blog update excuse the silence here! i am & have been working on making a new blog for her, the ragbros, & a few of the harbingers that i will be writing. ( there’ll be a taglist available for every char for your blacklisting convenience. )
i don’t have a lot of energy or time & that means it’s slow going. but it’s going well! i’m putting in actual effort this time, so you understand... with 7 muses that cast page is a fucking pain in my ass-
Tis good thing not all of the tsaristsa thoughts were divulged to Pierro who would have such a epic fit if he heard, or even thought of the word calendars. Alas there is nothing he could do about his appearance, mostly well known throughout the region and closer neighbors.
“This kind of …ambition will be not weaponized. For lust is temporary and nothing more then a flickering flame to aid us.”
His tone held a bit of finality on this matter.
KHIONIYA “will it not?”
mirth, a clear chime that bounces off its own lining of steel.
“flickering flames are what creates opportunities between life and death. temporary aid is often invaluable.”
nonetheless, the calendar thing is shelved; ( not trashed- shelved. )
with an indulgent full body s t r e t c h, khioniya sighs. one of the hearths in the throne room washes heat into the place, rolls it across basalt yet warmed by the natural springs below. the rug before it details some historical event ( or bastardisation thereof ) & it is soon obstructed from view; a cosy enough place to sit. there are actual seats, of course, but those are for guests- as evidenced by their diminutive size.
with the lazy expression of a cat wondering if it’s silly human shall catch the hint anytime soon, khioniya nestles on the floor.
the question to follow is quite blunt-
“do you need a full mask?”
because surely it’s the face. oh, the class - the fashion that accompanies him, unlike so many who accompany it. & yes, the breadth of those shoulders---but surely, the face..?
KHIONIYA “i've faith you’re not responsible for the unbridled obscenities you inspire in others.
...unless you’ve been intentional.”
the whited out smooth of her voice is roughened, but barely, by the rare note of humour.
“shall this be how we keep civilian morale high?”
the absurd notion of calendars floats through the mind
& it’s a good thing her poker face is welded in place.
then, helpfully - tone nothing but thoughtful, “is it your facial hair, do you think? or your bone structure.
perhaps the doctor should be instructed to reforge our agents in your image. that sort of mindlessness seems like it can be corralled.”
i realise the fatui abandoned their own in the chasm &, well, perhaps the traveller will see consequences for la signora’s death in the updates to come but that’s not guaranteed, so despite there being only 3 shreds of canon tsaritsa-hints i am now officially canon-divergent :p
i don’t fucking like the whole abandons their own thing. that cicin mage in the chasm? who refused to leave her post, who would murder her own brother for deserting- i want that loyalty to be repaid goddammit. i want you to be able to say that the fatui are rotten bastards, but they have each other’s backs.
not all of them obviously there are plenty of individuals who jump out ( looking at you @pyrtui - & obv what looks to be most of the harbingers ). but i just want that to be the baseline vibe among the ranks, even if to very varying degrees.
what’s the point of a god without some divine protection?
yes you may die in a foreign land. likely.
but. they’ve been in the chasm for more than long enough. as soon as any word gets out that there are still some, who literally LOYALLY STUCK TO THEIR POST DESPITE IT MEANING A SLOW POINTLESS DEATH... i want her to be like aight fellas hold the fort i’ll brb & then carry her little ones outta the chasm in heR BIG STRONK BICEPS.
i mean not like that bc they’re big but not big enough for all of them & that’s wildly inefficient ppl are dying as we speak but u fucking get me right. no, she’s not usually at all available - there’s a reason you’re sent out to do your job. you’re capable of doing it & know the risks.
but... she had the operations in the chasm interrupted by the osial debacle. & i can imagine a “it wasn’t worth the cost to go get them” when it’s supposed to be other fatui going in some numbers into now hostile liyue AND the fucking chasm to scrape together a few starving people.
but personally when i get a new potted plant & it doesn’t do well & i’m like damn son ur not worth the effort & months later it’s still growing, dying & mangled but refusing to quit---YEAH THAT’S WHERE I’M LIKE AIGHT SON DAMN UR MINE NOW I APPRECIATE THE EFFORT I’LL ADD MINE. HERE WE GO ROLLS UP SLEEVES I AM NOW UR DEDICATED PLANT DADDY.
so.
i’m saying that lil cicin mage got out alright after everything even if many, many didn’t c’:
also i continue to stand by the traveller being bitch-slapped into another dimension. rosalyn shared her dream gdi.
@notnarvvhal asked --- BIG PUPPER EYES but he asks nothing. Will the queen acknowledge him today?
