[Was the priest still wanting confirmation that he was unique and cherished and adored? Certainly, Mukuro had gone after humans before, but few had resisted him as much as the priest had. When he had taken a human guise in the past, it had mostly been for fun or out of boredom.
He gave a small sigh, burying his face slightly into the couch.]
Most haven't been as challenging as you have been, Chikusa Kakimoto. Does it please you to know you alone have been chosen like this?
[If it wasn't Mukuro, Chikusa guesses he'd feel guilty about his frustration... But it's Mukuro, so no such thing. Instead, he crosses one arm over his chest and continues to sip from his mug.]
What happened to them?
[Because 'most' still implies a presence of ones that came before him.]
[Which wasn't really an answer, and would probably hurt him in the long run, but what else could he say? They had been short sighted, for the most part, and had traded their mortal lives for an eternity. Some of them he still saw from time to time, but it wasn't as if Mukuro had grown particularly close to them. No, death had changed them, twisted them. It was a glorious thing, but one that had rendered their contracts practically moot.
Mukuro turned to rest his gaze more fully on the priest's, mouth quirking slightly with what he hoped was self-depreciation.]
As you can imagine, an eternity is a long time to spend with someone, especially if they're like me.
...And that's why I say you can't give me what I want.
[It's not said as a condemnation, but a simple matter of fact. Chikusa looks back outside, sighing. He's not surprised by that answer, either the fates of those who came before him or what Mukuro's kind can stand for so long. He expected it.]
When I say "keep"... I mean it. If you were a human making human promises, things like until death do us part, I'd grant you that much, at least. But you're not human, despite the body you're using... and I have no interest in being tossed aside to be replaced by whatever shiny new mortal catches your attention next.
My, my, are you that attached to me already Chikusa Kakimoto?
[Mukuro sat up, expression politely interested as he surveyed the priest's face.]
Know this, priest: I have never become mortal for another before. I can promise you this: for as long as you will have me, I will be there for you. Is that enough for you?
[Because he was sure the priest would tire of him first, or, like most other mortals, once he was introduced to sin he would climb to even greater heights. Perhaps with multiple partners. For all humanity's fears about the appetites of demons, one need look no further than a corrupted human to know true depravity.]
[...It could be a lie. He knows it could be. At the same time, he knows demons, and he knows that the difficulties Mukuro speaks of when it comes to possession and good deeds aren't falsehoods. Finding a suitable body to consensually possess, one that isn't falling apart at the seams like human bodies do under forced possession, putting together a home for his mortal body and tracking him down...]
[There's weight to his words, now, and Chikusa doesn't know what to do with it all. He swallows, gaze centered on but not seeing the world outside his apartment.]
...I've dedicated all my life to God since I was young. I can't throw it all away just like that...
[Even if it's possibly the most tempting thing he's ever heard out of the demon's mouth.]
[Mukuro stood, slowly and smoothly, as if any sudden movement might cause the priest to start and run. He came to join him by the doorway, keeping a respectable distance between them, but his lashes were lowered, his mouth curved up in a soft smirk.]
Your god is dead and couldn't care less about how you live your life or what you do. There's no need to ask permission or forgiveness from an entity that doesn't exist.
[Perhaps the comparison, too apt to that of a skittish animal, is well founded. Mukuro stands, and Chikusa's gaze is tentative as it flicks up to him from beneath his bangs. Maybe there's even a desire to hear something that will convince him, that will set in stone that he can truly get what he's never been able to have before.]
[In the end, of course, it's the same thing as always, and his expression turns cold again as he shifts until his back is to the demon.]
[Ah, of course he couldn't expect such words to be of comfort to a priest who was actually devote. Mukuro sighed softly as he turned away heading back towards the kitchen.]
What else would you like to hear from me priest, priest? My words are still lies, no matter what, aren't they?
[He headed towards the table to rinse out his cup, then gently pocketed the sketch he had been given so it hopefully wouldn't crease.]
It's getting late. I'll leave you to your busy plans.
[What else indeed... After a few seconds of keeping to himself, he turns around again to stare back at the demo.]
...They're not always lies. That's the part which makes this difficult.
[If they were all lies, then simple, he could comfortably stay devoted to God and live his life as he's always done. If they were truths, then.... who knows what, then. But this? This only leaves him awkwardly placed between two very different paths.]
[He doesn't want such uncertainty.]
...Do you plan on forcing a visit again some time soon?
Then you should believe that I'm not interested in leaving you on your own, nor is there any other who could replace you.
