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[uchidaxnana]

uchidaxnana​:

And then he snaps. Rafael splinters before her, and Nana feels sweat bead at the back of her neck. There is no talking this down, she does not think. There is no consoling him, not like before. There is pure, unadulterated anger, and Nana is left to catch the shrapnel in hands that, as he continues to speak, voice rising, cannot seem to stop from shaking. Nana clasps them together in an attempt to push down the misery rising in her chest. It floats over her like a cloud, showering acid rain – it’s there in front of him, that Nana is pushed through to the other end – the end in which she comes to the realization that Rafael, at the end of all things, is not her family to keep. She is as easily disposable as any of the rest. 

No amount of explaining will ease Rafael’s worry, and Nana knows this by now, can see the red blooming at his neck, can see the way it hollows out his cheeks. “We’re looking into the software that was installed on his ring. We can’t determine whether or not it was turned off or hacked until after. We would need to take into account the number of people who knew about his ring for it to make sense that something happened to it.” Nana holds onto logic, onto the facts, because if she cannot do that, then what the fuck is she doing here, before him? She knows this opens the door to a plethora of theories – that she’d been behind it. 

Nana does her best to maintain her composure, to hold the anger, to swaddle it, to press it down until Rafael is far from her. Maybe we’ll throw you back in Cat and Mouse. Nana’s face ashens at the words, and the splintering feeling cascades across her chest. “If you have to do that, then fine. I’ll be the first to volunteer, I’ll take the knife to the throat. Satisfied?” Nana unclasps the knife hidden just inside her sleeve, strapped to her forearm. She unsheathes it, flips it, thrusts it towards Rafael handle first. “Do you want to do it now? Or should I find your father first? Do you want to put an end to me now since I’m so useless? Or do you want me to continue to do my job?”  Nana’s hand still shakes, and she reaches forward, grabs Rafael’s wrist, pulls it forward, makes him grab the knife. “I told you,” Nana whispers, steeled – far from the woman who fell beneath Rafael’s smile, his golden heart, “I would do anything for your family. So if you want me to spill blood for a crime I didn’t commit, but couldn’t prevent, then by all means.” Tears prick her eyes as she holds Rafael’s hand around the knife. 

-

His privilege dictates that those beneath him, are akin to living marionettes. If Rafael asked his people to jump, they would ask how high. If he wanted to watch them dance to prevail from death, he’d merely give the order. He is learned in this; the art of asking the impossible, and dangling certain hurt if he does not get it. But it burns all the same, when Nana offers what once was unthinkable. A look on her face that’s as unfamiliar to him, as his own unhinged cruelty. The knife slips free from her arm, prominent and sure, and he recoils when Nana reaches for his wrist. The knife is simultaneously weightless and heavy in hand, with Rafael peering at her immeasurable face in stoic silence.

“You would offer me your own blood?” He wonders in quiet inquisition, the spiraling anger once in his chest dissipating into something real. His throat runs dry, caught between simultaneous disbelief and gross satisfaction. How could it be that his affection for her, could grow so cold? He squeezes his eyes shut, the frustrated hot tear spilling down his cheek. He edges the knife closer, until it just grazes her collar bone. And just as quickly, he pulls it away, dropping it to the ground.

“Find him, and find him soon.”

END

[uchidaxnana]

labellemadone​:

date: July 17th, 2021 location:The Manor availability:@nanauchida

Nana’s performance during the Cat & Mouse event had been impressive even if Bella wondered how much of a choice she had. Bella wasn’t sure how she felt about the so-called game to even begin with. She had wanted to catch up with Nana after, but with the engagement party and everything that came after, the Virtue felt like she had barely enough time for herself. And then Rafael Sr. went missing, along with all the other Horsemen and when it came to their own, fingers had been pointed at Nana, only for her proximity when it happened. And as more Horsemen disaparead, it became apparent that something bigger was at play.

Being forced to suddenly live under the same roof as everyone, no longer a distinction between the gangs was something most of them would have passed on, Bella was certain of it, but they had to follow orders. As everyone was here, it was the perfect opportunity to reach out to Nana, something Bella felt guilty for not having done sooner. Finding a moment when the other was alone, the Virtue took her chance. “Hey,” she started with a soft smile. “How are you holding up?” There was so much Bella wanted to say, to ask, and while she’s never been one to hold back on her words, she was unsure how to approach the other now, considering everything that was happening. There was some sense of paranoïa in her, wondering how much would remain secret, no matter where they were in this place. “It’s not on you. You know that, right?”

--

Fractures had begun to split across the devotion that Nana had held onto for so long. Not just for Raf, but for the lot of them. The votes, cast not out of neutrality, she does not think, but out of something else -- vengeance, maybe, was not the first hit. Being expected to risk her life for a game that she hadn’t known she’d be coming out on top of hadn’t been the start of it either. To be honest, Nana had a hard time placing where the foundation had begun to crumble, but did any of that matter? Especially now with Rafael Sr missing, and Raf on a journey to seek and destroy? Being under the same roof as their enemies, even prior to a truce, was also jarring -- another way for her to be needled, to be helpless. 

So when Bella approaches, Nana does not stop working her knuckles into the surface, rag dragging beneath. “Well enough. Not much room for falling apart at the moment.” When had she ever been given the chance to do such a thing? Nana was no martyr, nor was she helpless, but the idea of falling apart now? It was laughable. 

Bella means well, and Nana knows it, so when she finally shifts her attention from the gleaming countertop to the Virtue, it is not a scowl she wears. There’s no expression at all-- devoid of emotion, her anger and rage tucked away for something bigger, for something where it it will pay off. “Hm? Tell that to your acting Horsemen.” The vote from Rafael, given their conversation at her home, had been expected -- but Marcus? Even if he had explained himself, it still felt raw, a hook through the chest. “But I’m not taking it personally. I’m not the one who gets to spend time in a makeshift cell that looks more like a suite.” Nana leans up from the counter, folding the rag in on itself. “What about you? How are you dealing with all of this?”

[uchidaxnana]

apollothepark​:

“Nothing says merry like a room full of people who’d love to off each other.” Apollo said, lips twitching. He still didn’t understand the appeal of dressing up in the first place. No one was supposed to recognize them so why look good? It didn’t matter.

“It feels like a farce. Whatever they’re all up to, this isn’t some magical band-aid to fix it all.” Michaela didn’t include him in her decisions and he certainly didn’t want her to, but all the backroom chess games and posturing sure got annoying. Why couldn’t they just go back to offing each other? “Surely you can’t be excited about this.”

–

“That’s what plenty of these people would say I’m sure.” Nana’s gaze sweeps the room once more, then back up to Apollo. “I don’t think any kind of bandage could fix the ... well,” Nana motions towards the individuals who banter together. She’s sure that there is aggression behind their madness, even if concealed.

