Vapors. Twisted and coiling tendrils erratically wisped around the area and into the very reaches of the sky like a tremulant beast. Its thin transparent filaments began creeping along in a ominous, flagrant warning, slowly filtered their way towards him like a thick fog, shrouding his vision momentarily and encapsulated him within the curtain of darkness as he was kneeling on the ground. Consternation ensued, and he felt every muscle and nerve inevitably cinch, chest becoming bound and constrained, lungs frozen as they labored for air. Hackles rose; he could feel it, the kinesthesia, just the way the brume swelled around him, almost as if he was asphyxiating and his eyes grew wide, the avoirdupois in the atmosphere suddenly caused an abrupt change in the barometric pressure, inducing his awareness to soon became elevated and fortuitously he became hyper sensitive.
Such had proliferated the only reaction he knew; apprehension. It was because of this, of the unknown that it was intrinsic, boring abyssal down to his very soul, even when he felt that all hope, all sanctity had been lost. That everything was finally coming to stake its claim upon his soul and the end was falling nigh, every ounce of credence evanesced, leaving him feeling nothing but forlorn.
It wasn't until after an incipient warmth had environed his visage that he soon came to raise up, crystalline white now adorning blanched flesh. Through blurred vision, amiss the rising effluvium and interminable pother that raged around him, his sole focus was on that feeling, its ataractic state making him forget the malignancy that only seemed to howl upon the winds in its affirmation to consume him whole. Though something vibrated within its dismal call...
Slender, gentle and loving fingers slowly began to materialize, the ethereal glow which surrounded them had cupped his cheeks within its incandescence and brought about a sense of serenity that soon conciliated all his fears and for a moment, he became rapt just by their tender nature alone. Something so familiar, so perceptible had pricked at his awareness, drawing his eyes to those hands which connected to something tangible yet pellucid, apparitional image comprised into form and soon his eyes met with those of equal facsimile. The cognizance caused a near fanatical reaction.
That voice... He knew exactly who it belonged to.
It was implausible, not concedable or just some duplicity of the mind, just a mere figment generated to instill doubt and madness. He just couldn't... There was no way...
He lifted up further, eyes now shrouded by a curtain of salty liquid that had long since defied the odds and began streaking down his face, its limpid movements drawing rivulets along his cool flesh and off his jaw. How... Could this be...? He searched for the source of the voice that sounded to clarion.
The imagery, it was so hypnagogic, as if his mind was playing tricks upon him. Yet, the very same picturesque likeness that he remembered so well encapsulated his entire vision. It was like staring into an almost perfect reflection of himself.
Yet, those dark, enchanting eyes, those that beheld so much adoration and benevolence was staring back into his own, and for unrequited moments all he could do was remain locked, unable to move as all his memories, everything that had haunted him for so long came back in a turbulent alluvium. What he was seeing, the very effigy of who he had long since accepted as defunct from the world, was the very thing who practically gripped his very soul. That smile, how could he have ever forgotten that?
The words glissaded off his lips before he was even aware, every part of him aching from the pain. From the bereavement he endured, his own arms reaching out for the very thing he had so suspired to touch.
“Is it really you?”
Every part of him burned, as if he was on fire, but a lingering coolness was retained on his flesh, even as those amorous hands continued to cup his face and kept a hold on him that seemed to extend through the variants of time. Though for him, just being in close proximity, even if such was excessively hard to presuppose that the very imagery before him was that of his long deceased mother, just to see her again, even if such was pseudo, for once it eased the tempest in his heart just to hear that melodious voice once more.
“Yes my son, it is really me. I have missed you.”
So hard it was, knowing that in reality, the person before him wasn't explicitly corporeal, but seeing the embodiment of the one whom had meant the most to him in his life only brought back a complete sense of paucity, that the emptiness he had felt for a good portion of his existence came rushing back, leaving him in a state of nearly faltering. Slowly he breathed and those ambiguous blue eyes resided on those browns he remembered oh so vividly, just the lucidity of it nearly startled him and he was taken aback, left to construe the meaning of the sight which stood before him. Oh how she seemed to glow with a metaphysical light. Faster those tears came; it was as if everything from his past was catching up to him and slowly, he was breaking.
“I have missed you too, mother. It's so good to see your face, oh how I have longed for this day.”
Like waves crashing upon the shore, everything came upon him at all once, the instant crash of emotions, the castigation he had long since felt levy to had all come down in a puissant tempest and as such, his life was finding its conclusion. But yet, the being before him could sense this, which caused him to withhold the objection he was feeling and divert his wayward mind as it transitioned to that of perspicuity which left him with a better sense of understanding under the current circumstances. It was just so hard to parse everything that he was going through.
“As have I my sweet boy, you look almost the same as I last remember.”
Those phantasmal fingers never left his face, their warmth only pullulating fondness and altruism, the permeation of it into his very being bolstered a sense of allay to his underlying torment. He could see that smile only broaden on the ghost's translucent lips, though she was prominent to his mind's eye. Instinctively, as if her touch was indeed, real, he leaned into it, the small rivers evident upon his skin.
“You are as I remember you too, mother. Just like the very last time I saw you, right before everything that happened.”
It was in that moment where the figure's awareness perked his own and his gaze met the eidolon's own, though only that softness to her expression fostered in abiding his mitigation and repose. Though he was unable to retract, the pull too prodigious for him to avulse himself from, his focus retained on that of the efferent being, the words knelling in the air around him. It was so ambrosial.
