will be dropping enma, i would like to say âfor the time beingâ but i do not want to discourage anyone from apping him instead, etc. so while he may come back when i have a clearer direction for him, for now consider him fully gone.
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will be dropping enma, i would like to say âfor the time beingâ but i do not want to discourage anyone from apping him instead, etc. so while he may come back when i have a clearer direction for him, for now consider him fully gone.
three houses got me in a VICE GRIP but real enma growth is my next main blog goal! i was gonna wait but fuck it, STARTER CALL for some things that may be kinda memey or short but heâs a teen what can ya do. mutuals only, capped at 3, castmates can go over.
betrayouâ:
 â Well if youâre alive in THAT line of work, then Iâd say youâve done relatively well. â  It must be difficult, that sort of obligation though Shoichi will never truly understand what itâs like when he was never quite mafia affiliatedâ- it had always been just a play pretend, even when he ultimately joined the vongola he was never really part  of it all.   â So thatâs something isnât it ? butâŠÂ â   A chuckle leaves his lips, a nervous sort of curt laugh as he dismiss the thought. A new family ? Wouldnât it be better if he just waits for the rest to come at least it seemed like an eventual happening.   â a new mafia family is probably not very lucrative anyway, itâs almost funny how many people you actually have toâ â He trails off, cease for a moment and shakes his head.  threaten & kill.  What a messy business.   â Iâm bad at it, but I wouldn't turn down an offer from you. â Itâs a joke, an attempt of humor.Â
ââăăEnmaâs frown was deep, but not especially unhappy. Just to be alive... His survival was due in no small part to the machinations of a villain, but there was no denying he was also, of his own power... strong. The thing he wanted to be least was the thing he couldnât really deny, in battle he was truly a monster. But he was alive, for better or worse. Hearing âyouâve done wellâ from someone who had no idea what he had done would normally just piss him off, pointless platitudes weighing on his patience, but this wasnât too bad.
Enma was fully ready to protest that he wasnât actually offering, before he realized that actually, his joke had been returned with a joke in kind. In spite of himself, he did laugh. âThat would be a pretty weird family, huh? You look as suited to mafia life as I am. Maybe even less,â he said with a grin, then added on a quick, âthatâs, um, a compliment. Obviously being in the mafia is bad, I canât stand it.â Was that too friendly, for a first meeting? Probably. âIâm Enma, by the way. So.. what do you do here?â
ââăăâH... hel.p....â Shouting for help had never been Enmaâs way-- asking for help at all, in fact, was a luxury he rarely afforded himself, he handled things himself because.. well, lots of reasons, none of them too kind on a personal level. So now that he genuinely needed help, in a way that he could not solve himself, and he needed to shout... his voice wouldnât reach the proper volume. It was like those dreams where he wanted to scream in terror but his voice just wouldnât come out, the feeling of helplessness and solitude overwhelming.
Except, instead of all that, he was stuck in a tree because he was stupid.
Clung to a large branch like a wet cat fearful of being dunked, he was pretty high up-- too high up to fall without breaking a couple important bones, his neck likely among them. He was too clumsy to get down normally, had been so shocked by the knowledge that he could still use his gravity manipulation that he had absolutely fucked it up and wasnât sure if he could do it again without just floating off into the sky.
âH.. hey.... c-can you.. d-do you... h.. he.lp...â He had to raise his voice to be heard from the ground, but even then, the terror came through just fine.
