Chapter 1

[thenine]

Who: OTA
Where: Quad
When: Week 1, Day 1 - Week 2, Day 1
Summary: Game launch prompts!
Restrictions/Warnings: Violence, blood, et cetera. For anything surpassing 'R' on a rating scale, please create your own log.
Notes: Please title your subject line in the following format -- Open / Closed | Date. OOC event information can be found here.

Quick Navigation
The Nine
The Company
Leith
True Leithians
Westies
Resistance
The RAC

The Nine

Hushed whispers and conversations behind sealed doors spread throughout Qresh, carrying with them rumor of the Lady Derrish's illness. Poisoned, some say, as they speak their quiet murmurs and the news travels like wildfire. It lights up the nobility with a new cause - there is no heir to the Derrish name. At least, none that is known. A surrogate mother carries the only Derrish child to be related by blood. She dwells on Leith, though her location is obscured to everyone who seeks her - both those who wish to help and those who would do harm. Some wish to procure the heir - whether following the warrant for his retrieval or hoping to gain favor with the Nine by gift or by blackmail. Some wish the heir dead, seeking to cause a power vacuum that could lead to a bloody war as families of the Nine scramble to gobble up Derrish land. All have backring that can be traced back to the nobility, each family pursuing their own agenda. 'False' heirs, those who claim to be related, or bastard children, either rise up in hopes of fortune or hide in fear of those who would stamp out the family name for good. On Leith there is said to be a hotel staffed by the most beautiful woman, run by a man who no one has ever seen. Only those with money or influence may stay the night at Blessed Branches, though anyone seeking fine wine and good company may occupy its lounge. Many come hoping to spend time with the hostesses, though the girls aren't known for taking bribes or slipping away for a 'good time'. It is here, in one of the premium guestrooms, that the surrogate heir and his mother are housed. The other women are unaware of her status - simply taking care of her as one of their own - and how much the owner knows is as difficult to pin down as he is. Any display of violence is sure to be noticed, as Company officials and RAC agents alike guard the building for significant pay. Getting in may be simple for some, but getting out is far more difficult. The mother's room is on the 10th story, with its few windows locked and curtains closed. As she approaches her delivery date, help comes and goes with frequency, but on no specific schedule. Criminals and RAC agents alike chatter in the streets of Westerley and Leith over just who, and where, this woman could be. Many assume she lodges with the surrogate clusters hidden on Westerley - heavily guarded by men and treacherous landscape alike. Others seek beyond the Quad, and some assume she's already dead. No matter the cause, no matter its difficulty, the rush to find the woman and unborn baby only grows. Some may consult information brokers, some may attempt to find their way into the genetic databases, some may rely on word of mouth, and some may lay in wait for others to do the sleuthing work before closing in on their target.

The Company

"We need to send a message," every Company employee receives the same directive, "Loud and clear." Rules are rules, and there is no room for disobedience - neither within nor outside of the Company. The citizens of Westerley have become more unruly than usual, taking out their frustrations with their lot in life on the Company and on society. Or so the directive says. It is for the good of the Company, and for those loyal citizens who keep their heads down and do their duty, to expunge the corrosive minds from society and extinguish the flames of a foolish rebellion. From prisoner guards to those selected to string criminals up for execution, to those who stand watch over the sizzling corpses (or soon to be corpses) belonging to symbols of the rebellion left out in the rain to die, to those in charge of door-to-door or man-to-man ID checks, every bit of available manpower in the Company is being used to secure the city. Some may begrudge their work, while others delight in the lax restriction on violence towards citizens. All should keep their heads down, lest they become yet another target for the efforts to 'increase security' in the city. A heatwave that brings with it Black Rain makes the job difficult and treacherous - stay out too long and you could get caught in a storm. Just the same as the local Westies, all of whom are more or less stranded in their homes - or the bars they passed out in the night before - everyone is scrimping by with whatever provisions remain. Only those Company officials lucky enough to live on Company property, a compound of barracks that provides middling levels of comfort, don't worry for their necessities. Travel through the tunnels may afford the few who know of their existence more mobility - the ability to help others, to stockpile what they need, or to make an impressive capture - but comes with its own dangers. From the culture that lives there to the increased presence of resistance groups making their safe-houses in the vast, winding network, some may decide that the potential dangers aren't worth the trip, and others may wish they had.

