[Dazai himself has been around to look at the cracks — they seem suspiciously out of place with what is going on around this endless night that it felt like a separate issue entirely. Of course, he’s just there to observe, not to interact: who knows what would happen if he ever touched one of those, considering his nullification abilities? It could end up with something painful, and he’s not stupid enough to stick his hand into something dangerous.
Which is why he would observe someone who is stupid enough to stick their hand into the crack, of course!
It’s why he didn’t yell at the white-haired man that whatever he’s trying isn’t a good idea. No, he was perfectly content in his comfortable corner away from sight, waiting to see the fruit of this man’s foolhardly actions.
Well, whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t that. Brown eyes widen at the grotesque sight, inky ichor pouring out from his wound. If that was blood, there’s no way a normal human would have survived.
The poor guy’s state of distress is a clear indication that this situation is out of his hands — pun unintended. And that would be his cue to step in, if his guess on this berserk wriggling thing is correct.
The moment he steps into view, the dark limb immediately darts straight towards him. Two things could have happened here: either Dazai nullifies it with his touch, or he gets tackled off or something worse by the evil arm-thing for his troubles. Thankfully his guess is correct: the moment it touches his hand, the dark appendage disappears in a flash of white light.
Not that it would last long, though. The limb is always free to take shape once more as long as there’s no physical contact between them. Despite the dire situation, Dazai greets mister grumpy with a wave and a smile.]
‘Sup. Any explanation to why your ex-right arm is now some kind of out of control creature?
2!
Which is why he would observe someone who is stupid enough to stick their hand into the crack, of course!
It’s why he didn’t yell at the white-haired man that whatever he’s trying isn’t a good idea. No, he was perfectly content in his comfortable corner away from sight, waiting to see the fruit of this man’s foolhardly actions.
Well, whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t that. Brown eyes widen at the grotesque sight, inky ichor pouring out from his wound. If that was blood, there’s no way a normal human would have survived.
The poor guy’s state of distress is a clear indication that this situation is out of his hands — pun unintended. And that would be his cue to step in, if his guess on this berserk wriggling thing is correct.
The moment he steps into view, the dark limb immediately darts straight towards him. Two things could have happened here: either Dazai nullifies it with his touch, or he gets tackled off or something worse by the evil arm-thing for his troubles. Thankfully his guess is correct: the moment it touches his hand, the dark appendage disappears in a flash of white light.
Not that it would last long, though. The limb is always free to take shape once more as long as there’s no physical contact between them. Despite the dire situation, Dazai greets mister grumpy with a wave and a smile.]
‘Sup. Any explanation to why your ex-right arm is now some kind of out of control creature?