Kuronue folded his arms, shifting his weight to one foot as he stared, unphased by the woman before him. “Every demon’s heard of us. That’s why we’re famous. You know,Legendary Bandits? Ring a bell?” Even during their light - quite an accomplishment. He rolled his eyes at the mention of a stolen object, “We were thieves. We stole things. That was our gig.” He spoke rather flatly, suspiciously eyeing this particular demon. “You’d have to be more specific, it’s been over a thousand years.” As if anyone could remember every object stolen from every town over such a long period. Impossible. “What does it even matter now? I can’t do anything about it.” Whatever the object was, he probably didn’t know its current location anyway.
Then she asked about what he chose to target. That was not a good idea. That was not a good idea at all. “Why would I tell anyone that kind of information? Who are you?” He stepped towards her, tone accusatory, “Are you trying to trap me?”
My, my, my. So suspicious and touchy. So much for a conversation. She shook her head. “Touchy, aren’t you? I’m not usually one to keep up with who is famous or not. Usually lost in my own world of a glass artist.” As he mentioned that he didnt recall what the item was, she shrugged. “Just musing. No need to be snappy.” Then realizing her poor choice of a question, (Curse her curiosity not conferring with the brain before being spoken), she folded her wings tighter in a non threatening way and put her hands up “I’m sorry. That was a poor question, and I shouldnt have asked. I’m afraid I’m not the best when it comes to asking questions. As for who I am… I am Kara Madora, Fire dragon demon and glass artist. I really couldn’t care what you usually steal to be honest, I just have a curiosity that comes out with no regard to whether the question is smart to say or not.”
Kuronue always responded in a more defensive manner - he never liked accusations - but he allowed the other demon’s words to fully sink in before he acted. It worked with Kurama, maybe it would work with Kara. He found himself especially pleased by the wordsI really couldn’t care what you usually stealbit. By then, the taller demon’s shoulders dropped and he let out a laugh. Easy to bounce back to a joking disposition. “Not many people carry that perspective.” Mid-memory, he flinched. “Trust me.” Noticing how Kara had folded her wings and recognizing the significance - it was an act that transcended most winged demon’s customs, he did the same. If she posed no threat, he had no reason to pose as one himself. Kara seemed harmless, so free to give her information and reprimand herself in public. She didn’t carry the hubris of many demons, but perhaps that was a trait of her clan. No need to pry. “Asking questions is a tricky business.”
Kuronue extended a hand for shaking, as he’d been told recently that was the norm for greeting another. “In that case, Kara, it’s nice to see a new face. I don’t get out much these days.” In fact, Kuronue should’t have been out at all, per Kurama’s request. Surely, the fox hadn’t expected him to listen to such a thing. Kuronue needed to know his surroundings, and more than that his natural curiosity of this world would always gets the better of him. He had to see it.
“Especially attached to wings - do you fly much in the Living World?” Kuronue glanced around the area, “I’ve been told it’s not such a good idea,” Like a stifled yawn his wings stretched back from restlessness, refolding into the neutral - he couldn’t call it respectful, that just wasn’t his style - position. “I’ve just… it’s been so long. I’m itching to touch the skies again.” The fingers of his other hand reached up. While he was tall enough to reach quite a distance, it wasn’t the same. It never could be. Staring up, transfixed on the sparse clouds above them, he slowly brought his hand down and looked back to Kara. “I’m sure you understand.” Another quick laugh, only a winged demon could know how that felt. The itching in every nerve through leathery appendages, begging to fly upwards. Begging to fly anywhere. Restless legs, humans were known to mention, maybe that was close.
“What exactly do you make with glass? I’m not up to date,” not by a long shot, “but last I knew that was quite a useful skill. Sounds fun to watch if nothing else.” The way colors swirled through the process always caught his fancy. He didn’t mean to invite himself, but the bat could use something to occupy his time. Anything. Even just as a small audience, it’d be nice to have another ally in an unfamiliar land.
