Ask Konstantyn "The Fox" McNair

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

Feeling sick as she walked up to the door, Nat lightly lifted her hand to the wood to knock. Was right now the best time to bring this up? Maybe she should just run to her room and lock up, like she had been doing the last few weeks. But that was no way to live. Nat shifted in front of the door, pulling at some of her hair as she waited for Vito to answer. She needed to talk to him, if anything. She missed him too much to wait any longer.

The darkness in the room matched the mood worn on Vito’s face, contour, full of hidden secrets that would not be revealed until the light shed onto it. The man seldom took to brooding these days, not with Natalia about, showing him the brighter side life held beyond the lonely years he spent drifting through belfries and through darkened backstreets. When the knock comes at the door, he stirs, looking toward it for a good while, as though it might spring to life and put him down as the Military Police had done to many others before—almost did to Natalia. Had he not been there…

Sometimes the thought lingers on his shoulders, like Altus, carrying the world’s weight on his shoulders, seeing what first will give, his strength and tenacity or everything else. With Natalia, they were like boats passing in the night, able to do little more than cast a light to let the other know they’re there and drift away. Slowly Vito comes to a stand, approaching the door with tentative steps guiding him forward, his hand resting and the flat, cool, heavy wood that made up the door. Even slower, he slides it open, peering out, a yellow slit framing his eye and the tangled brush he called hair lately and the downward tug on his lips. He attempts to feign a smile. It doesn’t last.

"Yes, Nattia?" -

[natalia-holzman]

  Nat shook her head, reaching out to take his hands. “Vito, I’ve always trusted you to make the right decisions…to keep me safe. Everything that you did, I never once lost faith. What happened back there…that was all out of your hands. You could not control what was going on. You only reacted naturally….” Her gaze fell once more, now feeling like she was only trying to create excuses for him. But she knew that he had a dark side, unpredictable to either one of them. So was she really okay with knowing it? Knowing what could’ve happened instead?…

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

Vito leaned, a sort of folded wrinkle in his brow, the kind characterized by doubt, an alarm raising to insincerity in a sincere voice, searching for a trick as an audience might in the curtains awash behind the hand waving magician, tipping his hat and pulling back his sleeves. It was in Natalia’s grip, the tracks that made the roads in her palm, both warm, lingering there, trying to be comforting, bringing with it a slight hopeful flame that darted in and out of Vito’s thoughts like blood through his veins, running faster through his ears, making it all the harder to hear. “I did what I felt I must, but I am not sure if it was good enough, and as much as you have always trusted me, I am not so sure that it is the same as ehm, I am not sure how to describe it. Trust is one thing, fear is another. Even children beaten by their father will trust them to put food before them. I am not sure if that makes any sense.” A time whiles by, slipping casually, uncaringly, it is a creature of indifference and does not feel the static building and receding as Vito returns the slight grip, studying the smaller shape Natalia’s hand makes in his. “I am thinking that perhaps it was not wise of me to overstay my welcome here as long as I have.”

[natalia-holzman]

Everything seemed to grow a little darker around her, like the light inside of her was being blocked. She trembled as his words sunk in deep like a lead weight in water. Overstaying his welcome….what did he mean like that. Was he….considering leaving? The thought made her heart race. No…no…. Nat yanked her hands away from his, her eyes wide as she stared wildly at him. “No. You’ve done good enough…you’ve done so good protecting the two of us. Without you, I wouldn’t be alive…” Her brows knitted, such a lost expression on her face. “Whatever it is I’m supposed to be feeling doesn’t change the fact that I can’t live without you.” Nat continued to tremble, her tears finally showing. “I don’t want you to leave….I don’t want to be left alone again….Not again….”

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

Despite the heat rising up his neck and flitting into his face, Vito attempts to stand by his point firmly, throat clearing out with a needed, 'ahem,' and eyes narrowing underneath his lowering brow. That lead weight hit his stomach as well, unexpectedly like a dull, stabbing shock that resonated through him as phantom pains that left their scars on his body over the years past, not always showing on the surface where clothing could easily conceal them, "I realize that I have helped you in the past, but now, I am not sure continuing to stay here will do you any good or if it will put you in more danger. It will take some, ehm, getting used to, but I think this will be for the better for the both of us. I am sure the Military Police will not sit quietly knowing several of their men have been killed in such a way, searches will follow and I cannot be here for that nor can I be allowed to ehm, implicate you."

  Vito curls his hands, the warmth of Natalia's own leaving them cold as he withdrawals, laying them against his lap as he straightens up, staring down his nose as a parent might as their child shrinks down with the weight of each word spoken until they're nothing more than a little ball. "I am sorry, but I think this is for the better."

natalia-holzman

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

Feeling sick as she walked up to the door, Nat lightly lifted her hand to the wood to knock. Was right now the best time to bring this up? Maybe she should just run to her room and lock up, like she had been doing the last few weeks. But that was no way to live. Nat shifted in front of the door, pulling at some of her hair as she waited for Vito to answer. She needed to talk to him, if anything. She missed him too much to wait any longer.

