middaeg | don't fear the reaper

[ His boss, the mysterious and generically named "bartender," had been glowering about the black markets and their sale of illicit blood for a few weeks now. Although she is a witch herself, she's highly defensive of vampires; Makoto and his co-workers have theorized that she's got at least one bond with one, and that it might be more than that.

Not that anyone minds, of course. She's given Makoto a job and that means an income and something to do. Plus, it comes with a discount on the standard menu. Except for the spike in cravings on the full moon itself, Makoto shouldn't have any trouble drinking blood every day without having to hurt anyone.

Today, the bartender's big blood drive is beginning. For the past few days, Makoto had been handing out fliers on the street, and while he's no happier about having to be awake so early in the day, he's happy that he gets to stay out of the sun now that the drive is starting.

The bar opens its doors at noon to invite donors inside. Makoto idles near the entrance with his co-workers, waiting for someone to come in so he can escort them off to give the donation of their liking.

He's about to invite a participant to follow him when the door opens again behind them and he recognizes a familiar face. That's Akira, the guy he met on the night of his first full moon here - what a great coincidence and opportunity. He lets someone else take the previous person and walks around them to greet the Puca at the door. ]

Hey. Akira, was it?

[ It looks like the word got out around the city that Desmodus Mori is offering a decent sum of coin to blood donors, as day two of the blood drive is much busier than the first. It's mid-afternoon and Makoto has already collected a dozen donations, with time to spare to thank them for their generosity and answer questions about the bar.

He's in a good mood, energetic and friendly despite his slow transformation into something undead. As he walks to the entrance to welcome the next donor, he isn't thinking about a particular witch that he met on a particular day last month while pretending to be something that is not a vampire. ]

Please, come in. [ Smiling, he beckons the woman to leave the darkness of the basement stairwell and step into the bar proper. ] Are you here to make a donation?

[ With how the wave of dissent has turned against fellow-mirrorbound and monsters, specifically, Allura feels that she should do what she can to aid them. She doesn't have much experience with "vampires', but a blood donation is a blood donation, isn't it? She can certainly spare some. And she won't mind the bit of pocket change to spend on more supplies.

So she makes her way to "Desmodus Mori" with optimism in her heart and on her face. Of course, it does feel a little secretive heading downstairs as it were, but at least she's greeted by what sounds to be a friendly face. (It's a little dark down there.) Allura offers a smile in return, following his lead into the better lighting of the bar.

Her eyes are immediately drawn to the aesthetics of the place, having been curious what this sort of bar would even look like. So much of Aefenglom has been new experiences. ]

Yes, I am, if you are still accepting?

[ A month away means he missed a lot here in the city, including the black market and any hubbub surrounding it, but it's easy enough to get caught up upon his return and even easier to make the decision to show up to the blood drive hosted by the bar. Even if he didn't know a couple of vampires personally, he'd still find it to be a cause worthy of a donation.

He just isn't expecting to see one of those vampires among the crowd. ]

Oh, Makoto. Hey.

[ With a nod, he notes the way Makoto approached—not to mention the way the past month and some hasn't been kind to him. He looks even more pale and sickly than he did on that first full moon. ]

Do you work here?

[ Her interest in the bar's wooden walls and rafters and ancient carvings of bats and bat-like creatures gives Makoto a moment to look at her face, and - then he realizes he knows her. Where does he know her from? It's right on the edge of his mind. He knows he hasn't seen her in the bar before, at least. Where was it? ]

Yeah, we still are. You've got a couple of options. [ Makoto hands her a flier explaining the terms, all while trying not to stare at her too hard. She's pretty; he'd normally remember someone this attractive. ] You can make a donation of blood, to be served in the bar at a later date. Or, you can volunteer to have a vampire feed from you directly. Either donation is appreciated, but the second one is worth three times as much payment.

You guessed it.

[ Makoto nods back to him with a subdued smile. He's much different from the uneasy and tense person he was that night at the flower shop. Tossing his head slightly to get his bangs out of his face - only for them to flop back to where they were - he pulls a flier from the stack in his hand and holds it out to him. ]

Are you here for a donation? I'll help you with it if you like.

