kingdomdressing | (no subject)

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sora

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[Sora's wandered into a kitchen and is currently rooting around in the upper cabinets to see just what is in them. He's avoiding anything that looks like it has a visible cord on the off-chance it comes to life to try to murder him, instead standing on a chair to investigate what else there may be. It would appear he's just discovered a bag of refined sugar.]

[ooc: event post currently locked to a foxy booty, backdated to friday.]

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[Even, to be honest, kind of missed having his own kitchen. All this having to venture from his ~~lair~~ room for food regularly rather than being free to get food whenever he felt like without having to go to the trouble of ~~getting dressed~~hiding his identity before hand.

For lack of things to do while he figures out what he actually plans to eat, Even's settled for watching Sora with dubiously curious amusement.]

[Why yes, he did just stick his fingers right into it. He also made a noise of shock at the taste and went to do it again before an awareness of someone else being in the room caught up with him. The chair wobbles as he turns, making him hold the sugar for dear life. Almost as an afterthought, he grabs the cabinet too.]

I wasn't doing anything bad!

[Even is in no position to police other's eating habits. Though he makes a sort of snicker-ish noise through his nose at the reaction.]

It's not my bag of sugar. I've got no reason to stop you even if you were.

I've never had sugar like this before. Is it common here?

[He's still on the chair, but is carefully replacing the sugar back where he found it. In his world, something like this would be fit for a king's dessert and never for a lowly peasant orphan.]

[~~As someone who could spend more than some people make in a year on a single night of alcohol, Even's concept of the value of anything is probably more than a little off.~~]

Yes, people tend not to like the look of the raw kind as much.

[He's just starting to climb down when he stumbles the rest of the way to the floor with a startled yelp. He hops on one foot toward Even, before grasping the table near him for support as he hurriedly yanks up the leg of his pants with one hand. There on his calf is a reddened tattoo that has the unmistakable shape of a musical note.]

Ow! What is it, how do I get it off?

[Even shuffles a bit closer and bends down to look, leaning heavily on his cane.]

Well it looks like a tattoo.
You could cut it off, burn it off...

Or, since I imagine you'd not have gotten such done voluntarily or forgotten that many needles, wait until whatever put it there gets rid of it.

[He looks horrified at both suggestions, plunking down right there on the floor to cover the tattoo with his hand as if Even were going to demonstrate.]

Of course I didn't do it on purpose! It only now happened!

That tends to be the case for a lot of things here, and there tends not to be much you can do about them.

[Even stands up properly again because bending like this is terrible for his back.]

Does it still hurt?

A little bit... and when I touch it...

[It's tender in general, so he's trying not to actually poke it too much.]

[Even stops to put his left foot on one of the chairs and roll up the cuff of his trousers. With his pain threshold, his sudden tattoo resisted more like a nasty itch than anything especially painful, so he'd dismissed it.]

Hmm, looks like I have one too.

...There's a knife tucked in my right shoe, could you get it out for me?

[He goes to do so, though it isn't until he straightens with it that realization kicks in and he shoves the knife behind his back, scooting away.]

No! I don't want you to cut it off!

I'm not cutting you, I'm cutting me.

[He keeps a hand held out expectantly, tapping his fingers together.]

But I don't want you to!

[Nope, he's just as freaked out over the thought of Even doing that deliberately to himself as he would be if Even planned to do it to him.]

I wasn't going to cut it off, I was only going to find out if it was possible to.
[The difference between these things is minimal and doesn't mean much of anything to people who aren't Even.]

What if it is, would you do it? Can't we just say it isn't?

[He is not mentally capable of seeing someone deliberately cut into themselves, regardless of the reason.]

I've had worse excuses.

Please, I don't want you to hurt yourself. Even just to see.

[He's as far from Even as he can get, backed up against the counter, and is nearly in tears at the realization that Even's cut himself for other reasons before. He doesn't understand, and doesn't want to.]

If you're not going to pass me my knife, put it back where you got it.

[By which he means: so he can use it later, during some alone time. ]

[Sora makes a surprised sound, but he's jerkily moving back toward Even. Putting it back where he got it means giving it back to Even, of course. It looks as though he's moving through quicksand at first, before he stumbles to fall on his knees beside the older man. His hands are shaking as he puts it back, and as soon as he's done he scrambles away again.]

How did you do that? Are you a w-witch? A devil?

What?
[/oblivious]

You made me move!

[Not an experience he enjoyed.]

I did not.

[Because obviously Sora would do these things of his own free will.]

Did too! When you told me to put it back! I couldn't stop!

Then let's test that theory.

[Even rolls the cuff of his trousers back down, and takes a seat on the chair he previously had his foot on.]

Come here and remove my hat.