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extramortem) wrote2023-12-31 12:44 pm
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▶ AUDIO
▶ VIDEO
▶ ACTION
17 / male / interested in: men / 6♠
Details
Prior to arriving here, I was a new demon applying myself to learn everything I could about Hell and its rules as well as demons and the games that they play among one another. Prior to that, I was human—a student in school.
Anything else you want to know about me, you will have to ask me yourself.
Regardless of whether I’m here or in Hell, my goal is the same: I want to learn everything I can about this place and its people, and then I want to utilize the rules and rewards of the Game to best benefit myself. I want to discover what it means to become “powerful” in this place, and I plan on collecting cards and climbing ranks in order to do so—and on my own terms.
Determination and adaptability.
I’m interested in anything thrilling, frightening, or mysterious. Beyond that, I’m willing to try any number of new things, though I typically tend to focus on whatever is capturing my interest at the time. As for food, I would say that my sweet tooth is comparatively underdeveloped—I tend to prefer savory food, though I would be happy to share sweets with another.
What’s most important to me is that it’s someone who accepts me and loves me for everything that I am.
…Though, if he’s attractive, that would certainly be a bonus.
Wine
.02 CLOWNS OR MIMES
…Neither
.03 SHOWER OR BATH
Bath
.04 PIRATES OR NINJAS
Seriously? Neither. This is kind of childish…
.05 TITS OR ASS
Depends
.06 COFFEE OR TEA
Either
.07 SPICY OR SWEET
Spicy
.08 SUMMER OR WINTER
Winter
.09 LEATHER OR LACE
Lace
10. ROUGH SEX OR GENTLE SEX
Both have their place, I think…
INTJ-T
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That's what I was thinking. A knife, or something sharp. There's some demons with weapons I could summon... Maybe a sword? An axe? Either way, I could probably get them to give you it.
[That's the plan, anyway. The plan that is rapidly forming in his head. It's not a good one. Haphazard at best, really, but he continues on anyway, though his voice is far from frantic it is a little... Eager?]
And... I thought so. Maybe? Or.. Maybe if you try hard enough, they could fuse to you? I'm not really sure how fusion in general works, since... I was only ever the one fusing demons together and not the one being fused.
[And to his question, Kazuya pulls back a little, seemingly finding himself again. Would... he be alright with letting Makoto do that to him? To mutilate his body on the off chance that maybe those wings would never appear again?
It's not that he likes being in pain, really. And something like that would probably be incredibly painful, which is enough to get him to slow his roll.]
I... think so? Maybe. I mean, I'm the one that suggested it, so at least part of me has to be alright with it.
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and you know it’s weird when makoto thinks it’s weird. )
I… I’ve never tried something like that before.
( he has, by force of necessity, learned how to suture the wound around his neck; he’s also gotten pretty good at applying what he’d learned there to other wounds as well. he knows from that experience that he could figure it out, he at least has the skill, but… would it actually do anything?
as for kazuya’s proposal about the “fusion”… makoto shrinks back a little bit in his seat, looking concerned. )
I don’t know… if I really want to try anything like that. ( how—does he even put something like this into words? i mean, it seems natural not to really want to fuse oneself with entities they don’t really understand, but, ) It seems different than just—putting something on me. That… Would something else then be mixed up into me? Would I, be… any less—myself? I…
( he turns his head, looking away. he catches his lower lip between his teeth for a moment before shaking his head.
it’s his halting answer to perhaps the most pertinent question here that drags makoto’s attention back to him, though it’s just his gaze; he looks at him sidelong out of the corner of his eyes, still uncomfortable-looking where he sits with his back against the backing of his chair, arms tightly crossed, face half-turned away. ) Part of you isn’t good enough. ( his tone is cutting, but in a way that’s very characteristic of makoto, it’s him… caring, in his own weird way. ) With what you’re asking me to do… I won’t accept anything less than full confidence that you’re okay with it, that this is what you want. ( something difficult to define softens in his expression, and he continues in a lower tone, ) It’s not like I need wings or anything. ( “especially not if it’s at potential great cost to either you or our friendship,” seems to be the unspoken undercurrent. )
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... It doesn't really matter. Makoto is right, in that in theory, or at least from his admittedly limited understanding of it. But... Would it be the same with part of him? It's not like his consciousness is in his wings, after all, and he frowns as he thinks about it, turns over the idea in his head.
