#apocryphis: neuvillette

[immobiliter]

@apocryphis sent a meme: so you lied to me. (from neuvillette to furina)

       Thank you, Furina. From this moment on, please live happily as a human. Just as I wished we could.

       The water had... gone. Just like that. As she'd stepped outside of the Opera Epiclese, having expecting the encroaching flood to burst its way in through the windows and doors, submerging her gilded throne as the prophecy had always foretold, Furina had been surprised to see those same waters recede without a trace. More surprising still was the sight of the people of Fontaine still living, breathing — as bewildered as she at the turn of events, but not dissolved. Alive. There, by the Fountain of Lucine, were a couple helping each other up. There was somebody else emerging from beyond the hill, soaked through, but walking.

       She did not understand what had just happened, whether the prophecy was wrong, whether the true divinity of Focalors had intervened somehow... or whether she hadn't failed after all. But the shock soon turned to terror as she glanced behind her, back through the doors of the Opera Epiclese, where her once-beloved courtroom and the Oratrice still remained. Everyone now knew that she was not the true Archon. She could not stay here.

       And so that was how Furina found herself back in the Palais Mermonia. Amidst the chaos and combined rescue efforts of the Maison Gardennage, the Spina and the Fortress of Meropide, it had been easy for Furina to return there unnoticed. Or so she thought. Her one prevailing impulse, one that had served her well throughout her endless charade and she found herself leaning on once more, was to run. She had to pack her things and leave. She did not know where she would go, but if the trial had proven anything, it was that she would no longer be welcome here. The people of Fontaine would never accept her again.

       Unfortunately for her, Furina was caught half-way through packing her belongings by a painfully familiar voice. She whirled around on the spot, feeling as guilty as ever under the weight of that steady, discerning gaze.

       “ No! I didn't, I — ” Oh, but she did. She'd lied to him and everyone else, for hundreds of years, though hearing the words spoken by Neuvillette held far more of a sting than they would have from anyone else. She'd had no friends, after all, only subordinates — and the Chief Iudex had been the most constant of them all.

       Lying, pretending, acting... it had become as natural to her as breathing, and even now, she could not force a truthful admission to her lips. She simply stared helplessly at Neuvillette, words deserting her in favour of an anguished cry, forcing her to turn away. Surely she'd already cried enough tears, and yet here they were again, pricking at the edges of her vision. Furina reached up to rub her eyes, steeling herself. Strength, Furina, one last time. Then you can leave the Palais Mermonia and never come back.

       “ Something happened in the courtroom. What was it? ” It was with a much smaller voice that she spoke now. Furina could recall little of what had happened after the Oratrice's verdict was read out, but she was sure that there was more to it than even that. Why had she heard Focalors', Mirror-Me's voice again, after all? Why had it felt like a goodbye? “ The prophecy... it didn't come to pass? ”

[daybreakrising]

@apocryphis: ❝ you have said nothing that requires forgiveness. ❞ and haha from neuvillette to vautrin --

There was never any remorse for the things he had done to those people. They had deserved it, and it had been necessary. He did not regret taking those lives, for staining his hands forever with their blood. It didn't weigh on his mind, steal his sleep. No - what kept him awake, what haunted his every step, was guilt for something else entirely.

The public gathered for his trial would not have seen it, but he had. He had the front row seat for the tragedy acted out within that court, the prime spot to witness the betrayal, the hurt that flickered oh so briefly upon the face of his closest - his only - friend. The friend he had renounced, publicly and scathingly, with all the conviction of a man speaking only truths.

And he had carried the guilt over that lie for the four hundred years he then spent adrift in an endless ocean.

He could never have dreamed of getting the chance to correct this falsehood. He had expected to die alone in the Fortress with Neuvillette believing for eternity that he had come to hate him. That was his punishment - not his sentence, nor the ruin of his name. To be afforded this opportunity felt... undeserving. He should not be allowed to lift the weight of that guilt after so long. Yet how could he not address it, when he has found himself so returned? Granted a second chance at life? It would be a black cloud hanging between them forevermore if he did not.

"I do not deserve to ask your forgiveness for the things I said in that courtroom, but you must know that there was no truth to my words-,"

He'd had an entire speech planned. He hadn't expected to be interrupted by that smooth, gentle tone, with words that sparked a fresh agony within his heart. How, how, after all this time, after everything he had done, could Neuvillette so easily forgive him of his sins?

You have said nothing that requires forgiveness. But how can that be true, when his own words ring inside his head like a curse? Is this what justice means to you? Answer me, Neuvillette! The venom in his voice is like a poison in his blood. Feigned it may have been, but it had been real to the one who mattered.

Vautrin has faced many awful things in his life - both in his previous existence and this new, strange one. He has stood witness to the depravity of humanity, committed atrocities with his own hands. He has shouldered grief that no one should be forced to bear, lost everyone who ever meant something to him. Yet it is those words, those soft, kind words, that break him.