[The words were said idly, though Mukuro kept his gaze even on the priest's face, as if the weight of his stare alone would make those words heavy enough to sink in and take root.
He ran a hand through his hair, turning away with a small sigh at the priest's rude choice of words.]
If you feel like it's forced upon you, I'll let you pick the next time and place for our meeting. I'll leave you alone for the next few weeks, if it pleases you, Chikusa Kakimoto.
[That and he would be out of town. Just because he didn't have any mortals to replace the priest with didn't mean he didn't have commitments. Being in one body was putting a damper on how many contracts and deals he was able to maintain with mortals, and some of them were very demanding.
He headed towards the door, turning to wave idly at the priest.]
["rude" you mean true as hell mister "i'm going to hunt down where you live and then come over without invitation", don't lie to him]
[Not that such things are on his mind, not as Mukuro stares right into him and, for not the first time, he feels that hunger again. That same sensation, dark and full of need, which had curled in his stomach and flowed through his body as when the demon had said he wasn't letting go of him. It's a feeling that he's been trying to bury ever since then.]
[After all... It's the kind of feeling that makes him want to give in. To get on his knees and beg instead of pray. To be ravaged and moan and fist his fingers in that hair to keep him close like he keeps promising...]
[It was at its worst right after he broke off their deal, when he was angry and frustrated and wanting. In contrast, this is more of a low shimmer as he watches Mukuro walk away and only belatedly remembers to follow after him.]
I'll let you know when a good time is, then. [A pause and then, tentatively-] Stay safe on your way home.
[It's the only thing he can think to say.]
[Chikusa takes a month for himself, once again going through the motions of his life while his mind drifts back towards Mukuro again and again. It's a pattern he didn't think he'd start up with again, but it can't be helped. If the demon is being true, being honest... If he could be kept, not left behind or shunned again, feel that pleasure like a promise...]
[...Sometimes it's hard to pray and still hear nothing when the demon's voice is still ringing in his ears.]
[Eventually, however, after going over it for an entire day, he stops fingering his phone and actually sends a text.]
[It can be true and rude! They're not mutually exclusive you know!
It's adorable that the priest wished him well on his way home, and Mukuro hadn't done more than nod at it before leaving, warmed by it as well as the knowledge that the priest would getting in contact with him soon enough.
As soon as he got home, he made sure to find a proper frame for the sketch and set it up in his kitchen, above where he usually kept his tea kettle and his various assorted teas. It clashed slightly with his decor, but wasn't that the whole point? To have a few personalized touches in his apartment than the sterile things he had picked out of a catalog.
His business took him to France ( where he payed a visit to one high maintenance woman who had laughed herself sick when she saw him in his new form, but would help him with his enterprises for a cut of them and his mouthy little apprentice ), and it went over without a hitch. He found himself impatient to return to the priest, even though there wasn't a call or text from him the whole time he was there.
There was nothing either, for the first few days he had returned to his apartment, and he had been ready to hunt down his contacts who had been keeping an eye on the priest when his phone finally buzzed.
The text was innocuous, but it made Mukuro smirk triumphantly all the same, letting it sit there unanswered for an hour or so before finally responding:]
[If an orgy was an option he'd definitely go for it. No surprise there. Instead, enjoy this:]
There's an interesting art exhibit this weekend. It might provide some entertainment. Or if you prefer something more mundane, some movies I want to see are still playing in the theater.
The museum is at [insert address here]. The exhibit is all day, so if you prefer, we can meet a little before noon and get lunch if you have time in your busy schedule.
[Look if kids these days could type out 'lol' or 'haha' is 'kufufu' really worse? I mean clearly it is but still. Also it's because he's sinfully hot.]
I'll see you there then, priest. You should wear a hat, I hear it's supposed to be cold.
[Mukuro himself was going to be bundled up rather warmly in gloves, a thick purple scarf, and a thick black peacoat. He was going to show up a few minutes before the predetermined meeting time, watching people pass by him in amusement, with none of the anxious head turning one normally did when waiting for someone.]
[And yet, despite his thoughts, he wears one as he comes up the sidewalk, a large paper folder tucked carefully under one arm. Dark blues are the mainstay of his outfit, from his coats to his pants, with the only exception being his black shoes. His hat, unfortunately for Mukuro, doesn't have a puff on it, but it is thickly knit and patterned.]
As soon as he spotted the priest, Mukuro's lips curved upwards, and he swanned towards him easily, cutting through the crowd of people. It wasn't his favorite hat, alas, but the pattern was rather charming and he had half-expected the priest not to wear one at all just to spite him.]
Glad you could make it, Chikusa Kakimoto. What's this?
