#❄ —— ice : refracting light ( in char )

[albrich]

        ❝ ——— ah, sheik, just in time, ❞ rather a sarcastic statement, though there’s a measure of truth in it should sheik wish to lend any assistance to their current ( ... ) state. you see, kaeya has managed to get himself MODERATELY INJURED dealing with a camp of hilichurls on his way back to mondstadt, and while they’re all subdued one way or another ( speaking in that familiar language, ringing in his ears louder and louder and / louder ) he’s somewhat worse for wear. in other words : they’re bleeding, primarily from his shoulder, though he was knicked in the side as well. rookie mistakes, and all. ❝ i’ve gotten myself into a situation of sorts, and i found myself wondering : what do you think are the odds of getting a bit of a lecture if i were to appear on barbara’s doorstep like this? ❞

@luxdea​ // sc.

#luxdea #❄ —— ice : refracting light ( in char ) #❄ —— last hope / looming winter ( main verse ) #they have their priorities in line obviously

[albrich]

@tomoge​, for dainsleif : [ cry ] for your muse to wipe mine’s tears away —— nonverbal ( accepting )

        THE EARTH MOVES WHEN HE ARRIVES ——— it always does. it shifts beneath them / nearly imperceptible / a new ley line being dragged through the earth : transient. impermanent. breakable and erasable, not meant to stay nor remain but still the earth shifts beneath them, as if in answer to its blood flowing through his veins, the acknowledgment thereof. CHILD OF THE UNDEREARTH CHILD OF KHAENRI’AH CHILD F THE CORE OF MY SOUL : and there he is.

        in this twilit night : the twilight knight.

        are you here to take me home, my knight?

       ❝ back again, i see, ❞ BACK AGAIN they say, as if there were any choice / but isn’t there a choice, after all? what brings him back again and again and / again. well : THAT SENSE OF DUTY, kaeya guesses, with his so frequently well—informed educational guesses, and when are they ever wrong, in the end? BACK AGAIN they say, as though the two of them ( knight and wanderer / prince and knight / what is the truth of them, after all? what has time made of them, in the end? which is the truth and which is the lie / which is reality and which is simply a play? ) have met here in this precise location, beneath these twilit stars in the midst of this sprawling forest. HOW DID YOU FIND ME? no : that question’s so very redundant that it seems reductive to wonder at all ——— he followed the ley line, of course. how funny, after all, that they can FIND EACH OTHER / always.

       ❝ hello, my prince, ❞ solemnity abounds !! their gazes meet and / his eye throbs / pain settling against a skull like a long lost friend, a long worn companion, familiar and distant all at once. here the shadows are watching ( always watching always listening always fixated onto them, THE ECLIPSE PRINCE, a paragon of a civilization long gone ) and gazing at them : CHILDREN OF THE EARTH.

       kaeya smiles at dainsleif ——— a smile half—genuine, more genuine than a great deal that he offers to others, A SMILE FOR DAINSLEIF, FOR HIS KNIGHT IN TWILIT ARMOR. here is a gift, a favour, will you treasure it for me?

       ❝ always with my prince, ❞ kaeya all but tuts, plays at DISAPPROVAL as he crosses his arms and shake his head for all that there’s still the curve of his mouth, giving away that they’re teasing him, testing him. ❝ are you truly so formal, little knight? ❞

       ❝ with you, little prince? ❞ a ghost of a smile crosses dainsleif’s face and were kaeya another person entirely perhaps they would be arrested by that / instead they’re just PLEASED. ❝ always, i’m afraid. ❞

        THEY LAUGH / watch the way that the knight shifts with the noise / the earth rippling beneath them / shadows calling to them both / reacting —interacting. ❝ what must i do to get you to all me by my name, i wonder? surely you won’t fail in your duty if you were to call me what everyone else does. we can hardly have you calling me MY PRINCE where others can hear, ❞ as though dainsleif would ever be so careless as to attempt to refer to them in public. MIRTH IS BRIGHT IN HIS VOICE but look close : there is an intensity in his eyes so often offered to those being dissected by him, their chest cavities split and their secrets extracted. he wants / he wants / he wants.

        and his knight doesn’t disappoint. ❝ i believe you know why i cannot call you by anything but your title, your royal highness. ❞

    ��  ❝ do i? ❞ playing at coy, as though there is not RECKLESS JOY settling in their chest / alongside BOUNDLESS GRIEF / both settling themselves alongside each other among the permafrost. ( do you see me? can you find me? can you hear me? can you reach me? i’m here / i’m here / i’m here / I’M ALIVE. )

       ❝ yes, ❞ that ghost of a smile is long gone / and there is a solemnity casting a shadow over his handsome features. ❝ i refuse to call my prince by a FALSE NAME. ❞

        that RECKLESS JOY / BOUNDLESS GRIEF threatens to build and crest and freeze, a wave caught in mid—crash ——— it nearly takes their breath away. there is joy and there is grief and there is guilt and there is relief : this name this false name this traitorous traitorous untrue name / BUT ISN’T IT HIS NAME? ISN’T IT THE NAME THAT HIS FATHER UNWITTINGLY GAVE HIM? all those years ago standing in that storm and wishing to cry and crying because he was a child because he was abandoned because he was their final hope he had spoken and CREPUS RAGNVINDR bestowed upon them their name. this name : KAEYA.

        this name his name this LIE OF A NAME / how long has it been since they have heard their true name? is kaeya not a true name? no, it can’t be / it mustn’t be ——— HE WAS NOT REBORN THAT NIGHT IN THE STORM he was simply half—dead and waiting. awaiting. found. dear dead father had misheard and they had clung on to the result and / HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN SINCE HE HEARD HIS TRUE NAME? oh, lifetimes. centuries. eons.

        the desire to hear it seizes him for the first time in years. grips them by the heartstrings and pulls, threatening to MULTILATE HIS GLACIAL HEART, as they stand here in the inky night staring into the eyes of his BELOVED KNIGHT who swore devotion / i refuse to call my prince by a FALSE NAME / all without getting on his knees. ( can you find me? have you found me? are you here to take me home, my knight? ) like and unlike the childish wants and wishes and hopes, that juvenile desire to hear his BROTHER AND FATHER call him true.

