[Lies and honesty are most profitable when they're given in equal doses. Takasugi isn't precisely mindful of the balance he keeps between the two, but he doesn't withhold truths when they serve him. Like now - even if the only benefit he reaps from his integrity is proving the blonde wrong.
His smile grows, even as the rank air of the giant insect's dying body assaults his senses. It leaves his mouth tasting acidic, the back of his throat clenching reactively to the stench.]
You'll need to change first. No one will believe you, looking like a derelict.
[He brushes off the threat - because it isn't one. Takasugi treats Solomon's growing list of grievances like a high score board. He's one of those kids that keeps playing in the arcade until every entry is his stupid handle.
If he had a table cloth, he'd be offering it.
Their long walk to Wyver is mostly silent; Takasugi smokes, and maybe they bicker a bit. Whatever it is, it's awkward.
When they reach his place, it's just as shitty as it was last time Solomon came over. Takasugi doesn't bother holding the door open for his guest - the wood more or less congeals with the wall when it touches it, sticking in place.
He disappears down a hallway that's too dark to make out as anything other than grime on a wall, and return to hold out a (mostly) white towel. No commentary offered.
It's for Solomon to clean up with, but he's left to make his own conclusions.]
no subject
His smile grows, even as the rank air of the giant insect's dying body assaults his senses. It leaves his mouth tasting acidic, the back of his throat clenching reactively to the stench.]
You'll need to change first. No one will believe you, looking like a derelict.
[He brushes off the threat - because it isn't one. Takasugi treats Solomon's growing list of grievances like a high score board. He's one of those kids that keeps playing in the arcade until every entry is his stupid handle.
If he had a table cloth, he'd be offering it.
Their long walk to Wyver is mostly silent; Takasugi smokes, and maybe they bicker a bit. Whatever it is, it's awkward.
When they reach his place, it's just as shitty as it was last time Solomon came over. Takasugi doesn't bother holding the door open for his guest - the wood more or less congeals with the wall when it touches it, sticking in place.
He disappears down a hallway that's too dark to make out as anything other than grime on a wall, and return to hold out a (mostly) white towel. No commentary offered.
It's for Solomon to clean up with, but he's left to make his own conclusions.]