The words echoed, soothing his crucified spirit, bringing attention towards the manifestation of his mother.
"Kurapika my son, you are anguished, I can see it in your eyes, even your soul, it's not at somnolence. Why are you allowing yourself to remain so afflicted?"
For a moment he fell into reticence, trying to find the will to compose himself, to formulate an explanation. He didn’t easily comprise an answer; the catechism in her eyes was enough to seize his own heart. The fear of making her feel disappointed and penitent sat in the back of his mind. His auroral eyes soon dulled, becoming lackluster as his buoyancy waned.
"Because I cannot seem to let go of all the pain in my heart, nor all the misery and purgatory I've been forced to endure. The knowledge of your death, our clan's slaughter has left me hollow. I... I can't move on. I have to see you and everyone else avenged."
As the words left his lips, the affable hue to her eyes spoke only of sadness and those fingers slipped beneath his chin, gently lifting his head up to meet completely at eye level, though the comity in those pacifying eyes; he couldn't help but feel mollified.
"Oh Kurapika, how it pains me to watch you so as you have lost your way and have found yourself astray in the darkness. This is definitely not what has been destined for you."
The affirmation only soon brought him about from his jaundiced state of mind, his expression becoming that of stupefaction; the very thought that his own mother who was murdered in cold blood could have such a equitable outlook on what happened to her, to everyone he had ever loved. Such only mystified him, left him struck with the contemplation of her own words and practically inquisitive on how such could have ever been considered. For him, it was beyond any illation.
"But mother, how can I simply ignore the fact that you and everyone else had been so callously taken away from me and that I have to live with the images, the horrification and atrocities which have been forever incised into my mind? Just the very aspect of how I found you... Found everyone else... Your eyes missing... Oh mother... I just don't have it in me to forgive..."
Faster the tears came; pools of crystalline began to form along the ridges of achromatic fingers as the thumbs were gingerly swiping away at the falling droplets that were leaving rivers down his pale cheeks. Without vacillation, he tilted into the touches, eyes having since fallen shut and become obscured from the world. Just the predilection and loving touches drew him down into a sort of vacuous stupor despite the apparition of his mother was determinate in soothing his interminable plights. It was just so hard knowing that even though she was currently there, it was for the interim and he would inescapably lose her again.
Fear of that wove deep into his heart - he didn't want to have to endure that all over again.
"My son, I know that resentment and bitterness laces your heart, but it worries me that you are allowing it to completely consume you and inexorably you will succumb to tenebrosity, which I fear will cause you to meet your own demise."
The air around them began to drop in temperature, slowly becoming hyperborean and he opened his eyes, though vision was blurred by the sheen of tears that assailed them, and allowed a vague glimpse at her. Soon he was met with anguish and distress, the revenant's expression having drastically changed and the sudden realization struck him down to the very core, feeling the culpability and stigma weave its way into his mind and he couldn't help but fluctuate beneath its burdens and weight.
"Still... How am I supposed to be able to do that knowing those who murdered you... And everyone else is still out there? Tell me how can I go on with my life with that kind of discernment?"
Saturninity descended around them and for that moment, he found the aptitude to notice the subjacent look in the spirit's eyes and were abyssal into the very core, finding that the same emotional turmoil of which wracked him did the same for her, though such was not due to her extirpation from the world, but for that of his own martyrdom. He could practically hear her pleas, their pleas, and those combined voices suddenly entreating him to stop in his vocation, in his condemnation. All the pain and lamenting and waves of sorrow emanated into the air around them and struck him again. But this time, he felt as he may crumble, body growing feeble from just the sounds of heartache alone. Was his clan really trying to convince him obviate?
"Kurapika, do you really think you can continue on like this and expect to still preside when it’s all said and done? Do you really believe this is what I want for you? What the rest of us want for you? It's never what we had wanted. I understand your pain and grief at having us taken away so suddenly from you and the burden of subjection you must feel because of it. But we don't want you to seek retribution for our deaths; we just want you to live."
Her very words, just the pronouncement which echoed like chimes upon the wind carried tried and true, though such was paramount, he found the notion hard to believe. Though the urgency of their will and their wish was stringent, he couldn't help but wonder why they would feel as such and why they wouldn't seek to aid his fortitude towards finding them peace through requital. It was disconcerting. And yet...
"After all that happened, especially knowing the very cause for your nihility still walks the face of the Earth, everyone one of you would find it acceptable of me to just let go of everything without seeking any form of justice? I mean... How can any of you be simply complacent with the fact that ultimately nothing is being recalibrated as a result?"
Those eyes, though diaphanous with their ever present altruism seemed to harbor a softness that he couldn't quite describe, though it was the same he remembered seeing in her express when she was... Alive. For a breadth of a moment, he was drawn in by her harmonious state, finding his mind abating from the amalgamated sensations that he was enduring. Something about her countenance, the look upon it spoke of a silent invocation, one he surmised was in hope of swaying his mindset, to innervate him onto a different path, one that he knew would be polar opposite of which he has long since now, traveled on. Though the intensity of such a lugubrious gaze caused his own heart to twinge; how he could remain so selfish, the very idea caused him to be sullen with himself. He already blamed himself for the probability of his clan's demise, for not being there when he made his iniquitous decision to leave the village, and now to permeate such again when they were practically imploring him to alter his ways, and not just for his sake, how could he simply ignore it?
