#frollothings

@frollothings​

The Spirit had thrown herself into her work. Or rather the least destructive part of being a creature of Chaos and War. Repairing and maintain her hoard of weapons. Although if she was to be truthful it was just busy work. All of the weapons were in perfect condition, due to centuries of her taking marvelous care of them. So there was no need for her to do such labor intensive work. If she was to be honest with herself, Fey was trying to distract herself. And this was the only way she knew how with out starting a fight... Or a War.

So she continued to hammer away at the red hot sword, that was until she felt a pair of eyes upon her. 

Time was a funny thing... it could seem to move faster or slower depending on the situation or day, and yet it was always the same amount of hours. Yet it felt like an eternity for the dancer. Long had she stopped looking for his lean black figure, the red silk of his scarf whipping behind him as he would walk the streets of Paris.

A journey had taken him away from Paris for quite some time, that Esmeralda had lost count. All she knew was that their reading sessions, their late night conversations... their time together had been abruptly stopped. Dancing and seeing Quasimodo brought Esmeralda joy, but Frollo was everywhere she looked. Remembered.

Four weeks. Well, four weeks and three and a half days to be exact. That was how long Frollo had been staying at the clinic, which by now was well up and running. Mind you it’d taken some convincing for him to even stay that long, and if it was up to Elise he should stay in bed for at least another week, but it was probably a good idea that he left before he got too restless and she ran out of ‘interesting’ writing to occupy his time.

Taking the small bottle with mixed oils and a few extra bandages she packed it all in pouch before glancing around the room. It was going to be odd not having another person in the house, not that he was much company, but it was nice having someone else in the house. Sighing she picked up a prepared bandage, one that was a bit rougher and sturdy than the others, and walked towards his room. Stopping out front she knocked, unsure of Frollo was even awake.

Mornings were usually his favorite, the beginning of a new day for the City below him.  While this was true, there were some mornings that brought with it a certain twisting to the bellringer’s stomach; the sound of heeled boots echoing through the vast towers that he called his home.

The sound that reminded him of his failure to complete his lessons from the day prior, and the naïve hope that for once, Frollo would forget to ask.

✩ The prince heard the lemons hit the ground and his eyes fell to look at them, but his gaze halted abruptly long before it reached the floor. His eyebrows went up. Was that...? Oh, dear. By the time his gaze flicked back to Frollo’s face, there was a smirk tugging at his lips.

frollothings:

The young Judge was appalled at the sight of a nude man in the holy water font. Being uncovered other than a scrap of cloth, the blue-eyed man seemed to radiate from the light streaming in from the clerestory.

This was blasphemy! He had never seen such a strange looking person before… nor had he seen such an oddly dressed woman. No people committed such acts of heresy. He walked up to the pedestal, taking his hand off of his sword.

“You there! Do you not realize the weight of your actions in this sacred place?”

Ah. So he could see them. Yato sat up a little, still rather blase about the situation. Perhaps other men would have feared this man for his wealth and power, but... not Yato.

Given the circumstances, however, Yato still owed the man some respect. He was a guest, after all. And while the man had been a bit abrasive, Yato was probably very different from the sort of pilgrims that usually showed up here.

“If there is one thing I know for certain, every contract has a loophole… a way to be broken.” He tried to smile reassuringly at her, but he had some doubts. He was used to regular documents, not one made by the devil… …and the devil had never been fair.