The darkness in the room matched the mood worn on Vito’s face, contour, full of hidden secrets that would not be revealed until the light shed onto it. The man seldom took to brooding these days, not with Natalia about, showing him the brighter side life held beyond the lonely years he spent drifting through belfries and through darkened backstreets. When the knock comes at the door, he stirs, looking toward it for a good while, as though it might spring to life and put him down as the Military Police had done to many others before—almost did to Natalia. Had he not been there…

Sometimes the thought lingers on his shoulders, like Altus, carrying the world’s weight on his shoulders, seeing what first will give, his strength and tenacity or everything else. With Natalia, they were like boats passing in the night, able to do little more than cast a light to let the other know they’re there and drift away. Slowly Vito comes to a stand, approaching the door with tentative steps guiding him forward, his hand resting and the flat, cool, heavy wood that made up the door. Even slower, he slides it open, peering out, a yellow slit framing his eye and the tangled brush he called hair lately and the downward tug on his lips. He attempts to feign a smile. It doesn’t last.

"Yes, Nattia?" -

[natalia-holzman]

  Nat shook her head, reaching out to take his hands. “Vito, I’ve always trusted you to make the right decisions…to keep me safe. Everything that you did, I never once lost faith. What happened back there…that was all out of your hands. You could not control what was going on. You only reacted naturally….” Her gaze fell once more, now feeling like she was only trying to create excuses for him. But she knew that he had a dark side, unpredictable to either one of them. So was she really okay with knowing it? Knowing what could’ve happened instead?…

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

Vito leaned, a sort of folded wrinkle in his brow, the kind characterized by doubt, an alarm raising to insincerity in a sincere voice, searching for a trick as an audience might in the curtains awash behind the hand waving magician, tipping his hat and pulling back his sleeves. It was in Natalia's grip, the tracks that made the roads in her palm, both warm, lingering there, trying to be comforting, bringing with it a slight hopeful flame that darted in and out of Vito's thoughts like blood through his veins, running faster through his ears, making it all the harder to hear. "I did what I felt I must, but I am not sure if it was good enough, and as much as you have always trusted me, I am not so sure that it is the same as ehm, I am not sure how to describe it. Trust is one thing, fear is another. Even children beaten by their father will trust them to put food before them. I am not sure if that makes any sense." A time whiles by, slipping casually, uncaringly, it is a creature of indifference and does not feel the static building and receding as Vito returns the slight grip, studying the smaller shape Natalia's hand makes in his. "I am thinking that perhaps it was not wise of me to overstay my welcome here as long as I have."

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

Feeling sick as she walked up to the door, Nat lightly lifted her hand to the wood to knock. Was right now the best time to bring this up? Maybe she should just run to her room and lock up, like she had been doing the last few weeks. But that was no way to live. Nat shifted in front of the door, pulling at some of her hair as she waited for Vito to answer. She needed to talk to him, if anything. She missed him too much to wait any longer.

The darkness in the room matched the mood worn on Vito’s face, contour, full of hidden secrets that would not be revealed until the light shed onto it. The man seldom took to brooding these days, not with Natalia about, showing him the brighter side life held beyond the lonely years he spent drifting through belfries and through darkened backstreets. When the knock comes at the door, he stirs, looking toward it for a good while, as though it might spring to life and put him down as the Military Police had done to many others before—almost did to Natalia. Had he not been there…

Sometimes the thought lingers on his shoulders, like Altus, carrying the world’s weight on his shoulders, seeing what first will give, his strength and tenacity or everything else. With Natalia, they were like boats passing in the night, able to do little more than cast a light to let the other know they’re there and drift away. Slowly Vito comes to a stand, approaching the door with tentative steps guiding him forward, his hand resting and the flat, cool, heavy wood that made up the door. Even slower, he slides it open, peering out, a yellow slit framing his eye and the tangled brush he called hair lately and the downward tug on his lips. He attempts to feign a smile. It doesn’t last.

"Yes, Nattia?" -

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

-

For a while, Vito sits there, searching for something to say, a similar thought pattern going through his skull, even it it isn’t evident in the shift and pull of his features. What would he say to his own father if they’d sat down like this but the same words, ‘I’m sorry,’ slipping between his lips in their shared native tongue. So much time had passed that it most certainly wouldn’t heal the wounds that he’d already put there, in retrospect, perhaps leaving had been what killed his mother in the long run, losing both a son and the only one other thing his heart cared for must have cut him deeply. 

No, in fact, how deep the wound really was lie perfectly out in the open for Vito whenever he grew nostalgic enough to head back home for the night, even if it was at a distance. His father, more often than not would forget to tidy, forget to do the things he used to do and sit for a long while in the chair that belonged to wife and then in the bedroom that belonged to his son. All this he did in silence, carrying the burden without bothering to share it, lest he crumble and show weakness that he nor Vito could afford to show. 

Here and now he sat with her, mulling what face to show, should it be strength or indifference, the face of his father, which grew stony and callous over the years. Vito shakes his head, pushes back his hair, and looks to the flame, the light dancing in his blue eyes and then to Natalia, watching the same orange fire in her’s. “You have nothing to be sorry for Nattia. I did not want you to know about that life, not any more than I thought you should. I understand if you have… hm, regret for it.” 

[natalia-holzman]

There was that word she hated so much. Regret. So long had it plagued her, from when she was just a child in her mother’s arms to now. Did she regret not appreciating her mother more before losing her? Did she regret what little time she had with her father hating him? Did she regret leaving everything she ever knew behind for the military? Did she regret falling in love with Konstantyn and Leroux?…and Herbert…. Nat felt her world shattering just a little more, like the already broken pieces were being crushed into dust with a boot. 