[ The flier is identical to the ones he'd been handing out earlier in the week. It describes two donation options: from the arm and into a bag, like the average person would envision, and one to a vampire directly. The fee and other details are written below it. ]

If you're wandering in out of curiosity, that's okay, too. We've got a regular menu.

This is, for the most part, familiar. He doesn't feel much different than he did in the days leading up to graduation day, when his condition was worsening to the point that he had to lean against the wall when climbing the school's stairs to meet Aigis. Makoto doesn't feel afraid - not that he would, even if he hadn't already died once before, not really. Death had been his literal soulmate for ten years, after all, and he'd made his peace with him prior to his previous death. No, neither his physical health nor his mental state are bothering him all that much. And he's going to come back as a vampire, right? So, he isn't going to die. Not really.

What's new is the fact that he isn't dying alone this time. In hindsight, he's grateful that he told Fuuka about it weeks ago, before he had deteriorated so much. She found him after he collapsed, and helped him get into bed, and has been dutifully checking up on him since then. Her concern over him is sort of strange and new, but not in a bad way.

Shinjiro, though... Makoto had only seen him in passing a few times since he collapsed yesterday. As he lays in bed, waiting for the afternoon to pass and for death to come, he stares at the ceiling and wonders what he thinks about what's happening to him. Probably avoiding the situation, as could be expected, but they both had weird relationships with death. The more he thinks about it, the more Makoto wants to talk to him about it.

He sends Shinjiro a message over the pocketwatches, even though he knows he's somewhere in the house, whether in his room or downstairs. Hey, are you busy? it reads, albeit in Makoto's usual shorthand textspeak. Could you come here for a while? I feel like talking.

[ So this is what he's really like, much more even-keeled, like in their text conversation. He did find a little thrill in the aggression, but this suits Makoto better.

Taking the flier, he doesn't shift his attention to it just yet, opting to answer the question first. ]

Donation. Though something to drink after might not hurt.

[ Now he skims over the details, noting the significantly larger amount for a direct donation. More spending money never hurts, and they wouldn't offer it if it weren't safe, considering this is to improve their reputation. ]

I can give a direct donation if there's anyone waiting to accept one.

Makoto's right. He'd been avoiding it.

He knows that Makoto will temporary die soon. He knows that when it's over, he'll be alive again as a vampire within the day. It can barely be called a real death, so what was the point in getting worked up over it? In making it dramatic or emotional or having to confront the idea that he has no idea how to feel about a dying man who already died once, who would return for a second time later, and the fact that he's entirely too close to the concept of death itself.

(But it was different for them, wasn't it? For Makoto, death was the loss of his future, of his time with his friends. It was something sad, to be mourned, even if it was to protect those he cared about.)

But when the text comes through, he can't quite avoid it any longer. He has no excuses that would hold up, especially to such an earnest request.

sure.

It's a quick enough reply- because he's kind of known this was coming, that he wouldn't be able to ditch Makoto's death to Fuuka completely. And so he eventually ambles up to Makoto's bedroom, knocking lightly, before letting himself in without waiting for a response.

It's-- far different than the last time he was in here, a month prior. With the electric tension between them at the height of the full moon, the bloodletting and feeding and-- everything else. In comparison it feels completely muted now. Muffled and heavy and every inch of him itches to get out and get outside, despite the pouring rain.

"...Hey." It's a simple greeting- and thankfully he doesn't hesitate at the door. Just lets the door close behind himself, and walks over to sit on the edge of the bed. He won't ask how Makoto's doing: he knows the answer won't be anything good, and he's never been that good at being reassuring. So instead he just shrugs.

"This it, then?"

[ Direct donations have been a popular option so far, to Makoto's surprise. They've been popular among bar patrons, too. Blood straight from the veins has a certain je ne sais quoi that blood in a cup doesn't have, even when it's fresh.

Makoto hums thoughtfully and turns his head, scanning the bar. It's mostly empty right now. ]

You might be here a little too early for one of those. There might not be a vampire patron here right now who wants it.

[ It's an expensive menu item, even in spite of how popular it is. Makoto's eyes shift to his boss, busy with other donors. And... he has a thought.

When he looks back to Akira, his expression is calm and casual, almost deadpan. ]

Guess I could take it. If you're cool with that.

