❪ introlog: #6 ❫ city of secrets

[natha]

You've spent the last few days on Thesa Station, taking in the knowledge that your world is no more. Now, the time to put all your survival training into practice has arrived: El Nysa needs you, and you're here to help the planet thrive. Are you ready? THE DESCENT     All refugees on the station are called to the hangar, where a large-scale teleporter awaits. Simply step onto the space between the arrays and wait; everyone will be sent down to the planet together. Before they depart, all refugees will be given a cold weather survival kit with warm clothing, rations, and bedding. The arrays build into a brilliant wash of light, creating a column that travels all the way from Thesa Station to the surface of El Nysa, teleporting the refugees to the planet on an aurora. Once on the planet's surface, refugees receive one last message from Darma. It has been a long, perilous year for you, refugees. And yet we must ask you to brave further peril. Within Nadril are the secrets to how poor Ysverai's revival was hidden from our sight and how this disaster has come to our star. Find the first refugee from beyond this planet, a man named Magda. He will not speak to us, for much has come between us, but to you… If you prove yourselves, he may be willing to answer your questions. We beseech you, for there is a veil over Nadril that hides all within from us. There may yet be more untold dangers waiting to befall this planet. For the good of all who make this world home, we ask you to lend us your aid. There is yet one more favor we would ask of you. In warding off the Storm's encroachment, the physical aspect of ourselves that you call Thesa Station was damaged. We must remain to continue repairs to El Nysa and to deal with Ysverai, but there should be suitable technology within Nadril that could be used for spare parts. If you have the chance to find it and can return it to us, it would hasten— Darma's message crackles with static, another image overlaying hers — her broadcast is cut off and replaced with another. A more sullen and alien voice takes Darma’s place, overlapping on itself in an ominous reveal. It has been a long, perilous year for you, refugees. And yet you’ve only just arrived here. To say I’m not disappointed in your… generation would be to lie, and I am nothing if not an honest creature. But I suppose these have been unusual circumstances. You must ask yourself this — are you only here as Darma's lapdogs? I can assure you, it's not worth being on the Natha's leash. With time, that will be something you'll have to learn for yourself. If you're so determined to come find Nadril, then follow the path north, and you'll find the border. What awaits you is revelation, if you're up to the challenge. A FROZEN LAND     The refugees land on a literally frozen world, both in temperature and time. Curls of icy wind hold swirls of snow aloft and an uncanny silence is broken only by the crunch of hoarfrost underfoot. Only Darma's protection allows the refugees to move through this frozen world — and movement is very necessary. Bitter cold sneaks through even the thickest clothing and without warning, a snowstorm rises: unnaturally quickly, a wall of white howls directly in the refugee's path. Bizarrely, the way back is perfectly calm; it's obvious that this storm is no product of nature. Magda's challenge becomes clear: the only way to Nadril lies through this storm. Visibility within the storm is near zero, the whiteout hiding any landmarks from view and making navigation near impossible. The only guidance refugees have is a sporadic path of faint, greenish lights, easily lost in the raging storm. Refugees need all the survival skills they practiced on Thesa Station to survive, for getting lost alone is a death sentence. Luckily, those separated from the group can happen upon guiding lights Magda has planted throughout the tundra. These blue-white sparks cause frostbite if handled recklessly, but they also serve as directional anchors, turning into ghostly flames that lead lost souls back to the path to Nadril. The trek through the storm will be no mean feat and will last for the better part of three days. By the time the refugees reach Nadril's gate, most will find themselves exhausted and running on fumes. As the snowstorm dies away and a gap in the glittering forcefield around the city opens to usher the refugees inside, it's clear that Nadril is a different beast. A WARM(?) WELCOME     I. Despite the unforgiving journey, entering Nadril is painless. Once inside, characters will be greeted by their predecessors: the original refugees who made this advanced city. They'll immediately be offered medical attention, as well as warm cider and blankets. But it's obvious that the Nadril citizens prefer higher tech to fend off the weather: they also offer wristlets and ear cuffs that that double as mittens and earmuffs by creating warm bubbles of air. The earrings also feature a few quality of life programs, such as timed alarms and thought-to-speech messaging. However, both programs are in beta stages so it's not unusual for a stray thought to accidentally slip through or an alarm to accidentally ring at an inopportune time. II. Refugees are offered free lodging in a large, crystalline building crafted from ice. Despite the coarse building material, the ice is unmelting and surprisingly well-insulated, and the beds are as warm and cozy. The rooms are, however, small. The sleeping