[There’s something about this man that resonates uncomfortably for Kanda – and not because of a moment shared years ago, before Kanda’s world had been blown apart. No this… it’s much more intrinsic, echoes the days spend in endless battles, when he’d been fueled by a toxic mix of adrenaline and rage with nothing to brunt the sharp edge of it.
It’s not a time that he’s proud of, not something he wants to return to. Here, as he is now, he can choose his battles, weigh the lives pitted against him with his own interpretation and judgement.
It’s no longer ordered slaughter, death delivered for a cause he didn’t give a damn about.
But this man?
There had been a moment where that eye reflected something almost manic…
Shaking his head, he takes the offered glass, knocks the contents back in a single long swallow, and then sets the glass down without pause or hesitation. The liquor burns down his throat, a welcome distraction from the turn of thoughts, before he scowls at the older man.]
Tastes like shit.
[And then a smirk, before he pushes back to his feet and steps away from the bar.]
Clearly, your taste in hokk is as bad as your choice in games, pops. Next time try something better.
[And with that, he turns on a heel and begins to stride away, steps sure. Sometimes, it’s better to leave the past where it is, but he has the feeling this is a past that isn’t likely to stay buried.
/end?
It’s not a time that he’s proud of, not something he wants to return to. Here, as he is now, he can choose his battles, weigh the lives pitted against him with his own interpretation and judgement.
It’s no longer ordered slaughter, death delivered for a cause he didn’t give a damn about.
But this man?
There had been a moment where that eye reflected something almost manic…
Shaking his head, he takes the offered glass, knocks the contents back in a single long swallow, and then sets the glass down without pause or hesitation. The liquor burns down his throat, a welcome distraction from the turn of thoughts, before he scowls at the older man.]
Tastes like shit.
[And then a smirk, before he pushes back to his feet and steps away from the bar.]
Clearly, your taste in hokk is as bad as your choice in games, pops. Next time try something better.
[And with that, he turns on a heel and begins to stride away, steps sure. Sometimes, it’s better to leave the past where it is, but he has the feeling this is a past that isn’t likely to stay buried.
He’s never been that damned lucky.]