#don't belong to no city‚ don't belong to no man ( c. esmé cheney )

[theladymuses]

❝ Then, I'm sure I'll never hear of it again. ❞ Esmé muses with a lopsided grin, glancing at the Harbinger from the corner of her eye. She isn't embarrassed, if her playful expression is anything to go by; she only doubts that someone like him would ever need to use such underhanded tactics in battle. She's a spy. He's a Harbinger. They are hardly the same.

Though Esmé allows herself to speak freely with him, her tongue is kept on a tight leash so as to not reveal anything irrelevant about herself. Her background wasn't well-know even amongst the Harbingers, and she preffered it that way if only to keep her household life away from anyone and everyone. It kept the children safe; her eldest son doing business in Liyue Harbour, her daughter studying at the Sumeru Akademiya, and her youngest son safely tucked away in the confines of her house. Of course, she'd never make the mistake of using that address. There were others for her to use whenever the need arose.

In spite of her secrecy, the woman's curiosity remained unshackled. So, it was almost natural for her to wonder just how Tartaglia was so carefree about the existence of his own family, something that wasn't exactly a secret. He'd occassionally bring it up in casual conversation when buying presents for a younger brother, the very one that elected to visit the Northland Bank in Liyue some time prior. Did his name hold enough fear for no one to ever dare target his relations? Perhaps it was a matter worth wrapping her head around, but she wasn't sure she was willing to pay the price for it.

It's a fleeting query that dissolves as quick as it had materialized in her mind, thoughts quickly taken over by his movement. Her gaze follows Tartaglia until all she can see is a few strands of ginger hair, body relaxed even when he takes a hold of her. Esmé chuckles.

❝ I know that one. Though, I'd rather not get in trouble with Her Majesty for tossing her youngest Harbinger off the edge of a cliff for practice, ❞ She muses, reciprocating his flirting with the subtler gesture of tilting her head back just enough that it brushes his shoulder, ❝ I think banging my head back into the enemy's would also be effective, no? Depending on how fast their reflexes are... ❞

Tartaglia chuckled at her reply. “Then I suppose I learned not to let a kiss fool me in combat. I’ll be sure to let you know if that is ever relevant again,” he remarked with a smirk. When was the last time he could talk so openly with someone? His subordinates were always that: subordinate. They would never speak freely with him. And Tartaglia disliked the company of his fellow Harbingers way too much to enjoy spending time with them.

As for his own family... He couldn't actually be himself around them anymore, even though he loved them with every fiber of his being. So it was nice to spend time with someone who spoke freely with him, even though he drastically outranked her both in the Fatui and even just the hierarchy of Snezhnaya. He liked their conversations. He liked her. Just...not enough to let himself get attached, of course.

"I've got plenty," the redhead replied before taking a few steps closer to her until he was right behind her, perhaps a bit closer than what was necessary. But what was the harm in a bit of flirting? "For example... You're going to face enemies who are much bigger and much stronger than you, and you can't always dodge them." He wrapped his arms securely around her waist from behind. "And kissing won't work. If an enemy is holding you like this, bend yourself forward sharply and use the momentum to knock them forward and propel them off of you." Tricks he learned back when he was smaller/

[theladymuses]

a family-themed headcanon ( for esmé ; @jaksrpbox )

Family, to Esmé, is her sole reason to bother with survival. Family, to Esmé, means her adoptive children and no one else. She has no blood relations left, save for her biological mother, as far as she knows and she doesn't consider blood relations as family anymore though they do have quite a bit of influence on her. Not that she'd ever admit that.

When she was younger, Es did care for her parents. Her father's memory has faded from her mind over time since he died from illness when she was very young. Though she never speaks of it, it influenced her to seek the medical knowledge she has today.

Her mother, on the other hand, Es despises most. Her mother sold her off (under different pre-texts depending on the verse) and proceeded to vanish. This gave rise to her biggest fear and ambition simultaneously; Es fears turning into her own mother and subsequently refuses to abandon her own adoptive children under any circumstances. It isn't entirely intentional, becoming what she felt she should have had, though Es does realize her own anxieties and fears borne of her mother's actions.

As for those she does consider family, her children, she seeks to protect. They take priority over everything, including herself. She knows that she can't keep her profession a secret from them for their entire lives, but she's alright with being the villain and letting them make their own decision based on how they perceive it. Her moral compass revolves entirely around the three, too, because she will do whatever it takes for them even if it's a cost to herself or anyone else she might come to care about. When the situation comes to that, Esmé is as unfeeling and ruthless as they come.

