A M A I M O N - autoplay

 // ABOUT // RULES // VERSES

“…Ow.”

“Stop that please.”

    The train ride was rather bare. Not a lot of people within the trains. Mainly because many saw Shigaraki there and high tailed it out of there to take another train. Only few were brave enough to be in a vicinity of the Symbol of Terror.

     Crimson hues were glued to the Switch screen, being oblivious to the world around him. Until he heard another voice, one that seemed to be directed at him. Eyes flicked up to look at the other, then back to his screen so he wouldn’t lose his game.

     “No, I will not give it to you. I’m in the middle of a level. And you’d probably break it,” Shigaraki replied, strengthening his grip on the system in case there were any grubby little hands going for it.

Amaimon hated to be ignored... and the fact that the screen of a game was getting more acknowledgement than him had ticked him off a little.  His sharp teeth crunched against the lollipop in his mouth, his lips curled into a frown.

“Well that’s not very nice to assume.  I might have a very careful and delicate touch.  Quite hurtful to make such a quick judgement about a person.”

He feigned offense, moving to crouch on the seat next to the other.  He didn’t respect personal space much.

Amaimon had been eyeing the other villain for a few long moments... more specifically, the brightly coloured device in his hands.  It seemed like some sort of game, though the green-haired one didn’t care much for those.

He’d been perched on top of a street lamp for more than an hour now, intermittently people-watching while flipping through a manga.  The comic fell through his hands abruptly and hit the ground below face-down.  And a student was about to step on it.