( and makoto would be happy to keep it close to the vest that he's been a rising star in the social hierarchies of hell, especially if it can trick others into underestimating him for his perceived youth or naivety. as it is, since he can sense that all of the rules he had been living by after becoming a demon are no longer at play here, he's cautious. does a name hold the same amount of power? it's already an unwelcome reversal to see strength of arms rising to precedence rather than the beguiling power of a silver tongue. if those rules that he was familiar still reigned here, all it would have taken to get out of here was one weak-willed guard.

but as it is, he's far to physically weak to get anything done, even without the enervation that had settled over him after getting out of that chrysalis. so they can play at being useless idiots together, or at least for the time being, waiting for whatever optimal time to lay down their cards might come (if it came at all). )

Well, it's nothing concrete, of course, but, ( and as he speaks, his hands splay out, the pads of each fingers spread, ) we all woke up in distant, disparate locations, and yet, ( his fingers slowly move in towards the center before they meet together, ) we were all brought here. It could be this was just the most convenient location, sure, but... ( he gazes back at the broken piece of wall. ) That this is here as well... It makes one wonder.

( yes, he'd heard from one of the less observant guards about a "ritual," but that could be any number of things. in conjunction with the ruin of an ancient civilization, well... the context could get darker. he isn't certain. he had been searching the broken pieces of rock, hoping he might get any piece of an answer. )