#ildottored

“ is it?? ” scaramouche muses, their brow knitting with some faux - thoughtfulness even with an unconcealed smugness behind their eyes — they’re being facetious, or at least in part. they have no regard for rules no matter who set them, this much is true, but do they find it thrilling to break something they have no regard for in the first place??

“ what are you researching right now?? ” they ask, glancing over the notes they’ve picked up. whatever dottore is working on has to be at least existentially easier to parse than the truth of reality they’re still working on how to explain — and it’s not like the jester has bothered to give them any more information after the rather heated debriefing, either.

Her polearm reconnects in the center as her battle with the Ruin Guard finishes, returns to itself once more — solid, sharp, safe.  The Guard falls, breaks, poor fucker.  She has to imagine burying the blade, still sparking, in the man’s throat to calm before she can turn around and face THE GOOD DOCTOR.  She’d noticed the moment he grew close, and noticed, too, when he STUCK AROUND TO WATCH.

“Mask’s a bit much,” she says, instead of DO YOU REMEMBER ME DO YOU REMEMBER ME YOU WILL.  Her hand swipes in front of her face, as though miming removing one of her own.  Her chest screams.  She misses her sister.  When she smiles, her teeth flash, and she knows he won’t recognize her.  He knows her far less than THE OTHER, after all.

ah, what a scary person. at the sight of the masked stranger, sucrose freezes in her tracks where she is dragging a mitachurl humerus across the street. katheryne had been kind enough to gift it to her from amongst the guild’s spoils, and so she’s loath to abandon it here—it’s a most rare addition to her collection!—but it’s too heavy for her to get out of the way in time if she chooses to hold onto it. in her indecision, sucrose forgets to look away in time to avoid getting caught staring. “—!”

i'm imagining childe tucked into bed, still utterly furious. goodnight, young lord. u_u

I already put my tablet away so have this drawn with my laptop trackerpad

Lumine doesn’t hate — false, no, start again.  To hate is rarely instinctive, intuitive, but she can find it in herself.  She doesn’t hate this person, despite having heard enough from Niya enough to know that perhaps she ought.  (  niya’s voice is clipped.  their hands shake.  niya doesn’t say why she hates but lumine understands that she does.  )  Lumine doesn’t hate this person, but they do not trust him, and they are not bound by Jean’s sense of diplomacy.