@dxrkestmirror
three houses got me in a VICE GRIP but real enma growth is my next main blog goal! i was gonna wait but fuck it, STARTER CALL for some things that may be kinda memey or short but heâs a teen what can ya do. mutuals only, capped at 3, castmates can go over.
betrayouâ:
â Oh, so youâre that type.  â   Rude without intention, expression contemplative trying to understand. Had it been self deprecation or unfortunate truths ? Either way, who was he to judge, everyone is built for a certain kind of failure arenât they ?  â ââfloor sweeper. â  A pause, â or be the boss, no one will fire a boss; well you know, till a Coup d'Ă©tat right ? or an assassination but thatâs besides the point.â Head tilting, humming as fingers are pressed along his chin. â Anything but going to the loan shark. â  Shoichi, smart, amazing, genius Shoichi, did just that. ( Well not HIM; a version of himself. )  â And I guess selling yourself isnât a very good idea.  â
ââăăHe furrowed his brow, not wanting to dismiss all of the suggestions outright-- someone was being nice enough to actually make an effort, after all, and the approach was... reasonable. Plans of action not based on pure optimism and âanyone can do it!â âI believe in you!â attitude.
âMm, I was a mafia boss back home,â technically still was, though his hopes on leaving this place had made their quiet grave alongside his belief that Daemon was pulling the strings. Daemon was bad, but at least he was theoretically defeatable. âIâm.. okay at it.â Adel wouldnât hear otherwise. âBut I donât know if I could start a new family here? Especially not without money.â Wait. Heâs going in circles now. In something of a better humor now (though his gloomy atmosphere certainly made it difficult for his jokes to land), he turned and asked, âDo you wanna be in a mafia family?â
St. Louis Post-Dispatch, Missouri, December 22, 1908
betrayouâ:
â I donât think youâre THAT incompetent.  â  Says Shoichi who also doesnât have a job for the same exact reason; well maybe not exactly, but who can blame him when his previous jobs were not really physically taxing.  â or maybe⊠you can find one with something you like. âÂ
ââăăâNo, Iâm definitely that incompetent.â His answer was immediate and held the confidence of a boy who had been incompetent his entire life, thanks very much. âAnd the things I like......â The pause went on a little too long, but his blank stare may as well have answered it. âAll of my school subjects are rock bottom. If I lift anything heavy Iâll drop it. People would leave if I was the first person they saw in a store. I only like cats and some video games. Iâm bad at those too, though.â If he was going to be honest, he may as well get it all out there, right?
ââăăâI need money... but Iâm too clumsy for a real job... I guess itâs better than school, but...â
siegerjusticeâ:
 The inner struggles and turmoils Enma faced now, for falling for his tricks and words once again meant little. Theyâre fine, but nothing out of the ordinary. Every empty space of thought, every chance Enma was not pre-occupying himself with something âmoreâ significant, was filled in the same energy. It wasnât anything that he had to try for or mold inside. The anger, the regret, the self depreciation, itâs something that heâd well welded into place years ago. It required no further work.Â
 Unfortunately, Enma had come into contact with the precious Decimo mist. Sheâs too strong, and anything he could try to spin around her would only be undone. Itâs nothing he could play off for long, and it causes him to click his tongue in irritation. Thereâs still the solid reality that is Enmaâs poor, pathetic, life. But Spade finds himself getting angrier with every fucking question Enma spouts.Â
 Heâs almost uncertain where to even begin now that the all mirrors have been broken and curtains torn down,âListen to yourself, Enma,â he scoffs, eyes narrowing in heavy anger,âIs this what makes you feel better? To question me about my happiness? To blame your foolishness on me?â the wavering hadnât gone unnoticed, but his own blood is only boiling more,âIf you want to know soâbadly,â he has to bite back swearing,âWhile you were busy isolating yourself, damming yourself to a miserable first month; Iâd been making acquaintances. Others that share my fashion tastes and a tea time. Iâve even had a wonderful date,â Spadeâs demeanor has shifted, wrath burns in his eyes while all his other features remain soft,âIâve made a life outside of your misery,â barely, he still suffers his own, but itâs not something Enma needs to be privy too. Even if Enma would surely have his doubts to the truth of the Primoâs words. Â
 âIs that what you wanted to hear? Or did you expect to hear that this is all I do? Sit around and think solely about you? Thatâs quite some flattery, for yourself, but I promise, Enmaââ
 âYou are not all I have, but you will certainly always have me in the back of your head. You will always have to carry the thought that I raised you. That a monster, raised you, and that you are none too far off,âÂ
 âWhatâs your next move? You, monster,â
ââăăWhy had he come here? What had he ever wanted to get from this? He had felt as if he were unraveling some grand mystery as he spoke, triumphantly. As if he had discovered some terrible morsel of truth that would make even Daemon cower. Stupid. In a battle of words, no number of ugly truths could save him, he had come with about a weapon and a half and spent them all without any idea where he was aiming, he had wanted so badly to spit it all in Spadeâs face and break him down. Stupid.
