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@harpguitarsiren
"... How do I look?"
"Oh!"
"You look very, very nice! I didn't even think you owned a suit. Is it new?" she started straightening his tie happily. "What's the occasion anyway? Is it your birthday? *gasp* Is it? Why didn't you tell me?!"
Put "How do I look?" in my ask for my character's reaction to your muse appearing in a elegant dress or fancy tux
Relationship Headcanons
Send my muse one (or more) of the following symbols for a headcanon about their relationship with that person
â for a mother headcanonÂ
â for a father headcanon
â for a sister headcanon
ĎÂ for a brother headcanon
âšÂ for a best friend headcanon
â˛Â for an enemy headcanon
âťÂ for an old best friend headcanon
â¤Â for a grandparents headcanon
â for a favorite teacher headcanon
â for a boy/girlfriend headcanon
⎠for a self headcanon
â for an ex headcanonÂ
Music Tames the Beast (open)
"Zia.." He nodded faintly while repeating the name, committing it to memory. Then again, it wasnât exactly a difficult one to keep in mind, was it. He also cast the dragon a glance, unsurprised that it seemed unhappy at his presence. The creatures seemed to be more anxious about this whole war business than anyone else, so far at least.
Cerise even seemed to bristle, but quietly. Enough that he paid it no mind.
"Iâve only arrived a few days ago, Iâm afraid." Dorian heaved a quiet sigh, glancing around their surroundings. The atmosphere was⌠difficult to read, throughout the city. He still didnât know what to make of it.
"âŚI canât be sure, but I think you may be right. Something about it all⌠feels tired, almost."
"Ah, same here... I haven't been here long. Just long enough to piece some of what's happening together and find my living space,"Â gal replied sighing. This place was a mess, She didn't feel any better off here than back home. True, most people were just ashes back there, But that meant no wars and a lot more peace... even if it was lonely.
 "Yeah.. I just hope we aren't for as long as it feels it might be. At least not under the same circumstances of war and fear. I've had quite enough of both."
Mother, I'm here | Zia
There was a searing pain in his tailbone, and one of his wings felt wrong, but heâd taken worse tumbles in the past. Dark Pit struggled up to his feet in spite of the discomfort, rolling his shoulders as he looked at the woman head-on for the first time. The annoyance he felt over being inconvenienced suddenly evaporated once he noticed that she was crying; his red eyes averted, and he rubbed at his neck, suddenly feeling awkward.
"Donât mention it," he muttered, expertly dodging eye contact. His left wing was hanging â he could feel it sag like a wet towel â so there would be no flapping his way out of this exchange. "Do you⌠I meanâŚ" Goddesses, how do humans put up with this talking stuff? â⌠Whatâs the deal with, uhâŚâ He gestured at her vaguely.
Nailed it.
One of his wings was hurt. It was easy enough for the gal to note even through her waterin' eyes. That was her fault too she reckoned. Seems like she had a lot to answer to the gods for. Gods always were kinda fickle on mercy though.
"I... I'm not sure. I was heading back to my faction when... when I saw..." her voice trailed off, "Things that weren't there. And then I.. I.. just couldn't... not with all I've done. I... I'm sorry I can't-" Her voice cracked and  the weeping starting again. Zia knew she must've looked a mess. She wouldn't blame him for running off. She wouldn't blame anyone for anything anymore.
'Ventually she calmed down enough to start talking again.
"You ended up hurt because of me too. P-please let me make it up to you somehow?"
My muse is furious, how does yours calm them down?
Lucky? Maybe thatâs a good way of putting it. Heâs still not sure why he felt the need to intervene; perhaps it really was a stroke of good luck on her part.
"Yeah⌠But try not to make a habit of needing my help," he grumbles in response. Itâs an expression of concern on his part, whether heâs able to recognize it or not.
Gal lets out a small chuckle, tinged with nervousness.
"I'll try not to; I promise. Besides I have Micia here too so.."
"⌠Itâs fine."
He tucks both wings at his back and looks away sharply. Receiving concern for his well-being is atypical for him, so heâs unsure of how to react.
"Theyâre built to last, just like the rest of me."
"Oh... good then," gal answered smilin' a little. Zia's had some practice with the quiet tough types, even the brooding ones if you count zulf. The only thing that throws her off is the wings. Angels don't exist anywhere in our lore, so a man with wings rings no bells. Its just odd.
She's quite alright with odd though.
"And lucky for me that you were!"
Dark Pit has never been the gentlest of sorts. He nudges the slumbering Zia firmly, his brow clouded with annoyance. "Get up. You're sleeping on my wing."
She stirs slowly before blinkin' and joltin' upright, lookin' mighty embarrassed at having dozed off.
