To the Imperfect Tomorrow

O Nameless one, you need only keep stepping forward.

Toward the brightest star to begin your journey.

___

Damn you seeing this blog?? Must mean you're familiar (or about to be) with the Jace brand.

That's right, your ol' pal has tacked in a new RP blog the Trailblazer (Caelus) of Honkai:Star Rail!/ Double it! Lighter from Zenless Zone Zero has also been added! Been having me a lil too much fun, so I was like what the hell!

That said. Gonna be keeping this dash only, all-a that good stuff. Why not link the ruleset from a once blog of mine to get the point across. The rest will come in due time.

RULES. (Mind you I'm a 33 yr old mun. Can't update my old profile.)

Below are pretty much bonds for the muses on my blog that really expanded not just their personal stories in those continuities, but also play a good part in the creative factor for my ideas overall.

Worldbuilding Blog affiliates: @immobiliter , @recordiiem

About below the cut. Just some ground work for my interp.

Just leave it to the Undefeated Champion!

with how hectic things have gotten since whatever her original form had last done, dracaene wasn't entirely sure whether she had ever set foot within the boundaries of the outer ring ( according to her small diagnosis of the man, that was what she concluded ). it was rare and few for outsiders to find their way to roscaelifer to begin with due to how reserved and purposefully isolated this place was, however with connections to phaethon, it was no wonder people from across new eridu were going to start showing up.

hmm, perhaps she need to lay down some ground rules or else roscaelifer will end up being not-so-exclusive for much longer . . . or hand that responsibility over to eldreda.

" have you been enjoying your stay in roscaelifer ? "

her voice soft and friendly.

" if there are any accommodations we can offer to make you feel more at home, please don't hesitate to ask. "

( dracaene to lighter to welcome him to the land of the sky )

...

Would it be disrespectful to crouch down while talking to a living Void Hunter? Even now, the nature of Dracena's existence alone wasn't the oddity, rather how did these multiple ages come to be? There was no denying that she's short, in the kind of way where it feels like he should be actually talking to a random kid. Yet, for all he knows that could be a death sentence just looking for the first reason. A grand city primarily of Bangboo, hard working factions and a fine current of political strife tucked in for extra flavor. Roscaelifer was going to be a dream to navigate, there wasn't a doubt in his mind.

Even now it felt as if those big ol' golden eyes were judging him. As if he's rotating in a microwave as Sunbringer vividly slots down every bit of life information and bio-data. Due to the policy of weapons having to be tucked away, at the very least it didn't leave Spark or his W-Engine facing any of her scrutiny. "It's.." He begins, settling upon the rope like tightrope as he brushes the side of his neck.

The clothes that normally do their part in making the man was absent for right now. That wild riding attire simply being a touch too uncouth for this inexperienced land. Instead, he's drawing upon a more original outfit from his wardrobe.

"Different." He decides to play on. "Civilization down below is more of a melting pot, many walks of life doing their thing.. So to see one so uniform? Just different."

Who in the hell could even tell if that's a good or bad thing? Despite some part of his gut instinct insisting for him to be more respectful, to play upon the forever nebulous line of wording, that inner rebel simply couldn't abide by that metric. "Being comfortable however is a different story. Feels kind of nice to expect not waking up to find a knife in my back. The Outer Ring just asks for a different type of toughness in humanity." One of those strings upon his overalls was briefly plucked and snapped back into place.

That doesn't mean he'd look a gift horse in the mouth once she made such an offer. Void Hunters met outside of battle always had that.. awkward avenue for him, the common line below them feeling entirely void. Lighter could only drum his fingers upon his pants leg in thought.

"Would it be out of the question to suggest a motorcycle raceway get installed in some part of town?" Why not pick the silly option for a change? Given how rare of a chance this is, he'd rather not squander it solely on business.

