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@white-reaper - uHHhh
It’s been a while since the demon had wandered into his home. A while since the dhampir had witnessed that smirk from across the room, the confidence exuding from him near overwhelming [ his personality remained the same, no matter how much time passed ]. Smiling to himself, he unfurls and rises from the sofa, book placed to the side when he makes his way towards visitor; Reading could wait another day.
Palm resting upon the middle of Kishou’s back, Alucard catches his hand in his own and lightly dips him down [ an unexpected action from someone like him ]. Long strands of hair fall and frame the other’s face, silver irises peering into ones of a similar hue. ❝ – Hello. ❞ Quietly uttered, lips inches away, his grasp remains unwavering as questions dancing within mind begin to make themselves known. ❝ Will you tell me where you’ve been? Out causing trouble again, perhaps? ❞
Truly, only music was missing now [ and he might complain about the lack of it later ]. It had only been a few moments they both, obviously, had debated on who would move first. And just when the demon stood tall and proud, Adrian surely had gone out of his way to make his whole approach a rather pleasant surprise. No refusal to be brought down to a position that was as intimate as it was telling of their current engagement [ but was it so surely telling at all? ]. "---Well~"
Tilt of head when lips were so close, leaning back easily against the hand supporting him, knowing well enough it was no problem quite at all. "Mayhaps~" But would he truly get an answer in this tricky way and captious situation? No, maybe not [ maybe yes ]. "But why should I tell you? What is it to you? Missed me so much?" He had leaned up for just a margin. Brushed lips against the dhampir's own in the soothing lullaby of a simple kiss. "Given how you hold me, touch me, I might very well think so~"
@white-reaper - he’s so unsure omfg
Calmly watching investigator from where he sits, battered and bruised from training [ he could last a minute now– impressive, to say the least ], fingers rhythmically tap against bench. Ah. It wasn’t like him to not openly ask lover when something played on mind, yet this– Sighing, head shakes. No point putting it off; It wasn’t as though he was asking for impossible favours or making ridiculous demands. ❝ Kishou, I’ve been wondering– ❞ Rising, Nagomi is placed up against the wall, Take then strolling towards the other.
❝ Ixa. Would you… show me how to use her? ❞ A strange request perhaps; Most other investigators would currently be striving to get away from his partner and the oftentimes brutal coaching he’d put them through. And his own body aches, it does, however, unlike those comrades of his, it could handle a great deal more battering [ a result of years of discipline ]. ❝ We still have some time before we need to go home. ❞
Drawn in thoughts like he was, movements nevertheless fluent and unbroken, the weapon of his current choice [ Ixa, indeed ] would be brought back and forth between both hands as if it would be an extended part of himself and not a tool to be used in battle. That was, for obvious reasons, what he told so many that would step up against him, try to keep up with him, try to land a hit on him [ and would fail regardlessly ]. Fulfilling easily said motions until voice of his partner reaches out and the hesitance laced into each word does not go over unnoticed. It's quaint, for a spell, that Take would sound so unsure.
Till that very request had finally been brought forth and himself would watch bruised figure rise and drawl a little bit closer [ personally he would think it enough for the day--- ]. "I can." No need to deny him when he seemed so taken in by the possible training with a weapon that was beyond the handling of a multitude of investigators [ he assumes only a select handful even capable ]. "But, actually, you should rest for first." Tilt of head follows. Eyes softening considerably before he exhales a sigh. "I didn't go easy on you. If you, however, want to see it, I might only agree on the basics."
For everything else? That could be done at a later date.
