#amalgam garnet

[gb-37]

Amalgam AU (Part 4)

Part 1

[boundinparchment]

Let’s Fall Silent

He was created as a companion to a capricious dawn; rejected, he haunted the waters of Snezhnaya until he grew bored. Saved by a foolish inventor, he wonders if there is more to life than his rejected purpose.

Or: whatever happened to that merman Dottore segment?

Sequel to my fic, “Endless.”

RATING EXPLICIT. MINORS DNI. ON AO3 HERE.

Water rushed through his gills and oxygen flooded his system in steady, rolling waves.  He didn’t need to breathe but yet his body seemed perfectly suited to do so, yearned to.

He looked down, the shining blue scales of his tail resembling stones he knew only in name and vague understanding.  Knowledge that was not his but readily given, as if he’d already read ten thousand books.  Webs between his fingers were gossamer thin and yet seemed to catch and push water as if made of the strongest steel blades.  

His fingers looked as if he’d dipped them in the reflections of the night sky, scales shimmering and shifting with the light.  

There was a weight on his right ear, a glass tube that seemed to contain a type of water.  Touching it sent faint shockwaves through his fingers and head, voices echoing distantly.

He assessed his surroundings: a tall man with blue hair and a white coat, eyes hidden; a clear boundary between them; a flicker of sunset out of the corner of his eye.  The creature titled its head, the fins on either side of his head flitting with the motion.  

Creator.  Right.  His image was almost identical to the bipedal human before him.  Intended for…

He turned his head, garnet eyes falling in the direction he felt another presence.

A flash of a memory—not his—told him everything.

Rejected without ever having a chance.  The dawn would kill him for carrying out his purpose if he ever so much as approached her.  Understandably so.  Sensations welled up inside him, foreign and intruded upon, not his to feel.  Although the man on the other side of the glass (yes, that was the word) had made him, he was nothing but a vessel for wish-fulfillment.  A bridge built to cross a too-large gap.

His Creator was a curious man.  Whether he wanted to see the dawn’s reaction to the addition to her tank or because he was too far along in the process to stop didn’t matter to the finned mirror image.  The result was the same.  The merman was awake and contained every awareness that already, the tides had changed. 

An existential crisis was not on the agenda.  There was still plenty more to do.  An entire world outside of this tank.  The dawn came from somewhere, of course, and water was the necessity for all life.

He swam, gauged how far to move his arms and the proper movements of his tail.  Easy, fluid motions that allowed him to cut through water came from somewhere deeper than muscle memory.  Base instinct left little room for error.

“Our observation time is short, Nadir.  How do you feel?” 

The voice did not vibrate the water in the same fashion other sounds did.  The Creator’s mouth did not move as it did with her.  It felt as if the words floated in his mind like driftwood waiting to be collected.

And what was it he was called?  Nadir?  He was named?  Given an…identity?

He wracked his pre-filled memory banks.  The merman held back the biting laugh that threatened his lungs for a moment.  An amalgamation of both living creatures and he was named after the lowest point of the sun’s daily descent in the sky.  Arguably, he was also the lowest point in his Creator’s infatuation, given her blatant rejection of his attempt to give her companionship.

The man stared, awaiting a response.  His patience was thinning, lips pressed together.

“I am…fine.  I experience no pain.  I can see, hear, breathe, and move,” the Segment spoke.  

The sounds were strange and guttural and his mouth moved in unnatural motions.  His vocal cords did not like it.  They felt too loose and lacked control over the sounds.

“Can you not respond without moving your lips?  Without making a sound?” His Creator asked.

The merman, for he was beginning to understand the differences biologically and his own identity in more depth, schooled his expression and focused.  He tried to feel anything beyond himself, than the water on his skin that rippled his fins and the hum of the filtration system and the low hissing from the far corners of the tank network.  He could see his Creator, sense his presence in a physical understanding of him occupying space facing the tank.  Whispers crept up into his ear and throughout the base of his skull but it was akin to the way his Creator once pressed an ear to a closet door as a child.

One way.  He could listen and observe, distantly, but he could not partake.

All the better, really, Nadir considered.  The others were very loud and boisterous and clambering for attention.

The only attention the merman wanted was that of his intended companion.

But he was not eager to have his existence snuffed so quickly.

When Nadir did not reply, and instead shook his head, the man on the other side of the tank brought a hand to his lips.  Silence dominated.

Until the Creator’s shoulders rose and fell in a single motion when he reassessed what the Segment could only assume were notes. 

“Perhaps it is the medium required for your physical form that prevents the connection.  I had to make several modifications to account for waterproof mechanisms.  Sound travels differently in water.  It stands to reason that water would slow other waves down as well…”

The bipedal man dropped the papers with a flick of his wrist, uncaring and bored.  They were worthless now, in the face of recent events.  He approached the tank, arms behind his back.

“I am otherwise quite proud of this particular specimen, Fjar.  If he were to reside in the far reaches of the waters here, or live elsewhere, would you object?”

Ah, so that was her proper name.  The word was familiar, danced across his mind when he recalled memories of a name and another land.  Once again, none of it his .  Nadir had not existed properly until roughly twenty minutes ago.

The dawn spoke, her voice made for water, beautiful as the sunrise she represented.

“As long as he stays far away from me.  From us .  Your work is appreciated, my Zandik, but you know how I feel.  I will have you , not an imitation of you.  He will be safe provided he never approaches me.”

Nadir stared at his Creator, who raised his head a fraction before removing his mask.  Eyes as red as a blood moon watched the Segment in return.  Exhaustion tugged at the skin beneath his eyes and Nadir caught a flicker of hurt well-hidden behind a cold and calculating demeanor.

“There is no shortage of food and means to occupy yourself past the hole in the ice,” the man called Zandik said.  “Her territory does not extend past that delineation.  She has never been one to stray far from comfort.  I do not anticipate requiring your presence as I do the others, so you are free to go where you wish.”

The Creator returned his mask to his face and turned away from the tank before leaving the room.  He did not look back nor hesitate before he crossed the threshold and the door shut behind him.

Something constructed in Nadir’s chest and he could not, in all of the databanks and memories he was connected to, put a name to it.  It was not sharp, like a knife, but it persisted from his chest up through his throat and crawled over his tongue.  The sensation grew worse as the tank shimmered and flowed, the source obscured but unmistakable.  

The Segment dove and found the pipeline connected to the ocean depths.  His skin prickled as the temperature changed and the balance of minerals shifted.  

At first, he lingered.  How could he not?

The only other of his kind, manufactured though he was, lived in these waters.  He held memories of what it was to be on two legs and feet, feel sand between toes and the sun on a face that was his and yet not.  

The best way to learn and understand was to observe, watch, see what unfolded without interference.  

There was no point in staying where he was not wanted.  But if nothing else, such knowledge would help him survive elsewhere.

___________________

He grew bored within the year and set out from the reaches of the far north, with nothing but the currents and memories of maps as guides.  

Down here, beneath the ice and at such depth, hardly any sun reached through the frigid waters.  His Creator saw to it that his vision was intended for all environments but the winter months made it especially difficult when light was so infrequent.

The overworld was vast but the bodies of water were far larger still.  Nadir had the world between his fingertips.  Anywhere.  Everywhere.  He could go to the land of Freedom, where it was said the air was clear and the water even clearer; or perhaps to the reaches of the land of Eternity, where he might have better odds among the yokai; the nation of War was far too hot for his liking and the adepti of the land of Contracts were protective of their legacy.

His Creator spent time in…what was it…a fountain…ah, Fontaine!  Although the nation embodied Justice, it was said that all life sprang forth from the waters of the land of Hydro.   Zandik had enjoyed it there under a guise that had no name and was never recorded.  No doubt the waters would be crowded but of all nations, it seemed the most promising.

He stuck to the shadows of the water.  The voices at the base of his skull whispered, screamed, and shouted all the while.

Until one day, his ears began to ring after a muted pop and his vision went dark as he caught a glimpse of a waterfall in the moonlight.  ___________________

When he opened his eyes again, he felt rocks and silt beneath him.  Everything felt dry .  Disgustingly so, as if every water droplet was sucked from his entire being.  Something bright and painful winked down at him and with difficulty, he raised a hand to cover his eyes.

Pale strands of aquamarine hair clung to him, long and tangled.  Despite how arid everything felt, his hair continued to stick to everything.  When he was swimming, it didn’t matter much but now?  It just made his dry skin itchier.

He heard the splashing of water and his…tail, yes, that word seemed correct swayed with the soft current.  He couldn’t recall how he arrived here.  All he remembered was ringing, like high pressure, and darkness.

There was a sudden rustle and then another sound, foreign but soft.  

“Are you alright?”

He gritted his sharp teeth and lifted his arm.  What language were they even speaking ?  The light was now obscured and instantly his skin felt several degrees cooler.

His bleary garnet eyes focused on the object, no, person before him.  Backlit by the brilliant light in the sky (was that the sun?), he could make out wide eyes shot with concern but as stunning as gems, lips slightly parted as if to speak again, and colors framing you that he had no name for.

You.

You were beautiful.

He couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his face as a distant sensation swam in his mind that another might be jealous of you.

“Can you speak?” you asked.

His throat was arid, his tongue thick and rough.  He dared not trust his vocal cords and instead shook his head, grits of sand embedding into his hair.

You made a sound that made his heart jump, a rush of air passing through your lungs that mimicked bells.  Your smile was apologetic, sweet in the way your lips curved and your expression conveyed your sincerity. 

“Silly question, this place is eternally dry and you clearly belong in the water.  Let’s at least get the rest of your lower half in the water first.  You’re too striking and handsome to dry out.”

Forward, too.  Had he met others like you before?

Your hands were warm, a little rougher, and with a little assistance, he was sitting upright with his tail properly in the water.  He was already feeling a bit better, even if his gills felt dry as they laid flat against his neck and his second respiratory pathways took over.  His hair, he realized, was much longer than he initially thought, tickling his back.

He watched as you pulled out a flask, opened it, and held it out to him.  His red eyes traced the line from the canteen, to your hands, your arm, and then your face.

Human.  You were human, same as…

Same as who?

“At least take a sip so your throat isn’t dry,” you prompted.  “It’s safe, I swear.”

He took it and put the metal to his lips, which he now realized were painfully cracked, and let the water pass across his tongue and down his throat.  The water tasted of iodine and he gagged as he swallowed.

So he not only needed to be in water but he needed water to survive.  That seemed counter-intuitive.  After all, he was mechanical .  Or partially mechanical.  What purpose did such a thing serve?

“Certainly tasted otherwise,” he managed to choke out, holding the container out to you.

Your fingers were warm against his webbed fins and you didn’t even hesitate when your fingers brushed his claws.  He could not determine if you were very brave or very stupid for that, with the way your touch sent a jolt down his spine and into his tail.  

Thankfully, his lower half was in water as he silently cursed at the other sensations that arose.  He would have to research this experience further…

“Out here, the water has to be purified before it can be consumed.  At least for me, at any rate,” your smile showed your unspoken apology.  “Do you have a name?”

