#ORDERGUIDED — indie, non selective, && multiverse SUNDAY OAK from hsr. canon divergent. OC, multi, && duplicate friendly. written by lyre. also check out my multimuse; @timewxven ! this is a sideblog, and i follow back from a personal main.
EXPLORING: helplessness, guilt, the act of being the sacrificial lamb, voluntary altruism, the sisyphean task of existence, burning away your emotions in an attempt to light the world, becoming the scorching sun, daybreak and a new journey upon the horizon.
“ ack!- ” get thwapped, loser. a few feathers fly loose. wonweek blinks owlishly for a moment, before picking it up and throwing it back at - wherever it came from. he huffs. “ more of where that came from, y'know. ” local bird has not had a pillow fight in over a decade. from what he remembers, they were fun.
sunday feels like a child that has been left to hold their mother's place in the line at the grocery store, only to realise that said line is getting shorter and shorter, the mother is nowhere to be seen and the child cannot pay.
in other words – march 7th just disappeared on him, in the middle of astropolis's biggest shopping centre, and there are at least fifteen members of the ipc around him he can see just from the logos on their uniforms. it's not even dread he feels any more. just a bit of “ shit, ” with a small hint of “ fuck my life. ”
so he does what any sane person would do, and ducks into the nearest store. clothing store. it's all flashy, green-and-gold and expensive. the sort of thing he doesn't have the money first anymore.
anyway – that's not the biggest concern to him right now. not after he realises all of this is violently out of his price range, turns to leave and makes direct, humiliating eye contact with flashy, green-and-gold and expensive aventurine of stupid fucking stratagems, who is standing less than a metre away from him. fuck his stupid chud life!! whatever. he's changing his identity. call him terrence from now on.
— @orderguided
Despite the fact that this was technically a vacation, Aventurine had spent a rather large portion of it filming photoshoots and advertisements. Granted, the workload was atleast lesser than usual. Better a professional team than paparazzi attempting to take pictures of him.
He was being followed by no small amount of bodyguards, though they kept just enough distance to be subtle. Aventurine would be a fool if he didn't expect danger. There would always be those who loathed him for the perceived meaning behind the colour of his eyes alone. But that was the type of danger he had grown accustomed to, grown to expect. The kind he didn't, was a rather notorious fugitive standing barely out of arm's reach. At the very least, he could rule out the possibility of this meeting being premeditated as Sunday's face seemed to reflect the surprise he felt.
Once the initial shock wore off, Aventurine could only scold himself for his brief moment of surprise. After the Fulwish incident in Planarcadia, Sunday had become rather publically associated with the express. And if they were here, it was only natural that he would be too ...Aaandd they've been standing here staring for a rather awkward amount of time.
Well, there was no pretending not to notice him now, was there? Aventurine shifted his hand, seemingly adjusting his glove. It was a practiced motion, a rather reflexive move as he prepared to activate his shield. Did he think Sunday was going to attack him here and now? Certainly not. It would be a horrible idea and the halovian was much too smart for that. That little fact offered enough reassurance for him to approach Sunday with his signature smile on his face,
"Well its certainly been a while, my friend." Friend may have been a stretch at best but if it was true that Sunday had become a nameless of all things- amiability would be best.
it's a far cry from the well-spoken sunday back in penacony. this one is twitchy, fiddling with his own hands and eyes flicking side to side. even his wings move slightly to shield his face, as if that will help him.
he chews on his lip. right. right, okay. maybe terrence doesn't work. it's too fancy for the cave he's going to be living in from now on. he wonders if he should choose jed or dan. “ i believe it has been, ” terrence-jed-dan says instead. “ ah. apologies. ” this is not the time for long sentences. “ am i blocking your way? ”
run make excuses avoid leave. this is sooo fucking awkward. what the hell what the hell what the hell. he's not even allowed to swear this is meant to be a pg game. “ sorry, ” he says again. god, this place is so aventurine-core that no matter where he looks, it's like he's staring right at him. “ ...is this place ipc-sponsored? or– something of the sort? ” twitch twitch. his wings. “ it looks very... ” slight wave of his hand. he's suddenly very aware of march's 3 heavy shopping bags hanging there. “ –you. ”
Were it anybody else, it would have been amusing. Or perhaps even endearing. And to some extent, it could still be seen that way. But the emphasis happened to be on 'to some extent' when factoring in their shared history.
After leaving Sigonia, studying people to glean information had quickly become second nature. All those foreign people in their foreign clothes and languages... it had overwhelmed him at first but he soon learnt to gauge a person's standing and details of their personality through their appearance. It was only natural then, that even without Sunday acting as flighty as he was, Aventurine would notice the difference. His outfit was much looser, still far neater than most people and adhering to his rules of neatness but still striking Aventurine as far less... uptight.
"Ah no, no, you aren't in the way. Besides, you seem to be one of the esteemed guests from the Astral Express now. It would be rude to stop you from enjoying everything Astropolis has to offer, wouldn't it?"
"It is" Aventurine nodded "As are all commercial businesses in Astropolis." The comparison to his own dressing style caused his lips to twitch upwards further. "It does, doesn't it? I had no personal hand in it, it just happens to be my style."
outfit neat, but not neat enough. not colour-coordinated. it's stupid. he should have grown out of that kind of thing by now, should have left it behind. (he has not. it's not smart enough, not really. not enough to make him 'relax'. as if that would help.) though he does look more - lax, maybe, with the way his arms hang by his sides rather than the shoulders back, one hand on the small of his back routine he always had going on. he got used to the aches in his shoulder. it'd be so funny if he had one slightly stronger shoulder just because he stands in a really dumb way. to me specifically.
sunday blinks again. hopes aventurine didn't look at his outfit much back in penacony. if he's lucky, nobody will draw attention to the fact that he's lowk missing a limb or two. (he's not lucky, not really.) oh, right - he's being talked to. “ it is nothing- official, strictly speaking. i am a guest. ” he speaks like it's practised. “ apparently, their generosity knows no bounds. even to people like me. ” there's a sort of underlying hatred in his voice. he hides it well, mostly. “ and logically speaking, it would most likely be best if i was not in a place so full of the ipc, but... ” he shrugs. “ i was also not given a choice, ” he continues, slightly wryly.
aeons. all of them? sounds like a pain to manage. he wonders whose job that is. “ if it hasn't been like this for a long time, perhaps it's not a coincidence, ” sunday suggests. “ after all - i'm sure there are people who follow your sense of style, or are enthusiastic about celebrity fashion. ” like that time for a little while where it became fashionable to wear fake halovian wings because of robin, before someone came out and was like "hey that's lowk cultural appropriation adjacent" (it's 4am please forgive terms i half forgot what they mean) and then suddenly people stopped talking about that real fast.
he glances inside one of march's shopping bags. there's robin merch. sunday smiles, slightly.
