𝕕𝕒𝕞𝕖

Sure, he could argue at this point that this whole space had become his library too, but unfortunately, he was still stuck on studying the decaying surface of the diary in his hands.

He didn't even have to open it to know what happened next: how, once they had reached Atlantis, the people were so wary of these strange visitors (and rightfully so), and yet there had been the kind Princess Kida, who gladly welcomed them into their city. But her parents, the King and Queen, were also greatly suspicious of their visitation, thinking their visit an omen---

And they had been right.

Xigbar's---no, Luxu's---prediction about Rourke had been correct, and the cruel man had brought the Darkness with him---and with that Darkness, the suffering, tragedy, and death that nearly swallowed the city.

And even though, in the end, the Light of the Princess had prevailed, the Darkness had still touched the innocence of the land---and Luxu had not prevented it, even though he had had his own share of suspicions. And yet, he ignored it---chose to believe that he had to be wrong, and that everyone venturing toward Atlantis was good, and that he was simply being foolish.

There rose in Xigbar, burbling in the pit of his being, something that he had sought to shove down---to never allow it to touch him again. That he had shed it after all these centuries, that it was all behind him---

Regret.

He realized his grip on the book was tight enough to cause the already tattered leather to crack further---and he forced himself to thrust it back onto the bookshelf, the movement sloppy and unfocused, wedging it between two other books before snatching his hand away.

Xigbar didn't hate---had been able to push that emotion down, too---but he hated, now, the loss of his composure. The way his chest expanded, then was forced to let out a deep sigh---

But, perhaps, despite these slips, he could still right himself---just enough. Just enough.

"Dude sounds like a sentimental sap. Makin' choices based on his emotions, all willy-nilly," and he turned his back entirely to Aqua, throwing out an exaggerated shrug. "Anyway, it's probably not even an actual diary---just some old novel that's like a fake autobiography. People do that sometimes."

Then, most definitely regaining his balance (at least, he was sure he was), "C'mon, there's way more interesting stuff in here, anyway. I know ya got some books about, like, lascivious pirates or whatever, yeah?"

❝ . . . ❞

In contrast to the mouthing off and restless gestures of Xigbar, Aqua had fallen to silence keeping still where he left her. Her eyes only barely focused on the weary spine of the book that he hastily put away, ruminating on its contents and — how he could so readily dismiss it. Whether it was real or not, there was one very important takeaway she held close.

❝ I think he sounds kind. ❞

Kind in the way that had been so lost over the years. Key society had become such a sterile thing, living in fear of the dark, that even her own heart had grown an icy sheet. It was all she knew, after all... but much in the way that the anonymous writer had been burned, time and time again, by the deceits that dark hearts had to offer, perhaps so too did the masters before her... and consequently, herself.

She touches her sternum, feeling for her heart.

❝ And intelligent, and sensitive, curious, and— ❞ She keeps going, even though he attempts to move the direction out of that way. Even managing not to get flustered by where he tried to take it. ❝ —and lonely. ❞

The leather was worn and frayed---the pages, mottled with water stains, and portions of the ink---a scrunched, purposeful cursive---blurred. The corners of some of the parchment had been bent, tattered, torn.

Yet, despite its weathered state, it was still nonetheless readable---a piece of history.

A piece of his history.

Xigbar considered disposing of it as soon as he found it in Bluebird's secret library---shoved behind several hefty historical texts, as though buried underneath so many other tomes to keep this particular one a secret. How it could have come to be here was certainly mystery, but all he could really focus on was the present---the fact he had found it at all.

Maybe he would simply steal it away, tear it apart---burn it.

These parts of him he considered long gone.

But, somehow, he found himself actually opening it---the pages fluttering, his gaze lingering, despite his subconscious protests.

Reading it.

Remembering it.

I've met a man named Milo Thatch during my latest arrival to a new world, a timid yet incredibly intelligent man enamoured with this strange land he calls "Atlantis." He has this diverse--and, admittedly, somewhat eccentric---team of experts to aid him in his endeavors, seeking out this land, in the hopes of finding a long-forgotten culture submerged there. After a series of creatures I've come to learn are called "Heartless" arrived to seemingly stop their progress tunnelling into the earth and I managed to stave them off, they insisted I could be an asset to their journey. My Master told me that I should allow my heart should guide me, and I realize that there must be something here, amidst these people, that could

He stopped reading.

Flipped several more pages in.

