#🌻𝐼𝒞: 𝒜𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝐹𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝓊𝓃

[famiglia-lealta]

" I'm open to exploring!"

[famiglia-lealta]

"Just because you might be built of stronger stuff than the rest of us, doesn't mean that most of modern medicine doesn't apply to you. It just means that the levels need to be adjusted accordingly."

Neri sighed patiently as she pushed herself back to stand up, rolling her eyes that she would be keeping tea in her desk of all places. Disappearing briefly into one of the communal kitchen areas, she returned with a steaming cup of tea, placing it down in front of him.

"Here, this is a cinnamon blend. It's supposed to be good for aches and pains, which should help you out considerably, looking at the way you walked over here stiff as a board."

Unfortunately for Vergil, she didn't miss much when it came to noticing the vital details about her patient's care. Taking one of her biscuits, she chewed on it thoughtfully before leaning back in her own chair, swallowing before she spoke.

"I'm not particularly fond of the endless stacks of paperwork myself, but it's a necessary evil to keep things running even a fraction of smoothly. Plus, documentation procedures can be useful references when grievous mistakes are made - like letting some cocky half-devil run right back into the midst of battle before he's completely able-bodied to do so."

Her lips twitched in a smirk mirroring his own briefly, if only to indicate that having a bleeding heart didn't make her any kind of soft touch at all. Then she steepled her fingers, resting her chin on them as her tone grew more solemn.

"Look, I understand that you're worried about your friends, your family - a very relatable concern, I assure you - but I'm reluctant to sign you off if it means you'll end up right back on one of these hospital beds. Can you give me any kind of reassurances that you're not going to do something foolish?"

⚔ ────▪ ❛ 𝙼𝚄𝙲𝙷 𝙾𝙵 𝙼𝙴𝙳𝙸𝙲𝙸𝙽𝙴 𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙻𝚈 𝚃𝙾 𝙼𝙴, 𝙼𝚈 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚁 . ❜

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻ A 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙵𝚄𝙻 grin curled his lips, watching her face go from so pleasant to so insistently disapproving ; he was half-tempted to play along, but what use was there ? He was only half-human, and he felt fine. A little sore in the area where he had been hit, but that much was 𝚄𝚂𝚄𝙰𝙻 for a Sparda, and especially a Vergil. Had the man ever known a 𝙳𝙰𝚈 of no aches and pains ? No, he supposed not.

                          That didn't stop Vergil from walking 𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙵𝙵𝙻𝚈 into her area, stepping out of the way of whatever was going on ; he looked down at her and shrugged, subtly ( or not so subtly , as his expression that soon followed it gave away) he pushed into where his wound was and 𝙲𝚁𝙾𝚂𝚂𝙴𝙳 his eyes from a new sort of pain he had never felt. It was not the beginnings of infection, no, any infection would have burned off in the night. His body was simply too 𝙷𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙻𝙴 for bacteria to live long. She would have loved knowing that, Vergil suspected.                           ❛ Biscuits sound wonderful. You wouldn't happen to have any 𝚃𝙴𝙰 hiding in that desk of yours, would you? ❜ Peckish did not begin to describe how hungry Vergil was. The downside of being a 𝙲𝙰𝙼𝙱𝙸𝙾𝙽—burning through calories at unprecedented rates. He was not yet used to the hunger pains, yet. In time, he probably would, but for now, he slid into one of her chairs and brushed his vest off, inhaling softly. Even that was sore.                           ❛ You'll forgive me for not knowing, but I've been told that I need to be formally 𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙶𝙴𝙳 before I can leave. It's as if all of you have forgotten I am not human. Does the military truly enjoy all of this paperwork ? ❜                           Smirking, Vergil sat with his back straight against the chair, which seemed to 𝙰𝙻𝙻𝙴𝚅𝙸𝙰𝚃𝙴 some of his pain ; but that was par for the course for him. He left his hands to rest on either thigh and cocked his head to the side while she gathered and offered him her biscuits. He took one, but it took some time for him to put it to his mouth and sample. He found it 𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙰𝙽𝚃, though the texture a little chalky. ❛ How soon can I return to the field, speaking of. I would rather not leave my 𝚂𝚀𝚄𝙰𝙳 out there on their own, and I know my son and brother could do with the extra hand. ❜

[famiglia-lealta]

"..Seems like I'm going to have my hands full of the injured for awhile."

