Bradley looks exactly as he usually does, the suit and the jacket over his shoulders. A blue haired man stands before him, dressed warmly. "After that, Boss, about our upcoming preparations..."
Bradley looks at him, amused grin at his lips, "Hey, just call me Brad. We don’t have that kind of relationship anymore, right? You're like a buddy to me."
Immediately, the blue haired man is flustered. " I-I can't possibly do that. You’re the boss. I’m just your underling..."
Bradley strides across the space, looping an arm around his shoulders, "Don't be so distant now, Nero. I only got this far because of you. How many times do you think your advice saved me from a close call with death? I would have turned into stone a long time ago without you. Our enemies and allies both know that you're number two. Just call me Brad. Go on, try saying it."
Nero's shaking and red but slowly, "... Br... Brad......"
"Yeah. ...Ahaha! What are you getting embarrassed for!" He ruffles Nero's hair, voice full of warmth.
Nero pouts for a moment, but his face is bright red and he's smiling. "Shut up...
...I'm happy, Boss...... No...... Brad.
I’ll make sure I’m someone worthy of your acknowledgement — a man you won’t be ashamed to call your partner. You can count on it." ]
[Sieghart, who was curious, forgets all about the phone booth once the memory has run its course. It's such a sweet memory that he can't make light of it—not right away, anyway. At the same time, his shoulders feel heavy.]
. . . Hm. I think I've seen something I shouldn't have.
[After the dizzying arrival of the newcomers, Sieghart crosses Bradley's path. Before he can so much as utter a single word, however, a memory zooms into the scene:
It's nothing you haven't done before. You're sitting off to the side and watching Dio, the demon scion of the Moderates, because you have nothing better to do and the guy is as maddening as he is intriguing. He's too busy chatting with that demoness friend of his to notice that you're watching them.
Not even a handful of years ago, you wouldn't have imagined yourself allying with demons in any capacity. Having to tolerate Dio's presence is like running a marathon; you can't stand his sense of superiority and the fact that he's a demon, but you could do with worse companions. Despite all your bickering—if he's a cat, you're a dog—you've endured many a trial and tribulation together and entrusted your back to him more times than you'd like to count.
It's a paradox, is what it is.
Ley floats away after deciding that she's bothered Dio enough, and that's when your gazes lock. You make no move to turn away. Why would you? You're just looking.
"What? Why are you staring at me like that?" Dio sighs in exasperation. "Never mind. I don't want to waste energy on useless emotions."
You frown. "What? You want to start something?"
"What?" Does this idiot only know how to say that word? "Since when? Aren't you the one who's been staring me down?"
"No," you reply, smug, because he's wrong. "I've done no such thing. Isn't that just you and your inferiority complex? To a human, no less."
"Humans are an insignificant existence—and you are lower than them. How does a half-baked immortal monster like you still call yourself a human?"
Your hackles rise at his words. How dare he? Certainly, you're nothing more than a timeless monster that doesn't belong to any group. (Whose fault is that?) You won't deny that. But you shouldn't have to endure this from Dio of all people.
"I don't want to hear a demon call me a monster," you snap, at which Dio's eyes flash in the way they do when demons are enraged.
"Then let's drop this here. Aren't you the one who's trying to get the last word in?"
"You're assigning blame after insulting me? You think I'll just sit here and take it?" You consider drafting another letter of challenge to settle this ridiculous feud. Dio can try to pin you to the ground by your neck again, but you can always spring back up and beat some sense into him as you've done in your previous duels. The idiot. "To think you're their leader. The future of demons is dark."
"At least humans have done something right by not giving someone like you a position of power."
He's right on that front, but you snarl at him anyway.]
[The vibes here are amused as he slides over a paper:
That cat girl used to be a princess before she ran away from home. Her knight (blondie with the pony tail) fell in love with her and now they're on the run from the royal guard. They had a forbidden love because of class differences and shit. Cat was gonna get married to some other kingdom for political reasons, but now they're engaged.
[The more he reads, the slower he chews on the cracker in his mouth with confusion and amusement at once. But he has the manners to swallow before speaking.]
It feels nice, too, as he stands in the outdoor playground—just himself and his emotions, which are a mixture of concern, sadness, and anger with their prominence in that order—with his gaze directed outward. His expression when he turns to receive Bradley's company is the usual smile.]
[Sieghart is still indoors, if only to put away the cup that Byleth brought during their watch. It hasn't been long since the trial's conclusion, and his thoughts—a brewing storm of rage—signal his presence long before he can be spotted beyond the walls.
I'll kill it. I'll kill it. I'll cut it down. I'll tear it apart.
In person, he seems to be simply finishing off the tea with an apathetic expression.]
Week 2: Monday
Oh, I didn't expect to see you here.
[Then where, you ask? Who knows? Perhaps he didn't expect to see him at all.]
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[He's sitting next to some of the flowers, don't worry about it.
Also his rifle is here.]
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[And his sword is with him.]
Are you actually someone who enjoys flowers?