       ❝ i suppose the only solution is to call me by my true name, then, ❞ kaeya speaks casually, as though his heart hasn’t begun to race, as though their nerves have not gone ALIGHT, as though there are not fissures forming on the surface of his permafrost. dainsleif holds their stare / utterly still / it feels as though his right eye is on the verge of HEMORRHAGE. still in disbelief? still out of caution? ❝ go on, then, my knight. ❞

        the wind blows, carrying a mourning song a calling song a homecoming hymn coming to a crescendo on its boughs and / dainsleif mouth PARTS and / oh.

        grief is ———

        that name. his name. his name? unspoken and unheard for / LIFETIMES AN ETERNITY ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS FOREVER IS THAT WHAT MY NAME SOUNDS LIKE IS THAT HOW IT’S FORMED IS THAT HOW IT’S SAID SAY IT AGAIN SAY IT AGAIN NEVER DARE REPEAT IT OR I’LL ——— oh.

        grief is : a heart breaking.

       ❝ hm, ❞ they feel unsteady / speak steadily / even the moon is too bright this reflection of this sun this mimic of the sun the earth’s blood flows through my veins and this distance from the dead is killing me there is a city a—light and THERE IS A CITY ALIGHT it’s burning in me eternally / is it burning in you, too? ❝ is that what it sounds like? ❞

        grief is : the sound of a name, never forgotten and never known.

        they see dainsleif move and they see him draw closer and they see him reach out and there : his touch on his cheek, just beneath his eye. the visible eye. do you know what dwells in the other eye, TWILIGHT KNIGHT? is that inherent, too ——— can you sense can you feel can you SEE? he brushes away a gathering of frost and his mouth moves again : DAINSLEIF SAYS THEIR NAME AGAIN / wrapped in a question / devout as prayer / somber as promise.

        here is the truth : kaeya is not crying / they have not wept since they were held by their DEAR SISTER practically dead and immolated from the inside out / but there is the gathering of FROST ON THEIR SKIN AND THERE IS / a distant burning in their eyes ——— a promise of something to come.

        here is the truth : HE CANNOT CRY HE CANNOT CRY HE CANNOT CRY.

        frost melts on dainsleif’s gloved hand. ❝ say it again, dainsleif, ❞ THE IMPETUOUS PRINCE DEMANDS / he feels greedy and half—mad / knows well that never again will his name be said quite so delicately, could—be adoringly, this name that is his, this name that isn’t kaeya’s. shall i die this way? shall i die as KAEYA, instead? IT IS DANGEROUS TO INDULGE HIMSELF THIS WAY / it is terrifying in part to be known this way / but it is half a test for them / for dainsleif / and half a selfish command.

        ( witness me. WITNESS ME. take me home / take me to a place where only we can belong. take me nowhere — everywhere. )

        and the twilight knight dares to say it again. a vow, witnessed by the darkness / the earth / the waiting stars / the weeping moon / held between their bodies in communion.

#tomoge #tomoge : dainsleif. #❄ —— ice : refracting light ( in char ) #❄ —— last hope / looming winter ( main verse ) #dude i'm so hopped up on energy drinks rn and i think i #went slightly crazy writing this and idk if it makes sense #but y'know i'm definitely Feeling Things so here's THIS #also i didn't rly follow the prompt but uh. sue me.

[albrich]

@tomoge​, from dainsleif : [ surprise ] for your muse to show up at mine’s house without explanation —— nonverbal ( accepting )

        there is a place in his fifth floor apartment that is the safest location in all of mondstadt ——— not a hare nor mouse could discover it, not an insect nor overly curious ( or otherwise clumsy ) house guest could stumble upon it. in the floorboards of their closet there is intertwined an OLD ANCIENT MAGIC, older than THE ARCHONS THEMSELVES, than these gods and ther follies and their trifles ——— old magic which blossomed in shadows, supposedly unworthy of light ( worthy / unworthy / worthy / WHO NEEDS THE LIGHT WHO NEEDS THE SKY THERE IS THE VASTNESS OF THE EARTH AND ITS UNYIELDING EMBRACE ) tightly intertwined in the grain of the wood, hidden beneath layers upon layers of surface magic, too. HERE LIES SHARDS OF HOME, here lies shadows and scrawling writing in his own hand, here lies ——— their heart?

        it’s a place not often visited. it’s a place that calls to him, to his glacial heart, to the chasm that dwells within / buried beneath piles of books and boxes and clothes / he peers into it.  there : his first eyepatch / there : a book on THE ECLIPSE DYNASTY / there : a tightly folded pile of their own notes / there : the shoe that he had worn when he had been left in the pouring rain.

        RAIN IS POURING / THUNDER IS CRASHING / his scars always ache in this weather / and beneath the cacophony there’s a knock on the door ( precisely four and no more, rhythmic in a way that makes his chest ache ) and kaeya’s head lifts slowly, turning, as if expecting someone to be standing there. there is a space in the doorway yearning / screaming for its absence / a wailing siren’s song. the floorboard slots back into place and magic weaves itself once more and when he stands there is something OMINOUS which settles over their shoulders, beseeching, heavy, threatening to anchor him to the spot. but he trudges on / isn’t that what he does best? CONTINUES ON IN SPITE OF HIMSELF IN SPITE OF EVERYTHING IN SPITE OF SORROW BLOSSOMING VIOLENTLY.

        lightning flashes as they cross the living space ——— throwing the stacks of books into sharp relief. kaeya makes his way across them / feels as though he’s walking in front of masses who are watching / feels as though he is making his way to THE ALTAR / THE PYRE / what shall become of them when he arrives?

        ( there is something that sings. there is something that hums. there is something that calls a WARNING SONG. there is something that comes from deep below. there is something. there is something ——— DO NOT REACH FOR THAT DOOR REACH FOR THAT DOOR TURN THAT KNOB WALK FORWARD FORWARD FURTHER FORWARD PROSTRATE YOURSELF / NO, HOLD YOUR HEAD HIGH, OUR FINAL HOPE, LITTLE PRIN ——— )

        he opens the door / his right eye aches, throbs, pulses. there, he can see : ley lines, guiding him home. air rushes from their lungs. ( did you know? could you sense? does it hurt for you, too? does it ache? this distance from the dead ——— this grief / this sorrow, were you drawn here because of that long gone protection? WHERE YOU DRAWN HERE FOR ME? hello my knight. how very far from home we are. removed from space. from time. )

      ❝ hello, little prince. ❞ says the TWILIGHT SWORD, soaked in rain / lost remnant of the ECLIPSE DYNASTY / and there : that guiding song rises to a crescendo, and it feels as though their chest is threatening to BURST. it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, claws sinking into his sternum, fractures racing widening breaking breaking breaking.

        they never want it to stop ( ? )

       ❝ am i truly so little, dainsleif? ❞ the words roll off of his tongue NATURALLY, an offhanded tease, charm delivered with a smile. he destroys the urge to raise a hand to his right eye / runs it through with a blade / A WELL KNOWN AND WELL WORN INSTINCT / but it aches differently, now. not bone—deep, but soul—deep.

