#starlitpaths

[trailblczed]

Caelus, dear, I think you've booped me enoughー

❛ Mom you don't understand-- it's called "Grinding". I'm trying to get all the event rewards--! ❜

[17websmoved]

Hi! What's your turn around time for base icons?

Honestly, I don't have a specific turnabout time for icons. However, I can tell you that a pack of 100 icons at most will take a day for me, while 800-1000 icons may take me two weeks at most to finish.

[octoboltflash]

Leaning against the nearest wall, Acheron's sword lay propped up next to her as her eyes swept across the growing crowd of soldiers-- at least... those that weren't trapped on the other side of this strange bubble. It's almost as if they're stuck in the equivalent of a bubble universe from the Sea of Quanta, though she knows that this is different. To be reduced to mere actors in a stage play, yet still experiencing the full scope of emotion associated with pain and loss... a cruel fate. Her gaze settled on each one of her companions for a brief moment, her lips thinning into more of a grimace than anything else. These sorts of things, she had become used to. But the others still retained their humanity and at least some shred of their hearts, though it may be damaged. It was still theirs to nurture and grow, and to protect. To that end, she'd lend her blade. Another shouldn't fall to the death she's been resigned to.

@feliscus @dewdrip @unfxllenone @spidergourmet @starlitpaths

one life for one world

GHOverture24: Sword of Fate - Week 3

[secondsovereign]

"Ah, Welt! There you are! Good." Sidling up beside her starfaring companion, Himeko bites down the urge to smile all the more than she already is, briefly clearing her throat with a quick cough before fiiiiinally unveiling what she's been hiding behind her back this whole while.

In one hand, a frilly white and purple dress with a big red ribbon attached on the back. In her other, a pair of pink heels, coupled with roses of the same colour.

Her smile breaks into a big shit-eating grin insteadーone others usually wouldn't find on someone as "dignified" as the Navigator of the Astral Expressー as she thrusts the items into Welt's arms.

"Just one photo. Pleeーase?"

He knows that abomination in her hands far too well, a result of the last time he'd decided to drink with more than a single Kaslana, and one they'd sworn to destroy regardless of whoever fished it from the depths of the Sea of Quanta. Clearly, he'd have to ensure this particular monstrosity was destroyed before anyone got any more ridiculous ideas to put the three of them into it.

Welt doesn't need the cane for this, oh no, the synthetic black hole was of little use when it came to destroying the items being thrust into his arms. "Quasi Black Hole, to me!" An almost devious smirk as he watches the items be pulled inside the event horizon, stretched and torn until nothing remains of them but the afterimage, the small burst of power fading from sight in satisfaction at the latest meal. A blink, two, eyes returning to normal as he raised his head to face the overlapping images of two different Himekos.

"Alas, it would seem it's not to be." A short, content smirk on his face as he begins to brush past her, head held high as he begins to walk down the street and away from the scene of the crime. "Tell them, better luck next time." Oh no, he can count on one hand the number of people with the ability to pull that forbidden key from the depths of the Sea of Quanta, and none of them would have the satisfaction of seeing it used again.

[eluviannaa]

Previously: https://www.tumblr.com/eluviannaa/761678750111989760/ Another reply comes in shortly, handwritten parchment, enchanted and protected. "Dearest Eluvianna, Your kindness regarding sharing your findings touched my heart. I found way too often that those in higher academics gatekeep information just for the sake of it. Your work forges a community that I believe is necessary for our advancement. Please, keeping to the standard of discretion I feel we established early on, may I ask how many of us you know who heard this dark song? Have you had much success reaching out? Are they all focusing their energies on Azj-Kahet? I would lie if I wrote that the promise of the thrill of finding artifacts did not excite me. I would be honoured to take part in such research even with my current limited capability. I am able to run trials on location pattern recognition if rough co-ordinates of previous findings and suspected artifacts are known. I reckon the state of vegetation mentioned might be a good indicator of unusual activities. I find it fascinating to think of a world outside of our capabilities to imagine, it always reminds me how much knowledge must be out there that our mind cannot comprehend. Yet.

