What does your character think of the character a-

     "Ho ho ho, working hard or hardly working?" joked Jey as he walked into the cozy bakery. He gave a half-wave and made his way to the counter, observing the delicious looking treats for sale. "These all look fresh, and so good! I need to stop coming here or else I'll need to start getting new pants, ho ho!" 

     Jey hadn't been in this small town for long. He and several other law enforcers were called to help maintain things at the mayor's upcoming banquet. This place was quite nice, though. An island town filled with vibrant colors and comfortable weather? It was no wonder there were tourists everywhere, this may as well be Hawaii! He would have thought someone like Lockhart would have loved that. Lots of faces meant lots of customers, after all, and wouldn't it be great to grow a business because of that?

     Maybe it was the detective in him, though, but Jey never got the impression Lockhart was completely thrilled about this. In fact, he got that feeling from all the town regulars. This much tourism could be overwhelming, he supposed.

     "That looks new! I'd like to try if, if you please," he smiled while pointing at a nicely decorated cupcake. Thirteen dollars, though, yeesh. 

Oh, Sienna?

She was adorable. As patronizing as it was, that was Otto's first thought -- and his only thought. She was fiesty, a real go-getter despite her circumstances, the very resemblance of the sick children in a clinic he visited years ago, intending to console and educate them, and it was that memory, that likeness, that drew him closer. That, and... he felt like... he saw her in a dream long ago... hmmmmm... forget it. All the former was all there was to her, he felt, plus some embellishing -- she had that cute sassiness to her -- something that was always endearing --and her cooking was favorable to that of his own personal kitchen staff, albeit perhaps more for the novelty of it being a meal from someone new. There were even parts that reminded him of his eldest daughter. That... fidgetiness, her tendency to just burst. But she had that in a nicer way, too.

"You've certainly earned your place in that club of yours." he said, smiling, "Working at that other club though... dear, I don't know why you ever bother with a drunken crowd like that. You're far too good for the lot of them." As he spoke, he passed his plate onto her, only crumbs of whatever baked good she handed off to him remaining. "And kindest, too, to let me have a taste of your work."

The magistrate observed her again. Any intricacies, he couldn't pick up on them. Who -- what -- he saw was already mentioned: a pitiful girl, too childish for her own good and yet as sweet as the items she baked. For a moment, beholding her, his expression fell and his sympathy was obvious. Forget the psychological pain and depths. Surface level was comfortable territory. Even here... even here, could he not feel nothing? Rather, did he have to continue to force himself? ..Was he forcing himself? He wasn't sure.

"..I'm utterly useless in the kitchen, I'll admit." Otto sighed. "It's nice young women like you that do far better with it -- it's as natural as the sky being blue. Would you be so kind as to save me a piece of whatever you make next, dear?"

v en destroy his tomb do it

     Whenever En thought about Otto he felt several emotions starting with embarrassment-- Embarrassment for having thought he was ever a good person-- then guilt and anger. To the public he was a great, remarkable man; he was a hero. To the poor and frail he did everything he could to help them on their feet, that much was true even to the king when he was exiled. He remembered their first encounter, being given supplies for free and a helping hand. Back then En had thought Otto was a wholeheartedly good person, different from all the other nobles he'd encountered, so he could never understand why Noel hated the very mention of his name.

     Sometime after En had reclaimed his throne he learned about both Otto and Noel's death, hearing that Noel had been dubbed a criminal that assassinated him. It didn't line up with what he knew of that man. Noel was someone that wouldn't kill for money or fame, he did it to protect people. Slowly but surely, he was able to piece together enough information to understand.

     Otto had always been like every single noble. He was a man that looked out for himself even if it meant crushing others in order to maintain his image. Everything he did wasn't done out of kindness but with the idea of how he would be perceived. Corrupt and wicked to the core, it made En sick to know he'd be thought of as a hero while the true hero was left to rot like a lowly criminal. What sickened him even more was the fact that corruption was so thick with the upper class that even if his crimes were to be exposed he would most likely still be hailed a hero.

You can reply to him, his younger version, or his evil version!

(I was tempted to go with The Bride for this, but uh it feels more ironic this way :3c)

Hason rubs at his forehead tiredly, green eyes focused on the papers in his hand intently. So much to go through and less and less time between meetings make it difficult for him to have the time to spare for these smaller reports. having to resort to sifting through these on the way back to his home. With a careful gaze roving over the notes on the progress of the soldiers training, logistics regarding the knights and their shifts, and countless reports from the various jobs each had taken up. He'd have to read and file each, which was never something he never looked forward to.

Familiar handwriting catches his eye, and he stops flipping through the papers, pulling the offender to the front. It's his daughter's handwriting, carefully penned to recount her report of a recent assignment. A Bodyguard. Protection and so on.

