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oh hugo the man that you are.

#zenless zone zero #hugo vlad #zzzedit #creations — ♡.#hugo.

DATE — June, 1917

LOCATION — St. Mark’s Catholic Church

FOR — @scofflawed

Leona spent a lot of time on her knees.

Praying, of course.

Catholicism required a lot of external forms of humility — genuflecting, bowing of the head, kneeling. It was something that Leona did a lot of, without a second thought. Why would she think of her own pride in the house of God? If anything, the quiet of the large church offered her the ability to stop minding the weight of her own burdens, of her own achievements, of her own shortcomings. In this space, she was able to bask in the peace and tranquility of something holy. Far holier than herself. It was nice to feel close to something that was the epitome of perfection, something she was decidedly not.

So, she clutched her rosary closer to her chest, murmuring a steady and near-constant prayer of Hail Mary’s. Holy Mary’s. Determinedly, she pushed out the thoughts of the crimes she’d witnessed that day. Stealing, pillaging, greed, pilfery, disobedience, vandalism. The silk of her gloves felt heavy on her hands. Perhaps it was because she was reminded of how dirty they actually were, so the cleanliness of the cloth felt more burdensome than anything else.

Leona squeezed the rosary tighter.

Footsteps echoed in the emptiness of the church, but still her head remained bowed. The gait of them was familiar, heavy but leisurely — bearing a certain swagger in the stride. Her heart stuttered a moment and she paused, mid-prayer.

Dark lashes fluttered open, but she kept her gaze fixated on the glinting bead of her rosary. She shouldn’t say hello, she really shouldn’t because when has this ever ended in anything other than a tender bruise in her heart —

“I’m surprised you weren’t struck down the moment you passed the threshold,” she said quietly, a cheeky grin curling the edge of her mouth.

♡

#hugo.#thread.#starter.#(LET ME KNOW IF THIS IS BAD IT IS OK)

She was out of breath as she traversed through the quad, clipboard tucked under her arm like the newest designer tote that everyone was just dying to get their hands on that season. Fresh and chilly November wind bit Leo’s cheeks to a crimson and her nose followed suit as if she had been dressing up a few days late for Halloween as Christmas’s favorite reindeer. She was on the phone with her father, as per usual, discussing something frivolous and unimportant like her presence at some large-scale event taking place in some flashy venue with vapid people whose names she didn’t care to remember (well, that was a lie; it’d be impolite to forget) as wives gossiped and husbands conspired. Looking desperately for an out, Leo’s heart leaped as she saw Hugo not too far from her -- the perfect excuse. Quickly insisting she had to go, Leo tapped the tiny red button and called after him with a grin. “You’re just the person I wanted to see,” she said, cocking her head to the side as she pulled out her clipboard. “You see, I’m doing this thing for my stats class, and I, like, desperately need you to answer this question for me. Well, two questions, really. It’s... kind of life-or-death. Think you can handle it?” @hugorafferty