[ Well, that makes sense. He did turn up kind of early in the drive, when activity in the bar probably picks up later in the night. Akira is about to offer to simply give a regular donation when Makoto comes out with a different suggestion. His eyebrows quirk slightly but otherwise his expression remains passive. ]

Yeah, sure.

[ He doesn't really have to think about it. There might be some people out there who would get more hung up on having their blood sucked by an acquaintance versus a stranger, but Akira isn't one of them.

Besides, he likes Makoto. They may not know each other well, but their similar powers offer a sense of connection and camaraderie not unlike the one he felt with Souji. ]

[ Excellent, she had worried that she might have dillydallied a little too much. She turns to face him and accept the flier, quickly skimming over the different options. ]

Well...

[ Oh, she had just intended on the simple donation, but...three times as much payment? She'd be lying if she said she couldn't use the money. Allura worries her lip for a moment as she considers. ]

Is it particularly painful...?

[ Makoto was expecting him to accept that quickly, but he doesn't consider the question fully answered. Has Akira ever been bitten by a vampire before? Does he know precisely what he's agreed to?

Plus... this will be the first time Makoto feeds directly from someone when it isn't a full moon. The past two moons, and what happened on each of them, weigh on his mind. He can probably control himself better today, but... well, who knows? ]

Mmn. [ He shuts his eyes contemplatively as he removes his waiter's apron and sets down the pile of fliers. ] Go ask the bartender for the key to the back room. Once you go inside, I'll meet you there. [ ... ] It's dark, so watch your step. Take a seat on one of the cushions. And don't disturb anyone else who's back there right now.

[ Whatever concerns there are in Akira's mind (and there are, stepping into such an unknown, but the idea of helping Makoto easily tips them to the back of his priorities) are hidden under a glint of humor at the detailed instructions. It really sounds like they're about to make some kind of illicit deal. ]

No password to give the bartender? [ Joking helps to temper down whatever nerves he's feeling, but Akira doesn't linger beyond that. ] I'll see you in a few, then.

[ Just as Makoto said, the bartender produces a key when asked, pointing him towards the back. He's careful upon entry, cautious footsteps carrying him farther into the room—more out of concern of stepping on someone than tripping, really. It takes a long moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but when they do, Akira finds a cushion to settle down onto and wait. ]

Well, there's some variation among vampires when it comes to that.

[ Argh, where does he know her from? It's like he's on the verge of remembering. Makoto looks down her body to her feet, sizing her up and taking in whatever details he could. When he looks back up at her and focuses on that worried look on her face -- ]

Oh. Oh, I remember you. [ he squints at her, thinking. ] I met you a few weeks ago, didn't I? I think I was out shopping...?

[ Makoto smirks, somewhat humorlessly, despite his appreciation for dark humor. After a nod, he watches Akira walk away, retrieve the key, and disappear into the back room.

He sighs and leans his hip against a table beside him. There's nothing to worry about. He's done this before. This isn't the night of the full moons. While he feels hungry, it isn't that all-encompassing urge that it's been in the past. Everything is going to be fine.

A minute later, the door to the back room opens and Makoto quickly slips inside. It's dark, but Makoto can smell a vampire and their meal in the corner. He can hear the heartbeat of another person, too, sitting near the wall opposite the door. That must be him.

After he sits, he speaks in a low voice. ] Your stranger in the night has arrived. [ some more dark humor for you. ] Pick a spot. For the bleeding, I mean.

[ She gives a quiet, thoughtful hum at that. She supposes that shouldn't be surprising--one can't know just one vampire to know them all, right? Granted, her knowledge is still fairly lacking. Perhaps she'll have the opportunity to learn more today. ]

That's understandable...

[ Her thought remains unfinished. Allura frowns slightly, appraising him for a short moment. ]

Ah!

[ Her brows raise instantly and her demeanor brightens in turn. ]

Yes! You helped me pick out a few vials of blood for a spell I was working on. And your advise was very sound, so thank you for that. I apologize, I should have asked for your name.

[ The presence that joins him must be Makoto—and the quiet joke confirms it. Akira puffs out a soft laugh, trying not to disturb any others that might be in the room. ]

I'm swooning.