“Excited? Absolutely not.” Nana knows there’s no point in hiding her distaste for the sudden turn of events. It would be blatantly obvious to all how she felt about it, especially given her position at Fem Energy. “But making a bigger deal out of it than it is, it’ll only make it easier for those twats,” Nana means Death, “to do something bigger, whatever that is. Though, who knows if they’ve got it in them. Maybe they’re scared now.” 

[uchidaxnana]

rfjofficial​:

It’s the thing he loves most about her - she’s relentlessly steady. Come whatever storm or mishap, Nana finds a way to remain unmoved. What a rare thing it was, in his circle of cohorts. His cousins, like him, languished in beating hearts and mercurial ways. Ikki, for all of his reason and collection, always worked to pull himself higher. But not Nana. No, she was ever-present, ever-sure. An unwavering, sure force. Rafael colors himself secure in her presence, as did his father. As did the rest of his family.

When did the thing he loved most about her, become the very thing he hates most?

“What about before that? Huh? Did someone hack the tracker in his ring? Did they put something in his scotch?” He was needling in further. Yet they both knew the truth. No answer could satisfy Rafael. The only cause for satisfaction, was to watch his rage leave its mark on Nana’s resolute stance. His closest friend, his trusted confidant… Yet all wanted Rafael, was to see her hurt. He thinks, though tinted glasses, that it would offer some reprieve. And he’s far too undone, to think anything else.

“Then what you’re doing is not good enough.” Rafael settles, petulant and set in his ways. No space for reason, in what’s become a hunt for someone to blame. “We’re well past scared and glasses of water now, sweetheart. I’m fucking pissed off. You had one job - keep us safe. What’s the point of you, if you can’t do that?” His Adam’s apple bobs, dry from rage. A close approach, staring into her sunken eyes. Did it hurt? He wants to hear it hurt. “Maybe we’ll throw you back in Cat and Mouse. Worst case? We earn back the high fucking cost of your damn security measures.” He doesn’t say it, but the cruel indication is there on the tip of his tongue - would the best case be that I lost you, too?

After all, if Rafael Senior’s blood was nowhere to be found? Then maybe her blood would do the trick.

-- 

And then he snaps. Rafael splinters before her, and Nana feels sweat bead at the back of her neck. There is no talking this down, she does not think. There is no consoling him, not like before. There is pure, unadulterated anger, and Nana is left to catch the shrapnel in hands that, as he continues to speak, voice rising, cannot seem to stop from shaking. Nana clasps them together in an attempt to push down the misery rising in her chest. It floats over her like a cloud, showering acid rain -- it’s there in front of him, that Nana is pushed through to the other end -- the end in which she comes to the realization that Rafael, at the end of all things, is not her family to keep. She is as easily disposable as any of the rest. 

No amount of explaining will ease Rafael’s worry, and Nana knows this by now, can see the red blooming at his neck, can see the way it hollows out his cheeks. “We’re looking into the software that was installed on his ring. We can’t determine whether or not it was turned off or hacked until after. We would need to take into account the number of people who knew about his ring for it to make sense that something happened to it.” Nana holds onto logic, onto the facts, because if she cannot do that, then what the fuck is she doing here, before him? She knows this opens the door to a plethora of theories -- that she’d been behind it. 

Nana does her best to maintain her composure, to hold the anger, to swaddle it, to press it down until Rafael is far from her. Maybe we’ll throw you back in Cat and Mouse. Nana’s face ashens at the words, and the splintering feeling cascades across her chest. “If you have to do that, then fine. I’ll be the first to volunteer, I’ll take the knife to the throat. Satisfied?” Nana unclasps the knife hidden just inside her sleeve, strapped to her forearm. She unsheathes it, flips it, thrusts it towards Rafael handle first. “Do you want to do it now? Or should I find your father first? Do you want to put an end to me now since I’m so useless? Or do you want me to continue to do my job?”  Nana’s hand still shakes, and she reaches forward, grabs Rafael’s wrist, pulls it forward, makes him grab the knife. “I told you,” Nana whispers, steeled -- far from the woman who fell beneath Rafael’s smile, his golden heart, “I would do anything for your family. So if you want me to spill blood for a crime I didn’t commit, but couldn’t prevent, then by all means.” Tears prick her eyes as she holds Rafael’s hand around the knife. 

[uchidaxnana]

rfjofficial​:

He knows, with flagrant certainty, that there would be no true answer of importance. Neither Ikki nor Nana indicated as much, and he’s certain that the remaining facts would be parsed through with a fine tooth comb. This logic is known, and perhaps if Rafael were clearer of mind, he would cling to reason instead of temperament. Yet there is nothing he can see, than red in the white’s of his eyes and a tunnel vision for the woman in front of him. Few people had what Nana had; the Femenias’ unequivocal trust. It was one thing to entrust their money or their business interests in the many Power’s and Angels… Quite another, to trust the beating souls of those closest to him.

This trust took years to build, yet Rafael feels it breaking in as little as a few hours. If he could not believe in Nana, who could he believe in?

“You lost him.” He maintain flatly. “You, with all of your protocols and security meetings, just lost the most powerful man in London?” He questions, an air of cruel sarcasm that fails to be mature. “Just like that? Christ - there wasn’t even a gun shot, or any evidence of a fucking fight. Whoever it was, they just took him. And you… You just let them.” Did he prefer brutality to cold absence? Perhaps. Something to be said for evidence that proves violence, or a struggle. Because such things left pieces or hope. Now, Rafael had none. Not even his father’s blood on the fine leather of his sedan, to cling onto for hope.

“I want to know what the fuck you were doing, while all this was happening. Where was the extra security? Who was making certain the car was secure?” Rafael punctures on, each beat louder than the last. “We spend millions on security, and they just take him without a fight? How does that make sense?”

-- 

Rafael’s anger is justified. His father has disappeared, no smoke in his wake. The signal that should have carried herself and Ikki to him had died, a fragmented heartbeat -- thousands of hundreds of dollars put into security for their treasured Horseman, and for what? For it to fail? Nana tries to hold onto the logic of Rafael’s accusations for fear of losing herself to the venom hidden beneath her tongue. She has no right to lash out, she doesn’t think -- she’d failed him. It wasn’t the first time, either. Even if she hadn’t been present, it was still her obligation to ensure the safety of the Femenias family. 

You lost him. Nana holds herself steady, gaze leveled with Rafael’s. She allows him to speak, because despite the excuses that build at the back of her throat, she knows that they will mean nothing to him. He will shred them apart and leave them at her feet. “My team had done an inspection of his car an hour before departure. We’ve already viewed the security camera footage of the lot that the car was in, nothing was out of the ordinary. We’re checking to see if it had been tampered with.” Nana does her best to keep her tone from imposing the anger lighting atop her skin. 

