[ The giggling chases after his words as he walks into the clearing. He is battered, bleeding, bruised. All the best b-words that a person could possibly be. Lifting his hand up, he ran his fingertips over a deep gash over his cheek -- smearing the blood over pale skin. ]
This Mitsuhide had thought you were calling someone else. But it seems as though you really meant to call me. [ In his hand, he holds his cellphone. The screen covered in red. He clenches his fingers, tightening his grip, as the phone breaks in his hand. The shattered pieces cut deep but he tosses it to the side without care. ]
I wanted to taste what it was like to experience some of the traps you made. Not bad, not bad. There's little malice in them, however, but they are quite clever and put together with a careful and thoughtful hand. If you had more viciousness within you, they may have... [ He starts laughing harder before reaching behind his back. A burst of black smoke erupts in the space behind him as he pulls out one of his scythes.
Running his fingers along the flat side of the blade, he muses aloud: ] What is it that your face wishes to say to this one?
no subject
[ The giggling chases after his words as he walks into the clearing. He is battered, bleeding, bruised. All the best b-words that a person could possibly be. Lifting his hand up, he ran his fingertips over a deep gash over his cheek -- smearing the blood over pale skin. ]
This Mitsuhide had thought you were calling someone else. But it seems as though you really meant to call me. [ In his hand, he holds his cellphone. The screen covered in red. He clenches his fingers, tightening his grip, as the phone breaks in his hand. The shattered pieces cut deep but he tosses it to the side without care. ]
I wanted to taste what it was like to experience some of the traps you made. Not bad, not bad. There's little malice in them, however, but they are quite clever and put together with a careful and thoughtful hand. If you had more viciousness within you, they may have... [ He starts laughing harder before reaching behind his back. A burst of black smoke erupts in the space behind him as he pulls out one of his scythes.
Running his fingers along the flat side of the blade, he muses aloud: ] What is it that your face wishes to say to this one?