[Thanks to the efforts of their lovely healers, Akira has once again managed to narrowly skirt death. Solomon's cooking was... edible, at least initially, but Akira never could have imagined it sitting in his gut like a bomb ticking down and going off at the worst possible moment.
Man, he must've looked like a loser lying face down on the floor like that. How could Solomon make him look so lame? He's supposed to back him up. Wingman him. Trying to kill his ass with omurice is so uncool.
But you know what? It's fine. Akira's decided to take a page out of Jesus' book and has turned the other cheek, graciously letting Solomon in at whatever late hour he comes knocking. He didn't mean to kill him with his atrocious cooking, Akira's sure, but if by chance he did, Akira has yet another reason to grow stronger than him and surpass his ass: coldblooded murder.
He's still a bit lethargic, but he's steady on his feet, sweeping his arm out with a flourish to welcome Solomon in.]
Welcome to my humble abode. Please tell me you didn't bring any midnight snacks.
[The disappearance of the body so suddenly isn't exactly something Solomon can ignore, even among all the pointing fingers and judgmental (lol) conclusions. Tatara being unusually calm about the entire situation, however, is what keeps the sorcerer from jumping into any further action.
Tatara has seen worse, this he knows by now. Tatara was concerned about wizards killing one another off. If Tatara was this relaxed, then Akira's situation wasn't an irreversible one.
It's why he slips down the halls to try and locate Akira's room, knocking when he finds it and offering a smile that doesn't reach his eyes when the teen answers the door.
Man. He sure does look rough.]
I'm afraid not. [He'll make his way in, keeping his eye on Akira to see what kind of state he's in as he moves and talks.]
It's good to see you're still in one piece. Do you remember what happened?
[Thanks to Ahito's and Bruno's efforts, Akira isn't quite as feeble-bodied now as he was earlier. Without his glasses, it's that much easier to get a look at his face which, thankfully, has regained some color. Though Akira remains a clammy and disheveled mess, he's doing just fine.
Akira meanders his way over to the couch and pats the cushion beside him. Solomon is clearly unsettled to some degree or another, but Akira isn't letting him remain mired in his upset. Come, take a load off. They're long overdue for a "chat".]
I do now. Your omurice nearly sent me to the afterlife. Is your magic to blame, or is your cooking just that lethal?
[Oh, Solomon... Akira's quite certain he means no harm, but his foul cooking is no joke. He wistfully sighs and shakes his head. Not mad, just disappointed...]
You ever heard the saying "love hurts"? I'm sure your heart was in the right place, but there's more to cooking than good intentions.
[Sorry Solomon, but you are hereby banned from the kitchen. If Akira catches you in there, he's chasing you out with the broom.]
No, nothing like that. If we were somewhere with something that could handle arsenic, that's a different story. [Did u know demons like hemlock in their salads? Inconvenient.] But I'd rather assume everyone here is just as human as I am.
It's why I test everything I try. There's no point in putting special ingredients in otherwise.
[Solomon, what are you? Actually, hold that thought. Akira rises somewhat abruptly and disappears further into his room. After some rummaging and clattering around, he returns to drop a towel right on Solomon's face.]
You. Me. A threesome with a steaming hot bath. Let's go.
[Solomon can't dodge Akira's barrage of questions when he's naked and stranded alone with him. Do not ever question Akira's flawless logic.]
Well that wasn't what he was expecting, given that he takes that towel straight to the face without much reflex. His entire face pulls into a puzzled mess as he pulls the fabric down into his arms.]
[Confirming, firmly and with thinly veiled amusement:]
Right now.
[What's there to be confused about? Solomon owes him. Circling the couch, Akira yanks the towel off Solomon's face and pouts at him.]
After all, you nearly killed me. You owe me so much more than washing my back. Hell, I should make you wash my hair too. If you do it wrong and it frizzes up, that's another ten years of your life you'll spend serving me.
What, afraid of commitment? It's not like I'm asking for your soul.
