Strut on a line, it's discord and rhyme

[syncopathic]

Who: Dito & Tomura Shigaraki.
What: Two misanthropic edgelords go on a hunting trip. Only good things can come of this.
When: Some time in between the end of August and the beginning of September.
Where: The Sanguine Graveyard.

As if the very environment wanted the most dramatic scenario possible for this impromptu hunting trip, the graveyard was now completely blanketed in a dense and chilly fog. It seems a little too dramatic for Dito’s tastes, not the least because he’s not particularly fond of the cold. His body shivers slightly as he and his Omen make their way to the center of the graveyard, Bakari inclining her shaggy head as Dito utters a noise of displeasure.

If you’re cold, whelp, she tells him, then it’s your own fault for not dressing appropriately. Dito rolls his eyes and doesn’t give her the satisfaction of looking her way– her caustic criticisms were practically becoming rote at this point.

“Says the beastie who’s practically incorporeal and probably can’t even feel the cold. How the hell was I supposed to know this place would be like every graveyard in a gothic horror novel, huh?” Dito takes the opportunity to survey his surroundings, or at least as much as he can with the thick fog obscuring everything. Gravestones jut out of the ground like rotted teeth, some of them sporting such time-honored platitudes like “Dearly Beloved” and “Honored Husband” and “Loving Mother”.

It all seems rather pointless to Dito– after all, it’s not as if the rotting corpses were in any position to read them. The Disciple impatiently taps the butt of his spear against his foot. No sign of Wraith yet, and every second that passes sees him grow more and more peckish for a good fight.

Something tells me you may have been stood up, runt, Bakari remarks, once again demonstrating her uncanny ability to read his mind. She sounds amused. Dito finally looks over at the hyena Omen and scoffs.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been cockblocked. In any case, that just means more bloodshed for me.” He once again returns his attention to the random assembly of gravestones. One more minute, he tells himself. One more minute for Tall Light and Fashionably Late to show up, and then I’m just gonna have to go find my own entertainment.

And that'd be Wraith's loss, really. Not Dito's.

Comments

[comecatchthesehands]

For Shigaraki the weather is fucking perfect. Getting there early helped, as well. Hearing the discussion he's glad that his Omen doesn't speak to him, and he's glad that he told it to get the fuck out of here. This is no place for him no matter what the stupid thing thinks. Perched on high on one of the taller monuments to the dead, Shigaraki fits right in with the decor, keeping himself quietly ascertaining that this person isn't an immediate threat even if he could be A Threat™️. Sometimes, just to remind himself that he can still cope with or without the hand on his face, he wears it. He'd like to think it knows damn well why it's being put out on parade and so today, Dito can have the treat of it, too. That is if Shigaraki decides to speak up, which he's still deciding on.

Devil among angels in this otherwise foggy wasteland of a graveyard, he lets the conversation play out. People talking to their omens often gets him a little more than if he would've just spoken to them himself. 'Cockblocked' is exactly what's going on at the end of the day. Instead, once it seems like the entire conversation between man and beast has stopped, Shigaraki speaks up from his perch on high.

Squatting on the edge of a tall angel wing, "I don't stand people up when I'm the one that makes the appointment. You just need better eyes and ears." As if that would've helped. It wouldn't have, but you know. A singular hop down from the large monument and he's on the ground, fingers pressed all four to the dirt. Standing up after, he uses the other hand to flip his dark coat back so it straightens itself out in the foggy light. "I'm gonna assume you're not going to be blind because of the fog?"

Sorry, very cute omen, Shigaraki doesn't talk to them just yet.

[syncopathic]

Boy oh boy, does this guy ever have a hard-on for making an entrance. Not that Dito minds it, not in the least-- he would never claim to not possess his own dramatic flair. That wicked-looking spear comes to rest against his shoulder, and he taps it nonchalantly while getting a good eyeful of his hunting partner. The other man is of relatively average height (though tall compared to Dito, he notes with slight irritation), his body lanky and long-limbed. Shoulder-length white hair frames his face-- currently covered by one of those beautifully creepy hands-- in messy waves. He's dressed modestly, obviously not one to draw too much attention to himself.

"Oh, don't worry. I've got good enough eyes to enjoy the very nice view in front of me, that's for sure." Dito doesn't mind the pleased grin that automatically stretches across his face. He'd liked what little he'd seen during their virtual tête-à-tête, and nothing about the man so far has done much to discourage that. The hyena omen at his side briefly glances up at him, then shakes herself, letting out a huff of annoyance.

Undeterred, Dito bends in a mocking, sweeping bow. "Shall we go, then? I usually like to lead, but I don't mind you taking the initiative this time if that's what you're into." His grin turns rakish; mischievous. Bakari utters a soft, long-suffering groan. Apparently this isn't the first time she's been a party to her host's attempts at courtship.

