[ And remove it he does. It's a strange desire, to want to gaze upon Nishi's face without such a barrier between them. He would not normally care as to what someone did or didn't wear, mask or no mask, but here, it feels intimate. As if this is a sight only for him. What an odd want.
To want anything at all besides the death he seeks so rabidly, and for it to be something as simple as the sight of a face? ]
A symbol steeped in history and expectations, much like a crown sat upon your head. You need not wear a crown for me, Nishi, though I wonder... Are you perhaps meant to be my prince?
[ A prince and their princess, a groom and their bride; whatever foolishness this place is forcing upon them. ]
[What excuse does he have for the heat on his cheeks? The alcohol? The strange nakedness he feels without his mask hiding half his face? Or, more likely, the gaze fixed on him now, sharp as needles, precise enough to sting and leave him vaguely aching.
Nishi has also started to wonder what this place intends for the two of them— what kind of cruel joke or binding thread it means to weave from their connection, one that persists even after their less than stellar first impressions. Canting his head to one side, Nishi observes him in pointed silence, sharp as needles.]
How long were you lost, drifting in that crystalline world? Were you waiting alone for a prince to find you and steal you away from your fate?
[And how long would he have waited? Years? Centuries? How long does a soul yearn to be freed before it gives in and breaks?]
[ What did he give up from that time? He searches his memories, seeking some idea, some concept, as to what he's paid to be here. He awaited them, the arrival of the hero and their companions, praying to put a stop to—
A shiver runs through him, visibly so, and he closes his eyes briefly, freeing Nishi from his intense stare for only a moment. He breathes in, then out, and then his grey eyes open again. He sets the mark aside on the bar to ensure there's no chance of it tumbling from his fingers. ]
I am... unsure. I recall dying and sinking down into it to wait. I still had something to do, and refused to be washed away into its depths.
Mm. So, at that time, you weren't prepared to let go.
[Work left undone. Something left to do. Nishi wonders, then— was his own death like that? Did he have unfinished business, or had it been a deliberate choice?
If he trusts his gut, he imagines he died with every intention of burning in hell afterward. Perhaps even dragging someone else with him, desperate to perish but not perish alone.
He doesn't offer any salve for Fandaniel's anxieties; that isn't in him. Instead, he refills his glass and presses it insistently toward the other's fingers, a wordless go on.]
...But that's not the case now, is it? But there must be some reason why you haven't simply ended your own life.
Ah, it would seem he may be matching Nishi on his drunken level soon enough, perhaps in another glass or two. How atrocious, and yet the thought is not enough to stop him. The blankness of memory bothers him now that he's realized where it is; it is like tonguing an empty spot in the gum, where a tooth has been freshly yanked, or picking at a scab, ensuring it scars rather than heals. ]
Do you know? I did try. I sought out Sika Madu and slit my own throat before them. Perhaps I meant to spite them and their Father, but it would appear that is now allowed, for here I am, still alive, neck untouched.
[ Yikes, man, yikes. ]
But no. I feel you are correct. Did I fail? Did I not defeat my star's vaunted hero? Then I must have chosen this route to try again. To damn them all with me after the fact.
[A cold, almost clinical response, maybe, but Nishi is listening without judgment. Those who have lived comparatively normal lives would hear what Fandaniel has done, what he's willing to do to himself, and balk. They'd want to judge, to condemn, but even the devil is not so unsympathetic a figure.
So Nishi reaches out, his fingers ghosting along his neck where a nasty scar ought to be. No peace, not even in death... What a frightening commonality.]
You're like a bird trapped in its cage, kept in some dark corner. That's a shame. Someone ought to set you free.
[His fingers press into Fandaniel's neck just enough to feel the pulse that skips beneath his skin.]
[ Only it doesn't skip. Nishi will find the pulse barely there, almost non-existent. It shouldn't be that way. It isn't healthy, it isn't natural, and Fandaniel is well aware of that fact, but he won't push the hand away. No, he'll put the glass down and take that hand instead, pressing it harder against his throat, pushing the fingers so that they wrap around it instead. ]
A cage that can only be opened by a true death, not whatever farce is being played here. Will it be you who does it? Will it be you who kills me at long last, so that I can never return?
[ It feels more like a request than a question. He... wants this, he realizes. This is how it should be. This man, destined to finish his sorry existence after all this time, one who will not balk or cry over him like so many others might.
It almost feels romantic. Maybe it even is. With how much he desires an end, how easily it is to mix the two, to desire the one he wants to kill him so. ]
[It feels like he's being given no choice— a position that feels intimately familiar, only Fandaniel has no shame in impressing his needs upon him.
