date — august 3rd, 2020
location — capri
status — for @kingofsaints
There was no woe to be found in Evren’s gaze, not a single thought of remorse or despair for the relationships that had been fractured or the life that had been lost. The Black Diamonds would recover, as would those who had tethered their heart to Agent Hathaway’s — and they would be all the stronger for it. As the world was wont to do, it would continue twirling on its axis, heedless of the grief, suffering, and ache that teemed upon it. Being wonderfully self-aware as they were, they understood that not all were likely to recover as quickly, so, in an effort to ensure that her kingdom remained stable upon its foundation, it became her self-appointed duty to ensure that her comrades would come out for the better.
Which was how she found herself standing in front of the desk of the Hotel Caesar Augustus, sunglasses perched upon the bridge of her nose, arm daintily tucked into the crook of Malthe’s. Their gaze lingers on the profile of the man beside her, lips pressing together in an uncharacteristic frown of concern. It felt odd, like exercising unfamiliar muscles, but he gave her reason for it, did he not?
He looked weary. He looked worn.
Had God looked like that after watching Cain bludgeon Abel? Watching your family butcher one another, though entertaining, can be exhausting for those who find it difficult to be amused by such barbarianism. In the back of their mind, they toyed with the idea of making Kraken suffer — a nail from their hand for every second that their little charade caused Malthe to suffer.
“I booked the Master Suite for you,” they say, gently nudging his side with their elbow. They rose to their toes, blessing him with a peck on his cheek. “Perk up a bit, why don’t you? You adore Capri.”
