sinsparadox | i'm having trouble with your name, it's on my tongue, <@limerently>

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i'm having trouble with your name, it's on my tongue, <@limerently>

(as expected of their parting, she had found herself lectured again. one and done. no promises offered to never do it again, nothing more than exasperation at mostima's antics being well in line with her usual. eventually, she found herself faced with a surprise. their first meeting since that day had been one in which the fallen had....taken care of a few fools. the boys on the ground, her in the middle without losing her constant smile. they thought her a target to rob and soon found themselves learning she wasn't.

of course, she wasn't so deterred by the blade that almost met her neck whenever shizuru had decided to come after her. mostima by then could only wink before she disappeared, again. her name unoffered, but her unusual appearance is enough to draw attention to those willing. too slow. she won't be so easily caught by this girl, not by anyone for that matter whenever it comes to her usual. her overseer was confused about what took her so long, mostima only offered the phoenix a simple enough response. cleaning up.

the second time after that day (another day passing), mostima had been busy. distracted by food stalls and the like. some of them seemed pleased to have an interested guest in this foreign anomaly while she wandered the streets. a few children had taken the opportunity to attempt playing with her, she responded kindly before moving on after a few paltry tricks meant to awe them. mostima was alone, she knew she was being followed, she even seemed to make it a game to figure out where shizuru is. by the time that shizuru might have attempted to catch her again, she's gone. having had drifted away through alleyways. the children and adults spoke fondly of her, again, proving she existed and wasn't some manner of hallucination.

the third time was by evening on another day, mostima again traveling, but this time with her overseer. fiammetta herself was annoyed. a little back and forth exchange could be heard promptly followed by the phoenix attempting to throttle her for a lewd remark.

("have you ever thought that getting laid would help that stick in your ass?")

("shut the fuck up before i introduce you to the business end of my crossbow.")

the exchange was brief, before the redder one, fiammetta, had left. leaving mostima alone and heading into somewhere different. a club? odd choice, but she, like the other members of penguin logistics, could not resist a good party. the opportunity for them have one was always taken. even in rarer times when mostima was around to catch those. they didn't seem to catch their unusual guest. not that she wasn't necessarily dressed for summer, not even how she seems to have a follower by the time that the fallen was on the dance floor.

she was moving, fluidly. a young woman could be seen as her temporary partner, the sounds of flirting and pressing up against the fallen with something in her eye that suggested she wanted more. maybe a drink, perhaps to be taken alone somewhere more quiet as music pulses through the air. unfortunately for her, mostima proved to be too frustrating in how her expression contorts from being pleased to irritation until she was properly rejected. that didn't mean mostima was done, though. she was patient. it almost seemed like she did this intentionally, from how her other temporary partners were women that she caught the attention of.

none of them got as far as they'd like until she catches the arm of someone familiar, she was waiting. taking it in her soft and this time ungloved hands with her perpetual smile.)

Didn't think you would leave without a chance at a dance, did you?

(oh, those other women must have realized mostima wasn't intending to do anything with them after they glanced in their direction. she was waiting on shizuru, and almost seemed to be suggesting something in the comfort she displayed at flirting while maintaining her distance from them getting too far. almost as if she wanted her to see it, but that couldn't be it.

it honestly wasn't, it was only something she thought would catch her attention quicker. the only things that were on purpose was her dancing with them and eventually catching her "stalker". an amusement for her, although it wasn't one entirely, despite her more....casual relationship with the idea of sex.)

[It isn't the summer heat.

It isn't, but Shizuru is beginning to doubt that she's not losing her mind chasing a beautiful mirage.

Rather than the kiss itself, it was the girl who made it memorable. In a bizarre way, the kiss and the money paid for it were the only aspects that felt true and tangible— even if the sensation on her lips had faded and the payment was promptly put to its intended use. None of the council members had any idea, not about the generous donation behind the tea they're enjoying, nor about where the mind of their reliable president drifts off to whenever the discussions become more mundane.

Where does she look? How does she even begin to search?

Even after deciding that she must, all she could really come up with was paying more attention to disturbances around the school. Yet the devil-tailed girl was nowhere to be found wherever Orphans reared their heads— maybe she was on the wrong track?

Funny that, in the end, their first meeting away from the booth was a scuffle with some petty thugs, would-be thieves who fell like they were nothing around the smiling figure. She was the "victim," not them— but Shizuru still kept the blade of her polearm trained against her neck. What was she, anyway? But there were no answers to be had, not even the chance to pose the question. Her mirage disappeared with a wink, leaving Shizuru standing over a pile of foolish boys, her expression marred by confusion.

She used whatever distractions she could while her mind worked endlessly to piece together this fragmented mystery. The summer festival held locally should have been enough of a reprieve. Warm lights, colorful yukata, and the sizzling scents carried upon the warm air— all of them plenty enough to fill the senses. Alas, not enough to completely distract. Shizuru thinks, at first, that she imagines her, weaving through the crowds and idling near the food stands. Wordlessly, she breaks from her group and follows, keeping a distance lest her target vanish into thin air again. This time, she doesn't approach straight away, watching with interest as she engages a group of excitable children.

Not a monster, not anything indiscriminately dangerous— but that still didn't explain what she is. Again, just when Shizuru gets close enough to make contact, she loses the girl beneath the warm glow of the lanterns. No one she asks knows her name, and she feels no closer to quelling her curiosity than when she began this hunt.

This was getting ridiculous, no?

Though, really, it's more ridiculous is that Shizuru is still in pursuit.

It's well after bedtime, the dorm residents fast asleep for the most part. Shizuru elects to patrol quietly, keeping an eye out for either her mirage or any errant Orphans who'd need to be dealt with. It's just her luck— or is it?— that she finds the former well on the outskirts of campus. Oddly enough, the girl wasn't alone, accompanied by an equally-strange looking young woman. Following them could be dangerous, right? But Shizuru puts it far from her mind as she follows at a distance, listening to their admittedly amusing banter. They seemed close— and thus her mirage becomes a bit more real, a bit more anchored.

But then, the two of them separate for some reason. In truth, Shizuru doesn't think too hard on why, and she clearly has no intention of following the companion. Her eyes follow Mostima, who drifts towards a building that hums with thumping music. A club, no doubt. Not exactly Shizuru's scene, but her curiosity is getting the better of her.

Though not in her uniform, she isn't exactly dressed for the club. All of the bodies moving and dancing around her lend to a different kind of heat. The music has even the air feeling like it's pulsing with some sort of primal energy. It's a far cry from what Shizuru normally enjoys, traditional music and a more tranquil scenery. And yet, something about being here taps into the searching part of her, the part she smothers every chance she gets. No one knows her, here. They don't who she's supposed to be, they have no idea of the rigid rules she imposes upon her own heart.

In this place, life vibrates with a manner of freedom that almost makes her uncomfortable. So why doesn't she turn back?

There she is. Beneath the flashing colors that split through the otherwise dimly lit club, Shizuru sees her. Her heart thumps in time with the heavy rhythm as she watches the young woman pressed against by another, flirting and dancing easily along to the beat. Strange, how Shizuru can't take her eyes off her— the fluidity of the way she moves her body, the way she magnetizes women whenever she pries herself from a partner as soon as she tires of her.

She's free and she's beautiful, and the sight of it all confounds Shizuru like nothing else.

That's it— this place is a den where inhibitions need not exist. It's the antithesis of everything Shizuru tries so hard to contain. She doesn't belong here, does she? And yet, she finds it so hard to take her leave. The crowd sways around her and she allows it, wanting to find the exit again despite the flow carrying her everywhere but.

For a brief moment, she loses her target— but she feels like she's losing herself, too, the thumping music pulsing through her limbs, bodies dancing close against her, faces half-obscured by the colorful lights erratically glowing overhead. There has to be a way out, her mind seems to desperately demand— her body, on the other hand, is strangely content with remaining here.

Just as she turns, hoping to make her way towards one of the walls to catch her breath, regain composure, leave, Shizuru feels a hand encircle her arm and pull her back to the dance floor.

It's that splendid mirage, claiming her, and Shizuru realizes that this is always how it was going to end.]

To think you'd consider me over your line of admirers…

[She smiles in return, though there's the faintest mixture of strain and exhilaration beneath, if one was keen enough to discern it. Likewise, her tone is pleasant, if not the most gently accusing, an observation of how easily Mostima attracted so much physical attention.

It's dangerous, no? This place, where the woman she pursues seems to feel at home. And now, ensnared like this, the chances of a clean escape have become exceptionally slim.]

(beautiful mirage, lonesome devil, what a woman this is. she waited. she knew that she was followed, she even knows that she's attractive as shizuru pointed out. those admirers, they sought to fill a void that she wasn't so willing to fulfill right now. what she was after is something else, what had caught her attention. this isn't the scene of one, the pulsing of loud music and freedom. mostima almost seems to know, when the reality was that she didn't know. there's something to be said in her mannerisms, how she leads this dance almost like she were protecting this girl. in a place like this, it's better if she did. nobody had to know her reasoning for it, not even who or what they were in a place that was better suited for one-night stands and romantic encounters that would soon be forgotten.

this girl? mostima can presume by her nature alone that she wasn't here for those, despite how mesmerized she seems to be with the fallen's arms comfortably keeping her close. a loose hold, meant to allow her to leave if shizuru felt too uncomfortable herself. it was better she chose somewhere public, somewhere that they might not be able to have an altercation at without drawing attention to themselves while the fallen thinks to herself that this young woman must truly be out of her depth.

making a choice to follow her here, but she doesn't say anything about it. a beautiful mirage, as the heat feels so real from her body against shizuru's own. those blue eyes, they seem so powerful. piercing through anything they look at, like she sees through them. that constant smile, it edges into amusement. what is she, oh, what is this woman if nothing more than something that would hurt those who stray too near to her.

she hears the strain of exhilaration, the accusatory gentle tone to her voice. mostima doesn't make it a habit to flirt and sleep around, but she could even be assumed to have her moments. is this what being free means? that's a question better left for shizuru to find the answer to. one that mostima won't answer for her, freedom could mean many things and some were not as good as others in her almost protective hold on this girl.)

Does it matter? I wasn't waiting on them.

(she really wasn't, so shizuru could take that as an honor that she wasn't interested in them. not in leading them away to some corner, some part of this club to show a pleasure that shouldn't be so easily granted. it's too casual, how she would do something like touch a woman, give them something as close as filling voids of their own that would never be closed. she wasn't the one to do that. not for them, not for anyone from what she feels, what she knows true for herself in decision to never allow herself to let anyone come too close.

she's dangerous, but it didn't matter. they're dancing now, keeping far away those that might undoubtedly reach for shizuru and what fragile remains of her mask she clings to. it wouldn't be fine to her if they did break her apart. not when the fallen feels something in her that suggests keeping shizuru safe for her own good.

if only for now, until that day that mostima might, sadly, hurt her too for coming too close to what she guards. to that heart of hers she formed the highest of walls and canyon around.)

You shouldn't be here, you know~. Not everyone is nice enough to let a lone girl be alone.

(her voice is low, not letting anyone else catch what she's saying beneath the music. they didn't need to know she's dancing with a student. hell, they also didn't need to know that mostima was keen on ensuring she got out safely later. before she might disappear, somewhere far away from her own hands and gentle mask. it's almost saddening, but that's simply how life goes at times without their say in the matter.

what a curious girl, though mostima keeps it to herself.)

