfie that he took with Sielu years ago dressed in their silly pajamas making goofy faces at the screen. The same wallpaper that's been on his phone for years.

"He's my little shark. He's you."

There is a heavy sigh as his shoulders drop.

"There is no one else Sielu. Never has been. Never will be. It's you. It always will be even if you don't feel the same. It's okei. I don't expect you to take me back, but I couldn't keep choking on it. I still love you. "

[aquaticsoul]

Each word chips away at an already-broken heart. He can barely keep the pieces in his hands anyway, their edges jagged and painful to hold, but now they're being pulverized into sharp dust as he remembers for the millionth time that day that he's supposed to be angry.

He's supposed to hate this man because he's not supposed to tolerate someone saying such awful things about Pilvi. He's supposed to hate this man to keep him from getting so close he gets hurt by a flurry of fists again, but his heart has always been much louder than foolish things like logic.

And his heart doesn't hate him. His heart, even for as shattered as it is, still yearns for everything they had. His heart, even for as much as he wishes it'd die, cannot be quelled or suppressed.

There was never any hatred. There was only the most dangerous emotion of them all: love.

Love that gives way to trust. Trust that gives way to betrayal and despair.

His mind screams at him to turn and walk away, reminding him of his vow to not give anyone such a fragile piece of himself again, but all he can make himself do in reality is stand right where he is and sob.

Crying is one of the only things he's good at.

"Then take it back," he squeaks, and he's not sure if he means the album or the words that started this fight to begin with.

"Just take it back and -"

He shouldn't be saying this. He knows. He knows, and yet still, his heart speaks for him and gives him away.

"and- I- I would rather talk about it than make it the entire kingdom's business. I just- don't want to hurt you and I don't- I don't know. I don't want to fight. I don't know what I want but I can't take it anymore."

[rpmusings-galore]

                 i’d rather pretend I’m something                    better than these broken parts

                                                  pretend I’m something other                                                       than this mess that I am

[rpmemes-galore]

it's so much fun writing older caretaker muses. like, yes, let my muse take care of yours. bc they thrive on it. let them make your muse feel safe and cared for. let them make yours food. let them give yours someplace to rest. let them protect yours. let them give your muse a soft place to land and someone in their corner. i just love writing older caretaker muses...

[memedrome]

You can ask me about my Muses any time!

You have questions about my muse's lore? Their friends, enemies, their dreams and fears? Or you're wondering about my portrayal of them? Shoot ahead, I love yapping about my muse and their world!

Just some samples to toss in;

Can you give us a summary of your muse's lore?

How different is your portrayal from canon?

What kind of AU or crossover would you like to write?

Do you have any plot ideas you would like to try?

Post a random headcanon of them that you have?

OC samples;

Can you tell us more about your OC's home?

Who are your OC's enemies and what are they like?

Do you have canon verses for your OC?

If they're a Fandom OC, what is their relation to the cast is like?

Post a random fact or treat of your OC?

[symphonicsoul]

He had been minding his own business. The night had been quiet. It had been as normal as it's ever been, with Furtună coming to lay on him as he, himself, laid down for the night. He'd had a normal day, and a normal class and a normal time at the bar playing his mandolin and singing to the crowd.

It all had been so normal.

Normal until there was creaking on the wooden floor of his small home on the far side of the village. Normal until Furtună started growling and hissing into the darkness. Normal until he swore he heard feet creeping across his floor and his cat had reached his small paw forward just in time to bat him across the face enough to wake him up entirely.

It was all he could do to run. A blade had come down on his pillow as he rolled out of the way. A figure in a dark cloak and he couldn't make out their face in the darkness. He didn't have time to change or put his hair up or put on his boots.

He didn't even have the time to find Futună in the darkness because he could hear the sound of the heartbeat that belonged to the person that attacked him. His own was practically thudding in his ears as he ran. Ran until his legs gave out and he hid himself in the forest amongst the brush. He was panting.

He couldn't breathe.

He left him behind. He left him behind.

He has to go back. He has to go back for Furtună.

All he can do is sit there and cry as he thinks about it. He left him. He left his only friend... what if they hurt him. What if they -

He had to stifle a squeak that tries to leave him as he thinks about and he has to stifle another as he hears something - someone move and now there is the sight of large wings filling up his sight and blue. This man is so blue. He can't be here to hurt him - can he? He's not the one that attacked them - is he?