Kara relaxed marginally when the demon she was addressing laughed. Maybe she didnt screw up her first impression too badly after all. It was semi true what she had said though. “I just add curses to all the hoard I leave lying out. When the thief finds himself struck with boils or turning into a bad poet, and unable to get rid of the object in question, I usually get my stuff back with no other hassle. So indeed i do not care what gets taken, as it causes so much of a nuisance to the taker that I end up getting it back.” She shrugged. “I.. dislike traps that kill slowly or maim. So I try to find other ways of safeguarding my stuff. Ones that hopefully send a message that my hoard is not worth the trouble.” The paused as a though occurred to her. “Though I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the leaders of the local thief gangs send the underlings who are getting too full of themselves to take one of them, just to get thier ego knocked down a few pegs. I actually wouldn’t mind if they did.” Which just went to show just how different her mindset was from most demons
She had a hunch that was what was happening, anyways. Every now and again something from her hallways would go missing, then a few weeks later she would be confronted by a very woebegone demon with one of the various curses on him would try his best to convince her to take her treasure back. The dragon demon didnt like violence much, or unnecessary pain, so she had devised a way to protect her the hoard she left out in a way it wouldnt cause either. Her Myre storage chest that held the most valuable of her hoard didnt hold to the rule though. That was warded heavily and set with traps that would incinerate any thief who tried to make off with it or what was in it. Myre Storage chests were a bit legendary themselves. Able to hold more than logically possible, they were something only a select few could claim ownership of, and was only given as a gift from the clan Kara came from, since they were the makers. The object stolen from her clan member was a shoebox sized one, that could be bought for a hefty sum for non-clan members. So of course she guarded that chest and all in it viciously.
Bit for the things she left lying about, she was fine with just hexing them and letting the thieves think they made off with something worthwhile. The chest was in the very back of the cave system she lived in, in a hidden chamber, and you would have to walk past dozens of seemingly delectable treasures to get anywhere near it. It was enough hoard lying out that most thieves would think that they were seeing the bulk of it.
She had tensed up with that confession, but then Kuronue folded his wings in return and nodded at his remark about questions. Recognizing the human greeting that was starting to get popular in Makai, she extended her hand and shook hands with him. “I agree. It is always nice to meet someone new.” At his comment on not getting out much, she tilted her head and speculated that it was probably due to his obviously demon looks. It was hard to wander around the human world if you didnt have one, and she made use of hers quite often as she shopped for the human world exclusive stuff that she loved.
At the bat’s question, she tilted her head and pondered it. “I do, but in special areas. There is a woman named Genkai who allows demons on her land so long as they dont cause trouble, which is quite large and rather forested. I usually go there when I cant take being land-bound anymore. The main problem is bieng seen by humans who arent supposed to know about demons, but Genkai’s lands are large enough that it is no problem, and I know there are at least a few demons who seek refuge there.”
Kara’s own wings twitched in sympathy and she nodded. “It is tough, being confined to the ground when you have wings that itch to soar.” Winged demons hated to be land bound for very long. Too long on the ground, and eventually they got dreams of flying that made the restriction even worse.
At his sudden change of subject, to one she much more preferred, her eyes lit up at his interest. “I do a bit of everything. Glass blowing, fusing glass to make small pendants. Due to my element, I can pretty much treat glass like clay, and sculpt them into what I want. I cant do windows, which is the useful thing. Too boring, and I hate trying to make it smooth and flat when I really just want to mold it into something pretty to look at. I can make plates though. Glass work is a lot more decorative now.”
She tilted her head again, and asked. “Since you asked though, would you like to see me make something really quick, like a small glass bird or fish? I havent tried making a bat before, but if you’d like I could make you one. I always have a few chunks of glass on me so I can make something if I get inspiration.”
The other demon’s explanation of how to get to the safe land of Genkai’s seemed to entail only more problems for Kuronue. Crossing an open field and a road didn’t seem such a bright idea when he couldn’t even look out the front window lest someone spot him. It was just as that thought ended when Kara began her explanation of a charmed pendant. Watching the half transformation wide-eyed, the bat found himself impressed.
“That must be an awfully useful trick.” A clawed hand scratched just under the brim of his hat. “…I would like to try it, just for a second.” Holding two fingers up, he added, “and I won’t fly off with it. Thieve’s honor.” Nobody said thieves couldn’t be honorable.
Kara continued her explanations, mentioning a third party who could affix the charm to any pendant, and Kuronue rubbed the crimson and silver piece just under his clavicle in thought. “I have a pendant…” No, not this one. No one else could touch it. It couldn’t leave his body that long, not a gift from Kurama. He couldn’t remove the glimmer of hope he’d held onto for a millenia just to see his true form. No. Any pendant but that, “…but this already has its meaning for me. I can’t use this. I’d need something else.” Difficulties all around.