Or should I start to change my mind, consider you something of a bad girl yourself that can't help herself?

(is that on the nose? who knows, it almost carries a tone of self deprecation to it. like something to be said more about mostima than shizuru, but she won't explain herself. not even any further beyond what's offered on the surface.)

Edited 2025-09-06 01:38 (UTC)

[Instinct compels her as she follows in this dance, though it's an instinct that Shizuru had never thought she'd ever pay much heed to. The heavy rhythm makes her entire body hum— though maybe the arms that loosely encircle her body might find themselves contributors to the excitement that courses through her veins, as well. They're comfortable, perhaps too comfortable considering the game of cat and mouse that they've been playing up until now, but Shizuru doesn't feel particularly hurried to squirm her way out of them.

Her steps are uncertain at first, but not entirely clumsy. She can give credit to her partner, who moves easily enough that swaying against her doesn't take much thought. Furthermore, the crowds of fellow clubgoers push up against, and retreat from, around them, creating an ebb and flow of closer contact and respectable distance.

It feels as if more people have flooded the dancefloor since Mostima trapped Shizuru in for a dance— they're not going to be leaving anytime soon, it seems. Maybe she ought to make herself as comfortable as she can manage, as well. There's a fleeting moment of hesitation before Shizuru carefully drapes her arms over the shoulders of the slightly taller woman. Likewise, her own hold is loose enough not to overstep any boundaries, but if courtesy was the name of the game, they wouldn't be dancing together in this lair of decadence to begin with.]

I'm flattered, truly.

[An honor, nonetheless, though there's a wryness to her smile that seems so say, 'You were waiting for me, and yet I was the one chasing you this entire time.'

Of course, there's no way that Shizuru would be brandishing her Element in such close quarters and around so many unsuspecting people. Yes, location and crowds aside, there's still the lantern-bathed memory of this enigmatic woman carrying herself with a manner that was almost personable, lingering in Shizuru's mind.

Violence isn't the answer for this time and place— though what exactly the answer is, remains to be determined.

Her mind, still scrambling for control, finds its grip on this effort slipping, the heat from her partner's body grooving against her own and the intent way her eyes bore into her own daring to dismantle even her best defenses.]

Ah, I do feel rather out of place here— can you keep this a secret?

[Indeed, this place is rather dangerous, isn't it? And the way that her elusive mirage speaks to her, almost secretive beneath the music, almost seems to imply that Mostima knows that she is a dangerous one, as well.

But Shizuru is no fool, hardly the wide-eyes innocent despite her inexperience in this kind of scene. Danger continues to approach her whether she likes it or not— she can't afford to let it get the better of her, now.]

After all, you had called me a 'good girl' once before— I'd appreciate it very much if I didn't shatter that image for you.

[She gives a small laugh at her own self-deprecating remark, finding it amusing and bizarre all the same that they're conversing in a place like this, touching each other even more than their brief kiss had commanded.

Will Shizuru get her answers tonight? The air around them, between them, throbs with the beat of the song blaring through the speakers. Perhaps she should try her luck while she has her this close— or perhaps she ought to wait, feel out the right moment with her body than with her racing mind.]

(she's slow, considerably so. her movements are free, fluid, and careful as if thoughtfully reminding herself that one of them isn't so used to these things. not allowing herself freedom, especially not in how mostima is keeping other club goers from straying too closely. the elusive mirage, the danger she promises, it's a different sort of danger that most might not take kindly to. the kind of danger that being free may offer. her expression of herself, what sort of person is she? she's willing to allow shizuru to leave if she felt overwhelmed. even to walk her out of there from how relaxed she is.

she isn't an orphan, that should be evident in many of her mannerisms. what she is, is something else entirely. mostima is an enigma, so easily escaping the grasp of others and what understanding they have of her. she doesn't fit in anywhere, there and not there. seen, not seen. disappearing like her existence is beyond normal humans. unusual, but so beautiful. attention worthy, the sway of her hips and her hands rest without moving against shizuru's hips.

nothing more forward, but enough to suggest to others she wasn't keen on letting go or trading partners.

it's obvious, shizuru isn't as innocent as she might look, but someone had to be the adult for a change, and it might as well be mostima. the worst choice, surely, though it wasn't stopping her from keeping an eye on this girl. she's flattered by this little choice. her decision and knowing that she had someone that desired to meet her. someone who needed answers. answers that might not leave those pretty lips of hers, that kissed her with a chasteness she didn't usually have.)

Sure, I'd say to stay near me for your own good.

(for once, it's of the benefit to another person to do that. her smile and how at ease it is, the way it still hasn't met her eyes must be so peculiar. but it doesn't stop the intensity of her gaze, could she see through so much more than she would have ever said? nobody knows. mostima doesn't, everything she does and notices is simply what happens. she's perceptive, she knows how to play stupid and even keep from those demanding answers everything that they seek from her. those who let go of this enigma, this beautiful mirage who keeps a protective hold on a girl who knew not what she got herself into.

it's only fitting, they don't give them a second glance now. her admirers had moved on to trying their luck elsewhere, while mostima? well. she's not going to assume shizuru would want what they were after. there's a stark difference in chasing thrills and letting oneself be "free", isn't there? now might be one such time of many in the life of this fallen angel who was keeping too many secrets to herself.)

Perish the thought, you don't have to worry about that whether it's in a place like this or not. People can still be good even if they do bad things, not everyone should suffocate themselves into being perfect.

(not that it's experience talking, she's gone through enough sights and meeting people in her travels it gives a bit of insight. struggles that they faced were always different, but mostima's own was nowhere near theirs oftentimes. it's a matter of thinking about oneself. if someone were to hold themselves as being a machine or something along those lines, then it stands for some to believe they'll break themselves to pieces for never allowing perfection to remain out of their hands.

she isn't a perfectionist herself, not in the way of holding tightly on to things that shouldn't be. what she is, she's something different. allowing herself often to act in ways that nobody else would dream of, or perhaps even won't allow themselves like putting on display there's something more to this life they try to embrace as their solitary path. she's an odd woman, she's a mirage, and she's a lone devil wandering without a home. without anything that should be called her own.)

What matters more is how you should perceive it, not how others should perceive you.

(her casual tone is almost airy again, dancing around both figurative and literal. what kind of dance is this? it's like offering someone an out while maintaining her own space to suggest that there's more than that. it didn't need shizuru to realize the meaning of her words offered, but it's something for another time and another place to be considered from mostima's recollection of how she seems to be hiding something more.

she knows it, she knows it too well. she's done the same thing as her often enough, for the good of others as they suggest. that's great, but what about the person carrying such a large burden? there is no way around it. it's something meant to destroy those who are unfortunate enough to tell themselves that they would be fine. that nothing would ever be able to reach them. it's hubris. hubris that mostima knows from her mind being similar in that regard.)

Not that I'd call myself much of a "good girl", personally. That's simply how things goes.

(now calling other girls that, that's another story.)

Edited 2025-09-06 17:44 (UTC)

[For your own good, Mostima says, and it doesn't fail to inspire a deeper amusement within Shizuru's smile.

Her eyes tear away from her partner's while their bodies remain connected, their rhythm slowly falling further in sync, and she glances around the crowded dancefloor. Human features blip in and out of proper visibility, the colorful lights above carrying on in their own dance as they tease the identities of those below. Shizuru doesn't recognize a single soul— all the better, for it means that no one would be recognizing her, either.

The song changes, the beat shifting and the crowd shifting seamlessly along with it without ceasing their dance. In this transitory moment, Shizuru's attention focuses on the hands upon her hips, that tighten ever so slightly whenever she's being drawn away from those more inclined to cozy up more closely to total strangers.

When Shizuru returns her attention to the woman in her arms, she can see that her expression is as unreadable as ever, strangely maintained while the tiny world around them visibly gives into their overindulgence. Are these others truly so treacherous? They're honest if anything, no? They're here, in this place, because they know what they want and know that it's easy enough to obtain it.

Though Shizuru's desires aren't entirely aligned, is she truly so different? Because she, too, had stepped into this lair with her own objective— but ended up swept up in ways that were undoubtedly testing her resolve.

For my own good, Shizuru ponders, still smiling. Are you the safest person here, or the most dangerous, I wonder?

But she'll tread carefully, instead, measuring each step so as to keep this enigma from slipping through her fingers again. A dance for answers, a dance for a mere name— Shizuru can certainly afford this price, if that's what it takes.]

You'll be my protector, here? Though I'm sure you're well aware that I can handle myself just fine.

[She hasn't forgotten about putting her blade to Mostima's neck that time. Shizuru doesn't think that her partner has forgotten, either, or has even forgiven her for it. Of course, she has every intention of expressing her sincerest regrets once some of the other confusions are cleared up— ah, that sounds rather cold and transactional, doesn't it?

It catches her off guard, the almost benevolent advice that Mostima then offers easily beneath the pulsing music. Another thread of philosophy that feels bizarrely out of place in this club. It gives Shizuru the uneasy sense of being seen— is that what this strange, devilish woman sees with those striking eyes? A girl suffocating under her own limitations?

How shameful.]

But doesn't the opposite hold true, just as well?

[That even a thousand good deeds wouldn't be able to cleanse a stained heart. Shizuru, of course, won't elaborate any further— not that her omission isn't obvious on its own.]

I'm surprised— your outlook on morality is surprisingly refreshing. Forgive me.

[How deeply has this mirage of a woman lived between the lines of 'good' and 'bad'? Now that is an answer Shizuru doesn't expect to ever receive— they step past the shallows, for now, but that doesn't mean that their conversations are certain to yield the substance that would put the president's mind at east.

Mostima talks of self-perception taking precedence over external judgments— Shizuru's blithely-given remark could very likely be considered just what she thinks of herself with regards to this talk of black and white and shades of gray.

In this place, where inhibitions crumble with every thump of the rhythm, these two still have their pride and their secrets.]

(while these people are honest, mostima knows too well, overindulgence is a treacherous thing. people become warped in the face of it, unable to allow themselves some manner of respite while claiming that it all is theirs. the truest of enemies for humans. for people like them who dance in this den of sinful desires. there is no turning back from indulging too much, not the monster that it can make someone. hadn't she (mostima), seen it happen before with the sin of greed and all that it brings one fateful day?

the gun was pointed at one man, he took one that was dear to her hostage. the shot would be heard, and later, mostima seen no longer the same as she once was. exiled. abandoned, told she was no longer welcomed in a homeland that feels less and less like she had belonged in her time away.

she never belonged. as depressing as the notion is, she did not belong.

belonging in itself was some further away for a being like her, but that's nothing on the table for discussion. nothing that she would like to talk about when it comes to herself. they had more pressing matters to attend to, like this dance they found themselves involved in. the sway of hips, mostima's hands keeping a protective hold on shizuru while glancing at anyone that comes too close with a sort of look that speaks volumes. rejection, without saying it.

they didn't need to interrupt, not as the music carries on the beat. something meant to make the guests move, move their bodies back and forth. maybe grind against a lucky partner for their evening while hoping something more than a simple dance.

how different it is, depressing the way that some might take advantage of it. filling voids in their lives, their hearts. hoping for a bit of love in all the wrong places while not realizing how much they destroy themselves. she didn't need that, that's what mostima tells herself. love, she didn't need it. not companionship, not friendship, and not family. that's what she's thought often to herself.

she offers a wry smile, no, she hadn't forgotten about that blade that almost met her neck. mostima knows it, this girl can handle herself. however, this isn't somewhere a young lady like herself would know. the danger of it is different from fighting monsters or two-bit thugs. this is a hive of sin, of people seeking sinful delights and more than that in lust.)