A crooked smile lifts the corner of his lips. Laughter follows, the kind Nishi can only aim at himself, finding this own role in this comical. How many people could Fandaniel ask this of? How many people would fail to take him seriously, and how many more would quail at the idea of snuffing the life out of him?
For a long while, Nishi's fingers remain still against Fandaniel's neck. Seconds bleed into minutes, his request contemplated in earnest. The look on Nishi's face is imperceptible, his eyes unblinking where they stare deeply into Fandaniel's.]
You really are an audacious man... but don't mistake me for someone generous. At the very least, I would expect you to make it worth the trouble.
[ Fandaniel is content to remain silent as Nishi considers the offer; it would be what the man had seemed to hope for before, no? To be the one who killed him. To bury him in a grave. And here he was, offering it to him, but he felt no need to push or insist. A smirk plays across his lips when Nishi finally speaks, eyes narrowing with a hint of amusement, or is it even a hint? When he always seems so damn amused already?
He'll idly brush his fingers over the hand at his throat, a gentle, lingering touch. ]
I would expect nothing less. To only take from you would make for a very poor partnership. You need only ask. Tell me what you want. I will not deny you.
[With that established, Nishi's hand falls away from Fandaniel's throat, a wry grin on his lips when he denies him what he wants. If Fandaniel can endure everything Nishi is going to put him through, he will eventually earn his reward... but there may be a little choking as a treat somewhere down the line. It all depends on how Fandaniel plays his cards.
Nishi leans back, cheek resting against his fist. He's looking Fandaniel up and down for reasons that will become clear shortly—]
Good. Then you should have no problem waiting on me hand and foot until your number is up. To start with, you'll need to look the part.
[That's the approach. He'll gradually up the ante until Fandaniel realizes it's not worth it to court death by Nishi's hands, until he gets fed up and forces someone else to visit sweet death upon him. Shouldn't be too hard.]
[ Oh, look the part? There's a laugh, though an honest one rather than some high-pitched, deranged monstrosity. Nishi is about to find out how difficult Fandaniel is to get rid of. His previous lord had been far more dangerous than this man and had threatened and threatened, and yet! ]
I can assure you, I look excellent in a butler's suit if that is your desire.
[...This man has to back down at some point, right? It's fine. Nishi will win this battle of attrition. He's sure of it.]
Fine, fine. But seeing as you had a bit of an accident earlier [lol], we might reconvene in the morning. You should go bathe so the dresses don't get stained with wine.
[ Excuse him a moment while he picks the glass of wine back up, being sure to finish it off. He does it in one go, drinking, and drinking, and then licking his lips clean slowly once he's done, gaze dropping back down to Nishi. He won't do anything else, though.
He'll leave the glass on the bar and slide down off the stool, offering him a prim and proper bow before he heads off. ]
Anything my master wishes. I shall see you upon the morning.
[ And then he whisks himself away, a cheerful little pep to his step. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
To want anything at all besides the death he seeks so rabidly, and for it to be something as simple as the sight of a face? ]
A symbol steeped in history and expectations, much like a crown sat upon your head. You need not wear a crown for me, Nishi, though I wonder... Are you perhaps meant to be my prince?
[ A prince and their princess, a groom and their bride; whatever foolishness this place is forcing upon them. ]
no subject
Nishi has also started to wonder what this place intends for the two of them— what kind of cruel joke or binding thread it means to weave from their connection, one that persists even after their less than stellar first impressions. Canting his head to one side, Nishi observes him in pointed silence, sharp as needles.]
How long were you lost, drifting in that crystalline world? Were you waiting alone for a prince to find you and steal you away from your fate?
[And how long would he have waited? Years? Centuries? How long does a soul yearn to be freed before it gives in and breaks?]
no subject
[ What did he give up from that time? He searches his memories, seeking some idea, some concept, as to what he's paid to be here. He awaited them, the arrival of the hero and their companions, praying to put a stop to—
A shiver runs through him, visibly so, and he closes his eyes briefly, freeing Nishi from his intense stare for only a moment. He breathes in, then out, and then his grey eyes open again. He sets the mark aside on the bar to ensure there's no chance of it tumbling from his fingers. ]
I am... unsure. I recall dying and sinking down into it to wait. I still had something to do, and refused to be washed away into its depths.
no subject
[Work left undone. Something left to do. Nishi wonders, then— was his own death like that? Did he have unfinished business, or had it been a deliberate choice?