       ❝ no, not quite so, ❞ dainsleif tips his head as if in reverence, A SMILE PLAYING ACROSS HIS MOUTH, not quite hidden. nearly hidden.

       ❝ shall i call you little knight in return? ❞ perhaps they should not speak of these things HERE IN THE HALL OF HIS APARTMENTS, where anyone can here / yet somehow kaeya knows in the marrow of his bones the pit of his stomach the frosty expanses of his heart that no one will hear. no one will know. and that is not arrogance, it is simply KNOWLEDGE. instinct. utter / absolute. THE ABYSS SINGS BETWEEN THEM, THE LIGHT DEMANDED HE UN—BECOME / THE SHADOWS DEMAND HE RETURN ONCE MORE. no, not quite : dainsleif demands nothing of him.

       ❝ only if your royal highness insists. ❞

       ❝ perhaps i do. ❞

       ❝ then that is your prerogative, i believe. ❞

       ❝ then we shall make it so, little knight. ❞

       ❝ naturally, little prince. ❞

       ❝ you’re leaving then? so soon? ❞ it’s dangerous to have dainsleif around / it’s DANGEROUS for them to be so near / it’s dangerous to have the air sing between them as it does, at a FEVERED PITCH / a carrying wail / it feels as though dainsleif LOOKS STRAIGHT INTO HIS HEART and truly, who else could truly understand? ARE WE TWO THE LAST THE FINAL THE ONLY HOPES FOR OUR HOME SHALL I CARRY YOUR BURDENS AND MINE IN MY GLACIAL HEART OR SHALL YOU CARRY MINE, TWILIGHT KNIGHT DEAR KNIGHT LITTLE KNIGHT MY KNIGHT? ❝ i’m not sure i’m ready to say goodbye. ❞ a lie / a truth. who’s to know?

       ❝ other places call and i must heed the summons. ❞

       ❝ so mysterious. ❞

        dainsleif’s smile WIDENS and kaeya feels the abrupt compulsion to reach out to him. touch him. remind himself / KNOW / there is another. there is another and he is here, breathing, living ( in such a fashion ), utterly real. he masters the urge / he masters himself / leans against the door frame, instead, smile lazy, movements fluid, even. as if he were WATER, not ice. ❝ is this where we say goodbye, then, little knight? ❞

       ❝ for now, little prince. ❞

        ( here is a truth : there is a JUVENILE PART OF HIS HEART that aches and yearns and screams and stomps their feet and demands demands demands to be taken home. TAKE ME HOME TAKE ME HOME TAKE ME BACK TO THE SHADOWS TO THE GLOWING LINES ABOVE TO THE ABYSS TO THE LEY LINES I RAN BENEATH TAKE ME BACK TO THE ECLIPSE DYNASTY TAKE ME BACK HOME CAN’T YOU DO THAT FOR YOUR PRINCE? surely, surely, surely.

        here is another truth if we are to speak honestly : there is no home. there is nowhere to return. there is nowhere for either of them to return. but to each other, he supposes. but to each other. )

       ❝ farewell then, dainsleif. ❞ thunder rumbles / shadows coalesce.

       ❝ farewell, my prince. ❞ their eye BURNS FIRE—HOT, and he’s gone.

#tomoge #tomoge : dainsleif. #❄ —— ice : refracting light ( in char ) #❄ —— last hope / looming winter ( main verse ) #well this... Went Places and i'm not entirely sure where tbh #also i have No Idea how to write dain's dialogue so if i did it #wrong... don't tell me SKDJGNSKJDGN here take this mess #the scenario for the ask made me laugh and i made it Drama

[albrich]

@fluminas​ : “shh, you’re doing so well, i know it hurts,” barbara murmurs. gentle nothing-words, keep his mind engaged. “i wish i could anesthetize you, but you’re so brave anyways.” don’t mind the tears streaming down her face, her voice is steady. barbara already helped Sister Victoria process one body today; she can’t lose any more family. it’s a miracle kaeya found her, of all people, placed in the burn unit at the ripe age of thirteen because of uncanny experience. it’s a miracle they made it this far with these wounds at all. “just a little longer, okay? then you can rest, i promise.” then he’ll be stable enough to move back to the cathedral, no longer at risk of bleeding out every wound. WHAT SORT OF MONSTER DID THIS TO THEM?? barbara’s vision glows bright enough to be a beacon for patrolling knights, and she prays they’ll make it in time. she prays kaeya will make it at all. but barbatos has always asked people like them to force their own miracles, hasn’t he?? “a few more minutes, you’re almost done.”

        IT HURTS, IT HURTS, IT HURTS. ——— come now, little one, surely you can be more specific than that? come now, little one, surely you can be more specific than that? come now, little one, surely you can ——— what ails you? what hurts? what hurts? WHAT HURTS?

        oh : everything.

        they don’t know what hurts. no ——— they don’t know what hurts the most.  it feels as though he’s become one great bruise / a gaping bleeding wound / A FULL—BODY FULL—THICKNESS BURN, skin sloughing peeling pulling away, away away away, down to the bone down to the visceral innards, to his slowly beating frosted heart. frosted heart / hah / not quite so : IT’S BEEN THAWED BY BURNING HANDS THAT DROVE INTO HIS CHEST AND CAUGHT IT / STRANGLED IT / IT HURTS IT HURTS IT HURTS. his body, this physical prison, their melting heart, their aching head.

        QUESTION : what hurts the most?         ANSWER : oh, barbara.

        her voice is an anchor / claws sinking into flayed flesh. SWEET BARBARA, so lovely and kind, her gentle, warm hands. her gentle, warm heart. her head against their chest and tears streaming down her pretty cherubic face and her hair pulled into a little ponytail so much like her sister’s her tiny hands clutching his shirt IT’S JUST — I WANTED TO SLEEP HERE. a terrible secret / to take to the grave. her lies like water, ebbing and flowing and serene and sinister / they are made of lies / they will keep her lies safe, tucked into their chest / sorry barbara : it seems that my chest is gaping open. can you fix it? can you fix this? can you fix ———

        it’s too much. so much. she’s so young / but isn’t he, too? little barbara, hardly thirteen / little kaeya, soon to be eighteen —— LITTLE DILUC, NEWLY A MAN, TOO. little jean. are they all still children? has he ever been a child? wasn’t this all just pretend? a pretty toy house and pretty toy people and pretty toy weapons and pretty toy fields and they’ve all been burned down. razed to the ground. turned to ash.

        poor barbara. she doesn’t know. she can never know?