I will be, yes. I am aware, but it isn't so easy as taking out a weapon. Not every person takes no for an answer, and not everyone has good intentions in mind for lonesome girls in a place like this.

(what she hints at should be obvious, she means the things people do when they want something. want something that rejects them, or perhaps even something that isn't supposed to be theirs in the first place. anyone can fall prey to those people, but she doesn't seem to care if shizuru treats it like something transactional once the air is cleared.

but her words, those weren't given with bad intentions. it's an interesting sort of advice, not many people realize it or accept it for themselves. that's only fact for all humans to be prideful, mostima? even she's a prideful creature when she wants to be.

she doesn't call it shameful, she only notes that it feels almost oppressive. the air around shizuru, does she not show herself kindness, like some people she's met on the road?)

Perhaps. But that doesn't change much, perception is interesting. Some might condemn, others adore. If someone cares despite such deeds, isn't that also enough?

(she doesn't ask, not for her to elaborate. she has a guess or two about why, it isn't her place to pry when someone isn't willing to give answers so soon.)

Hmm? No forgiveness needed, I'm an unusual case, as you can see~.

(she's had time to think about it, too much time to consider to herself how morality can be suffocating if one sticks to one belief. then again, she won't lie and say that she isn't incapable of misdeeds and cruelties of her own. mostima, she's done that too often.

what she notices is what she speaks about, offering little to suggest she knows or can assume more than she lets on. the fallen only goes off of what her own perception is of people. in this case, it's shizuru and how she almost seems to be drowning herself.)

If you allow the weight of it all to crush you, it only hurts your loved ones or so I believe.

(just like her, who often does the same.)

[Desire hums in the bodies dancing to the pounding beat, the air itself grows thick with a primitive craving that only seems to intensify with the burgeoning heat from the sheer energy upon the dancefloor.

Not even Shizuru is immune to the permeating passions, her curious eyes lingering upon a pair that holds each other a bit too tightly. It makes her heart beat more quickly, the sweat beading at the back of her neck, and when she looks back at the woman in her arms— the woman who deters any curious would-be partners with a sharp, wordless rejection— the odd sensation that she can't parse doesn't abate.

Every single person here dances to unburden themselves from the troubles of the outside world, don't they? Some move to forget their heartbreak, their frustrations, their mistakes— some dance because it is only here that they can fully feel their greed and their hunger without limitations. And there are those who dance because, unified like this beneath the same lights and within the same pulsing rhythm, they can finally feel like they belong.

But do the two of them belong— Shizuru with her buried troubles and her pretty enigma with her half-given riddles?

Like with everything concerning Mostima, it's difficult for Shizuru to come to an accurate conclusion. She certainly seems comfortable here, very much the type who adapts with ease to the point of giving the impression that she does belong. Curious, though, how she rejects it at the same time— the way she denied her earlier partners when they wanted to anchor her down further with them in what likely was some manner of debauchery. She allowed herself to get close enough until the last possible second, warm flirting and close contact, before her mind swiftly changed and she became tired of this little game and the players who tried to engage her.

Shizuru witnessed it all, tried to make sense of it, and realized that she couldn't. For herself, the reasons why she didn't belong here were obvious. But for someone who willingly chose this place, who chose to play the role of the enthusiastic partier, Mostima still carried herself like she was merely passing through.

Perhaps in a strange way, it makes Shizuru feel a little safer, that she isn't in danger of getting swept up in something far too devious. Her partner has the same thought in mind, it seems, the way she insinuates that the president would be easy prey for someone with less than innocent intentions for someone who is so painfully out of place.]

Do I stand out that much? I didn't come here with the purpose of being lonesome.

[But that makes it sound like she might have been trying to lose herself here with someone— something very much not the case. Shizuru had crossed the threshold of this place out of curiosity, because the mirage she had been chasing made herself corporeal as she danced with women who projected their desires onto her. A strange sight, one she couldn't take her eyes away from.

Shizuru would have left promptly were it not for the crowd, or Mostima drawing her back from escaping with that cryptic smile of hers. It seems as though this woman had no intention of letting Shizuru remain a lonesome girl in this place, either.]

Thank you for taking care of me.

[This politeness seems sweetly out of place in this hive of loose morals, but the two of them are in their own world anyway, conversing about virtues and vices instead of seeking out a more wordless connection. It is sincere, nevertheless, her gratitude, even as she grows more comfortable swaying against Mostima. She feels like she's straddling the line of something that could become very contradictory, but if she flees now, this would all be for naught, wouldn't it?

And she isn't having a terrible time, even when she's shoved against her partner when another clubgoer carelessly bumps into them.

Shizuru glances their way with slight exasperation, then back at Mostima apologetically before putting a bit of distance between the two of them again.]

Some might say that perception is everything.

[It is to Shizuru, whose life hinges on how she carries herself in her social circles. She allows herself the little freedoms, teasing moments with very few, but she makes sure to do what needs to be done in order for her reliability to remain unquestioned. It fulfills her, to be counted on. Were the perception of her to be challenged, especially by mistakes of her own making, then all of this loses its meaning, doesn't it?]

A person who would look past 'such deeds,' as you say, would have to be a saint, wouldn't they? Perhaps even an angel.

[Funny, if she broached such a topic with Sister Yukariko, Shizuru is almost certain of exactly how this conversation would go— with enough repentance, enough prayer, enough guilt, any sin can be forgiven.

But that's not true. And so she'll keep her sins to herself.]

There are people who are stronger than they look— the weight of the burden is best suited for their shoulders.

[She makes this declaration with a firm resolve in her otherwise gentle voice.

Even if she is unaware of the weight that Mostima might be shouldering, herself, Shizuru can only speak of what she knows and what she accepts for her own path.]

Loved ones need not worry— that's the point, isn't it?

[And she doesn't conceal it, the almost defeated way she asks this rhetorical question. It doesn't matter, no one else is bothering to listen to them too closely. At the very least, she feels more liberated to feel these emotions a bit more honestly in this place.]

…You truly are an unusual one.

[For a multitude of reasons— her almost otherworldly beauty that the president can't make sense of, her smile whose amusement isn't reflected in those striking eyes, her interest in Shizuru of all people. And for permitting herself to finally be caught in this place, this den of desires where she seems to thrive, a place where Shizuru is out of her element.]

I hope that, at least, you've enjoyed the chase.

Admittedly, yes. I understand your intentions, but not many take no for an answer when they catch someone like you in a place like this.

(while some flirt away, demand the attention of their would be lovers and more than that, mostima has no such intentions. what her intentions are, they're something more or less different than what a normal club goers might be. some would use it as a chance, sweep a girl off her feet that's a fish out of water and enchant her themselves while leaving with nothing more said or done. to some a night is enough, a night of passion and romanticism that they might never express again to anyone in their lives.

mostima doesn't belong. not in this place, not in this world. she's an enigma, an oddity with such a pretty smile even as it never felt real. a beautiful face as some find it to be such a shame they could never anchor her and keep her in place for whatever desires. she doesn't think about it, not about what could have been while she carries on. what an oddity that she is, this enigma who once had been an angel and walked the streets with a bright halo and wings.

a familiar voice speaks to her in her mind, asking if she intends to do as she usually might. taking a pretty girl elsewhere. pretending for a time that normalcy isn't so far from her hands, then disappearing before morning comes. she doesn't belong, but neither does shizuru. that smile isn't normal, the way it reaches something more detached than warm. when was the last time she did smile? what about the last time she found herself drawn in by someone who seemed so out of place herself while saying she isn't?

but she doesn't give out her name, she doesn't make a declaration of who she is or what she is. that voice, the voice of a being that can be considered frightening. godlike, destructive, it asks her things about this present meeting. questioning and wondering what her intentions could be while writing it off as being another whim of mostima's in a place like this. they both know, there is no chance of anything normal. love is something nobody sane would risk pursuing her of all people over. nothing good would come of it.

not of what she thought was something strange, a curiosity that spells nothing good in itself, too. an interest in how she attention is on someone who hides her true self and acts as if, in reality, doing good is what makes her.

there's a difference in feeling wanted and needed, a difference in doing everything in one's power to never lose that high. so, to her, mostima thinks of such reasoning's as bullshit. not in the eyes of those that are truly innocent, those poor souls who are naive would one day lose their sunshine and warmth. what else could happen to them? not everyone is strong enough to be protected forever from crushing realities and the things that would take away everything precious one by one. sometimes even all at once, it mattered little as reality loved drama and to crush dreams of those young and hoping for more.)

You don't have to thank me.

(shizuru didn't have to. this was purely by mostima's own choice she does it, she doesn't pay attention to the couples clinging a little too closely. not to some and their sensual movements out of the corner of her eye, they all were trying to forget something. not think, it was expected that they'd all do whatever was in their power as they carry on their lives outside this lonesome club. it doesn't deserve much thought.

though mostima wasn't surprised, not by one person deciding to knock them closer. the woman wasn't paying them any attention, she was carelessly moving and almost reckless. like the floor is her own. not someone mostima would find herself drawn to, the closeness and warmth only causes her to shrug at shizuru's little apology. it wasn't intended, not by her, they both were fine in the eyes of this unusual woman who was dancing with a young lady like herself.

they don't belong, perhaps, but she listens along without paying the other patrons attention any longer again.)

Perhaps, but there comes a point where allowing yourself to be held back by it isn't worth it. Being free. Regrets might be plenty, but letting oneself be never free....I'd say that's the worst of them all. Not the way they are in this club, obviously.

(because freedom and perception go hand in hand, don't they? the things she says are less than normal for a hedonistic den of pleasure and sin. a conversation that nobody would be having if they were sober, but she speaks about it without a natural ease in her words. what is she thinking about, what is she capable of while imparting words and truths of her own that are never spoken? she hides it too well, mostima does. it's almost perfect in how she maintains this mask and more than that for herself.

but she knows, saints are something that don't happen out of nowhere. angels? it's ironic, she used to be one. she knows these things too well, religion is something that she was raised on with gun in hand and more than that. guns, emotions that were so easily read by others, and time spent with those important to her before that day itself had come. this is experience that comes from being well traveled and seeing more than her once narrow view of the world itself.

sins are nothing given easily out, regrets, and more than that. she knows better than to ask further than that.)

Aren't they the ones that need the support the most?

(of course they do, they're loved and cherished.

they need it, the support. some might never allow themselves to lay down that burden were it not for those who dare try to get someone to rest after running themselves ragged for so long. strength is something that helps, but mostima is good at keeping her own burdens steady and forward.)

I get that a lot, as someone that often stands out in her own way.

(she doesn't allow anyone to catch her, not the way she did shizuru for her curiosity to be satisfied. as far as it might go, but that is another topic for another time.)

Hmm? Don't worry. It was an interesting change of pace.

(her laugh, how jarringly....carefree it sounds, despite the way her smile and amusement doesn't connect. whatever is she? she is no orphan, but she's something else that would be considered worrisome. her tail is slow to sway beneath her jacket again, maintaining a hiding spot while her horns are kept hidden away beneath the jacket hood.

she might get some answers, but everything will only bring more questions.)

