#aaetherius

Eyes closed the moment she pricked herself because she’d allowed herself to be distracted by the ringing bell of her shop. Soft hiss passed her lips as she brought her finger up to inspect where the thorn had caught down to the rose she’d dropped to the ground. Being careful not to touch anymore thorns, she carefully lifted the flower from the floor and placed it on the counter in front of her.

“I’ll be right there!”

She worked quick to bandage herself using one of her Hello Kitty bandages before leaving the back room where she often worked on dethroning and caring for any other flowers before putting them on display. She hated to keep a company waiting which is where her rush came from which ultimately led to her small injury.

Continued from Here : X

          Amethyst was strong. She prided herself on her strengths, both physical and mental, and thought herself a great leader when she needed to be one. Her training had certainly helped her pull her weight in the crew, and being with them just made her stronger, feeling the best she ever had. And yet she knew she still had her weaknesses, or that one slip up could negate all of her strengths entirely. So she tried her best to prepare herself for any situation that she could face, even against foes or monsters she had never met before, just to make sure to slim the chances of failure.

          Yet failure was also a part of learning. And she could be a strong leader while facing failure as well.

          Perhaps she was maybe too impulsive as the windstorm bore down on them, Prunella working both support and protection duty while caring for an injured woman, and Amethyst having to switch between both offense and defense because of that. If Prunella got hit badly with any attacks, it was simply game over for everything they were trying to accomplish at the current moment, but Amethyst was starting to get worse for wear when taking so many hits and near misses from this Rock Winger. The thought of a full retreat crossed her mind, yet that would mean leading it straight towards the village below, and they were tasked to stop this thing’s kidnapping of the people. But if they both went on the offensive, one slip up could mean the end of the villager’s life. Too many thoughts flashed across the young woman’s mind before she finally came to the first decision that made the most sense. Whether it was a smart decision or not...She’d never know, if she slipped up.

          A fire arrow soared true and landed on a clump of the massive bird’s feathers, briefly setting part of it ablaze as Amethyst screamed at Prunella to run. That they couldn’t just wait for the crew to find the strongest part of the storm where they were at; that Prunella had to both get the villager to complete safety and point all the crew members she could find in the right direction towards the fight. She didn’t mention the fearful thought that that meant she would be fighting on her own; that she was basically just a worn out distraction until reinforcements arrived, and that if something drastic happened that she could be as good as dead. Even if she thought it, and even if Prunella thought it, neither of them spoke a word on it. They both knew she was strong enough to last, or they at least believed and prayed in the belief that she was. And while Prunella did hesitate, visibly distraught by this order, barked out with fake confidence and forced smile by her best friend, she stated a simple “Stay safe.” before she bolted down the mountain. Amethyst couldn’t help but feel relieved by her quick acceptance, but she couldn’t relax if she didn’t want her potentially last exchange with her to be so laced with sad undertones, gaining the giant bird’s full attention with a couple more fire arrows, smelling the scorched feathers and flesh on the wind. What felt like forever was probably only a few moments, playing a cat and mouse game by hiding behind trees or rocks so as to not get clawed or forced over the edge, shooting arrow after arrow to hopefully weaken or blind it. Going for close-range attacks was just far too dangerous with the winds this thing could pick up, but Amethyst also only had so much ammo, so it was just a matter of time before ---

          Her last arrow. She felt the empty air in her quiver with one hand, while the other shook as it gripped her bow and last fateful tool. Her free hand went to steady herself against the tree she crouched behind, before a terrible cut of wind made the towering plant quiver and snap in multiple places, getting pierced and scratched up by little splinters while narrowly avoiding life-threatening impalement. She was already littered with slices across her skin; what was a couple more to add onto it? Not much in her mind, but she knew her body was lagging, and she wheezed while she ran for more cover, coughing up whatever pain her body wanted to reject. And yet there’s that fateful slip when she does it, this battle of time finally reaching the end as a glacial gust caught Amethyst before she could dive behind a protruding rock formation. Her weightlessness in the moment was both breathtaking yet awakening, not wanting to go out without a bang, quick-scoping the fearsome beast with that last arrow and firing. She wonders if it was her newfound height, or maybe Tiamat or any other primal of wind had her side, that made the arrow pierce one of the rock winger’s eyes, it’s terrible screech in pain popping her eardrums. Though, if Amethyst was to be a little cocky for the last time, then she’d admit she was great with chance shots like that.