Kuronue pushed the thoughts away to watch Kara work. Burns and fire hadn’t frightened him in centuries, but he gave her space, watching intently. “Well, if you ever need help with bats, I’m an excellent model.” A serious offer despite the haughty attitude with which he spoke. The taller demon leaned in to inspect the finished work. Eyeing it like a professional jeweler. Kuronue nodded slowly in appraisal, “very nice. A thousand years ago, I would’ve stole that.” Surely, she recognized the weight of such a compliment. “You’re remarkably talented, Kara. I’ve seen a lot of glass work in my day.” Inari, how old that made him feel. “Not many demons can produce such quality on a whim.”
For the second time in this world, Kuronue’s choice of payment was dismissed. Kurama never fully explained it to him, features twisting in confusion, “…then what do humans do? I can’t steal, live-stock is no good, I have no first born, nor any land. How do people pay for anything?” This time was so confusing. “Things were much easier in the eleventh human century than they are now.” Confusing and distracting. “Have you heard of the invisible nets? Click buttons on a weird box and it traps you in a net filled with cats!” Two decades prior, Kuronue’s confusion would’ve been up to date on that front. He tapped a finger against his chin, “sometimes it’s called a web. I think spiders run it.” The bat trailed off as Kara appeared to understand his lamp dilemma.
“Table lamp!” He cried triumphantly, “has to be a table lamp. It was on a table. Only explanation.” He held out one hand to signify the location of the table. “Next to the long comfy thing humans sit upon. Grouches? No, couches! A lamp on a table next to a couch.” For once in his life, Kuronue felt a twinge of guilt over getting free things. “As a former thief, I cannot turn down something free. But… I don’t want to be a charity case, okay? Once a figure out a legal trade that’s of some use in this world, I’ll pay you back.” He spoke with absolute assurance, as if anything he could do was useful in the human realm.
Yeah. Right.
Her wistful tone was ironically grounding, “…It will be nice to have a partner in flight. I haven’t had one since I met foxy, come to think of it. Deal.”
Bat Infestation Under Tile Roof- Roofing Miami, FL- Istueta Roofing (by Istueta)
THIS CONVERSATION ISN’T OVER UNTIL I SAY IT IS
DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME
No.
How can a conversation be over if you’re talking about it I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHAT IS THIS.
You better start.
I’M NOT PARTICIPATING IN THE CONVERSATION I’M JUST TALKING ABOUT IT
JEEZ KURONUE THERE’S A DIFFERENCE CAN’T YOU UNDERSTAND ANYTHING
I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY WE’RE TYPING IN LETTERS THAT ARE SOMEHOW BIGGER AND DIFFERENT LOOKING THAN THE OTHER LETTERS ALSO MADE BY THESE BUTTONS.
I THINK I BROKE SOMETHING.
YOU’RE KURONUE. YOU BREAK EVERYTHING.
EVERYTHING
Bat Infestation Under Tile Roof- Roofing Miami, FL- Istueta Roofing (by Istueta)
THIS CONVERSATION ISN’T OVER UNTIL I SAY IT IS
DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME
No.
How can a conversation be over if you’re talking about it I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHAT IS THIS.
You better start.
I’M NOT PARTICIPATING IN THE CONVERSATION I’M JUST TALKING ABOUT IT
JEEZ KURONUE THERE’S A DIFFERENCE CAN’T YOU UNDERSTAND ANYTHING
I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY WE’RE TYPING IN LETTERS THAT ARE SOMEHOW BIGGER AND DIFFERENT LOOKING THAN THE OTHER LETTERS ALSO MADE BY THESE BUTTONS.
I THINK I BROKE SOMETHING.
Bat Infestation Under Tile Roof- Roofing Miami, FL- Istueta Roofing (by Istueta)
THIS CONVERSATION ISN’T OVER UNTIL I SAY IT IS
DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME
No.
How can a conversation be over if you’re talking about it I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHAT IS THIS.
![touyaoftheice:
sekahyyh:
rayrayslife:
a-short-history-of-nothing:
Daft Punk
Juliet Starling
Batman.
I.AM.SET.
1. MUCC2. Alex from Lunar3. The woman from Bridesmaids?
…this is gonna be interesting
1.) Breaking Benjamin
2.) Batman
3.) Loki (What? I’m pretty sure he was the main character. He was all I was looking at, anyway.
