All that lives must die.

"And its more fun than being powerless and doing nothing at least. This place is a little dangerous, sure, but it beats sitting at home on my ass all day with nothing good to make up with it?"

Or worse. Stuck on the planet blow working his ass Off with nothing to show for it.

She had a point in the fact this was a new place with a new situation, of which he never dreamed he would be subjected to. To be fair, he never thought he'd lose either, and yet here he was.

His situation was closer to the fact his tunnel vision has opened into a valley view. It's as strange as it is overwhelming and beautiful in some instances. Awestruck to the point indecisiveness is unlike him.

He didn't feel the need to relay any of this with the woman, however, but he could give a sort of vagueness.

"To put things in perspective for you, I died in the Taishō era. You get some modicum of knowledge from the modern era apparently when you arrive here. However... this is just a lot to take in. In general."

They turn down a hallway, the sounds of fighting ricocheting off the metal walls.

Or maybe that a gunshot? A bullet bouncing off the metal walls of a space station sounded incredibly idiotic now that he has a second to think about it.

"Excuse me, monsieur, but is this seat taken?" Vivianne finds herself asking a very well-dressed individual.

"If not, may I join you? I promise my companion will not bother you." The companion in question, a small, brown fox-cat, gives a soft "vui!" as a vocalization. As if to agree with its owner.

Which he did find a little humor in the fact the orchard had ash in it's title.

The girl spoke, and so did her large-- creature of some sort. A dog? A dog then.

The scent of smoke curled within his senses, the demon tilting his head in the direction it came from and wandering a little closer to figure out what might be the cause. To his delight, it seemed to be from cooking rather than an actual destructive sort of fire (however, that would have been just as thrilling).

What entices him more so, was the familiar sight of that intricate suit he was so used to seeing his master in. He decided to come outside after all!

It was far less effective on him.

And yet he found himself lured ever so closer to the smoke and scent in the air. Salt water air and the savory smell of smoked meats smelled... divine. All it took to participate seemingly was a single dinner ticket that they sold? Interesting.

What wasn't very interesting was Douma pulling him from the small trance by appearing beside him from nowhere. Being unable to truly feel his demons when they're this close was starting to concern him.

She tires to not focus on the fact Muzan thought she was here to die. She isn't, but it doesn't seem worth it to argue.

However, he gets the feeling his only feeling marginally better was because he had just about all of his facilities back and working again. He'd probably lose it all if he went home and nothing was waiting for him there at the moment...

"Hm," His eyes flicked forward as more of those creatures appear to spot him. His whips, seemingly after having a taste, spear through any of the cyborgs without much effort on his part.

"I'm still deciding if I want to help more than what I'm doing right now."

Any creatures he's slain are less creatures the actual stage area had to deal with. Which is already more useful than he ever really meant to be.

A whip flicked itself past the girl, cutting the cyborg in half without so much as turning his head.

Yet the this world was still a novelty.

Kokushibo words made his lip curl ever so slightly. If his First Moon chose to tell him that, then there must be very little he can do about the circumstances as it were. He'll deal with that when the time came.

"How miserable."

He mutters, gripping his cloak closer. There's some planning to do, but all of it was to get his bearings. He couldn't necessarily feel his demons like he could before.

He only knew they were here. Not for the first time does he miss Nakime's presence.

"If this truly is some sort of city, then I'm sure the housing situation can change."

Her head doesn't look towards him as she speaks up to his question. Though she does finally pull up her sword up and off the hook at her hip to brace it properly in her grip. Testing the hold of it as she looks back down the hall.

Throbbing red on white down the narrow corridor ahead before she can see the open light in the distant towards the end.

"Asking it like that makes you sound weird. Earthling, Human, they're close enough."

She huffs and glances to him before nodding her head forward.

"Least you got some rest. Would suck otherwise, ain't that right?"

There's a ghost of a huff as he lifted his gaze from Maki and to the corridor. The sound of battle was moving, it seemed and Muzan wasn't very keen on engaging with more than one person. Nor fighting anyone. The only drive he had was to leave and go home once he did.

One loon was more than enough to deal with as it was.

After a moment's silence passes, he steps to the side to let Muzan pass him. His footsteps fall into place at his back as if no time had passed.

The viewing area had a handful of people, mostly couples leaning on each other and pointing out the shaped fireworks that burst occasionally. When the pair of them stop, the one overhead is another flower, showered over them in pink sparks.

"Are you really just here to see the fireworks?"

A pause, his eyes turning to watch the shapes again.

His words were dry as his eyes flicked to Akaza until another large boom sounds over head. A large sunrise of pinks and purples and orange light up the sky.