Some would call him insane for only considering facing this man with all rummaging thoughts that offer nought explanations to what so many had muttered about was a change in behaviour and mannerism [ but would Kishou truly wonder about it? no, not at all ], and yet? There was no hesitation. No stop in own step in approaching this King now that he had been left alone by one that seemed to uproot all that so many knew and understood. He could have questioned their interest in personal affairs but was far too adamant to figure it out himself [ if only because desire to know repercussions was strong enough. how ludicrous ]. So, after only a few instances passing in listening to quarrels here and there, would his path take him to his superior---
---and wouldn't it be a lie to not know that his own tongue, as sharp as ever, was a despised skill of his own? [ how long still, till this man decided to dispose of him? ]
"I see that he is gone again." He? Oh, there was no need to announce rank, name, position that elusive someone holds. "The minions are talking, surprising or not, about your change of behaviour when it comes to this man." Does it bother him? No, not at all. Their mutual - acceptance - was not known to be of a pliant and calm sort, for quite the opposite had taken place in acquiring his current position [ and such the warrior makes it known that he strives to not be an easy follower ]. "I wonder too if I am quite so honest, sir." || @lichsent ♡~
And that very accumulation of thoughts that Kain suddenly brings forth to a set of questions as intricate as they were simple was enough to pace his own mind for the motion. Have his languorous form unfurl from his chosen seat a little off-side of his partner's own, to rise to a stand and merely cross the discardable distance towards his lover when he decides that he wants to know more, while not quite wanting to know anything. It's a little bit of a mystery [ perhaps? ], the way he found indulgence in something that should not be like it was now. So he twists and makes to sit down, being careful enough to not disturb Kain's leisure-time and the drink in hand while he wants to offer what the demon could have always taken. Always made his very own.
"True, I have wondered before why you never indulged yourself in the depths of my mind." Possibly, like he muses and amuses as a thought, it was just because he decided that watching was a merit more for his personal entertainment than knowing everything that there was.
"But does it not, for once, interest you just how I see them?" The multitude of fates flashing behind his eyes, colour of a verdant shine changing and adjusting each breath taken in. They were a bit too high up, now weren't they? Comfortably tucked away in the Reaper's personal property. But there was nothing he could not show if desired. "Yourself? You have the means and wants to do something similar?" A question pronounced as one that never was meant to fall from his lips now so close to shell of ear, trailing, kissing along it. "I can't imagine many of my - kind - would allow you to know what they are able to see." || @diiablerie | cont. ♡~
@white-reaper - “ wow … you’re hot when you’re angry. “ / RANDOM SENTENCE STARTERS
❝ – Your inability to think before you speak is astounding at times. I’m almost impressed by it. ❞ Sword is pulled out of demon’s body, Alucard then stepping over it as he strides towards his companion who watches close by.
What an awful man. Kishou would never change, not even following an attack. True to his nature, he supposed– It certainly made for an interesting companion. ❝ But hot when I’m angry of all things? You only allow that dick of yours to guide you, hm? ❞ There’s a trace of amusement within words, thin eyebrow raising. ❝ Careful. It might get you into trouble one day. ❞ Perhaps not with him [ not anymore, at least ]. Yet should he make a remark to the wrong person whilst they roamed through different villages, well. The residents would surely not be so forgiving.
Notes and nuances spoken like this had only a select few of reasons why they are uttered and brought forth in the light of carnage and destruction brought upon foes as masterfully as this. He knows well enough: the Dhampir would rather want him to engage than compliment looks and stance and have thoughts wander like they did [ but was not this as well just a means to unravel him a little bit more? ]. A smirk that blooms on his face, gone as swiftly as it had come. "Perhaps~ But it would be a lie if you did not find enjoyment in antics just as these."
In the way, his own arms cross before chest and head does lift the closer [ closer, ever closer ] the other man would come. How delirious. How tempting. Only in marginal ways of understanding what and why he set it for himself to unwind and taunt in desires for a reaction. "Now, now~ You know well enough that I only speak like this when in your presence alone." And alone they were once more. "Are you done here? Or do I need to wait for you to find more lust in blood and slaughter?"
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For briefest of moments, his eyes turned fond. Guard was lowered for but a few seconds, allowing for Yori to examine the situation far more closely.
Willingly, he exposed a side of vulnerability towards the investigator. It was a common tactic Yori used (and, so, he wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if arima had called him on it.) when regarding others, and he never ever did say whether it was genuine or not. For the current moment, however…? Yes, it may have been leaning more towards the sincere side of things than it would have on any other days.
However, he was swift in returning back to his distant yet always perpetually inspired persona in a matter of seconds.
“That makes sense,” he stated in plain tone of voice, shifting only slightly to move closer once hand had been raised. It could have been a trap, but also– it could have been a simple gesture.
And, oh, there was only one way to find out! How fun this scene was turning out to be!