Loki knocked on the door to Sunday's hotel room before taking a few steps back, leaning against the wall while she waited for the door to open. Having decided on a spontaneous shopping trip today, she decided to take Sunday along. After all, surely the 'meager' funds she had given the halovian couldn't still be enough?
She also felt that shopping for a house would be ideal. After all, the room in Hotel Debord couldn't be treated like an apartment for the long term.
She waved a hand, shards of cryo forming into a makeshift mirror with jagged edges. Loki absently toyed with her hair and lipstick as she waited.
— @trxgicfxrce
oh fuck, it's a visitor. he looks atrocious.
this is, safe to say, an exaggeration. his hair is slightly messy from his constantly running his hands through it, and he can't find a suitable pair of gloves anywhere, so he pulls on a pair that he had intended to wash today (eugh) and opens the door, and–
ah, fuck. she's — uh oh — unreasonably attractive. this is unfair. he clenches his jaw just slightly (in case he was making some stupid expression). “ ah. ” intelligent!! how eloquent of you. “ um. hello, ” he says, with his usual slight smile. she's fine. what the hell. what the fuuuuck.
Loki met his smile with one of her own, tossing her mirror aside carelessly. It dissipated the second it left her hands, leaving behind only faint elemental residue.
"Hello" she returned the greeting, smile widening a tad at the difference in his demeanor. "Its a lovely day, no? If you aren't too busy, I was thinking of inviting you along with me. Nothing too flashy, just a quick shopping trip." admittedly her trips were hardly ever 'quick' but that was irrelevant.
sunday straightens up properly, hands folded behind his back — mostly to hide his annoyingly wrinkly gloves. (there's a single crease in the palm of the left one. how dare it exist.) “ hm– who am i to refuse? i would be honoured. ” this is still unfair, he thinks, just about managing not slipping over the words. not that it wouldn't be noticeable if you were perceptive.
which, of course, she is. fucking aeons. “ a spontaneous one, i assume? ” he tilts his head to the side. “ would you mind if i changed quickly first? i do fear these aren't quite clean enough. ”
"Honoured? I'm flattered but you needn't be, this is only me extending an invitation to a good friend" Loki shook her head slightly. "Unless you want to call it a date, which is fine by me too." She was joking. Mostly. Not entirely. She wouldn't be upset if it did happen to turn into one.
"Indeed. Its why I failed to give you any notice in advance before showing up at your doorstep- my apologies for that. I'm afraid the spontaneous label also applies to nearly everything I do."
"Ofcourse, ofcourse. Please, take all the time you need. I am the one who dropped by so abruptly, after all"
“ but surely i can be honoured all the same? ” intense bird vibes coming off this guy rn. one or his wings twitches slightly. ah. ah. what– exactly is he meant to say to that? c'mon, sunday, blink. that's a thing people have to do. “ whatever you wish, ” he says cheerfully instead. which is probably vague enough to mean nothing at all.
he shakes his head. “ ah, no worries. i've never got my schedule particularly packed anyway. ” once upon a time, he'd have cared a lot more about edits to his schedule. stelle was spontaneous enough to mostly shock him out of that.
with a quick nod, he disappears back into his room for a moment and returns wearing something a little more presentable. (black blouse, cream trousers – high waisted. most of his nice clothes are in the wash. “ i'm ready, ” he calls out, quickly enough.
"If you want to be, I can't stop you. But I still think its rather unnecessary" Loki bit her tounge against a chuckle at his reaction. She briefly contemplated pushing it a little, just to see what Sunday might do but dropped that idea. It had the potential to sour their shopping trip and that wouldn't be a very good move on her part.
"Thats good then. All work would make for such a dull day, wouldn't it" Loki pulled a face. Not that she consistently did her work either way.
"Then we can set off. Is there any particular place you wish to visit first? Or items you might want?"
“ ah, well, ” he shrugs. “ it wouldn't be a new experience. but you are right, i believe. it's not particularly entertaining working constantly. starts to fray your nerves a little. ” sunday frames it like a joke, with a sigh and a shake of his head.
places?... uh. another i'm not sure is probably obnoxious, he supposes. it's not like it's contributing much. “ ...clothes, perhaps? ” pause. “ perhaps i have just identified the biggest job at the very start. i'm not sure what i really need, though – if there's anything you particularly want, i'd always be happy to do that instead. ” he shrugs.
"A little?" Loki snorted "You kidding? I'm already done month if they make me sit behind a desk with papers for an hour. I mean its more tolerable if its a diplomatic meeting because somebody else is there to keep things fun enough."
Loki flicked his forehead lightly "No, silly, I asked where you wanted to go. If i already had some place in mind then I'd be taking you there, not asking where you'd like to go."
"Besides, while we're on the topic of clothes, there is one very important fact you should know about me..." ominous pause. Loki briefly leaned in like she was going to tell him some important secret but then moved away just as quickly to chirpily announce "I'm never turning down the opportunity to go clothes shopping. As in never ever. Seriously there's nothing better to shop for- well actually no, gold and wine is really great too..." Loki muttered the last part to herself, putting a finger to her chin in thought.
