#✎ . . . 「 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙉𝙊𝙑𝙀𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏 」 ➠ ❝ Orpheus ❞

[oletus-manors-log]

Hey! I just wanted to say I love your work and your recent Orpheus drabble was super good! I was wondering if you could do a short story about Orpheus confessing to the survivor!reader? (GN) I understand that short story’s might take longer then headcanons and dabbles, so please take as much time as you need! Thanks again 🫶

OBSERVER'S NOTE :

“ Hello, and thank you so much for the compliment for my recent work on Orpheus! As for the confession, I believe I can make it work with the headcannons I have listed in the past.

I'm not too sure if there's anything else you'd like for me to add with the story, so I decided to make it happen in a... Special match. Although it can be a terrible place to confess... Well, sometimes it can work out in your favor. ”

Golden Hour

The match, needless to say, was a mess.

Orpheus couldn't tell whether he regretted having to come in because he's up against himself (or, really, what he sees himself as), or the fact that he's seeing the slow descent of the match after the first 60 second chair.

As he saw the raven bird chase after the enchantress and with the journalist on her second chair, he stuck to decoding in wedding hall. The pallets were thrown in advance by him, so it would make things easier.

Since the progress wasn't done before he arrived, he had done quick work on decoding it. Although, he didn't seem to notice when someone else joined him during the halfway mark of the cipher, one cipher actually done and Alice rescued off of it.

"Seems like you're struggling over there, aren't you?"

He flinched and looked over towards the speaker, noticing that it was Alice. Ah, she was patched up— good, that means that someone rescued her.

"Perhaps," he said idly, focusing his attention on the cipher machine before it malfunctioned and electrocuted him. "But it isn't like miss Dorval is struggling against him. She's been kiting for us and you're on your last legs after being chaired twice."

Alice shakes her head as she turned the knobs of the machine.

"I'll be fine. I'll just have to stay out of sight for the time being— it can't be that hard, can't it?"

... Hm, she only has one film left, he noted, sparing a glance at the camera. She will have to make sure he doesn't catch her— her mirages of me when I was younger is... Quite a feat. It could keep him distracted if such a miracle can happen.

[ Beware! The hunter has changed target! ]

The two looked up as a crow flies over to their cipher. Orpheus shoves Alice off of it so it would fly over to the novelist, sprinting like a madman to the pallet to vault and start running out.

"Keep decoding!"

He ran straight to the church, feeling smoke permeate the air as it swirled and manifested behind him. The sound of a deafening thud echoed as Nightmare, their hunter of the match, appeared behind him, causing him to falter if not for the reminder that he would be killed if he stayed standing.

"I did not expect for you to take it instead of miss DeRoss, Orpheus," spoke the nightmarish entity as it chased him, footsteps thundering as the novelist sprinted to the window to vault. "Why? Are you trying to relive the feeling of a good chase from the past?"

Truly, he fits the name and title for himself— Nightmare, the novelist thought bitterly. It's almost like he was "invited" to haunt the poor novelist even in (metaphorically, of course) death.

"I believe we both know why. I don't wish for her to die in this match after you targeted her."

"Hm? But why not? It's quite... Amusing, is it not?" He scoffed, his gaze focused on him as the novelist continued to keep distance, making sure to break out of line of sight from the latter so he can't focus on him. "For her to take your place after she was grown, after you went missing—"

"I don't want to be reminded of that incident."

"Oh, I know that. But you'd know better than for me to let it go, would you?"

Ah, he should have known. Why the hell would he let it go, hm?

Instead of replying, he went through a pallet— this time, passing by someone he didn't expect.

SLAM!

"Go!"

He felt the wind push him as he turned to see a certain survivor stunning the looming hunter, attire ragged despite wearing it for God knows how long. He could only whisper a "good luck" as he sprinted to the window, vaulting over it before running off.

The only thing he could hear from outside of the church was the aggravated yell of Nightmare, followed by daring taunts that he could recognize all too well.

