#paramythas

@paramythas:

He couldn't really be entirely sure what went wrong or where, no matter how many times he turned it over in his head. One moment, he and Neo had been talking, the next, she'd chosen to pull a vanishing act. Not just from the cafe and their conversation, but also from the apartment the Port Mafia had provided for her.

It... wasn't a great sign, admittedly. It wasn't the end of the world, either.

She wasn't 'at home', but she was still in Yokohama. He knew that for a fact. They had their ways of tracking her whereabouts.

Put simply, the possible risk she posed was too great not to have measures in place, and he and Mori were nothing if not meticulous about threat management.

But she wasn't causing problems. She wasn't skipping town or leaving the country. She wasn't acting, as far as they could tell, in any way that went against the interests of the Port Mafia, so there was no reason to act on that knowledge, and she wasn't officially a Port Mafia member, so it wasn't -- strictly speaking -- desertion or insubordination.

For now, it was a game of space and wait-and-see, and despite Chuuya's apologies for somehow managing to fuck it up and worries that he'd caused a rift that might arise into future problems, Mori seemed confident enough that it would all work out with time and patience, one way or another.

In the meantime, it was back to light duty work, catching up on things once he was back in his office. Paperwork, mostly, which was always harder to focus on when something was nagging at the back of his mind.

Admittedly, he wasn't great at the whole interpersonal thing. The mafia had its own culture and a lot of his good relations stood on the basis that he was someone else's (secondary) boss and they were his subordinates, a working relationship on the basis of rank and the obligation that other people had to listen to him. He made a point not to abuse that obligation, so much as leverage it. Reward good work and loyalty proportionally, be grateful to those that served well, be firm but not oppressive. It worked well for him, and it worked well for the people that worked under him, for the most part (not counting moles and traitors).

But outside of that, he struggled more. The option was there for him to reach out if he really wanted to. Text was still a thing, but when he didn't have something work-related to call on her for, and had no idea exactly what he'd done to piss her off, the prospect was daunting enough that he refrained, even if the agitation of not knowing itched under his skin rather persistently.

And even on the basis of jobs, most of what he had were rather mundane affairs. Supply runs, smuggling exchanges, all things that were operating without any sort of hitch that required pulling in Neo's skillsets. He really doubted she'd want to be called in right now for what amounted to quietly driving from point A to point B or standing around waiting for contacts to show up, just to exchange some money for illegal munitions and call it a day.

Still, he couldn't let too long creep by either, much less too long with a side of radio silence, so he'd have to come up with something else. Something both worth their time and productive, and something that would help break down whatever wall had suddenly gone up.

He had... one idea, maybe. Whether she would go for it was really up to her, but it was worth a try. If nothing else, it was a place to start talking again, which was better than this awkward silence and accompanying, paranoid what ifs.

   ↳ for @paramythas + everett, from aventurine ( from s.c / accepting )

                                                          𝑰𝐓   𝐖𝐀𝐒   𝐎𝐍𝐄   𝐎𝐅   𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄   𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒,   the   kind   he’d   deny   outright   if   Everett   ever   dared   to   bring   it   up,   but   right   then,   there   wasn’t   anyone   else   he   wanted   on   the   other   end   of   the   line.   He   scrolls   just   enough   to   find   his   name,   thumb   hovering   for   a   fraction   too   long   before   he   presses   call,   committing   to   it   before   he   can   change   his   mind.

❝   Hey…   I   know   it’s   late.   ❞

The   words   come   smooth,   familiar,   but   something   beneath   them   doesn’t   quite   sit   right.   The   usual   charm   is   there,   just…   thinner,   like   it’s   being   held   together   rather   than   worn   naturally.