“ i do fear i can't stand diplomatic meetings, ” he admits. “ the ones i've been in, at least. they go on so long, and everyone's three seconds from insulting each other at all times but they can't do so for – ” air quotes – “ political reasons, so they're just obnoxiously polite instead. they drag on so. ” pause. “ i suspect we've had different experiences with diplomatic meetings. ”
he attempts to look at his own forehead. it doesn't go very well, but it's a little endearing at least. “ shopping enthusiast, perhaps? ” he asks dryly. “ i don't go shopping often; only really when someone takes me out, ” like robin or march. usually he's left carrying the bags. “ well – there's no need to pick a favourite if you can just do them all, right? ” sunday raises an eyebrow. “ and you know these streets better than i do, so i won't complain at anything. ” as if ever does. it's a good day, though. he's barely leaning on the cane.
"Oh no, no, we have the same experience in diplomatic meetings here" Loki shook her head with a slight laugh "They become much more enjoyable when you think of it like a sort of game. Puzzling out other people, picking the right things to say or wear... its like a chess game with higher stakes but off the board! And if you mess up, in tne worst case scenario you can simply wait till the next generation and try—" Loki cut herself off "Ah wait... thats likely not an option for you."
"Perhaps might be a bit of an understatement" Loki agreed. "If I don't have anything else to do with the money, why shouldn't I ensure I shine above the rest? Besides, there's not a chance in hell I'm going to be caught repeating the same outfits with the same accessories and styling." Also overconsumption might be a major coping mechanism but she was ignoring that aspect.
"You are allowed to complain if you have any grievances you know" Loki thought of the day she found him slumped on a bench. Well slump might have been an overstatment considering his consistently perfect posture but it was a slump in spirit. "I don't mind stopping or slowing down if you want."
“ i see. ” in writing it sounds like a dead response, but sunday says it with a lilt to his voice and a slight hum that says he's thinking about what she said. “ to be honest, ” he continues with a shrug, “ i've never really thought about it that way. it's always been more of a tightrope for me; move too far either way and you'll be left to crash and fall. ” blink blink. “ ah - ” with a light laugh, “ no, not particularly an option. i've always found it frustrating to be so very careful. everyone disagrees with each other, but - ” wave of his hands here - “ politely. infuriating, ” he says, like he wasn't part of the passive-aggressive problem.
it's ok in this city we #ignoretheproblems and focus on the important bits. like being blingy!! he chuckles. “ fair enough. if you have the means, then why not? ” he shrugs. “ repeating outfits is ever so tedious. admittedly, i do have multiple outfits that are similar - but i do try not to wear the same things repeatedly. if worst comes to worst, at least accessorise differently. ” he remembers wearing pretty much the same outfits daily on the express. shudder.
with a little wave of his hand, “ please, don't worry. if it's any comfort, i'll say if it becomes a problem- ” chances are he wouldn't, but shhh whatever whatever- “ but it's a good day today. i shouldn't think that will be a problem. ” pause again. “ shall we set off? if clothes shopping works, then. ”
sunday feels like a child that has been left to hold their mother's place in the line at the grocery store, only to realise that said line is getting shorter and shorter, the mother is nowhere to be seen and the child cannot pay.
in other words – march 7th just disappeared on him, in the middle of astropolis's biggest shopping centre, and there are at least fifteen members of the ipc around him he can see just from the logos on their uniforms. it's not even dread he feels any more. just a bit of “ shit, ” with a small hint of “ fuck my life. ”
so he does what any sane person would do, and ducks into the nearest store. clothing store. it's all flashy, green-and-gold and expensive. the sort of thing he doesn't have the money first anymore.
anyway – that's not the biggest concern to him right now. not after he realises all of this is violently out of his price range, turns to leave and makes direct, humiliating eye contact with flashy, green-and-gold and expensive aventurine of stupid fucking stratagems, who is standing less than a metre away from him. fuck his stupid chud life!! whatever. he's changing his identity. call him terrence from now on.
— @orderguided
Despite the fact that this was technically a vacation, Aventurine had spent a rather large portion of it filming photoshoots and advertisements. Granted, the workload was atleast lesser than usual. Better a professional team than paparazzi attempting to take pictures of him.
He was being followed by no small amount of bodyguards, though they kept just enough distance to be subtle. Aventurine would be a fool if he didn't expect danger. There would always be those who loathed him for the perceived meaning behind the colour of his eyes alone. But that was the type of danger he had grown accustomed to, grown to expect. The kind he didn't, was a rather notorious fugitive standing barely out of arm's reach. At the very least, he could rule out the possibility of this meeting being premeditated as Sunday's face seemed to reflect the surprise he felt.
Once the initial shock wore off, Aventurine could only scold himself for his brief moment of surprise. After the Fulwish incident in Planarcadia, Sunday had become rather publically associated with the express. And if they were here, it was only natural that he would be too ...Aaandd they've been standing here staring for a rather awkward amount of time.
Well, there was no pretending not to notice him now, was there? Aventurine shifted his hand, seemingly adjusting his glove. It was a practiced motion, a rather reflexive move as he prepared to activate his shield. Did he think Sunday was going to attack him here and now? Certainly not. It would be a horrible idea and the halovian was much too smart for that. That little fact offered enough reassurance for him to approach Sunday with his signature smile on his face,
"Well its certainly been a while, my friend." Friend may have been a stretch at best but if it was true that Sunday had become a nameless of all things- amiability would be best.
it's a far cry from the well-spoken sunday back in penacony. this one is twitchy, fiddling with his own hands and eyes flicking side to side. even his wings move slightly to shield his face, as if that will help him.
he chews on his lip. right. right, okay. maybe terrence doesn't work. it's too fancy for the cave he's going to be living in from now on. he wonders if he should choose jed or dan. “ i believe it has been, ” terrence-jed-dan says instead. “ ah. apologies. ” this is not the time for long sentences. “ am i blocking your way? ”
run make excuses avoid leave. this is sooo fucking awkward. what the hell what the hell what the hell. he's not even allowed to swear this is meant to be a pg game. “ sorry, ” he says again. god, this place is so aventurine-core that no matter where he looks, it's like he's staring right at him. “ ...is this place ipc-sponsored? or– something of the sort? ” twitch twitch. his wings. “ it looks very... ” slight wave of his hand. he's suddenly very aware of march's 3 heavy shopping bags hanging there. “ –you. ”
Loki knocked on the door to Sunday's hotel room before taking a few steps back, leaning against the wall while she waited for the door to open. Having decided on a spontaneous shopping trip today, she decided to take Sunday along. After all, surely the 'meager' funds she had given the halovian couldn't still be enough?