(Doing this because I can’t bear to pass it up. My team is BAMF.
1) Aesthetic Perfection
2) Inuyasha
3) Yusuke Urameshi.
Yeah. I’m not scared of no freakin’ zombies.)
[[1. Does Hiei’s theme count as Hiei? I’m counting it as Hiei.
2. Fuuuu I never play video games. Uh. I’m just going to say Squall because he was my spirit animal as a child.
3. Kaneda.
SUCCESS.]]](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m3bis2w4Zk1rnlq5ao1_500.jpg)
- Daft Punk
- Juliet Starling
- Batman.
I.AM.SET.
1. MUCC
2. Alex from Lunar
3. The woman from Bridesmaids?…this is gonna be interesting
1.) Breaking Benjamin
2.) Batman
3.) Loki (What? I’m pretty sure he was the main character. He was all I was looking at, anyway.
(Doing this because I can’t bear to pass it up. My team is BAMF.
1) Aesthetic Perfection
2) Inuyasha
3) Yusuke Urameshi.
Yeah. I’m not scared of no freakin’ zombies.)
[[1. Does Hiei’s theme count as Hiei? I’m counting it as Hiei.
2. Fuuuu I never play video games. Uh. I’m just going to say Squall because he was my spirit animal as a child.
3. Kaneda.
SUCCESS.]]
Days Past
“Why do you want to go anywhere colder than this?” Kuronue asked, picking a fruit from overhead as they walked along the backstreets of a small village. It was perfect weather for the bat. Warm as the sky that rusted shade of red. Every motion of the wind threatening to flake the pieces down onto the heads of the demons below. Cooling just enough to make Kuronue’s feet bounce higher than normal. The perfect conditions, in the bat’s book. Lifting his heels enough for the wind to catch his wings and give him an extra spring in the step - so to speak. A jovial step.
Today was a good day. “The villagers are rife with filled pockets and coin purses,” he slung an arm around the companion with whom he’d chosen to travel. “There’s even street rats everywhere!” Kuronue grinned, as if proud of each one of them. Pointing at one particular, a young demon - younger than Touya by quite some time - practicing sleight of hand on the street corner. “Reminds me of myself back in the day,” a sweet nostalgia, maybe brought by the sweet heat they’d finally found. A bat could only take so much cold.
Kuronue threw up a quick Thieve’s Code “Salute” - there is honor among thieves - and the girl broke into a grin. Silent nods to acknowledge the potential he saw. “Couple hundred years after I get famous, keep an eye out for her. She’s going to make it.” Satisfied grin gracing his lips, the bat demon took a deep breath of the town’s acrid scent.
“I’m surprised you haven’t melted.”
“You’ll have to beat me to fame, Kuronue.” Touya had to shut his right eye for a moment as the glint off something metal caught him. Turning to locate the source, Touya noticed two people in an alley to their right. A man and a younger boy, it looked like. An ugly, disproportional larger demon, so Touya wasn’t quite positive it was male. Sometimes you just couldn’t tell. In his hand, he held the metal guilty of blinding Touya’s eye for that split second. A dagger, raised high above his head and striking down at the kid. Touya’s fist clenched at his side but he kept himself calm.
The last time he had tried to intervene in such an event…. well, he still had the scar on his upper shoulder to mark the occasion.They were past the point where he could see what was going on without looking back and alerting Kuronue to his discomfort. He did hear a scream, and there was no doubt in his mind that it belonged to the kid. It was the way of demon world, such things would always happen. The strong survived, and the weak either bowed their heads and stayed out of their way, or they ended up dead. It was how things worked, but that didn’t mean Touya had to like it.
Someone suddenly bumped into Touya, practically shoving him aside as they stomped their way down the street at a brisk pace. It took Touya less than a second to notice it was the same man, and so when he was out of sight past a corner, Touya tossed a small leather pouch of coins to Kuronue. Heavy, full. He was right, the man had been at least rich, if not powerful.
“I pick up the worst habits from you.” Touya didn’t approve of stealing, nor most other unlawful acts. But being around Kuronue had made him slightly numb to the stealing part. He’d even picked up a few tricks from the bat, though he never used them. Well, almost never. That man had deserved it, and Touya had wanted to prove himself right about his judgment of the larger demon.
