lured-into-wonderland

[lured-into-wonderland]

He was angry. This was what Nunnally could figure out listening at the words Vasha was speaking to her. And the conversation he was having with Sevren. But she didn’t quite understand why he was so angry. And at whom. At her? At demons in general? At his life and who he was?

At humans…he seemed to be serving? At gods? Angels? Would he listen if she tried to explain something to him?

“You’re wrong…” – Nunnally attempted despite being convinced it would not serve the purpose; Vasha was not interested in whatever she had to say. He aimed at humiliating at? And it seemed that his interaction with Sevren was more important to him than anything about her. Apart from that she needed to follow his orders. And she would have. For Sevren’s sake.

But unfortunately Sevren was not to a l l o w for that to happen. He made it clear, and Nunnally was sure he was serious. She knew him (well?). He was her friend. Perhaps even more. But it wasn’t important for now.

��I am no god… I am no threat…” – it seemed Vasha wasn’t even listening; Nunnally felt invisible in that very moment. Again her fate and her future, was not in her hands, and the person she cared for (loved) was threatened because of her.

“What shall I do…what shall I do…” – she desperately whispered to herself as Vasha and Sevren continued their debate.

“Please…” – she begged; but even for her it wasn’t clear, who she was begging. And she was understanding less and less from their conversation. They had secrets; secrets that Nunnally didn’t even want to be revealed to her.

And finally, there came the moment that there was no more room for words. And it all had happened faster than Nunnally could comprehend. She found herself being tugged by Sevren, who she followed without questioning (she trusted him), and with Vasha dropping the gun…and undergoing some sort of transformation…

…but Nunnally knew better than to ask questions then.

---

“Sevren…” – she hugged him, when they were finally safe – “I…I was missing you…how have you been doing…?” – she eagerly pressed herself towards much higher man….but her joy was soon interrupted, when she had recalled the events from just a few moments ago…

“That man…Vasha…will he be all right…?” – it was ridiculous what she was asking about, but, somehow, she was aware Sevren had had no intention to hurt him. Or did she get it all wrong?

“Can you tell me… Who was he? And what did he wat from me…?”

And then she remembered that telling her that might put Sevren in danger.

“But of course don’t tell me anything…that can bring any harm on you…” – she was used to not knowing. Perhaps she didn’t even care any more.

"They're humans who don't hide the fact they're monsters. You have some of it right. A group who is tired of humanity being overshadowed by the gods. They think themselves a way for humans to stand up to the otherworldly, like yourself." Vasha's eyes never left her, as if ignoring that Sevren was even there.

"And you, Va--" Sevren words cut off as Vasha once again lifted his gun towards him.

"Shut. Your. Mouth," Vasha warned.

"You can't die, fine. You know this gun can just hurt you, again, and again, until I'm satisfied... And I'm having a very bad day, you rotten serpent."

Sevren clenched his teeth, eyes narrowing into snake like slits.

"I see."

Vasha is probably reacting to the power within Nunnally, sparking the more angel side of him, and placing him in a so called 'bad mood'. As much as Sevren wants to explain that to her, he can't exactly do it right in front of him. Vasha is already not the nicest of people, without such on top making him worse.

"They wouldn't use it for the world. In the end, we all have to make a choice which side we are on." Vasha continues.

The angel's expression softens. In part because of her words, another due to her willingness to come along without the need to fight.

"Vasha, she isn't what you think, and you know that," Sevren spoke up.

He then turned to her, the snake's own stern features shifting to a smile in her direction instead.

"You know, I'd never allow them to take you away. Even if it's the sand's will. It's not about your power getting into their hands. As awful as that would be, I'm more worried about you. Because even though many may see what you're hiding, I just see you."

Sevren's grasp tightens on her hand.

"You need to trust her, Vasha. The sands will flow towards an awful timeline if you do not listen to us. They can't have her. I won't allow it. You're either on their side, or ours."

He said so himself, they all have to make a choice. As for Sevren, he's raising a dagger... One he has enchanted with angel feathers, though he hopes he won't need to resort to his plan.

"If... something does happen. I will stop it," Sevren stressed, confirming suspicions. "I'll save us all, I always do. Her included."

[ I really don't want to fight an angel. Most likely, we'll need to escape.]

"It's a shame, really, I can't let you leave with someone so dangerous. And if you're going to spill information, then... I suppose I can't let you escape either, serpent," Vasha continued, stepping towards them.

"A shame indeed. I have no choice, then," Sevren sighed.

Sevren lifted the dagger, runic enchantments springing to life... Resonating with Vasha's angel blood. Vasha recoils, his gun falling to the ground as he holds himself in pain, light emitting from his back as he attempts to prevent his wings from forming.

"I've displaced his power. We need to use this chance to run, now," Sevren urges, tugging her along.