“Security was to meet them once they arrived just beyond the bend.” It being early morning, even Nana had questioned why extra security hadn’t been put into place. With both Wren and Ikki accompanying him, too, Nana had to wonder. “I understand that you’re scared. I’m worried, too. We’re doing everything we can. I’m doing everything I can. Raf-- Rafael, please.” Professionalism leaks from her at the seams as she settles into her skin as his friend -- confidant. “Can I please get you water? Can you take a seat? I’ll show you everything I have right now, we can look at it together, put everything into place, see where it goes. I’m heading into the office-- I was, I was heading into the office, to review everything, anything new.” 

[uchidaxnana]

rfjofficial​:

@uchidaxnana​ | Evening of Tuesday, July 6th at Nana’s Home

Power means nothing if you cannot protect the people you love.

It is a known entity, written into the journals of Horseman’s of Famine’ past. As golden a truth as Familia Sobre Todo. Many times over, that power is questioned and contested. Yet time and time again, they break through it. They survive. And who was built of heartier stuff than Rafael Senior himself? Never mind the strength required in ruling over Famine, or surviving a near-fatal stab wound, or the loss of his tight-knit family… Rafael Senior would undoubtedly outlive them all. Or so Rafael believed. And yet, the disappearance lands differently this time around. At least before, there was Rafael Senior’s warmth. The pool of his blood on Rafael’s hands, the well-loved silk shirt throw onto the hamper basket.

This time, there is nothing but the deafening silence of absence.

Leave it to Rafael, then, to fill a noise. An emboldened stance as his own vehicle lands outside of Nana’s apartment. The updates from Ikki, burning a hole in his pocket. All that technology, all of that investment - for nothing? Heart about his head as he catches Nana on her way out. A purposeful stride of a security head, alerted by the red of Rafael Senior’s loss. “What the fuck?” Rafael exasperates, the heavy beat of his heart in his chest nearly deafening. It’s the only sound he hears. There is nothing of his father. Not anymore. “Get in now. Now.” He holds Nana’s wrist, firm and decisive, and pushes back into her flat.

“How the fuck did your security team let this happen? How did you let this happen?”

--

The moment she’d gotten the call, the world started to spin. It’d been an Angel’s voice, low and husky. There’d been yelling in the background, directions being thrown this way and that. Afterwards, she’d been out with Ikki the majority of the afternoon, chasing a lead she’d installed herself, only to be left empty handed. She had barely enough time to come home and shower, let alone enough time to eat before she aimed to head back into the office.

As soon as Nana shoulders her door open, however, the sound of steps, heavy with purpose, cause her to look up. Slightly dazed, Nana blinks once, twice, before she can process Rafael grabbing her wrist, backing her up into her home. She’d been in this position more times than she could count, especially after the truce had broken -- but now? What was her excuse other than incompetence? 

Nana knows to keep her mouth shut, to let Rafael speak his piece. Anger draws the veins at the base of his neck, in his forehead. There’s turmoil, too. It’s embedded in his features. She’d seen it time and time again, and truthfully, she hoped she’d never have to see it again. This temper is what Rafael is known for in his darkest moments, and Nana had spent enough time in his shadows to feel afraid. 

Nana clears her throat, looks past him to the open door. She steps forward, closes it with her knuckles before veering around him. 

“There isn’t an excuse, I don’t- I don’t have any excuses.” Nana maintains eye contact. Wouldn’t looking away just prove her guilty of all the things Rafael wants to accuse her of? "I’m on my way to question my staff again. If you would like to join me, you’re more than welcome.” Nana tries to keep her tone level, straight to the point. “Ikki and I were out all afternoon-- I left you a voicemail.” The tracks had gone cold, she wants to say. 

[uchidaxnana]

ikkinakamura​:

He has to laugh, or look vaguely amused, at the suggestion to not get tied up in in what-ifs. Oh, if only that was something he would ever be able to manage, a lot of Ikki’s problems would not actually exist. Maybe it would be something he should work on in the future, but right now he found comfort in going over every single what-if and figuring out ways to manage each and every potential disaster that happened. It did not help much with stress, but Ikki could handle stress with grace and a cool disregard. He was not so fond of dealing with the complete existential dread he felt when walking into an unknown situation. So, he just sent Nana a look that was torn between cynicism, and amusement as he nodded his head.  “Of course,”  he says, agreeing in a way that says he is going to continue to be wrapped up in what-ifs. He knew Nana was right, and his way would lead to nothing more than laying awake in bed at night thinking about problems that would never come to pass. That was Ikki’s brand. His greatest weakness, that almost spiraled him off to his complete destruction. Being with Rafael was grounding, it always had been, for both of them he thinks. But there was a reason Ikki regularly suffered from insomnia.

Ikki reaches for his water bottle fiddling with the label absently as he listens to Nana’s suggestion. It’s certainly not a bad one, one he’s even considered himself before multiple times. The reputation Famine had among the other gangs was obvious. They were fuck ups who couldn’t hold their shit together, they had everything handed to them, they only cared about themselves, etc… Ikki knew how easy it was to start thinking those things, very personally. He knew how easy it was to fall into that trap. He also knew it was all bullshit, and could easily be used in their favor.

He arches an eyebrow at Nana’s assessment of what went wrong with Thomas, and the failure there. That is the thing he disagrees with. There was enough guilt and blame to go around, and he wonders if Nana shoulders her own in that regard. Ikki had at the time, but they weren’t responsible for what happened to a man who knew very well where this life could lead you. Their failure hadn’t been the security, it had been lack of information and an enemy they knew nothing about. But he doesn’t press the issue. Or disagree ( out loud ), instead he moves on.  “I think that is a good idea over all,”  he says evenly,  “the question is how to we make using that tactic useful to us in the long run? If the truce does last for years once again, are we just pretending to fuck around for years in the chance it ends sooner rather than later? Is that going to hurt rather than help if it does not end soon? It seems like a good way to get the upper hand if there is a goal, so what is the goal? Information gathering, perhaps,”  he adds thoughtfully.  “If people are underestimating Famine, they may be let their guard down around our members that are more— Friendly, and we could utilize them to gather information from other gangs while the truce continues.”  Ikki shrugs his shoulders, just adding an idea on top of Nana’s. Maybe this was what they should do, maybe it wasn’t, but this sort of conversation was how plans were formed.

--

Separating her own feelings regarding the situation-- truce or no truce, had always been difficult. Those worries bite at her, leaving her to ruin. But if she were to succumb to the ideas of what could happen, where would that leave her? Her job was on the line, every waking moment -- to prioritize the safety of others had been of utmost importance, and it bled through everything that Nana did, even now. She notices a look in Ikki’s eyes, but doesn’t bother to decipher it, as there were certain ways in which they dealt with the monsters beneath their beds. Nana was not going to tell Ikki how to deal with his, and she didn’t expect him to tell her how to deal with her own.