          Then, as quickly as that little moment of celebration filled her, the winds sent her over the cliff and plummeting to the ground. Her mind screamed at her to try and grab a ledge or a tree if she could attempt it; even if her arm popped out of it’s socket or got broken or impaled, that was better than going splat or getting impaled in the chest. Her instincts at least told her to look for water, or to flatten herself out, or to just find anything that would cushion or slow her fall. But her thoughts were clouded with her little victory, and with fatigue in the face of her demise. If anything, she went out being as strong as she could be, and doing her duty of helping those in need. Even if regrets rose up in her, at least there was that...

          Then darkness fell over her as she shut her eyes. 

          By the time she was finally roused to consciousness, she was greeted with a warmth unlike any other. The gentle nature of the presence could almost lull her back to sleep, save for the aching pain she felt in her body, and the nagging sensation in the back of her mind that there was something wrong with feeling so comforted in this moment. Almost immediately, that thought mixes both with reborn regret and fear, eyebrows furrowing as her eyes shot open, needing to know her surroundings before she could confirm any sour suspicions. Yet she’s neither put off nor eased to find herself in unfamiliar territory, squinting as rain sounds protruded her mind, while the presence of cloth draped over her is registered, as well as her head resting on the lap of…

｢ @aaetherius​​ ｣ — writes:

{ 🍌 and 🍇! }

still accepting → fruity headcanon prompts !!

🍌  :    is my muse inclined to help others,  or will they only do it when it benefits them,  if at all?  what makes them this way?  has it ever gotten them into trouble,  or inconvenienced them?

Vivian takes her role as the ‘manly heroine of justice’ very seriously, so yes, she will help others out, even if it doesn’t benefit her. Naturally, this is partly due to her being kind at heart and her wanting to be admired for her valiance, but either way, she is not the type to stand idly by while someone is getting attacked. Of course, more often than not, this leads to sheer recklessness on her part, causing her to get injured as a consequence.

Why, like with Lancelot, she isn’t above shielding a person from a devastating blow, which usually ends up backfiring on her; still, it’s not something she’ll regret, no matter how much pain she has to ultimately undergo. Basically, though, she won’t hesitate to protect others, yet at the same time, if it’s someone she despises on a contemptible level, she might just leave them to fend for themself.

Honestly, despite how morally righteous she is, Vivian does have a petty love for revenge; therefore, she will gladly watch karma be enacted upon those she personally believes aren’t deserving of kindness.

🍇  :    how would my muse describe their childhood?  how much has it impacted the person they are now,  or will become as an adult?  around what age did they or will they start to mature,  and why?  do they wish to go back to their days as a child,  or have they embraced adulthood?  

To put it simply, Vivian would describe her childhood as a confusing and lonely period of her life. Honestly, growing up, she always struggled to make sense of the world as a young, autistic girl, meaning it was a constant process of adapting. Due to the fact she could never communicate well with others or make that many friends, Vivian always felt like the black sheep of her family, especially since unlike her older sister, she had always caused problems by being herself.

Not only were there instances where she would pass out after being forced into clothes, her surroundings often proved overwhelming, to the point where she remembered frequently having meltdowns. Despite it all, however, her parents always coddled her, meaning Vivian constantly had her way if she threw a tantrum or begun crying.

The older she became, however, the less it stopped working. Why, somewhere along the way, her mother grew more meanspirited and her siblings made it no secret she found her embarassing to be around, which efffectively changed her; in fact, upon turning thirteen, she stopped resorting to temper tantrums altogether and just rebelled by dressing less femininely.