He sinks to his knees before the Iudex, as though he has not the strength to bear his own weight. His head hangs, a mixture of shame and relief, and the raw emotion kept under lock and key within his heart breaks free of its shackles. The primordial swirls of colour swim beneath a watery sheen as ragged breaths are dragged in through parted lips, the fingers of one hand digging deep into the cloth covering his chest.

"I do not deserve this," he thinks - unaware that he also says this aloud. "I do not deserve you."

[reginrokkr]

✧ @apocryphis asked: "may i ask you something?" the voice of the sovereign does little to disturb the gentle drumming of the rain against the high windows of his chambers, pearls of water shimmering under moonlight and bathing them, near-asleep lovers, in healing silver glow. they are meant to drift to sleep, though neither one really needs it (but it is a pleasant ritual, to fall asleep with dainsleif in his arms, and his hand resting over his heart - one he has come to cherish as much as letting rainfall wash over him after too long a time cooped inside the walls of the palais) - and neuvillette almost feels the need to apologise for delaying that respite for his lover. almost. he is quite certain that once he hears what he has to say, dainsleif will understand where the dragon's thoughts have wandered too.

"you are much better travelled than i am, and must have heard your fair share of tales about them. certainly more than i have." neuvillette sighs, fingers absently grazing over his companion's shoulder as he speaks, shimmering eyes gazing over to the windows. " ... for many centuries, i thought i knew what to expect of the gods of this new world but... fontaine's recent developments and focalors'... demise - " neuvillette pauses, briefly. " ... have made me reconsider all that i had taken for granted."

eyes leave the falling rain trapped outside, and trail back to seek blond hair and the half-lidded sapphires shimmering underneath; an affectionate kiss pressed to the bough keeper's head as if to apologise for the odd timing of his questions. "you have seen what they have made of this world, good and worst - perhaps even met some of them... what do you make of them?"

Were Dáinsleif be asked what time of the day he favors, he wouldn't doubt to say night. Its darkness has never bothered him, having lived in a kingdom where hardly any light that bathes Teyvat in penetrated its deepest layers. Stars, countless as creatures in this world shimmering in the blanketed night sky keeping company to a moon coated with curses of the realm of death first, then a sun too ominous for those who never once saw its luster behind an entirely dark canvas. It is also the moment where dreams are born, dreams that people of that dreamless land wished to have. Night is the element Twilight Sword feels at ease the most, without that light he had no choice but get used to that can blind him when he's at his darkest moments.

But upon forming a relationship built in respect and trust above everything, with love thereafter... suddenly, his cold nights became warm; the dangers associated with this world's darkness melted with protection and a feeling of safety when he's in the dragon's arms; all the wrongs in the world that he works incessantly to right fade away if only just for a moment's repose.

Lunarescent knight nearly falls asleep if it weren't for Neuvillette's voice, softer than every calming raindrop hitting the windows outside. Sapphire irises look through albescent lashes at him, patiently in quiescent wait as a means to urge him to speak up his mind. Of all the topics they have addressed for the past centuries, the gods was, without a doubt, a prominent one. Except not in a manner of reflection upon encountering a crude reality right before their very eyes— in Neuvillette's more than his own, after watching the fall of a god. Not because of an act of rebellion from the humans' part as past instances in history, nor being slain by another god in a dispute for power.

Just as Leviathan conveys struggle in a moment when his beliefs are shaken by unexpected turns of fate, so Dáinsleif finds conflict in admittance of truths hard to utter.

◜In Khaenri'ah I met people of all walks of life with different ways of hatred towards gods, locals or outsiders who abandoned their faith and their homeland to find repose in another where they could find people with similar beliefs.◞ Suffice to say, as an aristocrat of high social standing and Twilight Sword, he was exposed to all, even absorbed some of it. ◜Due to their incessant pursue to find truths that discredit the gods and the kingdom's unique location nearby the Abyss, some of them were found and thus turned into the foundation to loathe these lying gods even more.◞

Even to this day, some of their arguments still stand true after having glimpsed into the truth of this world— the genesis of fate. In Dáinsleif's eyes, gods are no more than another kind of creatures that live in Teyvat with aptitude for higher power. But in essence, that is all these is about them: power. Not even they can understand themselves at times, even less humans nor realize when divine and mankind share more than they would believe. If only their delusions of grandeur didn't get in between.

◜Seizing the opportunity I had to look into the memories of this world, I have met all manners of gods, each with different ambitions and of different moralities. That, in combination with the existing gods at this moment of time, I can claim that not all of them can be of a kind.◞ His head accommodates on the pillow in a brief moment of contemplation, a sigh emerges from his nose. Similarly as Neuvillette has grown to like to do, Dáinsleif's bare hand reaches out to touch his beloved's chest, right over the post of his heart.