        HE WANTS TO LAUGH / so he does. weak and thread—y and wisping wisping wisping away, utterly inappropriate, kaeya feels like an exposed nerve. shaking, trembling, body falling apart. held together by these gentle, warm hands. this voice that he had sought, this safety that he had craved / doesn’t deserve / BARBARA DID YOU KNOW I KILLED MY BROTHER’S HEART DID YOU KNOW HE KILLED MINE IN RETURN? ❝ your bedside manner truly is, ❞ a shuddering breath it hurts it hurts it fucking hurts, ❝ the greatest in all of mond ——— you really make... the best physician, ❞ should they reassure her? isn’t that what an older brother should do? how many times did diluc reassure them when they were frightened or distraught?

        ah, but diluc isn’t his brother any longer, is he? YOU’RE NOT YOU’RE NOT YOU’RE NOT YOU’RE ———

        focus. focus. focus on barbara, on those wide sad terrified eyes / the grief what has settled so terribly on her shoulders / she knows. she knows : THAT CREPUS IS DEAD / kaeya sees him dying dying dying again and again and again, bleeding out held in his TRUE SON’S ARMS / separate apart never quite together / THEY FELT LIBERATED THEY FEEL LIBERATED they feel revulsion with themselves for feeling ——— feeling ——— feeling. feeling what? freedom. despair.

        FOCUS. ❝ that furrow in your brow is... cute, ❞ he reaches up to press his thumb against it and regrets the attempt, pain lancing through his body : his teeth grit and he wants to twist. can’t twist. IT HURTS SO MUCH ——— father please please please help me. which father? who ( ... ) fuck. FUCK. his arm seizes and looking at her hurts. hasn’t it always? they close their eyes. ❝ but it’ll become... permanent, at this rate. this is hardly so, ❞ their breaths are wet. his eyes are wet, half—hidden. ❝ dire. ❞

        dire dire dire / dead. goodbye, crepus.

        barbara’s vision is so bright it burns. her tears are so genuine it burns. kaeya ——— they want to cry, too. they want to / they want to / is that shameful? to cry over the loss of A FALSE FATHER / A FALSE BROTHER. false? false. fake. it was a lie a lie a lie everything they are is a lie. something is breaking. he is breaking. breaking fracturing falling apart in front of her held in her warm, gentle hands and here, dear sister : here is my distraught disturbed terrible heart, WILL YOU LOVE ME STILL?

        A TRUTH : barbara would never turn her back on him.         A LIE : barbara would never turn her back on him.

       ❝ babette, ❞ it feels like lifetimes since he had called her that. her hands are warm and gentle. they open their eye and it’s pouring outside, a torrential downpour, NATURE ITSELF mourning the death of a home. he grabs her hand / their grip is SO WEAK but it feels as though they’ll be lost to darkness if they don’t anchor himself to SOMETHING. her voice is an anchor / she is an anchor / so young and fresh and terrified / she is claws sinking into flayed flesh.

       ❝ diluc is... gone. ❞ oh, their voice breaks.

        when had he started crying? chest shaking / thawed scorched heart breaking / IT MAY NEVER STOP. it will never stop. he can never stop. forgive me forgive me forgive me / am i unforgivable? MY BROTHER THINKS SO. oh little sister, will you drag me to shore? i promise ( ... ) i’ll apologize later.

        we’ll see if that’s a lie.

#fluminas #❄ —— ice : refracting light ( in char ) #❄ —— last hope / looming winter ( main verse ) #do you ever essentially crawl to your little sister half dead #and proceed to try to act normal only to have a breakdown #hahahahahaha this is fine... obviously this is Perfectly Okay #hi tulip thank u for this dose of pain

[albrich]

        kaeya knows that look on her face ——— furrowed brows and a set mouth and unyielding shoulders. granted, it’s how jean often looks these days / a contrast to their youth when she had laughed easily and smiled broadly, though perhaps not as much of a contrast as some may believe. that tension in her shoulders is practically the same, the surefire sign of stress, the first that he had ever noticed on her all those years ago, family secrets and skeletons in the closet. so he throws her a wide, utterly at ease smile and seats himself on the couch, arms stretching across the back and legs crossing as he makes himself perfectly at home.

        it’s not as though he’s this couch’s most frequent occupant or anything. ( they are. )

        ❝ now, what’s gotten your brows so furrowed? they may end up stuck that way, you know, ❞ it’s a familiar tease, offered because it’s practically part of the script, at this point. the give and take they have and the roles that they bear and the things that remain unsaid between them, ear piercing silence ringing in the spaces between their words. ❝ is it the squires causing a ruckus again? an unexpected visitor coming to knock on our doors? ❞

@dandelionne​

#dandelionne #❄ —— ice : refracting light ( in char ) #❄ —— last hope / looming winter ( main verse ) #hehe

[albrich]

        ❝   ——— well, good morning, dorm head,   ❞   they offer a smile that rivals the sun to vil alongside a cheerful wave and, of course, his own company.   ❝   how wonderful that i’ve run into you this morning. shall we head to our first class together? it’s a wonderful day outside, we could even take the long route,   ❞   kaeya offers their arm / half—playful / half ——— well. they offer their arm, ever the show of charm with this one, hmm?

@uniquemagics​, for vil !!

#uniquemagics #uniquemagics : vil. #❄ —— ice : refracting light ( in char ) #❄ —— a heart / lost to winter ( twst ) #i guess i decided they have their first class together? #w.e. he's a 3rd yr in p.omefiore and that's the important info

[albrich]

       ❝ ——— now, albedo, ❞ was kaeya invited into the PERSONAL SANCTUM? no, not precisely, though he wouldn’t say that he’s entering uninvited, either ( except that, in all technicality, he certainly is : he just doesn’t care ) but rather, that he had simply been passing by and decided to, spur of the moment, burst into the laboratory, lean against the doorway ( ostentatiously, some would argue ) and give him a passably stern look, though it was certainly belied by the amusement in his eye. ❝ when was the last time you had a proper meal? it doesn’t do to be a shut in, you know. alchemy shall always be waiting, your stomach won’t be, ❞ he’s even wagging his finger / shame on you, albedo.

