stabby stab stab.

i really want to hone a postcanon verse that is definitely different from how noblesse ended because i still think it’s nonsense

JA;FKLSD OK BUT WHO????

UR NOT TELLING ME ITS RASKREIA???

IM GONNA FUCKING

spoilers for the end of noblesse (minus epilogue next week) under the cut but does it really fucking matter

“raskreia has decided to save the humans from the missles” makes it sound like she sat for a very long time going hmmmmmm and then decided finally “yeah no lets not let like All of Humanity die”

“raskreia has decided to save the humans from the missiles”

“she further request gejutel to guide the future generation”

“the reporters feel as if the atmosphere is some kind of farewell”

     But whose loneliness had been greater [ was still greater? ]? The one of his very own, now to be permitted to return, to see those important to him, to engage with them once more [ to indulge in the means of love he long thought lost? ] or the ones of the former Princess’ own? Now to be reminded that all those who had formerly been quite so close to her, would look upon her with reverence? With adoration? With the abilities to protect, even that she feels so unworthy of it all? Ragar supposes, only spending seconds to ponder over the topic, that Raskreia’s forced solitude was far more monumental than all those five hundred years he had spent alone.

    “To leave you those behind who could aide you, protect you, is not a means of implying your lack of strength or suitability, my Lord.” It truly had been not. Of course, himself and many others [ the traitors sure amongst them ] had lamented the feelings that, by all necessary and turns of the tide, the Princess had been far too young to step up to this reign [ such a daunting task and the former Lord had even thought to give it to Sir Raizel, in lightening his burden from being a Noblesse— ]. It’s a hauntingly bizarre drama unfolding in front of his eyes, and he could do nought else but sigh upon the picture perfect elegy chiming out with song of sorrows and despair. And how he would not just try and want to soothe it—

    —and had no right to step further than he did at all.

    “Sometimes, it is more useful to leave behind someone who feels so unfinished, so inadequate in their own life, in their own person, to elicit their whole capacity, as if we all had kept you company through all means and times.” An old sagacity that might feel so truly, so utterly, devastating in the former Clan Leader’s truthful way of speech. So soft, gentle in the way he announces and eyes never leaving her pacing form. It was something he so direly wanted to soothe, like done just all those centuries ago, in kneeling in front of her despairing soul [ a child like his own, from the first day on he had seen her as nought else— ]. But maybe, surely as much, he would need to elaborate evermore.

    Would need to shed light upon those things only himself had the knowledge to offer up. To make her understand as much as the young Highness was only willing to. [ Little though, it seemed to be ]. “My children knew nothing about Ragnarok.” Truth and even his youngest had not known of his brother’s ungrudgingly acceptance of the assassin’s own near selfish choices [ did he loathe himself for it—? yes ]. “But indeed, I knew about its incomplete state. I knew about the doings behind it, about the necessities behind it.” And was not the splitting of his very own soul weapon the result of a man mingling with it upon Ragar’s very wish? Would that be needed to be brought forth, he shall comply and just answer. But not everything was done by now, not every worry already calmed. And he couldn’t help that faint and near feeble smile, couldn’t help that it rose upon lips, diminished seconds later before he bows his head in honour, near worship. “Are you that concerned - my Princess?” It breaks the second he thinks about it closely. It breaks in ways that were their very own to behold. “My dear Princess, are you really wanting to question, what I did with all my heart?”

    Was it worth it? “Yes, yes it was.” For it had brought him solitude, the want and need and desperate desire to be close again to those he loves and adores, but now? To be brought back to them all, by forced need? Yes. He had fulfilled at least a part of his vows. “Never you should think yourself unworthy. Never shall you think your Father’s decisions to be of fault. All happens for a reason, and if I shall be here to guide you from now on, then be reassured - it was worth all that happened for me to stand at your side.”

A Lord should be prepared to face all adversity. To rid themselves of emotional burden, to be less subjective and much more magnanimous -- yet she would be just the opposite, drowning herself in hatred and vengeance, allowing it to fester inside her very soul -- even the soul weapon left behind to her had rejected her because she in turn did not place her faith in it.

