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"Mon ami, I could look at your face all day! However, I'd like to peer in that mind of yours instead since you appear to be thinking deeply right now!" Rook smiled that cordial smile of his while his shadow towered over you, his face leaning so close to you with his arms folded behind his back politely.
The Pomefiore vice dorm leader knows he's always like this to you, being creepy and all as he fawns over your indifferent expression. He can't help it, though! You're like those "ice queens" he's seen a fair share in the poetry he reads that seeing such trope to him up-close just makes his heart beat madly! Not to mention, he can't tell if you're mute or just awfully silent because you seem to rely on bitter expressions to put your point across. It really adds character...!
Even when you're already this beautiful to him, unlocking your heart to reveal your inner beauty is a much more heart-throbbing prospect to him. Oh, how he wishes to shoot you down with a Cupid's arrow. Luckily though, he's a very patient man ever since the beginning.
If it takes days, weeks, months, or even years for your heart to blossom, then he wouldn't mind in the slightest bit. The more the time is, the more satisfying the reward is in the end.
At the moment, his eyes are set on your (color) notebook with elegant decorations that complement it. You hold it so dear to you which meant that thing has to be a key to progress things with you. He tried so many times to peek at it without you noticing, but it failed. Every. Time. Stealing and taking a quick peek that way was his go-to at first, however there was never an opportunity for him to do so.
Perhaps a direct and bold approach, yes? That is why he's here pestering you at the courtyard right now. Shameless as he is complimenting your every feature as if you're a deity — which you are to him — he's practically coaxing you to show him even a glimpse of the concealed pages.
"..." you finally looked up from your writing to see that you're a breath away from his face. Your mouth opened to mimic a sigh as you roll your eyes and simply shoved the open notebook to his face.
Rook accepts it with gentle grace. He was surprised for a brief second with your sudden action, but it melted into a grateful smile, "Merci, mon Reine de Glace...!" he almost teared up but had enough restraint to prevent himself from doing so. You... You just gave it to him! It means you validate and trust him! He brings the pages close to his eyes, reading each and every... every...? He soon realized that it's all so incomprehensible to him, and perhaps, to everyone as well. It's no wonder you just lent it to him so easily!
"My! You truly are clever," he exclaimed, amused as his eyes scanned the pages, trying to make sense of whatever... this is, "Symbols? A cipher one must have to solve? No matter! If it's for you, chère, then it's a must for me," he hands over your notebook with a fixed resolve shining in his eyes.
He smiled as bright as ever before bidding you a farewell to go back to his dorm.
During the encounter, he's fully aware his heart wouldn't cease its erratic pulse.
/ /
Rook hides ever-so quiet amongst the greenery of the forest, his eyes are keenly trained at a familiar figure he encountered earlier. You, of course! He's awestruck at how you made a forest's clearing so beautiful with just your presence and the stark trail of moonlight bathing you. You write so peacefully on your notebook while you sat on a dead log, unaware of his own presence.
Even for the many times he's pestered you, you're just so blissfully unaware of how he likes — no, loves to you stalk you, especially when he discovered that this forest clearing is your safe space — a place you call as your own.
Now that hunter knows of the contents of your notebook, it's so hard for it to be erased from his mind. Odd symbols were drawn in methodical writing that he knew quickly that it's a form of code. You created it. He knows that for sure. You refined it for so long perhaps that you're able to write so quickly now without hesitations.
He knows you're capable of writing the common language of Twisted Wonderland judging by the fact he's read your written works from class, but it seems like you chose to write in another form of code so to be more secretive. And oh, how he likes to crack secrets! He wants to be able to read such symbols to the point he could even write poetry just for you with the symbols used!
A hypothesis quickly formed in his mind. If it's something you made, then you're bound to have a page full of guides and deciphers, right? Specifically, it has to be the first page because that'd make sense. Even if you're unpredictable so far, you have to have at least one faltering point. If not, then he'll just outwit you and improvise. None can ever beat a hunter. They can come close, but there's a reason why hunters always come out on top.