"My son, we never wanted nor expected you to avenge our deaths. Granted, the circumstances that lead up to such events, or even thereafter, I took consolation in knowing you survived. To be honest, we all did and knowing that you were alive, that regardless of you being the sole survivor, you are the last of our people. If you was to die now and forego everything just for one moment of satiety in sake of extracting the very same that was done to us, then all will be lost. It is a dark and desolate path you now walk, and I fear for your soul. What you propose is a great sin, done in the very same light by the very same means. You truly have so much to hope for. So much to live for."
The limpidity of the situation, the efficacy of her words, just how true the meaning and coherence they held, it bore deep into his very being and he couldn't help but feel coercion behind it. The cacophony which arose around him had piqued his attention and caused him to feel an abrupt sense of infirmity, his mind reeling once again from his lack of concentration and all the bile started to rise in his throat. Once again he allowed his eyes to lock with the specter's own, and this time, he couldn't help but feel abashed.
"I... Am sorry mother. I never meant to make you think of me as such. All I ever wanted was to give you... All of you peace after everything that had happened. Never had I thought of what you would have wanted or desired, for all I sought was just a means to an end. But..." He began, practically choking on his own speech, his weeping only growing in severity, "There is still the fact of my... Feelings. These strange and errable sensations I have been experiencing. They are ones that I have been erroneously harboring for the very one who led the group which committed that heinous act against you. I... Don't know what to do anymore... I have been so flummoxed by it."
Those perspicuous digits, after clearing a majority of the glassy trails from the surface of his cheeks, now swept beneath his chin, raising his head up to be more level with her own gaze, those piercing browns now seemed to perforate down into his very soul. For a moment he was taken aback, his golden tresses being swept back by her other hand, though the admission was nothing but tender. Everything about the way his mother looked, just her seraphic nature alone; nothing had changed from what he once knew and remembered her as. The simple gesture made him propitiate and he quietly abdicated.
"Let me ask you this; do you believe what you may be feeling could be for any particular reason? That maybe, just maybe Moirai may be trying to acquaint for all the infelicity and misery you have suffered? It's pained all of us to watch you as you have, and yet, perhaps divinity may be presenting a different outcome for you that would prove to be much greater and constructive than ever before? As much as those sentiments and feelings may be foreign and or idiosyncratic, we will never renounce or disown you, should you enact upon them. So long as you're happy, that is all I could ever want for you Kurapika. All any of us could ever want."
It was so much information to process, so much to take in and accede to. Though his mother had never once led him astray, just hearing the confession that she would support him in all his endeavors, down to the very one of which he had nothing but asperity towards, not only stunned him, but left him divaricated from belief such was the case. Still, was it possible that, not only did they wish for him to live, but to find happiness wherever possible? Even if that meant doing so in the one thing he had despised for so long?
"But... How can you say that? After all that has been done, and continues to be done, can someone like him even be capable of fostering sympathy, compassion and or love for anyone aside himself? Do you realize what you are saying?"
The clamor of his own voice and the underlying rancor etching his words caused him to wince and he instantly retracted under her still loving gaze. "I... I am sorry mother; I didn't mean to be so harsh towards you."
Again, those genial fingers of hers continued to remain almost feather light beneath his chin, keeping his leveled position so that he could see down into the very depths of her alluring eyes. One thumb began to stroke delicately along the side of his jaw, its sweeping motion doing nothing but appease his growing fears.
"You do not have to worry. I understand your fears, your concerns and your reluctance. Such is normal and I could never fault you for it. At the current, from the look in your eyes to what I feel that resides down in your soul, to which you cannot hide from me my son, I am your mother after all," Such a jovial smile graced her lips, her translucid frame, though incorporeal, came close to his own and her embodiment brought him to her and embraced him, one hand now carding through his blond locks, "I can tell there has been a recent surge of emotions within you. Despite you are in contest with it, from what I can sense, you have began to question if what you have been experiencing is indeed, potentially real or tangible. Again as I have stated, perchance what you could be going through, all those innervations and experiences could just very well be divine intervention. Just as such could be said about me."
As she allowed her words to process, such was the same for her as she took in the very real distinction that her son was struggling with the notion of her asseverations. But, decidedly it was time to intercede, revealing the truths to him for hope of impeding from following down his current path which would surely lead him towards nothing but death and destruction. The insight as such would be the case if he wasn't culled from persisting with his uncouth decisions. This inlaid not only apt concern, but unease with the fact that it was only a matter of time before the prediction would come to pass. Surely the last thing she or the rest of the deceased Kurtas wished was for their last of their kind to egress from the world and repudiate their legacy. If saving his life meant committing him to the one thing which she knew currently went against his standards, then so be it. So long as his survival and happiness was ensured, everything else was irrelevant.
Utilizing his taciturnity, she pressed on, "Don't refute what you are experiencing just yet my son. Let things unfurl as they may and the winds guide you upon your journey. Mourn not for us as we have already found our peace, but you still have yet to find that ataraxia in your life, and until you do, you will never find the solace you so deserve. The very thing which may give you that outlet may just be right before you and ask yourself; are you able to hold esteem for that which you value if you cannot envision clearly? I have seen his recent proclamations towards my son; such isn’t as execrable as it may seem."
