#octoboltflash

[aevitium]

✧ ˖ @octoboltflash asked:

Taking a deep breath to steady her racing heart, Acheron knew that she had a promise to make good on-- and she was, always, a woman of her word. Besides, regardless of whether it was a previous agreement or not, this was an opportunity she would take. While the fingers of one hand nervously toyed with the cuff of her dress shirt, the other carefully adjusted the lapel of her jacket. The longer she waited, the more that this knot of uncertainty would tighten in her gut. There wasn't even any point in hesitation, this was already predetermined. Striding forward, a soft clearing of her throat is the only announcement of her arrival behind the other woman... aiming to catch her attention without startling her, hopefully. "It seems the path of fate has brought me to you once again, Elysia," She began, her voice taking on a gentle yet determined tone. "I believe you owe me something." The warm smile stretching across her face belies her intentions, pausing only to offer her outstretched palm to her companion. "Do me the honor of sharing this dance with me?"

Ego stands, draped in dark satin and waiting.

And though she feigns surprise when the other approaches, her smile remains impossibly sincere. Her head tilts, considering the open invitation of a hand as though there has ever been a chance that she might do anything other than take it.

"It seems so," she chirps sweetly in response. "And here I was, hoping you might have forgotten."

A lie, though she has no doubt that Mei sees past it. Even if this Mei is not hers, no time or stretch of the Sea could truly change her. Elysia hums, as though finally coming to a decision to the thought she had been pretending. A stalling tactic, perhaps, but she has always found the things wanted most are the sweetest when waited for.

Lithe fingers curl into the open palm of the other. As when they had touched before, familiarity floods her senses. Origin, warm and inviting and hers, though it has taken a new name and face. 

And though it is not the same one she remembers meeting, all those lifetimes ago in the Golden Courtyard, she would wish for it to reside with nobody else.

"The honor is mine~♪"

[trailblczed]

It wasn't uncommon for Caelus to miss his friends- he's often told that he a sort of separation anxiety by a few of the medical staff he's seen on the occasion (Natasha and Joanne from Herta's Space Station being the only two recurring Doctors he's willing to see due to obvious reasons). So it should surprise no one that after about a month has past since the end of Penacony's Charmony Festival, that as Caelus scrolls through his phone's chat records and sees a name of someone he hasn't seen since then, the nerves push him hastily forward into typing out a few dozen messages to send.

Caelus just hopes that his texting won't inevitably be in vain- though deep down he knows the chance of actually getting a response is highly unlikely, a small part whispers to himself that he just has to be patient and wait (not matter how hard a task that is for his wild self).

@octoboltflash

[threadsforewoven]

About: Nihility

⋅ ⋆ — Send me “About [NAME]” for my character’s thoughts! [ accepting ]

ABOUT NIHILITY Friendship Lv. 4

A path that views existence as something inherently meaningless… To follow THEIR path would be to discard one’s self, hope, purpose, and any links to the idea of value. THEY believe in nothingness and thus all else, therefore, is worthless. Hmm… There is a quiet allure to it, I suppose. If there is only nothingness, then there is the absence of fear and pain. Of the weight of a wretched past. … Still, I find such a notion to be quite unsettling. There may be times when purpose feels elusive, even hollow... but to choose nothingness entirely? For someone such as I, who sees memories and the past, be it one full of pain, joy, rage, or sorrow, as something precious... Indeed, to tread the river of Nihilty would require a resolve far different from mine.

[dukemeropide]

... I seem to be quite lost. Do you mind telling me the way to the exit? //hello!!! i haven't had a chance to say hi yet (:

There's a first for everything, and in the five or so years that the Duke has managed the Fortress of Meropide, this would be the first he's ever been asked so earnestly for directions for the way out. He stops mid-stride to turn and regard this peculiar stranger. A woman of such elegance and mystery, with an impressive longsword that - even now, in the middle of the relative peace and quiet of the administrative floor - she clasps her clawed fingers around like a tether, would have thrown flags across all of her records the moment she stepped foot off the elevator. But he can't seem to recall her arrival. And she hadn't been among the inmates he'd grown up with either.

It's hard to imagine someone could have simply stumbled their way inside a facility at the bottom of the sea, past a series of guards, to wind up here, even if that someone had a Vision. The Duke crosses his arms, his icy edges thawed only a little by the woman's apparent sincerity.