“–O~ooh?”
The snap, with intentions as clear and concise as Yori’s truth (it’s a trick question yet not at the same time!), grabbed his attention in no time. Were he anyone else, he could see such a gesture inciting a spook. Thankfully, all he had given was a purposefully sharp jerk of the head. All eyes were on Arima now, and the actor himself would never dare to be so rude to take his eyes off of him now that such an effort was given.
“I cannot offer things to someone that I know very little about,” he admitted seconds later, preferring to lean back into his chair and raise an eyebrow. “I do believe that they could and would be seen as empty promises, and I do not wish to have that as a lasting impression, you understand. It’s not a textbook definition of “allegiance” that my lovely superiors are after, that much I’m sure you’ve gathered from your time, thus far, being spent with me.”
(how does one entice one with nothing?)
“As such… I, personally, am unable to offer things of much use to you. You seem like you have everything under control, and it’d be greatly insulting on my end to offer forth anything materialistic or the like!” There he moves to adjust his cravat, giving it a well-needed fluff. “Alas, I am afraid to say too much lest it leads the two of us in a never-ending circle! I do not want that, and I do not think it’d be appropriate of me to even begin into it in the form of a joke.”
(simple. use your words. offer the hidden. offer the unspeakable.)
But what would be a good start, he wondered…
(a truce, perhaps? that is the crucial part of this equation, is it not?)
Ah, yes. That seems like it’d be a good place to start.
“We can offer forth peace.”
A lie hidden within a truth. Yori knew of the Clowns’ purpose and knew very well that it would be difficult to believe. That was the point, though. He smiled with his head canting to the side, directing a casually polite gaze towards the other man (the man that could snap his neck without breaking a sweat. yori’s morbidly curious how it feels.) with mild implications of knowing hidden within.
“We do not interfere with your plans, and you do not interfere with ours.”
He expected questions. He was ready to tackle them.
“That is, until one of our own ruins it– taints it! From thereon, it’s back to the drawing board… swept under the rug like nothing happened! No loose ends to tie. No bridges to burn. It’s just– poof! Gone!”
(and, rest assured, that one will not be me.)
A lie would it be to assume he would miss those small signals being displayed in front of him. Be they truthful or not? - it mattered little if anything at all. Expectation would have it that he might call him out for these sort of 'tricks' that might not even be some, but - frankly enough - the Reaper was not entertained at all. Whatever it meant, it either would come to find itself useful later on, or be discarded until whatever next meeting they might 'indulge' in [ if there would even be one at all ].
Vulnerability was only an accumulation of the possible - if oneself was not found as 'vulnerable' who would be able to exploit it? [ And might not be many still ---? ]. Brushed aside the same second snap of his fingers had rung around the room. Tearing out of thoughts and back to attention when asked questions tumble back and forth inside his interlocutor's mind.
He supposes there was a possibility to humour it even more. And anybody who had known the Special Class for a moment longer would realise that this occasion here had dragged on for far more heartbeats than he was able and willing to spill.
Why not see where it would lead?
Knows well enough what they both would need to give in order to not find own sanity at the edge of breaking.
"You speak about insulting my abilities and control, and yet offer forth 'peace' I am very well aware of that is not one to begin with." For what was peace in their eyes? The collection of an acceptance to stay in own path and never step out of self-imposed boundaries, lest they desire and accept it all to break and a war to flood the land and those unsuspecting souls outside of their own realm of existence. "Let us reevaluate it." What was peace in their minds? Remaining in their own active reach of powers without mingling in another party's very own, decidedly fiddling with only their individual means of survival and growing greedy, greedy - so surely ravenous. "I am knowledgeable of your dear superiors and their destructive tendencies, so---" What was peace in their hands?
"---If I admit and suspect myself to the acceptance of something quite as fickle as your word brought forth from those that control you - how am I to know that they would control themselves?" For what is 'peace' - if not a precious little word?
A discardable thought.
But a reaction for an action, is it not? Mimicked comfort of leaning back in his chair, crossed legs to uncross, to change, to swiftly offer a new display of 'ease', head to be set to an angle as if only being quite so attentive with mocking humour laced in whatever word he had proclaimed only seconds prior. These thoughts about something that so many thousands, hundred thousand, million, uncountable, would truly and utterly want? And the investigator's own knowledge about the topic was that his 'associates' would rather turn this earth to dust than try and salvage what shall remain in tainted innocence.
