#❧ ⸺ ch. verona | verse ix: jjk ❞

[strywoven]

@saiakv has requested a story : “Life is suffering. It is hard. The world is cursed. But still, you find reasons to keep living.” (  for verona uwu )

a prompt i lost.

In-between grueling hours of dealing with the flock ( those miserable mongrels , the lot of them ! always here to beseech for more , more , more & never with gratitude upon their foul tongues ) one might be treated to THE SOUND OF MUSIC .  For it is music , verily , which so soothes the soul and sates the heart.  Many a’time , people have been s t r u c k by it , caught standing in baffled wonderment as they pay thoughtful , reverent ear to the spirit of a melody haunting the halls and hollows , conjured by the enigmatic woman none daren’t get close to.

Never would one need to wonder where Verona goes throughout the day ; it is always the same , always to the music room Suguru bestowed upon her ( a place which has assuredly transcended by now , becoming its own realm beyond the compound ; always alive with some soul & rhythm ) .  And every so often does she find herself with welcome company.  Though this , a regrettably r a r e occurrence ( so it would seem , her reputation precedes her ; not even the curious were willing to risk crossing her path ) .  Today , no different than any other as she arrives – silent and sober – making due greetings and disappearing into her little world ‘til summoned or required.  There in the room , she acts as maestro , as with CAREFUL & KNOWING manner , picks proper the record and allows it to play ; by some strange magic ( or perhaps by own greater force of will ) , the music suffuses through the estate , touching all those who hear it.

It is sometime later , the woman is found in LANGUID REPOSE , sprawled out upon a chair much TOO SMALL for own person ; legs outstretched and notched together by the ankle , hands folded loose in her lap and head lulled back , expression entirely l a x , devoid of its usual smiling pretense.  She seems … Nearly h u m a n , in this moment , merely a woman in a state of earnest , quiet docility.  Her head perks upright when she senses Suguru’s gaze , the motion slow but as fluid as the flow of smoke.  Verona regards him , shadowed lids half-mast over silvery hues ; there is , of course , a strange tenderness in her look that is not there for others ( one she does not correct , one she does not think to hide ) .  Wordlessly , a clawed hand unfurls from its mate , beckoning him forward before she slips back into her resting slouch.

Amid the music , conversation transpires – easy , effortless – Verona replying in drawling , lazy commentary.  Until , of course , his remark catches her attention , prompts her to TENSE , her energy radically shifting from calm to a g i t a t e d .  Eyes close , breath drawn , then exhaled softly in heavy sigh.  Not uncommon is it for the two to broach touchy topics amongst each other , but⸺ ❝ I have come to understand that life itself can become a curse , and thus people – if not careful – can fall privy to that suffering , ❞ Head turns along shoulder , looking over at the younger man , expression guarded and tone melancholic , ❝ There was a time I thought myself beyond suffering , beyond humanity , and even I looked into the eye of Fate itself and LAUGHED — ❞ Her lips quirk upright , silvery eyes twinkling at the memory.  The mirth soon fades , dissolving into a frown , head turning away again , gaze distant.  ❝ — But no-one is beyond it.  Not even us.  And what might we do , then , if the life we wish to cherish takes away our reason for living at all … ?  What can be done if … ❞  Her voice becomes strained , her expression pained , the next words out of her mouth the FIRST GLIMPSE behind the veil of her mystery , coming out as whisper he might have to struggle to hear , ❝ … If not even death can grant salvation ? ❞

[strywoven]

cont'd. // @drippingheart

ONE DAY , he says ⸺ The words ( which might be mistaken for a promise ) inspire in the devourer a s m i l e , an affirming hum.  It is only a meager solace , but one she graciously accepts ( her soul , too , is quelled by the prospect ; imagine , a world where even the condemned might know salvation ) .  ❝ Such a day cannot come soon enough , ❞ The reply is not bitter so much as wistful , her humor m e l a n c h o l i c .  ❝ Glad I am to provide a hand to serve the purpose , at least. ❞  And she means that.

His question feels warranted , the slightest of pries into the woman newly welcomed into the cause.  It is not lost on her that t h i s appears to be a commonality they share ( & one she does not often find footing with amongst others very often , either ) ; she has seen it , he understands what it is like to LOVE & CHERISH a child.  Thus his prompting about own daughter is , despite her secrecies , a w e l c o m e one ; it provides a push in the RIGHT & PROPER DIRECTION , setting the foundation for what might well be a stronger connection going forward ( with any luck ) .

Her hand dips into the fold of her waistcoat , within an inner-pocket , to procure her wallet , and then a set of pictures carded together.  Holding them , h e s i t a t i n g , Verona at last makes the offer , handing them to Suguru so he can see for himself ( there are several , unsurprisingly ; memories tucked together of three people – verona , her wife & her daughter – frozen in moments of laughter & bliss ) .  After watching him sift through the images she steps closer , leaning in to tap her clawed digit to one of them – a photo of a spritely little thing , all frazzled hair and beaming grin with missing tooth , currently holding up a poorly made ceramic monster ever so proudly – and speaks , voice hush and bittersweet , ❝ We named her Ravona.  And she was so … ❞ The thought trails , her eyes drifting over the photos , distant and detached , fading off into a place bygone before eventually continuing , ❝ … P e r f e c t .  Sweet and spirited , and a natural talent.  You know , she would always i n s i s t I use my illusions for her to play pretend.  She was so fascinated by how it worked , always asking questions , always eager to learn and understand and …— ❞

Her voice audibly BREAKS .  Verona gathers herself , shaking her head and taking a breath before pointing to another image in the fold , this of a refined and demure woman perched by the window with a mysterious little smile as she tilts her head back to regard the camera.  ❝ — And this gorgeous woman was my wife , Lenore.  You would have hated her , she was human.  She had cursed energy but no grasp on how to control nor utilize it , neither would her family allow the education for it.  I remember them DESPISING ME ; which only made our runaway marriage that much more thrilling in the end.  It was her idea that we settle and have a child at all. ❞

It falls quiet for several long measures.

❝ … They … They were KILLED .  Taken from me due to my own sins.  I live with that grief and remorse , the image of their bodies , every day I survive them. ❞

[strywoven]

closed. / @limitlessscion

❝ — No , no I PROMISE she’s much nicer than she seems , she’s just – uh , how can I put it ? – Overprotective.  And in her defense we haven’t had anyone else come into our lives for AGES , so … ❞  Kaen pauses in futzing with the locks on the door to the pent-loft , sighing softly and looking over their shoulder to offer Satoru a p l e a d i n g sort of look , ❝ Jus’ humor me , will you ? ❞

Pushing the door open , the familiar space comes into view ( an open area of light-woods , soft-upholstered seating & setting sunlight filtering through painted panes ; a space that gives off a homely , warm energy ) .  Letting the door close behind them both , Kaen looks around before raising their voice and calling out , ❝ Ronnie ?  Ronnie I’m ho — ❞

Before the god-thing can finish , the blonde emerges from the adjoining hall , her gait long and powerful , her stance tall and imposing as ever.  Though , her features are softened looking upon Kaen , her smile tender and the least bit affectionate as she approaches , inclining her chin , ❝ — Yes , I know , sire.  As I ALWAYS know. ❞  Straightening , her gaze narrows , pointed towards Satoru in a g l a r e .  ❝ Might I ask WHY you’ve brought him here … again … ? ❞  Strained is the question , attempting not to sound rude and failing miserably at the cause ; her disdain for Satoru is palpable.

Kaen takes it in stride , hands lifting and clapping together.  ❝ It’s a special occasion ! ❞  They chirp.