... You never change, do you? Ever the daredevil, he thought with a chuckle, this time sprinting to another cipher to decode.

Despite the mishaps from before, Orpheus could see that it proceeded as smoothly as it possibly could, considering the bird had his sights on you and not the novelist. Unfortunately for Nightmare, you were one of the few that never saw danger as one to be feared.

In the survivor faction, you were a force to be reckoned with; someone with such a job that can spell trouble to those whose never heard of it.

Your occupation was of a trickster, one assigned like the Acrobat and the Weeping Clown if it weren't for your malicious streak. Reckoned by many hunters as a "hunter in a survivor's body", you were called by many as a horseman of chaos, bringing about destruction in your wake.

So far, only few had managed to keep you down, but even the novelist knew you would find a way to make them regret their misdeeds.

Truthfully. Orpheus feared you. Unlike him, you saw danger akin to a pet, and not once did he understood what makes you tick. But perhaps, much like your occupation, you live your life in constant terror.

The way your eyes gleam as you evade Nightmare's attacks was one of such cases, and he couldn't help but fathom on how you look so... Alive.

... So free.

Alas, it had been the last cipher and he had it primed. Nightmare had already chaired you once, but by some miracle, Alice had got you out of the chair and you were kiting the man like your life depended on it. And, well, it did— you were keeping Alice from being chaired the third time as both of you were injured.

But it didn't last long when he saw the crow fly over to his cipher, and he could hear the ping from you and Alice that he's switching targets.

Back to me, I suppose.

Pulling away from the cipher, he pinged that it was primed and started sprinting, hearing the wind pull itself and manifest the living terror in his waking life. To him, he saw the man as one of monstrosity, whereas most cannot see it that way. It terrified him that only a few, such as him, can see the raven for what he is.

Swiftly getting hit with the sharp tip, he stumbled from the window he was about to vault, causing yet another deep gash to form on his back. He gritted in pain as he felt blood seep through and taint his white coat, coating it in crimson.

—And then, the two could hear the deafening pop.

Thus, the sirens follow, and mark the 'endgame' of their match.

With the sudden boost of adrenaline, he sped off, his legs screaming as he heard Nightmare's ghoulish calls. Still, he paid no heed as he looked back, constantly pinging the rest of his team of Nightmare's ventures.

Detention... A trait that no man or monster understood. Miss Nightingale briefed everyone on it when they first came here, and he still recall what she told to their group.

Detention is a trait that every hunter possesses— a trait that, when activated, causes the hunter to give into the carnal desires to kill any survivor in its wake.

No one understood how to counter it. If anything, all they can do was run. Run until they were sure that it was safe.

For those who do not will be slaughtered in its wake.

Reaching the open gates, he could hear your calls as you yelled for him to get out— that you would cover for him.

His eyes widened at this. At the state of Nightmare and with Detention of all things, the last thing he'd want is for you to be slaughtered instead of him.

He cannot have that. He won't have that. Over his dead corpse.

"No!" he yelled, yanking your wrist when you went back to bodyblock for him, pulling you forward with such strength that many do not think he would have the capability to posses. "Go! Get out, now!"

With one last curse to have Nightmare go through such pain, you and the others got out, leaving the deserted church and the cries of Nightmare in the wake of a survivor's win.

After the stressful match, he had to go to Emily as he was still injured from Nightmare. Despite the adrenaline for when the last cipher was popped, he felt the fatigue crash on him hard after they had left, and he didn't want to deal with Emily getting (justifiably) upset at his own recklessness.

Although, there was another reason on why he had to go to Emily. It was for something else... Something that he wanted to speak to her about. Alone.

"... I see," Emily murmured, currently patching up Orpheus's back with a few stitches. Checking for other injuries, she sighed, facing the novelist with a knowing look in her eye.

"I don't wish to undermine your efforts, Orpheus, but they're... Well, they live up to their occupation. Are you sure you'd want to look for them? Even I'm not sure on where they have went off to this time."

