Hello! The names Diana. I'm 28 and a 10 year veteran of the tumblr rp space. I follow from Kurainburdened. I am semi selective and multiship. I'm fairly basic in terms of my comfort zone but there are a couple things I'd like my partners to know
01. I LOOVE plotting out relationships. If I follow you, I'll probably make the first move and IM you once I get a follow back so we can talk about how our characters would interact off each other and what kind of dynamic they'd have. Especially if your muse is a ZA character.
02. No reblogging posts that you are not apart of
03. Probably won't write smut. With that said I don't mind talking about sexual dynamics OOC with my shipping partners.
04. I ADORE shipping but I need a lot of communication with my partners. If you think you could see our muses together don't be afraid to shoot me a message and we can see if we can make something work.
Now, if you want to ship with me here are a couple things to keep in mind.
Harmony in my canon has a crush on Urbain from start of game and that part of her character is kind of important to me. That said, her crush is canon not immutable. It's something that could fade with time by the Rust Syndicate arc or grow stronger and keep going till end of game. It could be used for drama within the dynamic or if that idea makes you uncomfortable, as I said before, it could be long over with by post game. My writing partners comfort is one of my number one priorities so never feel afraid to talk to me
05. TW: Emotional Neglect, Child abuse. I'd like to note that what Harmony experiences is Emotional Neglect, but she doesn't view it as such and likely never will. Nor does she blame her mother. This doesn't reflect anything about my views on this topic. It's simply how Harmony processes what happened to her.
06. Finally, Harmony's experience in the world of chess are specifically modeled after my own experiences working in a blue collar job as a woman. If it's not reflective of the actual space then I'm really sorry.
07. The fact that Harmony is a former chess champion, is something that she keeps very close to the chest. The only one's who would know about it are the rival character and Corbeau (who I'd imagine would have found this out about her via his own information network)
Philippe paused, color rising in his cheeks. How could she say such a thing unironically? She and Urbain had done nearly all of the work to save Lumiose from Ange! What had Philippe done? Not much.
“You flatter me, but… I don’t deserve such a title,” Philippe finally replied. “The title belongs to you and Urbain. Everyone else was just your support. I’m proud to have made a difference in that situation, but… the honor for taking Ange done is not mine.”
"Do you take me for the kind of fool that gives meaningless praise?" Her words were accusatory in nature but there was no malice in her expression or tone. Far from anger, it saddened her that he failed to see the heroicism in his actions that day.
"You are more than worthy of the title. While the rest of the city evacuated, you and your comrades gathered to protect your home. If even one of you hadn't been present I'd have failed in my mission, point blank. Hold your head high as a hero. If not of Lumiose, then as mine," There was no sentimentality in the way she spoke. True to her word, she had no intention of singing praises. She was merely speaking fact.
The crisp night air shocked her system into a state of alertness in spite of the late hour.
Harmony loved the Lumiose night. It welcomed her when sleep evaded her, when her feelings were too strong to be wrangled into place by logic. As of late, the line was blurring between thoughts and feelings, logic and emotion before she couldn’t even tell which was which.
On nights like these she found herself pulling out her father's accordion. The hotel sat conveniently between what was mostly used as office buildings, meaning she didn't have to worry about disgruntled neighbors. The rest of Team MZ were heavy sleepers and the walls were thick enough that it was unlikely the team had realized she could even play an instrument, let alone that she had played several moonlit concerts.
She sat herself on a cool steel bench, closed her eyes and let the soft gentle notes she played carry her back to the day they met
—
Neat lines of men and women had flanked them on either side, guiding their path forward. Their bodies stood still but their eyes followed her as she strode forth with Lida trailing behind her. It was like walking down a hallway of unnerving paintings, except this time, the notion she might be attacked when her back was turned wasn’t just the product of an overactive imagination.
When she finally laid eyes on the man behind their dilemma two things struck her. In spite of how physically underwhelming he was, the pressure she felt under his gaze was immense. The moment she had passed the boundary into his office all the hairs on the back of her neck stood. Instinctively she knew this man was different from all the trainers she had met so far.
The second thing that struck her was more of a passing observation. His face was unmistakably handsome. It wasn’t hard to picture him on the face of one of those magazines that sat unread in the corner of Hotel Z. Modeling was a noble profession, and she couldn’t help but find herself thinking that it was a job more befitting of him. It would be a better use of his features -or in the very least a more achievable goal- than his failed attempt at intimidating her into compliance with a glare.
