to live a thousand sacrifices

you are not a god; you no longer bleed red

[arboriter]

arboriter - selective & formerly affiliated Su, guided by Kanoesa (she/her), 21+

mobile links: dossier / mun / header/sidebar by alina

details below the cut

this blog is selective. i will only write with mutuals, mostly former members of the group gnostic hymns. i am also only interested in writing with other hoyoverse rp blogs (hi3, hsr, genshin)

this blog was formerly affiliated with gnostic hymns. all developments that occurred within the group are considered part of this blog's canon.

content warnings: canon typical violence, depersonalization

i am a very busy person, so it may take me months to respond to threads. if it's been over a year, please reach out- it's likely it's fallen through my housekeeping. for that matter, if i've taken too long and you've lost interest, please just tell me! no hard feelings

askbox/plotting: always open to new threads/plots. feel free to shoot an ask or message me on discord (if you have it)

shipping: for my comfort, i am singleship, and will only ship with muns i know well. su is currently not in a relationship. in addition, i will not write nsfw.

please read my dossier for muse specific notes.

[arboriter]

WHAT ENTERS THE ROOM BEFORE YOU DO?

( Su, )

THE CAUTION

you arrive quietly, like a breath taken before speaking. you choose where to stand. where to sit. who to look at. your presence isn’t loud but it’s deliberate, weighted with attention. people often miss you at first. that’s fine. you’re not here to be consumed immediately. you are gathering information, reading undercurrents, noticing what isn’t being said. when you do engage, it’s precise. thoughtful. real. and by then, you’ve already seen everything. Colours: Slate, mist grey, muted sage Scene: Sitting near a window, watching reflections more than faces, storing details you’ll remember later.

tagging: anyone who'd like

[aevitium]

✧ ˖ — buried in before

[aevitium]

Oft, Elysia wonders what they might be like as people if the word die was not so light upon their tongues. It is a certain inevitability, an occupational hazard even, that the acceptance of death come easier. In their case, they have all accepted it far too many a time. Accepted their friends', accepted their own.

She is grateful that Su does not bother boring her with the details. They've played this game before, he knows she will pretend to doze off or accuse him of expecting too much of a pretty girl. And there is a sadness there, in that. In the flippancy for their lives, for how they end. For the circumstances by which they are allowed to continue on despite that.

"Explains why you're see-through," a giggle, like a whistle in her throat.

The curve of his smile, the flash of his iris. It is familiar, a lifetime fifty thousand odd years away. The Elysia of then might have gasped, scandalized by eyes that she has always known he could open, and for old time's sake she almost does.

But she settles instead for faux offense, huffing through her nose. As though the accusation is untrue, or unfair, when really there is no reason at all.

"Tch, Su!" Arms fold over her chest, nose upturned. "A girl is to be called upon, not do the calling! Surely even you know that~" But then she sighs, and her smile returns as though it never left. "It's been a long time, I've been thinking about hosting a little reunion."

It's how she pads the conversation for the next question. "You've spoken to him, I'm sure?"

[arboriter]

His agreement is a hum in response, caught (as he always was, and as he allowed himself to be) in the music that she surrounded herself with. It was a different serenity than his, one that prided itself on simple joys rather than the lack thereof- filled with movement and the shadows of life.

Even here, even now, she moves, and he is acutely aware of how much he doesn't. How his chest does not rise or fall- or even catch a breath when surprised. How at most his eyelids shut again, automatically, at a lack of focus- how that had been the new instinct, rather than to keep them open.

He turns slightly, lips parting to betray surprise, the slightest of changes.

"Sorry," He says first, out of habit. Then, a characteristic silence, commonplace enough that he can hope to disguise his own thoughts. "…A reunion?"

"How will you host it, without calling upon the others?" It's a tease- it's a deflection.

[arboriter]

transient shadows

[seenohearnovishnu]

Oh to hear his familiar voice, even just twice. While there are many factors in hostile foes or even just protective measures in creatures willing to hide to protect themselves, hallucinations are not something new. The human mind is malleable and easily shaped by experiences alone but something has kept his hopes from getting so far it borders on letting his guard down. He's in a foreign land after reality has kicked him from his last landing attempt upon the moon—he cannot say he wasn't weary, but he also cannot deny the happiness.

He and Su had not followed the same circles within Fire MOTH at the start, but he wasn't without his memories of his senior circling around eventually. When you blaze a future for humanity, you get to know your team and your coworkers. Or Kosma likes to think so—given he has to put his memory to the test.

He thinks back. It takes him a noticeable amount of time, but not to remember each detail. It took him so long because he hides some details that wouldn't mean much to anyone else. "... I was on my way to the moon. I don't think I made it because of the looks of it. My situation, I mean."