quarters house two people, and are some cross between an igloo and a capsule hotel. Though built for efficiency over comfort, all rooms are also outfitted with the latest Nadril AI, RoboAlfred, or Ralf for short. This helpful program is installed in practically all the furnishings: the closet tells guests to bundle up, the bathroom sink reminds them to brush their teeth, and the mirror offers helpful fashion tips. Ralf's personality matrix still needs polish, though: it may very well insult your clothes and passively-aggressively question your lifestyle choices for the entire stay. III. Though not as advanced as Thesa Station, the colony has technology far beyond the rest of the continent, such as rudimentary AIs and mechanical transportation. Nadril's skyline is a point of pride — refugees can take a (literal) lightrail that gives an aerial view of the colony, which is hewn almost entirely from ice and rock. Despite its tech, Nadril is much more sparsely populated than Olympia and Wyver, and its residents stay near a central hub: a Natha refugee drop ship, Central, which has crashed and long embedded itself into the earth. Central is similar to an older, smaller, grounded model of Thesa Station, in functional order with round-the-clock solar power. Within Central are lounges similar to ones on the Station, though many of the damaged areas have been converted. They include repair stations, different wings dedicated to science, botany, astrology, and mechanics, and a research and history facility, which has a smattering of technology from planets beyond El Nysa — including your own. The staff here don't mind if anything is sampled and studied, but objects cannot be taken from the labs. IV. On the outskirts of the central hub, many will find several curious looking bots with insect-like wings perched about high traffic walkways. Simply passing the bots will cause a dizzying flash before a series of photos print out. Upon closer inspection, people will find that these images reflect stills taken from their home worlds as they remember it. Unfortunately, these photos only last a couple of hours at best. At that time, they will revert back to regular pictures of the refugees. People will be encouraged to share these images of their worlds. The residents of Nadril comprehend the value of remembering one's origins, and will be pleased to see that people still hold memories of old homes close to them. RECREATION IN NADRIL     I. Small, mechanical creatures scampering through the city are a common sight. Ask anyone, and they’ll tell you that they come from a shop called Paws About Town. They’re very useful, as companions, gophers, and couriers (though the more mischievous will note that they’re just small enough to keep tabs on people without being noticed). Premade robotic pets are available on display inside the shop. They come in all shapes, but small sizes; one may be able to find robots that even look like miniature creatures from their homeworld. These are a part of a new, highly customizable line with programmable personalities. Customers have the chance to take pets for a one-day trial run. Those who don’t know how to program may want to enlist more knowledgeable aid, but the pets come with instructional pamphlets for basic personality traits such as obedience, helpfulness, playfulness, and bloodthirst. For returns, the switch to wipe the robot's personality to a blank slate is on the back of its neck, right between a switch to invert all traits, and a switch to have them learn by observing. Try not to press the wrong switch — you might wind up with a pet with a mind of its own! II. A. The Frosty Tap Cantina is a thriving hub of activity, but one of the major draws is the self-service bar: molecular mixology is wildly popular here. Playing with drink compositions can be a game in and of itself, and newcomers to the cantina will find that the bartender — a cheerful woman with lilac skin and three eyes — is always happy to give them a few tips on how to use the wide array of tools within reach of the barstools. All manner of drinks are possible — from glowing, layered cocktails, to clear drinks with colored, spherical bubbles and vividly-colored shots that give off their own smoke. There's a nightly contest in the cantina for the most creative drink created by a team — this may be as good a time as any to partner up with someone and see what can you come up with. Winner gets all their drinks for the night free! And, hey, even if you don't win, you get to drink whatever you make. The well-lubricated patrons of the bar are eager to challenge anyone nearby to a different sort of drinking game… Just how well can you hold your liquor? B. Holo-screens in the cantina are nearly always broadcasting some match or another of a game that looks very much like hockey, albeit played with sticks that light up and a puck that changes shape from time to time. Colonists here merely refer to the game as "the sport," and one of their favored pastimes is betting. However, they don't use currency — they wager dares. Nadril colonists are a tough, weathered lot, and they prefer to speak with actions over silver. Colonists will urge the refugees to take part as well. Common dares range from the ridiculous (lead a sing-a-long, attempt to make someone with a poker face smile) to the suggestive (kiss the person in the cantina you find most attractive, strip off a piece of clothing), to the outright reckless (venture out into the snow for