"Tell me, Philippe, why don't our guests have a scratch on them? You were supposed to crush their spirits. Make them more persuadable.”
"Take pride. Your subordinates were excellent hosts. The appetizers they brought out were exceptional. Though I must admit I'm far from satiated," Harmony stepped forward, looking down at him like a bug she was trying to decide would be worth the trouble of stamping out. "I’ve been wondering when the main course would be served,”
“Harmony,” she heard Lida say sharply. Harmony narrowed her eyes at him, like she had more she wished to say, before ultimately allowing herself to be reigned in. She took a step back in line with Lida and couldn’t help the feeling of being a dog whose leash was just pulled.
Harmony purposefully avoided looking in her direction. No doubt she was wondering what had possessed her to do something so illogical. Harmony was just thinking the same thing. Threatening a loan shark for daring to loan money to a man foolish enough to think he could pay it back? This was exactly the kind of idiotic mistake her teachers instructions were meant to deter
She tried to tell that to the feeling of rage building in her chest but it failed to listen. It was all she could do to maintain the facade of apathy.
–
Villain, monster, fiend, bully,
That was how she’d defined Corbeau when they first crossed paths. Yet as the days pass, she found them to be insufficient. Because how could a bully step in to help children being pushed around by the rich? Why would a monster vanquish its own kind from the shadows of a civilian's office? Why would a fiend deign to clean the sewers of a city that hated him?
Every moment she spent with the man left her with more questions. Before she could even get a single answer out of him he cut her loose from their contract, and subsequently, the paper thin association that connected them.
The music she played came to an abrupt halt as the hair on the back of her neck stood. It was a feeling she had come to know all too well during her tenure as Rust Syndicate Errand Girl . Harmony gently set her instrument aside and turned to address Corbeau. “You’re a little too comfortable watching people without their permission,” Or without them realizing for that matter. Even with the music in her ears, she would have liked to think she was more alert than that. How long had he been standing there?
Looking at Corbeau now she found herself running through all the words she had come to define him by, sizing them up against him. Each one buckled and broke under the weight of her new reality until the only assumption that held true was that he was unfortunately handsome. It was a weak conclusion, and one that did nothing to help her understand him. She cared little for how aesthetically pleasing his face was or wasn't.
She gave a sigh and pulled a thermos and cup from her bag. Harmony poured it's steaming contents as she spoke. "If you had your heart set on a night alone I suggest you take your moon viewing elsewhere. I don't intend to yield my seat," It's a combative thing to say, though Harmony didn't think of it as such. The edge in her words are softened by the way she scooted over on the couch to make room for him. As she pulled the cup of tea to her lips, a second cup that had been nestled beneath it was revealed. It was the closest to an invitation as she was capable to a man she'd considered an enemy 'till moments ago.
The crisp night air shocked her system into a state of alertness in spite of the late hour.
Harmony loved the Lumiose nights. She had fallen in love with them the moment Urbain had introduced them and she found herself frequently indulging in the embrace of the inky black sky. It welcomed her when sleep evaded her, when her feelings were too strong to be wrangled into place by logic. As of late, the line was blurring between thoughts and feelings, logic and emotion before she couldn’t even tell which was which.
On nights like these she found herself pulling out her father's accordion. She sat herself on a cool steel bench, closed her eyes and let the notes she played carry her back to where all her confusion had began
—
Lines of men and women had flanked them on either side, guiding their path forward. Their bodies stood stock still but their eyes followed her as she strode forth with Lida trailing behind her. It was like walking down a hallway of unnerving paintings, except this time, the notion she might be attacked when her back was turned wasn’t just the product of an overactive imagination.
Two grunts stood at the door, their hands pressed against the wood like stagehands primed to pull the curtain back for the star to make their entrance. Harmony refused to break stride as she moved forward, accepting the leading role with open arms.
There were two striking things about the man sitting before her. The first was likely a common observation, though she doubted many would have the courage to voice it. In a world where power and intimidation was everything, being physically underwhelming was likely a sore spot for him. In contrast the chair he took up would be overwhelmingly large for any average sized man. She couldn’t imagine why he’d chosen to make his sitting arrangement both setup and punchline. Surely the Rust Syndicate could afford a chair that fit him.
In spite of what should have been a comical display, the pressure she felt under his gaze was immense. The moment she had passed the boundary into his office all the hairs on the back of her neck stood. Instinctively she knew this man was different from all the trainers she had met so far.
