#( verse: distinguished failure (fatenetwork) )

[madamhatter]

toneofdarkness replied to your post: ♧ (maybe Hokuto's promise ring cause it's...

(( Rei vc: “WHO THE HELL’S GETTIN’ MARRIED??” /NO

 “Rei Sakuma, be nice about this proposal. Or, so help me, I will drag you into a chapel.”

[madamhatter]

summer haze

@friendlyneighbourhoodscientist​ 

    “What is wrong with this building and heat?!” Flooding from her lips were irritated murmurs. Sophie had gripped the side of her hat, releasing her frustrations in one way or another. She had already rolled up the sleeve of her button down, even picked up her usual braid into a messy bun! As much as commitment and loyalty swept her feet to approach Komui’s officer whenever the opportunity arose, the science wing’s horrendous temperatures during the summer were of the small regrets she faced. She withdrew her hat from the top of her head, pathetically fanning herself. 

   Organizing through Komui’s papers would’ve come another time when even she was wanting to seek shelter under the large shadows from said towers. Scoping through the discord that was Komui’s office, her thoughts began wandering. Her free palm flattened the creases of her gray slacks.

    “Komui, are you alive--?” The woman called out, eyeing over her section of the office. A soft frown surfaced as she finally moved in her gray boots, eyes scavenging for the lanky legged professor. “Please tell me you didn’t pass out,” Sophie sighed out loud as she tucked back one of her rare silver hairs behind her hair. “I can’t handle the heat by myself.”  

[madamhatter]

‘And I won’t forget. no matter what. ’

* THE ROAD STARTERS / not accpt.

      Endearing – the heiress of the isles had such a sweetened view on the topic of memories. The conversation was, in Sophie’s opinion, unprompted from their original conversation of bouquets and the wildflowers growing nearby the borders of the sister-cities. Yet, a little gravely reminder emerged, reality had spoken up to her. Sophie did have the tendency of rambling under her breath if her eyes and heart were caught in the right trap of emotions. That much was true.

   Aimless in thought and conclusion over this turn, her fingers were preoccupied with a pen that rolled between the tip of her fingers. Eyes averting from Kajika, Sophie instead gazed towards the horizon with her lips sealed. 

    In front of her, there was an unfinished sketch of a dress that her younger sister, Lettie, was persisting that she needed for the autumn ball. With the grand success that was Lettie’s yearly May Day outfit, it seemed that said sister was wanting to take full advantage of a new event (and older sister). 

     “I can understand that,” reasoned the elder woman as her voice unnaturally lowered from its usual authoritative and blunt force. Her lips barely parted as she continued in musing. “It’s always good to remember everything -- that’s what I do.” Sophie’s thumb began clicking at the end of her pen, her eyes now focusing on the cement ground and the tip of her smudged boots.

     “But, don’t you wish you could just have the choice of forgetting it too? Like, you have this button where you can put everything in storage, where it just doesn’t need to bother you. You can just continue your day, not barricaded by these terrible, terrible thoughts and memories that could keep you --”

     “....Kajika, what were we talking about again?” 

[madamhatter]

tresses and dresses

   ‘Now, where is that bat?’ Unconventional to the whim and ways of Miss Hatter, she hadn’t predicted or planned these turns of events within her return to Ouvara-Danon. Photo opportunities weren’t ever new to her, truthfully, she had been managing them through her teenage years and remained prominent in the process when she could. However, it had been the model at question who she had strangely found herself compelled to hire. Or, admittedly, she ended up entangled in her own mess and began this exchange. 

     In reviewing her own thoughts, she knew that the event was going to bite her in the back of the ass-- minus the fact that her model happened to be a “vampire.” Body modifications were made for the dress to support the male who was meant to the star. Though, part of her was waning in her confidence, unsure if the dress would be able to survive with him in it. Perhaps, that’s where his confidence came in. Where one fails, the other succeeds. Or, she was just hoping that some assurance would come once she saw him.

       Aimlessly in her thoughts, her hands were folded on her laps and her ankles crossed. Seated alone on the couch, the silver-and-brown haired woman skimmed through the papers in her possession. Just how long was he going to take? One glance was given to her phone as she softly tapped on it, reading the time. It was already the mid-afternoon. And, there were no messages. What a strange sight was it to have not one simple message from Officer Fangs. 

     “I hope you’re alright--”  Sophie murmured under her breath and frowned. 

@toneofdarkness is ready for a fashion shoot!

[madamhatter]

peacock blue

COLORFUL HEADCANONS. /  send me a copic color for a headcanon | acpt.

PEACOCK BLUE: Is your muse honest? what sorts of lies do they tell, if not?

      Honesty is a tricky subject for Miss Hatter. She is able to speak her mind if it regards someone else. Recommendations and advice come rather easy for the Hatter since it’s been her job to cater to others. Her own outlook on others can also be easy since she isn’t shy of speaking her mind.

      Now, if it’s in regards to her personally, good luck. Miss Hatter may be a respectable woman on the outside but she isn’t one to shy from lying. She won’t mention what bothers her, what she truly feels about herself, or the circumstances of her own life (or state of mind). Expressing her own emotions for someone or considering the future with someone isn’t something she would dare mention too. 

        However, to elaborate, Sophie does a LOT of self-denying and believes that the people of the present are fleeting. Meaning, Sophie doesn’t believe the good things are going to last, be it from the people she knows or the conditions. And, she really rejects herself the potential of being happy – there’s always the doubt behind everything she does, since, she knows her ending is being her family’s leading face, the scapegoat for the inevitable failure of the company (as the eldest of three are destined for failure). So, that’s where a whole lot of her lying stems from. 

    As well, I haven’t been able to involve this side of her in FN yet but, she is a businesswoman past being a seamstress. Being a liar and somewhat ruthless would be quite common whenever she is in her CEO mode. While she offers sympathy and kindness to her employees and everyone else, she tries to be cunning and manipulative. The woman will lie if it means making guarantees about stabilizing relations and contracts. 

[madamhatter]

🎸

 WARM AND FUZZY MEME! SEND AN EMOTICON FOR MY MUSE’S REACTION… / acpt!

🎸 YOUR MUSE PLAYING MUSIC/SINGING FOR MY MUSE

    Virtuoso wasn’t of the many skills under the eldest Hatter’s belt; her fingers practiced more with handcrafts and creations, her mind kept active with organizing and scheming, and her mouth moved through negotiations and conversations. The heiress had only met so many who were compelled to take upon an instrument and shed their restless minds of the countless music sheets and notes that resonated in their mind.

         Out of the Hatters, only her late father had taken interest towards playing the piano. As instructed by his parents when he had begun recognizing himself as an heir meaning to take a mantle, (and well, what parents to a prodigy wouldn’t take advantage of their power over the child?) the late 28-year-old kept a piano in the manor for his own entertainment. For over 14 years, the grand piano in the study was laid to rest at the same time he finally passed. Only dust and cobwebs would’ve covered it, if it had not been for his daughter’s vigilance in cleanliness and tight-grip on keeping his memory alive.