The looks of it indeed. He was on his way down, propulsion forward into descent with great speed. He would be faster if he had taken his other form but he hadn't wanted to. For many reasons. Looking back it would have perhaps... no. His face scrunched up a tad in displeasure. No. He can't think like that. What matters is now. Either way, he's observed a moon here—surely there was nothing strange about that in this world.

"Mr. Bodhi can you tell me what happened after? How did the others fare in their missions?" A minor tease for information, stranded as he had been earlier with no information. Now? He has potential answers.

[arboriter]

It was kind, to give an answer. It was cruel. Su was not meant to influence the world, and what greater influence would there be but the news of their complete and utter failure? Su was a mentor, a senior, a dreamer- and what better to leave the living than the promise of a future?

"You made it to the moon," Su begins. It is true, in the barest of facts- Kosma had made it to the moon. Daybreak had ended there, on the silver symbol of the night. Perhaps it would have been ironic, if it were not for all else that occurred.

"If you don't remember the fight, I will not go into detail. That battle was lost, and any remaining survivors retreated to cryo pods." To go any further would have to be at the behest of Kosma himself- not for any fear of reliving the past on Su's part, for that was all he could do, but in an effort to spare the youth…

Spare him of what, exactly?

When all was said and done, his mission was a relic of a bygone age. In knowing of its completion, could he learn to leave it behind, in the way Bodhi never could?

"The projects… failed, Kosma. But the new era succeeded, where we could not."

[purerationality]

𝖧𝖤𝖢𝖠𝖳𝖮𝖬𝖡 𝖥𝖮𝖱𝖬𝖴𝖫𝖠𝖤

𝗌𝗎 & 𝖽𝗋. 𝗆𝖾𝗂 — 𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗎.

[purerationality]

As Su enters, MEI follows. The erratic sounds of Chantilly and Meridian's footsteps fade as they hurry down the hallway.

Silently, the doors slide shut behind her. She doesn't answer his question right away. Instead, as she circles around her desk, she gestures toward the chair across from her and says, “Take a seat.” Then, after a delay, perhaps out of courtesy, but certainly not out of pity or sentiment, she adds, “ — if you'd like.” She, however, remains standing, her back now turned towards Su as she flips through a dense cabinet of files. The faint noises each folder, each page makes build into a peculiar rhythm, almost like the rhythm of a beating heart.

“Ultimately, it's up to you.” MEI says this without any ceremony, without the expected flourishes of empowerment or agency. It's merely presented as fact, because — in a sense, it is. Because he asked this question. It casts doubt on whether she should have promoted him, but there is no one else. She just needs him to believe he has chosen this, to take the noose of his grief and fashion it into something else. She needs him to submit willingly to what will one day become his own torment.

Her fingers continue slowly flicking through the files, her eyes scanning each label for a pertinent name: SPEIRS. When she finds it, her hand hesitates before pulling it out. A thick folder of papers: communication, summaries, reports. She turns around to gently place the folder onto her desk — in such a way that the label is clearly visible to Su. Smoothing a hand over the surface of the folder, she looks to Su's face. His closed eyes, that streak of nascent green — is it kindness or callousness that limits her to ignoring these changes?

“Of course, your expertise is invaluable to MOTH. You are the best candidate to replace Professor Speirs.” There is no sign of flattery in her voice; she is being genuine. Even so, it is still a performance. She has performed similar scripts before; the situations were slightly different, but shared the same themes. Valuable assets — people, minds, talents — undermined by the human weaknesses of grief and fear, on the brink of turning away from their responsibility to humanity's salvation. The things she said or didn't say — in order to persuade, force, condemn them to stay.

The folder remains closed underneath her hand. She remembers what Speirs had to say about Su: a genius mind, a soft heart. She has a sense that it might still be true — a premonition that it might always be. The canteen in his hand, his hesitation for the position despite coming to the headquarters, the words he has spoken so far in this office ...

A soft heart, rare as it is in these times, has its uses.

“That is why I asked Kevin to invite you here.” She places her trust in Kevin, bets that he has said the right things. Kevin is the only one who can reach the depths of Su's hopes and fears — one who already has. If he hadn't, Su wouldn't be here, would he? “But ... I will respect your decision, either way.”

[arboriter]

Su sits. It is an uncomfortable movement, slow and methodical, the play-acting of normalcy. He feels calmer than he can remember feeling in a long time, but all the same, calm itself could only be attributed to him by an external observer. The chair’s legs were uneven- but he adjusts himself carefully, keeping it balanced- quiet, preventing it from disrupting the scene before him.

MEI searches through her files, counting down the moments until he makes his choice. She sets down the folder gently, but Su hears the slamming of a gavel, or the soft click of a door locking. He does not need to open his eyes to know what it says.

SPEIRS.