KHIONIYA of course.
the faintest hint of mirth plays along her lips. he is eager & innocent in her peripheral view-
the chill of her fingers chases the way gold gleams in reddish locks. a good little scritch, since he is her favourite, & a solid two pats that bear in mind the flimsy thing that is the human cranium.
so i’m saying every single harbinger can come up for a lil head pat. yes even you scaramouche you predictable little traitor <3 they fucking won’t of course. sighs.
i’m also saying that any traveller who murdered la signora has put themselves at the top of khioniya’s shit-list. which is really not a great place to be at when you’re looking to understand the politics in this world that your sibling is tangled up in :)))
taps the mic yah over here the harbingers are numbered based on order wherein they became one. they each have their own area of expertise, they’re all powerhouses, & childe has been indicated to be the most fearsome -- on the battlefield. i’m sure they’re all fucking insane in most departments, complimentary to each other while completely overwhelming anyone... well, more uh normal.
so while i’m sure childe didn’t outstrip la signora or scaramouche when it comes to political schemes, he is still more than capable of such schemes. the same is true in reverse with battle prowess.
childe’s comparative inferiority is mostly a matter of authority. he is the newest harbinger, least experienced with being one & what that all entails - what her majesty wants from him as such & in what ways. this will obviously be grown out of if he lives long enough.
the harbingers are each their own pillar of shneznayan society even when not from there / living in the country - as they are the core of the fatui’s operations, & the fatui is the fucking government. they are its power ( to do just about anything ). they are absolutely fucking insane & even though i wouldn’t trust most of them with matters that require genuine basic human decency ( i’m sure they can fake it, though )---they are the reason the fatui are able to back up such insistently invasive global operations.
while the tsaritsa does not necessarily agree with each individual’s principles or even their personalities, she cannot- & will not -understate how it is them who allow her to act on her own principles & make more of her character than wishful, agonised thought.
yes, she’s a whole fucking god & archon & by no means powerless. but there’s being a god, & there’s being an archon - & there’s being allowed to use unfathomably mortal competence to actually make something of that position. a leader is only such when followed. while each harbinger has their own agenda & so far i am only confident of signora & childe’s genuine investment in the tsaritsa’s dream... it is their whim that allows her to make such strides while safeguarding her own people.
like one is the power to wipe out a bunch of really magnificent mortals bc they decided they want All The Power & the other is the joint teamwork required to support a whole country so adequately that it stands tall despite all the challenges involved & her active intent to go to war with the heavens. you literally cannot run or nourish a country on your own.
what i find admirable about her is that she fucking wrangles all of these maniacs despite their differences & very strong personalities :eyes: she’s an incredible leader no doubt...
& she is... at least in one way, fond of every single person who works to make her dreams a reality - no matter what they actually seek to do ( to it & her as well ) along the way. she’s quite confident she can handle their bullshit + hey man it’s always worth the shot lmfaooo.
anyway that’s my essay i’m a WHORE for the villainous tenderness of fucking. making smn’s dreams come true. shut up the fatui is basically the tsaritsa crying about how sad she is & going “let’s be able to murder literal God” & then absolute madlads going “yes actually sounds profitable to me personally” & then they just go hAM. they don’t try to help her but they do help her & that’s very fucking sexy of the whole situation.
she’s very tender towards them for this reason... no matter how some of them wrinkle their nose at the sentiment, heh.
picks him up by the scruff. he is lifted a good few feet into the air & there shaken, lightly but firmly.
hm. very well.
he is set back down. a soft pouch of assorted snacks is pressed into his pocket - light again, firm again. they are all the ones he favours; a tiny amount of each all the better to be savoured.
pat, pat.
-glacialmarch being a whole grandma in addition to a ma
Heart stammers inside its cage in anticipation for a scold that's warranted only in the realm of his anxieties; legs dangle, neck sinks into the thickness of the fur of his own vests and engulfs him so far as to almost frame his face. He's not a guilty one, not from any transgression he can remember being the perpetrator of, but if he might be retroactively held accountable for— oh, snacks!
A small bag of salt and vinegar chips is the first to see the world outside the Pouch of Treat Yourself, Childe wastes no time opening it and fitting two chips between his fingers, from which he eats. ‘ Thank you, Khioniya. ʼ Audible and a tad on the muffled side as he basks in the crispy noise of his chewing. The bag is offered her way, Snezhnayan words politely directed as well in his characteristic Morepesok accent. ‘ Do you want some, too? ʼ / @glacialmarch
ooc quarterly reminder that i’m on the dash pretty often & i read y’alls shenanigans... i just have very little writing juice & some real life things beating my ass.
i’ve never been on hiatus, but i’m just not visibily active :joy: if anybody wants to yell about our babies in the IMs, that’s easier!
i haven’t even dropped any threads, i’m just that fucking slow.