Natalia’s eyes wavered from Vito’s face to her hands and back. “Do I…regret finding that out about you?….” She moved her hand to reach out to him but stopped. That wouldn’t be right of her… “I don’t regret that…It…may have scared me…but to know that’s a part of you…I think it’s better to know both sides of the coin.”

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

The bed creaks under Vito as he shifts, unable to meet Natalia's eyes fully, the long wooden floors stretch out before him, making the world about him feel all that much larger and smaller all at once, where they were trapped inside walls meant to protect them and keep them in a community that at times could thrive and others showed its ugly more often than not. "I am not so sure myself if it is. What you saw back there, what I had to do to keep you safe. I sat there and risked your life through what I said. The man, he was full of pride, very much so, I felt that he would have took the route that would have meant living, but what if I had not been right? There had been just as much chance, how can you be okay with that and think it is better to know?" 

[dragonriboosart]

You know I had to :V

'mish info

[stormycloudcrossing]

Reblogging this over here :V I have a pokemon blog as well you guys :3/

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

Her heart slammed against her chest as she wandered through the halls of the hospital. She had been avoiding it but hearing that Kon had been admitted for some time now, she couldn't stay away. How could she not know he was there? Was she really so absorbed in herself that she would overlook a friend? Finding his room, she lightly knocked before entering. "Kon?..." Her voice trembled, full of fear and worry.

After some time in the hospital, Konstantyn has recuperated to more of a manageable state where he could get up and do his own thing and not have the nurses on his tail at a constant. Even Franziska showed improvement along with his progress, though still at times, when she thought he hadn’t been gazing her direction, still held a melancholic stare that told a tale all its very own. As much as Konstantyn wanted to help her along and be there, sometimes reality had different plans in mind.

Once Natalia arrives at his room, he perks up right away, showing signs of his former energy and attitude. Yet the way Natalia carries herself stops him entirely in his tracks (Or from sitting up as fully as he attempted to). Leaning forward, Konstantyn settles his elbows onto his knees, studying Natalia carefully as she enters. “Aye, pretty sure I’m still me, Natty. You alright? Look a bit wilted around the edges there. Something happen at training?” If only Konstantyn knew about Vito, the torment Natalia had to endure for the crime of knowing the man. Information he couldn’t fathom, not on his own any way. With Natalia’s past there were only a few likely outcomes that sprung to Konstantyn’s mind. Some secret double life certainly hadn’t been one of them. 

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

"Gone?" The word lingers in the air along with the image it spins. Tiny Natalia running, clad in her gear, the last straw thrown as she exacted retribution on all that dare lay a hand on her. No… no, that could never be Natalia. The way she shivered and cried told an entirely different story. That the young woman seating her forehead against Konstantyn’s collar could never commit such heinous crimes, not even in a heated, passionate moment. If one thing showed as a constant in Natalia, that had been the fact she could never harm others so easily, even if they tore her apart in every meaning that the word carried.

"What happened?" Slowly, the Scout holds Natalia at arm’s distance, looking at her, searching for a truth all its own. The truth held her on edge, provoked more tears to run free down her eyes, over her cheeks and dripping down her chin. A few times Konstantyn lifts his hand to clear them away, frowning and shushing her, "How’d they die? Were you there?" 

[natalia-holzman]

Her golden eyes were wide as she stared at him, clear windows into her feelings. Fear, sorrow, every kind of weakness. Because he could see that, she wasn’t sure how to lie to him. Even if it was Kon, she wasn’t going to tell him about Vito. She swore she would never… “I…I can’t…I can’t say….” She sniffed, more tears coming forward. “I just can’t…”

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

Konstantyn studies Natalia for a time, trying to pry out the truth with looks and looks alone. That tiny frame gives nothing, nothing that’ll wrap up the questions Konstantyn put to ear in a neat, trimmed bow. Times like this the fields and perfectly cut gardens in Sina were all too appealing, simplistic, blissful and ignorant, just as Konstantyn’s father would have willed be done. 

In the end, the hard life proved to be the only life Konstantyn could endure and wind up proud at the day’s end, anything else seemed like a fantasy that would inevitably end and come crushing down on everyone’s head and they would not ever see it coming. Not if their rulers had their say about it. “Nat,” Konstantyn audibly swallows, “At least tell me that your life isn’t still in danger, that I can trust when you leave here you’ll be able to come back for another visit.” 

[natalia-holzman]

Rubbing at her eyes, she tried to get rid of those damn tears. She didn’t want them, she was tired of them….so tired of crying…all of that pain and sadness….Looking back up at Konstantyn, Natalia sucked in the last of her tears with a deep breath. “I’m not in danger….I can promise you that….” She attempts a smile for him, shaking slightly though. It was almost a strain to show happiness…

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

The older scout draws back slowly, eyes fixated on Natalia, working out if belief should follow so quickly. Eventually it does settle into Kon's shoulders, pushing them down, making it a bit easier to breath and stare out into the room without expecting it to come crumbling down around them with the shadows of men grabbing to drag Natalia down the hall kicking and screaming by the hair, with Konstantyn left behind, able to do nothing about it

Konstantyn could have stood it being much longer than this that he felt this way. Back then when his father stood by, knowing full well in his heart what he witnessed was wrong, yet making the active choice not to do anything. Having that choice stripped away, just hurt, and feeling an iota like that man tugged at Konstantyn's heartstrings painfully. "Alright,"Konstantyn intakes a long, hearty breath, "Alright," He parrots himself, trying to convince his protective hackles to settle down. "Better not hear otherwise, alright lass?"

