Sota's (very) clever strategy is left to rot in the air. Disregarded; not up to par. Ticks him off. Not the idea of it not holding up. Her standards were stupid, anyway. But at the unwelcome silence that follows. Comes and only goes away for a father and his daughter, as though they are more important than him. Ticks him right off; pins his teeth in a sneer, glues him to grounds covered with smouldering coal.
But he moves. Sings the reminder of his situation and moves. Ire marks every line of his face, all the way, all until:
...to my disappointment all they sent were a couple of kids...
Here, he remembers to focus again. Doesn't want to waste away the chance at fun. And, well; mostly the chance at repairing a child's bruised ego. "Kids that'll FUCK you up, is what."
Return of a grin; cracks at one corner and savors the semi-curve at his lips. A gust explodes forth, promising to shower them in cold, and Sota pounces. Throws himself to the air and slaps his hands together. A sign, a second, and a third later — whoosh's the sound of something darting back down. Red, sharp — hungry for a taste of the cold-blooded — a blood formed blade flies at their opponent.
—
wc 213
[used Blood Blade]
But he moves. Sings the reminder of his situation and moves. Ire marks every line of his face, all the way, all until:
...to my disappointment all they sent were a couple of kids...
Here, he remembers to focus again. Doesn't want to waste away the chance at fun. And, well; mostly the chance at repairing a child's bruised ego. "Kids that'll FUCK you up, is what."
Return of a grin; cracks at one corner and savors the semi-curve at his lips. A gust explodes forth, promising to shower them in cold, and Sota pounces. Throws himself to the air and slaps his hands together. A sign, a second, and a third later — whoosh's the sound of something darting back down. Red, sharp — hungry for a taste of the cold-blooded — a blood formed blade flies at their opponent.
—
wc 213
[used Blood Blade]