( with nothing better to do, makoto turns his eyes on his fellow captives, watching them for the various types of behavior displayed by people in captivity. it was far more interesting than the stoicism of the guards, after all. some raged against them, either fooling themselves into thinking they could break away from their perimeter or just goading them into punishment they knew was coming. others faced inwards, going through the motions and staring into flickering campfires with dull eyes, useless to themselves and all others. the ones that he found most intriguing were those that tried as he did, to try to piece together the picture of the puzzle from the few pieces that they could find in this one camp. by this point he's fairly certain it's impossible, but who knows? maybe enough of them had noticed something interesting to give them an advantage.
this stranger is firmly in this third camp that makoto has marked. he catches sight of him all around, taking stock of their surroundings and scribbling his thoughts out into the dirt. it was one of the more constructive approaches to their conundrum that he's seen reflected in any of the strangers. naturally, he approaches him to pose his question and pick his brain.
he receives answers which weren't exactly what he was expecting — given how dull the day-to-day here is, makoto appreciates surprise where he can. )
Yes, that could be it. They can't give the surprise away.
( he cants his head to set the guard in question in his odd gray-on-red gaze, lips curling into a grin. he hums in agreement. ) He would look just as at home in an apron, bent over an oven, as he would in all that armor, I think. ( he breathes out a long sigh. ) So kind of them to ration us in a way that we'll have uproarious appetites when it's finally time for the feast...
( a demon couldn't die of hunger or thirst, but they eat and drink all the same, though more for the pleasure and the opulence of the thing. how thinly they've been fed and the effects it's been having on him have been one major part of his return to mortality that he's enjoyed the least. )
no subject
this stranger is firmly in this third camp that makoto has marked. he catches sight of him all around, taking stock of their surroundings and scribbling his thoughts out into the dirt. it was one of the more constructive approaches to their conundrum that he's seen reflected in any of the strangers. naturally, he approaches him to pose his question and pick his brain.
he receives answers which weren't exactly what he was expecting — given how dull the day-to-day here is, makoto appreciates surprise where he can. )
Yes, that could be it. They can't give the surprise away.
( he cants his head to set the guard in question in his odd gray-on-red gaze, lips curling into a grin. he hums in agreement. ) He would look just as at home in an apron, bent over an oven, as he would in all that armor, I think. ( he breathes out a long sigh. ) So kind of them to ration us in a way that we'll have uproarious appetites when it's finally time for the feast...
( a demon couldn't die of hunger or thirst, but they eat and drink all the same, though more for the pleasure and the opulence of the thing. how thinly they've been fed and the effects it's been having on him have been one major part of his return to mortality that he's enjoyed the least. )