Even as he stood, practically leaning listless against her chiffon frame despite her cadaverous like appearance, there was something concretizing about her touch, about her embodiment. It felt so palpable, so genuine. Just like the words spoken. He apperceived no deception or farce from what she had spoke and the emotions perceived also felt forthright, as if he was standing before her for real and not a mere simulacrum projecting her likeness, emotions and mindset. Still something about it... About her... Could it be possible that perhaps she had indeed, come back from the grave just to see him one last time? That her love was so strong, so infused with vivacity and esprit that it gave her enough verve to be able and materialize before him in hopes of saving his life, his soul? So many possibilities and yet, the only thing he could rely on was the fact that even if such was mimeo or authentic, one thing was for certain - his mother was here and now. It was an indubitable fact that gave him a semblance of comfort.
Despite being weakened, filled with dejection at her loss while he stood in her presence, the latent meaning that it conveyed was enough to garner insouciance in his own state of mind and soon he found himself becoming quixotic.
"It's just hard, so hard to comprehend, to understand, and even accept that such is permissible, even by your standards. I know the path I have chosen is a desolate and tragic one; but if such is your wish and the wish of our people that I... I find a way to move on then, I will. I just don't know if I can really allow myself to find happiness in the root of the cause, however. I just... Really do not know if that is something I can ever learn to accede to."
Fingers swept so imperturbably through his tresses, pushing them back and away from his blue eyes, her own searching intently within his, militating the authenticity of her merit, only wanting what she knew was best for him. It was almost as if he could sense this just by the gesture alone, and as such, he easily capitulated.
"Do not rush things my precious boy; things will happen in their own time if you allow it. Given the chance, everything will work itself out and for your mind to calm and achieve that level of resolution; it can only be ascertained within empathy and tranquility. Forcing things will only create a negative backlash that will not extrapolate the desired results."
It was hard to resist. Nay, he couldn't and didn't want to resist. As much as it petrified him that he could or would lose all his volition and tenacity, the very aspect of everything finally coming about full circle, of conciliating and ending his perpetually demoralizing situation left a bit of an inveigling pull that he was finding was slowly winning him over. Just the nature of the situation, the constant behest of his mother's own voice and how she wanted to intercession in hopes of stopping the vicious cycle of which he was recurring in was enough to warrant the justification of potential change. Regardless of the fact that such terms was still something he was finding it rather difficult to accede, knowing that she and the rest of his clan were in joint ratification of his survival had began to lead him towards the same sentiment. Perhaps this was what he really needed and that maybe it really was time to put his weary mind to rest.
"I wish I could formulate a complete understanding for this request, but I won't deny as such and because I don't want you or the rest of our clan to be incensed with me and or my choices, I will accept renunciation. For once, it will be nice to not have to live in constant entropy."
Her smile broadened, obviously ameliorated by his words. Slowly she backed away, her head tilted as she admired the vision of her son, taking in all his grace and valor, noting that he was still growing into a rather fine young man. Lucent digits unraveled from his frame and pulled away and her form began to gradually evanesce as her light started to fade, leaving him surrounded by shadows once more, though the angelus sound of her voice echoed through the night.
"I am glad to hear. Never forget what I have told you and know that I will always love you. Always face toward the future and never look back. Live, my son. Just... Live and be happy."
With the finality of her words, she was gone. For what felt like an eternity, he stood amid the ebonized scene were nothing existed, not even the vapors he remembered that surrounded him before his mother materialized. Silently, the tears fell as her voice rang clear and loud within his mind. It was at that point when adumbration had struck.
His heart had began to pestle within the confines of his chest; even his lungs agonized for air as the vividness of his dream came back in a unconstrained flood, leaving him nearly in complete distress. Kurapika sat completely buckram straight, the forced awakening from midst his slumber only caused him to reel, mind nearly neurotic from the practical catalepsy of the dream. Lithe hands came up and obscured his visage, leaving him almost wracked as the thought of his mother drifted through his mind. It was a lot to take in, so much to process and just the very notion of what was bestowed, the very prospect - the thought of potentially allowing the reception of his emotions, especially the ones he had been contrarian with in actually letting go of everything he had long since committed and vowed to see reach its culmination nearly broke his mentality. But at the beckon of his mother... And of his clan, all those voices and how they clamored for his will to live, to carry on and de novo within a new life, a new standing, he couldn't help but want to dedition to it.
For so long he sat there and ruminated over the very words of which his mother had spoken to him, remembering the perspicuity of her professions along with her pleas for him to dissuade from his current choices; never had he ever experienced such a vision that left him feeling so rattled so disabused and for once, just perhaps for once, he had finally began to see the portent outcome of the path he now traveled.
Even if such could be said was done amid a moment of clarity, for him, it would take time to be able to come to terms with, for he knew that the current tasks he had taken on, the very same of which had given him so much reason to live would now be the ultimate cause for his downfall.
How it had come to this, Kurapika wasn't certain.
However the Kurta didn't want to refute or impinge on the wishes by both his mother and his clan. Just having heard their desires for him to simply surmount their passing and his own dogma gave him the reasoning he so desperately needed.
Moving on and finding a different walk in life, tossing away all he had ever come to know or learn would not be easy. For so long all he had known was the choler in his heart, which had been ingrained so deep, it would take time to negate. Change was good, change was necessary, but for one of this caliber, of this magnitude wouldn't come without patience and diligence, one he knew he had to foment if he was to succeed.
Reaching that point, well that was the key. The blond knew he needed the presidio if he was to even place the idealism into effect, which on the opposing side, would prove to be the most difficult as he was still perplexed with exactly on how to proceed, and on his own. He was nearly terrified at the notion, not only of the fact it was an insurmountable change, but also of garnering disappointment from his mother and his clan.