[He looked at the folder curiously, coming to a halt in front of him.]
[It seemed simpler, after all, to bring it to him when they had already decided to meet somewhere. Arm crossed over his middle, he curls his fingers uncertainly against the folder.]
[For a moment, Mukuro's eyes widened in surprise, before he let out a small, smug chuckle.]
My, my priest, you're far too kind. Let me see it before you put it away.
[Since he had found the idea of driving a car abhorrent, mostly he'd been taking cabs everywhere, though every once in a while he didn't mind slumming it and riding on the bus. There were quite a few people on there who proved to be susceptible to manipulation and promises, and nothing compared to people watching on one.
He held his hand out for the folder, flicking his gaze up to the priest's.]
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badliifechoiice22016-01-08 10:36 am
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He gave a small sigh, burying his face slightly into the couch.]
Most haven't been as challenging as you have been, Chikusa Kakimoto. Does it please you to know you alone have been chosen like this?
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What happened to them?
[Because 'most' still implies a presence of ones that came before him.]
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[Which wasn't really an answer, and would probably hurt him in the long run, but what else could he say? They had been short sighted, for the most part, and had traded their mortal lives for an eternity. Some of them he still saw from time to time, but it wasn't as if Mukuro had grown particularly close to them. No, death had changed them, twisted them. It was a glorious thing, but one that had rendered their contracts practically moot.
Mukuro turned to rest his gaze more fully on the priest's, mouth quirking slightly with what he hoped was self-depreciation.]
As you can imagine, an eternity is a long time to spend with someone, especially if they're like me.
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[It's not said as a condemnation, but a simple matter of fact. Chikusa looks back outside, sighing. He's not surprised by that answer, either the fates of those who came before him or what Mukuro's kind can stand for so long. He expected it.]
When I say "keep"... I mean it. If you were a human making human promises, things like until death do us part, I'd grant you that much, at least. But you're not human, despite the body you're using... and I have no interest in being tossed aside to be replaced by whatever shiny new mortal catches your attention next.
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[Mukuro sat up, expression politely interested as he surveyed the priest's face.]
Know this, priest: I have never become mortal for another before. I can promise you this: for as long as you will have me, I will be there for you. Is that enough for you?
[Because he was sure the priest would tire of him first, or, like most other mortals, once he was introduced to sin he would climb to even greater heights. Perhaps with multiple partners. For all humanity's fears about the appetites of demons, one need look no further than a corrupted human to know true depravity.]
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[There's weight to his words, now, and Chikusa doesn't know what to do with it all. He swallows, gaze centered on but not seeing the world outside his apartment.]
...I've dedicated all my life to God since I was young. I can't throw it all away just like that...
[Even if it's possibly the most tempting thing he's ever heard out of the demon's mouth.]
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[Mukuro stood, slowly and smoothly, as if any sudden movement might cause the priest to start and run. He came to join him by the doorway, keeping a respectable distance between them, but his lashes were lowered, his mouth curved up in a soft smirk.]
Your god is dead and couldn't care less about how you live your life or what you do. There's no need to ask permission or forgiveness from an entity that doesn't exist.
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[In the end, of course, it's the same thing as always, and his expression turns cold again as he shifts until his back is to the demon.]
That, again?
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What else would you like to hear from me priest, priest? My words are still lies, no matter what, aren't they?
[He headed towards the table to rinse out his cup, then gently pocketed the sketch he had been given so it hopefully wouldn't crease.]
It's getting late. I'll leave you to your busy plans.
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...They're not always lies. That's the part which makes this difficult.
[If they were all lies, then simple, he could comfortably stay devoted to God and live his life as he's always done. If they were truths, then.... who knows what, then. But this? This only leaves him awkwardly placed between two very different paths.]
[He doesn't want such uncertainty.]
...Do you plan on forcing a visit again some time soon?
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[The words were said idly, though Mukuro kept his gaze even on the priest's face, as if the weight of his stare alone would make those words heavy enough to sink in and take root.
He ran a hand through his hair, turning away with a small sigh at the priest's rude choice of words.]
If you feel like it's forced upon you, I'll let you pick the next time and place for our meeting. I'll leave you alone for the next few weeks, if it pleases you, Chikusa Kakimoto.
[That and he would be out of town. Just because he didn't have any mortals to replace the priest with didn't mean he didn't have commitments. Being in one body was putting a damper on how many contracts and deals he was able to maintain with mortals, and some of them were very demanding.
He headed towards the door, turning to wave idly at the priest.]
Until next time, priest.