            Alas, her minimal interest in the keys of monochrome recently returned to the shores of her attention. Pacing back and forth with her hands folded behind her back, her anxiety-induced walk was accompanied by the gentles strokes of scales and arpeggios on a grand acoustic piano that taken a majority of the space. With her hands promptly folded behind her back, she only kept herself in rhythm with every five steps, she turned on her heel and continued. Against the panes of the windows of the sitting room, pelts of rain had taken form and quietly thudded against the glass, inspiring some sense of percussion from Mother Nature herself.

            On the black and glossy bench to the front of the piano sat Hokuto Hidaka, a young man who took favor in perfectionism with whatever interest or task fell upon his shoulders. Shoulders back, and his chin high to avoid looking at the keys, he paced through simply melodies as practice such as beginner-friendly tunes like “Haru ga Kita” and “Yurikago no Uta.” No doubt, he hadn’t need to go over such basic songs, from what she heard from his improvisation between the single notes. Yet, who was she to nudge her head in when it was he who was wanting to hone the skill? 

      “Hokuto–” The British woman cleared her throat, having paused in her aimless circles and her hands folded to the front of her diaphragm. Pausing his review, the taller and younger turned over his shoulder, focus narrowing towards the elder. She rubbed the back of her scarred palm with equally scarred fingers, messing with the charcoal cardigan sleeves too. The woman raised her head and offered a tired smile, one small and mousy. She finally opened her mouth and inquired, “May I sit with you?” 

      Without needing an answer, Hokuto had glanced down to the bench and scooted towards the left, reserving a spot for the peppered haired woman. Flattening out the bottom of her a-line gray skirt, the woman slid from the right side of the bench and taken her seat. She crossed the front of her boots, ensuring that her ankles kept their place as she looked up and down the keys that Hokuto had been frequently studying. “Thank you,” she turned towards the man, warmly revealing some warmth under the often-regarded coldness that had been “Miss Hatter” rather than “Sophie.” 

     “May I ask why you’ve been practicing so much?” The inquiry came as Hokuto nodded his head and turned his attention to the keys, explaining his background, “I have a newfound interest in an old hobby; I hadn’t played in quite some time.” Irises of cerulean had drunk once more at his stage and his hands rested at the edge of the piano, his fingers barely scratching the front of the pristine keys. 

       “You play wonderfully for someone who is trying to imply they’re out of tune,” hummed Sophie as she turned her attention towards the other, aware of the small shift in personality. Had her compliment gone far with him, or, was he reconsidering letting her sit at the bench when she had barely any knowledge of instruments? “Thank you, Miss Hatter,” he bowed his head, but, he left himself space to add this clause, “But, that’s just beginner’s luck and hard work; I need to practice more.” 

     “Of course, of course, practice doesn’t make perfect, but, it’s satisfying.” Sophie elaborated on his point, but, she tilted her head slightly. “I know you’ll make it; you have your eyes set on dedication, even someone as old as me as can see it.” Upon that strange remark, Hokuto turned towards her once more, not wide-eyed or aghast, but, curiosity had lingered over his head from  “Excuse me, but, Miss Hatter, has my playing caught your interest?”

     “Ah–” Sophie cleared her throat, feeling the moisture drying at the question that was leading to large pools of awkwardness in her mind. While not his fault, opening the doors in conversations for her true feelings – ones that weren’t charged by irritation and defensiveness – only led to situations created by her anxiety. She knew better than to fall for such pit traps, but, habits were quite hard to undo. “Smart question,” Sophie replied simply, glancing down to the piano and back to Hokuto.

     “While I’m no musician, I am familiar with the piano. I used to hear it a bit back home–” Sophie abridged answer. “You can blame my nostalgia taking over me, I shouldn’t be interrupting your practice, I’m sorry for that.” She initially dismissed herself with a gentle wave of the hand as she then rested her hands on top of her lap, engrossed in the piano again.

   Attentive over the change in the older sister, Hokuto had adjusted himself on his seat and turned to her. It seemed that she was holding back or caught in the moment of the piano. “Is everything alright?” He asked once, concern noticeable but his placid expression hadn’t flashed any detrimental worry that she often had. 

    “Forgive my selfishness, but, may I ask you to play a song?” Sophie abruptly asked, her voice softer and quieter as she looked once more to him, eyes wide with guilt and want. “I would try, I may not know the song,” Hokuto agreed with a fair warning towards. “I’ll show you– it isn’t one you’ll learn in books.” 

    After dividing the piano in two, notes having been discovered after trial-and-error from Sophie’s humming, to reflecting on hand gestures performed by her own father, the simple song from a lifetime ago was fairly easy for the younger to pick up. As she had told him, it wasn’t one he ever heard of before, yet, it seemed cemented into the core of her being to recall the notes and range it was in. Even if she had hovered her hands, with her tongue slightly stuck out in her contemplation, her hands were mimicking appropriate hand coordination for a pianist.

    “I’ll be covering the chords, you can cover the melody,” Sophie assured the man as the scales for the song weren’t far complicated. She had even tapped the frame of the piano, indicating the rhythm of the song and even the intervals between each rest. It hadn’t been perfect, yet, it was one that slowly came back with her memory. 

     “My father–” She felt her stomach pit as she began opening up. She attempted to reproach, but, nostalgia had taken her and pushed her. “and I used to do a duet like this before everything happened.” Sophie nodded her head, trailing her fingers down the loose ponytail that rested over her shoulder. At this degree and closeness, Hokuto spotted that among the brown locks, there was a grand abundance of long silver locks hidden under most. Some were even beginning at her roots.  “Shall we?” Sophie turned to him, smiling once more 

    Between the disheveled cardigan resting past her shoulders and the borrowed gray jacket that he worn, on this gloomy afternoon, his hands began to play over a song that was almost as old as time itself for the eldest Hatter. With each key played towards the beginning, Sophie had kept her eyes down on the eyes, her moose irises widening and she mouthed to herself.

     One hand drew towards her chest as she finally drew her fingers close to the three chords that were in her possession. She took a soft breath and she closed her eyes, swaying a bit– 

   “The tears shroud my smile, hide the joy within my heart..” Barely audible for the world around them, Sophie murmured along with the lyrics that once belonged to a lullaby of a man who was now gone, resting quietly underneath a tomb. While her voice could’ve easily drifted off with the wind, it had been best sweetly gentle as she barely moved her lips in her singing. As each word slipped through her mouth, her memories had only fluttered back to the clingy Lettie who had to be held and sung to when it had stormed and wasn’t able to sleep. Even with the smaller children she had met in her journeys, holding them and comforting them with rocking and swaying had become so much easier with the years she sang off a memory.  “And deep somewhere there lies a promise as old as time.” 

