[After all, he has made him pay the price twice over now. It seems, Matoba thinks with some indulgence, that their previous entanglements have left an impression. Good. If that means that Kizuna will think twice before brushing too close along the razor edge of Matoba's conscience, if that means that the memory of the snarl and heat and ruthless claws digging in past his defenses will come to him before he tries to reach too deeply, then he is doing his job- as one who must live the life of a shield to others, as one who must repel any attempt at ingress.]
[Today not a shield. Just a mask. Drawn in towards him, Kuromine Misa's footsteps are light and graceful as they manage to follow after in an approximate mirror of the intended movements. It's apparent there isn't a lot of experience in this area, but enough to guess without becoming tangled up in two left feet, an innate nimbleness helping above all else. Her hands come to rest on his upper arms for balance, glancing downward at their steps to read and match the pattern, then drawing back upward to focus every attention on her opponent.]
I like deference in a man. [A pretty smile curves her mouth as they meet, eye to glimmering eye, through the veil. Bitch.] Since you've showed some manners, I'll accept your offer.
[Not one who takes his plans being derailed lightly, Matoba supposes that this isn't the worst way he could be discovered. His intent on using this face to do some "sightseeing" among the fresh wildcards must be set aside for now, but in its place he finds an opportunity. How is this little heartbreaker coming along in the den of heartless spirits?]
[Their movements coalesce into a slow sway, hypnotic in its lulling rhythm, but not enough to dull the knife of KuroMisa's tongue.] I wonder what you could want with me? [She muses softly as they turn, clock-work,] When there are so many other hearts to wear on your sleeve.
no subject
[After all, he has made him pay the price twice over now. It seems, Matoba thinks with some indulgence, that their previous entanglements have left an impression. Good. If that means that Kizuna will think twice before brushing too close along the razor edge of Matoba's conscience, if that means that the memory of the snarl and heat and ruthless claws digging in past his defenses will come to him before he tries to reach too deeply, then he is doing his job- as one who must live the life of a shield to others, as one who must repel any attempt at ingress.]
[Today not a shield. Just a mask. Drawn in towards him, Kuromine Misa's footsteps are light and graceful as they manage to follow after in an approximate mirror of the intended movements. It's apparent there isn't a lot of experience in this area, but enough to guess without becoming tangled up in two left feet, an innate nimbleness helping above all else. Her hands come to rest on his upper arms for balance, glancing downward at their steps to read and match the pattern, then drawing back upward to focus every attention on her opponent.]
I like deference in a man. [A pretty smile curves her mouth as they meet, eye to glimmering eye, through the veil. Bitch.] Since you've showed some manners, I'll accept your offer.
[Not one who takes his plans being derailed lightly, Matoba supposes that this isn't the worst way he could be discovered. His intent on using this face to do some "sightseeing" among the fresh wildcards must be set aside for now, but in its place he finds an opportunity. How is this little heartbreaker coming along in the den of heartless spirits?]
[Their movements coalesce into a slow sway, hypnotic in its lulling rhythm, but not enough to dull the knife of KuroMisa's tongue.] I wonder what you could want with me? [She muses softly as they turn, clock-work,] When there are so many other hearts to wear on your sleeve.