❝ Which would be … ? ❞

❝ Tuesday ! ❞  Verona groans at the other’s response , pressing a clawed hand over her face.  Kaen barks a laugh , full and bright-noted , before waving own hand in dismissive way.  ❝ I’m kiddin’.  I mean , I want us t’all sit and have dinner t’gether.  I’m sick of y’both fightin’.  So , this seems like a good solution. ❞

❝ NO , ❞ Verona says pointedly , crossing her arms , scowling in displeasure.  ❝ Asking enemies to barter for peace over a meal might have worked in former ages , but I do not think this — ❞

Kaen’s tone changes minutely , the sweetness turning h a r s h e r , sharper , their gaze shifting between Satoru and Verona as own grin becomes agitated and malignant , ❝ �� I’m not givin’ either of you a choice. ❞  Their voice radiates an UNCANNY AUTHORITY , rife with power and a rumbling snarl.  ❝ Now , sit th’ fuck down.  Get comfy.  I’ll start cookin’.  We’re gonna have a good evenin’ or DIE TRYIN’ . ❞

[strywoven]

smth smth , no-one asked for this either , but here is verona's jjk verse. under a cut for length , as usual.

Just as a brief overview of Verona's clan :

The Valhyr clan is extremely secluded and reclusive , done so entirely by choice to preserve the purity of own prowess and pedigree ; they are only about a few dozen to a hundred or so strong , which is absolutely NOTHING in comparison to the dominant clans of the time and of the modern eras which remark on their heritage in ill-favor.

Their staying power in the community is relative to their near-perfected techniques - known for such craft as necromantic rites , conjuring , curse-bearing , illusions , and so on - which have been used to manipulate and mangle the control ( & spirits ) of the greater clans for many generations.  These techniques are OF FEMALE HERITAGE ONLY , and the Valhyr clan has followed a very strict matriarchal code ever since this was discovered ( however , practices of male infanticide have thankfully fallen out of favor , but the manipulation of the womb & body to propagate female offspring were still enabled ) .  Their code is so enforced , in fact , that they view men as LESSER & WEAKER than women ( think the exact opposite of modern patriarchy & more extreme ) .

Their techniques - colloquially considered “dark craft” by Scandinavian Jujutsu society - are CONSUMPTIVE IN NATURE , which simply translates to : every time a technique is used , the individual sacrifices an equivalent part of themself to utilize the technique in question ( at a soul-based level ) .  The Valhyr’s have come to understand that they can “recover” this damage to their existence by devouring / cannibalizing others ( yes , including people’s souls , too ) .  The clan will oftentimes have LARGE BANQUETS & FEASTS to celebrate the sacrifice of the people they hunted , slaughtered and prepared for consumption ; it is considered a venerable way to die , to feed their technique and to sustain their livelihood.

However , because these techniques are so dangerous to practice , most women often die before their mastery can be obtained ; the current Matriarch of the clan , alongside her councilwomen of masters , achieved their marks with great price ( sacrificing aspects of own humanity ) .  Typically , most young women ( ~20s ) die before they can secure control over their power , being consumed and/or entirely possessed by their techniques.  For this reason , many women in the clan are often hurried along into arranged , usually political , marriages to produce “strong and stable” offspring ( for every generation , the valhyr power grows ) .  This is also part of the reason as to why the clan is small ; there’s a lot of death and uncertainty in their existence.

Life ( birth - adolescence ) :

Born in late-19th century ( Oct. 31st amid the 1890s ) Scandinavia to the Valhyr clan.  Not the most noble of bloodlines , but certainly one of the most INFAMOUS & DANGEROUS , with relatives dating as far back as the Viking Age ( ~8th century ) , recorded in Old Edda as “savage priestesses” and “barbaric sage-women”.  The name is relatively well-known throughout the Scandinavian region , holding root in FEAR & FEROCITY .

Verona was baptized , like all of the infants , in blood and ash , and smudged by purifying smoke under the watchful eye of the BLAZING GLORY itself ( the benefactor of humankind , kaëltyr , who watches over all souls , indeed took notice of this child … as she took notice of it , looking down upon her with a knowing smile upon its maw ) .

From birth , Verona was considered strange , if not “ill” ; even during baptism , where most infants would shrill and squirm , she was CALM & STILL , her eerily gleaming silver eyes fixed pointedly at a place above the council’s heads , upon a figure none could perceive.  All throughout her infancy , too , Verona gave off this uncanny aura of vigil quietude , hardly ever crying , barely ever stirring ( as if , some said , she was possessed since inception ) .  The Matriarch of the clan disapproved of her immediately , taking note of her eyes and the trance-like stare , the sharp and malignant glint she perceived within them and their demonic appearance ; “OMEN” she called her , and the clan henceforth regarded her as such.

By adolescence , Verona’s traits only grew increasingly more concerning ; her silence preceded her , a “death-like” gait , able to stride about from place-to-place in complete quiet , undetected like a spirit.  She was forced to wear a chime so people could sense her coming ( one , of course , that she would displace onto other children or wandering curses to play tricks on the adults ) .  It became apparent that the Matriarch was right about her eyes , about the strange presence the young girl possessed ; her stare only grew more potent , more pervasive , able to render others within the clan ENTRANCED & ENRAPTURED .  She would use this mean little trick of hers to sneak off-grounds and wander into other clans , leaving her own people struck dumb and dazed for several hours before it was even discovered she’d gone missing.  As punishment , the Matriarch ordained that she wear a blindfold that would suppress this newfound technique of hers ( one only a few others in the clan held at all ) .  Even in wearing it , people continued to say they felt her staring , watching , observing.

Verona swiftly began education , both in the natural order ( science , history , math ) and in combat order ( training her techniques ) .  Because her mother - Prym - was a councilwoman , Verona was tutored also in politics and in the arts , being privately groomed to usurp control of the clan when she reached an appropriate age ( ~16-18 ).  The training regime - for both aspects of her upbringing - were IMMENSELY STRICT and left little room for the young girl to enjoy being a child or to savor her innocent years.

Because the techniques of the clan progressively increase in power ( but also reasonably destabilize ) with each new generation of daughters , it became quickly apparent that Verona was A PRODIGY amongst her classmates , just as her mother was.

Life ( teen - adulthood ) :

Verona , unlike her peers , made for a very troubling , very hard to control young woman.  With immense potential at her disposal , she was arrogant , devious , and cruel , with little moral bounds to speak of.  There was one training session where she continued to exert an illusion onto another young woman , even when being told to stop , until her peer became a sniveling husk that collapsed onto the ground in a drooling , convulsing heap.  And another time , when she was performing the mastery course for a technique when she extricated the soul of her opponent in front of the entire council ( including her mother and the Matriarch ) and proceeded to devour it and the other’s essence in whole.  Appalled , but not entirely surprised , the Matriarch CONDEMNED Verona and her rapidly growing aptitude , denying her any further education and resources.

Prym , however , was stalwart in the idea that she would push Verona to take over the clan and upraise it to new heights.  Although disgusted with her daughter’s practices and brutality , even despite the clan’s own rites , she went against the Matriarch’s wishes and , in blackmailing a few other councilwomen to participate , continued to train Verona.

Verona’s prowess grew to be no secret , a newfound master of the unified trinity - mind , body , spirit - with techniques to match ( necromancy / necrosis ; illusion ; enchantment / possession ) at just 16.  As with all former masters , and due to the nature of the techniques themselves , Verona sacrificed measures of her own mind , body , and spirit to PERFECT EACH ONE , leaving her arguably less human than most of her counterparts in the clan.

And by the following year , at 17 , she challenged the Matriarch for control of the clan : a battle to the death , wherein the loser would be butchered and symbolically consumed by the clan to “return to her daughters”.  Predictably , Verona won and became the new Matriarch , successfully heralding a bloodier era for the Valhyr clan.