    In another world, to where she wasn’t the eldest destined for misfortune and blandness in her life, maybe then she had would’ve allowed her to actually have children to sing this to. But, within the limitations of running a company and undoing the debt and damage from her parents’ past, it was only one of the many dreams fleeting. Yet, whenever the song came to her mind, and out of her lips, it had taken her to the days where the sun was still high, and her lanky-legged father took his first pride and promised a future that wasn’t folly to the burden of being an heiress.  All she could do was reflect on the past she mourned quietly, taking all she could to relive such a simple dream of having that –if, at all, any – choice. 

          “Even though I’m alone now, this day arises anew..” But, this was a song of remembrance beyond what she had considered for herself once. It was a parting gift from her father to her mother, and a parting gift from him to his children as she quietly slipped from his world. ‘Move along from those memories, for I’ll always be there,’ the messaged urged the woman who clung to the coat tails of the past, ‘the world around you has so much more.’ 

    “Goodness–” Sophie dabbled the corners of her cardigan towards the corners of her eyes. As she finally opened her eyes, she found that her world had been blurry, droplets visible on her sleeve. But, her other hand continued playing the chords, now just a shadow to the once sung lyrics. 

     “Let’s keep this a secret.” She murmured to Hokuto, her brows knitting as her composure was eaten by awkwardness and embarrassment for having shed her reminiscent tears. But, she turned back towards the piano, taking a soft breath, continuing once more.

        On the gloomy afternoon, where the rain pelts accompanied the chords of a song that was of the world, an old soul and young soul returned to a road of sentiment. For what they had in their memories weren’t needed to be worried, for the jovialness of the past was present in the stirring of the clouds outside, the sugary scent on konpeito nearby, and the quiet company that both shared with another. 

[madamhatter]

sobriety & somber

confronting this: x 

         Separating beast from man, heartlessness from the weakness of the heart, one of the many intricate divisions Miss Hatter had answered throughout her years of evaluating others from the sidelines she desired to be. Monsters weren’t the fabled fantasies she heard as a young child; she was among those who pricked her fingers and stained her hands with these necessary evils monsters needed to thrive. 

      Several souls treaded between the gray that riddled the pockets of their world, and, were they truly monsters? She should’ve known better at the moment she commented on it. 

       How uneasily did her fingers flinch at the drenched laughter of someone far beyond treating himself kindly? They slightly twitched at what magic he infused to his views on the world, sprinkling fairy dust as if it were a blinding agent to whatever truly resonated behind such a misty mind. 

     Retreating was her hand pinching the bridge of her nose. Instead, it was exchanged from annoyance to control as she rested her cupped hand over her mouth, contemplation prioritized for the wakeful other. 

     “That I understand, Rei. Reactions are what you seek and you have had your fair hand in conspiring such tricky circumstances.” The woman withdrew her hand, but, her gaze was sparing as she delved into the untouched waters of her thoughts that only rippled out from her lips. “There are many ways a man may feel secure in his place if he attempts to see through all while he wades through waters uncharted and unknown.” 

    Defiance had been what eased the eldest daughter from shedding her mask of pleasantries. Yet, it had become barred in her mind from retaliating such ridiculous remarks. To be a lich was to be one who was void of affection, memories, laughter, hatred, glee, sadness. Yet, where was that in his being? She recalled that she could, she wanted to rememorize and solidify her confidence in the otherwise, in the positive for once. 

    There was no way in hell was he speaking the truth. Something thumped and rattled in that rib cage, something grinded and eased the gears at his mind, something was there. There wasn’t an expired man left in the waste -- none at all. She knew it. 

  “All we know is what you present to the world. A personal narrative is what we wish to preserve in the world once our untimely end comes and reaps us of another chance. To make such grandiose statements that you’re the undead without any sense of being mortal, you must realize there are intricate details that refute such things. Such small things that you do without intention that splices such claims. ” 

    The woman rubbed her hands, glancing down to empty palms that held no physical evidence that would’ve refuted him. All that littered her being were reminders from the marred scars that ruined her. Her hands twitched as she hadn’t opened her mouth, but, it was a shudder that only made her close her hands. 

   Her eyes finally met his. 

    “You make yourself out to be the monster that you believe you are.” 

[madamhatter]

😙: affection, 😢: feeling sad, 👙: beach

Send an icon to make my muse send 5 texts to your muse about… | not acpt.

😙: affection

「 Sent to: Officer Fangs Mr. Sakuma」⇨ Rei, this generation only concerns me with each passing day. Just now, at the front of my own store, there was a pair of children, probably between the ages of 16 to 17, snogging in broad daylight! Where is their sense of privacy?

「 Sent to: Mr. Sakuma」⇨ My own business was outright disrespected. as was everyone else who could’ve seen such an inappropriate action! Doors exist for a reason and intimacy is private for a reason! By chance, what can be defined as a ‘lewd act’ in order for someone or someones to get arrested? 

「 Sent to: Mr. Sakuma」⇨ Ah, I apologize. My own temper was reaching its boiling point. Just the nerves of an old woman, nothing more. 

「 Sent to: Mr. Sakuma」⇨ I can’t imagine, though.. Can you ever imagine yourself doing that? Goodness, goodness.. 

「 Sent to: Mr. Sakuma」⇨ Oh? Hm, that was just a silly rhetorical inquiry. 

😢: feeling sad

draft - last Monday - 3:30 A.M.「 To: Mr. Sakuma」⇨ Rei, I’m sorry to bother you this late. However, this is the fifth night and I can’t sleep. There are too many things that are boiling in my mind. I would think age would stop but, age only worsens things. 

draft - last Monday - 3:32 A.M.「 To: Mr. Sakuma」⇨ It’s silly to ask this, but, can you stay up with me? I’m sorry for bothering you. 

draft - Wednesday - 2:58 A.M.「 To: Mr. Sakuma」⇨ I’m sorry for how poorly I’ve been treating you. 

draft - Wednesday - 3:00 A.M.「 To: Mr. Sakuma」⇨ How can you even put up with me? 

「 Sent to: Mr. Sakuma」⇨ Were you feeling alright this morning? I could’ve sworn something was off. If you need anything, please let me know. 

👙: beach

「 Sent to: Mr. Sakuma」⇨ So, as someone with photosensitivity, what was the reason behind moving to an island close to the Mediterranean? As a servant of the law, you are responsible for the livelihood of many, regardless of the time of day. How are you able to withstand being out in the sun if duty calls? Are you regulated to “bench-warming” a seat in the police department? 

「 Sent to: Mr. Sakuma」⇨ I suppose that the beach must be one of the worst locations you could be called to. Personally, the location isn’t as luxurious as most refer to it as. Sand in your shoes as your chase a felon, having to avoid sun-bathers and bare arses like you’re in the 2020 Olympics…

「 Sent to: Mr. Sakuma」⇨ Nothing is as breathtaking as the beach during the nighttime, though.. Not many pestering busybodies are nearby. The whole ocean is practically the sky itself from how clear it is. If you were to wander off into the night, o’ Prince of the Night, I do recommend that detour to the North Danon beach. 

