[The bar is a lonely place this late at night. Where Nishi came from, the bars were packed at all hours, but it seems the temporary residents of this foresaken tower care more about getting their beauty sleep. Not Nishi. Tonight, he doubts he'll get a single wink of sleep.
By the time Fandaniel walks in, he's slumped over at the bar, the stem of a wine glass held between limp fingers. Hearing someone walk in doesn't warrant a response on its own, but then...
...His instincts urge him upright, turning to see that his visitor is Fandaniel. Oh. Nishi smiles and cheers to him.]
What an unpleasant surprise! A wonderful way to cap off the night. Your comedic timing precedes you.
[Being shit-faced drunk doesn't do much to dull Nishi's tongue. On the contrary, it sharpens it.]
[ And here Fananiel is merely returning the bottles of wine that Moonstone did not drink. Sadly, he only partook a reasonable amount, rather than getting piss drunk like some people, it would seem. ]
Oh, Nishi. Drinking alone? Are you so mired in despair to fall to such a depth?
[ Glass clinks as he sets the bottles down on the bar, specifically out of Nishi's immediate reach, though he does indeed join him there, even if he won't take a seat just yet. ]
[Joke's on you, pretty boy. You can't fall any lower than rock bottom... but that leads him neatly to his next point.]
And here comes the devil himself, down to taunt me. Tell me, have you ever considered wearing white? That sort of gaudy, vulgar color would suit you. Besides...
[Nishi straightens, grip tightening on the delicate stem of his glass. With no hesitation, he tips it over, spilling red wine in a smooth arc across Fandaniel's head, christening him in crimson.]
[ Ah, there goes his shirt. Whatever shall he wear tomorrow if not his teacher outfit? Oh dear, oh my. While it wasn't all white, the shirt under his vest had been white, and that soaks up so much of the wine, marring it with deep red. ]
... [ Well. He reaches up with a gloved hand and wipes some of the wine dripping down his face, and he slowly licks it off. Hmm. Not a bad vintage, but when is anything in this place bad? The food and drink always seem to be divine. ] Such a waste of wine, good sir. I dare say you've had enough.
[Ah, good answer, Fandaniel. He'd look better lapping wine off the floor than he would be licking it off his lips, but Nishi won't be choosy. His hand darts out before Fandaniel can stop him, snatching a half-full bottle right off the table. It's not hard to imagine breaking a bone or two in that smug little face should he choose to swing at it with this thing.]
Maybe you're right. Maybe I've had enough.
[He tilts the bottle lazily in one hand, letting the liquid slosh around, his eyes never leaving Fandaniel's. He doesn't have to hit him with it, not yet— the possibility hangs thick in the air, more of a threat than a promise.]
But between the two of us, I'd say you're the one looking overindulged. Did you have fun at trial today? Are you jealous of Gabimaru, knowing his fate?
Ah, t'was nearly mine own fate, only to have it snatched away so cruelly.
[ Fandaniel barely reacts to Nishi grabbing the bottle. A simple tilt of his head, eyes flitting to the side to acknowledge that it has happened, but otherwise, he is unconcerned. His gaze returns to the drunken man before him, and his smile is unchanged. What he won't do, though, is make any sudden movements. ]
[Oops. Perhaps he's had too much to drink, the slip of honesty escaping his tongue without warning.
Have I always been such an ugly person inside? Nishi thought he was managing fine, and yet here he is. When it becomes clear that Fandaniel has no fear of the bottle, Nishi loses the compulsion to wield it like a cudgel ready to fall.]
You still haven't answered my question. [Why do you want to die so badly?] Believe what you will, but I would rather understand people than cut their lives short without ever having truly known them.
[ Aha. So the man would claim his death as his own. That's cute, in a way.