"Depends on where you want to go," he answers after a moment's scrutiny. Having finished their once-over, steel blue eyes lift back up in search of any sign of duplicity. What he finds instead is moon-pale emptiness.

"Do you know where you are?"

[taixuandream]

"Acheron. I don't know that name. It's possible we've met before." Grip firm on the taffrail, face scrunching up as bullets of water pelt her. Moving to cover herself more, the driver is clearly not bothered with delicacies such as comfort. The engine roars, bumping against the wake of natural waves without concern for what may result.

Pleas to ease off are lost in the echo. It's impossible to know if the other heard, though considering the cocktail of unpleasantries that made the seas scent still being forced into her nostrils, it's unlikely. A sigh, her free hand coming to create a barrier against the elements, she would only see the captain's lower half. Looking up any higher resulted in the sting of the sea.

"I'm Fu Hua. Hey, do you think you can let off the gas? It feels like you're trying to flip us!" A particularly harsh bump nearly launches the Phoenix from the seat, held on only by the strength of her grip. "Or send us off," she adds, albeit much quieter. "Why are you here? What brought you to this island?" This woman doesn't seem like the type for small talk, so she's hardly expecting a response.

Acheron's voice barely cuts through the roar of the waverider, eyes narrowed to nothing more than slits as she shields herself from the mist of water caused by the vessel slicing through the waves. Amid the relentless thrum of the engine and swaying of the boat, she decided that it actually would be a good idea to become acquainted with the other woman-- After all, an afternoon filled with adventure was best when shared with another. "You can call me Acheron," She manages to shout over the cacophony of noise, violet eyes focused on the task of maneuvering through the rather narrow strait they're located in. Not far from them is the vast, open expanse of the ocean that beckons with its choppy waters and the unmistakable scent of saltwater. Though Acheron can never remember experiencing the atmosphere of the ocean, the smell does seem to tug at a string in the back of her mind that felt... strangely familiar. A particularly harsh bump was the result of steering straight through a larger wave, and she grunted as her entire body was jostled from the force. It's not like she's trying to make this hard on the both of them, but... The water was being a bit more violent than she originally expected, and the result was showing in a rough ride. "And yourself? I ... feel as if we've met before. Forgive me for not committing your name to memory."

The wind whipping through her hair and the sun glinting off of her sunglasses only added to the expression of unrestrained exhilaration settling onto her features. A rare moment of enjoyment, one that would inevitably fade, but... At least it would be shared with another who would be capable of recalling it. Not lost to time and inevitability.

@taixuandream

[aevitium]

✧ ˖ @octoboltflash asked:

[JADE MYSTERY] Were she to be anyone close to normal, this streak of losses would be nothing short of depressing. Acheron certainly has no ability for discerning anything of value in this game, and a crowd has gathered to bestow pity upon her with every consecutive incorrect guess-- the vendor, of course, is reveling in the funds he's raking in from such a gamble. Some among the gaggle of onlookers mumble to each other: "Should... we stop her?" Surely, at some point, she has to choose the right one. Yet there's a sort of futility to this that she can't refute, yet the desire still remains. If only she could use her sword to break open these indistinguishable rocks, or if she had someone who had even an inkling more luck than she did... "Again." This time, for sure. (( please save her, she's going to die before she gets the right one ))

Quite the audience has begun to linger about the little stall, which Elysia might otherwise dismiss as typical were it not for the murmurs. She collects them with each carefully picked step closer and closer-- shouldn't she give up by now? how many times has she tried? is it even possible to get it wrong that many times? surely she's guessing wrong on purpose, how much money does she even have?

"Ah, I've been looking for you!"

She had not, actually, been in search of the other. It's quite the pleasant surprise to see her, Acheron, but not until Elysia set sights on her familiar figure did she have any intentions of speaking up. Of course, quite on the contrary, she breaks the line of the crowd and makes to grab for the other's arm. A second nature, easy motion that any onlooker might assume is commonplace between them.

Well, it is for Elysia, at least.

Crystal eyes flit from the furrow of the woman's brow to the assortment of rocks before her and then back again a time or two. With faux-impatience, she points to the one in the middle.

"You were just about to select that one, right?" Then to the man behind the stones, an assertive nod. "Mhm! She guesses that one~"

And, without waiting for an answer from the vendor or an objection from Acheron, Elysia is making to drag her from the stall and through the crowd. "See? Easy! Really, you should just call for me sooner if you need rescuing next time."

