Vera Misham

“…Okay, then! It is kinda funny having a chance to walk around in a more unusual form.” As long as Vera feels comfortable with his presence, he won’t complain about it.

Speaking of her, she must be tired and hungry, no? Her clothes are covered in dirt, too. Poor thing must have been having rough times with this event.

“Hmmm, say. Are you afraid of heights? I could take you to a safer place by flying if you’re not. If you are, I could teleport us instead! My mansion should be well kept enough, even if it looks a bit destroyed due to these ‘calamity filters’ right now. You could eat and rest there. What do you say?”

She considers this. She’s not sure if she is afraid of heights. She’s been living in her father’s studio since she was twelve, and she was pretty sheltered even before then, so she’s never been high enough to find out.

On the other hand, the idea of flying on a magical eagle...

“Yeah, it’s like… a specific kind of cartoon, about human history?” The only specifications she knows are kind of vague, but there’s at least one constant. “They’re really cool! There’s ones about princesses, and cool sword fights, and stuff like that!!”

…She’s seen unicorns in them too.

“What? They’ve GOTTA be real! Don’t just give up hope like that!!”

“Oh, wow,” she says, completely and totally believing her. “I really like history... and cartoons... but I’ve never heard of a history cartoon...”

She’s going to have to watch some of this ‘anime’ when she gets back home. She wonders if there’s any on medieval Europe, or the Victorian era, or indigenous Americans. She likes those, and this talk of “princesses” and “sword fights” sounds promising.

Wow, this woman is passionate about unicorns, Vera thinks. But that’s okay, because Vera is also passionate about unicorns.

——- Small details soon enter the confines of the building lines in unbalanced windows and a misguided attempt at shading flat spaces. It’s a clumsy artwork, but one all the same, in soft grays from the dull tip of the pencil.

“Everyone says that,” The book, paper and pen are left on the windowsill for the time being. It sounds as if that answer had been expected. “You probably just have a hard time talking about yourself. That’s okay! We can start with some simple things and see what you want to tell me. Such as… let’s see…”

“What do you do for a living? Where did you grow up? Have you traveled before, and where?” A cheek rests in her open palm, head tilted the slightest bit into it. Her tone is light, conversational rather than interrogative. “You can always talk about your hobbies, too. Yes, I see you draw - anything else? Do you play chess? Do you want to? Is there something you’ve ever wanted to try, but never have?”

Last time someone asked her to talk about herself, she was fifteen and neck-deep in studies – the only thing that ever came to mind was… yes. Her one aspiration at the time. Looking back on it, that wasn’t the most exhilarating stand-alone response.

“Is there something you’re aiming to be? What kind of future do you want for yourself?”

Oh goodness that’s a lot of questions. Vera visibly recoils, unsure which she should answer first, unsure if she should answer any of the questions at all.

She decides to focus on the last question first.

“Good to meet you too! And, c’mon, it’s no problem. It’s my fault in the first place.” Undyne’s gaze is pretty intense. Although she might be misinterpreting this woman’s reasons for having difficulty, she’s used to people being too nervous to keep up eye contact.

So, when Vera brings it up, Undyne takes the opportunity to turn her eye towards her own painting, instead. “Oh, yeah! It’s, uh. It was a drawing of someone from an anime…”

“But I got really excited thinking about all the explosions that happen when she uses the sword, so now it’s just a drawing of attacks, I guess. Great, right?!”

And with that, she leans towards Vera’s drawing, the one she so bravely defended. “What about yours…?”

“An anime...?” she asks aloud. She has no idea what that is.

“Oh,” she says softly when Undyne asks her what she’s painted. “It’s a unicorn... I love unicorns... my father used to draw them for his picture books.”

——- Pens and pencils fit naturally in her hand for she uses them daily in paperwork; this time it is not a document but a blank slate where the tip hovers, hesitant. A moment passes, a gap in their speech, before she begins a clumsy outline of the window.

“Oh, not exactly,” What a smile! She feels like she’s passed a rite of passage to witness something so sweet on a girl she’s thought forlorn by nature. “Well, no. I haven’t done this for a while. Just thought I’d join you!”

First the window, then uneven lines of a building outside. She’s already started dotting tiny flakes along the empty space for good measure. 

It’s kindergartener-level art at best. If Athena feels any embarrassment, she doesn’t say anything.

