* GROTESQUE SYMMETRY!

( and he didn't even get the gachapon he wanted. that was the worst of it all. hanabi liked it, seeing it was a mini-gardening simulation, but mahito couldn't of cared less! )

what he means to imply, is that this is even more woeful than that.

at the sight of vanth, mahito crouches down, piling a snowball back and forth in his hands. didn't humans need to breathe ? doesn't frost kind of mess them up ? . . .

"everyone likes a little horror. but it's just not that fun if some corpse freezes up in the snow. that's only fun when it starts to melt out," he mumbles. ah well. he'll take what he can get. "don't you humans need to--"

no, no. he'll keep his mouth shut.

"I won't repeat myself again," Corvus says with a warning tone. The energy this being spills out is nearly similar to that of the one who succeeded in sensing and killing her. Sukuna was it?

It's why Feniks is nowhere to be seen.

If Sukuna could pinpoint her heart, then....well, she's just been extra careful.

at that, mahito hoists the body up to stand. it leans forward ever so slightly from gravity alone, half-lidded gaze staring blankly upon stained grass & tongue loosely hanging from gaping maw.

( why add humanity ? the thing is dead, mahito reasons. )

at that, he snakes his way up their arm, before having it wave towards corvus.

"aw geez, i was caught at a bad time ! so~rry, can this wait ?" cursed spirit angles the head of the body into the nook of his arm, before digging spare fingers into the corpses open mouth to pull it into a smile. "i didn't think anyone could see me."

it's still strange, being seen by non-sorcerers. he digresses.

"it's pretty hard, y'know, doing what i do," he shrugs. mahito has always killed without regard. it is the same as yuji itadori, simply with curses rather than corpses. "people live and die all the time. they always come back in some shape or form. if death's so finite, what's the big deal ? don't you think it's important to save your own skin these days ?"

unwarranted

new

but that doesn't make it any easier to digest; in a place like this, far away from the world he knows, there are curses that plague the masses. The strange part of this, however, is how others appear to sense her and move out of the way -- like they can all see the patchwork face and scrawling lines that make up the human-not-human.

His technique is nothing to a curse like Mahito, thus a fight would be fruitless. After all that has been learned, Nanami knows that there is no chance he could even wear her down for a stronger opponent.

He fixes his glasses on his face, the light reflects off of it like he's calling for a challenge. There isn't one, but Nanami does not want to run away either -- so instead he holds his ground.

( there is no rest for a Jujutsu sorcerer, even in death. )

"This place sucks."

mahito cannot help but let out something odd of a noise. a wheezy laugh, transfiguring itself into something far more beautiful - hyena-esque in property, constrained, guttural before bursting from lips ever so lightly stringed with saliva.

nanami ! nanami kento ! right before him ! they really must be dead ! this was the river styx and mahito was nothing more than a mock charon to escort him to his eternity - to rot in tartarus alongside him in the murky depths of hades domain. no, no! elysium was for neither of them!

"hey, hey. did you learn anything?" head tilts to side, chipper tone. "you got it wrong before. don't think i forgot."

instinctively does he swivel wrist, a recall of how the sorcerer had plainly snapped it once before. "which came first ?" mahito parrots. same tone, same expression, same candid calmness apparent and settled on features. "the soul, or the body ?"

❝ All you do is talk! As if you've got a 'read' on people, but aren't you just illiterate? ❞ The last of that declaration is spat out, hateful and venomous. The grip on the hilt of his spear would be knuckle white were it not for his permanent shade. ❝ If only you'd wash away, not me! ❞

— it was zhilan.

eyes widen, lips splitting into cheshire grin. light and airy, as if it were weightless, a mirthful laugh splits through pressed lips. as if, amidst the carnage, zhilan had truly gone and done something in utter and total hilarity.

"how complicated can you be ? ♡" mahito crouches down, swiping a broken shard from the pavement - lifting it up, as if to expose zhilans reflection to himself. patchwork hands wave it back and forth a moment, as if zhilan were a child needing that extra incentive. "what's with the rush ? life has no meaning. you're weighed down by all these terrible emotions. you think it really does matter to someone out there that you're angry?"

he throws the glass behind his shoulder. "don't be ridiculous." at that, he brushes his hands against himself, bringing the vermillion-stained thumb to his lips to lick the excess. "yup. you're nothing more than paint. this window'll just get fixed, and you'll be washed riiiight away. eventually. never having made a single mark."

he knows he's pushing the envelope here. "i'll come back ! but will you ?" a pause, as if he wanted to spare zhilan a moments thought - but he knows the answer. and he hopes zhilan does too. "with all this limited time, the best you can do is a window ?! what a bore ! i can't imagine wasting the days before my execution just doing property damage ! won't you have some fun with it already ?"

The coral pink has reached a rebellious age - or perhaps a puberty. Temper tantrums, tears, slamming doors... This argument is the last (paint) drop, he dashes ahead in his intentions to run away.

Only it ends up being just a few steps before the legs of the colour mix up splatting him on the street right by someone's feet. He rises his eyes but not to street level to greet a foot.

