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vorbo from my bl comic ([personal profile] affal) wrote2022-02-13 11:43 pm
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inutilis: (✞ pawns.)

[personal profile] inutilis 2022-06-15 03:35 am (UTC)(link)
[ it says a great deal that Abel almost fails to recognize the fact that the tender has come to their little out-of-the-way table; his attentions remain attached to Makoto even as the demon offers an all too easy smile, sociable and pleasant, to the Venerian. it comes to him with grace, a poise, that speaks to the familiarity behind this routine.

...Abel trips his way into a smile of his own belatedly as he's prompted for his choice, quickly and distractedly ordering whatever ale is on tap -- he isn't an especially picky man, and nor does he have much interest in the way of drinking, truth be told. it is a means to an end, a social endeavor, a pass time that brings people together. he had wanted an excuse to meet with Makoto -- and he'd gotten one. it served its purpose.

the man is forgotten before he can even fully retreat back behind the bar to see to fulfilling their orders; Abel once more has eyes for the demon and the demon alone. it's obvious that Makoto's answer to his prompting has left him... unsettled. uneasy. concerned, the sort that creases at one's brow and leaves something pinched in the eye. ]


The 'why'... it's important to me.

[ 'to me.' because he had not come here for his allies, nor would he be telling a soul of this meeting unless things should go terribly and horribly awry. he does not anticipate it to. it shouldn't; the priest is aware he can be a fool, but... to miscalculate that badly would be sincerely deplorable. ]

There is a difference between taking a life out of anger or hatred, or out of fear. There's a difference between defending yourself and putting one out of their misery, as well. It doesn't change the end result, and it won't change the inevitable consequences, but... it still matters, Mr. M. It does.

[ does Makoto believe otherwise...? ]
lockedon: pid 30575014 (046)

[personal profile] lockedon 2022-06-16 02:02 am (UTC)(link)
[ He accepts the sympathies silently, a hazy acknowledgement passed through the mindscape all the answer Makoto gets. It's a problem, most certainly, but one that can't be dealt with now, especially not when they all have so much on their plates with regards to getting to a place of safety.

His injuries are minor, all things considered, a few scrapes and bruises he would never even think of asking for healing for, but the particular lead-in to Makoto's offer, right on the heels of his own (apparently incorrect) assumptions, has him pausing, suspicion bleeding through his end of the Communion. Not towards Makoto but towards the entity that had caused all this, arriving and then vanishing as quickly as it had come. ]


What sort of personal cost?
inutilis: (✞ meandering minds.)

[personal profile] inutilis 2022-06-16 02:29 am (UTC)(link)
[ the small, subtle tells of Makoto's inner musings are things Abel absorbs with rapt attention, a slender finger lifting to gently and absently prod the old-fashioned lenses upright where they sit on his nose. the blue eyes behind them carry all the usual affability, no edge of hardness or condemnation as he listens and takes in the demon's explanation of events. but...

...there is a slow, telling slope of his shoulders that belies his dejection. whether it is in hearing the re-telling of Estinien's undoing from another angle, the violence that had broken out at the Sovereign shrine, or Makoto's perspective - his duress - that elicits such a response matters not. because it isn't any of these things, truthfully, that has the stirrings of grief and the slow sink of understanding settling in the priest's stomach. the thing that does it... it's the roiling churn of a bitter, insatiable rage - the sort that does not brew from one instance of indignation, humiliation, or agony. it is the kind forged through many. innumerable. unending counts of them all, stacking up one another, driving the last in just a little deeper than the one before it.

Abel is quiet in the wake of Makoto's impassioned explanation.

his gaze has managed to fixate at some unimportant, unseen point at the tabletop between them. the demon has made no effort to paint his actions as forgivable - in fact, perhaps there is some vitriolic pride in his actions, a lack of remorse that might make another listener bristle. but this, too, speaks to something laying beneath the surface... something that exists, resides, is swept up in the current of wrath burning in those inhuman eyes. the priest knows better than most precisely what it is, knows that in almost all cases... those whose actions are dictated by, demanded by that righteous, indignant, possessed fury--

are no less susceptible to being consumed, devoured, seared to ash in those flames. ]


...I believe you.

