Saywinde

@saywinde.bsky.social

262 Followers 163 Following

Writer, queer AF, HI3 fan. Secretly Fu Hua in disguise?! Probably not. Currently playing: Trails to Azure, ZZZ, Hi-Fi Rush, Clair Obscur

Image of text. Text reads: "Got anything sweet?" Siegfried asked as he kicked his boots off in the foyer. "I could go for something sweet." Kiana slipped out of her own shoes and slid to the kitchen, inspecting cupboards and drawers as she went. "Uuuuh we got some cookies, some protein bars that taste like candy bars, dried fruit, uuuh..." She checked the freezer for ice cream — no luck. But in the fridge... "Vanilla cake!" Siegfried stole a beer from the fridge door, popped the cap bare handed, and took a swig. "Vanilla cake sounds great. Wait. You didn't make it, did you?"
Title: just a quick solo camp Summary: On her first solo camp in years, Rin thinks of someone special. The lake glows under the light of the moon, but it’s a cold light. For warmth, I rely on my little campfire, my curry cup noodles, my big overstuffed blanket. I settle into old routines quickly, despite the many years between this solo camp and the last one; life in the big city affords few opportunities to get away. My phone still has signal; just one bar, but that’s enough. I send a selfie to Nadeshiko because I want her to send one back. Data packets trickle out and trickle in, and my patience is rewarded with a selfie taken in a warm, cozy bedroom, the frame filled with unruly pink hair and a smile that warms me more than the campfire, the noodles, the blanket. I had planned to use tomorrow’s vacation day to do some chores at home, but maybe a long distance ride isn’t a bad idea.
After being gifted a soulium body akin to those inhabited by Otto Apocalypse, the de-powered entity known as Herrscher of the Void strikes out on her own to some corner of the world away from everyone she’s known, friend or foe. And yet, a little feline is set to dispel her solitude.
“Honey, I’m home!” I said as I kicked off my boots. Chicken soup and herbs and fresh baked bread perfumed the flat. After the chill of Crossbell’s autumn and the freezing cold of the cult’s caves, it felt like a warm hug. “This is the guest I texted you about.” Laura turned off the orbal stove, undid her apron, and hung it back up on the hook in the kitchen. She was dressed in a soft sweater from Nord and blue jeans that showed off her legs. She greeted Mei the way I thought she would. “Your outfit, the way you carry yourself… Are you a student of the sword as well?” Mei’s eyes sparked with warm, red lightning that matched her eye makeup. “Yes, I am!” Ugh. Sword girls.
The Herrscher of Thunder is wearing a very soft black sweater. Her horns poke out through holes in a knit cap. Her red leather skirt sways in the brisk October breeze and her tights do nothing to hide just how lean and athletic her legs are. She's a vision of beauty in any season, but l have a weakness for her outfits in autumn. The corners of her crimson eyes tilt upwards when she sights me, and a gentle glow warms the rubies of her eyes. We kiss, and she puts a paper cup in my hands. I take a sip of warm, spiced cider. A hint of orange peel rises above the cinnamon and it's delicious. We walk into the woods until we reach the crossroads. In each direction, a different trail. Each is marked for difficulty, but all lead to the top of the mountain. We opt for the second-most challenging path-easy enough that we can talk and enjoy our drinks, not so easy that we get bored. We're in the heart of autumn, and the once green woods are aflame with oranges and brilliant reds. The paths are not yet choked with dead leaves, but that will change in a fortnight. Kiana I'm sure would love it, then. She likes to crunch the curled brown leaves under her boots, child that she is.
On a simple white plate rimmed in gold, the pizza toast burger of my dreams shone bright as the sun at high noon. The patty, swaddled in melty mozzarella-like cheese and dressed in a rich tomato sauce, sat on a pillowy slice of sourdough toast that had been crusted with this world's answer to parmigiano reggiano. Bright green herbs, stems and leaves, lounged in the sauce like glittering green gems.
