When in doubt.. invite both.

[Kauket]

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Honshu, Bessō Miyasu, Awaji-shima City

After another long, exacting day aboard the Kansai, one defined by pressure, scrutiny, and unspoken competition, Revenant returned to her temporary abode with little delay. There was no rest to be had in this instance, only a metamorphosis once more.

She exchanged her attire for something more composed: regal, deliberate. A pristine white ensemble paired with a long coat, black gloves drawn neatly over her hands and forearms, yet some safety concealed beneath, some discrete protection. A small face mask concealed her features, while a white beret sat carefully atop her head. Her dyed hair was adjusted into something more orderly, though only barely. Chaos always trailed her, there was always a trace of disorder that refused to be tamed.

From her belongings, she retrieved one of her personal drones, a small crab-like creation and nestled it within the inner lining of her coat to neatly rest within. A slender cane followed, elegant and unassuming, its concealed blade unnoticed within the structure itself. For a moment, she appreciated its secondary purpose, it still served well enough as support. Something she desired to rest on without being awkwardly displaced in conversation. Fatigue lingered beneath the surface of the mask. Her expression, though controlled, carried the weight of being jaded, worn down from the arduous days. It became masked beneath a practiced apathy, her half-lidded gaze disappearing entirely once the mask was secured.

There was comfort in the ritual to destress herself, to adopt a new identity. Presentation mattered. Cleanliness. Order. Even if artificial. It offered a sense of control, an image projected, a brief reprieve after the strain of near-fatal encounters and constant pressure. A way to steady the mind and gain focus. Contemplation. Cleanliness. A way to clean one's mental. A chip on the shoulder, one must always look ahead despite the many foes swimming in the ocean - how easy it would be to allow yourself to be consumed with vengeance in these trying times, she thought to herself.


Forward. Always forward.


With that, she retrieved a messenger bag, carefully placing inside a bottle of fine wine she had smuggled in from Gallia. Once originally to be saved as a treat for herself, now resorted to a calculated gesture, intended for Sanae and the serious discussion to come.

By the time she arrived at the Prime Minister’s secluded residence, she was already composed. She waited to be admitted to the home, posture relaxed yet precise, idly studying the smooth fabric of her gloved palm with quiet detachment. Her presence was… different. A posh demeanour, where chaos once lingered and free flow in her form and actions, there was now restraint. Poised. Controlled. Refined.

A version of herself Sanae would not be expecting.


"Mhm..."


She hummed as she was permitted to enter. She idly gazed around for a moment, inspecting the environment briefly.


"Sanae, my dear friend... " Her tone turned, the stoic tone remained as she became momentarily more serious. One could mistake it for concern with her phrasing.


...

A silent glare through the mask, her head slowly tilting in an endearing motion, both palms upon her cane as she slowly skewed her posture....

...

"You truly need to water your plants." Her monotonous apathy ever so slightly bent, teasing her to lighten the mood, a brief smirk could be heard under the face plate.

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