paradisalogs | Oh, but how were we to know?

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Oh, but how were we to know?

Who: Joshua and Lucrezia
What: to carnage or not to carnage; that is the question
When: after Lloyd's departure
Where: the creepy mansion
Rating: ~~adults beware, children welcome~~ let's say PG-13!

The letter came bearing the name Lloyd Irving; easy enough to recognize when he was the only man to have crafted for her the first real set of pearls in Paradisa. There is still a difference between objects that appear out of thin air and those that take hard work and care to pound and carve into shape. The latter has value, albeit mostly sentimental, while the former has none whatsoever. To think he would send a letter to Joshua, most curious.

Lucrezia must make an incongruous sight with the lavish pearls now about her neck, with her bare feet and otherwise plain white nightgown (never mind that it's already late in the morning), like a child playing dress-up with her mother's jewelry. At least her hair is loosely coiled down her back, if only to show the earrings more clearly and make her quiet enough to sneak up on Joshua, as if that's even possible. She needs only to follow the music to its source, the sound of the piano echoing through all the hallways, holding her breath as she walks on tiptoes behind him.

She thinks he must already notice her presence even before she stepped into the room, but it is fun to pretend. Sometimes he might be distracted enough that he might be genuinely surprised, or perhaps he would pretend for her. She moves to tickle his sides even as she wraps her arms about his waist, giggling in his ear in lieu of a hello.

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Joshua may not be summoning his power while playing as he would have if things had continued their way back home, but it's still a serene space, the music playing out of sentiment rather than practice. He thinks of her every day, no matter how good he often is at distracting or deluding himself.

Lucrezia's sudden presence isn't an interruption, but a welcome comfort, as family was family.

"Did you win another Queen's crown?"

Not turning, he just reaches back to lightly brush his fingers over her cheek, already having felt the earrings at her proximity, but there's no reason they would spark his attention.

If there was a time when she would be too frightened to even approach him, now that seems unthinkable. He doesn't make it easy, she thinks, to show that monsters are not so different from the rest of them. But why must they stoop for their sakes?

"Perhaps, with more lustre."

Lucrezia reaches for his hand to brush her lips against his fingers before letting him go, but only so she can fish out the letter from her pocket. She waves it about like a bait as she twirls away. "And you have an invitation to a ball. Perhaps a princess seeking a prince?"

Stepping away from the piano, Joshua watches her dance about like she has some great secret. At least in this he can view what has her so excited, only because they're the only fancy things she's wearing. Earrings and a necklace, hm... Pearls, of course.

"Hm, really? And here I was just talking to Spike about requiring several women around. Since it looks like you already found another prince, I should start looking."

He'll make a grab for it, but it's half-hearted.

Oh, but she always has a great secret!

"Do you not mean king?" Robb may yet be her latest favorite, though his sister is rather frightening.

Lucrezia pushes her hair back along and fiddles with the earrings to have them swing about, stopping just out of his reach, unless he were to make greater effort and lean away from his seat. But she flips the letter to show him the Lloyd's name printed on one side, tilting her head in question but smirking as if she already knows the answer.

"I am fond of this princess; her scribe crafts such lovely pearls."

"They're all the same to me." In the matter of kings and princes, at least, and their lack of real importance. But it's fun to play pretend sometimes; and sometimes he just wants to see.

So he actually makes strides after her, finally pulling the letter free from her fingers so he can look at the name once more like he expects the letters to merge into something different.

"Those are from Irving?"

Isn't that cute, she's charmed just about everyone now. Wondering if Lloyd is simply yearning for a Colette replacement, the thought doesn't last long once Joshua actually begins to read, expression unchanging as he continues to follow the words.

At least they are agreed on that. Titles come to nothing when kings are made and unmade with only a signature by her father's hand. Power is power and it cares not for crowns.

"Lloyd. It is uncanny to call a friend by his family's name, hm?"

Lucrezia lets him take the letter from her easily once he grabs for it, still hovering close so she can rest her hand against the bottom of his spine and tugging at his shirt to add to the disarray. She likes him that way, his pressed shirts under his fitted suit but slowly coming apart anyway, never quite keeping together. She doesn't try to read the letter, expecting him to decipher it for her soon enough.

"He's no friend of mine."

Not even by his joking standards, really. Though Joshua had never been anything but polite to Lloyd (read: barely), the teen had shown him nothing but unabashed rudeness. Towards the end Joshua had tried less and less, but he had in general tolerated the disrespect because of reasons he hasn't cared to dissect nor does he wish to. But it's inevitable he must think on the most likely reason, reminded by this unwelcome letter.

Most unwelcome.

The piece of paper is crumpled in his grip as soon as he's through reading this taunt, this last laugh by Lloyd Irving. That idiot that maybe wasn't as foolish as Joshua had first thought. As opposed to spending as little time as possible with him, maybe Joshua should have been spending more.

That secret weapon of theirs...again, he thinks, continuing to remain silent while he stares through eyes gone feral in the direction of his hand, though not exactly at it. His mind is most definitely elsewhere, as if she isn't even there.

Lucrezia has seen worse reactions to messages (is there such a thing as good news?) but few so unexpected. There was nothing about Lloyd to suggest that his letters would contain any malice, even to one such as Joshua. She never did understand why so many agree so readily to shun him when they know nothing of him, perhaps they know nothing of how similar they are.

She holds her breath in the moments after he ruins the letter, shifting her gaze between his clenched hand and his face, as if either would help her decide what to do next. She steps in front of him and reaches for both his wrists instead, hoping it would help him see her or at least remember she is there. Sometimes it's hard to know whether he does. But she also tries a smile and a jest. They can always pretend, right?

