( at the message's first arrival, it seems as though it will not be accepted at the receiver's end.
makoto has been sparing in those that he has spoken with via Communion since the climactic events that occurred in Venera; to those whose (perceived) vested interests in reaching out to him that don't meet his internal standard, he either rejects or speaks very cautiously to. from those of the Pleroma, he's only spoken to dextera... but abel. there is something in him that reflexively recoils, an archaic and uncomfortable sort of panic rattling at his ribcage — it reminds him most of when he was still human, fearfully hiding macabre books in his room, knowing full well the blatant scorn he would receive when his parents found them.
the primary difference being that that boy hadn't wanted to hurt anyone; he would rather accept death himself than be compelled to kill someone else. pathetic creature. the demon M no longer feels the same, or at the very least he tells himself that, interring his past self in a coffin of plaster.
he feels no remorse because he tells himself he shouldn't; in his own personal context of leveling scales and inter-dimensional war, he was justified. so why is he... afraid to answer this call? couldn't he simply present himself to his good "friend" as he is, careless and confident, heedless of what he might say or feel? oh, if it were so simple. perhaps the veneer of makoto's demonic visage isn't so perfect as he wishes. there are still seams that he can't mend, and within them a latent seed: the knowing fear of rejection, paired foolishly with the undying part of him that still yearned for understanding... not that he would expect such a thing now, and from abel of all people.
and yet...
it's not necessarily a "response" to his previous inquiry, given a few hours have passed, but abel receives his own message pending from M. if accepted, it is heavily guarded, as if the channel of Communion had been narrowed to a single slot that messages could just barely be passed through.
cautiously: ) Abel.
( he just can't seem to turn his back on him entirely. a personal failing, perhaps. )
no subject
makoto has been sparing in those that he has spoken with via Communion since the climactic events that occurred in Venera; to those whose (perceived) vested interests in reaching out to him that don't meet his internal standard, he either rejects or speaks very cautiously to. from those of the Pleroma, he's only spoken to dextera... but abel. there is something in him that reflexively recoils, an archaic and uncomfortable sort of panic rattling at his ribcage — it reminds him most of when he was still human, fearfully hiding macabre books in his room, knowing full well the blatant scorn he would receive when his parents found them.
the primary difference being that that boy hadn't wanted to hurt anyone; he would rather accept death himself than be compelled to kill someone else. pathetic creature. the demon M no longer feels the same, or at the very least he tells himself that, interring his past self in a coffin of plaster.
he feels no remorse because he tells himself he shouldn't; in his own personal context of leveling scales and inter-dimensional war, he was justified. so why is he... afraid to answer this call? couldn't he simply present himself to his good "friend" as he is, careless and confident, heedless of what he might say or feel? oh, if it were so simple. perhaps the veneer of makoto's demonic visage isn't so perfect as he wishes. there are still seams that he can't mend, and within them a latent seed: the knowing fear of rejection, paired foolishly with the undying part of him that still yearned for understanding... not that he would expect such a thing now, and from abel of all people.
and yet...
it's not necessarily a "response" to his previous inquiry, given a few hours have passed, but abel receives his own message pending from M. if accepted, it is heavily guarded, as if the channel of Communion had been narrowed to a single slot that messages could just barely be passed through.
cautiously: ) Abel.
( he just can't seem to turn his back on him entirely. a personal failing, perhaps. )