One Weird Manikin

Sakahagi here. Yeah, I work in the cafeteria... got a problem with that?! Just take your grub and shut up. [Application] [Personal] [Megaten High]

[sakahagi]

The glass base of the lamp strikes the side of Sakahagi’s forehead dead-on and splinters into shards. It’s not enough to knock him out, but the sudden shock combined with the unbalanced momentum of his wild charge sends him careening to the floor with a yelp and a thud beside Nyarlathotep. He lies there on his side in a stunned silence for several moments, vision blurred, feeling warm liquid ooze forth and begin to slide down his face. The initial shock fades, and he groans in response to the throbbing pain that spreads throughout his skull. It’s unavoidable. It’s absolute. 

It’s… almost welcome, somehow. A clean break from the hideous explosion of emotion moments ago. 

When the pain begins to dull a bit, Sakahagi shakily picks himself just barely up to his elbows, and stops to watch the blood drip off of his chin to the floor. He stares, pondering it briefly, and runs his fingers through the expanding pool. Then, without thinking, Sakahagi closes his eyes and rolls onto his other side, resting his head wearily upon Nyarlathotep’s shoe.

“I-I…. I need,” he begins to say in that thin, childlike voice from before, but is unable to finish the sentence. What is it, liquor? No… More pain? Or even, perhaps, a permanent end to all pain… Whatever it is, his soul screams for something… anything to escape the ugly reality he now believes himself too weak to fight any longer. And the former target of the full force of his hatred suddenly seems like his surest way out.

Sakahagi nudges, then bites Nyarlathotep’s ankle. He whines softly.

Hurt me… END me… something, please….!!

[sir-nyarl-blog]

Nyarlathotep frowned as Sakahagi rolled onto his shoe. He panted, holding the broken vase in hand for a moment longer before dropping it onto the ground, near Sakahagi’s face. He couldn’t help but stare down at the pitiable, pathetic man before him. He just tried to attack me, and now he desires something from me…? It feels so contradictory…’ It didn’t make the situation any less amusing or exciting though. This was a good chance to both get back at Sakahagi for defiling his body in such a gruesome way, and perhaps… a chance to give Sakahagi what he wanted. “You ‘need’ what…?” Nyarlathotep growled, rolling Sakahagi’s head off his foot in a rough manner – he could still feel the teeth on his ankles, even though the two had separated. The man’s breath was warm, and Nyarlathotep admitted to himself that he missed the heat he felt on his ankle… but resolved that he would not let such desires get in the way of his punishment.  “You need help, that’s what you need, you disgusting dog.” With a low growl, he kicked at Sakahagi’s face, the other's body rolling slightly from the force of his kick. Nyarlathotep smirked, slamming down the sole of his shoe against Sakahagi’s skull, twisting his sole as though he were putting out a cigarette. A sly smile replaced his smirk as he continued to gaze down at Sakahagi’s helpless form. He spat on the man. “You absolutely disgust me… you’re worthless in my eyes.” He wondered if his words were even getting through to the man. “You’ve been a damn burden on me… I don’t know why I wasted my time on a miserable thing like you.” Well, of course he did – it was all for his amusement. Though he never expected things to get this… violent, he couldn’t deny it was interesting, almost fascinating… to see someone at his feet like this. Yeah… Philemon can wait a little bit. I’m having a bit of fun again.

[sakahagi]

Sakahagi lets out a husky cry as the other's shoe suddenly slams into his cheek and snaps his head back. He can only lie there while Nyarlathotep then stomps and grinds his foot into his temples, writhing and moaning and clawing at the floor as the near-blinding pain wraps around his skull and blood pours from his nose.

He can hear Nyarlathotep speaking. Feels the man spit on him. Worthless... Miserable... The words do manage to reach Sakahagi's mind, but he flees from them- flees completely into the intense physical anguish.

He becomes aware of the warm liquid that's steadily flowing down over his lips, and parts them to catch it with his tongue. The return of the precious metallic flavor sends a shiver down his spine as he savors and swallows it down. He's never gotten much of a charge out of seeing or tasting his own blood before, yet now... He trails the back of his hand across the floor to his face, nuzzling it and letting the blood spill out and paint it red. Slowly he begins to lap at the moistened flesh, all while Nyarlathotep continues to bear down with his shoe.

Sakahagi's breathing picks up. This pain... this horrible pain, this taste, this feeling of being subdued as his face is ground into the floor... He submits to it all, and is in no state to question himself any further for the reasons why. Without even fully realizing what he's doing, Sakahagi shakily drags his other hand upward to cling heavily to the hem of Nyarlathotep's pant leg, groaning in terrible agony and desire.

[sakahagi]

Sakahagi grumbles as he dishes out the girl’s selection, and sets it roughly on her tray. Looking at her again, he does happen to notice that their hoodies sort of… match. Huh, is that what she was talkin’ about…?

Well, whatever. She still annoys him just as much as anyone else in this place. Though, something about her face is… interesting.

Sakahagi sets down his utensils and folds his arms over his chest.

“…New here, or somethin’? First time I’ve seen you in line.”

[no-dummy-blog]

It takes a good amount of her strength to not end up dropping her tray when he put it down, which annoyed her just a bit, but she’s distracted by the sound of the cutlery and the question. He’s actually …making conversation?

Huh, maybe he’s not entirely a douchebag. Or maybe he’s worse than a douchebag. She hadn’t decided yet, but none the less she offers a smile and looks up at the man. Not the most relaxed or comfortable smile, but enough to show she was intimidated by him as she was of tiny goats.

“I’m pretty new, yeah. Name’s Manikin. And you are…?”

[sakahagi]

Sakahagi stands scowling at her for a few moments. What the hell's she smiling at him like that for?! Fucking idiots and their shallow, pointless attempts at friendliness. What a waste of energy, keeping that shit up all the time.

"The cafeteria guy," he eventually growls. "That's all any of you need to know."

He finds himself focusing on her face again. Weird... It's almost like he's seen her somewhere before... Maybe? He twitches. Lets the feeling go. Probably just one of those faces.