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

Feeling sick as she walked up to the door, Nat lightly lifted her hand to the wood to knock. Was right now the best time to bring this up? Maybe she should just run to her room and lock up, like she had been doing the last few weeks. But that was no way to live. Nat shifted in front of the door, pulling at some of her hair as she waited for Vito to answer. She needed to talk to him, if anything. She missed him too much to wait any longer.

The darkness in the room matched the mood worn on Vito’s face, contour, full of hidden secrets that would not be revealed until the light shed onto it. The man seldom took to brooding these days, not with Natalia about, showing him the brighter side life held beyond the lonely years he spent drifting through belfries and through darkened backstreets. When the knock comes at the door, he stirs, looking toward it for a good while, as though it might spring to life and put him down as the Military Police had done to many others before—almost did to Natalia. Had he not been there…

Sometimes the thought lingers on his shoulders, like Altus, carrying the world’s weight on his shoulders, seeing what first will give, his strength and tenacity or everything else. With Natalia, they were like boats passing in the night, able to do little more than cast a light to let the other know they’re there and drift away. Slowly Vito comes to a stand, approaching the door with tentative steps guiding him forward, his hand resting and the flat, cool, heavy wood that made up the door. Even slower, he slides it open, peering out, a yellow slit framing his eye and the tangled brush he called hair lately and the downward tug on his lips. He attempts to feign a smile. It doesn’t last.

"Yes, Nattia?" -

[natalia-holzman]

Only standing there for a few moments, she was already regretting knocking. What if he didn’t even want to talk to her? He had been avoid her as much as she had been avoiding him. There had to be a reason, right? Maybe…maybe this was how it had to be. Separated by more than a door….by the unspoken words between them….

Now worrying herself, Nat started to turn away when the door creaked open. Her eyes lit up, her heart giving a tug as she saw him. Yet again, she barely recognized Vito. This time it was because he was so disheveled…so worn like all of his years on the streets caught up to him in one night. She couldn’t help but feel like she was at fault for this. She made him feel this way….

Quickly she cleared her throat, trying to salvage what was left of the silence she had left between them. “I was…um…wondering if we could talk….I…I’ve missed you…”

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

For a while Vito just stands there, hovering near the door, the yellow light crawling across his face as he shifts and looks down briefly. Talking often proved dangerous these days, talking could kill men twenty times his own size and silence an entire community when the news came to light. At least for a while, anyway. Everyone from wall Maria had experienced loss, brushed with the grim reaper and managed to survive somehow by running faster than anyone else, by claiming their seat on the fairy by leaving all their belongings behind, the sentimentalists died and Vito rarely kept anything more on his back outside his clothing, weapons and memories from his youth that had since withered away. 

He takes a breath and disappears from view, the door drifting open into the dark room as he takes a few steps and lights the candle at his night stand, sitting it back down and waving the match out until the flame dies and smoke winds from the black tip, curling around Vito’s head like an twisted halo. As it disperses he walks back, finding a chair and bringing it out into the room, sitting it by the bed. In silence his palm turns out and waves over the chair, Vito’s eyes not quite meeting Natalia’s until the bed creeks and sinks under him, holding in place. 

[natalia-holzman]

Natalia watched Vito move about, too hesitant to enter the room just yet. Before, she wouldn’t have given it a second thought and just jumped on his bed with a smile. But now with how cool and stiff they were with each other…it just didn’t seem right. She hated this. She was tired of these silent nights and having to avoid him. That wasn’t who she was…

Granted, she thought about her situation with her father (at least how it was before she went to visit him) and knew that wasn’t true. She could be like that, it was a dark side of herself. The cold shoulder, the intense silence, the hatred… Nat didn’t want to be like that anymore, even if she was still a little scared.

When he was done moving about, Nat entered the room to take the seat beside Vito. She entwined her fingers together as she place her hands in her lap, staring down at them. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, almost unsure of how to start. There was so much unsaid between the two…. Nat looked up, taking in a deep breath. “Vito…I’m sorry…I’m so sorry.”

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

For a while, Vito sits there, searching for something to say, a similar thought pattern going through his skull, even it it isn't evident in the shift and pull of his features. What would he say to his own father if they'd sat down like this but the same words, 'I'm sorry,' slipping between his lips in their shared native tongue. So much time had passed that it most certainly wouldn't heal the wounds that he'd already put there, in retrospect, perhaps leaving had been what killed his mother in the long run, losing both a son and the only one other thing his heart cared for must have cut him deeply. 

No, in fact, how deep the wound really was lie perfectly out in the open for Vito whenever he grew nostalgic enough to head back home for the night, even if it was at a distance. His father, more often than not would forget to tidy, forget to do the things he used to do and sit for a long while in the chair that belonged to wife and then in the bedroom that belonged to his son. All this he did in silence, carrying the burden without bothering to share it, lest he crumble and show weakness that he nor Vito could afford to show. 

