God bless the CN Sylus Girlies for having all our backs š«¶
I'm hoping this will finally make Infold release his content from their basement and stop treating him as their cash cow. B/c right now? He is essentially P2W and even for spenders he is extremely difficult to main. Raising his affinity is hell compared to the other LIs. Whaling and R3ing his cards is basically a necessity at this point. Especially if you're a newer player.
It's just not fair and we should all demand better treatment.
(Note: This is NOT a question of asking for MORE Sylus content compared to the other LIs. Most Sylus girlies ā myself included ā know and accept that Sylus will never truly catch up b/c of him being newer. No, what we're asking for is literally just to have the same amount of stuff that the other 3 had upon release and which Sylus still does not have months after his introduction)
So Papergames finally officially responded... by trying not only to gaslight their consumers but also by subtly threatening to take legal action against CN Sylus girlies for "spreading false information". š«
What false information??? The numbers speak for themselves ššš Also way to not even address the issue which is the severe lack of Standard Sylus content. Literally all we're asking for is the bare minimum
https://x.com/TheLunaRiegrow/status/1878922473875673209 (another informative post, going into detail on what Sylus is lacking (calculating that he is missing 16,550 affinity points) the timeline of his and other LI's development (Sylus was planned as far back as in June 2023, perhaps even earlier), and more! Please check it out!
https://www.reddit.com/r/LoveAndDeepspace_/s/wg63ZSQfBc (this post lays out the vast gap in cards and affinity points between Sylus and the OG3. I'd also advise you to read this comment by another user which explains why non-Sylus mains should also be very concerned. B/c this is in no way an issue that will only affect Sylus girlies in the long run.)
https://www.tumblr.com/yes-no-maybe-soo/772593769512157184/you-know-what-fuck-it-now-that-im-at-it-i-might?source=share (my own post on the issue)
Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, discussions of past minor character death, and descriptions of anxiety.
Word count: 2.6k.
You awake to cold sheets and damp cheeks.Ā
It isnāt a peaceful transition into consciousness. You fight for each breath, a losing battle that swaddles your mind in thick fog. The vapors thin out as time drags along. It doesnāt dissipate in its entirety, preferring to linger and prolong your disorientation.Ā
You wipe at your face with your wrists, ignoring the sting accompanying the action. Hesitatingly, you appraise it in a ray of moonlight that snuck past the blinds. Itās clear, not crimson and thick. A normal product of a healthy body. You should feel relieved, you think. Every organ is as it should be. Your brain remains in your cranium, your lungs expand and contract, and your heart pumps, albeit at an alarming speed.Ā
Itās better than the chill of encroaching death.Ā
ā¦Ā
You are alive, arenāt you?Ā
This question prompts an investigation.Ā
Nothing hurts. Your throat, maybe, but thatās a minor ache spurred from thirst. Your skin is warm and clammy. Peeling the comforter off, you squint, assessing your bodyās condition. Weary eyes take in everything. Your socks, the lace trimming of your nightgown, its diaphanous midriff, then your chest. Everything appears in order.Ā Ā
Would your incorporeal form accurately reflect your physical body?Ā
You shake your head.Ā
This canāt be heaven ā no pantheon would be cruel enough to set the stage of your paradise with props from your captivity.Ā
It canāt be hell either. If it were, you wouldnāt be alone right now.
You blink.
Youāre alone?Ā
Chrolloās side of the bed is notably empty. He mustāve got up in a hurry, the sheets are in disarray. The adjoining restroom is dark and unoccupied, confirming he must be elsewhere. Your stomach churns. Determined to do away with this creeping anxiety, you get up, padding across the hardwood floor.Ā
The night gifts shivers and goosebumps. Wishing to ward off its unwanted advances, you wrap your arms around yourself. You pass through the door that connects to the common area. Although itās dimly lit, you can tell he isnāt here. The attached balcony is similarly uninhabited. A quick foray into the study confirms your status; youāre truly by yourself.Ā
What should be a triumph or a relief delivers nothing but dread.Ā
You return to the common room to assess the situation.Ā
Youāve never been left alone before. Not without him telling you in advance, normally with a rough estimate of when heāll return. Thereās no way an important detail like that would slip your mind. At a loss, you dredge through your memories for some sign you may have missed. His voice pierces through your head like an arrow. You wince but ignore your bodyās displeasure at anything associated with him. The unintelligible noises sharpen, forming consonants and vowels.Ā
The thrum of the air conditioner eases away.Ā
Youāre left in absolute silence, until Chrolloās voice fades away, replaced by another.
