#*ic*

At first, Lasafam seemed like he was going to state something.. Quite rude; but shook his head. “No way am I dressing like that abusive fucker. Even then, he’d have my skin for doing that, therefore who’d be left to protect the others?”

Giving a large, toothy grin, Jianshi carefully took the gecko. “Oh my, thank you. What a lovely gift, truly wonderful indeed!.” Giving Kiku a small pat on the head, she then put the gecko on her shoulder. “I promise to take care of it, it’d be a shame to see it pass. Don’t you think? Though I’d make a tasty snack for me~!” Quietly snickering, she pursed her lips into a thin smirk before covering her mouth, making the laughter hushed.

Lasafam tilted his head. Trying to think of his opinions on any other of the Gods and Devils he’s either met (barely) or seen. A sigh of surrender escaping him. “I’ll be honest, I only really know Fumass, and his brother. Both who, to me, are despicable pricks.” Was his reply. “Though I do recall oh-so-briefly seeing some weird guy, blonde, glasses… Glowing cape I think. Too gaudy for my liking. He also seemed pretty narcissistic.. Then again that was just from seeing him so….” He shrugged.

In the distance, Lasafam can be heard screaming. Welp, looks like he’s clearly poor at handling petnames. For whatever reason.

Lasafam paused. Shaking his head quickly and adjusting his scarf, to at least hide the scarlet hue that now coloured his pale cheeks. “That’s the third time now! What’s with that fucking petname?!” The sniper hissed, despite his voice being muffled by the cloth of the scarf.

“You know you really don’t need to cling on to me like that.” He stated, tilting his head as he looked down at Egmont. Yes, he may have sounded a tad harsh, but he usually was seen as a ‘brat’ by others. Though he prefferred to describe himself as a 'sarcastic asshole.’

Lasafam was much too preoccupied with wiping blood away from his mouth. The dark crimson staining his pale skin, and light top attire. Noticing someone he could hardly discern not too far off. “What? Never seen an injured angel before?” He spat. Despite that harsh tone causing a notable coughing fit from the sniper. Soft wheezes escaping him, more blood trailing from his lips. Probably had a punctured lung, if not more internal wounds. While the external were just as bloody. Yet he still gave nary a care.