FAMILY.

@dcnquixctisms​ - Vicenzo ( starter call )

      …This… Wasn’t outside.

       Where had she wandered off to? Perhaps it was a minimal daze of wandering through uncharted territory–everything was new, after all. It was not the familiar chill of the freezing flakes of snow that persisted through thin in thick no matter the season nor time of day…No, the usual crowded sound of often helpful plants did not ring in her head, only silence. Silence aside from the quiet tapping of her feet echoing throughout the halls. Her four ear flaps flicked up and flopped up and down a moment before standing up almost straight, a light vibrate to them. 

       Was it a plant? No no-

      Galapagos hopped up and twisted around, tail flopping against the ground to the side of her as she stared at the…Taller individual. Her lower lip pushing against her upper as a thought to what to say flipped and fiddled around in that head of hers–

      Uuhh…

      “ H hi- ” 

     That sound in an empty hallway. Uncertain in a way, like ghosts bouncing up and down with the softest bump the only indication of their presence. To think something so trivial could unnerve the usual child walking about in any home, much less the vastness of a palace, is unthinkable to the alert. The boy stops, cautious, enough to reach to a sheathed sword but not determined enough to grab it. It’s mental prep; some kind of honed instinct, constantly responding to threats with sincerity regardless of how insignificant the situation truly was. Quiet steps with the tips of feet towards the source of the sound until the young spade happens upon it, stopping just before causing a collision .

     Two sets of ears, animalistic qualities, and enough common sense to be nervous. She was young and unsure. The corridors were long and winding, furnished in extravagant decor and various hanging art. While bland portions were still present here and there, the majority of the place exuded an air of royalty. It comes as little surprise that one unacquainted with its layout would easily get lost. A quirk of the brow at how peculiar she was, nerves eased but not fully relaxed. There was no telling what sort of foul things one could do the moment someone let their guard down in favor of endearing qualities. He wasn’t falling for it ─ even if he was mildly intrigued by the oddities .

@abaddonrighthandofgod​​ prayed:  “ You see, years ago, something happened up there. Something not very nice. ” //for Vicenzo! tim burton film prompts.

     Stories were often told with a bleak ending. Something realistic, perhaps in an attempt to get a rise out of the innocent unaware of harsh realities. Vicenzo was a child born on dreadful grounds. A little blood on the carpet, some pitiful screams. In every door was a different set of traumas, lined up and ready for the willful exposure to the young. To think any living thing could retain a sense of naivety after walking away from such disastrous chaos was unheard of. But such was the way of the family. That merciless tradition was no different in new generations. A calloused mind was something to be weaponized; new, untouched, ready to be shaped in whatever way they saw fit. Though sharp witted, childish tendencies bled through developing senses on a daily basis .

     He was no well-minded boy. Inexperienced but determined, searching for something more, aching to uncover dark secrets tucked away in corners. What could not be taken would be dug up with bare hands. Gathering information was the root of reconnaissance, of which he has spent a year’s time taking advantage of all the pure qualities of his age. But word of mouth from a veteran of the art was much different than an average story. To gain some sense of advantage from an elder, one so capable and well trusted in a hierarchy despite the many days spent away from the family, was valuable. Curiosity bleeds again ─ you could see it in those golden eyes. Yet the collected demeanor suggests an attempt at appearing more mature about it, in hopes it might appeal to his superior who will hopefully, in turn, indulge him in a darker recollection of a tale .

@perncctation​​ prayed:  (Shinza for Cadenza) She's a bit lost, admittedly not /so surprising, seeing as she only came to visit here with her mother. Embarrassed by the whole ordeal, about to leave, she noticed a girl, looking younger than her. Surely, this person wouldn't give her too much problems right? "Excuse me-? I'm looking for Donquixote-san." Best not to give away their relationship, but seeing as this girl was walking around the palace, it was safe to assume she knew? //HI YES FIRST MEETINGS????

     It’s filled with a welcome silence. Comfortable, familiar at first, as every hallway seemed barren of activity. Every lesson in stern tones warn of keeping up defenses, wary of anything unusual even in times where peace is the only tangible presence. No conscious mind paid to dangers during hours in which only the family would roam the palace, focused more on relaxation as previously instructed. Sore shoulders bearing unthinkable weights made even the simple task of holding a book in place difficult. Near small enough to fit end-to-end in palm, spine tucked within a single crease. Not quite open, but not near closing, cover and back completely shielded by the splay of a large hand . 

     Quiet set apart by footsteps, drawing only mild attention to begin. Others still wandered within the walls even after the family scattered for the day. Another memory of yesterday, carefully pressing fingers together to close the book in hand without snapping it shut. A cant of the head upward, settling on the girl fast-approaching with a curious albeit confused expression. Blank for a brief second, skimming along features, no recognition or mention anywhere in the mind. Her face is unfamiliar, much as the sound of trodden footsteps. Nervous tension in a fidget of fingers rubs hardback just enough to make an unpleasant sound. Still, there was no reason given for Cadenza to be so concerned. Perhaps it is an inherited habit from one so distrustful of strangers. The unknown would be cast out in an instant. But there’s something else fluttering about on the edge of alerted thoughts .

     Keep an open mind, a soft voice speaks to her. Be cautious, but be open .

