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[cephalothorax]

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[cephalothorax]

I'm not certain that qualifies as an answer.

[He sighs, rubs his face. tries to banish the image of Hisoka broken and bleeding from his head.]

[debauchewy]

[Rubbing his face, so his eyes are covered for a moment. He'll feel fingers nudge up under his chin, smooth over a cheek and find Hisoka looking up at him from under low lids. Still laying down, still smiling as content as before.]

Someone I mentioned before. Lancer. Maybe I let him play with me too much~

[cephalothorax]

Clearly.

[Chrollo opens his eyes again, and looks over at Hisoka. And then dips his head down and kisses Hisoka's fingers.]

Idiot.

I'm... glad you contacted me.

[debauchewy]

Of course. [A laugh, lifting his hand away, giving a small shrug, eyes closing again.]

I wouldn't've gone this far if it wasn't for that new trick of yours. [Thanks for being there so he can get away with being stupid.]

[cephalothorax]

...I should punch you for that comment.

[translation: DON'T USE HIM AS AN EXCUSE TO BE A LUNATIC]

[debauchewy]

[A wide smile, pushing to sit up now. His back cracks a little, here and there down his spine and he stretches up his arms before letting them go slack, hands on his lap. He cocks his head, looking over at him, giving a coy smile.]

So? Punch me then.

[cephalothorax]

[ugh. Hisoka.]

I'm not rewarding you for absurdity.

[debauchewy]

Hm~ [A glance down, leaning in a little, slightly turning.]

Then award me for my dependence.

[cephalothorax]

[Chrollo stares at him. And then gives him a very light punch on the cheek. Almost more of a nudge with his fist.]

[debauchewy]

[Slowly turns his head with it, as if it had more force than it did.]

[A chuckle, falling back, flat against the ground again. He runs his hands down his chest, stomach, groin, bucking his hips up and hitching in his breath. He then lets go, curling his head against a shoulder.]

I can't help it- I know, it's sickening isn't it? [Said though, through that still lingering smile.]

[cephalothorax]

[...it is, a bit actually. But he's used to that. Chrollo sighs and then... lies down next to Hisoka on the ground.]

You're going to give me grey hairs. How thoughtless.

[debauchewy]

You might look good with a little salt and pepper. [A laugh.]

But surely I would gain some before you. Young Chrollo~ [A sigh, breathing deep, resting his hands on his stomach.]

You've done so much so young...

[cephalothorax]

It must be the greed in me.

[Always striving him to greater heights. Even though he barely fights, really, so what use is it all?

He turns his head to look at Hisoka.]

...actually. How old are you?

[debauchewy]

[A laugh. The greed? Hm...]

[His age- haven't they spoken of this before? He closes his eyes.]

Twenty eight. [Honesty? Maybe.]

[cephalothorax]

Tsk. That's not much older than I am at all.

[Assuming it's the truth.]

[debauchewy]

And how old is that? [Staying still, accept a hand, fondling at an edge of clothing off the other man, rubbing a knuckle against hip- side.]

[cephalothorax]

Twenty-Six.

[And he rests his hand over Hisoka's.]

[debauchewy]

[A small breath, it hitches in his throat and he smooths his thumb over the other man's skin. His eyes open though, he merely looks up. Through branches, through leaves still small...]

Two years. Not long at all. [Closing his eyes again.] Why is it the young always impress me the most? [A laugh.] Or perhaps, it's the wait that makes me long.

[cephalothorax]

Or potential, I suppose. Although that doesn't explain me.

[Not much does, actually. He's still confused by it.]

[debauchewy]

Hm? [A glance over.]

How doesn't it? Your potential is limitless.

[cephalothorax]

I know.

[No one ever accused him of being humble. But he's not arrogant either - just realistic. And he's aware of what he's made himself into... and what he has still to become.]

...although I don't spend much time on battlefields. Most of the time.

But I think it's just a question of perception. I've never considered myself especially compelling on my own. Only as one part of a larger unit.

That's changed a bit, here. It needed to.

[debauchewy]

[A small breath, pulling his hand away finally and moving to sit up. His neck stretches, looking up still, lids low. There's a chill in the air but he knows the shiver running down his spine is lingering results of his fight. Still- Lancer isn't who's on his mind right now.]

[Funny thing- he should be. But maybe the past is fading into the abyss far faster than usual? Or maybe anything past not concerning his current company just is out shined by what does. Thoughtful again, quiet, his hands back to sitting in his lap.]

Mmm- The Phantom Troupe. [A light laugh, closing his eyes. He raises a hand up, but just to smooth back his white hair, strands of it flopping back over his face soon after.] Known by that name, that group. But then that's what you want, to only be known by that, rather the spider's head, than Chrollo Lucilfer.

[cephalothorax]

[Chrollo watches him for a bit... and then pulls himself upright as well, at the end.]

The latter is simply my name. The former is who and what I am.

That's why I prefer to be seen - and known - that way. Besides. Every last one of them is exceptional. Why focus on me?

...of course, I already know the answer. It's only that it... sits strangely in my mind.

[debauchewy]

What does? [A glance over his shoulder.]

[cephalothorax]

The answer.

That you focused on me simply because I'm the strongest of them.

[It's not something he says regularly. It seems simultaneously excessive and unnecessary. But he can say it. To Hisoka, he can say it.]

In a world without me, perhaps you would have been following one of the others.

[Probably Feitan or Uvo.]