( makoto's immortality has weighed down on him like a millstone around his neck. demons existed so long as they were known — to speak the name of any demon was to breathe life into their perpetual existence, and the only way he could ever think to see it curtailed would be to either blot out his name from the memories of any and all demons who knew it or to blot out the demons themselves. the concept of his own end had felt so far out of reach because, back in hell, it wouldn't even be a possibility until he had destroyed J.
there's an iron sort of resignation in makoto's eyes in this assertion, then, that clashes loudly against the focus he finds in dextera's. two disparate strangers, so perfectly convicted of truths that they might or might not have shed upon arriving here... an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object.
he reads the response. inexplicably, as many of makoto's responses are, he grins.
he stands a moment after dextera does, and for a moment he lingers there, head tilted ever-so-slightly to one side as he studies the other young man. it's evident enough to see that he carries the guarantee like a burdensome mantle instead of a blade; makoto has dealt with enough braggadocian demons so satisfied in the malice of their potential violence that he can spot the difference without trouble. as tantalizing as this fascination may be... makoto knows that you can only burn the candle as far as the wick can allow. overstaying would only push his luck. so, after a long and silent moment joins them as an unwelcome third, he simply says with overt geniality, ) Until next time, Dextera-san, ( before purposefully moving past him. it's with such proximity that one might almost expect a shoulder-check, but makoto seems to flow around him like water, and then he's gone. )
no subject
there's an iron sort of resignation in makoto's eyes in this assertion, then, that clashes loudly against the focus he finds in dextera's. two disparate strangers, so perfectly convicted of truths that they might or might not have shed upon arriving here... an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object.
he reads the response. inexplicably, as many of makoto's responses are, he grins.
he stands a moment after dextera does, and for a moment he lingers there, head tilted ever-so-slightly to one side as he studies the other young man. it's evident enough to see that he carries the guarantee like a burdensome mantle instead of a blade; makoto has dealt with enough braggadocian demons so satisfied in the malice of their potential violence that he can spot the difference without trouble. as tantalizing as this fascination may be... makoto knows that you can only burn the candle as far as the wick can allow. overstaying would only push his luck. so, after a long and silent moment joins them as an unwelcome third, he simply says with overt geniality, ) Until next time, Dextera-san, ( before purposefully moving past him. it's with such proximity that one might almost expect a shoulder-check, but makoto seems to flow around him like water, and then he's gone. )