applenet | COUNTDOWN: PUTTING THE M IN MORALITY 3.0

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COUNTDOWN: PUTTING THE M IN MORALITY 3.0

Did someone contact you during your dreams? Perhaps you were lucky and a few images of your past lives were revealed to you. Then maybe when your phone begins to act strange, you aren't as surprised. Maybe there's a feeling that you've seen this before... could it be a case of deja-vu?

You could all say it started with a strange icon that popped up on your phone that day. September 9th, 2017, a mysterious icon begins your decent into a different world.

Did you press it right away out of curiosity? Did you press it accidentally trying to dismiss it? Or did you wait long enough for it to cover your entire screen, forcing you to interact with it? Either way, congratulations! You've got...a Terms of Service popping up in front of you?

Terms and Conditions ("Terms")
Last updated: September 9th, 2017

Please read these Terms and Conditions ("Terms", "Terms and Conditions") carefully before using the http:/www.applenet.net website (the "Service") operated by AppleNET ("us", "we", "our", "horse", "goat", "sheep", "apple", "shapple" "etc.").

Your access to and use of the Service is predicated on your acceptance of and compliance with these Terms.

By accessing or using the Service you agree to be bound by these Terms and agree to be part of The Team. If you disagree with any part of the terms then that's too bad. You already agreed to them by reading this far. Don't worry, you're not alone in this! In fact, you've probably had a little bit of a warning, right? Your friends warned you in dreams? Hopefully they did cause otherwise, SURPRISE!

AppleNET has no control over and assumes no responsibility for content posted or user privacy. You further acknowledge and agree that AppleNET and its affiliates shall not be responsible or liable, directly or indirectly, for any damage or loss caused or alleged to be caused by or in connection with use of or reliance on any such content, goods, death, night shifts, or services available on or through any such web sites or services.

Governing Law
These Terms shall be governed and construed in accordance the laws, by which we mean with little regard to its conflict with any laws. Are you still even reading this? I bet no one really reads this. PS for all apple pie needs, please contact Luci at Luci@applenet.com

Changes
We reserve the right, at our sole discretion, to modify or replace these Terms at any time. If a revision is material we will try to provide at least 0 days notice prior to any new terms taking effect. What constitutes a material change will be solely determined at our discretion.

By continuing to access or use our Service after those revisions become effective, you agree to be bound by the revised terms. You don't have much choice cause it's time to start fighting back! You can do it! Or at least it will be interesting to see...

Contact Us
If you have any questions about these Terms, please contact us.

You quickly notice there is no contact number or address. Uhh---

DO YOU AGREE TO THESE TERMS?
Yes | Hell Yes | Man I Can'T Wait to See What this is About! | APPLES!
It really seems like you don't have much choice. After pressing one of the four buttons (one of them trailing off to the side of the screen), a new screen greets you.

21 DAYS REMAIN BEFORE FULLY AWAKENING

Hey! Welcome to your new half life. Something like that. I'm Luci! You don't know who I am, but I know who you are. Freaky huh? But that's okay, cause you got a few of your friends coming in too. Anyway, answer these questions, we're gonna have a fun time talking about them, I'm not being all fancy this time, got it? Don't worry if the answer sounds 'bad'. After all, you're gonna be working with the rest of us! What's the worst that could happen?

I mean, bad things could happen. But that's why there's other people to help you! CHECK IT OUT GUYS I DID A FRIENDSHIP THING. PS - If you see something from a guy called "Guts", he can be really mean sometimes, so be careful!!!

Are they... acting like they’ve just hired you for a new job? (And really being impolite too. Who is this Guts guy?)

The first (and only) question for today is:

Would you kill a man/woman?

1) Yes! That sounds fun.

2) Yes, but only because they killed someone I loved.

3) Yes, but only out of self-defence.

4) This question is confusing me because I am unable to reach a proper conclusion.

5) No! That's so wrong!

6) No, but mostly because no one should know about my dark secrets.

7) No, I'm too pure.

8) No, but I'd pay someone else to do it. Guilt free, AND smart!

As you go to pick out an option... or try to exit out of it... you witness an all-too brief memory of a life you think isn't yours. A flash that makes you think you were hallucinating... or maybe something you've seen before in your mind. Your head hurts, your heartbeat increases dramatically, and you can barely see anything ahead of you...

Wait, did you already pick something? You don't remember touching the screen, but something's already been highlighted and pressed for you. Staring at the 'saving' prompt, you will later find out it was a deeper memory from your heart. It might terrify you, what you've picked.