She also felt that shopping for a house would be ideal. After all, the room in Hotel Debord couldn't be treated like an apartment for the long term.
She waved a hand, shards of cryo forming into a makeshift mirror with jagged edges. Loki absently toyed with her hair and lipstick as she waited.
— @trxgicfxrce
oh fuck, it's a visitor. he looks atrocious.
this is, safe to say, an exaggeration. his hair is slightly messy from his constantly running his hands through it, and he can't find a suitable pair of gloves anywhere, so he pulls on a pair that he had intended to wash today (eugh) and opens the door, and–
ah, fuck. she's — uh oh — unreasonably attractive. this is unfair. he clenches his jaw just slightly (in case he was making some stupid expression). “ ah. ” intelligent!! how eloquent of you. “ um. hello, ” he says, with his usual slight smile. she's fine. what the hell. what the fuuuuck.
Loki met his smile with one of her own, tossing her mirror aside carelessly. It dissipated the second it left her hands, leaving behind only faint elemental residue.
"Hello" she returned the greeting, smile widening a tad at the difference in his demeanor. "Its a lovely day, no? If you aren't too busy, I was thinking of inviting you along with me. Nothing too flashy, just a quick shopping trip." admittedly her trips were hardly ever 'quick' but that was irrelevant.
sunday straightens up properly, hands folded behind his back — mostly to hide his annoyingly wrinkly gloves. (there's a single crease in the palm of the left one. how dare it exist.) “ hm– who am i to refuse? i would be honoured. ” this is still unfair, he thinks, just about managing not slipping over the words. not that it wouldn't be noticeable if you were perceptive.
which, of course, she is. fucking aeons. “ a spontaneous one, i assume? ” he tilts his head to the side. “ would you mind if i changed quickly first? i do fear these aren't quite clean enough. ”
"Honoured? I'm flattered but you needn't be, this is only me extending an invitation to a good friend" Loki shook her head slightly. "Unless you want to call it a date, which is fine by me too." She was joking. Mostly. Not entirely. She wouldn't be upset if it did happen to turn into one.
"Indeed. Its why I failed to give you any notice in advance before showing up at your doorstep- my apologies for that. I'm afraid the spontaneous label also applies to nearly everything I do."
"Ofcourse, ofcourse. Please, take all the time you need. I am the one who dropped by so abruptly, after all"
“ but surely i can be honoured all the same? ” intense bird vibes coming off this guy rn. one or his wings twitches slightly. ah. ah. what– exactly is he meant to say to that? c'mon, sunday, blink. that's a thing people have to do. “ whatever you wish, ” he says cheerfully instead. which is probably vague enough to mean nothing at all.
he shakes his head. “ ah, no worries. i've never got my schedule particularly packed anyway. ” once upon a time, he'd have cared a lot more about edits to his schedule. stelle was spontaneous enough to mostly shock him out of that.
with a quick nod, he disappears back into his room for a moment and returns wearing something a little more presentable. (black blouse, cream trousers – high waisted. most of his nice clothes are in the wash. “ i'm ready, ” he calls out, quickly enough.
"If you want to be, I can't stop you. But I still think its rather unnecessary" Loki bit her tounge against a chuckle at his reaction. She briefly contemplated pushing it a little, just to see what Sunday might do but dropped that idea. It had the potential to sour their shopping trip and that wouldn't be a very good move on her part.
"Thats good then. All work would make for such a dull day, wouldn't it" Loki pulled a face. Not that she consistently did her work either way.
"Then we can set off. Is there any particular place you wish to visit first? Or items you might want?"
“ ah, well, ” he shrugs. “ it wouldn't be a new experience. but you are right, i believe. it's not particularly entertaining working constantly. starts to fray your nerves a little. ” sunday frames it like a joke, with a sigh and a shake of his head.
places?... uh. another i'm not sure is probably obnoxious, he supposes. it's not like it's contributing much. “ ...clothes, perhaps? ” pause. “ perhaps i have just identified the biggest job at the very start. i'm not sure what i really need, though – if there's anything you particularly want, i'd always be happy to do that instead. ” he shrugs.
"A little?" Loki snorted "You kidding? I'm already done month if they make me sit behind a desk with papers for an hour. I mean its more tolerable if its a diplomatic meeting because somebody else is there to keep things fun enough."
Loki flicked his forehead lightly "No, silly, I asked where you wanted to go. If i already had some place in mind then I'd be taking you there, not asking where you'd like to go."
"Besides, while we're on the topic of clothes, there is one very important fact you should know about me..." ominous pause. Loki briefly leaned in like she was going to tell him some important secret but then moved away just as quickly to chirpily announce "I'm never turning down the opportunity to go clothes shopping. As in never ever. Seriously there's nothing better to shop for- well actually no, gold and wine is really great too..." Loki muttered the last part to herself, putting a finger to her chin in thought.
“ i do fear i can't stand diplomatic meetings, ” he admits. “ the ones i've been in, at least. they go on so long, and everyone's three seconds from insulting each other at all times but they can't do so for – ” air quotes – “ political reasons, so they're just obnoxiously polite instead. they drag on so. ” pause. “ i suspect we've had different experiences with diplomatic meetings. ”
he attempts to look at his own forehead. it doesn't go very well, but it's a little endearing at least. “ shopping enthusiast, perhaps? ” he asks dryly. “ i don't go shopping often; only really when someone takes me out, ” like robin or march. usually he's left carrying the bags. “ well – there's no need to pick a favourite if you can just do them all, right? ” sunday raises an eyebrow. “ and you know these streets better than i do, so i won't complain at anything. ” as if ever does. it's a good day, though. he's barely leaning on the cane.