Orpheus chuckled, giving her a smile as he answered, "I'm sure. I believe I know my limits, miss Dyer. After all, I have dealt with them the longest, have I not?"

You were... A mystery to him. Something that needed to be solved. Despite how long you and him were, in the lack of terms, friends... He never really knew the answer for his question since he's known you.

Just what it is that makes you so interesting to him?

"I suppose you'd be right on that," Emily replied, shaking her head as she wrapped the bandages around his waist. "Well, I believe they went to Moonlit River Park. I tried to ask why, but all they said was that they have a show to prepare and didn't want to be late."

Tying it off right afterwards, she dug through her pockets and handed Orpheus a note. The paper was yellow and worn, but he could recognize the handwriting peeking out... Couple with a few scribbles. You were always fond of drawing in your notes, he noticed.

"Here," she said, smiling exasperatedly. "They also wanted me to give you this. Now, don't strain yourself too much, okay?"

With a nod, the brunette took the note and bid his goodbyes to the doctor, leaving the clinic. He walked down the hall, opening the note that she gave him to see what you wrote for him.

In the note, it reads...

Hello, hello, mister novelist! Surprised to get a note from yours truly, are you? ☆

Now, now... I know you must be wondering where I went! And you know me well by now, Orpheus— I am not one to give such a straight answer. Why, if I am, I'd certainly lose the title of being a 'trickster', wouldn't I?

Anyway, I'd like to play a... Game with you. How does hide and seek sound? It'd be like those we play in matches. Ah, but with less killing, of course.

I want you to find me. The doctor already told me where I am, so I implore you, Orpheus—

"—find me, and find the piece I seek."

... A peculiar note indeed.

Now, he was no detective. Unlike Alice, he never dabbled quite well into detective work; he used to do that if he needed first hand experience on writing a thriller book. However, with the manor hosting various events that does consist of solving mysteries...

Well. He cannot say that he didn't have experience on dealing with them in his downtime.

Checking the back of the note, he raised an eyebrow at the sight of the note. From an unobservant eye, they'd chalk it off as something normal. But to him, he knew you enough to have something hidden in an ordinary object.

Raising up the note against the light, he hummed at the sight, reading the note more clearly.

Big tent.

...

How cheeky.

Rolling his eyes out of amusement, he lowered the note and trudged on to Moonlit River Park. This time... He has a date, and he isn't going to be late.

Arriving at the big tent of Moonlit River Park, he can see the sight of the thrown pallets around and some abandoned attractions on stage. The basement was sealed, so he assumed that it would be open on the two story building.

What was it? Hullabaloo? He should to check the name again when he sees it.

Walking on the stairs of the stage, he inspected the entire tent, noticing the sight of a note plastered on the wall. It was the same as the letter he retrieved from Emily, so he had no hesitation to take it.

Checking the front of the note, he red through what you wrote this time.

If you found this note, then I was right to put my faith in you, Orpheus. You know my tricks enough to figure out where my note was lying about, huh? Maybe I should up the ante of this game of ours...

Haha! I'm kidding, of course. Why would I? It'd be terrible if your 2nd hint is in a place you can't find so easily.

Anyway, to find where it is, the answer is what you're reading. If you're confused or, mayhaps, lost... Read it again. You'll see what I mean.

... See? What in the world...

His brows furrowed as he red through the note again. There was something in those words, and if he can take your statement for what it is...

...

Rereading through it again, he can see a pattern. From your writing, it was hard to tell, but there were letters that are emphasized more than others.

... I'm at 2nd stop. Hah, how cheeky of you.

Tucking the note away, he left the stage and raised one of the flaps, running out of it. The faint chime of the circus music echoed around the map, haunting yet nostalgic for those that have witnessed its glory. For Orpheus, though, that brought some... Awful memories of his losses there.

... Ah, he can't be reminiscing now. He needn't remember what happened in one of his visits here.

