crescentview | 🔪 i'm a fish inside a birdcage; open with some closed prompts

🔪 i'm a fish inside a birdcage; open with some closed prompts

🔪 WHO: Akechi and anyone who chooses to tolerate him (I'm sorry).
🔪 WHAT: December Shenanigans
🔪 WHEN: Nebulously December, possibly into January, time is fake.
🔪 WHERE: Wherever, whenever, we're meant to... No, actually.
🔪 WARNINGS: Strong language, emotional constipation, Childe, Twister. Any NSFW will be tagged within the thread but it may happen. Also Kaeya and Akechi are making out, so that's a thing.

🔪 b-b-b-bingo!

[Frequently, Akechi can be found just about anywhere within Crescentview perched neatly on something chair-shaped. He has one leg folded over the other like a prick, one arm folded against his ribs and the elbow of the other resting on his wrist, allowing him to set his chin in his hand. It's a pretentious way to sit, but it's stable, and comfortable despite how it looks. He's poring over his Bingo card for the umpteenth time, and should anyone come within a five-foot radius of him, he snaps his head up.] For our mutual benefit, would you mind cross-referencing cards?

[He's made figurative copies of his card-- on the backs of old casework from his briefcase, he's hand-written out a few lists of squares, content to always ignore the smut squares when interacting with anyone. His penmanship is neat and concise, and there are occasional footnotes alongside them.]

🔪 mountainside farming

[He has no idea how to be a farmer. He has no idea how to be self-sufficient without the internet and a paycheck garnered from murder, he's realizing, but he does have a vague know-how of a variety of things included in farming. Planting seeds, for instance, he has some degree of understanding of. His farm is set away from others, blissfully allowing him solitude, but by no means unreachable or even remotely difficult to find. He's found some old shitty tools and an old shitty sun hat, and his slacks are rolled up to his knees. He's given up on his shirt entirely, given it's white, and his shoes and socks are somewhere out of eyesight, leaving him barefoot and shirtless attempting to tear up the earth for planting things with a rusted old backhoe. There is only so much his shitty little twink arms can handle, someone want to teach him proper technique?]

pt. 2; paddle boats. [Childe]

[At some point he's given up on tearing up his land, and is standing at the bank of a small lake near his farm. More specifically, he's staring at a paddle boat just chilling, rope-tied to a questionable dock. It's pretty gnarly, covered in grime and algae, but if there's one thing Goro is relatively decent at in household tasks, it's cleaning.]

[Tartaglia will find him scooping water in and out of the thing, the legs of his slacks still rolled up to his knees-- not that it really matters anymore, given he's basically swimming fully clothed. His hair is tied back with some kind of twine into a dinky-ass little ponytail, and he pauses with some manner of bucket half-poured into the second bucket seat of the boat to look up at the ginger.] Does your staring serve a purpose, or should I pretend you're less conspicuous? I don't believe we've met.

pt. 3; twister. [Lucia]

[He's yet to figure out how to solve the issue of proper lighting, so he's moved his bizarre find while dusting out to the front yard of his plot of land. Said bizarre find, as it happens, is a classic old game known as Twister, in a banged-up old square cardboard box. It's simple enough, the spin-board in tact and the mat suffering only a few questionable stains, and Goro is seated cross-legged beside the mat reading the instructions for what has to be the fourth time. It's a very straightforward game, but he keeps waiting for something to leap out at him from between the lines to make it more complicated.]

[Movement in his peripheral vision catches his attention and he angles his head toward it, but his eyes remain on the paper until he finishes the sentence he was in the middle of reading. His eyes then meet Lucia's, and after a beat of silence, she can likely see the gears in his little rat brain turning. A slow grin pulls his mouth crooked.] Care to test something with me?

🔪 wildcard

[Akechi spends most of his time at his farm to avoid others, trying to figure out how to make this whole farming thing work without being sociable or accepting, much less asking for, help. His plotting post can be found here, but I'm open for literally anything. I can make additional prompts or you can toss me whatever you like! Please harass my shitlord. :>b]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Listen they can be war criminals for stupid reasons together and never say a word of it to one another. It's fine!]

[Akechi watches him sidelong as they pedal along, humming wordlessly to the notion of a bow. P5 chose violence and didn't give us any bow users, so he's not actively familiar, but it's probably something he'd have considered taking as an elective in school if he hadn't been too busy being a psychological assassin. He watches as Childe summons his bow, his eyebrows making a bid for space at the literal conjuring of it from approximately nowhere, but is quick to scan the horizon for a target.]