"Did he say you must wear red for the occasion?"

"There will be no chance for that," he response, tone dipping as if in regret for such. This is a situation where he'd like to see some blood, for certain.

And then there's just a flicker of disgust as the realization hits him once again, and he tosses the paper to the floor like the trash it is before brushing past her and walking over to the nearest window, expecting one of the nearby maids to hurry over and pick it up, though uncaring whether or not Lucrezia it. The maid only knows to burn his transactions, not like there are many.

He just needs to see the moon's not covered by clouds, that's all.

She will never be accustomed to being ignored. Even hatred is easier to wield than indifference, even if she knows neither of them are at fault. It is something else, a common enemy, and so everything will be alright once they overcome it. Lloyd Irving then.

One of the maids have hurried over to pick up the letter, only to have Lucrezia stop her so she can do it herself. Perhaps it is of more importance than even her pearls, which she now takes the time to unclasp so she can hand them carelessly to the servant. Jewels are plentiful. Now they only feel heavy, extraneous, and she fears they would only anger him more.

Only fools can say they are not frightened of Joshua and not lie. She does not think herself a fool, but she knows fear would only confuse him more, so she keeps many steps between them when she follows toward the window with the letter folded neatly in her hand. She smooths out the crinkles with her thumb and counts to the hundreds before speaking.

"Joshua."

He sounds irritated, though only mildly, at his thoughts being interrupted, paying at least enough attention to make such a sound. "Hm?"

Perhaps she shouldn't feel any anger but that is easier to say when her first response to being ignored is irritation. This shouldn't be about her. She unfolds the letter to read it for herself, noting that he can probably wait, if he would notice time passing at all.

"It is an empty threat from an absent man."

"It's not empty."

Joshua rests his arm against the windowpane, forehead pressed to the cool glass as he continues to gaze outside, waiting. At least he's speaking to her.

"They have a way."

At least he doesn't seem ready to lash out at her or anyone else. More pensive and (dare she say it?) more afraid. Lucrezia ventures the few steps closer to rest her hand on his arm so he doesn't drift too far away.

"A way to do what? What could they do to you?"

"Whatever they've done before...if I let them, which I won't. But this kind of message must mean someone else here knows, and now I don't know who."

He looks down to her hand, then back to the window.

"The first time they captured me to remove my horns, they had something. Something or some way so that one of them couldn't be stopped. Before he left, Father Nightroad spoke to me about something... Something that would change me; something they wanted my permission on. He said...something to lessen the noise, but I know what he really meant."

So much history she doesn't know, perhaps didn't want to lest it proves Stephanie right. But after all this time, hasn't he proven himself good? Every man is a murdered, the difference only lies in whether he would kill for her or for someone else.

Lucrezia moves to step between him and the window, even if her height can't obstruct his view of the sky should he choose to ignore her. "Your horns?" she reaches for his chin in an effort to have him look to her face. "What did they do to you, Joshua?"

They? They encompasses a lot of people, and at times like this Joshua has difficult discerning time, and whether or not this happened then, and who was where or when. It gets clouded, even if some things are crystal clear.

He glances down at the touch, but he's hardly seeing.

"For their own revenge over their women and Colette, which I would respect if they didn't call it heroism and charity instead, they took away my horns. I was my old self again, but worse."

Lucrezia thinks they only mean the rest of them, all those people who don't matter because they aren't family and so they are worth as little as chaff to her. If they are not for her then they are against her. She moves her hand to cup his cheek, wanting to search his eyes though she still comes up empty.

"Before Aion...?"

He's remembering, and also imagining. Future and past are in the same place right now, as he gazes at his sister but knows she isn't there.

"I don't know how long it was... It felt like forever. It was worse than the cage... Better. Worse." People were so forgiving, but now that only irritates him, as if he had something to be sorry for. Well, he had been the fool to apologize once he's calmed down from the loss.

"When they captured me, I tried to stop one, but they resisted. I know they couldn't before... They have something; someone does. And then Father Nightroad said they could lessen my noise. They have something, or a way. Now I have no way of finding out who has it... He would have made sure someone else has it."

Edited 2013-09-21 02:40 (UTC)

It was silly of her to ask Joshua of time, before and after. It would be simple had they known the enemy, even if it were all of them, then they could all disappear for all she cares. But hurting one without a good excuse may only cause them to rise against them in unison.

"Then we will find it, if it exists in truth," she places both hands against his face to help him see her, and not shadows. "They cannot hurt you now. They cannot call it valor if they harm me too."

At every moment she tries, it seems he attempts just as hard to look, to see. Both hands move to finally rest over hers, pulling them away from his face but not letting them go immediately, his thumb stroking over her knuckles.

"I don't need comfort." He lets go of her hands. "I need a partner." He's not Aion, and he's accepted that.

He can't brush her away so easily. Lucrezia moves to catch his hand when he lets go, holding tight so he would need to give more effort to drift away. She knows she can't be his partner if strength is what he seeks, but she also knows there are softer powers no less effective than brute force.

"I can be."

Joshua smiles again in response to that, and he reaches with his other hand to gently tweak her nose.

"You're forever tainted by being here at all...and they know. They'll never trust you enough to tell you about a weapon against me."

Lucrezia crinkles her nose at that and pouts. Somewhat indignant that he would tease when she means her offer most earnestly. But she still has his hand in hers, which she moves to place against her neck even as she smiles mischievously.

"They would still come in droves if I told them you hurt me. They would help me."

He squints at that, taking longer than necessary to respond. "The point is to keep them from hunting after my horns again."

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