[famiglia-lealta]

There was something to be said about one's own hands being the instruments of destruction.

In her 'temporary' placement within the Varia's mansion, Neri had played the silent observer to a lot of atrocities that ranged from the mildly manic to downright despicable. Psychologists would have had a field day detailing the behaviors that seemed so common place to the usual residents.

Death was a scent permanently lingering in these halls - and yet, business would continue as it always had. Fresh bodies constantly to the grind like a never-ending revolving door and nobody seemed to bat an eye about why any of this might be cause for concern.

Truly - it made her feel sick to her stomach.

Not that she would ever dare to voice her thoughts on the matter. Weakness or the faint of heart weren't tolerated in the homes of hardened assassins - and she was barely tolerated as it was already. If the mafia in a wider, general collective thought she wasn't cut out for her work, the Varia was ten times worse.

Still, most of them were manageable. She'd formed something of a tentative bond with the Strategy Captain, although he made it very clear loudly so that this didn't prevent any grousing, nor would he hesitate to kick her out if she didn't pull her weight. The best she could hope for was the brief moments shared in a common room over a hot drink after a particularly difficult day, swapping banters about why swords were mightier than a pencil and a bandaid.

As for the rest of them, occasional pranks, violence or cruelty for the purpose of hilarity, she could handle all of that relatively fine. What she hadn't found a management style for yet - doubtful that she ever would - was the one sitting above them all, watching the roaches scurry around him, knowing full well that he could squash them at any time.

Xanxus.

Neri often found herself pondering on the best way to describe the sheer intimidating presence that this one individual carried with him wherever he went. Something akin to how a rabbit must feel with the eyes of predator trained onto their every breath of a movement. A constant, crushing dread that weighed heavy whenever he would entire a room. Even worse if he bothered to even look at you.

Never would there ever be a shade of red that would evoke the same chilling, petrifying fear as that stare. Textbooks would describe the fight or flight response in a moment of peril - but under the weight of that gaze, there was no fight.

You could only pray he'd be merciful enough to let you run.

"Oi. You got a problem, trash medic?"

Blinking out of her rather dark thoughts, Neri looked up to see that he was addressing her. Of course he was - she was pretty sure she was the only health-related staff here. "A problem, sir? What do you--"

"You were staring. Again."

Ah. That. Terribly bad habit, that. Getting so lost in her thoughts and pondering, trying to determine one's motives or character, she would run the risk of just staring intently at the target of her ruminations without even realizing she was doing it. Certainly not her smartest course of action when it was him involved.

"..Sorry, sir. I was just--"

"Always fucking staring." This was exactly the problem. If one happened to draw attention to themselves, the target might as well have been locked on. Her shoulders immediately stiffened as he turned to advance towards her. "I really didn't mean anything by it-- just daydreaming, lots to think about in a day-- really, you don't have to--"

Again, as always, he'd cut her off. He didn't need to listen to her, not when there was a point he clearly wanted to make. And as he'd learn forward into her small bubble of space, she would automatically lean back.

"You were staring earlier too. When that piece of shit fucked up my steak." His lips cracked into the beginning signs of a cruel smirk. An opportunity. A new game to play, another hole to pick into. "Looked pretty murderous, for a healer."

Her jaw tightened at that. Earlier. From what she'd overheard, the kitchens had been pretty busy running around trying to get each and every Varia member satisfied with their specific 'dietary requirements' - one of the poor chefs must have left the meat on a little too long. Still, they weren't the one to deliver it to the devil himself.

She'd watched the trembling man place the shaking plate down on the table. Watched those eyes move a fraction, assessing the quality of what was presented. The slight twitch.

People would assume that the most dangerous weapon Xanxus possessed was the matching guns he'd always kept on his person, routinely pulled out to shoot somebody if they'd displeased him. However - they would be wrong.

