brave / heart

     “Yeah. Surprisingly it does.” Her words are not much more than an agreement, the arm that had been drawn in front of her to keep her from moving withdrawn. She’s kept an eye on their surroundings (par for the course of an assassin) even if her senses are a bit dulled because of the water and other factors. At the very least she’s been trying, so there’s that. She hasn’t spared that much of a glance at her ‘partner’ of sorts, considering he hasn’t done the same. But he does raise a good point - they should get moving soon, before they wake up again, and it will be the easiest opening they get for a while. Might as well take advantage of it. “We probably should get moving soon. I’d rather not be here when they wake up. And I don’t think either of us want to stay around here longer than we have to.”

     “It’s more than likely we’ll still have obstacles to deal with. So we both better get ready to attack, defend or whatever we have to do to get through this alive. Just watch my back and I’ll watch yours okay?”

She’s to the point. Good; they don’t have time for pointless chatter, and he has no desire to talk any more than is necessary. Guard is still on edge, of course, little can be done about that, but all things considered, that’s probably for the best: given that they don’t know when something might wake up, it’s better to be prepared for that eventuality. He’s ( secretly ) relieved to see that she’s in agreement, though— while he might not have any particular grievances on leaving someone behind due to conflicting interests, it also wouldn’t rest well on his mind with the current situation in mind. Besides, it’s easier to put his pride aside knowing that this is an arrangement that mutually benefits both of them. “Absolutely not.” He murmurs, something of an agreement, something else that might be almost offended by the notion of sticking around danger.

“Are you ready to depart, then? Everything in hand, no further concerns?” The young man standing before her seemed to be in good physical standing, but there was the issue of rationing their water, and they had little way of knowing how long diving would take. Okay, that was a lie. Cornflower was able to calculate it when Riku asked what was in the water. It would take about an hour and a half to swim there, assuming the duo headed directly for dry land instead of exploring. Huh, well if a single sip provided two-hours’ worth of oxygen then perhaps it could do them some good to sight see.

Turning to face the open sea again, the smaller of the two retrieved her water bottle and raised it aloft. “If you are, then let us not delay.” With that, she uncapped the lid and held it to her lips. Her face screwed up in concentration right before she swallowed. Under normal circumstances she would remember to shape shift the proper organs beforehand, but with the child she was accompanying on her mind, it had slipped her thoughts.

Hesitation lingers, just a bit—  it’s hard to not be extra wary in times like this; and all the same, this does not seem like the time to hesitate, so soft hum and nod responds in kind. “You really don’t mind going out...?” There are other lingering concerns, questions that he can stifle— and yet even then, not an entire thought is the one that one slips out ( you cannot help but feel both flustered and frustrated towards yourself, even if that doesn’t really show itself in anything more than an awkward grasping of fingers and cloth ).

As much as Adrien wants to explore the underwater city, It speaks of hidden dangers but he often takes a dip in the sea sometimes. He knew something is lurking within it.

“Hm, maybe at least for now.” Adrien responds to him. He forgets to introduce himself. “Ah I forgot, my name’s Adrien Agreste.”

“Coast looks clear.” Quiet murmur of words, arm hastily withdrawn from where it’d been hastily thrown out to stop her from moving, a tinge apologetic. He’s hardly spared her a glance, gaze set on keeping eyes on the rest of their surroundings: other senses are aware too, of course, if not somewhat muddled by the water. It’s kind of a familiar thing, like something else that runs deep in his blood, but offers no real familiarity ( or advantages ). “It’d probably be wise to get moving before they decide to wake up. It might be the easiest opening we’ll have for a while. Unless you plan on taking your chances by sticking around here longer?” In a normal circumstance, that might not be half a bad idea: but considering the circumstances, it ultimately seems unwise to do so. Still...not that he’s usually very talkative, it’s at least useful for keeping his mind from wandering too much.