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Week 3: Monday
And Sieg will get a glimpse of memory.
Bradley looks exactly as he usually does, the suit and the jacket over his shoulders. A blue haired man stands before him, dressed warmly. "After that, Boss, about our upcoming preparations..."
Bradley looks at him, amused grin at his lips, "Hey, just call me Brad. We don’t have that kind of relationship anymore, right? You're like a buddy to me."
Immediately, the blue haired man is flustered. " I-I can't possibly do that. You’re the boss. I’m just your underling..."
Bradley strides across the space, looping an arm around his shoulders, "Don't be so distant now, Nero. I only got this far because of you. How many times do you think your advice saved me from a close call with death? I would have turned into stone a long time ago without you. Our enemies and allies both know that you're number two. Just call me Brad. Go on, try saying it."
Nero's shaking and red but slowly, "... Br... Brad......"
"Yeah. ...Ahaha! What are you getting embarrassed for!" He ruffles Nero's hair, voice full of warmth.
Nero pouts for a moment, but his face is bright red and he's smiling. "Shut up...
...I'm happy, Boss...... No...... Brad.
I’ll make sure I’m someone worthy of your acknowledgement — a man you won’t be ashamed to call your partner. You can count on it." ]
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. . . Hm. I think I've seen something I shouldn't have.
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Bradley is zero percent embarrassed by any of that. ]
So that's what this place is doing this week, huh?
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[They have hundreds of years' worth of memories, after all.]
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Week 3: Sunday
It's nothing you haven't done before. You're sitting off to the side and watching Dio, the demon scion of the Moderates, because you have nothing better to do and the guy is as maddening as he is intriguing. He's too busy chatting with that demoness friend of his to notice that you're watching them.
Not even a handful of years ago, you wouldn't have imagined yourself allying with demons in any capacity. Having to tolerate Dio's presence is like running a marathon; you can't stand his sense of superiority and the fact that he's a demon, but you could do with worse companions. Despite all your bickering—if he's a cat, you're a dog—you've endured many a trial and tribulation together and entrusted your back to him more times than you'd like to count.
It's a paradox, is what it is.
Ley floats away after deciding that she's bothered Dio enough, and that's when your gazes lock. You make no move to turn away. Why would you? You're just looking.
"What? Why are you staring at me like that?" Dio sighs in exasperation. "Never mind. I don't want to waste energy on useless emotions."
You frown. "What? You want to start something?"
"What?" Does this idiot only know how to say that word? "Since when? Aren't you the one who's been staring me down?"
"No," you reply, smug, because he's wrong. "I've done no such thing. Isn't that just you and your inferiority complex? To a human, no less."
"Humans are an insignificant existence—and you are lower than them. How does a half-baked immortal monster like you still call yourself a human?"
Your hackles rise at his words. How dare he? Certainly, you're nothing more than a timeless monster that doesn't belong to any group. (Whose fault is that?) You won't deny that. But you shouldn't have to endure this from Dio of all people.
"I don't want to hear a demon call me a monster," you snap, at which Dio's eyes flash in the way they do when demons are enraged.
"Then let's drop this here. Aren't you the one who's trying to get the last word in?"
"You're assigning blame after insulting me? You think I'll just sit here and take it?" You consider drafting another letter of challenge to settle this ridiculous feud. Dio can try to pin you to the ground by your neck again, but you can always spring back up and beat some sense into him as you've done in your previous duels. The idiot. "To think you're their leader. The future of demons is dark."
"At least humans have done something right by not giving someone like you a position of power."
He's right on that front, but you snarl at him anyway.]
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[His world does not have them, so he's more than a little confused.]
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What about them? . . . That's right. You said your dimension only has humans and wizards.
In short, they're immortal beings from the Demon World who care only about destruction.
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Are all the worlds... divided up like that? There a world for every type?
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Week 4: Thursday
That cat girl used to be a princess before she ran away from home. Her knight (blondie with the pony tail) fell in love with her and now they're on the run from the royal guard. They had a forbidden love because of class differences and shit. Cat was gonna get married to some other kingdom for political reasons, but now they're engaged.
There's only so much to do.
Anyway do you want to add more onto this.]
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Where's this coming from?
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Nowhere.
[Still very amused.]
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Week 4: Saturday
It feels nice, too, as he stands in the outdoor playground—just himself and his emotions, which are a mixture of concern, sadness, and anger with their prominence in that order—with his gaze directed outward. His expression when he turns to receive Bradley's company is the usual smile.]
Was it feeling stuffy for you, too?
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Frustration, heartbreak, anger are blaring away from him.]
Somethin' like that.
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. . . It's frustrating, not being able to do anything while we're here.
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Week 6: Saturday
I'll kill it. I'll kill it. I'll cut it down. I'll tear it apart.
In person, he seems to be simply finishing off the tea with an apathetic expression.]
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The story?
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Oh, was it aloud? I thought I was alone.]
How are the others doing?
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The kid from winter's gonna be fine... probably? So that's a plus.
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