![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[Solomon's making himself scarce immediately after the trial, but within about twenty minutes can be seen leaving the Greenhouse to casually start his way up the stairs in the direction of the Rose Gardens.
Surely no one will see him. Surely this will be a normal walk.]
Surely no one will see him. Surely this will be a normal walk.]
[How about you casually eat some shit instead, Solomon?
Right's right: Nishi is in the right place at the right time for the first time in his life and he's not wasting an opportunity like this. He lunges from the shadows and lands on top of Solomon, sending them skidding back several feet on the grass...
......
...And, just like that, victory is his. That's it. That's all. He just wanted to give him a grass stain he won't soon forget.]
Hahaha! Scrub all you like, Solomonβ some stains never wash away! Some stay until the grave!
Right's right: Nishi is in the right place at the right time for the first time in his life and he's not wasting an opportunity like this. He lunges from the shadows and lands on top of Solomon, sending them skidding back several feet on the grass...
......
...And, just like that, victory is his. That's it. That's all. He just wanted to give him a grass stain he won't soon forget.]
Hahaha! Scrub all you like, Solomonβ some stains never wash away! Some stay until the grave!
[?!
It's not something Solomon's expecting, so when he has the full weight of someone else on top of him he yelps and hits the ground like a brick.]
Wh-- Nishi? [ow, fuck... He tries to push himself up, but if Nishi's still on top of him that's not happening and he just kind of crumples back down, pinned.]
Nishi, please, now isn't the time for this. Get off of me.
It's not something Solomon's expecting, so when he has the full weight of someone else on top of him he yelps and hits the ground like a brick.]
Wh-- Nishi? [ow, fuck... He tries to push himself up, but if Nishi's still on top of him that's not happening and he just kind of crumples back down, pinned.]
Nishi, please, now isn't the time for this. Get off of me.
Get down? No... I don't think I will.
[After all, he can't leave this man until he's paid him a favor. Please wait warmly, Solomon. Nishi straddles him, pinning the man in place with muscular thighs.]
Who knew you were such a charmer? I'm not the type who likes to share, so forgive me if I go a little hard on you.
[...]
[After all, he can't leave this man until he's paid him a favor. Please wait warmly, Solomon. Nishi straddles him, pinning the man in place with muscular thighs.]
Who knew you were such a charmer? I'm not the type who likes to share, so forgive me if I go a little hard on you.
[...]
Edited 2025-08-24 03:31 (UTC)
[Hrgh... Oh, what a horrible position he's in. He squirms underneath Nishi, trying to get a little leverage with his legs.]
If you'd be clear about what exactly you're upset about, then maybe we could talk about this -- ghh -- [God why is he such a wimp without his magic let him gooooooooooOOOOO]
If you'd be clear about what exactly you're upset about, then maybe we could talk about this -- ghh -- [God why is he such a wimp without his magic let him gooooooooooOOOOO]
[Oho? Did Solomon just whine? Good lord... Nishi chuckles, content to drag out the punchline by taking his time slowly working off his gloves finger by finger.]
You really are a pitiful excuse for a man, Solomon.
[Just what do they see in you?]
But don't worry. I've turned over a new leafβ no grudges, no festering wounds. I prefer to settle things right here, in the moment. That way, we can both move on.
[The first punch snaps out with no prelude, a brutal sucker punch to the left templeβ so fast it hardly seems possible he telegraphed it at all.]
You really are a pitiful excuse for a man, Solomon.
[Just what do they see in you?]
But don't worry. I've turned over a new leafβ no grudges, no festering wounds. I prefer to settle things right here, in the moment. That way, we can both move on.
[The first punch snaps out with no prelude, a brutal sucker punch to the left templeβ so fast it hardly seems possible he telegraphed it at all.]
[Even with all the knowledge he has, he's still no physical fighter, and completely at a loss without his magic.
The hit connects with a crack and a choked back yell, Solomon's head whipping to the side at the follow-through. The pain is sharp, and the ringing in his ears immediate and harsh. His hands jerk from where they sit pinned at his side, a futile effort to get cover over his face.]
Wh-what -- Nishi, speak clearly, what on earth are you talking about????
The hit connects with a crack and a choked back yell, Solomon's head whipping to the side at the follow-through. The pain is sharp, and the ringing in his ears immediate and harsh. His hands jerk from where they sit pinned at his side, a futile effort to get cover over his face.]
Wh-what -- Nishi, speak clearly, what on earth are you talking about????
Don't play dumb.
[The anger that seizes him is glacial, burning not hot but hollow, leaving no room for reason. His fist lashes out again, striking across Solomon's jaw, splitting his lip with a sharp crack.]
I shouldn't have to tell you. You should already understand!
[The anger that seizes him is glacial, burning not hot but hollow, leaving no room for reason. His fist lashes out again, striking across Solomon's jaw, splitting his lip with a sharp crack.]