[theladymuses]

ᴏɴ ᴇsᴍᴇ́'s ᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ: ᴀ ᴛʜᴏᴜꜱᴀɴᴅ & ᴏɴᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ

While fixing up Es's doc, I realized I didn't really explain her ability so here we go!!! This will be linked on her page for future reference.

A Thousand & One Shadows, as the name might suggest, allows Es to manipulate shadows regardless of whether it belongs to hers, another person or an object. So long as a shadow is within her range, she can control it. The number of shadows she can manipulate at a time is (predictably...) 1,001.

The ability is quite versatile; she can use shadow as an extension of her body, storage, transport and even as a defensive medium.

In the past, Esmé has used this ability to hold weaponry, documents and even people. When using her own shadow, the only limitation on storage is the weight she can carry which is why she avoids using her own shadow to store heavy items for that would slow her down. However, this limit doesn't hold if the shadows aren't her own.

To use shadow as a medium of transport, multiple must overlap to form a path for her to move along. It is possible to shine a light to disrupt her movement because she won't be able to go where a shadow can't connect.

Similarly, Esmé can use a shadow for defence. It can absorb the impact of a blow, swallow a bullet or other weaponry and project them elsewhere (this is visually kind of like Nikolai's ability if that's easier to picture!).

The ability compliments her professionally, enabling her to listen in on conversations without needing to be there, transport both people and objects using shadow as an intermediary, and even hide when need be.

The ability cannot be deactivated without making physical contact with her.

[theladymuses]

Ah, and they'd made such an effort for that one, too... The thought comes and goes, as inconsequential as the breeze blowing through her mussed hair. Truly, the artifact is of little consequence to her superior, she knows, lest it present him with a challenge. The poor thing can barely stop itself tumbling down the uneven terrain.

❝ That depends. ❞ If it were the usual trail of breadcrumbs she follows in her investigations, then perhaps it would be worth something. ❝ If it was a clue, I might've thrown a tantrum. But because it is not, you've been spared the trouble, lord harbinger. ❞ She shrugs, reaching behind her to let her braid fall free from its bun. Her scalp cools, the wind pleasant against damp locks. ❝ And, if I were poor, I might've thought it worth good Mora. So. It depends. ❞

She won't ask his opinion of the artifact's worth; his treatment of it has made it sufficiently clear, though she figures the treaure hoarders in the pile behind them might have much different an opion. There is another matter that may be worth satisfying her curiosity...

❝ Why'd you ask for me? Treasure hoarders are easy prey for you, and I don't see any toy stores in the vicinity at which you might need a second opinion. ❞ She'd rather be indoors where it's cooler... unless this has to do with that ghost-pale woman he hadn't explain his relation to. How she had known of her, Esmé could only guess.

@theladymuses ( Esmé ) ♡’d this for a starter.

Though his hand's gone empty upon releasing what weighed in his grip, it's not the artifact clinking and shattering down the slope that has his full attention — objects have little value against what people can provide, their knowledge and abilities are far more precious than any relic. In his trade, disposing of it and whose story it tells is inconsequential, then.

His smile turns small, of someone who challenges, and his gaze is sharp on his company when it's time to move. Hopefully, Esmé is someone who can agree with his previous assessment. ❛ How much do you think that was worth? ❜

[theladymuses]

@longerhuman​​ sent...

❝  hey  there ,  stranger !  would  you  hold  my  coat  to  keep  it  dry  before  i  jump  in  this  river ? ❞

// for esme ! he recognizes her obviously , he’s just pretending < 3

     Never had she “gotten along” with Dazai when he was her indirect superior, when he still held his now-vacant position as an executive in the Port Mafia. So, no, Esmé hasn’t the slightest clue as to why she feels an odd relief seeing him now, holding out his coat as if he truly expects her to hold onto the beige fabric while he undoubtedly attempts to drown himself in the river for the umpteenth time.

     She considers playing along as she approaches him; it’s not as if she’d get in trouble when she knows Mori holds Dazai’s former position vacant on purpose. Akutagawa could have filled it ages ago if that wasn’t the case. 

     She takes the coat off his hands, draping it over her arm before she raises her head. She thinks black suited him better.

     ❝ Aren’t you going to ask me to join you? No double suicide plans tonight? ❞

[theladymuses]

SONGS  TO  WRITE  MY  MUSE !!

