Mirror of Misfortune

"Nothing so poetic as he normally speaks. He told me you were here - and that Lord Muzan was here as well. He didn't hesitate to tell me that I was going to be weaker than normal for some time."

The bitter edge of his voice is hard to miss. The fact he was actively weaker than the other Upper Moons right now would drive him mad if he lingered on it for too long - but Muzan was weak right now too.

He turns his hand a bit, looking at the tattoos on his hands. They had disappeared in the last moments he remembered, but here he was, demonic once again.

"But he didn't elaborate much further. I've noted that we can walk in the sun now, and that I haven't felt particularly weakened by a lack of food. Is there anything else you've noticed?"

His eyes slip to Kokushibo's side. He's unarmed, which meant he's been stripped of his blade.

He would fall in step behind his Moon, quietly realizing that his senses have significantly dulled. Humans typically would have overwhelming scents, perfumes, colognes, stenches that clung to their skin. Demons were scentless but blood did trail their every step.

Kokushibo seemed to have suffered from the lack of such bloody meals. Something he'll have to get used to and tolerate.

"Be on the look out," He starts, "With how strange this place is, there's surely other creatures here who will give us trouble."

"Nothing so poetic as he normally speaks. He told me you were here - and that Lord Muzan was here as well. He didn't hesitate to tell me that I was going to be weaker than normal for some time."

The bitter edge of his voice is hard to miss. The fact he was actively weaker than the other Upper Moons right now would drive him mad if he lingered on it for too long - but Muzan was weak right now too.

He turns his hand a bit, looking at the tattoos on his hands. They had disappeared in the last moments he remembered, but here he was, demonic once again.

"But he didn't elaborate much further. I've noted that we can walk in the sun now, and that I haven't felt particularly weakened by a lack of food. Is there anything else you've noticed?"

His eyes slip to Kokushibo's side. He's unarmed, which meant he's been stripped of his blade.

"Lord Kokushibo."

His voice is kept even on purpose when he greets him. The fact of the matter was that he lacked his strength currently - which meant he held no chance of besting the Upper Moon One even on his best day.

Which meant he had to play nice.

"Douma told me you were here as well. It seems we've found ourselves in quite the strange situation."

He lifts his head without being addressed, arms folded across his chest. The Uppermost Moons gathered in one place, aimless for their goals - Akaza finds it fascinating that Kokushibo hasn't rounded them up into something yet.

"Akaza." So he'd finally decided to see him, how strange. He'd expect the demon to be just as disrespectful of him at always but this was a nice change of pace for him even if it wasn't his choice. "Strange, yes it is." What else could he say on it?

He knew it wouldn't be a problem, especially with their extensive discussion of curses and demons in comparison to one another. Douma had even had a chance to taste Mahito's blood! He pondered for a moment, if Kokushibo would be given the same grace when his curse friend didn't seem to mind the interaction in the first place.

Admittedly, it was much more tasteful than the regular blood of faceless people that would only vanish shortly after and provided little nutrition for the demon.

"Mahito is something called a cursed spirit! He started off as nothing more than a mass of negative emotions, and grew into something beautiful! I commend his efforts, it must have taken quite some time!"

His finger taps against his bottom lip, thinking over what other interesting aspects he could list, "While he may have a humanoid shape, he's covered in patchwork scars, two different eyes, and can mold his body into anything he wishes."

Even for the confirmation that everything was fine at their home, there had been something itching at the back of Rengoku's mind for the past few days. This place didn't seem to have a picky sort of system when it came to newcomers, every few days there was an eclipse, and all sorts of fresh people were plucked from their respective universe to be sent into this new nexus.

Which only made him more wary when he was able to come across someone in more traditional wear that was familiar to his gaze. Someone dressed a samurai, in this place?

"Pardon me, sir."

Well, he was being honest. Douma had simply taken to picking and choosing who he spoke with and eventually...things sort of fell into his lap. This wasn't anything unusual considering his treatment from Lord Muzan and lack of needing to work for his meals.

"They seem to be on the level of Gods for this universe, they're the ones that make the major decisions around this place, sort of like how we were ranked within the walls of the castle. I can only guess with time we can regain our capabilities, but for now, we have to abide by their rules!"

His sing song tone was likely only adding to Kokushibo's aggravation, but he wasn't one to frustrate himself into a tizzy like Upper One and Upper Three.

Ah, he missed his friend, Akaza.

Douma claps his hands together as he prepared a little explanation for his superior, proud to give a report for the first time in a while. Lord Muzan would hesitate on giving him missions after all, he felt lazy and this was an opportunity to show his worth!

"When I arrived I just kept my regeneration, but after talking to a few people I was able to ask the Stars for a bit of my freezing blood back! While it's not up to the peak form it was before, I have to start somewhere, right?"

He raises a hand and scrapes the palm with his nail, allowing the blood that beads forth to freeze into about the size of a ball for throwing.

Exposed. There was no other way he felt. Not unlike a bug who's rock had been disturbed.

Irritation grated his nerves. Pulled from hell just to land in what could only be a petri dish. His hand lifted rub the space between his brows. His red eyes glared though it wasn't Kokushibo's fault for reporting.

"I see."

The irritation was only growing now.

"These... people aren't real, then? Not human," His gears started to turn as his gaze traveled out toward the still moving sea of witless individuals.

In truth Douma had only heard a sliver of noise from both on rare occasions, but the house had been much more quiet as of late. He wondered if they were busy, or had vanished somewhere. Oh well.

Overwhelmed was beyond what this was. Even with Kokushibo sliding to greet him properly, it takes some time to form the proper question.

He was as jovial as ever, the same smiling face that would greet Kokushibo at every Upper Moon meeting, even if they were being scolded in the process. The younger demon takes a hold of that hand, pulling him along without batting an eye at the mention of chomping on a few locals. He did the same upon arrival after all.