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THE REGENT'S ADDRESS [OPEN TO ALL]
[It comes on fast, once the Regent has your spirit in their hold. Around you, you may see other Aions stumble in the same moment, as if shaken by the same tectonic motion. An inexorable darkness claws at your senses, and you have only a few moments, hard fought, to reposition yourself so that you don't simply drop to the ground when it overtakes you. It has similarities to Communion, to the way another entity's thoughts and words reach out to your mind, but by the same token it's entirely foreign.
This presence is not like another person, it is like a raging, screaming cacophony that drowns out everything else in its path. Whether you be Kenoma or Pleroma, the Regent's presence in this metaphysical realm is staggering. To the Pleroma, though, it also feels caustic, as if the movement of their aura is enough to erode your own, with time.
Gradually, a new world forms. Unlike other Communions, where you are ultimately grounded in reality, here you can been dragged to what seems to be its own distinct psychic realm. A vast, void-filled courtroom, where only the throne at its front has a defined form. Around you, you see shadows of other people, other Aions, that have summoned along with you... but for the moment they seem spectral and unclear, their identities obscured by the realm's aggressive focus on its master.
The Regent sits at their throne, their body swathed in dark fabrics that drift and flutter like smoke. They have no face to be seen, only a faceted silver mask, without any markings or the barest indication of what might be beneath it. Their size is indistinct, maybe a bit taller than you are. They at first sit reclined, but straight up as their 'guests' arrive.]
It's been a long time coming, my subjects.
[At first, they are the only one that can be heard. Though you feel as if you have some physical presence here, a shadowy body of your own, if you attempt to speak no sound emerges.]
To the Pleroma: well done surviving thus far. Granted, I feel as if my Kenoma have made things easy for you. How strange, that most of you were allowed to wander a city within my empire without recourse. Able to summon that wretched creature to your side, even.
I hope you've enjoyed yourself, in the time you've had, because this will be no more. You've spread your infection in Venera, in Godsblood, and it is only necessary that these wounds be cleansed by the touch of the Kenoma. Your presence gives the people ideas... ideas that would disrupt the fragile peace they've come to enjoy, after so many years of suffering. As a kindness, I will only trim the vine, rather than burn the vineyard. What Venerans have taken up your cause, I will see shorn from my empire. And in Godsblood... an example will be made, as of the Sovereign's moon.
My Kenoma will do this for me. Fight them, if you want. But know that I am no longer asking for your fealty. I am demanding it.
[As if opening their court for questions, you will find yourself more able to act. Those that speak or take action will find their physical forms taking shape, standing in the court as people rather than shadows. If you want to question the Regent, now is the time to do so.
OOC: This post is a free for all! We will try to response as the Regent to people who directly engage with them, but you are also allowed to threadjack and interact with each other if you like. Please note that we will not be responding to tag ins done later than the 12th.]
This presence is not like another person, it is like a raging, screaming cacophony that drowns out everything else in its path. Whether you be Kenoma or Pleroma, the Regent's presence in this metaphysical realm is staggering. To the Pleroma, though, it also feels caustic, as if the movement of their aura is enough to erode your own, with time.
Gradually, a new world forms. Unlike other Communions, where you are ultimately grounded in reality, here you can been dragged to what seems to be its own distinct psychic realm. A vast, void-filled courtroom, where only the throne at its front has a defined form. Around you, you see shadows of other people, other Aions, that have summoned along with you... but for the moment they seem spectral and unclear, their identities obscured by the realm's aggressive focus on its master.
The Regent sits at their throne, their body swathed in dark fabrics that drift and flutter like smoke. They have no face to be seen, only a faceted silver mask, without any markings or the barest indication of what might be beneath it. Their size is indistinct, maybe a bit taller than you are. They at first sit reclined, but straight up as their 'guests' arrive.]
It's been a long time coming, my subjects.
[At first, they are the only one that can be heard. Though you feel as if you have some physical presence here, a shadowy body of your own, if you attempt to speak no sound emerges.]
To the Pleroma: well done surviving thus far. Granted, I feel as if my Kenoma have made things easy for you. How strange, that most of you were allowed to wander a city within my empire without recourse. Able to summon that wretched creature to your side, even.