At the same time, absorbing Beldr's power had changed him, however slightly. And that change had only grown with each of the Be's he'd consumed, though at the end of that all, he had still been him. He was still Kazuya Minegishi, despite Babel. Despite Naoya. Despite Remiel and Metatron.
He'd like to think that it'd be the same for Makoto too, since it'd be a piece of him, and not his very being.
The line of thinking is interrupted too, by Makoto speaking again, by him so vehemently telling him "No", that he wouldn't do it without it being something that he wants, and the notion of that kind of throws him a little, and he goes slack in his seat.
Is it something he wants? Or is it something that he wants to do to make Makoto... Maybe not happy, but at least to help him out a little? He's made choices in the past, always with other people in mind. It's the same situation here.
Naoya had called him his pawn, once. And honestly, he didn't mind. Doesn't mind being used by other people, so long as it's people he likes. How weird is that?]
I... don't know. [He shifts a little in his seat.] To both of the things you said. I don't feel like anything would be mixed into you, but I also don't really know, since my case is pretty unique to all demon-kind where I'm from. And then... I'm not sure if it's something I want to do, or something I want to do for you.
[There's a difference there, however slight. An incredibly messy situation.]
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fear of eternity, fear of abandonment. it had yawned wide, an open wound in his soul, when J had offhandedly offered to datenshou to dismember him and toss him aside in his storehouse, should he prove useless in his establishment. what horror would it be like, to sit immobile and powerless, gathering dust and unable to die until everyone who remembered you one day forgot?
fear of losing himself—
“himself” is all he has left. he fears becoming someone he doesn’t recognize. that, in and of itself, would be a “death,” and not even one that would offer relief.
it’s not an easy topic of conversation for either of them. it’s a path barely cut from the wild of the wood, overgrown with thorns and clouded by the unknown. it had been an offhanded offer, and it’s only characteristic of makoto to overthink it, to anguish over all the different angles and possibilities. looking at kazuya’s face as he replies, he realizes that, in doing so, he’d infected the other young man with the same.
there’s a long pause, but it’s one he breaks by turning back toward his friend, mustering a smile. perhaps it’s a little forced, at first, but it gets more and more genuine the more he speaks. ) Hey. It’s not something we have to get hung up on now. The fact that you offered, that you would do something like that for me… ( fellas, you ever blush a little bit because a guy offered to self-mutilate for your benefit? ) It’s not really what I expected to be offered on a first date, but—thank you.
( and it’s right about then that the food arrives—thankfully at a point where the sever didn’t overhear them talking about how they would potentially cut body parts off of kazuya! (or maybe they did overheard and just aren’t letting on.) )
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The food comes, and serves as a decent distraction, and Kazuya smiles a little in return, rubbing the back of his neck, sheepish. Embarrassed.
Somehow, he hadn't thought the topic would be so serious, despite it's very nature.
He waits for the server to leave, prods at his own meal before he speaks up.]
No, it's probably not really first date material, is it? Or maybe it is, considering what we are? I don't really, know.
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the waiter is conscientious as they deliver the food, distributing utensils enough for the two to share the dishes that they had ordered. makoto is quick to claim one of the yakitori, though his coin-like eyes are intent on the steaming gyudon. it smells incredible; he hadn’t actually thought himself all that hungry before, but now that the food is in front of him, he’s far less daunted.
makoto strips one of the pieces of chicken from the skewer when kazuya continues. a small smile hooks in at the corner of his mouth as he chews. yes—that’s a good point, isn’t it? )
Well… Yes, from my experience with demons where I’m from, you’re not wrong.
( dismemberment had been immediately on the table when makoto had summoned J, but that hadn’t really been a “date”… )
Though that might be a little forward. Because that’s got to be, what, at least second or third base?
( he’s joking………… )
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Otherwise he genuinely could not care less. He'll be polite, but he's definitely someone who needs a little encouragement from friends most of the time to do the right thing. Which may have gotten worse, recently. Oops.
