“… Honestly. I tend to get concerned when things go too well. If you want the truth of it, I mean.” They’d be exploring this musty old place for some time, the silver-haired woman, and herself. It smelled of ruin, and neglect - Of abandonment.

Lulu frowned, and rubbed at her temple, lost to thought.

“… For every discovery, every precious sphere, there’s this feeling of… Dread, I guess. Not like panic, I mean. No. More, a question of - where does it end?”

She glanced at her companion, and offered a wry smile. “… Which is probably why I’m not out hunting fiends or spheres too much, anymore. Though… I do appreciate being brought along on this. Truly.”

@pxine

Her face was tilted in the direction of the other women, despite her attention was turned to their surroundings. She was listening, even if her attention seemed like it was elsewhere. “Spheres usually attract fiends, if you find the former without the latter, it usually means something’s wrong.” She almost felt absentminded as she spoke but that was most likely due to her attention being somewhere else. The energy and the pyreflies that made up a sphere seemed to attract a big fiend or two and then a bunch of smaller ones. It felt too quiet in here. The hairs on her arms stood up.

Turning her full attention back to her companion, a small nod was given in her direction. “Not a problem.” The mage’s insight could prove useful as was her skills in black magic. “And to tell you the truth, it sphere hunting never seems to, despite what the people have you believe.” But it would at some point. Paine imagined it would. People would keep a tighter grip on their memories and it felt as if there was only so many places left in Spira one could hunt for spheres.

“Fiends however. They never end. People will always die viciously or won’t be able to accept it. It’s just the way it is.” A shrug left her as she folded her arms. It did get dull sometimes.

“... Is that so...“ Her words weren’t tinged with doubt, or disbelief. Paine was a woman who knew her trade - and had proven time and again that she’d speak her mind. It was a peculiar kind of trust - one, Lulu smiled briefly, in the darkness - you could only really find in Paine.

Of course, she’d hidden that the main reason she’d decided to come along was the good cheer at being included in the company of a friend; it didn’t exactly fit her image, and more to the point... Lulu never felt she expressed herself well with those little pleasantries. But Paine’s quiet tone and stoic demeanor seemed to understand her, just fine. Glancing at her companion’s crimson eyes, Lulu offered a slight, crooked grin - this one, unhidden.

“... Actually... You might not believe this, but I’ve heard a few frightening stories of fiends. Hmhmn... In fact, probably six or seven, in total. All terribly true.”

Their idle conversation continued in the dim light, as Lulu attempted to build up a fearsome atmosphere - but the halls around them were a bit too peaceful for scary stories - at least, so it seemed. “... If it’s really that boring, perhaps I’ll finally pull you away from your work - I believe I owe you a mountain spring, hrmn? ... It’s the least I can in return for you humouring - “ Her joke trailed off, as her own amber eyes narrowed. The scent of fire crackling in and out of existence lit their way, as the path faded to a steep cliff-face... Leading into a seemingly awning pit, above which several pyreflies danced.

“Mm… the Alethi are quite serious about their food, Brightness.” Not that everyone who wandered for the occasion was necessarily Alethi, but the comment stood true regardless!

He was… uncertain.

That was the expression most prominently etched into his features, pale eyes regarding his companion carefully.

…. the vendors would absolutely compete for their attentions if necessary. The victor standing dominate when it finally came down to the critical decision to guide the prince and his strangely colored bright-eyed lady to their stall of choice! Such food would become the trend of the day unless the heir found it fit to wander through, or Blackthorn himself.

If that happened, well, the other vendors would be best to shut down their own business for the remainder of the fair, for it would be no contest at all to which stall the general populace would find themselves wandering that round of the ‘retail game!’

It was that initial push that Renarin was so uncertain about. He wasn’t totally thrilled with all the attention cast in his direction, however used to it he was. He was supposed to be a guard and a guard with so many eyes zoned in to focus on him would certainly…. sort of…. defeat the purpose. Unless he was supposed to serve as some manner of distraction… But he was not involved in a field exercise…

Well, not that sort of field exercise any way.