Someone- jealous, he thinks, or something that tastes just as bitter in the back of their throat- calls him Neuvillette's dog within earshot of the Iudex. Whether they think he can hear or not is irrelevant; speaking it aloud in his presence alone is insult enough. Valentin knows this, and so does the man who speaks it- casually, cruelly, condescendingly. As though being at the Sovereign's beck and call is something to be embarrassed by. How sad, really, to be so prideful as to make oneself miserable with it. So when his hand curls in front of the man's jacket, hefting him off his feet and into the air, the strigoi tilts his head, low-lidded eyes sharp, and sneers out, quietly- "Woof." A gloved palm meets his cheek, and Neuvillette hums 'Heel' just loud enough to be heard by the man in his grasp, who shifts from angry red to terrified pallor in record time. It's earnestly impressive. Solving the altercation in his usual smooth manner, Neuvillette nonetheless does so with a hand pointedly settled heavy on the back of Vali's neck. It's no surprise, then, when in his their quarters later, he finds himself on all fours, a reprimanding hand in his hair, being brought firmly to heel by the only man fit to actually command him. Neuvillette really doesn't change- in the end the punishment must fit the crime.

ONE WOULD THINK THAT decades of dealing with the Iudex would make the more difficult nobles of Fontaine less…themselves, and yet, pride was forever the deadliest of sins for many. They would never insult him to his face no matter how brazen, but their bitterness could easily be aimed at others who seemed to hold Neuvillette’s favor. A small sigh passed his lips upon hearing the noble’s words, purposely spoken with just enough bite to it so that not even the wind would have been able to cover up what was stated. It was childish and wholly unnecessary, yet getting that little quip in was all that mattered to the one who said it, consequences be damned. Dealing with this kind of behavior was forever exhausting.

     Before Neuvillette’s lips could part, Vali made his way towards the noble in question, hand extending and fingers tightening upon the front of the man’s expensive jacket. The Iudex’s head shook as he had already expected this interaction long before it came into being. The noble’s legs dangled, fear changing the cold arrogance he had worn before as his hands gripped Valentin’s arm tightly. Such expression did not settle for long before cheeks grew a cherry red, eyes aflame with rage.

     ‘Woof.’

     Vali, this was just as childish as the nobleman. The altercation is dealt with swiftly by him without any need to raise his voice, or say much of anything. A simple heel, and a touch upon the cheek from the cool surface of his gloves ended that problem. However, his eyes had been sharp – pupils pinpricks from his own displeasure. The noble would go and lick their wounds elsewhere, no doubt attempting to figure out how to take control of even that situation by sending gifts Neuvillette’s way (all of which would be turned away as they oftentimes were). Vali, on the other hand, would not be so lucky. That, was made abundantly clear from look alone.

++++

"Shadow, we've talked about this- no threatening travelers simply because they walk too close." Artemisia sighs, and turns to the man (sorcerer? wizard? the robes are usually telling, but she couldn't say which he is) and sets a hand on the Displacer Beast's large head. "I'm sorry, she's a touch... jumpy around strangers. She's lovely though, I promise." A sly look down at the Displacer Beast, who shrinks a bit as if understanding a 'punishment' is forthcoming. "...would you like to pet her?"

@paramythas &&. said... hey so do you have any headcanons about SM's (possible/likely) hangups about who he used to be vs who he wants to/is trying to be now-

OH  BOY  DO  I!

i  have  so  many  thoughts  about  the  role  autonomy  and  personhood  plays  in  relation  to  shadow  milk  and  fount.  in  a  way,  fount's  corruption  was  a  liberating  experience.  a  person  treated  like  an  object  and  resource  for  the  majority  of  his  existence,  asserting  control  and  fashioning  HIMSELF  as  the  puppet  master.  (  cool  idea  in  concept,  shadow  milk!  if  you  ignore  the  numerous  atrocities  that  followed.  )

