jigokulogs | semi-open 👹 beauty of the night

[ His eyebrows furrow at her request. It seems like whatever that she wishes to share with him is a deep secret, and so, he can only nod. ]

I swear as a doctor, as a surgeon, I will keep what you say between us.

[ Artemy does nearly add his other title, but that has no meaning in this place. But he says it to himself all the same. As a menkhu, I will tell your secrets to no one. ]

Thank you.

[As long as she's the only one who can choose who and when to tell this to, it should be fine. And making a promise even if it's just a verbal exchange adds some layer of security to her heart.

Time to get it over with. Her next sentence comes out in a rush, hurried and urgent, wanting to just pass it off as a simple fact, but unaccustomed to letting someone know so soon even with their fantastical and unusual circumstances surrounding them.]

I don't feel physical pain. I can tell if I'm injured and my remaining senses are functioning, but it's just...

What.

[ The question comes out stupidly.

His eyes dart up to the sky; he's already going through how her ankle felt when he looked it over. If she can't feel pain, if she ran on it, he worries that it might have been worse. But the feeling of it beneath his hands, he knew that it was just a sprain. His shoulders lower, relax, not realizing that they had started to rise out of panic for wanting to check over her injuries a second time.

He breathes out slow; she shared something important and something she wanted to keep hidden. Artemy doesn't know why it may be but can only nod. ]

... It will stay between us.

[Her body moves as she laughs, full of mirth.]

I know, right? It's so... You know...??

[Though her circumstances that led up to why she's like this is very out there. Not of the world. But that's enough from her for now.]

... And thank you.

[Her arms squeeze him from behind; it's a hug, an embrace of gratefulness.]

No? But also yes. A bit.

[ He can imagine it is frightening, but also believe that she slowly grew accustomed to the strangeness of it all. His chin gives another small nod; he can understand a little. ]

You're welcome.

[ His smile finds its way into his voice. ] You can come to me whenever you worry about your body. I'll make sure that even if you can't feel it, all your hurts will not be ignored.

Hm.

[There's a short hum before she casually replies in a joking manner.]

Well, I hope you don't say that to every injured woman you meet.

[She can't help herself, okay?]

[ Listen, he can't stop himself either: ]

Why? Do you think it'll make me popular?

It could! It'll make them swoon and they'll be tripping all over themselves for you to check up on them.

[Levity is good. It lightens that burden in her mind or at least kicks away a pebble of it.]

Soon, I'll be waiting at the end of the line and it'll take forever for you to do a checkup for me.

Ah, you will always come first, cousin. No matter what, you shall always have a place at the front of the line.

[ Artemy laughs at the idea that women would swoon over him. His mug is one that tends to make people pale and turn their eyes away; it's due to the resting bitch face that he has and he looks seconds away from tearing off someone's head. ]

How is that? Another good line to make them all swoon, hm?

Is that a promise? I'm very strict when it comes to those you know. But that's a very good line. You can only get better from there.

[She closes her eyes and lets the thought of all the violence that had just happened fall behind them. It really was a shame that a night of celebration and bonding had to end so shockingly with the death of a leader that he was affected by.

And yet he's helping her in the here and now. It occurs to Marianna that she didn't have people like him before, not until she met Iona and Oren.]

... After you drop me off, make sure to get some shuteye yourself okay? And after that, what you do from there...

[His choice. It goes unsaid, but Artemy had made it clear he was determined to avenge the Daitengu. She's of the Tamamo Clan and it was most likely, she'll have to be embroiled in her leader's scheming after an incident like this. At least her ankle will keep her out of the action for however long.]

Edited 2022-04-28 05:10 (UTC)

Funny, I am equally strict when it comes to bonds made with words. So, I will say that it is a promise. If you come as a patient, you will be seen first. No questions will be asked.

[ It is a promise that he feels he can uphold. His heart sinks; he had wanted to share these feelings with all the youkai, all the Lost Souls. This night would have been where they were all as one rather than apart. Why is it so difficult for everyone to live together? Why is it so hard for them to live with one another?

His steps feel a little heavier, but he lifts his head to keep his pace even and steady. ]

... I'll see if I can do that, but I don't know if I can keep that promise to you, Monts.

[ Their tone of voice become a little more serious, but his gaze remains ahead of them. That is what is most important; the movement forward. ]

Whatever comes to pass, we will not be enemies. [ That is something that he can promise. It is what he chooses to do from here on with her. He will not see her as an enemy even if she might have to view him as one. ]

[There's no response at first. What can she say? How many moments like this will be left in the uncertain and foggy future?]

... Hey. Artemy?

[She rests her head against the nook of his shoulder and neck again. Tired yet her body won't tell her directly.]

What was the place you were from like? You don't have to tell me a long story. Give me the short version. Then I'll talk about mine.

[A distraction. A way for her to learn about people who would live so far away, an ocean of stars and galaxies away even.]

I would like that, Monts.