After that, the program displays nothing else for a few seconds before a chatroom (appleNET chat v.301.02) boots up, with a username already attached to your account and a little icon, either a sword or a ship steering wheel, next to it. More worryingly, your answer is the first thing posted from your name. Not even a hi or hello.

Well good thing no one has any idea who you are... right?

But don't worry... this time you're not quite alone.

[OOC: The memory should only last for a few seconds, but it would be something significant that would surprise them. It could even be related to this question!

All mentions of their profession or other clues that might reveal who they are will be changed to [INFORMATION LOCKED]. However, due to the dream memories, their usernames will be a combination of the demon you chose for their Persona and their REAL name (not their AU one).

FOR PLAYERS ALREADY IN THE GAME: Your character now has their REAL name and their demon name. Additionally, NOTHING GETS CENSORED WHEN YOUR CHARACTER SPEAKS.

For the new players, have fun!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I suppose I will.

[Had he accepted the challenge? It sure seemed like it.

Vincent's education was none of his concern...but the other boy was one of the few people he seemed capable of tolerating, even despite his penchant for violence. Or maybe because of it. After all, that was something he understood.

They were of a similar spirit. It wasn't strange to want someone like that around.

Was it...?

About a block from the train station, Kit's meditation was interrupted by a loud guffaw from behind Vincent and him.

"Look who it is, guys..." The owner's voice was heavy and deep, but the unmistakable lisp suggested he was missing more than a few of his teeth. Even without looking, Kit knew who it was because he was the one responsible for knocking those teeth out. This wasn't good. And it was worse the moment he looked over his shoulder and confirmed Kurt wasn't alone.]

...you should go ahead. I'll deal with them.

[Somehow. With hands still badly damaged from his previous fight with the smaller boy, and with a large burn covering the majority of his chest. He'd...be fine.]

[the chimera coffee was finished somewhere along their walk and dutifully disposed of at the next trash can they passed. Vincent wasn't keen on having it pointed out, and was about to speak up on the matter when another voice interrupted before he could even start.

...hm. it wasn't surprising that Kit's past acquaintances would cross paths with him here. Hagu was a pit, after all. but as he turns around to face the interlopers properly, the other boy's attempt to run him off earns an amused snort.]

As if I'd let you cheat me out of another fight.

[as if it were entirely Kit's fault that he was too damaged to brawl the way they had previously only a few days later.

the remainder of his croissant is gently tossed back into its bag, which is placed safely out of the way on the stoop of a nearby establishment. straightening up again]

It's just picking up garbage, anyway. Not like any other people are here.

[his posture is equal parts aggravatingly casual and ready for a clash. everything about his stance was just daring these idiots to start something. give him an excuse. come on.]

Somehow, I'm not surprised by that answer.

[The ragtag group of four spread out before them, Kurt standing front and center, a young-looking teen wearing a bandanna nearest to the wall, and two burly middle-aged muscle heads circling around on the sidewalk to close in Vincent and Kit. The older of the beefy masses of muscle cracked his knuckles, his wraparound sunglasses reflecting his prey, while the younger of the pair dug a switchblade out of his pocket and flashed them both a nasty smile.

Tossing his belongings onto the stoop next to Vincent's bag of bagels, Kit positioned himself neatly at the smaller boy's back.

"Can you believe this?" asked Shades. "They think they stand a chance."

Switchblade just chuckled, and while Bandanna didn't seem to know what to make of the whole ordeal, he was still willing to be obedient.

Kurt clicked his tongue at them and slurred out a few more words.

"I owe you one, Kit. So I'm gonna mangle that pretty face. And your boyfriend's, too." He waggled a hand for Vincent to see, knuckles decorated with brass.]

I'm already late, Kurt. I'm afraid I just don't have time for this.

[Those words were like a gunshot spurring everyone into motion, all four of their assailants closing in at once, fists and feet flying, brass knuckles hammering down and switchblade slicing through the air...]