Verona was … AMBITIOUS as a leader ( perhaps overly so ) .  And she had every reason to be , with her strength.  However , when she proposed an all-out insurrection against the rest of the Scandinavian territories , she was met with concern ( the clan is too small to survive a war , they warned her , we have the techniques but we don’t have the manpower ) .  But Verona assured them she had the ability to provide the resources.  Confused and mortified , everyone watched as she invoked an “old friend” : KAËLTYR , effectively supplanting it , beseeching it for a boon of both virtue and power.  When Kaëltyr laughed , “You seek a boon to begin a war ?”  Verona , still knelt at its hooves , replied , “Nay , I seek a boon to WIN A WAR , to usher my clan from the shadows and into the light , to stand hand-in-hand beside the divine , as is our right.”  Amused by the response , Kaëltyr granted the request , offering favor , though cautioned that “All great things do fall , as all great people so do too”.

In the 1910s , the clans had fallen into widespread civil upheaval ; a bloody , brutal feud ensued with Verona at the helm , painstakingly claiming the whole of the Scandinavian territory and removing control from former clans , devouring the men and preserving the women to bolster their numbers ( which were already granted leverage by Kaëltyr’s cursed progeny enlisted to their aid ) .  She became known by the moniker , “THE MATRIARCH” ( an infamous warmonger & fearmonger which assuredly earned a place in history henceforth ) .

With control secured and the clan’s numbers increased , a modicum of peaceability had been bartered.  And Verona set out into economic and political affairs ( obviously with a side-business of slaughter ) , one of which was starting up several businesses ( namely a gin company at the end of the brief prohibition era in this time period ; this , still operated in modern-day ) and beginning to seek the company of European society elites ( many of whom had already heard of her various exploits & frowned upon her appearance in the upper-echelons ) .

It was through these jaunts in high society that Verona met Lenore ( aged ~mid-twenties ) , a simple human woman who did not practice Jujutsu sorcery but enraptured her just the same.  Shortly after meeting her , Verona began to court her ( perhaps a little dubiously ) .  And though both respective families disapproved of the union , they married and settled together ; the era of “THE MATRIARCH” dissolved all because of a single woman.

By 30 , Lenore and Verona were living in domestic bliss while the world continued to turn chaotically around them.  Lenore eventually convinced Verona to have a child ; they have a daughter and name her Ravona.  But 4-5 years later , as Verona is out - as usual - speaking to Jujutsu elites , away on business , a raid is performed on the estate , razing it to the ground and arresting several members , executing Lenore and Ravona for the sins committed by Verona herself.  Always privy to death , Verona senses the conflict , but especially the fall of her family , before she has a chance to act any further , she too is seized and contained.  Unwilling to take any chances with her powers , authorities sew her mouth shut , conceal her face , bind her body and chain her in an underground chamber where , they assumed , she would simply rot to death.

But one does not come under attack underprepared.  And again , even in her weakest , even flayed by her grief and scorn , she manages to conjure enough energy to invoke Kaëltyr.  It is uncertain what transpired within Verona’s body within those days she was chained and isolated , but when she was taken to trial , brought before a judge who would assuredly sentence her execution , Kaëltyr was there , amid the masses , commanding all authority , and stating simply , “I reclaim this woman.”  There was nothing to be done about it.  Thus , rather than kill Verona ( & rather than risk insighting the spirit’s terrible wrath ) , those in authority simply sentenced her to exile ( & thus into the god-curse’s hands ) .

Life-Death ( present-day )

Verona is serving a life-debt to Kaëltyr ; having sought its benevolence many a’time through her existence , she has incurred penance to be repaid in full.  Following the god-curse’s proclamation , Verona was inoculated ( she consumed its flesh , she bonded to its immortality & essence , she sold her soul ) and now lives in constant cycle of sacrifice , a process of dying and undying over and over again to not only repay its favor for her , but also to seek the grace of being permanently absolved of her transgressions ( & inevitably death , released from the cycle ) .

Verona is registered as a SPECIAL GRADE CURSE USER ; but categorically exiled and removed from all Jujutsu society for the rest of time.

After having endured the grief of losing the only two people who matter to her , Kaëltyr offered her PEACE ( read as: it removed Verona’s human heart , her body & spirit now remarkably sustained off of Verona’s necromantic technique & Kaëltyr’s immortal will ) .

Because Kaëltyr ( Kaen ) is in Japan , Verona is there , too.  Where it goes , Verona HAS to follow , per their pact.

Verona’s immense negativity conjured a curse some several years ago ; a massive , chimeric entity that tried to kill her when she was asleep.  Rather than kill each other , Verona “tamed” it and named it - Pandora - and it , he , now lives in her shadow , serving as her companion.  Pandora , ever since , has been feeding upon Verona’s sorrow , rage and innate strength and progressively becoming more powerful himself.  They often fight in tandem to one another , together.

Although Verona appears as a woman in her mid-thirties ( she stopped aging ) , she has this uncanny beauty and ethereal aura that speaks to something NOT QUITE HUMAN at all ; too sharp , too predatory , too dangerous... But remarkably alluring.

Verona presently lives like a rich , influential bachelor ( per Kaëltyr’s own influence ) ; she brazenly flaunts her power , flirts with ( married ) women , and continues to manipulate and murder humans , consuming them for sport and pleasure.

Verona is also the last member of her clan’s bloodline.  However , she claims she cannot carry children and thus , when she is released from the cycle of penance , the Valhyr name and likely the power , too , shall die alongside her.

Although the moniker , “THE MATRIARCH” did not carry into the modern-day , she is sometimes known as “St. Valhyr” ( again , something Kaëltyr propagated ) .  The public is privy to this information and are skeptical of whether or not Verona is a legitimately canonized saint … Though some DO IN FACT refer to her by this title.

[strywoven]

@drippingheart has requested a story : A letter finds itself in Verona's possession — Delivered by hand from a small, rodent-looking curse which disappeared into a cloud of smoke upon completion of the task. Crisp white of envelope and letter and elegant, black strokes of beautiful calligraphy. The contents of the letter  —  ❛ In the case of Getou Suguru's death. Succeed where I have failed, but most of all protect them. Protect my daughters, and keep all of my family away from the clutches of the sorcerers and their elders. I beg of you. Thank you. Thank you for everything. ❜

𝑼𝒏𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

Change of seasons does the soul good ( lo’ the months-long reign of winter fades & so too does its somber chill gnawing away upon the human spirit ; a revival thereafter ensues & we are free , reborn , free — ) .  And Verona herself , however remarkably r e c l u s i v e in part of her exile , does tend to wander off beyond her carefully unkept boundaries / borders to preen within a world come ALIVE AGAIN in the spirit of Spring ( the wicked , too , crave for simple solace , so give her this much , allow her a moment detached from self-made ruin ) .  There is no better space to bask than the park nearby own estate – a quiet place , to be sure – seated upon a bench aligned next to a pond and trail , book in hand ( & what else might this mad woman read but the existentialist philosophy ? ) . 

Verona senses the curse – a prickling , almost , like an internal ward being tripped and resounding through her entirety – before she deigns to acknowledge it.  Though her companion ( a chimeric beast , summoned of own sorrow , festering in own contempt ) rouses long before she does.  His horned head l o o m i n g out of her shadow , crooked maw splitting in a show of teeth as he drags himself from her presence , trying to CONSUME the interloper only to have the rodent bound onto his snout and s p r i n g expertly off of it , landing gracefully beside the woman upon the bench , u n h a r m e d .  Pandora gripes and growls , but does no more than sulk , receding back into Verona’s darkness , his eyes following the interaction from below with a WARY SCRUTINY .