Esmé Edition.

whether it be melodies that give you inspiration for your muse or songs that get you into the writing mood — pick 10 songs you find that give you the urge, the drive, or the creativity to write your muse!!

tw: manipulation

001.   TO BE HUMAN - MARINA // 

I like to think about how we all look from afar // People driving fancy cars look like beetles to the stars // The missiles and the bombs sound like symphonies gone wrong // And if there is a God, they'll know why it's so hard // To be human  (Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh) // To be human

Still, I don't know, don't know what it means // To be human, a real human being // To be human, I want direction // I wanna feel human again // To be human, lost my direction // I wanna feel human again // To be human, to be human // To be human, to be human

002.   THE DEVIL WITHIN - Digital Daggers // 

I'll keep quiet // You won't even know I'm here // You won't suspect a thing // You won't see me in the mirror // But I crept into your heart // You can't make me disappear // 'Til I make you

I made myself at home // In the cobwebs and the lies // I'm learning all your tricks // I can hurt you from inside // I made myself a promise // You would never see me cry // 'Til I make you // You'll never know what hit you // Won't see me closing in // I’m gonna make you suffer // This hell you put me in // I’m underneath your skin // The devil within

003.   IN MY ARMS - Plumb // 

Story books full of fairy tales // Kings and queens and the bluest skies // My heart is torn just in knowing // You'll someday see the truth from lies // Knowing clouds will raise up // Storms will race in // But you will be safe in my arms // Rains will pour down // Waves will crash all around // But you will be safe in my arms

Castles they might crumble // Dreams may not come true // But you are never all alone // Because I will always, always love you

004.   JUDGEMENT DAY - Stealth // 

Of all the love I have taken, all the hearts I've turned to hate // Hearts are easily broken when you've been made in the shade I've crossed every line, broken every boundary // Now it's retribution time, 'cause the church that I went to // It ain't that holy Strike me down, take me away // Debts are due, it's time to pay // Face what I deserve // Here comes judgment day // I won't run, the guilt is mine // Too long denying all my crimes // Face what I deserve // Here comes judgment day

005.   A GRAVE MISTAKE - Ice Nine Kills // 

But I heard that you reap what you sow // So around and around we go // And when you see my face you'll know // You can't save yourself or save your soul // When you meet the man whose life you stole // With withered wings and broken bones // A flight for the fallen, flies the crow // Can't save yourself

These vengeful thoughts trapped underneath // Rage, scorn, misery // Payback for what you took from me // Hope, love, sanity

No forgiveness, just farewell

006.   MY NAME (WEARING ME OUT) - Shinedown // 

My name is worthless like you told me I once was // My name is empty 'cause you drained away the love // My name is searching since you stole my only soul // My name is hatred and the reasons we both know // Worthless, empty, searching, hatred // Well, who am I right now?

You're fucking wearing me out // You're always dragging me down // You're the fake, fallen force of nature's sick mind // I don't need a gun to take back what's mine // It's over, it's over now // You're done wearing me out

007.    DARKSIDE - Oshins, Hael // 

Who can you trust? // Tell me who can you trust? // Choking on the fear

Do what it takes // You must do what it takes // The devil is not polite // One little lie // Or ten little lies // Won't keep you up at night // Will you cross over? // Will you cross over? // Will you cross over to the dark side?

If they call you // Backstabber // Betrayer // Black magic // That traitor // Backstabber // Betrayer // Black magic // That traitor // You made it to the dark side now

008.    MANNEQUIN - Yuna // 

Are you here to waste time with me? // Cause time is all I have

I don't know what it means to feel whole // You're next to me, but I feel so cold with you // I will be your mannequin, love // Moving my lips the way that you want // Remain the same whenever you walk away

I am the deepest shade of jaded // Drowning from the past, love // Can you breathe, breathe love into me? // So I'll know what it's like

009.    NOTHING ELSE MATTERS - Apocalyptica // 

[ I N S T R U M E N T A L ]

010.    NUMB - Linkin Park // 

Every step that I take is another mistake to you (Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow) // And every second I waste is more than I can take 

I've become so numb // I can't feel you there // Become so tired // So much more aware // I'm becoming this // All I want to do // Is be more like me // And be less like you

And I know // I may end up failing too // But I know // You were just like me with someone disappointed in you

tagged by: astra-stellaris! (i’m not re-tagging cause i did in the other version)

tagging: // did in my other post hehe :) Feel free to do it!!!