Leith

Every season brings a new batch of harvest workers—old, young, adventurous, desperate. But it doesn’t matter whether a worker has tended to the same hokk farm for ten years: when the limits of a work visa are reached, they must return to their planet of origin or face severe penalties. Sometimes, though, people slip through the cracks. Sometimes people change their genetic records altogether to make sure it happens. Whether it’s an individual who refuses to return to the cage of Westerley or a merchant willing to look the other way for off-the-books labor, visa law enforcement is critical to the Quad. Targets identified as “high risk”—those individuals who have a profile of criminal behavior or have given the Company reason to take a second look at their credentials in the past—are being routinely rounded up to ensure their genetic identities and visa information still coincide. Killjoys and Company enforcers are being deployed in equal measure to address this potential security concern in the days leading up to “harvest week”, the seasonal break where workers return home and a new batch of hopefuls arrives on Leith. For some, this can be a minor inconvenience, taking DNA samples and conversing with understandably irritable workers—for others, this could be a potentially fatal encounter and lead into Leith’s darker underbelly. For whatever reason a target has chosen to stay or change their identity, they have done so at great and calculated risk. They will fight without discrimination to stay hidden and maintain their secret--as, at times, will their employers. Maybe they've decided to pursue a more lucrative line of work, using Leith's fertile soils to grow illicit substances, or perhaps they've simply decided that their fate should be in their own hands, and not that of a visa agency. Either way, they won't go quietly.

True Leithians

Gunfire is lost under the sound of the rain. The pitter-patter of acidic water beats in tandem to Company rifles and shouts, the flash of grenades like fireflies in the distance. The Family Registry Bureau, well-guarded and set on the outskirts of Old Town, shakes and shudders with each successive boom, debris falling as the battle escalates. “For Leith!” A single voice rises above the commotion and for a moment, the night is still, the incessant rain seeming to take heed, as if the clouds themselves have paused to see what will unfold. The building collapses. Fire billows out in violent plumes, snaking through the twisted metal and broken glass. Survivors on both sides disperse like scattered marbles. By morning, the dead have been dissolved to bone by the rain, and Company enforcers are out to ensure that scavengers don’t take their pick of the remaining materials. Officials are tight-lipped about what, if anything, was taken during the attack, but word on the street spreads fast—there’s a man hunt and hundreds of genetic identities are up for grabs. Criminal activity in Eulogy sees an all-time spike as bartered goods come in, though not everyone in Eulogy or the criminal world takes kindly to stealing from their own. Nor do they care for the sudden attention drawn to their illicit little den, making it a hot bed of Killjoy and undercover Company activity. But Eulogy isn't the only place to see unwelcome guests. On and off Westerley, news of the attack spreads, and agents of each organization race to come out on top. Whether it’s a Killjoy tasked with locating the perpetrators, a True Leithian conspirator on the run, a Westie out for revenge and securing their future in the Seventh Generation accord, or a Company Enforcer on orders of execution off planet—everyone has someone’s number, and time is quickly running out for each of them.

Westies

The heat hangs over Westerley like a blanket laid down over a fever, suffocating and addling. Sign posts flicker erratically between Company propaganda and storm advisory warnings. Old Town’s streets, normally buzzing and bursting with life, are like a ghost town. The few stragglers that remain move like worms, slowly and carefully, their bodies bowed over the carts they push as if the sun has melted away their will to walk. In the square of the town, a group of well-clad Company men and women hurriedly work, bolting modern day stocks into the concrete. Prisoners, red jumpsuits and heads covered in black shrouds, are roughly shuffled between the soldiers as they’re chained and bound to the stakes. Only once they’re secured are they allowed to see the light of day—for the first and last time in years. The squadron commander, a stalwart woman, takes up the intercom on her truck, her voice booming through each sign post in Old Town when she speaks. “Westerlens, for high treason and threats to the public good, these prisoners are hereby brought to this place of execution where they shall be exposed to the elements until dead. By order of the Company, serving the Quad.” Seconds later, the sirens start. The soldiers finish their work with haste and pile into their vehicle. The sky, moments before overbearingly bright, disappears under inky shadow, bruised green and red as violent clouds spread out like reaching fingers. The storm rolls in without mercy or pause, enveloping the light of the day by visible inches. Acidic rainfall begins to pelt down, not lightly, not drifting, but in a hard, unrelenting stream. Anyone caught within it has but hours to survive, and moments to escape disfiguring injury. The storms will rage for three days with few breaks in between. But the environment is hardly the only, or even the worst, thing Westies have to worry about.