It offers Verona an envelope and no sooner has it completed the task , then it disappears.  Verona blinks a few times , rightly perplexed.  She exchanges a look with Pandora before setting her book aside and opening the letter , reading the fine calligraphy printed therein.  Gilt brows knit together.  For good measure , she reads the words a s e c o n d time before the letter is lowered to her lap and she gazes off in quiet contemplation.  Pandora rises , curling and coiling around her form , large head propping atop hers.  He grumbles – a concerned question spoken only she can perceive – and Verona l a u g h s , shaking her head.  

 ❝ Oh , it’s nothing , ❞ She lies smoothly , ❝ But it does seem as if it will take us a little longer to go home. ❞  Pandora grunt-warbles , his spectral , ever-chaning body stretching , slinking around her shoulder to peer into her face , eyes narrowed and confused , large ears perked upright.  Verona smiles , lifting a hand to lightly stroke his cheek , a gesture that seems to soothe the beast ( if only marginally ) .  ❝ No , we simply … Have a new FAMILY now.  I believe we owe it to them – to h i m , especially – to keep this promise. ❞  The one in the letter , she means ; keep them SAFE , ensure his will is FULFILLED ( she does not know what possessed suguru to grant her such a duty , but there is something to the gesture that fills her with an unfamiliar conviction & comfort ) . But ... WHY HER ?

Clawed thumb smooths over the letter in her lap as she considers the prospect. The thought rises - you're welcome , but I should be thanking you , Suguru - then drifts away just as easily.

❝ And besides , this is about more than loyalty , hm ? ❞  Pandora growls , a disapproving noise , his head shaking back and forth rapidly , tossing off a mess of smoke.  Verona grins at him , grabbing his head , holding it still as she cradles it to her breast like a mother might a petulant child ,  ❝ Hush , now , I did not say LOVE !  Though a family does involve love.  You ought to try it sometime , it would do you some good. ❞

[strywoven]

@saiakv has requested a story : ❰❰ PIN ❱❱ sender pins receiver during a fight/training  ( for verona ♥ )

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

Through the ages , up until rather recently , the Valhyr clan was INFAMOUS for its cursed techniques , for the powerful progeny it produced.  These women sought p e r f e c t i o n in their craft , but in turn , near-completely neglected other necessary areas of a proper training regime.  Many of them , even the council and foremothers ( namely the matriarchs ) , did not endeavor to teach their rising generations much in the way of combat ( tell me , what use is learning a man’s art of brawling sport , when we can simply dismantle an opponent from the mind outwards ? they questioned , conceited & all too set in their ways ) .  And it soon became apparent that Verona made for a prime example of such ; for all her training , for all the resources granted unto her as a ‘ prodigal daughter ’ , she had very little understanding of TRUE BATTLE beyond demonstrations of barbaric force and slaughter.

She confessed , of course , to Suguru , outright admitting to her vanity.  There’s no use for it , she had told him in passing , I need it not , for no man withstands the maw of a woman ripping his throat and uprooting his mind.

A challenge it was not.  At least , she did not THINK it was , until he countered the supposed gauntlet with one of his own : an offer to put her mettle to the test , to train her and allow her the ability to learn something new.  After all , who’s to say you cannot teach an old dog new tricks ?  Even if this particular breed be especially s t u b b o r n .

Not one to be outdone , she accepted ( though the instant the words left her mouth , she could tell it was a mistake , it was a losing battle & one she did not know whether she was prepared to face ) .

It made for a quick enough fight.  For as strategic as Verona is , her attacks were all ferocity , all brute force and none of the marked precision necessary to keep pace with someone who knew better.  Every strike is easily parried , easily countered and thwarted , her erratic savagery becoming as predictable as any predator being backed into a corner and growing increasingly f l u s t e r e d .

This is not the first time Verona has been confronted with the severe neglect in education which has left her straggling behind others.  But it IS the first time she has been shown it so d i r e c t l y , by someone she holds trust and respect for.  She is not sure what is it that wounds her more ; her fraying composure in the face of own fallacy , or the fact a MAN has gotten the better of her , laying her out on her back and pinning her there on the mat.  Breathless , grasping for some semblance of control over the situation ( not that the knowing smile curling suguru’s lips helps her any ) , Verona groans softly , claws digging furrows at her sides in f r u s t r a t i o n , sharp teeth bared and form tense as if to spring once more.  Fighting is typically so SIMPLE for her , and now this ⸺ O' how the mighty do fall !  Literally , in this case , left there scowling up at her companion with ire writ plainly upon her features.

Scorn soon fades as she expels a sigh , eyes rolling.  ❝ Yes , fine , very good , ❞ Verona drawls sardonically , though her biting tone does nothing to hide the b a r e s t twinge of praise hidden beneath , ❝ Would you like me to say you are the better of us ?  Afraid my pride’ll not allow it. ❞  Mistake her not , there is an affection there , an admiration for his skill over her own.  After a moment she adds , ❝ Anyone ever tell you you HIT LIKE A GIRL ? ❞  Odd as it is , this is a c o m p l i m e n t , given her heritage and sense of superiority.  ❝ And I must confess , I am not much used to this view , ❞ Being beneath anyone , she means.  Her head tilts , painted lips twisting into her usual coquettish little smile , ❝ I suppose I might be convinced to enjoy it , though. ❞

[strywoven]

@limitlessscion has requested a story : ❛ see? i’m not just a pretty face. ❜ @ verona

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

❝ Hoh ?  Are you not ?  Could have fooled me with all your posturing and empty arrogance. ❞  Gone is her characteristic bite typically thrown towards him , replaced now with an amicable tone , her features cast in an a l m o s t appreciative look ( as if he has made mark upon her , too , just as he did her master ) .  Verona takes a moment to herself , collecting her thoughts and what she intends to say , the two Sorcerers strolling side-by-side as ever-watchful hounds behind the good Kaëltyr who prances along ahead , eagerly wandering from store-to-store , poking about and looking for things to purchase on a rare off-day.  Things have changed , for the three , and by the grace of an unspoken hand ( perhaps kaëltyr’s ever-careful own , verona likes to assume ) guiding the balance , they have come to find p e a c e amongst each other.  Not entirely the motley-crew of a FAMILY the curse would have wanted , but close enough to it that the creature seems entirely appeased and content despite how the world turns further off-axis into c h a o s .

❝ Actually , ❞ Verona says , interrupting the quiet , pausing in tandem to the curse as it disappears into an antique store with an excited cry.  She turns , her keen gaze following the trace signature of the god-thing through the storefront window as it skitters about between the assorted trinkets and doo-dads , picking things up and exploring in w h i m s y .  ❝ I have to admit , I was w r o n g about you. ❞  The honesty sits between them , a simple but MEANINGFUL confession.  Verona’s mouth twitches into a grin as she watches Kaëltyr engage a poor soul in conversation ( some rambling history lesson , she’s sure , prattling about something the mortal would likely not understand but is far too absorbed to dismiss ; it always had that effect on people ) .

❝ And I do not often see myself as wrong very often , if you can imagine. ❞  She glances at him , figuring he would catch the joke , ❝ However , I need you to know : I am sincerely grateful for everything you have done for Kaëltyr.  I have not seen them seem so … Happy … Since they have been assigned to you.  They truly l o v e you , and forgive me for assuming , but I sense that you might love them.  In your own way. ❞  A pause , Verona turns , looking fully at Satoru , her expression tender and even m o t h e r l y , ❝ Hold onto that , Satoru , hold onto THEM .  And we will do the same for you. ❞  WE , she says , implying that no longer is it simply the god-curse who will keep his company.

