Curate, connect, and discover
₊。 ⊹˚∘˙○˚.∘ ˙○˚. ₊。 ⊹ 𓍼 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 ˚∘˙○˚。 ⊹˚∘ ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔
—-----𝕃𝑒𝑠 𝕕𝑒𝑢𝑥 𝕔ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑠…
“You.. You told him it wasn’t Dominique-sama’s fault? Wh-…” Jeanne’s eyes widened incredulously. It took a heart beat for reality to hit.
She made a tiny sound in the back of her throat, eyes fluttering as she looked to the side. Jeanne began to lose herself in reverie. “Kind… Yes, that's definitely Dominique-sama.”
S l o w l y , ...her gaze shifted back to Mikhail. Again, she studied him: 𝕍𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑠’ 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟. A sharp tongue. Cold, calculating, and complete with a touch of playful sarcasm laced between his words… This particular attitude seemed vaguely familiar. In fact, his entire essence shrouded in mystery. Still, Jeanne felt the haze of a candlelight, which was warm, 𝕒𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒, & yearning to be touched 。 ⠀ 。 ⠀ 。
“PFF—…… Alike…” she murmured, her voice soft as she smiled at the starlight haired boy, “You and your brother… are alike.”
𝙎𝙪𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙡𝙮—-- Her eyes narrowed. With attention, she stared at something behind Mikhail. From underneath the merry-go-round’s rubble, an older black cat and a younger white cat jumped out. The black one momentarily paused to look at Mikhail, regarding him with a blase expression.
“…Two cats.”
.˚ ̥
ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ.˚ ̥ ₊。 ⊹˚∘˙○. 𓂃 ࣪˖𐀔 ╰₊ ✧𓂂 ҉ㅤ ᴵ̷ ᶠ̷ᵒ̷ʳ̷ᵍ̷ᵒ̷ᵗ̷ ᴵ̷ ʷ̷ᵃ̷ˢ̷ ᵃ̷ …𝓓𝘰𝘭𝘭.
₊。 ⊹˚∘˙○˚.∘ ˙○˚. ₊。 ⊹ 𓍼 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 ˚∘˙○˚。 ⊹˚∘ ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔
—-----𝕃𝑒 𝕄𝑎𝑛è𝑔𝑒…
“I need your word that you will no longer do any harm to Dominique-sama. Nor Noe..” Jeanne started, voice echoing with a rising bellow, “…Nor Vanitas!”
Her sharp teeth gnashed, eyes reflecting 𝓓awn’s 𝓡ed 𝓢un. Eventide’s cold air kissed her skin through her clothes, but her blood boiled way too hot. Too hot, in fact, that blood did climb up her face, warming the apples of her cheeks 。 ⠀ 。 ⠀ 。
She stared him down. Studied him. Vanitas’ little brother. Injured. Damaged—-- like the merry-go-round behind him and its paint-peeled horses laying together in heaps, mouths left open as if they choked on their own screams. Definitely a member of the ʙʟᴜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴ ᴋɪɴ; he held those same spellbinding blue eyes. Yet with wispy hair & lily white skin glowing against the night, if not a child of the moon, he resembled 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.
As the notorious Bourreau, she knew: Culprits always return to the scene of the crime…
.˚ ̥
ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ.˚ ̥
₊。 ⊹˚∘˙○. 𓂃 ࣪˖𐀔 ╰₊ ✧𓂂 ҉ㅤ ᴵ̷ ᶠ̷ᵒ̷ʳ̷ᵍ̷ᵒ̷ᵗ̷ ᴵ̷ ʷ̷ᵃ̷ˢ̷ ᵃ̷ …𝓓𝘰𝘭𝘭.