So sorry it's so short~! In regards to you Lilypad1820 I lean more to showing him in a positive view. There was much to be desired from how Nono handled decisions that come later to bit him in the ass, but that is just my opinion. I Still own Nothing!
Ace felt like running the hell away from wherever Squalo was taking her. It felt as if he was leading her to her death.
They walked in silence passing a few people that looked at her in sympathy. Not helping. The mansion (She wasn't sure, but it seemed like it), was open and had minimal decorations. Doors were passed, some decorated in different colors or just a simple name plate. Curious. Soon they arrived to a door with a flame carved into it. Ace could feel her magic being agitated, but her flames were excited(?), it was such a weird feeling. She pulled her magic and flames closer to her and away from the 'surface' of her. She noticed Squalo looking at her in interest, but he didn't say anything and merely opened the door to a softly lit room.
...
Squalo noticed that Ace was small. Smaller than Belphegor, possibly younger. He couldn't help but wonder if he was doing the right thing by bring the kid into the Mafia, but he still remembered the night in the alley, and even if the face was blank, the cold face that the brat showed as he stomped on the throat of the man. It wasn't even as if he was worried if Ace could kill, because he had already seen that, but more of a concern of the darkness he would have to deal with if they don't have something to ground them. Many a good hitmen and assassins have to battle the darkness that seeps into the mind in order for it not to take over and cause them to go insane and cause a massacre of some sort. Sure the Varia was full of questionably sane people, but they all kept each other from falling to the darkness that their profession causes. Those that start killing at a young age are best trained and grounded before they start losing their grip on reality and often break leaving them broken killing machines to the people that collect them. Ace might not show suffering but bringing him into a fold that reminds him of life (regardless of how morally questionable it may be) will keep him from breaking.
When they stopped in front of boss's' door he felt Ace flames disappear. Ace presence was more of a buzzing feel with the liquid warmth associated with flames, but what Squalo had noticed was that it was barely noticeable, but now it was civilian level. That was a good sign of control. Maybe this was a good choice, the brat would be a force to reckon in a few years.
He looked over and grinned this was going to be interesting. Opening the door he couldn't help but tease the brat
"Make sure to come out in one piece brat" he was rewarded with an unimpressed closed eye look from him. It was impressive how a face could do that without the help of the eyes. He'll ask later. Maybe his eyes are weird or he could be like Belphegor in insisting covering his eyes with hair. Whatever he'll have time later.
...
Ace stepped into the room alone as Squalo left her alone in the room. Coward.
She could feel the power of whoever this 'Boss' was pressing around her like a physical thing. Whoever this person was had an impressive aura, if she hadn't lived on the streets and seen the darker parts of the world she knew she would have been trembling in fear like most. For now she just raised an eyebrow when a glass came sailing to her head. She only tilted her head to avoid the attack. Well. These people really are friendly. Not.
The man that had thrown the glass was lounging on a throne like chair, eyes closed (much like her), and wine bottle in his left hand. She walked forward trying to see more than just an outline of the man. When she reached the chairs on the other side of his desk she had to incline her head again to avoid the bottle.
She sighed, "Really now? Must you all be so welcoming ?" She asked in Japanese. Emphasizing the last word to stress that she was not feeling welcomed in the least. Whatever not her problem.
"Brat" the man had grounded out. It was rough and had a edge to it that promised pain. She raised her eyebrow. He had open his eyes to reveal blood red iris that flicker with so many emotions that contrasted the impassive face he held. Intense was putting it mildly. She felt she was drowning in the anger and grief she saw in his eyes. Almost like she was looking into her own eyes, but more carefully handled. She knew then that this man understood what it was to lose something important and know the feeling of failure. So a fellow street kid that had risen from that miserable reality and had found something worth living for, but had lost some of it. Not all because there was still a fire there, but he had a few hard blows recently. So she couldn't help but feel a connection with the man. So when he closed his eyes a second later she couldn't help but ask
"So...who'd you fail?", only to see the man's eyes snap open in surprise and widen slightly when they saw her own eyes.