[lured-into-wonderland]

The way Ponsol talked about ‘tradition’ made Nunnally think that his experience with it wasn’t that far away from her own. But of course, she was not to ask. Although by then Nunnally was sure that both - him and her - didn’t actually live the lives they would have chosen, if they had been free to do so. Surely, they were rich, their lives were comfortable, although they were paying a high price for it. Though most wouldn’t believe it, so Nunnally had stopped sharing that she would prefer something else in life. Perhaps not to be someone else, but just live her life as she wanted to.

She nodded, when Ponsol explained how his education looked like. Again assuming there must have been a strong tension between his parents and his grandfather. It seemed that his grandfather had a great influence over his life (an an influence that Ponsol didn't appreciate).

And again that was surprisingly similar to her own family. Her maternal grandmother was a strong woman, who (what Nunnally was not aware of) had destroyed her own daughter (and Nunnally’s mother) in the name of her own excessive ambitions. Yes, she was the one making Nunnally’s life harder, but Nunnally had much more strength than she had expected. In a way she had been also protected by her father’s wish to have an almost total control over firstly the girl, and now a young woman. Though Nunnally wasn’t (or didn’t want to be) aware of that game. She didn't want to play it either (though unwillingly she did anyway).

“Well, of course…” – she laughed; she didn’t mind losing in that competition – “But I am sure that even you will have to acknowledge my skills…” – it wasn’t that she was completely unconfident. Her confidence was a complicated issue that sometimes was a mystery even to Nunnally herself.

“Well, a restaurant it is then….” – she laughed again – “Unless you’d like me to cook, but I warn you that wouldn’t be a reasonable choice.”

“I cannot really cook…” – she laughed again; not at all ashamed of this inability – “They tried to teach us something back then at school, but I guess I just don’t have the right attitude for that… I’ve never learnt…”

“Perhaps if I have anyone to cook for…” – she started – “I am sorry…” – now out of sudden an embarrassment and  some sort of anxiety started to take over her thoughts; Ponsol wouldn’t think she had meant him, would he? – “Well, anyway, it doesn’t seem I will have any incentive to learn anytime soon.”

“So, what restaurant is it going to be? My choice or your choice?” – probably his, but Nunnally was okay with it. She liked spending time with Ponsol. She wondered why they had not met at any social events before. But rather brought together by pure lack.

[✧･ﾟ *♚*･ﾟ✧ ]

“It depends on how you look at things. Some traditions are good while some others aren’t.”

You hear of many toxic values that exist in other nations perpetuated by antiquity of ‘tradition.’ He would admit that he enjoyed learning about the different cultures of his lineage, there were some things that he didn’t favor, such as the forced respect for one’s elders. The expectation of always listening to the elders with respect, even when being chastised and demeaned.

“No, I attended public or private schools in the area for most of my schooling, it was what my parents wanted for us. Sending us off internationally would’ve made it all the easier for our grandfather to get a hold of us.”  

His torment would’ve begun earlier had he been sent off internationally, as it was some kind of agreement his parents had with his grandfather. It was to allow the two brothers to enjoy a somewhat normal life to explore their options before they would have to make their choice on what to make of their future. Well, one of them had the choice.

“I’ll take that as you conceding your defeat to me then.”

A light hearted joke, really. He wasn’t really serious about putting her to the test and making a competition of sorts out of it, but seeing her take his comment seriously, he played along in kind.

“You can join me at a restaurant or otherwise, one of us will be cooking- and it won’t be me.”

Ponsol doesn’t cook, and he’d mentioned that at one point. He didn’t have the skill nor the patience for it. His brother, on the other hand, did. Anyone who was invited over to try Ponsol’s cooking had to understand that their very lives were at stake- it was the common knowledge about his skills (or lack thereof) in cooking. If the cooking didn’t require him using heated elements like an oven or a stovetop, he could be trusted.

Basically, it was limited to sandwiches, salads, or making rice with a rice cooker. That, he could handle. He could also cut and peel fruits, but that shouldn’t count as cooking.

[lured-into-wonderland]

Continued from [here] with @iwasprogrammedtolove

HE WAS...RUDE.

Yes, Nunnally had been the one to bump into him, but wasn’t it just basic decency to accept an apology with at least some understanding? Perhaps social norms weren’t on her side, yet courtesy should have been on his.

It was only in that very moment, when Nunnally realized it was mostly her coat that had taken the brunt of their unexpected collision. As she tried to brush it clean, doing what little she could, she was still offering her apologies. But he cut her off, almost mid-sentence. Causing her embarrassment only to increase.

But also her annoyance?

( “Apologies being a sign of weakness…?”); she pondered his words for longer than neccessary, but stopped without voicing any opposition. Nunnally was used to obey authorities; but why did she suddenly considered him to be an authority…? 

Well, it was high time to simply walk away. Even though she had, indeed, wanted to talk with him before their collision happened. Their encounter yet another reminder that one should be careful with what they’re wishing for.

His next words froze her in her tracks, though.

-- ( “Protesters! Of course! That explains her odd feelings from just a few moments ago…” ) --

“Then you must be…” – she started, but Nunnally didn’t allow herself to finish the sentence. It would probably only bring more of his sharp remarks onto her.