The second thing that struck her was more of a passing observation. His face was unmistakably handsome. It wasn’t hard to picture him on the face of one of those magazines that sat unread in the corner of Hotel Z. Modeling was a noble profession, and she couldn’t help but find herself thinking that it was a job more befitting of him. It would be a better use of his features -or in the very least a more achievable goal- than his failed attempt at intimidating her into compliance with the glare he was fixing her with.
"So you two came in place of Urbain, eh? He's too good to come himself? But tell me, Philippe, why don't our guests have a scratch on them? You were supposed to crush their spirits. Make them more persuadable.”
"Take pride. Your subordinates were excellent hosts. The appetizers they brought out were exceptional. Though I must admit I'm far from satiated," Harmony stepped forward, looking down at him like a bug she was trying to decide would be worth the trouble of stamping out. "I’ve been wondering when the main course would be served,”
“Harmony,” she heard Lida say sharply. Harmony narrowed her eyes at him, like she had more she wished to say, before ultimately allowing herself to be reigned in. She took a step back in line with Lida and couldn’t help the feeling of being a dog whose leash was just pulled.
As the two were led to the couches Lida shot her a look that said “What was that just now?”
It was a fitting response. Harmony was usually the level head of the group yet she had outright provocated the head of the Rust Syndicate. Harmony nodded in agreement and mouthed an apology.
For the rest of the conversation, Harmony managed to remain unmoved and undaunted, though not without a great deal of effort. There’s a moment where she’s sure she might crack as Philippe regaled them with the tale of how these fiends trapped Urbain into unending debt.
It’s a common story, in fact, by now every inhabitant of Lumiose could recall some version of ‘Urbain helped me out when I was in a pinch.’ She herself had been pulled out of her lowest point when Urbain had first reached a hand towards her. These villains had been on the receiving end of such kindness and chose to take advantage of him. The thought made her furious.
Yet, as loathe as she was to admit, the logical side of her brain understood them. He was an easy target for them and nothing more. There was no gun to Urbain's head forcing him to sign the contract. If he didn’t understand the ramifications it was his own foolish fault and his own foolish problem. As elected leader his foolish problems were theirs. The men in front of them had committed no crimes, at least as far as Team MZ was concerned.
She tried to tell that to the feeling of rage building in her chest but it failed to listen. It was all she could do to maintain the facade of apathy. In the silence she left it was up to Lida to ask the hard questions.
–
Villain, monster, fiend, bully,
Those were the words she’d defined Corbeau when they first crossed paths. Yet as the days pass, she found them to be insufficient. Because how could a bully step in to help children being pushed around by the rich? Why would a monster vanquish its own kind from the shadows of a civilian's office? Why would a fiend deign to clean the sewers of a city that hated him?
Every moment she spent with the man left her with more questions. Before she could even get a single answer out of him he cut her loose from their contract, and subsequently, the paper thin association that connected them.
The only thing she was left knowing for sure was that he was a competent leader whose skill she couldn't help but respect. Even in spite of the grudge she still held for having duped Urbain.
The music she played came to an abrupt halt as the hair on the back of her neck stood on edge. It was a feeling she had come to know all too well during her tenure as Rust Syndicate Errand Girl . Harmony gently set her instrument aside and turned to address the man she knew to be standing there. “You’re a little too comfortable watching people without their permission,” Or without them realizing for that matter. Even with the music in her ears, she would have liked to think she was more alert than that. How long had he been standing there?
She found herself running through all the words she had come to define him by, sizing them up against the man that stood before her. Each one buckled and broke under the weight of her new reality until the only assumption that held true was that he was unfortunately handsome.
It was a weak conclusion, and one that did nothing to help her understand him. She cared little for how aesthetically pleasing his face was or wasn't. The only thing she really wanted to know was- “Just who are you, Corbeau?” The question that had been rolling around her head for the past few days escaped past her lips unbidden. For once the shock she felt was apparent on her face.
A soft breeze cut through the silence, gently carrying her long hair as the two quietly regarded each other. Corbeau opened his mouth, though whether it was to answer her or mock her for even asking she never found out. Harmony cut in quickly before he could get a word in. “My apologies, forget I said anything. You see, when it comes to riddles I much prefer to solve them on my own,”
Harmony never assumes that she means anything to people.