「 Sent to: Mr. Sakuma」⇨ However, back to the matter at hand, being you and the beach. 

「 Sent to: Mr. Sakuma」⇨ If you’re ever out in the blistering heat, be sure to wear sunscreen and always carry plenty of liquids with you. Alright? 

[madamhatter]

☂ for Sophie

WARM AND FUZZY MEME! SEND AN EMOTICON FOR MY MUSE’S REACTION… / not acpt!

☂ YOUR MUSE SHIELDING MY MUSE FROM RAIN

      Drenched to the bone had been the woman of gray, squatting by her lonesome, in front of a bed of flowers in Serenia Park. Distant to the world had been the woman of 22 who, admittedly, aged faster from the expectations bestowed by the reality that was her status as an heiress and eldest. More insignificant than ever before, her body had shrunk down to the size of the “grey mouse,” a title she had been dubbed behind her back or in her face.

       Droplets from the light shower of long ago had come and sprinkled her hair and her back when she first arrived at the park, needing some escapism before her semi-annual breakdown could’ve begun. For such a reason, the woman was gravitated towards staying within the lavish labyrinth of flora in a poor woman’s attempt to prevent herself to return to the pathetic reality she knew. 

    The white noise had filtered through her thoughts and festered ever so manically, eroding the facades of the guardian, the wise old woman, the ruthless businesswoman, and much more. Immobilized in her pestering and heavy thoughts, she had stuck closer to the reminders of dreams never meant to be hers, for they smelled of the sweetness that she had no right to. Yet, all that was left behind was the troubled Sophie, not Miss Hatter or the eldest Hatter, refusing with adamancy to return to a place that’ll lay her to waste.

    In a compulsive move, she dared not seek shelter from the rain once the summer showers returned in greater numbers. Scurrying bodies of families, heartful teenagers, wild-sprung children were quick in retreating from the water falling from above. It hadn’t been new for the woman to wander through such troubling weather when her own life had been covered with mist and each step she took was cautious and all ways she may take were hazardous. 

     However, the turbulence of ambivalence ached the composure of a woman who feigned happiness for the sake of stability. Frustration, anguish, regretful, and wistful were all clashing in her chest and she swore her rib cage was hollowing out whenever her thoughts plummeted. What was the point of resisting the inevitable? She should be thankful for being where she is, no matter how she felt. The eldest of three were meant for misfortune, the one to fail first. And how could she counter that if she was meaning to run a company, no less, hold together her family’s name? 

       Already, her phone had been going off several times since her sudden disappearance from the morrow. She hadn’t checked her phone, but, she could’ve predicted the onslaught of unanswered text messages and phone calls from her sisters, Martha and Lettie, and mother. The same people who driven herself to do anything and everything for, that kept her relatively on this Earth, weren’t the people she needed at the moment.

      She wished she just didn’t need anyone and kept on living. She was needed by others but, to imply she felt the same, was far too alien. But, she’s human, she’s a creature of comfort and socializing, needing the conversation and all. It was taxing on the mind of Sophie, one who meant to keep in place and dirty her hands for whatever it takes to keeping order in her household. 

      God, I’m a mess. 

        Deserted by hope and optimism, the pessimistic eldest daughter stared blankly towards the bed of lilies, kissed by the pelting rain, as they guided down white petals and across the thin stems. Once the storm passed, she’ll return to the routine of Miss Hatter and be on her merry way, forcing the doors shut over the doubt and frustration that dared leak out. However, for now, she wanted to breathe in summer flowers and shut her eyes, to dare daydream. But, who was she to daydream when she knew better? It was childish and she was decrepit and old, she shouldn’t fall back on such things.

        Sophie crossed her arms over the soaked black tights that hugged her legs. Clinging to her body, she realized, had been the thick wool cardigan of charcoal, along with the white button-down meant for the image of professionalism she had to carry. Her fingers gently tugged at the cardigan’s ends, breath leaving and her shoulders sinking. A crisp wind blew, and her body shivered, her gray skirt barely following the wind’s pattern.

    However, her eyes were still on the lilies before her, with all the rain dripping on them. She squinted to the flowers, to then her sleeves. They were already heavy, but, they weren’t getting heavier. Instinctively, she held out her arm towards the placid lilies, seeking out the comfort of the petal’s soft touch. But, as she was narrowing her eyes, the stuck out hand was once more greeted by the heavy rain as her calloused fingertips brushed against the petals.

   “Strange,” Sophie murmured. 

    “What ‘tis strange?” Inquired another. 

     Slowly raising her head, color already depleting from her face, Sophie’s head turned and found herself staring at the slacks of black. However, her eyes need not scour higher than needed as the notes of familiarity rang. The tone of tiredness, accompanied by a soft yawn, with the slowly drawn syllables were only of one who she simply called – 

     “Rei?” Bafflement was enunciated as her eyes still traversed upwards. Shielding her own emotions were beyond any means of possible at the moment. However, her own inquiry left softer than expected, and her surprise was only seeded with the doubt that had already casted over her mind.

     Office Fangs, the restless bat, prince of the night– Oh so many nicknames flooded her mind but, she knew all led to Rei Sakuma. Earthly irises of wood had honed upon the otherworldly irises of crimson, silence consuming whatever they had wanted to penetrate into the encounter. No matter how many times she had been familiar to the mischievous spark in his eyes, there were the rare exceptions to when his gaze adjusted to a strangely softer kind. It hadn’t been in her business to inform him of it, but, that what happens when she kept staring at him after all this time. And, it was quite apparent that his gaze was different. 

   With a kick to better take in her surroundings, she noted the black parasol in his hands, large enough to cover himself. But, when close enough to someone else, it was able to cover them as well. His hair, wildly curled outward and with volume, had been neatly held up in a ponytail, framing him his face nicer than usual. However, that was to imply that he didn’t look nice usually, which was ridiculous. Still, if his hair was only loose— 

     He had, overall, been in better shape than the abysmal mess of her being squatting on the ground, looking madder than a Hatter. No wonder he finds me strange…

   By the stroke of luck, perhaps this morning led the police officer around on duty for he wanted all advantage of the sun rays hiding behind stormy clouds. Sophie rationalized the sudden and strange appearance of the officer to be no more than Lady Fate’s estranged curse of bonding her to such a strange and dark figure. It wasn’t as if she didn’t answer his bombardment of messages, and wasn’t even at her store during a surprise “check-in.” It surely had to be a coincidence or bad luck. 

      Now, what to say, what to say? Part of her was already exhausted from diving into the deep end of her problems, the other wasn’t wanting to see anyone. Perhaps, chastising him with a lie that she was in the rain to get rid of his scent would’ve ended this quickly. She didn’t want to be the gnat at his side, who was taking up precious time. If she made a quick mention of Koga having smelled him all over her, then, maybe he would’ve fled. But, this was Rei. He wouldn’t leave if his own person had dared been insulted (or the fact that his dear ex-unit member had been even speaking of him)! 