Lumina Square was a hub filled with ever flowing rhythm. Shops raising call for their commodities, eager travelers either indulging in the delights or working their deals in the dark, it hardly mattered to the mind situated on Shopping Spree as the name of today's game. There was a gumption carried in Lucy when it comes to self-care, a motive so robust that it swayed the Sons to follow her stride. Pride dictates that a firm form is essential for all deals, either through Dennies, battle or the menagerie of smaller situations in between.

For Lighter? It could easily be considered a mini vacation of sorts. Where many would groan for a prolonged trip, Outer Ringers knew the value of stops in New Eridu for moments of indulgence. New strides mean proper rewards, and the entire time through their banter enriched each step, adding light even to the shadowed shortcuts or a few heads from petty thugs they had to bust. (Cleanly. Today had a rule of not ruining their attire.)

He didn't complain about such an opportunity to show off. How restraint was a mastered practice alongside destruction, where simply knocking them unconscious and leaving them to their fates with singular strikes sufficed.

Maybe he should've been away from the cinnamon like flame that danced in her eyes as a result. Even before that moment, it felt as if Lucy was... up to something. It was a brand of mischief that held an intimate thread, happily letting her genius extend the plan, timely pauses as she shopped while bag duty would soon fall to his hands. It wasn't until they met around the clothing stalls did the change transpire. Amidst monotonous shopping music and a cashier who cared (moreso busied with enjoying quiet hours alongside brandishing headphones), it'd be her voice that held an airy and purposely girlish tinge.

"Could you check something for me? You know I hold a fine standard for my state of dress, and now your valued opinion is central to this, Lighter."

Could it be a play upon the imagination? They've danced upon battlefields, meetings and and now bedrooms and couches in entirely different context, yet she masterfully kept that focus in that 'unknown' state.

Ah well. Come what may.

"Through Heaven and Earth, your majesty," one of his more impish nicknames whenever they get playful. "Let's see the kind of work you've settle yourself into--"

Lighter was not prepared for that killshot the instant Lucy's changing booth was opened by his hand.

How set before his eyes, lorded by a cowl of golden hair and luxurious silks for this particular dress was cheek. Prominent, a thickness normally constrained in her traveling shorts and practically swallowing up a portion of that floral design in a singular swoop. The exhale that found itself rushed from the Champion's lungs was haggard, stunned, left to revel in the majesty that Lucy Montefio decides to shamelessly show off.

Any prior thoughts found themselves burned to cinders on the mental pages. A hunger, dark and visceral, found itself briefly breaching the surface of restrain as those eyes roamed. Burning trails settled in Lucy's name following upon her figure, to the attire that squeezed those curves gluttonously and where those freshly manicured nails dared to raise the veil. Just seeing how she had that nerve to let her hip pop outward perfectly, trained, offering a ravenous feast to her Champion... and a question.

Just how much nerve was stocked into that wild soul who left countless, broken bodies in his wake? That door never found itself snapped shut faster its life, leaving Lighter to visibly curse because damn it all he didn't mean for it to be that loud. Even as those vibrant ruby eyes held a question, an innocent facade only adding to the spice of it all, decisions played rapidly within that mind, a taut, excitable tension locked upon his facial features as that hum couldn't be denied from those lips.

Control faltered, impulse triumphed to a blinding high as he seized the moment. What could be a more 'gentlemanly' response than that loss of control? To let that fighting weathered hand briefly lash out, proudly drawing confusion to the crowd outside their world as a resounding smack promptly met her ass cheek, following up with a momentary grasp that savored how her underwear compliments her figure. A low growl inevitably follows as the man reels back the beast, even if those coal like jades glowered with a particular light.

"Like a dangerous game, Lucy. That looks goddamn stunning.."

Would she be proud in how she enacted that scarlet wrath upon his tanned face, further proof that she briefly snapped those sensible chains?

Proud of how the Air Fryer team is coming along. I still need to learn wind based tech better BUT, the team keeps very busy with the realm of lockdown.

ALSO.

ALSOOOOOOOOO.

Velina looks like she said she wanted to be all about business because.

