#it's my first try at proper tailoring after all doesn't need to be perfect

[dkettchen]

I made myself a floral-patterned victorian-inspired waistcoat as the first step to the lovecore suit I eventually want to make for (my dragsona) Valentine

[shiawasekai]

So I've been giving a lot of thought to Nela's self-image issues, aka the cognitive dissonance that makes it so she can't recognize herself in a mirror (+ all the extra issues mounted on top of that). Because, yes, Samel's arrival knocks her out from her downward spiral and starts her on the road of Proper Mourning and Actually Dealing With Her Grief... But it does very little to cover the other side of the problem beyond unveiling its existence to others.

After all, no amount of people saying she looks good is going to help. It has never been about looking good or bad, that's the lesser of her problems.

Further disclaimer: at any point when I talk about Nela's post-game recovery, I don't mean it in a "she's fixed now" way. She IS a different person now because of what happened to her. The consequences and the baggage is something she'll carry her entire life, something that will keep shaping her choices. Especially the self-image issues, those are notoriously hard to wholly fight off.

It's also not something that gets immediately fixed. It's a long and hard process and it takes years. Sometimes it sees no progress at all in months, sometimes there are setbacks and... Sometimes there is a milestone that helps her take one leap forward in a very short time.

And what I was searching is the latter, because if I tried to have her just look to a mirror until her brain decided to accept the reflection as Nela, I would have her self-harming again. Which is fine as a setback to spice up the process, but not what I'm looking for here.

And I'm having a hard time trying to describe the scene in my head, so bear with me here.

I think most people have at some point fantasized about an older version of themselves. A dream job, maybe having that pet your family always denied to you. The key element is you fantasized about this older version of yourself.

And that's what I want to exploit.

I did establish before that Nela's family was... not rich. They did fine for the times they lived, all things considered, but they had no money to splurge. I've also mentioned often her parents were tailors, and both twins helped out at their shop and learnt the trade (mostly Samel, Nela was a terrible apprentice and ended up taking tasks like bookkeeping and cleaning instead).

The image I had is of a young teenaged Nela watching her mother work, absolutely taken by the outfit she's working on. It's not in any style the practical Nela usually likes, and yet she truly cannot stop looking at it.

Her mother notices her daughter's interest, and promises her to make it for her when she's older and a bit more civilised. They'll get the money for some good fabric too.

Nela is too much of a teenager to ever admit it and grumbles instead, but a part of her is dreaming with that day. With nice clothes in pretty colours, with the indulgence of it. Money is tight and often the choice is between food or clothes. Sometimes they even need to go out and forage, taxes have gone up again. It doesn't look like the war is going to end anytime soon.

Many years later, Nela is standing in front of a mirror in an outfit so, so similar to the one that distant day. And, for the first time ever since she awakened in Kenabres, the person looking back isn't a stranger: it's the woman she once was in her fantasies. She recognizes her.

It's not quite a perfect match. Her dream adult self didn't have that many feathers, or scars from war. Her mother never got to make it for her, but that one memory of an unfulfilled promise is now an anchor that connects the past and the present.

For the first time in years at that point, she sees herself in the mirror.

[r-adio]

HE HAD PERFECTED HIS TONE, OVER LONG, LONG YEARS. NOTHING THAT HE SAID WENT WITHOUT PRACTICE. HE'D BEEN TALKING TO THE MASSES FOR AS LONG AS HE HAD LIVED. paired with the best weapon that a gentleman could have, a smile. he's pretending the part of being unbothered in the other's presence. nothing can get under his skin, nothing can anger him. he's always in CONTROL so long as he remains in his calm demeanor. there is no need for senseless cat fights, not ones that leave the realm of a verbal disagreement. the tailors would certainly not appreciate the hostility in their atmosphere. receiving his handshake, he keeps it FIRM & FRIENDLY, as if there was no malice behind the gesture in the first place. just another way of holding control over the situation; making the other give into his cheeky whims.

he does take note that the other wipes his hand off rather quickly after their handshake; offensive to say the least. ALASTOR cannot stand being treated the same as a common demon. he believed himself to be much above the commonfolk. a demon with class, taste beyond the bloodlust & senseless murder. sure, he was one to partake from time to time, but what was in a little enjoyment.

❝ oh, but, i cannot say i have. your face doesn't ring a bell to me, i'm not the type to keep up with all of those news broadcasts, or whatever other silly things you might be apart of. i ONLY have a taste for what's right in front of me. you seem to be ashamed to give a proper introduction, and here i was, sharing my business so openly. a drag, if i must say. ❞ — flaunting his lack of knowledge for fun's sake. he's partially aware of who he is talking to, but he wishes to hear it from the serpent's mouth. unwilling to go off of notoriety. it means nothing to him. ❝ lonely? oh dear, is that the impression that you've gotten from me? what a shame, what a shame. here i was, just trying to be a friendly man. i hope i didn't offend you with any of my previous comments. but, it will happen again. what can i say, ❞

The air was never silent, this man spoke like an auctioneer selling their pitch off to the masses. Very pushy, in every annoying way imaginable. Lucifer noticed the constant smile the other adorned on his features as he spoke and got some sense of familiarity; using a smile as a weapon. The King of Hell knew that ploy all too well, which also left him on edge to the unknown of this situation. Against his better judgement, he allowed his hand out to shake hands, surprised by the firm grip and rapid movements that followed after.

Lucifer had to fix his hat that shifted from the erratic gesture, annoyance laced in his stare still, wiping his now tainted hand after parting onto his coat casually, but with some disgust to it. However, hopefully it never showed from the smile he held through this entire exchange.

⸺ ❝ Ha! Nice try, buddy. But everyone who's anyone knows who I am. Gotta be living under a rock or something if you don't. And if you're feeling lonely, there's a mirror right there. Try it sometime. ❞

Alright, he humored the guy! That's gotta be the end to it, right? Little did Lucifer realize by humoring the other, he'd just open Pandora's Box.