Disregard that, behind them, the stone has cracked open to reveal nothing yet again.

[threadsforewoven]

[PHOTO OP] Based off of the conversations Acheron had happened to overhear, Fontaine was quite known for its affinity for the arts. Which honestly made this make a lot more sense-- a large amount of painters, photographers, and what seemed to be like small booths for the sake of silly imagery... Truth be told, the idea was rather endearing. With the inevitable fading of her memories, to have a physical memento of the times she's spent here...... It would be a treasure kept close to her heart. "Ah, surely this is right up your alley," Acheron mused, the smallest hint of a smile lighting up her features as she studied Black Swan's expression out of the corner of her eye. "A Memokeeper indulges in fondly kept memories. Care to make a few more, and preserve them in a form that we can both share?" She comes to a halt in her stride, hesitating briefly before making the move to extend a gloved hand to her companion. "It's my turn to provide an invitation, I believe. Shall we?"

(( HI :) ))

❪ ⋅ ⋆ — OVERTURE 2024 ❫

Black Swan paused, her gaze casting briefly over to the line of booths before them, watching as lights flickered softly in the fading dayling, patrons and vendors eagerly chatting amongst each other, their spirits still from the festivities. She thought back to Acheron's words—voice carrying a hint of fondness and something else as she held out her invitation.

For one who may easily forget, the Memokeeper could not blame the Self-Annihilator for wanting a memento.

Still, she huffed out a sigh. If Acheron only wanted to keep a memory, Black Swan could easily weave a Light Cone; a perfect replica of the scene that shall forever live. It would be effortless—a moment perfectly frozen in time, preserving not only their memories, but even their feelings and thoughts, their pain and happiness of today, their strength and weaknesses. A photo was… Hm.

With a soft smile curling from her lips, she gently placed her gloved hand in Acheron’s.

There was something undeniably endearing, she supposed, about the simplicity of a single piece of photograph.

“Very well,” she replied, her voice smooth and sure, though there was a flicker of something warmer beneath it as she allowed herself to be guided toward the photobooth.

“Let us make a memory, then.”

[secondsovereign]

@octoboltflash ASKED: [SHARE A COFFEE] She can't taste the rich flavor of the café au lait that she's ordered. It's futile, she knows-- but it brings a sense of normalcy that she's long since accepted is no longer a part of her life. If she can pretend, just for a bit, that they're both the same people they were a long time ago... perhaps it's worth the effort. The blistering heat doesn't do anything. It doesn't scald her tongue, and it doesn't make her wince in pain. Acheron- no... Mei places the steaming cup down on the table in front of her after taking a sip, one leg crossed over the other as she mulls over her words. Her gaze doesn't raise to meet Welt's, instead remaining trained on the ceramic of her mug. "It's been a while, hasn't it?" While her tone remains calm and even, there's a grief that shows in the downward curve of her brows. In the way she won't look him in the eye, in the way her hands ball into fists against the skin of her thighs. "I hope you've been well. How are the others on the Express? Tell me... Tell me of your travels, Mr. Yang."

->Teyvat, or more specifically FONTAINE has soothed an ache in his heart he tried so hard to deny. There's a familiarity in its streets, the endless flowing canals that he doesn't dare to name. Part of him wonders if IX has interfered in his travels as a reward for a service that lacks complaint, deposited him as close to home as THEY possibly can by leaving him in a place so reminiscent of St. Freya. The aeon of Nihility has always had a side to it that THEY rarely show, and yet it seems to have once more guided his not student to a place of familiarity.

Welt had resolved that day in Penacony to treat her the same as he would the alumni of St. Freya. He's thankful that she's accepted his invitation to weekly coffee meetings, if not just for the sense of normalcy it's brought back to them. He cannot help but see the shadows of the past that linger in her features, gaze trailing with the hint of concern that's almost grandfatherly in nature. Once, a long, long time ago, someone had told him he was too attached to the trio, a fact he'd denied vehemently until Mei had stood before him with unfamiliar eyes.

"Too long for an old man like me, Mei." And he can never be more thankful to Caelus for bringing the news of her claiming of her name to him as they departed, a glimmer of hope that even across the branches of the imaginary tree, his pupil will forever rise above the tribulations of life that seemed to snake across her path.