[theladymuses]

What ghost haunts you?

the ghost of your bloodline

you were doomed from the start, weren’t you? born to bend yourself to the will of a bloodline that sneers at every effort you take towards betterment. you are stained by the hand of your father, your mother, perhaps a family member that looms over your weary shoulders. the first grave is the childhood home, after all. you can escape all you wish. your body can leave the home, the state, the country, but you will always be haunted by what raised you. when chelsea dingman wrote, “i have been trying to go home my entire life.” when graham greene wrote, “from childhood i had never believed in permanence, and yet i had longed for it.” when oscar wilde wrote, “a burnt child loves the fire.”

tagged by: @luckquartzed

[theladymuses]

❝ I'd be happy to take you to him, yes. ❞ Says Esmé, allowing her voice to reflect the fall in her expression for a bit. Part of it is genuine; she can't imagine why a human child would be looking for Vanitas.

Perhaps one of his associates is infected? Another malnomen, as Vanitas calls them? Though where a child learned of the Book is beyond her, she isn't entirely taken aback. Had she been Misha's age, that knowledge would have found her regardless. However, she doubts that possibility, for no word of a new vampire attack has reached her from Count Orlock.

Stowing the shred of misplaced sympathy away—she doesn't even know for sure what the circumstances surrounding Misha's search are—she rises to her full height, restoring the calm warmth to her features, ❝ It's nothing! Just... that fellow is rather eccentric, so I can't imagine why someone so young would be looking for him. Though, that is rather rude of me. Apologies! ❞

❝ Should we get going, then? ❞

╰ ☾ ☆ * : ･ ⁞ — ˗ˏˋㅤㅤ' 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ' ... another trait that the child was MORE than familiar with. Oh, he knew that hourglass ' earring ' well. The very same ' earring ' that dearest FATHER wore as a bracelet. The more he dwelled upon the idea that his brother was still wearing that earring whilst ' treating ' those who tormented his Father made him ILL. But he didn't show those feelings. No, he only smiled BRIGHTER upon the woman's words.

╰ ₊° ☆ . ⊹ ˗ˏˋㅤㅤㅤOh, how truly UNAWARE he was of the information the woman was holding back on him. But it didn't matter anyway. So far, he had gotten what he wanted.

╰ ₊° ☆ . ⊹ ˗ˏˋㅤㅤㅤ❛ Really ? WHERE ? Can you show me the way ? Or point me in the right direction, Mademoiselle ? ❜

╰ ₊° ☆ . ⊹ ˗ˏˋㅤㅤㅤThough, he cannot help but NOTICE the way the woman's smile seemed to dissipate as she spoke of his brother. What was that face for ? Hopefully such an expression wouldn't cause him any issues.

╰ ₊° ☆ . ⊹ ˗ˏˋㅤㅤㅤ❛ Why are you making that FACE ? ❜

[theladymuses]

What type of Love are you according to the Ancient Greeks?

Ludus [ playful love ]

Ludus is playful, noncommittal love. Ludus covers things like flirting, seduction, and casual sex. Ludus means “play” or “game” in Latin, and that pretty much explains what ludus is: love as a game.

tagged by: @luckquartzed

Wayna's note: this only took me forever to get to, LOL. I partially agree with this answer because, yes, Es does use love to get what she wants and treats it as a game. She is also very good with flirting, seduction etc. BUT, if we are talking about any romance outside of her job as a spy? Nahhhh, she falls deep and hard. Her loyalty, devotion and commitment to said person is something she can't help and it's only second to the same for her children. They will always be first.

[theladymuses]

@chaosbled sent . . .

“ please say something… anything. even if it’s telling me to shut up and leave you alone… just say something. “ ( 15!AU Chuuya @ Esme )

Esmé knew better than to say anything, not when she knew her head was anything but clear despite her best efforts to return to the security of cold rationality. Yet she couldn't keep the slightest twitch from the edge of her lower lip, thinly veiled behind her hand wiping at the powder at the corner.

She sets her hand down on the desk. The pen and the faint whirring of the road on ground level is all the noise she's heard in days.

When there is a loss on either side, choose that which will minimize the damage. A simple enough principle. Except she can't gauge the level when it's solely about her. Throw the Mafia's interest or her impulsively adopted wards into the mix, and it only takes a split second for her to make decisions. Her priorities are easy enough to distinguish then.

Not in the moment though.