She could only ever watch as the much larger hand would latch onto the waiter's face, the edges of his palm beginning to smoke. Some stupid little remark about overcooking, and all that would be left after the burst of flames would be the charred remains of what was once an absolutely terrified face. Just another black, cindered stain for such a simple mistake.

Gods, how she hated him.

"There it is." He sneered, reaching out to snatch her chin in his hand, jerking it up so he could get a good view of how angry she was. Because for whatever his sick reasonings were - the sight of her losing her temper was some sort of 'proof' that she was no better than the killers she shared a roof with. "If you had such a fucking problem with it, why didn't you do something about it?"

Because he was her superior officer. Because.. it wouldn't have changed anything. Because she would have ended up in the same condition for her efforts, and she couldn't--

"Because you're a fucking hypocrite."

Neri let out a small noise of discomfort as her skin felt uncomfortably hot, the edges of his fingers burning faintly orange. Her heart must have been hammering loud enough for the both of them to hear it - and somewhere in the midst of the panic, the dread of whether today would be the day he'd finally reel the damn line in and stop toying with the fish - the worst feeling of all.

Wrath.

Suddenly, her head was jerked to the side, and he was hissing vitriol against her ear as if the mere presence of her disgusted him. "The next time I catch you staring at me, scum - you better be ready for me to do something about it."

Pushing her back against the wall, the Varia's head would turn away to continue on his original path, indifferent to how her legs buckled underneath her, sliding down to sit on the floor. For him, it might as well have been business as usual. Irrelevant. A small speck of entertainment, then life as usual.

For Neri though, trembling fingers felt against her face, still feeling the stinging warmth from that hand grasped against her skin. That hand, portraying as a God's that determined the difference between existence and oblivion. Being so close to the inferno of one's own demise..

It's not something so easily forgettable.

[famiglia-lealta]

All this talk of coffee, letters, flowers..

"..When was the last time I'd had anything like that..?"

[famiglia-lealta]

furby-organist // war flashback to the "vox has ass cables" rumor on here from back in the day

"I'm trying to decide if that was better or worse than the Vox has USB nipples debate."

[famiglia-lealta]

Nobody calls me Nerinda.

"My name is Neri." The freckled woman would give a warm, genuine smile every time she introduced herself to someone new. "Nerinda Salvai, but everyone just calls me Neri."

Nobody calls me Nerinda.

"Hell of a mouthful, isn't it?" The other officer scoffed sarcastically, "by the time anyone gets through with saying that name, they'd already be getting buried in the ground!"

Nobody calls me Nerinda.. Unless a situation becomes dire enough to warrant it.

"Oi, brat! Get the fuck up!" The harsh grunt was thrown over his shoulder as he'd kept ramming the door wish his shoulder. "How you gonna bitch about nobody gets left behind when you're staining the carpets?! Get up, Nerinda!"

Nobody calls me Nerinda.. Unless it's someone who knows the sentimentality behind the name.

"If the color of jewelry is in question, it would make sense that with skin such as yours - rich, vibrant golds are a must." Fingers that would gently brush along jawlines and cheeks dusted with pink. "I don't mean to embarrass you with my compliments, Nerinda.. but you truly are beautiful.

Sometimes, a name can be used to hurt--

"You're nothing but a naive child. This is how the real world works, Nerinda. You either grow the fuck up, or you don't grow any older."

..But they can also be reserved for the ones you love most.

"I wish your mother could have seen you like this, Nerinda. You truly are my shining little girl."

Names are a form of power and status - meaning and impression - no different than the clothes that we wear to show what kind of person we aim to be.

And it is to some, the strangers, the friends, those whom I help along the road - I am but simply Neri.

To those for whom I would entrust my life and maybe more;-

Should you call me Nerinda - I will answer your call.

[famiglia-lealta]

The fact that anyone in Hell would bother to knock at all was the first call for suspicion. Especially in such a musical fashion, she almost had to wonder..

