#6uppet

“ It must be awfully quiet in that chest of yours; no noise, no beating, hmm ━━ being so heartless sounds like it comes with it's luxuries. ”

"U-Um....   hello?"   wary   gaze   lingered   on   the   stranger,   brows   furrowing   ever   slightly.   "what   brings   you   to   bjartr   woods?"   Though   he   hadn't   committed   any   ill   act   to   cause   Sigrika's   unease   -   .....   she   couldn't   help   but   feel   he   wasn't   someone   to   cross.   --   It   seemed   the   soliskin   she   was   playing   with   felt   the   same   way. 

 The   moment   they   laid   eyes   on   him   they   all   jumped   behind   the   royan   girl,   acting   as   if   they   were   frightened   children   hiding   behind   their   mother.

𝗱𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 — there was a short period of time during which he was a nameless child, valued still by the one who had made him. i’ve spoken in depth about this particular headcanon with a friend, and scara did have a time during which ei acted as a caregiver figure of sorts right at the beginning of his life, prior to deeming scaramouche a failure. during this time, she looked after him and taught him many things in an attempt to prepare him to be a vessel for the electro gnosis ; scaramouche had not yet even learned that others could be cruel, so he had no reason to be afraid. it is during this time that he began to view her as his mother, rather than simply a disconnected creator of sorts.

₦Ø₮ ł₥₱ⱤɆ₴₴łVɆ ... incomparable resentment bitterly swallowed down, posture remains FIRM, curled fist does not budge from the concrete ground on where he kneels. His teeth will SNAP from the pressure, jaw impossible to tighten further. But that rage does not shake, only in his very core does that fire engulf him entirely. From behind concealed gaze, mask mimic of STILLNESS, piercing his eyes bare up from bowed head. How dare he make a FOOL out of him. What authority can that title give him alone? Nothing but a means to an end, nothing but a perfect target on his back ━━ ravel in it, dearest Harbinger. That ego will not last. How WELCOMING that pretty face of his will be, when he seizes the chance to melt it right off.

ĐØ₦'₮ ɎØɄ Đ₳ⱤɆ ⱠØØ₭ ĐØ₩₦ Ø₦ ₥Ɇ. “ My ... sincerest apologies, Lord Harbinger, If such action goes beyond your better judgement. I got ahead of myself. ” Menacing is the aura seeping from him, obedient his words echo; more then just rehearsed phrasing, an unstable willingness to comply when all hairs stood on end, as coaxed words rolled off his tongue with astounding allure. The audacity to humiliate him. The inferno within would not go so soundly ; pity the next to crossed his path, for they would be burdened to endure his discomposure.

𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐏  𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐏  𝐇𝐎𝐖'𝐒  𝐌𝐘  𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋?  |  accepting.

@6uppet /

This isn't easy for her at all. One would expect a quick, direct answer from her. Hey, she's literally Archon. However... in her eyes, which see far more than others, there's suffering. Not much, but it loops and burns like crazy. It's perfectly visible, and you can guess who those gazes are directed at. Scaramouche. Nahida hasn't said anything yet, looking at his poor body and soul, which probably nothing can save.

"You're a lost mouse. Trying to be a cat. A predator. But you'll never achieve it. If even after all these exhausting struggles and pointless dreams, you don't realize it, I'll have to leave you eventually. I am knowledge. Reason. Don't expect me to constantly pat you on the back." Her voice is rough. Even annoyed, and to some, it might seem frightening. She's doing this for his own good. He's not the center of the universe, and he never will be. The sooner he understands that, the better for him.

"Your wings didn't take you that far anyway. They burned quickly in the sun. It's no use, and if you persist, you're lying to yourself." The being slowly approached him. She now treated him as if he were a frightened little animal unsure of what to do. Which is essentially a metaphor for this sad life.