◜There are those who in their awareness of this world's imposed injustice by their own divine creators fought to the last to do something about it. Remus, God King of the olden Remuria is one such example: he sought to free everyone from the chains of fate with the creation of a symphony. Upon realizing the grave mistake he committed, everything he had caused... he didn't hesitate to forsake his life in order to mend his wrongs. Rhukkadevata, God King of Sumeru saw potential in humanity and used their dreams as a means to liberate this world from forbidden knowledge. Upon realizing that the last shard of forbidden knowledge was her, she forsook her life in order to eliminate the last remnants of defilement and herself from Irminsul. Focalors...◞ Another sigh follows, his hand snakes its way to cup the side of the Iudex's neck. ◜In order to save her people from an unjust curse and restore your missing dragonhood, she sacrificed her own life and her corresponding throne in the heavens.◞

◜What can I offer to gods like these, if not words of praise for their deeds?◞

Hard as it is to admit, it is the truth. No matter how much time he had spent in a kingdom that abhorred the gods or his personal beliefs on them, he can and will give credit where it's due. ◜Just as there are noble gods that are no more among us, or have lost the luster they held in the past...◞ Namely Nahida for one, young as she is for a god, she's doing what others weren't capable in millennia. ◜There are those who in their awareness of the higher divinities' deeds do naught for reasons that I cannot see beyond mere self-preservation.◞ Despicable in its own right, if he were asked. Too meek to do anything that could endanger their own lives, yet they behave even more timidly in their small revolts against the heavens. All their efforts insufficient if they truly seek a change unless what they fear is to become powerless or stop existing completely. ◜Little if anything can be said of those who aren't willing to make sacrifices to unfetter themselves from this unjust world.◞

Ultimately, seraphic hand reaches out to cradle Leviathan's face. Tender and encouraging, amorous and understanding. ◜It is hard to come to a solid conclusion when everything your beliefs are shaken. Nevertheless, I have faith in your judgement, that one day you will find your answer and act consequently. Until then...◞ Dáinsleif scoots closer to the dragon's body to press their foreheads together, albescent lashes flutter close. ◜Remember thus: the world won't stop for a decision to come, nor the examples I gave you make it any less constricted by unjust laws imposed by usurper gods. Nothing has to remain stagnant, either.◞

The same can be said for your king, whom no longer held animosity for us humans, creations of the greatest Usurper King... isn't that right?

[everlastiingiimmortals]

"No cause is lost as long as one fool is left to fight for it." hmmm neuvillette to jing yuan like we briefly discussed!

Raw lines. Closed! | @apocryphis

The bow of the adeptus' head offered to the dragon is low and courteous. "Would you consider me a fool then, your Honor?" Jing Yuan smiles, flicking an ear. "Not that I disagree with your sentiment; I suppose we are all a little foolish, my kind especially, for our loyalty to our lord remains as steadfast as rock... Mn. Foolish indeed, from any outside view. But it is nice to be a fool sometimes, no?"

A pause. The former Millelith general's expression softens, his voice growing quiet. "If I maybe so bold as to intrude, your Honor, is there something you are a fool for as well? You have seen and lived as much as I, yet Fontaine is an entirely different world from Liyue Harbor's humble ports. In my retirement, I seek new insights and perspectives. If you are willing to impart them, I am willing to learn."

[gemkun]

@apocryphis said : listen. the sender disobeys and you swat their curious hand away. (that feels like a wriothesley and neuvillette scenario -) ↬ ⭒˚｡🖁‧₊˚ 〖 down these mean streets . . . 〗

      ⸻       among   his   usual   duties   ,   with   a   crisis   averted   following   the   dissection   of   a   looming   prophecy   ,   the   iudex   is   assigned   to   new   heights   —   assuming   the   responsibilities   of   their   former   ruler.   a   seemingly   daunting   feat   ,   but   for   neuvillette   ,   it   is   simply   another   task   to   accomplish.   and   one   he   undertakes   with   the   intent   to   complete   to   the   best   of   his   ability.

  which   meant   ,   he   was   to   uphold   the   usual   principles   of   hospitability   and   pleasantries   ,   with   the   only   difference   being   the   absence   of   one   ,   unique   subject.   even   now   ,   the   stark   deficiency   sinks   into   him   —   were   it   not   for   the   phonograph.

  someone   ,   however   ,   had   taken   advantage   of   a   fleeting   moment   ,   and   with   a   light   strike   ,   he   dissuades   an   intrusive   hand   from   snatching   the   arranged   treats.   ❝   i   apologise   ,   wriothesley   ,   but   those   are   for   an   important   client.   if   you   are   peckish   ,   i   am   more   than   happy   to   summon   pastries   that   are   suited   to   your   liking.   ❞

  of   course   ,   his   preparations   are   in   advance.   a   habit   that   is   well   —   known   between   the   pair   who   idle   in   the   palais   mermonia.   for   that   reason   ,   the   chief   justice   suspects   this   must   account   for   the   duke’s   presence   ,   and   furthermore   his   knowledge   that   swiping   a   baked   good   would   hardly   desecrate   the   scene.   but   perhaps   ,   the   ordainer   views   this   as   an   opportunity   to   traverse   beyond   his   office   with   the   prison   guard   by   his   side.