[He leans close enough to almost bump their shoulders, but specifically avoids it, only moving that close to allow Tartaglia to follow his line of sight where he points at-- probably some kind of large bird. Picture it like a far-off azure crane, Childe.] I've always been curious about archery. [Impress him, buddy.]

[ Psychological assassination is valid. Were he capable of that on any level, he'd utilize that tactic himself. Instead, Childe nocks the strung line of it back— no quiver for arrows, but he doesn't really need that, his Vision conjures up what's necessary. ]

Remember where it is. Keep it in your line of sight. [ Bad posture, poor stance aside, it's a predestined outcome that he'll strike his target full in the thinnest part of his throat and kill it outright. ] ... After this, let's find it together.

[ Ending its life so meaninglessly should still have some inherent value. Childe's gaze doesn't waver at all. The thing is, none of him does. He merely fires it, as soon as he's charged the shot; the arrow glimmers, irradiated with light, so fast that it's a blur streaking across the sky. It takes a high, high arc, and it strikes that beautiful crane and cuts its existence short.

It's over in a couple of seconds, the form of that gorgeous bird caught mid-flight and tumbling down, dead before it's even finished its plummet. ]

I'm still unskilled. Actually, I've found it rather difficult to master. [ Archery has never come easily to him. ] Even so, I learned how to use the bow. So it isn't too late for you.

[ The implication's unspoken, but still there: he's willing to teach Goro, if he finds himself willing to suffer through Childe's horrible tutelage. ]

[Akechi keeps his gaze on the bird, flicking it briefly to Childe as he aims, fires-- there was no arrow, but then there's a strange glimmer, like light catching water, and he looks at the crane again just before it hits its mark. Watches it drop lifelessly out of sight with a strangely distant expression, Childe's voice pulling him out of his momentary trance.]

Unskilled, and you just hit a moving target from several meters away. [He's still looking at where the after-image of the crane as it was struck seems burned on the insides of his eyelids. He turns to Childe after mulling over the suggestion.]

Are you offering to instruct me?

Are you willing to take it?

[ In many respects, he'd just be subpar, passing on only what he knows. Acknowledging his own limits is the only way Tartaglia can exceed them. ]

My master could hit twice as far without looking, after all. [ Skirk truly was terrifying. Up until now, he still can't get her to use more than a single hand before she utterly annihilates him in battle. ] Though I'm happy to be of service. Who knows? Perhaps you'll surpass me and ascend to the heights she has.

[ When it comes down to it, Tartaglia is oh-so-fond of racking up favors from other people. ]

Since you can't use mine, you'll have to gather what you need. [ Can't exactly utilize a weapon whose power draws from another source entirely. One snap of his fingers, and the bow's gone. ] One more lap around the lake, then?

[ You know, before they go bird-hunting. ]

[Sir, must you really word it so suggestively?]

[Goro hums, his eyebrows attempting lift off from his face at the idea of someone hitting a target twice as far as the bird Childe had just hit without looking, but-- He might be able to manage a similar feat with a pistol, at least in the Metaverse, and people weren't given the moniker "master" for no reason.]

[He considers him a while, his pedaling having slowed while he mulls the whole idea over, and makes an affirmative sound to the question, returning to pedaling in earnest. He's quiet another handful of seconds before he nods, smiling crookedly and looking out to where the bird had fallen.] Archery seems a very useful skill, and if there's one thing I've learned being here, it's that this so-called Goddess rewards both learning how to live off the land, and teaching and learning new things, in equal measure.

[He angles his head toward Childe and offers him his left hand to shake.] I'll see what I can come up with for a bow and some arrows, if you'd be willing to teach me the basics.

[ You betcha. ]

Were you seeking out her approval that badly? [ Evading curses sounds more pragmatic, but Childe quizzically glances down at that hand, boat rocking and swaying beneath them both. C'mon, Goro. Hobbies can be plenty fulfilling in their own right. ] ... On one condition, then. If you're doing it for anyone, then why not do it for yourself?

[ After that, he'll relent to the handshake, signifying this little contract of theirs as sealed. The rest of this paddle boat ride around the length of the lake lapses into silence. At the end of the lap, Childe's mustered up a couple more questions. ]

What'll you do, once you learn? Any targets in mind?