Just play with the prey, test their stamina, see how they— Oh! He's getting ahead of himself and his instinctive desires that he almost forgot that this is about your silly notebook full of thinly-veiled secrecy.
There's no way he can prove his hypothesis though, but if he were to steal it, then it seals the deal. All his countless attempts to steal it days or weeks ago were lacking effort, he knows. If he was a bit more elaborate, and a tad bit, to put it bluntly, underhanded, then there's a guaranteed success.
All he needs is just a bit of expertise from a certain someone.
"A fast-acting poison that induces deep sleep?" Vil, despite how indifferent he sounded, is quite intrigued with how the hunter asks him about poisons all of a sudden. He's suspicious, but to each their own, and he'd rather not meddle with the vice dorm leader for how eccentric his ways are, truly.
"Precisely, Roi du Poison!" Rook praised the dorm leader with stride. He makes no secret or even tried to be discreet with how he asks for the Fairest Queen's help.
"Hmph. And what do I expect in return when I help you with this scheme of yours?" the dorm head, too, doesn't hide the fact the well-known phrase "not everything is free" applies to, well, everything. This is life after all.
The hunter merely smiled — a smile that cannot be distinguished or even read, "If it interests you, personal intel from a certain student," he fully knows the effect of his words and how it'll affect the man in front of him.
Vil scrunched his eyebrows in disbelief, "Let me guess, you found a new 'prey' for yourself? Well, whatever you do is not my business," he sighed eventually, "You know what, this will be the first and last time I'll be roped in your schemes, Rook. Don't call for more help from me after this."
"Anyway, to the basement," Vil goes ahead, not bothering to know if the vice dorm leader followed or not as his heels click loudly against the floor.
Hidden relief flashes in Rook's eyes as he catches up, falling in stride with the stern dorm head. At least he didn't question much nor cared, otherwise he has no choice but to make the poison on his own, knowing that it will surely be inferior than what Roi du Poison makes.
In the hidden basement of Pomefiore, Vil switched the light switch on, revealing an intricate, yet simple brewing lab that seems to be previously used as seen by its unruly appearance which made the dorm leader frown in distaste, muttering to himself in annoyance before getting a cleaning rag.
Rook, knowing what to do for now, approached the half-filled glass potion bottle, closes it with a cork, and tucks it aside in the glass cabinet with the other potions, assuming no one will retrieve this forgotten finished product of theirs. After that, he cleans the rest of the glass apparatus carefully.
"Good," Vil commented as he puts aside the rag he's been using to clean the irritating spills left by some student. With everything back in order, he moves to a wooden cabinet and opens it which reveals a variety of ingredients some of which are rare while the rest are mundane things. He picks a bunch of specific items before closing the cabinet and heading back to the glass potion stand.
With his lab coat and goggles put on, the Pomefiore dorm leader does his hypnotizing skill of making potions, almost making it seem it's helped with the use of magic. But it's not. He's just that good.
After that long process, Vil handed the bottled potion to Rook.
/ /
He brandishes his tranquilizer gun and loads it with the darts that are filled with the sedative potion brewed from earlier. Rook rarely uses this gun since he'd rather do a sharp and clean shot using his bow and arrow instead, however he does use it in occasions that call for it such as when he has to face a large animal. Even that is rare because he usually overpowers such animals with just mere skills.
As usual, he hides behind the leaves of a bush, the muzzle of his dark tranquilizer gun peeking out. There in his scope, he's training the cross hair to your exposed neck. A dark smile makes its way to his lips as he readied his finger on the trigger.
"Dors bien..." he whispered quietly, his finger pulling on the trigger without fail. He observed the syringe dart whip past the leaves, creating a rustling noise that would have startled you if not for the fact the needle had already been plunged into your skin.
Like what Vil promised, you quickly dropped unconscious on your side, your notebook and magic pen falling as well when your grip automatically loosened.