The answer to his vitriol was... uncomfortable. If it was meant to catch him off guard, it was a solid hit, the idea of Daemon living happily crossing over into the disturbing, the unkind. Enma had stopped thinking fate had any sense of right and wrong a long time ago, had dropped his once-mantra of this isnât fair. But this.. this wasnât fair. Spending ten generations crafting the perfect cruelty in his obsession, only to find a life outside it after he had done his worst?
It wasnât that Daemon was finding happiness that hurt. It was that it hadnât come sooner. When it could have helped. When it could have averted a hundred disasters.
No. It hadnât averted this. Daemon Spade was Daemon Spade.
He could taste bile in his throat, sick and disgusting. Why had he come here? What if Daemon had said yes? Wasnât that the far more terrifying proposition? Wasnât that just Enmaâs lifetime of suffering extended into eternity?
Monster Monster Monster. He knew. He knew. That was why he had come here. Good-hearted people did not seek out and throw poisonous barbs at their attackers. Good-hearted people did not wish from the bottom of their good hearts for their enemies to die as painfully as possible. Good-hearted people, Tsuna, had only wanted to spare Daemon with a final peaceful thought. Only the blackened heart of a monster could feel this way-- he knew.
He opened his mouth to retort. Nothing came out. Please, where was his anger. It had been replaced by a seeping self-pity, self-hatred, when he reached for the fire his hands sunk into a miserable sludge. âSo you found more people to trick.â His voice was quiet as a mouse, but Daemon, Daemon was always listening. And if he wasnât listening, he somehow knew anyway. He had created it, after all. âIf they never see the real you.. if they never hear about what youâve done, what kind of person you are... maybe itâll last.â
âOr do they already know, and they donât care? ..Youâd hate that, huh? Someone who accepts what you did. Because thatâd mean theyâre rotten, too. If my Family.. if Tsuna knew what I was really like, theyâd hate me. Theyâd be disgusted by me. Anyone who could accept how much I wanna tear you limb from limb.. isnât someone I wanna be friends with.â Youâre the same, I bet. He couldnât say it, but it hung in the air all the same. âI think.. if I could make you cry, I might feel a little better.â
JUST TO BE SAFE, ANOTHER PSA
in case you missed it all around, this blog is one giant trigger warning. particularly my threads with siegerjustice / daemon spade, who is enmaâs past abuser. he and enma get fucking intense in their hatred for each other, so i would recommend not reading along if youâre squeamish for extreme emotional manipulation, deep depression & suicide references, a toooon of self-hatredâŠ. just a lot across the board. a lot a lot. i will do my best to tag accordingly but with how much bad they hit on, things may get missed.
and please do not be afraid to just full out unfollow if you need to. this is some rough subject matter and i donât want anyone to be unsafe.
amethyst calm, sapphire depths, moonstone luster
Amethyst Calm: How do they usually sleep, in what position? Do they like plenty of pillows, blankets and/or plush toys?
Enmaâs used to a pretty sparse environment, and sleeping is as much a chore as it is an aspect of life. He can sleep with or without a blanket just as easily, on a bed couch or floor, as long as he can lean against something he can sleep (if his mind will let him).
Ideally, though, he really enjoys a soft pillow for his head, and another pillow for hugging. Thatâs all, easy peasy! In spite of what this position may suggest, he is not clingy at all when sleeping near or even on another person, keeping firmly to his own personal space.
Sapphire Depths: Do they prefer to think ahead or to leap right in and wing things?