Reaching the other side of the large map, he could see a bird perched up on the rails, perking up to see the novelist arriving by the stairs. With a chirp, the blue bird flew to him, its claws carrying another letter.

Whispering a 'thanks' to the bird, he watched it fly off before opening the third letter in his hands.

Moonlit River Park is a beautiful place, isn't it? Regardless of what many may think, the circus holds a special place in my heart. Such a shame that the tragedy has ruined it for what it's worth...

... Such is beauty, I suppose. The manor holds such unique yet curious people, just like you.

Where am I going with this? Hm, good question. I wish I have the answer to that, but I'm not sure if I have one. After all, I lack the voice to speak of such a thing, or to answer your inquiries.

Now, if you wish to look for where I really am, you'd know where to find me this time.

Why, I can see you now, little novelist. Look over to your left.

Look ove—

"Boo."

Orpheus could feel his heart give out for a moment, his head whipping to see you peering over him with a cheeky grin. Seeing the look of fear in his face, you couldn't help but laugh, your voice ringing in the air of the abandoned park.

"Ahaha! You should've seen the look on your face, Orphy," you said, amusement ringing in your voice. Jabbing him lightly, you snickered, "Perhaps I should subject you more to such simple mysteries. I'm surprised you manage to get through them!"

Orpheus scoffed. Despite your streak, he swore that you were but a child to someone like him.

"Hmph, and you should know that I have a weak heart. Not everyone can keep a straight face when they're snuck up from behind."

"Yes, yes," you drawled, patting his shoulder. "I suppose that's true. I'll spare you the... Worse I can bring, then."

... Just for me? How kind, he thought, but he didn't voice that out to you in fear of being seen as ungrateful.

"That aside, do you need me for something, [Name]?" he asked, finally facing you, raising an eyebrow at your demeanor. "Forgive me for saying this, but you never reach out to me first other than to cause mischief."

"Oh! Right, about that..."

You paused, your head turning slightly to the side. With a sheepish laugh, you continued, "I just... Wanted to bring you here. I remember you telling me that you never got to see the park when it wasn't used for matches— well, not without Memory, but that's understandable— so-"

Ah... So that's why.

...

Despite your behavior, you have a kind heart.

That is one thing he cannot deny that he liked about you. You may have a sadistic streak, but your kindness will always shine through it.

"... And I thought of getting Antonio as well, because he was planning to perform, and—"

"[Name]," he said, cutting you off. You perked up at him, humming to let him know you were listening. Orpheus couldn't help but let a chuckle slip, giving you a smile that was different from his usual poker face.

This one was more of sincerity— an emotion rarely seen of the novelist.

"Thank you," he continued, his eyes closing for a bit as he let out a soft laugh. "But please, you don't need to do this much for me. If anything, just being here with you is enough."

Before he can stop himself, he reached out to grab your hand, fingers interlocking with yours.

"... If I'm being honest, I am not a man seeking of such lavish and desire simplicity. However, since meeting you, you showed me just how adding a bit of uniqueness and extravagance can make things more memorable."

He could see your eyes widen at his confession, but he continued, as if he didn't wish to stop.

"Truly, I must blame you for claiming my heart as your own— you do it so effortlessly, it feels more like you've know how to weave me into your tales. However, as unfortunate for some, I don't think I'll be able to blame you for stealing it."

Tightening his grip, he reached out and grasped your cheek— watching as you relaxed on his hold.

"Not when I'm about to do a crime of my own, little trickster."

Under the guise of the sundown, the rays begin to emit such a glow that can make things more enchanting to the observant eye.

And a kiss was sealed, the untold confession of the novelist marked in the midst of golden hour.