A question he could not answer.  At one point, he had to have.  Someone gave it to him.  The opposite point of the rising sun…

Before he could respond, your hands found his hair and settled on something he didn’t feel until you gave a gentle tug.

“Oh, that has to hurt, no?”

He liked when your voice was tinged with worry, especially for someone you barely knew.  That was kind of you, if not incredibly foolish.  So many in the water gave him a wide berth, avoided him, and for good reason.  Or so it seemed.  In hindsight, he had no explanation, no context, just…end results.

You tugged on a different spot and he gritted his teeth again.

“When you pull on it, human , yes, it hurts,” he spat.  “Are you always so callous with all you come across?”

“I’m sorry.  You have…that’s a fishing lure…and a piece of a net…that looks like some kind of mollusk…if you’re going to have long hair, you have to care for it…this isn’t salvageable…”. You sounded almost sad and you reached around to show him a crude pair of shears, large and clearly intended for working with harder materials than hair.  “I can cut it but I’d have to remove most of it.  Your neck would be bare.”

“Why would I trust the one tugging on me to use anything with a blade near me?” 

The question felt logical.  After all, you’d caused him great discomfort.  Interrupted what was likely meant to be the embrace of death.  Maybe death was the purpose, the point.  After all, he hadn’t felt anything other than the drive to explore and understand.  And if his body couldn’t go on, then what use was…

“I can leave it if you want but it’ll weigh you down and create more drag when you swim.  Not very aerodynamic, you know?”

He turned his head and felt his skin grow hot at how close your face was to his.  You smelled of sweat, dirt, and something uniquely you and his heart began its own unorganized rhythm.  That sensation that sat at the base of his spine tingled and turned into an ache as it ran through him, ruining whatever trains of thought he had.  Now, all he could think of was your lips and how much he wanted to feel your heat against him, around him, how he wanted to see your eyes blown dark with base need…

He swallowed when you smiled and your low laugh jostled your torso into his.  You were soft , Archons above, so soft…

Your eyes seemed to marvel for a moment, dropping to the bottom half of his face, before you spoke again.

“I gave you water and made sure you didn’t dry out like a raisin; surely that’s enough reason to trust me?  All I ask in return is your name.  So if our paths ever cross again, I know what to call you.  It’s only polite.”

He couldn’t reply, too preoccupied with preventing you from realizing whatever was happening under the water.  He did not remember much but he did recall that such base needs were…a boundary for most.  One he could not get a grasp on but you were far kinder than he anticipated…

Why did that preconceived notion exist if there was no evidence to support it?  What happened ?

He felt the wet hair fall away in chunks, his neck muscles instantly relieved as soon as most of the weight was gone.  You worked carefully when the locks were short enough and only twice did you ask for him to wet his head.  Something about an even plane to work with.  He closed his eyes and leaned back a little into your gentle touch.  You knew exactly how to run your hands through his hair against his scalp.  The only sounds between the two of you was the harsh click of the shears as you worked.  

All the while, he resisted the urge to place one hand in his lap.  He couldn’t determine if he wanted to hide his protruding appendage or stroke it.

No one had touched him.  Ever.  Whatever memories of who he was were vague if not outright gone entirely but he knew that much.  His life had been solitary and this need had never existed before.

“There, all done!” You chirped.  “It’s actually quite curly when it dries.  Suits you better, if I can say so myself!”

Curly?  

He brought a hand up and felt the locks, shorn and…oh, they flipped and had patterns of their own…

You stepped away and from the pack you had thrown down, you pulled out a panel of reflective silver.  

“Here.  I’m an inventor, not a hair stylist, but I think I managed to keep your handsome visage from being ruined.”

He stared at you, and then the object, and back at you.  Didn’t people use that word for those they held affection for?  Or was it a general descriptor for someone who was pleasant to look at?

He would need to do a significant amount of research on human customs.  The knowledge he did have was insufficient and vague, like he had swallowed it without understanding its contents.

The merman took the shining glass and almost dropped it.  Familiar red eyes stared back at him, sharp teeth that tore through the flesh of any creature winked in the mirror, and his hair…

Oh, that was much better.  It wouldn’t get in the way, easy to maintain…

His right ear sported a broken piece of glass on a wire.  What had that been?  Could that pop have been…?

“Well, I don’t look like a shark attacked my head,” he muttered in amusement when he handed back the mirror.  

That earring should come out.  If it was broken, there was no point in keeping it.  Maybe he could replace it with something else.  He tilted his head to get better leverage on the post, his claws making the task harder.  Ridiculous.  How did that thing get in, then?

“I’ll take that as a ‘thank you’, Mister…?”

Your patience ran out, it seemed.  He returned your expectant look with a weary expression.  Truth would be prudent.  He had no one else to turn to.  And if you did run your mouth when you returned to wherever you were from, no one was liable to believe you, were they?  

After all, that was a large backpack for a day adventurer and you had absolutely no fear helping a strange creature survive.

No, you, too, were an outcast.

“I cannot recall my name,” he said at last.  “The last thing I remember is a high-pitched ringing before waking up here.”

“Nothing?  Not even a nickname?  A notion?”

Your persistence might have been charming if he wasn’t so focused on not ripping his ear fin.  Was the stupid thing sewn into his flesh?  

You clicked your tongue and knelt down beside him.  Your softness pressed into his shoulder as you brushed away his hands and worked with the clasp and post, pulling the wire from the piercing.  When you offered it, he shook his head and you reeled your arm back and flung the broken thing into the water.  It landed with a plunk and sank where it hit.

“I do have a notion, if you must insist on information.  But you have not shared your name, only your profession, inventor .”

His eyes locked with yours and you never looked away, never so much as stepped back.  No, this lack of fear wasn’t confidence, it couldn’t be.  Perhaps you were touched in the head or just absolutely without sense from the high sun.

You tilted your head and he had to close his mouth to repress the urge to latch onto the column of your neck.

Killing you would do nothing but potentially result in people looking for him.  A dead body, even that of an outcast, brutally torn apart?  It would only reinforce whatever superstitions existed in these parts.

Your name was nothing more than a whisper across your tongue.  He wondered, briefly, if the jolts that ran through every part of him at the syllables was anything like being electrocuted.  He repeated your name as his tail fins twitched and he throbbed again beneath the water.

“Mmhmm.  Your turn.”

He paused, licking his cracked lips before attempting the name that lingered in his memory banks like a ghost.

“Nadir.”

“The opposite of zenith,” you replied.  “Where someone’s shadow would appear…the lowest point of someone’s spirit…” You frowned, almost wounded. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that last one.”

“I did not know its true meaning.  That is beneficial.”

You shook your head and gave a smile that was too tight to be kind.  You had embarrassed yourself and whatever glimmer of enthusiasm had existed was snuffed out with regret.  

“Its meaning is irrelevant.  You look like the evening sky out here, when the sun finally falls and fades from a light blue into the shades of night.  We are not our names given to us.  I think there might be a more suitable one for you out there.”

You returned to your pack and fiddled with something.  A rag and a bottle and small pieces of metal.  The merman inched himself towards the deeper parts of the water, not intent on leaving yet but itching to test his physical capabilities.  You stepped into the water with ease, legs protected by leather, and you reached down, experienced hands sliding a post into place through pierced flesh.

Nadir, for he had no other name to refer to himself, touched his fin and felt the small earring.  A stud, nothing fancy.  When he looked up, he noticed the gold and tanzanite gem from one of your own ears was missing.

“Whatever you call yourself, as long as you have that, I’ll know it’s you.  If we ever meet again.”

___________________

Without a past and without more than loose tendrils of memories, Nadir found himself wandering the coasts of an arid desert beneath high waterfalls.  He kept his hair short, as you had shaped for him, and he quite liked the way it retained a fluffy volume, curling in a wild fashion.  

In the depths, he found caverns and ruins, documents preserved through sheer luck and machinery that sputtered and whirred.

So much of the machinery felt familiar, although he didn’t know why.  He knew exactly where to touch, how the joints held together, and the distance to keep from those blasted sensors that targeted enemies.  Working with them was as easy as swimming and converting hydrogen dioxide into its smaller compound to oxygenate his circulatory system.

Presumably, whatever past he held and whatever memories were once in his system held the answer.  But he was not likely to obtain them again.

Language was retained.  The world’s history, such as it was, and its geography, were readily available.  He knew he was on the cusp of Sumeru and Fontaine.

But he did not know how he came to be.  Nor understand why he was so fascinated with the notion of artificial life (other than, perhaps, that he was not quite organic nor mechanic).

Above the waterfalls was a large statue that glowed bright at night.  The water there was purer, crisper, tinged with a sweetness that came with the surety of one’s actions.  Climbing it would not be impossible, even for Nadir; he did not lack the muscles to achieve it.

But it would be a waste of energy and time.

Where there were steam engines and mechanics, there were pipes to provide water to the various parts necessary.  He could only conclude that there were other means to make one’s way into Fontaine.  

The Fountain of all life.

Part of him wished to stay here, in the seams of the nations, perhaps even set up a workshop.  There was plenty to explore and play around with.  Ships came through here regularly and superstitious sailors would be easy to bargain with.

But Nadir was never one for staying idle.  The world waited for no one and there was so much more beyond his tiny scope.

And so, upon several inspections and tracking of schedules, he entered one of the pipes at the most opportune time and came out of the darkness to shining brilliance and crystalline waters.  The shallows were tricky for a creature like him, for he could not easily hide and there was too much activity around for his liking.

The other creatures were friendlier than he expected.  Otters tumbled with their shells and presented him with a rock to tuck away.  Blubberbeasts rumbled and invited him to swim with them.  The crabs were troublesome but nothing he couldn’t handle with a hard thwack of his tail and a slash of his claws.

Glowing crystals, flowing fauna, coral reefs…everything here teemed with life.  

And below Fontaine City, there was plenty to explore, it seemed.

Yes, this would do quite nicely for now.

___________________

He settled in quickly.  Food was abundant and there were so many caverns and old ruins that Nadir was not without shelter.  Some of the ruins appeared to be some kind of research facility or library, which suited him just fine.

What did not suit him were the random devices that would find their way to his usual hunting ground.  They often scared the fish away and he would return to his vast underground network with only metal cogs and curiosity, his stomach grumbling all the while.  Many of these things were almost operational as well.  It was like someone tired of the project or could not finish it through and flung it out the nearest window.

Ridiculous.  Wasteful.  Pathetic.

Nadir fixed the contraption once he understood its mechanical intentions and returned it to the shoreline.  On more than one occasion, he tied a bow on one out of seaweed, just to be, well, petty and make it harder for the owner to pick up.

The devices were always gone within twenty-four hours and in their place, he found mora.  Which he had little to no use for but at least the sailors he traded with never questioned its origin.  

One day, Nadir was unlucky enough to be caught as he was placing an unfortunate device back onto the ledge.  

“So you’re the reason I’ve yet to be fined, huh?”

His garnet gaze burned as he laid eyes on familiar hair, shining eyes.  He would know you anywhere.

Surely not.

Surely you had more sense than to throw away your projects.  To complete them yourself.  

He couldn’t determine if he should be angry or ravenous.  You, in Fontaine?  It must have been fate.  But then again, fate implied agreeing with the Heavenly Principles and partaking in the constant samara cycles of the world.  Which Nadir wanted no part of.

