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[arsenist]

It's Akira. Leave a message and I'll get back to you. ⏷

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text - un: akechi

[enteloki]

This is the second store I've gone to. I'm not traveling across the city to fulfill your shopping list.

Pick a flavor - soy or plain?

backdated to mid-may !!

[placation]

[ When the Death Knight tells him to get out of his sight, Maruki doesn't need to be told twice.

He'd been on his way to the train before he was captured, and all good sense tells him to continue on that way, get the hell out of District 6 as fast as possible. He isn't even far from the station. It would be the smartest move by far.

Maruki isn't thinking that rationally.

He escaped with his life, without so much as a scratch on him. He's fine.

His whole body is shaking.

It's the fight or flight adrenaline, of course it is, but it's also the simple fact that Maruki has never been in a physical altercation before. He's certainly never been stabbed before. Never had a man holding him in place, sadistically delighted by his pain, promising to make it a slow death. Never summoned Azathoth with the intention to do harm. All of the nevers coalescing into an experience wholly unique to his life thus far and deeply, viscerally terrifying.

Being alone with that experience right now might do his head in.

It's how he finds himself at the front door of Akira's apartment in 6, breathless from his sprint. His torso is soaked in blood, streaked on the palm he'd pressed to it in a panic and down his chin from where he coughed through Azathoth's healing. His sweater sticks to his shirt, and his shirt sticks to his newly pristine skin.

After a moment of attempting to catch his breath, he knocks.

When Akira answers, he'll say before anything else: ]

I'm not hurt. I'm perfectly fine. Please don't panic, it looks much worse than it really is!

[ YEAH, IT SURE DOES. Sorry, Akira! ]