-Chapter 8- (The Old Kingdom - Riot of the Blood Kyo)
"I don't understand him at all." Hana confessed to Marle. They were alone in her room, discussing late events.
"He's as cold as a long-dead beast in the far north, and about as untouchable as a double-edged sword with no hilt. How in the world do you expect me to warm up to a perpetually frowning and constantly disgusted animal?"
Marle knotted her eyebrows and gave a slight smile. "Well, I don't know..."
Hana shook her head vigorously.
"At least I'm getting paid for this. When's the next payday?"
"Um... Tomorrow, I think." Marle replied.
"Alright. We need a plan." Hana suggested. "Hrm."
Marle spoke up. "Well it said on your resume that you were a specialist of ne... neur..." She trailed off, looking for the right pronounciation.
"Neurological Study."
"Right. So... use that. Or something."
"Okay, so let's think of him as a puzzle. We just gotta' put it together right and get inside his head... What does he find attractive, anyway?"
Marle gave a look of obliviousness. "How should I know?"
They thought for a while, then Marle realized something.
"You know when you put his hand to your face?"
"Yeah."
"I don't think he found that very comfortable...!" And with that, Marle burst into a fit of giggling.
Strangely enough, Marle was right. She hardly knew this man, and with the whiff of a golden coin, his emotions could be played with to no avail. And although he played no part in this false cherub heart-striking, Lothair, Fal's closest family member, knew of this plan. He made no effort to end it, though, and this was on guilty cause of his curiosity of his brother's whereabouts these past years. He was as elusive as a snake, and kept his disposition well hidden under a veil of petrified disgust. A lover, it seemed, was impossible, but alas Lothair believed in the efforts put forward by his daughter and the perseverant Hana. She was beautiful, and her rough-cut personality may just be enough to let her enter William's dreary heart. In a way, Lothair was involved.
Certainly, he was.
More than he realized, it seemed, as he was the one fueling Hana's budget and discluding himself from the short hallways where they met. He felt guilty, but there was no harm in trying.
Hana's black hair flowed from her shoulder. She had mentally prepared to face Fal that day, and she had a sword at her side to accompany her. Being a freelance "Adventurer", she had training in many platforms of work, including swordfighting. Her plan was to fight him, and gain his respect. No matter how difficult.
Hana trotted down the hallway, her rawhide leather boots sifting against the stone floors.
She searched for Fal, and finding him lying in his bedroom, staring at the celing.
He turned to her.
"...And what in God's name are you doing here?" He bluntly questioned.
Hana confidently smiled and replied "Looking for you, Fal. I want to ask you a question."
He rolled over and gave her a quizzical look.
"What?" He asked in apathy.
She had never realized it before, but Fal's frame was little like her's, at least when he laid down.
He was thin like her, but deadly unhealthy but steady. He had been like this before, Hana could tell from the lack of tiredness in his eyes.
"...How would you feel about swordfighting me?"
Fal expressed annoyance. "Not well. I wouldn't want to kill you." And with that, he eyed her appearance, and the sword by her side.
"What's that?" He asked.
Hana turned to her side. "Oh this?" She unsheathed the blade a tiny bit. It was fairly new, but slighly worn. Fal couldnt've told whether it was actually her's or not.
"It could be yours... through your heart." She subtly laughed and drew it out fully. It shone in the candle-light.
Fal gave little sign of impression.
"So are you going to fight me?" Hana sheathed her sword. "Yours is there, I notice."
She looked to his shelf. On its top was a very well-crafted scimitar in a lovely scabbard, just begging to be swung.
Fal rolled over again, mumbling. Seeing that there was no other way for her to draw him out, Hana quickly took her sword out of its hiding and pointed it toward Fal.
"If you don't fight me, I swear I'll tell ev'ry man woman and child that your name is 'Willy Riot'."
There was a pause, then Fal sighed. "That's blackmail, you know..."
"I don't care!" Hana pleaded. "Either that, or I'll call you 'Willy'. Better yet, I'll do both!"
There was a silence.
"WILLY!!" Hana shouted at the man on the bed.
He cringed.
Hana put her sword away once more. Then finally, Fal rolled to his feet off the bed and walked over to his shelf.
