#princessvinea

“Stop!” She appeared in front of the princess, not allowing her to take another step forward. This area was not safe, much less for a royal entourage. If they were injured, it would be bad for every party involved, especially this village.

She had been hired to keep the village safe, and that was what she intended to do.

Alternately: Tell them “You’re a monster” and see how they react.

                 Such pure, lovely princess.

           How disgusting.

           She knowsnothing about the world, no matter how much she would like to pretend she hasidea of what’s going on in her empire. Lovely, pretty Kougyoku is nothing but anotherwaste of space in her palace, another mistakemade by that disgusting pig. She is useless; she has no worth for Gyokuen atall.

          Thus, herwords have no effect whatsoever on the empress. They will never have, no matterwho says them. Why would they, after everything she’s done? She should feelproud of being someone they fear. Fear is the most powerful weapon she has bynow. That they fear her, that they tremble and curse when they hear her name;that is power.

        And she canfeel the hatred coming from the princess; she can see her rukh flutteringagitated, angry. She hates Gyokuen,and she can’t help but find it very much amusing. Does she hate her because ofwho she is, or simply because her brothers do? Such simple creature, cravingfor their recognition. Such pathetichuman being.

Send me 🔪 to stab my muse :: (not accepting)

┃ ┄ ┅ THE MESSAGE ARRIVES in the hands of soldiers who are on the verge of panic. Their eyes, wide and terrified, mouths opening and closing, gaping and unable to make a sound, betray their thoughts. Kouen reads them like an open book. He knows what is coming next. They will tell him that the situation has shifted from bad to worse. Fate was a cruel joker, a black widow who’d been burned for the last time and had set out to quench the thirst for blood. It hooked its claws into the backs of men and made them dance against their will. Kouen didn’t much favor fate, for it did not favor him.

            “G-General Kouen! The Seven Seas forces have crossed               the Tenzin Plains! Takeruhiko Yamato and Darius Leoxses               have taken out His Highness Koumei and are marching               on His Highness Kouha’s forces!”

His hand shakes as he brings it up to press against his mouth, teeth grazing the skin, gnawing the flesh. They did not have to say it, he already knew. Kouen surmised at once these underhanded tactics of Hakuryuu’s were influenced by the man he called ally. Hakuei, that unreliable woman, must have let them pass, controlled by the growing despair and the desperate growl in the back of her mind. She wanted to protect her brother, understandable. But she’d made a grave mistake that cost them the entirety of this fight.

            “I will deal with this.”

Depending on how much time he had until he was faced with the puppet master himself, Kouen makes the decision to take this into his own hands. He refused to be handed over on a silver platter to the woman whose lip curled in bitterness, whose limbs were spindly and long, and whose eyes were nothing but black. Fate was cruel, cold, a cutthroat with no ambition, but he would not be eaten by her.

He arrives on the battlefield with little resistance, but what he finds is a blood curdling scene. Koumei, on the ground with blood rushing out of a deep wound, and Kougyoku, having just spilled Kouha’s blood from a fatal slice across his chest.

Horrified, paralyzed with confusion. Kouen’s eyes have widened, glassy and staring at a pasture of greener grass, for he cannot bare to see what has just transpired in this horrible reality. His youngest sister taking the life of his youngest brother, two kids who were never meant to have those terrified looks on their faces. Yet here they are. 

             “Kougyoku! What happened here?                What are you doing?”

Kouen proceeds with caution, his hand gripping his blade tight enough his knuckles have turned white. He is unsure what it is that has taken hold of Kougyoku, but he does not like the heavy pressure weighing on his back, like a curtain cutting off an unfinished performance. She stares at him, cocks her head, and when she opens her mouth to speak, the voice is not entirely hers. 

             “So you came after all. Kouen Ren, by orders of                His Majesty Hakuryuu Ren, I order you to cease                your futile efforts and hand yourself over to us.                Please, make this easier on everyone.”

That bastard, taking advantage of his sister like this was a crime punishable by only the utmost of torture. And to think he thought highly of Sinbad. Even this was not too far for his backhanded ways, this innocent flower, whose petals he’d plucked with his own hands as fate stood by and injected her with the poison. If she were to wake, this catastrophe is what she would see. Koumei and Kouha bleeding to their deaths, and her own brother raising his blade to meet her in battle. 

               No, Kouen would not cease his efforts,                for they were not futile.

               No, Kouen would not hand himself over to                those savages who perpetuated war.

            No, Kouen would not make this easier for Sinbad,                he gave up that privilege when he made his move                on Kougyoku.

In the end however, he cannot bring himself to do it. His blade hovers over her throat, but there it is, that weakness, that vulnerability, a string attached to his true master, holding his arm back from making that cut. Shaking, shaking, shaking with the effort, the blade struggles to obey its owner. 

               Kouen is trying to move forward but is pulled back. 

               Kouen is trying to stay strong but he is breaking. 

               Kouen is trying to stop her, but he is being stopped instead.

She tears into his gut with little effort. He could not even djinn equip to fight her, no matter how strongly Vinea’s storm raged above them. Because she is his precious sister who has done nothing but follow him. She wanted to be like him, was inspired by his greatness yet was doomed to fail in his shadow. A thought passes through his mind, about how devastated Kougyoku will be when Sinbad finally decided to end her misery and release his hold on her. He thinks about her bright smile being replaced by tears, and his own steel face peels away to reveal a gentle face only reserved for her.

              “I’m so sorry, Kougyoku.”

“IT IS NOT A KINK.”

Observing the other as she entered, he tilted his head just slightly, confused- A bouquet? Truly, it was indeed appreciated! The other flowers (that, at this point, he’d forgotten just how they got there, but still kept them, for they were still nice) were withering, and so, replacing them, compensating for them, it was... Nice, of course.

Observing her as she left, a small wave of his hand, the one he moved to his mouth, and just like he’d done when flowers were being given to him a couple days a go, he moved it in a small arch, from his mouth down, signing: