[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.]
[Despite his words, however, it's clear that the piece of work in the folder has taken considerable time. As joked before, it's of a cross, but most crosses aren't made of probably hundreds of bones. It's not a simple femur over femur type of thing, either, but almost every bone that can be imagined that is both organized and yet cluttered. At the center of it all is a ribcage.]
[It's not just that, however... Closer inspection will reveal that this isn't merely sketched, but the lines composed of words. Biblical verses, in fact. The outlines, the shading... All of it.]
[Picture given, Chikusa hides his hands away in his pockets and waits.]
[As an entity who had little love for the human body, specifically that it was mortal and decayed so easily, he couldn't help but be impressed by all the bones in the cross. It was certainly morbid for a priest, but he had to admit that he didn't dislike it, even with the shape they ultimately formed.
He held it out to admire it, gaze flickering across each bone as if to categorize them and assemble a full skeleton out of them, drinking it all in.]
Rather morbid for a priest, but very stunning.
[Still, he paused as he caught the thread of a word in one of the larger bones, bringing it closer to his face in curiosity. He started reading the familiar verses, the words flowing through him easily.]
This must have taken quite some time and effort. I can't just take this without giving you something in return.
[Funnily enough, Chikusa is sincere in that, for all that it might be hard to tell considering his... everything. He just blinks at Mukuro, like it's totally normal to make this kind of art.]
[Really, he doesn't see the problem. For all that he's a holy man, Chikusa doesn't shy away from some of the things that his religion or holy book have in them. He has a good memory. The Bible holds passages of men being killed with the jawbone of a donkey, genital mutilation... and one can't really not think about communion.]
[This is normal, right? Totally normal.]
[...There's a reason he's a bit bad at people.]
If you insist... Where did you want to have lunch?
[That answer seemed wholly honest, and Mukuro raised an eyebrow as he turned his gaze back to the priest, slightly incredulous, before shaking his head in amusement. He was the last person who could judge someone on making art out of bones, since his name was something like Bones McSkullDeath or whatever it translated to.]
What made you decide on bones?
[He could see exactly why Chikusa Kakimoto was so lonely and alone. He was strange, even to a demon, but it was that same uniqueness that had drawn Mukuro to him.
Admiring the painting for a few more moments, Mukuro stuck it back into the folder, sure he would have more time to appreciate it later. Perhaps he would just carry it around with him. He liked the weight of it, a tangible link to his priest.]
There are a few cafes near here, or if you're more interested in substantial fare, there's a German restaurant nearby.
It seemed to be the kind of aesthetic you would appreciate.
[Yeah, he's calling you out, mister "Six Paths Corpse". After a second, however, there's a considering tilt of his head.]
...Many other Christians are preoccupied with death... and even our religion itself is somewhat like that. The cross itself was even a symbol of torture. The death of Jesus Christ giving humanity salvation, that salvation only being available to us upon death, all the deaths the Bible and other scripture speak of...
To endure that kind of wait means taking the teachings of God and Christ deep into ourselves.
[He thought long and hard about it all.]
[Since the demon seems content to have the picture himself, Chikusa doesn't ask for it back and instead considers his options.]
If we're going to be walking through a museum, then something lighter seems for the best.
[He said it like it was a sinful, carnal knowledge which wasn't exactly wrong, but definitely a bit over-exaggerated.
As the priest talked, he tucked the folder under his arm, listening with a small sigh.]
Then what about creatures that can't die, Chikusa Kakimoto? Are they without salvation?
[Not that he cared for the kind of eternal saving that the priest spoke of. He had lost his taste for such a fairy tale. No, he knew better, and while it would be amusing to try and browbeat the religion out of the priest, that would take out some of the fun of this.
Instead, he offered his arm to the other man, smirking.]
I imagine they have their own manner of dealing with that dilemma, but I can only tell you the human views.
[Also, you're a lying bastard who doesn't care about salvation, but he won't go into that. This is supposed to be a civil outting.]