“Isn’t it funny how we literally live together and have never actually talked?” Does their introduction count? Not in the grand scheme of things. “I know nothing about you! We should change that immediately!”

Vera doesn’t comment on the amateurishness of the work. It doesn’t even cross her mind to - as far as she’s concerned, it’s better than what she can create, just by virtue of being different.

When Athena says that she wants to get to know her better, the surprise is drawn all over Vera’s face, and almost the painting as Vera’s heart skips an entire beat and she loses focus.

“Y-you want to know about me?”

Knitting’s not the same as origami, not by a long shot, but it’s soothing all the same and he’s doing his very best to pay attention to the teacher. It’s still difficult how the class isn’t exactly being given time to mess up and fix things on their own. A bit of a shame, but he merely undoes his mistaken work on the red scarf he’s working on.

After a bit, Fendi casts his gaze about the room to see if anyone else is struggling. Normally he keeps to himself but here, he’s fine, he’ll be fine, nothing is personally out to get him…

And then he meets eyes with a stranger, while holding his 4/5ths of a red scarf (the last fifth has to be re-done). Alfendi has the grace to look a little sheepish, before glancing at her work. To her (probable) relief, there’s no negative reaction – no grimace of pity, no derisive snort or anything like that. 

He just barely raises his voice, without moving from his spot. “Would you like any help?”

Yes, as she feared, he’s talking to her. A strange man talking to her, even surrounded by people like she is, sets off a million alarm bells in her head. Even his kindness and gentle tone just sets off further alarm bells.

But... she needs to be brave. She can’t avoid talking to people her whole life. And... not everyone wants to hurt her. She knows that, now.

He chuckles a bit. That is definitely a strange sound for an eagle to make, but he clearly doesn’t care about what eagles should reasonably be able of doing biologically. He is magical, after all!

“I’m Battler! Battler Ushiromiya, the guy who ran the Halloween Party. Obviously this is not my default form, could you imagine something like me moving around in a mansion crowded with people?”

He speaks as if Vera had experienced the party environment, but now that he thinks about it… Her face isn’t really familiar. Sure, it’s not like he put his mind into memorizing every single party goer even with the golden butterflies that surveyed the mansion during the festivities, but she doesn’t seem like anyone he remembers seeing on the crowd.

He shakes his head in a bird like way, a bit awkwardly. “Uhhhh… I can assume my human form, if you’d prefer that.”

Wow, a magic eagle that can turn into a human! And runs halloween parties??? Is there anything this eagle can’t do!

Yeah, she’s not really understanding.

“Halloween party...?” she asks, tilting her head. “...Oh, yes. I heard about that. I... um... stayed home.”

readydefense‌:

wrightsideofthelaw‌:

When Phoenix heard about the festivities, he knew he wanted to get Vera out to enjoy them. And what better way to bond than with lawyer family ice skating?

“It’s perfectly safe, Trucy and I used to do this all the time! And we’ll be with you every step of the way, don’t worry.”

Honestly, Trucy skated circles around him, and he’ll be lucky if he gets through today without falling on his face. But it’ll be worth it, especially if Vera ends up enjoying herself. With any luck, it’ll be a great chance for everyone to get to know each other, too!

“What about you, Athena? Are you any good at skating?”

wrightsideofthelaw -> @readydefense -> @rockstarprosecutor -> @veracus

——- She’s trying. 

It’s thoroughly humiliating not to be at least half-decent in a sport ( skating is a sport of its own, after all ), but her repertoire has always been of activities that require far less balance at all times. Though it’s not her first time, she’s still, for the most part, clinging to the walls where she’s able to.

It’s a ridiculous sight, especially as she grins, declaring, “Uh-huh! I’m… great!”

If he was looking to her to confirm for reassurance to their new friend, he’s got the wrong person. ( Not that Athena will admit it. )

“You’re going to be fine, Vera!” Unbalanced as she might be, Athena has little fear for the icy stage around them; though it is a scary prospect for someone who has never tried. “It’s the kind of thing that gets better with a little practice. We’re with you!”

There’s another familiar face! She beams, waving at him in rapid motion.

“Prosecutor Gavin! Come join us!”