He picked up the sword on its top. "Fine."
"I don't understand him at all." Hana confessed to Marle. They were alone in her room, discussing late events.
"He's as cold as a long-dead beast in the far north, and about as untouchable as a double-edged sword with no hilt. How in the world do you expect me to warm up to a perpetually frowning and constantly disgusted animal?"
Marle knotted her eyebrows and gave a slight smile. "Well, I don't know..."
Hana shook her head vigorously.
"At least I'm getting paid for this. When's the next payday?"
"Um... Tomorrow, I think." Marle replied.
"Alright. We need a plan." Hana suggested. "Hrm."
Marle spoke up. "Well it said on your resume that you were a specialist of ne... neur..." She trailed off, looking for the right pronounciation.
"Neurological Study."
"Right. So... use that. Or something."
"Okay, so let's think of him as a puzzle. We just gotta' put it together right and get inside his head... What does he find attractive, anyway?"
Marle gave a look of obliviousness. "How should I know?"
They thought for a while, then Marle realized something.
"You know when you put his hand to your face?"
"Yeah."
"I don't think he found that very comfortable...!" And with that, Marle burst into a fit of giggling.
Strangely enough, Marle was right. She hardly knew this man, and with the whiff of a golden coin, his emotions could be played with to no avail. And although he played no part in this false cherub heart-striking, Lothair, Fal's closest family member, knew of this plan. He made no effort to end it, though, and this was on guilty cause of his curiosity of his brother's whereabouts these past years. He was as elusive as a snake, and kept his disposition well hidden under a veil of petrified disgust. A lover, it seemed, was impossible, but alas Lothair believed in the efforts put forward by his daughter and the perseverant Hana. She was beautiful, and her rough-cut personality may just be enough to let her enter William's dreary heart. In a way, Lothair was involved.
Certainly, he was.
More than he realized, it seemed, as he was the one fueling Hana's budget and discluding himself from the short hallways where they met. He felt guilty, but there was no harm in trying.
Hana's black hair flowed from her shoulder. She had mentally prepared to face Fal that day, and she had a sword at her side to accompany her. Being a freelance "Adventurer", she had training in many platforms of work, including swordfighting. Her plan was to fight him, and gain his respect. No matter how difficult.
Hana trotted down the hallway, her rawhide leather boots sifting against the stone floors.
She searched for Fal, and finding him lying in his bedroom, staring at the celing.
He turned to her.
"...And what in God's name are you doing here?" He bluntly questioned.
Hana confidently smiled and replied "Looking for you, Fal. I want to ask you a question."
He rolled over and gave her a quizzical look.
"What?" He asked in apathy.
She had never realized it before, but Fal's frame was little like her's, at least when he laid down.
He was thin like her, but deadly unhealthy but steady. He had been like this before, Hana could tell from the lack of tiredness in his eyes.
"...How would you feel about swordfighting me?"
Fal expressed annoyance. "Not well. I wouldn't want to kill you." And with that, he eyed her appearance, and the sword by her side.
"What's that?" He asked.
Hana turned to her side. "Oh this?" She unsheathed the blade a tiny bit. It was fairly new, but slighly worn. Fal couldnt've told whether it was actually her's or not.
"It could be yours... through your heart." She subtly laughed and drew it out fully. It shone in the candle-light.
Fal gave little sign of impression.
"So are you going to fight me?" Hana sheathed her sword. "Yours is there, I notice."
She looked to his shelf. On its top was a very well-crafted scimitar in a lovely scabbard, just begging to be swung.
Fal rolled over again, mumbling. Seeing that there was no other way for her to draw him out, Hana quickly took her sword out of its hiding and pointed it toward Fal.
"If you don't fight me, I swear I'll tell ev'ry man woman and child that your name is 'Willy Riot'."
There was a pause, then Fal sighed. "That's blackmail, you know..."
"I don't care!" Hana pleaded. "Either that, or I'll call you 'Willy'. Better yet, I'll do both!"
There was a silence.
"WILLY!!" Hana shouted at the man on the bed.
He cringed.
Hana put her sword away once more. Then finally, Fal rolled to his feet off the bed and walked over to his shelf.
He picked up the sword on its top. "Fine."