#bl34k

[ ~ And, of course, another reply for bl34k ~ /flips table] "No, it's.. Only me. I make them all myself." He replied to the former question, honestly, leaving the latter for a moment whilst trying to come up with an appropriate response. The actual tale of how he got into such a strange practice couldn't be told; Ghoul's have to keep their identities hidden whilst performing certain tasks, otherwise humans– namely the CCG, a vast collection of investigators centred around prosecuting his species –would note their appearances and hunt them down, so masks were crucial for those that wanted to live a 'normal' life when they weren't busy, uh, gathering food. Many years ago now, Uta had revelled in the chance to make such obscuring beauties – Creating things was always a hobby anyway, but suddenly it had a true purpose. Protecting his comrades, his subordinates; He had been a leader, after all.. But that was a story for another time. Anyway, this guy was probably the one who started the mask-wearing trend in their macabre society, and now there was barely a ghoul alive who didn't own one. So..How was he supposed to put that into words an oblivious human would understand? "That's like asking a painter why he paints, or why a musician makes music – It's just who they are, and what they do." Explaining this type of thing may have been a challenge, but the mere fact that someone was interested enough to ask.. Was strangely pleasing. So, he didn't mind. It was something to do, at least. "A while ago.. I was a member of this group. More like a club, really." He was obviously trying to make such a suspicious thing sound as normal as possible. "And, being the creative type, I had the bright idea of making each member of this 'club' a mask. They turned out to be popular among those I gave them to, and voila, I decided I wanted to continue." Simple, and it was basically the truth. Sort of. It just lacked all the disturbing points and bloodshed... "Didn't I tell you not to look through my stuff?" He folded his arms, and..How long had he been standing at the side of the room..? This guy was ridiculously good at entering places without being noticed. He eyed Choc disapprovingly, although it certainly could've been worse. The reason he'd wanted the kid to refrain from prying, in the first place, was because there was incriminating things back here. A jar of eyes in the cupboard would've been difficult to explain. Although, a few sketches seemed easy in comparison, so he couldn't be too mad.

[ ~ Yet another reply for bl34k ~ ] "Mm. Both. It's not very 'homey', but I have a habit of falling asleep whilst working, so why pay the extra money for an apartment I'll never use?" He didn't sound too far away, as there was no need for hollering, but the older male was definitely in a different room. "If I take a nap whilst making a mask, then, when I wake up, I can just pick right back up where I left off." And suddenly there was no doubt as to what created all this bespoke headwear. "It's easier." He concluded, although that was another reason he needed a bell on the door; Being woken up by a customer wasn't exactly preferable, especially if they were a ghoul, but luckily Uta had built up a bit of a 'reputation' by now, so no one– of his species, at least –would get too annoyed. If they knew what was good for them, that is. He was currently in a stupidly cramped space, attempting to reset the circuit breaker. ..Basically, trying to hit switches in the back of a closet. What a pain. He, personally, could've probably dealt with having no power on for the remainder of the evening, and just fixed it when the morning arrived. But, like the saint he was, Uta would get it done now in order to please his guest. Why? God knows. Maybe he just didn't want to hear any more complaining. "Let there be light." Said the ghoul, in the most anticlimactic way possible. He'd finally clambered through enough junk to reach what needed to be reached, and with a flick, the electric was back on. A few blinking bulbs and one hell of an eye-adjustment later, and everything was finally..Slightly less creepy. A desk covered in sewing needles, threads and innumerable different materials, as well as a half-made mask. A few mysterious cupboards, units, spare mannequins and some interesting decor. A small cooler and a place to store food; ..Something that should never be investigated by a human. Random objects, headphones, paper scattered everywhere– drawings and paintings on the majority, including mask designs –beads, buttons, leather, a few clothes left around. This was definitely an artist's dwelling, yet still he was correct.. It didn't look like someone could live there. It didn't feel right.

[ ~ RP reply for bl34k because Tumblr is being a douche. ~ ] Ah. Well, this was a..Dilemma. Considering that Uta was as blunt with his actions as he was with his words, and could be described as almost annoyingly confident – The type that could hardly ever be denied, too. So it didn't take much for him to simply grab the human's hand. Gently, of course; Cold as it may have been, his skin was soft for someone who worked in this form of creative trade. His long and slender fingers wrapped around the boy's own gloved hand and started pulling him in the direction they needed to go. "Mhm. Follow me." It was extremely likely that the older male had indeed noticed the younger's hesitation, and simply ignored it. Which could be perceived as a bit cruel... But the guy was a ghoul, after all. He could probably eat the kid alive if he so chose, and that reeeaaally wasn't a figure of speech. In retrospect, he was, in fact, being a saint. ..For now. Not that Choc would realize that, unfortunately. "Arigatō, Cute-Rat." He sounded at least a little thankful for the offer, and a pet name had to be a good sign, right? "But no, your help won't be necessary," Uta walked considerately slow, for the dripping stranger's benefit. Though, any attempt Choc may have made to escape this male's hold on him would've been in vain – Presumably in order to preserve the safety of his masks, stands, and practically anything breakable within the room. He was not letting go. Their destination wasn't too far, thankfully, and once they were in the 'all clear' for slippery surfaces, things were a lot easier. "I'll let you owe me." And there was the final addition to that statement. Foreboding as ever. He, at last, tugged the boy through the aforementioned open doorway, and into the back room. It was somehow even darker in here, so who knows what adorned the area. The outlines of a few cupboards, possible desks and chairs were just about visible, but that was basically it. This couldn't end badly at all.

[ ~ Starter for bl34k ~ ] Uta found himself haphazardly leaning back in his chair, situated next to one of the desks in a private room at the rear end of the store. He stared up at the ceiling with a solemn expression, the scissors he had been using still dangling from his grasp – The male was working on a mask, or, at least, had been for numerous hours now. He just couldn't seem to find the right inspiration. ..Or maybe he was just hungry? He considered the possibility with a quiet 'Hm' before sitting upright, vibrant eyes scanning his work area. The term 'private room' could be used loosely, since the door to it was wide open; He noted that fact, before placing the scissors down-- The tattooed adult froze in place, listening closely. Had someone just walked inside the store? Why hadn't he put some sort of bell on the entrance yet? He pondered, brows furrowing slightly in concentration. Aha – Idea! He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of his surroundings.. There was definitely someone else in here, and they certainly weren't another ghoul. Uta pursed his lips a little. Could he pass his eyes' current red and black colouring off as contact lenses? He doubted it, but it'd been a while since he'd last reverted his frightening orbs back to a more 'normal' state. Human customers were far from frequent. In fact, all customers were lacking lately. It had been a quiet week. He blinked, in a prolonged and somewhat harsh manner. The black of his eyes faded into a more natural white, and his irises dissolved into a pale green colour. Who knew how long they'd stay like that, though; He was unpracticed. Well, as long as his 'guest' refrained from cutting their limbs off, or bleeding in general, he deemed himself fit to greet them.

Imagine the Once-ler strapped into a chair while his mother sings on repeat 'Mother Knows Best'