[It's true, perhaps Shizuru's thanks are unnecessary here. Yet, Mostima's breezy warning gives something away, all the same— the slightest implication that she might even worry about what could happen to this out-of-place young woman were she to fall into the wrong hands. Shouldn't that merit thanks, as well? That the whims of this striking oddity aren't purely self-serving, that Shizuru might even be the safest right here in the arms of someone, something just a touch devilish.

A brief look crosses her face, a smile that adopts a curious hint of playfulness as she considers that, in a way, she was the one who caught Mostima in 'a place like this.' But despite that, Shizuru would have no choice but to accept her target's refusal to give away anything that she deems Shizuru unworthy of. She knows, from the fleeting instances when their orbits had overlapped, that all that she's been given are enigmatic smiles and the atmosphere touched by a presence that slips out of sight in the blink of an eye.

Dancing with this mystery, feeling that she's truly real beneath her touch— it's a privilege, isn't it? Something that she shouldn't have, something that shouldn't exist. A mirage amidst the heat of a hundred bodies, a hallucination that betrays nothing while amusing itself in the pursuit.

Of course, she isn't privy to the words that only Mostima can hear, its questions and musings as it watches the hooded woman entertain a rather silly pursuer. No matter, Shizuru's mind has its own host of murmurs, questions and cautions buzzing about as the rhythms shift. This strange woman will vanish come the dawn, there is no doubt about it. It would be a shame, another regret piled upon the many that exist, to not get her answers somehow, right?

All this talk of freedom and the tragedy of excessive self-restraint— whatever might this pretty riddle be hinting at? Surely she doesn't think she has the keys to every meticulous lock that Shizuru keeps her real self secured beneath. Ah, but perhaps she has no need, perhaps those cryptic, unsmiling eyes already see the blights and where Shizuru's defenses have been pulled too taut already, close to snapping.]

It's enough to make one envious, no? How easy some people make it seem to relieve themselves of their troubles. I can't see a single regret on their faces.

[She doesn't bother casting glances around her, at the other dancers in their own worlds. She doesn't need to, to see that she's right. It would only prove that she can't help but remain acutely aware of everything around her, rather than setting herself free.

'The worst of them all,' Mostima says, as if she's read Shizuru from cover to cover. Must that be what she thinks of her? When she laughs, there's a marked lack of mirth, this time, the discomfort of feeling caught, herself, creeping in beneath where Mostima's hands rest upon her hips.]

Won't you tell me—? [ because she wants to know, has to walk out of here with something, a sliver of clarity gleaned from this beautiful fog of mystery ] —will you be leaving here with fewer burdens, after tonight? I would hate to keep you from pursuing your own freedom.

[Because one of them ought to, no? Even if neither of them are hurrying to separate themselves, Shizuru's arms still draped over Mostima's shoulders and her eyes still taking advantage of their closeness to peer beneath the shadows cast over the other's features by the hood that she sports. She wants to, almost does, draw away the fabric from around her face. To see her better, to relieve her of what must be an uncomfortable heat— whatever it is, the rationale doesn't quite settle on something concrete. But Shizuru feels a strange chill, the hesitation keeping her hand hovering over the hem of the fabric. She lets her hand rest at the junction of her partner's neck and shoulder instead.]

I admit, I've had my share of enjoyment from this— even if you are a vexing one to catch. The perils of 'standing out,' wouldn't you say?

[All the same, Mostima was the one who approached the president first, no matter how their little game had switched the roles. Shizuru was a casualty of this so-called peril, as well. She just doesn't know how concerning of a situation she might be falling into, not yet.

There must be some purpose to the ripples that this peculiar woman delights in creating within the life of someone who tirelessly works to maintain the tranquility.

Shizuru wouldn't know— the moment her hands reach beneath the surface to get her answers, is when everything will become irreversibly disturbed.]

(isn't it funny? the least expected person can notice these details, she knows them and didn't have to say much. what she speaks of is that insistently holding on to that soul crushing burden and mask is a bigger regret in itself by not allowing herself freedom. if she didn't allow some reprieve, a respite, it's only going to destroy her one day without it being intended as a result of shizuru's tightly held everything. but she doesn't say it, not the obvious part, and it almost seems that she notices the way that this girl reaches for her jacket hood. how she hesitates with those pretty hands of hers, did she wish to know something she'd never give the answer to?

the heat doesn't faze her, it doesn't faze that enigmatic smile and how mostima almost seems to be slow about her steps. almost languid, did this girl know what it is that she reaches for? humans are interesting things, the voice says to her, while observing them in its own way. a wordless acknowledgment is given as she dances with this girl, the shifting of her steps something of a perfect sync with the other's own while she mulls this over to teach her better.

the questions, the things about if she might leave unburdened. mostima knows, she stands out. never fitting in while fitting in at the same time by appearances alone, able to pretend and pass herself off as being there the whole time while their bodies move together. if shizuru reaches for it, her jacket's hood, it's better she didn't do that here. not with certain risks that accompany it, and the fallen is almost certain that she'd attract more attention than this beautiful girl who caught her attention with her mannerisms. her attempt at seeming so normal, when the reality is further from that.

her lead is gentle. those thoughtful steps which avoid the other patrons, the other dancers who are more fixated on their present partners. not that they'd stop mostima, not from keeping her close like a sort of protector. how strange it felt to be in that role, she wasn't so positive that she deserves to be given such lofty titles. not after what happened at the beginning of her new life, this life. this life that often gives her such a headache from the things it brings her here alone in everything it's done to the fallen for her existence.)

Mm, it's hard to argue about that with how pleased they are.

(that's the truth, she couldn't argue about that. not about how they all seem so happy to indulge. even if it's overindulgence that might be their downfalls, her attention falls back to that hand that's close to her jacket hood again. resting near, but not near it. the music itself is changing, enough that some were taking the opportunities to be closer. mostima has to wonder if she should do this, it might be fine. fiammetta can't complain if she doesn't say anything about what she is knowing that there are consequences for everything she does.

she exists, so she carries those by proxy. beautiful, a mystery, and an enigma that most would go mad chasing after. they wouldn't know what is there before them, not even if they tried to have some manner of grasp on the reality that something more than humans or orphans exists.

so, she's slow. slow about where she leads shizuru, away from prying eyes and ears, toward one of the empty rooms. she's gotten the idea of what this girl wants to see without intending to. it's only fitting that she gives it to her, without saying what she is and without ever answering, if at all, what this beautiful enigma is before her. the patrons don't notice, not when mostima opens the door behind her quietly, and especially not when she releases her hold on shizuru once they're inside. this was better, better while she takes a seat on the sofa inside.)

I like to think I will. (but she doesn't let her gaze leave the other girl, she relaxes. almost like she's waiting for something, for what would cause that tranquility to shatter the moment she takes that step.) Who knows, life is always that strange.

(from how she's positioned, it would be easy for her to walk up to mostima and reach to draw back that hood. releasing her full features, the horns and everything. mostima even considers doing it herself, but she muses it's better that she doesn't. the honor should go to shizuru who wants to see more of her face, perhaps even learn how beautiful this devil before her is. like the ones the sister speaks of, says that offers temptations of sinful delights.

the only problem is, she doesn't offer sinful delights, she offers something unusual in her attitude. this would go however shizuru chooses, if that step is taken....there's no going back from this knowledge. the same way that mostima would quietly leave it at that if she doesn't until that day she has to know arrives.)

I don't make myself that easy to catch~, it's fun that way.

(she's right, there is something in the chase and avoiding those after her that has a sort of entertainment to it. something that shizuru might not know about that she often does to her pursuers.

she always makes it so difficult.)

Edited 2025-09-16 06:22 (UTC)

[With the change in the music comes a palpable shift in the ambiance. The night grows late, after all, and where else might the mind drift towards, especially when the body is under the influence of such sublime feelings? It's evident what some of these clubgoers have in mind, from the way that they press all the more closely to their partners. For them, the air becomes electric with the thrill, the promise of how the night may end.

Yet for two women who are certainly outsiders in their respective ways, the atmosphere between them fluctuates in a manner all its own, as if on a separate plane from the patrons around them who indulge in a deeper connection. While the figures around them close the space between hot, thrumming bodies, Mostima instead lets their dance fade with the final notes of the song. Shizuru doesn't contest it, the bit of space put between them in the quick moments that follow, nor does she pull away when she feels the other woman begin to guide her away from the center of the dancefloor.

No one pays them any mind, of course, but Shizuru's attention is sharp, and she quickly realizes that Mostima is not leading her towards the exit of the club. Strange, her gut feeling urging her to exercise caution, while at the same time being numbed by something more… unseemly. After all, those hands haven't released her completely, and the sensation of them are the only thing she can focus on as the other patrons close in the space that the two of them left behind.

She hadn't noticed until now, the doors along one of the walls that held more private areas behind them. Where did they lead, and for what purpose? Shizuru could only imagine, given the hedonistic air within this den. The knot in her stomach only tangles even further and her heart thumps almost in sync with the fresh song playing over the speakers, the sound of it becoming dampened the moment that Mostima closes the two of them in this small lounge.

There are consequences to everything, indeed, and Mostima's musing about life being strange couldn't ring any more true than in this moment.]

I should be grateful, then. You've slowed down just enough for me to catch up.

[How comfortable she looks, seated against the supple leather, eyeing Shizuru with an ease that perhaps only someone like her would be able to master. Though, there's a flicker of expectation in those brilliant eyes, as well, and that same feeling of being seen, anticipated, comes rearing its head again within Shizuru's chest.

She lingers at the door, hesitation plain on her face under the dim lighting above. A flurry of thoughts and feelings barrage her insides, keeping her in place for several moments as she casts her eyes over the woman seated across from her. How odd, that she doesn't see that trick of the light from their first chance meeting— the tail that had caught the late afternoon sun as Mostima retreated from the booth.

If Shizuru was truly imagining that, then all of this should amount to nothing more than one large joke at her expense. But she knows, because that feeling in her stomach won't subside, that her life hasn't been free of anomalies, cruel monsters or otherwise bizarre enchantments. She lives it, daily, even if only from the shadows where none of her comrades are any the wiser.

A couple of steps forward, each one slightly more certain than the last. It isn't long until she finds herself before Mostima— ah, but looming over her like this is a touch too rude, aggressive where Shizuru would rather maintain the calm. She's so close, isn't she? So close to finding out… something. Anything. Even if this woman still speaks in vague replies, even if the two of them are only in this room because this enigma isn't bothering to run away again.

So, she takes a seat beside her on the couch. A perplexed expression graces her features— no point in hiding it, or smoothing it over. While the space here isn't inundated with excessive body heat, the temperature is still quite warm. Even in her thin sweater, Shizuru feels the sticky heat clinging to her skin. How is this woman not shrugging off her coat the first chance she gets? An idea forms, and Shizuru's fingers twitch ever so slightly, wondering if that same chill from earlier would stop her from finishing the job, this time.]

…I didn't come with the intention of doing something untoward to you.

[Does it even merit the clarification? I'm not like the others in this place, her words seem to insinuate. Well, she might consider herself worse, in fact, if only for the ways she keeps herself trapped in a loop of shameful dishonesty.]

But… [ a pause, she mulls over her next words, choosing them with care ] …my curiosity just won't be satisfied until I know why our paths keep crossing as they do.

[It's only scratching the surface of all of the questions she yearns to ask. But how many can she get away with posing to this capricious mirage, before she finds herself alone again?]

