nullificates

I do not, tell me how many.

[ though he could probably guess right. instead he pauses looking at the offered arm. touching makes him vulnerable but being offered it gives fyodor the choice to do so or not. he wonders if showing dazai trust will get him something--but dazai isn't sentimental like that.

he takes it, tentative. ]

Too many to count, sunbeam.

(yes, he learned, he uses it. the steps are slow out of the in, a hand, much like before, setting on top of the arm.)

[ that's fair, what a shame drowning doesn't seem to stick.

he only feels half certain of what dazai wants—well, not quite that, he gets that dazai wants sex but the motive seems elusive at best. ]

You three make more noise than an entire kindergarten. How am I going to get you all to be quiet?

How is cohabitation with Nikol? You're surviving well?

(it's not just sex -- but alas, it's much more fun to watch fyodor fumble with concepts he can't really understand.)

I think having me, and by extension his freedom through my death so close might drive him insane.

[ he sighs, dramatic and moody at once, the town is the same as always and he hates it.

and yet...] The godling was so desperate for me to take you, we almost had a civil conversation.

[ are you surviving well? ]

Because he's just very sane on a daily basis, Fyfy...

(the laugh is more of a snigger, his shoulders pointing from it. he likes nikol, but let's be real, here.)

You should stop calling him 'godling' if you want anything from him, for starters.

Nikolai is sane. [ he glances at dazai, trying to gauge if his adamant defense of nikolai's sanity is telling. he hopes not but he does know gogol to be sane, he wouldn't do all this to break free if he were not. ]

I will keep this in mind but I do not call him that as an insult. He is part of one whether he wants to be or not.

And he is small, hence: godling. But inviting me to address him by his first name feels odd.

(it's not even on the freedom part, or his shiny disposition, or the murder that makes dazai question that.

it's his choice of outfit! but before he can jab at it, fyodor keeps on with his point of view, and that last bit makes him chuckle.)

He is definitely tiny! I've cursed him with it many moons ago!

(the fact that the gravity part of things compressing chuuya's spine.)

He's human, you know, regardless of all that. If you see him like that, I'm sure he'll be more civil, even without me holding him by the collar like an angry chihuahua puppy! You can keep putting emphasis on his height though! He loves being reminded I'm so much taller.

[ press x for doubt. fyodor glances at dazai again, squeezes the arm to pull him closer. an acknowledgement of his words. ]

Too human, like Nikolai.

I prefer it when I had him fully leashed but this will do for now.

[ and that's as far as fyodor is willing to admit that dazai's plan is pretty decent. ]

We could walk all over this town and we would be no closer to finding a way back.

Fully leashed is debatable. Your vampires aren't them, after all.

(so, technically, is there any pride in it? either way, he can see the water, that's where they'll settle for now.)

So, we can just drink for now. I'm digging what I can.

True, and it isn't power that interests me after all.

[ settling by the water without trying to kill one another for a change is...nice. it's peaceful in a way fyodor hasn't felt in years-he's always been busy with the mission. ]

The crime you were accused of, you do not need to tell me, but-is yours true?

But I already told you what it is.

(the arm is taken back to himself, so he can open the wine-- ah, fuck, he forgot glasses! a sip from the bottle. come down to his level, fyodor.)

It really is 'Womanizing'.

I thought that was a joke.

[ the ground is not comfortable but he manages, crossing his legs and leaning his elbows on his knees. he watches the bottle for a moment or two before he takes it. the sip he gives is far more conservative before he returns it.

surprisingly, he finds 'womanizing' more annoying of a crime than something like 'murder'. ]

Since when do I joke, aside from all the time, every time! I was dead-serious.

(there are things about dazai that aren't all that morbid, after all. he is happy, however. it doesn't feel like fyodor to drink from the bottle.)

[ a lot of fyodor is a carefully constructed self; his belief in god is real, his way of speaking too—but he, like dazai, has no taste for expensive things. his one vice is tea and music, brief and fleeting moments of pleasure in what he considers to be a rather dull world full of sin.

he shoots dazai a look. ]

I suppose, [ he begins with a long-suffering sigh ] that you're not terrible to look at, even if your personality will chase them away eventually.

What I mean assumption that I might want to have stayed.

(it's all he'll say about it. he never truly did, there are things that pull him into significance, and while touch is something he can't seem to turn away from, it's not wholly so deep in most cases.)

Yours being?

[ fyodor breathes out a distinctly sulky sigh and grabs the bottle. he takes a long, deep swing-alcohol burning down his throat. too much, too fast before he answers. he wipes the excess alcohol from his lips with the pad of his thumb then licks that.

not going to waste a drop of a wine that is clearly decent. or rather good. dazai must have picked it with some level of consideration towards fyodor's preference of not drinking garbage if he can avoid it. ]

Mischief.

[ he looks briefly puzzled. mischief. such an innocent, innocuous crime for a terrorist. ]

(fyodor, are you okay there, buddy?

he's even tapping the man's back, just to make sure the wine runs smoothly down his throat. about to let his own lips touch the bottle, dazai's only stopped by the words, and he smiles brightly.)

... That's cute!!!!!

[ fyodor is fine he wants to laugh at the way dazai takes care so that he doesn't choke. ]

I am torn between amusement and disbelief. That is why I ask about your crime.

[ he glances at dazai, ignoring the way his eyes always go back to the other. unaware, maybe. ]

Perhaps it's the way they're just shoving it all together, all you've done? Ah, it all feels very arbitrary. For a second, I thought perhaps it was self-inflicted guilt, but I talk and talk and I decided it isn't so.

(while fyodor only glances, dazai's gaze never left him, aside from when he sips, closed eyes denoting his happiness over the wash of alcohol.)

But mischief? That is inadequate description of my motivation though it was entertaining to observe most of the time. [ he waves a hand dismissively. ] Not that it matters we are all going to be judged the same, don't you think?

[ fyodor only takes a chance to really look when dazai's eyes are closed; enjoying the alcohol. ]

Or maybe those things were not what they're looking for, don't you agree? I might not have committed terrorism, but we know I have not lived the life of a saint. Why choose that? Maybe it's punishing you for your counseling skills.

(there's a laugh, a genuine one, before he passes the wine, a gentle nudge from their shoulders.)

And yours is what? Punishing you for terrorising the female population of Yokohama?

[ tipping a little at the gentle nudge, fyodor is ready to just shove dazai for that until he catches on that it had been a genuine laugh and gesture. he takes the wine, another small, conservative sip and he holds onto the bottle for the moment. ]

Is this what you do when I'm not antagonising you back home?

[ fyodor isn't forthcoming with details about himself but the interest he has in dazai is betrayed by the questions asked. he wants to know, beyond what he can deduce. ]

Who knows. I think it's funny. If we combine my real crimes with yours, perhaps we should never have left that prison cell. Here we are, though. I'm not complaining.

(they're basically living together, aren't they? surely they are separated by the wall between their rooms, but soon, it will become pretty clear what dazai's life is like on a more mundane basis. the smile isn't leaving, although it loses the genuine aspect to a more empty one.)

Sometimes. I drink, I go out, I have fun, I try to kill myself, I fail, I go to work, I come back, I have fun, rinse, repeat.

[ oh they certainly shouldn't have left that prison cell, fyodor knows that so very very very well. the smile on the other becomes less genuine and out of impulse fyodor nudges him back, passing the bottle over. ]

Well, I suppose I'll have to find ways to make it interesting for you once we are back. Yes? Don't think this outbreak is the only card I am holding onto.

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