#eternalfratricide

[revclver-jesus]

Takaya, standing shirtless in the snow:

[risctte]

Continued from here. ♥ @eternalfratricide

Wait, really? Not that she doubted her appeal--she had spent years honing it the way that a warrior would hone their skills to win in battle--but Shin had come across as more than a little aloof in the brief time that she had known him. He reminded her of some of the more brilliant choreographers or fashion designers that she had known during her time as an idol, with how centered his mind was around his chosen artform. That kind of devotion to his craft was impressive, especially considering how most of the teenagers she knew--herself included!--could be flighty and indecisive. That steadfastness was one of the main things to intrigue the Lovers.

...well, that and how his hair looked like it would be a dream to play with.

"Hmmm...~" Making a show of pondering her answer, the smile that graced famous lips was more than a little mischievous. Whether or not she was being serious about the suggestion she posed was anybody's guess, but she would be paying close attention to his reaction to see if he'd be fun... or a stick in the mud. "I mean, we could hop the train to Okina and see if there's any of those wild love hotels with the slides and the way out there decor? I've always been curious if the rumors are true!"

[tacitusauxilium]

@eternalfratricide sent:

"So you can't fly?"

He stands a short distance from her. He wasn't part of SEES, but having a Persona meant he didn't succumb to the Dark Hour, so he would sometimes tag along. Today, he'd finally found the courage to actually talk, instead of standing around pretending Fuuka needed a bodyguard.

"I get not fighting. But you can't... Really? That's..."

"No, I cannot. But, it's fine."

Fuuka states softly, walking alongside Shin and interlocking her fingers and keeping a small smile on her lips. Granted, she wished she was able to fight and make sure her allies were safe and sound, but Fuuka was too frail to fight. Period. "It does suck, I'll admit it. But, being able to keep a watchful eye on the shadows and my friends calms my heart down. Being connected with them makes me feel wanted and I'll do anything to make sure they are safe."

[revclver-jesus]

The sound of a heel on concrete. Ryo turns his head just slightly, enough to give an eye to the intruder. And that eye narrows. He's vaguely aware of this person, enough to know that tonight might not be the same monotony every other night has been.

He was rather enjoying that monotony streak.

"I don't fancy your chances," He mutters, "Do us both a favour, stranger. Go in peace."

✞  ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ He smirks at the familiar words. ❝ I intend to... ❞

He sighs the word, a sound more than tired, beleaguered, an exhaustion that seemed to just be a permanent part of his voice when he dare thought of rest. Deep rest. The kind you don't have to wake up from. Bliss. ❝ ... When our time comes. ❞

Those lethargic eyes, golden like a panther's in the pale moonlight, narrow thinner as he tilts back his head and purses his silver brows. ❝ Come now... Don't be unfriendly. Do you mean my chances for polite conversation or something else? ❞ He sarcastically hummed in feigned innocence, a lazy and long hand raising to gesture in shrug, the other always seeming to rest on the handle of his large gun-- not even like one ordinarily would, in threat or preparedness, he rests almost like the arm of a chair, so accustomed to it there it was but a place for his boney hand to be.

They've been watching him. Him and that brother of his. Of course they know of him, of his powers, nothing could disturb the still air of the Dark Hour without them knowing it, these strays, these runaways. They were the very shadows the falling moon cast, you simply ran aimlessly amongst them.

Of course, he was also a criminal, yes. Though to what extent they may truly not know. Not just during the Dark Hour, at that, but still, look at how the tall young man approaches without fear, the confidence in his reclining, exposed spine-- do you really think you can incarcerate a ghost, even if you knew its name? And that is what he is, after all. Something alive that should be dead. Pale, eyes aglow, able to disappear at the witching hour, unaccounted for by every file and record, left to rot, with every intent of dragging you to the after life with him. They were all ghosts, this remaining three, blessed be by the night herself. And lo'-- for this little... natural persona user has been wandering a little too close to a place haunted. ❝ Won't you tell me what it is you're looking for... stranger? ❞