[wowie! imagine being powerful enough to write an actual starter during memshare week. anyway, they are both stuck in the funhouse for the long haul while one of mizu's memories plays over the mirrors, loud, chaotic — and then quiet.
mizu does not seem to be too terribly bothered over this memory, despite its awful start. once the old swordsmith showed up, there's only the smallest hint of a fond smile to be found on mizu's face.]
[ i've given up on writing actual starters during memshare week frankly. too powerful. too much.
but zhongli has a severe frown at the bullying that starts the memory - he didn't suffer it, himself, but he did put an end to more than one instance of it, and it never changes. children, adults, gods... bullies are all the same.
the meteor, though... this boon from the heavens, he can't help but think of it as a sign of fortune for a child that would become the swordsmaster next to him, now, as he watches the old man with keen curiosity. he seems to perk, hearing the sound the metal makes, judging it as the blind swordsmith does, and murmurs: ] A fine quality.
[ after that, he's silent. watching the rest play out. his irritation at the children shifts to something softer, and amused, as the memory begins to wind to an end in the mirrors. ]
[after three trials, zhongli would likely recognize that mizu's sword more or less makes the same noise as that chunk of space rock. an otherworldly, metallic sound.]
The steel refused to form for many years. By the time I was able to forge a sword from it, I had already become an adult.
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week three, monday.
mizu does not seem to be too terribly bothered over this memory, despite its awful start. once the old swordsmith showed up, there's only the smallest hint of a fond smile to be found on mizu's face.]
no subject
but zhongli has a severe frown at the bullying that starts the memory - he didn't suffer it, himself, but he did put an end to more than one instance of it, and it never changes. children, adults, gods... bullies are all the same.
the meteor, though... this boon from the heavens, he can't help but think of it as a sign of fortune for a child that would become the swordsmaster next to him, now, as he watches the old man with keen curiosity. he seems to perk, hearing the sound the metal makes, judging it as the blind swordsmith does, and murmurs: ] A fine quality.
[ after that, he's silent. watching the rest play out. his irritation at the children shifts to something softer, and amused, as the memory begins to wind to an end in the mirrors. ]
... your future blade?
no subject
[after three trials, zhongli would likely recognize that mizu's sword more or less makes the same noise as that chunk of space rock. an otherworldly, metallic sound.]
The steel refused to form for many years. By the time I was able to forge a sword from it, I had already become an adult.
no subject
[ like it's a living thing - but, as the god of geo, he knows that to be the case sometimes. ]
But what a good, powerful blade that it became.
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I'm afraid I was unable to bring the steel to its full potential, however. This blade has been broken before.