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[melodicbreeze]

elegy

[melodicbreeze]

@orecrowned replied to your post:

Morax simply sits down, grabs the bard’s hands and places them in his soft, fluffy hair.

There's a laugh, but it's a quiet one as Venti complies with the silent request. He drags his hands through Morax's hair, letting his (blunt, unlike the other's) nails drag along his scalp before switching to rub circles.

"I'm just glad that you don't make me sneeze, even though you act so much like a cat."

[melodicbreeze]

“Adore me.”

That.... sadly, isn't even a surprise to Venti anymore. He's truly growing used to Morax's odd requests.

"Oh? And how do you want me to do that? You gave me a shove the last time I tried to give you a kiss, and I'm in no hurry to repeat that."

[melodicbreeze]

points gun at. how dare you.

oh god, call an ambulance--

BUT NOT FOR ME ! ! ! !

[melodicbreeze]

"I'm trying to fix your hair, so told still!" (Klee)

Well now, he couldn't ignore such a sincere request, could he? Even if her hands were a bit clumsy and tended to tug on his hair. Venti laughed anyway, dutifully keeping himself still for the child.

"Thank you for the help, dear Spark Knight. You truly embody that title, to stop to help take care of little ol' me. How about after you finish, we go and find some ribbons so I can return the favour and tie a bow in your hair?"

[melodicbreeze]

&. 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬.

( this is basically just a very self indulgent list of various fluff, angst, and suggestive themed dialogue sentence starters. )

❛ i could keep you safe. they’re all afraid of me. ❜

❛ i’m trying to fix your hair, so hold still. ❜

❛ your heart is beating so fast right now. ❜

❛ promise me you’ll still be here when i wake up. ❜

❛ you’re not as bad as everyone says you are. ❜

❛ i thought you’d like some company. ❜ 

❛ clean yourself up. you're getting blood all over the place. ❜

❛ here, give this a try and tell me what you think. ❜

❛ you can kiss me, you know. ❜

❛ come back to bed. ❜

❛ you look good like this. ❜

❛ working together again, it’s just like old times. ❜

❛ how is it you always know what i need, huh? ❜

❛ you’re lucky you got away with only a scratch. ❜ 

❛ i can’t imagine losing someone like that. i’m sorry. ❜

❛ you know you can always talk to me. ❜

❛ the only one who gets to kill you, is me. ❜

❛ so, what do i owe this pleasure? ❜

❛ ah, so you aren’t heartless after all. ❜

❛ may i have this dance? ❜ 

❛ it’s okay, you can touch me. i won't break. ❜

❛ enemies make the best lovers, you know. ❜

❛ hold still. this might sting a little. ❜

❛ we can't keep doing this. ❜ 

❛ you look like you've got something to say. ❜

❛ just relax and let me take care of you. ❜

❛ thought you’d be lighter without all that blood. ❜

❛ i had it under control. you didn’t need to do that. ❜

❛ everything looks so beautiful from up here. ❜

❛ you treat all your ladies like this? ❜

❛ well? how do i look? ❜

❛ can’t sleep? ❜

❛ do you mind if i smoke? ❜

❛ i’m scared of ending up alone. ❜

❛ i don’t think i’ve ever seen you smile. ❜

❛ how long has it been since you've slept? ❜

❛ you are losing my interest, and that’s very dangerous. ❜

❛ i’d suffer hell if you’d tell me what you’d do to me tonight. ❜

❛ you look really pretty right now. ❜

❛ i’ve never cared for anyone the way i care for you. ❜

❛ i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know. ❜

❛ just a few more stitches and you’ll be as good as new. ❜

❛ i’d say we make a pretty good team. ❜

❛ i want you to forget this ever happened. ❜

❛ i'm here for business — not pleasure. ❜

❛ if i didn't know any better, i'd say you were jealous. ❜

❛ you'd look better down on your knees. ❜

❛ fine, keep acting like you hate me. ❜

❛ kiss me again. ❜

❛ are you asking me out on a date? ❜

❛ just sit there and look pretty and let me handle this. ❜

❛ you okay? caught you staring off into space again. ❜

❛ well, i do feel better now that you're here. ❜

❛ i'm not drunk enough for this. ❜ 

❛ why is it whenever we see each other, you’re covered in blood? ❜

❛ i was wrong about you. ❜ 

❛ the first time i met you, i had no idea you'd mean this much. ❜

❛ you gonna be a good girl / boy for me? ❜

❛ i’m not afraid of you. ❜

❛ books mean more to me than people anyway. ❜

❛ i just wanted to say thank you for protecting me. ❜

❛ how about a kiss goodnight? ❜

❛ i don’t have time for distractions right now. ❜

❛ you shouldn’t be out here by yourself. ❜ 

❛ if i have to think about one more thing today, my head will explode. ❜

[melodicbreeze]

"Oh, you have nothing to apologize for!" Venti gave a smile, hoping to ease some of the tension the other might be feeling. "If I had to apologize every time I wasn't in top shape, I fear I'd go hoarse! Certainly not something that's good for a bard." Would conversing help? Or was silence better? He wasn't sure.

