#frostbounddevotion

For Loux

9,10,11, 12 and I think 16

But if I had to choose 1, it would be 11... I think. It's the question about rituals they use to calm themselves from violence.

How often do they find themselves fighting others?

the man is always down for a fight. i think he actually probably gets into a lot of them, if his history at the packhouse in salem's crossing is anything to go by. he comes across as playful and easygoing, and honestly he is for the most part, but he loves to fight and cause problems and piss people off. the problem with him is, unless there are established conditions (re: rules (and he won't go out of his way to establish any)), he will not be a good sport about it. he'll play dirty and to the death. i guess that doesn't really answer the question, but it happens often enough when he's out "working" for it to be a completely normal thing to him.

Is there a line they will not cross when it comes to violence/insults?

no. well yes, but mostly no. there are some select few things he finds morally reprehensible and thus won't do (like sexual assault). but he's not above a lot of things, and having grown up in some of the worst conditions and as effectively a gang member, he's just...used to it. it is what it is, some of it is necessary and some of it is overkill, either someone's getting killed and it's not going to be him. do you know what i mean? like he's killed whole families before.

Do they try and justify their actions? How?

i answered this one here!

Do they have rituals or other motions they go through to calm themselves following violence?

no, he's very 0-100 real fast under most conditions. once he's pushed, he leans into it and goes wild. think of a wildfire. my best example for this is here, in the drabble i wrote (warning for a few things, namely violence and contradictions cos he's a teen there), although he sort of instigated a good portion of that. the point is, he'll set the whole block on fire, hell he'll even explode. he'll cook you from the inside out. he will just keep going until he burns out. he will not calm down until whatever's in his way isn't there anymore. but it's not like he gets to a point where he's irrational or anxious or can't be reasoned with - it's not really like that. i'm not sure how to explain it but he's conscious of everything he does and actively chooses how to proceed in a given situation, even when he's at a clear disadvantage. does that make sense?

Do they have any sort of visceral reaction to violence?

Afternoon ritual of both brewing and consuming perfectly steeped tea while, a moment reserved strictly for himself, was shattered by chilling company. Quiet they may have been .. frankly, the most quiet living thing Getou Suguru ever encountered, yet the bubble of solitude was shattered nonetheless. Steam curling upwards from the tea caused condensation to bead on the tip of the man's nose. Welcomed warmth during the chill of winter. However with Uraume's @frostbounddevotion presence, punctuated with a curt bow, he drew the heavy sleeve of his gojogesa across the tip of nose to make him more presentable.

An amalgamation of emotion. What was truth? What was falsehood? A liar's grin did not touch lips, yet appearance was far from pleasant. Face remained a blank piece of canvas, holding the apathy of cold stone, however sugilite eyes rivaled the heat of a viper's gaze. Accidentally? When did Uraume ever do something unplanned and grossly careless? The air carried a stench, akin to that which followed the presence of filthy non-sorcerers. Imperturbed expression finally ruptured into wrinkles of displeasure as Suguru drew himself upwards from the tatami mat; a mocking sigh quickly followed suit.

── ❛ My, my. How careless of you. I hope you offered an apology. Now, we must remedy this promptly. ❜

Cont. [x] // @frostbounddevotion

Confidence plays on full, glistening shell-pink lips in a self-satisfied smirk, the edges lifting up to well-defined cheeks. Maybe the best music to his ears isn’t the one that will be blasting from the speakers but the compliments directed at him. And here he thought they’d squabble over his mocking remark. His charm and looks, huh? If he’s able to arouse some type of admiration then he would use it gleefully.

“You flatter me. What would Sukuna feel if he knew of that, hm? Not that he has any feelings.” He extends his hands out, palms upward, and shrugs.

 “Y’know, for a second there it almost sounded like you were flirting with me to get on my good side.” Raising his index digit he playfully wiggles it with a curving trajectory at Uraume.

✉ @frostbounddevotion said: "Happy birthday, Master Geto. Please, take this token of appreciation. A labyrinth brain teaser box. And your very own calligraphy set. Crafted by the finest traditional brush and ink block artists. Enjoy."

It's something of a shock that Uraume bothered to remember his birthday in the first place, much less that they'd gone as far as to actually buy him a few gifts - but it's a pleasant surprise. Even more surprising is the fact that they actually had a pretty good idea of the kind of things he'd enjoy - did Mimiko and Nanako tell them about his interest in calligraphy, or had they figured that out on their own? He wonders... He accepts the gifts gratefully, giving them a polite - but genuine - smile.

Narrowed eyes glance down at snowy locks, precision cut and not a strand out of place. It was the kind of visual and behavioral perfection he knew Uraume had developed with a specific brand of concentration that came from mastering one specific idiosyncratic task until you knew it well enough to practice it blind.

They had suffered Sukuna's annoyance, petulance, wrath, and boredom in different times and stages- Learning from each instance of vocalized or physically expressed displeasure. They had earned their coveted place at his feet, yet also challenged him in ways he never once thought he would willingly tolerate. It was amusing, as much as it was unexpected.

The King of Curses' lips purse around the mouth of his kiseru pipe, eyelids falling to half-mast on the first slow drag.

"You would waste my time with such trivialities?" he asks, reaching forward to roughly grasp Uraume's chin between his clawed fingers. His grip is punishing, long nails digging into bony landmarks of the jawline and the slanted angle of a high cheekbone.

Sukuna exhales a cloud of blueish smoke into their face dispassionately, long snaking wisps still trailing slowly towards the ceiling as he cocked his head to one side.