  ❝   shall   we   visit   café   luteceto   to   browse   their   selection   ?   with   a   wide   variety   ,   there   will   surely   be   something   that   appeals   to   you.   ❞

[lunaetis]

@apocryphis asked :

🕯️ one for clorinde and neuvi!

send me 🕯️ to hear my character's inner thoughts about your character. || no longer accepting

─「クロリンデ」─  there had never been a time when HE was in the room and her eyes weren't instinctively searching for him. it became something innate, something much more than simple habit one would make with a conscious mind. it was like INSTINCT, how her eyes followed him, how her mind followed his, how her soul and every fiber of her being would follow his lead, his rules. him. ever since the FATEFUL DAY that he reached his hand out to hers, his frame towering over her smaller one since she was young. the hand that saved her from worser fate. from damnation.

                the very day she had sworn fealty to HIM and only him.

                the CHAMPION DUELIST wouldn't dare claim that she understood him, for the times she watched his eyes gazed out in the horizon line, she felt as though he was standing on a different plane than her and everyone else. there was a WALL separating them, a veil of water covering his form and it made his back so ... so alone. like he was going to be the only one left after everyone was gone.

                clorinde despised that idea greatly.

                " i wish to share his burden. " a soft mutter under her breath, one steep with loyalty and devotion. she was but a mere human, there were limited things she could offer to someone like him, yet, that wouldn't stop her. if her taking the BLADE as the champion duelist, as the executioner would aid in lightening what he took upon himself then that was what she would be. it mattered little how deep her hands must be drenched in crimson, nor the count of lives she must take in order to uphold the JUSTICE he governed.

                to her, he is justice, and she would be his SWORD until the very end. from the day he saved her, her life belonged to him and he could use her as he sees fit. if it ever comes a day that this blade must break, then so be it.

[zorkaya-moved]

No one lays a hand on Nahida because the Abyssal Serpent is having its eyes on her. Zarina doesn't like letting her allies get harmed when they've got her loyalty. Only she is allowed to play rough with them once in a while. She's selfish. // @apocryphis

[resolutepath]

I say do "love letter" for the ever so silly apocryphis Charlie, I dare you

you got it, boss! one love letter for @apocryphis

Ventium without a doubt, is one of the easiest people I have ever interacted with when it comes to creating connections. I feel so matched when we have ideas on the table like what if Osial & Neuvillette or Aventurine & Elio and the plotting is always full of interesting tidbits, observations or fascinating takes. I think Ventium's capacity for capturing the nuances of characters and diving beneath the surface to give more about them as an individual is something that keeps me so invested in our threads and the writing I see on dash. I believe the characters are real, flawed creatures, and I feel it when reading, I want to see them overcome their faults or get past what's inhibiting them but I can see how real it is (and this is very rambly of saying the characters are really well captured I'm away). Honestly I enjoy every interaction I get, wonderful mun, talented writer!

LOVE LETTER. // still accepting.

[csial]

❛ in spite of everything, you’re still you. ❜ + ❛ what on earth… have i become? ❜ combined, from neuvillette!

A lazy tip of the head returns the ancient god's heavy gaze upon the Iudex, an amused smile curling at the corner of his mouth, despite the emotion of the statement given. He ought consider it a compliment, that after so many years he is recognisable, unchanged at heart from the brash, emotive creature he always was, but there is a voice that reminds him he is little more than a creature of habit, outdated in this current world. A being of a time long since eroded, trapped in a world that no longer belongs to his kind.

"Oh, I would not judge yourself upon my standards, Neuvillette..." he murmurs, one hand stretching out to beckon the other to join him in his perch. He has found Fontaine a soothing nation, one that lessens the thrum of anger within him. He knows not if it is simply the expanses of water, or the one in control of it, but either way he likes to linger when he can have to excuse. Perching upon one of the benches that over look the glistening blue, the kingdom that these humans will never know as well as them, and letting the soothing sound lull his being into ease.

"You are what you needed to be for the time you needed to be it. Would you have traded our positions?" He scoffs after, for there is no one who would have taken his position. To be pinned beneath the waves within his own realm was insult enough, under the weight of Morx's spears that left him only able to churn the seas in a storm's tempest, it was galling. He was shackled, restrained, and left to rot. Had the Harbinger not been audacious enough to summon him, he would likely still be there. The scars across his back will remain testament to that time.

"Have you diminished yourself, perhaps..." That sharp tongue does not hold back as he muses aloud and yet, though cutting it is not fraught with intention to insult. "But you see what has happened to those of us who refused to conform. You kept us alive, gave us hope and now you can find your way between worlds..." And guide those of us too stubborn to change. "You are still the creature I knew, no matter what form you take. Are you not a being of hydro? It is in your very nature to change and craft your vessel, your entire being to fit the container needed, to be what is required. That is the beauty of our element." One he had forgotten.