@lifesmold​

#lifesmold #❄ —— ice : refracting light ( in char ) #❄ —— last hope / looming winter ( main verse ) #hi u didn't ask for this but i'm kicking down ur door

[albrich]

@fluminas​ : ‘  i just want it to end.  i want it to all go away.  i want to go away.  ’ —— grave suggestions ( accepting )

        SUFFERING IS AN ARTFORM, he would know / he does it well. they recognize the signs, the symptoms, acknowledges the pathology which contributes itself wholeheartedly ( bleeding—heartedly ) to the disease process and, oftentimes, they watch it to its work. suffering is often elegant and when inelegant it is still a show, something to bear witness to and process in the aftermath / HIS OWN SUFFERING takes the form of a shapeless mass lying beneath the earth, places where the light is never meant to reach, shadowy  caverns and bodies writhing in agony, human but not quite. suffering takes the form of a brother’s back. suffering takes the form of a father’s abandonment. suffering takes the form of a mother’s encouragement. suffering takes the form of a father’s death, blood seeping / blood draining.

        she is a masterpiece in progress. suffering is an artform / she wouldn’t know and cannot know for all that she’s suffered and all that she’s seen and all of the parts of her heart that she had steadily pulled from her chest to lay them out beneath the unforgiving light of the sun and the pieces of her that she has dispersed amongst the winds. the god that she has prayed to / is not listening ( so sorry, anemo archon, are you there? no? well, i can hardly believe it ) / and she will know that suffering is an artform soon. soon, soon, too soon.

         ❝ have you had a long week, barbara? ❞ a rhetorical question : they know precisely what kind of week she’s had : long, tiring, and strenuous. he’d hardly be himself without keeping careful tabs on the handful of those who rank highest on their list of priorities ——— BARBARA lands on that list quite easily, never mind that she’s the easiest to keep track of by virtue of her profession, personality, and tendencies.

        IT’S AN INSENSITIVE APPROACH ——— this is a cry for help. another / another / another. barbara looks to the sky and pleads for miracles for freedom for the wind at her back and the vastness of the sky above her and when she awakes she bleeds herself dryer still for this city and its people. it’s a wonder that she still has any blood to spare at all, truly. but still : kaeya offers her a crooked smile, sprawled comfortably in the chair across from her.

        strange, that she’s fully grown. no longer the little girl who ran up to him, ecstatic that she lost a tooth, gleeful that the tooth fairy would visit her that night. no longer the little girl who would play games with him for hours on end. no longer the little girl who defended them tooth and nail when other children would poke and prod and demand to know what laid behind his varying eyepatches. no longer the girl who would raise her arms in wait of being carried on their back, laughing and cheering as they ran through the sprawling vineyards of the dawn winery. no longer the girl who he would proudly present a bucket full of sea shells that he and diluc had painstakingly found for both her and jean.

         yet she isn’t quite fully grown yet, is she?

        ❝ you could say that, ❞ barbara says, face pressed into her hands / exhaustion oozing from every last pore. the tea in her cup wavers / frost begins to form / melts again. she peers at him after a moment and it strikes him how she looks so much older and more weary than any seventeen—year—old should, peaking at him through her fingers, and kaeya feels that bone—deep compulsion to PROTECT HER ——— as good as their sister, their sister in all the ways that COUNT. dear to him. beloved.

         ❝ inazuma is rather lovely this time of year, ❞ he says without prompting after a few moments of silence, during which he watches as she pushes her cup around on its saucer absently, gaze forlorn, her classic glowing, sunny smile entirely absent. he’s lucky, he knows, that they’re able to see barbara absent of her defenses and walls and persistent happiness in the name of reassuring all those who DO NOT MATTER that all is well, she is well, et cetera. lucky, lucky. so very lucky. ❝ it’s rather late for what they call cherry blossom season, but other native plants are in full bloom and there are a great deal of festivals at this time of the year, ❞ there the famed CAVALRY CAPTAIN goes again, speaking at length about things that are seemingly disconnected, enjoying the sound of their own voice, a veritable fount of information about a great deal of things that do not matter at this particular moment. how strange he is / how bizarre their quirks are after all / how could a man so well respected and spoken be quite so DISJOINTED? just another aspect of kaeya known and adored, learned to be appreciated by the masses, yet. yet.

         KAEYA REMEMBERS EVERYTHING.

         he remembers well the first time that barbara mentioned inazuma : years ago, not so very long ago, a wistfulness in her tone and a light in her eyes that rivals only how she speaks to and about and around peony. the times that she has mentioned the place since, hopefulness blossoming in her heart as though in spite of herself ——— he remembers everything, remembers all. I WANT TO GO AWAY. soon, barbara, soon you will go away and perhaps never return, soon you will spread your wings and fly, free as the river’s current, able to change and become anew, to learn yourself true.

        remind her. remind her. remind her. you can leave, you can go away. simply do it, do it, do it. GO AWAY BEFORE THIS CITY DEVOURS WHAT’S LEFT OF YOU WHOLE, I COULDN’T STAND TO LOSE ANOTHER SIBLING.

        ❝ fascinating, isn’t it? ❞ he draws his finger around the rim of his cup, smiling at her broadly, watching as she blinks at him as though surprised. sweet barbara ——— will she learn to doubt him fully as she grows? or will she always be his trusting and sweet—hearted little sister? ( it hardly matters : they’ll love her either way. ) ❝ hmm, i do wish i could attend a midsummer festival in inazuma for myself, they say the fireworks displays are something meant to see for yourself. i suppose you will just have to do it for both of us. ❞

#fluminas #❄ —— ice : refracting light ( in char ) #❄ —— last hope / looming winter ( main verse ) #that's his SISTER baybee he's going to get her tf out of #mondstadt before it k*lls her one way or another he can't #just let her suffer and rot away in this city bleeding out #anyways this is nonsensical but i care them so much ok #q.

[albrich]

@lifesmold​ : ❛ kaeya, ❜ is really all the warning albedo gives them before a finger is looped through the loop of their collar, making sure the hold is tightly secured before dragging the taller of the two down / down / closer to albedo’s height so he could properly plant a kiss upon snow - loved lips. he keeps them there for a moment longer than the norm before pulling away, expression unchanging save for the light dusting of pink upon white chalk. ❛ you’re distracting me from my assignment. please be patient for a little while longer. ❜

        are they being more ( so—called ) insufferable than usual? oh, perhaps. some would argue yes while others would argue no. and still some would throw their hands in the air regardless. after all : THE EVER RESPECTABLE CAVALRY CAPTAIN simply tends to be more verbose and charming around a certain someone. oh, yes, some days when they walk into the laboratory they simply sit, whether in the windowsill ( his favorite spot, other than… well, you can use your imagination, can’t you? ) or on a chair, and read quietly alongside the sounds of work and papers rustling and glass tinkling and so on. but other days are simply like today. it’s not that he’s bored ——— how could kaeya ever be bored with albedo around, the thought is incomprehensible in and of itself ——— but rather that sometimes he simply wants all of albedo’s attention on him.

        it’s good for albedo, truly !! he works himself far too hard. and, on days when albedo is determined to ignore kaeya, or otherwise is on the verge of a breakthrough ( though on those days kaeya tends towards being quieter, deriving enjoyment purely out of watching albedo work ), it’s ( … ) stamina building.