[ In actuality, he's biting lightly, contemplatively, at his lip when presented with this choice. The neck seems to be the default, but there's a gradient of fur up the sides there, which might not be all that pleasant for Makoto? He's not sure. Akira fingertips smooth over the plain skin of his wrist. Maybe there? ]

Wrist? [ Akira shrugs a shoulder as he speaks in a similarly low tone. ] I've never done this before, so let me know if somewhere else works better.

[ Oh. That's right. That was... that was one of his embarrassed, illicit blood searches. In hindsight, what a stupid thing to do. If only he'd found Desmodus Mori earlier. He should have known that vampires had to have a harmless source of blood somewhere.

Unfortunately... this makes his current interaction potentially awkward.

Makoto forces a smile, although it's clear he's trying to suppress a cringe. ]

Uh. Right. I'm Makoto Yuuki. [ he offers his hand for a handshake. his room-temperature skin looks white. ] ...I work here.

"Hey," Makoto answers back. Despite his best efforts, his voice comes out more coarse and strained than it had been the day before. The bed slumps on one side as Shinjiro takes a seat, Makoto watching him during the silence following the greeting - trying to get an early read on what his senpai's mood is. How this conversation is going to go, what he might not want to bring up.

"Yeah, pretty sure," he says. "Otherwise, my changes aren't done yet. And I'm hoping I'm not like this for a full month after this."

A joke, or an attempt at one. He smiles sleepily.

"Thanks for humoring me. If my mp3 player still worked, I'd be using it to keep the quiet away." After closing his eyes, Makoto tips his head back against the pillow and sighs. "Quiet means I have nothing to do but think. And I overthink everything as it is."

Wrist is fine.

[ Not Makoto's favorite spot, but there are definitely worse choices. Through the near-darkness, he reaches out for Akira's left hand. His fingertips feel cold, although they aren't any colder than the room temperature around them. The touch smooths along Akira's fingers, across his palm, and to his wrist. The thump of his pulse matches the quiet thumping he can already hear. ]

This is probably going to hurt. My changes aren't done yet, so there's nothing special about my bite when it comes to that. [ ... pause. ] I might start acting weird, too. To be honest, this is the first time I'm biting someone when it isn't a full moon.

[ Hard to tell is the shiver that runs down his spine is from the lack of warmth in Makoto's fingers or the way they trail to his wrist. Akira's eyes fix on where he can vaguely make out Makoto's face in the dark. ]

It's fine if it hurts. [ It's probably better that way than if it felt good, actually. His sex drive has been a bit unpredictable and uncontrollable lately. Probably has to do with the whole rabbit thing. ] Can't be any worse than awakening my Persona.

[ Is Makoto worried about what he might do? Somehow, that serves to soothe his nerves more than anything. Makoto isn't taking this lightly, and Akira is more than capable of taking care of himself, even like this. ] And don't worry about that. It'll be fine.

[ Makoto hears a subtle uptick in Akira's pulse, a heartbeat that comes just a little too early, as he strokes his fingertips over his wrist, finding the best spot to bite. He glances up at him again, although it's mostly out of instinct, since they can barely see each other in the dark.

Is he... excited about this? The possibility is not so surprising. Some people have a thing for vampires, apparently, and Makoto has a feeling that this guy is a thrill-seeker, considering the whole Phantom Thief thing. ]

Why don't you tell me about that? [ He asks while taking Akira's wrist in both hands and bringing it up to his mouth. ] Your Persona, I mean. It hurt when you got it? Sounds different from ours.

[ One more time, he consoles himself. This is fine. It's not a full moon. He's in control.

Makoto takes a deep breath and pulls the warm wrist into his mouth, one hand gripping his forearm and one keeping Akira's hand out of the way. He presses his lips to his skin to help minimize the mess and bites down firmly. As the seconds pass, his teeth sink deeper and blood starts to fill his mouth. ]

[ Allura's own smile does falter a little at his response. She had thought it was a rather positive experience. Had she unduly put pressure on him by asking for his assistance?

Well...perhaps she can make it up to him now.

She takes his hand. ]

It's a pleasure to meet you properly--

[ His hand is--

Oh.