Anyway, Makoto strips one of the skewers, and Kazuya is quick to reach out to grab one, lest he not get none considering the gusto in which he'd devoured it. Himself? He eats much slower, more polite. Chewing as he considers the words given to him thoughtfully, before he tilts his head, looking contemplative.]
Really? I wonder what fourth base is, then.
[Makoto is joking and... Kazuya is kind of enabling it by pretending to be serious about his words.]
I mean, I don't think I'd mind even just going to second or third, with you. I did offer, after all.
[.... this guy.]
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when compared to makoto’s general misanthropy, listen. it’s still pretty genki.
makoto doesn’t reply, merely giving kazuya a heavy-lidded, sly look. is there ever question what a home run is in these circumstances? the only difference with demons would be… there’s probably more blood, pushing more violence and extremes than mortals would ever consider because they had to concern themselves with permanent consequences. demons, representing “concepts” more than singular individuals of flesh and blood, didn’t have to worry about that sort of thing. they would recover from anything so long as their name was known and spoken.
he laughs, shaking his head. ) Well, I should certainly hope so. ( when he says it, he’s thinking more about the more “human” standard, but—he remembers what they had talked about, earlier. how kazuya might have inklings for things beyond what most humans were comfortable or happy with. even so, ) There’s no rush. We can work up to it, if you wanted.
( his own patience and generosity surprise him. he’s not exactly known for either. but… even in makoto’s mind, it’s murky. his proclivities always lean towards the extreme—extreme in violence, in possession, in appetite. unless he’s satisfied like that in some way, he often ends up feeling… somewhat unfulfilled. but he’s already been surprised to have found others in this resort both willing and capable of surprising things. and kazuya… he does like him. as a person, as a friend. the things he wants will always be the things he wants, but his internal conflict becomes stronger when it’s someone he sorta cares about; it makes him even more strongly want to pull back from them.
for those curious: yes, it can be exhausting. but he’s just taking it one step at a time. typical teenage friendship is still pretty new to him, after all (there’s almost nothing typical but it, but sure). he takes a bite of gyudon, thinking. ) So… On dates like this, you typically try to get to know the other person better, right? ( yes. he’s never been on one before, what of it. ) Is… there anything you’d like to know?
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[Kazuya, still slow with eating, hasn't even finished his own chicken skewer... It'll probably be the case that Makoto will likely eat most of it on his own. He does make a contemplative sound, leans his head into his hand as he watches the other demon passively as he eats.
He's also never actually been on a date before either. Despite his popularity at school, and the incredible amount of people who were into him, he'd never even so much as gave them a second glance. He just wasn't interested in them. How weird now, considering everything that's happened in this place. The fact that he's... more or less become comfortable with it's nature, in a way.
Then again, demons do tend towards hedonism, and that's something this place is only all too happy to encourage.
(Part of him wonders how much of that is his own wants and wills, and how much it's the other Bel's influence on him, how much his lack of humanity plays a part in things. It's a part of him he all too quickly stops thinking about.)]
I'm not really sure. I don't want to ask you anything you might not want to share, even if you're obviously welcome to not share it. [It'd be a bit of a mood ruiner, her thinks.] So... Maybe we can start small? What's your favourite colour? Animal? Things like that?
[Out of all the things he could ask, that's what he goes for. Maybe it's a bit silly, but he's not sure how much he wants to ruin the mood with a serious topic again.]
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( there’s something to be said about both. though, considering kazuya is a little more uncertain about the more extreme types of things, it’s probably for the best. makoto certainly hadn’t exercised such patience and pacing—his own blood hadn’t even been dry on the contract he’d signed with J before he’d torn the demon in half. sometimes he thinks maybe it would have been better if he did try to restrain himself. he didn’t remember all that much from that first day, or the first two. it had all been one fevered haze—a lurid smear of light and color, the actualization of a baseborn taboo desire he’d thought he’d die before he ever got to satisfy. but still… he wouldn’t change that he’d done it. only how he’d done it.
here and now, however, he eats methodically; his manners are sharp and clean, finely-practiced, but perhaps a little clipped at the edges. he also gets the sense he will probably eat the majority of the meal, but that’s fine. he leaves half the yakitori to kazuya, splitting the okonomiyaki down the middle with a deft slice of his chopsticks before claiming one half for himself. the gyudon remains on the table between them, perfectly easy to pick from.