The cup of tea is gingerly placed back onto the table, a beverage of choice now that Himeko has ruined his perception of coffee with the sludge she brews daily. The cup is a distraction from the pit of guilt he feels in his stomach, the unreasonable anger he feels at a failure he had no part in resolving. Guilt is also a flame, a burning desire that grows and grows to ensure the SELF-ANNHILATOR no longer has to remain alone on the shores of the river of souls that runs beneath IX's cool gaze.

"Ah... I believe they're travelling to a land sheathed in remembrance. I on the other hand found myself stopping to trailblaze across these vibrant lands." A white lie, he'd appeared in Teyvat following a rumour helpfully passed to him by a memokeeper. He'd left far too much unsaid on Penacony to be content with the thought of her wandering from one system to the next alone. "Did you know... that to the south there's a vibrant land full of dragons? They're exceptional creatures, and quite friendly to boot!" He's babbling, but he can't help but hope that it lifts the grief in her brow just a hint, lest it continue to twist at his heart and all but beckon him to wrap an arm around her like he often had for another of his students.

"Perhaps... Perhaps it would be worth the journey to see them, Mei." An offering, an outstretched hand in the form of words, for her to travel and settle the grief that tugged at her heart.

[mrch7th]

March 7th doesn't think that Lamb and Wolf really want to hurt them. From their conversation in the forest, she believes they are good people— umm, spirits?— she really does! But they still will; they have to. So at the very least, she will do her best to ensure that any damage they must inflict doesn't hurt all that much. “Mr. Albedo, please be careful!” she calls as he and Lamb separate, frost swirling around him.

MARCH 7TH 10/10HP gains 3 energy! MARCH 7TH 10/10HP uses Elemental Skill on ALBEDO 10/12HP. March’s shield 3/3SP is applied.

With that settled, March turns back to Miss Acheron, intent on trying to free her again, but—

MARCH 7TH 10/10HP, 1/3SP attacks BIND 3/5HP and misses (1d4, 2). BEAST, UNSATED 19.5/42HP counterattacks with WOLF’S FRENZY (1d20: 14, -1SP). MARCH 7TH 10/10HP, 0/3SP.

“Oh, come on! This is just cheating!” Not that she thinks complaining will do much of anything— it's just nice to be able to voice the frustration as Wolf lunges back in her direction before she can so much as lay a hand on her bow. As much as Mr. Wriothesley and Sampo had done to try and distract him, the spirit simply would not be dissuaded from the task. The blanket of frost she had settled upon herself break as she raises an arm to block teeth, six phased ice forming and immediately shattering as they connect.

Well, this was getting nowhere fast. If Dan Heng or Caelus were here, they'd have probably smashed through all this, easy! You can't do much smashing with a bow, though.

(Hmm...maybe she should pick up a sword or something?)

But there's no time to think about that. A snake's cruel laughter is their only warning before the world is suddenly ripped from their feet, and all that is left is—

—nothing.

while wriothesley holds off wolf, march's attempts to liberate acheron yield as much fruit as albedo's. a light that is not his own, too blinding and too white, flashes among them like a bomb. albedo would know as much. and it is because of his near daily subjection to explosions that sampo's does not faze him, only opens the stage for the main act that is albedo's own burst of blossoms.

the construct SOLAR ISOTOMA deals 3 damage to all enemies. 1 round remains.

the crystalline flowers fade, making way for three arrows to rain upon him in rapid succession. the pirouette of his blade glints; two of the arrows are deflected, clattering to the marble of the dais, but one volleys back to its archer. foul play is the only reason it hits. the stiffness in her joints is evident despite her excellence with the bow. those joints tug at the strings of temptation's behest, an unhappy marionette by any other name, but to albedo she is still:

"lamb—"  an arm flies out in her direction, reaching, his feet meaning to dash forward.

ALBEDO 10/12HP energy roll: 3 ALBEDO 10/12HP uses ELEMENTAL BURST - RITE OF PROGENITURE: TECTONIC TIDE and hits all enemies for 2+2 = -4HP. YOUTH, ETERNAL 20/30HP. BEAST, UNSATED 17.5/42HP. FATAL BLOSSOM activates, randomly hitting YOUTH, ETERNAL and BEAST, UNSATED for -1HP each (rolls: 2d2; 2, 1). YOUTH, ETERNAL 19/20HP. BEAST, UNSATED 16.5/42HP. all enemies will only target albedo for the rest of this round. energy remaining: 1

he runs to lamb but cannot stop the cataclysm of his own creation. light bursts, scatters—albedo's own depiction of their garden that once was, but deathly to the touch. how cruel that he must destroy life when all he has sought is to create it. their garden...

a farfetched idea, the very last of his cards, dawns upon albedo as one final measure.

