[ The person whom Kiritsubo had leaned over to speak to is not a fellow Wildcard, or even a fellow spectator, but a lowly 4♦️ dressed in what can best be described as a "battle bikini." The woman is beautiful, white-skinned and ruby-eyed, with long jet black hair and large breasts. She's sitting in the lap of a large man watching the fight, who is clutching a leash attached to the leather collar around her neck — who turns to glare at Kiritsubo for daring to speak to his claimed prize, but quickly stops himself when he recognizes the golden Wildcard tattoos on "her" legs. Royal though he may be, he has no power to stop a Wildcard from talking to his servant, whether he'd won her in a match or not.
The woman, for her part, turns to blink at the unknown man with wide, curious eyes. She has a few superficial wounds peppered around her body, but nothing that would leave a scar.
Although her master seems to recognize the hierarchy at play... she does not. ]
Uh... are you talking to me? [ pointing at herself, with almost girlish innocence. ]
4
The woman, for her part, turns to blink at the unknown man with wide, curious eyes. She has a few superficial wounds peppered around her body, but nothing that would leave a scar.
Although her master seems to recognize the hierarchy at play... she does not. ]
Uh... are you talking to me? [ pointing at herself, with almost girlish innocence. ]