[strywoven]

@drippingheart has requested a story : ❛ Rona-chan . . ❜  Blood tacky fingers worked swiftly to remove the laces of onyx dress shoes. Not even three quarters of the way through, the once pristine pieces of attire were kicked off in an out of place display of impatience and messiness. One shoe collided with tiled floor, the other hit the nearest wall with a dull thud, and Suguru snapped his head back quickly to send midnight strands spilling across his back without the need of using his sullied hands. The stench of blood needed to be eliminated immediately.   ❛ There's a corpse out front. I thought you may want to play with it first. ❜ 

𝑼𝒏𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

Never one for regrets , this woman , but it is something like it when she opens the door , when she sees the state of her companion and the waft of d e a t h floods her nose.  Numbly , Verona observes him , watching as he – as if some dazed , drunken beast – attempts to pry himself loose of his blood-wet attire , flinging cloth and shoe all over her once-immaculate entryway like he l i v e s here , like the motions are at all w e l c o m e ( & she is suddenly sorry for giving him the impression ) .

She should have been further transparent , she realizes.  Her personal residence is OFF-LIMITS .  And she remembers ( as she remembers near-everything ) that she alluded to such in the past , though never truly explained the details of her living arrangements.  This is not so much her home , as it is another CASKET & CAGE , granted unto her by grace of a god who extorted the debt from her undying , festering soul.  A creature she cohabits with , and one which – however docile to most – upholds a most v i r t u o u s ordinance across its domain ( which includes this home ) .  She grows wary , uneasy , knowing well that her master will be MOST SCORNED to discover she has welcomed a man of sin and slaughter into its abode so willfully ( she shudders to think what the punishment shall be ; mercy is not the word she would use for a beast that reigns with immortal frenzy ) .

❝ Suguru … How ... Nice of you to come see me ... ❞ The greeting is returned , albeit not with the same fervor , she stoops slightly , the carrion scent rushing into her nose and making her gut churn with the TOO-FAMILIAR ACHE she recognizes , beckoning her to appease herself and her instincts.  For now , she can ignore it.  If only for a little while.  Her claws grip on the younger man is firm , authoritative , practically h a u l i n g him properly upright and into proper focus , she looks d o w n her scrunched nose at him , sanguine lip curled away from her teeth as her head nods over her shoulder.  ❝ Take the corridor.  First door on your left.  Get washed and , for the love of Christ , listen to me next time when I tell you I cannot afford to have your offerings personally brought to my home ! ❞  She releases him , nudging him along like a mother might a wayward child , PRODDING & PRICKING HIM with her sharp talons ‘til he thinks it w i s e r to hurry himself forward.

Her attention turns towards the corpse ( male , of course , but young & far as she can discern , without any ailments ; she could likely harvest the organs & flesh or find a way to repurpose the husk & bones — ) .  ❝ Oh , and Suguru , ❞ She calls after him , not bothering to look over , ❝ Thank you.  I appreciate you thinking of me. ❞  Despite the circumstances. FUCKING MAN ! Her mind reels , agitation coloring her inward displeasure as Pandora arises to help her collect the body. And yet , truer is it that she shan't remain angry with Suguru for very long ( after all , he can do no wrong ) .

[strywoven]

@limitlessscion has requested a story : "Hey, remember when you asked me to watch over Kaeltyr?" Satoru's voice was light and unconcerned, uncovered eyes not even meeting Verona's. This time it was he who kept his senses sharp and focused on potential eavesdropping, this little conversation a continuation of one that had only ever been meant for them.

"Turns out I'm pretty unreliable at best," his voice turned soft for just a moment before the usual levity crept back in and drowned out what complex emotions may hide beneath. It was easier to embrace his selfish nature. "I'm not going to be around much longer so— I'm tossing the ball back in your court. Do with that how you will."

𝑼𝒏𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

Change is a CONSTANT FORCE OF FATE ; there is no stopping it ( for what is , is what must be ) .  But so soon have things shifted , the dormant god-creature they both found themselves irrevocably tethered to no longer keen to slumber and remain inactive ( not for long ) .  Verona remembers warning Satoru , remembers the way he had brushed her off as if there was nothing to worry about.  Now , however , he sings a far d i f f e r e n t tune , speaking with an u n c h a r a c t e r i s t i c tone that tells her far more than it ought to.  So it seems , even Satoru’s unflappable arrogance has met its match with everything happening.  And so , too , has her own ( she does not know where her personal threshold lies , exactly , but she knows it is quickly approaching ) .

Silence is the response to his words , though it is not dismissive , merely an offering of solemnity for the weight of his sentiment.  She knows the gesture is nothing to him , but she REACHES OUT anyways , closing the divide between them for the first time in some while , letting her hand hover overtop his own , the barrier he possesses crackling at the infraction of her presence.  She does not challenge it , but the offer of consolation is obvious enough should he want to take it.

❝ … I understand , ❞ And she does.  In her own way.  ❝ I suppose , then , we are some pair of miserable failures , aren’t we ? ❞  She matches his poor attempt at levity , her usual smile w e a k and eyes somber.  ❝ We shall BOTH inevitably drop the ball and leave behind our dear Kaëltyr.  But until such time , I cannot do this - I cannot tend to them - without help. ❞

[strywoven]

@limitlessscion has requested a story : "Sorry, but I'm too pretty to die." @ Verona

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

So DRAMATIC ( so annoying ! just like all men ; prone to barking incessantly ! ) ⸺ And yet , t h i s is the man which has made home within Kaeltyr’s heart ?  Hm.  Typically , Verona would daren’t consider questioning the esteemed entity’s choice in favor , but after having kept Satoru’s company for near an hour ( far longer than own tolerance could withstand without the curse’s presence serving as buffer ) , she caught herself wondering WHY .  He makes for one u n s a v o r y character , with a provocative presence that leaves a TRACE TASTE upon her sensitive palate , stirring her bottomless hunger in such a way that she is not certain of whether to gag or risk the senseless effort of gorging on his flesh.

As he whines , not for the first time in the last several minutes , she realizes something : they carry similar traits ( he reminds her of herself ) .  And perhaps , t h i s is part of the reason she does not like him ( a deep-seated , inexplicable fear that kaeltyr may replace its savage madonna for a new saint ; can you imagine ? ) .  Jealousy is a MORTAL SIN , of course , and not her own to bear.  But with him ?  She feels it , she t a s t e s it ; foul and bitter , dripping bile down the back of her throat.

Clawtips reach out , grazing along the barrier of Infinity as they s c r a p e harmlessly just beyond the curve of his cheek ; a passing gesture , and one not nearly as aggressive as it once might have been.  If anything , it seems … PLAYFUL .  She stoops from her post standing by the couch , tipping down from stance overhead , leaning p r e c a r i o u s l y close.  ❝ Do not be so humble ! You are not ‘ pretty ’ at all ! Rather a terrible sight , actually. ❞  Despite the scathing remark , her tone is light and amicable ,  ❝ Ohhh , and wouldn’t it be SUCH A SHAME , too , were you to die …  Yes , we might all mourn such a TRAGIC LOSS . ❞  Head nods solemnly , expression taking on a dramatic sobriety before she g r i n s .  ❝ Not to worry , though , I intend to keep you e n t e r t a i n e d in our beloved Kaeltyr’s absence , ❞ Clawed hand presses to breast , chin inclining in mock show of deference , ❝ I promise you’ll not die , even IF in my company for an extended period of time.  Shall we call truce , perhaps ?  Have a bit of f u n ? ❞  Whatever fun means.