“If we make an effort to look dumb, don’t you think that would only reflect poorly on those who believe us?” Nana tilts her head to the side, hands folded in her lap. She wants to delve further into this, to come up with the ways in which Famine will not lose, but instead rise above the calamity that is sure to befall them. The timeline, however, is what makes it difficult. Without knowing what the others are working towards, their own goals set high above them, can Famine do much other than wait it out? “Unless we know the motives of those on the other sides, that’s a difficult question to answer.” She looks down at her hands for a moment, brows pulling together in thought. 

When Ikki suggests using members of Famine to gain intel, Nana feels her stomach turn. It was always about putting others down against the ground, gun to their head -- orders, she thinks. Necessary. It wouldn’t do well to be blinded by the what if’s she’s told Ikki to bypass. She nods slowly, “If we’re able to provide a seemingly... safe space, there are bound to be those who will talk. But they’d expect us to do so, too. We could feed them information that we want them to know.” They still had a rat amongst their own, and Nana is uncertain if they’ve been made, yet. “I’m not suggesting a swap by any means, but a rat, maybe. One that we know about?” Nana suggests this, layering on top of Ikki’s words. “Sort of how we sent Kitty and received Zach.” Nana shrugs. “It could be molded in a different, more discreet way. But unless we’re aware of the intensions of others, it makes it difficult to plan out how we should act, especially when we don’t know how long this is to last. For all we know, others could be working together.”

[uchidaxnana]

apollothepark​:

“As as anonymity is fun, these things are really inconvenient.” Apollo did her the courtesy of averting his eyes when she took off her mask, even though it was clear they both knew each other. It seemed good manners in the circumstances. She stood next to Rafael with the same regularity he would trail after the Pinketts when asked.

He did enjoy the image of Death’s lackeys fumbling. Especially if it meant more inconveniences for the fourth and most annoying of the gangs. Hoitey-totiey motherfuckers. “I like to imagine that not all of them came out of the experience with their jobs.” Oh no, less members of Death. What a shame. “Imagining them tripping is also quite fun.”

-- 

“I think it’s a means to keep some semblance of secrecy,” Nana could have chosen a different mask, but it’d been Ravi that insisted upon the one she wore now. It was alright with her, she hadn’t even needed to worry about doing her makeup for the event. “Whatever that means now that we’re all together sharing drinks merrily.” There’s a hint of humor there. 

“Mmm, it’s the humor of it, absolutely.” It feels odd, standing next to an individual she could pick apart from a crowd -- she remembers it well, taking him to the ground, but they continue on, that moment lost from the tip of their tongues in respect, possibly -- or maybe embarrassment, Nana cannot be sure. “What do you think about all of this? Aside from the piano, the instruments.” Nana is curious what somebody else from outside of Famine could think, and maybe it’d give them further insight. 

[uchidaxnana]

ikkinakamura​:

Ikki tapped his fingers along the conference table in a rhythmic but tuneless pattern while he considered all of this. What Nana said, knowing how well the security team was, but knowing how much Aya did not listen and do as she was told. What was she supposed to do? To her this was just her older brother being over protective for some reason. She had no idea of the real dangers she might cause herself or someone else if she just ran off and did her own thing. Maybe he could say he didn’t want her to bring him bad press, it would piss her off, but Ikki had never cared if his little sister was mad at him. He cared more if she was going to be safe. Whatever they decided they had a few months to come up with a reasonable excuse to make Aya stay out of anywhere she needed to stay out of. Until then she was going to be staying in Japan.  “Thank  you,”  he said, believing that Nana and the security team would be able to handle this, easily. He couldn’t imagine it being difficult besides the excuses they needed to come up with. His family did not know anything about Famine, or gangs in London at all, but they were well behaved. Aya included. 

Maybe he was just being paranoid. Maybe he was just over planning for his wedding. It was likely both, on top of the likelihood that something could go down in the next seven or eight months. 

He nods his head at Nana’s response to his question. He wasn’t sure if anybody believed this time of peace would last, and he had to wonder if the people in the gangs previously had the same feeling. Eventually it would end, it was just a matter of time. It felt like they’d been all so surprised, and unprepared when it all went down— only a few months ago. Ikki let’s out a sigh, and leaned back in the conference chair, shaking his head.  “I don’t trust it. It feels like we need to take this time to prepare for the inevitability that another bout of violence could break out at any time. Whether it happens in a few weeks, or a few years it doesn’t matter. We can’t let ourselves be surprised again.”  Everyone felt like they were steps ahead of them at every move. But maybe it was just in Ikki’s nature to focus on the failures rather than on the successes. Was he being too critical? He didn’t feel like he was…  “Kitty and I have been working out reliable ways to get weapons in our possession outside of anything to do with the Wardens. That’s something we need to keep open. Other than that… If there is anything else you can think of that may be able to give us a hand up, sometime in the future, please let me know. I would like to help.”

If Nana had been afforded familial relations past that of close bonds, then maybe she could consider Ikki’s situation slightly more than she already had. Of course she could understand that he didn’t want his sister to get involved in the life that he led. If Nana had a younger sibling ( sans Wren ), then she wouldn’t want them to be involved, either. But the bond she shared with those she looked upon as family were not blood, and Nana could understand the clear separation of such a fact that bred Ikki’s worry. Whatever decision that Ikki would make in regards to Aya’s arrival in London, Nana would honor it, and as she had promised, would ensure her safety. With a truce, no matter how long lasting -- it did not matter. She simply nods at Ikki’s thanks, knowing that if he wanted to discuss the topic of Aya coming to London further, then he would. It wasn’t like her to press, to propose acts in which she’d succeed. If he decided his little sister were to come to London, then Nana would propose her plan then. 

“I don’t believe War or Pestilence will, either.” Would Death even stand to arm themselves against the downfall, should another strike the match? It was silly to think that things would remain peaceful, even if that extended into years, like Ikki contemplates. Nana doesn’t crave violence, not in the way that others in Famine do. Instead, Nana is the type to subdue it. Do as she’s told, absolutely, but Nana wasn’t foaming at the mouth to get her hands around the throat of Death, War, or Pestilence. If the truce remained, then her people were safe. If it broke, then she would act, no questions asked. “It’d do us well to prepare for the inevitable downfall, but I think it’s important too, to not get caught up in the what if’s.” Nana has considered this plenty since the announcement, and she raises her gaze to meet Ikki’s, glad that their conversation has positioned itself somewhere beside their personal lives. “In regards to what I believe we should do, I think it would do us well to... make ourselves seem small.” Nana searches his gaze to see if he’s following. “If the others think we’re getting comfortable at the idea of a truce, it may backfire on them when they decide to strike.” It’s not a solid plan by any means, and it would have plenty of intricacies in just how to plan out those supposed weaknesses. Surely the others had plans of their own. “Increasing security would mean an easy way for them to find loopholes. Look at what happened to Thomas.” She does not speak lightly of his death. “We dressed to the nines, and still, things slipped through the cracks.” Nana leans back in her chair, hands folded in her lap. “It’s not so much of a plan as it is a thought, but,” the Power waves their hand towards him, “if you have any thoughts, by all means.” 

[uchidaxnana]

apollothepark​:

“They can take their times of unity and shove it up their ass.” Apollo muttered, wishing he could just take off the mask and chug his drink properly. How was anyone supposed to get wasted at a party full of their enemies with all these damn things in the way? Being piss-drunk was the only way he’d get a good fight out of anyone now.

“Do you think one of ‘em tripped getting it down here? I hope so.” That was a mental picture he could live with: some poor sodding Angel tripping and smashing their face into the piano. Maybe they even broke a nose. That’d be nice.

--

“Well, I’d cheers to that, but.” Nana motions to the mask she wears, only to be pulled away in moments where those around her cannot see her face. She’s not naive enough to believe that there are people in this room that wouldn’t recognize her -- not when she had stood by Rafael so many times in press conferences. 

“Oh, it’s possible.” Nana glances towards the entry points of the large room that they stand in. The image of one of Death’s Angels fumbling with a piano, if in private, would have made Nana chuckle. Instead, she allows her mask to hide the smile fueled by that humor. “I can’t imagine that it was an easy job. Maybe the hardest any of them have faced.” 

[uchidaxnana]

nana // valentines day. 

[uchidaxnana]

milo-pierce​:

She was tense. Anyone with eyes could see that, but Milo was stuck trying to figure out why. It could very well be the fight still wearing off. If it was him, he would think she would tell him to fuck off. There wasn’t any reason for her to entertain him, unless she actually was interested in some way. Which would be good for him, regardless of what she was interested in. 

“Not another ring, no. That’s not my business, I just enjoy the entertainment.” The blonde exhaled a laugh through his nose. Pestilence had plenty of chemists, scientists, and dealers. What they could use more of was protection, particularly experienced protection. From what he saw, Nana would fit that role perfectly. Even if she wasn’t fully trained in security. Anything she didn’t know could easily be taught. “I was thinkin’ more security detail. Do you have any weapons training or are you all hand to hand combat?” Truth be told, Milo was better with hand to hand and melee weapons but he still knew how to use a gun well enough to get the job done if needed. As long as it wasn’t a long distance, then it was up to luck. Something he should work on but truly had no desire to, there were too many other things on his ever growing to do list.

He nodded when she repeated the name of the company tied almost as close to his heart as Pierce Distributions. Both he would likely do anything for, but he was already the king of one and the other he was still climbing. “They are a multi-national company that produces medical technology and pharmaceuticals. One of the biggest on the global market and the biggest in the United Kingdom.” He explained, his hand moving with his words. The criminal side of it he held his tongue on for the moment. No need to scare her off before he had a chance to lure her in. “I do some work for them. I think you would fit in well with their operation and it pays handsomely.” Money was always a good thing to mention. “But not a high rise, it would be a lot more underground. Places like these, clubs, parties, casinos- you get the idea. Some travel, possibly internationally. I have to go meet with clients all over the place.” Milo looked over at her then, and offered up a slight, but inviting smile. 

--

The people around them swarm like flies, voices too loud, some too low. They speak to one another in the hopes to obtain glory, Nana thinks. Her mind wanders as she listens to their conversations, suspicion still clawing at her chest as the man beside her speaks. She glances towards him, brow raised. “Security?” She’d been asked to act as security for a few bars, but none of which she ever ended up taking the offers of. It wasn’t her speed, and she didn’t necessarily like going in and looking for trouble. It was better if it found her first. “I only use my hands. We’re about fair fights here.” Nana thinks about the glock in her bag, buried beneath two pairs of sweatpants. She thinks of the discreet firing yard in a far off place, metal scratching against metal. 

“One of the biggest on the market?” Nana widens her eyes in feigned-interest. She’d had people come to her with words like these. We’re the biggest. We’re the best. We could use somebody like you. Every time, Nana turned them away. With what she made each night here, though not without bruises and contusions, was more than enough to keep her from selling her soul to some corporation. “Sorry, that doesn’t do much for me.” Nana shrugs, crossing her arms against her chest, fingers fidgeting with the torn fabric of her sleeve. “Are they paying you to run around these places?” Nana shoots him a glance, head tilted to the side, “to convince people who don’t seem like they’re worth much, to sign them to some contract because they’re easily taken advantage of?” The point was, Nana could leave her anytime she wanted to. She just had chosen to stay, and maybe it was because there wasn’t much else beyond these walls, but it wasn’t like he needed to know that. 

“Doesn’t sound like my thing,” Nana reiterates, “not much of a flyer.” Nana looks him in the eye, turning slightly to face him. She drops her arms to her sides. “Whoever pointed in you in my direction was pulling one over on you.” She reaches up, wiping sweat from her forehead. “I’m fine here. I’m sure you could pick up any of these bastards, though. They’d be more than willing to hop on a plane and fuck off to wherever it it is you’re promising.” 

[uchidaxnana]

ikkinakamura​:

Where: Femenias Energy When: June 30th Who: @uchidaxnana​​

It had been something on his mind since he’d asked Rafael to marry him. How were they going to deal with his family? Were it not for the truce recently be reinstated it would not be a question. They would not be stepping foot inside of London. But now here they were. Ikki did not know how long or how secure this truce was, so he wasn’t planning too far ahead, but they had to start planning something.

His parents were a non-issue. Getting into other people’s business was not an issue, and was in fact considered extremely bad form where the Nakamura’s were from. He was fairly certain they would only come to London for the wedding, maybe stay for the weekend, and leave because they were two very busy people with very busy lives. Putting it like that made the similarities between himself and them rather apparent for a brief moment in Ikki’s mind, before he moved on to what the issue actually was. He meant this with all the love in his heart, the issue was his sister. Aya Nakamura just wanted to know everything, and be involved in everything going on at all times. If he trusted the idea of this truce at all, perhaps it wouldn’t be as much of a problem, Aya used to come to London at least a few times a year. But he did not trust it. At all.

That was where his request to talk with Nana came in. He filled her in on all of this as he set two bottled waters down and took a seat at the table in one of the Femenias Energy conference rooms. Told her about his hesitation, and suspicion in the truce, before shaking his head.  "Normally she’d just make herself Jessica’s problem, or maybe I’d foist her onto Wren, but Death already brought her into all of this one time, and I don’t need somebody to attempt to use her against me again,“  Ikki said, shaking his head in distaste. Meaning Wren’s watchful ( anxious ) eye was not going to cut it, and Jessica couldn’t be without security herself anyway.

"We haven’t set a date yet, but it likely will not be until later this year,”  he said, opening the bottle in front of him,  “who knows what may happen before winter comes around.”  Not to be cynical, but … he was a cynical person. So, he was wary… Ikki sent a furtive look Nana’s way. Curious, but unsure if he wanted to know one way or the other. That wasn’t true, validation was always better in his mind, than false reassurances. Probably why he asks,  “Do you believe this truce will last?”