As if you were his prey, Rook neatly packs his weapon before stalking out of the bushes and approaching your sedated figure. He sat on the log next to you as he brushes the unruly (color) locks that have fallen on your face. He's in awe at how peaceful you looked, especially for the fact you're so vulnerable right now...
But of course, his goal is your notebook. The hunter immediately picks it off from the grass and brushes any dirt that attached to it. Immediately after, he flips open the first page. Despite it being so awfully dark right now, the moonlight greatly helped him discern the contents of the paper.
And like that, his previous hypothesis is correct. It is a translation page. Eagerly, he takes out his notepad that he prepared and jots down what the page has to offer. Surprise, surprise, it's actually a really basic and simple language to interpret than having to learn Animal Language as a whole.
As the minutes went by, Rook slowly but surely managed to get a better grasp of the code you wrote. With enough confidence now, he flips to a random page and starts to decipher it, quite eager as he does so.
Such eagerness in him suddenly spiked up, though.
'The younger Shroud keeps on following me whenever Idia is in the same class as I... What an honest nuisance that boy is...' the entry read. He was confused at first until he remembered the many times you quickly walked along the halls with Ortho hovering a good distance behind you. The hunter thought the boy took a liking on you or perhaps Idia, but he's just confused now.
He read the next line, 'Ortho Shroud said that he has a criminal database installed into his system. He must have recognized me, then. Ugh, I can't shake that kid off.'
"Oh my...!" Rook gasped, amused at the indirect and blunt admittance of you being a possible criminal. He doesn't mind it, though. You're still you regardless...! But he needs to keep searching on what crimes you specifically committed because he's... now fascinated. He isn't disturbed or shocked. He just thinks it's great knowing something so dark about you.
Before searching further, he first jots down the entry he just translated so for him to look back on.
He flips onto the next page, 'The Shroud brothers reported me to the Headmage. Little did they know, Mr. Dire, along with the other NRC staff, already knew. They linked the disappearance of a nameless Savanaclaw jock to me, so they tried to closely monitor me after that. Despite such incident, they didn't bother telling the entire school populace in fear of scaring them and destroying the college's reputation for accepting me, a murderer.'
"Meurtrière..." the Pomefiore vice dorm leader whispered as he looked back to your sleeping face. Oddly, he smiled at you, knowing that he might be the first student to know the extent of your secrets and crimes, "You truly are surprising, Mon Diable," he mutters to himself amusingly as he looks back on your notebook. He decides to flip to a random page.
'Mr. Dire called me to his office for the fourth time now this week. He realized an unknown Octavinelle member just disappeared... oops. He's threatening me with expulsion which he could have done like months ago. If he were to expel and out me as an infamous murderer, then the school's reputation and the students' safety will plummet down. I'd still stay infamous, but the point is, I'm taking this school down with me if such event occurs.'
'I've been rotating the locations of my hidden weapons. I fear that some student or teacher might stumble across it. They'll report it to the Headmage and that whole fiasco of threatening expulsion will happen again. Everything dangerous and suspicious that's happening in the school is always connected to me. Every. Single. Time. I mean, they aren't wrong!'
Then as he skipped a couple pages, he stumbled across what looks like a page dedicated to him. It also looks recent because it's six pages away from the current one you're writing.
'Rook Hunt proves to be unsettling as ever, disturbing me as I write this entry. What infuriates me is I can't simply make him "disappear" because of the fact he's a vice dorm leader! One disappearance of a major student, and I'm a goner. I'll "disappear" myself from this school. Somehow, Rook is obsessed with me, as far as I can read. Perhaps I can exploit it in some way, but I just can't deal with people like him...'
Rook narrowed his eyes and smiled eerily wide, "How flattering..." he faintly chuckled as he closed the notebook and places it near your slumped figure together with your magic pen. That's enough reading for now. He's satisfied with how much information he accumulated from you.
