#smh ...

“Hm? Is something wrong, Ritsuka??”

nebula   was   always   one   to   take   reign.          a cluster of people was present, and they swept the moment to be the center of conversation.   (   they were so interesting ! how could anyone not wish to know more of this violet hunter and the escapades in vacuo they so heroically took part of ???   )   but … they felt incredibly, wildly, and unfortunately out of place along the stuffy suits and dresses of atlas folk as the day carried on. messy, unkempt locks compared to their neat and carefully pinned back hair. a more rugged, they liked to call it, charm on their features compared to the fair women and charming men. every angle they were pegging, they found something one here could belittle them on. so, to a wall, a pushed back table, whatever, they stuck to. a cup of soda would’ve been preferred, but growing embarrassed to stick out among sophisticates and their peers, water was fine.

dew   gayl   was   flourishing,   as   they   saw.          she was in her element among the ladies and lords, gwen in tow. nebula straightened octavia’s skirt, tucked her hair behind ear and jokingly framed her face with a smile,          “     all good ! go get ‘em tiger.     ”          words of encouragement sent their final teammate to the conversations, an offhanded wave to indicate that, really, they’re fine on their own and that they’d move at their own pace. usually not one to think like the prior statements, nebula settled to push discomforting thoughts to the side and watched with a small smile as people mingled : at least they’re having fun ! that’s all they could ask for, right ? vacuo huntresses were quickly forgotten about as the ‘celebration’ continued on to a different event. as much as they’d want the spotlight, nebula would step out of it as soon as people moved on to something else.

fear   of   looking   incompetent   wasn’t   strong,   but   it   was   there.          and as much as they were supposed to be professional, they caught glance of one henry marigold   (   so lovingly dubbed ‘moneybags’ !   )   set a slight pang of annoyance through hunters nervous system. was he at every goddamn scene in atlas ? truly, surely, he must have to break once in a while.

…   guess   today’s   not   his   day   off.

green   eyes   tried   to   glue   onto   any   single   one   of   their   teammates.          anywhere but henry, yet … they watched in the corner of their eye, a single glance, they could tell :  he  spotted  them,  too.  they didn’t hate the guy, no, of course not. he was just … talkative and they didn’t feel like engaging in some … idle chat he insisted on having. but they didn’t have any company, nor did they have something to make them look busy. cup was fiddled with in their hands––– as much as you could fiddle with a cup full of liquid––– they noticed he moved, keeping aware of his movements. for a minute, they thought he’d move on to more fruitful endeavors and conversations. how wrong they were.

moments   crawled   by,   an   offer   for   tea   by   the   infamous,   “distinguished”   gentleman.          they blinked, gaze slowly shifting away from him and back to a group of women who grew giddier to start bidding on a charity item that nebula had no interest in.          “     no, thanks. i don’t like tea. ‘think it’s gross.     ”          in hopes to send him back to a more important issue, they opened the floodgates. eyes snapped back to him as he sat at their table. great ! now he was trying to coax them into a cup of tea, something that they wouldn’t budge on.

you   know,   tea’s   kind   of   weird,   actually.

that   caused   a   unattractive   snort   before   snickers   behind   the   hand   that   snapped   to   cover   their   mouth.          “     sorry,     ”          they started, looking over to him with confused, yet amused, expression. eyebrows were asymmetrical, furrowing one and raising the other. eyes had a bit more life to them after their unceremonious giggling.          “     just wasn’t expecting you to do that.     ”          they finally tagged on to their opener. although, if the hunter thought about it more, he always had a weird showmanship vibe to him. calling himself their ‘good fellow’ and an all too friendly / condescending   (   they couldn’t distinguish it with him   )   ‘nebby’, accentuating words in a rather … theatric way.