--

“It’s an obvious concern,” Nana responds, leaning forward to take the bottle of water from the table. She uncaps it, lifting it to her lips. The lukewarm liquid hits the back of her throat and she savors it, throat dry from lack of water breaks overall. “I can see how you’d be reluctant to allow her to run off with either of them, given everything. Even with a truce, I’m not confident that they wouldn’t try something.” Nana sets the bottle back down onto the table that sits between herself and Ikki after recapping it. “You’ll already have plenty to worry about, it wouldn’t do you well to worry about the safety of your sister, too.” Though Nana had no familial binds, she thought of those who ran amongst Famine as siblings. Some more than others. If Nana were in Ikki’s position, it would be Wren that Nana would worry the most about. But unfortunately for the lot of them, they did not have the luxury to worry about whether or not Death had it out for them -- because the answer would be that yes, they did. 

When Ikki mentions the date of his and Rafael’s wedding, Nana nods, stoned faced. When Nana had heard the news of their engagement, she had very little room to find discomfort. No matter her feelings, residual or current, she was in full support of Ikki and Rafael’s relationship. There had been a twinge of pain to begin with, but as time moved on, first with the engagement news, and then the party, Nana knew she had very little time to stew in self-inflicted misery. Even if she’d gotten the courage to spill her heart to Rafael, it would have done nothing but make things uncomfortable, and that was the last thing Nana wanted. It was better to stay quiet, to let those very feelings dissipate. They would. Nana would make sure that they would. “Well, I can’t guarantee what will happen between now and then, but rest assured, whatever Aya needs while she’s here, she’ll be supplied with it.” Nana works through the logistics, mind blending different situations, different outcomes, when she’s snapped out of it by Ikki’s question. “No.” It comes out fast, and it’s Nana’s honesty that awards her with understanding, she thinks. “Granted, it may last as long as the last. Who’s to know at this point. There are new contenders, greater risks, greater rewards. It’s hard to tell given we’ve just entered it.” 

[uchidaxnana]

kittym​:

Kitty listens, a spark of curiosity glinting in dark eyes, her focus squared on Nana even as a wave of raucous noise erupts just a small distance away from them. She wants Nana to know that she’s taking in what she’s saying, she realises — however hard she might dispute attempts to keep her from the siren call of Cat + Mouse’s danger. Because the woman sat before her has dedicated her life to what Kitty and Marcus attempt to do out of love, fighting for their family with sharpened teeth, watching and waiting for trouble to raise its head and promptly ripping it to shreds until satisfied by safety. They do it because they share blood; because they’re raised like pack animals who never want to spend a winter alone. Nana, though — she has no such ties. And Kitty would be foolish to think the Power operates out of fear. But she also can’t imagine that it’s loyalty alone. A small nod is offered, finding parallels between the suggestion of keeping emotions in the heart, compartmentalising, and the pang of yearning that ricochets through her ribs when she sees Saint in a crowded room. “It’s fucking hard. Feeling one way and acting another.” 

Her trust has been pecked away at the past few months, and even now it’s difficult to swallow the forgiveness Rafael has offered his best-friend-turned-boyfriend-turned-fiance at the risk of letting Ikki embed himself so deep in their family that they’d never survive another betrayal. They’re all fools for love, though, her family. Their hunger for it is ravenous, seeking it in the hearts of those who shouldn’t love them if only to prove its worth. “Not everyone is as trustworthy as you,” she points out, and her fingers brushing Nana’s tensed knuckles are half in thanks. They hadn’t chosen her for Cat + Mouse because she was expendable and they didn’t care about the outcome. They chose her because she could be trusted to get the job done. A warm hand that was curled around a gun just a short time ago presses atop her own and Kitty smiles — a gentle but genuine thing, saving up the praise she’s given tonight for later when she’ll lie in bed and turn each word over in her mind like a rare and precious trinket.

“This is important to me,” she promises, and half wonders where her reputation of needing to take more care to look after the blood-soaked secret of Cat + Mouse comes from. In her not so humble opinion, it’s unwarranted. But she also has no idea that she’d mentioned the new betting game to an MI5 agent a few days prior. Sometimes pride is difficult to swallow when you’re not used to the taste of it in your mouth. “It’s fine.” Reassurances are easily spun, her attention beginning to waver and stray towards the idea of another drink. “Nobody outside of Famine knows that I run it.” Not even Saint, yet. “I want the other gangs to know it’s Famine behind it, though. That was the whole point: to make them realise that we aren’t the fucking underdogs. That we’re just as dangerous.” A slow grin forms, creeping across her lips. “And now they know.” With a squeeze of Nana’s hand in parting, Kitty stretches any residual tension from her limbs and slips down from her perch on the stool.

[uchidaxnana]

kittym​:

Irony lingers in Nana pushing for an answer when she hadn’t considered a predecessor herself, Kitty watching the first Cat + Mouse victor stretch the settling ache of violence from her limbs. There’s a restlessness in her own that yearns for that feeling — evidence of a job well done, bone-deep, with a scar or two to prove it. Fighting is in her nature, yet almost every time she’s come up against someone these past few months she’s been on the back foot. Reacting, not planning. Dodging blows instead of dealing them. “Or you could talk to a Seraphim.” A one-shouldered shrug punctuates the suggestion, still getting used to there being a choice of Rafael or Ravi. “They know the ranks better.” She pauses, curiosity snagged on a thought that takes a heartbeat to free herself from. “If you speak to Ravi about it, let me know who he suggests.” How quickly would he put his spouse first, offering Marcus anything he can sink his teeth into? 

Nana argues her side with a certain steadiness, yet the telltale signs of frustration begin to seep into each syllable. It lures Kitty in, keen to fan the flames and pour her honesty onto them like gasolene. “I get that you’re concerned. I do. It would look fucking bad for you if I went head first into a fight just to be killed. But I have my own job to do too.” Each firm word is forced from a stubborn mouth that struggles to explain how she feels when her emotions get too large. They take up more space inside her than they ought to, making it difficult to think beyond their racious noise. Eyes glinting with wild determination remain fixed on Nana’s, irises looking black in the low light of their private area. The heavy beat of a bass drum rolls through the air; the party’s pulse. “If I think I’d be a better Virtue for having taken part in Cat + Mouse, there’s quite literally nothing on this fucking planet that will be able to stop me.” Gracefully accepting being told what to do has never been a forte of hers.

She quietens, though, as Nana offers advice. A small, sharp pain pierces her chest and it strikes Kitty, then, that she hasn’t had anyone guide her since Thomas was demoted from Virtue to Power to grave. Anything since has mostly been wrapped up in criticism or critique, forged from places of fear and upset. “I guess I just— I don’t know. Assume that you’ve learned to stop feeling things as much. Removing the why out of what you do and replacing it with the how to get shit done.” Because what more has she been offered into understanding how Nana works? The Power is a shadow; a spectre. Everything she does is performed with clockwork efficiency and a devotion that isn’t rooted in love, which she will never be capable of understanding when her own loyalty is soaked in nothing but. “I mean, where do you even put it all? All your emotions?”

