#visionhcld

[ayahimes]

my dear sister, you stink. best regards, ayato.

dearest brother , i believe you stink too since you are a kamisharto as well . should i just convert your chair into a commode since you work such long hours ? then you can shit where you sit . surely it'll save you some time . sincerely , ayaka

[vierandancer]

@visionhcld

"Of course it's important. Would I really request your assistance if it wasn't?" Azem was, of course, banking on the fact that the venerable, honorable Emet-selch would not ask for clarification on the 'importance'. They would not have the same definitions.

"Your expertise is sorely needed. I'm great at a lot, I know, but not everything. And travel to the city doesn't take long at all! We'll be back by tonight, probably."

[feyras]

❛ try and keep up , ❜ estinien says , almost breathless as he swings the lance down against @visionhcld 's sword . despite the many successes of the temple knights , the dravanian horde still wrought havoc against ishgard . in turn , training would become more brutal , more intense . it was expected after every loss , but estinien didn't seem to mind . it was a distraction from his loss and an outlet for his anger . he'd push himself to the limit and beyond if it meant that it would one day warrant the terror of nidhogg immobile .

the slam of metal against metal echoes across the training yard as they make contact , a determined grin pulled across the young dragoon's lips . it's a playful look , one of contentment and a rarity in itself . it's not often , if ever , that he shows his enjoyment in anything . admittedly , he hardly found joy in most things . however , with aymeric he allowed such moments of transparency . he was the only other person whom he considered his friend . estinien had little patience with most people , but aymeric proved to meet his expectations , if not more . a scoff escapes , a strangled sound followed by a gruff of banter , ❛ i've yet to see you lunge at me first . 'tis a shame since i'd rather much enjoy seeing you on the offensive for once . ❜ he jumps back , the lance flicking at his side as he changes his stance . ❛ mayhaps your plan is to use me as bait against the horde and let me perish on the battlefield first ? though i doubt you could be so cruel . ❜ he smirks , his clouded gaze meeting a sea of blue . ❛ just try and get one hit in . ❜

[inhumanheresy]

@visionhcld - don't mind me I just wanted to both play dress-up and explore cultural taste/fashion differences

Tartaglia curses as he rifles through his closet, tossing pieces out onto a haphazard pile on the bed for consideration. “Zhongli, could you— hrm, not this one— could you give me your Proper Consultant Opinion on this? If I’m going to be mingling with the Qixing, I need to be imperious and threatening but not too imperious and threatening, and also display a level of luxury that shows off without being tasteless.”

It’s a fine line to tread, but especially so in Liyue.

He wears his crisp dress whites as he sorts through his options — not his formal heavy-coated Harbinger black-red-white that he’d wear back in Zapolyarny, a chiaroscuro sharp and dangerous to intimidate and inspire all at once; that would be far Too Much for this situation.

The white uniform shines clean and cold. A large, lone ruby dangles from his shoulder badge; gold buttons, braid, and embroidery gleam at his chest, his wrists, his shoulders as he turns with half-capelets in each hand, one a light-drinking velvet red and the other an indigo eternally shimmering between blue-black and twilight purple.

Tartaglia wrinkles his nose as he looks between the two of them before raising them for Zhongli’s opinion. “Eh? Or are they too much; is this all too much?”

[inhumanheresy]

@visionhcld

Head propped up on his hand, Ajax regards Zhongli with a contemplative, curious air. “You know, you’ve always been willing to indulge me when we’ve been intimate, no matter what it is that I wished to try. But what about you?”

He straightens, leaning forward with an intent look in his eyes as his fingers loosely lace together. “What desires or whims bide their time unspoken in your heart, xiansheng?”

[brightblessed]

@visionhcld

Dozens of things had flashed through his mind at the very end. He had regrets, sure... But he finally felt like it was okay. To let go. Roi had been waiting to die for a long time. Surviving for others... For the people that died to save him so that their sacrifice would not be wasted. For the people he needed to save and protect. And for the people that would mourn him. But it had still been there. The idea that eventually he would die and when he did, it would be a relief.

It was only recently that he began to look towards the future. That he began to hope and make plans. Because he was loved. Because he loved others. Because he had grown to love the messy world he lived in. Roi's own worst enemy was himself. He still could not love himself. But he tried -- by the Twelve -- he tried to at least make things work out to ease the stress of those that loved him for some reason.