"Now, why don't you go be a good girl and eat your food..."

[sakahagi]

Sakahagi starts slowly towards the bedroom area once he’s been shuffled through the door. He halts, however, upon hearing Nyarlathotep’s chiding voice. He’s still drunk, yet somehow it snaps him rather abruptly back into awareness- and the thick fog that had settled in his mind begins to lift. Sakahagi looks around, taking in his surroundings almost as though he were seeing them for the first time.

And suddenly, it’s like it’s all closing in around him. This tiny room, the chaos inside it, everything that’s happened this evening and everything that’s been said… This school, the people in it, the humiliation and monotony of the menial job he performs here. The tremendous weight of societal norms and expectations, and how terribly far he’s fallen from what he’d once had. The full reality of how hopeless… How completely pointless this wreck of a life is now. 

Sakahagi swallows back a wave of nausea, and grabs ahold of the dresser beside him. He hates feeling so powerless to change what he’s become. He hates… himself. And he hates this other person who has somehow snaked his way into Sakahagi’s sphere and borne witness to his weakness, failure, and shame.

“Get… out of here,” he mutters, fingers clamping around the neck of an empty fifth of whiskey on the dresser. “Just… get the FUCK out of here, or I’ll fucking KILL YOU!” he screams, whipping around to hurl the bottle with all of his might at Nyarlathotep. It sails past his head in a near-miss and shatters loudly against the far wall. Seeing it fail to hit its mark, Sakahagi lets loose an utterly inhuman cry and lunges at the other. He moves with full intent to tackle the man to the floor, wrap his hands around his throat, and choke every bit of life out of him.

[sir-nyarl-blog]

Of course this would happen. I had to play the nice guy. This is just further proof that good guys come last. Nyarlathotep growled back at Sakahagi as the other man lunged at him to tackle him. Like a beast indeed! He had hoped that his growls would have intimidated the man before him, countering an animalistic trait with another, but it failed to do anything of notice. He had to take action quickly – Nyarlathotep was well aware that he was injured and perhaps vulnerable, but then again, so was the drunk in front of him.  Nyarlathotep had some… poor experiences with hooligans in the past, and was aware on some level of how to use his surroundings to his advantage. His eyes caught a glimpse of a nearby lamp; be it Sakahagi’s or his roommates, he didn’t care. Right now? It was his weapon. He carefully ducked and rolled away from Sakahagi’s leap towards the lamp, doing his best to ignore the seething pain from his wounded hand. Before Sakahagi could turn around and attempt to grab at him (something he probably would’ve succeeded at, given their now-close proximity), Nyarlathotep had forcefully yanked the lamp’s plug from its socket, using it to hit Sakahagi over the head with it, hoping it would at least disorient the raging man. What a numbskull…

[sakahagi]

The glass base of the lamp strikes the side of Sakahagi's forehead dead-on and splinters into shards. It's not enough to knock him out, but the sudden shock combined with the unbalanced momentum of his wild charge sends him careening to the floor with a yelp and a thud beside Nyarlathotep. He lies there on his side in a stunned silence for several moments, vision blurred, feeling warm liquid ooze forth and begin to slide down his face. The initial shock fades, and he groans in response to the throbbing pain that spreads throughout his skull. It's unavoidable. It's absolute. 

It's... almost welcome, somehow. A clean break from the hideous explosion of emotion moments ago. 

When the pain begins to dull a bit, Sakahagi shakily picks himself just barely up to his elbows, and stops to watch the blood drip off of his chin to the floor. He stares, pondering it briefly, and runs his fingers through the expanding pool. Then, without thinking, Sakahagi closes his eyes and rolls onto his other side, resting his head wearily upon Nyarlathotep's shoe.

"I-I.... I need," he begins to say in that thin, childlike voice from before, but is unable to finish the sentence. What is it, liquor? No... More pain? Or even, perhaps, a permanent end to all pain... Whatever it is, his soul screams for something... anything to escape the ugly reality he now believes himself too weak to fight any longer. And the former target of the full force of his hatred suddenly seems like his surest way out.

Sakahagi nudges, then bites Nyarlathotep's ankle. He whines softly.

Hurt me... END me... something, please....!!

[sakahagi]

no-dummy asked: 

There were only so many days one could avoid certain lunchlines, and as such, Manikin had somehow ended up in Sakahagi’s. Briefly it flashed through her mind that she never even ate her lunch. But on the other hand, if she decided she wanted food, like hell she was fighting to get back up here! None the less, the lunchman’s jacket did catch her eye and she offered a slight smile. “Nice coat.”

Sakahagi throws one of his usual nasty looks at the girl trying to talk to him in the lunch line. Nice coat…? The fuck’s she tryin’ to pull?

“…Shut up,” he snaps. “Just tell me whatcha’ want so I can throw it on the tray and get you out of my sight.”

[no-dummy-blog]

“Woah,” Manikin replied, bothered. What’s his glitch? They almost matched! It was cool! “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the flower field, huh? Beef bowl.” She bit her cheek and held her tray out, kicking against the tile some.

[sakahagi]

Sakahagi grumbles as he dishes out the girl's selection, and sets it roughly on her tray. Looking at her again, he does happen to notice that their hoodies sort of... match. Huh, is that what she was talkin' about...?

Well, whatever. She still annoys him just as much as anyone else in this place. Though, something about her face is... interesting.

Sakahagi sets down his utensils and folds his arms over his chest.

"...New here, or somethin'? First time I've seen you in line."

[sakahagi]

Had Sakahagi his wits about him, he would never have accepted physical support of this kind from another person. Not in a million fucking years. Now, however, he allows himself to be helped to his feet and walked out of the classroom, only sort of dimly aware of his surroundings and the individual bracing him up. 

Bed… Bed… Sleep… His mind is still focused on that goal. But god, he could almost just… close his eyes right now and drift off. He continues walking though, tripping up a bit several times along the way, but prevented from falling by Nyarlathotep’s hold. Within ten minutes’ time, the two have crossed campus and made it into the staff dorm building. Soon, they are at his door. Sakahagi slides himself off of Nyarlathotep, places a hand on the wall beside the door frame, and roots around in his pockets for his keys.

