#onlyhorn

@onlyhorn​ sent:  Ram, holding a chef's knife: hand over the peppers. don't worry. i'll be sure to revive you if you pass out afterwards.

                                            Cold.

                                            Cold.

                                            Cold.

                                                                           “...Milord.” 

          His body was trembling as he walked. One destination in mind: the council.            

                                 Bastards.

                                    Bastards.

                                    Bastards.

                                    Bastards.

                                                                          “Milord.”

             A bottomless pit had opened up in his stomach upon receiving that briefing on recent events. A pit that made the air tremble in motion with every step; every breath that he took chilled the air more and more until it could barely be considered summer. He thought he had felt a hand of one of guards reach out to him, only to be flung backwards? Perhaps. He didn’t know. He didn’t care. All that mattered now was--

                                                        Kill them.

                                                        Break them.

                                                        Rip them apart--

                                                                              “Milord!”

                The eye of that great and terrible beast had opened its eyes once more. He heard it growl (or was that him?). He felt it shudder in anticipation as he walked closer and closer towards the battleground that they sought. It didn’t matter to him how many there were: guards, nobleman, it made no difference. If they stood in his way, he’d--

                                                                      “FATHER!” 

                   “...?” He pauses in his march, blinking as eyes come back into focus. It was none other than Rem who now stood in his way. His aide, his servant, his most beloved daughter. Perhaps.. the only family he had left, since her sister had left them. And yet she was--

                   ”What do you think would have happened if I hadn’t recognized you?” His foolish child; his brave and fearless pride and joy. No, even that beast wouldn’t lay a finger on something he (they) cherished so dearly. “Rem, move out of my way. I have business to take care of.” 

                                      But that did not change what he they had to do.

@onlyhorn​ sent:  Ram? Wearing clothing that further accentuates the parts of her body that activate Wylan's neurons the most during the forsaken month? More likely than you think.

You could label the man as easy, but you could also label Ram as the kind of woman who knows just the right way to carry herself and use the assets available to her. Which, to the enlightened mind, were numerous. Wylan is enlightened in this case, but he’s also on a mission to prove himself. That he’s above these base desires for once in his life.

Fists clench, and exasperated breath breaks past thirsting lips. The urges for the moment are suppressed as he holds his ground and casts his eyes downward. It may be cowardly, but when she’s dressed that provocatively he can’t bring himself to look her head on again with confidence that he’ll throw all of this work away.

It’s been one week.

——   love yourself ?

          two simple words,    a simple question   —   and yet,    it takes her by a complete surprise.    hakuno finds herself completely unable to wrap her head around it,    expression still remaining in the stoic look she’d always seemed to wear,    but the look in those hazel eyes is   ..   lost.    empty.    so empty.    she understands what it means to love.    no one can live without love after all,   and hakuno’s heart is bleeding with love,    laid incompletely bare;    she’d tear it apart if it helps another’s beat.    but she doesn’t understand why he is asking this of her.    maybe that’s a given when you are so wholly lacking of a self,    perhaps that just meant you can’t understand these kind of things.    self worth,    self confidence,    self love.  

          nimble fingers hover over the hand holding her cheeks.    it’s warm,    she notes,    and she can’t help but wonder then :    are hers cold to the touch ?    completely lacking the characteristic warmth of a living being ?    (    a corpse walking   /   a ghost in human skin    )

          ❝     . . .   i  —-     ❞       

          it was never anything important.    it’s not that she hated it,    it just isn’t important.    kishinami hakuno is a meaningless existence never meant to exist,    never meant to have survived this long.    a bug,    a glitch.    that’s why   —-   there’s always something much more important,    much more worthwhile to focus on.

          i don’t understand.

