And Tomorrow Never Came

      For a few minutes, you can forget. It doesn’t matter that a man was executed for crimes he wasn’t guilty of, and that in your mind, it could have easily been Martel. It doesn’t matter you’re both trapped in this city at the mercy of unaffected men in coats who could wipe your memories, take away everything you love, kill you on a whim. It doesn’t even matter that you’re thousands of years older than she thinks you are, that you’re not her Yuan and you can’t be anymore. For those precious few minutes, all you can think about is the fact that you’re together again, so close you can feel her heart beat. 

It was a terrible thought, but it was nice to have Yuan close, even in this circumstances. I felt like he didn’t want to spend time with her anymore, but this gave her confidence that there must be a reason for that. Martel gave him a solemn nod and a squeeze of the hand before leading him inside.

As the festival finally comes to a close on it’s last day, the most awaited event takes place. A floral background takes center stage in the Fairy Ring. A runway decorated with different types of flowers had been made especially for the occasion. Hours and hours of work had went into making sure that everything was perfect. Bright lights on the right and left side illuminate the runway along with one special circular platform that Marinette stands on, microphone in her hand. She looks confident, ready to speak when her cue is given. As people begin to slowly gather around and wait for the long awaited Fashion Show they were promised, Marinette clears her throat and begins to speak. ❝ Welcome to Hive City’s first ever fashion show! I won’t talk for long, but I’d like to thank Ava for allowing me the chance to do this! It’s always been my dream to be able to host something like this, so it’s a huge honor. It’s not about me tonight, though! ❞ she pauses, and the spotlight goes to center stage, where the curtains hide the awaiting models who were to walk out at any time. ❝ Tonight is about our lovely models! I’m proud of all of them, they worked hard to create something that was all their own just to strut their stuff tonight…so let’s get started, shall we? ❞

      The door opens before you even lower your hand, and there she is. Concern is written all over her face, and a vague part of you feels guilty that you’re the one who put it there. But more importantly, you can see for yourself that she’s okay. It’s enough to make the images of shaky, bloodstained hands and the sound of Mithos’s screams dissipate for now, but you need more than just that right now.

He was here, but he was clearly upset. It should have been expected. Whatever was in that video file, Martel had no doubt that it was extremely graphic, had to have been terrible enough to do this. Any anger she could have at the posted was almost completely smother by her concern for Yuan.

      The thing about gifts was that you had to actually make sure they were delivered. Picking out a rose for Martel was a wonderful idea in theory, but you’ve run into the same problem you’ve had all day – for some reason you don’t entirely understand yet (and it makes you feel shaky and hollow and cold in a way that has nothing to do with temperature), you don’t want to meet her here.

Martel was unable to stifle a giggle, but managed to stop it before it turned into an ugly laugh. Yuan’s expression reminded her of when he first wanted to court her. She hadn’t noticed for quite a while, due to being a bit of an air head at times, but in retrospect it was incredibly obvious. He was always so handsome when he was flustered. However, even with the fluster, he seemed a little uncomfortable with the crowd. She’d best not leave him standing around long

“You really are a fool,” he sighed and resigned himself to that. Well, it’s not like he cared whether it all worked out for her or not. What she said though, about trust, he found himself groaning slightly and shaking his head. Trust is an important thing indeed. However, for someone like him, it was not that easy to trust someone. One could say he was traumatized and it was highly likely that he would never trust anyone ever again. Tolerate, perhaps, but trust? That’s too strong a word for Baltheon.

“I could return the notion, but I’ve come to realize that nobody that I give that title to cares what I think. Which, actually, is the reason I give it to them.” Normally it only extended to people who didn’t heed her warnings about limits and decided to get themselves hurt even more. Normally, she had no time for that type of person, no matter how much she tried to help, it was a two way street. Right now, though, she needed this man to carry the goons for her.

Part of Martel wanted to wait outside for him, but she knew he’d end up worried. Instead, she stayed in doors  Or rather, directly behind the door. She knew it would take him a while to arrive, but she could hardly be expected to wait somewhere else.

The quick reply made Martel freeze. A murder? She knew this city was dangerous, but recording it and sending it people. That was done to send a message, not just for malice. She was uneasy.

Martel had been out for most of today, working on a design for a new dress. She was hardly one of the better designers in town, but she enjoyed the art. It had left her a little distracted and she didn’t notice her phone go off until she heard the jingle she set for Yuan.

“If you can’t finish off a foe in a single strike then you might as well consider yourself dead,” he spoke in a manner that depicted his experience on the battlefield. Obviously, their stances were different on this one. It was most likely that the battles they had fought would be different as well. He was a demon so maybe that contributed to it. He would agree that pride was no place in battle. His actions stemmed more from lack of trust.

“And yet, here I am. I’m hardly a great fighter.” Well, that was a lie. When someone tried to hurt her friends and family, she was terror. Light magic could do some terrifying things to the human body, and ever since she became an angel, it became even more frightening. Despite that, she chose to be a healer, feeling she needed to make up for all the damage she’d done and keep her friends alive.

It wasn’t his thing to apologize. Nor was it a habit of his to show weakness. He tried to avoid that as much as he could given his circumstances. If anything, it was more rooted as to how he did not trust others too easily. That and pride. He was a demon, after all. In the empire, strength is everything.

“Well, you should take it to heart. Healers need to keep people alive, and in a battle, it is often a lot of people they need to tend to at the same time. For me, I’m treating as many a forty at a time. They have little choice but to believe a patient about their pains. Lie and it could be your life you’re wasting and I don’t like when my patients die. Remember, pride is poison on the battlefield.”

Reblog and fill in with details about your muse as if they were a character in a Dating Sim. (Inspired by Huniepop)

     hearing thanks is not entirely foreign toward the woman herself, but for the reason itself is one she has never been praised for. That something as minuscule as kindness must be appreciated in such a manner than how often it should be displayed. There is a small nod in turn toward her comment of such, though the maiden of France does not relish in it. Rather, she is merely gladdened at all that she can do some form of kindness in this city the best she is able, chuckling ever so slightly at her further comment of being a burden.

When she had first heard her brother was living with a stranger, and not just a stranger, but a human, Martel had been concerned. Even after meeting her, the girl hadn’t been sure that Jehanne really was doing this out of kindness. She was so used to ulterior motives, but it was becoming more and more clear that there were none. That this was truly how the French woman was. It was a get relief, and the green haired woman felt herself relax a little.