🌕｡*ﾟ+.*.｡+

► ◣🔫◥ || Dante had always found himself doing a bit extra for Vanitas. The why was always hidden deep within Dante's soul as the Dhampir held it tightly that it became one of his convictions. He gritted his teeth, exposing his fangs as he glared at the curse bearer.

Almost as if it was instinctive, Dante tilted his head to look over his shoulder to look at Vanitas leaning against the wall that he had been brutally smashed into. That was when Dante called out to Vanitas, "What can I do to help?"

Dante noticed the huff before the hiss in those words that sent a sense of uneasiness up the young man's spine.

The orange hues blinked for a few moments at the quack of a doctor before he turned his focus back onto the curse bearer and charged at them to try to tackle them into the opposite wall - which was nearly a success if it was not for the fact that the curse bearer bit his shoulder.

But luckily for Dante, he hissed at the pain of being bitten without his consent as he just slammed the curse bearer into the wall more, keeping his tight hold on them.

Thankfully, Dante's strength is plenty to keep the curse-bearer still; aside from the wound the dhampir had already sustained. This malnomen in particular was dangerous, but fortunately, didn't include any sort of poison. Dante should be fine. At least, that's what he's betting on.

He's still a little unsteady, but he pulls the Book of Vanitas from his hip as quickly as he can, its black pages flapping with power while Vanitas readies to cure them with his specialty; an inverse operation.

The situation is handled rather quickly after that, the former curse-bearer falling limp in Dante's grip, emotions overwhelming them. Vanitas moves in, trying to uphold that charismatic and kind demeanor he showed all his patients.

"Marlène... 'the graceful star of the sea'..." he says with careful regard. It was a beautiful name, it deserved as such.

... But, when he tries to continue the spiel, pain grips his head again, and he pulls a hand to his face, groaning.

╰ ☾ ☆ * : ･ ⁞ — ˗ˏˋ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 that truly understood each other. Bound by their souls before being bound by the blood of the BLUE MOON; they were the only ones that could know each other's hearts. Not a single person in this wretched world filled with SORROW and PAIN could ever truly emphasize with them; no matter what words of FAKERY they spit out of their acid tongues. That was the way it was. That was the way it should have been. That was the way it has ALWAYS been.

╰ ₊° ☆ . ⊹     ˗ˏˋ So WHY did Brother insist on being so STUBBORN ?

╰ ₊° ☆ . ⊹     ˗ˏˋ Every little mannerism, every little notion, every little bit of pain that his brother tried to hide was just so EASY for him to see. Frustrated, the child STEPS in front of the man; forcing the other to look him in those radiant, azure hues that they BOTH shared. Moving closer only made him FAR more aware of the exhaustion that hung over his Brother's very being. His brother looked TERRIBLE, almost as bad as he did. A frown crossed his face as he SPOKE.

╰ ₊° ☆ . ⊹     ˗ˏˋ ' And I'm not ACCEPTING that answer ! Look at yourself ! You look awful ! You CAN'T keep doing this ! I WANT to help ! '

Instead, he chooses to keep the charade up. He knows he's not fooling anyone, much less the only other person that would no doubt know what was going on.

"You know as well as I do that there's nothing to be done," he starts, "And I'm not going to let you kill me. I can't."

The two's azure eyes stay locked as Vanitas speaks, but he can't help but look away.

His feelings are... complicated, but the last thing he wants is to have Mikhail mirror his own actions. Truthfully, he wasn't sure if Mikhail even could, he'd be killing the last of his family. And, unless that delusion of bringing Luna back was true-- And Vanitas knew it must be a lie, given just who that information was coming from-- Mikhail would simply wind up alone again.

╰ ☾ ☆ * : ･ ⁞ — ˗ˏˋ 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐘𝐄𝐒 ! 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐘𝐄𝐒 ! The child was already practically beaming with DELIGHT; despite the two of them not having pulled out a single ingredient or baking tool yet. That was just how excited he was. How COULDN'T he have been excited ? He was going to be able to spend time with his big brother AND get to bake yummy treats !

╰ ₊° ☆ . ⊹     ˗ˏˋ Now his brother had posed an EXCELLENT question. What SHOULD the two of them bake today ? There were so many options for them to choose from; especially with Brother being as knowledgeable and talented as he was. However ... he did have an IDEA.