I shouldn't have to tell you. You should already understand!
[Ah, he thinks, as heat blossoms against his mouth and blood tastes against his tongue. Will this just be how it is for me, now? Oblivious to what angers others? Was Barbatos right, or--
No, no, he has to be missing something here. There is no rationality in this, and Solomon struggles to pull together what had riled up Nishi so horribly in the trial, trying to force assumptions into as close of a picture as possible.]
And you called me the boy?
You won't get anything from me like that. Did I embarrass you?
No, no, he has to be missing something here. There is no rationality in this, and Solomon struggles to pull together what had riled up Nishi so horribly in the trial, trying to force assumptions into as close of a picture as possible.]
And you called me the boy?
You won't get anything from me like that. Did I embarrass you?
Embarrass me?
[You've done much more than that, though if you asked Nishi to list Solomon's supposed wrongdoings, you'd find it's all rather... personal. Messy. None of it is really Solomon's fault, but when it comes to pride, logic hardly factors in.
Maybe he just hates that smug face of his, slinging another punch into it, bloodying his nose in the process. Two more. That's all Nishi will allow himself this time, and then he'll consider Solomon's debt paid. Water under the bridge. Nothing personal.]
I don't want anything from you. I need you to take your lumps like a good boy and never cross me again. Understood?
[You've done much more than that, though if you asked Nishi to list Solomon's supposed wrongdoings, you'd find it's all rather... personal. Messy. None of it is really Solomon's fault, but when it comes to pride, logic hardly factors in.
Maybe he just hates that smug face of his, slinging another punch into it, bloodying his nose in the process. Two more. That's all Nishi will allow himself this time, and then he'll consider Solomon's debt paid. Water under the bridge. Nothing personal.]
I don't want anything from you. I need you to take your lumps like a good boy and never cross me again. Understood?
[The pain rattles into his teeth and up into his eyesockets, and he has to take a second to cough at the vibrant taste of blood now draining into his throat and down his mouth, spitting red out onto the ground.]
Cross you on what, exactly? [His voice is growing exasperated.]
No, I don't understand, Nishi. And you aren't listening, either.
You're setting me up to walk right into your fist again if you're not going to tell me what has you so angry.
Cross you on what, exactly? [His voice is growing exasperated.]
No, I don't understand, Nishi. And you aren't listening, either.
You're setting me up to walk right into your fist again if you're not going to tell me what has you so angry.
Solomon... A name that denotes wisdom. The mark of an intelligent man.
[But smart men don't cross CΜ΄ΝΝΜΜΝΜhΜ΅ΝΝΜΉaΜΆΝΝΜΝΜΜrΜΈΜΝΝΝ. They would not dare.
Another fist banks into Solomon's chin, clenching his teeth for him. Nishi's knuckles smart, but he pays them no mind. All that matters is that Solomon's pain is worse.]
If you really haven't figured it out, then don't worry about it. Forget it. I only owe you one more, and then we can forget this ever happened. Tell me, Solomon: how do you like your comeuppance?
[Nishi is a reasonable man. If Solomon would prefer a hit below the belt, Nishi will gladly oblige.]
[But smart men don't cross CΜ΄ΝΝΜΜΝΜhΜ΅ΝΝΜΉaΜΆΝΝΜΝΜΜrΜΈΜΝΝΝ. They would not dare.
Another fist banks into Solomon's chin, clenching his teeth for him. Nishi's knuckles smart, but he pays them no mind. All that matters is that Solomon's pain is worse.]
If you really haven't figured it out, then don't worry about it. Forget it. I only owe you one more, and then we can forget this ever happened. Tell me, Solomon: how do you like your comeuppance?
[Nishi is a reasonable man. If Solomon would prefer a hit below the belt, Nishi will gladly oblige.]
[His mind works in rapidfire even as the crack of his teeth against each other shoot sparks up into his skull. With such insistence in any other context, Solomon would have to wonder if this man knew of his history, of those stupid little nicknames. But now is past the time of idle chatter.]
...You're... you're making a mistake, Danya. You really are.
[He wheezes for breath, trying not to take in the blood that slowly fills the back of his mouth.]
If you're that determined to keep me in the dark... then I'd say you can take... t-take that comeuppance and choke on it.
I will not confess to a sin I have not done.
...You're... you're making a mistake, Danya. You really are.
[He wheezes for breath, trying not to take in the blood that slowly fills the back of his mouth.]
If you're that determined to keep me in the dark... then I'd say you can take... t-take that comeuppance and choke on it.
I will not confess to a sin I have not done.
Edited 2025-08-25 07:05 (UTC)
[A mistake. He knows it even before Solomon says it, familiar with the way it feels to be committing wrongs against someone who simply does not deserve it. Wrong man, wrong accusation. But Nishi's already knee-deep in it, and when he's sunk this low, he knows there's no clawing his way back out.