Then there was the fact that, even as much as he didn't wish to admit to it, but the admission she had made towards his recent erratic emotions, ones that harbored an entirely different meaning towards the one person of whom he had devoted to seeing condemned into purgatory like he was, had taken him aback. Her confession as well as her encouragement in him to see if anything developed between him and Chrollo Lucifer aside the nagging dissention left him feeling oddly conjectural.
Was it even possible that he was able to find love and or happiness in a person such as the leader of the Geneiryodan, himself?
It really was just so much to take in that Kurapika couldn't deal. Not at the moment. The world around him seemed to sway and for the time being, while he was attempting to allow everything he had just experienced to sink into his unsettled mind, the blond concluded it'd be best to sleep on it. Due to his current state, he was just in no real state to try and assess everything that had happened. There was just too much at the current to even attempt to really try and focus.
For how could he do so with knowing what could potentially end up becoming the inevitable?
With that notion, Kurapika settled on postponing his deliberation until he was in a better mindset to better rationalize and process all the information he had before settling on a final decision. There was a lot to think over, and considering all he had recently gone through and with how tense he had been, now was not the time for him to make a judgment call, that much he knew. For now, it would have to wait until knew for certain he could come to a proper conclusion without being completely inveigled.
He knew couldn't help the contention that flowed around him. Even for Chrollo it was a source of inner disunity, knowing that there was so much presumption of events turning sour that the raven-haired man couldn't think of anything astride the fact that protecting his own ventures was top priority. Granted he didn't want to sacrifice integrity just for the same of his own gratification. No. It was beyond that. Seeing all he's striven for, everything he worked so hard towards and that his current standpoint was becoming that of near absolution, the only thing that mattered most was seeing all his efforts come to fruition and succession.
For him, it was a matter of continuing to construct that foundation and enhancing the believability of connecting trust, even if the ultimate goal was to win the boy's heart despite a master thief such as himself he could have easily stolen it. But such was fornenst to the actual point; even if he wished to display a semblance of honesty, substantiating that idea would only further solidify the fact that he was only seeking to integrate the young Kurta into his life with earnest, while attempting to provide him with another more viable reason to come into the fold and find another more satisfying life then which he currently held. This was something Chrollo had long since noted had only filled with sorrow and despair. Not only would it be an insurmountable loss and a great pity if the last remaining Kurta in the world was to perish and by his own hand, but also to lose such great potential as well as a likely valuable partner, such was to say it was something the Geneiryodan leader wasn't willing to risk.
Then there was the prospect of his emotional attachment and romantic feelings which was beginning to manifest. Such was to say he was finding himself becoming more and more entrenched with the blond by the day. Granted he had more than one reason for his objective in attempting to persuade the blond into coming to his side - it wasn't just for the sake of his own benefit or for the Geneiryodan, but also for that of the boy's own welfare. At the current, Kurapika was parlous, not only to himself but to his Spiders as well. Though such didn't even end there; for some reason unbeknownst to him, Chrollo felt the compulsion to protect the blond as a strong budding sensation to prevent any calamitous effects from bestowing itself upon the boy seemed to reign strong. Perhaps it had to do with his recent emotional sway, as he had noticed the alteration with his outlook towards the Kurta had been a drastic innovation.
Not that such a change nonplussed him in any way. Quite to the contrary it only heightened his determination.
Considering who he was and how most of his entire life had been laid out, the good, the bad, though widely accepted this was a newfound sensation that Chrollo thoroughly enjoyed. Sure, he had partners in the past, though none of which were ever worth mentioning or held their merit to him in any way and the one thing that he had never found with any of them was a latent connection of any kind. Because of that, he had become contented in his own idiosyncrasy, which was satiating at the time. But now, with this new development between him and Kurapika, he couldn't vouch such was the case. For Chrollo was beginning to realize the novelty behind the new transpiration, which was something he only wanted to see the ontogenesis of.
It was in laconic resolution which Chrollo had made the certitude of his decision; he would see his plans through, there was no turning back. Something inside himself clawed with determinate fervency, the voice too assonant for him to simply ignore, even as the notion of his own heart fluttering in conjunction with the impetus drive such a voice was concussing him into and the fanatical need that soon followed was enough to enforce the raven-haired man to push forward in his endeavor. He simply couldn't get the beautiful young Kurta out of his mind.
Never had he felt this way before - even considering the fact of what partners he had in the past, none of which amounted to much of anything or even held a candle to the very transcendence that the blond possessed. The boy was truly blessed in more ways than one, though Chrollo was certain it was something that he was sure Kurapika was completely oblivious towards. No matter, one way or another, he would open up the blond's eyes and show the boy just how serious, how intent he was, even if it meant sacrificing the means necessary to reach such a consummation.
Even now as he knew that the precarious Kurta was close by, his presence not entirely well esoteric, the resolute man continued on as if he was still unawares, and enjoying the thrill of this hunt that the bond had initiated what seemed so long ago. It had been quite a few months since this grandiose venture had started and in the measured amount of time the two had spent engaged within this game of cat and mouse had given enough time that was prerequisite for Chrollo to have adequately changed his entire perspective on the given situation and for his desires to vastly change towards the Kurta.