So much imperfection. As the heir to the throne, she had thought herself ill-prepared but willing. Known for her impassiveness yet strictly loyal sense of duty to her Father, never able to call him by that name, the distance she placed between him and herself by only seeing him as the Lord -- this was supposed to be preparation for her detachment.

All for nothing, everything for naught -- only with a heavy head can she turn towards Ragar Kertia, attempting to seek even a fraction of condolence. It did not imply her weakness? Yet how could it be -- had the Lord before her father left behind vessels from the previous generation to serve him? They had not.

How could her capacity be elicited? She no longer had the means to become fully awakened. If anything, capacity could only be hindered more, a waste of Ragar’s presence, a waste of Gejutel’s advising. Yet she could not regret it either, she did not regret it -- she had done everything with careful contemplation before coming to a necessary answer. If... if it was not power that she would become adept at, then...

It would all cease, her musings and her listening, once he uttered that nostalgic title. The reverence of his kneeling form, the gentleness of the voice that surrounds his very words -- it should not be like this.

❝ Ragar Kertia. ❞ Steel-like frost coats the timbre of her voice. Yet for all of her broken beliefs, for all the frustration she had been feeling and the relief that swept up her anger, the tone with which she utters the former family leader’s name is more resigned. ❝ Raise your head. ❞

An order coolly bitten out. Fingers curl and uncurl in her palm before finally settling into a fist, glaring at him with glowing crimsons. He cannot be blind to the sorrow that the name elicits from her, the immense despair that shakes her very core.

❝ I will question it because I am your Lord. ❞ Even if mind would flash back to those carefree days, of gliding across the floor of a regal ballroom to bring her father’s jaw to the ground, or to clash of blades in training bouts where many hours was spent to hone those skills -- those days were gone. ❝ You will not call me by that again. I am no longer... ❞

Was this his intention, to distract her from the brooding atmosphere? Now all she can do is focus on his last words, and of course they would be nothing but assurance, a vow to serve the Lord she is now -- a dangerous gamble. At that realization, she turns away and lets out a huff.

❝ Allow me to guess, was it Gejutel who taught you to use such flattery? ❞ Ah, but this was a trait her old mentor held even back then. She may be unrelenting, even still stubborn in accepting all the words he had just told her, but for now, exasperation will be concealed. ❝ Very well. I hear your will and I shall respect it. ❞ Could she handle it though, being called a Lord by him once more? She could barely handle Gejutel, and if the presence of the two from the previous generation would continue onward, perhaps a different title should be created.

     As welcome as Raskreia’s presence is, E finds themself bracing themselves as she approaches–for what, they’re uncertain as she clearly means them no harm (she never has, has she? One of few.). Yet the reaction is involuntary, and as she stops before them, almost no space between two, E has to make a conscious effort for his body to release some of its tension. They hadn’t noticed how tightly their own fists were clenched until they think to uncurl the digits. 

     It’s during this enforced cooldown that the Lord places her arms around them and E’s thoughts and efforts grind to a halt.

     Of course, they know what a hug is. They’d received and even returned a few embraces during their initial introduction to human interactions. They didn’t dislike affectionate gestures either–the sensations had always been so welcomingly foreign from what they’d known before–but they hadn’t been much for initiating either. E’d preferred the use words and other gestures and Raskreia had been much the same.

     Of course, that’s not to say she’d never shown them physical affection before, occasions like Valentines coming to mind where she’d given them a kiss and mussed their hair. Presently though it just seemed so…surreal. Even with all the restraint E knows she’s using, the embrace is firm and warm and grounding to the point that E isn’t entirely sure what to do with the comforting act after being so long without and having their mind still firmly set in survival mode.

