#recordiiem

" is this a little better, caelus t. 'protagonist' railblazer ? " 😊😊

"Plenty. Look at the more improved strokes on my figuuuuuure---- AH!?"

COUGH HACKS

"WAIT, WHY THE HELL AM I CHOKIN' YA WHILE YOU LOOK ALL CONTENT WITH THAT!? Isn't this the road to some kinky misunderstandings we'd be having en masse down the line here?!"

Look he doesn't just go and do that to anyone out here! (Then again, the only folks he really choked out were his enemies. Different circumstance!)

"Do all of your drawings somehow have kinks applied to 'em!? Is that your concept?!"

...to everyone waiting for other replies and has seen nothing but Kirito lately --- you can blame @recordiiem because Max has been single handedly pushing my Kirito further and further in my brain each day. Really, I haven't had this much fun writing him since...jeez, 2015 when he was my main muse.

the contrast between the two is undeniable. almost everything differs: from garments to palettes, from small quirks to the very roles they play. yet, beneath the new varnish, she sees no difference at all. a masked fool’s core is ever the same, unpredictable and capricious. they may shed personas as an actor sheds costumes, gaining and discarding lives even within the span of a single night, but their marrow does not change. wherever they tread, the chaos she so despises follows faithfully.

lacrima does play along, even if for a brief moment. she hums, lids lowering as though she weighs her words with solemn care, granting sparkle the illusion that her inquiry deserves contemplation. her expression flattens, black lips pressing into a thin, decisive line before she answers.

:^)

The Beauty In Elation. @recordiiem

His skin crawls; he hadn't expected to run into one so soon, and if it wasn't for his own gift, he'd be just as blindsided as so many other companions. Even having shed his armor, he feels weak without it, like a lion stripped of its mane, like a snake without its fangs, a predator without its claws and fangs left to try and navigate through a burning forest where those very claws were needed to climb out of the scorching haze that threatens to consume him entirely. The captive audience witnessing a comedy show blends into something uncanny as the hidden aspects of paranoia and horror slither along its edges. That which only a trained or skeptical eye would pick up on.

Circled like a bleeding lamb surrounded by a pack of wolves, his fingers twitch at his sides, the urge to summon his chosen weapon is intense, to bring even a sense of security amongst the turbulent sea that was set to swallow him beneath it's crashing waves and drag him further into the depths. The sense of wrong and right is blurred far too much; even his own resolute mind is reeling, whereas others simply let themselves loose. In the fools playground, they hold more sway than him, if he didn't choose his steps carefully, they would pick and prod. Yet, perhaps that is exactly what she wants; he will let her have a glimpse of the fangs that lie beneath, but not the truth.

"Were you a Jester, I would feel sorry for the Lord that took you in."

Should one understand that, he will gift her a small amount of his amusement. It wasn't often that others could unveil his words, the way he spoke truly compared to the eccentric movements to continue with the deceit. Thank Idrila that there were flaws in beauty, which in turn made it even more beautiful. Nonetheless, he dares not move; giving up ground to her would be a silent admission of defeat in and of itself, as he exhales instead, a drawn note.

"I have experienced these tricks far too often. I'm afraid that I find no enjoyment nor entertainment in the aspect of falsehood." A momentary desire to be a pest, to be crude, is shoved down instead as he gives a thoughtful hum. "I would be more entertained if you were true to yourself."