Resistance

The rebellion suffered a crushing blow. Of course, rebellions in Old Town are used to that--but with key leaders gone, Resistance members are scattered like grains of sand across glass, rolling further and further apart. Some individuals seek to take the power vacuum as their own chance at power, but they're met with staunch rebuttal, splitting this already fragile organization into smaller and smaller cells. Under the cover of the acidic storms, the remaining members of the Resistance take to the undercity, whispering into the ears of the discontent and angry. Follow the branch that's extended to you, they say, and you'll find a new place to grow roots. And so those roots do grow, down walls, on pieces of passed paper, across the hands of those who harbor dissent. It's a symbol, a living, growing map, of a new haven. Innocuous to those who don't know what it means, symbolic and religious, but to those who seek out its meaning? They'll delve to the very deepest parts of the undercity, a place manned only by those wearing the yellow and gold of the Scarbacks. There, a secure military bunker is hidden beneath the layers of Old Town, lost to all but the original blueprints of the city. Its concrete walls hold the barest bones of supplies, but there's potential, a skeleton upon which the rebellion can build its strength and muster the will to stand again. Finding the bunker, though arduous, isn't the hardest part. Getting in? That will take connections, charisma. Trust. The Resistance is in awful short supply of that last right about now.

The RAC

The RAC, as ever, maintains its neutrality and follows its singular mandate: the warrant is all. But that isn't to say that there can't be a little fun in the process--between serving out warrants issued on behalf of the other factions and singular individuals, the top teams within the Quad will receive a special directive. Black Warrant For all teams, whether temporarily formed for the sake of pursuit or permanently aligned, this presents a unique opportunity to compete against their fellow RAC agents. All manner of subterfuge is encouraged, although directly attacking your fellow Killjoys will receive at least one bad review on social networking apps. But while killing your competition isn't allowed, making their life impossibly difficult and taking the prize for yourself? That's the very definition of the game. This is a competitive warrant, open to all Killjoy teams with a level 4 agent or higher. Your task is simple in description but far from it in nature: find and secure an heir for Land Derrish before your opponents. The catch (there's always a catch, isn't there?) -- you'll be fighting off more than your compatriot Killjoys. Criminals and mercenaries will be gunning for the same targets, and there's a mountain of bureaucracy standing in your way to figuring out who is a legitimate heir, if one exists at all. Your time is short* and your competition is fierce. May the best team win. *Week 1, Day 2 - Week 1, Day 5

Comments

[theunluckygirl]

[She tenses in surprise and half-turns to the door as Kanda moves into a ready position, her mind freeing in the absence of a plan of action.

Since she's up out of her seat already, she walks away from them both, just a little, arms crossed over her chest. She's half-hugging herself for comfort, considering it all.]

...It's heavy... [Is all she says after a moment.] They don't go into that part of the fairy tales, when Rapunzel escapes from her tower, or Cinderella escapes her evil step-mother. Freedom is suffocating and more terrifying and heavier than the chains you left behind. But, even knowing that... I don't want to go back.

[She's aware that, if they wanted to, they could easily drag her back anyhow. She might have the choice, but in the end her fate is ultimately up to whether they respect it or not.]

I... don't want to be a burden to you on your ship, either. So, the bodyguard... Yes, that would be best, probably, but-- [Jennifer chews on her bottom lip a moment, turning to look at them in concern] Wouldn't it endanger the other people here if I stayed? If someone else came looking for me and these people got caught in the crossfire... Is there a-- a safe house or some place I could stay a little while with the bodyguard until this is done?

in which he says nothing but faintly thinks terrible things

[inksplashes]

[ The most highly trained people in the Quad will be gunning after her--hell, he'd be among them if Kanda hadn't specifically requested he not do so.

Safe house or not, there will be no safe haven for her. No place where she might hide from the world and not entrench upon it with her presence.

It's kind of her to care, but just as he'd thought when he first met her, she's doomed to an early grave with such a soft heart like that.

(Absently, he wonders, if he'll be there to see the coffin nails put in place, or if he'll have moved on with a new name, a new record.)

But none of this Lavi says, offering a half-hearted shrug in place of his true thoughts, because he's not the leader here--his partner is. Yu seems to think letting this girl have a hand in her fate might make up for how little control he'd had in his own past, so Lavi is along for the ride as damage control.