If he trusts his gut, he imagines he died with every intention of burning in hell afterward. Perhaps even dragging someone else with him, desperate to perish but not perish alone.
He doesn't offer any salve for Fandaniel's anxieties; that isn't in him. Instead, he refills his glass and presses it insistently toward the other's fingers, a wordless go on.]
...But that's not the case now, is it? But there must be some reason why you haven't simply ended your own life.
cw: suicide mention
Ah, it would seem he may be matching Nishi on his drunken level soon enough, perhaps in another glass or two. How atrocious, and yet the thought is not enough to stop him. The blankness of memory bothers him now that he's realized where it is; it is like tonguing an empty spot in the gum, where a tooth has been freshly yanked, or picking at a scab, ensuring it scars rather than heals. ]
Do you know? I did try. I sought out Sika Madu and slit my own throat before them. Perhaps I meant to spite them and their Father, but it would appear that is now allowed, for here I am, still alive, neck untouched.
[ Yikes, man, yikes. ]
But no. I feel you are correct. Did I fail? Did I not defeat my star's vaunted hero? Then I must have chosen this route to try again. To damn them all with me after the fact.
no subject
[A cold, almost clinical response, maybe, but Nishi is listening without judgment. Those who have lived comparatively normal lives would hear what Fandaniel has done, what he's willing to do to himself, and balk. They'd want to judge, to condemn, but even the devil is not so unsympathetic a figure.
So Nishi reaches out, his fingers ghosting along his neck where a nasty scar ought to be. No peace, not even in death... What a frightening commonality.]
You're like a bird trapped in its cage, kept in some dark corner. That's a shame. Someone ought to set you free.
[His fingers press into Fandaniel's neck just enough to feel the pulse that skips beneath his skin.]
no subject
A cage that can only be opened by a true death, not whatever farce is being played here. Will it be you who does it? Will it be you who kills me at long last, so that I can never return?
[ It feels more like a request than a question. He... wants this, he realizes. This is how it should be. This man, destined to finish his sorry existence after all this time, one who will not balk or cry over him like so many others might.
It almost feels romantic. Maybe it even is. With how much he desires an end, how easily it is to mix the two, to desire the one he wants to kill him so. ]
no subject
A crooked smile lifts the corner of his lips. Laughter follows, the kind Nishi can only aim at himself, finding this own role in this comical. How many people could Fandaniel ask this of? How many people would fail to take him seriously, and how many more would quail at the idea of snuffing the life out of him?
For a long while, Nishi's fingers remain still against Fandaniel's neck. Seconds bleed into minutes, his request contemplated in earnest. The look on Nishi's face is imperceptible, his eyes unblinking where they stare deeply into Fandaniel's.]
You really are an audacious man... but don't mistake me for someone generous. At the very least, I would expect you to make it worth the trouble.
no subject
He'll idly brush his fingers over the hand at his throat, a gentle, lingering touch. ]
I would expect nothing less. To only take from you would make for a very poor partnership. You need only ask. Tell me what you want. I will not deny you.
no subject
Nishi leans back, cheek resting against his fist. He's looking Fandaniel up and down for reasons that will become clear shortly—]
Good. Then you should have no problem waiting on me hand and foot until your number is up. To start with, you'll need to look the part.
[That's the approach. He'll gradually up the ante until Fandaniel realizes it's not worth it to court death by Nishi's hands, until he gets fed up and forces someone else to visit sweet death upon him. Shouldn't be too hard.]
no subject
I can assure you, I look excellent in a butler's suit if that is your desire.
no subject
[Nishi's laugh is a decidedly mean one. He's sure Fandaniel cleans up well, but he's looking for something dirtier.]
I was thinking a maid's dress— French style, of course.
no subject
A maid's dress, you say? Well, if you insist, but you shall have to pick it out for me. I am unaware of what the French are.
no subject
Fine, fine. But seeing as you had a bit of an accident earlier [lol], we might reconvene in the morning. You should go bathe so the dresses don't get stained with wine.
no subject
[ Excuse him a moment while he picks the glass of wine back up, being sure to finish it off. He does it in one go, drinking, and drinking, and then licking his lips clean slowly once he's done, gaze dropping back down to Nishi. He won't do anything else, though.
He'll leave the glass on the bar and slide down off the stool, offering him a prim and proper bow before he heads off. ]
Anything my master wishes. I shall see you upon the morning.
[ And then he whisks himself away, a cheerful little pep to his step. ]