Stay vigilant. With utmost respect and gratitude, Your sister in Prudence and Philosophy, Ariel Starlitpath P.S. the loud haze on my mind is lifting, however slowly. A step is a step. Hopefully I can be more at your service once finished.

Sister Starlitpath,

Truly, collaboration offers more than blindly clinging to hubris. In this, an open mind invites strength, to say nothing of our scholarly duty to the unknowable. I value such alliances in all things, and with your candor, offer my sincere respect.

The echoes seem attuned to those sympathetic to the shadows, though my knowledge is limited by association. But in this, much is to be considered with the strength of my kin. However, the song harbors no bias.

Those whose focus lies in Azj-Kahet are presented with immediate opportunity, though it is still found broadly across the Ringing Deeps. From the benign of flora to the misguided collectives who would oppose us. Though below the surface, this thread appears to connect us all.

Efforts to fully unravel this weave is a worthy pursuit, perhaps even the most pressing.

I myself now prepare to explore the guarded rumors, particularly among more sympathetic Nerubians. Those whose alliances grow fragile amidst a shift to obscure purpose within their leadership. The labyrinthian bazaar and its artifacts, and the sentient blood that remains a path still feared by even the most dedicated among us. In such matters, perhaps we may find opportunity for partnership.

In mutual purpose,

Eluvianna Umbralstar

[astroshivaanagh]

Consulting with Astro Shiva Anagh offers guidance and solutions, maintaining confidentiality while addressing the root of problems. #AstroEnthusiast #CosmicInsights #StarlitPath #AstroSolutions #DivineAstrology #AstrologyJourney #AstroVibes #HoroscopeLove #StarryEyes

[dewdrip]

@starlitpaths | from here

"All by yourself? Why, that is nonsense, madam! I am strong enough to help you a thousand more days!"

She makes her triumphant declaration, looking out into the audience area. She lets her words linger in the air for a moment, for impact, then steps up onto the platform to share Himeko's light. Upon seeing her bent knees, Bailu quickly puts herself under the lady's arm and hoists her upward—as much as she can hoist given her stature, anyways.

"You are lonely, madam. Your body—" she pointedly looks at Himeko's legs, "—has failed you, and so has the rest of the world. Your garden no longer blooms. Your flowers, your bushes… they are very misérables. But you don't have to live like this. Not when I'm here…"

 After her line, there is silence. Blue eyes shift nervously around. Had she gotten the cue wrong again? Before she can throw another line in a panic, a lone piano note plays. Bailu nods, then takes a deep breath. She begins to sing.

Life in our little town has never been so kind We live through bad days everyday and say that we don't mind. But in our hearts we know the truth, we know the things we feel! So don't say no, dear mademoiselle— your 'no' cannot be real!

It's by no means a stellar performance. But we all know the thing about shows and going on, yes? The piano continues to play as Bailu recites the next of her lines. "I see your sadness, madam. I see it everyday that I fly past, and it breaks my heart! Oh, won't you let me tend to your garden? Or brew your tea leaves, or—" her face pinches: she may or may not have forgotten something, "or do something else! Whatever! Please?"

oh, mademoiselle!

[ what, who, where — scene 1 ]

[trailblczed]

LOUD CONCERNED NOISES.

[secondsovereign]

Welt, I got you a shirt. Please put it on.

The man squints at the shirt, entirely convinced that this was something that Bronya had once shoved into his face and described as a Me-me. Yet... it didn't stop him from letting the amused sigh fall from his lips as a hand reaches to remove the armor plate he'd rarely removed since embarking. "Something tells me questioning this would be an irrational use of time-" And yet even now he couldn't refuse to embrace the whimsicality of the me-me as the shirt replaces the sheet of plating.

[secondsovereign]

@starlitpaths asked:

[PHOTO OP]- Ready to best capture the occasion, there are countless photographers and photo booths stationed around the city. All it takes is a little mora and those fond memories can be preserved for eternity!