Though she hadn’t completely matured by then, Vivian still became a bit more diginified, but had a tough time, being percieved in a postive light by her peers, because she was eccentric and wierd; either way, her childhood ended up having such a huge impact on her, it ultimately made her personality the way it is now. Still, despite this being the case, she doesn’t wish to go back, because as a kid, she was definitely that pathetic little crybaby who heavily relied on her mommy.

✴ ;

  The sun’s brilliant rays begin to climb into the horizon, the night sky turning into the early morning.  Orange, yellow, and gold begin to take over the inky black as he watches it in a rare moment of simply enjoying the sight.  

    It’s been too long since he’s slept so he’ll blame it on that.

     Even the lab he was cooped up in suddenly felt stuffy and made him seek out one of the high points of Canaan.  An old gazebo became his makeshift workplace and he simply worked by candlelight as he scribbled his rambling notes into proper sentences.  His thoughts were always racing faster than he could record them much to his annoyance.  Talking about them was also a waste of time since most simply stare as if he spoke in an alien language.  

      Belial was off doing his own tasks which left him alone most of the time with only his musings--but it falls silent as he watches the colors dance and blend into each other.  

      It’s a rare moment of silence.  

    The fluttering of wings sound behind him but he doesn’t take his eyes off the sky.  

He’s more than aware of all the stares he was receiving and the babble of whispers that filled the air upon his arrival. Oddly enough, what he was stressed out the most about, was the fact that he will be dripping everywhere in the nicely cleaned cafe. It had started storming out of nowhere, and while he was usually in tuned with the weather, Mother Nature was relentless and liked to take you by surprise. So, unfortunately, he had gotten caught by the downpour.

Kenny does his best to wipe his booted feet on the door mat, grimacing behind his mask at the mud that he was tracking in. He felt a surge of intense anxiety, and the lenses of his gas mask fog up with his quickened breath. His attempt to clean himself off at least minimized the dirt, which he was already going to clean up once he dries up enough, before he makes his way to the register.

「     Smallest coffee, please,     」       he requests, voice quiet as he dug around in his pockets for a few bills. Truth be told, Kenkone didn’t care for the drink. But he wanted to sit out the storm for as long as they would allow him to. Of course, as a street rat, he was mentally prepared to be kicked out despite being a paying patron — maybe. A whimper escapes him when he realizes he is short; he must have used more money than he had thought to feed the stray cat in the alleyway.          「     Ah ... Never ... Never mind. I’m sorry, for the trouble.     」

A scrap collector is all Xie Lian presents himself before this stranger. Although, nothing of anything remotely divine or divine-inclined would escape a Heavenly Official’s eyes, Xie Lian doesn’t make any comments. Although curious, very much so, he chooses to still willingly smile as though oblivious, arms still outstretched, his bamboo hat slung low behind his back. “Are you perhaps interested to see any tricks performed? I can do quite a number of fascinating things.” By now his voice is trained in grabbing the attention of the public. Here, Xie Lian, although a Heavenly Official and a Martial God, he wears nothing but his usual plain, white robes, presenting as nothing more than a street performer. It’s nothing out of the usual for him to seek any currency or wares that he can, and busking just so happens to be something he’s adapted to. Although there is the pressing suspicion, Xie Lian tucks it away for now. “If you have any donations you can provide in return to see something spectacular, it’d be much appreciated.”

HEY NOISE ( @aaetherius​ / @caeruleis​ ), C’MERE FOR A SECOND.

You’ve been around for a while, across from a few blogs we’ve both had. I first want to say thank you. Thank you for being an inspiration, and for allowing me to test out my writing skills with you. No matter the thread or the muses, we always vibe and tend to write a lot. And I love that! I love all the information and effort you’ve put into your characters, both present and past -- canon and ocs. They’re so enjoyable to read, and I can’t help but adore them with each interaction I see. It’s clear to see how much you care about them, and how much you take the time to think about their actions. I’d rant about them all, but I got smooth brain. ;^; Or, as you know, I would.

I know I’ve said this in the past, but thank you for pulling me into GBF’s RP scene. Fully, and not with just Kamui. You’re such an enabler, y’know, hahah! Seriously, though, I think of you as a good friend of mine and would never turn down the chance to write or talk with you. <3