EnmaâŠâŠ is stupid.
Of course, that doesnât absolutely mean he doesnât think aheadâ heâs stupid, and also, he doesnât think ahead. He can follow a plan just fine, he can do his best to be patient, but when Enmaâs in charge shit unfolds in real time. He goes with his gut, 100%, and his gut is also stupid.
That said, heâs a naturally fearsome fighter, when heâs invested in the fight. Easy to outsmart, hard to outmatch.
Moonstone Luster: Are there are any items they own that have sentimental value to them?
The Shimon rings and the Sin that theyâve inherited were the source of a lot of strife; the Shimon Family itself is a source of a lot of strife still. The rings represent without a doubt that they are in the mafia, and they are high-profile targets, but Enma wouldnât give his ring up for anything. Heâs inherited this family for better or worse, and truthfully, itâs the one thing that Daemon doesnât own. His target was always his own Vongola, so in the wake of the tragedies he wrought, the Shimon belong to themselves only. Their rings and the inheritance that came with them are now a source of power and independence, something Enma can truly be proud of.
A series of headcanon asks to delve more in-depth with what makes the muses tick! Questions range from the obscure to the obvious so as to dig further into a museâs life and habits.
Be sure to specify muses for multi-muse blogs!
Coral Fragments: How well does your muse deal with stress? Do they do anything in particular to help them deal with it, and if so what do they do?Â
Rosy Fog: What are their immediate views on romantic love?
Rosy Haze: Do they react well when they develop feelings for someone and if not why?
Rosy Touch: How do they show affection nonverbally? Are they likely to show affection with their words as well?
Apatite Chatter: Are they the friendly sort or do they prefer to let others start off interactions with them?
Apatite Tic: Does your muse have any sort of verbal tics or impediments?
Garnet Shadows: Is your muse apt to stab someone in the back in any way? If so, would they admit to doing so or would they lie to cover it up?
Garnet Shine: How devoted are they to their loved ones? Would this devotion delve into the obsessive side?
Garnet Core: What sorts of things would they be willing to do for friends? For family? For their significant other(s)?
Amethyst Terrors: Are their nights plagued with past memories or nightmares in general? What do they usually entail if so?
Amethyst Calm: How do they usually sleep, in what position? Do they like plenty of pillows, blankets and/or plush toys?
Makeshift Stone:Â What does their internet search history usually include? Are there any parts of their searches that theyâre embarrassed by?
Cracked Cement: Are they adept at using technology of any kind or do they typically need help with it?
Brickwork Shadows: Is your muse good with their hands, or do they tend to be fairly clumsy?
Sapphire Depths: Do they prefer to think ahead or to leap right in and wing things?
Sapphire Beacon: What kinds of things inspire your muse and does your muse tend to inspire others?
Selenite Pillars: Does your muse think theyâre mentally or physically strong? Is this belief true or only something the muse believes to be true?
Aventurine Calling: Do they believe in luck? If so, would they consider themselves lucky or unlucky?
Fluorite Cloud: If they had the opportunity, would they prefer to know whatâs going to happen in the future or not? Why?
Fluorite Bearings: How strongly do they listen to their intuition? Is their intuition usually correct or incorrect?
Peridot Ghosts: What kind of things get them frazzled or anxious? Do they tend to handle them well or get swept up in the moment?
Moonstone Luster: Are there are any items they own that have sentimental value to them?
Diamond Kiss: What kind of clothing and accessories do they prefer to wear? Are there are any particular reasons outside of general comfort that they like wearing these?
Coal Dust: Can they withstand manual labor? Do they avoid manual labor as much as possible, and if so, why?
Prehnite Memory: How good is their memory? Has it always been like this or did something happen to make it this way?
Bismuth Hue: Are they sickly or get sick often?
Bismuth Aid: What sort of medication, if any do they have to take, if any? Do they refuse to take it, forget to take it, or do they prefer to keep on it?
Quartz Cluster: What kind of textures (e.g. silky, rough, slick, etc) do they prefer?