And, if need be, for digging that grave. ]

[lotusmesenpai]

[Just a shrug from Lavi, and Kanda thinks he's more 'Bookman' than 'Killjoy' in that moment... which means the hubris of this decision falls largely on him.

No more than he'd expected, and no less than he deserved if this flew sideways.

Still.

He listens to her self-debate, props his temple to fist as he waits it out. At least she's looking at it with both eyes open, rather than staying stuck in those useless fairy tales. At least she recognizes the weight of her action, the cost to those around her should she remain.

But even then.

Snorting, he arches a brow at her, his tone dry.]

...Sure, you can attempt a safehouse if you had the money, but you don't. We wouldn't even begin to have those kind of resources, woman. So if you don't want to be a burden, get stronger. If you don't want to be a liability, learn to fight. Beyond that... [shrugging, he shakes his head.] we can get you a bodyguard, and you can use them as a meatshield.

Either way, you know what's coming, now.

[Clearly, no one's ever accused Kanda of having a good bedside manner.]

[theunluckygirl]

[She winces slightly at his tone and his word choices, but after a moment sh nods. She's not a fighter-- she doesn't think she ever could be, but he's right in a way anyhow. She has to get stronger somehow, but she's not thinking of protecting herself specifically. It's more like, 'if I can protect myself better, I can protect others from getting caught up in this too.'

Jennifer nods again, a little more firmly this time, and moves back to take a seat again, this time with a sense of purpose.]

Alright. So, what do I have to do? [And then, after a moment, she seems to realize the more important question she should be asking is why they're helping her to begin with. They got this contract too, didn't they? She looks to Lavi, and then back to Kanda who is clearly the one calling the shots here, with an open curiosity and mild confusion. She doesn't voice the question yet though--this doesn't seem the time just yet to ask such things, and she doesn't want to make them change their minds anyhow.]

[inksplashes]

[ Chuckling, if a bit darkly, Lavi gives his partner one of the looks he's well-accustomed to receiving, the 'ah, you could try to be less of a dick, though' kind, and shakes his head.

He may just be here to act as a failsafe if this situation gets out of hand, and he will--make no mistake--turn her over to those wolves if it means saving his team's standing or life, but..

He is at least decidedly better at instructions. Moving away from Kanda, he approaches Jennifer with a smile, index finger lightly tapping under her chin where he'd once twirled a flower. ]

Start by telling this guy to shove off for talking to you like that. Remember what I told you about monsters, Princess?

Today, we're yours.

[ Leaning closer, his smile isn't changed, but his voice drops a little lower--a warning for her to take to heart. ]

But tomorrow, we might be someone else's. Remember that. Now go get changed, we've been here too long.

[theunluckygirl]

[Jennifer sits up a little straighter, uncrossing her legs as Lavi approaches and tilting her head up to meet his gaze. Lips part, words she can't verbalize trying and failing to form on her tongue. She doesn't know what to say, but she remembers those words and her eyes soften slightly-- you're not a monster, her gaze seems to say, but she doesn't voice it, doesn't need to. She wets her lips with the tip of her tongue and wills herself to not move away as he leans in.

She watches and she waits and she listens, as she always has, and she says nothing to that. Loyalties changed so often and it was exhausting, but Kanda had turned his back on her contract before, and he was risking things now too, wasn't he? She doesn't think he has any stake in her so much as the idea of her, but Jennifer was used to being a symbol of something else and not a person.

Lavi, she thinks, she knows, doesn't have such a thing holding onto him. And, she thinks, she knows, she is safer when Kanda's hands are on the reigns.

Still, she slowly rises and pauses as she passes Lavi, hesitating. Again there are too many words, too many thing she could say. Instead she reaches out and lays a light hand on his arm, but her eyes stare straight head, not looking at him.] ...Thank you. [Polite and sincere.] But... When you smile like that... It hurts too. [That part isn't quite directed at Lavi even if it's about him, but it's said more in a musing tone to herself.

And then she moves to grab the clothes and disappear to the bathroom to change.]

[lotusmesenpai]

[Kanda watches the exchange, nonplussed, and only just manages to hold his tongue until Jennifer disappears into the bathroom. Once there, Kanda pushes to his feet and steps close enough to ensure his voice doesn't carry.

Leaning in, he scowls at Lavi, brows furrowed and eyes bright with irritation.]

What the fuck was that about?

[Seriously - don't give him a look just for being blunt, if you're just going to toss veiled threats at the girl.