At Kuronue’s mention of melting, Touya brought a hand up to run back through his hair, a sigh escaping. Kuronue was right, it was too hot here for him. But Kuronue had put up with colder climates, so Touya could deal with the hotter ones every once in a while.
“You’re right, it’s too warm here.” And just like that, the air around them dropped a good twenty degrees. A smile overtook Touya’s face as he kept on walking, the heat suddenly much less of a bother.
Kuronue laughed off Touya’s challenge. “You have to spend years studying in the snow to become a shinobi, who can’t be famous because I’m pretty sure we’re not supposed to see you,” Kuronue’s words were tangential. He never stayed on one topic for long yet he always seemed to return to the point when allowed to speak long enough. The bat flew in verbal circles, rotaries his mind never could control. Occupying him enough to ignore whatever was setting Touya off now.
Maybe it was a sweetened snow vendor “destroying the sanctity of such a pristine element.” Whatever. Young demons. Everything was about sanctity with them. What happened to the blood thirsty, thieving, fiends of his own generation? Those who found honor in the blood or the valuables of anyone who made an enemy of them. At least these snow vendors were making an honest living, Sweet Mother of Raizen, Touya couldn’t stand the weak being pushed around either. Kuronue didn’t like it much himself, but he wasn’t particularly weak. No, far more talented with the weapons he kept, his hearing better, his wings an easy escape. They were safe. Touya needed to stop concerning himself with the safety of others until he was a master.
Still chattering as they walked, “So provided you don’t execute me in my sleep for knowing your face,” a mere joke - he hoped, “and I don’t miss that bandit I’m supposed to meet, my face will be on more wanted posters when you finish than anyone in history.” Kuronue’s hand arced in the air with starry eyes, finding fame worth most when it was stolen. Wanted posters, news demons running with word of a bat to fear - it all sounded so intoxicating.
Kuronue was about to unleash verbal hell onto the demon shoving the pair out of his way before Touya tossed him a hefty pouch the oaf certainly wouldn’t miss. Too much. Fanged smirk in place, the bat jingled the bag next to ear listening for the coins inside to crash against each other. “Sounds like gold.” A pleasing outcome. “Excellent job, my student.” he joked, tying the pouch to a section of fabric covering his lower half, hidden discreetly under the wrap for which he’d found many a good use over the years. “This’ll get us a room some place nice if there is one,” one could never be sure in a town like this. “if not, at least we can get some good supplies before we leave. Hate to get out of such a perfect climate so - “
So much for a perfect climate. Kuronue tossed a glare at his travelling companion, “You really do have to ruin everything, don’t you?”
:: You’re eyes whispered ‘have we met?’ ::
How many years had it been? One thousand? Two thousand? Spent in captivity - dirt and grime and wards and Kuronue didn’t know how he’d even escaped. Nor which dimension he was in. Was the sky always so blue? Didn’t the Makai’s sky look red? The air was thicker there, wasn’t it? Was it?
By the time he’d dragged himself out from the edge of the woods and towards the edge of a… well, this was more than a village; Kuronue realized this couldn’t possibly be the right dimension. Everyone looked human. He was lucky enough to blend in with the shadows of alley ways and whatever those roaring machines speeding by were. Never had wings felt like such a blessing. Especially the advantage they gave.
No one was looking and this building held something. It called to him, whatever it was. A scent, a spirit, the residue of someone he thought was dead. Someone he thought was dead for a long time. Someone for whom Kuronue would seek revenge. The street was empty for the moment, as luck would have it, and he flew up - wings beating against the human tailored atmosphere. Were he not so well versed in thievery, Kuronue would’ve laughed at the pathetic excuse for a lock on the window. Pushing it open and stumbling into the apartment. Eyes darting back and forth, much more comfortable since the sun had gone down. The bright skies of this world burned his retinas.
And he began to search. Everything in this place - everything - held that scent. Everything held that same spiritual residue and quiet demonic influence. That wasn’t right. That couldn’t be right. The fox couldn’t own these things, touch them daily, these plants wouldn’t have recognized Kuronue’s own energy signature and allowed him in if the fox was dead. It didn’t work that way. It didn’t make any sense. Nothing made any sense. Kuronue didn’t even know what most of the things in this odd building were. Pulling off his hat - or what was left of it - Kuronue scratched his brow and took a seat in front of the couch. Leaning his head and a thousand or more years worth of hair growth against the cushions, sinking down from exhaustion and bewilderment.