"How have you been, Xiao? Well, aside from right now, I mean. I hear some people have pestered you into opening up a bit more. I was quite surprised to hear you stopped in for a bit during the poetry class Director Hu and I held. I thought we might have scared you off."

Admitting to weakness is never not a foolish thing, particularly so in front of a god. Xiao has experienced enough hardship at the hand of those stronger than he, but he also owes his life to the archon in front of him. Lord Barbatos is not one to take advantage of Xiao's pain, and the utmost certainty he feels in this assessment makes Venti one of the very few people he would lower his guard around.

Xiao sits, following Venti's words precisely because he knows there is no command in them. "I apologize...for this display." He would like to hide away until the pain lessens, but staying like this isn't a bad option. It's far from the worst.

[melodicbreeze]

Though others may be put off by such a down to business attitude, Venti can only appreciate it in the situation. He doesn't know how he'd react to a gentle approach, nor does he want to find out. All he knows is that it would probably end in disaster. He complies with the instructions, trying to not curl his wings to fidget with his feathers while he sat.

"Mm, I tried to get them as close as I could to a bird's when I took this form, but I didn't know everything about them at the time." Eugh, the thought of pulling feathers.... it wouldn't be pleasant, that was certain.

"They would heal, but I think it'll be easier if, ugh, they're removed. New ones will grow, yes. Thankfully I don't rely solely on them, in the way a bird does, so it doesn't matter if I have to wind up being grounded for a bit." If only they had healed during his centuries long sleep... but he had had no solid form to be healed, simply elements on the wind.

"You won't cause any permanent damage, nor will any of them bleed. Do what you must, alright? I won't be upset with any course of action you may take, Master Diluc. I trust your decisions."

It seems Venti had quite a few preconceived notions of the young master. Diluc just watches as he frantically runs towards the offered drink, then suddenly calms down after a sip and rubs his cheeks against the warmth of the mug. Once he disappears into the bathroom pointed out for him, the redhead can't help but compare his actions to that of children who come into the bar for a hot drink on cold days-- the only difference being one was hot chocolate and one was hot wine.

Alone in the room. Diluc decides to take off his vest and accessories, leaving himself in his pants and shirt, and folding the sleeves above his elbows. He wasn't sure how the other would react, but if he was anything like his falcon and if his wings were larger, his clothes were not surviving this.

Next, he locates the spray bottle he uses for his pet's bath time if it ever needs help. Although small, he supposed he could work in sections if necessary.

It wasn't long after he found the bottle when he heard the other's voice from behind the door. With a soft knock, he opens the door and walks in.

What had he expected, really...?

Not a large span of pure white, covering half the bathroom or maybe more. There was surprise in his eyes because he expected some grime and dirt, but this. Damaged feathers and some barely hanging between messy clumps, the obvious wear has him blink once, twice, then turn his head away, the spray bottle put aside as he just reaches for a stool and puts it right behind him.

"Sit here."

God. He's really his god.

Hmm.

"What do you want me to do with your broken feathers?" He asks now, waiting for him to get comfortable. "I don't know how your wings function." Once he's close, he hovers bare hands over the appendages, reluctant to touch until he's sure what he's working with. But aside from the obvious mess, it was quite fascinating. This was definitely a new experience; one that he was intrigued enough to go along with. "If I patch them in place, will they heal with time, or can I assume they need to be pulled out?" Does he molt? "Do you grow new feathers?"

[melodicbreeze]

[melodicbreeze]

Well, if he had known that would be the reaction...

[melodicbreeze]

Oh ya forgot to post this colored doodle

[melodicbreeze]

I wanted to try my hand at a mermaid Venti/Barbatos!

[melodicbreeze]

Bolts tf up

I forgot. It's Mermay. I must break out my mermaid Barbatos design.

[melodicbreeze]

It was a sudden action, one that hadn't much thought to it as if it were simply done on a whim. A dark hand comes out from behind the Bard; clawed fingers brushing against fair skin of the other Archon's neck as the palm pressed firmly against his throat for a moment.. before sliding up to his jaw and tilting Barbatos' head up and back to look up at him.

"Hello, Bard. Will you sing a pretty song for me?"

Perhaps he had been letting his guard down too much. That was the thought that Venti had, anyway, when the presence behind him that he'd idly noted had come up to grab him.

Archons, this man was going to kill him one day.

If he had a pulse, he was sure it would've skipped a beat (or two), as whatever Venti was going to say died on his lips. He fell still, not unlike prey freezing, before that had slid up to make him look at Morax.

His braids glowed in a true blush.

"I, uh, haa." How could he sing when just simple words failed him so? "U-um, what, what song would you like...?"