        ❝ and our poor acting grandmaster is at her wit’s end, i’m afraid. she truly does work herself too hard, ❞ not subtle in the least, but it’s not meant to be subtle, either. not paired with kaeya leaning into albedo’s space, amiable—warm—sunlike smile on their face, hip leaning into the edge of his desk, palm bracing on top of the surface, fingers ( not purposefully at all, surely not ) overlapping some surely important documents. and, he continues, as if he couldn’t possibly be doing anything even moderately aggravating, ❝ i have been trying to advise her to take a weekend to herself, but you can imagine how she responds. mondstadt requires my presence——— ❞

        and : his mouth curves into a smirk at the sound of their name, though there isn’t even the slightly break nor pause in his words. no, not at the sound of his name, but rather when a finger loops into the metal ring on his collar, knuckles pressing against the fragile skin of their neck, oh so close to his trachea, and he bends. utterly obedient to the proceedings. honestly, he should make an attempt to stifle the smirk when albedo kisses him, but. well. it’s not as though albedo expects anything less.

        kaeya refrains from further touch. he thinks, fleetingly, of brushing the cold tips of his fingers against the back of albedo’s neck, of running his fingers through his hair and pulling it from its tie, of deepening the kiss further and further and further. but : he abstains from the desire, not to avoid ire, but rather to feed into the longing in his heart ( mirrored in albedo’s own, he’s more than certain ). they do say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, after all / and as kaeya has no desire to remain apart from albedo for terribly long stretches of time, playing at the concept is simply the best they can do.

        but he leans into the kiss / enjoys it / tilts his head in offering. their hand shifts on the table and papers whisper : the cavalry captain and the chief alchemist, they seem to whisper, the very walls themselves seem to murmur. albedo’s mouth is warm against his. utterly intoxicating, alluring and beautiful and glorious. some may argue that he had done quite a bit of legwork in order to get a simple kiss such as this, when he simply could have requested one or leaned in to kiss him, themself, but to kaeya it was ENTIRELY WORTH IT, sweetly breathtaking as sunrise across freshly fallen snow.

        a kiss that lasts longer than usual, but still far too short. kaeya could spend long hours kissing albedo, luxuriating in the press of their lips, feasting on him piece by piece, bit by bit, until they were breathless and there could be no one else in the entirety of the world but the pair of them, tangled in each other. days, perhaps ——— but they do not have the luxury of days, they hardly have the luxury of hours between the pair of them, and kaeya will take what he can get.

        they grin at albedo when the kiss ends / the smirk replaced by an undeniable happiness, though there is certainly smugness lingering at the corners / and inhale purposefully deep, pressing albedo’s knuckles harder against their own neck. ( something to consider for a later date, hmm? ) not for the first time he wishes that he had the same artistic talent as albedo ——— the flush on his face is exquisite / and kaeya is familiar with ADDICTION / and supposes that this is just another one atop the others.

        ❝ you can hardly blame me for being distracting if this is my punishment, ❞ a jibe, a tease, and they should tread carefully here, at least, lest albedo start coming up with other ways to punish kaeya for being distracting. it would be terrible if albedo simply ignored him for hours. ❝ but i think i’m sufficiently appeased, for the time being, ❞ their eye practically glimmers in the sunlight / he wants to settle himself against albedo / into albedo / what else is frost meant to do with clay?

        kaeya shifts the papers back into place without glancing at them for even a moment : albedo is the center of their attention, and he knows that he tends to be greedy. even with the mere sight of him. and he allows himself to lean in again, the collar around his neck pu—lling as he shifts lower and brushes their lips against albedo’s neck / frost lingering briefly in their wake / a quiet affection. ❝ don’t keep me waiting too long, albedo, ❞ his name rests like a promisewishdesire on their tongue and he straightens / and albedo’s finger unwinds from the metal loop / and wants with a sharpness that would be enough to leave many others breathless.

        but kaeya? kaeya simply grins, and walks to the windowsill, opens his abandoned book, and sits in wait. they know albedo won’t leave him waiting long, after all.

#lifesmold #❄ —— ice : refracting light ( in char ) #❄ —— last hope / looming winter ( main verse ) #i still don't have a tag for them... i rly should get on that #but anyways. this is gross. k.aeya is so annoying LOL #oh wow this is 1k huh. whoops.

[albrich]

        ❝ watch your step, ❞ the words are throw teasingly as he strides past / going arguably too quickly down the icy side of the mountain, warmer pastures and grassy greens lying far below ——— it’s not every day that kaeya catches sight of someone while preoccupied with other work, and far more rare that it’s someone he wants to speak to. of course he wants to speak to sylvain ——— why wouldn’t he? he has eyes and common sense : therefore he strides past sylvain and turns, thick soles of his boots scratching and not once slipping as he grins up at him, snowflakes caught in his eyelashes, his hair, gathering along the fur of his cloak. almost none of which melting as it touches their skin, mind you. ❝ what a pleasant surprise, running into you out here. fate sure has its whimsical ways, ❞ why bother to hide or skirt around their filtrations tone? utterly pointless, in their opinion / after all, it’s far more enjoyable to lean into his charming tendencies and cross that line when he knows it’s MORE THAN WELCOME. ❝ enjoying the cold? though, this isn’t much different than snezhnaya, is it? ❞

@heartsruin​ //  sc.

#heartsruin #❄ —— ice : refracting light ( in char ) #❄ —— last hope / looming winter ( main verse ) #welp... here we go?

[albrich]

        they glance at the impassive grey expanse of the sky and the snow that’s gathered on his skin ( unmelting, or rather, melting slowly, gathered on their eyelashes and remaining, collecting at their leisure, apparently feeling so utterly at home on the cold expanse of their body ) shifts. some falls, some remains, and he flexes his hand and feels ——— not numb. something nearby, shades away, nerves alight and threatening to deaden. he feels : TIRED / exhaustion pulling at every last cell in his body / but then, when doesn’t he? it’s easier to focus outward, away from the snow he shakes from his hair.

        easier to focus on slight shoulders hardly broadened by furs and cloaks, the fall of pale hair. sometimes he wonders at the protective impulse that overcomes him at the sight of her / WHAT IS SO DISARMING AS A LITTLE SISTER? he smiles, slightly, and pulls the feather half cloak atop his heavier, full one, and drapes it over his shoulders : here, little sister. what more can i offer you? he offers her one of his oh so rare genuine smiles. ❝ let’s get somewhere warmer, shall we? we’ll get frostbite, at this rate, ❞ or rather, she will. kaeya isn’t entirely certain if it’s IMPOSSIBLE for him to get frostbite ( he has a feeling it is, courtesy of an archon with a poor sense of humor ) but best not to test the whims of fate.