     But before the thought to reciprocate the gesture can fully form, she’s apologizing and pulling away. Her hand is on their head in another familiar gesture as she asks after their wellbeing and E’s chest suddenly feels outrageously tight. Whether that was her intention or not, the acts are soothing and prompts a mix of exhaustion and something else stemming from that knot in their chest to begin snaking their way through their veins. (They know enough now to recognize it as some emotion, but naming it is beyond them right now.) But relaxing now isn’t an option because the area is still exposed and no matter how powerful Raskreia is, getting caught and potentially inciting a conflict here and now is not a favorable outcome. So they take the smallest of steps back, just enough to duck away from her worried touch, inhale deeply to force back the tired ache in their limbs to instead focus on answering her.

     “You have nothing to apologize for, Lord,” They begin, brow pinching in confusion as they realize just how strange it is for her to feel the need to apologize for something so far out of her control. “As for any injuries–” they pause for a moment to take a mental stock of their body’s condition. Adrenaline is a powerful tool, and E hadn’t stopped since to take stock of their condition since they’d seized the first opportunity to flee ages ago. Now that they do, they list off the important information as they had been trained to–concise and efficient. “Nothing life-threatening or crippling.” They’d chosen their moment so as to avoid as much conflict as possible and it shows. Everything else done had time to heal before they’d escaped. No use in bringing it up now.

     “Dehydration, malnourishment, and exhaustion are primary stressors, but again, not life-threatening.” Just dizzying, now that the adrenaline wasn’t making his body’s needs secondary to everything. “I wouldn’t recommend remaining in the vicinity for long–thus far I’ve evaded any pursuers, but remaining exposed as we are is likely to attract unwanted attention.” And if they stay stationary for much longer, that knot in their chest that still hasn’t lessened may make it even more difficult to resist enjoying this reunion here and now.

There’s a certain amount of willpower she undergoes, a dull realization, to tell herself that rejection is not their intent when they dodge the last moment of her head-touching gesture. Still, the now lone hand left hovering in the air pauses, a bittersweet smile creasing upon tired lips before her fingers curl back into her palm and she lowers her arms at her sides. There’s a time and place for everything. So she awaits his next words, silence brewing just as the wind continues to bite into her skin.

Their assurance is touching. Despite the fact that it would take much more persuasion to convince the Lord that this falls out of her responsibility. She is no fool -- restrictions placed upon the throne that could have been written out due to her current seat... but if she left Lukedonia so often, it would be susceptible to attack from the outside. That fine line between protecting her people and protecting those outside of it, when could it be crossed?

Pulling herself out of her musings to continue to listen to E, who ( a bit in an unsettling manner ) sounds as if they’re merely describing a report. Old habits die hard, she supposes, and given where they have been, she cannot fault them for that. Still, that hardly deters the subtle rise of power, a burst of rage she wills back to withdraw into her body. She is no stranger to how the Union treats their subjects, but that hardly can settle the temper the Lord is known for.

❝ Do not worry. Whoever follows us, dies. ❞

Raskreia has to turn away from E for a moment, at first glance, it seems like a guise to check their surroundings. However, this was her effort to continue submerging all the fury bubbling up from her core, only fueled by hearing the condition E is in. Her fangs threaten to grow, an ominous swirl of energy circling her body, and perhaps if this was the past her, they would have easily been discovered due to the unrestrained power seeping from her body.

But all in that second it washes down immediately, almost as if they’re in the eye of a storm. She knows what’s good for them and this is not it. Though she has the utmost confidence that she will be able to eliminate any pursuers, it’s in their best interests to avoid conflict unless necessary.

A heavy exhale slips past, with Raskreia turning back to E, donning the impassive face she’s known for. Yet underneath that stone-cold exterior is barely concealed anger. Ragnarok is summoned again, and because there’s no need to make a show of power now, her soul weapon’s summon is quieter than usual. ❝ I will carry you. ❞

It’s the first time she’s given an order, and the fast realization makes her regret it. She could bark out commands, but to E, this was unnecessary. Desperation may be the driving factor behind the heavy suggestion, but how could she be any different from those people if she didn’t give them a choice? ❝ ... Forgive me. I meant to say, I wish to carry you. You are exhausted and it would not hinder me in any way. But if you wish to hold yourself, then I will protect you from the back. ❞

Truthfully, it knew better than to remain stationary anywhere in this city–anywhere in this country, even. Its bout of freedom (true, fascinating, maybe even joyous freedom) however short-lived, had been spent in this country, making it the first place agents and sentries would think to find it.