She sighs, long and slow. It isn’t reluctance that keeps her from accepting Nana’s point, rather a distinct awareness that the overlap in their roles and morals is what’s causing them to clash. To Kitty, it is her willingness to sacrifice herself for Famine that makes her valuable. She will run into the jaws of danger for her family, regardless of what lies ahead. How many of them could say that? How many would fall upon their own sword if their Horseman asked? When she doesn’t prioritise herself, she makes herself stand out as someone who can be relied on to do the dirty tasks without batting a lash — and keep her cousins’ hands clean in the process. But if Nana is the one to step up and do that for the sake of protecting her, then what does she become? What is her place amongst her family if she can’t be the one to stride recklessly, daringly, into situations that others would find horror in. “I shouldn’t have said anything,” Kitty declares. It’s as close to an apology as Nana is going to get. “I know that you’re one of the best and that you understand better than most what it means to give Famine your life. That’s why my uncle trusts you.” Her line of sight doesn’t waver from Nana’s features, studying how anger looks on the other woman with a hint of fascination. “And maybe if you help me learn to think with my head and not my heart in a fight, I’ll help you realise that sometimes letting your emotions control you is the best way to get rid of all the shit building up inside your head.” She reaches out, pressing a gentle touch to the sharp knuckles curled around Nana’s knee.  

Nana isn’t sure if she would want to approach Rafael with the idea of somebody to replace her. She briefly wonders if he would take it as her request to step down, and the last thing she wants to have happen is for him to think that she can’t do her job in the capacity that she’s being asked. The mention of Ravi is sound, and Nana hasn’t forgotten the friend she must also answer to. Not that it would be any different if he weren’t a Seraphim. “You make a point,” Nana says after quiet deliberation. The fear Nana wears, solidly formed around her heart, vibrates in the center of her chest. She wants little to do with this fear, because it is not centered around herself, or her life -- or rather, the ending of such a thing. It’s embalmed in something else -- the kind of thing that Nana can’t quite place. 

“I still feel plenty.” It should be obvious to Kitty now, she thinks. “I feel everything, but after you’ve gone through enough, you learn how to compartmentalize. You learn what helps you and what will only hinder you.” It’d taken her a long time to figure out -- how to move in the same frequency as her pain. To embrace it, rather than to reject it. It wasn’t that Nana was pretending not to feel anything... it was just that she’d gotten good at dealing with those issues in moments where she was alone, rather than allow it to control her. In the years she’s known Kitty, it’s obvious that there’s quite a lot of work to do. “I keep them in my heart. They’re still there, but they’re easier to deal with when I take into consideration everything else around me. How if I focus on those things, what the outcome might be. If I don’t, it’s easier to... in this context, I suppose, fight.” There had been plenty of times in which Nana no longer wanted to feel. She had wanted so badly to push all that caused her strife to the depths of her being, but what would it solve? 

Even now, sitting across from Kitty, accusations not meant to be accusations float between them. Would this be enough to show Kitty that she cares? That there is more to her than a sharp blade and hands meant for murder? That what Kitty had watched on screen hours ago was not all that there was to Nana? That she was devoted to Famine? To her, even. “It’s clear it wasn’t meant with malice, and it’s possible that I came off a little too strong, but don’t doubt others and what they’re willing to do if they say they’ll do it.” There were liars, of course. That was reflected in the way that one of their own had texted Death. There would always be traitors, but Nana hoped that soon enough, Kitty would be able to tell them apart from those who spoke true to Famine, to her family. Nana breathes out through her nose, the flare of anger easily displaced by understanding. When Kitty reaches out for Nana’s hand, she looks down at it, then back into the younger woman’s eyes. “We’re both capable of learning a lesson or two,” Nana says, and though her tone is deflated, she turns her hand over on top of Kitty’s. “You did well tonight. This idea, everything about it. It’s smart, but please, Kitty. Don’t let your eyes become larger than your stomach.” Nana doesn’t mean it in the way that Kitty is incapable of telling when things are going downhill. “I don’t want anyone to take advantage of this game, or of you, if they get ahold of it. That’s what I mean when we can’t always be certain of the outcome. If it falls into the wrong hands. Granted, I’ll do everything in my power to keep it from doing so, but if this leaks to anyone else..” 

[uchidaxnana]

apollothepark​:

Apollo’s spine stiffened. He knew that voice. There were only so many people who had beaten him in a fight and he knew them all on sight. Nana. God if only they’d seen each other last month. He’d never get that goddamn rematch now. Losing to her had been humiliating, only because Jaemin had seen.

“That must have taken them ages.” Sucks to be the Angels in charge of that thankless task. Apollo didn’t envy them a bit. Now that he was further up in the food chain he rarely looked back. “Sorry sods. It’s almost out of tune, too.”

–

There are very few individuals who stand at her company’s height, and though she’s thought of him very little, the ending blow in an area for all to see comes to mind. 

“Possibly.” She looks across the grand expanse that covers the individuals whose glittering gowns glow beneath the lights overhead. It was too boisterous, and the glitz and glam of it all made her uncomfortable. Reminding herself to relax her shoulders, she looks back up at Apollo. “I imagine this will be some kind of statement, later on. A centerpiece of some kind for why they’re that much better than the rest of us. We offered you a piano in times of unity.” Nana rolls her eyes, tone humorless but falling into the joke all the same. “I imagine it was a headache, bending until the ceiling lifted?” 

[uchidaxnana]

kittym​:

A smile flickers across her lips like a distant flash of lightning, quick and powerful and a warning for the rumble of something dark and ominous to come. With Nana’s help, Cat + Mouse would surely prosper. Kitty wants nothing more than for it to strike excitement in the hearts of the right people — and fear into those who ought to know better than to assume Famine are little more than over-hyped sports enthusiasts desperate to empty gamblers’ pockets. “Thanks,” she says, and genuinely means it, pressing a delicate touch of gratitude to the other’s lower arm. Her hand returns to rest on her own knee, restless fingers toying with zebra-printed fabric. A curious glance is offered to Nana as she continues to push towards an answer for her replacement, groomed brows twitching upwards. “I don’t know.” It’s only half true. She has thought about it briefly after assigning their head of security this first Cat + Mouse match, but only on the surface. Idle. Irrelevant. “I guess maybe Marcus?” Not an entirely reassuring choice, admittedly, given his tenacious desire for control. The pressure of keeping them all safe had already proven a strain on him in the past. “Or Belladonna?” Although, with a brother embedded in War that hardly seemed like the safest decision. Instead of offering another possibility, she breathes out a laugh. “What can I say, you’re pretty fucking irreplaceable. I mean— your choice of who would be able to do your job is more valuable than whatever I think.” 