[Akira's signed a contract under duress and nothing bad (citation needed) happened to him. What's the worst that could happen?
Anyway, excuse him while he fetches a towel for himself and a change of clothes. If Akira has to spend another minute marinating in this stuffy ballroom attire, he'll combust. With clothes and toiletries in hand, he'll wait for Solomon by the door.]
[A brief moment of confusion, but it doesn't last. As they make their way out of his room and head down the hall, Akira simply shrugs.]
I don't know about you, but I keep my promises.
[...So he says, and so he tries, but Akira hesitates just long enough to suggest that maybe, just maybe, there's a promise or two he's failed to keep. That gives him pause.]
[He sees that hesitation that speaks volumes, and he lets it provide enough of an answer on its own merit.]
So long as you know as much. I already gave Dror a talking to about it. Whether he followed up or not, I'm not sure.
If it were my pupils, though? I wouldn't want to downplay something that could cripple them so easily. Words and intentions are both a powerful thing in magic.
[No one ever really moves past failing spectacularly, do they? You could save the whole world, prevent countless casualties, but the one person you failed to protect is the one that sticks with you forever.
Alas. Akira dismisses the thought with a sigh. Why spare his fuckups any thought when they regularly come to him in his dreams? He'll deal with them then, rounding the corner and propping open the bathroom door for Solomon. Grandpas get to go in first.]
Maybe losing all your magic is a fitting punishment for making a promise you can't keep. Not gonna lie, I thought that's what happened to me when I wound up here and couldn't use any of my abilities. It's like...
[Akira looks down at his empty hand, furling and unfurling his fingers, trying to grasp at the words that elude him.]
...Getting gutted, totally emptied out. When they said what they did about promises, I'd wondered if that's why that world inside of me had suddenly disappeared.
Going from the roar of the ocean to a dripping faucet isn't exactly something I want to repeat, either. It's hard to feel that part of yourself suddenly vanish.
[Don't mind him just dropping his towel off to the side for a moment as he goes to inspect the bath enchantment. Might as well get the temperature running.]
I'm glad you seem to have gotten a little more perspective, though... what do you mean by "a world inside of you"?
[The roar of the ocean, huh? Akira had likened the contents of his own soul to the sea, vast and deep and dark, his potential just as limitless. Maybe it's no different for Solomon. Waking to the sound of silence in place of crashing waves is disconcerting to say the least, but there's some comfort to be found in knowing he isn't alone.
While Solomon prepares the bath, Akira works himself out of layers of gaudy ballroom attire. It's a shame he didn't get to strut around like a peacock, but his chance will inevitably come again, and when it does, good fucking luck everyone.]
I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.
[Come to think of it, he's never confided in anyone regarding his nature as a Wildcard. There was no one he could confide in, leaving his troubles to the wayside so his comrades and friends never had to worry about their leader crumbling.
It can't hurt to have a confidant, can it? He won't dodge Solomon's question, but for context, he'll need to first ask one of his own.]
Everyone I care about has a special place in my heart, but would you believe me if I told you that's more than just a metaphor? What do bonds mean to you, Solomon?
[Oh? Here he was bracing for Akira to keep up that little joke and maintain his secrecy.
He's not making any movement to get undressed quite yet, though he does at least slip his shoes off as he casts a simple enchantment to get the warmth going. Not too hot, because grandpa is a delicate little flower.]
It depends what sort you mean, of course. They're extremely important in magic for a reason.
But I think a true bond - one with care in mind, with someone who matters a lot to you - those are a blessing. Something to be cherished for as long as you can.
Feelings are the most powerful thing we have, after all.
[Oh grandpa... just wait until Akira gets his hands on that bathwater. If Solomon was allowed to almost kill him with his cooking, Akira's allowed to practice his magic on the bathwater they're both about to steep themselves in.
Clothes neatly folded and put away, Akira wraps a towel around his waist and pads over to the bath proper. Taking a knee, he dips his hand in the water to gauge the temperature. Damn, lukewarm at best. Solomon really is a delicate little flower.]