In an unconscious movement, he leans forward- just slightly, only enough for the click of the fourth leg as it hits the ground, as if it would make it hurt any less. A life, summarized in files, of achievements, failures, and reports… and a name. If his breath also catches, he does not notice, for in it he hears the words that had been echoed by the men he had mourned- there is no time for grief.

And distantly, he recognizes that MEI had offered him a nominal way out, for a rejection that he knows he will not take, that he believes she knows he wouldn’t either. For all his abilities, most still new and veiled to him, his foresight could not apply any more clearly to any but himself. Perhaps she held that very same view, that every word he speaks, every movement he makes, had already been defined by choices made in the past, shaping the man he is now, and who he is meant to be.

"I…" He is breathless, his own voice hollow- he knows, he recognizes that for all their words, grief is not something to be controlled, and he has been asked to make a decision far too soon. The files remain under her hand- SPEIRS- the name of a man who had taken him under his wing while he the shock of another death had not even loosened its grasp.

It is in his memory that Su stills, and the tension that draws him does not release but finds its home in an exhaustion he will learn to ignore.

"I'll continue the research," Su finds himself again, in the promise of tomorrow, as he did once before, and would again. He is not- would never be- as methodical as she is, or as calculating, but he finds his own calm upon settling of his heart. "If I could have the research notes he left behind…?"

There is more that he needs to ask for- but to do so is a promise to shatter again.

[arboriter]

ooc;

Hello, everyone! Here to just make it official on the tumblr dash- with the closing of the group, feel free to reach out to me if you'd like to continue threading, either in the responses on this post or in dms!

I'll keep responding to any thread that keeps being bounced at me on all three, and will be accepting new threads on Su in the future o/ See you in the stars~

[arboriter]

level 1 eremite vs level 100 dragon

combat doc

[iustitians]

"... There is no need for any of this, you know."

Third time Neuvillette has visited Sumeru in recent times, and third time he runs into a local crisis. The God of Verdure needs to seriously get a grip on her territory. He had thought higher of her wisdom.

Well, that does not matter here and now, though he is slowly but surely reaching a point where he might file a complaint to the Sanctuary of Surasthana. To not even be able to visit on official business without the situation going off the rails and turning into danger is kind of ridiculous. Either way, however - the thoughts and actions of Lesser Lord Kusanali are not important here, what is important is keeping those sharp objects out of the poor, terrified students' necks.

For that purpose, Neuvillette makes no sudden movements that could spook the already panicking Eremite further - although the glare he measures the man with does not hold back his contempt.

... What is that weird feeling behind his back? He frowns lightly at the sensation, but shelves the distracting thought for now, focusing entirely on the scene before him.

"D-Don't come a step closer, you hear?!"

The Iudex shrugs, crossing his arms. "I won't, but you know as well as I do that I don't need to, so your words change nothing about the situation you're in. I won't provoke you, but I won't let you harm them, either - nor will I listen to your demands as long as hostages are involved. Release them, and then we can talk."

The mercenary grits his teeth, a half-whine-half-groan passing through them, but doesn't move otherwise, save for his grip on the student's shoulder tightening, to the point where the young man has to hold back a yelp of pain. And just like that, they are locked in a standstill, with neither side willing to budge. The only question is, who will break first.

And the answer is the Eremite.

"You—"

But before the knife can move more than an inch, a burst of water erupts from beneath his feet, knocking him off-balance and causing him to let go of both the student and the knife; the younger man does not need to be told to seize the opportunity, scrambling with all the strength he still has left to run and hide behind the Iudex.

Neuvillette sighs, standing up straight again and leaning on his cane as the glow from it dissipates, watching the now knocked out opponent in front of him. Looks like the tables have shifted.

... All of a sudden, however, he winces and glances behind his back.

"You're distracting me."

The student, taken by surprise, shifts nervously. "Oh, sorry—"

"Hm?... Oh, my apologies. I didn't mean you." Turning around fully, Neuvillette narrows his eyes as he scans the area. "I know someone else is here. Whoever you are, please come out. This is not a good time to be sneaking up on me."

[arboriter]

And even a passing presence is a distraction to the most focused of individuals. The student’s wild gaze cannot see him any more than the now unconscious Eremite, even as he leaves his traces in the quickly fading wound on his neck- nicked once, but no more. Never to be noticed, now that its mark has all but disappeared.

His task finished, Su does not stay behind the other man for long- drifting over to the unconscious culprit, his companions, seeing the power that they faced, taking the moment of distraction- even if they did not know the source- to flee the scene.

The situation calmed, now, even if not dealt with most optimally, Su sees no reason to continue hiding. A flurry of golden leaves, that fade as quickly as they arrive, reveal his form, knelt beside the abandoned Eremite.