[melodicbreeze]

"More do than one would think, especially when it comes from some place like Mond, as sleepy as we seem." In such a way, the nation reminded Venti of a bird gliding across the surface of Cider Like- at one look, it seemed like a leisurely swim, unless you knew how hard they kicked their feet to do such a thing.

Ah, but he digressed.

"I don't find such a thing unsurprising coming from you, however! Your reputation proceeds you, after all, and it isn't one that speaks to someone who would take things like that lying down."

Oh? His back straightens on his seat, the upper half of his body turning ever so slightly to better face the bard. The fragment of history he shares is not unheard of, nor inherently... secret, but the value of it being told from one such as himself is too great to ignore. The Eleventh's attention is piqued, as it's become obvious.

He forfeits affixing the entirety of the conversation to word play or the unnecessary calling of what he perceives as contradictions. Their understanding is similar, period. This is the ironic reality of it all, to what Tartaglia's shoulders relax at, border on slumping against the backrest of his seat to assimilate. Through a new sip of his apple juice, he smiles, and breaks his silence. ❛ That's tragic, but it tracks. Prefer destruction over lack of freedom, that is. ❜

[melodicbreeze]

It's a dangerous game to shave parts of your head and cut your hair when you can't wear your glasses all the time and have Fucked Vision.

[melodicbreeze]

"My now, are you saying you doubt my creativity? I've written quite the number of songs, I'll have you know!" It's a challenge if he's ever heard one. Venti, though not normally one to rise to prodding, finds he doesn't see the harm in going along with it just this once.

Something original, and something darker. Free from ever present gaze back home, perhaps he could indulge in the dirge that had yet to see the light of day.

And so, he sung.

The god sung of the nation trapped underground, determined to live their lives free from control of the gods. He sung of the corruption that sank into the world, and found its way to that civilization to fester.

He sung of the people that were vilified, struck down by those gods, even though they fought to help keep that corruption at bay.

There were no heroes, not in that war. There was no such thing as right and wrong, only pain, only blood. It gave way to a sea of such things, until even the moon itself turned crimson as it watched in horror.

The song wound to an end, even though the words themselves wondered if there ever would be an end; after all, was it not only the last repetition in the never ending cycle?

Silence fell, and Venti took a breath for the sole reason of steadying himself. He'd played the tune on his lyre, countless times before, but he had never dared to sing the lyrics where they might hear.

"I do hope that didn't fall too awfully short of your expectations, sir."

the  laughter  earns  a  sour  look  —  as  if  he's  bitten  directly  into  a  lemon.  (  or  anything  that  isn't  an  exposed  throat,  for  that  matter.  )  ❝  i  see. ❞  the  spawn  quips  dryly.  ❝  so  you  aren't  afflicted  with  a  curse  so  much  as  you  are  the  curse  incarnate.  well,  that's  good  to  know. ❞   though  fickle  being  that  he  is,  such  a  dreary  mood  is  quick  to  abate  as  the  change  of  subject  manages  to  snag  his  attention.

request  a  song,  he  offers  —  and  though  astarion  isn't  particularly  fond  of  bard  and  their  ilk,  he  is  greedy  even  for  these  impermanent  things.  the  quip  about  being  unfamiliar  with  local  tunes  does  earn  an  arched  brow,  but  the  elf  makes  the  deliberate  choice  not  to  pry.  (  though  if  the  temptation  dangles  there,  like  a  loose  string  begging  to  be  pulled.  )  he  just  went  on  and  on  about  the  sanctity  of  keeping  their  respective  secrets,  after  all.  he  can't  exactly  go  back  on  that  now.  in  any  case,  ❝  ugh.  most  of  the  usual  tavern  crooning  isn't  exactly  to  my  tastes  anyways. ❞  too  many  sickeningly  saccharine  tales  about  heroes  and  adventure  and  what  have  you.  tired  cliches  that  try  to  scrub  away  the  grimy  reality  of  the  world  they  live  in.  (  praises  sung  over  the  cries  countless  other  souls  left  to  rot,  unseen  and  unsaved,  in  the  dark.  )  that  all  too  many  of  them  serve  as  background  music  to  the  years  spent  drifting  through  seas  of  drunks  like  bait  speared  on  a  hook  do  little  to  endear  astarion  to  any  of  them.  no,  he  would  prefer  to  go  without.

gaze  then  flicks  to  his  companion.  the  spawn  raises  a  hand  to  his  chin,  slight  sway  to  his  body  language  —  almost  playful.   ❝  if  you're  going  to  insist  on  playing  a  tune,  why  not  make  it  original?  put  all  of  that  rhyming  to  good  use. ❞  a  faint  smile  peeks  between  his  fingers,  sharp  as  a  dagger's  edge.  ❝  something  with  a  little  blood  and  grit  for  the  rest  of  us. ❞