We've decided to take a breather, and there is something about Rourke that deeply troubles me. I'm not sure exactly how to articulate it fully, but I sense a Darkness in him. His intentions do not seem like Milo's, whose interest is from such a pure standpoint---one that seeks knowledge, to understand the past so as to assure the future. No---even though he seems like he seeks to hide it, I can see it: Rourke's intentions seem like they are rooted in cruelty, his own self-interest above all else in his mind. Darkness of the Heart---how it infects people with such malice, steeps them in desires so foul. Turning them against others around them, even if those others are innocent. I still don't understand it, when the Darkness

A sound pricked his ear, and the book snapped closed within his grasp. He had been so deeply focused on his own ancient scrawl that he'd, for once, not honed in on the arrival of another person into the library.

The only other person there would ever be, of course.

In her many travels she'd come across this little marvel. A snapshot of a time long passed. An enigmatic figure on a long and lonely journey, who — at first — interested her on the basis of learning secrets of the past, and perhaps even the secrets that could provide reason to this cosmic battle all key bearers grappled with. At some point, though, she had to contend with the fact her hoarding of this piece to herself was less to do with her studious desires, and a personal fascination with the mystery author.

On the former basis — that of potentially valuable information — she really ought to try to get the thing out of Xigbar's possession, their little truce be damned, but... the same way that he had been immersed in reading, did Aqua still herself to observe. Wondering if he, too, may have been enthralled by the letters on those time battered pages?

FWAP! Aqua flinched dramatically when he snapped the book shut.

❝ Sneaking? Well it's my library. ❞ The retort is halfhearted, deprived of her usual bite. Admittedly, she was a little taken aback by how jumpy he seemed — although, knowing him, his words could be perceived as his usual attempt of humor. Still... her eyes fall to the raggedy bindings under his thumb, silence holding her for a moment.

Every time Xigbar thought he had caught little Blue Bird at her most vulnerable, she would yet again prove that there were far more layers buried underneath than that hoity-toity exterior---some of which were turning out to be utterly delightful in terms of sparking Xigbar's more mischievous side.

So, in all honesty, he had actually been lingering there for a while now, watching every miniscule ministration she made---it was what he did best, after all. Linger. Wait. Observe. And how she had brought his discarded coat against her face---

Well, of course he was feeling so very smug in catching her doing something so blatantly naughty. But it wasn't just a smugness by its own---it was combined with some sort of intrigue. For why---oh why---would she do such a thing...?

"Am I interrupting something?"

And the way she jolted at his voice only further cinched in place that she was definitely doing something she knew she shouldn't be, retreating back into her typical demure behavior---what he knew well by now to be a nothing more than a silly little mask.

He grabbed the cloak from her once it had been extended towards him, but instead of obliging her suggestion, merely flung the coat over his shoulder with a dramatic flair so that it would drape there, his bare torso still proudly on display, free hand moving to his hip as he cocked it to the side.

❝ That's ridiculous! ❞ Although the denial came a little too rushed — desperate, even.

There are not enough time spells in her arsenal that could undo this. And what a tragedy that was. She'd like nothing more than to stop herself from doing something so foolish — but she, herself, couldn't dare to reason why it had happened at all to begin with. Why couldn't she simply be normal when it came to him? What was it about this terrible man that made her act in opposite to the words she usually had for him...???

Perhaps he was the one with spells, and she was suffering the brunt of their effects.

❝ And what would you know about what's becoming or unbecoming of a master, anyway? You don't take anything seriously. You're still walking around without a shirt! ❞ And she is trying earnestly not to stare. A few chaste glances were stolen before she ultimately had to turn fully away, exposing the redness of her ear.

"Yes, dear. The captain. MY captain." She says all too sweetly despite the piqued undertone that Pit dare forget his place.

Aqua's hesitation does not go unnoticed.

The corners of Palutena's lips twitch. She notes every subtle change in her guard dog. The way her gaze flickers away, her hesitation, even the way she becomes elusive towards her gentle touch. It fails to escape the Goddesses' all-seeing perception. It meant that Aqua was hiding something from her.

Whatever it was, she was sure to find out.

She doubts Aqua's words, but does not draw her away. Quite the opposite, in fact, that Palutena uses the woman's love and loyalty as a weapon. Wielding and molding her into whatever she wants as she sees fit.

"You have nothing to worry about. It is he that I worry about." She feigns a careful kind of sadness, a pout forming ever so delicately from her bottom lip. Her brows crease and she looks solemnly to the side, as if searching what cannot be found.

She sighs wistfully.

"He didn't appreciate my words at the time, and I fear we may have gotten into a bit of a disagreement. I dare say, it may have even been my fault." She says, rather truthfully given the fact that Aqua hadn't been present at the time. She did not witness what words had been exchanged.

