『◆; υѕυαl locαlιтy』

kannonai:

        _{^{███【 GL✖TCH 】❞     It’s of little concern to him, whether or not she makes the arrangements for trade or a family member does, the events transpiring beyond wooden barricade not for his viewing pleasure and would remain as such for likely years to come. He is prevented from seeing trade in a world that is not ink and paper or word of mouth, told foreign relations are not his problem at given time and the people living within their rule that will be his charge once paternal figures are deceased are to be ignored for he has no say in their affairs.}}

        _{^{They set him up to fail and while spite will ensure he tries his hardest when time comes for throne, there’s no way of knowing right from wrong when he has not seen it.}} 

        _{^{❝Hnn. It matters; it always matters, everyone wants something.❞ Words are more to himself than her, quiet and perhaps even inaudible through door, reflecting briefly on past events that make her speech near laughably insincere from his perspective. Noiz’ experience with people dictates a firm belief in such—an extra hour outside of his room, a new book from the stores, a rabbit that parents do not know about and the means in which to care for it: all a trade. A suggestion given to prince that is followed up later with differing ways of saying ‘you owe me’, the goal behind actions all along and he has merely come to accept that in this world there is no free, no charity; there’s bargaining, and manipulation. It’s a sad place, when he thinks about it, but Noiz will opt to simply go with the flow of the world’s rotation, rather than attempt to fix what cannot be mended, too broken to repair. ❝It’s not a big deal; I’m used to it.❞}}

        _{^{Used to it, but not a fan of it. He will never be a fan of being locked away, a “menace” kept from view of all including family except on the rare occasions in which they need him wandering about, or out of the castle completely. Strangers are not, however, someone he is so quick to spill his guts too—and even if they were, he hasn’t a clue where to begin.}}

          A huff _{slips, and frustration is inevitable, as she merely desires to help he whom sits beyond door. But he doesn’t want her help, it seems—-the seeming fact though not fazing spare as she assumes herself able of assistance regardless. Thus is patience a virtue, figure shifting slightly to lay weight against timber before sliding body gracefully to sit against barrier.}

                    _{❝Used to it?❞}

   _{It could be nostalgia if not a painful recollection, for a sense of empathy fuels motives even if situation holds scarce similarities. He’s certainly lonely, isn’t he? No one wants to be alone–at least, not all the time, and she finds difficulty finding this heir as an exception to the thought. They could be friends, she thinks… eventually—-she’d first have to find way of convincing him, and then conjure method of not finding frustration in filter-less dialogue.} 

                    _{❝—-You shouldn’t be used to it. C'mon, don’t be stubborn!}

                      _{I mean… I can help you out, y'know. I’m sure I can figure out something.❞}

   _{Her volume increases for she wholeheartedly commits self in helping heir–whether he wants her help or not.}