“The latter.” – Nunnally decided to reply to his question, as if he really awaited her answer. She spoke in a dry, matter-of-fact tone, fully aware he couldn’t care less.

But even if she had tried, it didn’t help you. Another snarky (or one could say passive-aggressive) comment was thrown at her. One too many? She’d long learned to obey her father, even if it meant silencing her own opinions and wishes, but it didn’t mean she was not aware of her own worth.

Always the best. The second place was never an option for…him. And then it had become not an option for her as well.

“Something intelligent?” – she asked; finally some stronger emotions audible in her voice – “Like that you’re barely breathing? It’s clear you’re not getting enough…air.”

Well, that wasn’t really intelligent. More stating the obvious.

“I can help.” – she added in a softer voice – “May I?”

“Nunnally Ayvalles.” – she introduced herself. It was only fair as she knew who he was as he didn’t. Not that he cared. But he might have heard about her father. Maybe that would be an argument for him that she was capable of helping.

[lured-into-wonderland]

So, she insisted to call her a lady. But that was all right. Nunnally was not to protest for the second time. It didn’t change much. Of who they both were.

“Duty…” – while Nunnally was aware her words might have come as a mockery towards the Lady Knight, it was not her intention – “Duty…”

“Duty is usually the shield that those, who have nothing more to love, hide behind. Don’t go that way, My Noble Lady Knight.” – Nunnally was worried; despite who she was (and who Adelheid was), she wished her well. She knew someone like her. Long time ago. She still missed him.

So, Adelheid suggested Nunnally needed protection, but didn’t want it. But it wasn’t like that at all. She wanted protection. Love. Devotion. From a right person. And Adelheid wasn't THAT VERY PERSON. Wasn't she aware of that?

“Do you know that with every beast you unfairly slay, there are certain beings…” – me included – “…that becomes stronger and stronger… As the world needs to remain in balance...”

“You called certain actions unjust, but they are just the way of life. You wouldn’t call a wolf cruel only because it feasts on a deer…” – yes, Nunnally could expect what arguments would be put forward, but she still wanted to hear them directly from the Lady Knight’s mouth  – “Please don’t think I am trying to lecture you…it’s more that I am trying to understand…”

Nunnally was looking at the beast that was now slowly disappearing. Turning into the mist, into the particles of powers that was swiftly absorbed by Nunnally's own demon “self”. Was Adeleheid aware of that? Maybe. But it didn’t change anything for either of them.

“I once loved a knight. He was like you.” – Nunnally's curse was to last; reborn again and again, if needed. Suffer? But was that really suffering – “Or perhaps just similar.” – her lips formed a smile. Her beautiful face brightened as she had remembered time they had spent together – “He was noble. He was gentle. He was caring. But he couldn’t love…”

“Or perhaps he just couldn’t love the way I needed to be loved…to be saved.” – why was she even telling her that story?

“But he also put his duty over anything else…” – over me – “Sometimes, when one wants to slay the monsters, one create them… Have you ever thought about that Lady Adelheid?”

“Fear and darkness you say…” – she was worshipped and yet she was fear and darkness – “And what if that is what they want? Why to protect them from their needs and desires…?”

“Because you know better…?”

“I am not free, Lady Adelheid…”

“And I will not until I find him again…” – and I will achieve that no matter if I have to burn the world for it.

“Would you like to free me though from my little cage here and now?”  

[lured-into-wonderland]

[lured-into-wonderland]

[lured-into-wonderland]

“It will not make me feel any better. Taking it on you…”

“You were nothing but understanding and kind to me since…since the decision was announced.” – why did she phrase it in such a way? Why shouldn’t she simply call it ‘engagement’? Or future marriage? Was it because it was still hard to accept that it was her new reality? But was it about him? Nunnally wasn’t sure. Would she feel better if he were of higher status? Or if she were to marry someone else?

She would like to reply ‘no’; but if she were completely honest with herself, she didn’t know. And there was no point to even trying to figure it now. It could only make things worse between them. Still, it wasn’t that Nunnally wanted to reject Rikuto. They were to be joined together, and they would have to live together till their end. And Nunnally didn’t like the idea that there would only be reluctance between them. Unspoken  grudges.

She didn’t know what she was thinking (or expecting), when her hand reached towards him. But he reciprocated the gesture. Did he miss (some) affection as much as she did? Her pretty head made an abrupt move, and Nunnally’s blue eyes were looking at him. A mixture of feelings in them. Surprise? Relief? Kindness?

“Rikuto…” – her lips whispered his name; with the owner of these lips partially unaware of the happening. She didn’t even know why. Why she suddenly felt an urge to say his name? Her hand gently tightening the grip…

-- ( “Does it bother you?” That I’m of a lover status?” ) --

Her own thoughts from just a few moments ago mirrored in this question of his. Did it bother her? Certainly it didn’t make the things easier for her.

“I…I don’t know.” – she should have probably thought of a better lie; but somehow Nunnally thought Rikuto would consider the worst truth better than the polite lies everyone around was giving.

“I…I apologize…I am tired of lies…” – would he understand what she meant? Nunnally hoped so, but if not asked she was not to dwell on it.