[if ever there was a wrong thing to say before engaging in a fight, Kurt had struck upon it on his first try. Vincent's face contorts into an expression so hateful that it's a wonder he doesn't strike the entire group dead from the force. it was going to be exceedingly difficult to control himself, so he discards the possibility of even trying.

it's pretty even odds, all things considered. two of them meant two each, easily manageable given the poor talent staring them down. much as he'd like to rip their leader apart for his unconscionable comment, there was history between him and Kit. the blade for him, then, and a meathead each. fine.

normal people might communicate some of this to their partner, especially one they'd never fought alongside before. but for whatever reason Vincent feels so strongly that his companion will just know the plan that he makes no attempt to speak at all, mind already rushing through possible strategies instead.

when all hell breaks loose, he can practically feel his blood on fire. dashing forward, he met Switchblade's attack head on, using his speed and slight stature to surprise the other boy and grab hold of his arm. rather than force him to relinquish the knife, however, he picks up both of their speed - ramming the blade right into the meathead who'd been charging in behind him. the screaming is musical.]

[Shades screamed, alright. But the one whose voice rang out the loudest was Switchblade's own. His little knife dug into his partner, but the sheer bulk of the older boy and his anger-induced adrenaline allowed him to fight through the pain and knock his partner away with the back of his hand. Teeth sprayed the concrete. There wasn't real loyalty between these cretins...and now Shades had it out for Vincent.

Large sausage-like fingers snagged the smaller boy by the hair and wrenched him unkindly toward the wall. It seemed he wasn't done crushing faces.

Meanwhile, Kit had his hands full dodging around Kurt's brassy fist. Bandanna hadn't made a move to attack yet, and every time Kit found his opponent driving the quiet boy into his blind spot, he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. When would he join the fight? How would he choose to come at him? Would it be with a weapon or his bare hands?

The answer came in the form of the boy's bandanna suddenly sliding around his neck and tightening, a trap that slowed him down just long enough for Kurt's fist to cut across his face in a mean right hook...]

[no honor among thieves, it seemed. Vincent has just enough time to be amused at the thought before he finds himself slammed painfully against the wall. he's far more aggravated by his inability to dodge such a simple reaction rather than the oncoming danger - at least until he spies how the rest of the fight is going around Shades' prodigious bulk.

it wasn't much of a tag team if he allowed his partner to go down so early in the brawl, would it? and the idea of Kit owing him once again was certainly an alluring one.

those are the excuses that he'd come up with later. in the heat of the moment the only thought that crosses his mind was that there was absolutely no way anyone so disgustingly untalented was allowed to lay a hand on the other boy. he reacts almost instantly, using the way Shades is holding him above the ground to his advantage; with the wall as a brace he's able to give an extremely violent double kick right into his opponent's midsection. it knocks the breath out of him and - more importantly - sends him careening backwards towards Bandana.

it's absolutely worth hitting the ground as hard as Vincent does.]

[Vincent's quick and brutal timing sent Shades bulldozing painfully into Bandanna. The smaller boy hit the cement like a lead weight, groaning as his namesake fell free from around Kit's neck and to the ground. He wouldn't be getting back up again too soon, but Kurt was still standing and worse, despite the power in all of Vincent's stout but stacked frame, Shades hadn't fallen.

As if sensing the opportunity to pincer Kit between them, Kurt took another swing and Shades' arms flew forward to encircle him from behind. But after having fallen for that trick once already, Kit was prepared. He dropped between them at the last second and, despite the painful way his lungs were still burning, he managed to kick his leg out at the last second and unsteady the larger of the two brainless idiots.

A disgruntled sort of growl escaped Shades, but the sound was cut short by Kurt's fist slamming into his ribs with a violent crack, made all the worse by the larger man's weight falling atop those brass knuckles. And, unable to support the sudden collapsing weight of his comrade, both Kurt and Shades fell to the sidewalk.

Their pathetic descent was hardly worth watching, however. Already Kit's attention had migrated back to Vincent whom he'd seen fall earlier...and whose actions had saved him.]

[worrywart. although the same could be said for Vincent, who'd spent the entire time after pulling himself upright watching the fight unfold rather than even attempting to inspect his own battle wounds. there wouldn't have been time for him to intervene if things went south - but to be perfectly honest, he hadn't for a moment doubted that Kit would come out on top.

he doesn't dwell on that thought for long.

instead he shoves his hands into his pockets as if to disguise the way he'd been staring, gaze dropping down to look at their fallen adversaries. the urge to spit on a few of them and add insult to injury is strong, but he refrains for the moment.]

Idiots.

[four against two, and they'd still managed to squander their advantages. they deserved this and more.]

[A strange feeling of relief surged through Kit when he saw the other boy rise with little difficulty, spitting insults like an angry viper. It meant he was well and that whatever damage their attackers had managed to deal him, it was nothing he couldn't shake off. Truly, he was a formidable opponent. It was no wonder the times they'd fought he'd had such a hard time himself.]