I hope you've enjoyed yourself, in the time you've had, because this will be no more. You've spread your infection in Venera, in Godsblood, and it is only necessary that these wounds be cleansed by the touch of the Kenoma. Your presence gives the people ideas... ideas that would disrupt the fragile peace they've come to enjoy, after so many years of suffering. As a kindness, I will only trim the vine, rather than burn the vineyard. What Venerans have taken up your cause, I will see shorn from my empire. And in Godsblood... an example will be made, as of the Sovereign's moon.
My Kenoma will do this for me. Fight them, if you want. But know that I am no longer asking for your fealty. I am demanding it.
[As if opening their court for questions, you will find yourself more able to act. Those that speak or take action will find their physical forms taking shape, standing in the court as people rather than shadows. If you want to question the Regent, now is the time to do so.
OOC: This post is a free for all! We will try to response as the Regent to people who directly engage with them, but you are also allowed to threadjack and interact with each other if you like. Please note that we will not be responding to tag ins done later than the 12th.]
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Then we'll await your further orders until then. Who will be made an example of in Godsblood?
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Does this cell have a name, if they are so well-established?
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[And unless anyone has anything further to say to him, Barnaby will settle for rejoining the rest of the shadowy figures in the room.]
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As Barnaby adds himself to those with the guts to question a being powerful enough to obliterate the home worlds of every Aion present and all those who have come before them, J surreptitiously studies his companion's steely resolve. It reminds him of the man's skirmish against the cultists at the Kenoma lodestone, and how he'd refused to back down no matter how many tried to press-gang him to submit.
Natural as his bravery appears to be, that's not all that makes up a man who had cried and held him over fears of doing harm to a demon he'd befriended only some months ago, yet still knew practically nothing about. A man who had rushed off to help Venera's most vulnerable after suffering the psychological torture both J and the Innocence infection had put upon him, instead of devoting time to licking his own wounds.
There's an inherent conflict between a man with a heart oceans-wide and the ruthless task at hand that spells certain death for the very citizens Barnaby had been so determined to save. Typically, J couldn't care less for mortal quandaries or how those among his peers are being saddled with acts of warfare their hearts are unprepared to take on. But Barnaby is one of only two exceptions to this; if only because the consequences that lie ahead are sure to be dire, and the Regent has made it clear their tolerance for half-measures or weak stomachs is long gone.
His approach doesn't come immediately after the Regent dismisses Barnaby's final question. That's still too obvious a move to make when they're being watched not only by the being in command, but every person in this vision. Flamboyant as he is, he's survived this long by use of his wit more than anything else. He's cautious to the point of waiting until eyes have shifted away from Barnaby to make his way over to him.
Prone to sliding up behind someone for all the advantages it brings, J announces himself this way with a hand to Barnaby's back. While his touch settles there lightly, it is meant to be a solid and steady reassurance to someone who had just been rebuked by a creature more powerful than anything most of them could fathom. With their differences in height, J has to lean down somewhat to properly address his fellow Aion, but that's to his benefit when the closeness allows more of a whisper that curtails their conversation from at least those in the crowd. ]
Looks like things are really ramping up. [ J's brows lift as he studies Barnaby's expression, looking for something in his eyes that will give clues to how things may culminate in the near future. ]
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And now the Regent wants to subject the people of Horos to further misery. For political gain, yes, but also for the additional purpose of weeding out dissidents even within the ranks of the Kenoma. Much like when Jake had held the city of Sternbild in the palm of his hand to bait out the heroes to their ruin, Barnaby has no choice here but to walk directly into this trap. To do nothing, to let people be rounded up and executed en masse as he suspects will happen, would be unthinkable.
Though he outwardly looks perfectly calm, content to fade into shadow once more, inside he can feel a deep, blistering rage eating at him. It's a familiar feeling, one he's gotten better at restraining, but a feeling that had never truly gone away. A sensation that constantly burned away at his insides since the fire more than two decades ago, that constant, agonising, furious ache. But Kotetsu would tell him to stay calm and think things through. Kotetsu would advise him not to act rashly, but to come up with a plan. Kotetsu would throw all of his personal grievances aside, and think about how he could do the most good for the most people, with the dwindling power that he had.