She doesn't have low self esteem or think little of herself. She's actually pretty arrogant. She simply never assumes that she takes emotional space in peoples lives because that's her experience with her Mother.
I mentioned this in my bio but her mother refers to herself as her teacher and refers to harmony has her 'pupil'. They have a very detached and cold relationship.
Her mom speaks in a way that's really derogatory and cruel, but she truly doesn't mean anything by what she says. Harmony understands this about her and therefore is very accustomed to this exercise of taking emotional statements and rationalizing them into neutral statements. Which is why when people try to say anything about how they care about her, her kneejerk reaction is to rationalize their words into a more pragmatic meaning.
Team MZ are the only ones who she understands care about her and that took a lot of time.
Helpful hints: Harmony is very weak to romance and sweeping gestures, but is very good at hiding it by post-game thanks to Urbain
If you want Harmony to understand you care about her, you have to be very very explicit. Don't mix statements about how strong she is or how reliable she is. She'll latch onto those statements and tie how much you care about her to how skilled she is.
Early Childhood: Harmony has very few memories of this time in her life. There's a fuzzy recollection of a father figure. His face has long since faded from memory. All that remains is a vague memory of a warm smile and a hug that once felt like home.
Chessmaster Era: Her father passes away much too early and when she looks at the woman who gave birth to her she cant help but feel she is left with the leftovers. Even at her young age she can tell her mother feels the same.
Harmony doesn't remember her father. But she remembers the day after he died as if it happened yesterday. The woman, who she only ever caught a glimpse of before she went to work, sat her down at the table and offers her a question.
'Would you like a subpar mother or an amazing teacher'
The woman before her is a star in the world of chess. Until that day she had been asked countless times to mentor other prodigies. She had turned down every single one of them.
Harmony didn't think twice before answering.
Since that day, her mother became 'Ma'am'. She was introduced not as her 'daughter' but as her 'pupil'. Her mother kept both promises. She raised Harmony to be one of the best chess players in Alola. In return Harmony had forfeited her right to a loving environment.
Harmony never held this against her mother. Her mother had 0 maternal instinct and they both knew it. If all her mother could offer her was her skills than Harmony would gladly take that.
The world of chess was not kind to her. A young girl was an oddity among her peers. They never let her forget that she didn't belong but she knew to never show weakness. It was the only thing her mother had ever taught her outside of chess. She met their derision and scorn with a cool gaze and a quick retort.
Unfortunately Harmony had the ability to mimic her mothers disposition but lacked the mental fortitude to truly emulate it. Often she'd get home from a chess tournament and cry from the stress.
At the age of 22 she finally hit her breaking point. She knew she'd have to quit chess. Which begged the question. If she quit chess, what relationship would she have left with her mother?
After months of trying and failing to break the news to her, Harmony decided to put off the decision. Instead she announced she'd be taking a break to go on a vacation to Lumiose, the home of her father.
He opens his eyes after a moment, but doesn't move away. He lets her stay, even after the count in his head reaches zero.
"I apologize that you had to witness such things that night. That you ended up in a position where this became your only option-" he growls, gesturing loosely to the bandages wrapped tightly around burned skin. "It should never have happened. If I had just been more careful, if I really had called Philippe instead of you--"
Would he still have survived if he'd delayed even a few minutes longer? Or would all have been lost? Was it even worth thinking about any longer?
He was going to wipe that whole group off the face of the earth for daring to do this. Mark his words.
As the timer in her head ticked down, the trembling of her shoulders slowed to a stop. The soft cries were replaced with deep breaths. Internally Harmony wrangled her emotions into check.
Slowly, she opened her eyes. The counter had hit 0.
Harmony pulled away and made quick work of cleaning herself up. Making herself presentable was a skill she had long since mastered.
The words Corbeau spoke into the silence made guilt settle into her stomach. She tried desperately to hear him out to the end but it became too unbearable. Before he could finish his sentence Harmony took him by his chin and pulled him to face her. All traces of the girl crying in his arms were gone, shoved back into the corners of her heart where she belonged. Her gaze was even, like the calm after the storm.
"Corbeau, I've always liked your eyes," she said "The way they shine bright with unwavering ambition has always captivated me," Harmony spoke plainly. It wasn't an emotional declaration but a fact she was presenting to him. "Don't cloud them with doubt. Not on my account and definitely not on account of men whose blood isn't even good enough to dirty your shoes,"
This was her fault. If she could have held it together. If she hadn't forced him into a position of having to comfort her, he wouldn't have hesitated like this.