Hua and I lived in the apartment above our business, so my commute consisted of a short flight of stairs. The "Birds of a Feather" detective agency specialized in the paranormal and occult. If you think your wife is cheating on you and you want us to prove it, we don't care. If you think your wife is cheating on you with a werewolf, or you yourself are a werewolf, we're your ladies. Or, lady, singular, since Hua is in the wind. Ugh. A small stack of paperwork waited patiently for me on my desk, lovingly arranged by our office manager, Piyo. Yes, he's a giant chicken. Yes, he's the only thing keeping this place afloat. He was taking a well-earned nap in Hua's vacant office by the time I started working. I was halfway through signing off on some invoices when Kiana walked in. A white linen button down draped over her slender frame, obscuring a soft cream tank top with a neckline that plunged so low it revealed a flash of her black lace bralette. Tight, black hot pants conspired with a pair of ass-kicking boots to make her long legs look longer and leggier. A seamless steel collar hugged the base of her throat. That, and a shock of purple hair in her otherwise pure white braid marked her as Mei's property. She wore her usual armaments: a short sword strapped across her back and a semi-automatic pistol holstered at her left thigh. I pushed the client chair out with my foot and motioned for her to sit. "What brings the Demon Prince's consort to my humble place of business?" I asked. She placed an iced coffee in front of me before pouring herself into the chair. I took a sip. Dark roast, cream, a touch of sugar, just the way I like it. I drank it like it was water. I should probably drink more water. Bright blue eyes peered at me over a pair of chrome aviators. "I wish I could say this was a social visit, but duty calls." I shook the coffee, rattling the ice. "How bad is it?" "The Arcadia Concord has been invoked. You've been nominated as an impartial investigator."
Rita Rossweisse, adjutant, spy, assassin, and maid of the Immortal Blades, stepped onto the balcony of her London flat wrapped in a champagne silk dressing gown carrying a cup of Earl Grey and a well-loved paperback. It was a ritual she enjoyed every weekday morning while her wife, Bianka, went on a morning run. Typically a solitary event, today was the second Friday of the month, which meant she'd have some very special company. A sharp breeze cut through the air, catching the pages of the book and opening them to the end of chapter 18 where Rita had last left off. When she looked up, Kiana Kaslana was leaning against the balcony railing, a copy of the same paperback in her hand and light sparkling in the pink pupils of her eyes. "That. Fight. Ruled!" Kiana shouted, though only Rita could hear her. "When Kenna unsheathed the saber of Jotunheim and was like, 'Time to put your ambitions on ice' I screamed." Rita giggled. "I had a feeling you'd like that part. I loved the swordplay. The way each character's fighting style represents their personality is a lovely touch." Kiana mimed some basic fencing moves. "You're such a Kenna," she said. "Elegant and poised." Rita curtsied. Two chapters and one more cup of tea later, Rita moved her bookmark and shut the paperback. The two women hugged, and when Rita let go, she was alone on her balcony again. She turned to look at the moon which, despite the rising sun, still hung in the pale blue sky. Rita waved. One day, Kiana would be free to leave the moon without having to rely on astral projection and psychic tricks. Until then, Rita would keep sending her books to read and carving out time on her calendar.
She went into the store for snacks while I gassed up the car, checked the tire pressure, cleaned the windshield, scraped a layer of dead bugs off the grill, threw out the trash that had rolled off the backseats and onto the floor, and called ahead to the hotel to confirm our reservation. She rewarded me with a protein bar and a canned coffee paid for with my own money. We took turns braving the restroom. The radio was all static on the mountain roads so she sang for me instead, my own private concert at sixty-five miles per hour.
It's that day again. For once, I want to celebrate, but my past shackles me to my bed. The corpses of my victims are leaden anchors hooked into my flesh. Their final howls of anguish drown out my own pained cries. The innkeepers are ignorant to my anguish. It’s just as well—there’s nothing they could do anyway. A breeze grazes my cheek, a breeze I desperately hope for but am too proud to ask for. Venti sits with me, his wine-tinted breath shaping a palliative melody. He plays with my hair, plants a kiss on my cheek, and stays.