I agree with you completely. The source of my power came from those bonds I forged. I thought I'd done my time, but now it looks like I'm starting all over.
[With a flick of his wrist and an incantation, Akira produces a glowing card and offers it to Solomon.]
But that's fine with me. I'm not the only fool starting his journey all over again. Take this.
[Now go get naked so he can fuck with the bathwater while you're not looking.]
[Starting his journey, a power that forms from bonds... how uncanny. It looks like the teen has a flair for the theatrical as well. A little dramatic, but he remembers being that way when he was a child, when the wonder of it still felt new.
Solomon takes the card delicately between two of his fingers, lifting up to his feet to see the face -- ah, he recognizes this motif. The good old Fool.]
A Major Arcana, hm? [He lifts the card into the air, letting it levitate in a gentle spin as he shrugs his coat off. His back is turned, Akira, you have full reign to act quickly.] A bit overdone, but you can't go too wrong with a classic.
[Akira's incantation plays along his lips, silent save for the quietest of whispers while Solomon's back is turned. The water shudders in response, undulates and swirls and dyes itself a deep, ethereal red. Well, that could've turned out worse, couldn't it?
Akira dips a foot in the water and marvels as it tingles, warm and cool at the same time but not at all unpleasant. While grandpa undresses, Akira sets his towel aside and lowers himself into the water, marveling at his own handiwork. Solomon had better be impressed.]
Call it a hunch or maybe an educated guess. You deflect whenever the subject shifts to you, but I know you've lived an interesting life. You've got that air about you.
[But the real answer goes unsaid while Akira takes his time picking at Solomon: We're a lot alike, aren't we? I wonder what your trials were like.]
[The statement walks the thin line between playful and foreboding, a quiet and deep path to his voice. But he doesn't stop what he's doing, pausing only to make sure they have no extra company.
Off comes the belt and one of the rings, though the one on his middle finger stays put. With a deep inhale, he tucks his fingers under the fabric of his turtleneck, stripping it up and off and letting his bare skin breathe in the humid air.
[That fine line is like catnip to someone like Akira. Does Solomon think that will give Akira pause even for a moment? That, and he very much doubts Solomon is unaware of the hold he has on Akira. Surely that means he's aware of the consequences here?
Akira turns, primed to say as much, but... ah. Those tattoos. His immediate thought is that this man has ties to the Yakuza, maybe even the mafia, but they're not the tribal marks and ornate dragons a member of the Yakuza would brand into their skin. They're rather occult, which is fitting for a wizard, but even that explanation isn't quite enough.]
...Yeah. I call bullshit on that.
[Pardon the stare, but he wants Solomon to know that he sees the intricate marks all over his bare chest and doesn't believe for a second that he doesn't have one hell of a story to tell. He'd best believe Akira isn't letting him go until he hears it.]
[He takes note of the stare out of the corner of his eye, then the color of the water, his smile quirking slightly as he turns fully away to remove the rest of his clothing. They don't stop at his chest - over his back, shoulders, down his entire abdomen, pelvis, his legs and arms...]
In a way. I'm afraid they're just for show right now.
[The towel comes to the rescue, Solomon wrapping it just snug enough as he grabs the Arcana card and places it with the rest of his belongings. No need to spoil that.
With that, he strolls over to the deep red pool that is now their bath. He can sense that magic of yours, sir, like coffee on a morning breeze.]
Very good. I hope you made sure not to make us look like another horrible accident if we sit in here too long?
[Not that that's going to stop him from stepping right in, a mild start shooting up his back at the unexpected heat. Ah, he changed the temperature, too... that's unfortunate.
The red around Solomon dissipates slightly at his own incantation, a temporary cooling so that he can adjust as he removes his towel and settles in. Think the river from prince of egypt, that kind of vibes.]
Are your cards related to yours? [A tilt of his head against the back of the bath, inquisitive.] It's not often I get a token from another magic user.
