#deiscension

It has never ben a secret that Feng Xin prefers the mortal realm to the heavenly realm ; centuries dedicated to chasing even the slightest trace of someone he once knew. AND GENERAL NAN YAG'S PALACE HAS REMAINED UNCORRUPTED THROUGH THE CENTURIES. Unlike the gods who bask in the glory of ascension and have their middle officials running most duties, it is harder to get Feng Xin to relent and let someone else handle affairs. Even with His Highness back - well, perhaps that has only drawn more to how Feng Xin throws himself into his work. Maybe not. Feng Xin has always been a soul whose worth came down to PURPOSE. A body guard, a middle official, a god. And a god protects just as much as a bodyguard does. ( Or a god should. )

What Feng Xin does not expect to encounter is a wandering soul on his pursuit of a vile demon. " HEY! Hey, you there! " Feng Xin pulls back on the reins of the horse he rides, bow in one hand as he slows down to a walk besides the figure. " You shouldn't be out here. Haven't you heard about - " The concerned focus that causes his eyebrows to furrow breaks with surprise. " Shi Qingxuan ? " He can already feel the cold shiver running down his spine at the memories that surface. NO. No, there is work to be done. He swallows down the creeping anxiety that feels like a hand around his throat as he dismounts and approaches.

& this will be a private invitation━ courteous enough to curry the wind's favor and discreet enough to remain steady if things go sideways. if done correctly, this should be favorable regardless of outcome.

❝ it's nearly zhongyuan , ❞ he remarks coolly. ❝ will black tempest echoing screams be visiting ghost city this year ? ❞

"Mornin' sleepin' beauty. Ya looked so tuckered out last night, I didn't have th'heart t'wake ya up. I got breakfast goin', if yer hungry or anythin'."

Tomoko leans on the doorway to the guest room, a faint smile on her face. Shi Qingxuan had come over to her spot to just hang out, but the time passed so quickly that she'd fallen asleep on the couch while they were in the middle of a gaming session. Still, she's a generous host and she takes care of her friends.

Though Venti might not be able to relate, he could, at least, feel sympathy. Heat never had effected him the same way it did to those of more organic origins, he had found that out early when the warm airs that made him buzz with energy had those of flesh, especially humans, panting.

Still, the dramatics at which his friend complained about it had him giggling.

"Hm?" The question surprised him. "No, I don't- thankfully. I've heard far too many complaints about such a thing to lament that bit about my biology."

Even at his most discomfort, he would never wish to sweat.

wouldn't it just.

​` 𖥔 ݁₊ 𐔌 . ⋮ the    late    night    breeze    seems    to    carry    her,    wind    bellowing    light    fabric    as    if    its    sole    intention    were    to    render    her    something    otherworldly    even    in    a    drunken    haze.    soft,    absent    hums    spill    from    her    lips,    a    careless    melody    that    lingers    in    the    air,    nice    never    straying    more    than    a    few    steps    behind,    lest    it    knock    her    over.    alcohol's    warmth    must    be    the    only    thing    that    keeps    her    going,    though    his    coat    lays    upon    his    arm    rather    than    shoulders,    patiently    waiting,    an    unspoken    promise    of    warmth,    for    when    she    finally    slows    and    the    chill    seeps    in.    until    then,    he    simply    lets    her    be,    for    who    is    he    to    try    and    capture    something    as    freeing    as    air    —    to    cage    the    wind    would    be    a    futile    cruelty,    one    should    instead    still    for    a    fleeting    moment    and    enjoy    it.    something    a    man    who    could    fly    knew    better    than    most.

watching    her    stop    and    take    in    so    little    of    the    outer    world    they    can    see    whilst    city    bound,    perfection    smiles,    stepping    closer,    drawn    in    despite    himself.    ❛❛    it    might    be    best    to    have    those    adventures    sober    ❜❜    his    voice    is    light,    almost    teasing,    yet    threaded    with    quiet    concern,    lest    you    end    up    in    a    ditch,    the    hero    leaves    unspoken.    as    long    as    he's    here    —    entirely    alcohol    free    —    nothing    the    night    has    to    offer    can    reach    her.

lifting    the    white    fabric    of    his    coat,    he    moves    with    quiet    precision,    draping    it    upon    her    shoulders    as    she    spins,    grinning    as    nothing    in    this    world    can    affect    her.    perhaps    it    truly    can't.    ❛❛    i'd    be    no    good    at    protecting    people    if    i    refused    to    step    outside    after    sunset,    wouldn't    you    agree .ᐣ    ❜❜