"Creatures like you exist for little purpose than to provide me with entertainment- Whether it comes from your death, or otherwise. Is the fact that I allow you to serve at my feet not reason enough to rejoice? Have I expressed such consummate satisfaction in the undertaking of your duties, you have a surfeit of time to pose foolish and wearisome questions?"

A cruel knife's edge of a smirk twists his features.

❛ Uraume . . . ❜ the tone of this king seems quite unbothered to one who did not know him , but for them ⸻ for them , it should simply ring a bell or two in that cranium of theirs. this tone of ease form through lips that curled and smirked , postulated in such manner that blunted teeth in this vessels gums were bared in a manner befitting an animal.

he repeated that name once more , before he deigned to come to his feet before them. ❛ a distraction , am I ? what a burden I must be to you after all these centuries of yours. ❜ that i so mercifully granted despite my pension for sparing no man nor thing , left in the gaps of his speech. smoldering red gaze unblinking , wide lidded , burning piercing stare through his attendant.

The smell of a sorcerer's death and that of a degenerate non-sorcerer was decipherable, so he would have himself and anyone believe. He did not revel in the death of his own kind, yet in a fight between curses born from humans and those who sacrifice their lives, the shedding of blood was inevitable. Even by Getō Suguru's own hand, misaligned sorcerers who dared become an obstacle in his life's endeavors required felling. Given the option, of course, the death of a million non-sorcerer trash was favourable over the death of a sorcerer, jujutsu aligned or otherwise. Standing in the heart of Harajuku, Shibuya, Roppongi — he could not help but to let mind wander, musing in how easy it would be to unleash a horde of curses to dismember and slaughter.

It was laughable really. Even a laugh as clear as gentle rain sounded man in a crowd of hundreds. Filthy things. They stared and judged, and Suguru had to quiet his sadistic amusement. Well, his wish to unleash a basic level of purgatory was granted. The gods smiled down on him. With ear to the ground and finger on the pulse of cursed activity in the entirety of Japan, tremors of activity caught the initial attention of Miguel and information was subsequently bestowed to Suguru. The spike in cursed activity was certainly enough to draw the attention of jujutsu sorcerers despite the abysmal mortality rate, but Suguru knew best — politics dominated saving lives.

He dispatched a low level curse for surveillance as he studied weather maps surrounding the tiny village. Temperatures had not been predicted to drop below freezing, yet the sole entrance of the village was overgrown with sheets of ice. Upon the return of the lepidoptera appearing curse, the buzzing creature confirmed unusual happenings in the remote village. It was then he remember the monumental amount of letters he received; all handwritten, naturally. Villagers who had heard of Suguru's blessed gifts wrote by the tens asking for help and offering whatever meager amounts they would harvest come spring and summer. The letters had been either disposed of and ignored.

Entirely forgotten until that very moment. How interesting. The man donned clothing more fitting for a winter excursion and took the skies on his manta ray appearing curse. The trip was cold but not unpleasant. A man with his thoughts. Dark, dark thoughts, as well as his hopes. Using the vantage point of the sky, Suguru circled the entire village for about twenty minutes. Villagers were not attending to their menial activities as expected, the ice which had blocked the village was already melting, and, more importantly, cries of anger pitched louder than that of ravens. Memories of his own youth entered his mind.

Memories of the fateful day he found his daughters entered his mind. What were the vile monkeys up to? Cursed energy shot forth like a beacon of blue light, but it was undoubtly strange for common humans to be gathered around the source, alive no less. More low level curses were summoned on the outskirts, serving as alarm drones should anything interrupt his investigations. A star falling. Suguru plummeted as the rush of wind forced his eyes shut. Few metres before touching ground, the onyx haired man performed a backflip just before the ray curse disintegrated back into his arsenal. He landed with the seamlessness of a feline behind the mob of humans ... and watched.

There was no child at the centre of the hate nor a curse as the letters hinted at nor even a familiar curse user. They @frostbounddevotion were something else entirely; a hidden power easily ( though only foolishly ) overlooked. It irked Suguru like being afflicted with a painful ailment to set idle as the humans shouted and frothed like rabid beasts. Digits of his right hand moved to press against his forehead to alleviate the early signs of a migraine. He waited and waited, then drew his breath and readied himself to draw a particularly blood thirsty curse which resembled a human fetus when — the chill of winter bloomed crystals of ice on his onyx eyelashes. A sudden explosion of death and destruction.

Suguru leaped upwards in time to avoid the explosion of icicles were decimated both man and ground with the sound of shattering glass. All at once the rabid screams were over, and the sight before him resembled the beauty captured in snowglobes. Only this was a real life snowglobe. Beautiful. Geta landed with care on the sheets of ice as hues twinkling with amusement beheld the lithe form of the curse user. One hand was shoved in the pocket of his plush white jacket while the other waved in the air with gesticulation fanfare which matched his tone of voice.

── ❛ And here I was hoping to exterminate them. Ah, you've done well though. This way my residuals will not make a mess. ❜

There was no powerful curse to acquire unfortunately, however he could not ignore the potential of gaining another ally. Such a technique was equally beautiful as it was rare. A smile stretched Suguru's lips, and the brightness of it caused eyes to shut and crinkle with delight. Geta were not made to traverse through such sleek ice, instead the ray curse was summoned once more to have him float in a casual manner.

@frostbounddevotion

The silence after that was almost excruciatingly awkward, on purpose. Cerulean irises are staring them dead in the eye, adding to the suspense. Gojo knows exactly what to say to that in response immediately, however, building a bit of tension for a couple of seconds is the necessary prequel to the sequence of things.

The edge of his lips rises like a check mark— smug yet as reserved as he can make it be.