Shame burned in her chest. She had to do something. "To call me might have been your mistake but the choice to come to your aid was mine. I take pride in that decision. I wanted to save you," Harmony swallowed, willing herself not to break eye contact. "I wanted to save you because the Lumiose city I've come to love wouldn't be the same without you in it,"
Harmony pushed herself off the bed and threw the stack of papers he'd been reading back onto his lap. "If you have the energy to do that then you have the energy to review these reports," she flashed him a smile. "They failed to destroy the serpents head. Let's show them how we strike back, shall we?"
“Harmony, wait just one moment,” Philippe said with a concerned frown, putting a hand on the young woman’s shoulder. He hated hearing her talk negative about herself. She was such a brilliant young woman. She was kind, clever, and an excellent trainer. Why did she insist on talking down on herself in this way?
“I understand that you don’t want me to acknowledge what you said that day,” Philippe began, meeting Harmony’s eyes seriously, “but please don’t think I’d ever mock you for it. Believe it or not, I actually like you. Quite a bit, actually. You’re a formidable trainer, one that should be respected, as well as feared by those who attempt to hurt you and the ones you care for. You’re a sweet girl too, and you defend the ones you love with a ferocity unlike I’ve ever seen before.”
He paused, taking a deep breath and letting it out. “…I don’t think I could have taken those assailants down like you did. You saved Mr. Corbeau’s life. I wouldn’t have commanded my team with the cleverness and creativity that you did yours. I would have fought them with all of my strength… but sometimes, brute strength just isn’t enough. Sometimes, a sharp mind is what’s needed, and you’ve got that in droves.”
He set the sweets to the side, pulling Harmony into a hug. “Please don’t ever feel like you’re lesser than for loving others with such a Pyroar’s heart. Thank you for being the Syndicate’s secret weapon. I don’t know if Mr. Corbeau would be alive today if it wasn’t for you.”
‘I actually like you’ Her instincts told her to reject the truth in this statement. Surely it was a ruse, or a manipulation. What was there to like about her?
In spite of her reluctance to show it, she liked a lot of people in this city. So many kind, brave, strong people to be met. In this city filled to the brim with extraordinary individuals, she couldn’t help but wonder just what he thought was so special about her. Her inability to be honest had hurt so many. None of which deserved it. Now Philippe was added onto that list.
But he didn’t even give her a chance to deny him before knocking the wind out of her with what could have only been a painful confession. Harmony knew better than anyone just how deeply he cared for his charge. Corbeau was the center of his world. There was surely no worse humiliation than admitting he had been inadequate.
He’d push himself this far just to comfort her?
Philippe pulled her into a hug and she didn’t even have it in her to feign discomfort. All at once his body heat seeped through her limbs, filling in cracks in her heart she’d long since forgotten about and warming parts of herself she didn’t even realize were cold. She found herself completely overwhelmed by the ferocity at which he loved.
‘Heart of a Pyroar’ Harmony liked the ring of that.
Philippe spoke as if loving people in and of itself required some kind of bravery. The second the thought occurred to her she wondered if that had been the missing piece she’d been searching for all along. Maybe there was no special technique she could study to take care of those she held dear. Maybe all it required was a push to do something a bit scary.
Her gaze slid to him, and for a moment she felt like she was seeing him for the first time. If there was bravery to be had in loving, maybe Philippe wasn’t one of the strongest men in Lumiose because of the size of his muscles.
“I actually like you very much too Philippe,” Harmony summoned all the courage she could muster. She was scared, but as she always said ‘she could get scared later’
“I hear my student Harmony has recently become employed here. I’d like to see her,”
The woman who sat in front of Corbeau and Philippe was undoubtedly Harmonys mother. Their faces were identical give or take a couple of decades. The color of their eyes, hair, skin tone, even the way they styled their hair were all mirror images of the girl they’d come to know. It was as if Harmony from the future was sitting before them. The most striking difference between the two wasn’t the age difference, but the way her mother exuded arrogance. She sat back in her chair, arms crossed, looking down her nose with eyes that said she had already judged them to be beneath her.
Harmony suddenly strode into Corbeaus office, a stack of papers in hand and stopped dead in her tracks as their guest turned around and revealed herself. Her mother’s demeanor turned from defiant to indifferent.
“Ma’am. What are you doing here?”