[strywoven]

@drippingheart has requested a story : ❛ My, my, aren't you a delight. Did you miss me? ❜  Kenjaku unfolded his arms from within the baggy sleeves of his monk robes and offered a pseudo-sweet wave.

𝑼𝒏𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

A DELIGHT , he says ( spare me your pretenses ! blight me not with these trying falsehoods ! have i not endured enough already ?! ) .  Lo’ she knows well the many guises Death doth take ( verily , one face might well be her own ) , but this ⸺ PROVES TOO MUCH .  It creates a terrible pain which Verona cannot make sense of , familiar but not , similar to the wound left behind by her wife and daughter.  Now a third ruin carved into her spirit , gaping and gored , hemorrhaging at the sight before her , at the sound of his voice ( a sound she might have once been desperate to hear & now it only breaks her further — ) .

Must be rather a t r e a t to see such a proper lady disregard all decorum , her composure falling to tatters at her unsteadied feet ( much like the wastes of own fraying nerves & sanity ) .  Marble countenance twists , breaks apart , maw splitting open like a BROKEN GASH in a show of sharp , too-many teeth ( this , as if a beast cornered , ready to bite & rend apart the antagonistic hand daring to reach for her in a spurious show of consolation ) .  Not one to be mocked , to be made a fool , she is WELL AWARE of what this is : a sort of Possession.  What else ?  And though she would want for nothing but to free her friend of such thrall , she refrains.  Who is she to cast stones when she , too , has defiled life and the course of nature ?  If not retaliation , then , is there little more to do for this but SUFFER IN SILENCE ?

Conflict passes across her features , plain and distraught , uncertain of w h a t to do.  She remembers her promise to Suguru – continue his will , watch over the family and do what must be done , at any expense – but does it also mean enduring this t o r m e n t ?

It takes several moments to gather herself back together , to collect the pieces strewn across the ground and cobble them back into place for s o m e t h i n g resembling normalcy.  Her smile returns , though strained , and Verona decidedly strides forward as she replies , ❝ Yes , in fact , I HAVE missed you.  Terribly.  Grief is such a wretched mistress , you know.  I fear I have entertained her too much without you here. ❞  A confession which comes through the bite of teeth ( can the remnants of his soul even hear it ? ) .  Once close enough , her hand rises , reaching out to catch upon the other’s jaw , s h a r p l y angling his head to meet gazes , own eyes bright and fierce with the edge of scorned contempt.  Verona’s touch is corrosive , hissing against skin , clawed nails digging into flesh , springing up blood ( be careful with him , a fleeting part of her warns , but a greater part of her is hungry for this violence , too eager to tear this false apparition open ) .  She sneers , ❝ And , you left me behind !  You ought know I do not take too kindly to such betrayals , to being left wanting … ❞

[strywoven]

@drippingheart has requested a story : With ample downtime on everyone's palms, Verona is met with the image of Mimiko and Nanako running through the terrace of their main headquarters. Completely dolled up from hair accessories to shoes, their giggles join the gentle fluttering of leaves in the wind and the incessant chirp of cicadas.   ' Come on, papa. Come on! ' 

Fifteen meters behind the girls, Suguru's voice carried through strong, surprising considering the gentle quality his tone always tended to carry.   ❛ Yes, yes. I'm right behind you. One of us should at least grab their wallet to pay for everything, mm? ❜ 

Despite the heat ( or to spite it specifically ), the onyx haired sorcerer donned midnight loafers and equally shadowy slacks while his top was more fitting for the warming temperatures — a light purple button-down rolled up at his forearms and with several of the buttons unfastened. After tucking his trademark bangs behind his ear, just to have them fall them askew again, sugilite hues spotted Verona across the ways, and the smile gracing his lips lifted another degree.   ❛ Care to join this rowdy crew? ❜  ' We're not rowdy, papa! '

𝑼𝒏𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

Semblance of t i m e has lost all meaning ( but still , unfortunately , the world continues to turn & all continue to live , suspended upon a continuum of mortality that she no longer has — ) .  The only markers which remind Verona of the aimless affront of the natural world are the changing seasons.  Yet even then , she stands a p a r t from it all ; detached , removed , excommunicated from all essence of LIVING .  She finds herself quite often like an observer rather than a participant ( how does one … remain human , if own humanity has been destroyed ? ) , simply watching life resume course while she remains fixed upon a point of undying and undoing ( & blessed be you , o’savage saint , for fate itself has always beheld you with the cruelest of smiles ) .

It is not lost on Verona that time has assuredly passed ( the induction into suguru’s so-called family & cause , the brief period of acclimation which followed , the moments of companionship spared between — ) , and the seasons have again shifted.  Though she is not quite sure how m u c h time , exactly , has passed , only keenly aware that winter has ended and ushered in the tidings of spring.  She must seem quite a bit OUT OF PLACE amongst the lively songfulness of the world ; this , a woman of DEATH & DREAD , preceded by a palpable chill and haunting aura which d e v o u r s the light and life of those who fall within her shadow ( yet never has such ruin looked quite so lovely ) .

Peals of f a m i l i a r laughter is what pulls the fearmonger from repose ( & just as well , the very thing she needed to hear ) , ears twitching and silvery hues charming with a spark of tenderness as she sees the girls rushing forth.  Posture turns , shifting minutely in place as her gaze follows the two – and so spiffed up , too , but for what occasion ? – before shifting towards Suguru meandering casually along after them.  Gilt brows raise , displaying a measure of s u r p r i s e for his own smart attire which so mirrors her own ( another commonality , then ? ) .  Forgive her for s t a r i n g ; men are typically not to par , but even she can admit … The look suits him.

Curious , Verona closes the distance , meeting him halfway across the green.  His invitation is unexpected , but appreciated.  Despite herself , she laughs softly ( a quiet , soft coupling of notes which fleetingly slip by the press of claws pressed over painted lips ) , shaking her head.  ❝ Oh , no , no , I could not possibly infringe on — ❞ She s t a g g e r s forward slightly , nearly jostling into the other man , her balance thwarted for all of a moment or two when OWN COMPANION pries himself from her shadow and knocks his great head into her shoulder , as if pushing her into the situation ( he knows , more than anyone , that the woman sorely needs a social hour with a decent friend ) .  It takes her a second to recalibrate from the infraction , silver eyes blinking rapidly before head swings ‘round over shoulder , sharp teeth bared.  Pandora gives a c h o r t l e , sinking back into the darkness beneath her stilted heels , glowing gaze blinking OH SO INNOCENTLY up at her as he returns to his post.

Verona huffs , upsetting wisps of white-gold upon her brow before she lifts her chin and restores her composure , looking back to Suguru with a smile.  The expression , which is so known to be a PERMANENT FIXTURE upon the marble of her features , is s o f t e n e d ‘round the seams and several shades more s i n c e r e .  ❝ — But , it seems I am not allowed to refuse such an offer , now am I ? ❞  A joke , of course.  ❝ I would love to join you all.  It would be my pleasure. ❞  Thoughtlessly , she reaches out , claws c a r e f u l as they graze along his face , tucking his dark hair back into place.  ❝ Where are we going ? ❞

[strywoven]

cont'd. / @saiakv

Makes for a rare , genuine moment – for b o t h , one might assume – and provides a fleeting , transient grasp at something most elusive : a peaceable occasion.  In this , if only for a time , they simply ARE ( put down your ire , she seems to have said without speaking the words , allow me to relieve the weight for a spell ) .