a certain amount of time, and no one will judge if you find some company to keep warm). The colonists are unfazed by even the most insane or tawdry of dares — but you'll certainly be called a killjoy for refusing too often! Why not grab a friend and give it a whirl, or challenge a rival to a dare yourself? THE MISSION     I. On the outskirts of Nadril is the communications tower of the old refugees. This is where Magda resides, monitoring Nadril's technological protections, the extent of the Natha’s influence, and running his own personal projects for El Nysa’s technological advancement. It is isolated, filled with research labs and relics of the past refugees who have come to El Nysa — a living mausoleum of worlds swallowed up by the Storm whose peoples have refused to forget where they came from. Crew photos line the walls of the tower: pictures of alien families and friends, the refugees who came to Nadril before you. Each group of photos gradually becomes smaller in number, and the most recent of the pictures are from half a century ago. Magda's picture can be found among the first group of refugees, an unusually small cluster of photos dating back centuries in El Nysa's past. I have been on this planet for nearly two centuries. Life has come, evolved, and collided in an ever expanding culture. But Darma fears interference, and made this place a prison, with she our warden, stifling the growth of the creatures native to this world rather than encouraging them to flourish. She sent you here for answers in her stead because she knows I'll spurn her, and after seeing what that fool Raysc has wrought, I'll give you them — not for Darma's sake, but because I trust after all the Natha have done to you, you'll understand my decision. Mistakes were made, and I won't hide them. You've made it here so there's some mettle to you, and unlike the Orbiters, I'm not interested in hiding the secrets of the dangers we face. I gave Raysc what he needed to keep his actions hidden from Darma's eyes — what he needed to advance the primitive magics the Natha had doomed him to. It was old Natha tech, Darma's very own used against her. Hilarious, isn't it? Raysc learned of Nadril, and like you, braved the snow to find his way here. He proved his worth and his determination, and he spoke of a brighter future, El Nysa coming into its own, its people realizing their true potential, unhindered by the shackles that had been put upon them. I believed him. He had vision — or so I thought. In truth, he was a fool. A madman. He wasted the opportunity I gave him on his petty vengeance. But not everyone on this planet is such an idiot. Surely you lot aren't. The Natha are hiding things from us — about the Storm, about everything. And here in Nadril, we're going to find all those secrets. What's it going to be? Will you help us, or are you going to stay obedient dogs on Darma's leash? Magda isn't too talkative yet; after all, the new flock of refugees may just be here as eyes and ears for the Orbiters. But what he has said leaves you with plenty to talk about, and if you can earn his trust by helping out around Nadril, he doubtless has a great deal more to reveal. II. Central isn't the only Natha ship that made its way to El Nysa — another, crashed just outside Nadril's borders, is little more than a junk heap. It's here that you'll find the spare parts Darma asked you to retrieve for Thesa Station. What remains of the ship's hull serves as a windbreak, and snow has built up against it, turning the piles of old Natha tech inside into something of a snowy morass. Holes in the deck offer would-be scavengers passage to the ship's innards, barely illuminated with flickering lights — the tech is old, but hardy enough to withstand a crash landing, the severe weather, and the passage of centuries. Deep in the wreck are the remains of living quarters, research labs, VR arenas, mecha bays, cafeterias, and a host of other rooms, many of which may seem familiar from Thesa Station, albeit with a decidedly older feel to what remains of the smooth curves and sleek surfaces of the Natha architecture. Most of the ship's systems are damaged and the technology is nonfunctional, but that just means there's plenty of spare parts to be found. The wreck isn't in the best shape, its structural integrity damaged, and the drifting snow threatens to block off exit routes. Be careful while exploring and be sure to bring a partner. As it turns out, Darma isn't the only one interested in the wreck — Magda is also eager to get his hands on Natha technology. In his own way of taking some responsibility for Raysc, he's asking scavengers to bring him parts, muttering about seeing what he can do about Ysverai's curse. Bring him anything that looks useful, and he may have a chance to succeed, though whether he'll be more effective than the Natha Orbiters is up for debate... FINAL OOC NOTES     An AC-eligible thread with a new character as a participant for 2 NADRIL REP POINTS may be submitted from this log. SUBMIT THE THREAD HERE BY AUGUST 5TH, 11:59 PM EST. As always, feel free to create your own prompts and explore the Nadril location page! There are a variety of activities made available, including fishing and cave exploration! Please direct questions to the questions thread below! Thank you! QUICK NAV premise ● faq ● lore ● map ● npcs taken ● atp/emp ● application ● rep/acp calendar ● hiatus/drops ● modbox [ FULL NAVIGATION ] elnysa nysalogs nysaisles nysaooc elnyan