“ Ah, there you are. ” It would be a miracle if he even heard her voice above the lively festivities around them, so Himeko forgoes waiting for him to turn around. Instead, she slipped her hands around his arm, gently but decisively steering him toward one of the many booths that lined Fontaine’s charming streets before he could even ask where they were headed. It had taken her longer than expected to spot him, truth be told. Welt always had a knack for blending into his surroundings despite his composed, distinguished air—the complete opposite to the kids, who seemed to only draw people’s attention even in their attempts to keep a low profile. Feeling him look over, perhaps a bit surprised, she huffed out a laugh and gave his arm another tug. “ Just one photo. ” She flashed a smile, “ To remember the festival by. ”

-> TEYVAT was less of a trailblazing expedition and more of an overdue vacation in his eyes, a trip for the nameless to unwind after the seriousness of the past few months. He'd already lost count of the time spent among the fellows of the Fontaine Research Institute, while the cinema festival rapidly approached. The former Herrscher still regularly met with the nameless for coffee, of course, but time spent in a lab among scholars always seemed to clear him mind, a needed reprieve in the wake of Penacony's endless revelations and heartbreaking reunions.

Still, he can't refuse an invitation to spend a day amidst the revelries, to walk the stalls that a younger him would've spent an astronomical amount of money upon. It's through that reclamation of those halcyon days as Professor Joachim Nokianvirtanen that he's forgetting more and more the reason he wore those false glasses, forgoing them in the place of contacts that gave him a much more welcome visage. Even his scarf is of a much more subdued colour, closer to the one he'd worn as the head of Caltech's Space Engineering department than his trailblazing attire, an unsubtle change yet one that he can't resist making.

He's straining his eyes, taking advantage of his height to look over the crowd in search of the woman that had seen fit to invite him for the fifth day of festivities. They'd kept in touch during their reprieve, a necessity when he'd taken up working in a remote part of the nation, just far enough away from the city to avoid the lingering memories of St. Freya it seemed to invoke whenever he was least expecting the shades of the past to worm their ways into his vision. Musings for another day, perhaps, when he was ready to face his yearning for home in full, perhaps Teyvat would be a welcome retirement when all was said and done, a place to embrace the role of a teacher he never truly looked at the same.

The musings, it seemed, were too much of a distraction, feeling an arm interlinking and tugging him towards a photobooth. He'd been too distracted, overwhelmed by familiarity of location and the sea of crimson hair, to stop the words before they can escape his lips. "Miss Murat--" A lurch, the phrase stopped before the damage can be done by a dormant memory of an all too familiar situation. A hint of a prior life, of a professor pulling a prized student towards the camera for a tradition he'd set in stone years before, except this time he was the one reluctant to catch himself in frame.

"Himeko..." exasperated with a hint of amusement, like he was laughing at a joke that only he knew as he followed her lead towards the ever eager photographer. It's a biding time, watching with a hint of awareness before a hand comes up to ruffle her hair on instinct, memorialising a moment that he'd never in his wildest dreams hoped to correct. "Just to memorialise the occasion."

It's every teacher's dream to see their student surpass them to greater and greater heights, after all.

[eluviannaa]

Original Letter: https://www.tumblr.com/eluviannaa/761073194407985152/ Eluvianna's letter does not remain unanswered for long, she soon receives a beautifully handwritten piece of parchment. Although a reply is meant to find it's way back, it is protected against sympathy, a form of spells, that could enable one to read the letter without opening it based on the thoughts and feelings of the author imprinting on the object. Discretion, just as asked.

„Dearest Eluvianna, Your letter found me rather unexpectedly. It is comforting to know that there is an abundance of us being able to reach a supraliminal state and may have heard the calling. Although clearly distinguishable from all the noise, I admit my current state of conscience cannot decipher the whispers for them being overcast by louder voices I recently invoked upon myself.