Until he heard the click of a lock.
With the speed only demons were given, Kuronue was in another room - a bedroom, from the looks of it, wings folded with his back pressed against the door. Listening. Waiting. Looking down at his boots to finally notice how filthy they were and how easily that would give him away. Sure, he’d glided into this room but still. He’d sat for a time. He’d walked around what seemed to be a focal room when inspecting everything. Clutching the pendant around his neck, the one he’d saved despite every form of torture thrown at him, the one he’d fixed with just his teeth - a link one millimeter open too far, figured - Kuronue waited. Rubbing the crimson stone, hoping any luck left in it would give him a chance to find Kurama or kill whoever kept him here.
The redhead had heard the kettle, but was busy rearranging stuff in the living room. The kettle could keep for one more second. A soft tune was hummed by the lips of the half demon. It was soft and quiet. He often did that when he was alone. He completely missed the dark hat, hidden by a corner of the couch, lying innocently on the ground.
Returning to the kitchen, the kitsune took the pot from the stove. Shuichi took great care in his tea ritual. He enjoyed the convenience of human tea, but nothing beat the spices and herbs that could be found in the demon world. Even so, with the tea steeping, the demonic beauty used the time to go and continued getting settled.
Turning on the hallway lamp, it was only when the livingroom was flooded with light that the teen could see the hat. Panic hit him. Had an intrudered been there the whole time? He was normally keen at sensing such things. Clearly the demon was masking their energy.
Slender fingers reach for the hat. Picking up, he inspects it. It’s a black hat. The style’s far too familiar, but it’s not an uncommon design. What strikes him as odd is the smell. It’s..a scent of something familiar and warm, covered with dirt, earth, and some unsavory things that can only be found in a Makai prison. He shutters at the thought.
The sly male searches the apartment, room my room until only the bedroom remains. If there is something, it’s behind there. Reaching into the fiery locks, Shuichi pulled out a rose. It’s best to be at the ready. Slowly he opens the door.
“You’d do well to surrender. I don’t take kindly to trespassers.” The warning comes before the emerald eyes can detect anyone there.Foot steps approaching. Kuronue would swear some days half the reason Youko ever kept him around were his ears and wings. The bat demon sidestepped to the left, the door blocking his image. Kuronue sneered at the warning. Nobody wanted a trespasser if they held a captive. The second Kurama was in the room, Kuronue had him pinned against the wall. Held a foot off the ground by a strong grip digging into his shoulders, wasting now time.
“Where is he?” Barking the question before feeling something… wrong about this human. Feeling something like a kitsune. “Why do you have his energy?” The sheer rage over how that was possible - how sick this human must be - caused Kuronue to slam him against the wall once again. Kurama was lucky he hadn’t been grabbed by the neck. “Tell me what you did with him or I will make you suffer in ways you have never imagined.”
Kuronue didn’t give threats.
Fangs bared and claws already puncturing the cloth of Kurama’s shirt, waiting for a reason to cut into the flesh underneath, he eyed the human up and down. It felt human but it didn’t. A fractured soul or one who’d stolen the youki of a dear friend. This creature - it felt so much like him, it carried the same scent. But no! No, it wasn’t possible. This creature looked nothing like the fox he once begged to run. Too short, the eyes were wrong, the hair was wrong - long enough but wrong, wrong species. Nothing clicked, no sense to be made. Were his black wrapped arms shaking? It was difficult to make rational observations when one was in a bout of fury. He asked a final question, perhaps louder than originally intended, “Tell me what you did. Where are you keeping him?”
Of all the demons he’d wronged, of all the past partners he’d burned, Kuronue was the last person he ever expected to be in his house. Looking for him. The pretty lips fell open and there was a gasp. His eyes were seeing, but his mind simply couldn’t wrap around Kuronue really being there. He died. Kurama had seen it with his very on eyes. He blamed himself for Kuronue’s death. How…?
It was only at the second time of being slammed into the wall that he registered the situation. He recognized Kuronue. But Kuronue wouldn’t recognize him. Being pinned under the raven-haired demon would have been a comfort, were it not for the hostility being directed towards him. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Foolish, foolish Kuronue. What if he really had been a demon-hunter or something of the like?