perhaps makoto is lucky he has raised his cup of tea to drink from when kazuya presents his questions. it helps mask the half-wince of his expression. it… tended to be conversations like that which turned well-meaning kids away from him. it’s not as though he’d always been avoided in school. there had been some kids who had tried, who had extended an olive branch in friendship and at least done their due diligence. but it just never seemed to take very long in the “getting to know you” process for them to realize that something was… off about him. then they started to observe their distance, wholesome intentions stymied.
he would almost rather talk about larger, thornier, potentially mood-ruining topics. at least they were things he really felt he had an opinion on. but… he’ll try. )
Okay. We can do that. Um… Favorite color—probably red. ( probably for normal reasons. (: anyways. ) Favorite animal… how about you go first?
( as he takes another bite of gyudon, wondering if he needs to lie. )
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How strange.]
I know this may shock you to hear, but I really like cats. [There's humour in his voice, at least. To try and help smooth any sort of uncomfortable atmosphere he may have cultivated by asking such a question. He'll even continue on:]
I had a pair of headphones back home, they were given to me as a gift a couple of years ago, and they had a cat-ear outline. [He says, even lifting his hands to mimic the outline of them.] It was probably done as a joke, but the quality was great, and they were surprisingly sturdy. They even survived me getting my ass kicked by demons several times during the lockdown, even despite how old they are.
[The craftsmanship was kind of second to none, honestly. They'd even really only sustained mild scuffs by the end of it.
He snatches up some of the gyudon. Pauses, before putting it in his mouth.] My favourite colour is pink. Probably surprising, right? Though blue comes pretty close.
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( it was obvious enough from his username, and he’s pretty sure they’ve even already discussed this, but he supposes it’s still worthwhile to hear more of kazuya’s reasoning. he raises an eyebrow as kazuya describes the headphones that he’d had prior to arriving here—his eyes trace the outline, attempting to visualize how they might have looked. really, with the description and the gesture… it’s most likely that what he’s imagining is nothing like what they actually look like. but it does seem like something that fits kazuya. it’s a shame that this place had stripped him of them, even though he’d survived a whole demon-infested lockdown with them.
learning that his favorite color is pink is surprising, but only at first. the more he thinks about it, the more it makes sense to him. ) Hm… No, now that you say it, I can see that. ( it’s a bit characteristic of him, right? a little surprising in a way you don’t expect, but in a way that just reinforces who he is. or, at least, that’s how makoto sees it.
his elbows on the table, he rubs the back of his neck with his hand—something which always makes a bit of a rasping sound, given the sutures there. ) Um… I, ah, probably would say I don’t have a favorite animal. I don’t dislike them, or anything. But… I was just never very interested in them either.
( his indifference didn’t necessarily mean callousness, though. he hadn’t wanted to hurt animals any more than he’d wanted to hurt people. there was a time, however, when he had collected dead ones—road kill, things like that—and kept them in his room, but it wasn’t something he was proud of, something he definitely didn’t want to talk about. it had been an act of desperation. his dark thoughts had been multiplying out of control, and he had just been looking for any sort of outlet for them. they were already dead. he thought it was the best way, without hurting anything, but—it hadn’t been enough, either. )
I know it’s not a very good answer, ( one that sometimes people really didn’t like, even though it wasn’t even a fourth as bad as the worse, hidden truth, ) but, I didn’t really want to lie to you…
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[He's surprised, yes, but he doesn't seem anything more than intensely curious now, even as Makoto explains. He's never met someone who couldn't name at least one animal as their favourite, so this experience? Knowing now that Makoto doesn't have a favourite? It intrigues him more, and he kind of leans forward again, though it's barely.]
It's a really good answer! [He says, giving a small laugh.] And I appreciate it, that you don't want to lie to me. It's a weird answer, but that's not necessarily a bad thing, you know?
[Especially since Makoto didn't outright state that he hated animals, which actually would have given Kazuya a bit of pause.
He hums a little, thoughtfully as he gathers his words together, pokes at the food a bit.]