“And you call yourself an inventor,” he muttered, running his tongue over sharp teeth.  “Can’t even follow through on your own work.”

“Not my fault everything’s been done before.  Just when I think I’m making progress, turns out seven other people did the same thing.  Nothing’s original.”

“So have I been fixing garbage for nothing?”

“No.  I did earn a position in research and development for a private company that works with the Palais thanks to you.  And I have been fairly compensating you…although in hindsight perhaps I should have asked if mora was the best way to do that…not many places to use it for those who live in the water…”

You trailed off, face alight with embarrassment.  Your attire was dingy and looked like you’d endured an explosion.  Nadir sank into the water, keeping his eyes and ear fins just above the surface.

“How long have you been in Fontaine?” You asked, settling into the ledge.

You removed your boots and stockings and stuck your feet into the water.  Nadir couldn’t help but admire your bare skin for a moment before raising his head.

“I do not know how you track time but I have seen winter and spring already.  That is roughly…six months, if I calculated correctly.”

“You were okay when the waters froze over?”

How did he tell you that he held memories of ice far thicker and water far colder?  

“I am here, am I not?” Nadir shot back.

You gave a wry smile in return.  Silence dominated as you watched him, just as he watched you in return.  

“You kept it,” you pointed to your hair and then your ear.

“Short hair is far more practical and the earring is quite pretty.  It reminds me that some humans can be kind.  If not a bit…lacking in self preservation.”

“Oh?”

Nadir gave a wide, toothy grin and you didn’t so much as flinch.  When you didn’t react, he slid his tongue out slightly, the exact way he would when eyeing prey.

“I could have killed you in the desert.”

“But you didn’t.”

“And I could kill you now.”

“You won’t.”

Nadir barked a laugh.  “What makes you so sure?”

Your smile widened.  He watched as, for the first time that evening, a spark shimmered in your eyes.

“Because you enjoy tinkering.  If you killed me, what else would you fill your days with, Nadir?”

“You think very highly of yourself, Inventor.  There’s plenty of underwater devices, I’ll have you know.  Some of the Research Facility fell into the water, after all.  And it’s quite easy to find the parts I need from defective mechs or bargaining with divers.”

“And who else would you talk to, hmm?  Who else is brave enough—”

“Stupid enough,” Nadir interrupted.

You raised an eyebrow but continued, “—to try and bridge the gap?”

Nadir’s gaze dropped to your bare knees and feet, where your skin met the water, before he flicked his eyes back up to you.  Even now, months after you saved him, you sat with him and treated him as an equal.  Anyone else would attempt to bargain with him, keep him at arm’s length but here you were, feet in the water, treating him like…

Like you wanted him.

His chest constricted.  In the deep reaches of his mind, he tried to remember a time or a place someone wanted him and he came up short.

He reached a webbed hand, mindful of his razor-sharp claw, and danced a finger on the sole of your foot.  When you didn’t react, he swam closer, skimming his palm across the muscle of your calf.  

“And what gap might that be, hmm?” He asked as he situated himself between your open legs.  

From this angle, you were smaller than he originally thought (or perhaps it was the ledge height); he towered over you regardless.  His heart danced in time with the cadence of your laugh when his nails tickled your skin ever so slightly.

You smelled different than the last time he saw you.  Metal, soot, and the air of the thunderstorm just before the crack of lightning.  

He expected cockiness, a sharp remark.  But all Nadir found was a simmering gaze and parted lips, perfect for the taking.  Your breath mingled with his and he couldn’t help but wonder what you might taste like.  

“This one,” you whispered.

You leaned forward and Nadir gripped your legs to keep you from falling as your lips crashed onto his.  You were all softness, eager heat, and searing touches as you rested your hands flat against his bare chest.

His head swam as you pressed exploratory kisses to his mouth and jaw.  He read about this, along with many other things regarding human courting and mating.  Few researchers knew of or studied the creatures he was created to mimic.  But he knew enough to recognize that his body’s responses were normal, even if he disliked the loss of control.

Nadir gave a hiss as your dull teeth grazed the curve of his neck before you swirled your tongue across his skin.  His skin felt as if he were on fire.  A shiver ran down his spine and a throbbing ache settled in his lower belly as he hardened at your teasing.  

As long as he kept himself in the water and you stayed on the ledge, he might survive this encounter with shreds of self-control.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, human ,” he murmured.

“Am I?” 

You laughed softly into the soft flesh of his neck and he twitched beneath the water as a jolt ran straight down to his member.  Your warmth left him as you pulled away and he gripped your legs harder when you cupped his face.

“Looks like you’re liking it, though.  Flustered just like when I cut your hair.”

Well, that left him with no choice.

Nadir pulled you into the water with a splash and he dove, crashing his tail on the surface once to create additional spray.  He heard a cry as you flailed, your head bobbing above water once, twice, and then you began to…

Panic shot through him, killing everything else as he darted towards you.  In one swift motion, he scooped you under your arms and brought you back to the surface.  His heart calmed every so slightly when you gasped and coughed (although he would not have minded pressing his mouth to your again).  The ledge you were on was too high to easily reach, he realized, and he brought you to the nearest patch of shallow water.

“You could have mentioned that you couldn’t swim,” he muttered, settling you into the shoal.

“Right, yeah, because I’m going to admit that to a man with a tail and fins who lives in the water.  That’s like telling your murderer where to shoot you.”

Your voice cracked.  You sniffed and then coughed again before getting to your feet.

“Am I not allowed to tease you back?”

“ Teasing would be pulling away and splashing me,” you shot back, extending an arm out in emphasis.  “Finding something else about me to make a flirtatious response about.  Not putting me in danger.  What if I hit my head going down?  What if you didn’t have the reflexes you do?”

You wrung out your clothes and tried to make yourself presentable.  The previous flush across your cheeks was no longer soft and endearing; you instead looked like you were trying to embody the red creatures he saw in the regions near the Fortress.  Your eyes shone but not with the usual enthusiasm nor vibrancy he liked.  In fact, you didn’t look at him at all.

“For the record, most people apologize when they hurt someone else.”

He wanted to call after you as you trudged through the water, your name (your beautiful, brilliant name) on his lips.  But he didn’t want to taint it.  You didn’t deserve that.

Nadir watched, only the top half of his face to the bridge of his nose above the surface, as you made your way back into the city without sparing a glance back.

___________________

He never had a single device thrown into the nearby waters after that encounter.  

And you never came to claim the one you left behind.

It glared at him every time the morning sun glinted off the metal and he caught the stupid thing out of the corner of his eye.  A constant reminder of you , as if the pangs that shot through his arms and chest weren’t enough.

He hadn’t wanted to hurt you.  In fact, despite his words, he never would have been able to bring himself to truly sink his teeth into your flesh.  Nadir would never be able to live with himself if he watched life fade from your eyes and your body slump.

Which made him all the more frustrated with himself.  Pulling you into the water had been a gut reaction, a way to equal the playing ground when you were so intent on mocking him.  He did it with sailors who tried to cheat him out of an agreement.

How was he supposed to know you, someone who lived in the city of Hydro, couldn’t swim ?

Part of him tried to simply forget you and move on with his existence.  That’s what any normal creature would do, after all.  You weren’t like him and you certainly weren’t as clever as he was, at any rate.

But he never heard anything as beautiful as your laugh and the way you smiled at him…

He tried not to take the physical reactions into consideration, how he imagined you might feel beneath him, what coupling with you might feel like as you squeezed him, your lips parted and eyes lidded…

His seed joined the seafoam one morning before he grabbed the stupid contraption and brought it back to his workshop.

How did one apologize ?

This device was meant to be a timed lantern; the user would set the amount of time on the bottom in increments of five, ten, fifteen minutes up until a full hour.  You had not positioned the heat sensor right and it kept turning off before the actual timer recognized the appropriate measurement of time.  It was functional now and to change anything would render it useless for its intended purpose.

Nadir frowned.  He’d had a purpose once, hadn’t he?  His creation was not random; one did not just assemble pseudo-biological systems for no reason, after all.  Despite having no memories of his creator, he knew his muscles were synthetic and his biological systems were as functional and necessary as any other living creature.  Granted, he never tried not eating, but why else did he physically respond to your touch at all, if nothing was functional ?

He shoved the thought aside as he disassembled the housing on the lantern and removed the bulb, leaving only the lighting node itself, the sensors, and the glass panels through which the light shone.

The timer moved a set of cogs as it counted down and the heat sensor had a little lever to insert a piece of non-conductive material into the circuit, cutting off the flow of power.  Simple and basic wiring and cog placement.

But…

He rummaged through and found a comb and wheel, the pieces sliding home as if they were meant to be there.  Thorough testing revealed that another song might be needed, both because this one was grating to listen to and because he needed to take the extended intervals into consideration.

While he continued to work on the abandoned device, he sought pathways into the city itself.  Just like with the waterfall and the elevator’s steam engines, there was no way all of the machinery in the city operated without some kind of system to pump water through the streets.  Eventually, he came upon pipes and underground tunnels, entire networks of stairs and walkways far beneath the sunlight of the city.  

Small houses, crammed in next to one another, food stands and market stalls packed as vendors bargained and shouted.  Children ran along the waterways, pretending sticks from the surface were swords.

He never allowed more than his eyes above the surface and never for too long.  This was too close for comfort.  The last thing anyone down here needed was a rumor of a monster lurking in the water.  

It took weeks but he finally heard murmurs of your whereabouts.  A child, knelt down next to a broken mechanical animal, was told your name and that you fixed machines all the time.  That you could be found on the outskirts of the market when you weren’t working on the surface.

The sections there were shallower, if not outright inaccessible Nadir recalled.  Perhaps not quite a problem but admittedly, it made this all the harder.

Upon hearing your voice from one of the tiny cramped living spaces, he burned the image of your door into your mind until he finished the device.  He wrapped it carefully and made his way back to your location, the invention clutched tight to his chest.  Knowing at this hour that no one would spot him, Nadir lifted himself out of the shallows before the grating covered the waterway.  He pulled himself along with one arm until he reached your door, carefully placed the gift where you would see it and not break it, and gave your door a good thwack with his tail.  You grumbled a threat to supposed intruders as he made his way back to the water and he dove just as he heard your door open.

Quietly, he surfaced and watched as you picked up the wet oilskin package and opened it.  You froze almost instantly in recognition (he had not changed the shape in the slightest, despite his modifications).  Nadir’s heart hammered in his chest and his mouth became surprisingly dry when you wound up the key on the bottom.

The lantern flickered to life and images began to move between the bulb and the glass panels, casting shadows on the metal walls.  Notes from a song he only knew in composition danced in the air as you watched the shapes.  Nadir’s eyes were glued to your face.

A tail became legs.  The figure walked to another.  A kiss.  A house.  A life.

He once read a tale about a girl from Remuria, born partially in the image of an Oceanid, who fell in love with a person on the surface.  She made a bargain for her voice in exchange for the excruciating experience of legs, endearing pain with every step just to be with her true love.