He's shaking his head quietly at his question as he holds his knees to his chest and cries. He left him.

He left Furtună behind. He can't leave. He can't go anywhere without him.

[aquaticsoul]

The man shakes his head in response. No, he's not hurt.

He really does have to be stressed though. Emotionally, he's obviously in agony.

The slight frown on the avian's face deepens into something even more concerned. Something is very wrong with this whole situation. The chase, the commotion, and now the tears that feel as if they're tiny daggers chipping away at his own heart.

Haya's voice whispers in the back of his mind that their souls know each other and that if he can just get through to this man and keep him safe, things will work out just fine.

He has no reason to disbelieve the Gods, and especially not Haya.

"Hey," he begins, keeping his voice low as not to be any more intimidating than he already knows he is. "I know you're scared. I'm only here to help. I will protect you. Can you tell me your name? Mine is Căntec... and... where are your shoes, my friend?"

[aquaticsoul]

fun tip! when you get into a writing block, pick up another muse to motivate your ADHD brain with ✨ novelty ✨ because now my muses altogether in general are very high. i am sooo relieved the block has come to an end

[symphonicsoul]

⋯✧・♪♫♪・✧⋯ Komea Poika?! His whole face goes red at the sound of it. Is he talking to him? He has to be. There's no one else in here. Sielu's looking at him with such love and care in his eyes and he knows he's smiling at him behind his mask - he doesn't need to see it to know.

"Ah - yes - I'd love to. Anywhere you think is nice. I don't know many places to eat because I don't like going out much. We can pick stuff up from the bakery. I couldn't find the time to go this morning."

It is the third Wednesday of the month and he was late getting the usual pastries he left on Sielu's desk.

[aquaticsoul]

Oh joyous day.

He gets to pick where they eat? Anywhere he thinks is "nice", apparently, and -

No. Not joyous anymore. Anxious.

What if he chooses somewhere that he thinks is nice, but isn't actually up to Sinfonia's standards? What if he hates the place they go to? What if he embarrasses himself?

What even are Sinfonia's standards? High-class probably. Nowhere he's ever set foot in before. Somewhere he could only dream of until being employed with his current salary.

Even then, the waitlist for those types of places is miles long and he doesn't really know how to act when he goes there. Sinfonia says he doesn't even know many places to eat because he doesn't leave often, which means if it's not up to palace food standards they may as well not go at all.

Unless that's exactly why Sinfonia wants him to pick. Maybe it'd be good for him to experience the world outside for once, knowing he's safe from any potential weirdos with Sielu at his side.

"Uh- you ever been to a diner? My favorite one has good food, but it's different than the food here. More homey."

[symphonicsoul]

✩°｡⋆☼⋆｡°✩ He finds himself pausing to think about his question and then tilts his head to the side at the sound of it - he is asking - oh because of his mist.

"You sit at the table with the rest of us? Two of Usva's binds are green if you're worried. Pilvi's prime is also green and he has a pink bind. Usva does as well. I'm not worried about your mist Terälehti. It only kills if you deliberately exhale deeply. It's not going to hurt anyone if you're just eating dinner. So there's no need to worry."

He's smiling again as he answers, folding his hands in front of himself on his desk.

"But you're not allergic to anything, are you? Sitriini is deathly allergic to shellfish so it's fine if you are. We can make accommodations for it no problem."

[aquaticsoul]

Maybe this is why Sielu shoved him in here.

Maybe it was so that he could understand that, despite the way things work out towards the edge of the island, things are much different in the palace. Both his siblings have tried to explain it to him and not once did he find himself able to fully grasp it.

Even something as simple as understanding it is relatively safe for him to eat at the table is usually too much to ask for, but not here.

Not with the King himself and, therefore, likely not with any of the Royal Knights either. Further, the two Princes are bound to people like himself so it is becoming increasingly obvious that the discrimination is - as suspected - entirely Church-based.

Lord Aurinko is far more concerned with any potential food allergy he may have than with him being present and it leaves his jaw hanging open behind his mask as he stands there in stunned silence for a moment before he finds his words again.

"I- Of course... sorry. I'm not used to invitations. No, I'm not allergic to anything that I know of. Thank you for asking."