She's good with words. A silver tongue, really, but for once she's resigned to silence. What is she supposed to say? It's not as if Chuuya knew. If anything about the situation was unclear to her, she could at least ask him if he'd known exactly who the kid caught in the crossfire was. Oh, how she wishes she felt the need to rip him to shreds; anything except the confusion of simply what to do with him. It's as if it's a review in the lesson of attachments. As Chuuya pleads for her to speak, she pleads to whatever will hear that she finds something to respond with, to make sense of whatever will eventually surface from her numbness.

Well, at least she knows she can't sit behind her desk and stare into his face.

Standing, the drag of her chair like a knife through butter in the silence, Esmé pulls her coat over her shoulders and glides right past him to make for the door he's just come through. All she can do is reach a hand up to squeeze his shoulder on her way out; not that she knows why. It was instinct, and those have not failed her yet.

Is the tightness in her throat a precursor of tears or bile rising in her stomach?

[theladymuses]

WHAT IS HOLDING YOU BACK?

the inability to cherish the good things that happen out of fear of them disappearing

You've been hurt, badly, haven't you? It's been a long time since you've felt comfortable in your own mind. Everything's become a sign that you're going to be hurt again. So when something good does come along, you're not used to it. It feels foreign. It's weird and scary. You want to believe that it will work out, but you just can't. You've been burned too many times. Because of this, you've become cynical. You never wanted it to be this way, but you're trying to protect yourself. I see how it's easier to not accept the good, out of fear of its inevitable end. Once the dust settles, you're terrified of being alone again. But by doing this, you're never enjoying those good moments. You're letting them pass you by. You have to start letting the happiness come to you. Even if it's in waves. Isn't that better than not at all?

Tagged by: @chaosbled

[theladymuses]

The Eleventh Harbinger relished battle, craved it even. It's a well-known fact amongst the Fatui, perhaps even rumoured beyond Snezhnaya. Naturally, Esmé knows it to be true, but she hadn't anticipated him to act as an odd mentor for her when invited to spar. Tartaglia knows his own skills—she knows this, too—so it's certainly not intended to boost his own ego or show off the battle prowess he is famous for, perhaps infamous. On the flip side, isn't logical for him to want to mentor her either. She hasn't shown any great interest or excellence in her combat abilities beyond what is required of her. Yes, she could be more, hypothetically do better, but it isn't a requirement, not for what she excels at.

In fact, she'd say Childe attracts too much spotlight for intelligence work, but it's arguable he isn't trying to keep himself hidden either. Perhaps battle is the Harbinger's preferred method of making acquaintances, of learning about someone. It might not be the most effective for the former, but she's no stranger to seeing the friendlier approach he takes. For the latter, though, it isn't a bad strategy. You can gauge quite a bit from combat—if your opponent is trained, if they have a particular style that might give away where they are from or who trained them, how their thoughts flow as they fight, their profession... The list goes on.

As anticipated, the Harbinger caught her weapon before it made any impact. Well, if he's going to treat this as mentorship, she will take up the role of a disciple. ❝ Isn't being prepared for the worst part of it? ❞ She asks, gaze flitting between his and the hand he holds his weapon with. She's aware he can retaliate still. ❝ And, who's to say this wasn't a distraction? ❞ She could use her free hand to strike, yes, but she hesitates, unsure if he wishes to continue their spar or if his intention is to turn this into a lesson of some kind.

Perhaps he was enjoying this a bit too much, but he was Tartaglia. He lived for battle, even if it was only a sparring match between himself and a soldier–or, more specifically, spy. It was still thrilling. There was still more to be learned. And it was informative as well, not just in terms of fighting but with who Esme was as a person. One could tell a lot based on how someone fights… There was much to be gleaned.

But she still surprised him. Walking towards the Harbinger as if their match was over before suddenly freezing the ground–and his shoes included. It was an underhanded method, but a method nevertheless. So she was going to use her vision…

Despite her speed, Tartaglia caught the pole with his fist–he was inhumanly fast, but if she was going to tap into special abilities, so would he. The Harbinger smirked. “Not bad… But what would you have done if you didn’t have your vision with you?” The truth was, this wasn’t some trick situation where she would lose no matter what she did. He had no need to boost his pride in such an underhanded manner. No, this was just supposed to be a learning experience for them both, but not many people saw fighting like he did.