Comments

[fisherwife]

[She doesn't look surprised by that, but her expression softens into something warm tinged with sadness.]

Yes, I know he does. He's always looked up to me-- Though I suppose that's figuratively speaking now. I know it's hard to believe now, but he did used to be half my size!

[reek]

[ My life was never my own.

He’s had so little control in his life. He had no say in being sent from home, he had no say whether or not he would be beheaded for his father’s misdeeds, he had no say in how people viewed him as a snake and a traitor long before he ever betrayed anyone. The one time he tried to take control for himself, it ended badly and he found himself in even worse hands, with even less control.

He gives an indignant huff, but he only fixes Kagari with a flat stare. ]

Do you really believe you have any control over any of what’s happened to you since you’ve been awake in this place? Your life isn't yours. The most you can do is walk away from me now.

[jesus_is_gundam]

[That's sort of where things had been for his world, before the Storm. There was peace, but it wasn't perfect, and there was still a lot left to clean up.]

I want to meet him sometime. And the rest of the Shepherds.

[fisherwife]

Shepherds...? [Mipha trails off, looking fairly perplexed. No offense Cordelia but you couldn't look less like a sheep herder if you tried.

But she smiles warmly, reassuring, and speaks gently] I'm sure one day they will. Not all at once, but it seems every month or so more and more wake up, so while it still might take quite some time, it will happen.

We'll all make it happen, if we must. [Some...how. Don't ask how, but they will!]

[cassus]

Would you really? [ Another laugh. ] Do you plan on using your hands to tear into me?

[ Dazai leans in, ghosting his words across the shell of Chuuya's ear. The freezing cold air may be formidable, but Dazai's breath is nothing short of scalding hot wherever it touches Chuuya's bare skin. ]

Or more interesting parts of your anatomy?

[ The middle of a blizzard is no place for pickup lines, let alone when the two of them are long past mere flirtations. Dazai keeps up the closeness all the same, his cocky grin entirely audible in a voice suddenly muffled against the shape of Chuuya's throat. ]

Why, that's easy. [ Are you ready for the most ridiculous answer ever? ] Reverse cowgirl, only with walking.

[ Dazai's hands have wandered lower, drifting like the snow from the sky. Only instead of melting whenever they touch Chuuya, his contact grows stronger, pressing the other man against his front. ]

You walk in front and... [ Yes, his hands are definitely on Chuuya's ass. ] I'll bring up your caboose.

[jesus_is_gundam]

Yes.

[He doesn't fancy himself a hero, but sitting around and doing nothing while people might be dying isn't something he can do.]

Wouldn't you?

[fisherwife]

[Mipha listens, careful and quiet, taking it all into consideration. When Mephisto questions trusting them, she lets out a little huff of amusement that's perhaps a little self-deprecating ]

I wanted to believe in something good, I suppose. I didn't see the point in going through all the trouble of caring for and helping us if there wasn't some genuine desire to help us in the wake of the Storm tragedy.

Although now I'm wondering if they aren't responsible for the Storms' destroying our homes to begin with... [She trails off and rests her head against his shoulder once more.] I suppose... I'm still a little naive about the way the world works. [Or she just really wanted something good to believe in after everything. Same difference?]

[jesus_is_gundam]

[He blinks a few times, trying to picture someone as tall as Sidon being smaller than Mipha.]

That must've been a very long time ago.

[lednikovyy]

It's a little gesture, but after years without little gestures, it's just as nice for Bucky when she leans against his shoulder. His family is long-gone and he really hasn't had the chance to rebuild his life at all. He's only just reconnected with his one friend in time for the world to end entirely.

"Sure. I can use the company." He smiles down at her.

If he's honest, he misses being needed and being able to take care of others. At one time, it had been such an essential part of how he'd seen himself, looking after his sisters and mother and Steve.

[lednikovyy]

Bucky isn't really sure about millennials, either, but he looks young enough that he can't reasonably pretend not to be one unless he wants to reveal more about himself than he'd like to spill to a stranger, so he just shakes his head at that, like he thinks it's a rhetorical question he's supposed to agree with. He figures being in the military is an alright excuse for being a little out of touch. He was off on long missions when he could have been keeping up with social media and whatever pop culture things people like these days.