There were no external wounds to heal. Su stands, turning to face the man who had addressed him. The student gives a sound between a gasp and a squeak- clearly surprised at the very least, but perhaps more intimidated by the idea that there were more hidden figures about, whether hostile or friendly.

“…Sorry.” For his part, an echo of the student, in the visage of a man who could not have been much older. “I didn’t mean to disturb- you seemed to have the situation under control.”

[purerationality]

‧₊ ✧ reality and the universe ;

SU & DR. MEI.

[purerationality]

Listening to Su's silence, you suddenly sense the enormity of the distance between you and him. How much time has passed? Between your death and his now. You decide you aren't interested in asking, your gaze fixed on empty, unmoving space. When he finally speaks, that sense of distance does not dissolve. Rather, it intensifies with each mechanical word, each project's succinct name. You feel, acutely, as if he is both the friend and colleague you trusted beyond your death — and a complete and utter stranger.

His answer seems to say too much at once, overflowing with information, condensed into words that cannot bear the full weight of his meaning. His answer seems to say nothing at all.

You want to hear more; you want to know more. You want the overabundance of his answer to collapse in on itself and reveal everything in a torrential outpouring.

But distantly, you want to want what you should want: an end to this farce of a reunion, a real answer to what happened — without whatever this is. But as her shadow, unqualified to seize the faint slivers of her impossible humanity, that part of her lies outside of you.

“I see.” You acknowledge his answer — as sufficient, as a mission report. All the follow-up questions you can possibly ask coalesce in your mind with perfect clarity. How was Project: Regulator implemented? What happened to Kevin? Who was the member of the next era? What did breaking your physical limits entail? And so on. Variations of these questions, variations of your initial question. Then you think, even asking these questions — even enacting her clinical curiosity ... is an act of deception you have no right to perform. Even your first question — was already such a misdeed.

It's your turn to dwell in silence. Soft sounds of movement surround you as the swirling memoria churns restlessly. As if restless, the hallways ahead of and behind you twist apart, then back together. You look toward the shifting pieces ahead of you and, willing them to stillness once more, placidly ask, “Do you have any other questions for me?”

Why are you here, Su?

[arboriter]

The questions left answered only by his own mind and those he had resigned to never receiving a true response for both belong to the past that to voice them felt akin to unearthing something finally laid to rest- sacrilegious, at best.

How much had she planned for? And all that she had failed to say- was it intentional, or a reflection of haste? Their ending had been already written in the movements of their lives, and he does not blame her for actions already taken, nor the influence she wielded in death.

She gives him a terse reply, telling him nothing more of her thoughts. Perhaps anything that occurred after her passing was no longer of her concern- she had set actions that were always destined to pass into motion, but had no part in it herself.

A familiar notion- the very same that bound him.

He had done what he could, and yet, had not done it well enough. Something twists in his throat, even if now he had no need to breathe. Something shatters, and he acutely feels the difference between the two of them, in the sacrifices that he would never be able to condone, and the paths he would never walk.

And, he sees in her the reflection of what had always held true, that the easiest sacrifice to make was oneself.

"How are you here?" MEI, why are we here?

[purerationality]

𝖧𝖤𝖢𝖠𝖳𝖮𝖬𝖡 𝖥𝖮𝖱𝖬𝖴𝖫𝖠𝖤

𝗌𝗎 & 𝖽𝗋. 𝗆𝖾𝗂 — 𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗎.

[purerationality]

“Hey, did'ya hear Dr. MEI found a replacement for Professor Speirs?” “Already? Who's it going to be?” “Who d'ya think? It's gonna be that one student of his.” From the far end of the hallway, a modest distance away from Dr. MEI's office entrance, comes the muffled sound of aimless gossip between two nondescript MOTH operatives. They whisper loudly to each other without any real sense of subtlety, approaching Su without even realizing he's there, until —

One of them, the one on the left, nearly bumps into Su. She comes to an abrupt stop, yanked out of the conversation, and blinks at him for a moment. “Sorry, mister; I didn't see you there ... ” The one on the right, who already managed to walk ahead slightly, looks over his shoulder to see what's holding up his friend — then, frowning, takes a step closer as he scrutinizes Su's face. “Wait, aren't ya — ” His own face turns red as he stammers, breaking eye contact to look toward his friend instead, and he waves a hand for her to hurry up. “Chantilly, hurry up.”

Confused, Chantilly nevertheless picks up on her friend's sense of urgency, and offers something of a sheepish look toward Su, “Excuse me.” She moves past Su and catches up with her friend, before whispering somewhat audibly — “What was that about, Meridian?”

Meridian mumbles something in reply. “What?! That's him?!” Chantilly practically shouts, her face just as red as Meridian's, now — as Meridian hurriedly shushes her. She glances over her shoulder, praying that Su isn't looking in her direction, and Meridian's head turns to follow her gaze ...