[ it is important to acknowledge this, first and foremost: he appreciates "M" was candid with him. he did not mince words, nor did he paint some favorable picture to garner the priest's sympathy - one they both know might've been rather easily won. the truth is not always pretty, but it is necessary, and contrary to what one might discern about Abel - it is important to look reality in the eye, to him. ]

And I believe you when you say you have no regrets, either. That... that frightens me for you far more than your ability to take his life - not because it speaks to any lack of soul, or because I hoped you felt remorse. But because I know you've tossed yourself right into the fire with such veracity I worry you cannot feel yourself burning, Mr. M.
inutilis: (✞ softspoken.)

[personal profile] inutilis 2022-06-21 02:22 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Makoto's inability to comprehend Abel's response is predictable, even if it only further speaks to the dissonance lurking inside the demon. with each passing second, with each minute alteration of the Kenoma's expression, with each faint and subtle twitch or tension, involuntary or otherwise - Makoto expresses what he would not put to words. Abel knew it, of course; he would not have said what he did without feeling confident on the subject. he would never presume to have the other man 'figured out,' or even claim to have some deep, solid grasp of his person--

but he knows what someone in pain looks like. he knows what it is to see someone who had been beaten down by his reality, discarded and deemed 'lesser' by others. the insecurity, the inferiority it brews is the truth behind that ruffled pride, Abel thinks; whether he's right or wrong - it doesn't matter. these are his beliefs today, sitting here at this table alongside his friend.

whatever Abel might offer in the way of answer to Makoto's statement is interrupted by the return of the barman who mumbles something almost too low to make out about 'not causing trouble,' sliding their drinks of choice onto the table for each before once more taking his leave. it seems none here are especially interested in lingering at the booth against the far wall.

the priest ignores this delivery for the moment, eyes still fixed somewhere unseeing upon the tabletop - and though the din of the tavern is little more than a subdued buzz of background noise, his voice is so soft as to almost become swallowed by it. ]


Do you believe you have nothing left to lose...?

[ that he had thrown himself into the flames, already found himself consumed by them in their entirety - perhaps even believed that he had done so willingly? does he believe he's mastered it - the feeling of his insides being rendered to a charred, spiteful content that only need survive long enough to see his objective through?

what a sad, horrid thought. ]


If that's the case... if that's truly what you think-- if you really believe that... I fear you'll discover there is always something more to lose, in time.

[ though his hands finally come to reach out and cup the frosted mug and to drag it toward him absently, it is apparent that his attention remains on the youth with those inhuman eyes. ]

Numbing yourself to the pain of being flayed alive-- it's issuing a challenge. It's asking the universe to teach you that you can feel a pain far worse. And... I don't want to see you suffer it. I don't want you to see what comes next if you continue down the path you've chosen.
lockedon: (056)

[personal profile] lockedon 2022-06-23 01:58 am (UTC)(link)
[ That sounds highly inconvenient, to say the least. The deepening of his frown makes itself known through the displeasure that pulses through their shared Communion, as well as the instinctive urge to pull back as soon as Makoto demonstrates just exactly how his newfound talent works. ]

I'd rather you not find out while we're here.

[ While the streets are still in enough disarray that anything could happen. Though surely Makoto feels the same way, so there's not much point in voicing that particular concern. ]

Do you need someone to help you find a clear path back?

[ Not him, because.....well, but surely someone else nearby is able to (and also not inclined to drop Makoto off at some unsuspecting location, thanks Binghe). ]
lockedon: (027)

[personal profile] lockedon 2022-06-27 02:36 am (UTC)(link)
[ There's a little blip of surprise at the professed method of return, but Eustace smothers it quick enough. ]

I didn't know you could fly.

[ Seems convenient. Also not something he'll dig too deeply into for the time being, both of them with more than enough on their individual plates to engage in a pointless interrogation now. ]

I'll be fine. If there's anything you need, let me know. I'll...

[ There's a pause on the other end as he grimaces at himself, his frustration at himself for ending up the way he had leaking through during the beat of silence. ]

I'll find someone who can help.

[ Since he can't in good conscience offer his own help right now, given the state he's in. ]
inutilis: (✞ quiet observations.)

i had to use Brain Juice for this tag, pls forgive the delay 😔🧠⛔

[personal profile] inutilis 2022-06-28 02:43 am (UTC)(link)
[ the trickle of laughter that seems to leave Makoto of its own volition is... perplexing, to say the least. Abel doesn't quite understand, isn't quite in on the joke - but perhaps it's for the best, all things considered. if he knew just whose sentiments he had closely parroted...

ignorance is bliss, so the saying goes.

he shifts his weight as his company finally partakes of his drink, mimicking the demon and taking a tentative sip of his own as Abel raises the glass to his lips, cupped between both hands; it should be quite obvious he barely tastes it for the way his fixation remains on the Kenoma. the gears are turning, Abel permitting Makoto's question to ferment as he imbibes.

and by the time he's settled the glass back upon the tabletop, absently sliding the pad of his finger against the condensation beginning to bead... Abel's shoulders have briefly heaved with the weight of a silent sigh. his thoughts have been ordered as best they'll get, right now. he must shelf the question for now; all in all... if the only thing he can do right now is this? then... ]


Would you agree with them?

