#* 𝑉͟. 》 —⠀arc three ‚

[kutana]

@cagcd: i wanted to be me without the context.

she weighs his words as carefully as she can, brows crinkle ever so slightly as she teeters on the line of courteous words and eager chumminess.   banquets are held customarily, a decent show of hospitality that warrants the absence of conversation through the indulgence of food but...   here, it always seems to be where she finally feels the pulse of the bodies around her.   their presence is no longer quiet and still in the name of duty, of keeping up appearances.   gaze falls downward in thought, only to witness the awkward display of his dealings with the dull-colored citrus he’s yet to eat.   she grabs the same from the bowl between them.   “ you’re without context here, are you not? ” and for emphasis, “ earthrealmer... ”

she’s polite in her demonstration, peels the thick petals away from a dark core that’s left alone.   the skin, as she shows with a bite, is what's important.   despite its lackluster appearance it's tart, not that he would have known; the fruit as foreign to him as he is to it.   all of it, actually, fruit besides.   edenia as a whole.   its trees, its customs and its people.   it’s hard to think of someone experiencing edenia for the first time without also seeking the warmth of a recently left womb in the process.   “ lord liu kang had said you were an eccentric bunch, in his own way.   i can’t help but to be curious about what you left behind, but there's no need to indulge me. ”

[kutana]

do they resemble fan movements...? don't lie. tag dump.

[kutana]

@scorpiun: people know of you, but do they know you?

❝ and if they did? ❞ she responds in question,  yet within it is the answer he seeks.   she struggles to find the meaning in this conversation when nothing will be brought to true fruition but she humors him all the same.  she will remain at a distance to those she oversees,   that is a fact not worth changing lest the basis of outworlds foundation sway.  defensively,  kitana wants to inquire of him the same,  of his students,  yet it’s a twinge of doubt that he may just prove her wrong that keeps her quiet,  pursing lips beneath the mask.  not too far is someone digging their thumb into a fruit's surface to break it,  that act alone is an invitation she cannot afford to make.

she's reminded of the resentment she had as a child when her father would break a fruit in quarters to share amongst her family,  despite the fact it was kitana who had plucked it from its branch.  the fairness was unfair to her.  is everything so united that she can conjure comparisons from her childhood to the present?  the princess isn’t so naive to think it’s entirely the same,  but it’s not so different.  if kitana had the power fruit seems to have: to separate and break itself to pursue union,  she’d do it.  she likes to think she’d do it without hesitation,  her palm outward and red with equal parts her attention and care. with rumors infesting even the palace halls, she thinks people already see her as such, although that's far from the truth of it. ❝ i doubt they’d answer the same as i,  even now... ❞ at the end of the day that fantasy is as unattainable as her father now.   ❝ we simply don’t have that reach. ❞