“Sounds good to me.” Adrien responded while he turned to stare at him. He heard about the underwater city that he wanted to explore so much about. It must be a trip underwater! Well, he’ll give it another go as Cat Noir.

“Hey, did you hear about the underwater city? Seems kind of cool actually. It’s around these parts. ” Sure, it may be more water, but maybe he’d get those special bottles, maybe he might explore it himself.

Whew. That’s one crisis averted— while he could probably hold a fight with an eel, he really didn’t like the thought of the other potential attention that any spilled blood might bring: besides, not that he really believes in that much superstition, but it has to be some kind of bad luck to kill a creature like that, though that’s probably not relevant here. Maybe.

It wasn’t necessary to gaze into the future to answer the child’s question, though it also wasn’t any trouble to do so. It seems what time they will spend in the water, either traveling to the city or exploring around it, would be occupied mostly with each other or with separate adventurers. Every marine creature that showed in her vision would just swim hastily away. Although whether they knew she was inhuman or they just instinctively fled from larger creatures was beyond Cornflower’s talents.

“I would guess…multiple schools of fish, a variety of plants, and maybe a shark or squid, but that is a bit farfetched.” Yes, what with all the citizens hoping to uncover truths about the project, it’s possible that all the animals were scared off ages ago. Riku himself did not seem frightened or deterred, he actually looked quite fascinated. “It must be safe enough for civilians to reside there, right? Surely the two of us can outsmart anything that means to cause us harm.”

As someone who had spent his fair share of time in waters before, Riku would like to think he had a fairly good idea of his standings, these surroundings: yet always so doubtful, second guesses what is tried and true. Maybe you just want to imitate something humanlike, that fragile—

Some solace can be found wandering in the outer limits of the city, perhaps it is because of his own ties to the sea— perhaps it is because lingering out here is away from most of the people wandering the city ( hah, just kidding, there is no question that it is the later that is really of most comfort here. It’s no secret ). Not that solitude really ends up lasting, other teen tagging along has to be close in age; even if he maintains a certain distance out of habit, there’s an underlying gentle kindness that makes it hard to completely push away. He’s not concerned, of course, he seems plenty capable.

Island boy stands near the boundary between sea and city and watches for a long minute— perhaps it is only natural to feel like the waves beckon to him ( perhaps there is something else there that even he’s not sure of ). Is it selfish to want to indulge in going out into the water? He is used to thinking of things in gains and risks— if it is a matter that has some worth, Riku could never be entirely sure of his own assessment. Always the responsible one, aren’t you? Who else could he depend on, anyways.

( Admittedly, some part of him probably knows it’d be a carelessly reckless choice to go out on his own, which might be what’s really factoring in here. That’s all it is. Probably )

Finding Riku here—or Riku finding him, rather—is a proverbial weight lifted from Sora’s shoulders. He is, after all, a boy who thrives off friendships and a touchstone of a familiar presence is always a boon. Selfishly too, he’s glad for it. For all that Sora skirts around the topic, they are stuck and away from most everyone again, and it shouldn’t be this hard to keep everyone together, but fate has other plans—or something of the sort, it seems.

At least falling into old habits is easy. Easy enough that Sora can push away the strange feeling he gets that there are things that Riku doesn’t know or remember, and it’s not a topic he’s ready to breach until he finds himself on surer footing. So, he can work around it as best he can. For all that Sora is bad at lying in the long run, he’s gotten good at omission—well, he’d like to think he’s passable at when need be, but Riku has known him the longest out of anyone, so who knows how well it actually all holds up.

But those are all worries for another time, another day because Riku is here and that means Sora can maybe ease his way back into something similar to normalcy—whatever that means for him these days. At the very least, he readily rises to the challenge placed in front of him—a stubborn habit that won’t be breaking anytime soon.

“Course I can prove it.” A proclamation easy as anything, Sora rises from the couch with a hop-step, arms crossed over his chest when he turns back around with a frown aimed at Riku that’s docile enough to be considered a pout instead. “But you have to help, at least a little. I have no idea what you have in the kitchen to cook with.”