He hates himself for it. Hates how familiar it feels, to be burning down the wrong bridge all over again, but hate isn't enough to stop him.]
Take this personally. Hate me. Condemn me.
[The words are low, harsh, and then Nishi's hand is at Solomon's throat. He squeezes, not enough to kill, but more than enough to make Solomon's protests dissolve into choked wheezes. It's mercifully short, just long enough for Solomon's eyes to flutter and grow dull, for consciousness to leave him.
Nishi lets go, leaving Solomon crumpled on the grass like a discarded doll. For a long moment, Nishi only stands there, chest heaving, his own hands trembling as though they belonged to someone else. The mask doesn't hide the sweat, the shallow rasp of his breath, or the fact that he looks visibly unwell.]
One more mistake, among many. I wonder how many I've made now.
[He staggers away, legs unsteady, leaving Solomon sprawled in the grass behind him. There's no triumph here, only the taste of bile, and the certainty that what he's done will follow him, like everything else, for the rest of his life.]
He hates himself for it. Hates how familiar it feels, to be burning down the wrong bridge all over again, but hate isn't enough to stop him.]
Take this personally. Hate me. Condemn me.
[The words are low, harsh, and then Nishi's hand is at Solomon's throat. He squeezes, not enough to kill, but more than enough to make Solomon's protests dissolve into choked wheezes. It's mercifully short, just long enough for Solomon's eyes to flutter and grow dull, for consciousness to leave him.
Nishi lets go, leaving Solomon crumpled on the grass like a discarded doll. For a long moment, Nishi only stands there, chest heaving, his own hands trembling as though they belonged to someone else. The mask doesn't hide the sweat, the shallow rasp of his breath, or the fact that he looks visibly unwell.]
One more mistake, among many. I wonder how many I've made now.
[He staggers away, legs unsteady, leaving Solomon sprawled in the grass behind him. There's no triumph here, only the taste of bile, and the certainty that what he's done will follow him, like everything else, for the rest of his life.]
[Hate me. Condemn me.
It echoes like a cry for help given far too late. The struggle stays brief. A jerking of his arms, a redness to his face, brassy eyes losing focus and slipping into dark as his body goes limp.
When he finally comes to, Nishi is long gone. His face and neck and throat scream from injury and the flow of blood, his limbs ache from the pin of his body.
But he still pushes himself up, coughing out vibrant red like so many of the flowers of the gardens, and drags himself away.
Perhaps this changed things. More than he'd expected. But he still has a job to do.]
It echoes like a cry for help given far too late. The struggle stays brief. A jerking of his arms, a redness to his face, brassy eyes losing focus and slipping into dark as his body goes limp.
When he finally comes to, Nishi is long gone. His face and neck and throat scream from injury and the flow of blood, his limbs ache from the pin of his body.
But he still pushes himself up, coughing out vibrant red like so many of the flowers of the gardens, and drags himself away.
Perhaps this changed things. More than he'd expected. But he still has a job to do.]
[Char is β at least by outward appearances β fine. Immaculate, even. A turtleneck beneath a blazer, pressed black slacks, shoes polished to a shineβ the picture of a composed professor. He carries himself the same way he always does, though lately he hasn't felt quite so generous with his lessons.
Perhaps yesterday's gossip still lingers in the back of his mind, needling him. Perhaps he's already made peace with it. Either guess would be valid with how little he outwardly gives away. He slips into the infirmary cleanly, intent on settling in for the evening, only to find he isn't alone.
He halts, staring Solomon down in silence for a few long seconds. Then, unhurried, he shuts the door behind him and saunters further inside, claiming the space as his own.]
Good evening, Solomon. What brings you here at this hour?
[Not overly warm, not cold. Simply fine. And perhaps, by the moment, even better.]
Perhaps yesterday's gossip still lingers in the back of his mind, needling him. Perhaps he's already made peace with it. Either guess would be valid with how little he outwardly gives away. He slips into the infirmary cleanly, intent on settling in for the evening, only to find he isn't alone.
He halts, staring Solomon down in silence for a few long seconds. Then, unhurried, he shuts the door behind him and saunters further inside, claiming the space as his own.]
Good evening, Solomon. What brings you here at this hour?
[Not overly warm, not cold. Simply fine. And perhaps, by the moment, even better.]
[It's incredibly warm in here. Solomon is not sure why he didn't think a little harder about this fact.
But he's seated on the floor about halfway the length back from the door, his normal pinstripe suit jacket tossed to the side and the sleeves of his own black turtleneck rolled up, exposing the seals underneath as he distractedly stares down at his phone screen. Given the dazed and slow reaction time he has to the announcement of his name across the room, he is not having a good time with the temperature.
