[ Lack of courage, full of dreams. Very different from the girls he's used to dealing with, but perhaps that's interesting in of itself. Somehow, deep down, he knows the fascination and the obsessive twist coiling through the gaps of his ribs wouldn't be so strong if it weren't for what they share, and he so loathes the idea of feelings given inorganically—
Likehearted. Ah, he doesn't hear that often. ]
For the love of murder...it'd be the first time someone who wasn't a fellow killer thought that. [ A sigh. ] Then again, that type of kindness could kill in it's own right.
[ There's something so...strange in being viewed as an unfortunate child, someone wronged, considering everything. For someone to see themselves in him in a way that isn't a blade in his guts. It doesn't suit him.
Such a strange, almost sour taste of normalcy, and yet that lingering flavor makes him want to chase it like a predator on the hunt. ]
...I wouldn't if I could help it. [ He doesn't like feeling like this, especially with that ever-familiar twinge of lust mixing with it, the smell of blood and death and urge to kill from before colliding into a volatile fever pitch as his fingers tap faster on the red-stained concrete. It's a terrible combination, and he knows it. ] All these emotions aren't good for an assassin, you know?
[He watches that tension coil tighter, red staining the concrete. Ah, well. He was hoping this wouldn't be a problem, but routes of deescalation were always flexible.]
It's only been a little more than two weeks, but it feels like forever since he's been in the battlefield. No sorties, no defensive battles, no training in the gym in the early mornings...nothing to sate himself in any way.
All that, plus the death, the tension, the feelings that are both his own and not plucking at all of his nerves, it's no wonder the gaze that settles on Solomon is probably the coldest it's been since he got here. ]
Solomon-sensei. [ Oh, he wants to, but he has to know. ] Do you think you can handle me?
Who's to say? [He rises to his feet.] I'm a sorcerer. Not a soldier.
But I do have a predicament, and who better than you to show me by example?
[With a flourish, the black pen with diamond inlay - the very one Solomon asked Yugamu to watch out for - is pulled out to rest in his fingers. First naturally, flicked between his fingers, before fully flipping into his palm like the hilt of a weapon.
A blink, and the pen is something else - a dagger, sharp and roughly hewn in shades of iridescent diamond.
Another blink, and the pen is once again a pen, flicking against his fingers.]
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no subject
Likehearted. Ah, he doesn't hear that often. ]
For the love of murder...it'd be the first time someone who wasn't a fellow killer thought that. [ A sigh. ] Then again, that type of kindness could kill in it's own right.
[ There's something so...strange in being viewed as an unfortunate child, someone wronged, considering everything. For someone to see themselves in him in a way that isn't a blade in his guts. It doesn't suit him.
Such a strange, almost sour taste of normalcy, and yet that lingering flavor makes him want to chase it like a predator on the hunt. ]
...I wouldn't if I could help it. [ He doesn't like feeling like this, especially with that ever-familiar twinge of lust mixing with it, the smell of blood and death and urge to kill from before colliding into a volatile fever pitch as his fingers tap faster on the red-stained concrete. It's a terrible combination, and he knows it. ] All these emotions aren't good for an assassin, you know?
no subject
Then why don't we get it out of your system?
[A low response.]
You're familiar with knives, I take it?
no subject
It's only been a little more than two weeks, but it feels like forever since he's been in the battlefield. No sorties, no defensive battles, no training in the gym in the early mornings...nothing to sate himself in any way.
All that, plus the death, the tension, the feelings that are both his own and not plucking at all of his nerves, it's no wonder the gaze that settles on Solomon is probably the coldest it's been since he got here. ]
Solomon-sensei. [ Oh, he wants to, but he has to know. ] Do you think you can handle me?
no subject
But I do have a predicament, and who better than you to show me by example?
[With a flourish, the black pen with diamond inlay - the very one Solomon asked Yugamu to watch out for - is pulled out to rest in his fingers. First naturally, flicked between his fingers, before fully flipping into his palm like the hilt of a weapon.
A blink, and the pen is something else - a dagger, sharp and roughly hewn in shades of iridescent diamond.
Another blink, and the pen is once again a pen, flicking against his fingers.]
I am in dire need of some practice.