But its body needed a break, however brief, from all the running. This is the only reason it had stopped. Not because on another roof, in a different time, with a view not unlike the one before it now, its life had drastically changed. It was necessity that made it pause, not nostalgia.

However, Deja-vu is quick to set in as it’s abruptly aware of a presence joining them on the roof it previously hadn’t detected with its telepathy.

E’s fight or flight instincts kicked in immediately as it faced the newcomer–only for it to fade in favor in favor of inert shock as it saw who had joined them on the roof. Much like the first time, she stands before it, the picture of Noble elegance save the somewhat uncharacteristic look on her face–a microexpression mirroring the disbelief E’s itself is feeling.

For all the training and habits i–they had fallen back on in the name of survival, for all the emotions and human practices E had discarded (hidden, to keep them from being forcibly stripped away), the walls it had built were already falling away at the sight of her.

     Their face hadn’t lost its carefully neutral expression in spite of the surprise and relief. But their voice is almost too soft from disbelief as they call their answer to her, guarded stance slowly relaxing.

“Raskreia?”They had–a ridiculous number of questions about her presence, really, as encountering the Lord outside of Lukedonia should be a rarity. But all they can do is nod at her question. “Yes. It’s–I’m back.”

She could not care less about the image presented to them. The dignity her essence was made of could crumble down in a minuscule moment. Their response is all that triggers the Lord’s pensive movements, strides made in large movements until she’s millimeters away. In the back of her mind, she does tell herself to proceed with caution ( who knows what E has been through all these months ) but she discards prudence for -- comfort.

❝ You are back. ❞ Repeated version of their words, a facet of her disbelief, before trembling arms gently move to wrap around their ( smaller, thinner ) frame. For all the anger and relief that rises within her soul, she must restrain her power for the sake of this action. Her unrestrained strength held the possibility of harming them ( that was the last thing she ever wanted ). Still, with the amount lightness in her embrace, it seemed akin to the Lord holding glass.

Admittedly, this is a gesture Raskreia herself is not quite accustomed to. Physical affection scarcely used ( she preferred words of affirmation to give or receive ), but there were moments where she could let herself go to indulge in the security of touching another person ( and this is one of them ).

❝ I am sorry. ❞ Taciturn voice slips past, laced with regret and concern and veiled rage. There is only one place she knows that would have restrained E, kept them away from the radar of even the most efficient human in the universe. That they could disappear, even far from her watch, there were capable people here she trusted to watch over them. And it was not that she blamed them, no, but... she should have been here before. ❝ I am glad... you are back. ❞ Safe could be a word, but whatever E had went through in this past time -- she did not know.

@soulcleft

D-5 Has gone downhill ever since that fight in South Korea. It really has, if all members were here, he wouldn’t have to bargain for the lives of stupid union members who couldn’t be patient enough to get the signal to attack. Being the closest one has to a high agent, Lukedonia is… massively scary. And gaudy. 

funny enough the term gaudy comes from the artist name itself. 

 “This was a unauthorised assault by our forces to Lukedonia borders.” meetings… are so dull. but needed. this was a bargaining of the captured forces of the union. 

Why was it that these humans thought the nobles could be taken for fools? Rolling of eyes would be a kind gesture she could have done were she anyone lesser, however, countenance remained stoic as ever. The Union is privileged to be graced with the presence of Lukedonia’s Lord, not many gained this rare opportunity. However, given the difficulty her family leaders were given in the initial process, perhaps there was no other alternative.

❝ I wonder when the Union gained the audacity to think that an assault, even failed, could go without consequences. ❞ They really thought she was an idiot, huh? Even if it was “unauthorized”, it was still a prospective plan of the Union. If they thought she was going to go into this meeting without having mind-controlled the information out of the captured agents, well, they were wrong.