"please,"  he murmurs before lamb, imploring, conflicted. as fingers raise to her weapon, albedo catches them in his own instead. the fistful of medicinal flowers he had harvested in that forest—his free hand fetches them from a pocket and urges them into her grasp.

ALBEDO 10/12HP forfeits 3/3 HERBS to YOUTH, ETERNAL and BEAST, UNSATED to attempt to break their control (roll: 1d20, 1). attempt fails and both enemies heal for +3HP each. YOUTH, ETERNAL 21/30HP. BEAST, UNSATED 19.5/42HP. energy remaining: 0

lamb's hand trembles in yours when she accepts your offering, lingering like she does not wish to let go. she knows what comes after. in the cracks of her mask, you can see her eyes. they are brimmed with tears, round with her own regret. "we are sorry... this... this is not how it was supposed to be." but then that's how it always is with fate, isn't it.

maybe so. as lamb's hand falls from his, gentle resignation sets into his features. resignation in his attempt. teal eyes fall half-lidded, solemn, and understanding still.

"it's not your fault."  don't cry. before the draw of her bow forces albedo back again, all he can do is offer a last look that reassures—

(he wouldn't have wanted to let go, either.)

[dream-of-butterflies]

Ghostbusters: Star Rail

fyxestroll garden starter for @octoboltflash

A visit to a garden is something that normally calms the soul. It is something that offers solace to one who experiences an unending sea of stress. A visit to a garden offers beauty, and calm, two things that are important to a lone butterfly.

This garden was almost a complete exception.

The Fyxestroll Garden was unfamiliar. It stood in a place unrecognizable, and it held a rather menacing aura. It was something that did not evoke calm, something that did not evoke peace, however it was something hauntingly beautiful.

Hah, hauntingly might have been the most apt descriptor for such a place, for there had been rumors of ghosts roaming the pathways of this garden. That was, after all, the purpose behind Seele being here to begin with.

Why the hell did I agree to this? I'm not even from here! Ghost hunting should be left to people from the Luofu, not some girl from a completely different planet!

Despite her thoughts, Seele slowly continued through the garden, clutching her scythe close to her chest as she had done so.

She wasn't exactly sure what she might find here, but she was sure something had been there. After all, why would she even be here to begin with if there wasn't?

But with so little happening, seeds of doubt will begin to sprout, regardless of the resilience of the pot containing them.

Agh, fuck this! There's no way there's anything actually here! I'm just going to turn around and-

But, as these seeds of doubt begin to germinate, a figure is seen in the distance. The only real figure that Seele had seen since this stroll of hers began. Without so much as a fully formed thought, she begins to approach the figure, and as she gets closer, she begins to realize that whoever it is, is rather tall...Seele holds out her scythe, ready to swing at a moment's notice.

Please...please don't actually be a ghost, don't actually be a ghost...

Her voice comes out shakier than she intended it to. "H-Hello? Who are you...?"

[originsrebirth]

simulated strangeness .

closed starter for @octoboltflash .

how odd of a place this was -- having accepted the invite to step into the simulated universe . . . the prospect of fighting herself had been one she couldn't deny , that alone was fine -- but what made it truly odd . . . was the person who just so happened to be there , ready to enter with her .

it wouldn't be the first time the two crossed paths , but that didn't mean it was any less strange , seeing a near identical version of herself , yet no mirror was present to differentiate the two .

she wouldn't question the full reasons her and acheron were identical , bubble universes were strange , they didn't really need to have an explanation , so mei didn't need one either .

what she did need , was . . . " do you have any idea where we're heading . . . ? this place is a tad confusing . " an idea of where to go

[aevitium]

✧ ˖  @octoboltflash asked:

