[DRAGON DANCE]⠀/⠀from a distance, he watches as the performing crew argues amongst each other, tempers running high from stress and urgency. it's understandable——they've been working hard on this very critical show and suddenly one of the most important members suffers a freak injury rendering him unable to perform at the last second. another's situation isn't too different, taking him out of the show as well. and now they're left shorthanded, but with a show that definitely couldn't be canceled, lest the spirit of lantern rite suffer an irredeemable blow.
in his line of work, these things happen too. quick fixes, emergency deadlines, sudden setbacks that seemingly can't hope to be recovered from. some of them have set him back too ; some have set the company back as a whole. but all of this, even failure here and there, is still better than the alternative: a stagnant, unchanging bottom line.
he smiles, two-toned gaze soft where it hides, as poorly as ever, behind colored lenses. in their frustrated chaos, rapidly descending to a hopelessness befitting nihility, he sees opportunity more comparable to some other path——whether that was preservation, or trailblaze, or even elation fell to the eye of the beholder. he sees a chance for great chance, unprecedented change——and not far away from him in another direction, a force that excelled at causing just that.
head tilts, rolling leisurely along neck until he can look the dark-haired woman's way. broody as ever, that impenetrable emanator, even when there were celebrations to be had and vicissitudes of life——supposedly——to enjoy. her expression barely changes, and she doesn't even show any sign of noticing him, so he'll have to be the one to break the ice. "how about it, friend? don't you happen to excel exactly in making the impossible, possible? with just one act. . . i'm sure you wouldn't have any problem turning their fortunes around."
In essence, the entire debacle unfolding before her is reminiscent of IX's outlook on the universe-- despite their best efforts and their hours of preparation, it's all for naught in the face of destiny interfering with their plans. While there are those who can effortlessly pluck at the threads of fate, these souls are not of that subset; and as such, they flail and fumble in a desperate attempt to mend the situation that seems hopeless.
Not unlike her own fight, she supposes. To rage against a being with no form, tainting all in THEIR Shadow in the same way that her existence had been. A strange, twisted since of "optimistic" nihility-- a living, breathing oxymoron. Though all is lost, what matters is the journey to the end; not its inevitability.
The dancers' hours of grueling practice have provided them with experience that cannot be replaced. Regardless of whether their performance succeeds, those moments-- though fleeting-- will remain etched in their souls as a fond memory of time spent together. Much like her time with companions from the past, and much like her time with Nameless girl who fearlessly ventured deep into the depths of IX.
Her reverie is not meant to last long, however, as a familiar voice breaks into her thoughts with little effort. The gambler who staked his life on mere chance has managed to find his way to her once again, and she sets her piercing gaze on his visage without hesitation-- he's nearly see-through, as he was before, filled with an emptiness he desperately chases to fill. Perhaps, with time, he'll find his purpose... and at the Horizon of Existence, Acheron believes that Aventurine has finally grasped the beginning of understanding his actuality in this universe.
Or she hopes, at least. As much as she can still hope.
"You overestimate my capabilities," Acheron huffs in her usual flat tone, one hand resting on her hip. "I wouldn't say that fortune bends in my favor."
A pause follows, her fingers tapping on the end of Naught's hilt. It's nearly hesitation that flashes across her features, head tilting slightly to make an attempt at judging her companion's goal. "The regrets they face are inevitable. You intend to make a fruitless gamble on whether or not I hold the ability to change their fate?"
Neither of them can escape what's been preordained for them. Yet it doesn't stop them from trying, and the human spirit has always been indomitable.
"Very well. I have one condition-- you accompany me. Your flair for the dramatic may serve this troupe well. All or nothing, correct?"