b u o n e ~ f e s t e

[sharktrash]

Who: Priders! (Basically if you (or your friend, or your dog) has had a positive interaction with anyone from MANTICORE, consider yourself invited, dragged along or sent in someone else's place. And even if you haven't been invited it's totally fine to notice something's going on and show up or  randomly come across this and stay!)
What: Genos and Squalo throw a Solstice dinner party. Italian food for everyone!
When: December 21?ish (forward-dated a bit so it doesn't fall right before irl holidays)
Where: MANTICORE penthouse
Warnings: MANTICORE Squalo, Carnies, language, minors getting drunk, substance abuse, someone might decide to bone, idk.


[ Fuck the creepy shit, MANTICORE are aggressively throwing a Solstice party! Because why not, and who has the patience to wait until New Years? ]

[ There are locations/prompts in toplevels, but feel free to start your own as well. Generic timeline of the night would be: cooking, dinner, socializing with games and booze and possibly other things, and  a movie marathon into the wee hours of the morning for the ones interested.  ]

Comments

[dishevelment]

[Gentle is good; Mei's not even thinking about that now.]

...Do they even give funerals for an enemy general?

[sharktrash]

[ He considers it, and keeps brushing. ]

Don't think so. Probably something more like tying his corpse to a horse and dragging it on the ground around the city while everyone cheers and spits on it.

[dishevelment]

Hm....

That doesn't sound good-- and I hope that isn't what happens to that guy. I don't understand it all yet, but he leads an interesting life.

[sharktrash]

[ blink. blink blink. ]

What guy is that guy again?

[dishevelment]

That general who might be me-- who might be dead. [He shifted a little, letting Squalo have a better angle to brush.] It's hard, but I'm trying to look at things rationally.

[sharktrash]

It's... really fucking weird when you say it might be you and then talk about him in third person. [ Hopefully the brushing is soothing. Actually, if he doesn't resist it, he might start feeling more relaxed the longer he's in close contact to Squalo. Those Rain Flames have been back for a while now. ] Well, the good news is that it doesn't make the difference to the dead one either way.

[ a pause. most people get upset about desecrating the dead for some reason, but really... ]

That's also a rational thought.

[dishevelment]

[He doesn't fight it-- doesn't even realize that there's anything to fight in Squalo's presence. Just being around the wild cellist was oddly calming, in a way that no one could have anticipated.]

...I know, [he replied quietly, the comment intended to address all of the problems before them.] It's just hard to stay rational when so many of my impressions are....are feelings more than anything else.

[A young man whose demand had felt like a stab to his very core; a young woman whom he desperately wanted to protect; a regal and dignified man whom he had wanted nothing more than to follow...

It was strange, and becoming exceedingly difficult not to sympathize with that General.]

[sharktrash]

[ All the better, then. Do try not to fall asleep in the middle of a sentence, though. ]

Mm. That's fine, don't you think? Maybe it's trying to tell you something.

[ There was no reason to invalidate those feelings even if it seemed to be coming from someone... different. When you dream of being of superhero, you still refer to them as "me", no? Why would this be different? ]

[dishevelment]

[He wasn't falling asleep yet-- he had too many other details on his mind.

Like thoughts of how to resolve this puzzle before them.]

Yeah, I thought of that too. It's just all....much closer than anything I expected.

[sharktrash]

[ Pretty impressive he could already visualize it as a puzzle, really. The best way was to start filling in the pieces, of course. Start at the edges with no rush, slow and certain, and the center will reveal itself eventually. ]

What did it feel like?

[ It may or may not be more than simple curiosity. ]

[dishevelment]

About the dying thing?

[He shifted around to carefully make eye contact with Squalo.]

It felt like I was being impaled-- but there wasn't any surprise or anger with it. Just clarity, and worry over a some people I've been dreaming about lately.

[A young woman who should never have been sent off to battle, and a young man with a cold fire in his eyes that had ignighted from the very depths of his soul. He reached out a hand to gently press against Squalo's torso, in a spot that was just below his rib cage.]

---Right there. Close to where that kid attacked me at the party.

[sharktrash]

Well, that and... everything.

[ He looks back at him, listening, expression unreadable, but his eyes narrow just a little bit when he shows where he was attacked. That's... interesting. And that makes two of them. Then he frowns. ]

I was also stabbed in the same place that killed me in the... vision. Do you think it's significant?

[dishevelment]

That depends, [Koumei said quiet, in a tone that was so neutral that he could have been discussing the weather.] Is your....other ego a military general in Ancient China?

[sharktrash]

[ mei pls. ]

No, I don't think so. It wasn't detailed so far. Some kind of fighter, though. A bodyguard, perhaps?..

[ He did remember that immense sensation of protecting, of throwing himself in the way to take a hit meant for someone else. Also not unlike the murderparty, actually. ]

I meant, what happens to us and what we remember seems... similar. Between the instances, not the both of us. It could be connected. Or one's a really elaborate hallucination inspired by the other.

[ He pointedly doesn't imply which is which, though. ]

[dishevelment]

[Brows furrowing in concern, Koumei gently brushed the hand that was on Squalo's body up his chest and pressed a finger against the Cellist's lips.]

--Please be careful with words like that, Squalo, [He intoned, no longer nonchalant. There was a gleam of something sharp lingering underneath his eyes-- like a blade, or the keen intellect of a chessmaster.] Someone else who's been seeing things and making noise was already brought in for brain surgery, likely without their full consent. We don't know what Xanxus did to get so badly hurt, either. I don't want to see you ending up like either of them.

[sharktrash]

[ He blinks at him in surprise, then licks that finger and grins. There's something of almost matching sharpness behind it. ]

I'm not making noise. I'm not gonna preach this shit off the rooftops, either. You told me, so I'm telling you. In confidence, if you will.

[dishevelment]

And it will remain confidential. Just-- I want you to stay safe.

[sharktrash]

Good.

[ He relaxes, sinking back into the couch a bit more. He may or may not somewhat roughly rub his cheek against the other man's hair if he can reach it, some kind of borderline animalistic show of fondness. What can he say, that sharpness moments ago was... attractive. ]

I've got no wish to end up like that. And you'd better not, either. I like you in one piece.

[dishevelment]

[The tactile show of affection earns a pleased hum from the redhead, like that of a contented cat. There was a certain physicality that he liked, one that was lacking in many of his interpersonal relationships.

This? This was good.]

Glad to hear we're in accord. Besides...you still owe me breakfast.

[How teaching a man to cook became cooking for a man was unknown in his sleep addled haze, but he was going to roll with it. Squalo was a damn good cook.]

[sharktrash]

Damn right. And I'd better not have to feed it to the fish.

[ He's going to start brushing again, once he manages to untangle that brush from the jungle of hair that is. Princess is free to sleep now if he wants, but Squalo seems to have made a blood pact with the devil to get his ponytail in order tonight. ]