     In comforting tone she heeds, standing at the other’s request with newfound curiosity. Cadenza towers to her full height, book still in hand, staring down with all the patience and collectedness of eminence. How difficult it would be for most to assume her age simply on appearance, being overshadowing the masses with the only indication of her youth being delicate skin and a cherub’s face. A blink ─ just another sign of innocence attempting to appear respectful in front of another .

      ❝ You’re here to see Young Master? ❞ Rumbled like the small, heavy steps taken forward. A moment of thought to the events of the morning, running down occurrences in a smudged, winding list before coming to a relevant input. ❝ Um, I think he said he was going somewhere important today... ❞ Details clouded by a late rise, reminding her body of the strain it went through training the day prior.  ❝ I’m sorry ─ I don’t remember. But I don’t think he’s here right now . ❞

     Someone must have allowed her inside. It would be truly ridiculous to think any normal commoner without connections could simply stroll about the place unsupervised. Her father would never permit such a thing .

“Haven’t you expressed yourself enough already?!”

      ❝ If only it were not so hard to explain this sort of thing to you, Russian. I would do so in a heartbeat. ❞ A sigh. The inevitable would come to bite him later, and it would simply have to come along its own current. ❝ Is it so wrong for me to appreciate the hard-boiled nature of a man? Do you not embrace the kindness in one of your own that shares in your soft, loving nature ? ❞

“No nipple lasers!”

Wasn’t she just beautifully dangerous? Just like her mother, that elegance when presenting herself as deadly and beautiful. It was breath-taking, leaving others in awe, just the very concept of what she had showcased. He took it all in, taking a few steps closer to truly gaze up close to a wondrous weapon. It was like the rainbow, the light bouncing off and being reflected, the shimmering of rainbows and shine covering the entire blade.

Wasn’t she just dedicated and determined to be strong? Just like her father, working and pushing herself further each day, further exploring the limits of herself and her Devil Fruit.

Doflamingo gave a kind smile, a rare given for anyone outside the family, but for those lucky enough to be part of it, a common thing, especially lately, with everything that was going on in the family.

“Fufufu, perhaps we should try it out to see if it is sharp enough? It looks definitely beautifully threatening.”

     A moment of hidden tension, common as ever when presenting rough ideas and new concepts. No visible attention present, yet she feels eyes glance along colors shifting along the palm visible beneath. Clear and frail, perhaps liable to break at the simplest touch. But it is stronger than last time, thick in width but sharpened at its peak. It is almost enough to be considered a stake meant for diving into delicate skin rather than a knife. Naught but a prick would draw blood, imperfect edges leaving only more opportunity for irreversible harm. Serration was so far from the original goal in her mind. But Cadenza found purpose in such serendipity .

     Clutched tighter in hand, almost hesitant. A sense of relief he does not decide to touch the blade in that moment, lest he harm himself on its less defined edges. Glass sinks into tanned skin where previous hesitance clutches too tightly, avoiding similar negative results on her own person, as it always had done since obtaining the power. An inquisitive look melts into something warm at the beginnings of a smile flashed down upon her, corners of lips upturning slowly until bright white sunshine beams up at him with relieved enthusiasm .

     How clement their master could be, like an empyrean guardian .

Wasn’t he just adorable, those puffed up cheeks and that accusatory tone in his voice combined with a child’s anger at not getting what it wanted? Doflamingo was thoroughly amused, forgetting to reprimand Vico for not addressing him correctly in favour of listening to more of the complaint. Ah so that was the problem. If Doflamingo remembered, Pica always complained about how Vico didn’t like him. Seemed like the boy was proving that statement wrong right now, unfortunately Pica was not in sight to witness it. And what a sight it was, an angry child shedding the facade and showing the actual childishness inside.

Doflamingo crouched down, patting Vico onto the head.

“Fufufu, I have a better idea. How about you let your dad go on his mission…. And then you can come with me to watch him? How about it? Don’t you want to spend some time with your young master?”

Doflamingo knew why Pica nor Lulu would allow Vico to go with his father on mission, but Doflamingo reasoned it shouldn’t be a problem if he were to take the child and keep his attention on him. Not that Pica had any right to question his judgement should he not agree with the decision. Besides, it could be useful for Vico to see the Spade Head Executive in action.

     Ever the same boring spiel from the adults. It’s too reckless; too dangerous! As if the young did not have teeth, as if he could not bite and rake and cut with more force than any lowlife. The way he ached to grow in combat was as admirable as it was foolhardy. Finding excuses, impatient tics rolling shoulders and fingers as if desperate to hold and support something dangerous. Never a question that all that impatience burning up veins was passed down from his father. But children did not retain that kind of polished perfection. Only a clean slate, like the front face of an untouched pebble. That which kept stones slumbering did not cage the young and restless .

     A low grunt at lithe fingers planting down into messy locks, displeased by the display of affection. It was condescending, as though no one dared perceive such a wide-eyed child as anything but precious. Embarrassment scrunches the skin of his face, frown deepened with such exaggeration it is nigh impossible to take seriously. It eases on what follows, features smoothing with their usual pudge .

     Sword drawn, merely for display, tip glinting beneath red-tinted light as if shining with a playful malice. Words trill off the tongue in harsh, grating notes, ❝ Oh baby, don’t cry ─ ❞

             ❝      We’re FIVE OF A KIND;                                                           your hand is forfeit .     ❞