    “I don’t need it, thank you,” Sophie pardoned herself and turned her head from the officer, waving her hand into the air dismissively. Her tone had been drenched with reproach, starkly different from the tenderness she once held. However, as she crossed her arms over her knees in wait, keeping her eyes on the flowers, she found that the rain hadn’t returned to hitting her. 

   One minute more, two minutes more…

     “Persistent, aren’t you?” Sophie sighed, hanging her head, unaware of the kettle calling the pot. The woman rubbed the end of her skirt between her right hand’s thumb and index finger, her thoughts fiddling on the next course of action. 

         Slowly, she rose back upon her boots and the hatless Hatter turned to the unlikely companionship she found in the rain alongside her. Against the martial blue of Rei’s uniform had been the neutral grays of Sophie’s ensemble, underneath the shielding back parasol in his grasp. 

      However, her head dipped at the moment as she found her hands brushing this her wet hair. With one step back, keeping within the shelter of the umbrella, the woman undid the ribbons of her hair, releasing the soaked locks. Her hands grabbed the length of hair and slowly twisted it, squeezing out all the rainwater she could from it. “Thank you–” How softly yet fast the comment went was beyond her as the demure turned back to him, placing away the pink ribbons into her pockets. 

     To be accompanied by a vampire in a summer shower, what a phrase Sophie Hatter never considered in her 22 years. Small talk blossomed between the two as, per her request (and to the limitations he had until his radio went off), the two kept within the bliss of the gardens of Serenia Park. 

      Something as silly as “So, the weather,” left the shorter’s lips, earning her a turn of the head from Rei, to which he prompted gestured with his umbrella. “What of it?” He only asked, leaving the woman to flush with embarrassment and quickly stick out her tongue. However, the serenity behind the pelting rain and the rows of flowers had drawn her to introspection for her eyes kept observing more of the flora than him. 

     “I can hold that for you, Mr Sakuma–” Sophie had offered, her left hand softly gripping the lower curve of the umbrella’s wooden hook. While Rei already held onto the upper part, she slowly tried lowering it and even taking it off of the elderly half’s responsibility. However, as she was quick in the move, the top of the umbrella thudded against the back of his head.

    “Oh dear, Rei–” Sophie immediately adjusted the umbrella back up and she raised her hand, quick to inspect his cranium. However, hesitance was apparent for he noted her approaching touch fast, and he offered simply, “ ‘Twas nothing.” However, he hadn’t shied from giving him more than a piece of his mind, even if he was meaning to be kinder this time of day. But, her hand withdrew and returned to holding onto the lower end up the umbrella, taking the compromise. 

     Alas, Sophie turned her head again and observed the flowers, tugging Rei’s sleeve with only the ends of her fingers to gather his attention – if he wasn’t already. “I’m quite surprised to see magic lilies being grown in the park this time around. They are summer flowers, but, they only can be so magical during the summer before withering away,” mused the Hatter as her eyes found the dangling lilies of pink with their centers sticking outwards in a neon yellow. 

     “Orange and yellow zinnias..? Oh, aren’t they such a nice pair too. There are even some lavender periwinkles that help the color layout transition better to the bluebells.” A feigning smile comes to the Hatter, overlooking the large borders of flowers as her pace was certainly slowing. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Rei’s gloved hand pointing towards a particular bundle, and he even added to the conversation,  “You mustn’t forget the hydrangeas under the tree, they’re needing all the shade they can.” 

     Curiosity struck the woman as she turned to look at him solely now, eyes wide and with a rare glimmer. “You’re into flowers?” The man raised a brow, providing clarity on her question, “I volunteer whenever I have the chance~ Gardening is nice.” The woman blinked, intrigue apparent. “You happen to be doing a wonderful job then.” 

     While their conversation soon became engrossed in flower language and what they’ve potted and even what flowers they preferred, the shorter and (slightly) younger Hatter didn’t know where to keep her eyes – on him or the flowers. If she gazed far too long at him, her words often drifted back to red carnations and roses, even cannas too! All the rambling, quick hand gestures and fixed smile only indicated she could go on and on–…However, as Rei pointed out, those flowers happened not to be in any of the nearby gardens. And, that was when Sophie clamped up, turning away with a shameful blush. 

     "Wait, wait–” Her embarrassed tone came, but, her eyes were gazing unto something on the one of the flower beds. Without much of a word, or his acknowledgment, Sophie crouched down and cupped her hand, into the flowerbed. Rei stared at the woman, thinking hard and long about whatever had happened to her today – stranger and stranger was this woman ever turning out to be the more he encountered her. 

    “Here we are~” Sophie returned back onto her feet, turning to Rei with a flattened out hand. Crawling down her scarred fingers had been a ladybug who had taken shelter underneath the leaves. She looked down, her head tilting with his childish wonderment over the beetle’s three black dots and red exterior. “I’m surprised I was able to spot him underneath all of that,” mused the brunette as she held up her hand for the male to better see.

    “Curiously, he reminds me of you.” Before a correction could come from Rei, or really Rei say anything, she elaborated. “Yes, I know you’re a bat not a beetle, but, you must admit how there are some similarities between your eye color and hair color to that of a ladybug. They might not have sharp fangs, or even detest the sun, but, they are quite as charming.” 

    Rambling off once more, smile present and her cheeks dusted with pink from simple chatter, she hadn’t realized what she just said…~

[madamhatter]

💀

WARM AND FUZZY MEME! SEND AN EMOTICON FOR MY MUSE’S REACTION… / acpt!

💀 YOUR MUSE COMFORTING MY MUSE DURING A SCARY MOVIE

My muse trying to comfort your muse (i misread the original prompt fskd)

    Courageous, pure-of-heart, loyal, serviceable, amiable, passionate – all the characteristics that were the making of any truly-white hero in an otherwise bleak and gray world. These were polarizing shades unfamiliar to the CEO who had worked with a forced hand or twisted wrist of bodies of varying grays. Nevertheless, there were those who had shone through the apathy of hope she had hammered to her ego – those who outright challenged the otherwise cruel world she had accepted. A fearless face amongst the crowd who raised themselves to the challenge to shift the unfair system and rebelled against all wrongdoings. Or, they just knew how to adjust themselves in the tightest spots and held themselves high towards the stars, seeking out the light

      Alas, there was a precedent to where someone she met wasn’t a practitioner of masquerading their true feelings, to where they even were blissfully ignorant over the inevitable plummet that was human indecency. Just how rare it was to find another like that was beyond Miss Hatter’s calculations. Even as she marveled at the figures she passed on the daily, making their acquaintance and noting their philosophy of mind and physiology of body language, there were some she greatly considered. 

