#tenacquity

The truth is, Barok doesn't know what he should feel more betrayed about. The fact that the brother he'd wanted to emulate all his life was nothing but a killer, who's actions resulted in the ending and ruining of so many lives, including Barok's own? Or... is it that, until the very end, Klint was too afraid to share that horrible truth with him, even when that fear allowed him to be controlled into committing the most heinous acts imaginable?

It makes him want to laugh with a bitterness he hasn't felt in years. It makes him feel ill; desperate and angry and like a fraying rope about to snap. Perhaps it's sinful, and a sign of Barok's own weak character, that Klint's lack of trust in him might be what hurts the most. Had he thought Barok would break under the weight of the truth, and sought to protect him from that fate? What's worse is that Barok doesn't know how he would've reacted deep down. What's the scarier thought - that Barok would've turned away in despair and been unable to carry on just as his brother feared, or that he would stand with Klint, perhaps even turning a blind eye to his crimes...?

...There's no point in thinking about it now. But if he doesn't think about Klint, then there's no shortage of other things to take his place at the forefront of his mind. Such as the true identity of the Reaper, and how Barok had been complicit in his crimes for the longest time - allowing himself to be used and manipulated like a puppet on a string, even when he didn't see the full extent of it all.

His whole life, these past ten years in which he thought he'd endured so much, all for the sake of the people of London... what were they all for?

When he hears the knock on the door, it's tempting to ignore it entirely - he barely has the energy to stand, anyway. He doesn't know who it could possibly be, considering everything, but... in the end, he rises like a man possessed, and finds himself walking to open the door as if in a trance. What he sees when the door opens is the last thing he expects.

"Mr... Naruhodo...? You... pray tell, what are you doing here at this hour?"

The petite redhead offered Ryunosuke an empathetic smile, though a tiny giggle still escaped her. She could certainly understand his plight, and in some fashion, it was nice to see she wasn't the only one.

"Lord van Zieks is very stern in general, but I must admit, he's much moreso in the courtroom," Daedra offered in reply. "I don't blame you for being so on edge around him. I really didn't think it was true what others said - that he's a different person when acting as a prosecutor."

The maid's face softened, however. That probably didn't sound very reassuring to the defense attorney. That this noble bred man of high society suddenly transformed into someone completely different just based on location setting. It was just like that frightening story about the doctor who turned into a horrible but completely different person by drinking a potion!

....Perhaps there was something in van Ziek's particular bottles of wine that he used in court...

"I do think most of it really is just for show, Mr. Naruhodo," Daedra offered, hoping to reassure her companion. She was quite pleased she'd gotten his last name down-pat~ It was very different from the average British family name; so she'd taken the time to practice prior, to make sure she could address him properly!

It took longer than he'd thought for Kazuma to finish his work for the afternoon. Scarcely a week had passed since the corruption in Great Britain's own government had been laid out to bear. In the wake of Lord Stronghart's detainment, the staff of the Old Bailey were understandably flustered, thus both himself and his mentor had been busier than in the last three months combined—despite (or, perhaps because of) their involvement in that very trial.

But this was where Kazuma's title of "apprentice" paid off. With Lord van Zieks away attending to other matters, the instant he completed his tasks from that morning, he was finally free to indulge in the distraction who'd been pacing the Prosecutor's Office.

Ryunosuke's squeak and subsequent grousing was met with a fond chuckle. "If I did that, I wouldn't get the pleasure of startling you," he teased. Loosening his arms enough to let the other man turn, Kazuma's hands settled at his waist once they faced each other.

"Wouldn't you? Hm, somehow I doubt that." Gloved thumbs traced idle circles at the rise of Ryunosuke's hips, a soft smile adorning his mouth. This whirlwind of a week had left time for criminally few moments like this. Now that he had the chance, it would be equally criminal not to relish having Ryunosuke in his arms again.

"Not to worry: I've finished my duties for today. Though, if I'm ready to leave, well...that's another story entirely." Ducking his head down, his lips danced featherlight along the curve of a handsome jaw. A chosen spot of skin shadowed just beneath was bestowed with a soft kiss.

"What's the problem? Don't you believe me...?"

That look on his face seriously pisses him off.

Derek's said so before, and he'll say it again: he's innocent.

So maybe he got a bit carried away a few nights prior... Enjoyed himself a little too much, and now, he's somehow gotten roped into another lawsuit involving property damage, among other things. That doesn't mean he actually did anything wrong! ... Not this time. Even if he IS guilty; well, he's got the funds to shut just about anyone up.

Nothing to lose sleep over.

All the boring, legal matters nonetheless have to be taken care of, which is why he's seeking this man's help in the first place. He should consider himself lucky that a Goffard's chosen him; clearly well - off, ready to flash his cash and wipe his hands clean of the mess he's created. And yet, he has the audacity to stare back with the stupidest look on his face after he's gone through all the trouble of explaining his case.

— In full detail, no less.

Always one to act defensively, he doesn't bother to take into consideration that maybe the poor guy's lost for words. Instead, he rolls his eyes, a click of his tongue following.

"Fine, whatever. I'll find someone else to take my case... You lawyers are a dime a dozen anyways." Though his lips are firmly pressed in a pout, arms folded against his chest, his overall body language akin to that of a stubborn child who thinks acting insufferably uncooperative will get him exactly what he wants (and it usually does!) — the prolonged sideways glance he first spares Ryunosuke before turning towards the door suggests he's not at all opposed to still giving him a chance. And since Derek's such a nice guy, he even lingers there a few moments longer than need be... quietly waiting to see what it is the little lawyer decides to say.