© ᴏʟᴇᴛᴜs-ᴍᴀɴᴏʀs-ʟᴏɢ | 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟹 ✧ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛs ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ, ʙᴜᴛ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀʀᴇ | ᴀʀᴛ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢs ᴛᴏ ʀɪɢʜᴛғᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀs

[oletus-manors-log]

eeeeeeeeeee hello i desire orphy crumbs so , can i send a letter in for a drabble / headcanon list for a pining over reader orpheus ? if you’re gonna go for the drabble , gender neutral afab reader please , please take your time with it even though i’m desperate for orpheus content

OBSERVER'S NOTE :

“ The novelist, you say? Hm... Interesting. I hope what I made brought justice as I didn't want to delay this much longer. Truth be told, I had contemplated having the reader pine over Orpheus, but him pining over them is much more funnier.

Am I slandering him? Perhaps. However, it's not like he can stop me, hehe! Anyways, I hope you enjoy the headcannons! (I also did both pining reader and in reverse because I love teasing both sides. Mutual pining, am I right?)”

Mutual Pining Headcannons for: Orpheus

Dear God, save this man.

Orpheus is not a hot mess. Well, usually he isn't. For many others, the man is built solely to intrigue those who try to figure him out— his identity is a mystery, but many don't seem to bite the bait due to his more... Inhumane counterpart.

Does he mind? No, not necessarily. He enjoys having to live in peace without people badgering him for what he is, and in that regard, he never saw the point of trying to have another interest in him.

... until now.

Seeing you was one thing, but dear God, he can be such a mess. He didn't knew why a novelist such as him would falter, but it was almost like you had him in his hands.

Just what are you? You seem to have an air of mystery, and yet he can read others like an open book. It was almost like your door has been locked, and he needed to find a way to open it.

And that intrigued him.

It started out small, actually. He found you interesting after a few matches. You could've been a veteran for your skills, and yet, as he spoke to you... You confided that you were not.

You were new, you told Orpheus. But he noticed that you were a quick learner— quick to pick up things that many in your shoes wouldn't be able to.

To many survivors, that seems as though you're tooting your own horn; you were bragging on how quicker you noticed those signs, how you didn't cower in fear or became stupidly headstrong like the others. To them, you acted haughty for saying such words.

But to Orpheus? He found it a breath of fresh air. A sort of answer that is so different from many, from those with many faces— and that is what hooked him to try and figure you out.

It proceeded on as normal, but you found yourself in the company of the ever elusive Novelist after that. He was always so hard to reach him, so difficult to find— and yet with you, he seem to miraculously turn up and be with you in your misadventures.

Even the other survivors, notably the Journalist and even the Entomologist, made comments to him on how he's forming such an attachment.

On how he— the myth of the man whose identity cannot be traced— was growing attached. To you.

Orpheus didn't believe it at first. He found you interesting, he said. Why wouldn't he be so intrigued with someone who is so different from the others?

It shot down the initial assumptions, yes, but it didn't mean it stopped many others from saying that he's growing a fondness for you. For you, as the other survivors never reached said level with him.

The Novelist was never close to many, but only for specific individuals. And even then, it was under a thin veil of courtesy.

But to you... Said courtesy has been an afterthought; and it was like he focused on what truly matters aside from it.

And after a night spent in an event, one that took of pictures with the Novelist, Journalist, and you in the frame... He realized it.

He... Was growing fond of you.

Nay, he was growing feelings for you.

He didn't knew if you noticed it, but after the fireworks has ceased and fizzled out, he began to try and do different approaches. To you, he still acted the same.

But to the others? He acted differently.

He began to write ideas, but it mostly revolved around you. He began to grow fond of them and write stories of such length— fantasies that has some part of your character in it.

Orpheus was the Novelist, no one can deny, but even they can tell just how smitten he got.

It was a slow build up, however, for he feared one thing:

Would you ever see him as a monster if you knew?

Oh, but what a fool he was. He didn't even knew the truth behind those simple interactions you two had, didn't he?

For him to realize that he has fallen for you, he has neglected to realize that you, too, have fallen for the Novelist.

It was a cliché of all time— two remarkable individuals in a manor chock full of morally questionable and dubious individuals, and yet even they can see the way you look at Orpheus.

After all, no one is spared or exempted from the matter of mystery. You were of no exemption, but perhaps that mystery from him enraptured you.

You always found him fascinating, hadn't you? To think that the elusive Novelist felt the same as you have, but no man can convince either of you to admit such feelings.

Orpheus may have a keen eye, but even he falls short to how you, too, have fallen for him.

For all of his flaws, his mistakes, his glory— you have grown fond of him, as he does to you.

“ Ah... I did not expect to see you again. Hm, perhaps you'd like to indulge me in my works? I'd like to see your perspective in this. ... Hm? Oh, this premise I'm writing is about a lovesick man... ”

© ᴏʟᴇᴛᴜs-ᴍᴀɴᴏʀs-ʟᴏɢ | 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟹 ✧ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛs ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ, ʙᴜᴛ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀʀᴇ | ᴀʀᴛ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢs ᴛᴏ ʀɪɢʜᴛғᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀs

[oletus-manors-log]

OBSERVER'S NOTE :

“ Due to certain matters, I'd like to thank Taegan Collins (@nice-chiaki) and Samuel Blackwail (@paperbcy) for giving me the means to... Start things off with the poor novelist.

I swear to not write angst unless it's absolutely necessary (and because I also have requests to tend to), but these two have given me the means to... Start things off properly. Enjoy. ”

[ TW.: Major Character Death ; Gore ; Trauma ]

Call of Abyss

The abyss was not one that a man can take on his own.

It's a weird thing, really. The abyss is not one to discriminate those that reside in it, and yet for Orpheus, he found it to be one of the very places where mankind is to be judged in its own eyes.

As he stood by and stared back at the unending darkness, he found himself unable to look away. Why, what he was staring was something no one but himself can understand, and it was almost as though it spoke to him.

" Orpheus... "

Despite the yelling he could hear from those around him, it sounded akin to white noise as the unknown reached out to him, gently grabbing him by the throat.

" Oh, Orpheus... "

Then, it went by to even more parts of himself. Those voices he kept hearing became more and more softer— it was almost harder for him to hear it if it weren't for them yelling, begging for him to look.

Alas, he couldn't look. Rather, he didn't want to look.

It was almost like something was stopping him from doing so.

" Orpheus! Orpheus, wake up! "

He could hardly feel anything in his body as the walls came crashing down, his mind becoming numb with the amount of thorns that began to sink into his skin like knives. He knew in himself that it was wrong, but who was he to indulge the last bits of himself before he's lost humanity?

And yet, before he could go for long, he felt 2 lithe hands yank him from getting too close and deep into its confines and dragged out, making him greet the beaming light—

—and the angered look of one of the survivors he was in a match with. One that he knew awfully well.

"What were you doing in there?!" Lily yelled, sounding angry as she held her pompoms under her arm. "Can't you see that being near him was bad news?! You were like, under it's control and letting him eat at you alive like that!"

The novelist stayed quiet as he heard words(?) come out of her, her voice sounding much like white noise that he hears in his episodes. He could hardly understand what she was saying as he could see the abyss lurking from beneath them, slowly clambering its way up to their legs—

—It'll consume her alive. I need to act quickly.

"—and it's like you forgot we were in a ma--"

"Move out of the way!"

He shoved Lily off to the side, and although she wanted to yell at him again, her eyes widened at the sight of spikes coming up from beneath and striking the heart of the matter.

Orpheus's heart.

All she could do was watch in bated breath as she sees the novelist's body be pierced by multiple abyssal spikes, digging through him and making him bleed. After a while, he seems to lurch and heave, almost like he was alive.

And yet his eyes... Oh, Lily couldn't forget.

His eyes were staring at her.

Boring holes into her like a film that could not be forgotten by many.