I had hoped Kurt had learned his lesson before, but it seems I gave him too much credit.

[Stepping over the collapsed forms on the ground and returning to the stoop they'd left their belongings on, Kit bent down to collect his jacket and and the bag of bagels. However, when blood spotted the concrete, he realized Kurt's fist had done a little more damage to his face than he'd realized. There was a gash across his left cheek and while it wasn't especially deep, it was bleeding quite freely.

He handed off the bagels to Vincent to keep the bag from getting stained, using his free hand then to hold the open wound.]

We should go.

[his ribs were going to be sore as hell after this, likely bruised pretty heavily, but it was indeed nothing that he couldn't shrug off derisively. as if he'd let some petty thugs like this keep him down for even a moment.]

Your mistake. His skull's obviously too thick to understand anything.

[Vincent takes the bag of breakfast items easily, although his sharp eyes linger on Kit more than anywhere else. it was impossible to say why, but he wanted to be absolutely sure that wound was nothing more than a superficial slash. satisfied that it was exactly that - nothing - he turns away to crouch down by their fallen foes.]

Just a minute.

[is he..? he is. Vincent was rifling through their pockets, neatly picking out anything that looked like it could be of any worth. what an asshole.]

It isn't a mistake I will make again.

[Or so he said, but leaving the idiot alive meant he'd be back again someday. For however brutal Kit had been in the past, he couldn't bring himself to kill these fools...though perhaps that might have changed if his companion and him had truly been in real danger.

It's a strange thought, that. Though not as strange as it could be, he supposed. He knew who Vincent was truly meant to be. Partners like that would kill for each other whatever their differences.]

Take your time.

[Kit didn't think Vincent's thievery was too awful. If anything, he'd earned the right to take what he wanted from those who had attacked him and failed to defeat him. If they couldn't protect themselves or their belongings, then they didn't really deserve to have them. It was that simple.

And it was a little endearing, too.

Though he made no attempt to collect anything for himself. He didn't desire any trophies from people like them.]

Damn well better not. I'm not going to babysit a second time.

[it's easier for a comment like that to be taken at face value when he's crouched down and facing away from Kit. he had no desire to be relied upon, but at the same time he knew deep within his heart that there wasn't a brawl he wouldn't jump into if it meant being at the other boy's side. when had that happened?

he doesn't dwell on it long. his nimble pilfering more than occupies his mind, running rudimentary calculations on various trinkets as he systematically empties their wallets straight into the bagel bag. he saves Kurt for last, out of some mocking respect of his being the leader of this sorry gang; at the end of his shakedown he pauses, gaze lingering on the fallen boy's brass knuckles.

these Vincent really didn't need. they weren't worth all that much, and he himself didn't fight with such crude tools. but it made for such an appealing trophy that he found himself tugging them off all the same despite not being particularly inclined to do so on the regular. maybe he could mount them over the apartment doorway.

Kit's blood is still splattered across the metal where it had made a connection with his face. before he can even think he's dipping his head, tongue snaking out to get a taste.

...he was going to blame Hiei for that. without any indication of his previous action he drops the knuckles into the bag and stands once more, stopping only to retrieve the rest of his coffee from the stoop.]

You might as well not bother going to classes at this point.

[Did he just...?

It was difficult to tell from where he was standing, but Kit could have sworn that he saw Vincent lift the brass knuckles off Kurt's hand and proceed to swipe his tongue over the red that spotted them. That couldn't be right, could it? But there was no other explanation.

The way that made him feel was difficult to describe. Nauseated and panicked. Yet also unable to look away.

He was grateful for when Vincent finally moved and he found himself snapped out of his stupor. As his companion joined him again, he quickly put the slowly stirring apes on the concrete behind them, but not as quickly as he attempted to cast away his previous and very uncomfortable train of thoughts, however. If he didn't think about the other boy lapping at his blood, he wouldn't have a chance to be bothered by it. In theory, at least. But in reality, with the warmth still running down his cheek, it was virtually all Kit could think about...]

You might be right about that, but...

[What would he do if he didn't go to class? Stay in his dorm all day? The idea didn't sound very appealing, even if he could wisely spend that time tending to his plants or reading.]

But what? Someone going to check up on you?

[he's teasing, of course. they both probably knew at this point that there really wasn't anyone who could keep Kit on a tight leash unless he wanted them to.

the rest of his croissant sounded tempting after all of that exertion, but Vincent refrains. there was still the taste of copper in his mouth, and he wanted to run his tongue across his teeth and soak all of it up before it completely dissipated. it wasn't something he'd do if he knew that he'd been caught in the act, for certain.]

