@wishingstrings said: ❝ And where are you going? ❞ Ordinarily, Machi would grant him a chance. Let him be alone before checking in. These days had not been ‘ordinary’ for either. Even now, even as she stared the Head down, the killing intent could be felt a mile away. She needed to reign herself in some, it could be a liability for the others but she—looking over at him, feeling the presence of any in the troupe, she found reassurance even now. She took a breath, steadying the remains of her killing intent. ❝ If you’re going out for a walk, I’ll join you. ❞ Any words she read (or tried to read, too many reminders of all that was gone) seemed worthless now, putting the book away in favour of walking to him. Her words were less of a request. A statement of what would come. Machi’s emotions were not usually so quick to be displayed. And yet. Maybe they were the most obvious to the troupe. Something so terrifying was only met with a warmth—a warmth that chilled the more the days went on. Chilled with the absence. Chilled with the thoughts of ‘what if’. Still, she knew their leader. Knew what Chrollo was like. Machi stopped a couple steps away from him. Close enough to reach with her needle should the worst happen (it wouldn’t. It couldn’t, not again). Far enough that she could be mistaken for a shadow, just another leg of the spider. ❝ After you, Chrollo. ❞ UNPROMPTED ASK - always gladly accepting
Silence clings to the spider's head ; like steel webbing across the image of who he is. Chrollo stops in his step at what sounds close to a demand for answers. But he understands in light of recent events. NOW IS NOT A TIME ANY OF THEM WISH TO BE APART FROM ONE ANOTHER. When bloodlust and the festering wounds of loss have left deep wounds on all of them. It is never easy to lose one of the spiders. But especially not like this.
GUILT RESTS LIKE A CROSS ON CHROLLO'S BACK. Heavy, relentless. The symbol embedded onto his coat now carrying the weight. It's not his fault. He killed Hisoka. Yet guilt still plagues and torments the leader. But the others need his leadership, not his grief. He needs to press forward. He needs -
" Very well. If you wish to, you are more than welcomed to. " Chrollo agrees, offering a slight dip of his head as further proof of his acceptance to her deciding to tag along. ( It is not that he does not want her company, far from it. THE SPIDERS HAVE ALWAYS BEEN CHROLLO'S HUMANITY. They are where he finds joy. Rather, it's a desire to protect her that has embers of discontent warming in his chest. )
There is safety in numbers. And if Machi is with him, he can ensure nothing happens to her.
He suspects it is also her trying to keep an eye on him. Chrollo cannot fool the troupe. Despite his efforts, he is too aware that they know better than anyone his grief and regret, the guilt that makes sleep an evasive companion in the night. That rage bubbles and festers ; a black tar dragging him beneath the surface with its relentless grip. CHROLLO IS MORE FAMILIAR WITH EMPTINESS THAN THE VITRIOLE OF EMOTIONS. He is fairing worse than he pretends.
Machi knows. And even if she didn't, her hunches possessed a high reputation of success. She might not trust them, but he does. She would suspect it regardless.
Chrollo regards her under tombstone grey eyes, then turns and begins to walk again. He says nothing for a short while ; nothing unusual on that front at least when it came to Chrollo. He was always the more quiet, contemplative figure.
" You don't usually say my name like that. " Chrollo speaks after a moment, quiet and smooth. Only an observation, nothing more. " You don't need to be so distant. You're joining me, right? " One hand emerges from his pocket, beckoning her from the shadow and to join BESIDE him. " This isn't troupe related business, no reason to stay so far away. "
( It would make no real difference should the worst come to unfold. )