No, frankly and in truth. He only partially thought like this. Else protecting what was so sure dear to him would not find itself his daily means of acting.
Ah, he wanted something else, but what it was? That would remain to be seen. "Alas, I think it might be just like my own partners for you. How am I to tell you and make you believe that my comrades would not destroy and burn those bridges we work so hard to raise?" Easy, there was no way. But there were a hundred different ones to ensure it. "It's a bitter back and forth, don't you think, Mister Yori?"
Lingering around the premise was nothing new. Nothing that should be unexpected [ and still one would want to ask him why he returned time and time again ], with how the residents were skittish, were unpleasantly overwhelmed with his sole aura, no matter that the man didn't move from his high place, nor even decided to humour them with a word or even only a glance. Nothing right now when he all but waited. Sitting with his legs overlaid on high balcony, arms crossed in front of his chest, eyes all but shut to close himself off and away from the world.
It didn't take too long till a wistful tune would fill the air. All but announcing his presence that only so very few had been able to recognise as something far darker. Far more sinister [ and would question just why he was so pliant. so near tamely calm ]. Was it not favourable that the Dhampir just knew? "Late back from your excursions, are you not?" Even though that mingling with something as himself should have not be in his favour? "Or desiring to keep me waiting in our mutual game? Whatever may it be?" || @pennadus ♡~
👩⚕️ Put pressure on my muse’s wound | @white-reaper
“Ha…it got pretty gnarly out there today.” That’s at least one word for it, among many other more colourful things Johnny could think up–if he had the energy to be any more blithe about it than he already is. Of course he’s smiling foolishly through all the blood still sticking to his skin while Kishou helps him with this wound or that. Inconsequential things, however ugly and gaping they look in the present. Johnny sits, one arm slung around his punctured stomach and the other draped lazily across the back of his chair. A little too casual for the occasion, though Johnny is determined to defuse the very sober atmosphere choking the air about them both.
“Sorry about the mess, but…well hey, who am I kidding–you’ve gotta have seen worse than this. All in a days work for you, right?” He glances downward where the blood swims off the edge of his seat, the gauze and the towels pressed into place to soak up the spill. ”Sure does work up an appetite in a guy, though. I’m not sure if I’m cut out for all this. Must be getting old.”
No answer. Only the other man’s hand pressed tight on the fabric keeping Johnny’s torn stomach held closed from view. The knight worriedly blinks over into the man’s pale young face and feels his attempted veil of devil-may-care falter all at once. “Kishou?” A hand swings outward to clap him on the shoulder with a smile that is so very small on his mouth, but so very sincere. “It’s not that bad. You know that, yeah? I just need a rest…”
And he feels it so very little in himself to engage in these small bouts of banter now that he had brought his companion out of a fight and into a quieter, a softer atmosphere. How favourable that one of the places he occupies whenever his own institution should not be able to reach for him had not been too far off. How favourable, perhaps and in a sense, that that partner of his was not here right now, for Kain would have surely found it in himself to smirk about the happenings, and - truthfully - himself felt little about it [ and his lover knew. would only tease marginally, but still too much ]. So no reply falls from lips while his form lowers itself and towards the formerly pristine white of towels now soaked up with a brilliant reminder of a fresh war - slowly turning darker and darker.
It's quite a happening, he had to admit. Knowing well enough just who and what his friend was, and still see him in a condition so far worse for wear than he might have expected to ever spy when it came to him. What a ghastly happening [ and he still had to make a call so that comrades could pick up what they might be able to salvage--- ]. "---It's not that bad."
He repeats it with a softness that was near too feeble to make it appear like he would believe that. Nevertheless, presumption may ring that Johnny was right about it. For if all that he had heard about this kind of creature living, usually, in the depths of the night? This little thing should be so easy to solve. "So you say." And sighs out that displeasure, that faint whisper of cracking incredulity before shaking his head a moment later. "I might see things like these on the near-daily, nevertheless, I do not feel like it would be appropriate of me to just brush it off." That is to not say that he finds bother in the fact that his companion does. But still enough to push him to rise to a stand before setting head to an angle. "Foolish, you shouldn't have gotten involved."