Loki knocked on the door to Sunday's hotel room before taking a few steps back, leaning against the wall while she waited for the door to open. Having decided on a spontaneous shopping trip today, she decided to take Sunday along. After all, surely the 'meager' funds she had given the halovian couldn't still be enough?
She also felt that shopping for a house would be ideal. After all, the room in Hotel Debord couldn't be treated like an apartment for the long term.
She waved a hand, shards of cryo forming into a makeshift mirror with jagged edges. Loki absently toyed with her hair and lipstick as she waited.
— @trxgicfxrce
oh fuck, it's a visitor. he looks atrocious.
this is, safe to say, an exaggeration. his hair is slightly messy from his constantly running his hands through it, and he can't find a suitable pair of gloves anywhere, so he pulls on a pair that he had intended to wash today (eugh) and opens the door, and–
ah, fuck. she's — uh oh — unreasonably attractive. this is unfair. he clenches his jaw just slightly (in case he was making some stupid expression). “ ah. ” intelligent!! how eloquent of you. “ um. hello, ” he says, with his usual slight smile. she's fine. what the hell. what the fuuuuck.
Loki met his smile with one of her own, tossing her mirror aside carelessly. It dissipated the second it left her hands, leaving behind only faint elemental residue.
"Hello" she returned the greeting, smile widening a tad at the difference in his demeanor. "Its a lovely day, no? If you aren't too busy, I was thinking of inviting you along with me. Nothing too flashy, just a quick shopping trip." admittedly her trips were hardly ever 'quick' but that was irrelevant.
sunday straightens up properly, hands folded behind his back — mostly to hide his annoyingly wrinkly gloves. (there's a single crease in the palm of the left one. how dare it exist.) “ hm– who am i to refuse? i would be honoured. ” this is still unfair, he thinks, just about managing not slipping over the words. not that it wouldn't be noticeable if you were perceptive.
which, of course, she is. fucking aeons. “ a spontaneous one, i assume? ” he tilts his head to the side. “ would you mind if i changed quickly first? i do fear these aren't quite clean enough. ”
"Honoured? I'm flattered but you needn't be, this is only me extending an invitation to a good friend" Loki shook her head slightly. "Unless you want to call it a date, which is fine by me too." She was joking. Mostly. Not entirely. She wouldn't be upset if it did happen to turn into one.
"Indeed. Its why I failed to give you any notice in advance before showing up at your doorstep- my apologies for that. I'm afraid the spontaneous label also applies to nearly everything I do."
"Ofcourse, ofcourse. Please, take all the time you need. I am the one who dropped by so abruptly, after all"
“ but surely i can be honoured all the same? ” intense bird vibes coming off this guy rn. one or his wings twitches slightly. ah. ah. what– exactly is he meant to say to that? c'mon, sunday, blink. that's a thing people have to do. “ whatever you wish, ” he says cheerfully instead. which is probably vague enough to mean nothing at all.
he shakes his head. “ ah, no worries. i've never got my schedule particularly packed anyway. ” once upon a time, he'd have cared a lot more about edits to his schedule. stelle was spontaneous enough to mostly shock him out of that.
with a quick nod, he disappears back into his room for a moment and returns wearing something a little more presentable. (black blouse, cream trousers – high waisted. most of his nice clothes are in the wash. “ i'm ready, ” he calls out, quickly enough.
"If you want to be, I can't stop you. But I still think its rather unnecessary" Loki bit her tounge against a chuckle at his reaction. She briefly contemplated pushing it a little, just to see what Sunday might do but dropped that idea. It had the potential to sour their shopping trip and that wouldn't be a very good move on her part.
"Thats good then. All work would make for such a dull day, wouldn't it" Loki pulled a face. Not that she consistently did her work either way.
"Then we can set off. Is there any particular place you wish to visit first? Or items you might want?"
“ ah, well, ” he shrugs. “ it wouldn't be a new experience. but you are right, i believe. it's not particularly entertaining working constantly. starts to fray your nerves a little. ” sunday frames it like a joke, with a sigh and a shake of his head.
places?... uh. another i'm not sure is probably obnoxious, he supposes. it's not like it's contributing much. “ ...clothes, perhaps? ” pause. “ perhaps i have just identified the biggest job at the very start. i'm not sure what i really need, though – if there's anything you particularly want, i'd always be happy to do that instead. ” he shrugs.
Loki knocked on the door to Sunday's hotel room before taking a few steps back, leaning against the wall while she waited for the door to open. Having decided on a spontaneous shopping trip today, she decided to take Sunday along. After all, surely the 'meager' funds she had given the halovian couldn't still be enough?
She also felt that shopping for a house would be ideal. After all, the room in Hotel Debord couldn't be treated like an apartment for the long term.
She waved a hand, shards of cryo forming into a makeshift mirror with jagged edges. Loki absently toyed with her hair and lipstick as she waited.
— @trxgicfxrce
oh fuck, it's a visitor. he looks atrocious.
this is, safe to say, an exaggeration. his hair is slightly messy from his constantly running his hands through it, and he can't find a suitable pair of gloves anywhere, so he pulls on a pair that he had intended to wash today (eugh) and opens the door, and–
ah, fuck. she's — uh oh — unreasonably attractive. this is unfair. he clenches his jaw just slightly (in case he was making some stupid expression). “ ah. ” intelligent!! how eloquent of you. “ um. hello, ” he says, with his usual slight smile. she's fine. what the hell. what the fuuuuck.
Loki met his smile with one of her own, tossing her mirror aside carelessly. It dissipated the second it left her hands, leaving behind only faint elemental residue.