[ Can't particularly imagine Goro as an inveterate bird-killer, but bows are a whole lot less noisy than firearms if he heads down the route that ends in murder. ]

[A derisive snort, and he shakes his head.] Not in the least, but meeting some of her requirements is the easiest way to have a livable plot of land, unfortunately, given I lack the ability to reform it on my own.

[He gives Childe a sort of confused frown and shrugs, nodding as he takes his hand.] I haven't anyone but myself to do anything for.

[He looks away at the question, thoughtful, and shakes his head.] Likely just hunting, to feed myself. [He's probably done with murder? It's hard to say.]

That's something anyone can relate to. [ Doing things simply for the sake of survival, outside of pleasure or hedonism, is understandable. ] But you can always ask for help.

[ Stepping off the paddleboat and into the embankment, Childe freely extends a hand to Akechi, all too willing to return to dry land. ]

Let's get going?

[ To bury that bird Childe killed. He will let Goro off the hook now, though, if he decides he'd rather get straight to gathering the necessary supplies he'll need for the lesson. ]

[He doesn't address that, because no, Childe, he absolutely cannot ask for help. Cannot, and will not.]

[The offer of his hand directly following such a suggestion is timed in such a way it makes Goro pause, and he has to consciously bite back the immediate desire to smack his hand away and climb out of the boat with some kind of nasty comment about pity. This wasn't pity, none of these people knew any of the things he had done, be they positive or negative. There were no preconceived notions.]

[He takes his hand and hauls himself out of the boat.] Thank you, [And he looks after where the bird had fallen.] ...with your arrow having been... conjured water, is there evidence of a weapon used?

[ Good thing Childe caught absolutely none of that inner turmoil, or he might be a touch more concerned here. Not enough to actually do anything, but the point still stands. ]

It doesn't leave a trace, although it works functionally the same as any weapon. [ Starting down the path, Childe's quick about it, his pace unbroken by anything like hesitation. ] You'll see what I mean when we arrive.

[ However long that journey takes, the evidence is clear as day, lying in the middle of a grassy clearing. For all intents and purposes, the crane does appear to be nocked with an arrow. No physical proof of it remains, save for the puncture wound, shot clean through the heart. Childe doesn't bother kneeling down to assess the damage, although Goro's welcome to approach the bird. ]

Does that answer your question?

[Akechi is unfortunately a very concerning individual, so it's for the best that Childe completely ignore those things.]

[He's quiet as they traverse the ground en route to the fallen bird, outside of a curious hum, until they arrive. He does, in fact, approach the bird, sinking into a crouch in front of it and curling one hand into a loose fist, index knuckle resting against his lips. Doesn't leave a trace, outside of the puncture wound, but certainly did work functionally the same as a physical arrow shot from a physical bow. The ones of water were still physical, he supposed, but still water, in that they evaporated when no longer needed.]

[Another hum, and he looks up curiously to Childe.] Do you figure it's edible? It's your kill regardless, but when living off the land I'm uncertain if a burial is more or less correct an action than utilizing all of what is presented. [He's sure he could find a use for the feathers, if nothing else.]

[ He just didn't catch it. But Childe can't overlook something this blatant, this sign of moral decency informing him on Goro's nature that's probably always been lurking beneath any propensity to fight. It's an odd feeling; it kind of sticks in his throat, and he remains where he stands in the clearing, unable to shake the idea that he's trespassing on this moment. ]

You're rather soft.

[ Not like it's better or worse than killing anything else. If Childe takes his bow to anything, it's usually premeditated: with a purpose, with the willingness to accept the consequences. If he can, he'd rather avoid indiscriminate murder. ]

... It's wild game. I've never eaten crane. [ Probably a little dense to swallow, not wholly palatable. ] Breast meat's a safe bet, at least. [ Childe gathers the bird up in his arms. The death was clean, barely any blood to be seen. ] If you want to take it with you, then I'll help. Where's your farm?

[He's a bit taken aback by being called soft, turning to give Childe a quizzical look for the comment.] Asking if an animal you've killed is edible makes me soft? I suppose we have slightly differing concepts of the word.

[But he seems amenable to the idea, anyway-- Akechi isn't entirely sure it makes either of them soft to bury it or eat it, but he figures he ought to make use of everything presented to him, and this crane is no exception.] I've never eaten crane either, if it makes any difference. We were just on the outskirts of it when you found me cleaning out that boat.

