[ It's a natural response in the perspective of someone who has that power; Obikawa has never been hesitant to kill, but he has shown restraint. Patient, as any other prey would when it uses the ability to disguise itself around it's environment before striking. Having held out for over a year once the humans had stolen his tail, the humiliation coating every bone in his ribcage with fire. Had he just an ounce more power their heads would be pierced by his fangs, bodies coiled and squeezed until they had suffocated their way down his stomach.
When collective stares and scowls turn to look at them both they're met with impassiveness as Makoto grabs a hold on his arm. A small cant of his head as his eyes narrow, the void behind them growing deeper, his pupils beginning to shift with a single blink of his eye. They could separate from the fight, but they'd only be offering a culling to a God all too prepared to kill.
And that's his third strike. As if it wasn't obvious that there something always off about the man that claimed himself to be a simple janitor -- it's only ever easier to hide when he has an objective, after all.
He blinks again, the instinct to kill vanishing as every word from Makoto lulls him back. He looks to him with curved brows, almost disappointed, paired with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. ] Is that what you want? [ He asks, just to be sure -- but there's certainty from the demon's expression that makes the answer all too obvious. Breathing out a sigh he decides to turn to leave, arm draped across smaller shoulders as he drags them away.
Temptation wanes, thinning into nothingness as Obikawa forces himself to remain obedient. He would have killed if given the permission, but without it he humbly obeys. ] Then let's go clean up your face. You look awwwwwwwfuuuuuuuul, I barely even recognized you! You gotta stay out of places like this, stupid.
my baby boy makoto
[ It's a natural response in the perspective of someone who has that power; Obikawa has never been hesitant to kill, but he has shown restraint. Patient, as any other prey would when it uses the ability to disguise itself around it's environment before striking. Having held out for over a year once the humans had stolen his tail, the humiliation coating every bone in his ribcage with fire. Had he just an ounce more power their heads would be pierced by his fangs, bodies coiled and squeezed until they had suffocated their way down his stomach.
When collective stares and scowls turn to look at them both they're met with impassiveness as Makoto grabs a hold on his arm. A small cant of his head as his eyes narrow, the void behind them growing deeper, his pupils beginning to shift with a single blink of his eye. They could separate from the fight, but they'd only be offering a culling to a God all too prepared to kill.
And that's his third strike. As if it wasn't obvious that there something always off about the man that claimed himself to be a simple janitor -- it's only ever easier to hide when he has an objective, after all.
He blinks again, the instinct to kill vanishing as every word from Makoto lulls him back. He looks to him with curved brows, almost disappointed, paired with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. ] Is that what you want? [ He asks, just to be sure -- but there's certainty from the demon's expression that makes the answer all too obvious. Breathing out a sigh he decides to turn to leave, arm draped across smaller shoulders as he drags them away.
Temptation wanes, thinning into nothingness as Obikawa forces himself to remain obedient. He would have killed if given the permission, but without it he humbly obeys. ] Then let's go clean up your face. You look awwwwwwwfuuuuuuuul, I barely even recognized you! You gotta stay out of places like this, stupid.