To a degree, the situation was similar here at least. At home? This would have been regrettably a waste of time, a thing that was very much of the essence. Enjoying the ride was one thing, but dilly dallying around when he had a book to find and a goddess to remake was another. Here though? Well, no rush for anything in particular at all really. Not his world, not his problem. No timeline, no heroes to beat to the finish, no riddles to puzzle out or problems to work through. It would have been so boring otherwise, thank goodness Gunji was here. Or else someone else would have had to shoulder the burden of keeping the mage occupied and entertained.
Wouldn't be much fun if he couldn't give tit for tat, the punctured diaphragm quickly threading itself back together again like a skein of silk. No words at first, just a ragged cough to clear his lungs of blood and fluid. "Inventive." One word, laced with pain, those three syllables wet and slurred as a line of blood and spit trailed from the corner of his mouth. Screaming wasn't his thing, it never had been even prior to his little transcendental experience in the Backyard, but he could still give Gunji something, damp sounding hisses and sharp, agonized and choked noises as flesh tore and bones cracked.
A kiss, close enough to it, if their faces lined up again he might even consider giving a real one next time. For now though, as Gunji pressed his head into his neck, he was more than happy to oblige him, sucking upon the broken flesh as he dug his teeth in. His tongue rasped over them, those hidden scars, swirling and slipping over each knot and divot as he took the time through this entire welcomed torture to muse over what caused them. A hundred stories, a thousand fights, all on the tip of his tongue.
His arm was finally released, and he'd not be made a liar: quick as a whip the twisted limb began to reassemble itself, skin and muscle bubbling as it reformed, rapidly regrowing bone twisting the misshapen extremity back to it's proper position. The wound Gunji jammed his fingers into however, remained, only vaguely more shallow now in the interest of being able to keep talking. With his mouth filled with blood, not sure and not caring if it was his own or Gunji's, he released his bite to pull to his ear, spattering crimson across the shell of it as he spoke again.
"D'you feel it? Feel that pulse in there, real deep? Goin' at the same beat as yours, just the same you an' me." Slurred and drunken, reveling in this animal depravity without a single concern about what might come of it.
"Alive, still existing, despite everything else. Just the same. S'beautiful. It's perfect."
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Wouldn't be much fun if he couldn't give tit for tat, the punctured diaphragm quickly threading itself back together again like a skein of silk. No words at first, just a ragged cough to clear his lungs of blood and fluid. "Inventive." One word, laced with pain, those three syllables wet and slurred as a line of blood and spit trailed from the corner of his mouth. Screaming wasn't his thing, it never had been even prior to his little transcendental experience in the Backyard, but he could still give Gunji something, damp sounding hisses and sharp, agonized and choked noises as flesh tore and bones cracked.
A kiss, close enough to it, if their faces lined up again he might even consider giving a real one next time. For now though, as Gunji pressed his head into his neck, he was more than happy to oblige him, sucking upon the broken flesh as he dug his teeth in. His tongue rasped over them, those hidden scars, swirling and slipping over each knot and divot as he took the time through this entire welcomed torture to muse over what caused them. A hundred stories, a thousand fights, all on the tip of his tongue.
His arm was finally released, and he'd not be made a liar: quick as a whip the twisted limb began to reassemble itself, skin and muscle bubbling as it reformed, rapidly regrowing bone twisting the misshapen extremity back to it's proper position. The wound Gunji jammed his fingers into however, remained, only vaguely more shallow now in the interest of being able to keep talking. With his mouth filled with blood, not sure and not caring if it was his own or Gunji's, he released his bite to pull to his ear, spattering crimson across the shell of it as he spoke again.
"D'you feel it? Feel that pulse in there, real deep? Goin' at the same beat as yours, just the same you an' me." Slurred and drunken, reveling in this animal depravity without a single concern about what might come of it.
"Alive, still existing, despite everything else. Just the same. S'beautiful. It's perfect."