[ Abel once more scrutinizes the young man, expression schooled to give away little more than the priest's usual fare: a quiet concern. a gentility, all hard edges another might have in his place... softened. there is still no judgment or condemnation in his gaze, but perhaps there is that sharpness - something that makes one feel seen, inside. ]

...Would you answer me honestly if that's what I was to ask you next?

[ do you really believe you deserve it, Makoto? ]
inutilis: (✞ sympathetic hearts.)

kissy faces at u disgustingly

[personal profile] inutilis 2022-07-04 01:35 am (UTC)(link)
[ there is some kind of terrible irony, here, in Makoto preaching about consequences. it's someone else's favorite word, that: consequences, and Abel can't help but find a little curl of mirth to hear it coming from the lips of another Kenoma. he can't refute the accuracy of the statement all the same - Makoto is correct, underlying amusement aside; one reaps what they sow.

but in Abel's mind, it isn't always as simple as that. once upon a time... perhaps it had been. he has grown, learned a great deal since those days; he would like to believe it has permitted him to broaden his perspectives and widen his ability to grasp nuance in situations he might not have, otherwise - but he doesn't believe it makes him any wiser or more astute than the demon seated across the table. if anything it merely means that he has come to accept a view of the world that Makoto's life experiences have not guided him toward.

whether it might, one day, or whether Makoto would be a victim of his circumstances, driven further and further down this hole to that lowest low... Abel cannot say. but he can hope, and yes - even pray for a different conclusion to the demon's tale.

there is something softly miserable in the priest's expression as he studies the liquid in the chilled glass between his hands; it seems he is well aware the potential consequences of Makoto's actions. but that isn't the point of this particular thread Abel has tugged at in asking if the Kenoma felt he worthy of those consequences; while some part of him, perhaps, is grateful to hear Makoto dismiss the prospect of self-loathing, it leaves something equally worrying in its stead. ]


Then, if you'll humor me--

[ it seems the glass and drink they are to share has been all but forgotten; it will surely grow an unpleasant lukewarm at this rate. but Abel cares little; he finds he is singularly interested in something else at this table, after all. ]

...How do you feel now, Mr. M? Do you feel you were... justified, in retrospect? Do you feel Estinien deserved what came to him as he was?

[ Abel's friend laid out the circumstances from his perspective, filled out the details regarding a motivation Abel had not been privy to prior to this meeting. but... when all lies in the rearview mirror--

did any of that give him the satisfaction Makoto had been so after? had it soothed bruised pride? does any part of him feel any regret, remorse, for the method by which the dragoon was undone - weakened and already suffering at the hands of those who had come before him? does any of it truly matter to Makoto at all? how far does this hole inside of him go?

and... was it worth it? would Makoto say it is worth what he's set in inevitable motion?

perhaps Abel is not interested in the answer insomuch as he is looking for something else, something he can find only through observing Makoto's deliberation before delivery of his reply. and it is one he is watching, waiting for, as beads of water slip down the forgotten glass in his hands, the rest of the tavern good as faded away to background static. ]
inutilis: (✞ winter.)

[personal profile] inutilis 2022-07-06 07:05 pm (UTC)(link)
[ there is, as ever, a sort of detachment between the Makoto that sits at the table, animated and gregarious, and who this young man truly is inside. Abel knows it - sees it in the brief glimmers of the person lurking beneath the facade, one he cannot help but compare to a wounded child. bitter and angry and furious, writhing and violently striking out like a venomous viper, desperate to be seen and heard and feared--

lest his own fear, inadequacy, insecurity, consume him.

Abel's gaze remains absent, distant, where it sits on the demon across the table for longer than is comfortable in silence; there is a great deal Makoto has left him to digest and a great more that will take time to come to terms with despite that. it wouldn't be right to respond hastily, he feels. he will think on all of it - every last bit "M" has seen fit to give him.

but one thing must be clear. ]


This is not Hell, Mr. M. This is not your home, and that man is not a monster.