@tenacquity &&. said... "So, you're entirely unbothered by heights, I take it?"

Ryunosuke blinks at him. Indeed, his expression without need for words painfully screams, Please correct me. For pity's sake, how crazy must one be to have anything but a comforting relationship with the ground?! Why would you give that up?

But he nevertheless finds himself emitting a laugh riddled with quaking nerves. "I can't even imagine... Of all Visions, I'm not sure I'd be able to— W-well, I do believe Gliders are bad enough."

// ryuu vc: why would you willingly do that to yourself pls sir-- D: hope you don't mind the random ask! :D this idea struck as i was trying to fall asleep last night and wouldn't leave me alone this morning ( ノ・・)ノ

❝  heights  aren't  something  to  be  afraid  of.  ❞  his  reply  comes  swift  —  delivered  in  the  sort  of  dry,  matter-of-fact  tone  one  might  use  when  discussing  the  weather.  the  sun  is  shining.  water  is  wet.  high  places  are  nothing  to  fear.  yet  in  a  surprising  show  of  mercy  (  for  one  so  prone  to  vague  declarations  )  the  wanderer  chooses  to  elaborate  further.  ❝  it's  a  misnomer  —  your  anxiety  doesn't  actually  stem  from  being  somewhere  high,  but  the  loss  of  CONTROL ...  and  the  chance  you  might  plummet  to  the  GROUND.  ❞  he  speaks  from  a  place  of  knowing; he  recalls  that  innocent  puppet,  who  once  froze  with  terror  each  time  his  boundless  curiosity  saw  him  stranded  too  high  up  for  comfort. ( climbing trees, peering over cliffs, mind abuzz with panic at the drop. )

in a way, ren finds he envies that simple, uncomplicated fear.

❝  i've  endured  my  share  of  falling.  ❞  the  wanderer  continues  aloud.  a  little  grimace  flickers  across  his  countenance  —  oh,  if  only  he  KNEW.  ❝  my  power  grants  me  complete  control.  if  i  let  something  as  inconsequential  as  fear  hold  me  back  now,  i'll  stagnate  on  the  ground ...  ❞  words  trail  into  a  temporary  silence.  he  takes  a  step,  then  another  —  then  kicks  away  from  the  ground  in  a  rush  of  anemo  and  luminescent  blue.  glancing  over  his  shoulder,  the  wanderer  allows  a  brief  (  yet  triumphant  )  smirk  to  grace  his  lips  as  he  concludes,  ❝  and  never  ascend  to  greater  heights.  ❞   figuratively.  literally.  both.

-and yet it is one that wrecks his mind into implosion. He could easily not take the prompt seriously, and use his arsenal of writing devices to meet the requirement of submitting his answer in any form of poetry for English Literature. He knows this, and yet his heart is imploring him to answer the prompt candidly in this very moment.

For despite the interpersonal turmoil that Kazuma is about to unravel for the sake of extra credit, Kazuma's eyes gradually follows a falling maple leaf that lands onto the shoulders of @tenacquity. Resting on a patch of soft grass under the shade of a maple tree, Kazuma and Ryunosuke find themselves meeting here when they like to talk and study together. Away from the muffled yet bustling student body that is seen from below, Kazuma admits that he prefers, no, desires this whenever he wanted to be alone with Ryunosuke. Just like this moment in time, right?

With written words and short phrases in English crossed out on the sheets of his opened notebook, Kazuma loses himself in thought as his gaze fixates on the maple leaf resting on Ryunosuke's shoulder until it gradually shifts towards the sight of his partner's uniform, the pins on his collar, the chin, and eventually the lips themselves. His heart seems to skip a beat as Kazuma admits how he fooled around with both men and women but has never connected with anyone, nor allowed them to get too close to him emotionally, before. That is, until the very fated day where he was bested by Ryunosuke over a simple tongue twister during the speech contest. Since then, with each new day that he spends with Ryunosuke, Kazuma can feel his hallowed chest slowly unravel his bare & vulnerable beating heart.

This hidden, emerging desire to be closer to Ryunosuke, to gently pry his partner's thoughts and dreams to know Ryunosuke's soul slowly over time, and to ultimately bare all of his own back to someone he cherishes the most. For the first time, this realization scares Kazuma Asogi as the gentle fall breeze sends tumultuous waves of shivers up his tensed back. His gut almost twists into a light numbness as he ponders what romantic loves means to himself, what romantic love must feel like as he terrifyingly looks down into the unknown territory- and ultimately falls into its abyss.

Despite the collected appearance, furrowed eyebrows meet together in gradual confusion. "And you said the victim was a female immigrant from the Philippine Islands, yes?" a firm voice commanded inside the Prosecutor's Office of the Old Bailey.

As the detective hears the confirmation from Lord van Zieks himself, Alexandra Trese slowly controls her breathing as she looks down to the monochrome photograph once more. Adorned with a red-knitted pañuelo with subtle patterns of chrysanthemums and carnations over her dress shirt, Alexandra could feel her heart twist and tighten as she realizes that a fellow kababayan has passed away from their homeland. But despite the emotional turmoil bubbling under the surface, dark irises professionally analyze over a specific part of the photograph - somewhere off-center, where the viewer can visually see the brightness emanating from the victim's ominously pale soul.

With two towering body guards standing behind the female detective, Alexandra's sharp gaze meets the prosecutors once more. "Forgive me, Lord van Zieks," her English accent calmly states before she briefly pauses to collect herself, "I can look into this further. Please, direct us to where we need to go, and me and my men will make haste-"