obviously  we  still  know  very  little  about  fount  at  this  point  in  time,  but  as  far  as  my  own  personal  headcanon  goes,  he  was  always  pretty  miserable  —  less  so  in  the  beginning,  but  even  then,  i  don't  think  he  was  ever  actually  "happy."  there's  a  line  in  a  thread  i  have  with  @/boundforgreatness  where  fount  brushes  off  the  irritation  he's  feeling  because  it's  "subjective"  and  therefore  not  really  information  worth  acknowledging  and  i  think  that  says  a  lot  about  how  his  headspace  at  that  point.  he  is  a  person  trying  to  act  like  a  machine,  being  told  that  he  IS  a  machine  by  everyone  around  him  and  feeling  like  he's  doing  something  wrong  when  he  still  bleeds.  fount  puts  on  a  very  calm,  soft-spoken  and  polite  facade  because  he  assumes  that's  what  is  expected  of  him  —  but  there's  an  IMMENSE  amount  of  frustration  and  anger  buried  down  deep  inside  after  years  and  years  and  yearsandyearsandyears  being  placed  in  this  impossible  position  where  nothing  he  can  say  or  do  will  ever  be  enough  to  please  everyone.  yet  he's  still  told  he  isn't  doing  it  right,  even  if  the  core  issue  (  cookies  preferring  comfortable  lies  )  is  no  fault  of  his  own.

shadow  milk  is  the  natural  conclusion,  when  all  of  that  frustration  reaches  its  boiling  point  and  he  finally  snaps  —  and  the  sheer  catharsis  from  that  is  part  of  the  reason  why  he's  so  manic  all  the  time.  in  a  weird  way,  shadow  milk  is  still  technically  going  through  the  motions  of  his  original  purpose  —  it's  just  the  enlightenment  and  knowledge  he's  pushing  is  false.  but  that's  what  they  all  wanted,  isn't  it?  they  preferred  the  lies  —  well,  be  careful  what  you  wish  for.  he's  basically  doing  all  of  this  out  of  spite.

circling  back  around  to  the  original  question,  i  don't  think  trying  to  actually  form  an  identity  beyond  his  purpose  is  what  caused  shadow  milk  to  corrupt  —  but  i  feel  like  both  incidents  are  so  closely  intertwined  that  the  line  between  them  kind  of  blurs  for  him.  shadow  milk  is  evil  and  despite  how  highly  he  may  talk  about  himself,  i  do  think  he  knows  that  he's  evil,  but  he  doesn't  really  understand  that  it's  his  ACTIONS  that  make  him  evil  —  and  not  simply  the  act  of  being  him.  (  mind  you,  he  doesn't  care  about  the  morality  of  anything  he  does.  )  from  his  perspective,  he  tried  to  become  an  individual  instead  of  the  machine  and  prioritize  his  own  desires  and  he  was  punished  severely  for  it.  he  thinks  that  he's  a  monster  —  not  in  a  sad,  self-pitying  way,  but  more  like  it's  just  a  statement  of  fact.  his  own  autonomy  is  something  inherently  wrong  and  evil  and  corrupted  and  even  the  gods  apparently  believed  that  to  be  true.  that's  also  why  shadow  milk  tends  to  react  so  aggressively  towards  any  displays  of  kindness  directed  his  way,  because  he  interprets  it  as  an  act  of  mockery.  he  can't  wrap  his  head  around  the  idea  that  it's  actually  genuine.

he's  angry  about  fount,  he's  angry  about  himself,  he's  just  angry  —  and  i  think  it  really  shows  in  the  moments  when  his  act  wears  thin.

⌚- Does your muse worry about time? ✞- Does your muse have any kinds of religion? ✎- Can your muse draw? How well/How Bad?

Headcanon Symbols || Accepting! @paramythas

⌚- Does your muse worry about time?

Nah, Tomoko's pretty good with showing up on time to wherever she needs to be. It's one of the things she takes seriously, as she hates having her own time wasted, so she doesn't do that to others. In terms of when she's just going through her day, she occasionally gets moments where if she's forced to take a day or two off doing nothing, she gets cabin fever pretty quickly. She hates climbing the walls, and quickly finds herself going out for drives.

✞- Does your muse have any kinds of religion?

So, Tomoko was raised with Shinto practices, by both her biological parents and Kazuma. She knows various rituals and even prays to a shrine of Amaterasu. That being said, I wouldn't say she's...overtly religious? She's not sure where she stands with her belief in deities, but given the weird shit that happens around Kabukicho, she figures they have to exist and manifest themselves every now and then.

✎- Can your muse draw? How well/How Bad?

"Oh, that's easy as pie. It'll go like this:"

Yunyun's hot pot Jiaoqiu's hot pot Chile rellenos  Chilaquiles Rocket fuel