Hason hums to himself, adjusting his grip so he can read the contents better. An assignment that he had no part in, so he knew little about the specifics aside from Illanya's reports. The older man was more familiar with Miss. Blacach the composer then he was with the composer who needed to be guarded. From what he knew, and had heard from the audience of some of her performances here, he couldn't help but admire her for it. Music was something that frequently perplexed him, the intricacies of such and what was possible on a stage difficult to grasp in its entirety. Yet he still loved it, whether it was the drunken caterwauling in a tavern or something as fine and gentle as melodies plucked on a harp. The latter was the preferred instance with the few performances he'd had the time to spare to go see being high among his favorites. 

For that alone his opinion of this visitor to Arlin was high, and from what he read of Illanya's past reports and of the one in her hands, she had been kind. Perhaps a bit distant if the notes were to be believed, but perhaps that was of less surprise to him. Fame and attention like that makes a certain amount of aloofness necessary, he supposes. It wasn't uncommon among those who held the public's attention, either, something he'd observed within the court. 

So engrossed in his thoughts the man doesn't even realize he has glanced up to check the hall until it is too late, his broad stature slamming into another poor soul and knocking them back. Papers go flying and Hason only pauses with a grunt, grimacing embarrassedly. It's only when he looks up from where the papers fell that he realizes the odd coincidence. Knocked back to the cool floor of the castle halls is Isolde. Immediately, Hason ignores the tossed papers and drops to a knee, holding out a hand. 

"Ah! I am terribly sorry, My lady. I wasn't watching, and nearly trampled you there. Are you alright? Do you need any assistance?"

     "It's the first time I've ever been in a teaching role," Ennette laughed lightly. The two sat on their knees in the garden with freshly mixed soil in front of them and plants besides them ready to be put in. Hason intimidated her, of course. He was not only a highly esteemed paladin and instructor for people like her who were new and inexperienced with fighting, but she was Illanya's father! At first she had been thankful to not have time to spend with him, but deep down she knew she couldn't hide from him forever. They needed to have a connection if she was to further win the paladin's heart.

     "I'm surprised you know so much about plants!" the princess commented while bringing a white rose bush in front of her. "Maybe you'll be able to help my father when I'm not able to. He's... Well, he's decent at gardening, but still needs help time-to-time," she laughed. This was fun, right? Laughing besides the father of someone she cared about deeply? He'd give her his blessing then, right? Oh goodness, was she so nervous.

     She decided to curb it with a question, "What would be your favorite flower?" She looked at the rest of the garden. "There are so many I love, I don't know if I could decide." A pause. Nervous eyes tried to focus on the dirt in front of her. "Er, what... what kind of flowers w-would, ah, Illanya like?"

v Omg it's Lachlan   Remembering En's visit b l e s s. Ennette's gonna get a crush the minute he BREATHES

( PicklePantry I just assumed if any sort of servant or guard accompanied her they wouldn't call her by her nickname or first name)

"Here you go, Sir". A young waiter set down a plate of peach tart in front of Lachlan as he was sitting in his favorite Cafe, enjoying the sunny weather and some chilled tea. He was by himself this time and had no intention to engage with anyone else, as he was noticing a young woman sitting down at a table close by. This was a famous spot for the noble and rich, so seeing a well dressed, beautiful woman was nothing out of the ordinary. Yet something about her caught his attention, he couldn't help but glance in her direction. Looking at her was like deja vu despite him knowing he had never met her before. Whatever it was, it felt exciting and wouldn't let go of his mind. She wasn't alone, which wasn't unusual for nobility of any kind, so Lachlan was able to pick up a name. "Litari". He knew that name. And now he saw the resemblance too. He had almost forgotten about his encounter with En but she must've been related to him. Judging from her young age... His daughter perhaps? Or a niece? The resemblance suggested daughter was more likely.. And maybe her father recommended this place to her? At least Lachlan liked to think so.

He simply couldn't resist, took another sip of his tea and stood up from his table to approach the other one. "Excuse my intrusion milady, I hope I'm not bothering you. My name is Lord Lachlan Holciona, at your service. I couldn't help but overhear a name that I happen to recognize. Litari, is that correct?". Lachlan showed commendable posture and looked at the young woman with a charming smile. Not only did he do his best to make a good impression, he also used the opportunity to get a closer look at Ennette. Just as beautiful as her father, Lachlan thought. And such a captivating voice. He had to admit, he might develop a crush on her if he wasn't careful.

(NP can also react to his normal/spider version)

Lachlan was clever, very clever. He carried himself off of charisma instead of fear. Chiono supposed that they found that impressive. He was quite sure his own kingdom only listened out of fear. Chiono could probably learn a thing or two from Lachlan. He was a self built man, after all. In a world with pre established leaders and order, that was always impressive.