She turns back to her guard, the hand on Aqua's chin smoothing to her cheek, cupping it in her warm embrace. Her touch kind and gentle. Forgiving. Her thumb rubs at the blush on the woman's cheek and Palutena marvels at how easily mortals can flush. So sweet. So rousing in the way she has the Keyblade Master wrapped around her ethereal finger.

The possessive lilt to Palutena's words are not lost on Aqua. But somewhere in her all to eager to please heart, she believes this to merely be an expression of acknowledgement in its truest form. After all, what is it to be subservient than to relinquish control of the self?

The master, in all her sad and lonely years deprived of that guiding hand she missed so dearly, could not help but to fall steadfast into the embrace of such words. Yes... hers. Pit was Palutena's. Aqua had hoped, earnestly, that there was a place too in the Goddess's palm... even for a starved and mangy soldier like her to eat from.

Still. That hesitation. It lingers. Perhaps there is one thing more precious to Aqua than to serve. Bonds. Connections. Friendship. Pit was her friend, wasn't he? But... couldn't both of those desires meet half way?

❝ I... I am so sorry. I wasn't being honest with you. ❞ She caves, swallowing down a prickly lump. ❝ I'm just so worried about him. When he was here, he was so... different. ❞

Perhaps he was just wrong. Yes, of course! He was making a mistake. Even friends would do that. And Palutena – she would know best. She could take this fear and doubt away from her heart. She could fix that worrisome face from the captain's face that haunted Aqua.

❝ I am just so worried about him. He wouldn't tell me what he was about to do, only acting like he was going to do something drastic... like it was the last time he would ever speak with me again...! Hearts! I should have stopped him! ❞ Her eyes raise, their pools rippled with quaking emotion.

#GODDESSXOFLIGHT ▻ "You shall be purified!" #IKAROSXFLIGHT ▻ "Great Palutena, victory is ours!"

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# PALUTENA ┊# PIT ;

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Independent and Selective Roleplay blogs based on the Kid Icarus || Of Myth and Monsters series. Written by Ghosty and Daedalus. Mirror writers. Canon-Divergent! Heavily Greek Mythology inspired and p l e n t y of creative liberty. Disclaimer: Mature Topics ahead; triggering content and dark themes. Must be 21+ to interact.

@ Art Credit to Jay.

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"Ah, there you are, my dear." Palutena, in all her otherworldliness, bestows her presence upon the blue bird.

Her bright luminescence, emanating power and ethereal authority, dims to a subdued glow. So she may preserve the mortal eyes of the woman before her, she appears as any other mortal would. Only the subtle feeling of electricity in the air gave hint to her true might.

Her feet find the plush grass below, her gallant scepter in hand pressing into the dirt at her heels.

Rarely does she leave her home in the heavens, but her appearance on the mortals plains was a special case. One that involved meeting with her favorite devotee.

All around her, the power of her might smothers, and nature settles, returning to its former stillness. Her hair, flowing and majestic, falls to blanket her shoulders and down her back, framing her face as she smiles pleasantly at the other woman.

"Tell me, my song bird." She reaches out, no trepidation in touching the other as she tenderly cups Aqua's chin with her index tucked underneath, tilting it upward so she may peer into those lovely eyes as blue as the skies from whence her kingdom came from.

❝ Lady Palutena. . . ! ❞

Like usual she cannot stop from spilling formalities, despite the goddesses jestful urges otherwise. Aqua drops to her knee, in subservient fashion, and lowers her eyes for fear of tarnishing the deity with her needy gaze. A tainted mortal didn't deserve even to ogle, but that did not stop her frightful greed that lapped up every curve the moment she was permitted—

—the fingers at her chin was not the permittance she expected. But it did well to melt her all over.

Shimmering babyblues look upon the goddess, with all but words expressing gratitude to even mar her soft fingers with her used up mortal flesh. She's just about ready to let any information leap from her tongue before Palutena even says it, but the moment that question does come. . . her throat catches.

❝ The captain? ❞ the languid repeat, and Aqua's biggest mistake for it would give it all away. Her gaze drifts.

Never would she ever want to lie to the benevolence before her, but... she can remember, how uncharacteristically somber Pit had been when he ushered her to let him do something on his own. Even though she fought with all her might to get him to cue her in, he insisted it was of dire importance. And though he didn't outright say it... there was this frightful little moment that she made the connection.

He wasn't telling Palutena what he was doing either.

She looks at the goddess again, her blood running cold at the realization that she took too long to answer, and that she was struggling to please her goddess. She feels dirty in her own skin, and wishes that she could escape Palutena's touch— if only to save this woman she loves from being infected by her sin.

erm actually-- ❝ With the way you drink I wouldn't be surprised that your liver is deficient in the /real/ Vitamin A. ❞ 🤓🤓🤓