Honestly, if I had had to guess your favourite animal, I definitely would have gone with some kind of predator. You kind of give off that energy.
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( he shrinks back in his seat, as if already anticipating an odd reaction to match the odd answer. there isn’t really one forthcoming, though, to his surprise—though kazuya does seem rather interested, which might be just as bad. makoto doesn’t particularly like flashlights being shone into the darkened corners of his psyche that he prefers keep out of sight and out of mind for most people. rather than incising towards the reason for this peculiar response of his, though, kazuya extends to him a benefit of the doubt that he has rarely ever been given. makoto blinks at him with owlish surprise for a moment before easing back to how he had been sitting a moment before, complexion flushing slightly. he nods.
it is true that he doesn’t hate them. he would go so far as to say some of them are cool or interesting, but… well, he was perhaps more interested in the cool aspects of them rather than the animals themselves. he would be happy to pet a kitten or a puppy or something, but he would probably grow bored of it far quicker than other people his age. that sort of thing.
as kazuya continues, he startles a brief laugh out of makoto that is… oddly flattered, to be honest. that faint ruddiness from before deepens, and he hides a contented smile in the palm of his hand, elbow resting on the table. ) Really? …Well, thank you. I think if I were to have a favorite, it probably would be one. ( he lapses into a momentary silence. ) I’ll think about it some more. If I do decide on a favorite, I’ll let you know.
( he continues to pick at the food as he thinks, eventually posing a question of his own, ) How about… What was your favorite time of year, back home?
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[It's said with another laugh, because why wouldn't he? His words have brought about a positive reaction, and a good one at that. Kazuya leans into his own hand, smiling himself, and maybe preening a little that he'd gotten such a reaction.
It just feels good, to make Makoto smile, and that's a thought he's not going to give too much thought to, leave it at the base assumption that it's just because Makoto is a kindred spirit.]
Summer, personally. Even before becoming a demon, I was pretty heat tolerant... [A pause, and he turns away slightly, laughing into his hand.] Though I sunburn pretty bad. At least back then. Haven't really gotten a chance to see how good I am at not getting burnt since.
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I don’t know about that. I feel like I would be tempting the fates for you making more puns.
( he can’t take it, kazuya. if he hears too many of them, he cannot be held accountable for the violence he might attempt in retribution.
perhaps it doesn’t surprise him that kazuya answers that way—he seems like the kind of person who would take full advantage of the freedom that summer gives students their age. makoto looks thoughtful for a moment as he chews a bite of okonomiyaki. ) I think… if you can shrug off fire magic, you can probably avoid getting sunburned.
( he pauses once more. )
I don’t necessarily hate the heat, but… I think I prefer when it’s colder. So I would probably say autumn is my favorite. I like when things feel a little more… quiet, if that makes sense. ( … ) Do you think they even have seasons in this place? ( he knows there are portions of the resort that feign like being in the outdoors, but he gets the sense that those space are kind of… magically contrived, in a way. )
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[ It'd been a thing that started when he was human, but it ended up being a trait he'd kept. When it comes to the other elements though, he's definitely tolerant of them. Even more sturdy when it came to physical attacks too.
But that doesn't matter too much.]
Cooler weather is nice, but me and it historically haven't gotten along. I actually almost got frozen to death by a demon back home.
[ And it's notnan experience he's keen to repeat, even with his newfound tolerances. ]
I'm not sure though... pretty much everything here is indoors, yeah? I couldn't even tell you what season it is outside, if they have them at all.
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( 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. )
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[His sleeve, which he rolls up, showing a gnarly looking scar that's pretty faded by now. A long, sharp row of puncture wounds, definitely from some kind of fucked up animal, if anyone had to guess. No normal animal should have that many teeth!
But also, it's mostly so he can make that joke of having more up his sleeve... He even grins a little. Get it? Get it???]
And I wouldn't say it's been romantic... Interesting? I definitely feel like I know you a little better now.
[And... Hopefully Makoto feels the same way about him. Though Kazuya is already pretty free with information regarding himself, there's still more, still things he's not really comfortable talking about to anyone except maybe Makoto, because there's a part of him that feels like the other demon would just understand it, that there wouldn't really be any need to explain.