Suddenly, the doors to Dr. MEI's office slide open with a faint noise. A woman with long, dark hair and glaring glasses emerges, her heels clicking against the unfeeling floor of the hallway. In the same instant, Meridian and Chantilly both turn quickly and begin to scurry off.

The woman doesn't acknowledge them, because there is no reason to. Instead, her gaze settles upon @arboriter. There are so many things she could say. Each possibility drifts into and out of her mind, but she does not dwell on them one by one. “My condolences for your loss,” she says in a plain, placid voice. “And thank you.” For accepting the appointment. For prevailing against grief. For allowing us to vanquish the 8th Herrscher.

Clipped to her chest is the expected ID card. The name emblazoned on it, next to a photo of her looking not much older than her high school days, reads MEI.

She steps to the side, slightly, and gestures with a hand, “Would you like to come in to talk, Su?”

[arboriter]

Even if they had been whispering, Su could still have heard them, clear as day. Lips part slightly, as if to correct a conversation he isn’t even meant to be privy to, in contrast to his newly shut gaze. At once far more aware of his surroundings than he had ever been, and too inexperienced to learn to navigate it well, he fails to move swiftly enough out of their path.

One of them recognizes him. He leans backward slightly, almost imperceptibly- but their body speaks just as loudly as their mouths, and Su knows in the way his heartrate spikes that he realizes what they had just done. Not that it mattered much, that almost every operative within the organization was his senior despite his new promotion- and that their words could not bother him more than the hand worrying the edge of a metal canteen, flicking flakes of red to the ground beside his feet.

Too small to be noticed, to be cleaned later by those who swept the floor- a trail leading back to the last time he had seen his mentor alive.

Ah. The other, Chantilly, has noticed as well. The door opens, and Su’s expression changes- barely, the small amount of confusion (or hesitance, the difference neglible, here) replaced with a firmer look- determination, perhaps, or simply the lack of anything at all.

“… ” 

She has changed, as well, he recognizes- though they had never been close, even in childhood. He cannot name how, nor does he question her regarding- what he knew was what he needed to know, and all else lay in distant obscurity. Untouchable, indiscernible, even to him. And he knows- something in his heart had shifted, but he could not quite name it.

“Thank you,” He says at last, because something must be said, “I am honored to do my part.”

His words ring hollow to his own ears- he is not lying, of course, but if only he had been faster, more observant, if only he had done more beyond simply his part in a grander plan than perhaps he would not be standing here at all, but back in a familiar lab, and this canteen with its proper owner-

Then, and only then, would he- could he feel something at their success other than this emptiness that he recognizes as swallowed grief. She extends an offer that he does not think to refuse, and veiled gaze briefly looks to the interior of her office- and finds it normal (and finds it empty).

"Yes, that would be…"

Necessary.

What a cold word. He enters her office without finishing his thought. Instead,

"Is it finalized- that I am to take over Professor Speirs' research?"

A confirmation of what he already knows well- a push of credit to someone long dead.

[arboriter]

plotting;

Su (you are here!): I'm not looking for much on Su, as he's good on threads, but if anyone from Teyvat is looking for a partner for the Chasm Quest, I'd be happy for him to tag along- or if you personally want Su for something, I'm always open to plot.

Dahlia (@choivenant):

Missing Fireworks: Dahlia's got a good nose for trouble and locating the fireworks is probably a piece of cake! But... you know... what if we just set one off? Just for fun!

Cat's Tail: Welp, another day another small dispute. Happy to keep this one lighthearted- maybe our muses chat while they deal with Prince's feline antics

As always, discord is your best bet for contacting me!

[hopetune]

I'm Nobody! Who are You?

Are you — Nobody — too?

[hopetune]

And so another day had ended.

Robin felt the exhaustion weigh heavy in her bones, leaden marrow leaving joints creaking and aching—but she bore the burden with a smile on her face, for she knew that the work she had done today had all come toward a good cause. All the hours she had spent carrying heaters back into homes, shoveling snow away from streets, singing for the children who had begged to hear her voice. It was tiring, and they were practically strangers to her, but it was not a waste. Never a waste. Though she had only come to know the people of Belobog briefly, they had captured her heart the same way those Destruction-ravaged planets dozens of light years away had. They were all part of the same melody, after all. All notes of the same song. She loved this measure as she did the rest.

Bundled tight in a coat and scarf, with her wings folded into her neck, the songstress made her way to the Goethe Hotel. She had heard tell of their famous tea and biscuits and knew she had to try. Though there was a small yearning for some company, especially as she passed through the crowded Administrative District. It was hard not to sigh. She was used to tea for two, after all. She pressed on, however, and made it to the steps of the hotel soon enough, where she turned the knob of the door and entered.

