( honestly, if he had stopped by any sooner, makoto likely wouldn’t have responded to his message at all. the moroseness of his dour mood after being released from the paintings hasn’t fully lifted, but he does realize on a conscious level that he can’t spend the rest of his eternal, immortal life hiding from what happened. he would need to face it, wouldn’t he? (no. he doesn’t want to.) yet there’s another part of him that thinks perhaps it’s for the best if he merely inters himself in the quiet dark, never seeing anyone ever again; at least then, he probably wouldn’t become that creature, would he? a monster, like out of his worst nightmares of what he could be capable of? thinking about it makes his mouth feel dry.
even off his game as he is, makoto can clearly see the change in esi’s own mannerisms. he expected the sort of amiable, over-familiar brusqueness that would have him inviting himself into his room, setting himself up in the comfiest spot in the small quarters and perhaps even helping himself to whatever snacks or drinks might have been left out and available. he seems reserved, which is odd. curiosity and concern loosen his wariness. he opens the door a little bit wider. )
I… ( it’s just… a very apt and very accurate way of putting it, even if makoto didn’t want to actively admit it. his mouth closes for a moment, and then he nods. ) Y-Yeah… You’re probably right.
( he pushes the door open the rest of the way, stepping aside to invite his friend in. the room of a six, it’s not any more decorated than his previous quarters had been—makoto still seems to eschew most personal touches, preferring functional ones—though it is far better equipped. )
I can make… Um, how about some tea? ( a small electric kettle is one of the few luxuries he’s allowed himself since his promotion. )
no subject
( honestly, if he had stopped by any sooner, makoto likely wouldn’t have responded to his message at all. the moroseness of his dour mood after being released from the paintings hasn’t fully lifted, but he does realize on a conscious level that he can’t spend the rest of his eternal, immortal life hiding from what happened. he would need to face it, wouldn’t he? (no. he doesn’t want to.) yet there’s another part of him that thinks perhaps it’s for the best if he merely inters himself in the quiet dark, never seeing anyone ever again; at least then, he probably wouldn’t become that creature, would he? a monster, like out of his worst nightmares of what he could be capable of? thinking about it makes his mouth feel dry.
even off his game as he is, makoto can clearly see the change in esi’s own mannerisms. he expected the sort of amiable, over-familiar brusqueness that would have him inviting himself into his room, setting himself up in the comfiest spot in the small quarters and perhaps even helping himself to whatever snacks or drinks might have been left out and available. he seems reserved, which is odd. curiosity and concern loosen his wariness. he opens the door a little bit wider. )
I… ( it’s just… a very apt and very accurate way of putting it, even if makoto didn’t want to actively admit it. his mouth closes for a moment, and then he nods. ) Y-Yeah… You’re probably right.
( he pushes the door open the rest of the way, stepping aside to invite his friend in. the room of a six, it’s not any more decorated than his previous quarters had been—makoto still seems to eschew most personal touches, preferring functional ones—though it is far better equipped. )
I can make… Um, how about some tea? ( a small electric kettle is one of the few luxuries he’s allowed himself since his promotion. )