Although his body was twisted and contorted to an abomination that she could hardly recognize, she couldn't hear herself screaming as she saw the last remains of the novelist be tossed to a pathetic whelp of mass, guts and blood spewing and spilling absolutely everywhere.

Then, she hears it.

" Lily.... "

The darkness ate away at what semblance she had as she felt paranoia seize her heart, her pompoms laid on the ground with a defeated and muted pomf.

...

Was her surroundings getting darker, perhaps?

Or was it simply her imagination?

Alas, no man can save her, for she has heard it calling for her.

And thus, she reached her hand for the abyss above, unknowing of the fact that it had consumed her from below.

© ᴏʟᴇᴛᴜs-ᴍᴀɴᴏʀs-ʟᴏɢ | 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟹 ✧ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛs ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ, ʙᴜᴛ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀʀᴇ | ᴀʀᴛ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢs ᴛᴏ ʀɪɢʜᴛғᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀs

[oletus-manors-log]

OBSERVER'S NOTE :

“ As college kicks my ass, I'm rising back from the dead to say: happy birthday Sam (@paperbcy)! You'll get something nice from me that's actually really nice. I'm not going to make this lengthy as I'm busy with college still and my mind is a mess oops. Anyways, have fun as I descend to my insanity of college in the background."

Halo

Winter is here.

To Orpheus, the sight was not a question to him, nor was it an illusion. As he looked onwards to his window, all he could see was the falling snowflakes, the frost decorating and climbing up his window.

Oletus Manor never had snow before. During his stay, the only maps he's known to have snow was Leo's Memory, and even then... It was more of a hindrance than something to admire.

He could vaguely remember the blood staining the pure white landscape and shuddered. He forgets how hunters are mere... Beings, cursed to chase them as survivors in the death game. Worse, wield things that would leave them with phantom aches.

Alas, that was something he shouldn't remember.

Pushing himself up and from his seat, he walked out of his room. He needed a breath of fresh air, and maybe a trip outside of the manor will be enough. After all, going outside never hurts anyone.

And so, Orpheus ventured on.

As the footsteps echoed down, down, down... The novelist noticed that the residents aren't around. It was like the manor is empty, devoid of life.

Then, he hears it.

The giggling of two children as he saw himself running from one of the halls, being dragged by another child.

"Come on, Orphy! We don't get to go out often!"

"H- Hey, stop pulling! I can walk!"

"You'll take too long if you do that! Come ooooon!"

He couldn't tell if he was seeing an illusion, but after blinking a few times... He isn't. If anything, it felt more like he's walking down the manor that is more resemblance of his memories.

... Something that he's repressed for so long.

Quietly, the novelist followed the two children. They were weaving through halls and corridors, the blonde excitedly dragging his younger iteration through them like she knew the location herself.

It's no wonder she's able to go around the manor, Orpheus thought. She's a clever lady, but to think she used to live here...

Still, what he didn't expect was for the two children to get to the front door. When he had arrived, the door was locked and bolted shut, but in his sight, it was left ajar. Clearly, it was a ploy— a trap to think it was already opened.

Although he seems hesitant, he watched the two kids pushed the door wider, letting the sight of white engulf them as they both went outside.

Then, he could hear it.

The faint cries of joy as the children's voices grew faint, and he felt himself taking a step forward.

He knew that this was a mere memory, something that was tied to the effect of those drugs they were forced to take. However, he didn't want to break the illusion just yet.

His gloved fingers rest itself on the wooden door, his monocle glistening as the first few snowflakes touched his body. It felt... Real. Cold, yes, but real— unlike the maps and games he's endured.

With a gentle push, the novelist went out of the door, trudging on.

For a mere moment, he swore he felt someone hold his hand.

Warm.

He felt warm.

"Are you ready, Orpheus?"

And for once, the man looked up and on to the one leading him: the one tied to his memories.

"I'm ready, Alice."

He couldn't forget how warm her hands were, and how her halo shone just a bit brighter amidst the snow.

Just like when they were children.

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