•ｄｕｂｉｅｔｙ⚊ ⦅ ᴀᴘ ⦆

          Oh. Did he not like that? Akira’s blank expression looked back at him. Head tilting ever so slightly.

             “ …. “

•  Agree. •  Disagree. •  Suggest that he enjoyed that.

             “Not particularly. (We all don’t have barns, Akechi.)”

             Of course, he would keep touching his face. Smirk held in place for an instant, before vanishing a split second later. 

             “Would you prefer I (bite) you next time?”

                ❝ .   .   . ❞

     anger flashes in the depths of crimson irises with the boy’s response. he thinks it a game, does he? to push the envelope and dig under the trickster’s skin for a laugh? but it is a game, loki knows. they are pawns to a god’s game and loki is no fool to believe there will be a winner.

     it is his contractor’s name which centers loki to the present. that’s right─he is not himself. he is  goro akechi. not a damned and scorned false god whom desired nothing but to tear down which restrains him. to, albeit futility, destroy whom has reduced him to this miserable existence. though in doing so, loki is aware he would only further chain himself to be pulled along to another’s whim. the thought brings the trickster down from his rapturous temper; lips do not curl into a foul snarl as he so wishes. no, loki is too aware of his image to allow something so  insignificant  chip away at his façade. he has better control than that.

     ❝ ever the joker, i see. ❞

     his words mingle on a voice which is not his own─the timbre of a soft spoken boy who so meticulously plans day in and day out his daily life. a child whom loki is bound; whom he reflects the core feelings of, and yet does not.  ( they are, ultimately, one in the same )  on his lips rests a soft curl which a laugh would come to pass. and with that same television-ready attitude, loki continues:

     did he seriously─oh my god. that is so disgusting! what gave this  rotten child the audacity to lick his entire hand?! loki had just as soon as wipe his hand off──right across akira’s nasty face.

“ you say that i’d be wishing that i’d slept, but, at this point, perhaps i would take being dead over nightmares like these. “

coffee is his best friend; he’s afraid that he’ll end up seeing everything he’s done behind his eyelids. it makes him sick.

“ why does it matter to you, loki? “

     ❝ i have my reasons, as you have yours. ❞

     such words roll so plainly from the trickster’s mouth; ne’er more thought upon than the breath which is drawn into rotted lungs. lungs which have no right to swallow air; lungs which should not be allowed to pollute this earth with his fallacies. yet he delights in doing so anyway. as if, out of some form of spite, he enjoys clinging so pathetically to life. loki muses, e’er briefly, that such a feelings stems not of his own nature, but that of his troubled contractor.

I take it back I regret my life

the rationalist in me wants this to die in a fire but the sadist in me wants to see you do an entire RP in that

     ah, there he is─that troublesome boy whose worries & anxieties would occasionally seep & muddle with one’s thoughts. what a life he has been reduced to─adhering to a broken child’s psyche as if it were his own. but of course, that is the key factor behind their contract; i am thou, thou art i, etcetera and so forth. goro’s weight rests fully onto loki’s resting form ( he, himself, decidedly lounging as if he possessed not one care in the damnable world ) & the trickster does not so much as raise a finger to address his detestably needy contractor. no, instead he lifts just his voice─a lazy sort of sound which is carried with a jovial ( if not with of a touch of sarcasm ) note──

goro is soooooooo upset

     ❝ of course. not all lies are for ill reason. ❞

     yeah, myself from my parents.

     ❝ it happens from time to time, but never over anything serious. ❞

     eh, i do it regularly. like, almost daily. if i actually, you know, get out aside from work.