" Hello there, you don't need to mind me. I'm here to stay. At my level.... "

ah, he was a little mopey . . . in contrast to mahitos typical thought patterns, what more to do when one sees a weak human than lend them your aid ? it's the most human thing to do, and thus he chooses that route.

in the background does he hear a faint yell. that doesn't sound happy.

" aww. that doesn't sound good. guess your double's trying to kill you too, huh? " hand extends, dropping in green, stitches carefully and painstakingly covered as if to be more presentable to those he speaks to. of course, the facial ones cannot, but it's the thought that counts. "hey, hey ! turn that smile upside down ! we can make a run for it. "

at that, he flashes eiden a big smile. it looks . . . unnerving, but that's just because of the normal mahitos tendency to present mostly jarring ones.

More eye-catching are the 18 floating paint cans, unopened and made to follow behind him like some sort of processional parade. Telekinesis was a useful errand skill, and Aurelius intended to maximize his abilities to paint a worthy mural on the city walls. Of course, part of that depends on which kinds of colors he picked up from around the city.

Just as he prepares to unscrew the paint can lids, his eyes catch a hint of color. He turns and frowns at the unexpected new arrival, arms crossed over his chest as a host of possible scenarios run through his head. Better address them all at once.

"Good evening."

"No I don't have money, I won't transfer you Dust, I'm not lacking in companionship, my skincare routine is fine, we are not long-lost relatives, you're not actually lost, and I've already found God."

What, were they still sticking around?

definitely not his weirdest day.

he allows aurelius to speak, and how wonderful it is to get through all of what he needs to say. unfortunately, it is nothing more than wasted breath - none of it remotely interests mahito in the slightest.

mid-way through speaking, mahito turns his back to aurelius. "m'kay," he speaks, dismissively waving him along. finger drags itself down the wall to make a small square, before layering over it with his palm to thicken the lines. "i'm busy."

it seems to be a diagram of sorts - something strange looking. a weird creature. he proceeds with the drawing for a little while, before turning back around.

"this is my wall," it's not ! but he's preoccupied with it now. "hopefully that makes sense !"

❝ Don't ask me. I think it's stupid, too. ❞ He'd come with the sole purpose of defacing this establishment, simply because his compliment adored it. He was terribly preachy, wasn't he, tailing him around from the moment he appeared with pleas of 'forgiveness' and 'compassion'. Wasn't it funny, then? Despite all his insistence, not once had he bothered to understand him—the resentment he possessed, or why it was so deeply rooted into him to begin with. This would get him off his back a while. Hurt him enough to make him lick his own wounds, leaving him free to roam alone as he wished. ❝ Before you misconstrue my words, I'm not on your side, either... You're just as infuriating as he is. Just a different kind. ❞ The wave of his arm is sharp, short-tempered, as it beckons his weapon to his side. These windows could be the first things to go. A quick smashing is all it would take. ❝ But I doubt you're going to come to his defense. So just stay back. ❞

" sides ? " comes the first word from his mouth. "i'm just here to kill some time."

there is a pause between the two. zhilans soul was something one may believe to be puppydogs, happiness, and all things soft. but what was this ? in hues of angry red was some form of his true self, mahito presumed, adorned in rage and fury. something ugly. something unseemly. personified in aggressive acts & sharp words - not held back by the insistent begging of his far cheerier self.

"no matter how much you hide it, the blood of your soul trickles out sometimes," lips part, and hands shove themselves into pockets. mahito makes no motion to move, simply gazing towards the windows, impending their smashing. "no matter how hard you try to patch up every nook and cranny . . . it's just a human tendency to let it bleed through sometimes."

a sharp laugh. "i feel . . . like i'm witnessing some sort of spectacle !" mahito smiles. beams, even. "raw aggression. no wonder you're so strong. it all makes sense now."

with a shrug, he does take a few steps back. "go ahead," what's he going to do? stop him? "i'm excited."

" Eh? Cards? Like playing cards? P*kemon cards?! You said wallet first... "

It could be that he just keeps them there then he should say that in the first place!!! Eiden can't help being suspicious now can he.... No way can he believe he'll just want to talk with him, not when he's telling Eiden to do that.

" Sorry, but this isn't really my problem is it?

Eiden drags his heels into the ground, pulling his off the strangers grip. He ought to be decisive here or he'll be pulled into his nonsense.

" Look, it sucks if he took them or whatever but I don't like the way you're going on about this! "

mahito shrugs. were he any different, perhaps he'd have melded their flesh together in an act of utter hilarity. nonetheless, hands meet themselves by his sides, and mahito stops in his tracks.

it seems as if he's memorizing eidens face for a moment. deadpan expression, iris twitching from feature to feature. "uh-huh."

alright, he has it! it's in his mind. "got it." ( in reality, it's unlikely mahito will do a single thing with such information - likely, he might just make himself forget it on the merit it's useless... but it's the thought that counts!)

with a nod, mahito hops a few paces back. "i can feel your soul tremble at the sheer thought of inconveniencing anyone. right?"

with a shrug, hair whips around and he hops a few steps forward. "whatever."