❛ self-embodiment of perfection.

eyes glimmering with thinly veiled amusement, his tight-lipped smile cuts up to mahito’s face. is that fear he spots? how odd. sentience in curses is hardly common, but mahito takes his ill-conceived sensibilities to new heights.

his smile widens. emotions, hm?

“i couldn’t help myself. you’re quite unique, mahito-kun,” he replies after a moment of deliberation, mild as milk, dark lashes dipping as he admires the other’s fair features. unique in a way that piques getwo’s vast intellect, that prompts him to quench his thirst for knowledge, that wills him to prod, prod, prod.

but alas, they’re bound by conventions such as “friendship” and “trust”. a shame, really.

gingerly, he goes as far as to move the other’s head, turning him this and that way under his watchful gaze, purely for his own entertainment this time.

“self-awareness is a curse, isn’t it? if only you had remained blissfully ignorant.”

    THOUGH HIS SMILE LINGERS,  mahito continues to feel some semblance of unease. he berates himself for it  /  hates the part of himself that resembles that which makes humanity so pitiful. despite it all, that same word:  notion, taunts him. geto might be unpredictable, but ultimately it’s ...  ‘ interesting. ’    they think, expression mostly unchanging save for the quirk of their brow.

    of course, it’s simply fact that mahito is fairly unique. he prides himself on his ability to learn and adapt infinitely faster than lesser curses. that said ...  he is also quite aware that as of late, sentient curses aren’t so much a rarity as they once were.  (  exciting  &  disappointing, both. to be validated in such a way ...  )  it’s curious.

    “ hmm, ”  they hum, eyeing geto with a relatively incomprehensible look on their face. though his words are weighted;  give rise to several thoughts, many of which agree that geto has perhaps come  to know him too well,  mahito can’t focus.  ‘ am i being toyed with ? ’  they consider, and the possibility in turn elicits a conflicting sort of curiosity. they show no resistance to the movement, all the same.

- — ⟨ @soulbent ⟩ — -

     his options are limited; he knows this all too well. it’s still only five o’clock, and over time starts at six. Ijichi was made aware of the situation eight minutes ago. this means six or seven minutes ago the school higher-ups were made aware of the situation. and if he’s calculated correctly… he only needs to stall for ten—maybe fifteen—minutes before he has sufficient backup. 

at least he hopes that he’ll have back up by then. if not… then plan b it is.

❛ What ever you and those other unregistered special grades are up to… you’re going to fail. ❜

    THEY WATCH, QUIET.  curious, as they evaluate the situation. as well as this sorcerer maintains his composure compared to the vast majority, he doesn’t maintain it quite well enough.  (  not that they’re unimpressed;  mahito takes great pride in his ability to read  &  manipulate humans.  )  it’s plain to see that nanami is weighing his options, and not entirely confident in his own ability to take mahito down.

    ‘ if his friends show up, this could get a little tricky ... ’  they muse, dead-eyed stare lingering on the other from a reasonable distance. stepping forward once, then twice, mahito lifts his hands. palms upturned  /  head cocked slightly to the side, they shrug. smile wide and undeterred by the other’s threat, he laughs.

chaotically evil.

you do what you want, when you want, and without regard for the law. you keep yourself out of jail by keeping everyone around you off-balance. no one knows what you want, truly, or what you plan to do with all this power you've accumulated. your crimes range from  " harmless "  pranks to murder. anything for a good laugh, huh ?  you refuse to let anyone kill you, so you plan out your own disappearance. its a great spectacle - tickets are $10 dollars per person. some people speculate that you've died, but most know the truth. they all saw you escape through the back door.

    “ hmm ? ”  they hum, seeming unfazed by the sorcerer’s prodding.  there’s something exhilarating;  morbidly fascinating  about knowing that any moment he could be struck down or killed. it’s curious that despite his power, satoru gojo chooses to act in an infantile way  /  to taunt and irritate friend  &  foe alike. in that regard, mahito acknowledges they are similar. in most every other way, however ...

    they are nothing alike.  no matter what role they choose to play, or how they interact with those around them, they live in two separate worlds. right now, the cursed spirit yearns for those two to become one.  (  for a world cleansed of disease;  for a world where humans can no longer poison that which they touch, and feign ignorance.  )  through his grin, mahito exudes something feral.

    “ hey, ”  they begin, lifting a hand. although their fingers give the illusion of curling about the sorcerer’s shoulder —   in truth   —  they don’t so much as graze his jacket. mahito had not expected anything different;  he only wishes to convey a gesture. with the slight cant of their head, they continue,  “ i’m curious, what does your soul look like ?  it’s a shame i can’t see it, but no matter ... ”