That being said, there was plenty of things Chiono also disapproved of. For one thing, Chiono was sure that Lachlan played with the humans he ate. Although Chiono could be sadistic herself, she found manipulation to be a waste of time. It would be better for everyone involved to finish people off quickly. At least Lachlan's targets arguably deserved it.

With his track record though, Chiono couldn't help but wonder if they were on Lachlan's hit list. That idea made Chiono smile. Would the spider make a good fight, Chiono just had to know. Lachlan's targets usually went missing afterwards, but that wasn't going to stop Chiono for asking for a fight. 

"I don't care if I lose. I just want to have fun."

he hear the shop bells ring "oh we no-, oh it's you" his tone change after seeing Lucianna, and he walks closer to her "Tell that man, I'm not going back, not will do his order, and not doing his job" he sounds annoyed "if you her for the dessert, we haven't open yet" he explains

"tells him, not to go near my child and grandchild. if one of the get their hand on them. I won't hold back" he threatened her

"Jeffy, can you help me on the back?" a woman's voice can be heard from the kitchen

he turns his gaze to the kitchen "yes. Luna, give me a few seconds" Then he looks at Lucianna "I warn you, now leave" then he goes to the kitchen

---

"can I go for a few minutes, I have some manner on the back" he left them, but he didn't come back

        "..You're quite presumptive." Raphael spoke lazily to Jeff, "You're even quicker to anger, but I would say both traits go hand-in-hand. Just that part of you, it's obvious -- you're furious, almost all the time, and you're violent, almost all the time." To think of it all, Raphael seemed... displeased. He did not want to comment on Jeff's children, but he couldn't help but wonder how the lot of them ended up with a father like him. What a thought, coming from the general, but he minded himself so far. He was sure he would continue to do so.

       "Your kindness is conditional." he then added, "That much is obvious. It's how you talk to everyone else outside of your little bubble. But who could blame you, in a world like this? The people can be cruel, and you have to do all you can to protect yourself and your family."

       "At least you have your lady to keep you grounded. Hopefully." Raphael's gaze was colder, suddenly, and he leaned forward on his hand to study Jeff's expression, as if expecting it to change. Even then, his own frigidity did not change. He seemed... doubtful. Doubtful, and irritated. "Hopefully... she can stand to do so for as long as either of you live."

     Having to communicate with difficult people was a given in just about any line of work that dealt with speaking to others, and it got more common the higher paying the job. Ennette knew this well, yet she was never prepared for the brutal reality of it. One of those occasions was when she met with Raphael. It was meant to be only a small introductory meeting between the two, but she could tell at first glance it would not be a delightful meeting.

     Perhaps it was her own doubts giving her the idea, but it felt as though Raphael had given her a dismissive look the moment he saw her. He seemed almost disappointed at having to deal with her instead of her father, not out of missing out on meeting him, but that she wasn't as strong. She could see the judgement in his eyes, the lack of respect. What's worse, from her research, her music would only make things worse. 

     Truly, Raphael was a difficult man who made the princess self-conscious about herself, though she masked it with a somber expression. She hated this feeling of self-pity, knowing deep down that there wasn't logic to back it up, but still could not help but feel so foolish for not knowing how to handle this the best way possible. When she'd be alone and able to settle through these feelings weeks later, those doubtful feelings would turn into their own form of irritation, and she would hold no respect for him.

SCREAMS THAT WAS SOOOO GOOD

It's a fleeting thought, one that the undead doesn't really want to entertain during a time like this... not when En was relying on her to be steady, to be alert and prepared for the fight ahead. They would be facing gods and concepts incarnate after all. 

Even so, the memory of her hallucination, or rather dream of the young mystery princess had proved a sufficient distraction. Of someone, she must've once cared so terribly deeply for. It was hard for her still heart to bear the thought of what once had been gentle and warm fondness, reduced to nothing more than the hole its absence had left behind. It's the longing, and feeling of something she somehow knows she can never have that torments her. It's the one thing that she is becoming increasingly certain of. Even the doubtful odds of her regaining a living body were somehow more likely than her finding this nameless princess once more.

Every time Illanya looks at En, it somehow seems to confirm it's impossibility. She just can't seem to sort out why that is. She hasn't been able to shake off that feeling that somehow he plays a role in why it isn't possible. It's left her brooding in silence, throughout her travels with the assassin. Wondering if the gentle touches she imagined were only the lamenting imagination, or something more akin to memory. He isn't to blame, and neither is the princess from her hallucinations.

She almost wishes they were to blame. It would be easier to be able to focus on the mixture of emotions brewing beneath the surface if she had something to be angry at. Longing could always become resentment, after all. The thought had never come to full fruition as shame had snuffed it out every time. 

Despite it all, some part of her still wanted to be worthy of that hallucination of a princess's love. It was grasping for something that was barely there, distracting her from the dangers ahead. Illanya can only hope that her unnatural strength and durability would make up for her slightly more fragile mental state.

It never does.