     Flashing red across the blue skies of Akounri, the meteor-riding Sentai of passion was one she often pondered about. Truly, a charming face with a grin that could disarm and capture the spirits, Chiaki Morisawa had been the figure most would look up to as a role model. Standing above most with his height, yet careful with the distance as he adjusted outright for those in need, Sophie enlightened herself with the question of sincerity. A personality like his was only among the books she read as a child, the romantic hero who never winced at the burden of human life. Flawless frontward, yet, no human could’ve been like that on the inside. She knew better. 

    But, he had some outstanding traits like leadership, empathy, honesty, and fea—

    “AHAHAH–” The ungodly and nerve-wrecking laughter that shook the red ranger had only left the following on the older’s mental list: fearlessness scratched off. His glasses were only hanging by the small curve of his nose, his body rendered with a shake that only meant he’d either bolt or freeze on the spot. Flight or fight, two things Sophie Hatter would not have if he had been through his clumsy phase again. The furniture wasn’t needing the fright (nor was she), and, she rather not have the petrified remains of him in the middle of the living room.

     What surrounded the four walls of the room wasn’t ever so comforting when the horrors of the four-walls belonging to the T.V. screen was boiling all primitive instinct in the taller brunette. Without needing to turn her head, Sophie had her brows furrowing as the two were seated on the floor, a bucket of popcorn acting as their divider. The popcorn wasn’t even halfway done, unlike the movie, as Chiaki’s jaw clamped shut at the first blurred and quick spotting of the ghoul lurking after the main protagonist. Having been not much of an eater, Sophie considered just how much food they would’ve been wasting. 

    Calmly, the shorter rested her palm against the small of the other’s back, rubbing small circles in an attempt to soothe his otherwise shot nerves. Any effort to settle the man was coming after stiffly to her, she realized, as he attempted in shaking off the fear. His attempt shattered as he turned to her, forcing a smile that was already threatening to break at any rate the moment his attention returned to the T.V.

     “It’s nothing too fright–” Breath was immediately cut short the moment she began to open her mouth. Practically crushing her altogether had been the instinct of fear that Chiaki jumped on, securing the closest soul for comfort. Crushed to death by the ranger of red, Sophie had considered the irony – at least he’d be passionate in his fright and her eventually death-by-asphyxiation. Her hand shakily grabbed the bucket, securing it onto her side, before the man made another mess. 

    “Chiaki, CHIAKI!” Sophie waved her free hand around once more, gathering for the remote that rested on the top of the couch. She rapidly clicked the pause button, each second wasted as her rib cage threatening to collapse on itself from the sheer force of Chiaki Morisawa’s arms. She jolted up her leg, the flare of her long gray pajamas pants indicating the struggle of survival to how frantic she tried wiggling. 

    With one fistful tucked beside her, swimming in the bucket of popcorn, Sophie attempted once more in cooing Chiaki. “It’s okay, it’s okay, just PLEASE be careful with me, I have back problems.” The plead slipped as she held back any urge to wince or slap the man with any guilt over her own physical health problems. 

    Maroon met with copper as Chiaki finally withstood the moment to brace for the impact of the ghost crawling through the T.V. His brows knitted as his arms were finally unclenching around the almost-crushed waist of the eldest Hatter. “I’m sorry–” He once more began to muse himself in confidence, his voice shaking to regain his posture as the great hero who knew no fear. 

    “It’s okay– Just take this.” Sophie nodded her head and immediately, shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Food always helps.” Any of the buttery goodness had been deposited into his mouth, forcing the man to keep himself even more busy before he could shout again when he looked at the screen. Sophie wiped the residue of butter onto her pants, muttering in disgust over its overdone state, and returned to comfort the man. 

     “Nothing is going to get you, not even the ghost on the T.V., you know it’s just a movie.” Sophie began politely explaining, patting the top of his head as any older sibling would’ve in the face of her frightened younger sisters rushing to her room in fear of whatever lived under her bed. It hadn’t been the same when handling Martha and Lettie, who didn’t harbor the potential of crushing her with only two arms. But, it was something that made her eyes softened drastically as she taken guardianship over the matter. 

     “Besides, we don’t even fit into the rules that the movie has, we’re fine!” She offered the alternative to the view, as it seemed that being reminded that ghosts didn’t exist wasn’t pushing Chiaki in the right direction. She nodded her head over her own advice. “Ahh, you’re right! Nothing can get us!” Chiaki had hummed back with his confidence regained. But, his mouth was still completely stuffed.

    “I mean, what were the rules? Stay up past midnight, be unsuspecting–” Sophie had begun listing the rules, which only drew Chiaki’s attention as the smile quickly reversed to an increasing state of horror. Meanwhile, with each finger she drew out for each rule, Sophie slowed herself in all the information she presented.

 “If it was here, it would’ve come out by now!” Chiaki countered the moment Sophie grew quiet and she even sunk a bit back in her spot. He nudged the woman, who was already withdrawing herself from reality and found that maybe, it was better to be crushed by him at this point. 

     Errr— 

   All the hairs loose on the brown-and-silver-haired woman began rising the moment the door creaked aside them. Her arms were shaking, his arms were already returning back around her. Both of them had come to face with the horrible reality– With one leg kick in the air, madness had returned! 

     A painful duet of yelling clashed and overpowered the voice coming from the doorway. Almost leaping on the spot, Sophie’s arms linked around Chiaki’s neck as Chiaki’s arms returned to holding onto the smaller, both unable to hold back the sheer terror of the approaching and cursed ghost from the movie, seeking revenge on all those who dare saw her tape..! 

     Unfortunately, the two screaming brunettes had become the painful, painful subject of the young figure standing before them, with a bag of small sugary delights in his hand. Judgment was riddling his expression as the man of blue eyes and blue hair sighed deeply.

   Hokuto seemed to have a lot on his plate tonight. 

[madamhatter]

🎸 ♫

WARM AND FUZZY MEME! SEND AN EMOTICON FOR MY MUSE’S REACTION… / acpt

🎸 YOUR MUSE PLAYING MUSIC/SINGING FOR MY MUSE

 Fined laced between the fingertips of the silver-electric guitarist, Koga plucked the chords of his cherished electric guitar. Resonating through the empty performance house, asides from the straying staff who conversed with themselves behind the drinks bar or were fumbling off on their phones, was a familiar melody kept his fingers moving in tandem to his foot stomping. However, with each melody that abruptly ended, the man gritted his teeth and stomped his foot even harder, proclaiming something that equated to a metal bat smashing against a T.V.: quite loud. 

   Not too far along from the practicing musician had been the practicing seamstress, head bowed and her crisscrossed legs occupied by an open and large sketchbook. Her eyes flickered between the golden-eyed rebel and the electric guitar in his clutch. Easily legible had been the withdrawal of satisfaction and the kick of impulse readying to burst at any moment. As she simply waved around her pencil, pretending to chant an ancient curse his way (as if he could even hear it), she bobbed her head to the silence. 