A lack of fear tends to defuse such situations. The violent grow bored and move on, although Nishi lingers regardless. His question? Ah, what was that again? He chuckles. ]
My, you had the perfect chance to ask me at the Dramaturge's little ball. We all played Twenty Questions, you know. [ He isn't sure he saw Nishi there, or at the very least, not amongst those playing the infantile little game. ] Would you like to play it after all? Just you... and me, here, alone.
[ No one and nothing to distract save for Nishi's own unpredictability in his drunkness. ]
[Despite frequently finding himself shunted into the spotlight, Nishi prefers sticking to the walls, only perceived when he wishes to be. Silly little games are only fun when he's hosting them, or when the stakes are high enough to pique his interest. In the case of Fandaniel's offer... well. He's listening.
Nishi sits back, kicking one leg over the other.]
If you're so eager to die, then it won't matter how long you know me or how much of me you know. By all means, let's play.
[They can occupy each other until death do they part.]
[True to his word, Nishi meets Fandaniel in the costumerie, a fashionable few minutes late. If that puts Fandaniel off even the slightest bit, all the better.
Nishi stops before him, a hand perched on his hip.]
You can feel free to chicken out any time. I won't tell anyone.
My, is there something about the French that should frighten me?
[ yes??? Well, whatever it is, Fandaniel seems about as unconcerned as he did the last time they met, just the two of them. He has, of course, made sure to wash up, and he's donned his usual teacher's wear, modern wear with the white shirt and black vest, blue tie tucked in, and sharply ironed pants. ]
Edited (no wait breakfast thread was uh weekend... time... nm nm) 2025-08-27 01:08 (UTC)
[ And he follows, keeping two steps behind Nishi at all times without fail, onward in the depths of frills and gauze. ]
Hmm, my sizes...
[ He did have to figure them out for the current body, of course, meaning he only needs a moment to think before rattling them off without issue. He's short enough that plenty of women's sizes will do, if what's stocked follows Earth's standards, although having more muscle mass than the typical woman would need to be factored in for. ]
[Yes, yes, taking mental notes... Nishi finds the appropriate section and scans the racks for anything that might catch his eye. He also has to factor in Fandaniel's personality, or it won't be an appropriate punishment.
Sifting, sifting... Eventually, Nishi finds something that meets his specifications. A surprisingly modest choice, perhaps, but only on its surface. Some things should be left to the imagination and obscured beneath layers of cloth. That's what makes tearing it all away so satisfying.
He turns, handing the dress to Fandaniel. Not's not giving French maid at all, but it speaks to him.]
[ Was French some Hinganshi equivalent, he wondered? He was wrong, of course, to think that, since it certainly wasn't, but it was what the sleeves reminded him of first and foremost. With a shrug, he'll hold the dress up to himself shyly first, turning to make eyes at Nishi, mockingly coy. ]
I do hope my master will excuse me to change in the dressing room.
[He'd find the display more appealing were Fandaniel earnestly shy, but he'll have a chance to redeem himself once he's slipped into the dress and shown Nishi his willingness to commit to debauchery.
Nishi finds a seat, dragging over a plush chaise lounge so it sits right in front of the dressing room, a reminder for Fandaniel that he has an audience to please.
Nishi takes his seat and motions for Fandaniel to scurry off to the dressing room and get changed.]
Of course. Just don't stall in there deliberately. A dress like that should not be hard to put on.
[ There he goes, swooping away to the dressing room with glee. Honestly, that Nishi thinks something as simple as a dress will frighten him is worthy of amusement all in itself. He doesn't tarry; he's quick to shed his current outfit and don the maid dress, although it isn't without some complaint: ]
You couldn't even get me thigh-highs to go with this? Or heels?
[ But Nishi is right. It doesn't take him long to change, and soon enough, he's stepping out for final inspection. He even goes as far as to give a curtsy, plucking the skirt of the dress up to allow a proper one, even if, traditionally, if this is meant to be Hingan style, he should do a bow. ]
[When was the last time his intuition had spoken so clearly to him?
