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]

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. ]