"Speak your piece, Proxy. After all the trouble you've made to travel up here with you? Take advantage of what that type of teamwork means."

Somehow they've both been admirable and a bundle of nerves in equal measure. Truthfully? Lighter couldn't blame them either, the past wasn't gone and dusted, legacies remain and was repeatedly calling for their determination to bear the weight of the mantle set before them. The Champion knows of Price to pay and it's why there was no measure of 'joke' set into telling him this. Wise and Belle, they're doing good despite the destruction that makes them.

So he listens, drawing back the can of fresh juice from his lips and tilting back in one of those chairs of Aurelia Academy. The actual meat of the request found itself surprising him very little. Whatever they've faced within that test chamber has stirred a fire he's witnessed a small number of times before. The chaos of a scorched horizon, that thirst that lies in wrenches free the secrets of Helios, when they're truly in the zone of working either on the field or before the HDD.

"Let's not get usefulness confused here Wise." He makes sure to drive that point home with firmness.

"You've long pulled your weight in your primary talent of guiding others. Not that I'll sell your fire in sharpening your physique short. Your specialties have a priority of also being honed. Ensuring you have the energy for the growing workload is pivotal, as such, we're keeping the highlight based on stamina for you. Finding the secrets from your school will demand your best." Lighter declares as he draws up from his seat, keeping that near empty can left and forgotten.

Okay I can't get enough of how cool this double parry mechanic look.

"Are we really out here expecting anything less? Giving High Hell is my middle name."

Once upon a time that answer would've been so much different. Consigned to the past, far, far away from the present of fighting off the heat with some half-baked fan and their new definition of normal. His posture was lax while he's settled in a dark pair of shorts and a spare green colored tank top, legs mildly spread upon the couch and with him flicking through his phone. Home would be a solid way to define this.

Her voice always held a softer note, relieved and a touched fatigued after a longer mission. Part of him was imagining that her mind was still churning away at her energy. Any search for new W-engine parts upon the phone is paused, the lit screen clicked off at her call.

"If??"

He keeps the word faintly stretched, feeding the silence and offering up a few more seconds for her mind to mull over the words. It hadn't taken long to convince him to set his cell phone aside upon a nearby coffee table. No expectations flowed within his mind as he offered his attention, canting his head towards her as those glasses lazily hung off the bridge of his nose. It was as if the implement gained its own damn personality hanging with honorbound wielder for so long.

Lighter couldn't say he expected what had followed. It led to him peering higher, beyond the creamy skin of her belly and the idle flutter of her shirt, as victimized as his own was by that face blowing semi-cool air towards them. Somehow, it was a more negative shade, one not intentionally made that settles as the thought was just.. honest. It leaves the Champion mulling over their present, how much the sharpness of such actions would call to him.

...Hah. Look at that, an answer already forming and he's hardly driven deeper into mentally chewing on those words.

"Lucy.." It was a call to attention, the sort that makes those scarred shoulders prompt from the sanctity of cushions, leaving one of his arms to softly rest upon her calves as he kept facing her. "If it was outside of our usual work hell, then without a doubt. There's no shortage of times where you do need that solitude to work that genius, I've picked up on that, covered you when I could with the gang before bigger missions."

A gentle breath is sucked in as he mulls on this mental picture harder. A Lucy that regresses, the once forthright soul that made barricades upon the heart, who used distance as her 'weapon' and intentionally upon him. He doesn't like the clench it gives his chest, as if thorny barb attempts to wrap within rib cage.

"But, I've never seen it as your first option involving anything else. At first I'd consider if there's a point.. An unknown sort of line I stepped over. Recklessness is a bitter companion I have, and no short amount of years have been spent remedying that."

Just thinking about it alters that softer glance with a more determined firmness. Reaching over, some of his fingertips met in lockstep with her's along the scope of her belly, idly brushing over them as his imagination continued its vivid pursuit. Picturing her with teary eyes, a pained look or a ferocity that aims to poison instead of burn.