ā... She was five or six, I think. Right around the age where you start losing baby teeth. Thereād been this game she wanted and, yāknow, kids arenāt rolling in cash. So she figured, what better way to pay for it than through the tooth fairy? I caught āer with my wrench, determined as anything, ready to speed up the process. It ended up being a little inside joke between us.ā
Your lower lip trembles.Ā
ā... Thatās how she ended up getting identified. Her teeth, I mean. Wasnāt anything else left to go off of. I couldnāt wrap my brain around it. A whole life she lived, sometimes getting into trouble, but mostly helping others outta theirs. And to have thatā all thatā reduced to justā¦ just a couple, couple fuckināā teeth? What kinda joke is that?ā
You fill a glass with water until it overflows.Ā Ā
āHey, tell me. Has that fucker ever mentioned āer? ā¦ Probably not, right? Probably never knew she existed in the first place.āĀ
Head thrown back, you gulp down the liquid, fighting the lump that longs to form in your throat.Ā
āWho knows? Maybe Iām the one in the wrong āere. Hell, you donāt look much older than her yourself. I donātā donāt wanna hurt ya. Butā¦āĀ
Tears prick the corner of your eyes.Ā
āThereās no other way to hurt him.āĀ
Someoneās beside you.
You can hear their voice, though it sounds like itās coming from miles away, carried over by the wind. Warmth sears your bare shoulders. You smell the faint aroma of sandalwood and amber. Itās distinct, this cologne that serves as an ill-omen better than any blackbird or cracked mirror. You couldnāt scrub it from your memory if you tried. That, or the scent of old books, leather, coffee, and red wine.Ā
You dig your nails into something ā fabric, perhaps ā but nothing grounds you. Itās like youāve been transported outside of space and time. Existing, yet far from alive. Your stomach falls while your head floats away. Up, up, up, lifting you higher and higher. From this impossible vantage point, you sway, your limbs gleefully ignoring every attempt to regain control.Ā
And there it is again. Your name echoes throughout the atmosphere, beckoning you to acknowledge the soundās source.Ā
Maybe you should.
Even if youāll come to regret it.Ā
When you first met Chrollo, his eyes stood out the most, like the universe itself deemed them worthy of veneration. You found the gray depths captivating. The undertone varied, you never could ascertain if they were a cool or warm shade. All you knew was that once they found you, they boasted a vitality siphoned at the expense of your own.Ā
Presently, they canāt. Their unwitting host has been exsanguinated.Ā
āWhere wereāā You silence yourself, aghast by the implication.Ā
Youād sought him out. So desperate for an anchor, you wouldāve latched onto the culprit behind your drowning. Thereās no doubt heād find some twisted satisfaction in the accidental admission. You shrink away, but the solid counter presses against your spine, halting your retreat. He doesnāt advance, youād barely created any distance.Ā
āThereād been something that required my immediate attention,ā Chrollo answers your unfinished question. Thereās no thinly veiled derision or curiosity in his voice. You miss the familiarity. āDoes anything hurt?āĀ
Itās then that you recall your predicament.Ā
Youāre on the kitchen floor, surrounded by scintillating shards of glass. A pool of water gathers to your right. Chrolloās bent down before you, wearing a heavy coat and a tint of pink on his nose. He mustāve come from outside. He stares unblinkingly, awaiting your verdict, which you deliver by shaking your head. Thereās a dull ache in your tailbone but you keep that to yourself. Itās awkward enough that he found you in this state.Ā
Youāre sitting on the floor with one leg extended and the other bent at the knee, allowing your short nightgown to ride up. The compromising position stokes your embarrassment. You shuffle around to maintain some dignity. In doing so, you forget the pointed glass strewn about. Before you make contact, youāre hoisted up. Chrollo foresees your struggle and holds you tight enough to thwart its success.Ā
āYouāre alright,ā he reassures, his sincere gentleness unbecoming.Ā "Everything's alright."