Here and now he sat with her, mulling what face to show, should it be strength or indifference, the face of his father, which grew stony and callous over the years. Vito shakes his head, pushes back his hair, and looks to the flame, the light dancing in his blue eyes and then to Natalia, watching the same orange fire in her's. "You have nothing to be sorry for Nattia. I did not want you to know about that life, not any more than I thought you should. I understand if you have... hm, regret for it." 

[natalia-holzman]

Going to the ball was really a bad idea. Natalia forced herself to smile most of the night, putting up a mask for all of her friends. They didn’t know any better, didn’t think that there could be anything wrong with her. A shared drink here, a few dances there and she had almost made it through the night without an incident. But as the music slowed and everyone paired off to dance, Nat could feel herself slipping. As hard as Romeo tried, he couldn’t keep her mind off of her pain.  Excusing herself, she escaped to the balcony for some air. Maybe if she just could get out a good cry, she could make it through the rest of the night… But as she paced the balcony, her eyes caught movement in the shadows. She most certainly didn’t expect Vito to appear before her, especially not when it was filled with military. Begging, she tried to get him to leave. Being there for a moment was not worth what could happen to him. But he insisted, at least for as long as a dance. Why was this happening now to her? All this distance between them and yet he came swooping in like some knight in shining armor at her lowest point, when she would need him the most. Why was he even bothering?  But as they lightly swayed to the distant music, her tears slowly began to stop and a smile returned to her face. And for once, it was a genuine one.

[natalia-holzman]

Finally finished it. Now excuse me while I lay down and cry over my heartbroken baby.

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

THISSSSSSSSSSSSS))

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

Took me long enough XD Here's Kon ready to take out his lass to the big bash ;3

Also doing commissions now, I'm a lot more active on my Pokemon blog over here :V

[dragonriboosart]

More fanart of a certain flame goat ‘u’

Thanks to yellowfur for designing this great Fakemon line up, the Kidling line is my favorite next to the Aquade line design wise for the starters, I would like to train both at some point, so I hope they figure out a way you can get all the starters within the same game Was just told, yeah, there’s gonna be a way >:D YES

'mish info

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

Just wanted to reblog this over here: I've been RPing Pokemon for quite a while over on a separate account. Thus my lack of activity over here, if you want to follow/interact through my Pokemon account feel free to follow the account I'm reblogging on .u.

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

Her heart slammed against her chest as she wandered through the halls of the hospital. She had been avoiding it but hearing that Kon had been admitted for some time now, she couldn't stay away. How could she not know he was there? Was she really so absorbed in herself that she would overlook a friend? Finding his room, she lightly knocked before entering. "Kon?..." Her voice trembled, full of fear and worry.

After some time in the hospital, Konstantyn has recuperated to more of a manageable state where he could get up and do his own thing and not have the nurses on his tail at a constant. Even Franziska showed improvement along with his progress, though still at times, when she thought he hadn’t been gazing her direction, still held a melancholic stare that told a tale all its very own. As much as Konstantyn wanted to help her along and be there, sometimes reality had different plans in mind.

Once Natalia arrives at his room, he perks up right away, showing signs of his former energy and attitude. Yet the way Natalia carries herself stops him entirely in his tracks (Or from sitting up as fully as he attempted to). Leaning forward, Konstantyn settles his elbows onto his knees, studying Natalia carefully as she enters. “Aye, pretty sure I’m still me, Natty. You alright? Look a bit wilted around the edges there. Something happen at training?” If only Konstantyn knew about Vito, the torment Natalia had to endure for the crime of knowing the man. Information he couldn’t fathom, not on his own any way. With Natalia’s past there were only a few likely outcomes that sprung to Konstantyn’s mind. Some secret double life certainly hadn’t been one of them. 

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

"Gone?" The word lingers in the air along with the image it spins. Tiny Natalia running, clad in her gear, the last straw thrown as she exacted retribution on all that dare lay a hand on her. No… no, that could never be Natalia. The way she shivered and cried told an entirely different story. That the young woman seating her forehead against Konstantyn’s collar could never commit such heinous crimes, not even in a heated, passionate moment. If one thing showed as a constant in Natalia, that had been the fact she could never harm others so easily, even if they tore her apart in every meaning that the word carried.

"What happened?" Slowly, the Scout holds Natalia at arm’s distance, looking at her, searching for a truth all its own. The truth held her on edge, provoked more tears to run free down her eyes, over her cheeks and dripping down her chin. A few times Konstantyn lifts his hand to clear them away, frowning and shushing her, "How’d they die? Were you there?" 

[natalia-holzman]

Her golden eyes were wide as she stared at him, clear windows into her feelings. Fear, sorrow, every kind of weakness. Because he could see that, she wasn’t sure how to lie to him. Even if it was Kon, she wasn’t going to tell him about Vito. She swore she would never… “I…I can’t…I can’t say….” She sniffed, more tears coming forward. “I just can’t…”

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

Konstantyn studies Natalia for a time, trying to pry out the truth with looks and looks alone. That tiny frame gives nothing, nothing that'll wrap up the questions Konstantyn put to ear in a neat, trimmed bow. Times like this the fields and perfectly cut gardens in Sina were all too appealing, simplistic, blissful and ignorant, just as Konstantyn's father would have willed be done. 