Bells rung softly. Robin unbuttoned her coat and searched for an empty table, finding one by the window overlooking the city proper. She made her way toward it eagerly, already picturing the fruit tea and biscuits she would have in her mind.

What a surprise it had been, then, for her to find someone already seated at the table. An unseeming man, dressed in attire she might describe as 'flowing.' He melted into the orange light of sunset, almost as if he were made of Light himself. His presence was a Quiet one—if people were Music and the world was Harmony, his song was surely one so strongly blended into the sound that one might mistake it for silence. But it was still there, still a part of their concert. So in lieu of finding a different seat, she decided to pull out the chair across him and seat herself onto it.

She smiled. Most good conversations began with a smile.

"I hope you don't mind me seating here. I'm just here for some tea. How about you?"

@arboriter

[arboriter]

Su occupied a seat as much as a thought could- in believing it was filled would it be filled, and should someone recognize that it was no more taken than any other empty space in the hotel, then would it be empty; the space once again left to the living and their joys rather than his reminiscence.

But even a shadow of a man was enough to keep those polite enough to leave it alone, and there were far brighter seats to be sooner occupied than to contend with him. In wake of their struggle, perhaps even a ghost was a common sight, even if they could not place where he had come from and if he had arrived at all.

And so, he observes- as he often did, as he always did- noticing the exhaustion that lined heavy limbs, how muscle and bone bore the weight of activity that promised no reward but what they could find themselves. Sometimes, his gaze drifts to the group of young friends, who had already begun planning the next day’s excursion; other, he listens to the quiet mutterings of those who had given all they had to give. 

He does not offer relief, nor does he address them, just as they do not acknowledge him- an outsider on all accounts.

Yet- someone takes the seat across from him, and smiles. A weight lines her expression, just as it did for everyone else, and his own untouched expression is a shame he wears in the bleeding edges of waning sunlight. Her acknowledgement pulls his flickering attention back to the one figure he had no interest in- himself.

“I don’t mind,” He responds to a melodic request, “I'm not expecting anyone.”

“... I’m just here to watch the people of the city," He adds, as if it were not the only thing occupying him- keeping him still anchored in the moment.

[arboriter]

snowhere

[arboriter]

So much for keeping back the Fragmentum, right? Any losers kind volunteers who would like to stay in Belobog (assuming you aren’t #@$%ing sick of it by now) are free to do so. Continue the fight that you’ve been on for the last week or so! Do what your teammates couldn’t and destroy the Fragmentum once and for all! Ask Donnie why she looks so familiar! Do whatever ya want, just come back to Belobog one last time. Please! starter for @virtuouslife

In the wake of Fragmentum monsters, even the snow- torn from its place into rivets and scars, stained some by blood and others by dirt- echoes the violence that had been enacted upon it. But it does not mourn this fact, still clinging to the boots of volunteers cleaning the remnants of the disasters, hoping to claim a few lives of its own.

Could wounds compare to the cold that seeps through even the thickest of layers? Numbness grew to pain and back again, starting from the feet and moving upward towards its true prize- the heart. It did not matter how great a warrior stood upon the ice, only that they were warm, and that warmth was to be shared with the world, until it may as well not exist at all.

Su has no warmth to steal, so he is left unimpeded by the snow. That cannot be said the same of others, and as a breath- a promise of spring that is no closer than before- he would leave them to their fates. If anything was unpreventable here it was the slowly encroaching chill that only grew worse the longer one stayed. There is nothing he can do here, but guilt towards one soul bids him to stay.

"Kallen, get up." An intangible finger stops just above her eyes, as if pressing on her temple. And from there, an artificial warmth, keeping blood flowing. "You need to get somewhere safer."

[vierfacheweisheiten]

Why Are You Me? I'm Me

Su & Anaxa

[vierfacheweisheiten]

“I’m not concerned with the living outside of my homeworld, that is true,” Anaxagoras cared not for what people beyond the false skies of Amphoreus thought of him, nor was he concerned with the lives that they lived. He loved the people of Amphoreus, sometimes despite himself, even if they did not always love him in return, “But the human spirit is something that will never be helpless. The soul is one part reason, two parts longing, and three parts passion. I can hardly call any of those traits ‘helpless’”

He sighs, knowing that he had never been upset with the circumstances of his death. Losses were a constant on the Flame-Chase Journey, even if he disagreed with the principle of the Flame-Chase to this very day. There was no reason to believe that they would all share the same destiny, but here he was, a loss like any other. Never enough. It’s never enough for the exchange that you have desired for so long.

“Can I not want for nothing more than to simply talk?” The scholar chuckles, “Either way, my life is not something that I have lost. Death holds as much meaning for me as my life had, perhaps more, considering the weight of the inspiration that I have gained from it. I have never been happier than I am now.”