He places you down on the closest couch and sits beside you. While you regain your bearings, he shrugs off his jacket, then drapes it around your trembling form. His scent and warmth flood your senses. You consider throwing it off out of spite, only to decide against it. Youād be the one to suffer the most. Chrollo remains unusually silent as you cocoon yourself in the thick wool jacket. Itās big on you, but not big enough to swallow you whole like youād prefer.Ā
āShould I grab your propranolol?āĀ
Another head shake.
āWill you tell me what happened?ā Foreseeing your tepid response, he adds, āVerbally?āĀ
You clear your throat as quietly as you can. āI got thirsty.āĀ
āHm.āĀ
You both know he isnāt convinced. Itād be easy for him to poke and prod until you revealed everything ā intentionally or not ā but his lips remain in a thin line. You shuffle in your seat. The fabric brushes against your wrists, eliciting a sharp inhale. The burn is short-lived yet the memories associated with it rage on.Ā
ā... Chrollo?āĀ
He blinks, likely unused to the sound of his name on your lips. āYes, love?āĀ
āIf that man killed me, would it have hurt you?āĀ
A shadow falls over his visage, like a waxing crescent transitioning to a new moon. When you shiver, it isnāt from the cold. Dark hair frames a far darker expression. His eyes narrow as if heās trying to see you better, beyond your flesh, at the crux of your soul. You await whatever comes next, returning his stare with equal intensity.Ā
Finally, he slowly replies, āYes, it wouldāve.āĀ
āThen why was it so easy for you to kill his daughter?ā You ask, the words weighing heavily upon you. āYou mightāve liked her, if youād gotten to know her.āĀ
The man revealed enough for you to feel like you knew her. Lana Ellis ā a woman with an iron will, sharp tongue, and golden heart. Sheād recently been hired to work as a waitress at a business that catered high-end events. Galas, celebrity birthdays and weddings, those sorts of things. It wasnāt going to be a permanent arrangement. Lana planned to ditch the gig after saving up tuition money, where sheād then aim for a doctorate in veterinary medicine. According to him, heād squandered her college fund after the unexpected death of her mother; his childhood sweetheart. He said heād never forgive himself or the Troupe.Ā
āShe wasnāt sāposed to have been there,ā he wheezed. āShe never shouldāve been thereā¦!āĀ
Chrollo shuts his eyes. āWhat are you getting at, dear?āĀ
His words come out light, though theyāre anything but.Ā
āShe couldāve been me.āĀ
āYet she wasnāt.āĀ
āButā!ā Your voice cracks, so you take a deep breath and try again. āYouā¦ you deprive the world of people you couldāve come to like, be friends with, whatever! All for stuff you eventually do away with. How is thatā¦ how can youā¦āĀ
Righteous anger suits you. It's a sword and shield that requires no skill to wield, reaching for the instruments have become second nature. Their effectiveness doesn't matter so long as you can hold onto something.
āYou donāt need to understand.āĀ
This isn't a parry or pivot, he's disarmed you.
āHuh?āĀ
āYesā¦ if anything, itās best if you donāt,ā he mutters, more to himself than you. His eyes find yours again. āI canāt make sense of your empathy any more than you can grasp my lack of it. If I could, youād no longer be yourself. Your self-limiting, bleeding heart should remain as is. Itās the one part of you Iāll leave untouched.āĀ
You donāt know what you were expecting.Ā
You slump back into your seat. ā... Donāt you think youāre overestimating yourself?āĀ
āHardly,ā he replies. Then, in a softer voice, āYou torment yourself, love. ThisāāĀ
He rests his hand over your heart.
āāHurts you more than anything Iāve ever done. Yet you believe it unthinkable Iād do away with such an inconvenience.āĀ
āSo youāre a coward,ā you mumble. The insult is uninspired but it suits your purposes. āYou canāt handle it, so you took the easy way out.āĀ
āRationalize it anyway you'd like.āĀ
Chrollo reaches for your forearm and coaxes it into view. His fingers brush along your wrists, where the manās restraints left rope burn behind. The irritated skin is slowly recovering. The deeper wounds, those without a cure, will linger after the surface heals. Theyāre etched into your bones.Ā
āIsnāt going against your morals worse than having none?" Chrollo queries. āThat girlās father knew you had no involvement in his daughterās death. Youāre an unwilling third party, same as she was. And he was ready to hurt you regardless."