Settling back into the routine of having one of your best friends is easy enough, an opportunity for closeness the two of you have not had for a while now: a selfish realization, of course, but since when have you ever not been around the two of them? There are questions— concerns— that he has, of course, and Riku knows how to read Sora well enough most days, particular tics and habits that he can suspect that something might be wrong. It seems like a fragile thing, almost— for who’s sake that is being held back, he isn’t certain. Yours? His own? You cannot bring yourself to ask, lest you break that fragile balance. Perhaps it is a selfish thing to want to live in ignorance while he can, but—

( Sora had never liked it when he’d held all the responsibilities on his shoulders, but...he still cannot help but wish he could ease those burdens a little, even here, whatever that seems to be. Be careful of what you wish for, perhaps, )

Normalcy— he might laugh at such, if he heard it ( only Sora, ever the optimist, would look at things that way, huh? How enviable, and yet, he would not have held any sort of bitterness at all ). For a moment, at least, he can pretend like the weight of responsibilities left behind does not weigh on their shoulders; like they are teens on an island whose biggest concern had always been how to get off it. What a dream that would ( not ) be.

Then again, he’d never been very imaginative.

“Can you?” Taunt holds no real weight behind it, perhaps only amusement for how easily he goes along with it. His own motions follows the other’s, a manner of habit, really: remnant from days of kids who did not often stray far from one another, the three of them ( it is in a moment like this that her absence feels particularly noticeable ). Hand ruffles top of head with ease, as if pout really was going to be the factor to persuade him. “I think helping out would be the least I could do to call this a fair trade. Besides, you really think I was going to trust you in the kitchen alone?”

Oz bursts into lighthearted laughter. He does indeed make for a bit of an odd sight, much too gleeful and with an enthusiasm unbefitting of the situation. The light chill in the air dusts his cheeks in pink and numbs his fingertips. And perhaps it can be said that, similar to the effects of the cold, Oz numbs his weary and bruised emotions, too – it’s not entirely effective but it’s enough to pass. What’s the use in worrying, in dwelling on things that don’t matter here? There isn’t a reason to, really; his unexpected relocation to this city can be considered a holiday, if one chooses to look at it from an optimist’s angle. Oz smiles like a practiced liar and laughs like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

❝ What? You think so~? ❞ he asks, airily and with altogether too much cheer. It’s a rhetorical question; he continues on immediately after, a fool’s grin plastered across his face. (Really, is it not enough to simply be happy as opposed to the more gloomy alternative?) ❝ Aw, don’t be such a downer! ❞ he mock-chastises, snickering.

Laughter— was there something funny about what he said, or is it his behavior itself that is funny...? He, ah, doesn’t take it personally, for once ( at least one of them can make light of this entire situation ); even if he thinks it’s not the proper response, who is he to taint that? His own gloominess isn’t meant for anyone but him, after all— even if he feels envious, spiteful of the way he can act like that. Maybe a little melancholic for something you’ve never had.

Darkness is darkness is darkness; counterpart of light is universal, and even with powers missing, Riku is still himself, for better or for worse. 

Mimikyu stiffens every time someone looks at the strange couple, at first, but lifts their gaze to Riku and— 

This one is not worried, are they? Like he were steady rock, the Pokemon latches on to Riku’s reactions, emulates them. It seems to provide a manner of relief to Mimikyu, takes it as a sign that perhaps not all is bad.

Mimikyu nods to Riku’s first guess, but then hesitates and nods once more at his second. They stay still, for a moment, before eyes catch on a pile of misshapen twigs just in reach. Mimikyu inches closer, pulls them quickly with a blur of shadow, and positions them…

Seven twigs, at first. Mimikyu looks at Riku, waits for reaction, then grabs five of them and scatters them. Two twigs remain, one smaller and one larger. Mimikyu takes the smaller twig and moves it purposefully, as if the small twig were searching for the missing five…

And then points at the remaining large twig. It seems they went looking for their lost friends, but then got separated from the one that remained…? Whether Riku understands the strange charade or not is another question.

