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[bolderfell]

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Therion ⬤ OCTOPATH TRAVELER
residential district ⬤ Lunatia, Level 2
moonblessing ⬤ Cordis

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Comments

[bolderfell]

Yeah, but only because they don't put me on the menu.

I actually mind it less when it's Cordis. The rest of the month I have to wear a stupid headband with fake ears.

[roseblooms]

I'd find it compelling advertising, if you were on the menu.

Your uniform includes fake cat ears?

[bolderfell]

If I say yes, would you find THAT compelling advertising?

Though yeah, it does, except when I have my own. Boss isn't cruel enough to make me look four cat ears' worth of stupid.

[roseblooms]

Not particularly. I like you as a cat, but I've never been particularly fond of cheap imitations when I've already had the real thing.

Have you considered asking to have the policy changed?

[bolderfell]

Not really. That actually a thing people do when they work for someone else?

[roseblooms]

Some places value that sort of contribution. Others don't.

I suppose I don't really know what sort yours is.

[bolderfell]

...It's a nice place, honestly. If I said the ears were that much of a nuisance, I could probably get out of wearing them. But it doesn't seem to bother anyone else.

Sometimes it feels like it's all kids working there. I realized the other day I'm the oldest one actually on staff, including the owner. Call me soft, but... doesn't hurt me to let them have their fun.

Really makes me feel my white hairs thinking like that, though.

[roseblooms]

For what it's worth, I understand the feeling. Everyone I know is several centuries my junior, to a certain degree. And I stay with them because I like to be among them, even if I'm always a little conscious of that particular disparity between us.

[bolderfell]

Do most demons live as long as you?

[roseblooms]

Only the powerful ones. Age-related deterioration isn't really a concern, so the most common cause of death among demons is an altercation with another demon.

To be very old implies that you've survived everything that tried to kill you along the way.

[bolderfell]

Sounds kind of lonely.

Either you always have to watch your back or hang around with those who can't know what you've been through.

[roseblooms]

And sooner or later you catch the notice of the wrong person, and then the hunters come for you.

[bolderfell]

[...]

Any idea how it'll be for you now that your soul's merged into a human body? Will you get old like we do, creaky bones and all?

[roseblooms]

Well, there's a good chance half my lifespan is gone from using the Forlorn Hope — whatever span that would've been. And I do age and grow, like anyone else. But I suspect that once I hit my peak of maturation, the point when I'm in my most optimal physical condition, my power will have me simply hold there, indefinitely.

So yes, I'll watch most everyone I know and care about die, sooner or later.

[bolderfell]

[This is why Therion hates words. None of them are right, not for this--and saying nothing, when all he is right now is words on a horrible little crystal rectangle, would just sharpen what feels like the bleakest isolation. If he were there in person, he could mark the gravity with his silence, his continued presence. Instead, he's pecking at letters between customers while the damn rich kid works the 'cash' 'register,' and Kurama is who-knows-where with his friend turned to stone, with or without the partner he watched over so diligently not two weeks ago.

So he doesn't like how long his answer takes to form, but he's glad something does, eventually. Just to show he's still there.]

Guess I've been thinking about what it means to stay in one place for a while. Physically or more figuratively, like with the people you choose to keep. Not so easy, is it.

[roseblooms]

No. Isolation is always easier; when a situation becomes untenable or inconvenient, you simply leave. You have yourself, which means you have everything you need no matter where you go. Carry everything important with you. Your circumstances are satisfactory until they're not, and then they're disposable, no different than discarding a bit of food that's spoiled after sitting out too long.

Staying robs you of that freedom. It chains you to those circumstances even when they sour, and you're forced to contend with them rather than the much simpler solution of simply leaving them behind.

But those chains are a Fool's Bangle, I think. There's nothing stopping you from freeing yourself from them, really, but you still don't. Perhaps you didn't put them there yourself, but you're the one keeping them on.

[bolderfell]

Still haven't told me if you need anything, you know.

[roseblooms]

Stop by. When you're off work.

[bolderfell]

See you then.

[When Therion knocks later, he's wearing a light, new-smelling hoodie over his distinctive hair and carrying a shopping bag from Caihong.]

[roseblooms]

[why u fuck him over on his sushi tho??]