“Though I hope we can still make it…work?” – her blue eyes were now pleading him silently.

An owlish, confused blink and a nonchalant shrug as if he wasn't suggesting something ridiculous. Why? Well, that was the million dollar question in this moment, now wasn't it. "Might make you feel a little better? Never hurts to let off some steam when something bothers you." After all, he'd heard much worse than whatever insults or harsh words she could hurl his way his entire life. "And something tells me you're not the sparring type."

Movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention and, without looking down, he met her halfway. Though he couldn't do much when it came to comforting her, he could at least do this -- easily taking her hand into his own. It admittedly came as a bit of a surprise, seeing as how he didn't think she wanted him to touch her. Since she was initiating the contact, he saw it fit to reciprocate.

Ah... His status. So that's what this was all about. It seemed that no amount of recognition in battle or being the top knight in his kingdom's armed forces would change that. He may be the bastard son of a Duke but, without his father's family name or recognition, he would still be that little orphan boy from Saint Liliana's.

He wanted to say that it didn't bother him the way people spoke or the things that they said, but that'd be a lie. It did bother him a little. No matter how hard he fought to be accepted by them, it seemed it was all for naught. Even if he were to be adopted into another noble's household or earned a title for himself, those who were born into money and power would never recognize him as one of them.

"Does it bother you? That I'm of lower status?"

[lured-into-wonderland]

Her internal struggle between what she believed was proper and what she wanted to do was clearly visible on her pretty face. But after a few moments of hesitation, Nunnally gave up, and started to eat. She was hungry, and she couldn’t deny the food smelled delicious.

“So, what’s a knight like you doing in the kitchen? Did the castle run out of servants, or are you just branching out?” – Nunnally decided to change the topic of the conversation from herself to this man; whoever he was. You wouldn’t find anyone important down there (she thought to herself; overlooking the fact that she was here as well. And, indeed, Nunnally considered herself important).

It didn’t work quite as she expected as he teased her back. Nunnally’s eyes narrowed (slightly); it was clear she was not used to such a treatment.

“Are you trying to frighten me with ghosts and faes?” – and that feeling of disappointment has only increased with his next sentence – “I am not a little…girl!”

“And not so defenseless as I might seem…”

“Though are you perhaps offering to become my knight?” – she inquired visibly enjoying the food; she looked at him. Perhaps he would not make such a bad knight…!?

Kay hummed at the partial answer, clearly not quite believing it but not pressing further either. He gestured lazily at the plate still between them to answer if his offer was still open. Her saying that she was new to the castle made sense though, any man, woman or child who had been here long enough would at least know him by sight.

"Camelot's pretty safe and all, what with this being where the Round Table Knights gather, but you still shouldn't be wandering about alone after dark." It was both an acknowledgment that she didn't meet trouble yet and a fatherly scolding that she wasn't prepared if trouble came. "There's ghosts and fae that wander these halls, and come night there's not many of us left awake to scold them for their pranks." He took another bite from his skewer, giving her time to think about that before adding lightly. "And I bet they'd find an innocent little girl like you to be a perfect target too."

[lured-into-wonderland]

“Oh, my bad… Where should I order the coffee then, if not in a bar?” – Nunnally was annoyed enough not to notice that her reply was rather rude – “And if I asked for Irish coffee? Or Espresso Martini?” – not that she really liked these drinks, but both of them needed coffee… Though perhaps she should have asked for the last one?

Before she could take any decision (to change her order or not), still complaining, he brought her oh-so-much-desired drink.

“Thanks…” – Nunnally said; her voice suddenly calm and soft; she took a sip. It was strong, perhaps too strong for her liking, but this was what she needed right now – “It’s just fine… I like the taste...” – she assured him. She was not going to cause any more troubles now.

“Care to join me? You’ve said you closing anyway…”

“I’ll buy you a drink…” – surely, she didn't need to, but it sounded fun…?

⋄ ⋮ ― Her dismissive wave makes a vein pop in his neck, but the drink choice drives the nail further.

❝ Hey, why did you come to a bar and order coffee? You're lucky I have some in the pantry, or else you'd have gotten none. ❞

The shakiness in his tone stems from sheer disbelief but still, he goes back to his spot to make a hot cup of coffee for her— extra spoons of powder to overwhelm the balance of water, she did say she wanted it extra strong. He sets it down gently on the table for her after.

❝ Here, let me know if it isn't strong enough. ❞

[lured-into-wonderland]

“You’re not alone then.” – she suddenly hissed, but still in a defensive tone. Would anyone ever treat her as her very own being without her father’s shadow always behind her? Daughter of Mr. Ayvalles. Never Nunnally. Damn it! She needed to smoke; he should have offered her a cigarette. Though – as usual – she was quick to apologize. This battle was already lost; and it wasn’t reasonable to continue it.