Sakahagi’s balance wavers again. His hand is shaking. He’s having trouble even managing to work the key into the lock.

[sir-nyarl-blog]

Nyarlathotep did not expect to bring the other man back home. He had planned to leave him halfway and return back to his own room to rest, yet there was something about how… pathetic this situation was that nudged him to stay by Sakahagi’s side. He found himself trudging along, taking quiet solace as the two wandered the dimly lit streets. He couldn’t help but let out an aggravated sigh as they arrived at Sakahagi’s room. Whether it was due to the alcohol or Nyarlathotep’s taunting, the idiot of a beast before him couldn’t seem to manage to open the front door. Like a silent guide, he took it upon himself to do it, grabbing Sakahagi’s hand, helping him insert the key into the keyhole and twist the door open… though he couldn’t help but let out a hiss of pain as he did so. His own hand was still injured, after all, and though he used one of his personal handkerchiefs to bandage up his wound, all it really did was seep in the (now slight) bleeding. I need to get home and take care of this. Though as he pushed the door open and helped the drunken man back inside, he couldn’t help but gawk at the condition of his room. Even as he and Philemon quarrelled and threw pillows at each other sometimes, their room could never look as messy as this. His bored and sullen expression changed to an amused one as he sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “You really are a dirty man in all aspects, Sakahagi. Have you no shame?” This room was filthy, and so was Sakahagi. Though he felt offended being invited (in a way) to such a pig sty of a room, he supposed it was befitting of Sakahagi’s character. Perhaps a few more minutes of taunting wouldn’t hurt.

[sakahagi]

Sakahagi starts slowly towards the bedroom area once he's been shuffled through the door. He halts, however, upon hearing Nyarlathotep's chiding voice. He's still drunk, yet somehow it snaps him rather abruptly back into awareness- and the thick fog that had settled in his mind begins to lift. Sakahagi looks around, taking in his surroundings almost as though he were seeing them for the first time.

And suddenly, it's like it's all closing in around him. This tiny room, the chaos inside it, everything that's happened this evening and everything that's been said... This school, the people in it, the humiliation and monotony of the menial job he performs here. The tremendous weight of societal norms and expectations, and how terribly far he's fallen from what he'd once had. The full reality of how hopeless... How completely pointless this wreck of a life is now. 

Sakahagi swallows back a wave of nausea, and grabs ahold of the dresser beside him. He hates feeling so powerless to change what he's become. He hates... himself. And he hates this other person who has somehow snaked his way into Sakahagi's sphere and borne witness to his weakness, failure, and shame.

"Get... out of here," he mutters, fingers clamping around the neck of an empty fifth of whiskey on the dresser. "Just... get the FUCK out of here, or I'll fucking KILL YOU!" he screams, whipping around to hurl the bottle with all of his might at Nyarlathotep. It sails past his head in a near-miss and shatters loudly against the far wall. Seeing it fail to hit its mark, Sakahagi lets loose an utterly inhuman cry and lunges at the other. He moves with full intent to tackle the man to the floor, wrap his hands around his throat, and choke every bit of life out of him.

[sakahagi]

no-dummy asked: 

There were only so many days one could avoid certain lunchlines, and as such, Manikin had somehow ended up in Sakahagi's. Briefly it flashed through her mind that she never even ate her lunch. But on the other hand, if she decided she wanted food, like hell she was fighting to get back up here! None the less, the lunchman's jacket did catch her eye and she offered a slight smile. "Nice coat."

Sakahagi throws one of his usual nasty looks at the girl trying to talk to him in the lunch line. Nice coat...? The fuck's she tryin' to pull?

"...Shut up," he snaps. "Just tell me whatcha' want so I can throw it on the tray and get you out of my sight."

[sakahagi]

Slowly, Sakahagi rolls over and begins to drag himself to his feet in front of Nyarlathotep. He grabs onto a corner of the desk, slightly hunched over, wobbling as his head still swims with intoxication and struggles to get its bearings. There’re still spots of blood left on his face and his clothes and hair are rather conspicuously disheveled (yes, even moreso than usual), but he hasn’t the presence of mind at the moment to take notice at all, let alone do anything about any of it.

He rubs the palm of his other hand over his eyes. Nyarlathotep is right- Sakahagi is tired. Profoundly tired. The thought of his cold, empty, unmade bed seems more comforting now than ever before. It’s the only thing his mind will permit him to think about at present, actually. Just… getting from here, to there. And sleeping. Nothing less, nothing more.

Allow me to take you back home, Sakahagi had heard the other say.

“…Yeah,” he finally murmurs in a very delayed response, then stands fully upright and takes a first step towards the door. There’s a sharp cry, however, as his back foot catches on the leg of a chair and he stumbles forward. His hand flies out on reflex and grabs a fistful of Nyarlathotep’s shirt, very nearly dragging the man down as Sakahagi just barely manages to prevent himself from falling completely. He ends up in an awkward half-crouch of sorts, one hand hanging onto Nyarlathotep, and the other clamped tightly onto the back of yet another chair.

[sir-nyarl-blog]

Nyarlathotep stumbled a little as Sakahagi gripped onto his shirt, the other man on the verge of a total collapse. ‘Hehe… perhaps I got carried away.’ he thought to himself, as he helped the other man stand, bending down and putting his hands under Sakahagi’s arms, near his pits. He helped raise the other man up and allowed Sakahagi to lean on him, so that he could carry him back. He couldn’t help but wince in pain as he lifted Sakahagi, though… that cut was deeper than he’d first thought. Perhaps the overall adrenaline he felt during the confrontation lessened the pain he felt, and he decided to get someone to treat it later, be it the nurse, his aide, or at an actual hospital.  “Come now, relax a little. You’re in safe hands, Sakahagi. Let’s get going; I don’t want to be stuck here ‘till dusk.” He did love the dark, but he didn’t want to bask in its beauty by helping a weakened man home. If they hadn’t comitted this act in a school, he would’ve probably just left Sakahagi to rot. He mentally noted to try and restrain a little self-control for future incidents.