"I work here."

Oh. ]

--...Oh stars.

[ Of course he was looking for blood and knew what to pick. He's a vampire. ]

...I must seem an absolute fool right now.

[ #whoops ]

[ Akira gets what he's doing, and it makes him laugh once more, quiet in the space between them. ]

I feel like I'm at the dentist. [ But while teeth may be involved, they're not his, and Makoto is the one who would have a hard time answering. ]

Yours—didn't hurt? [ There's a slight catch when Makoto's fangs pierce the skin of his wrist, but Akira pushes on. ] I don't know why it did... When Arsene spoke to me, it felt like being stabbed through the skull.

[ The first prick of his teeth felt like twin needles, but the farther they sink in, finding vein, it feels more like searing hot blades. Instinct urges him to pull away, but Akira resists, keeping his arm still in Makoto's grasp beyond an initial reflexive twitch. Whatever he's feeling right now must be nothing compared to what Makoto has to go through in his transformation. ]

He manages to keep from reacting at Makoto's voice. It's harsh and it grates for so many reasons outside of how he actually sounds. Maybe just because it's so different from his typically easy tone, the way Makoto glides through everything-- and it really highlights how close to death he is.

Shinjiro feels he shouldn't be as uncomfortable about this as he is. After all, he'd seen his own death as a freedom. It had been quick and painful and violent, yes, but also something he'd been wanting for so, so long. But his own metaphorical crush on death itself isn't something that Makoto seems to share... and maybe that makes all the difference.

He lets out a half-amused huff at Makoto's dry joke. "Yeah, here's hoping this shit doesn't drag out. Maybe once it's done we can drag you out to that blood bar and you can actually enjoy yourself."

He lets his palms rest on the bed and leans back on them slightly, shoulders creeping up in his typical shitty posture. He doesn't mind reminding Makoto that this is just temporary. Undeath though it may be, he's still going to be far more alive than he is back home. And that will just have to be good enough.

"Louis was talkin' 'bout he wouldn't mind tagging along sometime to check it out, if you're up for the company of us. Can't say I'm not surious what a vampire hangout is like." At least the knowledge that Makoto will rise again makes this easier. If this were a true death, all his talk of plans would just be bullshit, and they'd both know it.

He finally turns slightly, eyebrow lifting at Makoto's final comment. "Yeah? Not a lot else to do, I guess. You need to get it out, or no?"

[ Makoto's sheepish expression neutralizes as he tries to suppress a laugh. What does she have to be embarrassed for? He's the one who'd lied to her!

He gives her hand an extra little squeeze before withdrawing it back into the long sleeves of his robe. ]

That's my line. I told you I was a witch back then... that wasn't the truth, as you can see. [ With a guilty smile, he flashes his fangs at her and shrugs his shoulders. ] I'm sorry. This isn't the best first impression.

[ That little twitch makes Makoto worry. He's trying not to hurt him, but the bite needs to be deep enough for him to feed. Otherwise they'd be sitting here for a long time, in the dark, with Makoto lapping at a trickle of blood drops.

He bows his head and focuses on the blood filling his mouth. Maybe it's because it isn't a full moon, but looking Akira in the eye while he sucks on his wrist is a little awkward. ]

No, not hurt. More like scary. [ he speaks choppily, keeping his mouth close to his skin so he can catch the blood in between sentences. ]The Evokers are scary, if [ ... ] you don't know they aren't real.

[ The sensation of Makoto talking against his wrist is strange, but Akira appreciates the attempt to keep him engaged. While it doesn't hurt any less as the seconds pass, he does become more accustomed to it. His heart still thumps quickly, the prey instinct to pull away ever present. With Akira firmly ignoring it, all it does is serve to make his blood pump faster. ]

"Evokers"?

[ He turns a curious look down towards Makoto's head, fingers flexing slightly against the sharp burn in his wrist. Nor like he can really make out any concrete features in this darkness, anyway. ]

Makoto scoffs softly at Shinjiro's comment about the bar - it's a vampire bar, so, in his opinion, it's about what one would expect. But he says nothing, nodding instead. Louis and Shinjiro at Desmodus. It sounds like fun. It's something to look forward to.