Therion.

[He knows it's him before he even opens the door — thank you, astonishing sense of smell — and it's because he knows it's Therion that he's not really thinking about appearances as he lets the door swing wide to admit him. For a different visitor, maybe, he would've been more careful, but as it is —

As it is, Kurama looks like he's been put through a wringer. His clothes are far more haphazard than usual, just a pair of trackpants and a big soft shirt, and his hair has been shucked up into a high messy ponytail that mostly leaves the ends dangling about to the base of his neck, pulled up out of the way more for convenience than for appearances. There are the beginnings of dark circles under his eyes, and his pallor is drawn.

It's hard to say which part of the experience is affecting him most, but given what happened to his mother, having no avenue whatsoever to un-rock Kuwabara is probably dredging up some old and painful memories.]

...Come in, sit down. Make yourself comfortable.

[bolderfell]

[Therion nods, but instead of immediately moving to do that--which always involves assuring himself of exits and hiding spots long before sitting--he first offers Kurama the bag.]

Got that stuff you like.

[Inarizushi. He had to get it from Caihong and not go all the way to Amegahara so he could be here sooner, of course. As he draws down his hood, it's clear from the smell of cats that aren't him that he went straight there, then straight here, from his job. Still, Mondo Mart inarizushi is still inarizushi, and he brought a box of tea and a couple beers besides.

(There's even a book in there. Probably stolen--it's dropped in on top as an afterthought, smells like someone else's hand. It's titled My Moonblessed and, according to the blurb, chronicles the Lunatian Academy days of a young woman with long ebony black hair (that’s how she got her name) with purple streaks and red tips that reaches her mid-back and icy blue eyes like limpid tears.)

He does his due diligence, then, but cursorily. Just a glance and he takes his seat, tail curling neatly around his crossed legs.]

C'mere.

[roseblooms]

...You remembered what I like.

[It's not an expression of surprise, or of disbelief. The words escape him in a way that sounds almost breathless, the way people should when they recognize a kindness but don't altogether support that they deserve the consideration.

He takes the bag, however, and steals a moment just to smell the homey aroma of its contents. There are so many little understated tells to savor — that Therion remembered what he liked even if he probably still can't pronounce it; that he went straight from work without pause in order to retrieve it for him; that there are enough drinks for the both of them to spend a while together, as if to implicitly confirm that Therion has no intention of leaving right now.

There's a more deliberate one, too — that Therion says come here, inviting him close when he knows how Therion covets the feeling of distance.]

That was nice of you.

[He says, with words that mean nothing, while his legs do all the talking and take him over to stand in front of Therion, like he's daring him to pull him down for more.]

[bolderfell]

[Hff.]

Yeah, I'm thoughtful like that.

[He waits, and when he recognizes that Kurama doesn't intend to sit down right away, he huffs quietly again before reaching for his wrist to draw him down beside him.]

I want to fix your hair up differently. You're going to give yourself a headache with it pulled up like that.

[The can I? remains implicit.]

[roseblooms]

[It's small and stupid, but it makes him feel a little better anyway — one thing he doesn't have to expend energy and focus controlling. One time he'll follow instead of setting his own course. Let Therion guide him to sit; he's tired of doing the guiding for right now.

So he sits, and makes sure to crowd entirely too close into Therion's personal space, just to see if he can get away with it.]

Everything else is giving me a headache as it is. What's one thing more?

[But he turns his head anyway, offering the messy ponytail up to Therion's clever fingers without protest.]

[bolderfell]

[Maybe he can get away with more than that, for far from commenting on the closeness, Therion unfolds one leg and scoots in. All the better to nimbly work the elastic out of Kurama's hair and shake it out loose and down, right?]

Well, what's one thing less.

[Therion takes a moment to play with the hair tie around his fingers, to get the measure of its stretch and its strength. Modern convenience, man. Then he nods to himself, loops the band around his forefinger and thumb, and sweeps as much of Kurama's hair as he can back towards him. He runs his fingers through at the top to make sure his scalp can properly relax from all that pulling, and then works more loosely on his way down, breaking up the dent made by the hair tie.

Then he separates Kurama's hair into four sections and starts to braid.]

Make my own rope like this, sometimes.