Jade Ambition: How ambitious is your muse and what are their current goals? To what ends will they go to to make those wishes a reality?
Jade Gain: How well do they manage their money?
Amazonite Comfort: What sorts of things bring your muse comfort in trying times? Are there any habits they have when things get difficult to help cope?
Amazonite Shade: Are they pessimistic, optimistic or somewhere in the middle? Was there anything that happened to them in their life that caused them to think in this way?
Topaz Storm: Is your muse the creative type in any way? How do they usually express their creativity?
Topaz Tears: Do they have any sort of outlet they use as a means to cope (e.g. writing, drawing, playing music, etc.)? Howâd they get into it if they do?
Topaz Calling: Do they have anything that they have natural talent in? If so do they enjoy doing it or is it something they tend to forget about?
Ruby Craze:Â Are they a passionate person or do they tend to be more down-to-earth?
Ruby Light:Â Are they the sort to wear their heart on the sleeve? If not, why?
Citrine Focus: Are they able to multi-task or do they prefer to keep at one thing at a time?
Opal Wonder: How big is their imagination? Do they tend to share these ideas or keep them to themselves?
Opal Sky: Do they tend to get lost in their own thoughts/daydreams?
siegerjusticeâ:
 The ordeal Enma had been through, and the attempts that had come along with the last invasion of fiction made non left a blank in the Primoâs head. Not that it mattered much to him, heâs sure that any bad thing that happened Enma deserved, and whatever his weak heart had gave into was only meant to happen. Fate, as you would, and what kept Enma coming backâŠ.unfortunately.Â
 What mattered most about the last coming was that Enma now knew the difference between his loosely woven lies and what is actually under his feet.Â
 He hadnât expected it to last long, as tightly under his thumb as the Simon may be, time was the only matter before heâd discover the truth. As he always does. Heâd raised a fool, but no idiot, after all.Â
 Itâd also become part of Daemonâs monthly routine to return to the place theyâd first encountered while in this dimension. To see if Enma had come back, contemplating the seemingly endless hole. Leaving more opportunities, and it nearly aligned with the others desire to burn him on a pike. Itâs almost more comedic to find him so fired up. Watching him squirm none the less while easily side stepping the emphasis,âSuch foul language, Enma,â he didnât need to say it; I raised you better came across all the same in his tone. Eyes staring him down as nothing more than a thing to be observed, no other emotion burned behind them for the time. Silence filling by the minute,âOh? What more do you want from me?â
 âYes, Iâm as worthless and powerless as you are. Would you like a congratulations? A pat on the back?â he sighs,âYou hardly deserve it, your mannerisms, throwing things like rocks, lends to the idea youâre still scared. In the back of your head are you still fearing that something truly horrific will unfold at your hands should you actually strike me with your own?â itâs a game he shouldnât be playing anymore, but what other vices does he have but to antagonize a small animal,âDo you fear making it real that Iâm actually even here, or if youâre just hallucinating me on your own?âÂ
ââăăIt was pure rotten luck, that anyone who tried to impart knowledge on Enma was met with a road block as wide as the oceans were deep: He had been taught so much by something so foul, that to learn anything else felt like folly. Every piece of him was touched by rot, every move he made felt rooted in some part of Daemon, anything he hated or liked about himself was somehow his, his, [ his ].
The foul language, though. That was all Enma.
Youâre still scared. But right now, right now, he wasnât. He was just fucking furious. He knew that no matter how pure that anger felt, it wasnât-- for every burst of anger for Daemon, there was an equal match for himself, for falling for it again, for letting himself be controlled again. But still, he wasnât scared. Realizing that brought a stillness to his anger, a calm under the raging storm.
âI know youâre real. Chrome saw you, too.â I hurt her because of you. I hurt her because of me. âI let myself starve for you. I slept on the street for weeks for you. I denied every helping hand because I thought it had to be you.â But that was nothing. That wasnât what Enma was mad about, what the roiling in his gut found purchase in. âYou canât isolate me anymore,â ah, but Enmaâs voice wavered, the still strength rocked.
