COME AT ME

One moment of silence goes to two, then it almost gets uncomfortable. He’s just staring, mouth slightly agape at Chrollo.

“You’re asking me.... about tracksuits.” It’s said slowly as if he’s coming to terms with it.

“Already? They should have just given up.” There’s a crack as he flexes his hand, his knuckles shifting back into place. He’s already warming up, rolls his shoulder once, twice.

Transmuters are all some type of gremlin.

Smoking

Phinks picked up smoking at a young age, primarily to combat hunger and as a means of stress relief. While he’s mostly quit the habit now, there are still times when he’ll smoke, usually to be caught and lectured later by someone.

He should know better- don’t take the bait, don’t take the bait; but since when has he ever known better. He makes that face at Feitan, nose scrunches up. Well, he has to respond to it, doesn’t he?

Dominance

Phinks should know better than to harass Feitan in the kitchen. His roommate was willing to do the cooking more times than not and it wasn’t some simple meal, the man put together four-course meals that could put a lot of restaurants to shame. The only problem was the ‘no eating’ rule- that Phinks couldn’t eat any of it until it was all done. He was impatient and there were no snacks in the rest of the flat, he’s waiting in the kitchen and begs Feitan for some food, he should have known better. Just as soon as he’s chewing the pepper do his eyes start to water and suddenly his entire mouth is on fire. Cheeks are pink and he’s rushing around the kitchen until he can find a glass and get water, pointing at the man as his mouth still burns.

Dominance

His nose crinkles as he looks over his shoulder- leave it to Hisoka to catch him when he’s misbehaving. The man always seems to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, or maybe it’s the right place at the right time? Phinks isn’t certain and either way, now he’s annoyed.

Dominance

This is one of the few times that he knows he won’t get in trouble for smoking. Phinks can’t even give her a proper ‘thank you’, he doesn’t know what words to say and anything he thinks sounds wrong for this time. He leans into the flame and takes his first inhale to light the cigarette- nicotine enters his system almost immediately but it doesn’t bring the relief that he wishes it did. Instead it only makes him think, a dangerous thing indeed, makes the cigarette taste far more bitter. Death isn’t personal, at least, not until it’s one of your own who is dying.