It was too flowery for Nadir’s liking and seemed to reinforce the idea that people should stay where they belonged.  Nonetheless, the base sentiments were there.

You closed your eyes and clutched the lantern to your chest when the song ended.  

“I’m sorry, too,” you whispered, the words as loud to him as though he spoke them right next to him.

He did not expect you to join him the following evening.  But when he heard the notes as he was hunting for dinner, he could not help but heed the call.

You stood on the ledge, lantern in your hands.  Your face was puffy and you looked like you hadn’t slept.  A terrible look for you, if he were honest, but now was not the best time to say such a thing.

“Is this how you feel?” you asked.  “About me?”

Your words were soft and you broke your gaze away to look at the lantern you held.  He should have had a speech prepared.  Or at least a sound argument.  In actuality, he never expected you to show up again.  It had been enough to express how he felt through the shadow art and he would have been content with your apology, even if he wasn’t supposed to overhear it.

The longer the silence stretched on, the thinner your patience became.

And you were gracious enough to make the trip.

“If you are asking if I love you, the answer is truthfully that I do not know,” Nadir admitted.  “I have never had the life experience to tell me one way or the other and it is easy to mistake infatuation and lust for something more…foundational.”

He ran his tongue over the sharp points of his teeth.  

“But I do know that I never meant to harm you, that I never wanted to harm you, and I think I would be quite happy seeing your face every day of my existence.  However long that’s meant to be.”

He could see by the way your expression shifted that you had plenty of words to say.  For the first time since he met you, however, you opted for silence and instead placed the lantern down on the ground.  You removed your boots and uniform, leaving yourself only in the thin underclothes that gave the vague outline of your true form.

And then you jumped.

Your name left his lips as soon as you broke the surface and Nadir flicked his tail, propelling himself forward.

Was the idea of loving him so abhorrent that you could drown yourself to be rid of him?  Did you truly have a death wish?

Hands found his chest before arms wrapped around his neck and he surface with you clinging to him, your feet kicking.  Nadir glared down at you, a cheeky smile across your face the whole while.

“What were you thinking—” he started.

Wait, kicking?

You giggled and pushed away from him, moving your arms and legs to keep yourself afloat.

“Forced myself to learn.  I didn’t have a lot of time after my shifts for much else.  But I realized I was actually angry at myself,” you said.  “Had I known how to swim, that night would have gone differently.”

Your movements were clumsy but calculated.  Swimming wasn’t even second nature to you, or even third; he could see it in the way you expended too much energy in treading, in the clear discomfort of you submerging yourself under water.

“I’d like to try again,” you said, swimming slightly closer.  “If you’d be open to it.”

Nadir couldn’t name the feeling that seemed to stem from his fins and reach all the way into his head, making him dizzy.  

“You… want to…”

“Would I be here if I never wanted to see you again, Nadir?”

No, you didn’t seem the type, he wanted to say.  But sometimes, silence was better.  It didn’t weigh everything down.  And he very much enjoyed this warm feeling swelling inside of him seeing you in the water with him.

“I can’t think of anything I’d like more.”

___________________

It took time, as all things did. 

You moved out of the undercity and, with a little help from a few colleagues from your company’s engineering department, assembled a house over the water just northeast of Fontaine City.  The trip into the city was the same length of time as before.  Only now, there were beaches instead of stone ledges and you had plans for creating underwater parts of the house for Nadir.

The lantern often lit up your room at night when the two of you went to sleep, both of you keenly aware of the other’s absence.

You didn’t want a solution that involved changing him, you said one night, toes in the sand.  Although you might never share the same bed nor eat at the same table, you were content to have dinner in the same space as him and to sit on the beach and discuss various mechanical ideas until the early hours of the morning.

At some point, he confessed to knowing that he was not entirely organic and that he hailed from a frozen country.  Beyond that, he held little to no recollection; when you protested about closure, he pressed his lips to yours and said that you were all he needed.

Hearing your resolution on not changing him meant more to him than he could truly put into words.  Finding a way to give him legs would be more practical but there was so much of human life that he didn’t understand nor wanted to.  

So instead, he opted to hold you close, tail in the tide, and point out the available constellations.

Until your breath was too hot on his neck and he lost the ability to concentrate.  This close, your scent mingling with the fresh evening breeze, your soft warmth pressed against his side, Nadir wondered if he might combust.

Discussions of logistics happened, of course.  You were no biologist but you admired his form on more than one occasion and took to sketching him when you needed a break from schematics.  He had felt your wet folds before when you directed his hand through your panties and demanded he understand just what his affections did to you.

He did. All too well.

Nadir grew hot when your hand wandered, tracing his slit and the tip of his member.  He gasped when you coaxed him further, your lips on his neck and his cock in your hand; he turned his head and found you gazing not at the stars but at him, every bit of you burning with a deeper yearning than mere lust.  

“I mean it.  I don’t want anything different.  Just you.”

You ran your hands through his hair, tugging slightly and he swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry.

“I want to taste you first,” he panted.  “Properly.”

Before he could rearrange either of you, you remove the remainder of your garments and situated your legs around his neck.  Your folds were glistening with your own slick and he only caught a glimpse before his nose was pressed against your clit and your scent and taste overwhelmed him.

Nadir gripped your thighs tight, nails digging into the soft flesh as he licked and teased.  He did his best to keep his teeth covered as he dipped between your folds, feeling your velvet walls against his tongue.  He pulled away only long enough to nibble at your thighs and nuzzle between your folds, reveling in the way your desire dripped down his chin.  

Your taste made him dizzy and served to only harden him further.  Your feisty hand reached behind you and squeezed his length and he groaned, the edge already closer than he wished it was.

No, not yet.

He pulled your hips down onto him and pushed his tongue into you as far as it would go.  Judging from the jolt that rocked both of you, that was much deeper than you anticipated.  He flicked across one particular spot and you bucked again as you gave a low whine.

Now that was interesting…you enjoyed that…

Nadir repeated the motion and you clenched around his tongue with a louder cry.  He continued, unrelenting, until you shuddered, walls fluttering as your taste changed and you gushed atop him.  You were breathless, chest heaving, glowing with a desire yet to be extinguished.

He licked every drop from your lips and your thighs.   You tasted magnificent and he couldn’t let that go to waste.

Your hands reached for him again but Nadir leveraged you with ease and flipped both of you over, your back on the sand and legs wrapped around his waist.

“I need all of you,” he whispered.  “Just you.”

You felt absolutely divine against his tip and he eased into you slowly, inch by inch, your swollen walls still fluttering.  He watched your expression, eyes widening and lips parting in pants as he finally bottomed out.  You were already beautiful but like this? 

Such things were not meant for this world.  And yet you were all his .

Your hands trailed across his back and down along his hips, tracing the scales of his tail.  He moaned when, as he pulled out slightly to simply steady himself, the heel of your foot pressed against his tail and pushed him back in and you held him there, filling you entirely with his length.  He nipped at your neck in retaliation.  

“Nadir…”

Oh, when you said his name like that, dragging out the last syllable…

He pulsed inside you and you had the gall to bring your other leg up, pinning him inside you.  Nadir gritted his teeth and, claws digging into your waist, pulled you further down the shore and into the water.  He flipped both of you so you rested atop him, legs encircling his waist, and your bodies still joined at the hip.  You sputtered for a moment but were wholly undeterred

He continued to thrust into you lazily as he floated along to deeper water.  He held you tight, and pulled your body further underwater, until only your heads were above the surface.  You were weightless on top of him, shrouded in his element, and he dragged out both of your releases until you convulsed on top of him, moaning incoherently.  

Nadir buried his face in your neck, teeth sinking into your shoulder to muffle his guttural groan as he released deep inside you.  He shuddered as you peaked again, the intensity too much for him to bear so soon.

He kissed and licked your shoulder apologetically as you both came down from your high, tangled in one another.  In the distance, the water sparkled with the promise of daybreak, the sky already full of soft pinks and oranges.  Had you truly been up all night?

“Have you ever seen such a beautiful sunrise?” you whispered, nuzzling closer to him.

A vague memory tickled his mind.  A flick of fins, a touch of dawn, possessive glares.

If that was beauty by most standards, then he wanted no recollection of that.

“No.  No, I have not, my love.  But every day with you will contain such light.  I’m sure of it.”

[chilapis]

— a more refined, detailed version of this post.

I did say that I didn’t quite know how to word my thoughts, so here is a version in which I do know how to do so. I’ll be going over all information with better application, along with the introduction of new information or analyses where need be.

There is, perhaps, no way to summarize Ajax, or anyone really, given the complexities of the subject’s character. But, if one absolutely must do so, I strongly hold that perhaps there is genuinely no better way to explain Childe than to compare him to a garnet, the beautiful, blood-coloured stone of life and passion, of strength and rebirth, of homesickness; and it is this is very justification that also leads me to believe that the red stone that he just always seems to have on his person somehow, whether it be through the earring he wears, the ones that dangles from his usual-outfit’s jacket (Blades of Glory), the one hanging from his fatui-harbinger fur-collared cloak, or even the one worn in the necklace depicted in the recent concert’s artwork.

In order to justify this comparison and association however, it is first necessary to delve into what garnets really are. Garnets refer to a category of silicate minerals that are available in a variety of species and colours, although deep shades of burgundy and crimson appear most commonly referred to in terms of the latter. Species include pyrope, almandine, andradite, and many more, though we will not be discussing anything that is species-specific. Primarily because that discussion would be more relevant if we were to discuss the composition of these gemstones rather than their believed spiritual properties, or historical significance. Because of this, if you really insist on specification — which, there is no need, since I quite genuinely had no intention of tying it to specific species, and it would be quite futile to do so even if I did considering that they almost always naturally occur in amalgamations — you may use almandines as reference, considering they’re the most common species. Garnets as a whole are quite durable, ranging from 6.5 to 7.5 on the Moh scale of hardness.

The term “garnet” finds its roots in the Medieval Latin word “Granatus”, which is derived from “Granum”, which means “seed-like”, spoken in reference to pomegranate seeds; though it took quite some time for this poor gemstone to have its own identity, considering that red gemstones were referred to using the umbrella term “carbuncle”. This name (garnet) was granted on basis of the similarity in colouring; the gemstone’s red was found to be strikingly similar to that of the fruit. Though, this association is not something that died at the naming process, never to move further; rather, becauss of this association, garnets became a symbol of marital fidelity, seen to reflect the affection shared between Persephone and Hades. It also, by relation, began to be associated with Persephone as a whole — Persephone, the Greek Goddess plunged into the underworld? The Greek Goddess known for her duality, as the Goddess of spring and fertility, but also the queen of the underworld?

Though this is a loose association to make, could the descent into the underworld not be loosely connected to the way Ajax fell into the abyss? Of-course, one mustn’t look for there to be a parallel to every role if one wishes to analyse with an open mind, so there is no Hades, and no abduction. Could this connection not be made then, considering how it was this descent that led to Persephone’s duality, and similarly it was his own descent that led to Ajax’s as well? He was a sweet boy, just a small child who didn’t know any better, but he returned different.