He took a seat and gestured toward the spot beside him. The rest of the viewers were huddled up on the ground while a few lined up against the railing. The hill's height was appreciated, not having to lift one's head so high to enjoy the show in it's entirety.

"The explosions caught my attention."

Mostly of Ubuyashiki's attempt of riling up his horde of slayers. He was still impressed even now, the hatred the man held in his final moments. Truly a curse upon him.

She thinks on it, recalling the urge inside of her and feeling that it stemmed more from her chest and not so much her mind. But she'd be hard pressed to explain that outloud to the guy beside her.

"Like something is urging for us to get up, but I doubt it's this facility. Why would they want their lil rats out? Unless they infected us with something we don't know yet..but then whatever shot those bullets earlier wouldn't be trying to put us down."

The thought makes her sigh, though she does take note of his name. Muzan.

What an old Name. And what a heavy one at that. It gets her to look to where he was looking outside the window too, at the 'earth' below them and the island they can almost see fully.

Huh.

Almost enough to make you stop completely.

"Well, let's hope they haven't gone that far."

He mutters it to hide the spike of anger that flares inside him. The idea of yet another poison in his body unwanted and unwarranted made him want to snap his jaws around the head of the one who put him through this.

The odd question pulled him from those thoughts however.

He's been trying to break his habit of only being active at night - but tonight, there's something compelling him to wander his way down the edges of the enormous pool the locals called the Water of Styx. It sounds like something that Muzan would be interested in studying, but he only lingers on the thought for half a moment before there's the bright burst of lights overhead.

He tilts his head back to look at the fireworks launched overhead. Starbursts of color illuminate the pool, the water reflecting back at him and shining bright against his skin. There are shapes of animals among the sparks - but he hardly takes note of them when he sees the next round of them break overhead in a new shape.

Flowers. Dozens of them - and interspersed between them, the petals almost look like snowflakes instead. An odd choice for the summer, but one that knots tight in his chest with a memory.

Murphy's Law and all that.

Muzan watches the night sky explode in lights and colors. The display over the top, extravagant. As if the stars themselves were imploding and their debris rained down in sparks of light.

It was... beautiful. If he had to pick a word.

Akaza stood in the middle of the way. He was only mildly surprised to see the other out and about on this side of the city.

He hated the idea of the second enough that he could feel an itch across his skin, making him shudder as he sighs.

"Is that no longer the plan here? Can you even do as much anymore?"

It might be considered blasphemy to question Muzan's abilities, but he can't help the way it bubbles in his chest with an edge of laughter.

"You and I aren't so different here, are we? You're on even field with your Moons now! If I didn't want to follow your orders, could you do anything about it?"

There was an odd familiarity that was... comfortable. He would not call Akaza the most loyal. Maybe in the past. Not now. Not after witnessing his defeat and surrender first hand.

Kokushibo and Douma both fought to the bitter end. Neither of them gave up or gave in.

Akaza...

Anger doesn't boil over. He doesn't even take offense really from the provoking words.

...Akaza.

"Come. Try it."

Those pink slits focuses entirely on the shatter retinas that he took the time to carve into. How they stare back with such poorly aimed anger.

"Douma is proof that the longer we stay here, our former strength will return." Those pink eyes bore into yellow. A clear threat and open invitation all in one. He's always been so charitable with his upper moons. A fault it seems.

Out of one nightmare and into another confusing situation.

It felt apocalyptic. Well, one that he didn't cause.

Creatures stormed the streets with people running and screaming in droves. There were some individuals down there fighting to feed off the horde. There were some individuals who was singing and those were being targeted heavily.

Interesting...

But was it interesting enough for him to help out either sides? No, not really. His demons can do whatever they please during this crisis and he himself have chosen to perch and watch and--

Two whipped tentacle shoot out to tear through and tear apart one of these ugly creatures once it rushed toward him. The many mouths he's covered in snap their jaws in irritation at the lack of actual chewing they get to do here.

He looks over in time to spot someone smart enough to keep themselves out of the direct line of sight of these rejects.

She had found a place to hide to catch her breath when something? No, someone with many mouths speaks. Namine startles, but that is all she does.

"I-I-" she stammers. "I can't really fight."

Then again, that's what most humans were to him. A fact that hasn't changed despite being revived. The girl was merely a prime example among such stock.

He turned his head away to survey the flow of battle once more.

"If you can't fight, then why are you here? There are less exciting ways to die."

Hanging one's self was always a spectacle, drowning took ages, being ripped apart by a demon would either last a few hours or so instant she wouldn't know she even died.

She says it with a cant of her hips, hand coming to rest on it as she looked down the hallway to gauge how fast they could probably book it to the open end. Assuming there was a center with other branching hallways anyways.

