Event Private Gift Giving Pride

"Mostly the novels," Jackal admitted. He'd seen Grovefire, but only in passing. In truth, he wasn't really as up to date on demon things as he probably should have been. A part of Jackal didn't really consider himself a demon at all, even if the average person would have inevitably considered him one. He felt like something else, something distinct and unique, and he simply couldn't comisserate with the experience of the average demon.

For one, holy items held no power over him.

"Place I work at does real Russian food. The kind cooked by an old Russian grandmother from old family recipes. They did a whole thing of treats for the holidays, thought it'd be a nice little addition to the book. Everyone likes snacks, right?"

Well, not everyone, and Jackal hesitated after a second, squinting in his direction. "...Assuming you're not purely carnivorous or anything like that." Or a soul eater. Or an energy sucker. There were a lot of weird diets on Manta Carlos, and Jackal was perpetually exhausted from trying to keep track of them all. Maybe food wasn't-

And then, of course, Jackal realized they had met at a restaurant, and he was totally going to be fine.

Considering that the restaurant Jackal worked at was, in fact, a front for the Russian mob... well, Colten's worries weren't exactly unwarranted. Of course they were completely innocent treats, but the idea was there just the same: that there was danger that should be investigated if at all possible.

Jackal wasn't at all bothered that Colten wasn't snacking on it right then, because they were supposed to be eating dinner. Instead, he turned his attention to the last of the gifts, carefully working to unwrap the paper. The whole thing seemed like it was very precise: like if he tore into it, it was liable to fall apart, and as he removed bit by bit of the paper his theory was proven more and more right.

His first impression was that it was a weapon rack, but the more he revealed the more obvious it was that it was anything but.

"A..." Jackal paused, taking in the creation and trying to put a word to it. "Statue?" He couldn't tell if the daggers could be removed or not, and he felt immediately wary of touching it at all, lest the whole thing collapse at the first touch.

Malara would definitely love the sculpture, to say the least. His current roommate? Probably not so much. He'd have to ask if she would store it for him, but he couldn't imagine she'd say no. Even if she did technically have kids around... well, there were plenty of places that Dalia wasn't supposed to go, for example.

So Jackal reached out and carefully set the statue to the side. He could think about it (and focus on it) later. Right then, the meal they were about to eat seemed a great deal more interesting. Jackal had found a hard time making new friends on the island, at least among adults, and this was as good a time as any to try.

"I'm curious what made you go into writing," Jackal said, because his work seemed like as good an example as any to start a conversation about. People liked talking about themselves in general terms, but a pride demon? Even more so.

"Well, when you put it that way it seems perfectly sensible." The spark of creation indeed. "You sound like a conductor for the orchestra of the human mind or something like that."

Jackal wasn't half as eloquent as Colten was, and he wasn't even particularly trying. He simply didn't see the point, considering he'd be beaten at all possible sides.

"For that matter, you make it sound like the perfect way to compel people to sin. Or--sorry, are you one of those kinds? I'm not really familiar with the different branches of demon at this point."

Probably a faux pas to talk about it at all, really.

Well, he didn't take too much offense, so that was nice. Jackal wasn't exactly the most polite of people, even if he didn't go out of his way to be rude. It came from a millennia of not having to think about what he was saying, and the relatively short time he'd spent on the island was trying to balance that.

"My work," Jackal said without even thinking, and then reconsidered his answer. "The changes I've made in my life. Being on the island at all meant changing almost everything about who I was, so everything I am here is... newly established. Experimental. Someone told me once that eighty percent of people never really leave their home town, and in that case I'm not even the twenty percent that do. I'm like... the zero point one percent who move to another dimension, start a new life, get a bangin' girlfriend..."

Oh yeah, he had a lot to be proud of. "Probably sounds arrogant when I say it that way, but it's not like it was an easy transition or anything."