“I was in town for a Chess Tournament. Why aren’t you participating?” There was no curiosity in her tone. She held no interest in Harmonys answer despite posing the question.
Harmony felt her blood go cold. She had wanted to tell her teacher on her own time. Life had become so difficult after the wormholes had popped up over Lumiose. She couldn’t just fly back to Alola. “I decided I’m going to quit. I’ve become a Pokemon trainer,” she replied.
“That’s not how I designed you,” It wasn’t an accusation but an almost bored observation.
“No, it’s not,” Harmony replied evenly. It was exactly the kind of response she had expected.
“I suppose the last 23 years I invested in you was a spectacular waste of effort spent,”
“I suppose so,”
“I have no reason to meet with you,”
Harmony swallowed. “That’s true,”
“The least you can do is humor me to one final game of chess then,” Harmonys mother got up from her chair and pushed past her daughter, not even bothering to acknowledge Corbeau or Philippe as she left. “Come now,”
“Last game?” Harmony repeated, her eyebrows raised. “I didn’t take you for the sentimental type,”
“Neither did I,” her mother replied. Her eyes slid from the pin on her daughter’s lapel to the one on Corbeau and Philippe’s chest. “If you have business with them, make it quick. I’d prefer you not waste any more of my time than you already have. I’ll be in the park till sundown,”
Harmony turned towards them both“I apologize on my teachers behalf. I hope she didn’t cause you too much trouble,”
He's not the sort who often lingers in his own doubts. Far from it- he could not afford to.
However, at this moment, he feels like a terrible fool, because he had thought nothing of how these events must have shaken her.
She had been terrified. He'd saddled her with a terrible task, and she'd risen to the occasion admirably.
But achieving a goal didn't simply eliminate the fear. The body kept the score, and the spring wound tight inevitably had to release its tension.
He'd preoccupied his days with thoughts of revenge and work, when he should have considered her. How going from one extreme to the other would affect anyone.
He stayed frozen for a time, listening to her shaking sobs and feeling her tremble, and his stomach swoops at the sound of it. Slowly, hesitantly, he raises his hand and places it upon her head, moving his palm slowly, stiltedly downwards. His fingers card through her hair.
He didn't do comfort, but he needed to try. For her.
She had asked for a minute because it felt like the most her pride would allow. Now she regretted not asking for 15. Even worse, there was a part of herself that knew but would never admit, that she regretted the list of demands she had given him. She regretted not asking him to just hold her.
As if reading those thoughts an awkward hand moved through her hair. It was a clumsy attempt at comfort at best. Maybe that was why it was so precious to her. Because she knew this wasn't a practiced skill he had honed. It was an attempt in spite of his inadequacy. The way she nuzzled her head into him in response was almost completely involuntary.
Her hand slowly fell away from his eyes. Whether or not it was implicit permission to open his eyes, even she wasn't sure.
She gave a long exhale. Nothing could ever be easy with him, could it. Well, the same could be said for her.
The way he had worked her up, she almost wondered if this request was unneeded.
Harmony turned toward him. Corbeaus body was taut with irritation but he was still forcing himself to comply with her demands. For her sake. Her gaze softened with affection in spite of herself.
The mattress shifted as she sat down at the side of his bed. "Don't say anything," she said. "Don't move. Don't listen. Don't speak," Harmony put a hand to his closed eyes, letting it rest gently against his skin, careful to not aggravate his wounds. "Don't look. Then forget everything,"
Softly, Harmony let her head rest against his shoulder. The moment her eyes were hidden in the fabric of his clothing, her irritation melted and the dam broke.
The first tears that fell were slow and burning.
What-ifs were such a pointless exercise. Yet they cycled through her thoughts unbidden. Because what if she hadn't made it in time? What if burning his skin killed him rather than saved him? What if her pride had won and she hadn't called Philippe for help. What if anger overtook her reason and she became so preoccupied with revenge that her friend had died waiting for her?
What if he had died?
Oh Arceus he almost died.
A trembling hand gripped the front of his clothing at the thought. He was here. She could feel him. He was alive.
In spite of this, vivid images flash through her minds eye trying to convince her otherwise. Images of Corbeaus skin turning pale in her arms. A growing pool of blood spreading around the two of them. The flame of ambition in his eyes slowly fading out, possibly forever.
Did he have any idea how scared she was?
Her head sunk lower and her shoulders shook. More and more tears spilled over until she no longer knew how she'd manage to stifle them. The best she could do was keep the small gasps and sobs low and quiet and pray that Corbeau had the good sense to pretend he heard none of it.