[fics-pics-and-tricks]

What is your OC’s favorite home-cooked meal that they can cook themselves?

[aquaticsoul]

sielu is an excellent cook and his favorite meal is probably anything to do with fish

[aquaticsoul]

i'm glad i did get to partake. i love april fool's day solely because of dash nonsense

[symphonicsoul]

⋯✧・♪♫♪・✧⋯ The way his face lights when he steps in the room is as unsettling as it always is and it's more that this man has always been a little too close to them for comfort to allow that look to do anything short of making his skin crawl. He was far too close to Helakan and he was far too close to Setä Huippu and Täti Hiekka too. Way too close and he still holds beliefs to this day that he had something to do with it.

But that's not why he's here and that's something he just remains quiet about to this day. No one listened to them then, so no one would listen to them now.

"Sitriini, to what pleasure do I owe for your appearance?"

And he can't say he likes the tone in his voice. It's far too familiar and he has always always ALWAYS hated it when he uses his first name. He never gave him permission to do that and quite frankly he doesn't give a damn about his station. It doesn't absolve him of the very basic cultural rules.

"Pilvi. That's what."

It's a half snarl from the symphony as he stops before the preacher's desk with one hand on his hip as he glares forward.

"What about the prince? You don't seem very happy."

"Why would I be happy to hear about how you've been treating my nephew? Do not forget - "

"He's more like a first cousin once removed. You know you and Aurinko aren't actually brothers. Don't be silly now, Sitriini."

The growl that rumbles up from the back of his throat is entirely involuntary and he just finds himself doing it as his arms raise to cross over his chest.

"Pissing me off at the start isn't good way to take this Sumu."

He watches as the Silver Fog straightens his back in his chair and motions to the one in front of his desk.

"Forgive me. I know how close you and His Majesty are. Sit down, tell me what's on your mind."

"Sielu said that he can't handle this himself, implying that you banned a royal Soul Bind from the Church. He said the way you treat Pilvi is horrible and that you've been rude to his prime. You know can't ban a Soul Bind from entering the Church of all places, right?"

"Well His Majesty has asked that I do not enter the palace unannounced, I can ask the same of a Soul Bind - can't I?"

"One that's entirely different. You got banned from the palace because you spoke out of line about Setä and Täti. Two, you can't stop a Soul Bind from bringing you issues in concerns to their Liege."

"Shouldn't he process them through Tulet first anyways?"

"He can't process anything through Revon if part of the concerns are about Revon. Sielu said you were being colorist to him and I swear that better not be the case."

There is a sigh from the older man as he listens and then folds his hands in front of himself with his head dropping ever so slightly.

"I understand you're upset, Sitriini but you have always been one with a fiery temper ever since you were a boy. Take a deep breath for a moment and we can have some tea and talk this out like men. If you're all riled up, we're never going to understand each other."

He finds himself half leaning forward in the chair he was sitting in to growl a little at the mention of his own anger before he's sitting back and taking in a deep breath. He watches as the elder man calls for one of his attendants and asks for some Star Flower Tea to be brought for them.

"It's your favorite, right?" He asks and he swears there is a smile behind his mask as he watches deep blue eyes soften.

"You and Sielu are close, right? Good friends? I don't know him very well since I'm not at the palace every day but there had to be a reason that His Majesty picked him to teach the prince, isn't there? What do you think?"

And it feels like a trap. It feels like a trap to bring down his walls and he hates how fast it works. Sielu is - the fastest way to ease his anger and he just can't bring himself to hold on to any kind of flame when he lets that man's waters surround him. He can already feel the blush creeping into his cheeks as he thinks about him.

He was just trying to see how many animal shaped erasers he could balance on his nose this morning and even if everyone else would see him as a clown, he knows better. He has always found his silly little antics endearing.

"Friends, Joo. He's my best friend." He starts as he finds his hands lacing together to have his fingers push and pull at themselves while he thinks of blue. While he lets his whole mind fill to the brim with the color.

"We - we're courting."

"Oh I see. It's quite serious then? I had no idea. Tell me about him."

"He's brilliant. He's dangerously intelligent - like Valo is but in other ways. He's silly and fun and a bit of a clown. He knows how to make me laugh and I love his jokes. He's the most brilliant musician I have ever met. Truly, he's been blessed by Lord Haya. He plays cello and his voice - " there is a dreamy sigh as he pauses. "- he sounds just like a Mist Dragon when he sings."

