( so… more-than-resistant to fire, but perhaps a little wary of cold? even if it’s not necessarily a weakness of his physically, a mental weakness can be just as crippling of a shortcoming. concern creases at the edges of his expression, and he finishes slowly chewing the bite of gyudon he’d taken for himself before he observes calmly, ) You have a lot of stories like that, you know.
( nearly getting frozen to death, nearly getting impaled to death. you know. stuff like that. in comparison, makoto has to think his own experiences with demons in the last few months (of a distinctly different variety than the ones kazuya had had) are preferable in comparison. )
I’ve heard there are places in the resort which kind of simulate temperature and weather, but… yeah, I don’t think any part of it is actually outside.( he frowns. that’s almost more alienating than the other strange things about this place; not having a sense of day or night, of the season, of time passing at all. for someone like him who wouldn’t continue to age physically, it seems oddly dangerous.
he sets his chopsticks down. the meal at this point is probably winding down, with the food not being altogether gone quite yet but soon enough. makoto sits back in his chair, taking a sip of tea; he gives kazuya a feline grin over its lip before asking, ) So, what do you think? Is this as suitably romantic as you’d hoped?
( he’s teasing—it’s not as though he had expected such a thing, given how their friendship is established. but kazuya is fun to tease. )
no subject
( so… more-than-resistant to fire, but perhaps a little wary of cold? even if it’s not necessarily a weakness of his physically, a mental weakness can be just as crippling of a shortcoming. concern creases at the edges of his expression, and he finishes slowly chewing the bite of gyudon he’d taken for himself before he observes calmly, ) You have a lot of stories like that, you know.
( nearly getting frozen to death, nearly getting impaled to death. you know. stuff like that. in comparison, makoto has to think his own experiences with demons in the last few months (of a distinctly different variety than the ones kazuya had had) are preferable in comparison. )
I’ve heard there are places in the resort which kind of simulate temperature and weather, but… yeah, I don’t think any part of it is actually outside. ( he frowns. that’s almost more alienating than the other strange things about this place; not having a sense of day or night, of the season, of time passing at all. for someone like him who wouldn’t continue to age physically, it seems oddly dangerous.
he sets his chopsticks down. the meal at this point is probably winding down, with the food not being altogether gone quite yet but soon enough. makoto sits back in his chair, taking a sip of tea; he gives kazuya a feline grin over its lip before asking, ) So, what do you think? Is this as suitably romantic as you’d hoped?
( he’s teasing—it’s not as though he had expected such a thing, given how their friendship is established. but kazuya is fun to tease. )