The rest of the meaning to their conversation is, essentially, lost on Kanda since he hadn't been there for it, but the intent was obvious enough to him - put the woman on guard, even with them.

The method of delivery leaves somewhat to be desired, to him.]

[inksplashes]

[ ...ah, two people now who don't care much for this liar's smile, is it?

Lavi lets her touch fade like a burn, warmth lingering, gaze and expression unchanged until he hears the soft click of the door. Even then, she had wanted to say it, didn't she? That they weren't monsters because they didn't want for it, but that point of view..

Yes, he concludes, I'll probably still be "Lavi" at that time.

When the world finally breaks her in half and buries her, whether or not that death is physical. Like the rose he'd crushed, she'll become a faded memory of something beautiful, and nothing in this world can change that, because that.. is just how humans are.

Speaking of humans, however, he seems to have a suddenly very angry one at his side. Blinking in honest confusion, Lavi raises an eyebrow at his irritable partner, smile flickering briefly in question. ]

If the warrant changed, so would our motives. So would her bodyguard's motives. She shouldn't trust anyone, not even us. Why?

[ ???? help randomly angry kandas released from zoo ]

[lotusmesenpai]

[Why had it bothered him, really?

It's not like he actually disagrees with Lavi's reasoning, or even the necessity to make her aware of just how situations can change in a place like this.

And, truth be told, if the warrant did change, it is still entirely possible that they'd be right back at her door despite giving her the option now to decide which way she wanted to jump.

...honestly, he can't say why it rankled, but he's not invested enough to care.

Instead, he lets out an irritated growl and turns back away, paces over to the window to scan the streets below.]

Whatever.

[Watching those meandering below, he does actually see a familiar face and it starts the gears turning in a different direction instead.]

Got anyone in mind to get to play babysitter, or is that one on me as well?

[inksplashes]

[ Ordinarily quite adept at reading people, especially those he's familiar with, Lavi stares for a moment after Yu turns away, not quite grasping what has the other man so irritated.

Then concludes, with a slight sigh, that he could spend three lifetimes with Yu and still not understand what's made him angry on a given day, so it's something he can worry about later.

And thankfully, the subject turns away as swiftly as his brooding partner. Lavi resumes his beaming smile, hands slid comfortably back into his coat. Chuckling, he shakes his head softly in denial, then gives that same faint shrug by way of answering.

He knows plenty of people who could do it, but none he'd ask to jump into this foolish plan--nor anyone else he'd be willing to play backup for during it.

So no, Yu isn't "on his own", but he's not getting any help drowning the both of them with his sudden heroics, either. ]

I wonder what's taking her so long? There was barely anything to put on..

[theunluckygirl]

["Barely anything to put on" was part of the problem, honestly. The girl that Lavi had gotten the clothes from was shorter than Jennifer, which made the already short dress much shorter in comparison. It fit okay everywhere else, and honestly she didn't dislike it utterly, but the length... She didn't know how to wear a dress this short.

She considers living in the bathroom or maybe just pretending the dress had somehow, magically, become ruined in the short time it had laid out and she just had to stick to her more modest clothing.

The door cracks open, hesitating, before Jennifer walks out, taking note instantly of a strange tension in the room and their changed positions. Tugging at the hem of her dress, continuing to smooth it down with the paranoia that it was going to ride up too far, she looks uncertainly between the two. Her hair is still pulled up in its tight bun, but the shoes fit and the rest of her looks more normal, if incredibly uncomfortable.]

Is... this really necessary? [The outfit change, she means]

[lotusmesenpai]

[Fortunately, Jennifer's timely reappearance saves Kanda from making the observation that would likely reveal just how little he actually knows about how long it takes women to get ready for... anything.

Instead, he passes a quick, almost clinical eye over her and shrugs.]

You still look too clean. And learn to slouch, woman. You stand out with that posture.

[Glancing back out the window, he watches a Company man make his slow way closer, stopping locals every few feet to check their papers. Ever the helpful one, this guy.]

[inksplashes]

[ A low wolf whistle meets her entrance, Lavi raising his eyebrows suggestively, wild grin in place--

--and then slides a look of hopelessness to Kanda, one that no doubt goes ignored because the man sees it on a regular basis. ]

Ignore him. [ Lavi does.

Yu isn't wrong, though. She still looks off-kilter, too clean and prim to blend into the crowds of Westerley. Frowning slightly, he takes a few steps towards her, then around her in a half circle, humming lightly under his breath.