To say he was furious would be an understatement. Steps bringing him towards the laboratory a bit quicker than one may want for it to happen [ any attempts to get him to calm down and stop had been for nought ], while he does invite himself towards the inner workings of the scientist's mind. Does enter without properly announcing himself, for was he not aware of the fact that Viktor already knew that it was the young Noble and nobody else. "Did you encourage him in that thought?" Oh, mayhap the other may chide him for the harsh tone usually so calming voice was laced with - but it mattered not for him.
"The experimentation. He only just told me he wanted to experience what Tao and Takeo had undergone." But If he stopped and considered? Only endeavoured to answer own questions presented this way? He knows all the replies he would receive in just a few moments - but no, it wouldn't halt him in whatever considerable ill-feeling had found in the depths of his stomach. He needed it to be quenched. He, truthfully, only needed for Viktor to tell him it would be alright. And that he would protect him. || @unheimlig ♡~
@white-reaper - 👕 Tug on my muse’s sleeve/shirt/skirt - NONVERBAL RP STARTERS
Tiny hand pulling at his sleeve doesn’t go dismissed as he wanders down winding corridors, despite thoughts of discoveries flitting ‘round mind [ how exciting! ]. ❝ You don’t need to speak for me to guess the question. ❞ Barely a glance is spared towards the child, though he does halt his stride. No escaping this little man once he’d chosen to follow the scientist.
His laboratory wouldn’t be quiet today, it seemed. But perhaps that wasn’t a bad thing [ he could tolerate him a while ]. ❝ Just promise me you won’t make any mess, nor touch what you shouldn’t. ❞ His warning announced, arm pulls away from the boy so hand can pat the top of his head. ❝ No setting off the spear again, am I clear? ❞
Such a misfortune it had been. The instance prior to when Kishou's far too high attentiveness and interest, had set off something he should have never touched in the first place. It had, indeed, taken a few days for him to finally come down from his mental tumult. To have his own brother manage and coax him out so that he would go back and visit who had urgently tried to calm him down. The whole story had not gone beyond the scientist and Kishou's own family involved [ but of course, he knows that the Noblesse may know, and he supposes the Kertia's family leader does as well ] and - perchance - that was good so.
"...I won't." Barely above a whisper when head lowers, eyes stare at the ground for a moment until the scientist would place hand upon his head. It takes a breath longer, a blink or two, till he glances up, smiling if at all so faintly, so lightly. "Can I... help you with something?"
@white-reaper - random starter bcs ilu
❝ My dearest. Do you truly believe you can hide behind that book of yours forever? ❞ Settling her head onto his lap, she stares at the cover. Poetry. Delightful. And almost expected of him. ❝ Your attention. I desire it. ❞ Plucking it out of his hold, the half-ghoul flips through a few pages before closing it. Throws it down to the other end of the sofa, discarding it in the hopes he would not seek it anew.
❝ And something like a piece of literature, appreciated though it is, cannot stop me from taking it. ❞
Book that finds itself discarded barely had held any attention at all in the first place now left forgotten at the end of sofa and his wandering gaze drawn back towards the little half-ghoul that so brazenly took her place of wish. It's nothing new, nothing he would be bothered by, a way of interacting they both had established for themselves and were as surprisingly casual as it seemed to indicate a bit more for anybody that would spectate [ and yet still? there was nothing ].
"I did not." Soft and low how he always spoke, Eto's assumptions to be for nought. If she wanted something, she would take it. "And why may you do that, I wonder?" Was she bored? Perhaps. But his hand does reach out and merely curl and thread through fine strands of hair. "Or do you desire to off-set whoever may stumble upon us?"
✋ Touch the back of my muse’s hand + 🐈 Lean against my muse’s side | @white-reaper
He is warmer to the man’s touch tonight, which is only the slightest unusual knowing Kain is a main bothered perpetually by the cold. No doubt the heat has come from a late-night soak in the bath, the mystery of that much betrayed by the few strands of his hair that still shine wet against his nape while he busies his hands with the making of a drink. And truly it is so very late to be awake, taking baths, making drinks–but Kain was never one to be bothered with time and the propriety of which. It only surprises him that Kishou is similarly lively at this small hour. A palm slipping over the delicate bones of his knuckles, the warrior’s impressive physique crowded close to his side and the faintest hum of his breath that Kain can hear in the silence–all things that bring the devil to briefly abandon the unfinished glass on the bar.