Your mouth feels dry. āHe didn't hurt meāāĀ
Chrollo raises an eyebrow, causing head to flood your cheeks.
āāAll... that... much. I donāt think he was going to...?āĀ
āNo, not until he was intoxicated enough to stomach it,ā Chrollo retorts. āWeāll never know for certain, darling. Thankfully, I interrupted before it could get to that point."
That point, that point, that point...
What could that man have done to you?
Chrollo appraises you like he's yet to decide on something.
After a moment passes, he leans in, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. Your muscles stiffen as he pulls you close. He exerts none of the force you know him to be capable of. The gesture's languid nature gives the impression you could wriggle free if you tried. You don't test this theory. Chrollo's mood seems pensive, not amorous, hence your hesitant compliance.
He speaks your name. Then, he asks, "What's really bothering you?"
Biting your lip, you turn your head away from him.
He doesn't relent. "You can tell me anything, you know."
If you weren't so utterly exhausted, you might've laughed.
"You wouldn't be my first choice for a heart-to-heart."
"How about your second?"
You look at him like he's just suggested the world is flat. He smiles softly, allowing you time to think.
It's weird.
This is weird.
The lack of verbal finesse, designed to extract any emotion or confession he desires. You're used to his cunning, his depravity, his unfiltered self. You've come to expect it, as one would the sunrise and sunset. Briefly, you search for it. The expedition is futile. His normal tells are gone.
Truly, you could almost forget the imbalanced nature of this dynamic and pretend it's normal.
It isn't, however.
So you'll need to keep your wits about you.
"Could... er..." you trail off, uncertain of the best parlance, "Will something like that... happen... again...?"
The claustrophobia of being shut in a trunk. Blindfolded, hands and feet bound, gagged by a rag. Terrified and sobbing. Unable to breathe, unable to scream.
You feel as small now as you did then.
The man told you his reasoning. It tugged on your heart. Wringed the organ for everything it was worth. He deserved justice. He deserved revenge. At that lone instance, the playing field was even. The immeasurable gap in strength between him and the Phantom Troupe's boss meant nothing if Chrollo wasn't physically present. There was a chance for this bereaved father to return the pain unfairly inflicted on him.
But why on you?
Why do you have to be cast into hell for the sins of another?
And why was it so tempting to forgive the devil's transgressions against you, if he provided salvation just this once?
You don't know when you began shaking, but you do know it won't be easy to stop.
"You must've been scared," he murmurs.
This observation makes your throat feel impossibly tight, as if a serpent coiled around your neck. His eyelashes flutter shut and he rests his forehead against yours. He contents himself on breathing in your air while you wrestle with the odd intimacy of it all; this simplicity untainted by needling or provocations.
"I never make the same mistake twice," Chrollo eventually says. "In light of recent events, I've made it clear that you are off limits. Those who still wish to try their luck, well..."
The air itself writhes like a malicious entity. The sensation is brief, but the impression lingers, chilling you on a primordial level. You're reminded that his control, while impressive, isn't flawless. Every surface can fissure, allowing the noxious contents contained within to break free. This concentration of ill-intent isn't even focused at you. To be on the receiving end must be to face the inevitably of death.
"... They can be made examples of too."
Curiosity nips at your heels, demanding satiation.
Your part your lips.
Then his eyes reopen. They're dull, lacking any illumination, like light itself felt the urge to flee.
It's an understandable sentiment.
For that reason, you decide some questions are better left unanswered.
So, to be clear this is a HxH LEAK (but likely real) so take it with a grain of salt, and know it's also a spoiler... Click this if you want to see it!
Papercraft commission of Chrollo (and his indoor fish!), looking out over the city skyline as a heist unfolds below. This one had a lot of complicated layering, from the block-like buildings in the background to the scales of the long fish bodies, and I think the overall effect came out really neat!
it surprised me that all 4 of Sylus' fav dishes (the ones in this piece) in home system i found for now are all made of fish and other seafood. i guess that's what "kindred spirits" means :3