This uneasy feeling gnaws at him, leading Char straight to the library. It doesn't take long to find Fandaniel tucked away in some obscure corner. Good. This location will do nicely for an interrogation conversation.]
Call it a gut feeling, but something tells me you haven't been behaving yourself.
[ Fandaniel's had enough of Moonstone's happy-get-along-family time in keeping Lilia awake through his concussion, hence him finding an abandoned corner in the library to nap. He is not typically one in need of sleep, but with how battered he's been this past week, the need to stop and rest can even catch up with one such as him. So here he is, slouching in a cozy chair, feet propped up on a little library table.
He does not wear his teacher outfit, nor any dresses, but his original clothes from home. The robe is off, however, laid out over the back of the chair instead, and that leaves him in the sleeveless grey tunic typically under it. It means the healing welts and bruises across his arms are bared to the world, but also the bandages wrapped about his right forearm.
Before Nishi arrived, he'd been half-asleep, dozing as it were, eyes shut, but at the sound of his voice? He cracks open one eye first, then the other, stirring to wakefulness and sitting up straighter in the chair. ]
Nishi!
[ He exclaims, immediately smiling at him. Shocking how he honestly sounds happy to see the other man. Maybe he even is? ]
Why, I'm not sure what you mean. I've not been up to anything I wouldn't normally be up to!
[Without waiting for an answer, Char takes Fandaniel's chin lightly between his fingers. The gesture is casual, almost lazy, but there's intent behind the ease. He tilts his head, studying him carefully, making it clear that he's in control of the conversation. Fandaniel has him in something of a mood, what with this 'bond' between them that keeps him effortlessly on edge.]
I'm curious, though... how exactly have you been spending your time while nursing those wounds?
[ Fandaniel allows it, same as he's allowed about everything else, though it isn't Char alone who gets to touch. He reaches up to touch his wrist, idly stroking his fingers along it. The question earns an amused little hum. How to answer? ]
I daresay I spent some time in the hot springs, but it was always depressingly alone. I should have invited you... It did do wonders for my back, however.
[ It will still take time for what was inflicted on him to heal, of course, but the relief of soaking in warm water, mm. Not something he can do anymore, now that he has open wounds that need to remain under stitch and bandage, though. ]
Handed out a few detentions, had a terrible time at Sika Madu's little camping night, hmm, what else? [ He drags it out. What else, what else? ] Ah, and I did have a little chat with that oaf Solomon after the trial, but that matters little. Say, why does he get to call you a little pet name and not I? What if I called you Casval instead?
[His eyes narrow at the sound of his given name — Casval — the one he consigned to the flames long ago. Behind the mask, his expression is unreadable, but the pressure in the air grows thick, heavy, and unmistakably hostile.
He doesn't flinch at Fandaniel's touch, doesn't move, but his stillness has teeth. This isn't indifference, but a warning. Some things are not toys to be played with, least of all the ghosts he's buried.]
Casval is not a pet name. It's a dead one.
[His voice sharpens as he presses on.]
Tell me... was it really that foolish little nickname he gave me that pierced you so deeply you lashed out? Or are you simply so desperate for attention you'll bite at anything within reach?
[ Fandaniel isn't oblivious to the warning lingering in the air. He can feel it, how heavy it hangs over their heads, but it won't convince him to do anything other than laugh as he says that. Certainly, he won't use the name again, if that's the case, but it doesn't change the insane urge to have something from the man who should be his and his alone.
The gentle touch on Nishi's wrist becomes a hold as he grabs onto it instead, grip tightening. ]
Oh, no, not only the name. How he looks at you. Talks to you. How he spent the night with you. I am no longer willing to share; thus did I make sure he knew exactly how I felt about him and you.
[His hand slips from Fandaniel's chin— he already has his rapt attention, no need to hold him in place. Even so, Fandaniel's grip around his wrist keeps him from pulling away. Char allows it, granting the attention he's after... at least until he settles himself.
If he settles at all.]