Which brings him back to the present and what's happening. With his eyes still shut, he breaths in deep and releases it slowly. He does need to get it out, but Makoto hates talking about himself. He learned early on that his sob story made people feel uncomfortable, and telling it made him uncomfortable, too, so staying numb and detached had always been the best for everyone. Or so he'd thought, before joining SEES.

"When we were talking about what happened after you died," he finally says, eyes closed, "and I told you that part about Aigis chasing down an escaped shadow... you remember, right? How that shadow was the last Arcana."

His heart feels heavy already. He takes another deep breath, soothing himself.

"I forget if I told you this part or not," - he knows he left out some part of it, for the very reason he's so reluctant to talk about it now - "but that shadow hid itself... in me, somehow. Right after the accident. It avoided Aigis by - by jumping into my mind, I guess you could say. And then, for all those years after, it was there with me. Watching my life play out."

He opens his eyes, but keeps them focused upwards on the ceiling. His eyebrows crease together ever so slightly, a small betrayal of his commitment to keeping his grief to himself.

"...before the Fall, after Ikutsuki had already tricked us, it left me somehow and turned into a person, instead. He went to our school and everything. You never got to meet him, but he came with our class on the school trip and everything."

Shinjiro might sense where this is going, depending on how much he remembered from Makoto's explanation a few months ago. Makoto silently hopes he does, even though he knows he has to finish the thought to get it out.

[ Ah. Maybe he and his friends didn't use Evokers, somehow. They don't have the Dark Hour either, so really, anything is possible as far as Makoto knows.

And Akira is lucky today. Makoto hasn't shrugged off the habit of keeping his Evoker with him all the time, despite it being as useful as a paperweight in Aefenglom.

One of his hands curls his fingers between Akira's, weaving them together in response to the slight flex, maybe to comfort him but also to keep his wrist in place. His other hand leaves Akira's forearm and reaches into his long back robe. There's the click of a buckle, and just as Akira might be getting the wrong idea about what his hand is doing under there, it emerges, holding the Evoker in the unbuckled holster. He sets it in Akira's lap and gulps blood loudly. ]

[ Makoto's fingers between his gives him something to grip onto, although he tries to keep his hold relaxed. Tensing up to makes the pain sharpen into an even more uncomfortable edge, like his body is trying to push the intruding fangs out.

The sound of the buckle and then the weight in his lap provide a suitable distraction. Akira looks down, squinting into the dark. Is that... ]

A gun?

[ With his free hand, he pulls the gun free from its holster. Like his own pistol, it's got a realistic weight to it, and his fingers falls comfortably around the grip, familiar. Makoto said it isn't real, which tracks with the Metaverse, but he also implied that he summons his Persona using this. "Evoker." That much makes sense, only he's having a hard time visualizing the specifics.

Akira turns it this way and that in his hand, inspecting it as well as he can. ]

Does your Persona... come out of it? [ Like one of those toy guns that shoots out a little flag? ]

Makoto begins to speak, and again it's like snapping back to a conversation they'd had months ago. A half-argument with a much livelier Makoto, one determined and bright-eyed and set in his belief that people deserved the truth. He does remember that, though he'd never really understood how a shadow could dwell inside someone.

Regardless, none of that is important right now so much as just patiently letting Makoto speak, letting him express himself, whatever it is that feels important to him right now. The 'hows' are lost on him, really, but then again, he'd never really felt that the specifics were that important for him to understand. And so when Makoto tells him that the Shadow somehow became a person, he'll just accept it. It makes no sense in his head, but it doesn't have to.

"That would've been... what, December? Or- no, earlier." Early October had been the penultimate battle, so the 'final' would have been the next month.

Unfortunately, he hasn't put together what Makoto likely wants him to. That this person was the Appraiser that he'd mentioned they had to fight. That this meant he's met and, potentially, befriended the being that was meant to destroy them all. So instead he just looks a bit confused, as though waiting for the rest of the story. It's all so far out of his experience, he can't even begin to guess at how it ends up slotting together.

"Alright, so.... the Shadow went to classes and shit with you all? Did you guys know what it was?"