No, it isn't that.

[Kit glanced at him and...

For goodness sake, Vincent! Stop. That.]

I didn't plan for this.

[And now that things had gotten so far out of hand that even an attempt to save his schedule was out of the question, it seemed Kit didn't really know what to do.

Well, besides put a shirt on. Much as the cool morning air was helping the burns more than stinging them, his skin was still spotted with coffee from Vincent's earlier assault. Whether or not he went to class, he needed to clean up and put on a fresh pair of clothes. Which would mean an inevitable trip back to the dorm, but not before it meant an uncomfortable train ride back to campus.]

[make him??? or make him aware he's been seen, that ought to lock things up pretty quickly.]

Shocking.

[Kit Florentine, without a backup plan to deal with every infinite possibility in the universe? truly the world must be coming to and end. at least Vincent seems to be getting a great deal of amusement out of his companion's distress, if the smug look he shoots his way is any indication.

the fact that most of this was probably his fault helps a great deal, too.]

Be quiet.

[With a glance back over his shoulder at their four downed adversaries, Kit considered his options. Kurt and his band of idiots would likely leave them alone for today at the very least, making it much less dangerous to hang around Hagu for a little while. And if he was with Vincent...

He frowned at that thought. He wasn't in prime condition, but he didn't need protecting. Even if he did appreciate the way Vincent hadn't hesitated to have his back, he could have taken care of those four on his own. Albeit coming out much worse for wear than he had.

In any case, the former thought was presuming that Vincent would even remain with him, and he had no reason to bank on that...did he?]

Do you know a good place around here to shop for clothes?

Or what, you'll bleed on me?

[the fight had done wonders for Vincent's mood, it seems. he still looks like an angry spring ready to uncoil right in someone's face, but there's a distinct air of contentment to him as he continues stomping on Kit's bruised ego as much as he pleases.

the following question even elicits a small chuckle from him, albeit not particularly kind. it's mostly due to the images such a request had conjured up.]

Not in your style, no.

[but if you want some punk shit he can probably hook you up if you ask nice.]

Maybe.

[Turning his attention back to his companion, Kit peeled his hand off his cheek and held it out for Vincent to see the bright red scarlet streak that was spread across his palm. The gash across his face wasn't deep, but it had bled enough, as head injuries tended to do, and it would probably continue to be a problem until he was able to properly dress it.]

Anything black is fine.

[It was obvious that his usual preference for plaid and pastels simply would not do in his current state. And since black wouldn't show blood...it looked like he was more than a little willing to trust the other boy's fashion advice.]

[he shouldn't do it. he absolutely should not push his limits after skating so close to the edge already. but as Kit holds his bloody hand out for the sole purpose of sassing him, once again Vincent finds his inability to ignore a challenge overpowering his common sense.

so he takes the offered hand gently in his own, inspecting it for a brief moment...before leaning forward ever so slightly and sponging away the blood with his tongue. his eyes remain locked on the other boy the entire time, daring him to make even the smallest sound of protest.

and then, just like that, it's over. Vincent's straightening up as if nothing had ever happened, continuing to hold his companion's hand just long enough to tug him into a turn as he alters their course for the nearest clothing shop he frequented.]

Keep up, then.

[Was it that his heart skipped a beat, or that it simply started beating too fast for him to register? Kit wasn't certain. He knew only that, as Vincent's tongue darted across his palm and he had all the proof he needed of his earlier observation, that he didn't dare move. Didn't dare speak. And didn't dare breathe.

Not until his hand was released again and Vincent was leading the way.

And even then his pulse didn't stop racing. He felt dizzy. Like he might throw up or worse, like he wanted Vincent to do that again. And it took everything he had to keep from staring down at his hand where he could still feel the fresh damp track that Vincent's tongue had left. Took all he had to breathe in deeply and exhale slow. To find his center and ground himself and focus on the task at...on what he needed to do.

He fell into step beside the shorter boy, refusing to look at him but well aware of him at his side. Too aware even.]