[ readydefense -> @rockstarprosecutor​ ]

“Ah, if it isn’t Miss Cykes. And Herr Wright and Miss Misham, what a pleasure!” He’s glad to see them, of course– though he still isn’t sure on Wright or Vera’s feelings toward him. But Phoenix had extended the invitation, so it has to be OK, right…? He’d like to get to the point where he can move past the awkwardness to be part of this group from home.

Klavier’s a pretty decent skater, at least he likes to think so. He and Kristoph used to go sometimes (though that’s the last thing he’ll mention in present company). He offers an arm to steady Athena as he skates up, smiling toward Vera.

“If you need to, you could hang on to the walls, Vera, like Miss Cykes is doing a spectacular job of demonstrating. Take it slow and steady; one skate in front of the other, ja?”

[rockstarprosecutor -> @veracus​]

“The... the walls?”

That sounds like an extremely dubious prospect to Vera, but then again, what part of this doesn’t sound like an extremely dubious prospect? This entire idea feels like it’s going to be the untimely death of her - surviving an infamously fatal poison only to be killed by figure skates.

Nonetheless, Athena is here, and Phoenix is here, and Klavier is here. Athena draws, like she does, and Phoenix defended her, and Klavier is as good a man as his brother is evil. She feels like she can trust them. She can do this.

Unsteadily, she steps around Phoenix and steps out onto the ice. Like a child in a swimming pool, she stays close to the wall, but as she starts to move, she begins to glide forward with surprising grace.

As she begins to move more effortlessly, she beams, turning towards the rest of the group.

“I... I’m doing it!”

And then, as she twists around, she loses her balance, waves her arms wildly to try to catch herself, and falls flat on her rear.

“Why do I keep falling...”

She’s hiding behind Phoenix’s back as if that will protect her from being seen by anyone else. She can’t believe Phoenix convinced her to do this.

Figure skating.

She’s never figure skated in her life! She’s never even seen a skating rink! She’s half-afraid the shoes alone are going to chop off one of her limbs!

But Phoenix had reassured her that she’d be fine, that she was family, that he wouldn’t ever let her come to harm. He just wanted her to enjoy the festivities. And... she believed him. She trusted him. Even if she hated the very idea of going outside, much less in this weather, she was going to try. For her own sake.

She still looks down at the ice with no small amount of trepidation.

Knitting classes. The idea had immediately interested her as soon as she’d heard of it - most creative things did. She didn’t know the first thing about how to knit, but she was excited to learn. It sounded like fun.

Unfortunately, she was... struggling. She was used to teaching herself, not being in a class, and the professor was moving just a little too fast for her. Not to mention that, with all these strangers around, she could barely concentrate on what she was doing.

The mitten she’d made was completely misshapen... she looks at it with an almost undetectable hint of frustration.

She looks around to see if anyone can help her and crosses eyes with someone who looks like a professor of some kind himself. Maybe he can help her? But does she want a strange man coming up to her and offering his help...?

——- “It’s – it’s not a bad thing!” Quick to clarify – she doesn’t seem upset, for all it’s worth, but it’s not a good look to leave confusion in a statement of feedback. “Haunting can be beautiful! I guess it’s a matter of how you look at things… I’m just saying – I like the style. It’s gorgeous! You should frame it and hang it up somewhere!”

Anything she’d drawn, back then, she remembers pinned on the fridge like a badge of honor, a mini-gallery of her achievements on a white surface. They may be long gone, whether in the trash, recycled, torn up or in someone else’s home or attic storage, however unlikely – she never asked what happened to that little part of her past. ( She won’t get the chance to. )

“Really? That makes sense! Easier to have someone teach you than to keep doing it yourself. Maybe you can even teach me! Oh, hold on – save me a spot!”

Athena doesn’t wait for a response; if only for a moment, she’s left her alone. Shortly she emerges back, chair in tow, and it takes place at a spot of respectable distance from the easel and its user, but close enough to a glimpse of the window. She sits, thin paper propped against a hardback book as a makeshift surface, pencil held in her one free hand.

“I don’t have anything as fancy to work with, but I hope you don’t mind the company! It gets boring in here.” If she feels her personal space intruded on, Athena has every intention of leaving her alone – it’s only natural. “I haven’t seen a proper winter for a while. Los Angeles has always just been kind of – warm. I can see why you’d wanna draw this.”

Oh? It’s not a bad thing? How confusing... didn’t it being haunting mean it was creepy? Like ghosts, or devils?