["In a way," huh? So cryptic... but what did Akira expect Solomon to say? The outright truth? Not even for a second.
As if that could possibly discourage Akira. If Solomon isn't going to forbid him from staring, then he's going to keep on staring, studying the stories written out all over his bare skin. It's like reading a novel in English, the context meaning more to Akira than the words themselves. The only problem is that Solomon is refusing to give him that context.
Fine. Refuse all you like, old man. You won't win this game.]
What's the harm? They'll just think you came back to finish the job.
[Solomon answered his own question rather flippantly, so Akira returns the favor, scooting forward to he can squint at the intricate tattoo marking the front of Solomon's chest.]
Maybe, maybe not. More importantly, what's this one mean?
[He plants his palm on Solomon's sternum like he owns it (19). Spit it out or he's never taking his hand off these tits.]
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post-prom night death
Man, he must've looked like a loser lying face down on the floor like that. How could Solomon make him look so lame? He's supposed to back him up. Wingman him. Trying to kill his ass with omurice is so uncool.
But you know what? It's fine. Akira's decided to take a page out of Jesus' book and has turned the other cheek, graciously letting Solomon in at whatever late hour he comes knocking. He didn't mean to kill him with his atrocious cooking, Akira's sure, but if by chance he did, Akira has yet another reason to grow stronger than him and surpass his ass: coldblooded murder.
He's still a bit lethargic, but he's steady on his feet, sweeping his arm out with a flourish to welcome Solomon in.]
Welcome to my humble abode. Please tell me you didn't bring any midnight snacks.
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Tatara has seen worse, this he knows by now. Tatara was concerned about wizards killing one another off. If Tatara was this relaxed, then Akira's situation wasn't an irreversible one.
It's why he slips down the halls to try and locate Akira's room, knocking when he finds it and offering a smile that doesn't reach his eyes when the teen answers the door.
Man. He sure does look rough.]
I'm afraid not. [He'll make his way in, keeping his eye on Akira to see what kind of state he's in as he moves and talks.]
It's good to see you're still in one piece. Do you remember what happened?
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Akira meanders his way over to the couch and pats the cushion beside him. Solomon is clearly unsettled to some degree or another, but Akira isn't letting him remain mired in his upset. Come, take a load off. They're long overdue for a "chat".]
I do now. Your omurice nearly sent me to the afterlife. Is your magic to blame, or is your cooking just that lethal?
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[By now he has had SO many people yelling at him about this that the subject just makes him tired. Even across worlds, he can't catch a break.
He lets out a sigh as he lowers himself to a seat with a fluttering of the ends of his coat.]
My cooking isn't made to be lethal, no, magic or otherwise. I make it for myself, and for the people I enjoy being around.
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You ever heard the saying "love hurts"? I'm sure your heart was in the right place, but there's more to cooking than good intentions.
[Sorry Solomon, but you are hereby banned from the kitchen. If Akira catches you in there, he's chasing you out with the broom.]
What'd you put in that omurice anyway? Arsenic?
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No, nothing like that. If we were somewhere with something that could handle arsenic, that's a different story. [Did u know demons like hemlock in their salads? Inconvenient.] But I'd rather assume everyone here is just as human as I am.
It's why I test everything I try. There's no point in putting special ingredients in otherwise.
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[Solomon, what are you? Actually, hold that thought. Akira rises somewhat abruptly and disappears further into his room. After some rummaging and clattering around, he returns to drop a towel right on Solomon's face.]
You. Me. A threesome with a steaming hot bath. Let's go.
[Solomon can't dodge Akira's barrage of questions when he's naked and stranded alone with him. Do not ever question Akira's flawless logic.]
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[???????????????
Well that wasn't what he was expecting, given that he takes that towel straight to the face without much reflex. His entire face pulls into a puzzled mess as he pulls the fabric down into his arms.]
Pardon... now? Where did that come from?
[Though confused, he doesn't sound offended.]
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Right now.
