Muse
Connect with me on the winds of time.
Feel the waves body - soul and mind.
Don't worry babe, you're doing just fine.
Hearing your whispers on our private line.
~Talitha~
03.2023.11
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if you only have to watch one (1) genshin lore video, I highly recommend this one. not because it's a beginner-friendly guide to those new to the lore (it's not), but because the vibes of this theory are immaculate and explains like... the kinds of things that fascinate me about the game
paimon is consecrated for consumption, in a eucharist way. blood is wine is memories is life is power. ambrosia for ascension. the blood to the traveler's bones
there are so many things in the game that seem like innocuous off-hand comments but when put into a bigger picture, is so ???
like. do you ever think about how paimon likes to eat slimes because they are pure elemental energy, and she functions as the traveler's conduit for the elements similar to a vision for vision-wielders (even though she is not a vision)
and what does this mean for the traveler who is hinted to be a star? how much can they consume before they "collapse under their own gravity", so to speak
I really have nothing to add, I just wanted to share how much I love the vibes of the content of this video. this is peak genshin theorizing to me
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“I see how it is, my Little Cloud. You plan on ignoring me, is that it? I think it’s time for the birdie to fly home.”
“Makenshi baby, I wonder, would a caged bird with clipped wings still sing?”
On anon, tell my muse what they need to hear || Accepting
⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ When the voices come 'round again as he fails to reply or even openly panic - when he focuses his breathing to keep a cap on his own emotions, he knows full well he's struck a cord. He's supposed to crumble and break. He's supposed to shatter as quickly as his soul in like the every stretch lattice work of cracking fault lines stretching over his skin.
He's supposed to break.
Even as her voice crawls into his mind and he can feel his stomach twist and flip upon the sound of it if only in pure disgust. Is the monster mad because it's not getting it's feast? Is it hungry so it sought out it's favorite meal in hopes the Cloud King would throw a bone in their direction.
Somehow that thought as his lips tugs out into a smirk.
Must feel miserable to have to beg. Must be feeling pretty horrendous if the beast thinks it needs to go to such lengths to find a meal. All he has to do is cave and buckle and the demon will have it's fill. Somehow he would much rather watch it starve.
So the Misty Swordsman instead stretches his arms out far above his head and released another round of white slumber into the air as he lets himself lay back down on the roof of the Comodeen Compound.
He needs to not get himself so wound up. He just needs to focus and this seems like a good of spot as any to take a short nap.
"Olen kotona."
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Ok imma log off a bit as a break btw
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Now with your hands on your hips,
and a snarl on your lips
your eyes wore the look of danger
There's a lion in your heart
That's set to quick start
To a glance from any stranger
You give as good as you get
No one's beat you yet
You take the lead
You never need
You know all the moves you've got to make
You take it all, you take it all the way
You never do things by half
You're a man with a reputation
You never shy when the problems fly
You can cope with any situation
You take the wheel and crack the whip
You never slip
You rule the roost
You always boast
Yeah you're looking after number one
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did you know? love is real and its all around you. its inside of you and you cant get rid of it sorry. like a poison but nice poison. but still poison. it will rot you and everyone else when they take it away. just the same as losing all the trees and the flowers and the rivers and the seas. yet those aren't poison, not in their world. do trees love? do their roots spread in hopes of reaching the stem of a lonely little flower sitting by a carved stone? and yet they stay rooted in the dirt. loves funny like that, i suppose. unshakeable, immovable, unstoppable poison and it tastes so sweet and bitter and salty all at once. yet i strain for its petrichor in the midst of motor fog. the blurs not caused by wind smudge the poison into dirt. its the worms now, and the trees, and the flowers, and the rivers, and the seas, and they're all listening because they wanted to love but we didn't understand it. their love wasn't poison because there wasn't anything to lose. and yet we are surrounded by the corpses of what once could have loved us, too.
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