[sakahagi]

Had Sakahagi his wits about him, he would never have accepted physical support of this kind from another person. Not in a million fucking years. Now, however, he allows himself to be helped to his feet and walked out of the classroom, only sort of dimly aware of his surroundings and the individual bracing him up. 

Bed... Bed... Sleep... His mind is still focused on that goal. But god, he could almost just... close his eyes right now and drift off. He continues walking though, tripping up a bit several times along the way, but prevented from falling by Nyarlathotep's hold. Within ten minutes' time, the two have crossed campus and made it into the staff dorm building. Soon, they are at his door. Sakahagi slides himself off of Nyarlathotep, places a hand on the wall beside the door frame, and roots around in his pockets for his keys.

Sakahagi's balance wavers again. His hand is shaking. He's having trouble even managing to work the key into the lock.

[letsthinklogical-blog]

sakahagi started following you

Gale was in the lunch line, not many people were there in the cafeteria. Most students had already left and returned to class. He did not have a class at this hour and he was not sure what to do. He decided that he would try this school food he has heard so many students talking about. He couldn’t tell rather they where talking good things about it though. They called it lunch. He does not remember ever being part of a lunch before. He stood in line and observed some. He notices a interesting man standing on the other stand of the food. Was he the one who attends to the food? 

[sakahagi]

Sakahagi glares across the counter at the guy staring at him in the lunch line.

“Are ya just gonna stand there and fuckin’ gawk all day?!” He snaps. “Make up your damn mind- pizza or beef bowl?!”

Sakahagi still can’t believe sometimes that he’s had to lower himself to dealing with idiots like this every day.

[letsthinklogical-blog]

Gale looked up at him, blinking some. Pizza? Beef bowl? What was that? He never heard anything with a name like that before. “What is pizza…? What is a beef bowl?” he asked the man behind the counter, who was obviously becoming annoyed with him. “…I do not comprehend…” The stuff he use to eat tasted like iron but he couldn't think of what it was exactly because of his memory being foggy. 

[sakahagi]

Sakahagi tips his head to the side in a look of utter incredulity. This guy... is actually standing there, saying this shit with a completely straight face. 

He sets down his serving utensils.

"...Are you fucking with me, or what?"

[sakahagi]

sparksandargyle started following you

Sakahagi had seen this one a few times before in the cafeteria. The boy- standing outside the library right now- sticks out in his mind because of how he HADN’T reacted to Sakahagi’s presence previously. Not with fear, anyway. Quite unlike the herds of gawking, cowering, squealing animals infesting the rest of this place.

He watches the strangely-calm character with interest.

The boy bugs him, he realizes. He hates the others for their fear, but does he also hate this one for his apparent lack of an emotional response to him? Sakahagi’s got no reason at the moment to approach the boy to explore this any further, however, so he unfixes his gaze. He turns and carelessly shoves another student aside to grab a drink from a nearby water fountain.

[sparksandargyle-deactivated2016]

>Louis already deduced that this world had an odd sense of humor what with a certain grigori in charge of the choir class. However, this man in charge of the cafeteria? Its sense of humor was becoming stale rather quickly. There was no surprise others steered clear of him. Of course, Louis felt no need to avoid him despite being stuck in a human form now. The man had been watching him, this he was aware of. He supposed he could be harmless so long as he chose his words carefully around him.  >He raised a brow as Sakahagi shoved someone else aside for a drink, watching the other just walk away from it all. Perhaps instead it would be best he allow the other to approach him first.

[sakahagi]

Sakahagi happens to look back after finishing at the water fountain, and notice that the boy is facing him. Hmm. Well then, there’s an acknowledgment. His curiosity further piqued, Sakahagi narrows his eyes a bit and decides to take a little stroll across the hallway. He moves in and leans his back to the wall a couple of feet from the other, folding his arms over his chest. He tips his head back slightly, seeming to size him up with a sidelong glance.

“So. Kid. Talk to me. What’s your deal, huh? Who are you?”

It’s quite unlike him to take an interest in another human being like this, but there’s something… unnatural about the boy that Sakahagi’s mind can’t seem to leave alone at the moment.

[sparksandargyle-deactivated2016]

“Good afternoon to you as well.” >He kept stoic as the other paced himself down the hall to…greet him, he supposed was the word. Though he kept his gaze forward as he spoke. “I am…Louis, a transfer student. Most know me as the librarian here.” >And then he turns to face him. “I recognize you from the cafeteria. You must be Sakahagi, yes?” 

[sakahagi]

Sakahagi twitches hearing Louis refer to him by name.

It's as though he's already lost some measure of control over the situation, not having it to withhold should he have felt a reason to do so. How is it getting around to students now, too? He doesn't wear a name tag on the job. Fucking irritating... not to mention, a bit unnerving as well. He stiffens slightly.

"Louis the Librarian, huh," he says with a bit of an edge, looking at him more directly. "And... yeah, it's Sakahagi. Who'd you talk to t'get my name, kid? Where are you pokin' around?"

[sakahagi]

sparksandargyle started following you

Sakahagi had seen this one a few times before in the cafeteria. The boy- standing outside the library right now- sticks out in his mind because of how he HADN’T reacted to Sakahagi’s presence previously. Not with fear, anyway. Quite unlike the herds of gawking, cowering, squealing animals infesting the rest of this place.

He watches the strangely-calm character with interest.

The boy bugs him, he realizes. He hates the others for their fear, but does he also hate this one for his apparent lack of an emotional response to him? Sakahagi’s got no reason at the moment to approach the boy to explore this any further, however, so he unfixes his gaze. He turns and carelessly shoves another student aside to grab a drink from a nearby water fountain.