KHIONIYA it aches. ( of course it does. you knew better. ) capability equals responsibility; a harbinger's return to the nest is a matter of touch & go. she makes it so.
pale fingers thread through copper that gleams gold. "wait." she & the gears of the world that turn in perpetuum.
it is the only part of him looked at closely; beautiful hair that has changed the least over the years. that little body has grown to be taller ( still little to her ) - yet more is expected of it. a thing to be nurtured, cradled gently in her palm- sent out to war.
it bleeds so easily. & that is not all:
it freezes easily, tears easily, drowns easily, starves easily, loses & loses & loses parts of itself so easily-
why then is it so hard for her to part with any piece of him?
"jashenka." they are so much less weak. he throws himself into the maelstrom where no certainty exists except loss. he, little one- the littlest thing / reared by her.
for war.
( for love. )
for the love that goes to war, & now she wishes she'd kept him all to herself; a child as it should have been.
that oversight feels like such folly now even though it were the last real part of that old conviction. the only one that will-( would )-not waver.
the world is white, outside. it is also the world: where jashenka- what her people stalk into to be killed by.
( & he is stronger than most; & she is weaker than most. will he stop loving her, if it proves he'll have to make her keep this promise? little boy. & he'll do it, too. )
she wishes to turn away from the windows. from that finality that breeds anxiety - "come," but it is huskier than a command. something thickens her voice & begs to be forgiven for that- "just for a little while longer."
minutes are little lifetimes when spent with mortals. it's a quiet truth that can pin her to a single moment / root her to a spot so small that when it encompasses her entirely, she gets to select exactly what becomes the whole world instead. would that he'd let her have a few more, instead of striding so readily toward the doom she spells out for him.
how vain it is to weaken like this
when she has already made him promise.
at this point if i don’t make it backstory that she lost her own child, all this won’t be a coherent StoryTM.
the whole Wound* thing... had to ice herself in/out because of the loss of a child & is disastrously thawing bc of the acquisition of a new one stares down littol jashenka.
she was going to do a big deity-sized protecc to ensure at least one short age of safety & prosperity for All children ( & humans die so quickly to her they’re. basically children all throughout their lives! )... but now she has Her child & no matter how strongly she sticks to it being necessary to do the Big Protecc at all cost...
ayaks comes first regardless. she is incapable of not sticking to anything that is so intimately hers to nurture. it’s why she iced herself in/out! she knows herself; it wasn’t only grief. realised in that state she could really do something, make herself make it happen - & this fucking orphan came into the palm of her hand & now he’s his & that means she’s hers & nothing is more important to a mother than the future of their own child.
( grabs @11fatui by the collar )
me: oooh big giant lady hot sexy wanna ship with her
this fucking blog: No. Wholesome Trauma Mama Only.
my whore ass is suffering but it is also super cute help me.
*Wound thing under the cut for reference:
i like the intensity of a cocktail of emotion. anything that allows for catharsis & that peak of finally in communication between characters - especially when it is not simply verbal.
especially when they have been trying for ages to communicate these things.
--& have been talking past each other unawares.
i like when characters are not directly related to my muse’s Wound ( or vice versa, my char to your muse’s ), & yet pluck it out into the open by pointing out all the ways that it could be, if ever it could heal into that shape. make them long, want, wonder - make them choose the reckless will for pleasure over the safety of misery.
& fail.
& try the fuck again, because fuck you that’s why.
tender things, especially where it is hard. i want them each crawling out of their constricting cocoon of safety: the masks they were that make it impossible to breathe. to be. i want peace & i want it to be hard-won.
i want layers upon layers of shit, i want complicated characters. i want no saints & no pure demons; i want gross humans being disgusting but fascinating, & i want them to bare themselves to each other. i want honesty - amid the bullshit that tries to protect it.
loneliness, suicidal ideation, otherness, the sweet tenderness of us against the world / outcasts who fit together like perfect puzzle pieces.
intricate tragedies that you can’t brush off because they’re obviously just for shock value. things to tightly entwined with the progress of the story & development of chars & dynamics, & the story that can only flow from those - & the bitter misery of watching it all go to shit because that’s the only way this could go. this is the end to that story, this is how it SHOULD end. & you hate it for it. but any less, & you wouldn’t have cared nearly as badly.
khioniya gathering all the gnoses so she can give everyone(?) a vision so they can defend themselves in the war...
buuuut... i mean if it’s celestia’s power they can prob just stop it so thmmmdmm nvm.
"..." there is a tiny bit of parchment unfurled on a thigh so large it could seat a grown man comfortably.
...that grown man is in the process of recognising the handwriting that details lines of frustrated 'anguish', despite the letter being upside down for him.
"...he can't read them." it is a quiet, solid insistence.
glacialmarch.
Standing there in waiting silence, anticipation creaks and buzzes in his ears. Childe wants to know what's been said, slightly tilting his head to better make sense of the words then quickly pushing the impulse back into the confines of his mind. Like he's showing his guardian a report card with more grades below A+ than allowed. And when the verdict is in, Khioniya's frustration is mirrored, her words echoed with harrowing awareness. ‘ ...He really can't read them. ʼ