But no, surely not. That was so very long ago, it might as well been only the flicker of a far off memory.

Pulling off some dirty gloves, she tossed them in the wastebin as she moved to open the door - honestly, she was just expecting another plea for free drugs she didn't even have. "Yes, can I help..?"

Words caught in her throat as in an almost comical fashion, she looked from the face to the big fluffy ears down to the hoofs-in-boots back to the face again. A moment of silence passed, before the door was swiftly shut. A few seconds later, it was opened again, and Neri pressed a hand to her face.

"Right, this is it, isn't it? It's finally happened. They all warned me it would - I suppose I'm just a little late blooming to it, why isn't that a surprise? I've gone completely mad. That's the only explanation for this. The working too hard, the lack of intelligent conversation-- of all the people an addled brain could of conjured, why is it focusing on you?!"

@famiglia-lealta, you're on the air!

Alastor was not a man prone to sentimentality. Shocking, perhaps, given his affinity for all things antique! But his interest in the past laid more in the hands of a practical sensibility, of what those old relics were capable of and what they represented in the cultural zeitgeist of his own era. He admired them, because they had proven themselves worthy of his admiration.

Once he'd come back from his seven - year hiatus, admittedly, there were very few places he felt he needed to revisit. Hers was ... not a need, precisely, though certainly the urge to see his would - be doctor was compelling. And she had been the first person that popped to mind when he was pondering just which positions at the Hazbin Hotel still needed occupation. The girl was surprisingly durable, stubborn in the face of opposition, and fiercely dedicated to her own beliefs however little Alastor had come to understand them in the few debates they'd had on the subject. She and Charlie would cooperate swimmingly.

Maybe, in this occasion, he was feeling a little sentimental at the prospect of seeing a familiar face, after his time away.

The door to her practice was tapped with a knuckle, beating out a jaunty rhythm before the hand retreated behind his back once again as Alastor awaited her greeting.

[famiglia-lealta]

Unexpectedly -

... I may have found a friend.

[famiglia-lealta]

jetblackknight asked: ( the below coupon seems to be made in haste only because of the owner's extremely recent knowledge of Nerinda's birthday. )

( on the back is a printed note which reads ' at least until I can gift you something better ' . the text is still as elegant as the script on the front, as if written with care. The torn edge seems to be that of an unspecified journal. )

Really, she'd only mentioned her birthday as a passing thought - she hadn't been expecting anyone to go to any fuss over it. Especially not in the form of such a sweet gesture, never mind if it was on a torn out journal page or not. If anything, that just made it feel all that more personal.

"Who on earth is going to want a six hour long hug?" Neri chuckled to herself, rubbing at her eyes for a minute before placing the gift in the front of one of her own journals for safe-keeping, staring at it with a fond smile. "Tu, uomo ridicolo. I'll have to thank him by using it, the next time that I see him."

[famiglia-lealta]

"Goodness, where does the time go..?"

"I've been so busy lately, I almost forgot about my own birthday!"

[famiglia-lealta]

"Well, I doubt the exterminators would listen - but that still shouldn't doinh something non-violent about it!"

> "Hmm, what if we peacefully protest the extermination?"

[famiglia-lealta]

"Vooii. So if the spider shit married your pops, making him your mother - if I shacked up with him, would that make me the stepdad?"

"I'm not listening. You're all incredibly immature and I hate you."

[famiglia-lealta]

arachn0philia "Now you gotta."

"I'm not entirely sure which sells the best image."

"Here are the assassins! The medic might heal you up if you're lucky. Or here's the medic! When she's not looking, we'll kill you!"

[famiglia-lealta]

boundcd asked: "So when do I get to look forward to you learning to control me?" to neri lmao

"..I beg your pardon--?!"

"When-- Why would I need to control you?!"

[famiglia-lealta]

Anonymous asked: hey nerrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiii- somethings happening

"Per fotte.." Neri muttered under her breath, massaging her temple. Giving Squalo a meaningful look, she grabbed a bottle of tequila and put two fingers in her mouth, giving a sharp loud whistle.

"Dinner's on!"