@fluminas​

#fluminas #❄ —— ice : refracting light ( in char ) #❄ —— last hope / looming winter ( main verse ) #no idea what they were doing or what's happening tbh for all i know smth terrible just happened or they were just going for a stroll or w.e.

[albrich]

@visionheld​ / @unblot​​, from diluc : ‘  it’s almost as if you were never here.  ’ —— grave suggestions ( accepting )

        ❝ perhaps i wasn’t, ❞ a smile plays on a painted face. this should be a moment caught in eternal ink, kept in the boughs of libraries only to be brought out once a decade for a showing, a viewing, such that appreciators of fine art may recall it with fondness and argue over the true meaning of it.

        here is the scene : two brothers stand before an empty manor at the dawn of a new day whereupon the sins of the day ( the night ) prior are washed away by the dim lavender morning light. they stand apart, flanked by either side of the gate which leads down the path that they had once trodden, ground well—loved by their hurrying feet, their footprints long since worn away by time and grief. they are the same / they are not : one burning bright as the sun and swathed in darkness, the other deep as night wrapped in layers upon layers of frost. one ( red red red as blood red as the blood they had once spilled for each other red as the blood that their father spilled when he died ) stares at the house, determined, perhaps, and the other? the other stares at his brother, a smile playing on his painted face.

        where can meaning be drawn? what is the intention of the artiste? is this careless brush strokes or everything infused with meaning? is this their first or hundredth meeting in the past year? is there truly tension in both shoulders whereas one brother is smiling as if this is the most relaxed they have ever been, or is that simply how the artiste painted automatically.

        ——— see? a moment meant to be caught in eternity.

        KAEYA LOOKS AT HIS BROTHER, ( oh brother mine it hurts it hurts it hurts to look at you ) and feels a bone deep compulsion / something ancient and long dormant tender and bleeding and frozen over, burning with warmth from the inside out but, oh. it’s far easier to lean into goading, into needling, into pulling at the threads that hold diluc together and just begin to unravel them but ——— not too far. never too far.

        ( here is the awful truth : they could tear their brother apart, they know precisely how. but then ——— doesn’t diluc know just how to tear him apart, too? )

        ❝ who could say, really? ❞ kaeya turns and begins walking towards diluc, their smile widens at the way that his brother’s shoulders raise, tensing even further. oh, brother mine, you’ll work yourself into a FIT at this rate. ❝ you said it yourself, after all : you haven’t the faintest idea who lived with you all those years, ❞ it tears at their throat to say. I AM YOUR BROTHER I’M YOUR BROTHER WE ARE ALL BUT TWINS OUR LIVES INTERTWINED ——— diluc looks at him sharply / in response to his words spoken aloud? or had he heard the screams? an echo chamber, words ricocheting, never quite landing never quite settling. they will bear their teeth at each other, fling venom at each other, but not strike. not again.

        he does not know what drew diluc to this place, to what once was their home, a monument to their unbreakable bond, and how humorous that is to think about now, indeed. a monument that has been torn down, broken, split into pieces and given away ——— perhaps it is fate which drew them here in the early morning light / kaeya can feel exhaustion pulling at his bones, can see the outline of the dark knight hero’s mask beneath diluc’s coat. silly boy. my ridiculous brother.

        there is that aggravation in his burning eyes. there is that thing that lingers nearby hatred / but kaeya knows that it is not hatred that lies between them. WOULDN’T IT BE SO MUCH EASIER IF IT WERE? if only he could despise diluc, despise the whole of mondstadt and all of its people, be what he was born to be ——— if only love, pure, simple, straightforward LOVE had not changed him so.

        ❝ isn’t that why you sold this place, our father’s manor? ❞ the distance between them closes with every step / widens with every step. perhaps they can never again cross that chasm. no, there is no perhaps about it. ❝ it was full of ghosts, wasn’t it, brother? ❞ FATHER / BROTHER ——— would you believe them if they said they do not say it to cut, but because here they can? because it has been years since he could look at this man FACE TO FACE and know, deep in his very marrow, that this is his brother?

        ( here is the awful truth : they would never dare tear their brother apart / their secret keeper / his sole confidante. )

        diluc begins to turn to him, face set in a determined fury which lingers just beneath his porcelain skin. strange, how he seems to translucent and fragile in this early morning light, where once diluc had seemed unbreakable and strong. the starry eyes of the younger sibling. he looks as though he’s preparing himself for a FIGHT / and kaeya brushes by him, their hand landing on his shoulder for a fleeting moment. ( he remembers, once, that he had clung to diluc every time he stepped foot outside, desperate for his stability, terrified of falling into the sky. a lifetime ago. an eternity ago. ) they know without looking, even without touch, that diluc leaned away from him ——— wary. untrusting. it would hurt, it would hurt, if only kaeya hadn’t expected it.

        what a mess we’ve made out of love, brother. what a mess we’ve made out of this family out of this home out of our father’s grave but we can never go back, can we? we would never choose to go back, would we? here i am ——— ME, MYSELF, MY TRUE SELF, here : peel back my layers and know the rotten depths of my truth and know that you’ll love me still. the way that i love you still, though you should be my enemy, though i should feel NOTHING FOR YOU. remember how we ran together there, in that yard? remember how you found me crying there, beneath that tree? remember how i carried you to our homestead where our father waited when you twisted your ankle just down the way? remember / remember / remember. because i remember EVERYTHING.

        ❝ but then i suppose it’s almost as if you were never there either, master diluc. ❞

#❄ —— we will keep these bodies out of love ( visionheld : diluc ) #visionheld #visionheld : diluc. #❄ —— ice : refracting light ( in char ) #❄ —— last hope / looming winter ( main verse ) #i'm tagging this as main but this feels a but precanon around then #diluc first returned to mondstadt after his three years away? but #anyways uhhh... well fuck !!! take all of this. sadness. ouch. #q.

