#NINA ;; ii. [ pray you get comfy in your disguise. ]

[dernarrleid]

❝ my way is the only way and you know it.❞ ( yet again i apologise in advance to nina )

you (season 4) starters | always accepting!

In what ways can the mind reject one’s soul? Especially when the soul completely overrides the neutral functions of the mind and body, rendering it to a shell full of cracks and holes that may never be filled. When the soul doesn’t understand this supposed kindness and love, seeing the mangled exterior as an opportunity for mending in its own image. Can one truly reject this force of an emotion? Often times Nina tries in vain, merely enabling issues like swimming in the middle of a whirlpool without proper motor skills, flailing helpless until she surfaces violently. Her heart encapsulates itself in a box of fire, lungs filling to the brim, muscles clenching all with the fear of another's existence in that swirling water. She waits patiently through the aches since lack of resistance makes it easier for the cause of such phenomena to pluck her from misery. Only to fall right back into a much deeper current.

She runs her nails over the metal in her purse. The blade of her newly delivered self defense strategy warmed by it's encloser. Her other hand grips the handles of her bag, standing in wait. Nina doesn't dare trust the empty space between them or behind, training her focus to pinpoint directedly in front where the monster lie in wait. There wasn't much else she could do when regarding her brother's penchant for readily available aid in his attempts to reunited them. It had gone stale eventually, dubbing the letters and subtle nods in broad daylight his knew approach to forming a relationship she doesn't wholly consent to. On some level there was understanding, possibly longing for the two to come to an agreement on safe boundaries that involved their love and well being for each other, allowing them both to blossom in their own right. Recently, Nina began to dread her formative years.

We were kids then, unfortunately. It was way too late.

"Do you know what I felt the day my final parents were murdered?" Nina spits in a low voice. She didn't want the commotion to extend further out into the neighbor knowing very well how he may react to an audience. Or rather, how lacking they would be in the coming days after. There's no telling he may be able to conceptualize grief and the loss of loved ones, yet she grew tired of discerning whether his knowledge of empathy came from his cognition or hers. Stolen. "I can't trust you enough to tell... I don't want you taking them from me this time." She takes a step back, pressing her lips in a thin line. She grips the handle of the knife momentarily, but lets go upon summoning the strength to walk forward.

Footfalls are accompanied by an echo rather loudly in the night. The face she'd seen only in mirrors and recently a photograph she keeps close shown under the streetlights on the pavement of her emptied home. Not that he would have to know about the picture, assuming he didn't already. She wonders what kind of expression he sees that makes him smile so much. Strange how inconceivable his ideas for the world are, shrouded in sordid nihilism while hers mirrored the opposite. The only explanation to why she sees him and doesn't have the urge to end his life, thus both of their suffering. This can't be a hopeful occasion if she feels a wetness on her cheeks pooling just below her chin.

"I know whatever you want is bound to happen in some form or another. You're really touched by some devil, but I'm not going to let your poison spread to those undeserving." Nina says sharply. "And if your way is spreading your lackies through Germany on sprees, you may have succeeded but I will not participate."