"I see. He sounds like quite the catch."

And there are eyes on him, practically watching his hand as he reaches for the cup of tea that was sat down in front of him. He's bringing it to his lips and he can't deny how good it tastes and there is a small hum of contentment as he takes a sip. It's - it's sweetened with just a bit too much sugar - just the way he's always liked it when it makes the whole cup transform into some kind of liquid candy.

It would be a waste to just let it sit there. It would be a waste to not drink it all. So there is a second drink and then a third and soon he finds himself relaxing from the heat of it all. His phone is ringing and he doesn't know why. It's past his hour, so he doesn't have any where to be today.

He's sliding it out of his pocket to see Kummisetä's number bright on the screen but as he moves to answer it -

"It can wait, can't it Sitriini? I think what we're talking about it much more important and I never get to see you. Things have been going well for you then - " The elder man asks, smiling as he watches the Symphony merely turn his phone over and place it face down on the desk in front of him.

"Joo I - " He pauses for a moment as he tries to think. His head is a bit fuzzy and he's trying to remember what they were talking about. " - Sielu wasn't it? He - Ei - he hates the church - he wouldn't want to come here."

"Oh? Why's that - what has he said - "

And he doesn't know if the likes the tone of the other's voice so he take a moment to drink more of his tea in the hopes it will clear his head so he can think a little better.

" - He thinks you're an idiot. He hates you. All of Pilvi's binds do. They hate how you treat him - " He's pausing again to take yet another drink of his tea as he shakes his head again hoping it will help him think.

"I - I'm sure they don't understand. The boy tends to overexaggerate. You know that as well as I do."

"I - joo. You're right. He can get really wound up for no reason... "

"Who called you?"

"Oh um - Kummisetä - I should - "

" - He can wait. It's not like he's your actual father. We should talk more about Sielu - Don't you think you deserve someone a little better - who doesn't hate the church?"

"He doesn't hate the church - he hates you."

"I see. That's almost the same thing though isn't it?"

He's taking a few more drinks of his tea to help clear his head but it's getting so hard to focus - he finds himself rubbing at his eyes trying to see it will help clear everything up.

"Ei I - what were you saying?"

"That you're going to find someone much better for you than Sielu. You shouldn't have someone so negative around you Sitriini. You should be focused on your work - "

"I - really? That doesn't seem quite right."

"My dear boy, I think you're confused - perhaps you just need a moment to rest. You should go back to the palace and get some sleep, Sitriini. I'll - see you soon, okei?"

He's nodding but it feels weird to stand and even weirder walking. Everything is wobbly and unsteady and flying is a beast to accomplish right now. He feels like he's almost forgotten how to do it - and right when he feels himself wobble in the sky strong arms are steadying him only to scoop him up entirely and carry him back to the palace himself.

"I've got you kiddo." The voice comes and he knows the deep rumble of the shadow's voice when he hears it. For now- it's safe. Varjo will put him to bed he's sure. He can sleep until they get back home.

[aquaticsoul]

His day begins normally, everything the same as it usually is save for one small irritant.

There's just been something off about the air. Something about to happen, a disaster of some kind about to unfold. He knows too well the staticky way the atmosphere feels when shit's about to go horribly wrong.

Sitruuna used to tease him about this odd sixth sense of his, yet no one could deny the uncanny accuracy it had. A bad feeling is more than a bad feeling, at least to Tuulta.

A bad feeling is usually a correct feeling.

And lately, a bad feeling has almost always been related to either Sitriini or Joki.

With no news from any of the medics stationed outside the palace, it once again looks like it'll be one of the two. Displeasing, of course, but he can handle that far more easily than a mudslide or a flood or some other massive tragic event.

Not much changes in the day-to-day operations in the palace (including which patients have persistent issues), not since the ceasefire was called years ago.

There are alarmingly few people who seem to realize that it's not an end. It's a pause. He isn't privy to the exact details of their agreement with Windaria, so as far as he's concerned, the war could start again at any moment.

He honestly hopes it is one person's medical issue rather than something political. There are just some images burned into the backs of his eyelids that he'd rather not relive more than he has to.

With a deep breath to steel himself, he rises from his chair and heads down the hall towards Aurinko's office.

