[As far as Hayame was concerned, she was invited to sit where she was right now, as much as she's almost starting to regret it more than she is enjoying the meal. And since he was the one who'd had the right to refuse her and then had not... He is the one who should be gracious about the guest he ought to have known.
And no matter how calm and tired he's acting... Hayame has enough fire for the both of them. For three of them, or four. Nothing honorable about killing? If there wasn't honor to be found in one's actions, if there wasn't things that were dishonorable to govern actions in combat...]
Spoken like a brute instead of a warrior. Don't confuse honor with something else.
[Hayame didn't enjoy killing. Beyond surges of satisfaction that came from revenge, which were different... Killing was necessary, it had a purpose, but it wasn't fun and it wasn't glorious, even when it was honorable. She had striven to live her life honorably since the moment she knew that the path of the warrior was the only one that would lead her away from the fate of a broodmare or an Armless, and even though she'd been shaken... She can't let go of it. If she didn't have it-
She'd have nothing. Hayame actually opens her mouth to continue to pontificate on the nature of honor, but then-
Then he says that. He's said similar things in the heat of battle, she remembered a comment or two that seemed designed to shame her or remind her of her gender, but this time... They aren't in the middle of a war. They're at a restaurant. There is no bow in her hand, just chopsticks. A moment after the word "smitten" registers her face grows flush with something like anger, something like embarrassment, and even though a part of her knows he must just be trying to goad her-
When Gen's hand quests across the table for a dish a chopstick slams down on the table with enough force to punch through flesh and muscle and pin that hand to the wood beneath. Thankfully for her tablemate... it lands right by his hand and not on it. Whether Hayame intended only to threaten or if she'd actually meant to injure him, stopped only because of her missing eye and the new depth perception she hadn't yet accustomed to... There's absolutely no telling. But she leans over the table with her superior height, close enough to hiss quietly through clenched, sharp teeth.]
I would rather bite my tongue off and bleed to death than let a human fuck me. Do not talk to me about being smitten unless you want to find out what being an Armless jinba feels like.
[He'd already lost one arm, somehow, between the battle they'd fought in Venera and the showdown in Achamoth. She'd gladly show him to a flensing post if he insinuated further what attractions she might have for the species that had enslaved hers. - Where would she find a flensing post, outside of her former master's breeding stable? ... Whether he knew why that topic was so offensive to her or not meant almost nothing to her.
After a too-long moment, a glare almost past him with one eye and one empty socket, Hayame swallows the surge of memories she never asked for or wanted and sits back down, knowing already that she'd reacted too strongly to play off, but not willing to admit it or take it back. He's not interested in starting shit? It didn't seem like that to her.
But strangely (?) enough... She shoves the seaweed dish over to his side of the table where it would be easier for him to grab with his remaining hand.
no subject
And no matter how calm and tired he's acting... Hayame has enough fire for the both of them. For three of them, or four. Nothing honorable about killing? If there wasn't honor to be found in one's actions, if there wasn't things that were dishonorable to govern actions in combat...]
Spoken like a brute instead of a warrior. Don't confuse honor with something else.
[Hayame didn't enjoy killing. Beyond surges of satisfaction that came from revenge, which were different... Killing was necessary, it had a purpose, but it wasn't fun and it wasn't glorious, even when it was honorable. She had striven to live her life honorably since the moment she knew that the path of the warrior was the only one that would lead her away from the fate of a broodmare or an Armless, and even though she'd been shaken... She can't let go of it. If she didn't have it-
She'd have nothing. Hayame actually opens her mouth to continue to pontificate on the nature of honor, but then-
Then he says that. He's said similar things in the heat of battle, she remembered a comment or two that seemed designed to shame her or remind her of her gender, but this time... They aren't in the middle of a war. They're at a restaurant. There is no bow in her hand, just chopsticks. A moment after the word "smitten" registers her face grows flush with something like anger, something like embarrassment, and even though a part of her knows he must just be trying to goad her-
When Gen's hand quests across the table for a dish a chopstick slams down on the table with enough force to punch through flesh and muscle and pin that hand to the wood beneath. Thankfully for her tablemate... it lands right by his hand and not on it. Whether Hayame intended only to threaten or if she'd actually meant to injure him, stopped only because of her missing eye and the new depth perception she hadn't yet accustomed to... There's absolutely no telling. But she leans over the table with her superior height, close enough to hiss quietly through clenched, sharp teeth.]
I would rather bite my tongue off and bleed to death than let a human fuck me. Do not talk to me about being smitten unless you want to find out what being an Armless jinba feels like.
[He'd already lost one arm, somehow, between the battle they'd fought in Venera and the showdown in Achamoth. She'd gladly show him to a flensing post if he insinuated further what attractions she might have for the species that had enslaved hers. - Where would she find a flensing post, outside of her former master's breeding stable? ... Whether he knew why that topic was so offensive to her or not meant almost nothing to her.
After a too-long moment, a glare almost past him with one eye and one empty socket, Hayame swallows the surge of memories she never asked for or wanted and sits back down, knowing already that she'd reacted too strongly to play off, but not willing to admit it or take it back. He's not interested in starting shit? It didn't seem like that to her.
But strangely (?) enough... She shoves the seaweed dish over to his side of the table where it would be easier for him to grab with his remaining hand.
Is that... accepting the truce???]