He waits then letting it sink in, before audacious fingers curl beneath the sovereign's chin, guiding their gazes to meet. "In spite of everything, you are still you. No matter how distant you feel. The truth lies within the pulse of the waves and the beat of the tides. Nothing can take that from you." His touch is gone then and his gaze returns to the sea before them, a content smile sitting upon his face. It is not much of a pep talk, Beisht was always better than he at such things, but it is crafted to make the other think. He can only hope it is taken as intended, but he will weather the storm if it is not.

@apocryphis.

[delusionaid]

@apocryphis sent: "it truly is a privilege to have you and your sister visiting our shores, master kamisato." a pleasant breeze carrying the vivifying aromas of the nearby sea sweeps across the terraced plaza before the palais mermonia, overlooking the rest of the court of fontaine on what had been a sunny and joyful day (what feels like the first in a rather long time). further into the court, the fontaine film festival successfully holds today's screenings, aspiring filmmakers running amok while the chief justice and his guest quietly hang back - with different matters to tend to.

not that today would be too politically charged or work-heavy - neuvillette certaily hopes that his esteemed guest will also have a chance to enjoy what fontaine has to offer, but, selfishly, he must acknowledge a keen curiosity. that glowing hydro vision he sports echoes to him (he wonders if young ayato can sense it back - it is a fraction of his power after all, even though usurped and bestowed upon him by another); and he wonders... what kind of man is he, to have deserved this recognition in the eyes of celestia and focalors?

"i know inazuma has kept its borders closed for a very long time. to rekindle with the outside world must constitute a difficult time of transition, but i must say, the yashiro commission seems to be doing superb work. to reconnect through cultural exchanges, rather than war and conflict... there could truly be no better way to go." the chief justice muses, gaze turning to his young guest. "you and your sister have indeed inherited a heavy burden on your shoulders. but i am very impressed with the grace and dignity with which you both carry it."

Despite the disheartening things Ayato has heard about Fontaine's weather, the day proves to be bright and beautiful. The smell of the sea wafts through the city and while it is reminiscent of home, it isn't all that similar. There's a notable absence of the familiar brine (to his surprise, Ayato learned the sea around Fontaine is in fact a lake of fresh water and not an ocean) and the slowly decaying wooden piers of the Ritou that cling to the breeze on the shores of Inazuma. It's nice to be away from home, even if this isn't quite the joy ride Ayato makes it out to be, but a business trip - at least for him. He still has time to try the food and watch the Fontainians go about their daily lives, reminding himself that Inazuma's ways of thinking and living aren't all there is in the world. It's imperative to remember that in order to understand and plan ahead when engaging with other nations, yet to maintain the ways and traditions of his home is both part of his profession and a personal conviction.

Ayato bows to his host in gratitude, as custom commands. "We are grateful for your hospitality and warm welcome. With the border open, the Yashiro commission hopes to establish friendly relations between our nations and what better way to do this than through a shared celebration of our cultures? Food and games have a way of bringing people together." Of course cultural exchange is not the only way to connect, as the Iudex is certainly aware of after all the trade proposals he must have received in the previous weeks. Despite its closed borders, Inazuma's economy has remained stable and developed well in many branches, which has been advantageous in current trade negotiations.

"You honor us with your kind words. I've heard great stories about the Iudex of Fontaine and his virtuous character. Fontaine is lucky to have a man like you with such good morals looking over her affairs." The compliment is honest but half of Ayato's thoughts remain unspoken. Neuvilette is far more impressive than just his title as the Iudex; he's the subject of a great many rumors and stories. A man of his lifespan and ability naturally leaves questions in his wake. Is he a god walking among mortals? An uncrowned archon (if such a thing exists)? An adeptus like those protecting Liyue, or something else entirely? The possibility that he's a melusine is one such rumor that's come to Ayato's attention but he admittedly isn't sure what to make of it. In the last few days he's seen a few of these peculiar creatures walk around the city but so far there's been no time to inquire about them or even talk to one directly. At first glance it doesn't reveal itself to him, however, how one can look at them and count Neuvilette among them.

Could it be that there's a tie between them? He senses something from Neuvilette, something hard to put his finger on. A pull of something majestic, reminiscent of the feeling one gets when standing near a spring or waterfall, pure and powerful and ancient - something that is mirrored in the core of his own abilities. That feeling he taps into when using his vision; he feels it surrounding him now, stronger than normally, within his reach more easily than it has ever been. For the first time he doesn't need to look for it inside him, it's right there if he just reaches out. But there's no vision to match on Monsieur Neuvilette's attire, though of course it could be hidden, and Ayato is certain he's never had a convergence of this kind with another vision user either.

"Since I haven't had the chance to speak with many people yet, may I ask.. the melusines that live in your city. Are they native to Fontaine? Do they live in harmony with the other citizens?" Or are they like the youkai, mostly tolerated yet regarded with caution.

[immobiliter]

@apocryphis sent a meme: now you respect me because i’m a threat. (and one more but what about early furina and neuvillette...)