It perhaps isn’t that he is not worried ( lingering anxiety would probably feel conscious on some level at being watched ) but that he can put that aside for the time being, carefully mask away those emotions. He is not a person who should be emulated, but keeping calm seems to have its intended effect; seems to have helped with calming the mood. Good, he can reassure himself too, perhaps, this way.

Two nods— got separated while searching, then, perhaps? Granted, that’s not exactly...the most, ah, useful, information maybe, unless the message he’s supposed to get from this is that his help is being requested...? Still, Riku watches movements that don’t stray too far from him, odd game of charades is easily within his view. Seems to confirm the conclusion he’d drawn, but he’ll vocalize his thoughts anyways to be certain of them.

“That’s...your group of friends.” Hand gestures to the collective group of sticks, before referencing the two separated. “You and another found yourselves here, away from them. So you went searching...but found yourself separated from your friend here instead, is that it?” The sizes of the stick...he wonders if that’s supposed to indicate their companion is a human one? Regardless, he’s only sympathetic; pity, if it were anyone else, it might be pity that he feels to their plight— but boy recalls being in that situation before, once,

The mistakes that he’d made—

His words are met with mere silence as a sudden, solemn expression passes quickly across her features, smirking lips tugging downward while brows knit together in consideration; however, it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced once again by an easygoing smile and eyes twinkling with mischief. There’s no response she can possibly provide— his argument to her claim is airtight and offers no chance for negotiation. In fact, he seems a little more irritated than usual as he says it, and she wonders if perhaps her half-joke has struck a sensitive spot ( UNINTENTIONALLY, for once ). As much as she might enjoy riling him up, always looking for a reaction other than apathetic exasperation, Nicolette doesn’t feel much like embarrassing herself by insisting that ❛ no, you’re wrong, of course we’re friends ❜ or ❛ we’re much too alike not to be ❜.

Maybe the fault is solely her own. Maybe she merely misunderstands what a FRIEND really is— or perhaps their definitions are just too different. Similarity and loneliness isn’t enough to warrent a bond, it seems. Friendship must require far more work than she was previously aware.

She’s always tried to take the easy way out, so who could really blame her? There’s enough on her plate as it is, what’s so wrong about wanting to spare a little energy? Isn’t that just the most selfish thing about her? Wanting to be selfish but unwilling to put forth the effort— that’s what she’s doing right now, isn’t it? ( careful, one can’t be TOO self-aware, now can they? ).

❝ Ahhh, you can be so PETTY, Riku! You just love to take what I say out of context, don’t you? ❞ What context? That certainly wouldn’t change the tone of this conversation. ❝ Of course you’re a civilian—although I don’t know about INNOCENT with THAT attitude— but my point is, I’m having a really tough time here! Maybe I’m asking too much, ❞ Uh oh! Too self aware again, must continue whining, ❝ but do you have a better suggestion? ❞

Silence, and...? Person who masks away so much of his own feelings is naturally a bit intuitive, observation skills have become something keen for survival his survival— but you cannot think too much on what else might be there, for it is replaced quickly with seemingly more fitting mischief, as if to say concern is not necessary. It’s not worth thinking on too much. You’d shut her up quickly, for once. Isn’t that what you wanted? Why should he be bothered by the consequences of his actions? Isn’t it okay to be selfishly content with himself for once?

How horrible you are. You should know the answer to that question.

Friendship is not an easy thing— not with him of all people, at least. Perhaps it is just social cues that he has failed to really ever get the hang of, perhaps it is because you’d rather think of people in distance: acquaintances, casual playmates— sparingly, sparingly ever getting close to people. It’d done you some good, after all. Less people leave behind. Fewer to hurt. Harder to regret actions until they’d already come to pass. On the bright side, one might say the person you’ve really hurt all along is yourself, ain’t that something?