If Taivas is calm, that's one less thing to worry about and one more thing he can cross off his list in his quest to figure out what's wrong.

A peek around the corner tells him all he needs to know. Taivas is at his post with a steaming mug in hand and not an ounce of concern evident on his face.

Good. No blade drawn, no issue.

Perhaps Joki is out of bed when he shouldn't be again, then, and that's all this is.

But a glance in his quarters says that, for once, he's not fighting the doctor's orders given to him yesterday. He is still sound asleep.

Another item off the list of probable concerns.

"It's always Sitriini lately, huh?" he mumbles after he closes the door.

More like it's always Liekki, but he can't voice that aloud.

Sitriini's conditions are debilitating, but they aren't typically progressive. Despite this known fact - he would know, he's a fucking doctor himself - his godson only seems to get worse by the month.

No amount of pestering or auditing or half-empty threatening has changed anything over the past few years. One of these days, he's going to have to do something drastic about it and beg for forgiveness instead of permission.

Maybe today, even.

He pulls out his phone and sends a quick message to Sitriini asking if he's alright. Five minutes pass without an answer, so he calls.

And it continues to ring until it says he's unavailable.

Now there's a reason for his rising anxiety.

Now he has to find Sitriini himself, and it's proving to be a tedious affair.

He is not with Sielu, nor is he with Palo or Sydän.

He is not with Valo. He is not with Aamunkoitto. He is not with Vuorovesi or Aurinko or Tuli or Hiillos or Syksy or Liekki.

The last place he can think to check, with great exasperation, is with Safiirin.

"Safiirin," he starts, "have you seen Sitriini?"

"He was in a fuss after his hour with Usva," she replies. "I heard him ranting. Something about the way Pilvi is being treated. I haven't seen him since."

And finally, he has an answer.

"Did you not follow up- nevermind. Thank you," he says.

This has gotten much worse.

He turns to go back down the hall where Pilvi's binds are. "REVON!" he shouts, to which the Knight in question calls back from Aamunkoitto's classroom's general direction.

"Tuulta? What can I do for you?"

"Is Pilvi alright?" he asks. Surely. Surely Pilvi is just fine. Revon would be breaking down otherwise. Still, he has to ask.

"Mostly. Why?"

"He's not hurt? Or sick?"

"No," Revon says, "just very stormy and frustrated."

"But Safiirin said that Sitriini said someone was mistreating him."

"Ah."

There's a pause that he doesn't like. There's a drop in his stomach that he likes even less. He's going to hate this answer, whatever it is.

"We had a meeting at the Church a few days ago. The Piipsa was very rude to him and to me. It's made him stormy."

"Oh," he sighs.

But Sitriini is protective, so he must have gone to the Church.

"Oh NO."

And he's off again, practically running back to his office where Varjo is still plugging away at their shared reorganization efforts. The man's head lifts and gold eyes filled with concern meet his own.

"What's wrong?" Varjo questions. "Who's dead?"

"No one yet. I need you to go look in the skies around the Church for Sitriini. I'm going there myself."

It takes him nearly no time at all to get there at his top speed, and his momentum doesn't slow when his feet touch the crystal floors just past the grand entrance. Despite the echo of his own steps and his pulse roaring in his ears, he can still pinpoint exactly where that rotten sewer snake of a man is.

He doesn't try to hide his own cutting glare as he heaves the door open without care for etiquette.

The Piipsa's office smells faintly of tea and old books. Somehow, it's still disgusting. Every cell in his body is repulsed by everything about this place and it has been for decades.

"Where is Sinfonia?" he growls.

[aquaticsoul]

△ + Harjanne, how did you feel when Kipina said he saw Sinfonia

Invasive Questions || OPEN

"I rate this like... a four, as long as Kipinä and Tuulta are out of earshot."

He lets out a deep sigh as his eyes turn towards the floor and his arms fold over his chest. Too-long green bangs shadow a good portion of his face.

"Angry. Bitter. For all I know, maybe he did, but... fuck, man, we'd just lost Vuori and it just seemed cruel for the universe to give us a glimpse of Sinfonia when we couldn't find him. I didn't expect Tuulta to ever come back, and then I thought we'd all just die and it would have been partly Kipinä's dumbass mouth to do us in. Thank the Celestial Mother we found him again. Even if he's too hurt to talk to us right now. I'll take it."