       To say that the last few months had exhausted her would be an understatement. Furina hadn't felt this way since the first few years of her reign as Fontaine's new archon, when paranoia had been her constant companion whenever she'd stepped foot outside of the Palais. Am I doing this right? Do they believe me? Have the doubts finally gone away? It had been a long time since she'd needed to fear anyone in Fontaine uncovering the truth of her grand performance, but now the danger came from inside of the very building from which she ruled.

       The Hydro Sovereign, Neuvillette — the biggest test yet, she figured, to the strength of her will to help her mirror-self defy this prophecy. For all that she'd done her research on the other six archons, like any true performer, there were certain things that Furina already knew about the role she had been born to play. She knew that the Heavenly Principles had usurped the Sovereigns upon their arrival to Teyvat, before creating the seven seats and forcing all gods to fight for them. And she knew that the power she was supposed to possess as the Hydro Archon was power taken from the Hydro Sovereign of old.

       He had no reason to like her, many to resent and threaten her authority and position, and perhaps that explained why these last months had been fraught with ups and downs. It was true that Neuvillette had taken to the role offered to him with quiet grace and dedication, and seemed to enjoy the challenge presented to him of managing Fontaine's justice system... but then there were moments like these, where annoyance got the better of him and a dragon's ferocity manifested itself as words that made her heart beat frantically against her ribcage.

       She looked up at him now, meeting those draconic eyes knowing full well that even the fraction of power he possessed would be enough to end her on the spot. Were he to ever discover the true extent of her powerlessness, of course, and that was why Furina took a deep, steadying breath, and defiantly put her hands on her hips...

       The laugh that rung out in the Chief Justice's office was derisive, disdainful, and cruel. And, unfortunately, necessary.

       “ Why would you be a threat to me, Neuvillette? You are a dragon without their true power. ” She needed to hit where it hurt. She always needed to hit where it hurt. “ I respect you because you are Fontaine's Iudex, and because my people have begun to look up to you as such. ” He needed to believe that the freedom and responsibility she'd given him was accompanied by a leash. That there was a limit to what she'd allow him to do — because, for all of Fontaine's sake, there was. “ But do not forget that I was the one who put you there and, if I withdrew that support, my people would notice. ”

[daybreakrising]

@apocryphis: "my understanding is that humans are not particularly fond of the rain. that they deem it an inconvenience at best, a danger at worst." the iudex muses, and sounds as though it is as much as reflection he makes for himself as he does for his companion. standing by the entrance of the palais in the company of captain vautrin, he extends a gloved hand, palm turned towards the sky, and allows droplets of water to accumulate there under the downpour - seemingly entirely unbothered by the dampness quickly permeating the sleeve of his coat. "what of you, vautrin?" he asks, primordial irises swirling with silent questions he tentatively allows to show in front of a man he catches himself tempted to call his friend (vautrin is a trustworthy man to the iudex of fontaine - should neuvillette lower his guard just as much?). "what do you think of it? you never seem to quite follow the mainstream consensus - i am quite curious to hear your thoughts. perhaps they would cast a light on a few questions i have been asking myself for a little while..."

The gentle drumming of the rain has been an accompaniment his entire life, it would seem to Vautrin. Perhaps it is his Fontanian upbringing, or perhaps it is because he has been surrounded by music for as long as he can remember, but the rain has always soothed him like a lullaby does a child. In fact, growing up, some nights he couldn't sleep without the background patter of raindrops against his window.

Sleep eludes him now for different reasons, but he finds it soothing nonetheless to watch the rain fall, to listen to the rhythmic drumming upon the roof. It is a comfort to him, where most consider it a hindrance; an annoyance.

The question posed to him by the Iudex summons forth a fleeting smile upon the captain's lips. He has seen the man many a time simply standing in the rain without a care whilst others dash by beneath umbrellas, heads bent beneath the downpour as they hurry to seek shelter. He has heard the whispers of those who have witnessed this unusual habit of the Chief Justice - many consider it strange, another example of how other Neuvillette is. Vautrin has never considered it strange.

"I think you will find that it is adults who dislike the rain, Monsieur Neuvillette." He remarks idly, his gaze trained upon a nearby puddle, watching as each ripple overlaps the one preceding it. "Children, I find, can never get enough of it. Just as with most things, the wonder at the world fades as time goes on, and we forget to enjoy the simple things in life."

But he hasn't yet answered his question. I am quite curious to hear your thoughts. It feels meaningful, to fall beneath the Iudex's curious gaze, for his thoughts to be considered important. There is a brief flutter of panic in the captain's chest - what if his answer is not to Neuvillette's satisfaction? What if his value is diminished for it?

"I... I find it a comfort, actually." There is nothing to say but the truth, and hope it is what Neuvillette wishes to hear. "And it has... fond memories, for me." He takes a step forward, relinquishing the cover that has kept him dry thus far. As soon as the first drops hit, he tips back his head, turns his face to the sky.

"My sister loved the rain more than she ever loved the sun. She was forever splashing around in puddles, spinning and twirling beneath the downpour, and always, always, with a smile on her face. It would take us twice as long to get home because she would hop from puddle to puddle along the way. Truth be told, I never hurried her. I didn't want to ruin her fun, even if I knew we'd be scolded by our parents for being late, for ruining our clothes. It was always worth the telling off, to see her so happy."