[the silence is more than welcome as Vincent's brain catches up with his goddamn overblown ego while the pair of them eat up the concrete on their journey.

what the hell was that? why the fuck did he think that was a sane, rational course of action to take? indulging in a bizarre curiosity had been fine when it remained a private action, but even his Satanic persona couldn't explain away whatever emotions the second time had been charged with. those thugs must have rammed him against the wall harder than he'd initially realized, because clearly some brain damage had taken place.

worst of all...it really was a sweet taste. even as he internally berates himself, Vincent finds that he's been absently sucking on his cheek and relishing the flavor the entire time. it's a little repulsive, the realization that he wouldn't mind getting a deeper bite sometime.

his hand brushes Kit as he moves to shove it into his pocket, and it takes every muscle in his body to keep from leaping straight into the air.

thankfully the store isn't far off by the time he makes that little slip. speeding up to carry himself away from the other boy and his own embarrassment, Vincent wrenches the door open without even checking to see if it was open. he doubted there'd even been a lock on this door.

the interior is small, dingy, and likely selling drugs out of the back room on weekends, but the products themselves appear to be in fine shape. aside from the death metal blaring at an unreasonable volume for so early in the morning, it seemed an almost pleasant place to shop - and certainly what one would picture whenever they imagined where Vincent bought all his chains.]

[Vincent wasn't the only one who felt electrified by the sudden brushing of their hands, and only Kit's fierce concentration kept him from leaping out of his own skin. It was nothing. It meant nothing. Such brief contact was purely accidental.

And yet...

Following the way Vincent had sampled his blood not once, but twice, Kit could scarcely help thinking that maybe the gesture had been a little bit deliberate.

Luckily for them both, the little clothing shop not only proved to be nearby, but a perfect distraction as well. The music that assaulted them as soon as the front door was opened and they stepped inside was unlike any Kit was used to and he very nearly recoiled at the sound laying siege to his ears. The lack of natural light was also rather alarming, as was the sheer volume of unusual looking articles of clothing on display.

It was the perfect excuse to put some distance between him and his companion, to peruse the merchandise and not have to worry about coming into contact with Vincent again and feeling like he might spontaneously combust. Except, still sporting blood on his hand and cheek, handling any of the clothes on his own was difficult, making most of his browsing by sight alone. Currently, he seemed the most interested in the long black hoodies on display, arguably boring compared to what he usually wore...but capable of concealing his mess of scars and burns.

Probably, though, it didn't really matter what he picked. It all looked the same to him, anyway.]

A sweater should suffice, right?

[even if they hadn't chosen to make things extremely awkward between each other, it's highly likely that Vincent would have wandered away at some point regardless. this is one of his favorite places to shop, and he could never resist doing a little browsing.

eventually however the same thought plaguing Kit occurs to him, and he reluctantly cycles back around to find his erstwhile compatriot. he's got some indescribable article of clothing tucked under his arm, something with far too many hooks and rivets to be remotely comfortable. he stares at the display the other teen is eying for a moment before giving him a flat stare over the question.]

Like I know how damn cold you get.

[and as if it were his problem anyway. but, even so...it's inhumanly depressing to be in one of the most varied clothing stores he knows of and watch his companion home in on the most boring items possible. if he let Kit get any of these it would be an affront to his reputation.

amateur.

with a loud, extremely put-upon sigh, Vincent disappears around the other side of the display. he honestly doesn't know why he expected to not have to lead the other boy around by the nose with this kind of thing, but here they were all the same. he might possess an uncommon level of trivial knowledge, but he was a complete imbecile when it came to niche fashion.

after a few moments he returns, a hoodie slung over his shoulder in what he's 99% certain is Kit's size. when he'd been around the other boy long enough to discern his body proportions he doesn't know, but it's helpful in the current situation.]

There, now you can stop embarrassing yourself.

White foxes...did you know they're my favorite?

[Kit didn't think his own tastes were so bad, they were simply more varied in color than what could be found in any gothic or metal-themed outlet. Excepting anywhere that sold pastel goth, he supposed. On that note, the sweater Vincent returned with was perfect, and Kit's expression even said so! But he couldn't help thinking he would have liked it better in a vibrant fuchsia or even a bold navy blue...

It didn't matter, of course. He wasn't looking for color today. Black was precisely what he needed and Vincent had...well, he'd helped Kit find precisely what he needed without his even asking. That was actually nice of him.

Curiously nice, even. And a touch worrying after the incident that had taken place prior to their entering the store. Was Vincent feeling alright? He had hit his head pretty hard...and then there'd been the way he'd fallen after kicking Shades into Bandanna, too. Kit was the one bleeding, but the one who'd taken worse damage was his companion. Such that, without even realizing it, he'd wandered a little closer to Vincent, hand reaching out to the fanned hair across his forehead as if to inspect beneath.]

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