[albrich]

        ❝ ——— come now, i have to check whether or not you’re bleeding, ❞ it would be, on the large, FAR KINDER of them to express such a concern without the face splitting grin on his face, but could you really blame him? waking up just in time to see your lover trip over a precarious pile of books, arms flailing, and crashing into yet another pile of precariously stacked books is hilarious. and quite the eye opener, they may not even need coffee, this morning !! but there’s hardly any need to judge, he hasn’t even started laughing properly and even extricated himself from the bed, crouching beside kaien, fingers combing through his hair, tilting so as to get a good view of his face. ❝ i’m not gifted with HEALING MAGIC, but i do know an excellent healer, if you’d like to see a certain deaconness, first thing in the morning. you may not even have to repeat the tale. ❞

@tomoge​

#tomoge #tomoge : kaien. #❄ —— ice : refracting light ( in char ) #❄ —— last hope / looming winter ( main verse ) #sorry i haven't stopped thinking abt this so i'm flinging this at u

[albrich]

@ahlite​ : ‘  i don’t ask how you’ve been.  what’s the point?  you’d lie anyways.  ’ —— grave suggestions ( accepting )

        ❝ so forthright !!   there’s a smile playing along his mouth, their gaze bemused, as though this odd traveler were saying such a thing in jest, as opposed to wholeheartedly, meaning and accusation underlying each and every word uttered. HER FACE IS EMPTY ( when isn’t it? oh : when they aren’t around him, of course ), gaze vacant, but perhaps there is a glimpse of near sadness. oh, what a concept / sadness, all for this glacial heart. “what must you think of me, to say such a thing?”

        the light meets the darkness and the darkness weeps : for it was never meant to encounter such a luminous glow, trapped beneath the bowels of the earth, buried amongst the abyss. the darkness meets the light and the light recoils : for there are places where even THE LIGHT cannot reach. sometimes they wonder if they know / that once upon a time, so very long ago, a small boy wearing an eyepatch cried at the light of the sun, terrified of it and the sprawling sky above, clinging to the shirtsleeve of his brother, yearning for the security of the earth above.

        she moves with hopelessness draped off of her shoulders, despair dragging with every step. he wonders what it was that broke them, remembers them as hopeful and bright / ODD and full of life / cryptic and weary and seeking, yearning for their BROTHER. ( oh, he’s familiar with such a thing / such a look. isn’t that the lot of the lost sibling? ) WHAT HAPPENED? where did that haunted longing come from? this loss of love / a brand of solitude that has embedded itself into their skin, impossible to pry apart.

        they would know. they would know. ( like knows like, after all. )

        KAEYA SPEAKS IN LIES : he’s a liar, a liar by trade, a liar by nature. lying was their second tongue, its secrets whispered into his ear by his father, nurtured by his mother, deep beneath the earth where THE LIGHT could never dream to touch. they speak in nonsensical truths and bizarre lies and more delicate fibs, fingers deftly weaving a web : wider and wider and wider, so immense that it would cover the whole of tevat and beyond, falling into darkness. LUMINE SPEAKS IN ABSOLUTES, as if she is condemning, as if they are passing judgment with every last thing that she says, with those vacuous eyes and that steadily dimming light.

        would he lie to them about this? ( isn’t it telling that he must ask himself that at all? ) something so innocuous as how are you? how have you been? will you draw the truth from me, drag it into the light? you truly shouldn’t, you know, the truth is best viewed in darkness. ❝ i hardly have a reason to lie to you, lumine, ❞ words lacking in inflection, simply spoken, who’s to say where the emphasis should be placed? i hardly have a reason to lie to you : no reason at all / but what’s a man made of lies to do?

        here is a shred of the truth : THEY WOULD LIE. ( what else could be said? oh, traveler : i am exhausted i am tired i am worn i am full of hatred and full of love in equal measure i crave absolution and the end of strife and the continuance thereof i yearn for my father but not the father whose blood runs through my veins and isn’t that a betrayal of my country and people yet i yearn for my blood, too, and isn’t that a betrayal of the family who loved me and i miss my brother terribly and don’t you understand that, too? i cannot remember when i last slept soundly when i last slept truly my country is in tatters of darkness and i cannot pull it into light because it is not meant for the light for you and your kin and your ILK. )

        ❝ if you’re so convinced, however, i suppose nothing i say could inform you otherwise, ❞ they say it as if they’re TEASING, a drawling smile on his face, thumb set below his bottom lip. “but you strike me as the sort to take risks,” a flash of teeth / a widening grin, ❝ so perhaps you should roll the dice, anyways. we could make a nice conversation out of it, even. shall i begin? how are you, lumine? i hope your travels have been treating you well. ❞

#ahlite #❄ —— last hope / looming winter ( main verse ) #❄ —— ice : refracting light ( in char ) #❄ —— a gentle presence of stars ( ahlite ) #ah this is... this certainly is #q.

[albrich]

        to say that he’s been looking for her would be something of an overstatement but nor would it be a false statement. there is a ring of truth to it, always and forever, in the way that could only ring true for an OLDER BROTHER. finding her has never been especially difficult for him besides, as though they were attuned to each other, as though playing hide and seek in the vineyard when they were children had taught him well. they watch her for a moment ( just a moment ) before his finger twists lazily in the air and frost begins to gather along the surface of the aquatic shape that barbara had conjured, causing it to glimmer. pretty. fragile. he strides closer but / keeps a distance : watching and gauging and waiting. their voice carries, playful on the ever present wind of their fair, rotting city. ❝ and what might you be up to? mora for your thoughts? ❞

@fluminas​ // sc.

#fluminas #❄ —— ice : refracting light ( in char ) #❄ —— last hope / looming winter ( main verse )

[albrich]

        ❝ ah, amber, just the outrider i was looking for, ❞ that smile on their face is often used for NEFARIOUS PURPOSES, to be entirely honest, but this time he has no ulterior motive. no, seriously ——— he offers her a jaunty wave with his free hand, what with the fact that his other one is rather preoccupied at the moment holding his BROKEN WINDGLIDER. ❝ i had a bit of a run—in with a nefarious tree, as you can see, ❞ ( lie ), ❝ and my glider is out of commission. you wouldn’t happen to know of anyone else skilled with fixing gliders, would you? lorelai has gone to the coast on vacation with her family, i’m afraid, and this is somewhat urgent. ❞ how’s a person to exist in mondstadt without a functioning glider, after all? it’s not as though kaeya doesn’t know every resident of mondstadt, and every woodworker and glider maker. no, not at all.

@outriiding​​

#outriiding #❄ —— ice : refracting light ( in char ) #❄ —— last hope / looming winter ( main verse ) #hi kai ♥ #it's me your leech-moss come to attach myself