Maybe it was a good thing so many were focused on him, giving Brightness Shallan the chance to cruise through the stalls looking for her delicacy of choice. They could give her suggestions all they wanted. Sometimes it was better for the eyes to graze over the selections personally, sniffing the perfumed aromas and testing the consistency before adequate choices could be made. After all, food was all about personal preferences! There would be something there to appeal to her taste, surely!

Renarin was able to guard without truly guarding, serving as that necessary distraction, pulling any potential threats toward him! Yes! That was how he would look at it.

He intended to stand and mind his business….. rendered pleasantly surprised when a portion of the morsels she ‘pilfered’ were deposited into his possess, a more than fair exchange! It pleased him because of how inappropriate it was. How farfetched to stand as a prince garbed in a guard uniform breaking bread with a Brighteyed lady of a certain class - to be promised to his brother. His brother might have given her a side-eye, only humoring her if only because she may not be entirely aware of their practices. But it was a harmless mistake.

Not in that case.

He was not a prince in the role he ‘played’ currently. He was a simple guard. So… it really wasn’t THAT inappropriate in that case.

He would pretend it was any way.

“Thank you, Brightness.” He bowed his head. “This is a good choice. It’s one of the hottest they sell.” Legally. Safely?

Hotter the more that went down the gullet. It was said to eventually light up the insides. Because food was not food unless it tinged the nose hairs.

Why eat food if it wasn’t a fully immersive experience?

Honestly.

He still felt….

Odd… standing there within her company, but it had lessened somewhat. Perhaps it was because of her seemingly carefree attitude. She acted like she knew exactly what it was she was doing. 

“Most attendees find a place to settle upon the ground, Brightness. Did you wish for me to find you a more suitable spot?” If he had to, he could surely shuffle away people already positioned. Because he was a guard.

… and that’s what guards were supposed to do?

….. maybe.

It depended on the wants of his charge! Not that his duties specifically assigned him to a particular charge. It just happened to work out that way.

It was in fact, safe, and most certainly legal - that was the lie she repeated to herself as she sat down, fully ready to help herself to a nice meal - and, soon turned redder than her hair, and redder than her most common blushes. Thankfully, Shallan had the dignity to not rise to her feet immediately, flailing around and crashing into stalls or walls while looking around for someone to help her - possibly not Renarin, since she’d gone to such trouble to pretend that she had a clue what she was doing, and he’d just get frustrated, probably, and then it’d be all her fault -

But, slowly, the warmth drew out the subtle and strong flavours, rich and gentle. It welled up against the spirit and tickled the tongue and made you want to smile - Cuisine, good cuisine, was a universal language, even when you had no idea what you were trying to say.

Allowing herself back to her feet from where she had (undaintily) sought to rest against the ground, she shot him a look - grinning, a little, as his eyes quickly flitted away. Well - at least she wasn’t the only nervous one here...

“Uhm. Yes! I think that, you know, you’ve probably got a... Ahaha, a much better idea of where to sit then I do. Also, I probably should’ve - waited for it to cool down, shouldn’t I...”

Her chuckling faded as she eagerly walked aside him - this time deciding to give him a careful, appraising stare. Careful not to make it seem as if she were staring at him, like - like some of the others she’d seen did, and careful not to be too direct... She watched the easiness of his stride as he led her around. The slight confidence when he’d spoken about Adolin, though brief - and the genuine gratitude he’d held when she’d given his portion to him. Was it so rare? Were people - truly, so cruel, here... Biting her lip, she knew she wanted to say something, anything. But her thoughts were too fragmented, and - honestly, this was fine. In the moment -

In the moment, it was better to be walking beside him as a friend, then to ask him about - how he might be viewed. Besides! With good food, and Renarin clearly having picked out a few spots suitable - she found herself thinking, with a broad grin - for a lady of dainty persuasion and a princely guard, well! That, right there, was fine, too. “You know - er, back in Jah Keved, there - well, not all of Jah Keved, but... We live near a lot of arid swamp. Sitting on the ground is a lot less fun when you have to be on the lookout for cremlings, aha!..” She paused, and nodded - perhaps to herself. “I - I rather like it here. There’s a lot of good food, and... I never imagined how much knowledge was present in Alethi society. Er, that sounds a bit weird, let me re-phrase...” But she didn’t. Actually, she didn’t feel as if she needed to - Renarin, after all, had found a rather nice place to sit, it seemed... Which, she found herself thinking - with a kindly grin his way - was pretty impressive, for such a newly-anointed guard.

