( it's safe to say that the two of them are from entirely different worlds, and that's completely separate from being from the mortal and demon realms respectively. it's not to say that there isn't a place in hell where the imposition of muscle and base physical intimidation weren't perfectly effective, but it was a sight different from the upper crust echelons of the initialed and the political tightrope one had to walk if they just wanted to keep face, let alone get ahead in the world —
in the end, as he's overly cautious and thought-out with his words and only tangentially concerned with his physical well-being, makoto can be a very annoying creature to try to coerce — that is, for any creature that isn't the demon known as J.
his expression flattens out at the reply, eyes narrowing to match the unimpressed line his mouth presses into. petty insults just aren't any fun, as any effort put into defending oneself from them just ended up confirming them in the long run. so instead he huffs out a sigh, shaking his head. )You asked. Whether or not you decide to believe what I say is entirely up to you.
( his dramatized indifference dries up immediately, however, upon the admission of the name. with how sharp and keen his attention gets in that moment, an overly-contented smile curling the corners of his mouth, one might find themselves believing that there was some sort of power in giving a name to a demon. there isn't, but even still, makoto keeps it as jealously as he might a handful of gold dust. )
Well, then, Minegishi-san, ( he pronounces each distinct syllable of his name with a vaguely sing-song lilt — he knows that the rules that he's lived the last three years of his life under don't apply here, but there's still a placebo thrill in the mastery of another's name on your tongue. that he doesn't ask for makoto's in reply doesn't disappoint him in the least. if anything, it's a preferable position to be in. but as it is, he's not really here to play a guessing game. ) That's hard to say. What has value to me might be — or, rather, would most likely mean nothing at all to you.
( which, by nature, he finds ridiculous. information from even the most surprising of places can be very useful, if one is industrious enough to find a way to utilize it.
he hums, thoughtful. then he replies in a steady stream, never missing a beat in its recital: ) What did you ask a moment ago — what demons do every day? For labor or leisure? The answer to both is surprisingly similar to what it would be for humans. It's more common for powerful and well-known demons to get summoned to collect human souls, so the rest work to fill out all the other jobs you can think of in a society. And in their free time... well, they eat, drink, sleep, fight, fuck, laugh, lie, and do whatever they can to make sure they see the next day.
no subject
in the end, as he's overly cautious and thought-out with his words and only tangentially concerned with his physical well-being, makoto can be a very annoying creature to try to coerce — that is, for any creature that isn't the demon known as J.
his expression flattens out at the reply, eyes narrowing to match the unimpressed line his mouth presses into. petty insults just aren't any fun, as any effort put into defending oneself from them just ended up confirming them in the long run. so instead he huffs out a sigh, shaking his head. ) You asked. Whether or not you decide to believe what I say is entirely up to you.
( his dramatized indifference dries up immediately, however, upon the admission of the name. with how sharp and keen his attention gets in that moment, an overly-contented smile curling the corners of his mouth, one might find themselves believing that there was some sort of power in giving a name to a demon. there isn't, but even still, makoto keeps it as jealously as he might a handful of gold dust. )
Well, then, Minegishi-san, ( he pronounces each distinct syllable of his name with a vaguely sing-song lilt — he knows that the rules that he's lived the last three years of his life under don't apply here, but there's still a placebo thrill in the mastery of another's name on your tongue. that he doesn't ask for makoto's in reply doesn't disappoint him in the least. if anything, it's a preferable position to be in. but as it is, he's not really here to play a guessing game. ) That's hard to say. What has value to me might be — or, rather, would most likely mean nothing at all to you.
( which, by nature, he finds ridiculous. information from even the most surprising of places can be very useful, if one is industrious enough to find a way to utilize it.
he hums, thoughtful. then he replies in a steady stream, never missing a beat in its recital: ) What did you ask a moment ago — what demons do every day? For labor or leisure? The answer to both is surprisingly similar to what it would be for humans. It's more common for powerful and well-known demons to get summoned to collect human souls, so the rest work to fill out all the other jobs you can think of in a society. And in their free time... well, they eat, drink, sleep, fight, fuck, laugh, lie, and do whatever they can to make sure they see the next day.