[What's there to be confused about? Solomon owes him. Circling the couch, Akira yanks the towel off Solomon's face and pouts at him.]
After all, you nearly killed me. You owe me so much more than washing my back. Hell, I should make you wash my hair too. If you do it wrong and it frizzes up, that's another ten years of your life you'll spend serving me.
[Since when did they form this pact????????]
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He stifles a laugh as he smoothes out his own hair with his fingers.]
Servitude? Now now, careful with that, Akira. That's a dangerous line of talk for a wizard.
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[Akira's signed a contract under duress and nothing bad (citation needed) happened to him. What's the worst that could happen?
Anyway, excuse him while he fetches a towel for himself and a change of clothes. If Akira has to spend another minute marinating in this stuffy ballroom attire, he'll combust. With clothes and toiletries in hand, he'll wait for Solomon by the door.]
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[Does he Not Know, though? Oh..... oh dear...
Sighing, he watches Akira mill about, folding his towel into his lap and standing with a resigned smile to follow the teen out of the room.]
I was serious, by the way. Did Tatara and our little sparrow not tell you what happens?
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[A brief moment of confusion, but it doesn't last. As they make their way out of his room and head down the hall, Akira simply shrugs.]
I don't know about you, but I keep my promises.
[...So he says, and so he tries, but Akira hesitates just long enough to suggest that maybe, just maybe, there's a promise or two he's failed to keep. That gives him pause.]
I don't make them lightly. Not anymore.
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So long as you know as much. I already gave Dror a talking to about it. Whether he followed up or not, I'm not sure.
If it were my pupils, though? I wouldn't want to downplay something that could cripple them so easily. Words and intentions are both a powerful thing in magic.
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Alas. Akira dismisses the thought with a sigh. Why spare his fuckups any thought when they regularly come to him in his dreams? He'll deal with them then, rounding the corner and propping open the bathroom door for Solomon. Grandpas get to go in first.]
Maybe losing all your magic is a fitting punishment for making a promise you can't keep. Not gonna lie, I thought that's what happened to me when I wound up here and couldn't use any of my abilities. It's like...
[Akira looks down at his empty hand, furling and unfurling his fingers, trying to grasp at the words that elude him.]
...Getting gutted, totally emptied out. When they said what they did about promises, I'd wondered if that's why that world inside of me had suddenly disappeared.
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Going from the roar of the ocean to a dripping faucet isn't exactly something I want to repeat, either. It's hard to feel that part of yourself suddenly vanish.
[Don't mind him just dropping his towel off to the side for a moment as he goes to inspect the bath enchantment. Might as well get the temperature running.]
I'm glad you seem to have gotten a little more perspective, though... what do you mean by "a world inside of you"?
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While Solomon prepares the bath, Akira works himself out of layers of gaudy ballroom attire. It's a shame he didn't get to strut around like a peacock, but his chance will inevitably come again, and when it does, good fucking luck everyone.]
I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.
[Come to think of it, he's never confided in anyone regarding his nature as a Wildcard. There was no one he could confide in, leaving his troubles to the wayside so his comrades and friends never had to worry about their leader crumbling.
It can't hurt to have a confidant, can it? He won't dodge Solomon's question, but for context, he'll need to first ask one of his own.]
Everyone I care about has a special place in my heart, but would you believe me if I told you that's more than just a metaphor? What do bonds mean to you, Solomon?
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He's not making any movement to get undressed quite yet, though he does at least slip his shoes off as he casts a simple enchantment to get the warmth going. Not too hot, because grandpa is a delicate little flower.]
It depends what sort you mean, of course. They're extremely important in magic for a reason.
But I think a true bond - one with care in mind, with someone who matters a lot to you - those are a blessing. Something to be cherished for as long as you can.
Feelings are the most powerful thing we have, after all.
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Clothes neatly folded and put away, Akira wraps a towel around his waist and pads over to the bath proper. Taking a knee, he dips his hand in the water to gauge the temperature. Damn, lukewarm at best. Solomon really is a delicate little flower.]
