to be honest, Wriothesley never thought he'd ever travel โย even when he was a little runt, he pictured himself having a happy, simple life. then the events of his life were stacked in front of him like a game of dominos: one falling into the next, cascading into a chaotic mess of tiles rounded corners that had once been carefully placed in front of him. he committed murder, he thought he would die, and then he was sentenced to serve his time in Meropide. if anyone were to ask him at the time, he would've said then that there was no seeing a future in front of him โ no five years, no ten years โ just the horizon disappearing into the fog.
but then here he was, traversing Mondstadt with a golden-haired traveler as his guide. when he thinks about it, it makes him want to laugh at that silly boy who wanted nothing but the comfort of family, and the lanky, dead-eyed little beast who became the King of Meropide. the thoughts dissolve quickly, because even when it does come to mind, he finds that he doesn't want to dwell on it.
Venti's song stays with them, as Wriothesley had listened in quiet reverie, and when the mood hits he whistles a few notes under his breath that follow the chilly wind down the mountainside. despite the freezing temperatures of Dragonspine, it reminds him of the jagged peaks and hidden caves of Elynas, even if he can't quite put his finger on why. they're passing beneath great ivory tree roots, and Wriothesley thinks that they resemble a cage of jagged ribs, but before he can comment on it, the storm hits.
it's cold in the pressured waters of Fontaine, but this is different. it stings at his skin like tiny needles when the wind touches him, finding every bare inch of skin that he didn't even know was exposed. he follows Aether with heavy boots through the snow. ]
Wow, you sure know this place well, huh? Sure you're not trying to show off?
[ it's a barb with no bite, a little sing-song lilt to his voice that he usually never cares to put into his words when he's joking. Aether's prowess for the elements is impressive, and he can't let it go without comment.
however, one of the things he's always admired about Aether is his way of defaulting to taking care of others โย he can see it as the traveler moves, cleaning the snow and bringing what little warmth the cave can offer to life. while Aether makes the cave comfortable, Wriothesley finds an abandoned teapot, and after rinsing it with some snow, fills it with newly fallen snowflakes until it melts into water before he shoves it by one of the little heaters.
Aether's pulling blankets out of his pouch, and Wriothesley is pulling tea out of his coat. there are three teabags between his gloved fingers when he stops to observe Aether and his all-too-small-blanket. ]
I've got a feeling that may be too small on you. You don't share clothes with Paimon, do you?
no subject
to be honest, Wriothesley never thought he'd ever travel โย even when he was a little runt, he pictured himself having a happy, simple life. then the events of his life were stacked in front of him like a game of dominos: one falling into the next, cascading into a chaotic mess of tiles rounded corners that had once been carefully placed in front of him. he committed murder, he thought he would die, and then he was sentenced to serve his time in Meropide. if anyone were to ask him at the time, he would've said then that there was no seeing a future in front of him โ no five years, no ten years โ just the horizon disappearing into the fog.
but then here he was, traversing Mondstadt with a golden-haired traveler as his guide. when he thinks about it, it makes him want to laugh at that silly boy who wanted nothing but the comfort of family, and the lanky, dead-eyed little beast who became the King of Meropide. the thoughts dissolve quickly, because even when it does come to mind, he finds that he doesn't want to dwell on it.
Venti's song stays with them, as Wriothesley had listened in quiet reverie, and when the mood hits he whistles a few notes under his breath that follow the chilly wind down the mountainside. despite the freezing temperatures of Dragonspine, it reminds him of the jagged peaks and hidden caves of Elynas, even if he can't quite put his finger on why. they're passing beneath great ivory tree roots, and Wriothesley thinks that they resemble a cage of jagged ribs, but before he can comment on it, the storm hits.
it's cold in the pressured waters of Fontaine, but this is different. it stings at his skin like tiny needles when the wind touches him, finding every bare inch of skin that he didn't even know was exposed. he follows Aether with heavy boots through the snow. ]
Wow, you sure know this place well, huh? Sure you're not trying to show off?
[ it's a barb with no bite, a little sing-song lilt to his voice that he usually never cares to put into his words when he's joking. Aether's prowess for the elements is impressive, and he can't let it go without comment.
however, one of the things he's always admired about Aether is his way of defaulting to taking care of others โย he can see it as the traveler moves, cleaning the snow and bringing what little warmth the cave can offer to life. while Aether makes the cave comfortable, Wriothesley finds an abandoned teapot, and after rinsing it with some snow, fills it with newly fallen snowflakes until it melts into water before he shoves it by one of the little heaters.
Aether's pulling blankets out of his pouch, and Wriothesley is pulling tea out of his coat. there are three teabags between his gloved fingers when he stops to observe Aether and his all-too-small-blanket. ]
I've got a feeling that may be too small on you. You don't share clothes with Paimon, do you?
[ he's gonna make tea. ]