???

but he heard none. would it be that he could lose himself in something so banal―the wind mattered not so long as he swung, sleeveless and rugged without much restraint. the clang of steel against shackles drowned out all else. from it, bodies bled and both factions dwindled. but wayfarer auron, caught in their crosshairs by stroke of misfortune, belonged to neither and no one. what blade chased him, he parried with ease. and that was that.

it was his unlucky streak that pursued him worse. the sun sweltered high above them, impartial witness to the onslaught and its thinning numbers. among the green and purple menagerie of masked beasts and their puppeteers, two outliers domineered the field: himself, and some meters off, the kinshi warrior at whom he could only afford to glimpse between every other kill. though he saw no art in war, the plunge of her spear came sinisterly close―braving the skies, headpiece gleaming gold, an angel of death if auron had ever seen one.

they whittled away their enemies, both immersed in their own skirmishes until the last beast fell. with their attentions whole again, their gazes met, each more aware of the other now than ever. her smile was seasoned with something he could not put his finger on―and this itself was a rare event that only served to heighten his guard.

remembered? his brow seemed to ask. “… my story is not one to be.” and should it end there, he had only himself to blame. with a languid roll of his shoulder, where his rusted sword sat, auron steadied himself with little more to say. it seemed she, too, would challenge him―so be it.

“now.” for she was blue, and he was red. 

... He understood.

For a moment, and only a moment, she stood still. Out of respect - or surprise, it was impossible to say. Neither she, nor this stranger had lived so long as to show their feelings so suddenly -

But, if there was an odd serenity to the smile in that eternal second, then so there was.

From above, it was easy to let all the shapes of men blend together, and die nameless; perhaps her one remorse, for no warrior deserved to be left forgotten. But the man before her, clad both in red, and that crimson haori - had never left her sight. And his blade, besotted with rust, was still lighter than the arm that lifted it -

Though she noticed every dance of sinew, and the practised ease of muscle, glistening in the ochre light.

He wielded his blade as a calligrapher readying his brush, and seemed almost to have stepped from an inked painting, himself - the colours faded, yet vibrant. And it was a pity that the last person to know him would herself; but she could not weep.

So their dance begin anew, and without a certain end. There were none of the jeers or taunts of the young at war, here; just the sweat staining her fingers

and he moved so gracefully, flowing around her strikes as a river while the speckled rust of his blade danced as motes against her cheek There were words she wished to say, of course. It was unlike any battle she had held; and he must know it, even if she was the victor. A thousand words; left unsaid. ... What she said, as she fell back to a reserved position, breath carefully even as she wiped at the fresh cut drawn down her lip, was:

“... I was foolish. We’re surrounded.” Her eyes left his, for the first time - drawing in the sight of the masked ghouls closing in, in a mob, around them. ... There would be no victory, today. So...

The whistle split the sky as the golden kite gave its signature trill, cutting through the sky, towards them. And she wasn’t sure why she did it, but knew it was right, as to him - She held out her hand.

heliokrantor:

—  || ♜♛

“Spying? Brightness Davar, do I strike you as the sort of man that spies on my competition?” His indignant huff was ruined by the grin that refused to stay down. “Gather information on them, sure, try to find out their strengths and weaknesses, certainly, but to do so by spying?

His amused snort bordered on the bark of a full laugh. “Even if I had the wish or aptitude for it, they’d see me from a mile away.”

Much like he’d seen Shallan amongst all the others when she’d picked her way over to him; despite her shorter height and slender stature, she stood out like a sphere against the twilight, easily distinguished in the crowd. Never mind the amusing thought of himself attempting and failing to spy, he doubted Shallan could ever manage to sneak around inconspicuously either.