[ the gentility of the delivery has not vanished, but its edges are notably firmer, now. but the subtle flat affect of his voice is abnormal, now - and perhaps it makes him seem older, somehow. harder. ]

The war we fought in Venera was not one against one another, but ourselves - and they say a man shows his true colors in moments like that one. I fear the choice you made is not one that speaks to the strength of your character, but its weakness. He deserved better than you gave him.

[ his hands slowly loosen from the glass still left relatively untouched. ]

Estinien did not demean you half as much as you demeaned - continue to demean - yourself with this kind of talk. You deserve better than this, don't you?
inutilis: (✞ bitter pills.)

[personal profile] inutilis 2022-07-14 06:04 pm (UTC)(link)
[ the abrupt and sudden chill steeping into Makoto's gaze is met with unflappable neutrality. it doesn't touch upon indifference, but perhaps it comes close. for a man who is so thoroughly moved by the feelings of others, this lack of response to the palpably violent surge that springs forward from his company is... strange, perhaps.

but Abel's expression truly offers little about his thoughts, his position on Makoto's reply nor the effectiveness of the priest's statement. instead, Abel merely extends a brief bob of his head in assent, acknowledgement. he is a patient creature; he has said his piece and he has heard Makoto's in turn. whatever seeds this conversation had planted are more than enough for now.

in the end, the only thing Abel has to give is the slight, subtle, easy-to-miss creep of grief underlying the guarded veil. he is... admittedly-- sad. yes; he is sad - because he understands precisely what lies beyond this knee-jerk reaction of the demon's. the bitter sting of a wounded pride, the involuntary screeching cry of indignation, of perceived insult is clear as day in those inhuman eyes. Abel had not come here to hurt M, but... ]


Whatever you take from this table... nothing has changed for me. I will still fight for you.

[ that is his promise... and, perhaps, these are the first words spoken with any genuine steel in his voice - as quiet as they may be. ]

Even against yourself.

communion; a few days after soviseri event (27th+)

[personal profile] expiera 2022-07-29 05:43 am (UTC)(link)
[It's likely not a call he's expecting, but it comes all the same.]

M. Do you have a moment? I have a favor to ask of you, it relates to the Innocence entity.

[It's businesslike and gets straight to the point without vapid pleasantries, Ciel does make sure to include a hook that should get the demon's attention without concerning herself with whether or not he's heard of the "big news". She doesn't think he'd turn it down, but demons being demons... Only one way to tell.]
passio: (pic#12134221)

communion, the last day of the soviseri event

[personal profile] passio 2022-07-29 06:00 am (UTC)(link)
[ dextera doesn’t even wait for everything to come to an end. he can maintain his purification for a while, but he can’t do it while he sleeps and ice will melt in time.

once he’s back in godsblood, safe away from anyone who might have seen him in venera, he withdraws his shard.

the message he sends makoto is a bit unlike his usual—he’s still skittish, afraid of being caught. rather than words, dextera conveys a series of impressions and emotions. it’s all in images like a montage: the guard he chose, the murder itself. dextera’s heavy breaths and his own hands carefully extracting all he can find in tact. he particularly lingers on the heart, savoring the way it continues to beat for some moments longer than the person himself has lived. in dextera’s memory, shown to makoto through this, the color is a bright and unnatural red.

he’s careful about the way he sets it aside in his mind, and with all those thoughts given, dextera knows makoto will understand. ]


I have something for you. When you have time…

[ as if there wasn’t a battle between their factions. ]
passio: (pic#6016793)

not me forgetting the cw

[personal profile] passio 2022-07-29 07:19 am (UTC)(link)
[ dextera understood the initial delay, considering their circumstances, but he’s surprised to feel pain in makoto’s response when it comes. he had managed to keep away from the thick of it all, more out of self-preservation than cowardice, and while he didn’t escape unscathed, his wounds aren’t so deep that he can’t continue his daily activities.

and when he does partake of this morbid feast he’s collected for himself and makoto both, he’ll be perfectly normal again. the proximity to life will restore him in ways no magic spell could, and even if it isn’t the same for makoto, dextera understands there’s value in it nonetheless. ]




[ dextera still begins to inquire whether or not makoto is okay, but he stops himself with the acknowledgment that he’ll find out soon enough what makoto’s physical condition is like. ]

I don’t want anyone else to see.

[ in other words, they need to choose their meeting place carefully—a given, perhaps, but also an indication that dextera feels some shame and anxiety over the gesture despite committing to it enough to arrive here. ]

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