( His expression does something complicated, like he knows Choso is right and yet still has to fight himself not to throw a tantrum about it. There's something specifically torturous about it. The itch of scar tissue growing haunting every step. There's no other alternative, he has to. But he also kind of hates it. )
I picked at scabs when I was younger. A bad habit.
( But he snorts and it eases the weight. )
But all right, I'll take aboard your counsel. I know better than to ignore late night advice over cigarettes.
[ what is time to a creature who spent lifetimes in the yawning dark? what is time to a man who has only just begun to understand the workings of the living world first-hand? the word doesn't hold the same kind of weight behind it.
but with the snort and Geto's capitulation, he still smiles around his cigarette, burnt mostly down to the filter. ]
If you need help not picking, you can always call me. I'll bring more smokes, and even hold your painted hand if you like.
stubbing out his own cigarette, choso holds up the little can acting as an ashtray. ]
Do Yuji’s nails too, so we can match.
[ it’s a little like reciting a charm, this. ‘do yuji’s’ because they will bring him back. do it because they all will come back. do it because it will all be well. ]
( It sounds nice. He's not entirely sure what to do with it, but it's better than the not, and so he'll take it. Although possibly his space for growth has run out, because he stretches, miming a yawn. )
Ai, I should go to bed. It's late. Get some sleep tonight, Choso-san. Eat your leftovers. Don't do anything stupid. I don't need too many rescue missions.
Right, right. I won’t keep mama up from his beauty sleep any longer.
[ because nipping back with teeth is easier, somehow, than just saying thanks. because he doesn’t know yet what to make of it, this strange lightness in his chest.
he’d started out up here with a head full of snarled tangles and a heart as heavy as stone, but now the night smells of cooling oyakodon and cigarette smoke and there is a warmth in his ribs he has not felt for a long time now. ]
When you go, try to scare the monks off on your way down; they complain too much if they catch me hanging around.
You know what, it's fine. He'll accept it. He has nice hair. He summons his curse again without a passing thought, giving Choso what can only be described as a leer. ) Scare them off, you say? ( Hopping back onto it's back, leaning back. ) If you insist ~.
( The curse carries him away before there's time to protest, but don't worry. He'll only make up some kind of excuse for the monks to go elsewhere. No monkeys harmed today. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
( His expression does something complicated, like he knows Choso is right and yet still has to fight himself not to throw a tantrum about it. There's something specifically torturous about it. The itch of scar tissue growing haunting every step. There's no other alternative, he has to. But he also kind of hates it. )
I picked at scabs when I was younger. A bad habit.
( But he snorts and it eases the weight. )
But all right, I'll take aboard your counsel. I know better than to ignore late night advice over cigarettes.
no subject
but with the snort and Geto's capitulation, he still smiles around his cigarette, burnt mostly down to the filter. ]
If you need help not picking, you can always call me. I'll bring more smokes, and even hold your painted hand if you like.
no subject
Maybe I'll paint yours for you, mm? I know a few fancy tricks. My daughters rated me highly.
( Choso can have flowers painted on his, if he'd like ~. )
no subject
Hmm. Perhaps. Show me what could impress a daughter in anything but blue.
no subject
( Cigarette stubbed out. )
I'll have to buy some. Maybe after all of this is done.
no subject
[ Yuji’s hair is pink. what a perfect colour.
stubbing out his own cigarette, choso holds up the little can acting as an ashtray. ]
Do Yuji’s nails too, so we can match.
[ it’s a little like reciting a charm, this. ‘do yuji’s’ because they will bring him back. do it because they all will come back. do it because it will all be well. ]
no subject
( It sounds nice. He's not entirely sure what to do with it, but it's better than the not, and so he'll take it. Although possibly his space for growth has run out, because he stretches, miming a yawn. )
Ai, I should go to bed. It's late. Get some sleep tonight, Choso-san. Eat your leftovers. Don't do anything stupid. I don't need too many rescue missions.
no subject
[ because nipping back with teeth is easier, somehow, than just saying thanks. because he doesn’t know yet what to make of it, this strange lightness in his chest.
he’d started out up here with a head full of snarled tangles and a heart as heavy as stone, but now the night smells of cooling oyakodon and cigarette smoke and there is a warmth in his ribs he has not felt for a long time now. ]
When you go, try to scare the monks off on your way down; they complain too much if they catch me hanging around.
no subject
You know what, it's fine. He'll accept it. He has nice hair. He summons his curse again without a passing thought, giving Choso what can only be described as a leer. ) Scare them off, you say? ( Hopping back onto it's back, leaning back. ) If you insist ~.
( The curse carries him away before there's time to protest, but don't worry. He'll only make up some kind of excuse for the monks to go elsewhere. No monkeys harmed today. )