However, learning that I may not be the only one, added many layers to my intrigue. I was hoping that you could share your findings and research on the matter. Based on my readings of the ancient (and almost lost) personal notes of Archmage Fyrsa, knowing what to look for may shine light revealing the colors of the threads my mind tries to untangle in the dark. In the meantime, my top priority is to douse the thundering cries before my sanity collapses to be the most useful for our brothers and sisters in Science and Lightlessness. Your reply is much awaited. You can count on my discretion, I have an impression that this is far more important than most can comprehend. With utmost curiosity, Ariel Starlitpath”

To Ariel Starlitpath—

I thank you for your prompt reply, indeed we find ourselves in uncertain times. I sense that your intent, though veiled, holds the same urgency that drives my own inquiry. To say nothing of my own call to melody. I find myself experiencing something akin to headache, far too often now to be considered coincidence. But what you have shared, and the means by which you chose to do so, suggests that you understand this deeply.

As for my research, there are whispers of a bazaar deep within Azj-Kahet where dark relics are sought by those who trade in secrets. This labyrinth, highly guarded, is a place where objects, much like the sigil you describe, find their way into the hands of those willing to follow its rumors.

The sigil you encountered may be connected to these items—artifacts that shift and pulse with a life their own. And I suspect there are more, scattered beneath Azj-Kahet, still waiting to be discovered. Though I have heard disturbing reports of local flora affected by that which burrows deeper still. My efforts are ongoing, but I believe they are fragments of a greater pattern. One that spans far across the reality we know.

I invite further correspondence, should you wish it. Though I understand if your research keeps you preoccupied. The balance we walk is delicate. It is rare to find another so aligned in thought and purpose. Your continued discretion is requested, as I extend my own in this reply.

With consideration,

Eluvianna Umbralstar

-

📜 A reply to, A curious missive finds its way to you, here.

[octoboltflash]

As expected, it's always the calm before the storm. In the moments between life and death, when a soul drifts in the abyss, there is nothing to greet them but deafening silence. That same quiet is what meets her now as her hand slowly moves to grip the hilt of her odachi, eyes falling closed for the few precious seconds they all have before the chaos of battle erupts like a flame.

It doesn't matter who- or what- stands before her. All will eventually rest upon the earth, and her sword exists only to cut; what purpose does a weapon hold if it is not used? Existence is fleeting and short-lived-- but she will fulfill her role to the end, ushering wandering souls to a better fate... and such kindness extends to her enemies as well. "This is where it ends." Arcs of purple lightning leap from the edge of Naught's saya, humming with a crackling, vibrant energy. It's the only warning given before Acheron leaps forward with a sudden movement, her sheathed blade slicing through the air with breathtaking speed. The biggest hulking creature is her initial focus, sparks flying as her blade makes contact with the glowing yellow shield-- every movement flashes bright with the might of her thunder, almost as if her steps were choreographed long before this war took place. A sidestep, a duck, a counter; this battlefield has become her canvas, her odachi acting as her brush as she seeks to paint the ground red. Everything comes to a near halt as she lowers herself into an offensive stance, a faint scarlet hue beginning to creep up the expanse of her arm-- it moves almost as if it's a living thing, enveloping more and more of her until it covers the entirety of one limb. The color drains from her hair much in the same way life would bleed out of a wounded soldier, her eyes falling shut as her figure becomes haunted by the glow of crimson that radiates from her. A single, fluid motion and her blade is unsheathed high above her head- as she swings it, the slice cuts through not only the fabric of reality, but through the very core of her enemies, each strike leaving behind a lingering trail of blood-red light... as if she were severing the very threads of life itself.

Naught has received its name for a reason, functioning as a harbinger of destruction and despair. Her pallor slowly returns to its normal shade, the crimson begins to fade, small veins of scarlet slowly shrinking into nothing as Acheron moves to sheath her odachi once again.

She's no longer human, she's long since come to accept that. Perhaps she's not the only one to realize it-- a ravenous beast in the midst of chaos, fangs dripping red with blood that isn't her own.

@starlitpaths @unfxllenone @spidergourmet @dewdrip @feliscus

one life for one world

GHOverture24: Sword of Fate - Week 3