He returned with a piece of the abyss coursing through him in ways perhaps no-one could have imagined; he is no deity like her, of-course, and he is of no royal status, whether by blood or through marriage, but does he not carry his duality well? Is his duality not comparable to hers? A duality that balances the scale with gentle innocence and growth on one side, and death, reincarnation on the other? With the goddess even referred to as a protector(ess) in reference to the latter? Is Tartaglia any stranger to reincarnation and rebirth himself? The audience itself was led into believing he might have died, or would die, in Fontaine’s Archon quest. Was his reappearance not rebirth? Or, was his return from the abyss itself after the time he spent fighting and clawing his way through it without rest, not rebirth? What truly defines rebirth, anyway? Is he not comparable to a phoenix rising from its own ashes, all to live through a painful, self-destructive cycle once again? It is also seen to assist one in recalling their past lives but, I digress.

Garnets are stone with much history behind them; their usage as abrasives, and also gemstones, especially for decorative or jewellery purposes, has been found to date back all the way to the Bronze Age. It is a gemstone that has received so much love throughout the years, whether it be from the ancient Romans, Greeks, Chinese, Arabs, the Victorians, or the Egyptians. Many findings have been discovered regarding how Egyptians would inlay the gemstone in their jewelry as far back as 3100 BC; if was seen as a symbol of life as well as the afterlife, of prosperity, and despite both beliefs coming from two such separate cultures, is it not beautiful how perfectly this ties in to the association with Persephone, with her themes of death and rebirth? And is it not beautiful how this association ties in with Ajax, too? Is he not alive? Do his actions not scream at you to look at him, to look at the fact that he has survived, that he is here and he is alive and he is breathing and it hurts to breathe and he is blinded by his determination but he is alive. He is so alive that it is painful.

Associations with Aphrodite have also led to this stone being seen to symbolise eternity, particularly eternal love and eternal marriage, but eternity in general as well, and eternity can be seen as synonymous with immortality in a way. Considering his relation to the abyss and his ability to harbour powers that would undoubtedly kill the average person, a part of me cannot help but ponder if he truly still is mortal.

It has also found its use in ancient Romans’ signet rings, which they would use to stamp down the wax on important documents; signet rings hold great historical importance due to being traditionally worn by men of great importance, such as royalty and religious leaders, as well as businessmen and politicians for the purposes of performing their signature. Given how much importance one’s signature holds in contracts (fun fact: your face and visual identification holds less importance than your signature in contracts) and his introduction in the Liyue Archon quest, I’m sure some connections could be drawn here although I’m far too tired to do so myself at the moment. People also believed dragons to have eyes made of garnets during the Middle Ages so, take that however you will, really. That’s more or less irrelevant but I’ll be damned if I don’t shove random facts where they absolutely do not fit.

On the topic of life, did you know that in certain cultures (my own included), garnets are seen to symbolise blood? They are said to improve blood circulation throughout the body, as well as help with disorders and deficiencies related to one’s blood. They are said to provide physical strength and endurance to the wearer by strengthening their muscles as well, along with improving the health of one’s heart and bones. Furthermore, it is stated to help relieve the wearer of fatigue, whether it be physical and mental. Is all this not of interest to him? Is strength not one of the very few things he seems to genuinely care about? Is getting stronger not all that he thinks about at times? The gemstone’s association with life and health was so strong that it was historically seen to keep away pestilence and plague, with it even going so far as to be placed on wounds with the belief that it would aid recovery with its powers to heal.

It was, and still is, actually those recommended for those with a tendency to overexert themselves, and is that not who he is? A man who either does not know his limits, or pretends to feign ignorance simply so he has an excuse to push himself, to push until he breaks and shatters time and time again, defying his mortal limitations, if he even really is mortal anymore? It can also be seen to strengthen one’s survival instinct, and one’s will to pull themselves out of difficult situations. I can definitely see the latter fitting perfectly, though I find… little survival instinct in this man.

And speaking of blood, would it be wrong to highlight how much blood matters when talking about him? Blood can refer to bloodlines, to one’s kin; to the family he seeks to protect. Blood can refer to violence, to murder; to the lives he takes so thoughtlessly. Blood can refer to passion, to youth, to ambition and the ability to put it into action; and is that not all that he is? A young man blinded by his passions?

Though, while discussing strength and blood, it becomes very important to note it has a history of being used for protection, strength, and bravery by those entering into battle. At one point in history, it was even referred to as the warrior stone, or the stone of the warriors, especially by ancient Celtic communities, because it had become that much of a tradition for warriors to carry it with them. This is seen to be further highlighted by the facts it was used to decorate the battle equipment and armour of leaders and crusaders, both Muslim and Christian, as they marched into battle, with the former including battle shields and sword hilts. This was seen more prominently during the medieval era, with there being certain discoveries dating far back, such as the two shoulder armour claps found in a buried Anglo-Saxon ship dating back to early 7th century, and Anglo-Saxon sword hilts of gold and garnet from the 8th century. Are Ajax’s outfits any different? Well, yes, in the sense that they’re not utilizing proper armour pieces and he is dressed very inappropriately for battle, but my point is — armour or not, those are his battle clothes, and he adorns them with these red gemstones in such a similar fashion. How is he any different from those warriors, marching into battle adorned by the gleaming blood-red gemstone?

Speaking of battle — garnets were also utilised by Hunza warriors in the later part of the 19th century against the British, by being used in the form of pellets shot with bows and then guns later on; it was assumed that the gemstones would result in especially critical and bloody wounds, which, of-course they would. They’re stones. But the bow part can certainly be tied into Ajax, could it not? Considering he is a bow-user within the game and is actively trying to manage and improve his skills with the bow.

My final point is arguably my most favourite as well; it was actually quite a common choice for travellers journeying far from home as well, so much so that it also came to be known as the “Traveller’s stone”. It was seen as a bringer of good fortune and protection for those planning to journey far away; it was thought that it would bring them back to their homeland not only safe and sound, but a-lot quicker as well. It was given to travellers with the hope of protecting them from misfortunes and accidents while they were away. It was actually quite a common gift to loved ones embarking on faraway journeys for this reason; it has also been noted to be a popular gift among lovers to symbolise their affection but its most popular tradition — at-least historically — remains that of it being gifted with the hope of being reunited, of having this person who means so much to you, finally come back home to you. This could be taken in a romantic context, a familial context, or a platonic context; there’s absolutely no boundaries to this, though there have been records of friends exchanging garnets before parting, with the hope of being reunited through the gemstone they’re carrying with them. They were also used as good luck charms by sailors for this exact reason, because it was thought that having them would keep storms away. In-fact, the use of garnets as protection on sea is so popular that it is commonly thought that Noah only used a garnet to light his path on the Ark.

Speaking of the sea — I’ll get back to it being used by those travelling far away in a moment, but did you know that you can find garnets on beaches as well? Garnet gneiss actually; there have been many instances of people finding garnet sand on beaches, with crystals being eroded by the lashing of the waves. Considering Childe’s hydro vision, and his ascension requiring deep investigation of the beaches around Liyue, it wouldn’t be a reach to view this as another thread of value in this association.

Anyway, I’m really just copy-pasting the following lines from the skeleton of an analysis I offered last time, but it still just… does something to me. Whether you believe in stone-related superstitions and myths or not, is there not sweetness to be found in the desperate human impulse to find comfort? Even if you view the belief to be silly, the fact that to console the anxiety and fear rooted in that separation, the people from those times dedicated these feelings and warmth to this stone, isn't that special?

^ now, applying this pasted analysis, can you not imagine the anxiety his family must feel to have their Ajax be so far away from them? You may argue that the young ones don’t know; they just think he’s a toys salesman, but you would be forgetting one very important thing. Children worry, children worry when you go away for even a little longer than expected, and no-one really knows when Ajax really comes back home. He can write them letters of his return but does he even really know? Every time he talks of returning back home, is it really a promise, or is it a hope? To see his family just one more time? Children worry, and though Teucer does not know the truth about his big brother, he knows that his big brother isn’t with him. Do you think he doesn’t get afraid that his big brother might get hurt? Don’t you think Teucer has his innocent little worries regarding his big brother? Don’t you think his other siblings do, too?

I just think Garnet is the perfect stone for him, that’s all. I don’t think I can imagine another suiting the gemstone so perfectly, or another gemstone suiting him so perfectly.

[chaosflight]

Saff is a river otter, Ruby is a sheep, and garnet is their strange lion amalgam child!

They belong to different Shamans, who govern different clans, and though they met on a sort of diplomatic visit, the fact that they 1) fell in love and 2) somehow made a baby together (magic smooches, where ALL babies come from) is Highly Unacceptable. They met in secret for a couple years but THIS can't be kept secret. Garnet's creation is ultimately the reason they decide to stop hiding inside society and start trying to live life openly, together, out of the view of anyone who'd judge them and condemn them.

And THAT is when they find Rose and Pearl, and Rose's herd officially begins.

[auburniivenus]

I’m going to put you on your knees. You’re going to hate how much you love it.

Beneath   the   fluorescent   embrace   of   Selene's   gaze,   her   alabaster   feet   tread   a   path,   an   exquisite   amalgam   of   fierce   motion   and   sylphlike   glide   upon   the   plush   garnet   carpet   that   ornaments   the   rustic   oaken   floorboards.   Auburn   tresses,   reminiscent   of   autumn's   elegance,   cascade   in   a   fluid,   undulating   veil   behind   her,   delineating   the   enchanting   contour   of   her   progression—a   silhouette   ensconced   amidst   chiaroscuro   whispers   and   the   opalescent   brilliance   that   filters   through   the   manorial   windows,   gracefully   veiled   by   gossamer   curtains,   further   accentuating   her   preternatural   presence.   Elegantly   attired   in   a   roseate   nightgown,   handmade   from   the   most   exquisite   silk.   It   flutters   like   a   delicate   wraith   behind   her,   its   textile   intimately   embracing   her   physique,   emphasizing   the   curvature   of   her   limbs,   her   ample   décolletage,   invoking   an   aura   of   sensuality   both   innate   and   ineffable.

She   advances, emulating   the   splendor   of   a   primordial   nymph,   a   saunter   that   encapsulates   her   within   the   infernal   universe   he   has   diligently   orchestrated—a   Persephone,   sovereign   of   their   nocturnal   kingdom,   a   realm   now   under   his   dominion.   A   vampire   princess,   consort,   upon   whom   a   nascent   epoch   is   poised,   she   personifies   not   only   her   chosen   path   but   also   the   fate   of   the   one   whose   desire   for   her   knows   no   bounds.   To   the   observants,   she   is   the   quintessence   of   feminine   appeal   and   suppleness,   an   icon   of   disdain   and   admiration.   Her   magnanimity   knows   no   limits,   extending   even   to   those   deemed   unworthy   of   her   regard.