There's simply no question about it, and so the impasse Barnaby faces isn't truly an impasse at all, even if that spells his end here much sooner than he'd anticipated. He's slowly coming to terms with that realisation when he feels a gentle hand on the small of his back, causing him to look up in surprise. It's J, the one person here with an uncanny knack of appearing at his side when he's at his lowest.]
They are. [He agrees quietly, aware J is trying to read him. He has no reason to hide the resignation in his eyes. Unlike some of the other Kenoma still in shock or denial, his mind is made up, for better or for worse.] You don't need to worry about me, though.
[It's ambiguous: whether he means that he intends to follow the Regent's will to the letter and there's no reason to worry for his loyalties, or whether it's a way of quietly breaking off their alliance, short-lived as it had been, by letting him know he shouldn't concern himself with him any longer. He suspects J knows him well enough by now to predict his next course of action, however, and so he wants to signal there's no reason for the demon to be swept up in it, in the consequences that are inevitably going to come crashing down on his head.]
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In return for all he bestows, in vague assurances relinquishing J from any fear or guilt that may come with the other man's fate, J offers something lighthearted in return. A playful hum slips into the air while he cocks his head to one side, as if the gravity held within the succinct answer he's been given forces it to tilt off-center. Not that J looks perplexed; the action and his raised brows read as a nonverbal signal of doubt more than anything else. The kind of thing one would do with a child, when questioning a naive conclusion obviously made in error. ] Mmm, why would I be worried now?
This little provocation is simply setting in motion what was going to happen all along. [ The hand not presently resting along Barnaby's spine lifts with an open palm, as though presenting the "room" at large to his companion. The discord this summons has unleashed is clear as day; if there had been a lingering possibility for an amicable coexistence between fraction lines, it's now been lost for good. ] Destroying any illusion that we can ignore the truth and what lies ahead.
I do wonder, though. [ The arm resting along the slope of Barnaby's spine draws around to clasp his opposite shoulder. With the way he's leaning in, a little pull is all it takes to slide them close enough for their temples to touch; angled in such a way that his horns avoid his fellow Kenoma's skin. It's the only thing he can offer him now - some modicum of affection in the ruins of two lives intersected and then divided. The Regent has obliterated entire planets from the cosmos, and countless souls along with them. It's difficult to believe such an entity would think twice about destroying the shard of any who fail to live up to the expectations now set firmly in stone before them. ]
How it is that your very first instinct was to comfort me? [ When J stands to lose nothing here, and Barnaby everything. ]
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Because you're wasting your time on me. [Said as a dispassionate statement of fact. Unless he finds a way to both save as many people as he can and evade the combined might of the Kenoma and the Regent, he's going to be destroyed. By even showing him this much care, J is spending emotional energy on an investment that's worthless. A simple enough calculation, for one devoted to the destruction of countless lives for a higher purpose.]
You don't have to. In fact, it will be easier for you if you forget we ever spoke.
[Barnaby has only caused him problems, as happened in Venera. Continuing to associate with him now will surely only create more.]
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[ So many here are in the midst of making a desperate bid to supply desperate pleas or debate in a last ditch effort to shift the tides determined to come in. But to J, all the noise and fervor feels a million miles away; the whole of him as detached from their scurrying as any who have stepped upon a mount of ants only to observe their frenzied response. If asked whether those watching ache with pangs of sympathy for what those creatures endured under the wrath of a single boot upon their backs, even the most well-adjusted person would deny it. J feels similarly very little as his eyes study those within this space. If their fear and ire strike so little within a demon, J wonders if any of it even registers as more than the buzzing of flies in the Regent's ear. ]
Barnaby. [ The hand curling around a shoulder gives it a soft squeeze, while J's mouth quirks up into a smile despite how strangely apologetic his gaze appears. ]
Nothing with you has ever been a waste. [ Those few hushed words may hold another meaning, once things begin to unfold in the near future. For now, they sound little more than sentimental; cherishing a moment that's long passed its zenith and now begins to sink into the ever dwindling hours before its dusk. ]
sort of here... but not really here
it would only compromise them over time, after all. doing his part to ensure they were eliminated or otherwise smoothed over before it got to that point was not only something he did for the good of the Kenoma, but for himself — he wouldn't abide getting caught up in someone else's foolish mistake.