[...A civil outing where he doesn't know where to do with that arm being offered to him. With more than a little tentativeness, he lays his hand gently on it.]
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badliifechoiice22016-01-08 10:36 am
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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?
no subject
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.]
no subject
[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.]
no subject
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.]
no subject
[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.
no subject
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?
no subject
[Despite his words, however, it's clear that the piece of work in the folder has taken considerable time. As joked before, it's of a cross, but most crosses aren't made of probably hundreds of bones. It's not a simple femur over femur type of thing, either, but almost every bone that can be imagined that is both organized and yet cluttered. At the center of it all is a ribcage.]
[It's not just that, however... Closer inspection will reveal that this isn't merely sketched, but the lines composed of words. Biblical verses, in fact. The outlines, the shading... All of it.]
[Picture given, Chikusa hides his hands away in his pockets and waits.]
no subject
He held it out to admire it, gaze flickering across each bone as if to categorize them and assemble a full skeleton out of them, drinking it all in.]
Rather morbid for a priest, but very stunning.
[Still, he paused as he caught the thread of a word in one of the larger bones, bringing it closer to his face in curiosity. He started reading the familiar verses, the words flowing through him easily.]
This must have taken quite some time and effort. I can't just take this without giving you something in return.
[He paused, peeking around the canvas.]
Especially since I like it so much.
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[Funnily enough, Chikusa is sincere in that, for all that it might be hard to tell considering his... everything. He just blinks at Mukuro, like it's totally normal to make this kind of art.]
[Really, he doesn't see the problem. For all that he's a holy man, Chikusa doesn't shy away from some of the things that his religion or holy book have in them. He has a good memory. The Bible holds passages of men being killed with the jawbone of a donkey, genital mutilation... and one can't really not think about communion.]
[This is normal, right? Totally normal.]
[...There's a reason he's a bit bad at people.]
If you insist... Where did you want to have lunch?
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What made you decide on bones?
[He could see exactly why Chikusa Kakimoto was so lonely and alone. He was strange, even to a demon, but it was that same uniqueness that had drawn Mukuro to him.
Admiring the painting for a few more moments, Mukuro stuck it back into the folder, sure he would have more time to appreciate it later. Perhaps he would just carry it around with him. He liked the weight of it, a tangible link to his priest.]
There are a few cafes near here, or if you're more interested in substantial fare, there's a German restaurant nearby.
no subject
[Yeah, he's calling you out, mister "Six Paths Corpse". After a second, however, there's a considering tilt of his head.]
...Many other Christians are preoccupied with death... and even our religion itself is somewhat like that. The cross itself was even a symbol of torture. The death of Jesus Christ giving humanity salvation, that salvation only being available to us upon death, all the deaths the Bible and other scripture speak of...
To endure that kind of wait means taking the teachings of God and Christ deep into ourselves.
[He thought long and hard about it all.]
[Since the demon seems content to have the picture himself, Chikusa doesn't ask for it back and instead considers his options.]
If we're going to be walking through a museum, then something lighter seems for the best.
no subject
[He said it like it was a sinful, carnal knowledge which wasn't exactly wrong, but definitely a bit over-exaggerated.
As the priest talked, he tucked the folder under his arm, listening with a small sigh.]
Then what about creatures that can't die, Chikusa Kakimoto? Are they without salvation?
[Not that he cared for the kind of eternal saving that the priest spoke of. He had lost his taste for such a fairy tale. No, he knew better, and while it would be amusing to try and browbeat the religion out of the priest, that would take out some of the fun of this.
Instead, he offered his arm to the other man, smirking.]
Are you hungry now? We can eat first then.
no subject
[Also, you're a lying bastard who doesn't care about salvation, but he won't go into that. This is supposed to be a civil outting.]
[...A civil outing where he doesn't know where to do with that arm being offered to him. With more than a little tentativeness, he lays his hand gently on it.]
...Alright. How are you doing with that body?
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