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[cephalothorax]

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[cephalothorax]

A bit. I have to maintain the appearance of civilization, after all.

[Otherwise, he'd be just as comfortable living out of boxes forever. He wouldn't even need four fully formed walls.]

You seem... calm.

[debauchewy]

Hm~ Do I? [A wry smirk, glancing to him before passing and going to slump into the nearest, comfiest looking chair he can find.]

[Honestly he isn't sure what he wants by being here tonight. The urge to not see anyone was large on the list. That memory in his head down, making him sick. It could've been a pleasant moment, and ability like that? Intriguing. But now-

Now he, didn't really want to think at all.]

[Or really do much. He wanted to stare off and go blank, but he wanted some presence there at the same time.]

[cephalothorax]

[Well, fortunately, sitting spots are among the first things Chrollo put together here. Because how is he supposed to read his books if he has nowhere to sit?]

[But seriously this is a little strange. Hisoka is not... acting himself, not at all. And chrollo watches him for a moment, brow furrowed, trying to determine exactly what might be wrong.]

[But he just doesn't know. So he follows Hisoka to where he's sitting, and kind of. Sits on the floor at his feet. Casual as can be.]

You do. And quiet. It's unlike you.

[debauchewy]

[It's not casual at all.]

[His eyes move, that's all that moves, and he stares down at him with a blank expression. Quiet. Unlike him. Is it then.]

[He raises his hand, fingers spread, flat, his palm facing Chrollo. There's a long slit down his palm, deep, and looks rather intentional.]

Could you? [Fix it, as in. This- reminder. He's not usually fond of marks, but he dislikes this one even more.]

[cephalothorax]

[...well that's. Surprising.

Chrollo narrows his eyes a bit and looks up at Hisoka. And his fingers drag down the center of his palm... leaving pristine, unmarked skin behind as they pass.

He holds that hand, though, even after it's over.]

What happened?

[debauchewy]

[Glances away.]

[A sigh.]

I met someone, mmn- a new ImPort.

[cephalothorax]

...all right.

[Narrows his eyes a little, and doesn't. let go.]

[debauchewy]

[...]

He cut my hand to show me something. Apparently he was a demon. [A slight laugh through his nose, smirking a little.]

[cephalothorax]

[...well that's interesting. Chrollo had, admittedly, never actually met a demon.]

And what is it he showed you?

[debauchewy]

[Tugs his hand a little, trying to get it from Chrollo's grip.]

Myself- apparently. Or part of me. [A down cast look, looking to his hand.] It seems he had an ability that allowed him to see my memories. [And- make him relive them too.]

[Annoying.]

[cephalothorax]

[Chrollo releases Hisoka's hand, sure. But he doesn't look away.]

Unpleasant memories, it seems.

[debauchewy]

Mn- [A light smile, pulling back his hand and turning it to look at the palm. His fingers spread- close- spread, and he keeps that smile, watching the new skin pull and wrinkle before he sets down the hand all together.]

['Unpleasant', sure. It was, that's why he didn't want to think about them, why he just let the past be the past. Still- even if he had a few enjoyable interactions after that little display, his mind went back to it. Like an old photo you always knew you had tucked away and when you finally take it out again you can't help but be surprised by it. Can't help keep looking at it.]

[It was maddening. To see himself back then. Young, and weak, and influenced. To feel the same thing he felt then for a moment.]

[His expression sours again, laying his head back against the seat back, staring to the side.]

[cephalothorax]

...ah. Or something more complex than unpleasant.

[Chrollo frowns a little, watching him.]

Another one of your stories, yet untold.

[debauchewy]

[Another sound comes from him, apathetic almost, staring off. Other than that he doesn't say much more. Something like this is unusual for him as much as it seems unusual to Chrollo. He's not used to reliving his past. Maybe that's why he doesn't talk much of it. Because most of the time? He doesn't want to. Doesn't bother to. Cat like in his bitterness he sits, teeming slightly. Staring off. If he had a tail the tip might flick here and there. His spine might bristle. But he isn't, so he's still. Quiet. Stares off in the dark room, flexing that newly healed hand.]

[He doesn't think to share more. Wouldn't that be openly acknowledging it again? Stories left untold because they're meant to. For him. Someone still for the most part useless saw something. He left his guard down purposely to appease his own curiosity.]

[It would've be better for that person to have attacked him. Sure this wouldn't put him out of mind in a way to confuse him. Nor would've it hinder his fighting ability should they have fought afterwards. But-

It didn't mean he enjoyed it at all.]

[cephalothorax]

[What a pickle, really. Should he ask again? Pursue his answers? It's...

tempting. But then again, it seems unnecessarily pushy to demand so much from someone who appears to be... troubled already.

Would discussing it help or hurt him? Hm.

It's difficult to say. At the moment, all Chrollo can know for sure is that Hisoka... doesn't want to be alone.]

...hm.

[He leans back on his palms.]

I might be a bit envious, actually. Perhaps.

I can't decide.

[debauchewy]

Mn- [Actually he smirks at that, closing his eyes.]

You would. [A chuckle.] He thanked me afterwards, how peculiar.

[cephalothorax]

Is that peculiar? Your life must have been interesting. And such a closed book.

[Even to him. they'd promised one another an exchange of stories once but... well. that was cut a bit short.]

[debauchewy]

He barely saw much of it. If anything at all.

[cephalothorax]

And yet here we are.

[And here you are. Chrollo smiles... very slightly. Softly, looking up at him.]

And I still want to know about you.

[debauchewy]

[Frowns, looking away.]

Hmph.

[cephalothorax]

Hisoka.

[He knudges Hisoka's knee a little.]

[debauchewy]

[Leans back further. Tilts his head up to face at the ceiling and thus- more away.]

[cephalothorax]

Ah, just like last time.

[debauchewy]

[The implication that he's predictable bothers him. It wouldn't really normally but, Chrollo saying that just makes him feel more annoyed with the night.]

[He stares up at the ceiling for a long moment before-

pulling in a deep breath.]

You sound so disappointed. [Sigh.] Your curiosity- perhaps it's as bad as mine. [Considering he allowed this to happen due to it...]

It was- far away. Does it matter anymore- [Another pause, breathing in deep through his nose.] When I was a boy.

[cephalothorax]

[Is it even curiosity, really? He frowns a little, but lets the question float away.]

Does it matter? I don't know. Does it have to?

Even if it's irrelevant... I still want to know.