So you overstepped. You didn't just lose your composure— you acted on irrational feelings and hurt someone needlessly. Tell me... how did you imagine I would respond? Did you hope I'd be proud of you? Or was it enough just to cry out for attention?
[ And he does want it, he wants the attention, he wants it so badly that it doesn't even make sense to him. He shouldn't feel like this about anyone. This is nothing more than another tiny life, utterly meaningless, short, soon to die with naught to show for it, and yet, and yet, and yet, this has been getting worse from the night they realized they held one another's secrets.
His grip tightens further, almost painfully, and he surges to his feet with a grimace. His side burns with pain, a reminder of where Solomon gave as good as he got during their little skirmish. ]
Needlessly? Needlessly?! Solomon has been a thorn in my side from the very start of this little game! I restrained myself until I saw you... and him... Looking so friendly with one another...
[ Were they? Or was Fandaniel being delusional, seeing what wasn't there? He yanks at Char's wrist, trying to force him close to him. ]
I want you to look only at me. Only me until the time comes for you to finally kill me.
[ He's certainly pushing it. Without his magic, Fandaniel is nothing more than a small man with, perhaps, a fit enough build, sure enough, but he is no fighter. He is no Char. He's certainly in no real position to make demands, and yet he does, because he cannot help it. He feels desperate for his attention. He wants, and it has been so long, so very long since he has wanted anything or anyone at all. ]
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Week 1: Post-trial
By the time Fandaniel walks in, he's slumped over at the bar, the stem of a wine glass held between limp fingers. Hearing someone walk in doesn't warrant a response on its own, but then...
...His instincts urge him upright, turning to see that his visitor is Fandaniel. Oh. Nishi smiles and cheers to him.]
What an unpleasant surprise! A wonderful way to cap off the night. Your comedic timing precedes you.
[Being shit-faced drunk doesn't do much to dull Nishi's tongue. On the contrary, it sharpens it.]
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Oh, Nishi. Drinking alone? Are you so mired in despair to fall to such a depth?
[ Glass clinks as he sets the bottles down on the bar, specifically out of Nishi's immediate reach, though he does indeed join him there, even if he won't take a seat just yet. ]
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And here comes the devil himself, down to taunt me. Tell me, have you ever considered wearing white? That sort of gaudy, vulgar color would suit you. Besides...
[Nishi straightens, grip tightening on the delicate stem of his glass. With no hesitation, he tips it over, spilling red wine in a smooth arc across Fandaniel's head, christening him in crimson.]
...White stains so much better.
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... [ Well. He reaches up with a gloved hand and wipes some of the wine dripping down his face, and he slowly licks it off. Hmm. Not a bad vintage, but when is anything in this place bad? The food and drink always seem to be divine. ] Such a waste of wine, good sir. I dare say you've had enough.
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Maybe you're right. Maybe I've had enough.
[He tilts the bottle lazily in one hand, letting the liquid slosh around, his eyes never leaving Fandaniel's. He doesn't have to hit him with it, not yet— the possibility hangs thick in the air, more of a threat than a promise.]
But between the two of us, I'd say you're the one looking overindulged. Did you have fun at trial today? Are you jealous of Gabimaru, knowing his fate?
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[ Fandaniel barely reacts to Nishi grabbing the bottle. A simple tilt of his head, eyes flitting to the side to acknowledge that it has happened, but otherwise, he is unconcerned. His gaze returns to the drunken man before him, and his smile is unchanged. What he won't do, though, is make any sudden movements. ]
Tell me, Nishi. Did you vote for me?
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[Oops. Perhaps he's had too much to drink, the slip of honesty escaping his tongue without warning.
Have I always been such an ugly person inside? Nishi thought he was managing fine, and yet here he is. When it becomes clear that Fandaniel has no fear of the bottle, Nishi loses the compulsion to wield it like a cudgel ready to fall.]
You still haven't answered my question. [Why do you want to die so badly?] Believe what you will, but I would rather understand people than cut their lives short without ever having truly known them.