Though he's also the only one who knows his actual name, and the connotations behind it. Weiss might know it, but she doesn't know the implications of it simply because she wasn't from his world, didn't have that same mythology to learn.]
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scars have some fascination to him. besides the one on his neck, he’s not entirely certain this body of his scars properly—whatever injuries he sustains, so long as he sews them up and gives them time, it will just make itself whole again. though, to hearken back to their previous conversation… if he sewed something else onto himself, would the scar and stitches of that graft be visible? hm…
perhaps a little eager to change the subject from all of that, he chuckles. yeah, that’s the answer he prefers to hear; honestly, if kazuya had been seeking something too in-line with romance from him, he would be a lot more uncomfortable. he’d just been poking fun, as… dinner and movie dates tended to be things people think are “romantic,” right?
no, he far prefers what they have, even if it’s honestly new territory for him. his friendship with fjord hadn’t been something like this; there were some few similarities with what he and the other young demon had gone through, but nothing would change that makoto had been human and fjord never had been. kazuya presents a facsimile of something makoto never received while he was alive: a normal friend from someone who might’ve been a classmate, one who didn’t turn away from his strangeness. it was just as bracing, just as exciting, as it was frightening. he always fears gaining more of something, of anything—it just meant it would hurt more if it was lost. there are still so many things that could cause him to lose it, most of them locked away inside of him as ravening secrets ready to betray him as soon as they were loosed.
still. he doesn’t want to stop or turn away. the promise is too tantalizing. ) Yeah. I feel the same way. ( he pauses, tapping lightly on the tabletop. ) If… you ever want to know something about me, you can ask. I, ah… I might not be the best at answering. There’s a lot of things I’m not very good at putting into words. But, I want to try to be as honest as I can for you.
( the earnestness of it makes him feel vulnerable, and that makes him feel a little anxious, but he pushes through it. by this point, with the meal finished and payment squared away… )
Should we go?
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But he doesn't have time to dwell on it, Makoto twitches back like he'd been burned, almost. Strange, considering he made no move to stop the exploration of his scar, and he also makes no move to grab his hand to stop him from recoiling. Instead, with the arm, he leans his head into his hand to watch him, intrigued and fascinated all at once.
More so when he says that, even. That if Kazuya wants to know something about him, he's free to ask, even if he might not be able to answer.
He drums a free hand on the table, considering, and then just shakes his head. He'll get to know Makoto a little better, before he poses that particular question. ]
If I learn anything about you, I want it to be because you want to share it with me on your own, not because I asked. I appreciate the offer, though. And I promise it's not because I'm not curious about you, or your life or anything like that.
[He wants it to come up organically, for Makoto to share with him things that maybe he's not shared with anyone else.]
Speaking of that though... Wanna skip the movie this time? I think I'm having more fun just talking to you than watching a movie could ever provide.
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such a foolish thing to keep around in his mind after he’s already died, right? and yet it remains. he simply hasn’t “lived” long enough as a demon, separate from those people and their responses to him, to shore up a defense against it.
he tilts his head slightly, confused, when kazuya shakes his own; as he continues, however, his expression hollows out with something hard to define—something perplexed and exhilarated, all at the same time. his throat constricts, feeling raw. he swallows with some difficulty, pausing for a moment before giving a nod.
kazuya might not understand that what he asks of makoto here is perhaps the hardest thing someone could ask of him. to take it upon himself to reveal that which he had gone through any extent to try to hide, something he still isn’t convinced wouldn’t open a rift in their friendship he wouldn’t be able to bridge. could he ever be that courageous, when keeping things to himself is so much safer? even if sometimes the denial of some of the most pure expressions of himself feels so suffocating he can’t stand it—
he doesn’t know. it’s a lot to ask of him in such a short time; he’s only been here, aware of these other possibilities open to him, for a few weeks.
he blinks owlishly, a little slow to sift through the suggestion. ) Oh. ( his death-pale complexion colors somewhat, and he hesitates before nodding again. ) Y - Yeah, of course. We can always watch one some other time.