He had. He had isolated Enma terribly, over a month spent speaking only to himself and a few cats and the occasional person he held at armâs length, if that arm ended in a double-edged sword. Enma had pushed so many people away for him, hurt people for him. He had proven himself every bit Daemon Spadeâs puppet still.
He wavered. âIâm useless. Right now, Iâm just a boy with some rocks. The only thing that ever made me worth your time is gone.â
âAre you happy?â
His breath was starting to quicken, no, no, stay calm, stay furious, donât get swallowed up by the misery in the futility.
âIs this what makes you happy? Torturing me and getting nothing out of it? Did you fucking die just to keep doing this forever? Am I all you have?â
auricdirgeâ:
     Despite being on the island for a few months, Giorno knows well that he hasnât explored everything there is to offer. Semblance of put together life means spare time, though not necessarily limited, is spent doing other, important things. He finds himself wandering late at night to make up for all this, on the days he can spare either sleeping in late or focus on staying awake. He tries not to make a habit of a terrible sleep schedule, but sometimes itâs hard with so much energy trapped under his skin with no proper outlet.
     The rain is an unforeseen circumstance, Giorno having hoped he wouldnât be out for too long before it started. It makes him glad for his original foresight to redo his hairstyle into something simpler, least the humidity and water make terrible work of his normal curls. Still, he isnât so keen on getting and finds shelter in the form of an abandoned building. He wonders if he should make use of it, for some reason or another. Itâs always nice to make contingency plans and have backup buildings, so to speak. There are lots of uses he can get out of somewhere not regularly frequented and in obvious disrepair.
     Well supposedly abandoned; Giorno isnât expecting another person to here of all places, but he shouldnât be surprised. He isnât necessarily threatened by the words, but he proceeds more carefully after hearing them. People that feel cornered have the potential to be much more unpredictable and dangerous as a result. âI didnât mean to startle you. I just needed to get out of the rain. I can keep a distance away if that would be better.â
ââăăPoking his head out cautiously, Enma had to get a look at the owner of the strange voice; it wasnât one he recognized, not an attempt to trick him with those he loved, but also.. the person was respecting his poorly-slung threat, and the request inside it? Though he had just made the ghost of a threat, Enma was already wavering at a simple show of kindness. Some mafia boss.
...He didnât look like Daemon. A ridiculous thought, considering Daemon could look like anyone, that was kind of the point... but the thought remained. He didnât hold himself like Daemon, his clothes were vibrant in a different way. Whatever it was, it was probably still a trick. But the man felt refreshing, at a glance.
âOkay... as long as it stops soon. You canât, um, stay here overnight.â Wow, what a powerful stance. What a terrifying boy. âI donât have anything worth taking anyway, so donât bother looking around for valuables,â he realized even as he said it that he sounded like he was specifically trying to hide valuables, but the truth was the truth. Enma didnât have anything period, not even a real roof.
For all he had tried to bring a hostile energy, it wasnât holding up too well. At this point he had as much as given up. â...What are you doing out so late? This is pretty far out...â
caligosumâ:
     âItâs good to see you too.â She answers truthfully; while seeing Enma is unexpected, she definitely has no qualms against it. Heâs good company in a quieter way that Chrome tends to prefer but doesnât always receive. The rest of the guardians tend to be rowdy and keep lively acquaintances; Enma is a rare sort, Chrome has come to realize. Â
     âSome of the people here are strange.â Chrome agrees, taking the proffered cat into her arms and setting her in her lap. Fingers gently run through the fur as she continues. âThe locals are, from what Iâve noticed, very strange.â Their actions a bit too stiff, too docile with all the goings on sheâs witnessed so far. Maybe theyâre just used to it, but Chrome has her own personal doubts and worries about this place, obvious concerns about getting her abilities and weapons back aside. She doesnât like it here, thatâs for sure, but it isnât necessarily the worst place sheâs ever ended up, all things considered. At least the cats are nice and the company familiar.