Is that what you were after when you asked me to shoot that bird?

[ A meal? He'll let all of that pedantry go, though, as it's ultimately inconsequential to the grander scheme of things. ]

I can try cooking it for you, but I can't vouch for the taste. [ Childe's being sincere here. While he's hunted with his father, it was never after animals this exotic. Snezhnaya is inhospitable to most living creatures for a reason. ] Assuming you're fine with it, would you like to come over to my place?

[ Thanks to all the bingos he's punched off thus far, his kitchen is pretty tricked-out. This is, of course, assuming that Goro wouldn't prefer to head over to his own farmhouse instead. ]

[Childe how are you extrapolating even stranger assumptions than Akechi himself would! That's his ballgame, don't take his one skill. He frowns, regardless, shaking his head slowly.] Not specifically, though in retrospect it does make it pose a more functional purpose than solely for sport.

[A chuckle, and he reaches out to pluck one of the crane's feathers, twisting it between his fingers.] I'm outright dangerous in a kitchen, so I assure you, you'll do just fine. [And his kitchen is still very basic because he's a little afraid of setting his entire house on fire, so he avoids it.] I'm not opposed.

Oh, so for fun?

[ Such a funny guy, Goro. Tartaglia can't make up his mind on your stance regarding living beings at all.

Breezily, he leads the way. ]

This'll be a first for me, but I'm not too bad in the kitchen. [ He's... fairly decent. Nothing too spectacular, but not awful, either. Growing up a huge household with many, many mouths to feed saw to that much. That descriptor did catch his notice, however. ] Never cooked before?

[ Dangerous mostly implies that Goro's brought mortal peril upon himself, but that's a given when spending any amount of time in Childe's company. ]

You told me to give you a target, I didn’t really have much in the way of motive in my mind when I offered you one. [It’s a rather strange use of the word, but— Well, Akechi is a rather strange young man, isn’t he. His stance on living beings is no exception, but he’ll leave Childe to deduce his own ideas of it and follow after him, taking to the subject change fluidly.]

I believe I could make use of the feathers— particularly so because I’m in the market for some arrows. [He hums, then, shaking his head.] My upbringing was a bit…, lacking, in several core teachings and experiences, so by the time I was looking after myself at fourteen I hadn’t quite hit the milsetone of learning my way around a kitchen. Thankfully, frozen meals are quite nutritious and surprisingly palatable. [Ignoring that Childe probably has no idea what a TV dinner is.]

[ Impulse, then? But that's something he can live with just fine, striding off towards his farmstead. Nearing the outskirts, he kicks the fence open, continuing down to the doorstep. Home sweet home.

Seems Akechi led a lonely, solitary life. Childe doesn't comment on it, though, in a rare show of empathy? It'll probably make this conversation a lot more awkward than it personally warrants. Pushing the door open, he leads Goro down the hallway and into the kitchen. ]

Either way, we'll need to pluck out all the excess. I'm glad that you can find some use in them. [ It'll make for cool-looking arrows, at least? ] Interesting that you'd eat your food frozen, though...

[ what the hell is a tv dinner ]

[Solitary for sure, but he'd never admit to being lonely. Doesn't change the fact that he absolutely was, but-- details! Childe is smart to not comment on it, regardless, as it's easily one of the quickest ways to piss Akechi off, and he's more of a pain in the ass than usual when pissed off.]

[He takes idle note of Childe's farmstead as he's lead through it, for no real reason other than to look, and smiles when they reach the kitchen.] Feathers can be very useful in a variety of ways, I just haven't quite come up with how to use most of them. [But he'll come up with something, surely. The ones he has in mind will absolutely make for cool-looking arrows. He looks up, then, taking a moment to realize that Childe must have completely misunderstood his meaning of frozen meals.]

...oh, no, they... They aren't frozen when I eat them, they're just stored that way. I believe it's one of those home world differences between us, frozen meals are a convenience item where I'm from that allow me to keep things I merely have to reheat to eat in my place of living. It certainly does put me at a disadvantage in places like this, however.

Convenience... yeah, the ice would keep it intact, I'd imagine. Wouldn't it change the texture of the food, though?