Kiana looks pleased with herself and Bianka is putting on a fake pout. They’re returning from a chase around the park – Krishna vs. hoverboard. It ended in a tie when they nearly crashed into each other. Siegfried has three ice creams waiting at the picnic table. His own hill of dessert has been carved into. The other two are untouched and share the same leporine profile. HOMU is a rabbit, right? The girls take their seats and pick up the flimsy plastic spoons, their eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Thanks, papa!” they say in harmony, and dig in. “I used to get HOMU sundaes all the time when I was globetrotting,” Kiana said. Siegfried doesn’t know this. He wasn’t there for much of her childhood. Learning this about his daughter makes him happysad. “You used to like these,” he tells Bianka. “When you were little, you liked vanilla chip ice cream with a banana split in half, just like this, and stuck in to look like HOMU ears.” The sisters share a precious moment of awe. “Wait until Rita finds out about this. She’ll make homemade ice cream and source organic bananas. She’ll carve perfect HOMU ears from the banana instead of just cutting it in half.” “And Mei will make an ice cream confection so cute you’ll be afraid to eat it.” Usually a chocolate man, Siegfried has opted for the luxury of strawberry ice cream. According to the vendor, the strawberries are fresh and in season this time of year in Oxia. The sweet, lightly acidic flavor of strawberries is perfect with cream, and the hint of salt makes the experience a little electric. Cecilia always had good taste, he thinks.
Between the two of them, the bottle of juice drains at a steady pace. Mei takes hers straight up. Even after becoming a teacher, she never found the burn of alcohol to be soothing, the drunken state to be entertaining. She doesn’t like how it unsteadies her sword arm either. Kiana splashes a little bourbon into her cups – her Kaslana constitution demands it. Lunar regolith is a poor substitute for the white sands of Waikiki, but the girls bring out the bikinis and beach chairs anyway. They reminisce, plan their future. But mostly, they drink in coveted peace between crises.
“She is, for better and worse, our leader,” Bronya sighed. “So let’s say you are a bunch of demi-gods from another universe. What are you doing here? You’re not here to like, invade or anything are you?” “Actually, we are here to steal your women and defeat you at all your video games.” Bronya was deadpan enough that Belle couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. Helia laughed nervously. “We’re not here to-“ “Give us your females!” Coralie declared. “Er...” Belle glanced at the door. She had an open lane from her seat to the exit. If she sprinted, they probably couldn’t catch her. Probably. “I’m sorry about these two,” Helia said. “They like to mess around. I assure you we come in peace. Oh no, that’s what all the aliens say in those sci-fi movies. No really! We don’t want your women!” Belle’s nervousness intensified. “Change of plans!” Coralie shouted. “Give us your males and non-bineys!” “I don’t think ‘non-bineys’ is the correct term,” Helia said. At that moment, Wise entered the shop. “Hey everyone, what’s u-“ “Brother! Run!” Belle sprang to her feet and shoved her brother back outside. “You’ll never take him!” Coralie whispered into Helia’s ear. “I think may have taken things too far.” “You think?”
"Your fear doesn’t justify the crimes you committed, but it’s a motive I understand, so I choose to grant you this small mercy before you go. Besides, it’s the least I could do. I am the one who killed you, after all." "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm so sorry. I just wanted us to be safe, to be ready when they came back. I thought if we could turn their technology against them-" She coughed. There was blood. In the real world, her body must've been shutting down. "I just wanted us all to be safe." She lifted her gaze to me one last time. I could see the ask in her eyes, the desperate hope for forgiveness, for absolution. Even if I wanted to, it wasn't mine to give. That right belonged to her victims. Another wave came in. When it washed out, she was gone. I opened my eyes and took my hand off the ruined face of Talia Burgess, leader of this once lively crew of mercs. The stench of blood, shit, and decay hit me all at once. I turned off my sense of smell.
Vill-V: We now go live to our floor reporter, Elysia! Take it away, Elysia! Ely: I'm here with Raiden Mei who is working on a big big fish! Sweet Mei, can you tell me what you're working on?" Mei: I'm making a tuna dish. Ely: Tuna! Mei: Yes, it's my favorite girl I mean my favorite fish to work with. Ely: Why so? Mei: It has a delicious, umami flavor, rich, fatty texture, and she's just so fun to cuddle and hold. I mean, um, I have to get back to cooking! Ely: You heard it here first! Mei is down bad for Kiana and she's cooking a tuna dish.
Bread from Lucelle's Boulangerie. Jam from the market stall where the orange tabby cat lays across the orange fruit. Saucisson from the old butcher who starts every sentence with a smack of his lips. Cheese from the lady who insists on rolling the 'R' in Roquefort because she's practicing her Natlanian. The delicate Beryl is from Lady Furina's personal label. Fried tofu from the Inazuman restaurant the expats love. Shopping list as recipe works when you can't cook. Ei ponders the clouds huffing through the sky. She waits for Miko outside the Palais on this perfect day for a picnic.