          ❝     ——   you’re kind,    argus.    but you don’t need to concern yourself with that.     ❞      she answers,    finally,    after too long a stretch of silence.    there’s a pang of guilt when she thinks about how that must’ve given more time for his worries to fester,    gingerly does she pry his hands away from her   (   it feels wrong all of a sudden,    wrong for her to greedily cling onto such a warmth when what she is is such a cold and hollow thing   )    and she also thinks :    he’s asking her to direct her attention,    to direct her love to something that doesn’t matter.    he’s worrying over something that doesn’t matter.      ❝     you   ..   think too highly of me.     ❞      admitted in a volume just above a whisper,    as if she’d spoken out a sin or a bad omen.    it’s none of that,    however,    since she’s just telling him the simple truth.   deep down,    she’s glad.    she doesn’t want to be looked down on.    she doesn’t want to be called useless.    she doesn’t want to be called insignificant.    but that line of thinking is really why kishinami hakuno is as greedy and selfish as she is,    huh ?    she almost lets out a bitter chuckle.    you ask me to love myself   . . .

           the heavy scent of iron isn't something unfamiliar to her.    a calm disposition :    maybe she'd given off the impression someone all too used to it,    someone so hardened by all she's ever seen and done   —   those were the things one would typically infer from the ever - present stoic expression on hakuno kishinami's features.    it's not entirely incorrect,    a decent portion of the truth indeed lay in those words,    yet there was a lot more beneath the surface;    not hidden,    but  ..  difficult to find.

          stoic is her expression,    but it's vastly different to the sort of stoic she'd appear to be when it's her  " blood "  that is being spilled .    in stark contrast to her lack of care for any injuries she would ever sustain,    hakuno puts her utmost focus into the task at hand.    she deals with it delicately,    carefully,    brows furrowed in concentration;    her attention is solely put into dressing argus's wound.    [   had it been her bleeding,    she couldn't care less.    press down on the wound to apply pressure  /  not that it would matter when you were wholly comprised of data and keep pressing onwards   ]   

          —   a sound from him   (  a wince,    she recognizes immediately  )   breaks her out of that trance.    eyes widening a fraction,    her hold on his hand loosens,    concern washing over her features.      ❝⠀ sorry,    did i   —- ⠀❞      already a barrage of questions fill her mind   —   did she dress the wound too tightly ?    had she messed up in a previous step ?    a worrywart by nature just like the human she was based on,    hakuno presses her lips together and look up to him with an apologetic gaze.    she's full of faults,    that's a fact for her,    but she's rational enough to realize that she hasn't made any mistakes in this entire process.    it's an instinctive wince,    a natural response for him in this situation  /  a programmed reaction from her had it been her in his place.      ❝⠀ sorry, ⠀❞      hakuno repeats it once more,    tone still no more relieved than her first apology.    if she had more medical expertise,    surely she'd have been able to make the process less painful for him. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎no use dwelling on that though, ‎ ‎ ‎she'll just have to work harder.      ❝⠀ but please bear with it a little longer,    i'm almost done. ⠀❞

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎      she knows not to rush in this sort of thing,    so despite wanting to wrap things up as quickly as possible   (   she wouldn't want to put him through any more discomfort,    after all   ) ,    she takes her time,    continuing in that same pace she had from earlier.    expression shifting into that look of concentration once again,    it's only when she hears his voice yet again that she peers at him again.    he tears his gaze from her,    however,    raising a brow from her in silent inquisition.      ❝     ——    the proper term is  " caring for you "  .     ❞      the words are spoken through an uncharacteristic frown,    the question she'd silently held having been answered indirectly by his own words.      ❝     you   . . .   ❞      the hand in hers is now properly dressed,    but she doesn't let it go quite yet,    gaze settling on his face yet again.    hakuno kishinami's most noteworthy features were her eyes,    large and doe - eyed,    they were her most expressive feature as well. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎though blank in most times, ‎ ‎ ‎ it's a gaze that often spoke volumes. ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎it was tough,    wasn't it ?    even if you won't admit,   i'm sure it was.     ❝    ..   stupid.     ❞