(lucky her that mostima holds no ulterior motives, this was merely to give the other girl a chance to get her head together. the atmosphere is something easy to become drunk from. some may lose themselves to it, others? they're both here, after all. she doesn't look at shizuru with lust in her eyes, nothing that speaks of hunger and desire that other patrons would have had were they alone with their chosen partners of the night. if anything, she almost seems curious more. this is a matter of consideration for what could be unveiled when shizuru may reach to do such a thing with her own two hands.

this isn't a secret that should be seen by just anyone. not what awaits her when the final step is taken, she's almost amused at the sight of her looming over the fallen before she changed course. she isn't going to put the moves on her, some might call it a waste, but this isn't something that a girl like this needed. physical things like the other patrons were doing is only temporary. it isn't worth the effort of hiding that they wanted something for a single night, but she finds herself more fixated on other things beyond a point of wanting to satisfy lust or something like that.

as nice as sex is, it wasn't everything. she doesn't attempt to question it while she leans into her seat next to shizuru. untoward? she wasn't being untoward, this was more for their mutual benefit that they don't let someone see an interesting truth tonight. one which some might label a monster, though she won't disagree with that. she's more a demon than she likes to admit. more something that nobody should have to consider exists, but there isn't any feelings of lament or regret about this precarious position mostima is in.

her only regret is what happened that day, not that she did it. despite being the sole bearer of this responsibility she carries, it's better this way than it once would have been in her mundane life as a soldier that she once lived. consequences would be something they'll be facing later, but that's simply a part of life and the things that it brings those who are living.

it's better that mostima didn't get too caught up in this orbit, but they're not able to stay separated for long in that regard. oh dear, they really did make such a beautiful mistake in the worlds they both stand within without thinking when the fallen had made this move. she kissed shizuru, she even showed her something, a part of something, that she shouldn't have. that tail was no illusion, it's even wagging beneath her jacket like a cat's own might.)

Obviously. I didn't take us in here with the intent of doing anything that you might consider "untoward", though our definitions differ.

(she did show herself willing to flirt and get close to people as she pleases, but that can be dropped on a whim if mostima decided against it. she didn't think shizuru would want to do anything that bold, they're admittedly strangers and one of them barely knows the other. she hasn't even exchanged her name yet, either. not even removed her jacket, the hood covering that pretty face shizuru is curious about with those brilliant and vivid blue eyes that are on her.

it's only fair that she did not take from her the push into these consequences they're heading into. accomplices, whatever one shall label it when someone messes with something she shouldn't have by pushing past the point of no return. erasing the knowledge of mostima's existence isn't likely, which means that shizuru when she does this will have to live with everything before her once already unusual world changing.

which is what makes mostima's decision to give her the ability to control when she gets something from her more interesting. she may not answer things, she couldn't about this state she's in, but it does give something of freedom. knowledge. remembering the story of original sin, it was always knowledge and leaning that would be the downfall of men and women. how this may go, that's truly up to the other girl whenever she feels ready to take the step forward.)

Are you sure? There are some things you cannot erase when you uncover them, as they often say among those who are religious: knowledge can be something forbidden and carry many sins of its own.

(she pulled that saying out of her ass, but that isn't so farfetched. eve had eaten forbidden fruit by temptation, this makes it no different that the devil would come and tempt another would be eve into wanting answers of her own about something so fascinating before her eyes.)

You may come out of this with more questions than answers.

(that's the truth of it, mostima might not answer anything at all aside from leaving her with more questions. she plays this game too well, she's not compared to a black box for nothing. what matters more is how shizuru would react to seeing her everything, she is hot in this jacket though she's not fazed by it. the heat was nothing compared to places she's been to during her travels.

which makes it surprising she gives such warnings, to steel expectations and not expect her to reveal things in their entirety. that is only how this devil is, dangling out an apple of her own without saying. the wordless offer of the forbidden fruit. a temptation that doesn't belong in a club like this, not even in what chaos it might bring them both for intersecting their orbits for a moment where it shall bring her the unknown.

the unknown and that which shizuru would no longer be able to control in her tranquil world any longer.)

[Their definitions differ, do they? Shizuru would almost consider it a strange remark to make, were the woman who leans more comfortably beside her not already at ease with saying the odd thing, or several. She feels something akin to fluster prickle at her heart— Shizuru's own definition is as rotten as it can be, and she almost has the mind to ask how assured Mostima truly is with that declaration of hers.

Though, it'd be a waste of a question, no? As if there were only a finite number available to Shizuru during this interlude of theirs.

Nevertheless, it's clear— despite their close contact on the dancefloor, the suggestion of anything more debauched was markedly absent. There were none of the hot and heavy caresses, like those exchanged between the couples around them. Nothing possessive in the way she held Shizuru as they danced, and even her eyes were absent of anything other than the most mild of amusements— those eyes, too, seemed to only convey that this was all a whim, even the hints of advice that she had deigned to impart upon her pursuer.

Perhaps it is that aspect of this night so far that gives Shizuru that unsettling feeling. She's so accustomed to having the pieces laid out before her, the patterns of people and their ambitions endearingly predictable most of the time, that this little game they play is far outside the bounds of what Shizuru expects, while at the same time parading as something that gives her a false sense of authority all the same.

But no, this is not a control that Shizuru wrests with her own two hands— it's something given to her, instead, and by someone who has every thread of it wrapped around her fingers to yank back when she decides that Shizuru has had enough.]

Knowledge comes at a price.

[This, she can concede to without a doubt. And it isn't the kind of price that can be paid in yen, traded over a booth upon the school grounds. It isn't any material possession she could give, not this kind of knowledge whose worth she already knows outweighs anything she might own.]

A price that can be exceptionally steep, they say, the more forbidden this knowledge may be.

[Shizuru has politely sat through enough sermons at the academy church to find her own agreement with Mostima's statement. Temptation comes for everyone, no matter how staunchly they adhere to goodness and righteousness. It's wicked, insidious, and leads even the most well-meaning hearts astray with the many faces it wears to lure in the weak.

The temptation here is… different. It isn't the same kind of torture that pulls Shizuru's heart between pure joy and depthless self-loathing. Instead, it's a plague upon her mind, this knowledge that she seeks. It lies to her, telling her that her carefully laid-out map will no longer have any unsightly detours once she has her answers. It lies because the woman beside her is correct, unbearably so— Shizuru knows that the questions will outnumber the answers.

And because of this, she knows that the price for whatever answers she does obtain will surely be her sanity.

So, she's certain, as certain as she can be when she raises her hand slowly. This time, Shizuru's nerve snuffs out the hesitation that had crept in earlier. Her fingers graze the edge of Mostima's hood before finding purchase upon the sturdy outer layer and the soft lining.]

Excuse me…

[A formality, murmured ever so politely. Manners that seem out of place when measured against the absolutely bold act she takes, slipping the hood back and lower until it settles at the base of the woman's neck. Something sturdy brushes against Shizuru's touch, and it is only until the fabric is pulled away that she sees exactly what it is— a horn, one of a pair, stark black against the sea-colored locks of hair.

For a moment, her mouth falls slightly agape as she takes in the sight. Where she thought the pieces would fall into place, instead they tumble to the ground and out of reach— it's exactly as Mostima had said, this whole thing answers far too little, one head of the hydra vanquished only for several more to crop up gleefully in its place.

She swiftly pulls her band back, and gives herself a couple of seconds to compose herself, her expression reflecting her efforts far better than the middling success that she endures inwardly. There is an urge to put a bit of distance between the two of them on this couch, but she smothers it for now.]

Well, if you are an Orphan… [ she weighs her words, giving Mostima the opportunity to confirm or deny this guess that she hazards ] …then you're certainly the loveliest one I've ever seen.

[She speaks truthfully enough, though there is understandable apprehension lurking beneath her words. What is she to make of this woman, the one who traipsed into her life one day and left confusion in her wake? And she is beautiful, to be certain, yet that beauty is almost marred by something decidedly not human.

Dangerous, how this forbidden fruit has already graced her lips, the taste brief but indelible. Has it ensnared her beyond saving, already, without her knowing?]

…No one will believe me, even if I wanted to tell someone.

[More like, even if Shizuru had someone to tell. Her real confidants are already so few, and those she would tell anything more pressing, more intimate, are firmly nonexistent.

The scales tip again, favoring the devilish woman who surely anticipated this in its entirety.]

That day, did you approach me with a purpose in mind?

[Better to just come out and ask. At the very least, it would shed a sliver of light upon some of the greater concerns hammering in her mind.]

(everything has a price, not even only knowledge, but everything in life carries such things. the devil comes with temptations that have a weight to them, a risk, something that would cause such lovely terrors and more to seem so plain. she comes with stories, tales aplenty that would make the world seem so small and distant while weaving around all that this beautiful and lonesome devil knows. there is no escaping the gaze of someone like her, someone like this who knows too much. knows too well, even, that she is not fit for humanity and everything else that may yet live beyond her. she is a devil, a fallen angel, a demon.

and in this interlude, shizuru takes the role of eve.

mostima does not react to resolve, her words, as she makes her choice. she only waits. the expectation is that she is allowed to take the steps, the fallen would not force roles on her and truths that she isn't ready to hear. shizuru is a normal girl on the surface, but she has a feeling that there's more she hasn't uncovered in seeing through this guise of hers. this mask she wears, pretending and hiding away that which she wants nobody to see before them.

an ugliness she carries. had she known what she was thinking, mostima would have pointed out she's seen worse than depravity in a club. there needn't be anything more said than that. hedonistic pleasures pale in comparison to violence and blood spilled, death before the eyes of many. she's seen that. she's seen fantastic sights, she's seen tragedy, and anger, there is no in-between to what this woman has experienced alone without reservation.

the fabric of the jacket hood is soft when shizuru takes hold of it as she offers a polite exchange of words, like apologizing for what she demands or must see to know what is beneath this mask. so she waits, she watches as the jacket hood falls back to reveal the frightening sight for humans and those holy. a devil, a demon, walking among humanity like nothing fazes her in the delights she offers to them all for trying to keep up with her.

the black horn she brushed her fingers against is sturdy, real, they stick out so obviously against deep blue strands of hair. shall they call an exorcist? demand a church to erase her, though, that would be amusing. she isn't something spoken about in the bible, despite being a devil and realer than some might have expected from the good church. she doesn't waste time, not in her arm resting atop the sofa they're seated on together and leaning a cheek into her fist. she looks so serene, so calm.

does anything faze her? it's almost a matter of debate before mostima decides she might as well get more comfortable now that the jig was up. soon enough, that aforementioned tail, it slips out from beneath her jacket and sits off to the side while mostima removes her coat. the sweater on underneath is almost odder, almost like it was a patchwork job in the sleeves and how part of it seems to be cut nearly along her hip.

even stranger is the necklace, the sharp black cross. it's irony if one thinks about it, a devil wearing something holy? with features like hers? those eyes could even be seen now properly by shizuru, the shock of blue meeting unusual pupils. slits. not the eyes of something human. orphan? that causes mostima's brows to raise.

orphan....she never heard that before, orphaned children, maybe. her mind does go to thinking about that, lemuen didn't have parents until she was adopted by el's family. however, that didn't sound right for what shizuru might be alluding to. perhaps she ought to tell fiammetta and lemuen later about what she just learned unintentionally for a change. they might be interested, too.)

Never heard of them, actually. What I am, it's a secret. (her tone is serious, at least to make it clear that asking about it would not end well for both of them this soon.) Really? Not even if you told them you saw a beautiful devil playing with children and treating them kindly?

