[And Baren, being Baren, ignores the defiant little glower.]
He's a walking shitshow, Chuu.
[SAYS THE WALKING GARBAGEFIRE.]
Sure, he's talented - and if you tell him I said that, I'm never answering your texts again. But he's so.... [a vague wave of his hand] Prideful? Like he's made of greed but won't own it. I'm impressed enough that he was able to accept his own anger enough to hunt someone down. He's always kinda been all talk, no action.
What kind of god is that?
[It's Baren's brutal honesty. The kind that he doesn't even mean maliciously, for all his judgmental words, he sounds more confused than contemptible. As if Yato's just a puzzle that he doesn't get.
He walks back to the couch with a plate of rice and curry for himself, then handing one over to Chuuya.]
[he shouldn't remember that but he does. he opens his mouth to say something but he just barely catches himself from dropping his plate of curry. it clatters on the coffee table with how suddenly he places it down and his whole body freezes as he's hit with a memory.
greed, avarice, arrogance. it dwells within an ailing soul. the enemy of mankind.
It's weird how this knowledge slots into his memories like that, as if it's always been there even though he can't remember anyone ever telling him. Every 300 years, the creature of calamity will rise. What does that mean to him? What does that timeline even look like now?
There's a few more confused blinks, like he's trying to dispel the images in front of his eyes, before he glances back to Chuuya, clearly uncertain.
He's still so bad sharing.]
Some... kind of curse. Prophecy. I don't know.
[Or maybe he does. Sorting through the images is hard, picking his words is harder.]
[Chuuya cuts himself off there, swallowing his words. The uncertainty doesn't go unnoticed, and he knows Baren doesn't usually share, that he doesn't like being pressed.
Instead, he huffs a breath through his nose, shaking his head and combing fingers through Baren's hair.]
--nevermind. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. You need another drink, or-?
On all accounts, Chuuya's right. From his words to his gesture, it's all... correct? Which tells Baren a few things.
1. Chuuya understands him better than he expected. 2. Chuuya isn't going to push him when he doesn't want to be pushed. 3. Chuuya is willing to dance away from difficult subjects just for the sake of Baren not leaving.
All of it leads to something both rotten and warm swirling in the pit of his stomach, making him lean into the touch for the briefest moment, before he turns and just closes the space between the two of them with a kiss whenever Chuuya finishes talking.]
Or. I'll take Or.
Hey - finish dinner, I'll clean the kitchen and - I wanna pick up where we left off.
[Earlier. Before the memory stuff. To leave all of that behind before it plagues his mind too much.]
[He expected as much. And maybe he should think it's unfair, maybe he should push, but-- he knew all of this going in, didn't he? He wants to tell someone about his own memories; if Baren doesn't, it's not like he'll force it on him.
Besides, the kiss is a very good distraction.]
-Seriously? You're gonna say that and then make me wait for you to clean the damn kitchen?
[he sounds just so put upon-- but he's smiling slightly, regardless.]
[And Baren might need to eat too - but he can't say he has the appetite. Chuuya might find his plate covered and put away in the fridge as leftovers the next day.
Still, he manages a wink even as he stands and honestly just proves Chuuya right.]
Trust me. It'll be worth the wait - I don't plan on letting you get much sleep tonight.
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[immediately defensive, giving baren a defiant little glower. as if any of his people wouldn't be worth it??]
If having a shrine and being a patron god for the bar makes it any better for him, I'm gonna do it. You can think whatever you want about him.
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He's a walking shitshow, Chuu.
[SAYS THE WALKING GARBAGEFIRE.]
Sure, he's talented - and if you tell him I said that, I'm never answering your texts again. But he's so.... [a vague wave of his hand] Prideful? Like he's made of greed but won't own it. I'm impressed enough that he was able to accept his own anger enough to hunt someone down. He's always kinda been all talk, no action.
What kind of god is that?
[It's Baren's brutal honesty. The kind that he doesn't even mean maliciously, for all his judgmental words, he sounds more confused than contemptible. As if Yato's just a puzzle that he doesn't get.
He walks back to the couch with a plate of rice and curry for himself, then handing one over to Chuuya.]
I don't get it, but whatever.
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[listen, he has few illusions here. chuuya just shrugs, picking at the curry on his plate.]
And I'd rather have a flawed god I know than a perfect one who I don't. At least I know this one exists and is trying, y'know?
[another small bite, and he pauses, adding:]
Besides, he's important to Anya.
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[he shouldn't remember that but he does. he opens his mouth to say something but he just barely catches himself from dropping his plate of curry. it clatters on the coffee table with how suddenly he places it down and his whole body freezes as he's hit with a memory.
greed, avarice, arrogance. it dwells within an ailing soul. the enemy of mankind.
the orochi.
seal immediately upon - ]
Hunt...? Hunting it down?
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Shit, you too-- Baren? Hey, c'mon, are you with me?
[he leans in to peer worriedly at baren's face, there, checking his expression, making sure he's not still out of it.]
What was it?
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It's weird how this knowledge slots into his memories like that, as if it's always been there even though he can't remember anyone ever telling him. Every 300 years, the creature of calamity will rise. What does that mean to him? What does that timeline even look like now?
There's a few more confused blinks, like he's trying to dispel the images in front of his eyes, before he glances back to Chuuya, clearly uncertain.
He's still so bad sharing.]
Some... kind of curse. Prophecy. I don't know.
[Or maybe he does. Sorting through the images is hard, picking his words is harder.]
no subject
[Chuuya cuts himself off there, swallowing his words. The uncertainty doesn't go unnoticed, and he knows Baren doesn't usually share, that he doesn't like being pressed.
Instead, he huffs a breath through his nose, shaking his head and combing fingers through Baren's hair.]
--nevermind. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. You need another drink, or-?
no subject
On all accounts, Chuuya's right. From his words to his gesture, it's all... correct? Which tells Baren a few things.
1. Chuuya understands him better than he expected.
2. Chuuya isn't going to push him when he doesn't want to be pushed.
3. Chuuya is willing to dance away from difficult subjects just for the sake of Baren not leaving.
All of it leads to something both rotten and warm swirling in the pit of his stomach, making him lean into the touch for the briefest moment, before he turns and just closes the space between the two of them with a kiss whenever Chuuya finishes talking.]
Or. I'll take Or.
Hey - finish dinner, I'll clean the kitchen and - I wanna pick up where we left off.
[Earlier. Before the memory stuff. To leave all of that behind before it plagues his mind too much.]
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Besides, the kiss is a very good distraction.]
-Seriously? You're gonna say that and then make me wait for you to clean the damn kitchen?
[he sounds just so put upon-- but he's smiling slightly, regardless.]
You're the worst tease, Baren.
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[And Baren might need to eat too - but he can't say he has the appetite. Chuuya might find his plate covered and put away in the fridge as leftovers the next day.
Still, he manages a wink even as he stands and honestly just proves Chuuya right.]
Trust me. It'll be worth the wait - I don't plan on letting you get much sleep tonight.
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[Chuuya gives him a little nudge with his foot-- go on, go on, hurry up.]
Just try to make it quick in there.
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Now that's an idea.....
[And a laugh, breezy and easy, as if they hadn't spend the evening talking about things too heavy for the two of them. Murder, betrayal, curses...
He might be too excited to leave that far, far away - even if it means rushing to the arms of someone far, far too familiar.]