( The note is handwritten, this time, on a page from a notepad with the Golden Peacock's name and logo on it. It's the middle of the afternoon when Esikko slips it, folded neatly into a little square, into Dabi's palm. He hardly leaves time for a reaction, giving a little wave as he steps back, half a skip, and turns to leave the suite. Dabi's been so kind to let him sleep here, despite the interruptions, but he has some things to gather and prepare for.
⚘
In the gardens, it's not difficult to find Esikko. Most of the people who are out at this hour are in the lower levels, indulging in alcohol, drugs, sex, or all of the above. Esi, though, is situated just to the side of a plot of unlabeled flowers. There's a large variety of them, some his own plantings, but most belonging to the House— but his set up is actually on the pathway and grass just beside it. There are various things set out in a clear formation; candles, tufts of rabbit fur, strands of hair, flower petals, and separate plants arranged along with the geometric patterns of the blood drawn beneath them. The projected moon and stars above them help create quite the scene, as false as it is.
Esikko is there, crouched down, his finger tracing out the last blood trail of a line in one of his complex shapes. Beside him is an assortment of jars of blood, including the very one he had Dabi cough into back during the flower illness that spread across the resort. The rest were gathered by him personally, too, like stealing from the clinic, or asking his bodyguard, or even bleeding himself. An elaborate little setup with a strange not-so-little collection. The only other thing on his person is a little golden journal, branded with the Golden Peacock, clutched in his hand.
The Prince lifts his head when he hears someone approaching, and pushes himself to stand up. )
You came. ( There's something like happiness in the tone he uses, and he folds his arms in front of himself, holding the journal there close to his chest. )
Are you curious? You want to see how I can put this all to use, right?
( This is clearly thrilling to him. Not just the blood— the magic, the things he's about to poke and prod at, and maybe even the company. He's made a lot of use of Dabi lately, and while it's not like him to dwell on guilt or anything like that, Esikko can't help but want to show his own usefulness in return. To reach forward the only way he knows how. )
blood
𝑴𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒅𝒐 𝒐𝒘𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖.
3𝒂𝒎.
- 𝓔𝓼𝓲𝓴𝓴𝓸
( The note is handwritten, this time, on a page from a notepad with the Golden Peacock's name and logo on it. It's the middle of the afternoon when Esikko slips it, folded neatly into a little square, into Dabi's palm. He hardly leaves time for a reaction, giving a little wave as he steps back, half a skip, and turns to leave the suite. Dabi's been so kind to let him sleep here, despite the interruptions, but he has some things to gather and prepare for.
In the gardens, it's not difficult to find Esikko. Most of the people who are out at this hour are in the lower levels, indulging in alcohol, drugs, sex, or all of the above. Esi, though, is situated just to the side of a plot of unlabeled flowers. There's a large variety of them, some his own plantings, but most belonging to the House— but his set up is actually on the pathway and grass just beside it. There are various things set out in a clear formation; candles, tufts of rabbit fur, strands of hair, flower petals, and separate plants arranged along with the geometric patterns of the blood drawn beneath them. The projected moon and stars above them help create quite the scene, as false as it is.
Esikko is there, crouched down, his finger tracing out the last blood trail of a line in one of his complex shapes. Beside him is an assortment of jars of blood, including the very one he had Dabi cough into back during the flower illness that spread across the resort. The rest were gathered by him personally, too, like stealing from the clinic, or asking his bodyguard, or even bleeding himself. An elaborate little setup with a strange not-so-little collection. The only other thing on his person is a little golden journal, branded with the Golden Peacock, clutched in his hand.
The Prince lifts his head when he hears someone approaching, and pushes himself to stand up. )
You came. ( There's something like happiness in the tone he uses, and he folds his arms in front of himself, holding the journal there close to his chest. )
Are you curious? You want to see how I can put this all to use, right?
( This is clearly thrilling to him. Not just the blood— the magic, the things he's about to poke and prod at, and maybe even the company. He's made a lot of use of Dabi lately, and while it's not like him to dwell on guilt or anything like that, Esikko can't help but want to show his own usefulness in return. To reach forward the only way he knows how. )
Come here.