#━━ v000. verse not otherwise specified.

[resonette]

@hehosts ↻ ♡   (  not accepting.  ) 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 . . .  something to hide , grandson.

seren amphelos could pick out a wolf in sheep's clothing with some mild precision. her work as a hunter, an investigator, a broker of all things legal and illegal and in-between, depended on a high perception and a sardonic wit. as a member of the topmost force within her organization, seren knew that without piercing eyes and a quick notice of detail, she would be a lamb among lions, ribs spread and lungs on display. not again. never again.

shining! was, in many ways, a lion's den, though the lambs in this instance were the young men who posed as the role of hosts. where seren was from, host clubs weren't as popularized as the more vanilla, cutesy counterparts outside of the water trade -- maid cafes and cat cafes and karaoke bars, where the sources of entertainment didn't rely on the leering hands and tittering giggles of their customers. exhaling slowly, seren found herself at a table, fingers gently waiting by her wrist, the screen of her smartwatch lit up by accident, which is promptly covered. seated far away from others, as she had watched the gentlemen of this establishment do to any clients that walked in, she smiled politely at the other girls that walked by, pretending not to be annoyed by their sneers and grins of her solitude rather than her presence of a pair of group. eh. let her play the role of the lonely maiden tonight if she must. but no: seren was here for one thing, and one thing alone -- to investigate a rumor.

a rumor of a man who could make anything happen, for the right price.

when the man approaches her at the table, she offers her most polite smile. she had to say, the service was great: the house decided who accompanied her, and she really hadn't been waiting long at all. glossed lips smile, and she tilts her head to the side, examining the other. shining knew what it was doing. she wondered, briefly, if they had tabs on anyone who walked in. " hi, " she smiles, here, her teeth on display through her words, " terribly sorry you ended up over here. i'm new to all this, you see. "

[resonette]

" that's a lot of blood. "

(  blood , blood  !  accepting.  ) @grellsaw

" that's rich , coming from you. "

she laughs a bit as she wipes the blood off of her face, looking to the other, standing in the gore of the creatures they once stared down. there is a head tilt offered to the other woman, and seren smiles a wretched little grin that only someone who has lived so many lives could. she wonders what her cinematic record looks like. she doesn't have the heart to ask grell to look. 

" all i'm saying, " seren continues as she steps over the creature's corpse, shaking herself out not unlike a wet dog, " is that maybe there wouldn't be so much blood if someone didn't use a chainsaw for a weapon. " there's a small appraisal, the huntress with her fingers on her chin, staining pale skin anyways, looking at the weapon held in the reaper's hand. she hums, thinking this way and that, " though, i've gotta say, it's really impressive that you're able to just swing that around in that outfit. i feel like when i wear a jacket and use a sword, something's always in the way. "

she didn't expect to be doing this, crossing the line between the living and the dead, but when you're someone whose soul has lived so many lives only to be wadded up and thrown into the next body for another attempt at appeasing a god who didn't believe in you, what else could there be? grell was amazing company, though; rare is it that she had met someone who was so willing and able to take the spotlight, leaving her to operate in the shadows. and, of course, grell made her laugh. it wasn't an easy thing to do, these days.

" come on, " she nods, gesturing to the next group of wanderers, " you'll find that this is more of a challenge than the last one. maybe you can teach me a thing or two. "

[resonette]

At least you didn't tell me to 'be myself'. - from natsu

(  4 0 4  :  meme not found . . . try again? ) / @mvnces , nat.su drag.neel.

" but you're already yourself. " 

sitting at the guildhall, the young wizard is in the process of painting her nails  (  today's color, a gentle sage green  )  as natsu speaks. they've been talking for a while about this or that, specifically regarding seren's magic and their cooperation in the last mission. a member of the elite UNICORNS guild, seren had made an unexpected friend in natsu, and is happy to help when needed. besides, the folks at fairy tail were kind, the alcohol was good, and it was a fun place to be. 

she holds her left hand out for him to blow hot air on, hoping his draconic visage would be able to dry the lacquer faster. " you have a very unique soul resonance, but the kind of person you are is very genuine. to tell you to just be yourself, especially about this, would be kind of insulting. " her free hand, the one with the dried nailpolish already settled in, goes to her cheek, and she looks him over, smiling a bit at the pink-haired man in front of her. 

" besides, if anyone knows how to make friends, it's you. you're going to go to this event, and you're going to have a good time not because you're just being yourself, but because you are a genuinely good person, natsu. besides, i saw everyone's outfits, and you're all going to look gorgeous. " she laughs a bit, fanning herself with her free hand, looking down at the polish that was either drying by way of her flame-headed friend's assistance or by the natural heat of the shining summer day. " there is no one more deserving of this honor than fairy tail. so rather than worrying about being yourself, just worry about having a good time, okay? and have a drink for me, too. "

[resonette]

sender lights up a cigarette a foot away from someone they killed before offering one to receiver + " ah, don't give me that look. the fucker deserved it. "

(  blood , blood  !  accepting.  ) @devilspurs

if there was any semblance of a garden here, seren couldn't find it. hands in her pockets, the gore of the profane souls that boothill had just splattered across the pavement made the otherwise monochromatic environment have a pop of color, the sanguine stench filling seren's nose as life, most ardently, turns and revolts away from death. was it death, though, or was it the familiar smell of smoking tobacco that caused the huntress to take a step back, a step away, as she looked him up and down. 

if seren was life incarnate, a maiden of flowers and the beginning of the cycle of rebirth, boothill surely was not death. not in the way that seren viewed it. no, the man before her was something not quite dead yet not quite alive, some wretched unnatural third thing that probably would invoke fear into the hearts of anyone that gazed upon him. just as the men , now corpses , in front of them did before the synchronous aria of boothill's revolver and seren's pistol rang out in the hollow church. (  was it really a church? if not in the literal, perhaps a temporary one, as their victims prayed to a god or deity that would not hear them.  )

" i'm not looking at you like that because you killed them, " she says, finally, going to approach the bodies and begin to look through them. she's looking for something in particular, a calling card, a playing card, something that would lead her to more answers about the fate that has befallen her, one that she is struggling from, like a thrashing animal trapped in thorny vines. " i'm looking at you like that because i can smell your cigarette. "

she brings her bandana up to cover her mouth, a makeshift gaiter as she continues her research. this was a land without need for law-abiding people, so seren had to learn quickly how to play by the unspoken rules of the land. when she looks up, she sees that boothill is offering her a cigarette, too, and she laughs - had he been holding that out the entire time, even through her complaint about his own consumption of one? was she truly that tunnelvisioned that she couldn't deign an ally  (  hopefully, someday, a friend?  )  a moment of her time? apologetic, she shakes her head, long white hair bouncing back and forth in the ponytail she had it up in.

" no, thanks. bad heart. can't afford to let it go bad on me before i figure out what horrific piece of technology's been put inside of it. " a tired eye casts a glance down to the men on the ground, and seren turns one of their arms over with her boot, sighing. " it sucks. you were right - the faction these fools were a part of were definitely the people involved with my grandmother. but they weren't carrying what i needed them to carry. so, outside of standing here while you smoke a couple, what should we do now? any suggestions? "

[resonette]

" i like the new look. it works for you. " / open!

[resonette]

" let's see who's the better shot. you , with your knives ; me , with my guns. first person to hit the moving target wins. "

@circustricks 🎔 ↻