He closes his eyes then, just for a moment, and he can almost hear her delightful laughter ringing in his ears, the joyful shriek as he jumps, deliberately, into the puddle beside her, splashing them both up to their knees with water. He can see the brilliant smile as she dances beneath the rain, droplets scattering from her twirling hair and skirt.

And oh, how his heart aches.

"Rain is... music." With deep regret his eyes open slowly, blinking away the drops that have accumulated upon his lashes. "The way it strikes a different sound when it falls upon different textures, the rhythm it holds... For me, Neuvillette, there is nothing more beautiful than the song nature can create."

There's a pause, then, in which the captain hurriedly lowers his head, casts his gaze aside. Embarrassment, perhaps, at the baring of his soul so unexpectedly, a glimpse of the raw emotion that still lingers at his core. He wonders if perhaps he has crossed a line by being so... honest, so informal. Yet it is a mark, indeed, of the ease he feels in the presence of the Iudex, that he was able to lower his guard and speak of something so precious to him.

He blames Carole, of course. She has softened too many of his edges, it seems.

[reginrokkr]

@apocryphis asked: A dedicated and equally emboldened Iudex reaches for his hand, delicately locking their fingers together. He even allows himself to make eye contact. A truly sinful day is upon us.

Ah, but what is more sinful than two abominations in divine's eyes than a human and a dragon forced to rebirth as a man, natural enemies as per what history goes? They can wail for all Dáinsleif cares, were they bear witness of this unlikely union that only brings more strength and poses a higher danger to the usurpers, born from something as natural as understanding and more.

But today Twilight Sword won't entertain the idea any further. Instead, his mind is filled with ways to return Leviathan's display of affection with one of his own: free hand reaches up to cup his jaw, thumb tracing the warmth of his cheek to coax him to get closer for a gentle press of foreheads without ever breaking eye contact. If this is the most sinful Dáinsleif will be, he would gladly take it without rancor.

[iniziare]

It's late. The residents sleep peacefully behind closed doors, listening to the pitter-patter of the heavy rain. Those fond of traveling at such times are either ill-intentioned, or secretly pursuing the former. It doesn't matter who wins or loses. The rain will wash away all traces either way. When the dawn breaks and the sky clears, the mysterious guest would have been gone already, without a soul noticing.

Muse Navigation: All | Threads | Meta | Little Notes | Wishlist | Previous Blog / Archive Mains: delusionaid (Wriothesley [exclusive], Baizhu). apocryphis (Xiao, Neuvillette). immobiliter (Beidou, Dehya, Navia, Furina), resolutepath (Hu Tao, Bosacius)

Important Meta: — Attire Dissection: Part 1 — Identities, and the construction thereof. — Firm =/= 'rude'. — Weapons and their tie to Visions. — Yanshang Teahouse: Tidbits, part 1. — Chasm and the headspace it creates/warrants — Ramblings: Yanshang/Yelan crumbs in Chenyu

Some tidbits that are incredibly important for my portrayal of Yelan: (I will be adding to this list over-time and editing these! Last edited: June 3rd, 2024)

Attitude. Yelan is from the nation heavily inspired by China, a country that is very firmly rooted within specific customs tied to social etiquette, which all seem to emphasize a deep sense of respect and modesty. I take this a lot to heart with Yelan, who is shown in the game to function incredibly well within the bounds of diplomacy, alongside a rather playful demeanor. She harbors, as expected, a deep-rooted sense of respect for her elders as shown towards Uncle Tian, Xiao, and when she speaks of her ancestors; she seems rather 'reserved' and polite in her initial social approach, and these traits seem to stretch out across her general interactions, until a playful nature becomes more evident among those she's closer to. In league with this, Yelan is not overtly confrontational, nor will she be rude, even around targets surrounding her profession, whether big or small, she will never be rude nor condescending. In case you skimmed past it in the above links, I would suggest giving this a read, until I write up something more thoroughly.

Her ownership of Yanshang, and people's knowledge of said fact. For the love of all that is (un)holy, the takeover of Yanshang Teahouse after Tartaglia delivers its former owner into the hands of Liyue's authorities is not something that is common knowledge whatsoever. This may likely even stretch to even members of the Qixing outside of Ningguang and Uncle Tian (the Yuheng may be another), as the less people know, the better it may serve even the Tianquan herself. In essence, unless we've spoken about it directly, do not have your muse be aware of details that they have no way of knowing.