Her hand rested light and easy on his proffered arm, and he turned the two of them towards their destination after a quick glance over to his father and brother. Renarin sent him a little half-smile and a shooing motion before turning to speak quietly with Dalinar, and the two trailed behind with their guard. Kind of them. I’m glad neither of them has the sort of dislike that Mashala is holding onto…

Well. His aunt would come around in the end.

“You got things for me?” Black-striped eyebrows rose in astounded delight; the fingers of his left hand curled slightly, unconsciously. The blush on her cheeks threatened to drown out her freckles, amazingly, the bright red showing up so very easily on her, and he suspected that it was creeping down under her collar as well.

It was really cute.

As was the smile she turned to him, though cute wasn’t quite the right descriptor, not with that touch of mingled hope and pride, and a certainty turned towards him underneath that sparked him to pull his shoulders a little straighter.

Lovely. Yes, she was that as well.

“-as if your presence wasn’t enough gift already, Shallan.” Okay, so perhaps that answer was a bit rote, but the surprise that she’d hunted down gifts was enough to throw him off-balance - though enjoyably so. Since when did ladies get him gifts? “Did you find it yourself, or did you chase down Renarin and corner him with questions?”

“Don’t look at me so intensely, I don’t know what I’ll do about it! I mean, you know, aaaaAAgggHHhHHhhhhHHHhhH!”

(She really didn’t know, too, if she was honest.) The reality was that this was definitely too much to handle - she had played the image of his reaction over a few times in her head, just to be prepared, and in every possible scenario, he’d been happy, complimented her a little, and then... Sort of let it die off, right, aha - Forcing herself to breath, Shallan tried to remember what he’d been talking about, what he’d asked. Then she remembered the look he’d made when making that crack about spying, and frowned petulantly. Well, he didn’t need to know about that, anyway, but was she truly so unbelievable -

“I’m actually very, aha, very surprising, in every way.”

That sounded like a boast, and it was, but it also fell a bit flat. Fortunately, he seemed to enjoy her presence even when she was racing her words into the soil, and that made her feel a little better. The surprise of those dark brows hadn’t faded, though, and his smile still held the same warmth it had when he’d first seen her. ... Her heart slowed a bit, and she smiled, attacking the strands of red hair that threatened to overwhelm her eyes.

“A, well, a bit of both. Renarin actually gave me a - a few ideas, some people to talk to. And ‘get’ you gifts isn’t entirely right either, I mean, yes, I got you some things... Ugh, are you trying to mine me for information...”

You’re the worst, her eyes spelled out at him in recrimination, but her smile defied them.

“I - in retrospect, I’m not sure if visiting shops is what you want to do right now, or even - tomorrow, but, there are a few... Things that’ve been reserved for you, because...” With every word, her voice drifted quieter and quieter still.

“... I thought you might want, you know, to feel free again. I thought a lot about what I’d feel like, cooped up like that. It’s not an easy thing to think about.”

Her smile held, for a few seconds, a few seconds too long Shifting it back into a more natural - slightly mocking, though only in the most pleasant manner - grin, she reached her hands up and batted at his hair, tousling it gently.

“Anyway, if you’re going to stare at me like that and... Say so many nice things, we might as well at least, aha, make it a... A date, I guess..?”

heliokrantor:

—  || ♜♛

Adolin grinned broadly and sketched the shadow of a bow in acceptance of the compliment – more a dip of the head and shoulders and a slight flourish of his hand than anything, gracious but not low enough that anyone familiar with the Alethi could assume a conceding of authority.

Stormfather, but it had been a while since he’d needed to play the diplomat. Trained into his bones from a young age, though, the skill of it returned easily enough, like muscle memory.

“Most dignitaries still prefer the comfort of civilization back in Kholinar to the warcamps, even though the King and Highprinces show no sign of returning until the Vengeance Pact is fulfilled. The least we can do for those that make the journey is make sure that they are shown the utmost hospitality.” His grin bared a few more teeth. “Though the camps and the Shattered Plains seem no hardship for you, Brightlord.”