"Thank you, for being safe," she managed to whisper. "I'm so glad you're ok,"
In the back of her mind a timer was keeping track of how much time she had left.
"Harmony, out with it." He is losing his patience, and that is never a good thing. All this ridiculous beating around the bush isn't his style. "For Arceus' sake, you saved my life, do you honestly believe there's anything you could ask for that I couldn't give you?"
For a moment her own hardheadedness wins out and she almost snapped when she replied. "I need you sit there. Close your eyes and do nothing. For one minute. Can you do that for me. I need answer an answer now. Yes or no,"
Why did he have to be such a headache sometimes. "It's a small price to pay. Isn't it?" She just needed a minute of reprieve. After all she did, why was he making her fight for it.
He pores over the documents, but all the while, his gaze keeps flicking back to Harmony and her seemingly nervous energy. He can feel the tension in the silence, but he's not entirely certain of the cause.
He's always prided himself in being good at predicting people, that subtle manipulation that got him where he was today- but he couldn't read her right now.
Furrowing his brow, he removes his glasses, letting them hang from their chain, and stares at her.
Harmony, what?
"A favor? And what, exactly, do you need from me?"
She bit her lip. "I just need one minute," she repeated. She didn't want to say it out loud. She feared if she did she'd lose all the nerve she had.
It's foolish to ask. A skilled negotiator such as him knew the number one rule of making deals. Never say yes before you know what you're signing up for.
"You always knew that was the case." He smirked. After all, the Syndicate was always watching, just like he'd told her.
He accepted the medicine with a look of suspicion, but relaxed quickly when she explained. She seemed to understand him better than he thought. She didn't coddle him, and seemed to understand his need to stay occupied.
"If I'm being perfectly honest, I could use the company as well." He knocks the pills back with a swig of coffee. Holy shit, that was a strong brew. Just what he needed.
He takes the reports in hand, looking them over.
It's a shockingly thick stack given it hasn't been all that long, and he can see Harmony's handwriting all over it. He's honestly pretty touched.
"Well, Philippe still has his nose to the grindstone, I see. This is quite comprehensive, at that. These must be your handiwork, then?"
He looks back up at her, and smiles- a genuine smile, the light of which even reaches his eyes. It's unmistakably, undeniably fond.
Harmony understood his need to stay occupied because staying busy was the only thing keeping her sane. Now her busy work was done, her charge taken care of, and all of his foreseeable needs fulfilled.
Corbeau would be absorbed in the stack of papers she'd left him. What did that leave her with but much needed but wholly unwanted time to process the day.
Her eyes searched the room trying to find anything that could keep her thoughts from straying into the sentimental. Instead, she found her gaze drawn Corbeau, his intimidating figure illuminated by the moonlight
The injuries he'd sustained were extensive. Even putting aside the gash she'd had to burn close, his ribs had been broken, his skull almost cracked, and they'd even left him with a black eye for decoration. In spite of that there wasn't ounce of self pity or fear reflected in his gaze. He sat tall, proud, and unwavering.
Harmony couldn't help but find him beautiful in that moment.
It was strange. She'd seen him scrutinizing a stack of papers as if he could intimate them into telling him what he wanted to know, countless times. Yet the scene felt so precious to her now.
Maybe because she had been so close to never seeing it again.
The thought gave an extra push to something that had been building in her for some time. It was almost getting impossible to force down.
When Corbeau raised his voice to get her attention it was a welcome change of pace. Maybe she could get her mind off these pointless thoughts.
Instead, the smile he affixed her with was so captivating she almost had no choice but to drink it in. The warmth it filled her with worked it's way through the cracks in her defenses until she felt them give way and crumble.
Harmony suddenly stood up and pulled her hat low over her eyes. "I apologize. I would've liked to wait until you recovered to call in this favor but I don't think it can wait much longer," In spite of her emotional state her voice was low and serious.
Harmony saved the leader of the Rust Syndicate, the debt they owed her was priceless. She should be able to ask for anything. The sky if she so pleased.
"Do what I say for one minute. I just need one. Do that for me and consider your debt paid,"
Debts, scores, obligations. These were the only way she knew to ask for help.
"Then, frankly, it sounds like less than you deserve. Far less, in my opinion."
It's not right that Harmony should have this much strength, and yet feel like she needs to restrain it for the sake of others. In fact, it makes him angrier than he'd really like to admit.