[ There is a softer smile that wraps around his words, giving each one a warm embrace; one that he would probably give the person on his back if he were not carrying her. ]

The place where I am from... [ His lips press together, as he thinks of it. ] ... it is a place that is healing and moving forward. One where it will do so hand-in-hand with the culture they do not fully understand and the future that they don't yet know.

[ Or so he hopes. ] A poor description, but it is short. [ He chuckles, but the sound is weary, tired; he wants to believe the place he is from will heal and will keep going on. ] What about where you come from?

It's not a bad description. I like it enough.

[She closes her eyes, thinking, trying to overwrite their current scenery for the one she's lived in all her life.]

Where I'm from... It's dry and sunny. When the temperature is just right, the sky is wonderfully clear and blue. Other days, the haze from the city kind of ruins everything else.

[Yeah, so Los Angeles. But on the other hand...]

Sometimes, when non-locals think of my home, they think of self-absorbed wealthy people who live in the hills. When I think of it, I see a dirty, colorful city. It's an unusual blend of tall buildings and then when you go out a little further, you find small corners where you discover something you've never noticed before.

Oh yeah. And awful, awful, traffic.

That is the problem about those who don't live where you call home.

[ He offers a sigh. ]

They don't know the beauty of the people, of the city, of each stone or brick. They can't hear the voice that is within the place. All they hear is noise or see it as a barbaric place where no one should be living. [ Artemy can't help but sound a little snide as he thinks of a certain person who constantly talked a lot of shit about his town. ]

But that is all right. You know the beauty and its culture. You know how it speaks to you... it holds a place in your heart and I hope that the way it holds you is equally as gentle and as caring.

[There's a low chuckle on her end.]

Oh, I don't know. I've been through the wringer and tossed back and forth by it. It's probably on me though, not necessarily the location.

[She didn't keep good company before anyway.]

Do you know what I do miss? The food. Or at least my grandma's cooking.

So long as you still have love for it, I'm certain your place loves you, too.

[ That is what he believes, anyway. ]

Could you learn to make some of it here? [ A beat. ] A poor substitute to what is missed, but I believe like your story of where you come from... it would be good to share with others.

I probably could? But... Hm.

[Her brow wrinkles.]

Not too sure about getting the exact ingredients. Ugh, I also would have to depend on my memory for certain recipes, but most of them are kind of hard without a guide. I really should have paid more attention...

[Abuela was more about directing Monts on taking care of a few steps and then fulfilling the rest herself.]

Hm. I guess I could try baking conchas?

[Another resigned sigh.] I'd have to figure out how to make those shapes...

Cousin, forgive me.

[ He hears what he thinks is pain in her voice, and can only attempt to do what he can to help her. Certainly, he slips into calling her family yet again, but they have grown quite close in this short time, so how could he not think this way? ]

We are among yokai and those with powers far beyond ourselves.

[ His tone tries to be helpful. ]

They may be able to pull those memories for you and give you better instructions. You know the way; you watched and you remember. It is time for your present self to know the same.

Well. You got me there.

[She concedes that it isn't impossible, but it wouldn't be the same. Listening to him speak, it occurs to Monts that his use of language is... Well, 'flowery' wouldn't be accurate. The contrast of his speech versus her casual airy words is kind of funny to her though.]

If I made you something, would you taste it?

Of course.

[ A slight pause follows. ]

I wouldn't just taste it but eat it whole.

[ Ha-ha, he's quite funny.

He also decides to not say that his taste buds are all but shot due to eating out of the garbage from before he came to the plane they fine themselves and still doing so now. ]

[Pffff.]

I gotta say. The visual of you trying to stuff a whole concha in your mouth is... Yeah, that's pretty funny.

[Her own tastebuds function at least, though anything extreme in temperature, she wouldn't notice, or worse if anything scrapes against her mouth. It gets iffy there.]

Concha.

[ He repeats the word back to her. ]

Is it quite large? Wide? Long?

[ Artemy likes this talk; it eases the rage that has built up in him. He stores it away for when it will be pulled on, again. Instead, he laughs and jokes with Monts; the gratitude he feels in her presence grows. ]

It's a sweet bread with a textured pattern on top, kind of like a seashell and they're round with a flat bottom. Usually, conchas can fit in your hand, but they have a lot of volume.

[She likes this sort of talk as well; where it's insignificant knowledge, but it eases both parties as they casually learn about one another.]

The top patterned layer can be any color and flavor. It's a popular bread to have for breakfast with coffee.

[ His eyes roll up as he tries to imagine exactly what these conchas are from her description.

What he comes up with is a bread in the shape of a seashell that is covered in multiple layers of color -- perhaps, even meats? He thinks such a treat would satisfy one's hunger for hours. ]

It sounds like a dream. [ Is what he ends up saying; voice filled with awe. ] I suddenly feel even more blessed to be the first person that'd be able to eat it.

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nerine - 2022-05-09 01:00 (UTC) - Expand