[ Don't eat mushy, reheated slop, Goro. Treat yourself to the fineries of life, as evidenced by Childe's willingness to take this rare, exotic bird to the sink and begin the very arduous task of plucking out its feathers, leaving them amassed in a pile on the countertop. Only other thing that comes to mind as far as using them is pillow stuffing, but it's probably a waste to use them in such a way where they'll never be seen. ]

Help yourself to a drink, if you'd like. I don't mind. [ There's a bottle of fire-water (fantasy vodka) just sitting on the table? It's already been opened, roughly a sixth of it gone. Just ransack the cabinets for a glass. ] Sounds like you might need it for what lies ahead.

[ A life where frozen meals aren't in overwhelming surplus. Gotta start cooking for yourself, pretty boy. ]

[How in the fuck does he explain flash frozen TV dinners to someone from Teyvat who clearly has no fucking idea what he's talking about. This isn't a matter of taking yesterday's spaghetti and covering it in actual ice, Childe. Goro makes a sincere attempt at boring this knowledge into Childe's skull from behind him for a long moment watching him defeather the crane, but his attention shifts to the table and the fire-water on it when it's spoken of.]

[The bottle certainly looks like alcohol, not that he's particularly knowledgeable (yet), and he glances from it to the growing pile of feathers on the counter, to the back of Childe's ginger head a few times before he moves forward to the cabinets. He claims a glass, then a second, and pours each about half-full.]

[He brings the second to the sink and offers it as he raises his own to his lips.]

Oh, you're a bold one. [ Bloody-fingered, Childe rinses off the worst of the gore to take the cup offered up to him, although the heavy stink on his hands remains. The bird's been plucked bare, but he hasn't gotten around to cutting it open and discarding the entrails. The sight of it is ghastly. ] It'll burn you if you drink that much.

[ Like fire licking down the throat. Word has it that a certain redheaded winery owner had a glassful and was knocked out for three days straight. The suspicion of poisoning runs so strong when the liquor is this stinging and torturous on the palate, but that's where the thrill comes in, too. Pleasure hand-in-hand with torment, you know how it is. ]

... Well, bottoms up!

[ Try not to sputter. Abruptly, Childe tilts his drink up, draining the glass in a heartbeat. ]

[He watches Childe just drain the glass after claiming it'll burn, and-- well, he could tell by the smell of it that it would burn, but now it just feels like a challenge. It's approximately the tenth time he's ever imbibed An Alcohol in his life, but he is physically, mentally, spiritually and every other sort of -lly incapable of backing down from a challenge, even if it isn't one intentionally issued. So there's a beat of startled silence and then he knocks his own glass backward, chugging it and oh God.]

[He somehow manages not to sputter or spit any of it out, but it's a wonder the glass doesn't shatter from the force of him slamming it back down on the counter and wheezing once the liquid is traveling its molten course down his esophagus and into his stomach.] Fuck, what is that?

[ Even he can't keep a straight face after downing what is essentially several shots in one go, and Childe's slow to tip the glass back down, breath hitching up in hoarseness. He's a whole lot more red in the face than before, but as always, Childe comes out of trouble looking triumphant. ]

Snezhnayan fire-water. [ Fantasy vodka that was imported straight from the homeland, judging by the label. Funny that the Harvest Goddess just gifted him this present, since he wasn't in possession of any liquor upon abduction. Not that he's thinking about the particulars now, what with laughing his ass off. ] Hahahaha! I can only respect a man who'd disregard his own limits. Come now, comrade. You're proven yourself capable, so have a seat before you keel over.

[ Pulling up a chair for them both, Childe abandons the prospect of cooking the bird for now. ]

Your first time? You're welcome to more, if you'd like.

[ After he's settled, Childe's poured himself another cup, albeit a mere fraction of what Goro inadvertently dared them both to imbibe. ]

[Akechi wheezes an ugly sound, guttural in how it drags out of his abused throat, and actually accepts both being called comrade and the proffered chair. He drops into it and folds his arms neatly over the table, setting his forehead against the backs of his hands.]

First time with something like that, at least. I suppose if you'd told me it was called fire-water to start I'd have been somewhat more appropriately apprehensive. [He picks his head up and grimaces at Childe, then, because the idea of inflicting more of that upon himself is... Well, he's not that masochistic, at least.] No, thank you. I imagine it's an acquired taste, but it's one I'll pass on acquiring.

🔪 i'm a fish inside a birdcage; open with some closed prompts

he deserves to be nerfed in every way possible tho

just you wait, i'm gonna save him from those nerfs

his hero.

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there he goes again

😳

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