#bikmui

▸   @bikmui   ⟶   ❛  how do i know you won't stab me in the back? .noodle  ❜   ╱   (  that's valid , accepting .  )

“Because I prefer to shoot people in the front,” Jarod quipped dryly, stony expression betraying no signs of the statement being the joke that it halfway was.  He took a disinterested drag of his cigarette.  “Not trusting me actually makes you one of the smarter people I’ve met of late.”  He was unaffected by people regarding him nervously; he retained self-awareness about how off-putting he could be and how much worse it had gotten since his daughter’s death.

▸   @bikmui   ⟶   ❛  [  FLIRT  ]  *  my muse flirts with your muse. .EHEHEHEHEHEHHEE  ❜   ╱   (  sexual tension , accepting .  )

Simon had spent years snapping up preexisting establishments, but he also used some of his exorbitant wealth to have some built, such as this one, a high-end restaurant carved into the side of a mountain.  Construction had been perilous, and many people died or were assumed dead on account of their falling, even if not all corpses were recovered.  Had the project failed entirely, that would have been fine; Simon still would have gotten what he needed out of it.  But it dragged itself agonizingly over the finish line, and since, he made back his investment and then some.

He was standing in front of one of the massive windows, gazing out at the violet sky while he enjoyed a cocktail and the soft melodies of the hired pianist, who drew long ballads from the grand in the eastern corner of the room.  But he was pulled from his meditations by a gorgeous young thing at his side.  They paid him a compliment, their trailing hungrily up his thin frame, and he beamed giddily at them in return.

Ao Bimei tilted their head as they looked upon the creature - mortal, perhaps? Their scent was a confusing one and as such, they knew not what to make of them. Not that it particularly mattered in their opinion, for they struck a beautiful figure, painted with blood and trembling with what surely must be excitement.

“Oh? If it is more of this,” they gestured towards the blood and the bodies, “which you intend to do, then I have no intention of getting in your way. Indeed, I would ask of you to kindly continue, for you look both terrible and beautiful now and must surely look all the more so in the heat of the game. And how I wish to indulge in that scene indeed.”

All the same, they unsheathed their blade, uncaring if the stranger thought then to attack them for it. It would be a shame to kill them, but they would not mind finding pleasure even in that. And in the aftermath, for they were hardly picky when one had a pretty face.

“Although, I could perhaps join you instead. Beauty deserves to be appreciated rather than locked away, just as you should reveal to all this nature of yours. So glorious it is indeed. And just as the scent of death enhances what innately is yours, so too does it mine.”

Reaching behind them, they flicked their hair from where it lay and smirked.

“I am Ao Bimei, King of the Southern Seas. Although I would not mind it if you called me yours instead.”

“O-oh..” 

There’s a quiet gasp from Pinocchio as they frantically process what misconception was just given. After all, this bloodshed was not their fault! Not at all, they hate killing, they truly do. 

Their hand tugs once again on the chain of that disgusting staff, disgusted with themselves how they find the action comforting. It kept them safe, after all. And yet, the damned, vulgar thing always went quiet when other people were involved! How dare it not tell them how to handle this situation?

“No.. I don’t like...” They trail off and as the last of Ao Bimei’s words finally click in their mind. A king? Certainly a king would be powerful and capable of giving them what they need. Almost forgetting how they are covered in blood, Pino’s face lights up and they rush over with the chains of their staff clinking behind them.

“Great Booble, somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this mornin’,” the Joxter mutters.  Uptight people can be so exhausting sometimes, and he can see that he won’t be getting his apple back without a fight.  It just isn’t worth it, so he waves the issue off, saying, “Never mind, you c’n keep it.  I’ll just pick me another one.”

And with that, he turns and pulls himself up onto a higher branch, both to get closer to the fruit and to get away from the blade.  Not that it is the first time he has been on the pointy end of a blade—that doesn’t actually bother him as much as some people think it should.

Garnet: rough, short session or gentle, long one?

“... I cannot. No really. I cannot choose. Both sounds good. I guess it depends on the mood? But I would rather have be an option.” A pause, humming in thought. “If my partner has only one way of doing it... I guess I would prefer gentle and long sessions. I can live without rough and short, but if I had to deal with only rought and short, I’m... not sure I would like it? To only have that. However, I find appeal in both options, so... Both.”

There’s a palpable silence and hesitation in Lia Ruan’s demeanor when his question is answered in the affirmative. While the stranger before him gave off an aura of something greater, something that made the very depths of his ill-forged cultivation scream in retaliation, he had not expected the person to respond in this way.

Quickly he fans out Fuxing and shields the lower half of his face with the fan, all too embarrassed that his drunken words had wound up drawing the attention of one so beautifully divine. Were he more sober he might have thought to run, or to do something other than stare in silent awe for a moment.

“I- ah. I merely took a guess. You appear mortal and yet...” His words trail for a moment before he takes a breath and blurts out his true opinion on the matter. “No human could be so breathtaking!” 

Truly, he had only meant to flirt a little as he often did when drinking alone. It could sometimes land him a warm bed for the night, or at the very least a lead to another job. Instead he found himself almost shrinking beneath their gaze, feeling not half as bold as when he’d made the initial statement, fanning himself to cool his nerves.

Then he recalled he’d been asked his name as well.

The dragon-man’s reaction is telling enough - how they bite their lip and their voice slightly quivers under the suddenness of Tamamo’s accusation. 

It is not the first time he has seen one with their powers stripped away, and so he had found himself a desperate need to confirm it. Even Tamamo could fall to impulse every so often, especially when he could smell the ill scent of the gods all over it. If someone were inconvenient, they’d get rid of them.

“My mistake, your highness.” The words are soft, and hopefully somewhat soothing. “You see, it would not be the first time I have chanced upon one whose inconvenience or disobedience had left them so... discarded.”

He hangs on that word for a moment, smiling as his eyes glimmer with mischief beneath his mask.