"But it seems I could try in vain to convince you of your own value until I'm blue in the face, hm? Just..."
"Just know that there's always a place for you here, if you have need of it."
He earned a genuine smile from her for that. Not just for the sentiment but for allowing her the space she needed. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you. Now rest. You've fought sleep for long enough,"
---
It was the middle of the night when Harmony finally relaxed back into the sofa. She tossed her pen where it went clattering onto a table, and the stack of papers she'd been annotating dropped into her lap.
Philippe's investigation had proven to be more productive than she thought. As to be expected from the former boss of the Syndicate.
The next few hours were dedicated to jotting down discrepancies, offering her perspective where she felt it needed, and adding possible next moves they could make tomorrow. She'd even highlighted important information and places of note for Corbeau. They hadn't asked, but she had to do something to make herself useful while she played babysitter to sleeping beauty.
With her self-assigned work done, Harmony's eyes drift to Corbeau and to the hand that Philippe had so tenderly held. Then she looked down at her own. Was she capable of holding someone like that?
Her hand lifted off her lap and moved towards his. When Philippe held Corbeaus hand, it was painfully obvious how much he loved him. If she took his hand, she wondered what someone else might see. Harmony stopped, hand hovering inches above Corbeaus. Her gaze fell to the red lining his fingernails. A sudden thought struck her.
Actually, she could remember the last time someone held her. Unfortunately it wasn't a good memory. She had pulled Corbeau's arms around her to keep him from scratching his fingers along the pavement earlier. That could be considered 'being held', no?
Now that she thought about it, there had been a stinging sensation in her back all day. She had only barely registered it in the chaos. Harmony pulled herself in front of a mirror hanging in the room and raised the back of her shirt halfway. Along the small of her back were clear red trails left behind by Corbeaus nails.
"First time I'm held in years, this is what I get for it," she chuckled, dropping the fabric. She felt a sense of vindication for having avoided all the times Lida attempted to pull her in for a hug.
Harmony eyed the clock. It had been several hours since she'd last brewed his coffee. It was likely stale by now. She busied herself at the small kitchenette tucked in the corner of the room and began her third clumsy attempt at brewing. She had always seen Philippe grind and brew Corbeaus coffee himself. No doubt his was leagues better than her sad attempt.
Her arm stuttered through each rotation of the grinder's lever. Philippe had always spun it so effortlessly, she never realized how much strength it actually took. Brewing proved difficult as well. An errant splash of hot water hit her hand and she bit her lip to keep from yelping in pain. She hunched over, holding her hand to her chest before slowly, reluctantly, she tried again.
Philippe did this all the time?
When she finally turned to bring the newly brewed pot she was startled to find Corbeau awake, his eyes on her. "You are a little too comfortable watching me without my permission, you know," she said but her words held no bite.
She set the coffee down and traded it for a bottle of medicine. "Don't worry it won't knock you out," she reassured as she handed it to him. "I need the company,"
Before he could even ask she set down the report she edited onto his lap, along with a spare pair of glasses and a pen for him to write down his own notes. The report had been reprinted into a font that she had read would be easier on his likely concussion-addled head. His glasses had been brought over by a grunt and she had taken the liberty of asking the doctor to replace the nose pad with something that could more comfortably rest on his wounds.
It was strange. Harmony had always thought herself incapable of taking care of others, but it came so easy with Corbeau. It wasn't hard to foresee his needs. All she had to do was imagine what she would've wanted.
Briefly, she considered holding the glass to Corbeaus lips like Philippe had done earlier. She shook the notion away. She couldn't even if she wanted to. Did she? She handed him the glass.
"While I can't say I agree with everything they do-," Namely Urbain. The thought of him still sent pangs of pain through her heart. There was a point in time where she truly thought she might have a future with him. Now there was a hole in her heart where love once lay.
"Yes. Yes, they have. More than I deserved," she answered wistfully. They had accepted her at her worst. Given her a place, a purpose, seen potential in her where others didn't. In spite of everything, she still felt a debt was owed to those three bigger than she could ever repay.
"My true value?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow. "What was that you told me about flattery?" Contrary to the saying, it was undeniable that he was putting her back into a good mood.
Harmony hummed in thought for a moment, pondering his question. Then she flashed him the smile of a woman with a secret, and looked at him with the eyes of someone assessing whether he was worthy enough to hear. "No. Not yet,"