[sparksandargyle-deactivated2016]

>Louis already deduced that this world had an odd sense of humor what with a certain grigori in charge of the choir class. However, this man in charge of the cafeteria? Its sense of humor was becoming stale rather quickly. There was no surprise others steered clear of him. Of course, Louis felt no need to avoid him despite being stuck in a human form now. The man had been watching him, this he was aware of. He supposed he could be harmless so long as he chose his words carefully around him.  >He raised a brow as Sakahagi shoved someone else aside for a drink, watching the other just walk away from it all. Perhaps instead it would be best he allow the other to approach him first.

[sakahagi]

Sakahagi happens to look back after finishing at the water fountain, and notice that the boy is facing him. Hmm. Well then, there's an acknowledgment. His curiosity further piqued, Sakahagi narrows his eyes a bit and decides to take a little stroll across the hallway. He moves in and leans his back to the wall a couple of feet from the other, folding his arms over his chest. He tips his head back slightly, seeming to size him up with a sidelong glance.

"So. Kid. Talk to me. What's your deal, huh? Who are you?"

It's quite unlike him to take an interest in another human being like this, but there's something... unnatural about the boy that Sakahagi's mind can't seem to leave alone at the moment.

[sakahagi]

Sakahagi’s muddled senses reel as he’s callously maneuvered and thrown onto his back. And before he has time to even think about defending himself, that bloodied palm is shoved up against his lips. 

Read More

[sir-nyarl-blog]

Read More

[sakahagi]

Slowly, Sakahagi rolls over and begins to drag himself to his feet in front of Nyarlathotep. He grabs onto a corner of the desk, slightly hunched over, wobbling as his head still swims with intoxication and struggles to get its bearings. There're still spots of blood left on his face and his clothes and hair are rather conspicuously disheveled (yes, even moreso than usual), but he hasn't the presence of mind at the moment to take notice at all, let alone do anything about any of it.

He rubs the palm of his other hand over his eyes. Nyarlathotep is right- Sakahagi is tired. Profoundly tired. The thought of his cold, empty, unmade bed seems more comforting now than ever before. It's the only thing his mind will permit him to think about at present, actually. Just... getting from here, to there. And sleeping. Nothing less, nothing more.

Allow me to take you back home, Sakahagi had heard the other say.

"...Yeah," he finally murmurs in a very delayed response, then stands fully upright and takes a first step towards the door. There's a sharp cry, however, as his back foot catches on the leg of a chair and he stumbles forward. His hand flies out on reflex and grabs a fistful of Nyarlathotep's shirt, very nearly dragging the man down as Sakahagi just barely manages to prevent himself from falling completely. He ends up in an awkward half-crouch of sorts, one hand hanging onto Nyarlathotep, and the other clamped tightly onto the back of yet another chair.

[sakahagi]

Sakahagi is startled out of his tantrum by Nyarlathotep’s touch. He twitches hearing the word kill.

“That stupid bitch deserved to die,” he hisses. “She was practically BEGGING for it, sh-she…!!”

His voice trails off as he grows increasingly disquieted by the other’s presence. He’s too close, he’s too goddamn fucking close and it’s making his skin crawl. The moment Nyarlathotep’s grip tightens, Sakahagi flips out. 

“GET YOUR FUCKIN’ HANDS OFF ME!!” He all but shrieks, and thrusts himself upward in a somewhat clumsy attempt to break away. The hand clutching the knife swings around wildly to try and drive the blade into whatever part of the other’s body it happens to find first.

[sir-nyarl-blog]

The swing was remarkably fast, too fast for Nyarlathotep to avoid. He did the next best thing he could, and used the advantage of being more sound of mind to stop the blade, grabbing it as close to the hilt as he could. The blade had still managed to dig into his skin near on the palm of his hand, near his wrist, and it drew a small, but noticeable amount of blood. He couldn’t help but let out a small hiss of pain, but despite that, he still wore the same smirk he wore earlier. If anything, he looked more pleased than before. Using his free hand, he grasped at the hand Sakahagi held the knife in. With help from his knee, he managed to force Sakahagi into a position in which his hand (and knife) was pinned to his back. Nyarlathotep stood behind Sakahagi, keeping the intoxicated man in place with his bleeding hand as he twisted the knife away from Sakahagi with his free hand. It was a bit questionable that a philosophy teacher knew to defend himself so well, and he had to admit that most of it was luck, instinct, and being able to outsmart the man (who he viewed as more of a beast), but the deed was done — and the flow of power had further shifted over to Nyarlathotep’s favor. Tossing aside the knife onto the ground across the classroom floor, he further secured Sakahagi with his free hand, and mockingly brushed his bloodied hand against Sakahagi’s face, smirking as he did so. He felt as though he was taunting a hungered wolf with rare steak… the feeling of dominance felt great to him. He decided to reenact a scene from one of his novels, drawing his wounded hand backwards, still pressed to Sakahagi’s face, until his hand reached Nyarlathotep’s own lips. He teasingly licked at the wound once, before speaking to Sakahagi once more. “Blood… it’s wonderful, isn’t it? The sight of it… the scent, and feel, and taste of it… I don’t see why you prevent yourself from drawing the blood of this stupid bitch you speak of… you’re only denying yourself of your needs — your wants and desires. Why would you do something as foolish as that…?” he chuckled, before reiterating what he said earlier on. “You’re weak. And this just proved it. Look at me…a teacher, with minimal knowledge on how to fight… just outsmarted a powerful man as yourself. You should feel ashamed…” …Of course, that was a lie — he had taken a few self-defense courses with Philemon in their college years, but Sakahagi didn’t need to know that — it would lessen the impact of shame.

[sakahagi]

Perhaps Sakahagi could have muscled his way out of this hold, perhaps not… Ordinarily, he’d fight with savage abandon because he is not one to just submit to anyone else in a physical confrontation. Ever. He despises being touched in any way altogether, actually- no matter what the intent. In this weakened state, however, the sudden presence of blood has utterly hijacked his attention. He shudders, breath hitching, as it’s spread across his face.

“Sh-shut up, you cocksucking son of a…” he slurs. “I’m… not fuckin’ weak, I’m…. nngghh….”