As for his injuries, he's got sleeve on, but he's not exactly hiding the metal hand. Maybe it just looks like a glove from over there. Even without hiding it, he's not interested in drawing attention to it, either. It brings questions he doesn't want to answer, like how he lost his arm and where such an advanced prosthetic came from.

That thing about injuries that aren't visible, though? Oh, that gets his attention. The arm is nothing compared to what he's been through.

"Trust me, I know. I was a POW."

Twice, he doesn't say. The first time had been much shorter, but it had stuck with him during the rest of the war, unrelenting like the metal table he'd been strapped to in Azzano.

wildcard

[judicia]

( Anders has never been ice skating before, but you wouldn't be able to tell it just by looking at him. He's been at it for a while, falling on his ass and getting back up, working on getting his ice legs because it's something to do to keep himself busy. Anything to get him out of his room and keep him from going stir crazy.

He casts a haste spell on himself and turns a corner, circling around the large, frozen rink until he takes a turn a little too sharply. He's lucky he doesn't collide with someone as he goes down, his skates skidding as he falls flat on his side and groans. )

Pretend you didn't see that. ( He says, looking over at Jim nearby. )

[terrantrash]

Are you sure? I don't want to inconvenience you...

_{[Sure, Ren helped him out before back when he was buying baby supplies for the orphanage, and sure, he'd put in a good word there for the other boy to apply, but the last thing he wants is to take up someone else's time!!!]}

[maipokerface]

Of course not.

[How could she?]

A Wild Monk Has Appeared!

[smithandwesson]

... Eh? Smaller?

[Sanzo had been minding his own business throughout the greater half of the excursion. Doing his best to concentrate on gathering the artifacts they needed, seems he had a single-minded mission in gathering as many of these supplies as quickly as possible.

Which was why he seemed a little thrown off when he finally heard someone speak up.]

What's smaller?

[He had been holding a small sack of supplies himself, although truthfully he was having a hard time telling what was important and what wasn't.]

[pussywhips]

[ This feels kind of like a Palace, one they may have even already been to before. Ann almost expects Shadows to pounce on them at any moment—almost. For one thing, she isn't in her catsuit—and for another, it's way too quiet. Seriously, the only noise in the sound of her boots (just hers, since Futaba is floating) scraping against the floor as they make their way down the hall—

And then Futaba clattering to the ground, making Ann jump nearly out of her skin. Then she whips around, her eyes wide. ]

Whoa! Hey—what happened?

[morbide]

[Returning her smile, Henry belts out a single laugh and leans forward, placing his palms flat against the wood of the seat beneath him.]

You're the first person to step right up to the challenge! I wonder if that means you're trying to beat me? But all right, I'll give you a dare. Let's see...

[A moment of serious thought is dedicated to coming up with a dare that aligns with the nature of the Cantina, complete with Henry tipping his head toward his shoulder until he lights up with epiphany.]

Oh. How about this: I win, and you let me try out a curse of my choosing on you. Oooo-ooooo... [To mark how horrifying this might be, Henry makes sure to raise his hands and wiggle his fingers all spooky-like at her. After dropping his hands, he laughs again.] It'll be fun! Who knows what I'll pick? I've been told I'm pretty whimsical, you know. Oh, but I've been meaning to try out this curse that effectively makes a person into a fish, gills and all...

[Is he serious? It's so hard to tell... Henry scoots forward on his seat.] How about it?

b. pls love me

[pussywhips]

[ This skinny teenage girl, apparently. Despite all appearances, she's too much of a do-gooder to ignore a pretty clear call for aid, even if it's a robotic call. So she follows the chirping, sticking her head into the room without the rest of her body, her blonde pigtails swaying. ]

Um, hello? Is everything okay in here?

[ Finally, she spots the man lying on the bed, groaning, and her eyebrows pull together with clear concern. ]

Hey, you all right?

[morbide]

[Henry points to himself with a finger, and lets that finger poke against his cheek.]

I'm a dark mage! Roots don't get much more twisted and sinister than that. We're those guys who curse people under our breaths and actually make those curses into bloody, gruesome reality. [Henry talks with emphatic peppiness, a stark contrast against his talk of Evil Dark Wizards Who Perform Blood Magic.] Not just anybody ends up that way, but it's definitely the best. I wouldn't stop being a hex-hurler for nothin'.