In the end, the hard life proved to be the only life Konstantyn could endure and wind up proud at the day's end, anything else seemed like a fantasy that would inevitably end and come crushing down on everyone's head and they would not ever see it coming. Not if their rulers had their say about it. "Nat," Konstantyn audibly swallows, "At least tell me that your life isn't still in danger, that I can trust when you leave here you'll be able to come back for another visit." 

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

Feeling sick as she walked up to the door, Nat lightly lifted her hand to the wood to knock. Was right now the best time to bring this up? Maybe she should just run to her room and lock up, like she had been doing the last few weeks. But that was no way to live. Nat shifted in front of the door, pulling at some of her hair as she waited for Vito to answer. She needed to talk to him, if anything. She missed him too much to wait any longer.

The darkness in the room matched the mood worn on Vito’s face, contour, full of hidden secrets that would not be revealed until the light shed onto it. The man seldom took to brooding these days, not with Natalia about, showing him the brighter side life held beyond the lonely years he spent drifting through belfries and through darkened backstreets. When the knock comes at the door, he stirs, looking toward it for a good while, as though it might spring to life and put him down as the Military Police had done to many others before—almost did to Natalia. Had he not been there…

Sometimes the thought lingers on his shoulders, like Altus, carrying the world’s weight on his shoulders, seeing what first will give, his strength and tenacity or everything else. With Natalia, they were like boats passing in the night, able to do little more than cast a light to let the other know they’re there and drift away. Slowly Vito comes to a stand, approaching the door with tentative steps guiding him forward, his hand resting and the flat, cool, heavy wood that made up the door. Even slower, he slides it open, peering out, a yellow slit framing his eye and the tangled brush he called hair lately and the downward tug on his lips. He attempts to feign a smile. It doesn’t last.

"Yes, Nattia?" -

[natalia-holzman]

Only standing there for a few moments, she was already regretting knocking. What if he didn’t even want to talk to her? He had been avoid her as much as she had been avoiding him. There had to be a reason, right? Maybe…maybe this was how it had to be. Separated by more than a door….by the unspoken words between them….

Now worrying herself, Nat started to turn away when the door creaked open. Her eyes lit up, her heart giving a tug as she saw him. Yet again, she barely recognized Vito. This time it was because he was so disheveled…so worn like all of his years on the streets caught up to him in one night. She couldn’t help but feel like she was at fault for this. She made him feel this way….

Quickly she cleared her throat, trying to salvage what was left of the silence she had left between them. “I was…um…wondering if we could talk….I…I’ve missed you…”

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

For a while Vito just stands there, hovering near the door, the yellow light crawling across his face as he shifts and looks down briefly. Talking often proved dangerous these days, talking could kill men twenty times his own size and silence an entire community when the news came to light. At least for a while, anyway. Everyone from wall Maria had experienced loss, brushed with the grim reaper and managed to survive somehow by running faster than anyone else, by claiming their seat on the fairy by leaving all their belongings behind, the sentimentalists died and Vito rarely kept anything more on his back outside his clothing, weapons and memories from his youth that had since withered away. 

He takes a breath and disappears from view, the door drifting open into the dark room as he takes a few steps and lights the candle at his night stand, sitting it back down and waving the match out until the flame dies and smoke winds from the black tip, curling around Vito's head like an twisted halo. As it disperses he walks back, finding a chair and bringing it out into the room, sitting it by the bed. In silence his palm turns out and waves over the chair, Vito's eyes not quite meeting Natalia's until the bed creeks and sinks under him, holding in place. 

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

Feeling sick as she walked up to the door, Nat lightly lifted her hand to the wood to knock. Was right now the best time to bring this up? Maybe she should just run to her room and lock up, like she had been doing the last few weeks. But that was no way to live. Nat shifted in front of the door, pulling at some of her hair as she waited for Vito to answer. She needed to talk to him, if anything. She missed him too much to wait any longer.

The darkness in the room matched the mood worn on Vito’s face, contour, full of hidden secrets that would not be revealed until the light shed onto it. The man seldom took to brooding these days, not with Natalia about, showing him the brighter side life held beyond the lonely years he spent drifting through belfries and through darkened backstreets. When the knock comes at the door, he stirs, looking toward it for a good while, as though it might spring to life and put him down as the Military Police had done to many others before—almost did to Natalia. Had he not been there…

Sometimes the thought lingers on his shoulders, like Altus, carrying the world’s weight on his shoulders, seeing what first will give, his strength and tenacity or everything else. With Natalia, they were like boats passing in the night, able to do little more than cast a light to let the other know they’re there and drift away. Slowly Vito comes to a stand, approaching the door with tentative steps guiding him forward, his hand resting and the flat, cool, heavy wood that made up the door. Even slower, he slides it open, peering out, a yellow slit framing his eye and the tangled brush he called hair lately and the downward tug on his lips. He attempts to feign a smile. It doesn’t last.

"Yes, Nattia?" -

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

Her heart slammed against her chest as she wandered through the halls of the hospital. She had been avoiding it but hearing that Kon had been admitted for some time now, she couldn't stay away. How could she not know he was there? Was she really so absorbed in herself that she would overlook a friend? Finding his room, she lightly knocked before entering. "Kon?..." Her voice trembled, full of fear and worry.

