#i so very badly wanted to make this super tender but it needed the battler pizazz tm (aka him being weird)

[spirestar]

@heartinhands : [ ADJUST ] sender fixes receiver’s tie ( beabato )

BATTLER is a flurry of velvet and gold: Butterflies swirling without a place to light as he tears apart the study, each one readjusting every item he touches back to its proper place / Cloak billowing in a nonexistent breeze, threatening to ooze inky twilight and stars into the very fabric of the room itself. He is the Territory Lord, after all, and the single human that could unwrite his magic has yet to arrive on the stage.

When the many locks on the study door loudly click and release -- He can't remember setting them exactly, but the mansion is wont to shut itself up by nature of its writing -- he doesn't even turn around, both his hands and mind are too occupied by the spines of books that he's searching through with obvious frustration.

So, when an elegant hand takes him by the shoulder and turns him, when its owner gives him a smirk and reaches first to primly straighten out his heavy draping cape, then checks his vest the same way, and finally tugs at his tie with a cackle, all Battler does is take one quick breath.

"Beato--" A bit of the tension in his overwhelmed expression melts away as he says her name, mind finally catching up to the sight of her. Now he looks more anxious than anything else. His hands flutter between them just like the butterflies that immediately begin to drift toward the Golden Witch of 1986. Land in her hair and dance on her sleeves / They're innately drawn to her, of course. How couldn't they be if they're Battler's? "I can't find it--It's gone, I can't--Gaap swears she didn't take it, and we only just prepared the chapel, it's supposed to be anchored here, I--"