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[Not that such things are on his mind, not as Mukuro stares right into him and, for not the first time, he feels that hunger again. That same sensation, dark and full of need, which had curled in his stomach and flowed through his body as when the demon had said he wasn't letting go of him. It's a feeling that he's been trying to bury ever since then.]
[After all... It's the kind of feeling that makes him want to give in. To get on his knees and beg instead of pray. To be ravaged and moan and fist his fingers in that hair to keep him close like he keeps promising...]
[It was at its worst right after he broke off their deal, when he was angry and frustrated and wanting. In contrast, this is more of a low shimmer as he watches Mukuro walk away and only belatedly remembers to follow after him.]
I'll let you know when a good time is, then. [A pause and then, tentatively-] Stay safe on your way home.
[It's the only thing he can think to say.]
[Chikusa takes a month for himself, once again going through the motions of his life while his mind drifts back towards Mukuro again and again. It's a pattern he didn't think he'd start up with again, but it can't be helped. If the demon is being true, being honest... If he could be kept, not left behind or shunned again, feel that pleasure like a promise...]
[...Sometimes it's hard to pray and still hear nothing when the demon's voice is still ringing in his ears.]
[Eventually, however, after going over it for an entire day, he stops fingering his phone and actually sends a text.]
What day are you next free?
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It's adorable that the priest wished him well on his way home, and Mukuro hadn't done more than nod at it before leaving, warmed by it as well as the knowledge that the priest would getting in contact with him soon enough.
As soon as he got home, he made sure to find a proper frame for the sketch and set it up in his kitchen, above where he usually kept his tea kettle and his various assorted teas. It clashed slightly with his decor, but wasn't that the whole point? To have a few personalized touches in his apartment than the sterile things he had picked out of a catalog.
His business took him to France ( where he payed a visit to one high maintenance woman who had laughed herself sick when she saw him in his new form, but would help him with his enterprises for a cut of them and his mouthy little apprentice ), and it went over without a hitch. He found himself impatient to return to the priest, even though there wasn't a call or text from him the whole time he was there.
There was nothing either, for the first few days he had returned to his apartment, and he had been ready to hunt down his contacts who had been keeping an eye on the priest when his phone finally buzzed.
The text was innocuous, but it made Mukuro smirk triumphantly all the same, letting it sit there unanswered for an hour or so before finally responding:]
This Saturday. Should we make a day out of it?
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[He's half expecting a non-serious answer, such as an orgy suggestion, but he's prepared for it this time. Really.]
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There's an interesting art exhibit this weekend. It might provide some entertainment. Or if you prefer something more mundane, some movies I want to see are still playing in the theater.
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[It feels like a valid concern to have.]
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The theme is scenes from the Bible. However, if you're wanting something far more in line with my interests, I'm sure I could entertain you.
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The museum is at [insert address here]. The exhibit is all day, so if you prefer, we can meet a little before noon and get lunch if you have time in your busy schedule.
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That would be nice. Eleven then?
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I'll see you there then, priest. You should wear a hat, I hear it's supposed to be cold.
[Mukuro himself was going to be bundled up rather warmly in gloves, a thick purple scarf, and a thick black peacoat. He was going to show up a few minutes before the predetermined meeting time, watching people pass by him in amusement, with none of the anxious head turning one normally did when waiting for someone.]
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[And yet, despite his thoughts, he wears one as he comes up the sidewalk, a large paper folder tucked carefully under one arm. Dark blues are the mainstay of his outfit, from his coats to his pants, with the only exception being his black shoes. His hat, unfortunately for Mukuro, doesn't have a puff on it, but it is thickly knit and patterned.]
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As soon as he spotted the priest, Mukuro's lips curved upwards, and he swanned towards him easily, cutting through the crowd of people. It wasn't his favorite hat, alas, but the pattern was rather charming and he had half-expected the priest not to wear one at all just to spite him.]
Glad you could make it, Chikusa Kakimoto. What's this?
[He looked at the folder curiously, coming to a halt in front of him.]
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[It seemed simpler, after all, to bring it to him when they had already decided to meet somewhere. Arm crossed over his middle, he curls his fingers uncertainly against the folder.]
If you don't have a car, it can wait in mine.
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My, my priest, you're far too kind. Let me see it before you put it away.
[Since he had found the idea of driving a car abhorrent, mostly he'd been taking cabs everywhere, though every once in a while he didn't mind slumming it and riding on the bus. There were quite a few people on there who proved to be susceptible to manipulation and promises, and nothing compared to people watching on one.
He held his hand out for the folder, flicking his gaze up to the priest's.]
How much do I owe you?
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