by the time he returns his attention to where it had formerly been (glaring daggers into J, of course, mentally bidding him not to do something outrageous or over-the-top where the Regent was concerned), he's gone. he scans the space again and then finds him with one arm draped around the shoulders of barnaby, murmuring something to him as he leans in close.
for the moment, makoto doesn't make any move to approach or interfere.
but he does, however, glare at the other demon with a look that would strike him dead if it had the power to. )
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Still, whatever his intended meaning, it ends today. Barnaby reaches and takes his hand, gently removing it from his shoulder.]
I'm glad, in that case, but I don't have anything left to offer you. [Then, with the slightest dry humour--] And I certainly can't help you if you're bored.
[He wants to leave as much as everyone else here, but he just has to wait it out like the rest of them.]
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[ Sure, his grubby paws have been batted away with more tolerance than most who've had their space invaded thanks to J's handsy nature. Try as Barnaby might, that doesn't provide any guarantees to keep them or his schemes at bay. In fact, those hands spring into action not even a minute after they've been cast off. Both appearing with the same irritating precision as a weed poking up in the exact spot it'd previously been evicted from. He fusses at the front of Barnaby's shirt with every intent to neatly straighten it, with all the impotent stalling typical before a meaningful departure. ]
You draw a little too much attention to yourself, Bunnykins. [ While trapped within this mental landscape, he doesn't doubt the possibility that their conversations are being monitored. This is the Regent's home field, where the limitations and control their overlord exerts is presently unknown. (With the few exceptions provided by the foolhardy lot that chose this moment to attack.) So he prunes his every response to be far removed from what it is now: conspiring with a soon-to-be traitor. And what better way to do that, than to provide a distraction from the truth? A domestic dispute over a fictitious affair that others have already assumed when trying to get a read on the nature of their relationship.
If the walls have ears, J will provide little but fodder for Achamoth's next great country hit, entitled Shardbreak at the Citadel. And if not, they do have an audience of one other than J to entertain. While his fellow demon lost track of him for a while there, J has been keeping one very central eye on Makoto long enough to catch him staring. ]
Now that you're washing your hands of this, it looks like someone else already has their sights set on you. [ J doesn't need to spell out the warning to make it clear. Barnaby is being watched in a way very different from how the Aions present, both friends and foe, are sizing each other up. And while he will readily alert him to a potential threat, J won't expose Makoto's observation of them in such specifics. ]
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Please don't call me that. [He says it quietly, trying to keep the anger from his voice. However much he had once hated it, Bunny belonged to Kotetsu and Kotetsu alone. He didn't want anyone else using it, least of all when the Regent had just admitted to being the one who destroyed his world. It was just another gouge at an open wound. And the Kenoma, all of them, were now accomplices in whatever happened next.]
Have you considered you're the one drawing attention to the both of us? Or perhaps you want an audience. [He did say he was bored, after all.]
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As the conversation takes a turn for the worse, J's hands withdraw to partially cross themselves across his chest. The fingers of his right perch against his face, a forefinger stretching up to massage little circles into his temple. The rest curl over a downturned mouth as the playful light in his eyes dims. ]
Come, now. That's giving me far too much credit. [ A long sigh pulls from deep within his chest as J anticipates an oncoming argument. ]
You've already done an outstanding job of shining a spotlight on yourself without the need for anyone's help.
[ It wasn't like Barnaby was being very subtle, when he'd gone on a fishing expedition for information from the Regent of all people. The room full of every Kenoma and Pleroma soon to be at war with one another surely hadn't missed the nature of those questions. Or how beneficial any potential answers would be to the Kenoma's opposition. Should Barnaby's plans have relied on him lying low before abandoning his current post, it's possible that he'd already sabotaged that option before the demon even thought to approach him. ]
And If you feel like you've been toyed with, for someone else's gain- [ Does Barnaby truly think J would throw himself under everyone's suspicion by standing at his side merely to ease the present tedium? The demon might not value his life, but with Makoto here, he's got too much to lose to be reckless without reason. ] Lashing out at the wrong target won't do you any good.
