The Barren Whims of Hearts (Open RP)
At one point, Kuronue would have been quite pleased to meet a demon with as much capacity for violence as Kuronue himself.
Now all he felt was disgust and that horrible sinking feeling in his gut that may also have been the fact that he was falling from the sky, forced from there by a cluster of evil little bombs that tittered back and forth between each other. He sliced through them with his sickle, detonating others with the thin wire connecting his hand to the weapons.
Righting himself with the aid of his wings, he glided to the nearest tower steeple and perched on the very tip of it, folding his wings against his back. He tucked his weapons on his belts and they settled, the metal warm from the utter heat of the bombs.
Karasu smiled, at least, Kuronue thought he did. His eyes suggested it. Standing on the roof of the tower closest to Kuronue, the other demon had his hands in his pockets, his hair and tails of his coat swirling about him with the force of the wind. Kuronue scowled, tilting his head down a little so the sun shielded his eyes and he didn't have to look at that smile any more.
"So," Karasu began, his voice carrying easily. "Have you been well, Kuronue?"
"Piss off," Kuronue snapped.
Karasu chuckled.
"I liked you then, maybe, but not now." Kuronue had been stupid to trust Karasu in the Netherworld. There, Karasu had pursued Kurama too. Only through Kuronue, who was only too happy to tell a curious demon stories of their time together.
Only then Karasu hadn't been black haired and wore a mask. Why had no one warned him that he could change hair colours at will? In death, Karasu had been blond.
Kuronue could feel that smile widen. He shuddered and ducked his head, looking down at the tiles on the roof.
"No. You still like me now. Me, my body...my touch. Just like when we were dead, hm?" Karasu's voice was right by his ear, hands (familiar hands) caressed the exposed skin on his abdomen, down further. They tingled, a burning sensation like too-cold ice drifting along with them.
Kuronue grunted, closed his eyes. Fuck.
Karasu hummed, a quiet little satisfied sound and his hands fell away. Soon after his presence did too, and Kuronue turned to watch the demon jump from rooftop to rooftop. His eyes followed him until Karasu stopped at the banks of the lake and then closed. "Fuck!" he screamed, grinding his teeth.
Shaking himself a little, Kuronue hopped down from the steeple and went looking for a distraction, keeping to the roofs.
(OOC: Pick your poison. And, yes, they were erm, acquainted, to say the least, while dead.)
Now all he felt was disgust and that horrible sinking feeling in his gut that may also have been the fact that he was falling from the sky, forced from there by a cluster of evil little bombs that tittered back and forth between each other. He sliced through them with his sickle, detonating others with the thin wire connecting his hand to the weapons.
Righting himself with the aid of his wings, he glided to the nearest tower steeple and perched on the very tip of it, folding his wings against his back. He tucked his weapons on his belts and they settled, the metal warm from the utter heat of the bombs.
Karasu smiled, at least, Kuronue thought he did. His eyes suggested it. Standing on the roof of the tower closest to Kuronue, the other demon had his hands in his pockets, his hair and tails of his coat swirling about him with the force of the wind. Kuronue scowled, tilting his head down a little so the sun shielded his eyes and he didn't have to look at that smile any more.
"So," Karasu began, his voice carrying easily. "Have you been well, Kuronue?"
"Piss off," Kuronue snapped.
Karasu chuckled.
"I liked you then, maybe, but not now." Kuronue had been stupid to trust Karasu in the Netherworld. There, Karasu had pursued Kurama too. Only through Kuronue, who was only too happy to tell a curious demon stories of their time together.
Only then Karasu hadn't been black haired and wore a mask. Why had no one warned him that he could change hair colours at will? In death, Karasu had been blond.
Kuronue could feel that smile widen. He shuddered and ducked his head, looking down at the tiles on the roof.
"No. You still like me now. Me, my body...my touch. Just like when we were dead, hm?" Karasu's voice was right by his ear, hands (familiar hands) caressed the exposed skin on his abdomen, down further. They tingled, a burning sensation like too-cold ice drifting along with them.
Kuronue grunted, closed his eyes. Fuck.
Karasu hummed, a quiet little satisfied sound and his hands fell away. Soon after his presence did too, and Kuronue turned to watch the demon jump from rooftop to rooftop. His eyes followed him until Karasu stopped at the banks of the lake and then closed. "Fuck!" he screamed, grinding his teeth.
Shaking himself a little, Kuronue hopped down from the steeple and went looking for a distraction, keeping to the roofs.
(OOC: Pick your poison. And, yes, they were erm, acquainted, to say the least, while dead.)