A small envelope is left in an inconspicuous location, yet just visible enough for Elysia to quickly pick it out of her surroundings. It's rather plain, the parcel a simple pastel pink shade that nearly matches the colors she normally tends to favor. It's signed by Acheron-- yet the name is crossed out, and instead replaced with Mei. Inside, a piece of parchment that's rather old-fashioned. "Elysia, May this gift accompany you on your travels. In Izumo, it was often given to loved ones with the intent of bringing good luck. Wherever you are, I hope it serves as a reminder that you are never alone-- when we meet again under clear skies, I'll extend my hand to you as I always have. Fate's path brought me to you, and I'm thankful for having the chance to exist in the same time and space. Happy birthday, Ely. - Raiden B Mei" Tucked further into the envelope is a small trinket that isn't particularly flashy, a charm with means to be easily attached to anything of choice. An omamori, fashioned out of an intricate white brocade, decorated in a shade that matches Elysia's hair-- yet the pattern on it is oddly familiar, strikingly similar to the design on Acheron's sleeve. Almost as if she's leaving a part of herself to guard the other in her absence.

Origin knows origin, be it in flesh or in spirit, across time and across space. And so Elysia knows it here, or perhaps she just spies a pretty pink package and decides there can be no coincidence that such a thing would find her on today of all days and be for anyone else.

Pleasant surprise flickers across her features as the letter unfolds, eyes flitting to the name at the bottom before they bother with anything else.

The letter is read once, twice, then folded neatly into fourths and tucked gingerly into her pocket. Something to carry with her, to save for another moment alone.

And after it, the charm. Ego traces her thumb carefully over embroidered patterns, admires and sets each line to memory. A piece of another-- how long had she carried with her a feather, a golden pocket watch, a figurehead of a goddess she does not know, how long has she been without them?

The charm is looped around her finger and clasped in the warmth of her palm. She will find a place for it so that it is never far, and she will thank its maker when fate brings them to one another yet again. For she is confident that, as it has, so it will continue to.

[huuuugestmoney]

This is a fantastic start, no doubt about it. Two seconds in, and Sampo's already gripping the 'oh shit' handle (and he's left marveling at the fact this dream car actually has one to begin with besides).

Every time the car jerks, he sees portions of his life flash before his eyes.

He's not sure a seatbelt will save him.

"Just straight for now but Miss Acheron, pleaaa-aase sloowwww downnn! You tryna give a guy a coronary?"

A car heading toward them swerves past. Another on a cross lane pitches the brakes and honks with such fervour, indignation at the forefront of the many emotions communicated by the discordant song they've pieced together whilst Acheron and Sampo sped by.

He manages to straighten, but white-knuckled grip does not relent. He knows better than to get complacent. He stays tense - at the ready. Bright jade eyes flit about, trying to take in the road before them, but everything's going so fast and good heavens was this ever such a bad, bad idea...!

His next question is posed as an intellitron decides its leisurely jaunt over the crosswalk up ahead might, in the interest of survival, be better suited to a sprint.

"Ma'am," Sampo starts, wary, "did you actually pass the written exam???"

... And is it just his imagination or does he hear sirens...?

A curt nod is her initial response, hand fumbling with the gear shift. Only instead of putting it into reverse, she doesn't adjust it at all-- a foot on the gas pedal sends them lurching forward, the steering wheel turned at a sharp angle for them to narrowly avoid crashing straight into one of the cars in front of them. Then, however, she does successfully put the car into reverse; she's completely unaware of the pepeshi behind them, and the rev of the engine is the only warning before the car lurches once again. It's 0 to 100 with her, and the wheels squeal in protest as they struggle to keep up with the pace that Acheron is attempting to set for this poor, poor vehicle. Thankfully, though, the sharp noise is enough to alert the pepeshi behind them-- who responds by shrieking and diving out of the way as Acheron's car rushes past them, successfully squishing the life out of that ball. Sorry, buddy. One more gear adjustment and they're practically flying down the street, the speedometer clock in at a solid 55. In a zone that's wanting maybe 25. Whatever, life in the fast lane. "Where are we heading?"

Isn't... isn't she supposed to be the one with the answer to that question?

@huuuugestmoney

[almightyelectro]

@octoboltflash asked:

[NOODLES] Hand resting on the end of the pool noodle as if it were her actual sword, Acheron makes a swift movement mimicking that of an unsheathing. Her 'blade' is brandished in a challenge, eyes narrowing as her focus attenuates to the other woman before her. "A storm's on the horizon. Will you weather the gales, or be consumed by oblivion?"

x x x

Such strange toys. While it makes sense that they wouldn't want anyone using a real sword during what was meant to be a 'fun time at the beach' (something she learned first hand by being challenged by another stranger, summoning her sword only for other beachgoers to run in fear), such flimsy things could hardly be used the same as a sword.