The Pomefiore vice dorm leader can finally distinguish your character. Your icy exterior is truly a mere front just so you'd seem unapproachable to almost everyone! Underneath that, he can tell you're quite the character, and concerningly sociopathic. Did his opinion of you change? No. Not in the slightest. Rather, his weird infatuation with you amplified when he learned this ugly and dark side of you.
Still, you're beautiful all the same. But he wonders, what can he do to make you crack? Playing with prey is something he'd indulge in after all.
/ /
"Hiding from me is such a bad idea, Mon Diable," Rook pressed his hunting knife close to your neck causing you to tilt your head up to avoid the sharp blade. He enjoyed the fact your normally stoic face started to show fear as you looked anywhere but his eyes. Fear really sets him off, did you not know?
It's been some time now since he read what's inside your notebook. His stalking and staking out tendencies worsened so much to the point he doesn't mind if he shirked his responsibilities as both student and vice dorm leader. Vil noticed, but did not choose to do something about it because whatever dirty work the vice dorm leader is doing, he'd rather not be involved.
You just happened to be running away from something or someone after classes and made a sudden turn to the forest. It, unfortunately and unbeknownst to you, kicked his instincts badly, so he followed after you.
As if pure desperation, your lips began to move, "Wh-What in th-the hell do you want, Rook?" you stuttered out as you grit your teeth. Whatever expressions you use to communicate can't even apply here anymore. There's no way you'll look him in the eyes now.
You talked. You actually talked. There's fear laced in your tone too — fear that he induced in you. How sightly!
The hunter simply chuckled with a malicious undertone, "It'd only make sense for me to chase my prey when they run, oui?" he drank in the horror that had set in your eyes as you struggle against his hold.
"I-I'm not your— Nghh!" you groaned in pain at the sudden sensation of him piercing the tip of the blade into your neck. Your heart rate went up in a panic when small amounts of blood trailed down your neck.
Rook licked off the blood and smiled, "Tres bien! You taste so exquisite as I hoped!" he exclaimed in glee as you clenched your teeth in pain at the open cut.
Whatever weird thing he just excitedly said flew out of your head because that isn't important right now.
You recoiled in disgust as you try your hardest to not cry at how the blond keeps on poking your flesh with the knife, warning you to not do or say something rash. Torture is something you're so used to seeing and inflicting, but when you're on the receiving end? It feels so ironic. It's so embarrassing. It makes you reflect on the things you had done, but at least you'll die now. At least whatever your victims wished upon you is granted now... even if it's cruel as much as you.
But you don't feel the blade plunging deep into your neck to just end you.
"...?!" ew, ew. You feel a sharp needle enter the side of your neck deep as the disgusting feeling of liquid shooting down followed after which made your whole body desperately thrash about. Yet, as you do so, everything felt heavier as you breathe harder.
"You didn't resist as much as I had expected! Bon travail!" the hunter praised sickeningly, blatantly ignoring the fact you're practically trying to break down in front of him.
The syringe in his hand is immediately put away, "You thoughtlessly kill people, non?" he smiled when your eyes widened in shock. He approached you and crouched down to meet your fallen form, "...But, don't worry. Your secret is safe with me."
"..." horrified, your body quickly acted by trying to crawl in such a excruciating pace. The lulling effects you're put under together with your open cuts is disorienting you.
Exhausted immediately, you just lie down on the ground limply.
Rook simply smiled at your futile efforts to get away from him. He approached you once more and picks you up bridal style. He coos at you as if you're a wounded animal, baring whatever fight is left in you to just...
"I do know a place beyond the woods, mon chéri... where you could hide from your crimes."
...Scare him. You want to scream threats at him, but...
"There's no one who would disturb us there. It's simply wonderful!"
You're the victim now — a victim to an obsession you have seen boil for so long that it had caught up to you just now.
Your consciousness started slipping as he adjusts you in his hold, making you lean further to his chest.
...And no one will save you.