She had known loss and hardly any victory. Having relinquished care of that child to the inhabitants of South Korea, she should have known separation could have been a possibility. The Lord did not blame anyone but herself for that day; she should have been responsible, should have been more skeptical of the low activity of the Union. And now as time went on ever since that ruptured bond, searching for their whereabouts whenever she could -- 

-- How ironic would it have been to discover E on a rooftop not dissimilar from their very first meeting?

Yet she could not believe it, failure to process overwhelming her senses. The arm wielding Ragnarok dropped, the soul weapon dissipating as she made her descent to the roof slowly. Lips would part with no words to escape, and as the night wind blew her hair about her face, only a disquieted expression would fill the blankness of her face.

@drouklazher

A rarity, that is, the relaxed form of the heir lurking among the shadows. The spotlight would one day shine on her, having to deal with the attention and scrutiny of all upon her form. For the moment though, she will relish in the rare solitude, observing the festivities with an amused ( albeit veiled ) gaze. The Lord is the person currently attracting the attention of all those in attendance. Whether it be facilitating conversations ( ah, poor Krasis, taking the Lord’s teasing words seriously once more ) to playing various games taken from the human world to test ( Edian seems to be dead set on obliterating all the apples on Urokai’s head ).

Imagine, the most powerful beings in the world, being made to indulge in strange activities that would otherwise lower their noble dignity. Then again, with their talents, they could make a simple game look quite enviable, no? Head tilted to the side, Raskreia’s gaze continues to change from person to person. Having gotten rid of that shyness long ago, what prevents her from joining in the activities is a simple matter of observation. 

However, it would not be long til the Lord would do his best to bring his daughter out from the shadows. A mischievous twinkle, obvious schemes hidden by good will, a dancing segment of this ‘party’ would be starting. Though not directly called out by the Lord, the princess is aware of the hidden message detailed in the Lord’s announcement.

Ragar’s approach is not too surprising; of course the Lord would wish to see the outcome of the lessons imparted upon his daughter, with due respect from the Kertia family leader. It is not hard to allow a thin smile to tilt upon her lips. Despite the stern demeanor many associated with Ragar Kertia, it is interesting to think about his approach in a different way. Important note: as soon as the elder bowed, she could see the Lord’s countenance change.

@souleclipsed

Raskreia had not realized that Yuna was so heavily invested into chairs. Did she want to try spinning on one? She would have thought that her friend would already be aware as to this strange ritual humans partook in, especially in an office sitting. However, the next word that followed, ‘kissing’, had stopped the Lord in her tracks.

Hmm... that’s not right.

❝ The act of kissing is reserved solely between people in a courtship or otherwise deeper romantic relationship. What does dating have to do with that, Yuna...? ❞ That was concerning. Did humans suddenly add another action in addition to spinning in chairs, going shopping, eating food, and sparring? God, the human world and its changes was going too fast for the Lord to even process all the minuscule details. If such an intimate act was involved in a casual relationship, how should she take it?

A word that was scarcely used to describe nobles would be fun. Taciturn and traditional in their ways, there only laid one exception to that commonality among the red-eyed race ( and that would be Karias ). However, Raskreia can only take it as a compliment; what the children called the time spent with the Lord and the Noblesse was ‘fun’. A personal adjective the Lord never really used, but she understood the notion of it.

However, as Yuna lifts a finger and directs it towards one of her family leaders, Raskreia tilts her head slightly. An eyebrows arches in puzzlement as she follows the direction of the accusation. ❝ You phrase it as if it is a bad thing. ❞ The uncertainty which laced itself with Yuna’s words does not go unnoticed. ‘I guess’ is all too common a phrase used by people who were unsure of the situation. ❝ Ryo Asuka is… ‘fun’, as you say. He introduced the sacred art of spinning in a swivel chair. ❞

How Yuna could see it as a ‘questionable’ thing is still something that puzzles the Lord. ❝ My nobles are fine. ❞ Probably. Raskreia enjoyed the eccentricity, no matter how offensive Gejutel may find them.