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But there's also a nagging sense at the back of his mind that there are still plenty of Kenoma who are unwilling hostages in this situation, and lashing out at them really wouldn't help. He doesn't know where J falls in that category, if he does at all, but the thought makes him rein in his temper, averting his gaze. He does have a point, that the real target of his rage is ultimately the Regent, though it doesn't bother him perhaps as much as it should that J has been able to see through him that much already. He's too angry to be afraid of what happens next.]
Just leave me alone. [He says, finally, the old habit of pushing people away rearing its head again. If he thought even for a little while that he might be able to trust the demon, or anyone here at all, now he's sure he's on his own.]
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Is that what he would do? Your Kotetsu. [ J remembers with frightening clarity that moment during their joint Innocence infection, when Barnaby's love had poured into his body like the breaking of a dam. Would a man worth that kind of immeasurable adoration simply abandon Barnaby in his most desperate hour? The sort of person who would appeal to his fellow Kenoma's sense of justice and righteousness, Hell- someone who could even measure up to Barnaby's expectations, that wouldn't be a man who could look on and expect Barnaby to fend for himself in dire straights. So perhaps using that sore spot, a dead man loved and lost, might remind Barnaby of what he's asking here: For J to potentially watch him orchestrate his own destruction. ]
Would you really expect him to leave you, to face this alone? [ Barnaby's action are so self-destructive that J can't help but point it out in the vaguest terms. His decisions are setting things up to pit Barnaby against the world at large, unless he can so easily assimilate into the very faction he's been working to destroy these last few months. He has serious doubts the Pleroma have such short memories, or are ready and willing to trust one of the legion orchestrating their destruction. The faction his mindset more readily aligns with could spell his doom just as easily as theirs.
A shard makes bodily death less of a lasting concern, but all it takes is the destruction of that soul-bound crystal left behind, and Barnaby won't be coming back to rattle the hornet's nest a second time. ] I sincerely doubt it.
So why are you so dead set on believing everyone else should let you down? [ In this crucial moment, Barnaby would do well to not conflate J's inability to change the other man's stubborn mind with the assumption he's just going to kick back, sit on his hands and doing nothing. He's not an altruistic being by any means, but J is too selfish a creature to simply let what he likes senselessly fall to ruin. ]
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And yes, Kotetsu would never abandon him. He always reined in Barnaby's more destructive impulses when he was at his worst, though he can't see why J would show anything like the same loyalty except out of self-interest. It's difficult to comprehend in circumstances like this why anyone should care about him on a personal level.]
He was the kindest person I knew. He always did everything he could for others. But I'm not naive enough to think everyone is the same.
[While J's insistence on not giving up at him does tug at his heart, it doesn't prevent that simple, internal contradiction: Kotetsu would never willingly serve the Regent. Listening to J's desire for him to not do anything rash would be the same as submitting to the Regent. So this time when he meets J's gaze once more, it's with a revised assessment:]
If you want to help me like he did, stand with me. If you want to drag me down, stay out of my way.
cw: Suicidal ideation
He and I don't need to be the same to prefer that you continue to exist, Barnaby. [ Makoto is nothing like the ghost of a man J had chased across the endless span of centuries. Every excruciating minute hollowed of even a shadow of the prior love he'd felt, nestled under Wald's protective care. His own body had been a living grave of a soul that never found peace, yet couldn't wrest itself free from the cage of flesh and blood it lay eternally snared within. In finding someone just as desperate as he'd ever been, half-starved for love and acceptance, J was offered the hope that his greatest wishes may be fulfilled. The same principle can be applied to Kotetsu and J. He doesn't have to be some heroic figure burned deep into the landscape of Barnaby's heart to provide what he needs. Namely, an obstacle to this self-destructive impulse that could put his life at risk. ]
And nice try, with your adorable ultimatum. But isn't it a little arrogant to assume you're the one calling the shots here? [ The world upon which demons preyed was filled with suffering: War, famine, disaster. People as a whole understood this fundamental fact. And with the awareness of fresh horrors unfolding upon the most helpless and vulnerable with their every breath, somehow they were still miraculously capable of going about their day, cycling through the same dull routine. Does the allowance of evil, a conscious acceptance that it will perpetuate into infinity, make those who turn their backs on it, to work a nine to five and come home to their wife and kids, guilty in their inaction? Of course not.