Still, he's straightening up with a very cautious smile at seeing he has company. Nishi... goodness, it had been almost a week since Solomon had even seen the man for more than a few moments at a time, like some sort of shadow flitting around the school.]
Ah, Danya. You're looking calmer than the last time we spoke.
[Another glance at his phone. Ah, there it goes. The cell snaps shut, even as pushes up to his feet and reaches into his pocket for a small jar of something that glints gold under the infirmary lights.]
Step away from the door, please.
But he's seated on the floor about halfway the length back from the door, his normal pinstripe suit jacket tossed to the side and the sleeves of his own black turtleneck rolled up, exposing the seals underneath as he distractedly stares down at his phone screen. Given the dazed and slow reaction time he has to the announcement of his name across the room, he is not having a good time with the temperature.
Still, he's straightening up with a very cautious smile at seeing he has company. Nishi... goodness, it had been almost a week since Solomon had even seen the man for more than a few moments at a time, like some sort of shadow flitting around the school.]
Ah, Danya. You're looking calmer than the last time we spoke.
[Another glance at his phone. Ah, there it goes. The cell snaps shut, even as pushes up to his feet and reaches into his pocket for a small jar of something that glints gold under the infirmary lights.]
Step away from the door, please.
Edited 2025-08-28 23:11 (UTC)
[Char nearly catches himself smiling. Looking calmer... right. He'd given Solomon too much credit for his wisdom. Correcting him would serve no purpose, so he doesn't. He simply steps away from the door as instructed.
The heat of the room doesn't trouble himβ he's endured far worse. It won't make for a comfortable night's sleep, but he didnβt come here seeking comfort anyway.]
Is this far enough from the door?
[He's given it a wide berth, strolling unhurriedly to the other side of the room. He doesn't trust Solomonβ never has, so it's best to leave nothing to chance.]
The heat of the room doesn't trouble himβ he's endured far worse. It won't make for a comfortable night's sleep, but he didnβt come here seeking comfort anyway.]
Is this far enough from the door?
[He's given it a wide berth, strolling unhurriedly to the other side of the room. He doesn't trust Solomonβ never has, so it's best to leave nothing to chance.]
Yes. If this is anything like the previous week, the doors should now be locked.
[He strolls right up the doors to test that fact - yep, not budging, surprise!!!!!!! With a twist of the cap, Solomon opens the container with him - a glitter jar, more than likely from the art room, that's laid out carefully at the opening swing of the doors and going out to the doorframe as much as he's able.]
Leave that undisturbed, would you? [Said as he attempts to brush stray glitter off his pantlegs and fingertips.] I figured it would be worth a shot.
[He strolls right up the doors to test that fact - yep, not budging, surprise!!!!!!! With a twist of the cap, Solomon opens the container with him - a glitter jar, more than likely from the art room, that's laid out carefully at the opening swing of the doors and going out to the doorframe as much as he's able.]
Leave that undisturbed, would you? [Said as he attempts to brush stray glitter off his pantlegs and fingertips.] I figured it would be worth a shot.
...Heh.
[Glitter? Really? Well, that's one way to identify a culprit, should they be foolish enough to step into the infirmary. Char can't fault Solomon's logic, but he can certainly laugh at him.
He doesn't sit just yet, leaned against the wall opposite the door, working his blazer loose one button at a time. The garment is folded with meticulous care and set aside. His sleeves roll to the elbow, though the helmet and mask remain firmly in place.]
Better than flailing in the dark against an unseen assailant. That said, after last week... neither of us has the wherewithal to mount much of a defense if trouble comes knocking.
[Glitter? Really? Well, that's one way to identify a culprit, should they be foolish enough to step into the infirmary. Char can't fault Solomon's logic, but he can certainly laugh at him.
He doesn't sit just yet, leaned against the wall opposite the door, working his blazer loose one button at a time. The garment is folded with meticulous care and set aside. His sleeves roll to the elbow, though the helmet and mask remain firmly in place.]
Better than flailing in the dark against an unseen assailant. That said, after last week... neither of us has the wherewithal to mount much of a defense if trouble comes knocking.
[...]
And you, Solomon? Don't tell me you'll need defending.
[Does he expect that Char would expend that mind of energy for him, if push came to shove?]
And you, Solomon? Don't tell me you'll need defending.
[Does he expect that Char would expend that mind of energy for him, if push came to shove?]
[Now he laughs in earnest, the vulgar peals of his mean streak echoing off the infirmary walls.]
I never said I'd offer you my protection. It's every man for themselves here, isn't it? Besides, I can't imagine you crawling on hands and knees to me begging for protection after what happened last time.
I never said I'd offer you my protection. It's every man for themselves here, isn't it? Besides, I can't imagine you crawling on hands and knees to me begging for protection after what happened last time.
Page 1 of 5