Shipping. I don’t see Yelan as someone who is particularly made for traditional romantic relationships in any cases outside of primarily one. I feel this way because of her line of work (and her likely inevitable fate), but more importantly so, the reason that draws her to take on the work that she does. After the loss of her team, she told Ningguang the following: “We both made a mistake: We shouldn’t have involved ordinary folk in what we do.” This shows that Yelan shoulders a burden that she believes others couldn’t and/or should never bear because of the fate that is tied to it. For Yelan, this speaks of such an inherent loneliness that she has chosen in her life and is okay with, which is presumably because it’s deeply-rooted in her due to the fate of her team, and the influence of her ancestors. But this decision makes her rather incompatible with most individuals, for she will, honestly, never give up what she does while she lives, and on top of that, rather refuses to involve anyone else in her business with and within the Chasm as a whole. In my opinion, this leaves the only people (for romantic long-term investments), ones who have or know a similar life to her. Someone who understands active willed sacrifice and the sense of isolation that comes along with that. It’s not filling loneliness with someone else, it’s finding the same loneliness in another by total and utter happenstance, for they understand this incomprehensible thing that many simply never will. (With that in mind, my default verse will inevitably work towards a ship with delusionaid’s Wriothesley. This is exclusive to her portrayal of him and will not be written with any other.)  

Physical Encounters. Based on how exemplary care she takes of herself physically, denying herself of simple pleasures such as sweets (usually) because they can too easily create an addiction and ‘disrupt focus’, I continue this across the board. The human body has its inevitable cravings, and so I do believe she indulges in physical encounters to relieve herself of this. I do not see these as ships, and they take place before and in the early phases of her slow-forming relationship with Wriothesley. Some examples of contenders for this? Kaeya, Beidou— and no, Ningguang is and would never be included in this lineup. But never fret, this is simply a personal headcanon of mine and will never be forced on you if you write any of these characters. If this is something you're interested in looking into, along with its potential complexities of even a potential one-sided development, it's always worth a whisper, and who knows where we'll end up.

[gemkun]

@apocryphis said : a small package, impeccable wrapped in elegant blue and silver paper, is set upon the funeral parlor's consultant's desk; the gift-giver, on the other hand, never fails to look a little too stiff, too formal, for an occasion that should be little more than an amusing celebration. "while there is much i have yet to learn about the role you have played in this world for the past few millenia before i can pass proper -- please allow me this small gesture of goodwill." neuvillette gestures at the present - a hand-crafted tea set imbued with hydro power, certain to always purify and elevate whatever water zhongli will infuse his choice of tea into. "ancient dragons and gods have their history, but rest assured that whatever judgement i pass will not be born of resentment. happy white day celebrations, deus auri." ↬ white day asks.

      ⸻       interlaced   fingers   bear   a   heavy   head   ,   hoisting   regard   that   settles   on   the   intricate   bundle.   eyes   that   resemble   ,   the   very   same   that   the   iudex   utters   ,   gaze   as   if   a   mere   thought   might   dispose   of   the   finely   assembled   material   ,   encasing   the   token   assigned   to   this   special   day.

  but   that   is   a   fantastical   imagining   ,   for   a   mortal   possesses   only   his   tools   and   hands   to   construct   the   former.   the   likes   of   which   zhongli   utilises   ,   to   unravel   the   gift   tucked   beneath.   but   not   before   the   proclamation   of   his   gratitude   —   ❝   how   very   thoughtful.   as   to   be   expected   from   the   revered   and   noble   iudex.   ❞

  professionalism   exudes   in   their   quiet   exchange   ,   until   the   focus   dawns   upon   the   task   of   tearing   paper.   which   is   short   —   lived   once   the   crumple   of   blue   and   white   falters   ,   guided   by   a   taught   hand   in   even   the   art   of   gift   unwrapping.

  the   permeation   of   hydro   ,   is   the   first   detail   that   graces   the   consultant   ,   when   the   canvas   falls.   illustrating   an   unspoken   manual   ,   bereft   of   written   instruction   ,   but   enough   to   test   the   reservoir   of   knowledge   he   is   renowned   for.   it   is   .   .   .   exquisite.   truly   ,   a   craft   any   artisan   would   boast   proudly   of.

  but   neuvillette   is   a   humble   creature.

  ❝   why   ,   you   spoil   me.   this   is   a   marvel   to   behold.   ❞   perhaps   ,   he   loses   himself   in   the   brilliance   of   the   present   ,   to   comprehend   prior   words   attesting   to   a   future.   quite   near   ,   indeed.   he   had   a   penchant   for   such   things   ,   and   old   habits   ,   after   all   ,   were   difficult   to   unlearn.   ❝   its   worth   .   .   .   is   ineffable.   this   would   transform   the   very   constitution   of   liyue’s   tea   houses.   the   flavour   and   the   brew   would   be   unlike   any   other.   ❞

  amidst   scrutinising   ,   the   recognition   of   his   visitor   beckons   his   attention   once   more.   and   careful   deposit   ,   returns   the   plucked   piece   in   the   composition   of   his   treasure   to   its   rightful   place.   ❝   please   ,   ❞   a   hand   outstretches   ,   clad   in   ebony   ,   gesturing   in   invitation.   ❝   won’t   you   join   me   for   a   cup   of   tea   ?   ❞

[lunaetis]

eden has this picture on her phone. we do not ask how or why. ( feat. @apocryphis' neuvillette )