[arboriter]

“Is that so?” Su responds evenly as always, though perhaps there was life breathed into his voice at curiosity piqued; the thought of quantifying the soul so easily was something he would never think to do, always preoccupied with the complexities of the spirit that none but themselves would see. Simpler than it sounded, more complex that the mere set of words attributed, and all the same…

Beautiful, dazzling, distant.

But here, he listens, carefully, folding the hope and thought presented into the image of the man named Anaxagoras, to remember who he speaks of, when thinking of himself, to learn of who he was, and to guess at who he will be.

And yet,

“There are much better people to speak with than me,” He continues, softly, “If death has been an inspiration, there is still something you seek- and the others will be better suited to recognize the purpose you have.”

[secondsovereign]

TO WE WHO WIELD THE STARS

Hello again old friend w/ @arboriter

[secondsovereign]

WHY HAD HE BEEN CALLED HERE, WHY HAD HE CALLED HIMSELF HERE? Perhaps he logs for the presence of another from their ever distant home world, or perhaps time has made it's own plans for him, far away from the life of the nameless and the endless self annihilation that hummed at the edges of his awareness. "The intertidal zone remains strong then... good." They still have time, and time is all that he needs to track down the mysterious source of corruption that had invaded Earth from the edges of deep space.

Knowledge... he has seen a great number of things in the interceding years, and yet where to start with the endless coiling fates that whisper out here in the dark. "A trade, then, whatever knowledge you can offer of our distant home in return for the knowledge of THEM." A fair offer, he thinks, especially when any news of their home will be enough to sate his consciousness for the foreseeable future.

In truth, the wealth of knowledge accumulated of late is... unique, of words hidden at the centre of wild and uncharted space, of species that live far longer than most humans ever shall dream of. It's odd in a way, Welt thinks, to come to terms with the idea of a species that will outlast the houkai that keeps him in a state of constant of genealogical stasis, content to watch the world move from the sidelines.

"Or perhaps you'd prefer a rather enlightening game of chess in your brief reprieve from wherever the depths of the sea have led you?" A simple and earnest question as he gestures towards the chairs that the herrscher hasn't quite been able to understand. "I have to admit, were it not for the fact the Express looks so similar to Cosmic Juggernaut, your presence here would have been far more... unexpected."

[arboriter]

Su hums, neither an acceptance or a rejection of the first offer laid before him. Curiosity was one rare force powerful enough to bid him to move, to seek rather than be sought, and to arrive rather than to be summoned- but not so much so that it could traverse the distances between the two with a mere few words. 

And so he remained distant.

So too, was his attention still split, studying, searching the walls of the Astral Express- yet for what, neither he nor any other could answer- the question less important than the results he had found, before he reforms once again into the semblance of thought, willing to speak but not beyond his means.

Closed eyes and a still figure do not react any more than they have before, but a shift- of something imperceptible, that was perceived nonetheless bids him to speak, to give a greater response than the quiet noncommittal answer he had given before.

“Chess, then,” An echo of a prior thought, of an experience he still knew, “And we will grant the victor the answer to one question.”

[arboriter]

reckless bra[V]ery

nier automata au.

[reachforthetruth]

“Operator 27O to 18B. I have a message to you from Command.”

Hours ago, a transmission entered the Android’s ears. A relay of a message, indicative of commands to follow through with a mission.

“Understood. YorHA Unit 18B is en route to the rendezvous point.” 

18B had already made her move, en route to the coordinates she was given. It was her first mission, and for that there was an element of uncertainty within her. Despite that, she obliged, prepared to follow every word. The travel was long, but 18B showed no signs of objection. She wasn’t someone keen on disobeying Command, regardless of her green status as a Battle Unit. 

Soon (not really, for even more hours passed), she spotted her destination in the distance, and a tuft of familiar silvery hair could be seen, though mayhaps 18B thought the tuft of hair was brighter. She was rather far away, after all. “18B to Operator 27O, I see the destination in the distance. What am I to do?”

For a moment, there is a pause, and 18B feels nervous, as though she asked the wrong question. Of course, that much doesn’t show, her countenance inscrutable beneath her blindfold. Maintaining a brave face (or voice?) was of the utmost importance, especially with how she stood as someone painfully new. Then, the voice of 27O welcomed her, and 18B let out a breath she held unto. “Meet with the scanner unit at the destination. Then, you both will be briefed on your mission.”

For a moment, 18B feels a tinge of disappointment. That’s it? She thinks, having expected more. She doesn’t voice this, instead giving an “Affirmative.” before continuing her path forward. 