“Isn’t that what you wanted all along?” – Nunnally replied with a question to his question of why she was apologizing. She was surprised, when his had reached to touch her head; un unexpected touch, but less unwelcomed than she would have anticipated. Jade Leech was not that much older than her; or at least that was what Nunnally had heard. He looked young, but his actions… They were different. And she could not really settle on "how" and "why".

His last sentence made her blue eyes widely open in a surprise; that was probably the last thing she had expected after their short encounter: --

“Why? Why would you do that at all?” – to be on good terms with her father? Or to use her against her father? Two motifs that people approaching her had. And did Mr. Jade Leech expect she’d decline… Probably.

“But are you prepared to really do so if I agree?” – she shrugged – “I think I can exercise my rights…the problem is not in making demands and having them fulfilled…”

“…it’s rather about the rights I have… But you have already figured out that much, Mr. Leech?”

"In a way... yes I do." His words came out smooth and calm, but it hadn't tried to be cruel. He chooses his tone well, perhaps to gain the woman's good graces and make her feel as if she owes him something after this. The small, defeated look in her eyes made him felt as thought he might have succeeded. If Jade had to be honest with himself, it had been easier than he originally anticipated.

Nunnally's father, however, was a different beast altogether. He doubts Nunnally had much use against him, when the man clearly did not even trust his own daughter. He sees it through their interactions: negligence was a factor, as well as the clear absolute obedience. Jade would tread carefully with her father. Initially he thought of that as a weakness, but it seemed to be something that earns him recognition with his daughter.

"Why are you apologizing?" He counters, hesitantly but surely reaches out with a hand to sooth the back of her head down to her hair. His face is a mask of politeness and authenticity, when neither were traits Jade generously offers everyone. Comfort, he realizes, is difficult to come by. Comfort alone had people who were desperate scrambling for it. She seems emotionally vulnerable, something undeniably surprised him. "If you are your father's daughter you should learn to make demands and exercise your rights. I could teach you, if you want."

[lured-into-wonderland]

She was reading, when he entered the room. She would have preferred they met in a different way. In a way that would have allowed her to greet him properly, but no-one had informed Nunnally about his arrival. Probably not seeing his status high enough to interrupt whatever she was doing.

That wasn’t an unusual occurrence for Nunnally; always protected, or ‘caged’ as she preferred to call it herself. And it just happened that his words called her back to reality from the pages of a book written a long ago; guiding her through the unknown land. It was almost terrifying that the world from the book of the novel she was reading was not that different from their world…now… Since the tree had emerged…

Though Nunnally was still excited about her journey from New England to New Red Grave City. A rare opportunity, when it was necessary for her to leave. If she had a brother, she would have never been allowed to leave the safety of her chambers until her wedding day…but for better or worse she did not have one. A single child. A weak girl.

But Nunnally was aware she was precious, so all necessary means would be in place to guarantee her safety. Although they say with demons, they was never a certainty. And they were probably right. 

“I am. And it’s a pleasure to meet you Sir Vergil.” – Nunnally stood up, and as soon as the princess did that, she offered him a small curtsy. He looked intimidating; with that sword and with his hand on it – “I trust you will.” – Nunnally saw it necessary to confirm her feelings.

“I was just about to be served a small afternoon snack. Unfortunately, I haven't been told you were on your way here.” – her voice was soft and clear, perhaps a bit ashamed that Vergil had found her so unprepared – “Would you like to join me?” – she invited him – with a gesture – to sit down – “Or perhaps are we in such a hurry that we should leave immediately?” – a pause – “I can be ready rather quick, if needed, but I would rather assume we will spend some time together before the journey.”

A pause. Again.

“I was hoping you might want to brief me about it. I’ve…I’ve been given no details…”

@lured-into-wonderland || Short starter call

In this broken and desolate world, someone needed to take control of the world since all government facilities were destroyed, along with the emergence of the tree. With no order, and the rest of the world too dangerous to roam outside of survivor camps, everyone else was afraid to go beyond the safety of their camp's walls, precisely why everyone relied on Devil Hunters were the only hope, they were what was going to helo gradually return to normal, killing demon after demon until the remaining demons that fled deep into the human world after the fall of the demon tree were completely eradicated. The efforts of the Devil Hunters had finally begun to show.

About twenty percent of the world had managed to be cleared of any demon threat, which led to cities being rebuilt, allowing some people in the world to get the chance to return to normal--or at least as close to normal as they could get in these past few years after the falling of the demon tree. Today's mission was a very important one, Vergil had been personally selected by the client for this particular job, and it was a special one. The half-devil in midnight blue was tasked with protecting the daughter of someone very important, unfortunately, that was all the details he'd been given. His job was to safely escort her from New England all the way to New Red Grave City.

Vergil made his way there via portal slicing; his instructions were to meet up with the assistant who would guide him to the person that Vergil was going to escort. From there, he learned he would be protecting a young woman named Lady Nunnally. After being given clearance, he was taken to meet her, the assistant promptly leaving them alone once Vergil was brought to the carriage she'd be traveling in; it's there that he finally met her. A beautiful young woman with blonde hair

[{ 🗡️ }] - "You must be Lady Nunnally. I'm Vergil Nightingale. I'll be your escort for today." He introduced, sword in its sheath pressed to the ground like a cane, as his fingeless, gloved hands rested along the handle.