His reaction to her advances is PRICELESS , and precisely as she expects ; uncertain , flustered— It’s familiar , it earns him an e a r n e s t smile.  ❝ Was I supposed to merely take your gracious offering and do nothing with it ?  Oh no no , perish the thought , I am not the sort of woman. ❞  Their dance is jilted , a bit c l u m s y , even with Verona’s practiced and kindly guidance , there comes an every-so-often misstep punctuated by a sheepish laugh from both parties involved ( woe be to anyone who wanders in at this moment & catches them bonding in such a childish way ) .  He may claim to be out of practice , but he makes for a fast-learning student , easily enough usurping her lead and assuming the role of guiding their little ebb and sway through the room , the motions NATURAL & COMFORTABLE .  ❝ Besides , I do hope my efforts of making this place more spirited , ❞ A task he certainly DID NOT appoint ( even if the others seemed grateful for her efforts to provide a certain … lively soul … to his realm ) , but one she assumed upon merely crossing the threshold , ❝ Have not been entirely in vain. ❞

It is the shift in tone which catches her attention , she has not been here long but catches on well.  Own demeanor changes in kind , SHARPENING at the seams , resuming her usual aspect of the duplicitous creature ( how quickly she can change ) .  ❝ I might wonder why you call upon m e for such an answer , ❞ Gilt brows quirk.  Though , far be it for her to question his authority.  ❝ But , there are certainly ways to go about killing without the use of curses.  An assortment of them , really.  Take your pick. ❞  Rather clinical about the topic , coming from a woman who built business off of butchering others.  ❝ I , personally , DEVOURED my prey to rid the world of them.  And I wasted nothing , ensured no evidence. ❞

Words come forth candidly , she seems unconcerned with how he might react to such a confession ( so the rumors are true ) .  The needle skips and scratches the vinyl as the song finishes , plunging them into silence and stillness.  Verona remains entangled with the other , if only because the essence of the topic keeps her enraptured.  She grins , all teeth ; razored ivories , perfectly sharp.  She leans n e a r e r , the waft of own scent spilling off ( hazed & sweet ; an odd poppy-like smokiness that curdles & addles the senses — a constant illusory effect which precedes her very presence ) .  ❝ Tell me , is there someone … You need me to dispose of for you ? ❞  Telling that Verona seems almost EAGER TO DO SO , a predator’s glint alighting her eyes.

[strywoven]

cont'd. // @shlnlgamls

❝ Ohhh — ❞ Drawls , condescending and mocking , this woman ( if we may venture to call her so , for even demons these days might wear the flesh of the fair & favorable ) is not at all taking him seriously , ❝ — How pitifully remiss of you , to not already have done so !  You know what they say , death IS a mercy for us wretched souls. ❞  Despite her current predicament , Verona seems remarkably at ease , thinking it rather FUN to take a b i t e at his authority , at his merit ( & very well , too , does she wonder after the veracity of his claims ; like herself , this man does not strike her as the virtuous sort , he’d not do this lest it came with proper compensation ) .  And she is plain enough with her disdain towards him , her irreverence palpable as she regards him with that same , eerie s m i l e of hers , sanguine lips split by the seams just enough to show off sharpened ivories.

Verona adjusts her posture , challenging the grip of the shackles holding her steady and suppressing her energy , one long leg raising and crooking over its mate , s w a y i n g in an idle bounce as she contemplates his words , expression turning thoughtful.  ❝ I question your logic , ❞ She says at last , her tone turning serious , curious , ❝ I am not outright dismissing your offer , but I am simply … C a u t i o n i n g … You , hm ?  Loyalty is a rare commodity , that’s all , and I would h a t e for there to be some impromptu end of our partnership. ❞  A pointed look is given , a brief pause to allow her warning to sink in ( does he really understand who he’s talking to ? what he’s bartering for ? she can only hope he’s aware of the risks ) .

In the end , she sighs , head lulling back , posture slouching.  ❝ But very well , I did say I would honor my debts.  And this seems as good a way to do it as any. ❞  Her head lifts , looking at him again.  ❝ I shall work with you.  I do hope this … Might be all you hope it to be. ❞  For his sake , at least. ❝ Now , would you be a dear and kindly let me go ? ❞ 

[strywoven]

Precarious position , this , the queer – though fleeting – feeling of regard , the temper of offered consolation to own intolerable scorn which indelibly sustains her fractured spirit.  But there is more , deeper beyond thus , which picks the lock binding forked tongue ( speak to him , the tempting whisper comes , he might understand ) .  She mustn’t ; if she allowed herself the longed-for reprieve of an ear to listen each time it came to her threshold then ⸺ Well , she certainly would not be in any position to retain her mantle of power n o w , would she ?  It is , in her experience , far SAFER to keep the still-alive at length from herself ( at least then , perhaps , she may be spared further grief & the wounds loss shall bring ) .

At his words , her energy f l a r e s briefly , a minor flicker of indiscreet anxiety which causes the too-dark shadowy mass beneath her heels to SEETHE & WRITHE as if in p a i n .  It is restrained in the next instant , her features taking on a bemused , if not wry , sort of expression.  ❝ I think … To wonder if you often make it a habit to go out of your way to make such comforts for broken souls ? ❞  As ours seem to be , goes the unsaid sentiment.  Verona inclines her chin to him , l o w e r i n g her hoist to offer a show of deference , much as gratitude.  ❝ But do not think so lowly of yourselves , you and yours may not be a replacement , yet I can tell , ❞ She straightens , looking over to the girls again , her characteristic smile returning , sincere in form , ❝ It shall suit. ❞  Call it an INTUITION , a GIVEN ; but it feels like home ( & she’s not had that in too long a time ) .

❝ I couldn’t possibly intrude anymore than I have already , ❞ She continues , the curse at her feet seeping into the air , collecting around her in a mass of silken dark , weaving and churning as boned face conjures , amorphous shape s t r e t c h i n g beyond his master to tentatively turn a broad body coil harmlessly about Suguru’s shoulder , grumbling and growling as if trying to inject HIMSELF into the debate , pointedly g l a r i n g at the blonde with pinprick sparks within gutted sockets.  Verona watches , silver eyes thinned to crescents in mirth.  ❝ Though I suppose it would not hurt , given all the t o i l we do as is.  A little … Family time to ourselves is more than deserved.  It depends what you’ve in mind , of course. ❞  Her hand waves , the gesture coaxing the odd beast to recoil back to her , ❝ But please know , you truly have done much for me.  Helping m y heart ought to be the least of your concerns. ❞

Having suffered with his personal demons, selfish in a twisted way — where he and he alone suffered through teenager sorcerer crises of saving and failing to save with an utterly disgusting ability. To fight the endless monsters, he had to become one with them, consume them. No sorcerer could ever win the debate of most burdensome ability. Ever since his abilities developed as a child, he suffered being an outcast and premature death, yet it had all been a matter of perspective. Had he held the merriment and ego inflation as some, life would have been blooming flowers instead of putrid leaf litter.

When he failed to save a child's life and thought his best friend died unavenged, that felt so tremendously melancholy. The scars still stayed with him, naturally, but he had more to lose now. Less than seventeen years of turmoil was sweet confectionary when compared to what was at stake in the present. If he lost Mimiko or Nanako, he would cease to have a soul and know the suffering Verona experienced. Jujutsu society thought Getō Suguru a monster, yet a monster would truly be created if harm came to his family. He would annihilate until he ceased to exist; there was no life without his family even if he effectively purged Japan of curse creators.

He, of course, knew better than to throw salt into gaping wounds. It was rude and cynical to state one would die if such tragic things unfolded, but it wasn't rude to ask how one handled life after tremendous loss. For mere humans, they had religion, therapy, and their sense of self preservation to keep them alive. Verona and he were not normal. They were not human. People like them did not handle any aspect of life as humans did, and even then Verona @strywoven and Suguru were incredibly different. Perhaps, even if she wanted to escape the bondage of life, she could not. It was too intrusive of a question.