    “What the hell are you even listening to?!” A dreaded yell was received as she was taken notice of by Koga, who could’ve snapped at a whim at a moment’s notice. The seated woman, who wasn’t all too far from where he stood, shrugged at his question, unsure if it was rhetorical. “Sorry–” However, a flared breath of heat escaped him as his brows furrowed and he continued, plucking at the chords, looking downwards.

    However, Sophie trained her eyes at his shoes and the plugged amplifier not too far from where he stood. Among the body sketches, hat sketches, and small cursive writing for notes, she had kept a tally to the bottom of her page. Eleven strokes were taken and she drummed her pencil sketchbook, raising one brow in the wait. 

     She raised her pencil once more, as she glanced at her phone screen that already indicated a minute had passed. However, the gruff “AHAH” drew her chin up as she found the male gathering the chords from around his feet. “Well, he didn’t break his record,” Sophie murmured under her breath, resting her pencil on the page as she amused herself with the sight of Koga scrambling to undo his folly of overconfidence. 

     “PAY ATTENTION–” One order out and the woman waved her hand in the air, affirming to the wolf of Ouvara had it was received. Once more, he cleared his throat and hoisted the guitar against himself, fingers fiddling once more – TO THEN SHRED METAL.

    “OH S-” Piercing through the barriers of her placidity, Sophie jumped from her seated spot and fell back. “Ow–” She gritted her teeth as the back of her head greeted the wooden floor with a quick thud. Her loose peppering locks hadn’t protected her from the recoil that she took from her sudden drop. 

    Almost on cue, Koga unleashed snorts that were like firecrackers, fast and obnoxiously loud. She waved out her hand, “Just go on!” The woman pushed herself upwards once more by her elbows, rubbing the back of his head. She glanced down at her sketchbook and wrinkled her nose. 

     ‘Oh, that’s familiar!’ Her head perked up as she focused once more on the guitarist, clearing his throat and playing all four parts to the song without breaking a sweat. He called out each syllable and looked over towards the empty seating area. Irritation but nostalgia came to life in his eyes, she could tell, as he continued on the “countdown” until the grand reveal. Had Koga opened up his ears more, he would’ve heard the softest callback, serving to be his pathetic backup from “U” to the second “D.” 

      She flipped through the pages of her sketchbook by several dozen pages, sketches of models, clothing, and familiar faces were there. However, she rested her thumb on one, which was rather smudged from charcoal and lead. She glanced at the impromptu sign she had sketched after some wistful observations of “concert culture.” Besides the silhouette of the bat from his previous affiliation, some creative liberties were taken in spelling out his complete name. Signs were popular like this at concerts, right? Maybe she could wave this one if she ever did manage to catch a performance– 

       Maybe it wasn’t best to do it now.

“CALLING NAME, UNDEAD,” Koga shouted to the top of his lungs. Following awkwardly in the vocals of Koga, the antithesis of unbridled passion echoed back. “..Undead!” Sophie’s brows knitted awkwardly and in admitted shame as the golden eyes returned to her once more, almost pitting the lack of spirit she had. Well, it had been a week since any proper sleep was gained. Not that it mattered or anyone needed to know just how ungodly unhealthy her life went. 

    Once more, he took a deep breath and — 

     “Oh, wait, Koga! I have a question!” Before the male knew it, the woman quickly got onto her feet, palms pushing her back up. She had taken no consideration of personal space and the ring of performance he needed to find his inner beast. 

    Sophie flipped over her sketchbook, revealing an older page, where tiny etched kanji and English were aligned next to each other. Different parts of the lines were highlighted with orange, purple, or green highlighters. Some of them were underlined with a red pen, some with a “ :( “ beside it. 

    The biggest underlined portion happened to be the one that came to question from Miss Hatter. 

     “So, why do you call the listener a lost kitten? It’s so strange–” 

  Oh, Sophie, prepare for the bite back. 

[madamhatter]

Sophie, Examine Aigis

Send “Examine!” and an item or person and I’ll write an RPG description of it/them. // not acpt.

@kimixnoxkioku

*You wonder how you’ve gotten this far into the conference since your eyes are getting heavier with each word being exchanged by greedy mouths of businessmen and woman akin. At the near center of the squared table, you have as much visual on everyone as they do on you – all older professionals and greed-devoured souls that she had known since she was thirteen. 

*Would this mean your 10-year-anniversary in being the business would be coming soon? No, it’s been a bit more than a decade since you were named heiress and pushed to work under your stepmother – actually, you’ve been doing all that work she was meant to do. -10 MOOD 

*Your hands are colder now, sweat building up at the base of your palms. Try wiping them down on your slacks while no one is looking. They weren’t looking, to begin with, and, you hope they weren’t. If they were looking at you, that’ll mean you would have to speak up and you can already tell that when you stand their eyes were everywhere but on your face. Those reasons you know to be.

*Your stomach knots. -10 MOOD

*Instead, you know it’s better to keep yourself distracted. So, why not reach out for your agenda? That’s something you can do for the fifth time this week – check and assess your schedule. It’s the only thing you know will keep your distracted.

*…Eh? There’s something flimsy yet delicate sticking from one of the pages as you slowly flip through the pages of the planner. It was located within the early section of June. This was for your photo album, no doubt. Martha and Lettie sort of ingrained that horrible habit to take as many photos as you can. But, it doesn’t bother you if you were taking photos of your family, it just mattered when you were the ugly little gray spot in view.

ITEM OBTAINED: A GENTLE PHOTO.

Female. 20. Blonde, blue eyes. She stood at my height, slimmer and fitter. A fairly young girl placed in a situation where I acted on impulse without considering what she wanted. It was that strange condiiton that led me to taking her on a “date”..and this photo.

Her name is Aigis and I was “Miss Hatter” that night, we went around the Pride event while I was suppose to be handling the faces of big businesses. Only the prismatic illumination from the hanging lanterns and fairy lights tied around booths were lighting them down that stroll. But, I swear there was pink radiating around her and the lights really complimented how really teal her eyes were.. She was pretty.

And her evening was wasted by someone like me.

We spoke for some time, learning bits of what we consider was appropriate. She’s a librarian and I’m a CEO. Sort of rare for someone to learn about about that side of me before they know me as the simple seamstress. Anytime I spoke, she was really attentive and couldn’t keep her eyes off of me - it was really strange. I mean, no, no, she isn’t strange – I’m strange, she was just being polite and listened to my ramblings. God, I’m an idiot. 

But, her? She really know what she had on her mind, she seemed so content on conversing and giving questions, even joining me in some booths. Though, I’m not oblivious; blame my own observations but it was clear that she didn’t know certain things socially. I only wonder what it means.. She has the utmost education if she was this far into school and had a knack of logic puzzles – she kept on looking at a rubix cube on a stand. 

Maybe that’s something I could get for her? Just as a small token of appreciation and a “sorry that you had to put up with this demure thing you call Sophie, here’s something to make up for it.” 