I agree with you completely. The source of my power came from those bonds I forged. I thought I'd done my time, but now it looks like I'm starting all over.
[With a flick of his wrist and an incantation, Akira produces a glowing card and offers it to Solomon.]
But that's fine with me. I'm not the only fool starting his journey all over again. Take this.
[Now go get naked so he can fuck with the bathwater while you're not looking.]
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Solomon takes the card delicately between two of his fingers, lifting up to his feet to see the face -- ah, he recognizes this motif. The good old Fool.]
A Major Arcana, hm? [He lifts the card into the air, letting it levitate in a gentle spin as he shrugs his coat off. His back is turned, Akira, you have full reign to act quickly.] A bit overdone, but you can't go too wrong with a classic.
Why designate that for me, though?
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Akira dips a foot in the water and marvels as it tingles, warm and cool at the same time but not at all unpleasant. While grandpa undresses, Akira sets his towel aside and lowers himself into the water, marveling at his own handiwork. Solomon had better be impressed.]
Call it a hunch or maybe an educated guess. You deflect whenever the subject shifts to you, but I know you've lived an interesting life. You've got that air about you.
[But the real answer goes unsaid while Akira takes his time picking at Solomon: We're a lot alike, aren't we? I wonder what your trials were like.]
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[The statement walks the thin line between playful and foreboding, a quiet and deep path to his voice. But he doesn't stop what he's doing, pausing only to make sure they have no extra company.
Off comes the belt and one of the rings, though the one on his middle finger stays put. With a deep inhale, he tucks his fingers under the fabric of his turtleneck, stripping it up and off and letting his bare skin breathe in the humid air.
It's immediately apparent why this man is seemingly allergic to showing any skin.]
Maybe my life simply has nothing interesting to share.
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Akira turns, primed to say as much, but... ah. Those tattoos. His immediate thought is that this man has ties to the Yakuza, maybe even the mafia, but they're not the tribal marks and ornate dragons a member of the Yakuza would brand into their skin. They're rather occult, which is fitting for a wizard, but even that explanation isn't quite enough.]
...Yeah. I call bullshit on that.
[Pardon the stare, but he wants Solomon to know that he sees the intricate marks all over his bare chest and doesn't believe for a second that he doesn't have one hell of a story to tell. He'd best believe Akira isn't letting him go until he hears it.]
Are those related to your magic?
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In a way. I'm afraid they're just for show right now.
[The towel comes to the rescue, Solomon wrapping it just snug enough as he grabs the Arcana card and places it with the rest of his belongings. No need to spoil that.
With that, he strolls over to the deep red pool that is now their bath. He can sense that magic of yours, sir, like coffee on a morning breeze.]
Very good. I hope you made sure not to make us look like another horrible accident if we sit in here too long?
[Not that that's going to stop him from stepping right in, a mild start shooting up his back at the unexpected heat. Ah, he changed the temperature, too... that's unfortunate.
The red around Solomon dissipates slightly at his own incantation, a temporary cooling so that he can adjust as he removes his towel and settles in. Think the river from prince of egypt, that kind of vibes.]
Are your cards related to yours? [A tilt of his head against the back of the bath, inquisitive.] It's not often I get a token from another magic user.
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As if that could possibly discourage Akira. If Solomon isn't going to forbid him from staring, then he's going to keep on staring, studying the stories written out all over his bare skin. It's like reading a novel in English, the context meaning more to Akira than the words themselves. The only problem is that Solomon is refusing to give him that context.
Fine. Refuse all you like, old man. You won't win this game.]
What's the harm? They'll just think you came back to finish the job.
[Solomon answered his own question rather flippantly, so Akira returns the favor, scooting forward to he can squint at the intricate tattoo marking the front of Solomon's chest.]
Maybe, maybe not. More importantly, what's this one mean?
[He plants his palm on Solomon's sternum like he owns it (19). Spit it out or he's never taking his hand off these tits.]
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