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A lack of fear tends to defuse such situations. The violent grow bored and move on, although Nishi lingers regardless. His question? Ah, what was that again? He chuckles. ]
My, you had the perfect chance to ask me at the Dramaturge's little ball. We all played Twenty Questions, you know. [ He isn't sure he saw Nishi there, or at the very least, not amongst those playing the infantile little game. ] Would you like to play it after all? Just you... and me, here, alone.
[ No one and nothing to distract save for Nishi's own unpredictability in his drunkness. ]
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[Despite frequently finding himself shunted into the spotlight, Nishi prefers sticking to the walls, only perceived when he wishes to be. Silly little games are only fun when he's hosting them, or when the stakes are high enough to pique his interest. In the case of Fandaniel's offer... well. He's listening.
Nishi sits back, kicking one leg over the other.]
If you're so eager to die, then it won't matter how long you know me or how much of me you know. By all means, let's play.
[They can occupy each other until death do they part.]
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leaves the typo in there for posterity
he's a fan of denial alright
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cw: suicide mention
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week 2: Monday
Nishi stops before him, a hand perched on his hip.]
You can feel free to chicken out any time. I won't tell anyone.
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[
yes???Well, whatever it is, Fandaniel seems about as unconcerned as he did the last time they met, just the two of them. He has, of course, made sure to wash up, and he's donned his usual teacher's wear, modern wear with the white shirt and black vest, blue tie tucked in, and sharply ironed pants. ]no subject
[Little does he know... but on the note of attire, Nishi is dressed a little differently today, letting the clown attire rest for a day.
Nishi turns on his heel, motioning for Fandaniel to follow him deeper into the Costumerie where all the ornate frills and gauzy layers await them.]
Now then, you'll have to give me a rough approximation of your sizes. I neglected to bring a tape measure.
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Hmm, my sizes...
[ He did have to figure them out for the current body, of course, meaning he only needs a moment to think before rattling them off without issue. He's short enough that plenty of women's sizes will do, if what's stocked follows Earth's standards, although having more muscle mass than the typical woman would need to be factored in for. ]
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Sifting, sifting... Eventually, Nishi finds something that meets his specifications. A surprisingly modest choice, perhaps, but only on its surface. Some things should be left to the imagination and obscured beneath layers of cloth. That's what makes tearing it all away so satisfying.
He turns, handing the dress to Fandaniel. Not's not giving French maid at all, but it speaks to him.]
Give this a try.
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[ Was French some Hinganshi equivalent, he wondered? He was wrong, of course, to think that, since it certainly wasn't, but it was what the sleeves reminded him of first and foremost. With a shrug, he'll hold the dress up to himself shyly first, turning to make eyes at Nishi, mockingly coy. ]
I do hope my master will excuse me to change in the dressing room.
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Nishi finds a seat, dragging over a plush chaise lounge so it sits right in front of the dressing room, a reminder for Fandaniel that he has an audience to please.
Nishi takes his seat and motions for Fandaniel to scurry off to the dressing room and get changed.]
Of course. Just don't stall in there deliberately. A dress like that should not be hard to put on.
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You couldn't even get me thigh-highs to go with this? Or heels?
[ But Nishi is right. It doesn't take him long to change, and soon enough, he's stepping out for final inspection. He even goes as far as to give a curtsy, plucking the skirt of the dress up to allow a proper one, even if, traditionally, if this is meant to be Hingan style, he should do a bow. ]
Well?
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me when he should have been stiff and in pain all week 2 long welp
DLKNSLKNSLKSNLKSNLSKN and there's no pain reliever.............................
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week 2: post-exe
This uneasy feeling gnaws at him, leading Char straight to the library. It doesn't take long to find Fandaniel tucked away in some obscure corner. Good. This location will do nicely for a
n interrogationconversation.]Call it a gut feeling, but something tells me you haven't been behaving yourself.