Ah!

Wordlessly he reaches forward, pulling at the pins in her hair with well-practiced ease. He's often pulling Kanda's hair down, so it's not that different now--there's just less chance of being shot in rebuke.

Another whistle, leaning towards her with a shameless ogle. Eyes top to bottom and then all over her again. ]

Definitely necessary. For security, you know. And my belief in the good in this world.

[theunluckygirl]

[She looks at a loss. Too clean? Slouch?? Should she go roll around in the dirt a little or something? She looks automatically to Lavi for help, only to find him already circling her. For one, crazy second, it makes her think of a wolf circling its prey.

Unsure of what he's doing, Jennifer holds herself still, twisting her hands in front of her chest.] Um-- [And then a yelp as he suddenly pulls the pins out, forcing her hair to unravel. This being real life and not some fictional universe in any sense of the word, her hair doesn't fall in a perfect curtain around her shoulders. It feels heavy when its down, surprisingly long and messy. Jennifer expression turns baffled and confused, looking between Lavi and Kanda.]

What-- I don't understand? [What does her in this outfit have anything to do with his belief in good things?? Help]

[lotusmesenpai]

Don't fucking ignore him - me.

[Scoffing, Kanda shakes his head as he finally turns from the window, watches Lavi flit around Jennifer before he finally steps closer, flicks a lock of hair off her shoulder and taps her forehead.]

It's not complicated, woman. You need to adapt to your setting. Westies aren't this clean. Brush your hair less or look a little less clean or something.

[Yeah he's still scowling because this part? Not his specialty. Lavi's the one that usually builds their covers, creates those particular illusions. Cutting his gaze over to Lavi then, Kanda steps back and nods to the door.]

I saw someone that might be ideal for sticking with her. Stay here and I dunno, make her a little dirty or whatever the hell it is you do for these things.

[And he means that in a literal sense - use dirt and scrub it on her skin or something. Either way, he's just going to spin and head towards the door now.]

mod override jennifer is a disney princess her hair is carried down by singing birds

[inksplashes]

[ Mouth opening with some semblance of a reply on his lips, he stares at the door for a moment after Kanda makes his dramatic exit...

As much as he would ordinarily take the time to poke fun at Yu's choice of words, probably twist the obvious innuendo into another opportunity to hit on a pretty girl, it's not really the time or place. Lavi is keeping up the air of good fun, but there's an element of very real and very pressing danger in what they're doing. Dallying further isn't advised.

... so he closes his mouth, offering a helpless shrug to the confused girl and rubbing at his brow. ]

He... wasn't hugged enough as a child. We're working on it.

[ How to explain manipulating your image into something low-class to someone who, for all intents and purposes, has probably been raised to do the very opposite? To hold her head above others because she's--or was--Qreshi?

It's less about how you look and more about how you carry yourself. Jennifer carries herself with entirely too much grace and etiquette. ]

Let's try this. Think about everything that would've made your family upset if you did it at a party. Now do that. Speak wrong. Stand wrong. Be everything you think is wrong. Just for a little while.

i think this is an abuse of mod power??

[theunluckygirl]

[Jennifer's expression goes carefully blank at his suggestion, years of hiding her true feelings coming into play now. She's incredulous at the suggestion-- not for the suggestion itself, which is logical and, all, but--]

Everything I did made my family upset. I am everything that's wrong. [Her voice is carefully, deliberately, hollow and neutral. There was no amount of poise and good manners or haughty looks she could give that would've changed that.

But after a moment she lowers her gaze submissively and tugs her dress down self-consciously. Like a spell being broken, her normal soft tone is back] But... I know the point you're trying to make. I'll try.

denied

[inksplashes]

[ Privileged girl.

It was hard for her, he's sure--trying and difficult, to walk in the shadow of constant disapproval, but for all that her reaction might normally pull at the heartstrings of others, it just makes him think.. how fortunate she really has been to this point.

How sheltered she truly is.

So though he feels that slight pang of concern, he ignores it. Remains unfazed. Untouched. Stubbornly pushing that human inclination to empathize aside, his smile grows a little colder for a moment, head bowing.

Laying a hand gently at her shoulder, Lavi speaks in a whisper as if to keep their words a hallowed secret. ]

There isn't anyone who is without their share of shame, Princess.

[ Turning from her to the door, he lets his hand fall away, voice slightly harder. ]

Wear yours with pride for having endured. Many do not.