After some time in the hospital, Konstantyn has recuperated to more of a manageable state where he could get up and do his own thing and not have the nurses on his tail at a constant. Even Franziska showed improvement along with his progress, though still at times, when she thought he hadn’t been gazing her direction, still held a melancholic stare that told a tale all its very own. As much as Konstantyn wanted to help her along and be there, sometimes reality had different plans in mind.

Once Natalia arrives at his room, he perks up right away, showing signs of his former energy and attitude. Yet the way Natalia carries herself stops him entirely in his tracks (Or from sitting up as fully as he attempted to). Leaning forward, Konstantyn settles his elbows onto his knees, studying Natalia carefully as she enters. “Aye, pretty sure I’m still me, Natty. You alright? Look a bit wilted around the edges there. Something happen at training?” If only Konstantyn knew about Vito, the torment Natalia had to endure for the crime of knowing the man. Information he couldn’t fathom, not on his own any way. With Natalia’s past there were only a few likely outcomes that sprung to Konstantyn’s mind. Some secret double life certainly hadn’t been one of them. 

[natalia-holzman]

Her golden eyes were wide as she stared at him, clear windows into her feelings. Fear, sorrow, every kind of weakness. Because he could see that, she wasn’t sure how to lie to him. Even if it was Kon, she wasn’t going to tell him about Vito. She swore she would never… “I…I can’t…I can’t say….” She sniffed, more tears coming forward. “I just can’t…”

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

For a while longer Konstantyn watches the younger woman before him as she breaks apart into small pieces, reflective shards containing shadows from her former, happy go lucky self. As the months waged on, so too did the new recruits start to break down, whether it from the Titan's straining every day existence or the threats within the walls itself. Not knowing who to trust, and feeling alone for it, could do more damage than anything and it had been something Konstantyn himself neglected to acknowledge when it came to Franziska.

  Eyes darting downward, the Scout lets them fall half lidded for a time, then blinks away the thoughts darkening his brow, "Nat, this is important, did you do anything, anything at all that will follow you? Does anyone else know about this? Because if they do and what happened falls into the wrong ears, more trouble could be awaiting you." 

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

"So K! Remember when I said you would get to play a role if I ever had a kid?"

Konstantyn perks up at that line, peering toward Salma curiously, "Oh? Yeah, I remember that well, Sal. Didn't plan on going back on my word. What's up? You've a wee one running about now?" 

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

Her heart slammed against her chest as she wandered through the halls of the hospital. She had been avoiding it but hearing that Kon had been admitted for some time now, she couldn't stay away. How could she not know he was there? Was she really so absorbed in herself that she would overlook a friend? Finding his room, she lightly knocked before entering. "Kon?..." Her voice trembled, full of fear and worry.

After some time in the hospital, Konstantyn has recuperated to more of a manageable state where he could get up and do his own thing and not have the nurses on his tail at a constant. Even Franziska showed improvement along with his progress, though still at times, when she thought he hadn’t been gazing her direction, still held a melancholic stare that told a tale all its very own. As much as Konstantyn wanted to help her along and be there, sometimes reality had different plans in mind.

Once Natalia arrives at his room, he perks up right away, showing signs of his former energy and attitude. Yet the way Natalia carries herself stops him entirely in his tracks (Or from sitting up as fully as he attempted to). Leaning forward, Konstantyn settles his elbows onto his knees, studying Natalia carefully as she enters. “Aye, pretty sure I’m still me, Natty. You alright? Look a bit wilted around the edges there. Something happen at training?” If only Konstantyn knew about Vito, the torment Natalia had to endure for the crime of knowing the man. Information he couldn’t fathom, not on his own any way. With Natalia’s past there were only a few likely outcomes that sprung to Konstantyn’s mind. Some secret double life certainly hadn’t been one of them. 

[natalia-holzman]

Bringing up the event again made her mind blank with flashes from that night. Cold air, hot breathes, the red of their blood staining everything while a pair of cold blue eyes fell on her….She trembled in Konstantyn’s grasp, her breath shaky as she let out a sigh. She remembered seeing Kon and Fran after that meeting with the MPs….that was so scary to see. To think she found herself right in the same situation.

Nat shook her head at him, wincing as it only irritated her wounds. “N-no…they’re dead….they all are…” Her main assailant fell before her eyes again, making her jump. She hated seeing him over and over again…

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

"Gone?" The word lingers in the air along with the image it spins. Tiny Natalia running, clad in her gear, the last straw thrown as she exacted retribution on all that dare lay a hand on her. No... no, that could never be Natalia. The way she shivered and cried told an entirely different story. That the young woman seating her forehead against Konstantyn's collar could never commit such heinous crimes, not even in a heated, passionate moment. If one thing showed as a constant in Natalia, that had been the fact she could never harm others so easily, even if they tore her apart in every meaning that the word carried.

  "What happened?" Slowly, the Scout holds Natalia at arm's distance, looking at her, searching for a truth all its own. The truth held her on edge, provoked more tears to run free down her eyes, over her cheeks and dripping down her chin. A few times Konstantyn lifts his hand to clear them away, frowning and shushing her, "How'd they die? Were you there?" 

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

And so, The Rain Returns

[franziska-sturm-deactivated2019]

The whole mood in the room, it just swaps around completely, faster than Franziska can brace herself - and to her, it feels like she’s been slapped right in the face, no punches pulled.