“You’re pigheaded as ever I see.” His tone his calm, the words carefully chosen. The syntax was a cross between his human personality and much of Youko’s teasing reprimands. The emerald eyes took not of the rose he’d dropped when the other attracted him. Turning it into the whip with his ki, Kurama had it latch onto on of the offending arms. Another thorned vine protruded from the crimson locks, and wrapped around the arm, keeping Kuronue from harming him further or fleeing.
“For a demon in search of answers for your partners whereabouts, you are unwilling to accept the truth staring you so boldly in the eyes.” There was a crackle in the air as the human’s aura shifted, but only slightly. It wasn’t a full transformation, but Youko Kurama’s voice spilled from that perfect mouth and molten gold hues devoured the other from behind a crimson curtain.
“I am Youko. Youko has returned they cried. I have only recently been freed of my human captivity. Unless you wish this reunion be marred by blood, let me go.”
Kuronue snorted a laugh to the gasp, he was either breaking this human…this thing’s bravery. Cracking it to watch the strips of absolute shock coloring the pale complexion of this redheaded thing. This face the very picture of a rose, only incensing his anger. But the hybrid spoke before Kuronue could add enough pressure to to the claws so close to piercing that delicate human skin. So frail.
As pig headed as…
Wouldn’t he recognize someone bold enough to - oh. Well.
The thorns were certainly hard to miss. Thorns the demon would recognize anywhere - Kurama never did take damage without sending it back three fold. Kuronue wouldn’t want to find him any other way. However, he’d endured over a millenia’s worth of torture. Maybe two. Physical and psychological, nothing about was spared when dealing with the thief, all for a mirror. This was a set up. No, a lie. No, a nightmare of uncertainty created to last whether he’d escaped or they’d let him believe it. This was too easy. Finding Kurama so fast, so… different. This red haired fake - maybe some shape shifter? Hired to throw him off the track. To drag him back to a hell of wards and burns and human machinery made only for torture.
If anyone survived.
But that youki… jagged and silver, crackling like the storms of a Makai skyline - reassuring in its distant familiarity. Tension easing out of shoulder blades and the ridge between - just where the wings connected, a small patch of nerves settling in the area. Leathery wings unfurling slightly, unconsciously. The comfort found in a voice thought dead unbelievable.
Youko is back, they cry.
Kuronue mouthed each word as they were spoken, grip softening, gently lowering his old friend despite the wrath of several rose whips. Kuronue had lost gallons of blood to Kurama in the past. Nobody could fake hubris as grand as the fox spirit’s, no matter the level of skill one may have in mimicking a voice or energy. With Kurama’s feet steady on the floor, Kuronue stepped back, hands at his hips. The left feeling for one of his kusarigama - just in case, and the right tucking a thumb under one belt while long fingers (and longer nails) pulled the other belt further up his thigh. Must’ve lost more weight than expected. A fang creeping out of a satisfactory grin, “What good is a reunion without blood? Half our reputation was staked in ruthlessness, you sly devil.”
Kuronue gave this new form another once over. It was pretty, that was certain. Of course Kurama would pick a body like that, his looks were always of importance. And quite useful for gathering information, of course, Kuronue had the same effect when he chose to use it. Depended on the crowd. “Still keep your seeds in your hair, huh?” Amusement flickered in the taller demon’s eyes, “It’s a shame you’ve gone human,” however that worked, “I’d finally be taller than you.” The rack had a tendency to do that. Pulling the weapon from his right side, Kuronue raised about fifteen to twenty centuries worth of hair. “Hope you don’t mind.” The demon looked up to rethink that, “actually, I don’t care, but it seems like a nice thing to say.” The bat offered a good natured shrug. A quick shink sent a heavy pile of long black hair to the floor, the odd leaf falling here or there. Kuronue shook out his pony tail, one which still trailed the length of his torso and ended just above his tail bone - when pulled so high up on his head, at least. Just the way his hair had been so many years ago.
Except dirtier. Much, much dirtier.
“You wouldn’t believe how unmanageable that was getting,” the bat whistled, shaking his head as he looked down at the pile. “You could make a blanket out of that, I think. Got a loom?” Those indigo eyes - always switching between ultramarine and purple - gazed back to his old partner, “You better have some decent stories for me, foxy. Get anything good lately?” He glanced around the room looking for anything of recognizable value. “
