( it's one of those pleasantly cloudy days where sylus deigns to spend the morning (and afternoon) with rafayel instead of being fast asleep deep in his stronghold within the sunless, chaotic n109 zone. a kind of love, perhaps?
that said, it's not a bad decision to make β they're visiting a temple to pay their respects before the new year comes upon them, although why a lemurian sea god will want to visit a temple is beyond him. the beautiful ponds within the equally picturesque gardens, perhaps?
sylus is indulgent, smiling when rafayel seems entirely at home in the hanfu he had chosen, and he dutifully fulfills his mission of taking photos of him here and there. practice makes perfect, you see. )
[ despite not readily putting it into spoken word, he's genuinely delighted at spending time with sylus like this. while they may have been from different walks of life, and while this place couldn't have been any different than the darkness that enshrouded the n109 zone or the deep sea that rivaled it in lawlessness— it felt natural to be out here like this. ... and maybe sylus looking good in his selected outfit of choice (matching? eye emoji) was also just a plus. ( mc voice ) he looks good, he looks good, he looks good.
perhaps, it's why he smiles when he sees sylus from a careful distance as rafayel himself edges impossible close over the side of a small, modest bridge. ] ... Aren't I always? [ he says it as if testing sylus. as if reminding him that he was still on thin ice for biting him earlier.
yet, there's something playful about his words, and his eyes remain oddly full of mirth. he leans over the railing gingerly, just enough to point to the fish. ]
( he appreciates the playfulness, the whimsical lilt of his tone when he's in a mood, and rafayel is almost always in a mood, dangerous and charming both. even the hanfu he chooses to wear on this day is another indulgence β after all, what business does an interstellar criminal have playing dress up for the spring festival?
it revolves around rafayel, embedded in glittering ripples and swaying flowers, and he laughs lightly, pressing down on that thin ice just because he can. )
[ there's a slight furrow of his brow. subtle enough where he smooths it out with a look of nonchalance. he points again, this time with a little more force, like he's pointing something out in a crowd. in reality, the pond is mostly empty except for one... very large fish.
rafayel thinks he's going to have to talk to the temple workers about this... ]
C'mon, you really don't see him? He's not exactly small, you know?
( he sees it, but he also sees the beginning of that particular wrinkle between rafayel's brows whenever he's coming close to throwing a tantrum, and that in itself is extremely endearing.
in a situation like this, one can simply capitulate, because yes, dear, the sole fish in the pond is an absolute unit. or one can do what sylus does next, eye the pond and then turn back to him: )
[ despite knowing this is sylus throwing out his bait, he can't help but to take a nip every time. with more vigor, he points more confidently, even making a little noise as he keeps pointing. though, he does end up stopping midway, almost like catching himself.
well, if they're both playing this game.
rafayel steps back from the bridge, and he does what any fishie would do in this situation. he turns his back to sylus, and crosses his arms over his chest. ]
( there is something endearing about an irritated rafayel, and when he keeps pointing, agitated, sylus' gaze is only upon his, indulgent and amused.
of course, one must never taunt lord fishie too long, for his patience runs thin so quickly. he can't help a soft, low chuckle at his antics, leaning against the pillar. )
[ there's a moment of hesitation, where he's clearly deliberating how much of a hard time he wants to give sylus. just this idea improves his mood just a little. he peeks at him from the corner of his eyes, before he reaches over and grabs onto sylus wrist. ]
Fine. I guess they do say we should help our senior citizens.
[ he's tugging him closer for a moment. he leans in close enough for his breath to touch sylus' neck, and his fingers glide across his skin from his wrist, to his palms, before he tightens his grip on his fingers. he uses it to point at the fish, curling his finger over his slightly.
before, he releases him completely. he can't always give sylus what he wants. ]
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ragebaiter3000
that said, it's not a bad decision to make β they're visiting a temple to pay their respects before the new year comes upon them, although why a lemurian sea god will want to visit a temple is beyond him. the beautiful ponds within the equally picturesque gardens, perhaps?
sylus is indulgent, smiling when rafayel seems entirely at home in the hanfu he had chosen, and he dutifully fulfills his mission of taking photos of him here and there. practice makes perfect, you see. )
You're in a good mood today.
no subject
perhaps, it's why he smiles when he sees sylus from a careful distance as rafayel himself edges impossible close over the side of a small, modest bridge. ] ... Aren't I always? [ he says it as if testing sylus. as if reminding him that he was still on thin ice for biting him earlier.
yet, there's something playful about his words, and his eyes remain oddly full of mirth. he leans over the railing gingerly, just enough to point to the fish. ]
Do you see him? He agrees.
no subject
it revolves around rafayel, embedded in glittering ripples and swaying flowers, and he laughs lightly, pressing down on that thin ice just because he can. )
Him? Him who?
no subject
rafayel thinks he's going to have to talk to the temple workers about this... ]
C'mon, you really don't see him? He's not exactly small, you know?
no subject
in a situation like this, one can simply capitulate, because yes, dear, the sole fish in the pond is an absolute unit. or one can do what sylus does next, eye the pond and then turn back to him: )
There's nothing there.
no subject
well, if they're both playing this game.
rafayel steps back from the bridge, and he does what any fishie would do in this situation. he turns his back to sylus, and crosses his arms over his chest. ]
Then... there's no one next to you, either.
no subject
of course, one must never taunt lord fishie too long, for his patience runs thin so quickly. he can't help a soft, low chuckle at his antics, leaning against the pillar. )
Show me where the fish is.
no subject
Fine. I guess they do say we should help our senior citizens.
[ he's tugging him closer for a moment. he leans in close enough for his breath to touch sylus' neck, and his fingers glide across his skin from his wrist, to his palms, before he tightens his grip on his fingers. he uses it to point at the fish, curling his finger over his slightly.
before, he releases him completely. he can't always give sylus what he wants. ]