     Chrome hums at the mention of Daemon and shrugs. âHe hasnât, but that doesnât mean he wonât try to in the future.â She knows you canât necessarily be too careful with past enemies, and Chrome has never been as quick to forgive as the other guardians when someone has properly earned her ire. âHe just asked questions; I think he was trying not to seem like a threat.â Or something strange along those linesâChrome didnât care enough at the time, she still doesnât.
     While old ghosts might not be a threat to her, just yet, anyway; Chrome knows Enma might find it harder to deal with. âIâm sorry heâs here.â More empathy than pity, she momentarily pauses petting the cat to make eye contact keeping her gaze steady, so he knows how much she means these next words. âI donât know if you have anyone to look out for you here, but if Daemon hurts you, you can come and find me. He might not bother you as much if Iâm around and Iâll protect anyway if he does. Iâm not at my strongest here, but itâs better than being alone, so Iâll do my best to keep you safe.â
ââăăIcy claws gripped at his heart with her words, her certain gaze, her entire being that seemed personally dedicated to making him feel safe. Because it was. What part of his mind had Daemon probed this time, to find how he adored Chrome, how he sometimes thought of her when he wanted to give up? How deeply had he had to pull, to find her visage a source of strength?
To know the perfect words... He wanted to cry. But that would just be what Daemon wanted-- for Enma to be so weak that he could break after such a simple promise. Iâll protect you. Itâs better than being alone. Iâll keep you safe. She understood, she had joined Julie in the short short list of people who could truly understand what it was like to have Daemonâs grip deeply embedded in their mind. But she wasnât real. Heâd done this to Enma before, using the faces and voices of people he trusted to lull him into a false sense of security. If he listened too much, got too comfortable around this spectre, Daemon would reveal himself at the worst moment and call him a stupid boy for ever believing there could be relief in this personally-catered Hell.
âThank you, Chrome.. it means a lot to me.â It wasnât a lie. The words meant the world to him, if he could just put faith in them. âBut I canât accept.â Subterfuge had never been his strong point (or a point at all, really), he wasnât a liar, couldnât hide his real feelings all that well except to stuff them in a box and give one-word half-truths that were easily seen through by anyone who wanted to care. Real Chrome or not, there was no point in hiding what he was thinking. Maybe Daemon would drop this trick if Enma said plainly that it didnât work...
âI.. I donât want to upset you.â You, Chrome. âBut I have... I-I have no reason to think..â Out with it, out with it, if it would be a fight it would be a fight, if he was going to be tortured in a shitty alleyway it was going to happen, out with it. âthat you arenât Daemon, too.â Iâm so sorry.
ââăăâYou bastard!â
After returning from the mess that was Airaisal and his ill-fated attempt to disappear into another world, Enmaâs mind had fixated on two thoughts: First, he didnât have to live on the street anymore. Those who had claimed to want to help him so far had perhaps been genuine, and the apartment heâd been assigned was a gift not from [ him ] but someone else. Perhaps just as malicious, but not possibly as hateful. Second, Daemon had lied to him.
It was this second matter that he attended to presently, seeking the man out at the same place they had met on his first day here; it had taken a few days to catch him, but with no other leads he was willing to follow, Enma had stuck with it, and finally gotten his payoff.
âYou lied to me. You tricked me.â You wanted me to suffer, and suffer I did. I fell for it, hook, line, sinker. âThis isnât your world, youâre as trapped as I am.â He hadnât been boiling today as he had the other days, hadnât thought heâd find Daemon and hadnât thought heâd be prepared, pervasive as the gloom was. But seeing him now, every word Enma spoke only served to stoke the flames of his anger. He stooped down, and picked up a rock a little bigger than his fist. He didnât have his flames... but what if...
âYou canât even fight me, can you? ..You worthless, powerless bastard!!â All his anger went into the last curse, and he threw the rock in his hand at the man more for emphasis than any real idea that it would hit its target.
@siegerjustice