Though…It was nice spending the evening. Weirdly, we managed to get a photo and I wasn’t sure how I agreed to it, I usually would hide or kindly reject. But, here’s the proof, one smart woman with a lot in her future, and me, the plain one poking her head out who has nothing but disappointment and worthlessness. What else should I have expected?

…It was a nice night, though.

I wonder if I’ll see her again. 

+30 MOOD / 10 ????

[madamhatter]

♬ (w. grandmaster-soundstress)

send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse — // accepting.

Jirou singing to Sophie. 

       Rendering the beauty of sound for one who shudders at the shuddering chills of the silence, a stranger’s humming distracts from the dissonance of a wandering traveler’s thoughts. Her eyes, though daggering at the slip of paper of a familiar villain’s penmanship, softened upon the melodic tones hitting her ears. She turns her head momentarily, finding herself aside a store that looked worn out but ad instruments decorating the front of the storefront. The door had been slightly creaked opened, the radio had been strangely shut off in exchange of a stranger’s voice. 

     Disregarding the pools of people passing to and fro from her, the woman pauses and remains gazing at the window panes of the store. For all little she could recover and discover of the voice, all that could be appreciated from her were the shortened chopped locks of black. Mostly, from what she could detect, the stranger had been on octave lower but fairly feminine. She presses the note to her chest and shuffles to the side, keeping close to the storefront but, she had turned her face away, not wanting to distinguish her interest. 

   After a fleeting moment or two, her back is turned towards the window front and kept at bay from the lulls that soon faded by the frequent buzzing of her phone. The woman tilts her head, sighing, realizing that the underground was needing their affiliate again. To the one who had distracted her, dipped her ears with sweetened notes, she could only depart with a small grace of gratitude. From her lips, she mutters “How nice,” but continues the straining path without the temptation of turning back. 

[madamhatter]

“What are these footprints? They don’t look human-like.”

PANIC! AT THE DISCO “DEATH OF A BACHELOR” STARTERS / / acp.

   “I told you for the LAST time, stop saying that!” Turning towards the scientist, foot stomping, her flaring red face indicates that the boundaries of calmness have obliviated. Patting her chest, her unrestful gaze could only tempt in burning contempt towards the taller Chinese male as his musings of the unknown and mystics rattled her old bones. Of course, Komui would never mean to harm her and only inferred to statements without any sense of irritating her. 

   “Komui, I just don’t like that idea, even if monsters and all can’t exist!” Grumpily, a scold falls on her face as the redness ceases. However, as ‘punishment,’ she asserts herself by his side, “Look what you made me do.” Her right arm instantaneously hooks around his arm and her left-hand grips onto the length of his lab coat.  “I’m not leading anymore,” she declares as she remains looking forward, ignoring any apologies that may be brought up. Unfortunately, much of Sophie’s lack of awareness, someone may easily feel the slight jitter in her left hand as they continued their walk down the hallway. 

    Muddied footsteps ahead, concluded as “not human-like” by the professor, turned towards an unlit section of the hallway. Immediately, the woman grows stagnant as the professor inches only closer. At this point, curiosity on her end only boiled down to running away after the constant nagging of the supernatural from one who labels himself a man of science. “Please, let’s not,” Sophie mutter under her breath as her feet were Komui’s anchor, preventing any further movement forward. 

[madamhatter]

missing.

  Pure concentration saturates in the glints of her copper eyes, the phantom away from the crowd remains with her head slightly lowers. For the dissonance around her, from the honking of screeching horns in midday traffic to the chatters off of cell phones and small talk amongst strangers, white noise remains weighing in her thoughts. Lately, between the flashes of managing a store, handling the yell-stricken calls of her impromptu substitute, and threatening oil stains, any moment of placidness came more of a stilling shock that overwhelmed her. Seated away from the large crowds, keeping her “people watching” at a safe distance, it seems that no new hobbies or ventures were appearing this afternoon. 

   “Hm?” Within the corners of her eyesight, on the pavement, a helpless article or accessory limply rests on it. Cocking a brow of silver, the woman tilts her head and glances to and fro, seeking the upcoming owner’s presence and potentially the franticness. Yet, from her location, the lost item cries in silence from the lack of attention their owner given them. Miss Hatter folds her arms down onto the top of the cool table and shakes her head. How can someone just let that happen?    However, the woman collects herself and flattens the creases of her dress skirt as she rises. Truthfully, as mundane as she dressed, the less attention would’ve been garnered if someone hadn’t given her a hard-earned stare and intimate gaze. With a gentle jog over towards the item, the woman squats downward and plucks it, examining the intricates of its creation. As she returns back onto her feet, her head lifts for a moment, tempted to return into observing the item. It was not of her own creations, or of rivals, or of underlings. Alas, such items of craftsmanship should be respected.     “Excuse me, did you lose something?” Sophie’s voice raises a bit as she remains on the outskirts of the large crowds walking back and forth, as she dared not enter the world of city transients. She’d rather not be trampled. Yet, she remains adamantly and carefully holding the item while trying to find its owner. 

[madamhatter]

‘ i can’t believe you actually gave him your number. ’

(  *  &.  –  THE KISSING BOOTH SENTENCE STARTERS. // not acpt. 

   “What do you take me for–?” A shot through the dark came as Sophie furrowed her brows at the astute observation from Koga. As she squinted at the male, she waved off the inquiry. Whatever came out of Koga’s mouth was usually either ending with him punching someone or him getting punched. “Nevermind,” she cleared her throat and shook her head. Dismissing the man’s judgment at the moment, she crossed her arms.

     “I’ll have you in on a little secret,” she began instructing the silver-haired as she drew out her phone from her pocket. The very same phone that she apparently gave her information out from. She rolled her eyes at the commentary Koga had given before. He really knew how to run his mouth, huh? Though, the woman tapped her screen..several times. “Sorry, I’m still getting used to it,” she couldn’t look Koga in the eyes, but, she persisted.

     “But, here..” Sophie quickly brought forth the “call” prompt and tapped each number with one finger, keeping the screen visible for her friend. However, she mouthed each number out loud, for his benefit. “4, 4, 2, 0, 3, 0, 9, 5, 4, 1, 9, 3..” She nods her head. “That’s probably the number you heard me bring up, right?” She tilts her head as her phone immediately began dialing up the number. 

   “Koga, you do realize this number is different from mine?” Her brows lowered in a scold as the line was finally picked up, and, she placed it on speaker. A woman’s voice came on, not even greeting either of them. But, the woman went off speaking, “Whatever you choose, however many roads you travel, I hope that you choose not to be a lady. I hope you will…” Sophie’s thumb quickly taps on the red button towards the bottom of the U.I.

     “See? It was a number, but, not my number.” Confidence had restored once more in the woman as she wagged her phone at Koga. She had the upper hand over it–! And, that was until her phone went off. 

    “Hm?” Miss Hatter looked at her screen once more, finding a text notification ready for her, along with the photo identification of who it was. The woman forced a gulp, noticing the pocketed silence from Koga. 

    “Seriously!? That’s who you were referring to?”