[For as socially graceless as Henry is about himself, he's not unable to read into the way Chuuya inquires. Henry, too, tips his head at his company.]

I'm gonna guess you might have something to say about sinister? You offered the least amount of resistance to my drink, you know. [And THAT... has proven difficult. Congratulations.] You even said you thought it could kill you, but you drank it anyway. And I don't think it's because I look innocent.

[luxoraculi]

[ Oh, how she does wish that she could do or say something to wipe that look right off of that face of his. Fortunately for them both, she is more... diplomatic than that. ]

I cannot even begin to fathom why no one would want to ask you such questions. Though I would imagine that you have been met with much contempt by those from our star.

[ And by much, she means an endless amount of hatred and anger! Something that she does not, in fact, plan on mirroring or throwing at him at the moment. But it's the next bit that she focuses on -- so. He and Noctis both, then. ]

I am afraid that it means very little to me at the moment, Chancellor. [ Which is not true at all. She's heard a bit about the future of their world, overrun by darkness and daemons... but that is all said and done now. Now she finds herself wondering how the difference in time is even possible. ]

I also remember a Storm... I suppose what I am wondering about the most right now is how it is possible for you, further along by ten years, can recall the same Storm. Do you not find it strange that we both witnessed the same phenomenon years apart?

lmk if this isn't cool c:

[hedonistic]

Who said anything about control?

[Kagari's certainly never had any of that in his entire life. He started off a caged prisoner and ended up a leashed dog before he finally died. Even here, he knows the freedom he has is at the pleasure of the Natha. He's never doubted that for a second. But that doesn't change how he feels.]

I'm talking about surviving, dumbass. Being under someone's thumb is just more reason to care about surviving, 'cause that's all you've got left sometimes.

[Something nasty sparks in his expression, then. Suddenly, he steps forward and shoves Theon backward, aiming to take advantage of his poor balance to send him toppling back into the snow.]

What if I were to try to kill you right now? Would you just roll over and die, or would you fight me?

[He wouldn't, of course. As much as he claims to be trash, there are lines he wouldn't cross--killing someone (especially someone as frail-seeming as Theon) for no reason is one of them. But there's just enough of a manic glint to his eyes, the edge of something vicious in his voice, that it could be taken as a serious threat.]

[reek]

Throw them back if they’re too small, keep them if you plan on eating them.

[ He’s thrown back several, but he’s kept a handful of them. He’s doing this more for the mental escape than anything, but he suspects that his roommate has never eaten seafood, and he’s missed it quite a bit himself. A dinner wouldn’t go amiss.

He glances at the fish on Bree’s line, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a ghost of a smirk. ]

That should be good for about two bites.

[reek]

[ He is in his head, but not too deeply. Thoughts mostly flit back and forth, and he doesn’t hyper focus on just one. When he does that, that’s when he’s in trouble. He chances a glance at her when she breaks the silence, but it takes him a moment to respond. ]

I don’t have anything to say that you haven’t already heard. I think I’ve told you more than I’ve told anyone in my life.

[ It makes him sad, really. He was friends with Robb for half his life, yet they shared so little. ]

[morbide]

[Diana is totally in the right, there. Henry looks down at his drink quietly, then back to her, then back to his drink.

It sinks lower, away from her.]

Soooo... is that a no?

[nineteenfortyfive]

[It makes her sad, too. He shouldn't have had to wait until a Storm destroyed his world and he crossed paths with her.]

I'm glad it's me.

[At least if it's taken him this long to have someone to confide in, she's certain she's been doing her best for him. Listening, forgiving where she can, and accepting the rest. A lot of it has been difficult to swallow, but she's been able to be there for him. It's more than he's had before.]

[thetaintedsorrow]

Both if you keep it up, you waste of bandages.

[The words fall flat when Chuuya’s face turns such a pretty shade of red, but he’ll definitely blame that on the cold and not how flustered he is. As if anybody would actually buy that.

It’s really not fair how Dazai zeroes in on a well known weak spot of Chuuya’s, and yet he doesn’t pull away, his entire body flooding with heat when he’s pressed against Dazai’s front.]

That’s not gonna work and you know it. Walk on your own.

[Except Chuuya is loathe to break contact when it’s this cold outside, even with those hands on his ass.]

I’m not budging.