shiroi---kumoâ ; . . . .
This man is strange and he doesnât know what to make of him. Heâs ended up at the Comodeen on his own, and he arrived here apparently before the rest of them. Did he see the state he was in when he arrived? He hopes not because rising from the dead to a stranger is always an awkward topic to explain. Is this man the reason that Miss Lyssa insists on hiding? He canât find the girl any where and she only seems to creep out in the middle of the night to get to him - when no one else is around to see her or maybe possibly there to snatch her up and carry her away.Â
Miss Lyssa is who heâs referring to, isnât it? But he was under the impression that Miss Lyssa was a child in Everstiâs care. He had referred to her as such, did he not?Â
âBeg your pardon, Sir but I donât believe I caught your name and can you please clarify to me who you mean by her?âÂ
Heâs finally well enough to be up and about, even if heâs still stuck in the medical wing at Cidâs request. Even so, Miss Lyssa was the only one heâd told the status of this place. In reality, the Unlimitedâs home. They might have been on the move constantly but the people here still welcomed them Home like they never left whenever they returned.
They still had rooms here. They still had places of their own. The Snow White Prince still had a room in which he could keep all of his treasures and a place to rest when they managed to come back here uninjured however rare such an occurrence was. Â
She had been the only one he whispered where to find such a place. The room the Snow White Prince occupied more with things than his own person. A place of pictures and books. Soft blankets and plush pillows. A place for gifts from those who stole his heart in return. That silly plush toy that resembled his mighty mist dragons. A place that holds the things that keep pieces of his heart in them.Â
He had whispered to her where to find it - his room - within this maze of corridors and unfamiliar faces so that she had a place to hide as she wished to because it was becoming more apparent on the daily that the girl seemed to be uncomfortable around everyone but him, and there was only so much he could do stuck in the medical wing, alone. Heâs up and about today though. Permitted to walk around at least a little. Enough to find new books to read and stretch his legs.Â
âI just want to make sure weâre speaking of the same person. I cannot deliver a message if I do not know who itâs addressed to after all.âÂ
He canât help but worry.
He is a parent, after all, he is a father and his daughter is lost in this odd, odd place, this place that its inhabitants had dubbed âWonderlandâ.
(Personally, he thought it anything but a land of wonders; though he tended to think that a world full of things that could very easily end his life should he make one wrong step rather terrifying. Fascinating, perhaps, but terrifying nonetheless.)
Heâs been in this place for a good bit, now. He tries to help where and when he can, do as much as possible to earn his keep. Itâs not like he hadnât done this same song and dance before(though, admittedly, that was when he was quite a bit younger). The best part about it, heâs found, is that he doesnât have to worry about drawing out transmutation circles every time the need to transmute arises. These people donât know alchemy, not his kind of alchemy at least, and thus they also will not have any idea what it means when he doesnât use a traditional circle.
The sense of anonymity is relieving, in all honesty.
At least, it was. Until more people from his world showed up, people from the military, and that was something that could very easily turn the tides against his favor should they figure anything out.
It wasnât all bad, though; he could still salvage this, he just had to be more careful.
At least, thatâs what he thought.
Yes, she looked differentâdifferent clothes than heâd last seen her in, ashes clinging to her skin, bloodâit took every ounce of self-restraint he had left in him to keep from grabbing her up and never letting go again. He didnât need to draw too much attention, and that would certainly do it. He hadnât mentioned having a daughter, before; he hoped that she wasnât here. That she was home, that she was safe.
Of course, things are never that simple.
And she was here, right alongside him in this living hell dressed up as a fairytale.
He had tried to find her afterward, but it was no use, aside from brief glimpses every once in a while. His little girl was always good at hiding when she wanted to and unless she wanted to come out, she wouldnât. And he wouldnât press the issue. If she wanted to hide for a while, then she could. She always left her hiding spot eventually and end the game, and after that he would talk to her. Try and offer some comfort, at the very least.
Until then, however.....he is a bit stuck.
With not much else to do, Axel tries to make himself busy with exploring the Comodeen a little more. He hadnât found the time(or, honestly, the energy) to do so, and now was as good a time as ever.
And so he finds himself coming face to face with someone. The name slips Axelâs mind, but he recognizes that itâs the same person that was brought into the facility when the others arrived; when his daughter had.
Really, he hadnât meant to say the words aloud. Perhaps a part of him still felt bitter in regards to his child avoiding him; and yet most of the time, whenever heâd caught sight of her, it was always near what he had been told was the Medical Wing, where this unfortunate person had ended up. He could connect the dots well enough.
But even so, heâd dug himself a hole and Axel didnât wish to dig any deeper.
â My apologies, â he begins, a tense smile finding a home in his expression. â Thereâs no pardon necessary at all, it was my mistake. I was thinking aloud, there is no message to deliver. In regards to who I amâmy name is Axel. What is yours, if you donât mind giving it? â
He holds out a hand; a gesture of goodwill, an offer to begin their encounter again.Â
At least, he hoped the other would see it as such.