It was like night and day, just was the same between them. Even as he watched the robust young hunter out of his peripheral vision, calculating and excogitating, those eyes focused so intently on him as he sat quietly upon a park bench amid a flourished and palatial garden, the blooms having attracted an astronomic gathering of people who had more than likely came to see the luscious efflorescent display had gone almost unnoticed by the Geneiryodan leader, as he was too immersed in the book of which rested in his lap and that the fact the decisive blond he so eagerly sought was only a few mere kilometers away.
Despite the milling crowd around him, the feeling of how the Kurta's eyes roved over his body, the heat and temerity, yet a thin vein of venereal astriction which left an overtone just beneath had caused a faint grin to evince over the older man's lips. Good. It seemed that Kurapika was beginning to feel the same dynamic pull that he was. Just a few more steps and Chrollo was fairly confident he would be able to convince the Kurta to his side. Just the rewards, the predilection of it, the very notion that the most ravishing and seductive creature he had ever laid his eyes on could very well be his was enough that the older man could almost taste it.
With that in mind and the simple fact that he was so close to implementing the last steps towards his objective was enough to facilitate his adjudicature in proceeding with that sooner than expected. The results of his past attempts were already strumming along and quite nicely. Chrollo had noted he was making sufficient and eminent progress with the blond, such that was seen currently as satisfactory. It was enough in his mind to advance the next step in his objective.
He had already mapped out in great detail the outline of his progress and design long ago, having since predicted in rough estimation exactly on how and where this was going to play out. Considering how smoothly and efficiently the situation was progressing and at a faster rate than was expected, Chrollo noted that his plan had been turning out better than he expected. The idea only added to his confidence that the inevitable would occur where he would find the boy willfully coming to his side and with hopefully the desire to be something more than just a comrade. But such didn't worry the raven-head as much as he thought it would for he was fairly confident that despite the ongoing dissonance the boy was going through, there was an overture, an exordium beginning to facilitate something more passionate, more physical, and possibly emotional in the young Kurta. Chrollo was able to sense it just recently and even now as the blond was relatively close enough that he could feel the boy's presence, such continued to reign true. Despite there was that slight possible backlash his acts as of late may have produced, it was still countervail to which again, seemed to prompt a more positive response to his implications then not.
This only furthered Chrollo’s drive, for as fortuitous as the situation was presenting, he knew there was still a need to be meticulous and breviloquent but it was still promising. He just knew to keep the situation from becoming too convoluted as such could put a strain on all his efforts and axiomatically drive Kurapika away.
Chrollo abstractedly stroked his digits over the long, but thin box which sat beside him, cogitating over the many possible outcomes his next step could conceivably bring. He knew it was in part, risky with his next chosen gift to present to the blond, considering the nature of item in question. But at this point, with how incomparably far he had come, well, there was just no going back. Not that Chrollo actually wanted to as the kismet of his desired outcome was just too monumental. If he didn't place any faith in his own wagers then he would have lost from the get go. Gambling as such like he was now was most definitely something that the master thief was not new to and this was just another venture like any other, but with way more invested.
Thoroughly satiated and finally growing narcoleptic of dealing with the increasing crowd of people that were still proliferating around him, Chrollo firmly closed the book that peculiarly enough, he had deviated from reading when he had succumbed to his musings and expeditiously glanced off to his side to see that the blond was still studiously watching him. Though still superimposed with that strange dusty hooded article he had seen the blond wearing nearly constantly since finding him in Ti'alma, which as usual was meretricious, it didn't conceal the boy as well as he thought it did, but no matter. He simply stowed away his book and stood, though his eyes never wavered from the blond's figure as to track his reactions and of course as predicted, the Kurta bristled, posture having changed from being more reposed to taunt and rigid.
Smiling confidently, the Geneiryodan leader casually picked up the red lipped box and turned, waiting for the crowd to inspissate, knowing that yet again, he was going to have to ditch his stalker if he was going to be able to acquire the time necessary to make the delivery he needed to without being detected, lest he wished to add direct confrontation to the list of things he didn't want to occur. At least, not at this point, anyway. Still, it was safe to say it would be a fair assessment that such an outcome could happen if he allowed any of his actions to become fallible from negligence. It was definitely a position he had to consider avoiding.
Imperceptibly, the flow of people continued to swell and increase, giving Chrollo the aril necessary to merge into the throng, but the amplitude needed to maneuver around without the threat of being trampled. As he backed into the overflow, he could see the blond try to decussate the distance needed to stay in close enough proximity, but the raven-head was faster and more nimble then his precious Kurta was and easily surpassed the other. As he slowly faded into the masses, the older man watched in amusement as the boy's face became constrained with frustration as he realized that he was losing his quarry again. Chrollo just simply evanished without a trace, leaving the boy behind to vacillate on what happened and for the criminal mastermind to proceed with his plan unhindered.
Kurapika grunted - the midday sun alongside the barometric pressure and the high temperature had caused him some incommodiousness, and he shifted awkwardly within the spot which he stood. It also didn't help that he had eaten not long prior to taking his vantage point and the torridity of the day was making him a bit nauseous. Though gratefully, it wasn't enough to make him throw up the contents of his stomach, but the swelter certainly didn't help. There was just too much amassed moisture in the air for him to simply ignore the humidity.