“I couldn’t be still tonight,” he explains into the soft amber light when his head tilts aside and his cheek grazes the white of the warrior’s hair, “but that is nothing you have not come to expect from me. It’s always by far more unusual for me to see you roaming around at this hour. Are you quite well?” He laughs, though the sound is almost nothing with how softly it is pronounced against the man’s ear when Kain tilts to mouth and kiss at its shell, leans into the reaper’s warmth, flexes those fingers caught under Kishou’s broader hand. “Would a drink for yourself be any desire of yours now that you’re here?”
Undoubtfully had he expected it. These small whims and changes in his partner's momentary luxuries of being far beyond humanity's needs and desires [ and feeling quite so human in the same breath ]. Had anticipated them when awoken from what could barely have been called sleep and had stirred himself to a rise knowing that a body had been missing from his side. So steps took Kishou around to finding that very phantom in the middle of an otherwise completely silent bar, only the fine chime of glass being set close to one another, ringing out from high and colourful forms of bottles glinting in whatever light Kain would have wanted to illuminate his form and surrounding with, was the sole song to dance to. "I am." All that falls from his lips when he tends to his own partner in ways as quiet as the nothingness of a newborn day. Barely beyond midnight, when they stand and dwell within their own thoughts.
When he touches him and shifts barely, hand then removes itself from fine structure of wrist and fingers just to wind around that slender waist when Kain kisses him in that reverent and attentive softness. Free one merely curling in fingers, settling upon the bar's dark-wood surface. "I would love to. Thank you." And if one were to listen to their faint whispers of courtesy, might just as well think them to be out of a dream - escaped and free and still so bound to the here and now. It's enough to hum a mindful tune before he places kiss upon his lover's temple. "What is on your mind that you wander at a time like this?"
“ i killed a man, he’s never gonna see his daughter. i feel bad, you know he had a pretty little family. ”
An audience is not a problem. She knows that someday, all eyes would be upon her person, judging her, evaluating her worth as a leader – the pressure could be unrelenting and she should do well to begin being accustomed to it. However, there is a little divergence when it comes to the younger noble’s observance, that is, she wishes to show the best of her abilities. The other noble children are far too young to be around her, and those that are her age are scarcely around to accompany her. Thus, Kishou is perhaps one of few who would still keep her company without fear of her future position.
❝ Hnn, who taught you to use flattery? ❞ And even if it’s not so common to have such casual talk between the heir to a throne and their future subject, Raskreia is hardly one to nitpick at such details. In fact, she prefers it. ❝ Very well. As you insist. However… ❞ Turning on her heel, taking a practice swing at the air, the edges of her mouth would curl slightly into an amused smile. ❝ That you would take your stand against my word, I will respect. There is no harm in letting you try out a few techniques. Are you prepared for the challenge, Kishou? ❞
Who did so, indeed? Frankly, it had been his brother and a certain scientist [ even if unlikely thinking that Kishou would use it in ways like these ]. Enough to make a small smile appear on his face, now that the future Lord would shed layers of trained distance just in engaging with him for a while. Not quite the same age they were, but close enough to have a friendly banter here and there [ no matter that others would chide the young noble for it ], before she raises words of challenge towards his person.
A sparring, hu? At least it sounded like it - and why let a chance like this one fly by now that it presented itself? It would be dire oversight to not know about his proficiency with swords and other weaponry [ lances, spears, daggers even - the family leaders taking a liking to him ], so soon enough he would lift himself with an eager nod. "I am, indeed." It was not hard to see she would win if they truly would but their mind to it [ now, wasn't it true? ], when he had found a practice weapon of his own, taking a stand just opposite of the heir's own. And if any had even indulged in the thought of simple omission? Now the young Washuu's stance, the way he holds weaponry quickly caught?
Oh, it would be easy to see, that this was all else but a game they would play.