Who wants company with a loner, anyways? Pick your own poison, he supposes, but he can’t see anything beneficial to be gained from that kind of interaction—

( Because isn’t that what most people seek, anyways? To gain something out of acquaintances? What that something might be varies, obviously, but: point remains, what is to be earned from someone who doesn’t like melding in like the rest? What good comes from pricking your fingers on thorns? He keeps his edges sharp for good reason— well, a reason. Good is subjective )

A delighted expression graces her features as sharp words spill from his mouth, a jab at an apparent lack of empathy spit like a knife, aiming to hurt; however, scarred skin has been cut before and is much thicker now as a result. A heart remains unharmed and smirking lips nearly spew juice as a graceless snort rises from her chest, letting loose obnoxious cackling. After all, what’s there to be hurt about? It’s not like he’s entirely incorrect in that regard. She’s always been a selfish woman, and this boy certainly wouldn’t be the first to call her out on it.

She’s working on it— being more compassionate to strangers— not that she’d ever admit it aloud to anyone but Hawks, let alone to some random kid. And what would it matter if she did? Surely it won’t alleviate his bitterness and spite ( at her presence or his situation, the source is still unclear ), and it had nothing to do with her presence at the table now. She wasn’t lying before, when she said she didn’t pity him. It was not sympathy that made Nicolette sit at the table.

It was, as usual, SELFISHNESS. The unabashed, shameless kind, at that. And perhaps loneliness ( his or her’s? ), but such things were better left ignored, no?

❝ Well, well!! That’s an awfully mean thing to say to a LADY, you know? And presumptuous! I’ll have you know, I find myself to be extremely gentle and kind. ❞ The glass is returned to the table, empty, as scarred hands move to press together in front of her chest: a mock prayer. ❝ And that’s not true! Here, ❞ Blasphemy forgone in favor of proving him wrong, the same hands move again to pluck the ignored slice of mixed nut bread from the nearly empty plate before generously offering it in his direction. ❝ A gift from me to you. YOU’RE WELCOME. ❞ Her smile grows ever wider, expecting further irritation from her companion as she adds, ❝ Just so you know who to thank, the name’s Nicolette! ❞

So that kind of comment didn’t ( at least visibly ) bother her? As annoying as that is— because he really is trying to get her to leave him in peace— it’s good to know he can throw around words without ( some ) regret. It’s not like Riku cares either way if he offends or not...it’s just preferable if he can give off an impersonal impression without actually hurting feelings. Even if he doesn’t have the greatest first impression of her, he’s not exactly trying to go out of his way to upset her ( well, putting things that way doesn’t really make it that much better ).

( Besides, he really is just speaking his mind at this point— why should he care if she gets upset at him for speaking arguable ‘truth’; no hard facts, but opinion might count for this kind of thing as being basically the same )

Of course, boy is aware enough that some fault at hand is his own, he has always been very conscious of the things that weigh on his shoulders: no one has forced him to act this way other than him, for all the good ( and bad ) it does him. Another contrast between his own curtness and her seemingly blithe demeanor, perhaps that’s why he can lash out so much more easily towards her. Why should he feel guilty about such selfish behavior?

Perhaps, because you’re not—

The Magician:

“The Arcana is the means by which all is revealed. The moment man devoured the fruit of knowledge, he sealed his fate...

Entrusting his future to the cards, man clings to a dim hope. Yes, the Arcana is the means by which all is revealed...

Attaining one's dream requires a stern will and unfailing determination.”

The Magician is associated with action, initiative, self-confidence, manipulation and power (more specifically, the power to harness one's talents).

You prefer being the right-hand men of someone you are close to or you look up to.

A tragedy in your life must have shaped you unto who you are right now and how you live your life. You prefer dynamic and theatrical situations rather than solemn and quiet paces of life. A downside in your character is that you may possibly be perverted most of the time and easily fall in love or have crushes on other people you admire.