But like any other day, he had to embark on what was becoming or rather had become a practical daily routine for him to seek out and supervene his mark, Chrollo Lucifer, who was leisurely mitigating on a bench within a park designated to showcasing a rather lush garden, one that the Kurta had acknowledged was uncannily evocative of back home in the Lusko Province. There were so many flora that he recognized which was unequivocal to those that grew in the forests he remembered from when he was a child, and seeing the landscape was almost analeptic. Though as much as the young Kurta wished to reveal in past anamneses, there was still his objective at hand, one of which, even if being here now held now more than one reason, he still had to retain some form of focus. However, it was hard by its own right to not peregrinate, his thoughts still revolving over the events of the prior night and the emotional dream where his own mother came to visit him and just how much of an impact it left on him.
Everything she had spoken, through a lot of what was intoned had been uplifting, even down to the very fact that she had interceded that not just her, but with the rest of his clan there was a collective desire for him to continue on living. However, such meant annulling everything that he had long since resolutely committed to in order to find his niche in the world wherein he could pursue happiness. It was something he still fluctuated on, but how beset her prayer was, just the desperation and fear she held for his own wellbeing and the fact that he really was traveling down a path towards ultimate destruction was enough for him to severely consider her words, for it had been her wish as well as the wish of his kin for him to not expire and leave their existence to fade into a shadow of a memory.
Although, one thing he found prominent was the fact that his mother had alluded towards that of his wavering emotional discordance he was having towards the one person of which had been the focal point for all his troubles. Though as of late, that very same opinion had become questionable despite the fact that the implication was becoming worrisome. He was still having a difficult time processing the fact that his mother had more than just implied his connectivity to the older man, but it seemed as if there was adumbration behind the meaning, almost as if such an outcome had long since been delineated for him. Whether or not it was verity was an entirely separate matter. In any regard, he was still having a hard time processing the very notion despite his mother's reassuring wisdom. How she believed he would be able to find happiness with someone like Chrollo Lucifer was something he still found incomprehensible. But there was a small part of him to discept over the idea, not completely rebutting it.
Kurapika shivered at the thought, in both adversity and curiosity.
Ever since he experienced that vision, his mind had been itinerant over exactly what kind of life could be attained with someone like the raven-haired man he had been so expectantly stalking for practically three months now. Thinking back on it, just the type of person Chrollo Lucifer was and the kind of lifestyle the man led as he requisitioned a group of thieves to marauder, pilferage, ransack and murder only made the idealism that much more insane. What he didn't realize was the darker voices that had recently hypostatized within his mental state had become impelling, one again trying to invoke a fracas amid his thoughts. Both his subconscious and awareness once again began to quarrel and Kurapika was finding it difficult once again to concentrate. While he tried to focus on maintaining attentiveness to the head Spider's actions, he also found himself embroiled in conflict, the more nefarious aspects of his mentality indulging on the very concept that there very well may be a prospect to be had by becoming involved with the older man and that regardless of the erratic lifestyle he chose, the boons could certainly outweighed any cons.
"It doesn't matter what his status is, he could offer you so much more than anyone else can! Can't you see that?"
"Of course there may be blood stained on his hands, but you could potentially change that. Your influence should be enough along with your determination."
"You've got to let go! You will die otherwise! Don't you want to live like your clan wants you to?"
"He has offered so many incentives and given so many reasons to be considerate of the fact he may potentially have a genuine interest in you."
"His gorgeous eyes and that alluring smile, by the Gods don't you feel the pull he has upon you?"
"You wouldn't have to be lonely anymore. Granted your friends have given you their camaraderie, but I know that hasn't been enough. You still want more, so much more. There is a yearning in your heart and you crave for his love, don't you?"
Kurapika closed his eyes, his body becoming tremulous as the voices continued their clamor, the vociferation echoed in his ears and the upended Kurta was finding himself becoming less and less cohesive, every part of him feeling as if he was coming undone at the seams. For some time now he had been battling with his own subconscious and he was at the point of becoming totally unsure of what to do anymore.
For Kurapika, he felt as if he was becoming lost amid a sea of consternation and tribulation.
Clutching at his chest once he realized that his lungs had begun to agonize for air as he panted heavily, the Kurta attempted to push back all the arduous thoughts plaguing his mind along with the persistent voices as he once again attempted to regain his lost composure. For now, he concluded that perhaps it was best to reconstitute his objective and resume his efforts at a later time, conceding to the fact he probably needed rest when suddenly realization struck and he caught sight of the older man having already stood from his perch and began merging into the amassed throng of people that had converged on the beautiful and verdant garden.
In the time it took the blond to hew through the confluence, the other man was gone. He had just simply evanesced and Kurapika found himself placing his face into his own hands in exasperation.
Ambling into his hotel room, Kurapika was still distraught over the events that had just taken place. Such left him rattled, enervated. First it was dealing with the aspect of enciphering exactly what his mother had been trying to entail him with her reassurance in finding happiness and will to live, yet insinuated that she nor the rest of his clan would renounce him if he actually found said happiness with the very one he considered his enemy. Something about what she had stated which hit the young blond considerably hard was her cognition on his recent interplay with the head Spider and the fact that her mention of the man's possible care for him may have been something he had actually been exhibiting towards Kurapika. Especially in the notation of the gifts that had been left for him not long ago. But even in light of such plausibility, the blond was still unable to come fully to terms with the revelation.