"It'd hurt. Days like we have now, there's never a moment where I feel that it's right if we're not like this. A tangle of limbs or just having a shot of thought about anything under the sun. ..Not to mention, overthinkin' types like you don't need that kind of time either."

"I'd come after you if I ever felt like you were trying to endure the impossible alone." An Oath.

HC: Upkeep.

Hands or Wit that can't build, much less offer foundation would never last long in his line of life. Upkeep is essential for the own prolonging of his life, his gang, countless companions and associates as well. In the Outer Ring alongside Hollow exploration, ultimately you are your best solution. In kind, one of Lighter's many solutions is to become an apt mechanic, all thanks to the many talented hands in the Sons of Calydon.

Motor repair, adhoc creation, there's no shortage of machinery he wouldn't be able to improve if he could get his hands on it. The most essential would be his skills with W-Engine maintenance. It holds a unique challenge as it must always find itself tune to some degree to not only his own personal 'Song' of soul, but to find a stabilizing frequency in the environments he dives into. Any Agent worth their must know how to keep it fine tuned, to calibrate on the fly, otherwise such carelessness piles up into the essence known as misfortune. Misfortune in that right costs lives.

There's many days where he's always improving Burning Laurel into a higher state. A way to better tune up Burnice's chemical solutions. Utilizing Lucy's graces to ensure there's always top of the line parts on hand, falling back on the old knowledge of Caesar's and Piper's essentials to always keep the core perfectly set to generate high decibel frequencies to empower him. They're a bunch that ensures readiness for all of their ilk.

What she exercises is power in the purest form. Welcomed, angled and honed to create the very definition known as Lighter's downfall. Those normally wound shoulders found themselves vanquished of weariness, the view upon, spilling that golden like halo of hair, adorned with ruby eyes held his entire world of attention. Distance finds itself dwindled and there's a certain way she'd find Lighter's voice melting directly in mouth, simmered in sacrifice, a low hum of Luciana held as tribute as he leans into her entirety. It fell directly into what she sensed, yearning has its part to play, and heaviness is a natural instrument of the Champion.

So once she leaned away, it'd leave a soft gasp behind, awareness flowing momentarily from that internal pool of bliss and back into the present. Resistance was an impossibility, not even thought once she charts her course, forming her own roadmap of the man now blissfully bound to her name. He'd lead back against the couch, giving her the perfect perch to remain settled above, for the fixture of her shapely thighs to keep him in place as she continues her creation. Initially there's a ticklish rise, a sensation that gradually melts down to that volatile simmer that draws those urges within to act.

It felt as if a whirlwind of this energy, hidden, chained, was now finding every reason to tear free and offer more. For an instant his head tilts, allowing that dark jade hair to cast to that same direction and grace her with more purchase. Even now, his fingertips worked miniature grooves onto her hips, thumbs drawn directly at the hem of shorts, grazing along the skin of her belly before he braces. Even with those eyes closed, the image of pure resolve casts light in the force of Lucy's brazen face.

How could he not relax when against such a dangerous opponent?

Her goading? Her teasing? What would be the prize?

Pleasure rippled underneath muscle and tight knit sinew, his mouth cast agape, allowing that very heaven to surge strength to that infernal stir in his veins. "Lucy.." Her name is cast, voice fixed into a moment that's heavy with the cindered embers of his passion. The vocal base reflects the way she pulled that moan from the depths of his very soul. Tension of a different means felt paramount, a fire that's carved into his very essence through her impish actions. Those hands fixed upon her hips eased up, finding a new route of casting that rugged touch downward, sweeping upon the fullness of her thighs as that counter of his deep tone was settled against the shell of her ear.

"Tired isn't quite it.. You feel good." No hesitation found itself chaining down that sentiment. It was a lesson that continues, growing with her longing, further refined through the eagerness of her lithe but readied hands. There was a possessiveness to her grasp, a bandit making with her fortune that planted a light within the pit of his toned belly.

Luciana was forging an awakening.

"How could I not fall apart when your giving so little mercy?"