She doesn’t argue, though, she just looks surprised at the compliments. She doesn’t think her painting is that special - she’s just copying what she sees, as always. That’s all she can do, really - copying, imitations, forgery.

“T-thank you...” she stammers quietly, a blush rising to her cheeks. “But...” 

...And then Athena is walking away. Vera stares at the ground. Did she say something wrong? Of course she did. She always seems to be saying something wrong.

But, as if to prove her wrong, Athena returns, carrying (of all things) a book, paper, and a pencil.

And a smile lights up Vera’s face.

Undyne makes up for the soft grip with a much firmer one. She pulls the human back up to her feet, and even goes so far as holding on an extra few seconds, to make sure she has her balance back as well.

“Uh, if you’re sure…” Man, she feels bad, actually. She goes and picks up this person’s chair, as well. “I’d offer to help with the stain, but I have more experience with cooking than painting, and I don’t know if they come out the same way.”

Actually, she has very little experience getting stains out at all. Most items ruined by her cooking “lessons,” be they clothing or otherwise, end up completely unsalvageable.

“By the way, I’m Undyne! What’s your name?”

She hesitates before answering, raising a finger to her lips. There’s nothing dangerous about sharing her name, right? This woman, regardless of her strange appearance, seems friendly. And not in a strange, otherworldly, almost alien way, like a certain other person. She seems... sincere.

“Vera... Vera Misham,” she says. She tries to make eye contact, but it’s a struggle, and her words come out slowly and sluggishly, like she has to think about them before she says them. “It’s... good to meet you, Miss Undyne. Thank you... for helping me.”

At that moment, she takes notice of Undyne’s painting, or, rather, her ink-splotched canvas. She tilts her head curiously.

——- Snow! A blessing and a curse, inconvenience and beauty all in one thick blanket of white enveloping Spirale, no warning other than freezing winds and the imminent approach of the winter season. Even with a patterned scarf ‘round her neck and thick layers of attire, it’s a hazard to step foot out the door – Athena is reluctantly resigned to staying inside in the warmth, as no doubt are others.

It’s been – an odd transition, from sharing space with roommates she never quite saw in her residence in Cotes, to a manor shared between herself and men she’s come to know in her career. One exception, a quiet, withdrawn Vera Misham, introduced to her on entry – a mystery where Athena is concerned, nothing more than the short greeting between them on introduction to mark their interaction. On the day they find themselves alone; boredom marks Athena with ease, but not, it seems, the only other girl in the house. 

Athena doesn’t mean to sneak, or startle; she’s just quiet as she descends down, tiptoeing her way towards the easel set up by the window. She paints with careful precision, paintbrush a trusty weapon in the hands of someone well acquainted with it, capturing gloom and solitude on paper in such a way it almost looks easy. 

It’s been many, many years since Athena has picked up anything art-related. 

“Haunting,” She comments, breaking the silence at once. A smile touches lips in her fascination. “Is that the vibe you were going for? I think you’ve got it down cold. Hehe!”

“Are you self-taught?”

Perhaps most wouldn’t expect this of her, but Vera almost becomes a different person when she paints. Rather than the easily startled, anxious, frightened girl she usually is, she becomes entirely focused on the act of painting - it’s almost as if nothing can phase her.

So, when the girl she only vaguely remembers is named Athena abruptly speaks up, all Vera does is pause for a moment before returning to painting the landscape.

“...Haunting?” she says, in her quiet, almost whispered voice. Was it haunting? She didn’t think so, but she wasn’t a good judge of her own paintings. “Oh, no. I just thought it was beautiful outside...”

When Athena asks if she was self-taught, she hesitates.

She has to remain inside when it snows, even though she doesn’t really want to. Everyone told her to - told her it was too cold, that it’d be too dangerous, that she’d get lost or hurt. She listened, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.

She just wanted to paint the snow. It was beautiful - something about the winds being so fast and the snow getting higher and higher was even more beautiful, in some strange, otherwordly way.

Nothing’s stopping her from looking out the window, at least. She takes her easel, palette, and paintbrush (the ones she just bought with your limited funds) and sets it in front of one of the windows of the manor, so that she can see the rest of the city outside. 

And she begins to paint, a landscape. Tall buildings with their lights turned on. Dark stormclouds overhead. An empty world, devoid of people, buried in white snow.