"Hello" she returned the greeting, smile widening a tad at the difference in his demeanor. "Its a lovely day, no? If you aren't too busy, I was thinking of inviting you along with me. Nothing too flashy, just a quick shopping trip." admittedly her trips were hardly ever 'quick' but that was irrelevant.
sunday straightens up properly, hands folded behind his back — mostly to hide his annoyingly wrinkly gloves. (there's a single crease in the palm of the left one. how dare it exist.) “ hm– who am i to refuse? i would be honoured. ” this is still unfair, he thinks, just about managing not slipping over the words. not that it wouldn't be noticeable if you were perceptive.
which, of course, she is. fucking aeons. “ a spontaneous one, i assume? ” he tilts his head to the side. “ would you mind if i changed quickly first? i do fear these aren't quite clean enough. ”
"Honoured? I'm flattered but you needn't be, this is only me extending an invitation to a good friend" Loki shook her head slightly. "Unless you want to call it a date, which is fine by me too." She was joking. Mostly. Not entirely. She wouldn't be upset if it did happen to turn into one.
"Indeed. Its why I failed to give you any notice in advance before showing up at your doorstep- my apologies for that. I'm afraid the spontaneous label also applies to nearly everything I do."
"Ofcourse, ofcourse. Please, take all the time you need. I am the one who dropped by so abruptly, after all"
“ but surely i can be honoured all the same? ” intense bird vibes coming off this guy rn. one or his wings twitches slightly. ah. ah. what– exactly is he meant to say to that? c'mon, sunday, blink. that's a thing people have to do. “ whatever you wish, ” he says cheerfully instead. which is probably vague enough to mean nothing at all.
he shakes his head. “ ah, no worries. i've never got my schedule particularly packed anyway. ” once upon a time, he'd have cared a lot more about edits to his schedule. stelle was spontaneous enough to mostly shock him out of that.
with a quick nod, he disappears back into his room for a moment and returns wearing something a little more presentable. (black blouse, cream trousers – high waisted. most of his nice clothes are in the wash. “ i'm ready, ” he calls out, quickly enough.
Loki knocked on the door to Sunday's hotel room before taking a few steps back, leaning against the wall while she waited for the door to open. Having decided on a spontaneous shopping trip today, she decided to take Sunday along. After all, surely the 'meager' funds she had given the halovian couldn't still be enough?
She also felt that shopping for a house would be ideal. After all, the room in Hotel Debord couldn't be treated like an apartment for the long term.
She waved a hand, shards of cryo forming into a makeshift mirror with jagged edges. Loki absently toyed with her hair and lipstick as she waited.
— @trxgicfxrce
oh fuck, it's a visitor. he looks atrocious.
this is, safe to say, an exaggeration. his hair is slightly messy from his constantly running his hands through it, and he can't find a suitable pair of gloves anywhere, so he pulls on a pair that he had intended to wash today (eugh) and opens the door, and–
ah, fuck. she's — uh oh — unreasonably attractive. this is unfair. he clenches his jaw just slightly (in case he was making some stupid expression). “ ah. ” intelligent!! how eloquent of you. “ um. hello, ” he says, with his usual slight smile. she's fine. what the hell. what the fuuuuck.
Loki met his smile with one of her own, tossing her mirror aside carelessly. It dissipated the second it left her hands, leaving behind only faint elemental residue.
"Hello" she returned the greeting, smile widening a tad at the difference in his demeanor. "Its a lovely day, no? If you aren't too busy, I was thinking of inviting you along with me. Nothing too flashy, just a quick shopping trip." admittedly her trips were hardly ever 'quick' but that was irrelevant.
sunday straightens up properly, hands folded behind his back — mostly to hide his annoyingly wrinkly gloves. (there's a single crease in the palm of the left one. how dare it exist.) “ hm– who am i to refuse? i would be honoured. ” this is still unfair, he thinks, just about managing not slipping over the words. not that it wouldn't be noticeable if you were perceptive.
which, of course, she is. fucking aeons. “ a spontaneous one, i assume? ” he tilts his head to the side. “ would you mind if i changed quickly first? i do fear these aren't quite clean enough. ”
Loki knocked on the door to Sunday's hotel room before taking a few steps back, leaning against the wall while she waited for the door to open. Having decided on a spontaneous shopping trip today, she decided to take Sunday along. After all, surely the 'meager' funds she had given the halovian couldn't still be enough?
She also felt that shopping for a house would be ideal. After all, the room in Hotel Debord couldn't be treated like an apartment for the long term.
She waved a hand, shards of cryo forming into a makeshift mirror with jagged edges. Loki absently toyed with her hair and lipstick as she waited.
— @trxgicfxrce
oh fuck, it's a visitor. he looks atrocious.
this is, safe to say, an exaggeration. his hair is slightly messy from his constantly running his hands through it, and he can't find a suitable pair of gloves anywhere, so he pulls on a pair that he had intended to wash today (eugh) and opens the door, and–
ah, fuck. she's — uh oh — unreasonably attractive. this is unfair. he clenches his jaw just slightly (in case he was making some stupid expression). “ ah. ” intelligent!! how eloquent of you. “ um. hello, ” he says, with his usual slight smile. she's fine. what the hell. what the fuuuuck.
As Sunday opens the box he is met with a white blob? As he pulls it out of the box he notices that it's a big marshmallow!
On the inside of the flaps on the box there is a post-it with a familiar style of doodle. This time it's the simplistic Sunday toasting a marshmallow with two other birds, presumably Robin and Wonweek and a simplistic dog...
