[He recognizes the motion, the playfulness and ease with which someone holds a blade, the choice of not moving, in fear of betraying their next move as something predictable.
A thug, then.
His specialty. His cane latches, a click with a slight wrist jerk on the handle.
And really, Mamoru's eyes behind the red lenses narrow. Not in an evaluating squint, though he's that hypocritical, considering, but in thought. Something coils in his chest that reminds him of how he had taken in the outline and surface of a frozen being towering in one of the rooms, face contorted in shock and sudden despair. Considering resources, practicality and tacticality alike, but the possibility that perhaps these people didn't want to be unfrozen.
Still, no way of telling. The moment tasted like copper in his mouth as he recalled the sand seeping under his fingernails into a wound in his chest as he screamed.] Why an insult? Wouldn't you want to decide how to die?
no subject
A thug, then.
His specialty. His cane latches, a click with a slight wrist jerk on the handle.
And really, Mamoru's eyes behind the red lenses narrow. Not in an evaluating squint, though he's that hypocritical, considering, but in thought. Something coils in his chest that reminds him of how he had taken in the outline and surface of a frozen being towering in one of the rooms, face contorted in shock and sudden despair. Considering resources, practicality and tacticality alike, but the possibility that perhaps these people didn't want to be unfrozen.
Still, no way of telling. The moment tasted like copper in his mouth as he recalled the sand seeping under his fingernails into a wound in his chest as he screamed.] Why an insult? Wouldn't you want to decide how to die?