[comecatchthesehands]

At least being a walking boner isn't something that he was just pulling for the conversation. Not ideal, but not a big problem either. Shigaraki has dealt with worse problems in people than just focusing sexually and being blind when they do. The sweeping bow is given a moment or two notice before he starts walking. Specifically he walks past the bowed body and pauses at his Omen. His eyes glide over the companion, and he turns to keep walking. "I won't follow if you lead. You can keep up or you can go."

Which isn't hard, he's not going to run anywhere. "What's your Omen's name?" He's not going to directly speak to them, just yet. Even if the Omen seems a little fun.

[syncopathic]

Dito fairly shivers as the man passes him by without another word, and this time it's not due to the weather. Cold as ice, this one. Fortunately Dito's kind of really into that. After dealing with his mistress's overly indulgent displays of affection, this sort of frigid reception is a welcome change. Regardless, that smirk never leaves his face as he rises from his bow and falls into step behind him.

The hyena omen glances up at Shigaraki, keeping steady pace with him. Her eyes, stark white in a shadowed face, appraise him with intelligent scrutiny. "Bakari," she says simply, in a voice that is at once authoritative and matriarchal. "Forgive the uncouth behavior of my host. The powers that be gifted him both a penis and a brain, and only enough blood to run one at a time."

"Listen," comes Dito's sardonic reply from behind them. "It's almost impossible to properly manage such huge organs at the same time, y'know what I mean?" Bakari lets out another irritated huff, casting an almost sympathetic look in Shigaraki's direction. "I hope you enjoy the sound of his voice, child. You're going to be hearing a lot of it."

But, Shigaraki, I wanna talk about it............

[comecatchthesehands]

If Dito likes being ignored, he's found the right date. Shigaraki ignores people on the regular and is a pro at it. But. At least this time he wants to see exactly what this man can do. Tiny doesn't mean a thing when Toga could end the lives of a massive amount of people all on her own.

Alright, so the animal is talking to him, and so is the Omen. Great. Well he hadn't been talking to the Omen but she seems like the control factor. "I bet if you both stopped talking about his dick it wouldn't be a topic of conversation." In fact, why doesn't he just stem this tide right now?

Shigaraki pauses, turns and looks at the smaller framed man, head tilted to one side, then the other as he studies him otherwise deadpan and unmoving aside his crossed arms. "Tell me something without innuendo about yourself, and I'll tell you my name. You include a dick joke, hit on me, or anything else for that duration and you don't get it."

[syncopathic]

Dito huffs out a petulant sigh, looking for all the world like a child temporarily deprived of his favorite toy. Eventually he shrugs, as if Shigaraki's threat was one in which he had to take a few seconds to review the pros and cons.

"Fair enough. Anything in particular you wanna know about? Let's see... I hate intense cold and intense heat. My favorite food is stew, simmered to perfection. Not a big fan of sweets. Seafood makes me gag-- had a nasty encounter with a rotting giant crab that was still alive once. When I'm not hunting things I like reading philosophy and history-- thank god this place has an assortment of books so I can take that hobby up again."

Throughout his whole speech, Dito busies himself with balancing his spear on the palm of his hand. In one deft movement he sends it flipping above his head, catching it by the haft as it descends towards him. He glances once again in Shigaraki's direction.

"How was that? That enough to go on? Should I say something about how I enjoy long walks on the beach? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I told you I'm not into lying."

[comecatchthesehands]

Shigaraki will wait. He has ... not a lot of time. Only because if he gets bored while he's waiting, he'll leave. Luckily, that isn't an issue when he looks out through the fingers and Dito is there taking that ultimatum.

When he's done showing off, which, true enough it is impressive to see someone handle a shaft a lance like that, he turns away and begins to walk again. "Shigaraki. Tomura." Both and or either are fine. "We can stop on the beach when we're done."

He only checks over his shoulder once before he's scratching softly at his neck and rolling his shoulders. "Keep up." Off on a dead run he goes. A lot more quick than most might expect, but most people weren't Dito. Shigaraki doesn't like just how much he might have to work for some of these wins, but he's going to if it kills him first. First up, getting out of the graveyard and into somewhere more woods related. It means a good workout of hopping onto branches and down off of them where necessary to run longer miles. This is something he learned in his last world to enjoy and has been enjoying ever since.

[syncopathic]

Dito watches the man dart off, sheathing the spear in the scabbard at his side in one fluid motion. "Shigaraki. Tomura." He speaks the names softly; slowly, as if savoring their taste on his tongue. With a glance over a Bakari, meeting her dubious expression with one of amusement-- get a load of this guy, huh?-- Dito kicks himself into a run to catch up with the taller, lankier man.

The mist is thick, clinging to the ground and obscuring many of the road hazards along the way-- rocks and upturned roots and broken gravestones. But Dito has always been almost preternaturally surefooted, and he evades each patch of uneven ground as if he had predicted it beforehand. In no time at all he's neck and neck with Shigaraki, Bakari loping in an easy gallop alongside him.

"So... what sort of quarry are we after? A lycanthrope? A banshee? Something with a lot of eyes and a segmented torso?" Dito's voice is even; nonchalant. He doesn't even sound out of breath from the pace Shigaraki has set.