(her tone shifts easily, to less than serious after. playful. she isn't serious about labeling herself that, if only because it wasn't far from true about her identity now. sankta are only angels, falling only means she is no longer allowed among her people or to be seen by them. whimsical girl, but that's fine. her whims are her own, and she has no need to tie herself down if she can help it after what happened.

the music in the club pulses in the background, no longer overpowering them, while this inhuman beauty is far too relaxed for someone that could be attacked by the other girl at any chance that she has. one might ask, why is she so relaxed? if shizuru wants, she can truly chase her down without pause now that she has an idea of what mostima looks like and about those horns. her tail, too.

the answer, it's simple: she wouldn't allow shizuru to claim victory. when someone is far beyond the strength of others, it becomes clearer in their demeanor and not just in how she disappeared. she won't allow shizuru to win, for nothing more than mostima's desire to not lose this life of hers so easily.)

Mm? Not really anything that serious, I saw you and grew curious.

(no purpose, nothing more than her whims. shizuru could rest easily knowing that she wasn't that sort of person to go around doing this often, that much is obvious in her whimsical nature. she's comparable to a stray cat, coming and going while also becoming interested in people as she pleases.)

Did you think that I was planning to deflower you or some poor maidens like a true devil or something, on a whim?

(she didn't have to put it so bluntly, but again, she doesn't beat around the bush in how freely speaks.)

As flattering as that is~, (must she also not take that seriously?) That isn't me, I'm not so shitty that I go around using people for my own desires.

(despite mostima sleeping around at times, she wasn't lying. sex wasn't everything to her, and she had no use for material gains or demanding someone to give up their body in exchange for whatever they're asking of her. she's capable of seeing through people, which meant shizuru so happened to catch the attention of this devil. fiammetta would call it horrible to this young ladies face, saying that it wasn't worth dealing with mostima and whatever the hell she might do.

she never gives straight answers that easily, she never answers anything about herself without making it a struggle. it's almost intentional, this wall of air that she maintains and how the enigma carries herself. penetrating that would be the bigger obstacle for anyone wanting to uncover more of the mystery.

perhaps she even anticipated shizuru might have a taste for this forbidden fruit quickly than most may have, some give up before they lose themselves to it and take what they can get of their answers. they may not receive many, but she did show something to this girl that most had no idea about aside from a select few people.

only a devil could tempt a girl into becoming eve, though mostima won't compare herself as going that far with what she would allow her to have answers to.)

[This first step taken by Shizuru is all it takes, a wordless covenant— she is ready and willing to cross the threshold between ignorance and knowing.

Are the resplendent eyes of this smiling devil watching carefully, as she sinks her teeth into the flesh of this offered fruit?

From the simple lowering of the jacket hood, a handful of secrets tumble out, answers both sought out and unanchored to any particular question. That tail finally peeks out from the bulky fabric, swaying easily before it rests at Mostima's side. In a way, it would have completed the look, the demonic air given by the horns alone— were it all not absolutely thrown off by the presence of a black cross hanging at the woman's neck. A bizarre sight, standing out starkly even against the other features made plain beneath the dim lighting. There must be a story, there— though it's likely sealed beneath the enigmatic smile gracing her lips as she rests her cheek against her hand.

Shizuru's mind briefly entertains the notion of an exorcism as well, though only if she were timid enough to rush to the church and proclaim her findings, naive enough to believe that it would be worth the effort to begin with.

It's laughable, that the ritual likely wouldn't even take, were such a call to be made. This devil would be smiling the entire time if she were to even deign to entertain them, the holy water inert upon her flesh, and whatever prayers the head priest and sisters might beseech unto god unable to touch this woman, in the end. And when she disappears, it'll be of her own volition, and not an act of purification from above.

After that, they would cast their judging eyes upon Shizuru, wouldn't they? How did she come across this devil and why did she show herself to their virtuous president in the first place? The suspicions would snowball— her rivals would delight in it, certainly, while her friends would look upon her in confusion. Disappointment. Disgust.

No, she couldn't bear that. Shed rather perish than have those eyes behold her with such a look.

She won't breathe a word of this, not to a single soul. This devil will be her secret, well-kept and untouched, just one more to add to the many already festering in Shizuru's heart. Unfortunately for Mostima, she's in good company, there.

When the woman denies her suspicion, Shizuru searches those vibrant eyes for a moment or so. She finds a two-fold certainty— that Mostima is not an Orphan, and that her true essence isn't something she's willing to divulge.]

Is that so? What a relief, truly. If you were an Orphan, this night would have gone very differently.

[Of course, she knows that this wouldn't have been a battle she could escape from with a few scrapes, if how quickly Mostima had handled those thugs was anything to go off of. Shizuru is almost grateful that this woman isn't a direct threat to her or the others at the academy, but she's still no closer to understanding what she is or why she's here.

One of those mysteries isn't going to be solved tonight. Mostima's tone doesn't brook any further venturing. As for the other, well, she certainly has a way with words, doesn't she? Vaguely referencing her own curiosity about the president while breezily remarking on something audaciously improper.]

Is that where you imagine my thoughts to wander?

[Her laugh is soft, a touch uncomfortable as soon as she asks. She regrets it immediately, for she couldn't bear the answer, the resounding "yes" that Mostima might give her with that vexing smile and knowing eyes. So, she pivots quickly, shaking her head.]

Not at all. [Her face is nevertheless graced with a faint flush at the bold choice of words, the imagery they convey.] You paid for something you could have taken at will.

[Yes, Mostima had paid quite a handsome sum for something so measly, but she won't say as much. Nor will she say that Mostima kissed her with the respect of someone almost noble, gallant, who would never dare of robbing a young woman of her innocence on a whim.

But it only adds to the pile of mysteries surrounding this woman like a fortress, ever-shifting and unrelenting when a visitor comes knocking.]

At times, there are... unsightly things that lurk in the shadows around here, you see. None of them with good intentions, I imagine. Though, none of them with with an eloquence like yours.

[Likewise, Shizuru keeps her own clarification vague. The latter remark she gives is a compliment towards Mostima's philosophical insight as well as a cheeky nod to her colorful language at times.]

Nor a… [ now, how might she word this? ] …moral compass such as yours.

[Though she stifles another laugh, amusement glimmers in her eyes and plays upon her lips.]

Forgive me, I just find it fascinating. A devil who knows right from wrong— ah, though it's not terribly surprising, is it? But one who elects to do good… No, no one would ever believe it.

[They'd sooner douse Shizuru in holy water, themselves, and goodness— they'd probably get the better reaction from her instead of Mostima, wouldn't they?]

Not unless they've seen it with their own eyes.

[And Shizuru had, vividly recalling the touching scene and the twinkling laughter of the children who crowded around this pretty wanderer.

What will become of this burden of knowledge? Even if she curtails her pursuit, she can't ever go back to being ignorant.

If she stops, right here, tonight.

Something about that notion is far from appealing, though.]

(that smile, it doesn't fade. some might consider it irony, mostima does, that she even wears a cross. it's something that she's always worn before the fall. ignorance was something that can be considered bliss, devils, the truest of them, often use that to their advantage. luring in unsuspecting men and women while offering such sweet promises that would spell their doom. this offering of temptation, forbidden fruit. she isn't a true devil. the stigma of it is something she'd carry forevermore in her life as mostima breathes, lives, and goes onward. dear outcast, girl who used to be holy above all else with carefree days filled with joy, does it not hurt? doing this to herself, forcing distance while saying it's for the best.

she watched, she watches with those eyes that stand out. the slits, the blue to them, they're such a mesmerizing shade of blue. this fruit she bit into was only the beginning of what would be a certain doom to normalcy.

what awaits is something so abnormal, something so terrible. this enigma she looks at can only smile as she's always done. nobody can rid themselves of her. mostima, she'd only haunt those she desires to haunt while maintaining this distance that she imposes upon herself. like allowing some poor soul to reach her will spell their demise. the end of a life that didn't desire to be ended, but the fallen is at ease now with shedding that jacket. no need to not get comfortable now that her secret is exposed. she may not label it entirely, but that didn't need to be said.

the church would only find this devil to be gone if they did try, her disappearing with her cryptic smile. unable to be truly expelled from this world were they to go that far. such a foolish attempt, not one that she'd blame them for trying. they all had some manner of reaction to uncovering her abnormalities. some thought her to be some weird girl, others demanded this devil leave while offering prayers to their lord that she would no longer grace their lives.

she won't attempt to question them, although she has a feeling shizuru would be under more scrutiny than her. mostima didn't care for how others perceived her, this was why she imparted those words of wisdom about perception. she did not need them to be herself. she desired only to live the way that she had been. none of them could understand that, and she was not going to force someone to change their mind about her. there was no reason to. if they are unwilling to embrace her being her true self, then what good would that do?

she would not mask herself for the sake of lying to others. her heart is her own, her mind is as she sets forth on journeys that many would kill for. that plenty even had killed over in a wish to see sights that their small worlds would never let them have.

mostima can take being a secret. she's been something of one for a good while, no need to make it complicated by revealing herself to every man and woman wandering the streets. as a person she's unusual, some find her to be a fleeting illusion. a trick of their minds from time spent so tiredly moving through the motions. mostima does not disagree that she finds such things to be a shame if asked, nobody should feel trapped within themselves. clawing, screaming, and begging for what should be salvation.

freedom, it's such a scary concept to them. maybe even for shizuru in her short time of knowing her, seeing through her like she was unable to hide the truth. the reality. she's drowning. mostima can almost feel it in her mannerisms, drowning herself while pretending that she is something that she isn't. perhaps even doing such a thing and hiding away what she deems unsightly for the world.

it's oppressive, she wants to say. suffocating. how can anyone live this way? a soul can only take so much with the heart before it shatters to pieces, but she's not going to voice her worries. she's only a stranger, a nameless stranger who was speaking with a girl that should know better than to get mixed up with her. this woman who carries her within her more danger than most would have liked.)

I see....nothing to worry about, I wouldn't call myself an enemy.

(but she doesn't address it, not the remark about her words drifting from relaxed to improper thoughts. her smile didn't change. was she amused, or does she have a guess that shizuru has dreamed of things that she wouldn't talk about? the answer was more that she guessed, she's still young. such thoughts are common in the youth. mostima? she would admit if asked that she's done certain acts, dreamed of them in youthful bliss. she's known and felt comfortable with herself since a young age. why wouldn't she be? the fallen has kissed other women, she's even kissed and gone further with someone important to her before things changed.

she's bold. the things she says, the things that she does. those thugs didn't stand a chance, they didn't know how to fight her. not that anyone would know, she moved too quickly. unable to be captured, unable to be followed while she put to use her physical training. she may no longer be in the army, but mostima knows how to fight. they didn't understand the difference in her and their usual targets. not until the fallen had cleaned their clocks.

it only makes it more interesting, that she had done that. maybe that she also doesn't attempt to tease shizuru about her thoughts of the other girl not being as pure as she comes off as.)

True, I did pay for it.

(that flush to her cheeks was cute, mostima would keep it to herself, though. my, my, she must not be used to people being so bold. she isn't above it, and certainly can't resist the allure of doing such things to others. not that it makes them happy to be teased by the fallen. mostima truly does not know boundaries that well, not unless it's her own with how often she's prone to pushing people beyond their comfort zone.

that only comes with the territory of what she is. she won't lie to them, she won't tell the truth fully, instead she dances around while offering smaller temptations to those who take the chance without anything more substantial to latch on to.)

