#devildrop

ㅤㅤDice stands there for a moment, the smoke from his cigarette curling into the cold night air, just watching Ramuda. He could feel the tension coming off of him in waves, the fragile little cracks in the facade he usually wore. His chest tightens, his grip on the cigarette tighter than it needs to be as he exhales slowly. Damn it, Ramuda. It was always this way, wasn't it? Dice didn't need to be told—he already knew. He could see it. That fear. That reluctance. All the walls Ramuda built around himself. And here he was, yelling at Dice like he hadn't spent the last few years getting to know him better than anyone else. It stings. But Dice doesn't let it show.

ㅤㅤ"Yeah, I care," Dice mutters again, his voice steady but thick with frustration. His hand moves to the back of his neck, rubbing it with a low growl while his other tosses the cigarette to the ground, grinding it out with his heel. "You're goddamn right I care, Ramuda. SO DON'T tell me you don't want me to care, because I know you. You'd have never thrown your ass on the line for us if you didn't care too!! And you wouldn't even be asking ‘Why?’ if you didn't know what's coming next… You're not fooling me." The tension in the air between them was thick, but Dice wasn't done. He wasn't going to back down now. He had to say this—needed to say this—because if he didn't, they'd keep walking around in circles forever. "You think I don't see it? You think I can't tell when you're just... pretending like everything's fine? Like you don't care? Don't you dare pull that shit with me!"

     ❝     is something the matter?   ❞     perplexed cant of head in bewilderment,     the removal of lollipop from mouth in one swift motion,     lowered     &͟.     seized with the scrunching of nose     &͟.     the momentary furrow of brow.     surely it can’t be this much of an issue,     he had given him prior permission after all.     ❝     i had thought you said this one was for me.     i can give it back to you if you don’t mind the saliva.    ❞     ew.     [  @devildrop   ]     ——     ♡ !    

"Goodness my dear leader. You overestimate how disobedient I can be." Gentaro chuckles, eyes softening with affection as he listens. Ah, truly--the saying "the eyes are a window to the soul" really means something in times like this. Even if Ramuda can't put his true feelings into words, Gentaro can see it loud and clear.

Even in his demands--is it not evidence that Ramuda wishes that deeply for companionship? Perhaps one day, Ramuda will have the courage to ask, but Gentaro finds that he doesn't mind the pestering.

(In the future, Gentaro may certainly be a tad annoyed if he did get woken up, but now? Why would he scorn Ramuda's words of affection?)

"HEYYYyyyYYYYY!" Kisumi shouted across when he spotted a bright pop of color near similar to his own hair. "Oh.. my fUckkkking god." He paused taking in a deep breath. Clearly the shots earlier were beginning to all hit at once. "You're my hair twin!" He announced like it was the best damn news he had heard all month.

||  █ ▌— oh, it’s somewhat remarkable how quickly one can grow used to an unfamiliar place if forced to. terra is a peculiar city, and jakurai’s latent uncertainty quickly gives way to his natural curiosity. he dislikes feeling out of his element, all on his own, but he knows he will be able to make do.

eyes settle on a very familiar individual before too long, though, and he has to wonder how much he can attribute to anything to coincidence rather than fate. that is an unpleasant thought, however, so it’s shaken off quickly. part of him wishes to simply pass by without a word, but that seems both discourteous and somewhat futile. he can see that ramuda amemura has seen him and so he inclines his head as if in greeting.

Housing firmly sets in how permanent this situation was. Normally, this wouldn’t be much of a problem for someone like Composer, but— everything feels quiet here. It’s not really quiet here, but it’s not like the noise of Shibuya that makes you feel alive. Well, at least you’re not stuck here alone...not that he was feeling lonely or anything. Provides him with some noise, at least, some acceptable colors. He can at least act cordial.

Oddly youthful, he thinks, even by human standards it’s hard to place an number to him ( not that he has any place to speak ). But besides that, perhaps he’s imagining things, there’s something about this person that grabs at his attention— even with his dulled senses. And Joshua doesn’t exactly just mean in a trendsetter sort of way, even if he looks like he could pass the part. Not that he can ask, exactly, and it’s a shame that he can’t just probe at his mind like he’d usually do. But humans usually slip up eventually, so maybe he’ll get his answers in time. 

How exciting that prospect seems.