There was something in the way the man held himself – the easy charisma, the rolling fighter’s stride, the vicious delight with which he’d taken in the lighteyes’ practice grounds and the sparring that churned the sand there… It called to mind memories from years ago, when many of his father’s soldiers saluted with a respectful murmur of ‘Blackthorn’ rather than ‘Highprince’.

But the calculating assessment that sparked sharp behind those light brown eyes reminded him more of his uncle, and of Sadeas, and he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that.

“That’s either the Herdazian chouta, or frying tenem - that one’s usually served with chicken.” He gestured expansively at the widening road, the calls of the stalls’ hawkers easily carrying up the bowl-like slope as they made their way down to the mercantile ring. “Personally, I’d suggest the chicken, but I’m biased.”

“Chicken, huh...”

If a moment could pass into an eternity, then so it did. Between the blank stare of the older man and the accommodating - if slightly bemused expression - on the Prince’s face, it might seem as if time itself had frozen, left to hang by the thinnest of strands. And then it shattered, and the self-proclaimed Caesar laughed until it looked as if he might double over. “Whew, huh. Crazy, absolutely f - storming crazy. I can’t get enough of this place. Chicken, white eyebrows, storms - give me a second. Gotta catch my breath.”

That, however, wasn’t what he needed to catch at all.

Once the blurring pangs of consciousness had melded back together, Caesar gave Adolin another glance - this time more shrewd, more evaluating. Here was a man who’d held his position since birth - which, of course, usually led to degenerate profligacy.

But he clearly fought regular. Kept himself strong. And at the same time... Hostile was the furthest thing from that smile, but there was this...

Uneasiness? Anger? No, no - some kind of memory, kith and kin to some other event, or place, or person. Smiling smugly, Caesar tapped his knee. Got you.

“I’ve gotta say, I’ll try some of the chicken. Hey, Prince. Can I ask you a personal question? You seem like you’ve got a lot on your mind. If I’m wasting your time, tell me flat-out. I’m a pretty flexible guy, for an old fart.”

His smile widened, and he eyed up the ‘chicken’ - well, it was probably less radioactive than the crap back home, at least.

“... But, I’ve seen a lot in my life. And I’m pretty storming good at telling when somebody is thinking about something else. Sometimes, sharing is caring. Try me!”

His smile contracted, thin, but still pleasant.

“I’m a great listener. Might even have a few ideas for you...”

reina.

xii: hence the enlightened ruler is heedful, and the good general full of caution; this is the way to keep a country at peace and an army intact. upon the knock kamui folds the book shut, noting the page in lieu of leaving a heinous dogear. it is a befitting volume that precedes her company, marred and dicey but wiser for it all―no other but reina, svelte and smiling and true as ever.

“please, don’t worry!” kamui receives her warmly, a dismissive wave challenging her apology. “i understand. and truthfully, you aren’t very late at all! thank you very much for seeing me―” for believing in me. “won’t you sit?” her quarters are no queen’s; they are hardly a princess’s at that, but with its bookshelves and ornamental footrest, the treehouse is cozier respite. but on to the heart of the matter.

“i’m the one who’s sorry for imposing. ah… if you’re not too busy, i was just wondering if you could tell me a bit about… about my mother.”

“Ah...” Her eyes alight for only the briefest of seconds, Reina pauses, it clear from the smile on her face that of all the requests in the world, this was the furthest from her mind... And the one that might please her most.

Used to the spartan accommodations of life on the warpath, the older woman takes a seat to her Lady’s side (somewhat stiffly, another side-effect of so many campaigns); her enthusiasm as she brings her hand to her lip defies that however, making her seem a young woman, again - talking of secrets, and little joys.

“It would be my pleasure, my Lady. For one - she had excellent taste in literature, much as yourself. Though she was a bit - forgive me. This shall have to be our secret...”

There was nobody who would punish them for speaking like this, but Reina felt as if the best way to honour those who had gone beyond was to remember them. And Mikoto - had been a dear friend, indeed. “She would often become so entranced in her reading that when one of us startled her, she’d jump up with a little yell, and knock things to and fro. Somehow, she’d do all that - and still look the image of a perfect Lady!..”

Her smile widening, Reina glanced at Kamui; her slight frame, strong and regal, the way she held herself as easily in the presence of commoners and kings.