[{ 🗡️ }] - "We have a long trip ahead of us, rest assured, with me, I will guarantee you're safety."

[lured-into-wonderland]

Scars on Luna's hands must have brought some distant memories. Which were not pleasant at all. That was, what the princess had concluded looking at her new hunting instructor. And 'not pleasant' was probably a large understatement. Nunnally could see something in Luna’s eyes that hinted her (perhaps incorrectly) that she was worried, or perhaps even ashamed, of how her hands looked. Though Nunnally kept all her thoughts to herself; as what was there to say?

“Thank you.” – Nunnally said; putting on the gloves – “And I will not forget mine next time.” – though it was an odd feeling, almost intimate, wearing someone else’s gloves. They were too big for the princess, and Nunnally felt oddly warm in them. Although it was not possible that they had kept the warmth of Luna’s hands for so long.

The pat did not go unnoticed (breaking an etiquette, but she did like it), but was met with no reaction. Nunnally simply followed.

“I guess you have taught many…young ladies before…” – the princess inquired curiously – “Were you ever assigned to train young lords?” – unlikely, but given how good Luna seemed to be… If she did, Nunnally wanted to be treated as harsh as them; she wanted to be the best. Not just as "a woman" but in more general terms.

Hurrying after Luna (it was still difficult to keep up because of the damn shoes!), they had reached the vegetable garden. Empty; they had luck! And Nunnally was pretty curious to see how pumpkins would explode. But just as they were supposed to start a-much-too-familiar-voice reached them from behind the hedge that was dividing the vegetable garden from flower garden, and then the actual manor grounds.

“Your Highness…what are you doing here…!? And your dress…it’s totally ruined… It may impair your health…” – the chief maid continued her complaints unaware or unbothered by the princess’s embarrassment.

“I am having my hunting classes…” – Nunnally muttered in a defensive voice, but it was clear she was to give up.

“It seems it will be tea first after all, Miss Basquerville.” – she addressed Luna; seemingly ignoring the maid – “Though if you insist, let me tell you’ve earned it well.” – they would be rumours across the castle grounds. The rumours Nunnally would like.

A noble, showing concern for someone below her rank? Now that was unusual from her experience. Unusual, but not unheard of. Perhaps even flattering given the surmountable distance between where they stood on the social ladder, turning over her hand and examining the full extent of her scars, as if the notion had only just occurred to her.

"... Don't worry about me, my lady." She acquiesced, letting out a short, exasperated sigh before dropping her hand down to her side. Seeing the state of her hands, no doubt it stirred some worry over what had caused so many burns, carved deep into her flesh. But she had surrendered her hands to the fire long ago, accepting it as a risk and an occupational hazard.

... Even then, she couldn't help the shame she felt in looking at them, the grotesque, unsightly things her hands had become, drowning in ash. She was no longer noble, not in standing; only in service to those around her.

"... Your safety is more important." She smiled, the pull on her lips feeling rather strained, the upturned corners of her mouth not quite reaching her eyes.

"Just remember to bring your own gloves tomorrow. I won't be lending them out a second time." She huffed, half-annoyed, half-chuckling once she noticed how quickly the princess was able to tie up her skirt. Maybe she was more rebellious than she initially gave her credit for, giving her a pat on the shoulder as she passed her by and began walking towards the vegetable garden.

"The vegetable garden is a fine choice. So long as the groundskeeper doesn't mind some of his crops missing. Gourds or pumpkins would make for suitable targets... and watching them explode is half the fun.

... Of course. I would be honored to join you for tea. But let's do what we can to earn it first."

[lured-into-wonderland]

She laughs, a warm, lilting sound that wraps around her husband; an unspoken invitation to share in her unexpected joy. Her arms wrapping around Hades; her head placed on his shoulder.

“I’ve changed in so many ways… and sometimes I can’t help but wonder how you ever managed to love who I was before.”

“Not to mention my mother…” -- they are not without their issues, but Persephone is aware they are lucky. Perhaps the best marriage between their peers. Her head still on his shoulder – “I am afraid she still does and that’s not going to change…”

There’s not much regret in her voice; things are as they are, and she simply needs to accept it. But his reply pours hope into her heart that something still can be done about it.

“Lord Erebus…” – Persephone whispers as her hands (unconsciously) starts playing with Hades’s hair – “I am glad I’ve eaten that food…” - a comment seemingly out of nowhere...

“Now there…” – she laughs again – “Not to say we’re not going to pay Lord Erebus the visit…”

“But now…now I would like to spend the rest of the days with my husband…”

“No excuses…” – she warns – “I know you are a busy man…but today…” – she pauses – “…today work needs to wait…”

☠─ ━αɩժοɴеоႽ A small hum came from him in thought, it is true that the rule is that she spends two-thirds of the year above and the rest of it here; however, every time she does, he misses her terribly and vice verse, but then again it was all because Demeter refused to let Persephone go when he stole her away.