Hmm? Monsters that lurk in the shadows, are they? I'll keep that in mind.

(her mouth aside, she does have amusement in her bright blue eyes. she can offer things that were outlandishly insightful, but she also was a bit funny in that regard from how prone to swearing she is. sometimes it's so casual that it catches plenty of people off guard.)

I'll take that as a compliment~.

(calling her a devil, the remarks about her moral compass and how she speaks freely. no need to see it as anything less, she's done it often to fiammetta who would insult her through such words with a sharp tongue.)

You aren't wrong, though. It's unexpected to see someone like me. Playing with children, eating street food, or perhaps even coming and going as I please.

(if shizuru desired to keep pursuing this forbidden fruit, she won't stop the girl. that is her choice. ignorance is bliss, but once it's gone, there is little to stop the growing curiosity. a desire for truth and to know more than what once was there.

this is her choice, so mostima shall respect that.

she isn't going to prevent her from this much, futile or not, around this fortress that protects her. the airy demeanor and how she almost seems untouchable. unreachable.)

[It's an intriguing sight, to be sure, watching this still-nameless devil become even more comfortable as she shrugs off the remainder of her jacket. Now that there's nothing left to hide, it must be a relief to be freed from the oppressive heat of the bulky fabric. Though, her smile is unwavering as always, as if 'relief' and 'discomfort' would wear that same expression regardless. In fact, she almost gives the air that it wouldn't have mattered much to her which manner Shizuru had decided, as if all of this leaves so little an impression upon her existence. That tonight was merely one whim against the thousands she's entertained, to be forgotten when the first tremor of boredom comes rumbling.

That makes one of them, at least. Every anomaly that makes itself known to the otherwise well-composed president leaves an indelible mark, like footprints in concrete, to always remind her of the ways that she exists in the same current of abnormality. And she can pave over every imperfection— she does— but Shizuru will always be acutely aware of the distortions that she masks. Unlike in Mostima's case, there won't be further whims that provide her with a distraction suitable enough to stamp out what she's no longer ignorant to.

It isn't as though Shizuru is deeply ill at ease, but all she has is the woman's blithe self-reporting that she isn't an enemy, and the hinted caution against any more prying questions. Whether Mostima knows it or not— whether she cares or not, truthfully— she'll have Shizuru's close attention on her movements so long as she can ascertain them. Even if she isn't a direct threat to Shizuru or her classmates, Mostima is still a wild card that more than merits the scrutiny.

Curious, isn't it? Or perhaps, amusing, even, that neither woman will find themselves so easily rid of the other so soon.]

It'd invite certain accusations, without a doubt.

[Of insanity, really. That is what comes to the forefront when Shizuru even considers the notion of confessing what she had witnessed to anyone. And, even then, what would be the purpose of telling? Doing so would only reveal the cards that she holds close. Let this devil be her own matter to contend with, should it ever come to that.

Mostima is correct when she remarks how unexpected it is to see someone like her enjoying the small comforts of daily life. Unexpected would be an understatement, really— unwelcome would be the more apt term, were the wrong person were to cast a paranoid eye towards the woman. Though, is she lucky or unlucky that it is Shizuru with whom she ended up? Where others might be quick to strike, even happy to do so, what shall it spell for her to be under the watch of someone who unfortunately tends towards her own manner of obsession when it comes to solutionless dilemmas?

For this isn't a problem that will resolve itself with words, a purchased kiss, or a night of dancing. Rather, it's a long game, another one that Shizuru is accepting her role as a player in.]

You must find us humans rather entertaining, since you often find yourself amongst us.

[Or rather, that Shizuru finds Mostima amongst the crowds, blending in as she does even while the president was already privy to the slightest hint that she didn't quite belong— that swaying tail.

Mostima is free to consider it a compliment. Shizuru certainly doesn't intend anything deeply insulting or harsh from her words. If anything, it's merely a slow venturing, wondering what she might say to press against something that might reveal more to her. She says shes not an enemy, forthcoming about that much at least. Devils don't exactly have a record of interacting with humans for virtuous reasons, but even in this den of hedonism, this woman practices a peculiar self-restraint— at least, in Shizuru's eyes.

Could there be an answer to one of her questions, in that? It's certainly worth exploring, she thinks.]

Well, if you should ever happen across those things— [ those Orphans, she means ] —then I would greatly appreciate it if you could keep me informed. Locating me should be simple enough for you, I presume?

[Whether or not she had intentionally sought out Shizuru, their paths nevertheless crossed far too often to be coincidence.]

No need to take matters into your own hands, of course.

[Or speak of it to anyone else who might have a vested interest in the Orphans. Of those, there are many— others like Shizuru, in addition to the more shadowy figures who keep their identities wrapped up from any prying eyes. As far as Shizuru is concerned, none of the other HiME need be involved in this alliance that she dares to propose to Mostima. The burden shall continue to be all her own, even with a devil who has shown herself capable of withstanding any troubles without breaking a sweat.]

You can think of it as 'working together,' if you'd like. Or, you can consider it charity, if that suits you better.

[Even a devil can be generous, can't it? Especially one who might find herself teetering on the edge of goodness when it suits her whimsy.]

(mostima is something of a certainty about her unusual behavior, her demeanor. while some might think she treats moments like this as a brief footmark, that's rarely if ever the case. wordly travels like hers are interesting. what sights she's seen contributes to her opinions, offerings of words of wisdom that might seem strange at the time to hear from someone like mostima. she's a being of unusual circumstances, the things she does constitute such scrutiny and confusion. some may wonder to themselves what kind of person she is. so capable of disappearing suddenly into thin air, leaving like she was not just speaking to someone who had been demanding a few answers of their own. answers, insults, remarks that were thinly barbed death threats. that's what makes it so interesting.

the attraction of someone like her is such a foolish thing, she would never allow herself to be caught in the hands of anyone. their grasp tight around her body briefly, then disappearing once more off into the sunset. such an unusual woman. enigmatic, cryptic, and playful. her mouth unfiltered, her thoughts kept far from the understanding of others that might find themselves curious.

shizuru plays this game differently than some have tried in the past, but she says nothing of it. the fallen only relaxes. the sight of her boots propped up on the table and legs crossing, while she leans into her hand more. she isn't someone that would attack others without good reason. mostima knows that about herself. everyone else, wouldn't. whatever shall they do? she's nothing that their reality knows about naturally without some form of fear. fear, the inexplicable desire to avoid what is in front of their faces.

dancing, parading, and masquerading around this world like it's her own story being told from the outside. life is truly something wonderful, something magical. mostima would be remiss if she didn't indulge with the highest of highs, did it count as living? that's something mostima can't answer, not even if anyone tried to ask her about it.

what matters more is her willingness to sit here with shizuru. this is a rare chance, a young lady like her shouldn't waste it while it's in her hands.)

Don't think too much about it, despite how they may think, I'm here and alive. Breathing, dreaming, whatever people might call it.

(humans can be entertaining, that is true. a woman like a devil, wandering this world while taking in immeasurable sights and things. she holds in her heart a fondness, a joy, to no longer be tied down by the oppressive grip of what could be perceived as the perception of others. she's free. free to do as she pleases, as she desires in all her whims. despite this designation of her being guarded, watched, and kept on a leash. that's what makes this so interesting.

this devil with her piercings, the sight of a cuffed earring peering out from blue locks of hair while she maintains her gaze on shizuru. that mostima does not lose herself similarly is always amusing in itself, she doesn't mind the idea. she's proven it often, she will do as she wishes.

what an odd devil she is, though the commentary of working together, that causes her brows to raise. interesting. does she want to keep mostima from getting too near some manner of truths that she knows little about? it seems she might truly have to tell lemuen about this, fiammetta, too. something that fell into her lap with unintended consequences awaiting their every step, their every move in this sudden proposal that had been offered to her.

her tail, it sways lazily, almost like a metronome in how it falls the faint and heavy beats in the dance floor proper. the energy of it all without trying, it doesn't say anything about what she's thinking for shizuru unfortunately for her.)

Hmm? Are you worried about me, a stranger, then?

(what a funny thought that is, that someone might worry about her. she didn't need it. mostima could handle herself, but not in the way that some might expect with her ability to suddenly vanish. temporal arts are something unique, something that she doesn't use with the intention of drawing too much attention to herself. she has plenty of people that want to take her head from her shoulders.

though that's not going to stop her from whatever she feels she wants to do, this is only a matter of curiosity that leads her into what she's considering. what shizuru does not know, doesn't hurt her. she'll see about removing their presence with the boss of course, lemuen might be pleased to work out that trigger finger of hers.)

But I understand, I might ask for something first, nothing uncouth, I'm not so terrible that I'd aim to deflower a poor woman as I mentioned.

(dear god, her jokes still need to be stopped. her lack of filter, her "charming" ability to say such....colorful things, without a lick of shame. mostima might not give her an easy time were shizuru to ask for anything more, but she muses that this could make things interesting.)

Don't be surprised when I do~.

(it almost sounds like flirting, it almost feels like it. something akin to it, close enough that any deeper something might sprout from these words, the things uttered while mostima plays a bit of a game with this young lady. nothing like a true devil, but that's what makes this fun for some. there isn't a worry about losing their soul if they lose her attention. nothing more than a lack of understanding about mostima.

about this enigma who they know little of, this same enigma who speaks casually and wonders to herself how long she might have for this alone. seems she might have plenty of time tonight.)

[It doesn't escape Shizuru's acknowledgement that her little intermission with this unusual woman is indeed a rare opportunity, even if it's one that isn't necessarily given as reward for the president's dutiful efforts thus far. And because of this awareness, she has trouble finding it in herself to relax as readily as her companion here. It creeps beneath her otherwise calm surface, the hyper-vigilance and sprinkling of paranoia, that their time together could very well be cut short on a whim.

The devilish woman treats this nondescript backroom as comfortably as she would her own personal quarters, it seems, kicking up her boots atop the low table without a care. Shizuru raises her eyebrows at the motion, at first because of the blatant lack of manners. Should she have expected differently? Somehow, she doesn't picture this devil sharing her own traditional upbringing, molding her into a proper young lady.

Proper— now there's a funny thought. Somewhere along the way, Shizuru deviated from propriety, hadn't she? Her judgment is ill-placed, because at least one of them is wearing their shamelessness openly.

After deciding not to remark on Mostima's behavior, Shizuru should have averted her attention from the offending sight— but instead, she finds her gaze trailing up the woman's legs before catching herself and looking askance towards nothing in particular on the other side of the room. While there isn't anything overtly lecherous in her eyes, at the same time, looking at her in this manner is hardly appropriate, no?

Ah, well— even if this pretty devil isn't planning on attacking in a traditional sense, Shizuru's defenses are certainly being prodded at in ways most uncomfortable.]

Dreaming, you say? [She laughs, meeting her companion's eyes again. The thought of this devil sleeping sweetly amuses her for some reason.] Then, they must be rather colorful adventures.

[What do beings such as this one dream of when slumber takes hold? What manner of mirages dance across the mind of a woman who can certainly be likened to one, herself? Are they tender, filled to the brim with impossible sweetness, dreams of someone special, perhaps? Are they innocent? Or do they bleed into something more debauched?

Shizuru knows where her own dreams veer, what her subconscious dredges up from what she tirelessly tries to keep at bay. Her own 'colorful adventures,' to be sure. Ones that have her waking up both relieved and despairing that they were only dreams.