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He does not wear his teacher outfit, nor any dresses, but his original clothes from home. The robe is off, however, laid out over the back of the chair instead, and that leaves him in the sleeveless grey tunic typically under it. It means the healing welts and bruises across his arms are bared to the world, but also the bandages wrapped about his right forearm.
Before Nishi arrived, he'd been half-asleep, dozing as it were, eyes shut, but at the sound of his voice? He cracks open one eye first, then the other, stirring to wakefulness and sitting up straighter in the chair. ]
Nishi!
[ He exclaims, immediately smiling at him. Shocking how he honestly sounds happy to see the other man. Maybe he even is? ]
Why, I'm not sure what you mean. I've not been up to anything I wouldn't normally be up to!
[ That in itself is probably not behaving. ]
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[Without waiting for an answer, Char takes Fandaniel's chin lightly between his fingers. The gesture is casual, almost lazy, but there's intent behind the ease. He tilts his head, studying him carefully, making it clear that he's in control of the conversation. Fandaniel has him in something of a mood, what with this 'bond' between them that keeps him effortlessly on edge.]
I'm curious, though... how exactly have you been spending your time while nursing those wounds?
[His voice is low, measured.]
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I daresay I spent some time in the hot springs, but it was always depressingly alone. I should have invited you... It did do wonders for my back, however.
[ It will still take time for what was inflicted on him to heal, of course, but the relief of soaking in warm water, mm. Not something he can do anymore, now that he has open wounds that need to remain under stitch and bandage, though. ]
Handed out a few detentions, had a terrible time at Sika Madu's little camping night, hmm, what else? [ He drags it out. What else, what else? ] Ah, and I did have a little chat with that oaf Solomon after the trial, but that matters little. Say, why does he get to call you a little pet name and not I? What if I called you Casval instead?
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He doesn't flinch at Fandaniel's touch, doesn't move, but his stillness has teeth. This isn't indifference, but a warning. Some things are not toys to be played with, least of all the ghosts he's buried.]
Casval is not a pet name. It's a dead one.
[His voice sharpens as he presses on.]
Tell me... was it really that foolish little nickname he gave me that pierced you so deeply you lashed out? Or are you simply so desperate for attention you'll bite at anything within reach?
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[ Fandaniel isn't oblivious to the warning lingering in the air. He can feel it, how heavy it hangs over their heads, but it won't convince him to do anything other than laugh as he says that. Certainly, he won't use the name again, if that's the case, but it doesn't change the insane urge to have something from the man who should be his and his alone.
The gentle touch on Nishi's wrist becomes a hold as he grabs onto it instead, grip tightening. ]
Oh, no, not only the name. How he looks at you. Talks to you. How he spent the night with you. I am no longer willing to share; thus did I make sure he knew exactly how I felt about him and you.
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If he settles at all.]
So you overstepped. You didn't just lose your composure— you acted on irrational feelings and hurt someone needlessly. Tell me... how did you imagine I would respond? Did you hope I'd be proud of you? Or was it enough just to cry out for attention?
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His grip tightens further, almost painfully, and he surges to his feet with a grimace. His side burns with pain, a reminder of where Solomon gave as good as he got during their little skirmish. ]
Needlessly? Needlessly?! Solomon has been a thorn in my side from the very start of this little game! I restrained myself until I saw you... and him... Looking so friendly with one another...
[ Were they? Or was Fandaniel being delusional, seeing what wasn't there? He yanks at Char's wrist, trying to force him close to him. ]
I want you to look only at me. Only me until the time comes for you to finally kill me.
[ He's certainly pushing it. Without his magic, Fandaniel is nothing more than a small man with, perhaps, a fit enough build, sure enough, but he is no fighter. He is no Char. He's certainly in no real position to make demands, and yet he does, because he cannot help it. He feels desperate for his attention. He wants, and it has been so long, so very long since he has wanted anything or anyone at all. ]
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