❝You want a way to overrule the rule of your visiting the mortal realm, and here is what you're thinking of? Over the years we've spent together, you have grown into a fine queen to rule here; however, I feel that your mother still see's you as a young sappling. ❞

If there was a way that he could convince Zeus to overturn that decision, then that would be doable, but Zeus is Zeus, and no one can argue with them.

❝Whoever eats the food of the underworld is forever bound by it, that law was here long before I came here. A visit to Lord Erebus may help in this situation, there. ❞

[lured-into-wonderland]

So, he wasn’t a gambler. He didn’t like taking risks. Nunnally could perhaps understand that. But being born "a woman" in the land like hers, and worse of all, the king’s only offspring made almost her every step a calculated risk that she was taking. Ensuring that the so-desired-crown would not slip out of her hands to any of her male relatives. Though even if she tried to explain all that to her fiancé, who she was, and why she’d risk it all and lose (rather than not try at all), Nunnally was almost certain he would not understand. So, she wasn’t to try.

Though she regretted that the conversation was becoming more and more personal. That wasn’t her wish at all. But perhaps what was even more disturbing, was his hint that the kingdom was not in a particularly good condition. ( "Give their children better foundations than he had received" ); did she get the meaning of this sentence right?

Fighting her desire to follow on that topic, Nunnally forced herself to focus on Hibiya’s next words. She had already felt them coming, so she could welcome his question with a calm face; not as a challenge of her views of how to rule. But even though she had expected Hibiya to approach her directly (a sign of trust or bad manners?), Nunnally couldn’t find a right reply for him. It took her a longer while before she spoke again: --

“No, I don’t Hibiya.” – and it wasn’t even that she was lying; if he wanted an honest reply, she would give it to him – “I was only suggesting that tyranny is an option.” – a pause.

“And sometimes the best option.”

Another pause.

“But I would be a naïve girl rather than a queen to be if I dared to claim it’s the best option for us. Or any at all.” – perhaps the last sentence was added to reassure her fiancé. Nunnally wasn’t sure herself – “I don’t know enough. Don’t understand you…and this kingdom enough…” – she looked away from him.

“But I wasn’t aware we were discussing us. I was under the impression it was a more general conversation…”

“A philosophical debate I dare to say.”

There's a small turn of his head, a tilt to the side as thoughts took over for a moment, as Nunnally spoke more on the sheep and lions. He wasn't sure if he agreed and wished to drop the idioms completely, but Hibiya held his tongue for the time being to move on to more important matters.

While the thought was alluring, it wasn't difficult for the stubborn boy to dismiss the temptation. "That's a hell of a risk just for a possibility that doesn't need to be gambled on. Not to mention pitting conflicting stories against each other, mine versus their parents." Hibiya paused for a beat, seemingly considering the idea. "It would take multiple generations for their stories to possibly be lost, and by then, who knows if my great-grandchildren even support what I might have done."

Eyes well distracted by her small movements, "I don't want to be a reformer, I want to set my children up for success. Give them a better foundation than I have to build off of." Admitted in a quiet moment of terror over the weight of what she appeared to want out of Hibiya.

He no longer cared for convincing her to see his side of things, but better understanding Nunnally's. Even so, it was only to gauge just how different their goals and idea really were - how difficult this political marriage was about to be. "I can't help but think you feel as if tyranny is the better option." A proposal that made his mouth taste like mud. The proposal was alarming coming from her. Nunnally felt level-headed at most times, so despite her flaws, it was too easy to trust her.

[lured-into-wonderland]

The party was vibrant. As usual though. It wasn’t that Nunnally was bored, but she wasn’t enjoying herself, either. Her father had insisted she attended; and so she did follow his wishes. As always. Nunnally was aware he was not her father by blood, but she had always treated him like that, and he had always refused to discuss how she had ended up with him. Not that she remembered anything but small flashes from the past, which by no means were pleasant. So, she just accepted that she was not to know.

Sipping slowly on her drink, she looked around. Building the strength for some more chit-chats and superficial conversations. It was already late, and soon it would be just the right moment to leave the party. It was then, when her blue eyes (accidently) landed on one of the human pets, who was brought for today's entertainment. What was his name? Till…? Yes, it was Till. He was the one with a very beautiful voice. Perhaps she could ask him to sing to her again…?

Though that didn’t sit quite well with Nunnally.

“I’ve heard your singing before…” – she approached him with a soft smile on her lips; she was aware he couldn’t refuse to talk to her, but then again it just didn’t seem right – “You’re very talented.” – which as well might be a curse in this society – “Do you also play any music instrument?” – she suddenly felt embarrassed. But why…?

“It’s a lovely party…” – though probably not for him…

a plotted starter with @eliestaru

[lured-into-wonderland]

She didn’t need to turn around to recall the necklace. So, Nunnally simply nodded: --

“It’s excessive.” – she said; but as Eun went on, her blue eyes widened slightly in disbelief. And by the time his last words left his lips, they were gleaming with amusement, even delight.

