[IS THE FIRST THING HE SAYS, after his very obvious attempts at reorienting himself after the memory ends... He's already been through it several times at this point; some are harder to disentangle himself from than others. Some have wider, brighter, more foreign feelings that sit with him like a hot coal until he's able to return to himself properly. Even those with milder emotions jar him. It's unpleasant, to say the least, being forced into a perspective and memory and life that doesn't belong to you.
But after the initial unpleasantness, he does tend to enjoy the aftermath. To be able to understand the people around you is to understand yourself better, too. Mahito is always voraciously hungry for more, anyway - more knowledge, more information, more funky lore about mass-murdering nonhumans with some wildass perspectives.
He pinches the bridge of his nose, like someone trying to relieve a pressure headache...]
Having that kind of perspective probably doesn't make you an easy friend to a lot of people, huh?
Nope. [An immediate response to the question...] But you don't really seem like the kinda person that'd be troubled by a lot of things to begin with.
[He seems to consider something then, mentally chewing over their last statement before he eventually nods.]
I can kind of get it, I think? Kind of... Playing nice isn't always fun or worth the effort.
[But he is, strangely and funkily, a naturally genial entity who doesn't have to put forth effort into getting along with people. Until he starts murdering them.]
[SAYS THE CURSE, though he says it in a way that implies he does not actually care at all about its harshness and is just gently teasing.]
Where do we fall on that scale? Flies hanging out by your fruitbowl for a while that you just kinda have to deal with, 'cuz you can't leave the kitchen?
[Even if it were serious, "fly hanging out by the fruitbowl" is still a more generous opinion than "actual plague upon humanity". He can vibe with it, but he can vibe with just about anything, damn.]
How long have you been stuck in the kitchen, anyway? Not that I'm expecting a straight answer or anything, but it sounds like it's been a looong time. Your fruitbowl's probably had a lot of flies, huh?
Rarely. [THE LUCKY? UNLUCKY?? ONES... that stick around... There's a little, light huff of laughter.] I guess there are exceptions for all of us, in most things.
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[IS THE FIRST THING HE SAYS, after his very obvious attempts at reorienting himself after the memory ends... He's already been through it several times at this point; some are harder to disentangle himself from than others. Some have wider, brighter, more foreign feelings that sit with him like a hot coal until he's able to return to himself properly. Even those with milder emotions jar him. It's unpleasant, to say the least, being forced into a perspective and memory and life that doesn't belong to you.
But after the initial unpleasantness, he does tend to enjoy the aftermath. To be able to understand the people around you is to understand yourself better, too. Mahito is always voraciously hungry for more, anyway - more knowledge, more information, more funky lore about mass-murdering nonhumans with some wildass perspectives.
He pinches the bridge of his nose, like someone trying to relieve a pressure headache...]
Having that kind of perspective probably doesn't make you an easy friend to a lot of people, huh?
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[they sound almost amused, at that, despite having a part of themselves shared that way.]
I could be easy enough to get along with, should I choose to be-- but the majority of the time, it is neither a necessity nor worth the effort.
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[He seems to consider something then, mentally chewing over their last statement before he eventually nods.]
I can kind of get it, I think? Kind of... Playing nice isn't always fun or worth the effort.
[But he is, strangely and funkily, a naturally genial entity who doesn't have to put forth effort into getting along with people. Until he starts murdering them.]
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[you won't get much out of it, and you're going to swat it eventually.]
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[SAYS THE CURSE, though he says it in a way that implies he does not actually care at all about its harshness and is just gently teasing.]
Where do we fall on that scale? Flies hanging out by your fruitbowl for a while that you just kinda have to deal with, 'cuz you can't leave the kitchen?
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[they say that almost flippantly. it might or might not be serious?]
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How long have you been stuck in the kitchen, anyway? Not that I'm expecting a straight answer or anything, but it sounds like it's been a looong time. Your fruitbowl's probably had a lot of flies, huh?
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