Over the years, Sakahagi’s mostly managed to suppress this… pathological attraction to the red liquid. But now he wants it. From him, from her… He wants it bad. His eyes close and his breathing grows heavy. His knees weaken as a twisted heat begins to build inside him. God, if he could just…

[sir-nyarl-blog]

Nyarlathotep felt a sick pleasure from seeing someone so usually intimidating succumb so… easily to him — to seeing something as simple as blood. Sure, under normal circumstances, he would’ve gotten a bandage for his wound and catered to himself… but seeing Sakahagi so close to being on the verge of breaking down was too exciting of a moment to pass up. Seeing people break due to his hard work was one of the few genuine joys he felt.  

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[sakahagi]

Sakahagi's muddled senses reel as he's callously maneuvered and thrown onto his back. And before he has time to even think about defending himself, that bloodied palm is shoved up against his lips. 

God, that taste... A soft mewl escapes as he cannot help but push hungrily against it, licking and sucking to pull more of the savory liquid into his mouth. So good... So fucking GOOD.

His nerves are already blazing and raw when Nyarlathotep begins to rub against him. It's been a long, long time since another person has touched him in anything approaching this way, and it sends shockwaves throughout his body. He trembles and whines into the other's hand, and the suckling becomes more desperate as his arousal quickly becomes too powerful to contain. Soon he's wrapped his own leg around Nyarlathotep's, grinding up against his thigh like a brainless, oversexed dog. His free hand knots itself in the fabric of Nyarlathotep's jacket, in a frenzied attempt to pull him closer. And... it's... too much for him. The blood, the pressure, the heat and friction- all of it. He arches, bites down on the flesh of Nyarlathotep's hand- and with a muffled cry, he breaks. His body tenses and jerks as he reaches climax without either of them having removed even a single thread of clothing. Then Sakahagi goes slack. He lays there in a daze beneath his assailant, panting with exhaustion and drenched with sweat. The room is absolutely spinning now.

When his head begins to clear a bit and the reality of the situation sets in, it's quickly flooded with a tide of horror and shame so great... So overwhelmingly, sickeningly pure that he has to swallow back the urge to vomit. How did this... even happen... He shivers as he stares wide-eyed at the wall. His knife... if he still had it, he'd probably slit his own throat right then and there. Instead, he continues to stare, eyes seeming to grow more cloudy by the second.

"I... I... want to go home," he groans in a plain, almost child-like voice. His mind is beginning to shut down, retreating into his drunkeness to try and save itself from further harm.

[sakahagi]

Sakahagi is startled out of his tantrum by Nyarlathotep’s touch. He twitches hearing the word kill.

“That stupid bitch deserved to die,” he hisses. “She was practically BEGGING for it, sh-she…!!”

His voice trails off as he grows increasingly disquieted by the other’s presence. He’s too close, he’s too goddamn fucking close and it’s making his skin crawl. The moment Nyarlathotep’s grip tightens, Sakahagi flips out. 

“GET YOUR FUCKIN’ HANDS OFF ME!!” He all but shrieks, and thrusts himself upward in a somewhat clumsy attempt to break away. The hand clutching the knife swings around wildly to try and drive the blade into whatever part of the other’s body it happens to find first.

[sir-nyarl-blog]

The swing was remarkably fast, too fast for Nyarlathotep to avoid. He did the next best thing he could, and used the advantage of being more sound of mind to stop the blade, grabbing it as close to the hilt as he could. The blade had still managed to dig into his skin near on the palm of his hand, near his wrist, and it drew a small, but noticeable amount of blood. He couldn’t help but let out a small hiss of pain, but despite that, he still wore the same smirk he wore earlier. If anything, he looked more pleased than before. Using his free hand, he grasped at the hand Sakahagi held the knife in. With help from his knee, he managed to force Sakahagi into a position in which his hand (and knife) was pinned to his back. Nyarlathotep stood behind Sakahagi, keeping the intoxicated man in place with his bleeding hand as he twisted the knife away from Sakahagi with his free hand. It was a bit questionable that a philosophy teacher knew to defend himself so well, and he had to admit that most of it was luck, instinct, and being able to outsmart the man (who he viewed as more of a beast), but the deed was done — and the flow of power had further shifted over to Nyarlathotep’s favor. Tossing aside the knife onto the ground across the classroom floor, he further secured Sakahagi with his free hand, and mockingly brushed his bloodied hand against Sakahagi’s face, smirking as he did so. He felt as though he was taunting a hungered wolf with rare steak… the feeling of dominance felt great to him. He decided to reenact a scene from one of his novels, drawing his wounded hand backwards, still pressed to Sakahagi’s face, until his hand reached Nyarlathotep’s own lips. He teasingly licked at the wound once, before speaking to Sakahagi once more. “Blood… it’s wonderful, isn’t it? The sight of it… the scent, and feel, and taste of it… I don’t see why you prevent yourself from drawing the blood of this stupid bitch you speak of… you’re only denying yourself of your needs — your wants and desires. Why would you do something as foolish as that…?” he chuckled, before reiterating what he said earlier on. “You’re weak. And this just proved it. Look at me…a teacher, with minimal knowledge on how to fight… just outsmarted a powerful man as yourself. You should feel ashamed…” …Of course, that was a lie — he had taken a few self-defense courses with Philemon in their college years, but Sakahagi didn’t need to know that — it would lessen the impact of shame.

[sakahagi]

Perhaps Sakahagi could have muscled his way out of this hold, perhaps not... Ordinarily, he'd fight with savage abandon because he is not one to just submit to anyone else in a physical confrontation. Ever. He despises being touched in any way altogether, actually- no matter what the intent. In this weakened state, however, the sudden presence of blood has utterly hijacked his attention. He shudders, breath hitching, as it's spread across his face.

"Sh-shut up, you cocksucking son of a..." he slurs. "I'm... not fuckin' weak, I'm.... nngghh...."

Over the years, Sakahagi's mostly managed to suppress this... pathological attraction to the red liquid. But now he wants it. From him, from her... He wants it bad. His eyes close and his breathing grows heavy. His knees weaken as a twisted heat begins to build inside him. God, if he could just...