“I’m sure she has no idea…” – Nunnally said smiling – “And just what do you think would happen if someone told her?” – she wasn’t really suggesting it; at least, not out loud. Though, if she were honest, she wouldn’t mind being the one to tell her. Nunnally didn’t care much for the lady in question, or her smug husband. Stirring the pot a little could be… entertaining.

But did she trust his judgment enough to play along?

She moved closer, narrowing the space between them, and then leaned in to whisper, her voice low and conspiratorial: --

 “I wonder if the missing diamonds have been given to his mistress…”

“Honestly, I'm not sure what's more humiliating…" – she continued – “…the fact that her husband is having an affair, or that he gave her... a fake necklace.”

“I can’t be sure…” – Nunnally continued in a light voice – “They say it’s either the judge’s new assistant, or some ballet dancer.”

“I think the first would be funnier, though. Imagine him introducing them to each other…”

No, she had no qualms about sharing these rumours; it was normal in their world. Others were probably already gossiping about them.

Nunnally laughed as Eun described the parties, but she couldn’t agree more. And she couldn’t help noticing how his gaze was searching for his father. Their lives were so similar. She couldn’t even remember how many times she had done the same herself. Though not today; today her father had already left. She nodded again to show him support: --

“And yet, there’s no way I could refuse to attend. I’ll be there.” – Nunnally said, a soft note of resignation in her voice.

“I didn’t know you had a dog…” – and invitation to share more, though if he chose to keep it personal, that was all right too.

"I saw. Rather tacky, if I may voice my opinion," Eun hummed, still rocking on the chair, "the colors of the jewelry doesn't match her outfit, and I think…" he glanced over to their current topic of conversation, watching the lady laugh at some joke, the jewerly glittering and sparkling in the light that touched it. Eun's lips curved into a smile, his elbow coming to rest on the table as he props his chin on his hand once the chair is back on four steady feet. "…I'm 95% sure… the diamonds are fake. Perhaps not all, but a few of them for sure."

Though the continuation to their little gossip moment had him quickly turn his attention to Nunnaly again. "For real? With who??" Eun had completely missed out on that, having been more amused about the fact that the husband was involved in an affair, but that they both were? His eyes sparkle. Man, his evening just got better!

If Nunnaly is reluctant to say who could possibly be sweeping the feet from under the Judge's missus, he's gonna take it upon himself and figure it out on his own. At least it'd give him something to do. "I'm unsure still," lips purse into a pout as he thinks, "I had plans to spend time with my dog, but if Father says the party is more important, then I'll have to reschedule…" Eun clicks his tongue annoyed. His gaze lands on his Father at the other side of the room, talking with what looks to be some of his business friends. Eun had met them a few times. Boring people. Old school.

"…Most of these parties are pointless to begin with," he agrees easily, attention turning back to Nunnaly. "Mere posturing and flaunting of assets… competing on who has the deepest pockets…" Perhaps, as part of the younger generations, this sort just didn't appeal to him any more than it did Nunnaly. "I assume you're going to attend?"

[lured-into-wonderland]

She laughs. Her long blond hair dances around her shoulders, making her especially beautiful tonight. Her blue dress sways, almost playfully, as the gentle, warm wind wraps around her. She laughs again, tilting her head to the side. Is it because someone just said something funny?

No, she doesn’t know them. It’s just a small talk, meaningless chatter; but she’s enjoying it immensely. Nights like this, where she allows herself for that little freedom, are rare. It's a light scene: a happy, fair-haired girl in a vibrant city. Almost unreal. Like a picture from a book: one destined to be torn by the inevitable.

And then it happens. First, faintly… then stronger. A creeping anxiety begins to settle in her. Why? Where is it coming from? Nunnally doesn’t know. She can’t explain it. But one thing she’s sure of: she’s being watched.

By whom?

By him?

Suddenly uneasy, Nunnally awkwardly ends the conversation. The picture-book moment dissolves. She walks toward the corner; where He stands. She doesn’t know how she knows; it’s not logic, not even intuition. But something pulls her there. Something leads her, until she finally sees, whose eyes have been fixed on her so intently.

“I…” – she stammers, like a child caught stealing cookies –  “W-why didn’t you join us?”

“I... I was missing you…”

The euphoria of yesterday's hunt sizzles still in his veins, neon-lit streets still whisper of its hint and yet, he slips through them without disturbing the flow, like a shadow nestling within cracks  — a rule of the natural order, albeit surely denied by life. Laughter and cries, joy and grief, all blend into a known timbre: a blanc noise that accompanies his each step towards quieter corners. Out of this mayhem, of this fluttering symphonies though, one voice captures his senses in an instant. One swift motion of the head and there she is, chatting the night away with whoever that is. To say hi or not to say anything... Somehow the collector finds amusement twitching at the corners of his lips, dictating his steps even as he quietly settles against the cool wall in the corner; nay far from the two. ❝ . . . ❞ In the end, his quiet lingers, just like his observant gaze on her. How long till her instincts kick in? / starter call , @lured-into-wonderland