So at the edge of existence, when he threw his teleporter away and faced the End alone, he expected he may die. That he may be unable to stop the end of the world. When he did win, he knew he had to finally end Zenos once and for all. In a place where he could no longer steal any bodies and live on. And when he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore and his pain slowly faded into numbing cold... He couldn't help but think that this had been his fate all along.

But his friends ever tried to defy fate. And somehow, he survived. Wounds that were not possible to survive. Maybe it was dynamis or the blessing of light. He didn't know. But soon the severity of his injuries made themselves known with the pain and exhaustion that attacked him. He closed his eyes again, his head foggy beyond measure.

..... He wasn't alone. He could sense someone's presence as soon as he began to come to again. Honestly, Roi had drifted in and out of wakefulness multiple times. This was far from the first time he had been seriously injured... But usually he woke even briefly entirely lucid. He couldn't remember if his brief times of wakefulness were dreams or not. Amber eyes open slowly, resting upon the crimson ones staring at him.

"Uh... G'raha...?" His voice is groggy and he swallows dryly. "How long have I....?"

[inhumanheresy]

@visionhcld

Ajax wakes slowly.

This in and of itself is unusual. Life in the rank-and-file Fatui barracks would ‘cure’ anyone of deep sleeping, especially a boy with his first patchy whiskers growing in, but Ajax had already learned the folly of deep sleep from both the Abyss and his master. Little else teaches the body quicker than waking up midair while getting tossed into a pack of rifthound whelps.

Now, he wakes to a warm bed, the gentle sound of wind weaving through the trees outside, and the scent of tea. Black tea. Smoky. Lapsang. A memory stirs in the unfamiliar fog of gentle waking.

An all-too-familiar ache permeates his body, but even that lingering pain bites less than it normally does after transforming a second time far too soon after another. He slept a long time, then — long enough for his bones to ease, his flesh to remember what it is to be human. …Human-ish.

It takes a moment to orientate himself as he folds back the covers and swings his legs over the side of the bed, but not long. Good. A deep breath, turning his attention inward and consciously feeling every inch of his body. Sensations. Proportions. Reaction time. All right.

When he levers himself up and walks to the dresser where the tea tray sits, his movement is as steady and assured as usual, no tilt in his balance or tremble to his hands as he pours the tea and tosses back the whole cup with no thought to its heat. Luckily, it’s somehow the perfect temperature, and not at all oversteeped.

Ajax breathes deep, eyes closing, as he once again just stands there and feels. The tea burns not unpleasantly down his throat, warming his chest and belly. The little hairs all over his body stand up and tingle at the sudden change in core temperature compared to the outside air, minute though it is, and he downs a second cup of tea, every second making him more assured of whowhatwhere he is.

And giving his mind time to drag forth the memories of what happened before he passed out.

The little round teacup provides a comforting weight and resistance as his hand tightens around its smooth curve.

He sets it back down on the tea tray and leans his hands against the edge of the dresser. Breathes. Breathes.

Then, he straightens, takes the tea tray, and makes his way out into the main room of the house in Morax’s personal domain. The god himself reclines on a leisure couch, reading, as if nothing out of the ordinary occurred here… however long ago it was. However long he’s been asleep.

Ajax makes his way over, setting the tea tray down on the low table near them before sitting back at Morax’s feet with a great sigh, reaching forward to take his teacup and run his thumb across its lip.

“You probably have more questions.”

[juenhsi]

ayato: [squints]

also ayato: new sister unlocked !!

there happens to be a likeness between the madam magistrate and inazuma's darling . perhaps it's the ethereal similarity or the way they carry themselves . either way jinhsi looks like the third kamisato sibling . she looks at ayato , a raised brow as he squints at her . the feeling must be a bit surreal . ❛ hello ... ❜ she says quietly , a polite gesture following as she bows her head in respect . she's thankful for the opportunity to traverse across the world to meet with the leader of the yashiro commission . though jinhsi has no siblings of her own she wouldn't mind being unofficially adopted by the kamisato siblings . they are quite sweet from what she knows , their kindness made known beyond the borders of inazuma .