Evil is watching a child approach a busy street and not feeling compelled to stop them. Or witnessing a small animal drowning, it's head struggling to stay above the water of a bucket or family's pool, and choosing not to reach in to save their life. He may not necessarily be driven to take on those responsibilities. But here and now, with Barnaby in front of him, J does metaphorically reach out to offer a helping hand. ]
I can help by pointing out that you're doing a real bang-up job of looking out for yourself, without dropping everything to run off with you or turning a blind eye.
[ There's no way to save everyone who may suffer the ills of the Regent or the consequences of a war they've only just set foot within. And honestly? The demon doesn't wish to. That demands too much of a person standing on the precipice of oblivion, who flirts with gravity and dares it to tip him over the edge. Living every day feels like an endless cycle of pulling the air out from his lungs, then forcing it back in with the violence of reviving the dead. His own life is a candle left out in a drafty storm. Wavering and willing itself to stay lit, until the one meant to snuff it out finally makes his move.
To add Barnaby to that scale practically tips it over. J's cup already runs over with reasons to walk away, and yet he cradles this small attachment in the grand scale of things, for the tiniest fear it may too burn out without the shield of his hand. ]
Neither of those options are in the cards anymore. [ It's the closest thing to a warning he'll give Barnaby as to where the consequences of his actions may lead. J will gladly stand at his side, should his fellow Kenoma decide to shelve the formation of any mutinous ideas. If not? Well, that puts J in the uncomfortable position of weighing the risks of letting him go. That could lead to the Regent examining his egregious negligence in failing to report known dissidence, and using it to condemn him. And while the demon couldn't care less about himself, what would happen to his ward if J's shard was crushed beneath the Regent's boot?
Come Hell or high water, J will never place Makoto's head on the chopping block by daring to find out. He'll sacrifice himself, all of Horos, every Aion and the rest of the Universe first. ]
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If you're acting out of self-preservation, then don't pretend you care about me beyond that. And don't bring his name into this.
[That's all Barnaby has to say, his expression tightening as he crosses his arms, looking away to focus on the Regent and the latest Pleroma to shout their defiance. He and J can debate this back and forth all day, but he'd rather not complicate things by having someone overhear them -- if thy haven't already.
Even if part of him is beyond caring. The Regent, it seems, already knows about his treacherous intentions, and whatever happens next is inevitable. He just has to bide his time, and stay away from J, for as long as possible]
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And by the way, Mr. "Everything is Black and White", those two things are not mutually exclusive. Some people have the sense to not fling themselves directly in harm's way, knowing it will ultimately doom them and ruin any chances for them to actually achieve their goals later on. Unfortunately, J seems to divide the lion's share of his time between two people determined to stubbornly ignore the illogic of their reckless decisions. ]
That's where you'd be wrong. [ J gives a snort after he's finished staring at Barnaby like he's a fool, as though he's heard the most ludicrous smattering of words his fellow Kenoma could throw at him. ] The shard I'm trying to preserve isn't my own.
But seing as how you're not up for a chitchat, I won't darken your door any further. [ The demon spreads his hands with a shrug, even though he knows this conversation has met its untimely end. Oh well, beating a dead horse wasn't getting him anywhere before Barnaby finally chose to give him a cold shoulder. Obviously, he's only wasting his breath here. Shame.
With only Barnaby's back to send him off, J turns around on pawed feet to make his slow traipse to more welcoming company. Well, as friendly as Makoto might feel after burning holes into the side of his head with a lingering glare for the duration of his chitchat. He does pause after that initial step away to turn his head, eyeing Barnaby from his peripheral so that he might offer him the consolation of a more appropriate farewell. ] See you, Barnaby.
[ And with that, J finally departs from Barnaby's company for good. Strolling with hands tucked behind his back and tail swishing side to side, J wanders off across the illusionary courtroom. ]