[sakahagi]

Sakahagi struggles for a moment to process Nyarlathotep’s words. He twitches and shakes his head, anger spiking as they sink in and hit their mark. Who the hell does this cocky piece of shit think he is, anyway?!

“…Fucker! Call me a bitch again, and I’ll…!!”

It’s when he takes a step forward that he realizes that the alcohol is hitting him quite a bit harder and faster than he’d anticipated. Damn, had he even eaten anything today? Did he eat anything yesterday? He honestly can’t remember. The most pressing hunger he’s experienced lately is one that cannot be sated by food, and as his stress levels have climbed, he’s grown less and less inclined to think about properly feeding himself. 

Sakahagi grabs onto the back of a chair to steady himself a bit, and while doing so, his mind begins to mull over more of what the other has said. That girl must’ve talked. She MUST have. The glass-eyed little moron is going to ruin everything for him. He swears.. He fucking swears that next time, he’s just gonna kill her.

“FUCK,” he snaps, slamming his fist down on the desk in front of the chair. “Why didn’t I do it… I should’ve just fucking done it..!!”

His head’s down and he’s shaking- shaking with rage, with hunger, with the unsteadiness of increasing intoxication.

Weakness, he said… WEAKNESS…!!

[sir-nyarl-blog]

Nyarlathotep couldn’t help but smile. As tough of an exterior Sakahagi showed, inside, he was still as vulnerable as any other person. Perhaps even more vulnerable — his deranged, and now intoxicated mind became Nyarlathotep’s very own little playground; a sandbox for him to build and mold, and shape how he wanted. Knowing that Sakahagi could not do much in his tipsy state of being, he fearlessly further approached the now-sitting man. “You’ll do what, hm? Yell at me some more in anger? Or — heaven forbid, stab me?” he taunted Sakahagi’s powerlessness, drawing ever closer as the other man yelled and flailed about, slamming his hand on the desk, yelling something about ‘doing it’. Nyarlathotep put his hand on Sakahagi’s shoulder, bringing his lips to the others’ ears. “You should have done… what, hm?” his eyes glanced down at the knife in Sakahagi’s hands. “Kill…? You most certainly have the strength and will to do so… so why don’t you? What feeble thing is stopping you? Cowardice…?” he whispered into Sakahagi’s ears, gripping his shoulders a bit tighter, as though to physically prove that he exerted power over the intoxicated man.

[sakahagi]

Sakahagi is startled out of his tantrum by Nyarlathotep's touch. He twitches hearing the word kill.

"That stupid bitch deserved to die," he hisses. "She was practically BEGGING for it, sh-she...!!"

His voice trails off as he grows increasingly disquieted by the other's presence. He's too close, he's too goddamn fucking close and it's making his skin crawl. The moment Nyarlathotep's grip tightens, Sakahagi flips out. 

"GET YOUR FUCKIN' HANDS OFF ME!!" He all but shrieks, and thrusts himself upward in a somewhat clumsy attempt to break away. The hand clutching the knife swings around wildly to try and drive the blade into whatever part of the other's body it happens to find first.

[sakahagi]

Not only has Sakahagi nearly had the shit startled out of him, but now alarm bells of paranoia are clanging loudly in his head.

“Who told you my name?!” He demands. He starts to step back as the man approaches him, but quickly stops himself and rigidly holds his ground. “Come any closer and this’ll be lodged in your gut,” he threatens, pointing the blade directly at the other. A teacher, eh? Well, he’ll still be neither sitting nor putting his knife down- Sakahagi’s never seen this guy before, and his body is flooded with far too much adrenaline to just grab a seat and chat right now. 

“And you think you can help me?!” He snaps in response to the offer. “Tch!! Take your ‘help’ and throw it at some sorry bitch who actually asks for it.”

He feels a little sick to his stomach, really, that the other had witnessed him letting his guard down even the little bit that he had… Had seen him in a much weaker state than he prefers anyone else ever see.

Sakahagi twitches and runs a hand through his hair. God, he REALLY didn’t need any of this shit today… Just wanted to get back to his room and drink himself to sleep. At least the warmth of what he HAS slammed down already is beginning to take hold in his body.

Ughh. This guy almost certainly knows something though, doesn’t he? Sakahagi feels compelled to stay and find out what exactly that might be.

[sir-nyarl-blog]

Despite Sakahagi’s brutish threats, Nyarlathotep seemed to remain with a calm facade. To further show how arrogant he seemed about the situation, he stuck his hands into his pockets, tilting his head to the side with a cocky grin as he addressed Sakahagi’s concerns. “Put that flimsy thing down. You aren’t going to get anywhere with that, Sakahagi. Perhaps those rumors I heard about you were true after all… hehe. What a little psychopath you are; how on earth did you ever manage to land yourself a job here?” he couldn’t help but mock the other, trying to crawl under his skin. “As far as I know, you’re a sorry little bitch in need of some help… in need of a lot of help. If the whispers of others have reached even my ears, how long would it take until it reaches Igor’s…?” He mused, raising a brow, hoping to instill a sense of fear into Sakahagi. What he said next though seemed to be very strange. “…Though, really. Why does it matter if Igor knows… if anyone knows? It’s your life… you shouldn’t let it be dictated by another.” As contradictory as that may have sounded, he believed that this way of living was… faultless. “As Anton LaVey says… ‘Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law’… that is to say, you should do what you want. Indulge yourself… the only thing that can stop you is your own weakness.”

[sakahagi]

Sakahagi struggles for a moment to process Nyarlathotep's words. He twitches and shakes his head, anger spiking as they sink in and hit their mark. Who the hell does this cocky piece of shit think he is, anyway?!

"...Fucker! Call me a bitch again, and I'll...!!"

It's when he takes a step forward that he realizes that the alcohol is hitting him quite a bit harder and faster than he'd anticipated. Damn, had he even eaten anything today? Did he eat anything yesterday? He honestly can't remember. The most pressing hunger he's experienced lately is one that cannot be sated by food, and as his stress levels have climbed, he's grown less and less inclined to think about properly feeding himself. 