Kitty hadn’t expected this response, Nana’s gaze hardening as she studies the Power with a glimmer of confusion. “You’re right, there is a difference,” she counters, having long ago learned not to fear the shadows and the danger that might lurk in them — otherwise she’d turn into little more than prey listening for the crack of breaking twigs. “Because if anything, Cat + Mouse is fucking safer. One opponent. One game that I know the set-up of because I’m the one who made it. One winner because I control the whole fucking thing.” Heat laps its way into each point, hostile towards the idea that she could pour her heart and soul into a project only to be met with dismissal at the concept that she truly immerse herself in it by taking part. It’s back — that uncomfortable feeling she gets when Nana installs a new security measure at her home or assigns another person to keep an eye on her until she can lose them after a back alley chase — the sound of a key turning in a lock to a cage. “Every time I choose to do something for me it feels like a fucking battle.” And perhaps those are the words of a brat when spoken from a place of privilege and power but when so many of her actions are those following orders, the rare opportunity to make her own decision is prized.

Yet she also knows, deep down, Nana is simply doing her job. What talented protector would let a member of the family of those she works for walk headfirst into danger without attempting to stop it? “I want you to show me,” she insists, taking the opportunity she is given because she’s never been one to turn her nose up at an offer. Rarely knows what she wants until it’s given to her. “I really do, because I fucking— I get that the way I operate isn’t ideal. I’ve always struggled to control myself, sometimes my emotions just feel so big that it seems impossible, but you— you always act professionally and don’t give away too much of what you’re feeling.” She falls silent, then, warnings twisting their way through the air like serpents. Nana is all but imploring to be heard, to be acknowledged, Kitty’s gaze trained anywhere but on the irises burning into her. It isn’t until her family is mentioned that the full focus of her attention returns to the other woman. “Raf knows I’d die for him.” The heavy statement is spoken matter-of-factly. “And he hates it. But I never understood why, really. Ever since I became an Angel I figured that if I can choose what I’d die for, it’d be for Famine. So it doesn’t matter if I get gunned down by War or Pestilence or Death tomorrow, or if I mess up playing Cat + Mouse. That’s what I signed up for when I joined my uncle’s gang. And if you can’t say the same, if you think that you’re going to live to a ripe old age and fucking retire, then you need to have a long hard look in a mirror.”

There are parts of Nana that lay restless, the shadows of night creeping over her arms, her chest -- those very shadows keep her awake, questions of what is to come looming over her head. What would happen if she suddenly died? Nana wants to believe Kitty, but she’s right. Whatever opinion she has would have little to go against whatever Rafael Senior had already set up, or even Raf himself. But she wants to know, especially given Kitty’s push for Nana to join in the head start of these games. Nana can tell Kitty’s mind works against the possibilities, and though she’d given it plenty of thought, she was never secure in her own choice, as it always seemed to change with the way others presented themselves to others, as well as to herself. “Irreplaceable? Hardly. But I appreciate your words.” Nana flexes her fingers, the bandages on her arm straining against the movement. “I haven’t put much thought into it. Granted, it should be something in the back of my mind. I suppose I’ll have to take up such conversations with your uncle.” 

As somebody with a flame lit beneath them, Nana can understand Kitty’s frustration in what she says, but there’s more to it, and Nana isn’t sure if Kitty can see that yet, her mind rolling against the glamor of such a promising new venture. Not only for herself, but for Famine as well. The Power wets her lips and exhales, reaching up to massage the underside of her jaw. Though it’d taken no hits, there was an ache to it, possibly held by the way she continued to ground her molars against the weight of the conversation. “This isn’t about not being good enough, it’s about precaution. Kitty, I know you’re frustrated, but you have to understand that it’s my job to think about these things. My job includes making sure you don’t die. You can understand where I’m coming from without feeling as though I’m building a stronghold, telling you what you can and can’t do, right?” Nana wants her to understand, and though the Power had come off strong to begin with, there’s something that simmers and sets, her own violent flame matching the flicker of Kitty’s. 

“Emotion should be replaced by the revelation that any moment could be your last. Not in a way that instills fear, but one that keeps you moving. Allowing yourself to get bested due to whatever.. capability you might think you have is the first step to understanding that we all have the same skin, the same set of bones. Some people wield differently, and that’s what you need to learn.” The anger, or rather, frustration that’d begun to cut away at Nana prior to Kitty opening up to her, has naturally subsided. Before her is a girl who wants to do the best with what she’s given, and though her emotions are wild and uncontrollable-- it’s the fact that Kitty acknowledges such a thing that tells Nana she’s truly willing to learn. “Do you think I do that because I don’t feel anything? It’s quite the opposite, but after years of having to operate this way, you get used to it. I’d never want you to have to strip yourself of your anger, of your love-- it’s raw and it’s powerful, but in a life or death situation, it needs to be suppressed.” Maybe getting a little too ahead. of herself, Nana clears her throat. She attempts to keep her voice low, not wanting others to hear the words she spills into this space created out of Kitty’s volition.

Nana’s jaw works against the venom that strikes through the air, and if this were anyone else, she would get up and leave. But this is Kitty who dances against the lightning that splits between her ribcage, traveling as a furious jolt to those who work against her. Nana steels herself against the anger that rises. For Kitty to suggest that Nana would think she’d live past the age of 40, even -- ever nearing, now, only a few months from her 36th, is laughable. And Nana laughs. It’s harsh and it’s sharp and it’s void of humor. There’s a sickly sweet edge to her voice as she speaks, and she thinks this is the kind of person Kitty sees when she views Nana. Capable, dependable, void of emotion. "If you do not think I wake every day with the thought of being put six feet under by the time the sun sets, then you do not know me very well.” And she doesn’t, Nana realizes. Nobody does. “Not because I’m scared, but because I would sooner take a bullet for any of you before you could even catch the scent of gunpowder. I grew up with the understanding that even before joining Famine, violence would be a constant in my life.” Nana takes a deep breath, “I might not have imagined it to lead me here, but let me make one thing clear. If I have my way, it will be my blood spilt before yours. Before Rafael’s, your uncle’s-- Ravi’s, Marcus. Jessica. Even Ikki, now.” Nana feels a heat rising to the back of her neck. “I care very little if I am out of line, because you’ve just told me I was to act as a guinea pig to a game I wasn’t sure I’d come out of alive. Did I reject your decision? Of course not. I knew what going into that game would mean, and for you to suggest that I do not know what I am dying for is beyond disrespectful. Just because I do not want you to die to those same circumstances does not mean I was unaware I signed my death warrant the moment I stepped into line with Famine.” Nana doesn’t realize her fists turn white with the way she grips her knees. The strain in her bandaged arm, her shoulder -- a screaming pain that’s pushed into a corner, her anger too violent to ignore.