As   Inoue   approaches   the   throne   room,   her   delicate   palms   engage   the   barriers,   parting   them   with   a   poise   that   belies   the   profound   strength   within. "Have   you   summoned   me,   my   beloved   Lord?"   Intones,   her   voice   a   serene   consonance   that   permeates   the   majestic   expanse,   as   she   traverses.   She   advances   toward   the   throne,   where   he   presides,   an   obelisk   of   calm   and   majesty.   Her   gaze   intersects   with   Astarion's,   offering   a   bow,   a   pledge   of   obedience   and   esteem.   His   response,   a   sonorous   timbre   both   grandiose   and   ardent,   urges   her   to   elevate   her   exquisite   countenance.   A   gentle   smile   expands   upon   her   margins   as   she   rises   once   more,   her   demeanor   unshaken.   "As   many   times   as   you   wish.   I’m   here   to   serve   you,   to   please   you,   to   make   you   delighted."   Utters.   With   an   effortless   movement,   her   digits   meander   to   the   embroidery   that   secures   her   satin   vestment,   allowing   it   to   descend   in   a   smooth   cascade   to   the   floor,   her   form   denuded   before   his   covetous,   crimson   look.

@estarion - ASCENDED

[prismaticpichu]

Weenie Hut Jrs anti-Nibelheim request!

Flock of puppies🐶

Nibelheim Roadblock #2 ~ “Flock of Puppies 🐶”

Omg that is GREAT!! Ahhhhhh <3333

~

No one could believe their eyes.

No one.

No. One.

And it was a completely, utterly rational response too. Anyone else would have had the same reaction had they been watching the spectacle unfolding before them—them, as in one Zack Fair, one Cadet Cloud Strife, one other sadly irrelevant SOLDIER, and one tour guider Tifa Lockhart. To all four of these nonplussed individuals, the great dome of reality itself was starting to seem mighty suspicious.

Because the sight of General Sephiroth, melted to his knees, absolutely swarmed by a litter of Nibel wolf pups as he struggled to stroke and fondle them all, was not exactly something one could prepare themselves for.

“Gaia… look at those eyes…” No one had ever heard such raw, heartfelt fondness in the General’s tone before, two strong gloves squishing the cheeks of one of the slate-shaded pups—a pup whose tail was nothing but a whipping grey blur, wagging and smearing against the garnet sky that blanketed their morning.

“Ruff!”

“….Unbelievable,” Cloud breathed through his helmet.

“Can you believe this?” Zack folded his arms, watching now as the slaty pup rolled onto its side to receive a series of loving tummy rubs.

“No, I really can’t.” Cloud looked at his friend. “That’s why I said, ‘unbelievable.”

…How had this happened? How…? How had their unmovable, stoic leader possibly devolve to such a squishy state…?

Well, for one thing, it only happened about nine minutes ago. And what did happen was really just a perfectly-aligned amalgamation of over-efficiency, convenient timing, and a heart that was caught by surprise.

————

About 9 minutes ago

They were just about to cross the bridge when he heard it.

Sephiroth stopped in his tracks, bristling, snapping one hand in the air like an armored traffic cop to halt the rest of the squad behind him. Somehow he had managed to walk ahead of their designated tour guide and take the reins; either way, though, those reins were his, and the rhythmic sound of boots crunching into dirt froze all at once behind him.

“…What’s going on?” Cloud asked his friend, having hung in the back of the train with Zack.

“Seph senses something,” Zack answered easily. He blinked towards the General, well-accustomed to his odd and somewhat spooky ways. “What’s up, buddy?”

Sephiroth didn’t respond; he just merely narrowed his eyes, focusing on the sound—on what had plucked his attention. It was faint, yes…. distant… but there was an underbelly of aggression. A veneer of something violent. And that was enough for concern.

He wasn’t about to let another monster ambush them like that dragon had. He wasn’t going to fail again.

The graceful song of metal echoed through the air as Masamune was unsheathed. Sephiroth turned his head, turning towards the source of the sound—a small, natural barricade of jagged rock.

“Alright, we tackling something?!” Zack lit up with a smile, reaching behind his back for his own hefty sword.

“No.” Sephiroth stopped him before his hand could make it. “You stay back; keep the others safe.”

And before Zack nor the others could protest about their adequate survival skills, Sephiroth made his way over to the rock formation.

The sound got louder, the closer he got. More defined. Sharper.

A snarl.

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes further, shifting his blade in his hand, pearls of raw daylight scintillating off the metal as he reached the slab of stone. As he reached it, and slunk around it, and prepared to—

…

…

…

Well, one could probably predict what happened next.

———

“Shouldn’t you, y’know, intervene or something?” Tifa cast her own glance to the spiky SOLDIER. “We kinda got a job to do.”

By now, all the puppers were on their backs, Sephiroth running his gloves over the combined terrain of their fuzzy bellies as they kicked and squirmed and chirped with all sorts of playful barks in a hopeful plea that the massage wouldn’t stop. Zack’s eyes softened to dough.

He’d never seen Seph look like that before. Never seen him so… so… relaxed. So calm. So at ease. So open.

He’d never see him smile like that.

So much warmth flooded Zack’s heart then, as he caught sight of the soft, genuine curl on Sephiroth’s lips. It was veiled, yes, discrete… but he could still see it. And it was the biggest smile Seph had ever given.

No…. he couldn’t pry that happiness away from his friend. He wouldn’t. He’d let Seph cherish every second of this, even if they had a “job” to do. Gaia knew Seph did enough as it was.

“Alright, new plan!” Zack clapped his hands together, grasping everyone minus Sephiroth’s attention. “Me & Tifa are gonna head to the Reactor ourselves. Spiky and, erm… other guy, you stay back and keep an eye on Seph.”

“My name is Carl!” the infantryman corrected.

“We… we have to watch over the General?!” Cloud added with obvious confusion. “Isn’t that—“

“Yes you do!” Zack chirped. ��No telling what kinda danger Seph’ll miss while he’s infatuated by puppies.” He didn’t wait for another response before whirling back to Tifa, smiling like the rising sun behind them.

“On we go!”

———

The trip to the Reactor went smoothly, all things considered. Genesis showed his face when they got there—Ifrit knows why—and completely blew up upon hearing that Seph got sidetracked by puppies. Anyway, guy eventually flew away and they fixed what needed to be fixed no problem. Bridge was a little wobbly on the hike up and back though—prolly couldn’t handle more than two folks. But they made it across just fine, both ways, and the sun was just beginning to descend as they rejoined the rest of the squad.

And lo’ and behold, Seph was still playing with the puppers.

Whatshisname had fallen asleep against a rock, Spiky still standing on-guard as instructed. But he did look tired. And bored. And kinda numb.

Alright. Prolly time to pack it up.

“Hey, buddy.” Zack started towards his friend, all the wolves having fallen fast asleep against his lap in a myriad of different positions. Sephiroth glanced up to meet him.

“You ready to go back yet?”

Sephiroth returned his gaze to the sleeping puppies, silent. It was clear what was unspoken in the air between them, what plea was being made.

“I know you don’t wanna leave them, Seph.” Zack kneeled beside him. “But….” The words twisted his heart, knotted his tongue. “We gotta go back. Reactor’s all clear.”

Sephiroth blinked slowly, letting out a sigh, looking back to the swathes of grey draped all over him.

“They… trust me,” he said then. “They know… I won’t hurt them.”

Zack was quiet for an undeterminable amount of time. Nothing seemed right to say, really. Not in that moment.

No wonder Seph got so attached so quickly. He had found someone—multiple someones—who weren’t afraid of him. Who didn’t run away, who didn’t flee when catching sight of him. Who didn’t assume the worst.

He didn’t want to let that go.

Doughy eyes melted even further. “Seph…” Zack leaned closer to him. And then, a soft smile of his own graced his lips, raising his arms to gently wrap around his friend’s form.

“Hey…. I trust you…” he said softly.

Sephiroth could only blink again, this time in surprise, in confusion, the tender weight wrapped around his upper body too delicate to make him stiffen.

Tifa and Cloud watched on, struck incredulous all again.

“…The folks back home are never gonna believe this trip…” the girl muttered.

Zack held his older friend’s figure and gaze, gazing deep into the emerald eyes rippling with awe of their own.

“See? I know you’re not gonna hurt me,” he said with a lingering smile. “You’d never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it.”

…Never.

Sephiroth blinked again—and again, and again, and again, swatting away any remnants of glass trying to invade his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak.

“Aha! I’ve found you!”

And before any words could leave, a crippled blur of crimson and black shot down from the sky, alighting with a stirring of dust and stones as the figure collected himself and straightened.

“Genesis!” Zack shouted indignantly, tightening his gentle hold upon feeling Sephiroth bristle. “What you want?!”

“So you think you can hide from ol’ Genesis, do you?” He let Zack’s question ricochet from his ears, sailing towards the still-sitting Sephiroth—Sephiroth, whose eyes were narrowing by the second, a grid of slightly uncanny teeth flashing into view. Think you can avoid your fate by… by what?” He squinted for a closer look, looking at the snoozing fuzzballs. “Babysitting wolves?”

“Stay away from them!” the warrior snapped darkly. “I’m warning you, Genesis.”

It would have been a little more intimidating had he not been sitting criss-cross applesauce, but he digressed.

“Oh believe me, I’m not here for your whelps.” Genesis not so subtly eyed Zack, who didn’t have time to think of a retort before continuing on. “I’m simply here to inform you about something. Something that is LONG overdue.” He strode closer, closer, a certain haughtiness pulling at his leaden lips as he shouted,

“You, Sephiroth, my old friend, are a—

And just as Sephiroth had been rudely interrupted moments before, just as the words had been pried from his lips, every wolf snoozing on that warm leather coat snapped awake then.

—monstaaaaaaaAAAHHHHHHHHHH!”

And every wolf proceeded to lunge at Genesis then, an entire stampede of grumpy Nibel puppies proceeding to chase the shrieking auburn across the mountains and out of sight.

Tifa and Spiky exchanged a Look.

Sephiroth, meanwhile, sat flat on the ground, staring off into the horizon that had taken his friends away.

“Goodbye…” he mumbled quietly, completely stripped of the fluffy, fuzzy, indescribable warmth that had been enveloping him just moment before.

Well… not for long.

Zack rewrapped his arm around the crestfallen warrior’s shoulders, that gentle smile resurfacing as Sephiroth turned again to face him.

“Let’s head back to town,” he offered kindly. “I saw a really cute wolf plushie in one of the windows—and, well… I just soooooooo happen to have brought souvenir change.”

It took a few beats, but Sephiroth smiled.

[astridlikesmythology]

SPOILER ALERT!!!

Steven universe info dump!

