#chessmanwrites

\\ The familiar face of Mike seemed to be... curious of Mikhail now, after questioning. He hadn't expected it, the way the other turtle had softened just the slightest after agreeing to the questions, but it made him want to question the other himself - if he even could. He'd just have to be.. careful.

He had heard the rumors of this Leonidas. \\

Chaotic: What flavour ice cream do you want?

Purple: Boysenberry.

Chaotic: PoisON???

Purple: BOYSEN.

Bit: Yes, she wants boys in her ice cream.

Me: …

I think I understand why I don't like it. Why I say I hate it. Detest it. Abhor it. It's…not that I hate it. No, not at all. I don't think I hate it at all, really.

It's when it comes like a whisper, a presumption that I wouldn't mind.

It's when it comes like a wind, a presumption that it is normal.

It's when it comes like a torrent, a presumption that I'd like it.

It's typical behaviour. It's expected. Nobody else said anything. I've never heard no. You're saying no? You must not mean it because nobody actually says no, never mind the fact that you're saying it now. That's not a no. It's a yes because you're confused. It's a yes because you've never met anyone like me. It's a yes because I know how to do it right. It's just a brush. Be serious. I didn't even do that much. Seen your scars. This is less than that. You're overreacting. You're being ridiculous. Suck it up, shut up and take it.

No.

No I don't hate it.

So what is my hate?

When it's forced upon me like it's something owed. When heartfelt words fall on deaf ears as a matter of convenience. When the tears that I can no longer show outwardly fail to be seen inwardly. When laughter is interpreted as acceptance rather than distress.

[ Because I don't react like everyone else but you think it's okay because you never bothered to learn me. ]

You presume much and you attempt to take much.

You will not-

Shall not-

Aren't even capable of taking what's mine.

Hate it?

No.

Let me correct myself. Recalibrate. Reconfigure.

I know how to order the pieces on my board.

...

My heart, forgive me...

I know why you're here.

Of course I know.

We've done this dance time and time again, to fulfill the fated weave.

A proposal prompted by your father.

To help you become more…balanced as a ruler, I think.

"I will not have my daughter become one of those pompous braggarts, taken every which way by today's lace only to become an accessory to tomorrow's prince. Your mind will know battle and your hands and feet, callouses!"

Thankful still this day my visor shielded my visage. Whilst I was able to keep the guffaw at bay, the curl of my lips was inescapable.

So we proceed as we have been, every crescent of the moon's turn.

Blades, greaves, maces. Hands even, depending on the eve. But nevertheless, we bear them.

Equipped. Banter exchanged. Intent laid bare.

...And your eventual surrender.

"Ha…I'm not opposed to my father's wishes. I delight in them, even. I just hope he wasn't expecting me to topple you anytime soon. You're built like a fortress…"

"Mm."

I help you up. A huff of a laugh tapered, granted as you reanimate our session, your hands and vocals no short of boisterous in their retelling.

But I've noticed.

Softened gazes. Grazing turned to lingering touch.

Palpitations beneath my mail at the most simplest of utterances.

This…

It haunts me still.

Eventually, this wall of mine will fall and I will find myself in the most…uncomfortable predicament of my life. At least, that's how it feels at present.

Clear and vivid as your favoured chalice, with the lucidity of the commands you utter in my direction.

Though it flashes before me even now, the catalyst which mechanizes the inevitable eludes me.

I can see it. I have seen it.

The utter disarray of a thousand bluebloods and a calculated, labyrinthine legacy amounting to nought.

...And I…on my knees before you.

But I must come to terms with myself first. To do this would require an exchange I'm not yet ready for.

Submitting to a vulnerability akin to that of my prior incarceration.

Willingly.

But I am yet a coward in matters of the heart.

Tranquil at the prospect of war, fretful from the slightest touch of your hand.

So we fight.

Again and again. Confrontation after confrontation.

I fight.

Because I cannot fathom exactly how I became sworn to you.

But I…

I know I will not be victor of this war.

...And day by day, I become more open to the idea…

No.

Runt stands there staring up at the turtle who looks so similar to him. They're bigger, more muscular than Runt is and he feels a bit of annoyance go through him and he can’t help but stand his full height; even though it’s nothing compared to the other.

The smile the other wears makes him want to bare his sharp teeth threateningly. But he's a good obedient assassin, so he stays where he is, glaring at the other.

// Leonidas slumps forward to meet Runt's height, his "smile" only widening the more. //

"Your face will get stuck that way if you do that too often. If it upsets you so much, you can just leave, you know, or maybe..."

// He leaned in further, enough for sanguine eyes to pierce the shadow from his cap. His digits danced along the span of his mask tails, agonizingly slow. //

Are you okay with me just being near you without saying a word? Does the way that I look at you disturb you? Do I scare you?

Can I stay? Would you mind if I looked at you a little longer? Will you allow me to be there for you even if you can't hear me?

I'm waiting.

Patiently.

[ Reverently. ]

Until you see

The steps you took and the air you breathed,

The tears you wept and the blood you shed,

Were my own.

You don't need to know it now.

I am…

Very patient.

This musing is not a complaint.

I have...

Rather enjoyed watching you,

Seeing you grow into infinity.

I thrive in observation.

The observatory is my domain

And I find myself elated for the day,

That one moment in silence,

When your soul harmonizes with mine

And we become of one voice.

You will come to me

Because you've always been with me

And I with you.

Until then,

My vocabulary will continue to expand.

I will write new pages within my glossary,

So much so that...

The most passionate of scholars would fail in their pursuit

To ascertain the extent of my lexicon,

For I will unleash its entirety upon you in private,

In purity,

In adoration,

And it will become clear how long I've waited for you,

Patiently.

I will never leave you

Nor forsake you

Because I simply

[ Ardently. ]