[ that sounds like something a sneak would say, but in the short time that choso has known of geto-kenjaku, he would have never said anything like this guy does, nor wear those kinds of expressions even if it was for the bit. it’s really that thought alone that stays choso’s murderous hand where it is: pressed to the other palm as if in prayer, hiding away the trembling, dense orb of blood in preparation of a Bad Time.
he points the business-end (fingers) of his joined hands up and away from the guy’s panicky face as his own chin tips up. ]
Who, then? I will allow you twenty seconds to explain.
no subject
he points the business-end (fingers) of his joined hands up and away from the guy’s panicky face as his own chin tips up. ]
Who, then? I will allow you twenty seconds to explain.