Beneath the pillow there is another small simplistic bird Robin plush.
ah, it's cute!!
then again, he doesn't exactly have very low standards for what cute is. for example, that plushie march has in her room. (he's still not sure who hatsune miku is, but still.)
he adds them to the Hoard and sets his playlist of robin's songs on shuffle.
ah!! he places it gently in his collection of shiny things™. the bird brain is overpowering. “ thank you very much, ” he says, observing it quite intently.
sunday's not sure if teyvat celebrates fathers' day, or if they celebrate it at the same time. he should ask someone, perhaps.
not today, though.
for a reason he cannot describe, it feels as if he is grieving. something deep and hungry and hollow in the middle of his chest, carving out a gap where a heart should, by all means, should be.
it is painful. at the same time, everything feels dulled down. the same effect a pillow has when you scream into it.
he does feel like doing that, perhaps.
by all means he should be thankful to father - by all means he should be grovelling and pleading for forgiveness. ungratefulness is a sin. he deserves to beg.
to be honest, he probably has it pretty good. there are plenty of other people out there who got a much worse shot, most likely. sunday should be thankful that he is not one of them.
father was very gracious, after all, and if he tells the truth - it feels like he has never left him. (this is not a good thing.) it feels like nothing ever changed at all. the crows are still there - he may control them, now, but they will never truly be his - and there is still that feeling of being watched that he has long since gotten used to.
"sunday," calls the voice. sunday jumps in a manner that is less graceful than he wished it could have been, heart beating jackhammer-fast in his chest. it has not been long since he was adopted. he still has the burn scars, raw and angry red over his hands.
of course, they will never fade entirely, but it is nice to think. hope. delude. whatever you wish to call it. he rubs his hands together anxiously, turning to face his father.
mr. gopher wood has presented him with a gift. a small box. sunday takes it, opens it with hands that shake a little too much, skin aching with the movement.
inside is a pocketwatch.
the sight of it makes him feel slightly sick.
he still has that pocketwatch. it hangs on the inside of his jacket, or in the front pocket of his waistcoat, or in the box that it came in on his desk. it has been fifteen years. there is not a single scratch on it, not a single indent on the gold casing or a blemish on the glass. you can see through it to the gears that work inside.
sunday picks it up, holds it in his hand like it will shatter at a wrong touch. gently, he lets it swing in front of his face - gold chain wrapped around his hand. he could let go so easily.
"father-" he says, like it is some sort of mantra. maybe if he says it over and over, things will change. perhaps the more he says it, the bigger the chance there is that father will be a different person.
there is a hand on his face. he flinches violently, so hard his neck cracks.
"do not complain," chastises father, hand cold as if blood does not run though it. a crow stares at him, eyes yellow and blank and beady, from where it sits on the bookshelf. "i am doing this for your sake.
father tells the truth. he knows this. that does not stop sunday from crying out - the harsh cry that rips from his throat cut off, leaving something hoarse and dry behind. beyond the sky, the stars shimmer. they are not for him.
he should deal with this. handle it. (take it like a man.) so he bites into his lip so hard that the fibres tear beneath his teeth, letting blood pool on his face and run down his chin. the pain in his lip distracts him. it helps, most likely.
he is biting his lip now, he notes, and when he opens his mouth again his teeth leave indents behind, slightly bloody.
the first thought in this mind is that this man is rather intimdating. the second turns to be that his face is quite visually appearing (does he have to put it that way?), but he shakes that away as soon as it appears.
“ ah... preferably this vendor, but if you have any particularly strong opinions, there's nothing stopping me from moving around a little, ” he says quite easily. nothing stopping him apart from the things that are - but alas, that's not the point right now.
his wings move from their slightly spread position to arranging themselves a little more curled. odd. he had intended to use a touch of tuning to make people focus on them less - not invisible, but for their minds to instinctively draw attention away from them. it does not seem to work on him.
sunday shakes his head. “ i do not believe i have tried it, no, ” he confirms. “ it's my first time in liyue - although, i do fear that's a little obvious. ” with a chuckle that's slightly awkward, in an easy sort of way, “ i've tried sumeran and fontainian; ah, and snezhnayan. all rather different from each other. ” perhaps he will go to each nation and collect the tea from there. like the avatar. the last teabender.
“ though, from what i've seen, it does seem similar to other sorts i've tried - ” stuff that the express bought from the xianzhou, but he can't say that. “ - i'm not sure though, of course. ”
A NICE YOUNG MAN, IT SEEMS. BUT THE CONSULTANT CANNOT HELP BUT BE DRAWN TO THE WINGS. it . . . does not bring unpleasant memories to surface, but it makes him wonder a bit. there is something odd- but he's hardly one to reject the need of someone who is so curious. haha, the two of them are similar indeed.
“ you seem quite fond of tea yourself. ” the consultant states, hand to his chin in thought. “ do you have any preference from the three you've tried? i can recommend you something based on that. ”
he is observant - the young man, that is.
fair skinned and his hair. . . one could think he is from snezhnaya, but he lacks the accent and the foreign style is not of snezhnaya either. it reminds him of the traveler, almost. he wonders how the traveler and paimon fare in the world for a brief moment before shaking the thought away with fondness.
“ i am personally fond of osmanthus tea. ” Zhongli says mindfully.
“ i do prefer it to coffee, ” he hums. “ the flavour is more to my taste. although i do see its appeal during late nights, ” sunday half-jokes, an almost-awkward smile falling onto his face. it would have been more so, perhaps, if there wasn't that - slightly intentional impression to it. made specifically to be a little charming, despite the lack of bad intentions behind it.
preference?... the halovian thinks for a second. “ ...fontanian, perhaps, ” he says eventually. “ the other two are a little too strong to cater to my tastes entirely. ” though perhaps he's a little biased, that being the first he tried -
-but no, he doubts it. fontainian tea is most similar to the teas he liked back at home, after all.
“ osmanthus tea? ” sunday asks. “ i've heard of it before, i think - it must be quite popular? ”
sunday shouldn't be staying in liyue for too much longer, he thinks. or at least, he doesn't plan to - times change, of course, and he's trying to be a little less structured with his life nowadays. (that way, if something goes wrong, he doesn't end up feeling sick to the stumach and wondering what to do with his life.
he's tried most of the big things so far - thanks for the mora, loki - like eating at some nice restaurants, going shopping... that disastrous time he managed to get abysmally lost somewhere in the crack of where the aeons don't want to look... that sort of thing.
it's the tea he's looking for now. he's not entirely sure where he is, again, but at least he knows how to leave this time. he debates at a stall for a little too long - eyes flicking nervously between the options, knowing he's stupidly picky and not willing to take the risk of trying something he won't like. eventually, he attempts to ask someone. some gentleman dressed in browns, looking like he's spent his whole life drinking tea. looking like he invented the concept of tea itself.