"Sorry! Is...is your wing ok?"Â Figures she was still worried about it after everything that had happened.
My muse has fallen asleep on yours during a movie. How does your muse wake them?
Reblog if you want a bunch of âhave you eversâ and âwould you rathersâ in your ask box right now.
Mother, I'm here | Zia
Alright, so this definitely wasnât the best idea heâd ever had.
The falling girl â who was now dead weight in his arms, thanks to his quick reaction time â turned to look at him as they fell. Seeing as there wasnât much else he could do, he decided to give her the barest hint of a smile, just in case she was lucid enough to see it. The dark teal of his wings flapped wildly at his back, unable to compensate for the added weight of another person.
ăItâs going to hurt when you land,ă his dragonelle emitted in a matter-of-fact tone, abandoning her post on his shoulders in favor of flying to safety on her own. He was tempted to offer a smart-alecky retort, but he was a little too distracted by his flailing attempt at slowing their fall, hoping that some extra oomph might prevent him from cracking like an egg once they hit the ground.
It wasnât particularly working.
"Ah, shit," he hissed under his breath, his eyes preemptively squeezing shut just before he â
Whump.
He came to a good half a minute after the fact, pinpricks of stimuli flooding back into his vision. Immediately he sat upright, hoping against hope that his mysterious lady-cargo hadnât wriggled out of his grasp and run off in the time it took him to wake up.
Luckily for both of em, staying around the bastion made people tough about falls. Though it was still true that she'd have gone on to see the mother from her original height, thanks to a certain intervention it just turned out a little rougher than most. Gal managed to recover quickly, or at least quicker than her savior.
It was obvious now that this fella wasn't Olak. Despite the visions she was still seeing, she could tell that the garments were different as was, well, the wings. Olak was as carefree as the wind, and some said he could bend it, but he certainly never had wings.
Tears still fell as Zia tried to look over the fella. He'd taken the brunt of the landin' after all. Ended up taking her scarf off so his head could be propped up after laying him down on his back. Didn't last long, he woke up a second after she moved him.
Zia just sat there staring at him, sometimes through him, wonderin' what to say. Â She was glad he'd stepped in but the grief and sadness still stung as much as before.
"Thank you," she settled on, saying the words quietly, "I'm sorry about the fall."
Drawing a little random stuff. Zia from Bastion.
a teraz zia, gram jeszcze raz tym razem uratujÄ stary Ĺwiat
Mother, I'm here | Zia
Somehow, the powers of the goddesses could reach him in this far-off realm.
Dark Pit wasnât about to complain. Traveling without the Power of Flight, even if it only lasted for five minutes on a good day, was a complete bastard; of course, relying on Palutena and Viridi felt like having a popcorn kernel stuck in his gums, but at least he didnât have to hear them gloating in his head as he flew. So long as he could reach far-off places with relative ease (and he didnât have to hear any divine beings bicker in the process,) he was content.
Presently he was using the aforementioned power to glide into Neutral territory, his dark red eyes searching for any evidence of these mysterious trial flowers. He wasnât near enough to the Pool of Stars to see them, but something else caught his eye instead: A lone woman standing on top of a building. In the time it took him to process the oddity, she was falling â no, plummeting towards the ground below.
He wasnât exactly sure what inspired him to give chase, but he was speeding towards her before he could stop himself, the soft glow around his wings switching from a lazy red to a vibrant blue. Grabbing her would surely damage her body in this free-falling state, so he settled for the next best thing, positioning himself beneath her with his arms outstretched in the hopes of breaking her fall.
Of course, they would both end up crashing to the ground if he succeeded in grabbing onto her, but he would have plenty of time to think about that later.
She came to quarter of the way down. Wasn't no wave of panic. Gal didn't scream. She just watched as the sky flew further away and shed some silent tears. Her dragon flew down after her and tried to slow her descent, but paused at the sad thoughts over flowin' out her new master.
And so she fell.
Until some kid with wings caught her that is.
It was hard to register when all you felt was sadness and fatigue, but she felt somethin' catch her. She rolled her head over to look at him. Looked kinda weird, but almost like... Olak.
Odd that the god of chance and whim she rarely prayed to was saving her life, but Zia wasn't gunna question it. She was pretty sure she was seein' things anyway.
Mother, I'm here {Flower Fiasco
{mood music x}
The task seemed harmless enough, especially when the flowers grew right in her faction. Pick one and take it to an altar. She was just grateful it didn't involve direct conflict with the other groups. Flowers were fine. Flowers rarely hurt anyone.
At least, normally they didn't.
send a â followed by a command, and my muse will respond to it