"Maki."

She answers it easy enough and looks to him expectantly for his own, but until he does she keeps going.

"Not coming to you 'cuz I think you're not a fighter. I got this urge to run through this place as fast as possible. Like some kinda animal cattle-prodded into action, the others all felt it too so they bolted."

Her head tilts some towards him then gestures with the wooden sword down the hall they'd need to go to get out of there.

"But you didn't bolt. Neither did I. Means either you're confident enough to get out without having that urge panic you into it...or..You have a plan of some sorts."

The halls were only a bit quieter as the sirens seemed mostly aimed at the well populated areas. He understood what she meant. A call and pull toward something-- to do something. Something he naturally wants to resist.

"If I had a plan, we wouldn't be talking." He sighs, annoyed but not necessarily at his current company.

"Do you think these hunks of metal are causing this instinct to implore us into action? If not, I guess following where it guides wouldn't hurt."

There's a pause as they make a quick turn down another hall. This one came with an observation window of what should've been earth and the sun. That island was indeed on a planet. One that he's never seen before nor the stars that danced in orbit. It was beautiful in it's own right.

Where the fuck are they?

In that brief pause, looks back to Maki.

Her eyes watch him in an informative manner. A simple once over as she gauges him from his top of his waved hair to the white pants he was sporting. He didn't look dazed. Just annoyed.

A little like her.

"Not really. Heard everyone else was making a break for it, though. Seems there's a way out of here if we can find it..downside is I'm pretty sure I heard gunshots so it likely won't be easy."

She still wasn't sure exactly what would happen to her if she was shot up here. Or how those bullets didn't just tear holes through walls of this lunar based operation-- but then again nothing here seemed to ever make sense.

Her eyes cast down onto his open and empty hands.

"So, if you want to make it far, you either gotta be good at dodging, or be good at deflecting....Don't see a weapon on you so I'm gonna assume you're better at the former."

Pink eyes pull from her weapon and toward the open hallway that's fading in and out of the red blaring lights. "You can assume all you want. I won't need a babysitter." He says it as a matter of fact and less like a challenge. He was the first to move toward their only exit.

There had been people she remembers waking up with. They had been smarter than her (or maybe just more impatient) and had wandered ahead of her to begin maze-ing in and out of the white halls.

Her eyes catch in half reflections of the windows she passes, along the cells, to see she had been changed out of her usual attire. Equally sterile clothes to match the environment were on her- but they hadn't been brave, or foolish, enough to take the wooden sword from her hand.

It doesn't stop her from coming to a slow and steady stop to one of the final cells on this side of the ..station? If they could call it that even. The lights that throb and paint the long corridors in red also bathe her and the young man (teen?) in front of her. The whirling probably nausea inducing for those who were sensitive to such, but in the breathes of silence between the wailing sirens that accompanied the red, it felt familiar.

She wonders if the guy in front of her whom hadn't been startled into action felt the same way.

By the time he was sitting up, most of the sounds were coming from blaring sirens and the flashing red light. It was all... fairly overstimulating as it was familiar to say the least.

Muzan was getting pretty fed up with waking in some random fucking place he does not remember arriving to, to be quite frank. And alone for that matter. He didn't feel his demons like he's supposed to. Reaching out through the blood connection feels like screaming into an empty void.

Annoying...

He was still mulling on what to do, if he was to do anything when someone stood in front of his holding cell.

The question was posed and-- no... no he was not waiting on anyone to find him. The likelihood that they would come looking was still incredibly high. He wouldn't be waiting on them though.

He regarded the young woman, with a small head tilt. Despite the glass being thick, he could smell how strong she was. Her blood alone had a linage to boast of. How interesting.

Finally, Muzan shook his head.

"No, I'm not sick."

Might as well have this be the topic instead of continuing to step on the other man's toes.

He sneers mostly to himself but he won't stop his current company for believing otherwise.

"I am not well-versed in politeness. Conversations with me will be blunt; if that bothers you and you stay, then it's not my problem."

Not like he had had much time to learn social constructs. The moment his feet had touched the ground, they had been moving. War. It didn't leave room for a whole lot.

"New, yes. And not just here."

Cryptic. Explaining his situation was a lot more complicated than comparing this stranger to his father.

The name grinds gears in his mind, not even willing to grace it the release through his lips. Despite how his subordinates knew him, he had a rather even temper. Some lowlife who sees their demons in other strangers really wasn't worth the blood they have.

Though this one in particular... There's a strangeness to it that he can smell just from being in close proximity. It was enough to at least keep the conversation going for now.

"You smell strange."

He decides to formally and loudly ignore whatever the hell Choso was talking about.