[theladymuses]

WHY DO YOU HURT?

because you have made mistakes you cannot swallow

Mistakes come back to you like echoes in an empty cave. You have been trying since you started but does trying count? Is trying good enough? Every night it visits you, the pain that you have caused with your clumsy hands and venom-tongue. Life careens onward, onward, with the moon hung in the sky and the sun the day after, but you walk backwards on this path so you can keep sight of what you did. The destruction still feels fresh. It still feels like fire, where you burned them. Fire is supposed to be warm. It burned them, and it will swallow you. Blow out the candle. Let it rest. Some things are better left behind in the dark.

tagged by: @chaosbled (fanks for the tag! did es for you cause don't think we have threads with any other muses)

[theladymuses]

F: My muse's handwriting (is it good, bad, difficult to decipher, do they prefer writing by hand or with the help of some machine, etc.) ( for all 3 ; @diverse-hearts-ocs )

Esmé Cheney

I've talked about Esmé's handwriting before here! I will add that, because her handwriting is so inconsistent, she prefers to use a machine to write when she isn't writing for the purpose of forging. It also helps with keeping her anonymity.

Bianca Lancome

Bianca's handwriting depends on the language! Most languages she's fluent in her based on the English alphabet (French, Italian, Spanish and English) except for Japanese.

Her English handwriting is pretty She writes in small, thin cursives and it looks pretty and elegant. She's often been tasked with writing letters or invitations for that reason!

Bianca's Japanese handwriting is something of a progression depending on the timeline in her verses. When she first moved to Japan, her writing was terrible, so she preferred writing via machine to make things easier for her learning as well as others' reading. Over time, she's improved and has fairly decent handwriting. She will still get things wrong every now and then with Kanji so she still has a slight bias to writing Japanese via machine.

Miharu Ayuzawa

Miharu's handwriting is neat for day-to-day things like reports and correspondence. There's nothing particularly fancy she does with any language she writes in. Her preference is definitely machine writing because it's faster and she can get more done though she does enjoy a bit of calligraphy every now and then. It wouldn't be odd to find her fiddling with calligraphy pens occasionally or when she wants to write to someone she admires and means to impress. These are occasions she'll take to using her calligraphy skills and making her wiring look fancy!

[theladymuses]

🤔

❝ We get along somewhat, but I didn't expect him to check so many boxes... ❞

— Esmé (you have a pretty good shot, my guy <3)

[theladymuses]

Pushing herself off the door frame, she rolls her own sleeves up to prevent unnecessary stains—they'd hardly show up on a red top, though. The skin around the gash is inflamed, red as the blood that drips from the split it outlines. He really thought bandages would be enough? There's no scent of an ointment either. Thug behaviour, as always.

Esmé's well aware that the Captain despises being fussed over, something medics are rather notable at. Still, her eyes flick up to meet his, fingers perched on his arm to examine the laceration. ❝ Of course, Captain. How kind of you to note that I simply walk around with medical equipment! ❞ Sarcasm colors her words, but she makes no move to push him to move to the infirmary as her gaze returns to the tear.

❝ Sit. ❞ Those are the only instructions the woman leaves him with while making a run to and from the infirmary. When she returns, it's with an empty first aid box loaded with necessary supplies to treat him.

Esmé sets the box on her thigh, propped on one of his chair's support beams, cleaning up the blood, clipping off any loose flesh with laser-focused eyes. ❝ The gear's blade? ❞ It's the most likely candidate for the cut, but she doubts it's his own. Levi's far too skilled to slash himself like a recruit. Her mind's eye conjures up some plausible imagery to amuse her while she threads a needle and begins to stitch the flesh together.

Tch. Eyes divert downwards towards the wrapped wound on his arm, and sure enough... Shit. He is dripping blood. It's a mess he's tempted to deal with immediately, but he knows well enough that Esmé has other plans. Levi's gaze flits back towards her now. Her casual lean against the doorframe does not mask the heightened focus she has on locating his wound, and it won't take long for her to find it. He'd wrapped it – though evidently not well enough – and a tiny blotch grows on his arm; red seeps through. Blood stains are the worst stains.

But if anyone is going to look at his wound, it should be her. So, the Captain concedes to her request, unbuttons his sleeve. He rolls it up to reveal a bandage on his forearm – which he slowly pulls off to display the sizable gash underneath. He had acquired it by diving to pull a recruit from a titan's path after her gear malfunctioned. The pain causes his arm to throb. Damn. It's deeper than he thought. ❛ If it needs stitches, just do them here. I'm not going to the infirmary. ❜