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Description

for event 2, prompt 3. alternatively titled: sadlliot and chadlliot

painting hard words hard

[1270 words]

---

To say Elliot is shaken by the events at Danse Vanitas is an understatement. On paper, everything seemed pretty standard at first—or as standard as it could be when dealing with a cult, angels, and a cryptid dog he was more than mildly afraid of. The combination of a setting he was acquainted with and humans he could potentially persuade made the mission feel more doable in general than the Sunderlands mission. Go in, get the artifact, get out.

And then he starts interacting with the targets. Bazinet is like some of the partners at his law firm, Fenise like a cult firebrand, but Quincy doesn’t seem to fit amongst the questionable cast. Despite their numerous shortcomings and incessant need to call him an old man, Elliot sees hints of his younger self in the Dupont heir: blunt, friendless, trying to right their past wrongs. And while they were a key player into getting into the auction, perhaps their similarities are why he was driven to do what he could to protect the heir, including casting his leitmotif in an attempt to force Quincy to not head into danger's way.

He later realizes it's the very same overprotectiveness that had helped turn them into a stigmatic. He knows that if he were in Quincy's shoes, he would have done the same thing—danger be damned—and how can he fault them for doing so? From the way they spoke about her and from how Lefleur acted, she seemed like the one of the only individuals who made them feel like they belonged.

But because of him and the others, Quincy is more entrenched in the Maestro’s affairs than ever, and not out of their own volition. It is one issue to willingly pact with a demon. It is another issue to receive powers one didn’t want, visions one couldn’t shut out, and unforeseen consequences galore.

No amount of money or condolences can mitigate or resolve such a fate, and Adelram and Pere Noel’s words continuously resonate in his mind.

Why did you turn them into a stigmatic?

You are interested in helping such a weak soul? The last stigmatic I knew died in terrible pain.

So yes, he’s interested. Duty-bound isn’t the right word, and he’s very well aware of the fine line between helping them stay alive and helping them just to assuage his own guilt. But sometimes, he thinks: Can he bear responsibility when Quincy dies because of their initial actions from that night?

He still hasn’t found an answer for that.

—

His brands only complicate matters. They glow bright and gold against his pale skin, and various Latin phrases make up each metallic band.

Non respexerunt. Do not look back.

Acta deos numquam mortalia fallunt. Moral actions never deceive the gods.

Imperio in imperium, imperio sine fine. An order within an order, an empire without end.

They’re clear references to the partnership name...rather, his portion of it. And combined with an inability to deceive, to even tell white lies without suffering for his deeds—the combination paints a picture that he’s not too fond of, never mind the amount of inconveniences and reparations he’s had to deal with through post-mission.

Once upon a time, he carried himself with these lofty ideals, but now—now he is merely reminded that he has fallen short by a long margin. He’s failed where it matters most, and he himself is a mockery of what he used to preach.

—

It slowly dawns on him that he should draft a will as well. He doesn’t know what truly cinches it for him, why it’s taken him this long, but he starts to recall those scraps of words, specks of fatalistic knowledge pried from willing hands.

Description

for event 2, prompt 3. alternatively titled: sadlliot and chadlliot

painting hard words hard

[1270 words]

---

To say Elliot is shaken by the events at Danse Vanitas is an understatement. On paper, everything seemed pretty standard at first—or as standard as it could be when dealing with a cult, angels, and a cryptid dog he was more than mildly afraid of. The combination of a setting he was acquainted with and humans he could potentially persuade made the mission feel more doable in general than the Sunderlands mission. Go in, get the artifact, get out.

And then he starts interacting with the targets. Bazinet is like some of the partners at his law firm, Fenise like a cult firebrand, but Quincy doesn’t seem to fit amongst the questionable cast. Despite their numerous shortcomings and incessant need to call him an old man, Elliot sees hints of his younger self in the Dupont heir: blunt, friendless, trying to right their past wrongs. And while they were a key player into getting into the auction, perhaps their similarities are why he was driven to do what he could to protect the heir, including casting his leitmotif in an attempt to force Quincy to not head into danger's way.

He later realizes it's the very same overprotectiveness that had helped turn them into a stigmatic. He knows that if he were in Quincy's shoes, he would have done the same thing—danger be damned—and how can he fault them for doing so? From the way they spoke about her and from how Lefleur acted, she seemed like the one of the only individuals who made them feel like they belonged.

But because of him and the others, Quincy is more entrenched in the Maestro’s affairs than ever, and not out of their own volition. It is one issue to willingly pact with a demon. It is another issue to receive powers one didn’t want, visions one couldn’t shut out, and unforeseen consequences galore.

No amount of money or condolences can mitigate or resolve such a fate, and Adelram and Pere Noel’s words continuously resonate in his mind.

Why did you turn them into a stigmatic?

You are interested in helping such a weak soul? The last stigmatic I knew died in terrible pain.

So yes, he’s interested. Duty-bound isn’t the right word, and he’s very well aware of the fine line between helping them stay alive and helping them just to assuage his own guilt. But sometimes, he thinks: Can he bear responsibility when Quincy dies because of their initial actions from that night?

He still hasn’t found an answer for that.

—

His brands only complicate matters. They glow bright and gold against his pale skin, and various Latin phrases make up each metallic band.

Non respexerunt. Do not look back.

Acta deos numquam mortalia fallunt. Moral actions never deceive the gods.

Imperio in imperium, imperio sine fine. An order within an order, an empire without end.

They’re clear references to the partnership name...rather, his portion of it. And combined with an inability to deceive, to even tell white lies without suffering for his deeds—the combination paints a picture that he’s not too fond of, never mind the amount of inconveniences and reparations he’s had to deal with through post-mission.

Once upon a time, he carried himself with these lofty ideals, but now—now he is merely reminded that he has fallen short by a long margin. He’s failed where it matters most, and he himself is a mockery of what he used to preach.

—

It slowly dawns on him that he should draft a will as well. He doesn’t know what truly cinches it for him, why it’s taken him this long, but he starts to recall those scraps of words, specks of fatalistic knowledge pried from willing hands.