NOCT OVERFLOW

[swordhardy]

OVERFLOW & EVENTS

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[swordhardy]

Hoooho. [ there's a short bark of laughter at Shinsou's impression, the daemon's brow scrunching up as goosebumps flush across his naked arms and chest in sharp pavlovian response to that familiar thuggish cadence, ] That sent chills down my spine. Spot on.

[ He's heard that particular line probably about sixty thousand times since they met—which is somehow going on four years now. In fact, he's almost surprised that Guanshan didn't kick down the door before just to tell him to shut the fuck up about swords and their materials. They talk about basically everything and anything, but Rokurou's love of blades has always been something of a sore nerve (bless mgs for dealing with his special interest for this long, he's a saint in dropcrotch joggers). ]

It's either that or, [ switching up his own smooth with a hint of rasp tone, the daemon leans in heavily to thin out his voice and exaggerate diction, ] Shut t'fuck up about swords, m'tired'a heaaaaarin' that shiiiiit.

[ Ahhhhh, nothing quite like robustly making fun of someone behind their back.

Knowing better than to molest Shinsou's hair forever, Rokurou draws his hand back, not looking too upset about the fact that the question hadn't been born of fledgling sword love. A little disappointed, maybe, but he's long since passed the point of taking whatever he can get. He's snapping up the scraps, here. ]

Well, Shinsou Hitoshi, I can respect that. If you have a weapon, you should know how to use it properly. Care shouldn't go overlooked, either.

[ A surprisingly diligent and serious man despite looking like a jockass himbo... and he's perfectly serious when he says it, nodding his head for emphasis. ]

I'm happy to help whenever it comes to knives. [ yeah.... it's obvious from the deepening rasp coloring his tone that he's still happy; if he had a tail, it would be tagging. ] Now, I'd say I've disturbed enough of your night.

[ Sure, crawling into someone's bed without an invitation may be something he would do, but not with someone he doesn't know at all. He hadn't even been drinking last night, not having a particular taste for the piss beer that Guanshan favors over quality drinks, like a fine sake or a nice wine. Ugh. Poor guy, he already knows that Mgs is going to make him try that garbage swill if he hasn't already.

Flashing another smile, Rokurou turns on his heel to head out and back to the bed he actually belongs in— ]

Good night.

[formant]

( shinsou laughs under his breath, and he seems to have the reflex to suppress it; his shoulders round and his head falls into his hand so he can cover his mouth. it lasts only for a moment, and then he straightens up and regards rokurou with a smile that's only somewhat crooked. ) Means a lot, coming from someone so well-learned in the subject.

( the subject... of mocking guanshan when he's asleep less than fifteen or twenty feet away, give or take a few walls.

he runs a hand through his hair once rokurou's has vacated it (as if there was anything to fix — it's not like there's any rhyme or reason to the way his hair is, anyway). he's relieved that he doesn't seem too broken up about the fact that he's not really willing to go into the fine details of smithing and the applications of various bladed weapons (not on personal impetus, at least). though if his baseline is guanshan, a professional interest is certainly better than the stop-dead dearth of any interest at all.

for shinsou, it's about responsibility. he wouldn't be able to accept accidentally hurting someone (or himself, for that matter) with a weapon he carried but had never bothered to get proficient with. but he's not the type to run from that sort of thing — if anything, he would pursue it with a dogged tenacity that verged on self-destructive. there's a reason he tended to be a walking billboard of minor injuries; his hands often a collage of multiple bandages covering the cuts and abrasions he got from training with the capture cloth. he knew expertise (and callouses) would come with time; for now, shinsou put in the time and the work. )

Well, Rokurou Rangetsu - I'll be sure to ask when I need it, then. ( though, without his own capture cloth, he's probably back to the drawing board for now. he might cross-reference his teacher's recommendations before reaching back out, as well...

he nods, reminded of the early hour by a curtain of exhaustion that shifts and then falls over him. )

'Night.

( said before the door swings shut and then clicks closed. shinsou pauses a moment, then topples back over into bed. he extinguishes the lamp on the bedside table, and he tries to salvage whatever sleep he can from the rest of the early morning. )