"B-but…I-" with how reddened her skin is at all times, it just sticks out all the more when all colour is drained from it, with her eyes dull and frozen in shock - and the rest of her follows.

Franziska tries to say something else, anything, she can’t even manage to be angry, all she does is shiver after she’s taken a step back from the bed.

Another rivulet of large tears falls from her eyes, leaving dark stains on her shirt.

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

The smaller things were always easier to take, always easier to get by, with a few words, Konstantyn McNair always found a way to make it through the day, relying mostly on himself. Lately, the man found himself knotting with worry more, clasping and unclasping his hands over others like Natalia, Fidel and Salma, each and every one wrapped in a drama all their own, struggling to make it through day by day by their own strength, sometimes entirely forgetting that there are other's around them willing to offer help. The same fact that Konstantyn overlooked so easily, even when Franziska and Konstantyn both made a promise to try and lean on the other more, costing them their own stubbornness.

  A rough hand lifts, attempting to make a path to paw through matted orange locks, that is until the pain stops Konstantyn once more and he has to put it back down to his lap, staring at it ruefully, collecting himself piece by piece, word by word, "Sorry Fran, I don't mean to be callous toward ya. Sometimes I just feel like if I wasn't around, you'd fall apart and I don't want that. We're both soldiers, we need to be strong, even at times like these." Essentially, Konstantyn's words broiled down to Franziska erasing herself, emotion, personal turmoil and all, at the very least, when it came to him. The longer it sat on his shoulders, the heavier it got, the more unfair it all seemed, to ask her not to worry when he did the same. "Fran, I need ya to be strong right now, cause sometimes." Konstantyn looks misrible with the next words rotting through his mouth, "I...I can't always be strong for you." 

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

Her heart slammed against her chest as she wandered through the halls of the hospital. She had been avoiding it but hearing that Kon had been admitted for some time now, she couldn't stay away. How could she not know he was there? Was she really so absorbed in herself that she would overlook a friend? Finding his room, she lightly knocked before entering. "Kon?..." Her voice trembled, full of fear and worry.

After some time in the hospital, Konstantyn has recuperated to more of a manageable state where he could get up and do his own thing and not have the nurses on his tail at a constant. Even Franziska showed improvement along with his progress, though still at times, when she thought he hadn’t been gazing her direction, still held a melancholic stare that told a tale all its very own. As much as Konstantyn wanted to help her along and be there, sometimes reality had different plans in mind.

Once Natalia arrives at his room, he perks up right away, showing signs of his former energy and attitude. Yet the way Natalia carries herself stops him entirely in his tracks (Or from sitting up as fully as he attempted to). Leaning forward, Konstantyn settles his elbows onto his knees, studying Natalia carefully as she enters. “Aye, pretty sure I’m still me, Natty. You alright? Look a bit wilted around the edges there. Something happen at training?” If only Konstantyn knew about Vito, the torment Natalia had to endure for the crime of knowing the man. Information he couldn’t fathom, not on his own any way. With Natalia’s past there were only a few likely outcomes that sprung to Konstantyn’s mind. Some secret double life certainly hadn’t been one of them. 

[natalia-holzman]

Trembling was she ever seemed to be able to do of late. Like any touch, no matter how gentle, would end up being one to hurt her again. She didn’t like that feeling. She wanted to know that someone could bring comfort to her, that she could feel peace again. And for the first time since the kidnapping, she did feel at ease. She felt her fears slowly start to melt away. Of course they were not gone, but Kon’s strong voice broke through that darkness to show her there was still light. It wasn’t enough to fully save her; there was probably only one who could do that right now, but they weren’t exactly on speaking terms.

She blinked as she stared at him, listening to him carefully. That is until his last question came up. Saying it was just an accident, a scuffle of sorts was not going to pass with Kon. He would see so easily through that. But she couldn’t tell him of Vito… She sighed, though it came out more of a moan because of the pain she was feeling. “It was…some MPs…” It was the truth and she knew Kon would believe that was it.

[askkonstantthefoxmcnair]

Nurses continue to pass by, ushering in another man that lost his leg guarding the wall, red stained bandages swathed around the stump underneath his knee as his comrades man handle him into a stretcher. They float past Konstantyn's room, a macabre parade filled with agonizing groans and denial that the man's leg had not yet left him, that he could still feel it. Phantom pains. Gently Konstantyn settles his hand over his stomach, where a small scar marks the knife's entry. Inside a hot burning led still stuck there, claiming its mark. As the Scout shifts uncomfortably, any attention momentarily lost falls back on Natalia.

  "Military Police, hm? Bastarts have a reputation they're not liable to let fly any time soon." Growls fill Konstantyn's throat as he remains there, seated on his bed, eyebrows knotted in frustration and the inability to do anything more than just glare and wish ugly fates onto the men. Men that had already met their end by Titan slaying swords, twisting their way until nothing stood in their wake, just a long, dark stain. "Franny and I, we've had to deal with them in the past. Thinking on it now, the whole thing was stupid of me. We should have been careful about what we did and how we did it. Instead we found ourselves on their bad side. The lads and lassies there, some of them are good kin, others," Orange hair falls as Konstantyn shakes his head, tugging in Natalia's small frame for a comforting embrace, "They still out there? The ones that did this?"