Still, she raises her blade, the 'tip' pointed towards her opponent. A...familiar looking woman, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it. No, it was more like she didn't want to admit it.

"A storm...worry not, I have no intention of stepping down because of a little bad weather." There is the slightest hint of a spark in her eyes at the mention of oblivion. Such a concept...was an enemy of hers. Her nails dig into the foam, though she doesn't dare move. Such was the way of an honorable battle. "Never will I give in to oblivion-- not so long as the storm guides my blade."

...Even if it was a fake one.

[feliscus]

⸻　 　[ who, what, where ] ,　 scene three! starring :　acheron ( @octoboltflash ) & lyney ( @feliscus ) .

a baffled blink once or twice, smile automatically rising to his lips in lieu of an answer as his lips part without sound. certainly, his past scenes had been interesting, but never this...bizarre. “...is that so?” is what he eventually manages, taking a tentative step forward. “i was quite serious, actually, and getting rid of it is a bit rash—the streets aren't safe for strays.” lyney can do compromise, though, so he continues, “why don't i...put it in my room for now. and then we can talk?”

and without waiting for an answer he shuffles off to the side, leans down to gently pass the animal over to a crew member offstage before turning back. “past troubles with dogs?” he offers with a weak smile, because what other sensible conclusion is he meant to come to from...all of that? lyney's not sure he wants to think too much about what the animal hurting her and her hurting it might have entailed, exactly. “it's only a puppy—i doubt it's able to seriously hurt a fly, never mind you.”

[balemouns]

maybe there was more to it, whatever compelled her to speak out to this woman -- as she turns, speaks, that uncanny feeling grows into a... similarly strange energy, subdued like a terror trapped inside a suffocating cage. she seemed just as out of place, but... arms fold into each other, and a pleasant, polite smile momentarily conceals her own gaze. "I'm lost, unfortunately." one arm rises from where they fold across ribs to gesture off to the side with her hand, as if to say do I look like I belong here, either? ... "rumors of artifacts being searched for by the locals has left me wondering if their discoveries may help me figure out how to get... unlost."

then, the hand raised up comes around, dips down to offer out to the other woman in the form of a formal greeting. "arlecchino. I'm not from here, if that isn't clear enough already: something about you and your presence had me suspecting you may be a little out of place here, too. what do you know about this place, if you don't mind my asking?" for how invisible she felt to the rest of the population here, it was certainly... different, finding someone who had such a similar energy as her own.

Upon her arrival to the frozen tundra encompassing the surface of Jarilo VI, the first thing she feels is a wave of frigid air that hits like a physical force. The bone-chilling cold that seemed to seep into her very core forced a shiver down her arms, and her breath misted in front of her as she took in the mostly barren landscape stretching out for as far as her eyes could see.

Despite the harshness of the environment, there is a strange beauty to be found in the snow-covered mountains looming over the icy fields-- however, the thick haze that accompanied the relentless snow drifts obscured her vision, and it took her much longer than expected to reach the walls of Belobog. In truth, it was a complete accident that she made it to the city limits; her wandering had done little to assist her in identifying any sign of life. Yet in the end, after what felt like several hours, she finally had succeeded in her endeavors.

Loitering in the safety of Belobog was nice, and it was certainly warmer than the outside areas. The throngs of residents made it easy for her to blend in for the most part, despite the appearance that her sword and garb promoted-- Acheron came to the conclusion that it wasn't uncommon to see travelers through these parts, and that fact would serve her well. As she came to a halt in front of a rather imposing statue, a low-toned voice called out from behind her; the Ranger turned her head in search of its source, piercing violet eyes coming to settle on the interesting appearance of the woman standing across from her. A strange sensation washed over her, and her fingers twitched in the urge to rest on the hilt of her sword. This woman wasn't a threat, per se, but... the intensity of her unique stare coupled with the general unease that crept into her bones gave her enough of a reason to be suspicious. Acting on that suspicion alone, however, would serve no purpose.

Those eyes were seriously disconcerting. She had seen many gazes in her time; this was quite unlike anything she had come across before.

"Artifacts?" A dark brow arched in response, a brief look of confusion flitting across her features. "I'm not, I apologize. Is... there some particular reason for your search?"

@balemouns