The very aspect had left him vertiginous; most of him had fallen completely anesthetized, finding it very difficult to cope with the most recent turn of events. Frankly, he had been struggling with the entirety of his situation and all subsequent outcomes since he began this little escapade, just now realizing that it felt as if his situation was just progressively getting worse. There were times - such could even be said now, where he questioned why he continued on with this fatuity of his, almost deciding that this entire endeavor was nothing but a farce and was turning out to be more trouble then it seemed to be worth. He was almost to the point of considering seceding from the entire mess and just being done with it so he could just go back to his normal stature and daily capering with his friends. It was also the very same thing that he had begun to realize was an aspect he really start to miss from his life.
Those very aspects were just another strike against his reasoning for just gallivanting off on a farcical exploit that he had really no true idea of exactly what he was getting himself into. This in the end had entailed much more than he actually bargained for.
Each time however, when he tried to rationalize that continuing to proceed on with his objectives was offering no restitution, each and every time his conscious would awaken with nothing but rebuttal, constantly giving him confutation that only ended up staying his hand. Such was the same now, even as he still pondered over why he continued to remain.
The more and more he thought on it, the further Kurapika delved into believing that underneath it all that Chrollo Lucifer had something to do with it. Every time the situation came back full circle it always seemed like that infernal man was always the one who intercepted it. How this went from the blond who when he began this little venture as the predator, the challenger was now an accessory, the prey.
Kurapika shivered at the notion. The very aspect that the stalker had become the stalked, and how every idea, every thought, every sensation, just the outlook of it had nearly brought the young blond to his knees. Yet as always, something continuously staunched his ability to abandon his position.
As such, he stayed and persisted on in hopes of a peripety where things would finally tip in his favor. All he could do was hope.
Sighing ingloriously, he meandered through the moderately sized living room and into the bedroom, settling on a warm shower to clear his head before turning in. The aridity he was experiencing, especially from the lack of proper rest had began to catch up and left Kurapika feeling unstable. For a moment, through unfocused eyes, he managed to come abreast the bed and began loosening the cords to his cloak, casually tossing the favored item upon the sole chair within the room and settled down upon the mattress when he caught sight of something out of the outermost range of his vision, it having easily grasped his attention.
What he saw caused him to esprit descalier because it was almost unbelievable, even for him.
There upon his meticulously made bed sat another gift, though this time it was just a single, square and unadorned box with a red lid. With trembling hands, Kurapika picked up the box and hesitantly removed the lid, though what soon followed caused all the air to expend from his lungs, his eyes going wide with complete shock and for a fleeting moment, the blond felt benumbed.
"It... Cannot be..." Was all the stupefied blond was able to utter.
A tremulous hand slipped down inside and what ended up sitting betwixt digits was one thing that had sent such a violent spasm through him and leaving him virtually breathless was one object that he would have never expected to ever see again, much less possess. But what struck him with such ferocity was the meaning behind the very item which he now held.
Kurapika's mind just seized as he brought the object close, instantly recognizing its authenticity. Breathing heavily, chest tight and constrictive, fingers curled around an intricately woven gold necklace that coiled and twisted with knots separating from a few inset red crystals, the very same which sat in the sole earring he wore. They were lined within spaced portions amid one section of the necklace while three hung from delicate gold chains between. The lone Kurta stared at the piece of jewelry for an indeterminate amount of time as he tried to process the situation before him, turning the fragile item from his past, his heritage over in his quivery hands, unable to desistance the now raging emotions he was experiencing. Not only was he disconcerted, Kurapika also felt a stab of anguish at just the very proposition he received the necklace – which was obviously stolen but was a clear profession of one reason and one alone. Not only was it an artifact from his clan, but it was also given between people in his village as a declaration of love.
How something like this could be happening to him, the blond was unable to parse or comprehend in any way. At the point which he was transfixed in, all that he was able to differentiate between was the simple fact that Chrollo Lucifer was behind this newest ontogeny, and just like he knew the very same recidivist criminal that caused him to battle incessantly with his emotions over was definitely the source of the last gifts he had received. Though the prior ones were more mundane, this... This was completely staggering.
Whatever optimism the egregious man was trying to incur, Kurapika would have none of it. At first he passed off the thought of the bastard's intentions as mere infatuation. But now it was becoming borderline obsessive and lubricous.
Although, within the back of his mind, the voices raised in clangor once again, astringent in their biting denigration. Between his consciousness and awareness, the dissension on whether or not the Geneiryodan leader's intentions were true, that his incentives weren't laced with prevarication and he was simply relaying an expression of romantic desire was still left for deliberation. Once again, the words of his mother echoed through his mind and Kurapika was simply at a loss for words. He was just too afflicted and drained to even process his circumstances anymore.
Expelling a laden sigh, the blond replaced the one piece he had left from his past aside his tribal clothing carefully back in the box and placed it gently on the nightstand. Though as he backed away, preparing to turn and recrudesce in his attempt to finally shower and wash away everything that had interminably plagued him, deep ceruleans landed on the vase of roses that the young Kurta hadn't been able to bring himself to dispose of. For a long moment and what seemed like a ticking to eternity, he stared at those vibrant and beautiful blooms, almost ensorcelled by them and for a split second all his cynicism and indignation succinctly abated where the blond soon found himself reaching out towards those flowers, stroking them almost reminiscently, fondly as a few streaks of crystalline began to leak from the corners of his eyes. Moments later, Kurapika retracted, though collected once more and with salience, he stood, only glancing back momentarily at the vibrant red roses before finally making his way into the bathroom.
At this point and in aphonic obstinacy, Kurapika knew what he had to do.