Her answer, however, seemed to say precisely that. No choice. Suguru would not argue with a person experiencing such grief, but her last remark did make him wonder . . It was one of those things humans said to alleviate their pain, but did it truly matter after death? They were dead and incapable of feeling joy or disappointment. Even if his daughters died prematurely and wished for their father to become a pacifist, he would still torch the Earth. Life was complicated. Death was only complicated for the survivors.

── ❛ I believe you as I couldn't even . . do not dare imagine if anything . . . ❜

Suguru shook his head to dispel his words. He already felt dreadful just thinking about harm coming to his family; uttering it would seem a sin. It was a stupid, human thought, but the superstition held him by the throat.

── ❛ I know someone else's family is not a replacement, but spend time with my daughters. They don't often get to meet new people, and I think we all could benefit from an excursion to help our hearts. What do you think? ❜

[strywoven]

An understatement it would be to say that this woman ( o’devourer , o’matriarch , o’fearmonger — ) had found some undeserved semblance of s o l a c e within these walls , beyond her own life ( that is , if we may call her existence anything which resembles living & being alive ) .  This room , especially , had been made into her very h a v e n , and one she strove to provide peace to her comrades of the cause.  Though rare is it that she saw many visitors beyond the curious – if not , at times , fearful – gawking from the threshold.  At least Suguru did her the favor of giving her … ENTERTAINMENT , insofar as making an offering of two capable young men to temper her capricious humors ( though she might rather have preferred a pair of women to accompany her through her days ; still , far be it for her to turn away another of his thoughtful gifts ) .  For now , the men remained ; tamed into a muted deference as if dogs chained and muzzled at her behest.

He says he does not believe Fate applies and she cannot quite suppress the disbelieving scoff which leaves her amid his speech ( he does not know , but she has seen it , she has knelt at its feet & supplanted its favor ; but look what it did to her in return ) .  Though she feels inclined to a r g u e , to d e b a t e , she regards him with a certain RAPT ATTENTION she does not often grant.  Perhaps because he has earned her respect , her loyalty.  Even her dangerous sense of devotion.

This , however , falters when he thinks to reach for her , to clasp her clawed hands within the fold of his own ; he is w a r m where she is chilled , he is g e n t l e where she is harsh and unrelenting.  He should not treat her this way , she thinks , he mustn’t ⸺ Yet he insists , he reminds her – as he does time and again these days – that she is part of his family , that there is still yet SOMETHING TO LIVE FOR .

Silence , then , and one conflicted , one tense and uneasy.  Verona stares , speechless , at the younger , gilt brows knitted and the sharp marble of her features furrowed with a look of bafflement most unlike her careful , ever-smiling poise.  Silvery hues fall to their joined hands , and for a moment , she invests in his words.  But the moment soon fades , just as well she slowly , carefully , withdraws one of her hands from his , lifting it to graze her touch along his flushed cheek ; tender , though fleeting as she retreats from him entirely.

❝ Suguru , I fear I’ve not been entirely honest with you. ❞  Perhaps now would be a good time.  ❝ I had reasons , formerly , but they were taken from me.  By OUR KIND , no less.  I cannot express to you how deeply that betrayal has wounded me. ❞  She allows this to sit between them for a moment before continuing , ❝ They were my sense of life , my sense of being.  And I lost them , I lost everything.  But I should also tell you , ❞ Her hands splay outwards , a gesture to encompass perhaps not solely the room but the whole estate , and in kind the greater prospect of their b o n d , ❝ Suguru , for all the ways I have lost my way , you , you most insufferable man — ❞ She deems him so with playful a f f e c t i o n , her lips curling at the seams , ❝ — Have allowed me a chance to find them again , have given me a sense of something n e w .  Do you understand ? ❞

Verona leans forward in her seat , tipping towards him , near enough to scent him , to t o u c h him.  ❝ I haven’t a choice on being alive anymore , but damned if it is not made worthwhile for having met you and your family. Hm , though I suppose the official story could be that music is the reason. ❞

Weeks had passed by since that proposal and the gifted room had now turned into a small haven within the festering temple walls. Albeit his cheeks held up by the invisible strings of his own resolve, Suguru loathed that place deeply — it showed in the way he walked with his hands covered as though not to touch too much. To him, the carpentry and floorings that dressed most parts were already soiled by the faithful who prostrated themselves on them. But the music room was one of those homely areas exclusive to his family members that posed as a musical oasis-alcove.

It is entirely an achievement of the woman that inhabits it nowadays; her soul fiery enough to light up the dreary tapestries and bring new life to the instrunments that had been left to collect dust. Now, they are always shining, courtesy of her appointed monkey-servants ( namely two lanky sons of a known investment banker that Suguru had drained of all other monetary possessions — until she grows bored and feeds them to her clan, or whatever; he still could not fathom how derives pleasure from consuming that which is tainted ) When he enters, wooden tray in hand, their gleam nearly blinds him as sunrays stroke the room's surfaces one last time before they fade. It is precisely the time to finish the day, wash down the fetid aftertaste of his arduous quest with the burn of sake.

Verona would be blind to think that these violets did not catch the haste with which she marched for her little alcove. Aside from his secretary & the twins, he is scarcely joined by other comrades, let alone any that would wish to approach her so casually; to think that she may welcome their company instead of wish to lurk in solitude, like a dragoness in her den. But of all the man-made monsters in their world, Suguru has willingly donned the crown. So he knows. Loneliness, reminiscence, scars; all monsters carry those burdens too.

Mindfully, he kneels on the tatami and bestows the treat of a warming shot of liquor, slides the tray before her with a soft smile to initiate the conversation. And with the same swiftness his fingers thread curses, he throws bait between each glass he pours for them both, guiding her to unearth the thoughts she had been running from before, seeking refuge under the melodies. Suguru paces himself with the glass always harboring a drop, but a few gulps fluster his cheekbones regardless. This stuff is strong.

❝ Let me be honest. I don't know if 'fate' is a thing that exists for anyone other than monkeys — but I prefer not to live my life as though it's governed by it. ❞ His gaze falls on the sake, reflecting the room's warm light as he pours her another shot of comfort. They are alike in that; people who find such comfort in the burn. Others guard themselves from it, but Suguru has always known that his skin is thin and will get scarred by this world one way or another. So he chose to scald it; to feel things deeply. To live. And in the way his companion stills in that moment, he sees that version of himself before the choice was made, when he was still floating, frozen — she deserves to have her fire rekindled too. For as dynamic as Verona seems, with all the ominous titles earned for herself and the fear for her clan of outcasts ( they are not wanted; but they are respected ) , she deserves to live as something more than a dog guarding graves.

❝ But I do believe it's important to find those reasons; the reasons to keep going. ❞ He smiles to himself at that, eyes fixed on the space between her feet. Their violet hues still; unmoving over the memory of piss stench, a dog bowl, Mimiko's bruised eye — there, amidst the rust on the bars, he'd found his reason. ❝ For people like us, every choice we make has an impact on this world; so it is important to use the time we have wisely. Because you can't know what happens after death, not until you die — but what happens while you live, is still within your control. At the end of the day, all you have left to follow is that call to action, your reason for getting out of bed in the morning. And, Verona— ❞ Warm hands dart forth, taking her coarser palms into his own. It is a sudden, assertive clasp that seeks to bring them closer.

❝ I personally vouch to protect your right to chase after that reason. Be it power, justice, love — it will be part of you. So it is part of my family, as well. If music is your reason, then we will fill this place with instruments from all around the world. Because your reasons are important to us. ❞ They are what keeps you here; what keeps you going, in spite of it all.