Lore in cronilogical order: long ago on a far away planet known as homeworld, four diamonds are formed. White diamond, yellow diamond, blue diamond and pink diamond. White diamond was the leader of all the gems. She strived for perfection, destroying anything she deemed imperfect. Pink diamond was the smallest diamond, all the others had countless planets under their rule, and she had none. She begged and begged for her own planet and White finally gave in and gave her earth. Pink was extatic about finally having her own planet. She was happy with this for a bit, but eventually she wanted even more. She got into a heated argument with the other diamonds, cracking her first pearl(known as pink pearl). She stormed off and the diamonds gave her a new pearl(the one in the show), she grew close with this pearl and started talking about her dreams of running away. She takes the disguise of rose quartz and starts sneaking off to earth with her pearl. She decides she's gonna fake her death and permanently take the form of rose quartz. Before running off she leaves her companion spinel in her garden under the guise of a game. She has her pearl asist in faking her death. She runs away and turns permanently into rose. On the way out they meet a newly formed garnet and convinced her to join the rebellion. They all run away to earth where they meet a newly formed amethyst and they take her on as well. Along the way somewhere, they meet bismuth. They gather even more gems on the way. They start the rebellions efforts on earth to keep it safe from the diamonds. I think it's around this time that the cluster is planted (the cluster is an amalgamation of shattered gem pieces artificially fused together.). Sometime around this Era, the diamonds start shattering rebellion members, even one event involving a beam of light that corrupts all gems it touches, causing casualties and both sides of the battle. Bismuth shows pink a weapon made for shattering diamonds, which she refuses to use. Bismuth gets violent when she refuses without explanation, thinking this could end everyone's suffering. Rose bubbles bismuth and tells everyone she was shattered. Eventually the rebellion loses to many people and the remaining members (garnet, amethyst, pearl and rose) move into hiding at the beach house. Rose met Greg at his less then successful concert. Slowly, to pearls dimay, they begin falling for each other. Eventually (don't think abt the logistics, it doesn't make sense) rose becomes pregnant with Steven. The gems all disagree with her decision but she gives up her physical form so Steven will live. The gems briefly kidnap Steven and Greg's van when he isn't looking and try to coax rose out of her gem (which is attached to steven). When that doesn't work pearl tries to remove the gem but baby Steven cries and she feels bad so she stops. Pearl finally accepts she isn't getting rose back and they give Steven and the van back to Greg. Steven spends the majority of his childhood with the gems as a van isn't the best place to raise a child. When Steven is 13 he goes on his first mission with the gems. Sometime around here steven meets Connie and they learn they can fuse. After that they go on even more missions and eventually the diamonds take notice. When they do notice they start attacking again. During all this pearl is training Steven and Connie to fight. Peridot arives to check the cluster, the gems catch her and find out about the cluster. Peridot eventually starts liking earth so she (reluctantly) agrees to help stop it from ending the world. Steven friendships the problem away. They eventually get kidnapped by the diamonds. Steven friendships REALLY HARD until pretty much everything is better. They go back to earth and the diamonds start fixing all the stuff they messed up. Steven and the gems start little homeworld aka how to gem without being terrible people 101. Steven and Connie grow up and have family etc etc. The end (sorry, I lost motivation like halfway through but I promised to finish it today.)

Random fun facts: kindergartens are a place where a bunch of materials to make gems are planted in the ground, gems hatch out of the ground in these places, not all gems are formed this way though. Gems are actually light projections, the only real Physical part is the gem itself.

Random pearl facts: her main wepon is a spear, she also enjoys ballet! she was sworn to secrecy by rose and no one but pearl knew about rose being pink diamond until years after Steven was born.

Sorry if any of this is incorrect or I missed something! This is all from memory.

@mx-werebat

[rock-swag-tournament]

Semifinals and Announcements

...garnet. ANYWAY semifinals coming up!!!!! The polls for the semifinals will be up soon (like tomorrow), but in the meantime, some exciting news.

I have gained many many followers since I first made this blog and started posting polls. In light of that (and in light of the fact that the mineral tournament is almost over)...

I am reopening the rocks submission form!

Considerations and rules this time around:

A rock is a solid material made up of minerals. The only strictly minerals I will include in the tournament are things like rock salt or rock gypsum because those specifically are considered evaporate sedimentary rocks. That being said, if you aren't sure if something is a rock or a mineral, submit it anyway! And if it's a mineral, I will simply not include it in the tournament (sorry).

Please no funny or fictional rock submissions. If you want to submit funny or fictional rocks/minerals/etc use THIS FORM.

Please do not include specific rock formations or regional types of rocks. If you want to submit those things, do so HERE. This includes things like specific names for granite/gneiss/marble countertops (Wavy White/White Wave, Santa Cecilia Granite, etc); specific rocks like Old Harry and his Wife, the Cliffs of Moher, Balanced Rock at Arches National Park, or the Grandstand Formation in Death Valley; or regional rock formations/stratigraphic units like the Oriskany Sandstone which is a white sandstone formation or the Beekmantown Formation which is made of dolomitic sandstones and carbonate rocks, both of which are found on the east coast of the U.S. I am debating including these with the other rocks, or maybe doing a mini-tournament with just these submissions. I have I think six submissions already that would fall into this category.

Please do not include fossils. If you want to include fossils, get more information on a potential fossil tournament HERE. Rocks made of fossils like coquina or fossiliferous limestone are allowed because they're not ONE specific fossilized species. They're an amalgamation of many fossilized organisms from multiple species and are not necessarily defined by the species included in the rock. I had a couple submissions for petoskey stone when I first opened the form, and I was kind of conflicted about it. I'm going to say that because it is a single species (rugose coral) it will NOT be included in the rock tournament. That being said, I think it would be fun to have a fossils tournament! And again, more information on that HERE.

So,

Submit Rocks Here

Submit Fun/Fictional Things Here

Submit Specific Rocks/Rock Formations Here

Get more information about Fossil Tournament Here

[onenakedfarmer]

BLACK OWNED BOOKSTORES List courtesy of Publishers Weekly

Activists across the United States are encouraging book lovers who want to show support for the ongoing protests against police violence to buy books from black-owned and African American–focused bookstores. PW has compiled a list of black-owned stores for readers.

44th and 3rd Bookseller, Atlanta, Ga.

A Different Booklist, Toronto, Ont.

The African American Literature Book Club, online

AfriWare Books, Maywood, Ill.

Amalgam, Philadelphia, Pa.

Ashay by the Bay, Vallejo, Calif.

Atomic City Comics, Philadelphia, Pa.

Babycakes Book Stack, Online

Between the Lines Bookstore, Baton Rouge, La.

Beyond Barcodes Bookstore, Kokomo, Ind.

Black Garnet Books, Minneapolis, Minn.

Black World Books, Killeen, Tex.

Blackstone Bookstore & Cultural Center, Ypsilanti, Mich.

Book Boutique, Atlanta, Ga.

Books and Crannies, Martinsville, Va.

Brian Lair Books, South Bend, Ind.

Brave and Kind Books, Decatur, Ga.

Cafe Con Libros, Brooklyn, N.Y.

Carol's Bookstore, Sacramento, Calif

Cultured Books, St. Petersburg, Fla.

Da Book Joint, Chicago, Ill.

Dare Books, Longwood, Fla.

Detroit Book City, Southfield, Mich.

Enda's Booktique, Duncanville, Tex.

Eso Wan Books, Los Angeles

Eye See Me, University City, Mo.

For Keeps Books, Atlanta, Ga.

Frugal Bookstore, Roxbury, Mass.

Fulton Street Books & Coffee, Tulsa, Ok.

Harambee Books, Alexandria, Va.

Harriett's Bookshop, Philadelphia, Pa.

Hakim's Bookstore, Philadelphia, Pa.

Loyalty Bookstore, Washington, D.C., and Silver Spring, Md.

Lushena Books, Bensenville, Ill.

Mahogany Books, Washington, D.C.

Marcus Books, Oakland, Calif.

Medu Bookstore, Atlanta, Ga.

MeJah Books, Claymont, Del.

Mocha Books, Tulsa, Okla.

Nubian Bookstore, Morrow, Ga.

Olive Tree Books-n-Voices, Springfield, Mass.

Pyramid Art, Books, & Custom Framing, Little Rock, Ark.

Revolution Books, Berkeley, Calif.

Riches in Reading, Maryland City, Md.

Sankofa, Washington, D.C.

Semicolon Bookstore, Chicago, Ill.

Sister's Uptown Bookstore, New York, N.Y.

Sistah Scifi, Online

Smith & Hannon, Cincinnati, Ohio

Solid State Books, Washington, D.C.

Source Booksellers, Detroit, Mich.

Source of Knowledge, Newark, N.J.

The Dock Bookshop, Fort Worth, Tx.

The Black Reserve, Lansdale, Pa.

The Key Bookstore, Hartford, Conn.

The Listening Tree, Decatur, Ga.

The Lit. Bar, Bronx, N.Y.

The Tiny Bookstore, Pittsburgh, Pa.

Turning Page Bookshop, Goose Creek, S.C.

Willa's Books, Kansas City, Mo.

Uncle Bobbie's Books and Cafe, Philadelphia, Penn.

Underground Books, Sacramento, Calif.

Yoruba Bookstore, Brooklyn, N.Y.

Zawadi Books, Columbus, Ohio

[imlivinginyourtrashcan]

I didn't read any of that the moment I knew what was about to happen

I'm lying

But,to set the record straight,my version is a MAGICAL GIRL fusion,that would kinda look like a unnatural fusion between all of them,kinda like how garnet looks after first being fused kinda thing,not whatever THAT NIGHTMARE FUEL IS,dear God what have they done to my boy sans. . .

Ywah the minute i saw "amalgamation" in your bio the undertale kid in me broke looze; grabbed the Neo Trio and mashed them with Sixbones

[chilapis]

As a result of being burdened by knowledge, and an indulgent inability to remain silent, I would like to discuss scent notes and perfumes that I associate with Childe in consideration of his nature and nurture. I’ll also likely be redoing the post in which I compared him to garnets (x) tomorrow; this is because that post was genuinely intended to be a skeleton and there are many details that were overlooked, both in regards to him and the stone itself, which feels like injustice twofold. Anywho, let’s begin.

For the purposes of this, I’ll first be tackling the elephant in the room. The official Tartaglia perfume, which was formulated by Primaniacs in collaboration with MiHoyo. I do not care for this perfume, I disagree with half of its the associations, and I will personally be disregarding it here onwards because I’m not legally prohibited from doing so.

It should be noted that aside from the “Tartaglia” name and face slapped onto this scent, it also mentions its association with the hydro element; I do not think it would be unreasonable to believe that this perfume can be seen to extend to the hydro element as a whole rather than be exclusive to him. This is the interpretation I choose to utilise.

I will however state my (reluctant) agreement with few of the associated notes mentioned. Namely, Tonka Beans; Bergamot and Orange flower (mentioned together as they will be tackled in one go); Cumin and Nutmeg, and Agarwood.

Tonka Beans make sense on several grounds; firstly, they’re actually one of the most common ingredients in masculine brews (see: Giorgio Armani Black Code; Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille; Givenchy Givenchy Play Intense). Tonka creates a beautiful and comforting warmth in the scent; it’s quite similar to vanilla, but much… smokier, one may say. You’ll notice that a lot of the ingredient I focus on will have much to do with warmth. Historically, the seeds would be dried and soaked in rum for a certain amount of time in order to extract the scent, though artificial substitutes exist to offer the same result now.

Bergamot and Orange Flower are both citrus notes, though the former offers a much stronger one in comparison to the citrusy-floral amalgam that the latter offers. The reason I agree with these is that citrus notes are seen as quite common in aquatic scents as they recall the freshness of the sea breeze (see: Armani Giorgio Acqua Di Gio; Royall Lyme of Bermuda Royall Yacht; Czech & Speake Ausonia).