It's not terribly important, the two of them don't need to go on exchanging dreams as close friends might. Shizuru can keep her dignity intact, yet. But, goodness— there she goes once more, this devil, with the talk of deflowering. A 'poor woman,' no less, as she so bluntly terms it. Is Shizuru so obvious to this woman's keen eyes?

Given where her mind— and eyes— have been wandering, Shizuru flushes a touch more deeply, and gives a nervous giggle to unsuccessfully soothe her nerves.]

I'm relieved— that would be quite a steep price to pay for your vigilance.

[But who is to say that she isn't in the business of making deals that the masses would consider unsavory? Her powers come at a price. Her position at Fuuka, as well. Shizuru pays in secrets and well-maintained façades. More is always asked of her, and she always pays in kind, but she's no fool— she knows that one day she'll reach her breaking point. Perhaps that day intends to come sooner, rather than later.

She'll tell herself that her virginity wouldn't be worth more than its symbolic value to a devil, but this excuse is flimsy in the face of the true reason why she feels discomfort at the images conjured up by this repeated insinuation.

For her own thoughts have ventured shamefully down such roads before, wicked fantasies that taint the relationships that she would do anything to keep pure and unblemished.

It's unfortunate, deeply so, that this devil before her is beautiful. It's even worse that her words, no matter if they're spoken in jest or seriousness, tap at the shadows hungry for freedom behind a door that Shizuru tries her damnedest to keep tightly shut behind her back.

She takes a deep breath, but her nerves and thoughts are already in tangles.]

Oh, I'm sure we won't remain strangers for much longer. [My, it really does sound a bit like they're flirting.] Would you believe me if I said that I've been chasing you down so that I might learn your name?

[Right— tangled feelings or not, alliance or not, she has to leave here with at least her name. She has to.]

Worried? Mm... It's rather, I'm sure you have far more lively things to busy yourself with than my trivial problems. Besides, you wouldn't go down without a fight.

[A compliment, or an observation? No matter, the recollection of Mostima standing over the petty thugs causes a contrite expression to cross her lovely features.]

Ah— I did hope to apologize for that instance.

[With her hands folded neatly in her lap, she bows her head with a trained politeness.]

Please forgive my rudeness.

[Would this devil accept, and does it even matter if Shizuru had ever expressed her regrets? She can venture a guess, that these formalities would end up being appreciated only by Shizuru, but she isn't so callous as to propose an alliance without smoothing over an early misunderstanding.]

(she might be getting a kick out of it, the discomfort and how shizuru seems to react to her little sprinkles of teasing reminders. they're in a club, she also is a terrible person when it comes to how she could word things and act at times. despite the cheery air, the kindness she carries within that almost seems uncharacteristic for a devil. devils don't display kindness, they fake and lie. they act with cunning that others would be fortunate to have. games played by them are so often dangerous, so rife with it as she seemingly does not have much that marks her as one. nothing beyond her physical appearance. it's almost amusing, but she does not need to lie.

what a woman she is, but she's not going to lie about the reality. everything is decided purely on her whims, what she desires to do. or that's what mostima has told herself often. this is not simply a game of whims, she does things because she holds in her heart a fondness. a care. capable of feats that surprise others. what kind of woman is she? nobody can answer that question. what can be answered is that she would not do anything that would seem out of character for how she perceives herself, or how others might perceive her in what she deems suitable times. there are people who want to take that pretty head of hers from her neck, shizuru isn't one of them.

that she gathered from their conversations and how she seemed strangely apologetic for something that mostima had no real reason to find annoyance in. how else might one react to a foreign presence? she did what she felt necessary. mostima saw no reason to hate her for it, but it's another part of that day best left unsaid. unlike a certain wolf she deals with rarely, there is nothing to suggest she might have to worry about her head being on the menu.

it's only fitting that she smiles, wicked and not wicked. the light of those sharp and vivid blue eyes, the slits of them as if up to something mischievous. she isn't necessarily, but she was noting her companion's curious reactions. does she dislike it that much? the discomfort is there, mostima won't ignore that.

her jokes are jokes, things that others do not find funny while simultaneously wondering if the fallen had a few screws loose in her head. she could make so many remarks, a real chatterbox that didn't know when to shut the hell up. even for her own good by others opinions, like nothing fazes her. nothing scares her. what is this mystery woman, and why does she do this? it matters not, it matters little while she takes in shizuru's words without much input.

she didn't use her manners, if only because mostima had long since lost any need for them beyond cordial words of politeness. soldiers are funny things, spending long enough as one often causes a lack of filter and a shift in demeanor. she hasn't stopped that, of course. if anything, it only served to make her more bold in how she uses her words, or how she might freely fill her vocalizations of her thoughts with colorful things. crass things, nothing that a prim and proper young lady should say.

nothing that a prim and proper young lady should have heard uttered in her space. hell, mostima might be the one person that most would recommend steering clear of from how frustrating she is.

she's so prone to running people in circles that it starts to get grating on the nerves. like what is she thinking? it's almost like she maintains this air of mystery to force away others while playing about her own tune. her own dance, offset from the rhythm of their world and yet not at the same time. dancing, stepping, flying. she holds little reason to not do this, with that smile and her only thoughts being that she ought to ease up on her teasing for shizuru's sake. shizuru seemed like she might not take too kindly to her mentions of these things for too long.

does she so heavily restrict herself that such thoughts bring about discomfort? that's what mostima can't say.)

You shouldn't worry yourself about that, you did what you felt necessary. Doesn't everyone aim for the neck if they find something foreign and unusual?

(she'll get back to the remark on colorful dreams later, they have something else to speak about. something more serious. the teases about virginity being a price to devils aside, she won't be enacting that sort of transaction. what mostima might have in mind is different. teaching this girl how to stop allowing her internal struggles to cloud her eyes might be the best thing she could do, freeing herself carefully from shackles that bound her a little too tightly.

if she does this too fast, it only would serve to hurt shizuru in the end. that isn't something that mostima can agree with in her style of "teaching". if bison learned quickly, shizuru might be a fast learner herself in a similar vein to that young man.)

As for my name.... (a thoughtful pause, she seems to be considering if she ought to say it. it might make it more fun if she doesn't, though it seems in poor manners to not give her that much.) Mostima.

(she doesn't expect someone to know completely of demons, devils, and fallen angels. religion isn't something widely accepted by most, while others only skimmed over reading the pages of books like the bible. more than that, she wants to say.

though she'll refrain from commentary on religion, if her name's origin does come up. she isn't the same as that fallen angel, the fallen angel who acts only when god says to act. spreads evil, when god demands evil. that's all that she can say. she wasn't that sort of person, but she also was displaying a casual comfort in her demeanor to not give anything else beyond this.)

As for my dreams, well, they're nothing special. I simply like to travel, see the world, eat new food, the usual that most might dream about.

(try new things, though that's a given. this is one of those new things, but mostima keeps her mouth shut about it. can't really go around making declarations like that without causing some manner of trouble. unintentionally, anyway.

though the lock seems amused, she heard the old voice snort. no commentary on that. not out loud, she's best not letting herself be seen as "crazy" like yith was considered by fiammetta for doing something similar with it.)

But don't sell yourself short, there's nothing rude about it.

(forgive and forget is also something she's not minding, she's quick on the uptake for that too. don't need to make this awkward by not being her easygoing self.)

[On one hand, this woman's easygoing, forgiving nature should certainly make the rest of their evening together continue without the burden of anything antagonistic. It likely would have turned out differently if Shizuru had actually made contact, broken skin with her blade that day.

After all, whenever Shizuru aims for the neck of an entity that very much doesn't belong, it isn't as if it meekly scampers off without putting up a fight. No, the usual culprits never make it that far. She doesn't permit them to. Still, she can imagine that any that might escape would remember her face, chomping at the bit to get her back when she least suspects it. At the very least, she is used to those kinds of games, dangerous because those are the rules and she is merely a player without much choice.

This manner of game, one constructed upon curious impulses, is still something that tests her footing. The chance to draw blood from this devil was never meant to be hers— this, she has accepted. All the better, in fact, if they intend to enjoy a cordial relationship with one another going forward. But rather than the absence of violence, it's the presence of a mischievous amusement whenever her jokes take center stage. Colorful insinuations that almost seem targeted, as if those sharp eyes have found a weak spot that they won't soon relinquish hold of. Is the true battle one of wits, rather than a clashing of weapons? Shizuru can only guess, but she imagines that this won't be the last of those prodding remarks.

Despite its wickedness, what a lovely smile she wears— this devil, Mostima.

Mostima— so that's her name. Foreign, of course, though it wasn't as if Shizuru had expected anything quintessentially Japanese, anyway. Neither the name nor its religious origins immediately register in the president's mind. Despite the presence of a (rather influential) church upon the academy grounds, Shizuru admittedly knows only the basic tenets expounded by the clergy. She's aware of the place that sins, shame, and forgiveness have in their belief systems. She certainly has her suspicions about their involvement in HiME-related occurrences on campus. But aside from fulfilling her council duties whenever they should involve the church, Shizuru keeps what distance she can respectfully maintain.

Her own guilt is sufficient enough at repressing that which is sinful and rotten within her.]

Mostima… It's a pleasure.

[She wonders if she should venture a politeness, use an honorific, despite the other's jokes that would urge them more towards familiarity. At any rate, they'll likely end up on a casual first-name basis, but she'll introduce herself properly, regardless.]

My name is Shizuru Fujino. I do look forward to working with you.

[Again, she tips her head forward respectfully, but this time, there's the tiniest bit of playfulness in her smile. All of these formalities are a bit silly now, aren't they? Especially if, as Shizuru suspects, Mostima can guess at what really lies beneath this prim and proper surface.

Yet, unlike Mostima, who had given Shizuru permission to unveil the secrets she concealed beneath her jacket, the young woman shall keep her own 'cloak' wrapped securely around herself. For as long as she's able to, anyway, before devilish whimsy decides that it wants to fiddle with the closure through more of those forward japes.

Ah, Shizuru will have to really school her discomfort going forward, won't she?]

How kind of you. [To forgive her so easily, she means.] But if I can help it, I'd much rather you continue on enjoying those dreams of yours.

[They sound innocent enough, and from what Shizuru had caught a glimpse of, there isn't any dishonesty in these claims.

While she doesn't make an offer, an invitation even, for company during any of these seemingly light-hearted excursions, Shizuru doesn't think she would refuse if the opportunity arose to join Mostima. Though, it's a matter of if she'll ever be allowed to get so close again, to linger for so long. She can't rely on tonight being a metric of how future encounters will go, considering how nearly everything about this woman is squarely out of her control.]

Besides, I'm sure your friends would be quite upset if you found yourself tangled up in any avoidable trouble.

[Shizuru shows her hand a bit, making Mostima aware that she had seen her in the close company of another, trading humorous banter as though they've enjoyed significant time together. Of course, she hasn't the slightest idea of this devil's perceptions regarding friendship, camaraderie, and the vulnerability that they entail.

Does it matter, much? She doesn't have a problem with appealing to that facet, aware that she herself would take such a remark to heart. While she can't guarantee how Mostima would respond, perhaps she might glean a bit of insight into something that could possibly anchor this capricious woman to something more solid.

One can tell so much about another from their relationships, after all. Perhaps too much, were Shizuru to find herself beneath the microscope.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

i'm having trouble with your name, it's on my tongue, <@limerently>

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