Yes - the two of them were very similar, indeed.

@heliokrantor

continued from x

Zed was pleasantly relaxed and buzzed, enjoying his second beer in what would probably be many to come, having just finished a good day of surfing.  Another round or two, an order of spicy chocobo wings, and he would be content.

He laughed along with his drinking buddies, telling lewd jokes, tipping his beer bottle in the direction of the woman as she entered the bar.  Zed had a cheesy pickup line on the tip of his tongue as she approached, but forgot about it completely when she spoke first.  And, asked for him by name.

Well, then.  This was certainly turning out to be an interesting vacation.

“Yeah, that’s me,”  Zed confirmed, offering up an empty barstool.  “You’re looking for who, now?”  he continued, frowning.

“... Are those the spicy ones?” She took the stool, not blinking. Then - then... Her face lit up into a huge grin.

“I love these ones. Hope you don’t mind.” The guy to her right clearly did, but she hadn’t eaten since she’d gotten here, so, they were forfeit; rules of nature, and all that. How’d Junko said it, only the strong survive...

After the blissfully hot rush of spicy wings had drowned out guy #2′s protesting, she swiftly swiped the excess wing spatter from her cheek, and fixed Zed with a steely stare... (Though perhaps a little diminished.)

“Assassins. The kind of people who are lower than low. Not low like - permission to speak freely - the jokes you were just telling. That previous one, it would’ve been funnier if the punchline was child-birthin’ hips!..”

Her second wide grin quickly suppressed itself. Well, she’d thought it’d be funny, anyway...

“... They attempted to hurt my sister. My family. I’m the consequence. And that’s why I want your help.”

She paused, again, then - then she frowned, a little.

“Are you on vacation, or something... I didn’t calculate that into my plans. I hate interrupting people’s free time. Oh. Sorry about interrupting your free time, guys.”

She whispered in a somber tone, as she stole more spicy wings from guy #3.

heliokrantor:

—  || ♜♛

There was something brittle in Shallan’s laugh, but she did not shrink back, only closer, softer, as if by force of touch and will alone she could gentle the blow of inevitable reality.

The skin of her cheek was smooth under the stroke of his thumb, though not as soft as her ever-guarded safehand, now laid bare along with the cresting flood of everything they had so little time to say. “It would be-” A stumble, reaching for the words. “Yes. If you’d lend your strength beside mine.”

I’m not much right now either. In a few hours, I’ll be even lesser than that.

“I want to keep you,” he murmured into her crown, emphasised by the tightening of his hand around hers where their fingers still locked together, palm to palm. It was selfish, desiring to hold her and keep her and have her by his side, even after all this. Selfish, yes - but that was no deterrent to the wanting that roared sure and possessive in his chest.

It wasn’t just the causal arrangement that kept you with me. You chose to continue, you chose to stay, you chose-

The collar of her havah was stiff as he brushed past it, the touch of his fingertips lingering for only a moment at the nape of her neck before deciding better of it, instead resting on her shoulder with a slow, almost absentminded stroke.

“One way or another, our causal will be dissolved once the sentence is confirmed.” Adolin held no illusions of him being allowed to stay in Urithiru, Alethkar, or even the position he’d been born into. Ironically, it was because of that station as Prince that he knew the possible and most likely outcomes of his trial; he’d once been expected to make and hand down such decisions himself, had already done so on occasion in his father’s place.

Under his hands, under where he pressed his face to Shallan’s hair, he tried to gauge her reaction. He could not see it, and even at the best of times there always seemed to be something hiding behind the easy curve of her smile, the tilting lean whenever she focused on a person or subject, but if he tried, he might…

“You’d stay with me, after?” It was a soft, forlorn hope, but a hope nonetheless.

‘You’d come with me?’ was not what he meant; she was a Radiant, she was essential, they’d need her and her visual analysis skills and her quick mind for a better chance in the looming war, and he knew that as well as any. Better, even.

‘You’d stay mine?’ was the question that pressed indents between the delicate bones in the back of her safehand, breathed low and silent between the words he actually voiced.