╰ ₊° ☆ . ⊹     ˗ˏˋ ' What about the one with the BEAN in it ? I missed that ! '

That wasn't a bad first baking lesson, though. The hardest part about making Galette des Rois was assuring that the filling stayed inside. Everything else was fairly straightforward.

"Alright, we can make Galette des Rois for you," he says. His expression is mostly subdued, but Mikhail's watchful eye would no doubt pick up on the faint smile that tugged at one edge of his mouth.

It was hard not to smile, at least a little bit, with Mikhail so excited. For a moment, he forgets everything that's happened to him. To both of them.

That fades once he's in the kitchen, but it doesn't matter. They had baking to do.

"Get me butter, salt, and eggs, Mikhail," he says, recounting a few of the smaller ingredients. He'd get the larger stuff, like the bags of sugar and flour they'd bought to bake the original one.

sentence starters inspired by various lyrics from random songs on my own personal playlist !!   some lyrics have been slightly modified to be more usable .  change gendered language   &   add context to your needs .  happy roleplaying !!♡

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☾ ☆ . ⊹     ˗ˏˋ    @destinywaltz spoke to the moon  ˎˊ˗     ⊹ . ☆ ☽

╰ ₊° ☆ . ⊹     ˗ˏˋ ' BROTHER ! Brother ! '

╰ ☾ ☆ * : ･ ⁞ — ˗ˏˋ 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐏 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄; shaking him in an attempt to get his attention. Oh, he WOULD get his brother's attention ! He wasn't going to give up at ALL until his brother gave in ! After all, this was ABSOLUTELY important !

╰ ₊° ☆ . ⊹     ˗ˏˋ ' I want to learn how to BAKE like you ! '

"You want to learn to bake?" he parrots, eyes glancing over the smaller boy, who was practically beaming with expectancy. It was hard to resist, even if his older brother would rather be doing something else.

He mulls it over, not sure if Mikhail would be particularly good at following recipes. That was most of what baking was, really. But, admittedly, this was probably the safer option over actual cooking, and he knew full well Mikhail would continue to beg him to teach him until he did.

SHADOW IN LIGHT ;; FAITH IN ALL.

fully lit. Roland Fortis of Vanitas no Carte / The Case Study of Vanitas. read rules for more info. mused by Lapin.

"H...Hopeless...?" There's a faint whimper in his voice, as if he had taken a bit too much to heart, but upon being shown the 'cat' was in fact, simply a pair of fluffy white mittens, his expression would shift from realization to embarrassment.

As much as Vanitas always insisted that Noé and him were simply working together and nothing more, there was something about him looking so dejected that always got under his skin, for a reason he couldn't place.

"They are quite nice. That's still plenty reason to be excited, no?" he says, a small, subtle smile readjusting his features, "They may not be another cat, but they're still a gift for you. You should try them on."

❛ was it you? did you do all this? ❜ for Astolfo; no pressure if low muse for him, though!

At the sound of an approaching voice, Astolfo whirls around with weapon at the ready and a snarl in his throat. The paladin is prepared for a fight, eyes blazing. Upon spotting Vanitas, however, he halts, the tip of his spear lowering by a degree. Not entirely disarmed, but clearly not in a stance intending to launch an attack.

Although this would-be doctor falls well within Astolfo's category of 'foe', Vanitas is not the enemy he is in pursuit of at present; theirs is a fight for another day.

"Hmph--" Perhaps not the wisest of moves considering Vanitas' own martial prowess, Astolfo turns his back to him. The battle-lust that had gripped him seconds ago is already fading into disinterest as he sets his gaze upon the scene around them: corpses, mangled and maimed, litter the room amid a lake of blood. Vanitas thought him responsible for this? Astolfo sneers. Yes, he could cause such carnage, any paladin had the power to, but a closer inspection would show that every body here is that of a human's, a few even children. Astolfo's reputation for ferocity did not extend to children.

While he'd been told that Astolfo hadn't hesitated to kill the illusionary hunters in Gevauden, he knew even Astolfo wouldn't resort to killing human children. And, more obviously, the paladin's spear bore no blood on it when it was quickly pointed his way.

He doesn't flinch at the movement, especially calm once the paladin lowers it ever so slightly. It seemed that the two of them were most likely here for the same reason, and Astolfo had no reason to pick a fight with him over the curse-bearer that was no doubt nearby.

His previously cold demeanor ignites as soon as he sees the chance to get a little fun out of this excursion. He follows suit quickly behind the other man.