Sakahagi grabs onto the back of a chair to steady himself a bit, and while doing so, his mind begins to mull over more of what the other has said. That girl must've talked. She MUST have. The glass-eyed little moron is going to ruin everything for him. He swears.. He fucking swears that next time, he's just gonna kill her.

"FUCK," he snaps, slamming his fist down on the desk in front of the chair. "Why didn't I do it... I should've just fucking done it..!!"

His head's down and he's shaking- shaking with rage, with hunger, with the unsteadiness of increasing intoxication.

Weakness, he said... WEAKNESS...!!

[sakahagi]

Sakahagi’s trudging down the hallway following the end of another long shift in the cafeteria. Things were especially annoying today in that little piece of hell, and his resulting mood is even more foul than usual. He’s just… He’s itching for a fight. Itching for, well… MORE than a fight, actually. He’s got to duck away somewhere to take a breather if he’s gonna make it back home without ripping apart the first motherfucker who even looks at him in slightly the wrong way. 

Classes have let out for the day, so the doors lining the hallway are all shut and presumably locked at this hour. He soon spies one, however, that is slightly ajar- and a quick peek inside finds the coast apparently clear. He slips in and immediately sets to digging around in his pockets in a bit of a twitchy frenzy, eventually fishing out the stainless steel flask he’d been seeking.

Naturally, alcohol is strictly forbidden in the school— but rules are probably the last thing on Sakahagi’s mind at the moment. Hands shaking with agitation, he unscrews and flips back the cap, and tips his head back to chug the entirety of the flask’s contents.

What a nice burn on the way down. 

He wipes his mouth on his sleeve, and leans his head forward to rest it against the wall. He’s just… gonna wait here a few minutes to let this kick in.

Sakahagi’s thinking about the smoke he’s going to have on the way back to the faculty dorms, when suddenly there’s a noise. He springs up straight and whips his body around, right hand deftly drawing his switchblade from its usual pocket to a ready position in a flash.

“Who’s there?!”

[sir-nyarl-blog]

From the shadows in a corner of the room emerged a tall, devilishly handsome man… at least, he thought he was handsome. “My my, trespassing into my classroom while I’m cleaning up for the day? I was not aware you were the janitor, Sakahagi.” Nyarlathotep, the man in question, let out a small smirk, calmly approaching Sakahagi, despite the fact that he had drawn a weapon against him. He was sure that the opposing man would question just how Nyarlathotep knew his name… but listening to rumors of students was one of his more favourite ways to pass the time. And it just so happened that he picked up a few… violent rumors about Sakahagi here. The one with a weird, half-bald head. The one who perhaps harmed a student, though there were no reports of such a thing. And Nyarlathotep thought that was quite a curious thing! For there to be rumors about such attacks, without proof. Were the students spouting gibberish? Or was this man able to influence another to keep news of the attack a secret? Either way, a mind like his seemed… fascinating to explore. He’d wanted to seek out Sakahagi on his own time, but the man saved him the trouble. “You should learn to share. I can still smell the potency of the liquor from that bottle of yours… you have good taste, my good sir. Though for you to drink and rest your head so wearily… why are you acting in such a manner? Put away your flimsy knife, I will not do you any harm… I’m just a simple teacher, after all.” He gave a dark chuckle, placing the book he held in his hand on a nearby desk. “If something’s bothering you… teacher or student, I feel it is my responsibility to help them. Why don’t you sit down… let’s talk.”

[sakahagi]

Not only has Sakahagi nearly had the shit startled out of him, but now alarm bells of paranoia are clanging loudly in his head.

"Who told you my name?!" He demands. He starts to step back as the man approaches him, but quickly stops himself and rigidly holds his ground. "Come any closer and this'll be lodged in your gut," he threatens, pointing the blade directly at the other. A teacher, eh? Well, he'll still be neither sitting nor putting his knife down- Sakahagi's never seen this guy before, and his body is flooded with far too much adrenaline to just grab a seat and chat right now. 

"And you think you can help me?!" He snaps in response to the offer. "Tch!! Take your 'help' and throw it at some sorry bitch who actually asks for it."

He feels a little sick to his stomach, really, that the other had witnessed him letting his guard down even the little bit that he had... Had seen him in a much weaker state than he prefers anyone else ever see.

Sakahagi twitches and runs a hand through his hair. God, he REALLY didn't need any of this shit today... Just wanted to get back to his room and drink himself to sleep. At least the warmth of what he HAS slammed down already is beginning to take hold in his body.

Ughh. This guy almost certainly knows something though, doesn't he? Sakahagi feels compelled to stay and find out what exactly that might be.

[sakahagi]

Sakahagi's trudging down the hallway following the end of another long shift in the cafeteria. Things were especially annoying today in that little piece of hell, and his resulting mood is even more foul than usual. He's just... He's itching for a fight. Itching for, well... MORE than a fight, actually. He's got to duck away somewhere to take a breather if he's gonna make it back home without ripping apart the first motherfucker who even looks at him in slightly the wrong way. 

Classes have let out for the day, so the doors lining the hallway are all shut and presumably locked at this hour. He soon spies one, however, that is slightly ajar- and a quick peek inside finds the coast apparently clear. He slips in and immediately sets to digging around in his pockets in a bit of a twitchy frenzy, eventually fishing out the stainless steel flask he'd been seeking.

Naturally, alcohol is strictly forbidden in the school-- but rules are probably the last thing on Sakahagi's mind at the moment. Hands shaking with agitation, he unscrews and flips back the cap, and tips his head back to chug the entirety of the flask's contents.

What a nice burn on the way down. 

He wipes his mouth on his sleeve, and leans his head forward to rest it against the wall. He's just... gonna wait here a few minutes to let this kick in.

Sakahagi's thinking about the smoke he's going to have on the way back to the faculty dorms, when suddenly there's a noise. He springs up straight and whips his body around, right hand deftly drawing his switchblade from its usual pocket to a ready position in a flash.

"Who's there?!"