( even if they are both supposedly the type that only really watch movies to do so with the person they’re with. )
So, um… Where should we go next, then? ( he does recall what this date was supposed to prelude, but, well. this place tended to offer a bevy of options for things like that, unless kazuya wanted to just hang out some more. )
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[Though how much remains to be seen. But he's glad that Makoto doesn't take that comment to mean that Kazuya wants to end their date short. Sure, maybe going to the movie would have been easy, but it's not like they can talk at each other through it, or make stupid commentary in a theatre about the movie they pick. Kazuya rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, still grinning as Makoto looks at him like that, like he's torn between two things.]
For some reason, I keep losing my shirt out on the casino floor. I mean, it's only happened twice now, but twice is a little too much for my liking, you know? And I'm not confident it'd be in the lost and found... Intact, if you catch my drift.
[You cant trust the weirdos here!!! Who knows what they'd do to discarded clothing that people would otherwise like to retrieve at some point...
No, he'd rather not take that chance. But also, it opens him up to a little more teasing, so he'll try and get the first shot in teasing-wise, before Makoto can make commentary about how a pattern is forming, if he's lost his shirt twice. He offering Makoto his hand.]
We can hold hands though, if you want. A couples clothing adventure, maybe?
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but—he can figure that out. they can figure that out. )
I’m only a Four… I don’t think our rooms are that much bigger. ( if they’re bigger at all? threes are kept on the same halls as fours; he’s never looked inside to verify. he tends to keep the bed expanded to its “full” size, giving less room in the room but more room to sleep in. he prefers that, considering he mostly only sleeps in there anyway. )
You… You keep losing it? ( makoto is dubious to the point of disbelieving before something “clicks” in his head. okay, maybe he’s remembering their earlier conversation and how shit just keeps happening to kazuya. makoto doesn’t know how he’s managed to avoid a lot of the stranger effects of this place, in the food and otherwise, but it seems like kazuya has the opposite problem. he sighs. ) Okay. Yeah, I get it. ( he gives a small shake of his head, standing up from the table. ) We can swing by the Nest, sure. I, ah… I actually have also been meaning to pick up a few replacement shirts as well.
( shit. why did he say “replacement”?? he seems to bristle a little bit as he realizes this odd choice in diction; he doesn’t really want to say he’d had to throw a few out because he’d gotten irreparably soaked in blood. it hadn’t always been someone else’s. once, it had been his.
he glances down at the proffered hand and then looks back up to kazuya to shoot him a narrowed, “I see what you’re doing” sort of glare. but he takes it all the same, ) Alright, then. Let’s go, ( beginning to lead them out of Red Cardinal and through the resort toward where the Nest sprawls.
as he does so, he does venture: ) Do you think… going to your room instead might be possible?
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Kazuya gives his hand a squeeze, tugging playfully, but not demanding that Makoto keep up. In fact, Kazuya will keep pace with him instead, and swing their hands a few times. You know. Like lovers might.]
Yeah, I guess I kind of get a little overeager and end up taking it off when things are starting, and then just forget I've left it there.
[Brain empty. Full of repressed teenage hormones exacerbated by demonic urges. Surely Makoto knows how it is.
He does seem a little surprised as Makoto speaks, asks if going to Kazuya's room would be possible instead, and he nods, because why wouldn't it? Kazuya is, unfortunately, yet to understand just how much blood a human body actually has in it, though to be fair, his doesn't tend to leave messy stains.]
Sure. I don't mind at all. I just thought you might be more comfortable in your room, but if you'd rather mine, that works too.
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cw: underage prostitution mention
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cw: underage prostitution mention
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cw: cannibalism mention
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cw blood and slight gore?
mildest gore, mildest blood.... cw: mentioned predation??? sort of
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cw: blood, gore, violence, slight cannibalism...
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🔞 cw: blood, violence
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🔞 cw: blood, gore, light vore, cannibalism mention...
cw: blood, gore, light vore, cannibalism mention + predation mentions...
🔞 cw: predation & suicide mention, gore, vore
🔞 cw: fucked up demons, honestly.
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🔞
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🔞 vore, cannibalism, blood
🔞 vore, cannibalism, blood
🔞 vore, cannibalism, blood
🔞 vore, cannibalism, blood
🔞 cannibalism mention
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🔞 cannibalism/vore again...
vore, vore never changes
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