Soon (actually soon, this time), she lands before the scanner unit she was tasked to work with. Getting a proper look at him now, she notices that his hair really is as gray as her own, and that he’s a decent bit taller than she was. She does not voice her interest in this fact, and instead bows. “YorHA Unit 18B here. You were tasked to work with me on my mission, correct? I apologize, for I have not gotten every detail on that matter yet. If I were to guess, it must be a sort of scouting mission, given my status as a new YorHA battle unit. It is nice to meet you.” 

[arboriter]

New doesn't begin to cover it, 7S watches her descent as he makes his way through the city streets, the initial streak through the air replaced with something less steady- almost uncertain. The flight units were only recently approved for usage, so even older models may have some difficultly controlling them, but they had more confidence in everything they did, especially if they were type-B. How recently was she manufactured?

Or repurposed, 7S corrects himself, even though there was nothing but the wind and his thoughts, but there isn't much of a difference between the two.

Though she begins her introduction immediately, he remains silent, studying her for signs of the new upgrades (wow, two weapons? Lucky. And the flight unit…) and marveling at the new tech finally brought over to his sector of the world.

"Oh, right," He gives her a quick salute. Even if she were newer, she was the leader of the mission here- that was the proper procedure, regardless of experience. "7S, reporting. Let me pull of the mission data for you, then…"

Half his attention on the holographic screens he pulls up, and half his attention on the new unit, 7S watches her for a reaction. If she's as new as she claims, she wouldn't have seen anyone do this on the field- if she's been on the field at all. Mumbling, "Let's see… seems we share an Operator too. That's unusual."

What was more unusual was his being paired with another unit, though, with another quick look over the details, it was far more understandable than he had initially suspected.

"Yes, you'd be right. The machine lifeforms have successfully infiltrated an old factory and repurposed it for mass-production. Since we don't know how long it's been active, it'll be easier for us to reach the center if there were two of us."

"But first- when was the last time you backed up your data?"

[arboriter]

plotting;

Su (you are here!):

[Needs Teyvat Muse] Black Raven: Quoth the Raven, nevermore. Let Su backpack you as he follows you throughout the adventures of Nod Kroi- while he can't help you with the dangers, he can warn you of them!

[Needs Teyvat Muse] Bandits: woaw... Kanoesa goes for another illusion quest for Su... hahaha. Nothing new here I just. I just like illusions.

Fragmentum: taken!

Dahlia (@choivenant):

Bandits: taken!

Black Raven: taken!

I FORGOT TO ADD. Please message me on discord (serenesforest) or respond in the notes of this post- I cannot guarantee I'll see tumblr DMs.

[arboriter]

[GUARD]

Another night, another moment spent acting as a guard for a place that hadn’t been home. Much like the night prior, it was quiet – nothing of note coming to mind whatsoever. In fact, Cerydra was more concerned about her partner for tonight’s shift; a translucent man with grayish hair stood at her side, eyes closed, seemingly focused. 

‘If a man were unable to interact with the world in its physical state, how would he fare as a guard?’ She carried greater concern for whether or not he would be able to put up a fight were it necessary, than if he could see, on account of his shut eyes. The Imperator made the assumption that by whatever means he carried, this translucent man was capable of sight – after all, if someone like Dux Goldweaver could see through her threads woven through Okhema, then Cerydra would not be one to automatically assume one lacks particular capabilities. 

In any case, standing and doing nothing like prior nights was bad for the Imperator. She needed to do something to keep her mind sharp, alert of her surroundings, rather than stand and say nothing for hours on end. To that point, Cerydra took out a chessboard that she had brought with her for this guard duty. She wished to ask whoever she was assigned with if they played. She was ready to explain the rules if necessary, but would welcome an opponent who already knew the rules.

“You,” she says, to the translucent man, making it abundantly clear where her words were directed, “do you play?” She begins to set up the board along a nearby log. “If not, I can teach you.” She pauses for a moment, considering something. “Don’t concern yourself with whether or not you can interact with the pieces. Just tell me your play, I’ll move them for you.”

With their main source of heat down, it is not long before the living grow sluggish. What little warmth is provided by the fires must be tended properly, but even those who chose to mind them cannot do so indefinitely. Or most, at least. Su remains by the fire for the time being, occasionally calling for another to provide more fuel. Sometimes, he is with company, sometimes without. 

It is the former, at the moment, though it did not make much difference. Accustomed to both sides choosing to mind their own thoughts, he does not expect much interaction from her- pleasantries, perhaps, when the night grew colder, but nothing more. She chooses to break the silence and address him, instead.

“Hm?” Su responds- his tone is polite, perhaps a little confused. Whether he had been paying attention or not he leaves up to interpretation as he turns himself to face her. “Me?”

A pause, studying the board. Familiar, even now; eyes linger on the queen, her king, the pieces. His first excuse is swiftly dispatched of, and so he nods, “I can play, but it’s been a while.”

She has already set the board, already chosen her side- he goes first. He chooses something standard, "Pawn to E4."