Cumin and Nutmeg are both spices, so one can imagine that they lead to a warm, comforting, and, well, spicy, scent. Remember how I said only a short while ago that warmth will be a prominent focus of mine? Exactly. No matter where he travels to, no matter where he goes, I’m quite certain he’d like a scent that reminds him of home; considering perfume etiquette requires one to wear fragrance according to the weather and occasion, I imagine warmer scents will be much more reminiscent of the contrasting, overbearing cold conditions that his nation offers.

Agarwood (the wood of Gods) — often interchangeable with oud in the fragrance world, despite both different— is such a deliciously warm and spicy note as well; it can be a bit overwhelming for some if it is found to be too heavy in a scent (which is quite common and rather easy to manage) but it can provide such a delicious base if handled right.

With these justifications done, I will now begin to write the notes that I personally associate with him.

I simply cannot deny the association of musk; another one of the most common notes found in perfumes. It’s warm, it’s soft and heavenly, it’s delicious. It is often seen as bringing a more primal, instinctual, and almost animalistic mood to the fragrance. This comes as no surprise considering it was historically obtained from male musk deers’ glands, even if we are now able to enjoy this scent artificially as well due to modern development and discoveries.

Speaking of animal origins and perfumes, did you know that whale vomit was traditionally a rather popular ingredient in perfumes? Ambergris is a substance that comes from the digestive system of sperm whales; it smells quite foul when fresh, as one would reasonably expect. It smells like faeces, actually. Again, as one would reasonably expect. However, it… becomes pleasant after drying down? Warm, musky. Ambrein is then extracted from the ambergris to be used in brews; rather, it is the quantity of of this alcohol that dictates the quality of the ambergris. It is still used, however due to issues with both cost and access it has been replaced with a synthetic counterpart for the most part, with notable exceptions. It also has a history of being used an aphrodisiac? But so has musk, so, such usage is quite common with animal-origin ingredients and notes, but I digress. It was just a fact I find somewhat curious.

Leather is a big one as well. Do I have much explanation for this? No. Leather scents can come in a wide variety, from smooth, cozy, suave and sensual, to rough, primal, smoky, and beastly. It mostly depends on what ingredients are being used and which notes are being aimed to replicate; the fragrance house of Memo, Paris is extraordinary at replicating different types of leather scents; they’re arguably my favourite when it comes to scents, actually. But either way, there is a kick to it; a spicy, warm, and intense presence that you cannot deny.

I would like to give special mention to saffron, tobacco, rum, gin, bourbon, amber (especially amber), vanilla, cardamom and other spices for bringing a similar warmth and comfort to their scents that I’m absolutely certain would suit him very well. Also vetiver, because it brings a woody delight to any fragrance it embraces.

Now comes the discussion of perfumes; arguably what I’m most excited for and the main reason that I wished to write this.

First off the list is Ocean Leather, by Memo, Paris.

Now, the official site claims it to comprise of Vetiver, Nutmeg, Cedar, Mandarin oil, Sage, and a leather accord. It also has basil and elemi, so I’m certain you can imagine how all of this together with the mandarin oil would offer you a truly citrusy, aquatic scent, combined the comfort of leather, nutmeg, vetiver and cedar. This, along with the gorgeous whale artwork, makes this almost perfect for him. Almost.

This is the only one in the list that I haven’t smelt myself (because somehow, much to my dismay, no stores seem to be carrying it) however, I’ve heard a lot of people review it to be more of a… clean scent? Which I feel doesn’t suit Ajax at all.

For the record, fragrances are often divided as being either clean scents, or dirty scents. Clean scents are those that are not overwhelming, these are scents containing light, refreshing notes. You should expect something like citrus-heavy, something that’s very suited to spring with light, fresh floral notes. Something you’d smell in a professional setting, in an office perhaps. It’s a mild, timid scent. And I do not think it suits Ajax in any sense of the way, whether you take into account his domestic life or his professional life.

Dirty scents are warm, musky; they’re heavy, they’re entrancing, they’re so deeply connected to the Earth. They feel like browns and reds, like clay. No matter which face of him you choose to assign a scent to, it’ll likely fall under this. Imagine the sweet and gentle atmosphere at home, where he and his siblings huddle together as he cherry-picks the details of the sights he witnessed adventures, ensuring to leave out all the parts unfit for the children to hear. Do you imagine him to smell like a bouquet? Or do you imagine him to smell like home itself? A smoky sweetness that shares the depth of the abyss as it mixes with his body’s chemistry?

Or, imagine him in the battlefield; would this man smell like spring? Or would he smell like a mix of iron, sweat, musk and leather? There you have your answer.

So I’m not all too sure about this fragrance simply because I don’t have a personal reference to go off of, and everyone that I know in real life, as well as every online forum I seem to run into, calls it very light. I even saw someone refer to it as an office-scent? He is not wearing a damn office scent. However, if the citrusy notes are at balance with the leather and nutmeg and it’s offering a conflicting, fresh yet potently warm fragrance? That suits him perfectly.

The second fragrance I’d like to discuss is Royall Yacht by Royall Lyme of Bermuda.

It is another aquatic fragrance and my goodness am I in love. It perfectly balances that need for aquatic accords through citrus and that need for warmth through the warmer notes. It has vetiver, lemon, cedar, musk, and amber (along with a few floral notes but they’re not the focus). Although reading off of the notes, one might imagine this to not be so strong in its aquatic mood due to the citrus being so limited, but reviews will prove otherwise. Most people state that it perfectly encapsulates the feeling of the lulling sea breeze as one sets sail. This does come with its own issue however, and that is the fact that this house in general (Royall) is not… particularly known or admired for the longevity of their fragrances. What I’m saying is that their fragrances don’t last very long at all. I say this from personal experience (due to owning a few fragrances) as well as online observation; perhaps an hour or two at most and then they are as good as gone, and that is if you’re not partaking in any strenuous activities that might make you break out in a sweat. I imagine this wouldn’t even last ten minutes on him, so I don’t, quite see a point in its purchase or wear for such an active man.

The third I’d like to discuss is Opus XIV Royal Tobacco, by Amouage.

The notes are within the picture above: we’re seeing cardamom, musk, vetiver, agarwood, osmanthus, tobacco, licorice, benzoin, bergamot: I’m sure that you can tell that we’ve left the aquatic scent category by now. Though bergamot is present to give a citrusy feel, it’ll most just heighten the intensity of the other notes rather than offer its own unique mood. It’ll be a very dark, carnal, spicy scent with a lot of depth and smokiness to it; perhaps not suited for Ajax, a gentle family-man, but certainly fitting for the 11th Harbinger. I adore the longevity of Amouage fragrances, they’re known for their gorgeous bottles and their interesting ingredient and note selection, and this perfume is no exception.

It is such a mouthwateringly delicious scent, I cannot stress this enough. Also, the handle is made to recall the image of a Khanjar in one’s mind; Khanjars are traditional Middle Eastern and South Asian blades in the shape, usually worn by men on the hip. They’re crafted in the shape of a ‘J’ and their handles are made from a variety of materials, including but not limited to bone (especially camel bone), gold, and silver.

My last and most important association is that of Iberian Leather, by Memo, Paris.

This is such a beautiful winter fragrance; I actually got it not too long ago but I have been so deeply in love with it. It lacks aquatic accords but it has a spiciness that can handle his duality. This fragrance can provide that intimidating, overwhelming, animatic atmosphere but it can also surround one with that comforting, cozy urge to huddle in. I call it a winter fragrance because it is just that heavy and warm; although I’m personally not one to follow the etiquette of limiting scents to seasons as I prefer heavier scents all year round, people have noted this to be perfect for winter use both in real life/personal expedience, and in online discussion. Its notes include cedarwood, vetiver, agarwood, oakmoss, amber, musk, vanilla, osmanthus, cinnamon, bergamot, clove, saffron, sandalwood, and a few flower notes as well. So you’re once again getting that wooziness and that spice but you’re not getting the sweet and tender darkness of tobacco and licorice. It’s still intense and it’s still deeply layered in its scent profile but it’s not dark. It’s something that’ll suit him no matter the situation he is in or who he has in his company, and this is arguably one of the best scents to douse your winter coat in because it is so, comforting, so warm, so cozy. It is so earthen and natural. It feels like sitting next to a bonfire on a cold night. It feels like him. Not to mention, the longevity of this (or, the whole house, rather) is very impressive; you can apply it in the morning and it’ll still very much be on you when you sleep, even if barely. No matter how hot it is outside, how much you’ve been sweating, it will be on you, so help you god.

I would also like to give special mention to a few other perfumes that were close but fell short, such as Russian Leather Memo Paris; Giorgio Armani Acqua Di Gio; Giorgio Armani Black Code; Flåm Memo Paris; Vancleef & Arpels Ambré Imperial; Vancleef & Arpels Tonka Imperial, and more.

With all associations and justifications stated, I’d like to conclude this post by also mentioning what he smells like? A lot of people forget to take into consideration that no fragrance smells the same on everyone; it has a lot to do with your body chemistry (& natural body odour) as well as what you’re doing throughout the day. For example, on some people, floral notes tend to be more prominent, while on others, vanilla or more gourmand notes might appear more prominent instead. Although I can’t speculate much on which notes would be more prominent on him (vanilla; I want to say vanilla) I do feel like he’d smell like a mix of his chosen fragrance and iron. I feel like from being in battle all day, the scent would become… even more him, due to constantly mixing with his own sweat and body odour throughout the day, which then further combines with the unmistakably metallic scent of blood if business requires more extreme measures,

I will say however I imagine his fatui fur-collar cloak to smell like the most comforting thing in the world. I’ve noticed this to be quite common in winter clothing somehow, especially when you wear it quite commonly. One does not realise (and does not care, really) whether they have applied anything on it already and just about on their normal routine, spraying it over and over until it just… seemingly sets in, creating a scent so unique to the wearer because it now smells like them and the fragrance combined. It smells like home, it smells like all the memories of your past winters that you spent with those who love you. It smells like solace and relief and a happy ending and I think he deserves that bittersweet comfort of domestic nostalgia.

[apurva-real-estate-updates]

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This Article also posted on - https://medium.com/@apurvamalavde/experience-unmatched-luxury-at-kabra-garnet-top-builders-in-mumbai-unveil-exquisite-flats-for-de6defe73a2f

[amalgamau]

Roby?

So I know this is from a typo I did forever ago hut I saved it cuz it made me laugh. And since I haven't posted in forever let's all laugh. For inspiration... meet Roby!

I giggled at this for far too long. Thank you @arguably-so for their ability to help me shitpost. And as an alternative. Roby Rider!

I hope in these times this gives you a chuckle. Expect a new chapter somwpoint. It's been started but life do be like that.

[purplebigs]

Pink Obsidian

Pink pearl + Garnet + Steven + Amethys

[biscuitincharge]

“Aaaaand I knew it; there’s already footage from that trainwreck of a ‘party’ all over the Internet. I mean...major props to my Gem family for sticking up for Stevonnie when everything fell apart and all...(and...those two Jades as well? That was cool too)...even if it didn’t really do much of anything but get everybody poofed. All in all, worst party in the universe, and I am so glad those days are over.”