[ Once she has her hand again, Allura quickly waves off his apology. ]

No, no, I made the assumption long before then. And, truthfully, with the way sentiment in this place sways so often, I wouldn't hold it against anyone if they preferred to go under the guise of something else.

[ She finds herself smiling as well. Foolish, yes, but there doesn't seem to be any hard feelings here. ]

--And my name is Allura, I should say, before all my manners leave me entirely.

[ After another loud gulp, Makoto sits up a gasps softly to catch his breath. The fresh, hot blood isn't as delectable and irresistible as it is on full moons, but it's still amazing. He feels awake and invigorated. The gloomy background noise in his head is gone. If Akira could see him, he'd definitely notice that color had returned to Makoto's skin, his cheeks look fuller, and his eyes look less sunken in.

The vampire quickly grabs Akira's wrist with his free hand and presses the full length of his thumb tightly against the bite wound. He could drink much more than that, but they aren't supposed to take too much from the live donors. Anemia isn't good for business.]

No, no. [ He lips his lips and smacks his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he catches his breath. ] You have to hold it up to your head and pull the trigger. The gun doesn't fire bullets, but it reacts the same way as a real gun otherwise when you fire it. It's not scary when you get used to it, but the first time, it's hard.

[ It looks identical to a gun, and it's not like any new members of SEES had any particular reason to trust what they were told about the Evokers when they're first recruited. ]

"Not at first," he says, still staring at the ceiling. "But yeah. Eventually, he remembered who he was, and he told us."

Maybe Shinjiro is expecting the next part of this story to be a battle that ensued, but no. Makoto pauses, recalling the scene. It had finally explained why Aigis didn't like him, but that was the only upside.

"He offered to wipe all of our memories so that we wouldn't know the apocalypse was going to happen. He had to make the Fall happen, because that's what he was... but he didn't want us to suffer through it." After another pause, he suddenly smiles, breathing out a laugh. "Of course, we said no. All of us did. Nobody wanted to go back to the way things were after everything they'd been through together."

Perhaps he should not say the next thing on his mind: Including Ken and Akihiko. After all, they'd had a horrible fight about whether to leave Akihiko in blissful ignorance of Shinji's death. He hopes again that, maybe, Shinji will make that connection himself, and moves on.

"So... the Fall came, and we fought him. Long story short, I died and we won."

[ Oh. Not only is she not mad, but she's brushing it off. That's not what Makoto expected. Maybe the vampire discrimination from the natives is starting to get to him. ]

I'm Makoto Yuuki. It's a pleasure to meet you. [ With all of that out of the way, Makoto can finally begin to relax. What were they talking about again? ] You said you're interested in a blood donation?

[ In that distracted moment, the sharp pain lets up to a throbbing ache. Akira glances down at the vague outline of his arm in the dark and feels Makoto's finger fit against it to stem the flow of blood from the wound. The torn flesh still feels sensitive and warm, but thankfully he's offering something else to latch onto at the same time.

Hold it to your head... and pull the trigger. And he thought the mask thing the first time was rough. ]

Wow. That's dark.

[ But would Akira shy away from it? Not if it's what he needed to do in the moment. He has no desire to die, but that didn't stop him from throwing himself into the thick of a murder plot when it was necessary.

He turns the gun in his hand again, peering at where the magazine would be. It's too dark to tell the details. ]

We just had masks...

[ "That's dark." The observation is so blunt and innocent in its obviousness that it makes Makoto laugh. Then, remembering there were other feeding couples in here, he stifles the laugh into a chuckle. ]

Yeah. It is. [ For a second, Makoto sees a glint of the gun in the dark. Akira must still be checking it out. That's fine - he needs to take care of the open wound, anyway.

Leaning over, he feels through the dark for something, still keeping the pressure on Akira's wrist with his other hand. ]

What do you mean, masks? [ There's a shuffling noise. A second later, a puts a roll of white gauze in his lap and unrolls a few inches. ] I suppose that makes sense. The shadows in Tartarus all had masks. Personas aren't much different from shadows.

don't fear the reaper

for Akira - early October

for Allura - early October

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for Shinjiro - eve of the full moons

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omfg how did i lose THIS tag in my inbox???? im so sorry

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pure skill /FINGERGUNS

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