He’d never been good at picking the right thing to say.

“Don’t...” It wasn’t a disagreement, or even a protest. It was an unformed sentence, left to hang by its own trail, and die in the musty air that pervaded this place. And it was also a command. You can’t let that train of thought continue. Thinking about it will make it real. Making it real, will...

But she let it hang, rather than confirm it, sighed and sucked back air as she tried to understand what he felt, how he must be feeling. Was he thinking of her, or - or what might become of her? And what of what that meant for him? It was all too much, and she felt as if...

With a long sigh, she tried to sense some kind of rhythm in his breathing, in the little pauses between where the warmth of his skin brushed up against the red strands of hair that - as always - tried to poke in every direction. She didn’t even bother to think about them, anymore.

“Why are you even thinking like that? You, ahaha, you, you can’t... You...”

But she realized that they weren’t really talking to each other; not like this. In a way, she thought, bitterly - glad that those regal blue eyes couldn’t see her face, right now. The cruelest part of it was that their ability to speak, as friends, as lovers, and as people had been cut in half... Separated between light, and shadow.

Her eyes shut, she tried to correct herself; to imagine what he must imagine, in the closeness and absence that permeated his cell, and her so nearby. ... The words came, if slowly. “That’s not ever something you need to ask again. None of those, not a single one of those... Nothing here matters to me!” And that brought some attention, more than she liked - but perhaps her face was more fearsome than she’d thought possible, because that same attention decided that they weren’t going to look into this, instructions or no.

“I don’t care about... The rules of it, or if it’s dissolved, or if you’re not allowed to set foot here, ever again. No. I care for - for you, all right? I care that this happens to you! But I would never, not even once..!”

Hating that she was crying again, she let her face fall against the bars.

{Hey! Pal, you asked for this one!}

heliokrantor:

—  || ❂

“What? No bike?” It was the kind of whine only a thwarted teenager could make, and for all that he’d survived the end of the world, swayed and threatened demons to his side, and pretty much made a deal with the actual Devil himself, Naoki was still just a boy in his teens.

His disappointed pout was truly impressive, especially when accompanied by a roll of his eyes and the most dramatic sigh he could muster. “Fiiiiiine, but next time you’re in town I demand a ride. Some world of freedom if we can’t go blasting down the highway…”

Naoki scuffed the sole of his trainers along the concrete, hands stuffed into his pockets, and grinned up at the tall half-demon that towered over him with ease. “So what is it then? Pancakes, or konnyaku? Though I gotta warn you, when Chiaki and Isamu and I go to get pancakes, it’s a friendship bonding exercise, and by that I mean that we try to steal the butter off the top of each other’s pancake towers, and if you think Chiaki was vicious with a demon arm then you should see her armed with a fork.”

The grin widened, sharpening, and perhaps if one looked close one could see the demifiend that still lurked under the illusion of a boy. “If you think a scrum over candlesticks was tough, just wait ‘til you see how well I can defend a plate.

“As for the coin toss…” He eyed Dante with great suspicion. “…we using your coin?”

“Kid, listen. Naoki. My man.” Putting aside that nobody used lingo like that, anyway -

“Freedom is facing your responsibilities, like a real man. Earning your way in society, paying your dues, brushing your teeth - things like that are what real freedom is all about!” Such was the easy smile of a man who, well, hey, he flossed.

Dante paused, trying to look offended. Given the wide berth of his shoulders as he shrugged, the effect was a bit transparent, but - well, hey. After the whole excitement of the world ending... Well, people needed chances to be people. He knew plenty about that.

So it was with a grin that he broke the shrug, shut his eyes, and smirked.

“You can’t intimidate a professional gambler, Naoki. I’m not a professional gambler, but you can’t intimidate me, either. And bringing face-nipples and treebeard into this ain’t helping your cause.”

But, ‘defeat’ was plenty easy to accept, and he lounged into it comfortably, stifling a yawn.

“Your bitter recriminations aside, I suddenly decided I’ll pay. Man, it’s great to be a mature adult, huh? Ah, aha... So. Friendship-bonding exercise, huh? It mostly just you three, or..?”