“ excuse me, sir, ” he says lightly (then feeling slightly queasy at the rush of some sort of - energy? elemental magic? he's not sure). “ i apologise if this is a little random - are there any teas you would recommend? ” he needs to stop apologising.
THE HARBOR'S NOISE IS A WONDERFUL MELODY OF HIS DAUGHTER'S BOONS. the consultant finds himself beautiful immersed in thinking about the new selection. if he's correct, this batch should've shipped in five days? then it means its around a week old already. even though this is his usual shop, he doesn't find it in himself entirely to buy the usual. perhaps he could just go to third round knock out. . . but their tea isn't much fresher at all.
he's half a step towards the counter when a young man approaches him.
the energy signature is off.
Zhongli tenses, not expressing anything as he looks at the person who just bothered his tea shopping. it's clearly a foreigner, so he doesn't expect the young man to know him. . .
. . .
that apologetic tone reminds him of a few people.
and that question immediately dismisses any offense that the consultant takes.
“ quite a few. ” he hums, neutral expression shifting into something of a small, polite smile. one you might give to a customer you haven't decided if you liked or not. the consultant turns back to the shop, “ are you inquiring for recommendations from this vendor specifically, or any in the harbor? ”
a laugh. he notices the . . . feathers. the wings. his eyes crinkle just a bit too much at the corners. “ i have some favorites i am loyal to. ”
there is hardly a pause, “ have you tried liyuean tea before? it's different from sumeran and inazuman for many reasons. ”
the first thought in this mind is that this man is rather intimdating. the second turns to be that his face is quite visually appearing (does he have to put it that way?), but he shakes that away as soon as it appears.
“ ah... preferably this vendor, but if you have any particularly strong opinions, there's nothing stopping me from moving around a little, ” he says quite easily. nothing stopping him apart from the things that are - but alas, that's not the point right now.
his wings move from their slightly spread position to arranging themselves a little more curled. odd. he had intended to use a touch of tuning to make people focus on them less - not invisible, but for their minds to instinctively draw attention away from them. it does not seem to work on him.
sunday shakes his head. “ i do not believe i have tried it, no, ” he confirms. “ it's my first time in liyue - although, i do fear that's a little obvious. ” with a chuckle that's slightly awkward, in an easy sort of way, “ i've tried sumeran and fontainian; ah, and snezhnayan. all rather different from each other. ” perhaps he will go to each nation and collect the tea from there. like the avatar. the last teabender.
“ though, from what i've seen, it does seem similar to other sorts i've tried - ” stuff that the express bought from the xianzhou, but he can't say that. “ - i'm not sure though, of course. ”
though sunday does like snezhnaya - the weather is acceptable, if a little on the cold side, but putting on more layers is easy enough. perhaps he's just biased to the first place he saw, he wonders. and the orchestra - ah, he does miss that. but he'll be back soon enough. not as if he can't use the teleport waypoints if he needs to, anyway.
he's been in one of the music rooms in zapolyarny palace all day; not doing much, just abstractly making a few compositions, switching from instrument to instrument. no, this won't do - he gives up, and ends up leaving. just out of the corridor, he makes eye contact with someone walking towards the room - is that-?
“ um, ” he says, because he doesn't know what else to say. “ ...it's a pleasure to see you again, monsieur auclair. are you not meant to be dead? ”
“Bonjour. It's... Well, it's a bit of a long story. I'm glad you were not harmed during the explosion. It's a pleasure to see you again, I didn't know you would be in Snezhnaya.” Dorian looks... well he looks much more healthy now. The Anemo vision on his hip clinked gently against a Cryo Delusion, and both of them were connected to a sheathed sword.
“ not particularly harmed, ” he shakes his head. “ certainly an impactful performance, though. most of the orchestra was fine: i, the concertmaster, his vice and a few others sitting at the front only got some small scrapes from shrapnel. you, though - that looked rather painful, if you ask me. ” pause. there had been something... he hums. “ how ever did you get away with it? ”
ah, right. “ i spend most of my time split between fontaine and snezhnaya, ” he nods. doesn't specify why, quite yet. nobody starts conversations with 'i have a situationship-esque thing going on with the tsaritsa'. he notes the delusion - wonders if dorian has seen his own. he doubts it: it wasn't on him in fontaine, and here he keeps it usually inside his jacket. (even if he can use the elements, a delusion is more efficient. what's it gonna do? kill him?) “ i was indeed just leaving. are you coming in now? ”
sunday shouldn't be staying in liyue for too much longer, he thinks. or at least, he doesn't plan to - times change, of course, and he's trying to be a little less structured with his life nowadays. (that way, if something goes wrong, he doesn't end up feeling sick to the stumach and wondering what to do with his life.
he's tried most of the big things so far - thanks for the mora, loki - like eating at some nice restaurants, going shopping... that disastrous time he managed to get abysmally lost somewhere in the crack of where the aeons don't want to look... that sort of thing.
it's the tea he's looking for now. he's not entirely sure where he is, again, but at least he knows how to leave this time. he debates at a stall for a little too long - eyes flicking nervously between the options, knowing he's stupidly picky and not willing to take the risk of trying something he won't like. eventually, he attempts to ask someone. some gentleman dressed in browns, looking like he's spent his whole life drinking tea. looking like he invented the concept of tea itself.
“ excuse me, sir, ” he says lightly (then feeling slightly queasy at the rush of some sort of - energy? elemental magic? he's not sure). “ i apologise if this is a little random - are there any teas you would recommend? ” he needs to stop apologising.
