雲散霧消

You say that as if it were a bad thing. Come now, Spettro. You, of all people, should know such things do little in swaying my attention.

The smoldering cigarette is taken up but a moment after it is offered up, his own hand cupping fully about the other’s, fleeting but invasive in his own way. Plucked free, 21 brings filter to his lips while coming around the side of the Spy and pulling an indulgent inhale from it. His own exhale is a lazy slipstream on a faint sigh, finding the edge in the man’s voice sharp and refreshing. He would have been sorely disappointed if there had been anything else.

“You make it sound as if I have an ulterior motive in seeking you out. How presumptuous of you. As if it weren’t allowed for a brutal murderer with a god complex to simply come by and say hello.” A faint scoff before 21 takes another inhale of the cigarette about smiling lips, inclined to let the smoke leave as he speaks up again. “Although, it would be a fair assumption to think I sought you out to ask what you thought of your Valentine’s Day gift. I would have left flowers but I just didn’t have the time. You know how it goes. Places to be, human beings to dismember in gleefully creative ways.”

It’s difficult to say what makes his lip curl in distaste. The contact of one hand, far too warm, against his own? The fact that his personal space is further tainted by the other, close enough to feel the brush of suit’s jacket? Or maybe the carrying of the smoke upon the wind, drifting the wisps across his masked face before they disperse all together?

Could be all of that and more, for despite the offering of the cigarette, the presence of the assassin isn’t a welcome one, and the man reminds him as to why.

Oni takes great care of his things, sparing no expense. If it isn’t drawing to the eye it’s rare he wants it near him, be it breathing or not. That door the other ruined was well carved and from wood not found in this region. It’s only a door, true, but it was his door. A petty slight that the other finds to be a thoughtful gift. Or he knows just what kind of ire might be roused, for there is some and it comes in the form of a brandished knife.

It isn’t in the stomach that the drop point is buried—no, no; he’s gutted him before, that’s just too predictable—but straight up beneath his jaw, burying into the soft flesh, threatening to cut into his tongue. Fingers fist into the assassin’s crisp dress shirt and he pushes him to the nearby wall, following with a close press for lips to be brought to his ear in a whisper. 

The laugh that follows is just as silver lined as his tongue, carrying a notion of a voice that has charmed many with such a velvet timbre. It matches quite well with the clean cut image that approaches, still favoring the sharp tailored fabrics of the shadows as much as the Spy holding all of his attention. Only when closing the distance does 21 emit an inhaling hiss of breath through his teeth as though burned despite it’s done in a primal way of appreciation instead.

“Mm, red really does suit you. Not that blue wasn’t flattering but, oh, this is much, much better.” A devilish smile is there to match the sharp ice of his eyes, coming to stand at a distance that is neither careful of danger or yet personally invasive. Always the fine line with Oni, of course. They’ve danced with blades around each other so many times after all.

“I’ve completely forgotten you even attempted something of an insult.” A vague canting of his head. “Because, really, as if you’ve been living the life of adventure and luxury without me.”

There’s something almost bored in the raise and turn of his eyes away from the bedlamite when he approaches, yet what he looks upon doesn’t seem to be any more interesting. It isn’t uncommon for him to take shelter in a portion of the territory where he is able to survey the battle grounds. It’s discrete where he feels comfortable enough to remove the snarl of the wooden mask that dangles listlessly from his belt.

Smoke wafts from his nose, exhaled in soft wisps of blue-tinged white as his free hand curls, tempted to sink beyond cloth to the haft of the waiting kunai. A thoughtless urge; it’s second nature to bear arms around the blue-eyed devil. Of course red would suit him in the other’s eyes; they’ve both worn the color enough when they’ve clashed, warm and dripping.

“Do not flatter yourself, Shi,” he murmurs the moniker, tainting it with venom because, as much as he hates to admit, the other is right in his sarcasm. Things have been utterly droll as of late. Rather than reaching for the comfortable weight of his knife, the cigarette is plucked from his lips and held over his shoulder between the clamped V of two slender fingers.

@sotonohito

“Oh where, oh where has my little Spettro gone?” As if asking such a question were necessary when the Spy is well within his sight, voice raised in a sing song manner that is hardly easy to miss.

It’s been months since the transfer and team switch. Months since dropping everything to seek out new challenges in a new base. But like every rotation, it never seems to last very long. Definitely not long enough for a particular infatuation to run its course.

The carving is fresh, maybe a half a day old at the most. Did he know of his return? He might have been flattered if he was of a better mood. 

The ruined door is closed behind him, shutting away the rest of the world. At least for now. A long bath and change of clothes is in order before he goes hunting. He has a new kunai to test out, after all. And what better way to than to carve his own crude design?

Tagged by: @nastypieceofwxrk​

Strength: ♥♥♥♥♡♡♡♡♡♡

Dexterity: ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Speed: ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♡♡♡

Stamina:   ♥♥♥♥♥♡♡♡♡♡

Reflex Level: ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♡

Agility: ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♡

Intellect:   ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♡♡♡

Faith:   ♥♥♥♥♡♡♡♡♡♡

Luck:   ♥♥♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Power:   ♥♥♥♥♥♡♡♡♡♡

Weapon Skills: (Melee)   ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♡♡

Weapon Skills: (Firearm):   ♥♥♥♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Weapon Skills: (Bow):   ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♡♡♡

Magic/Special Ability Control: ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♡♡♡ [demon au]

Hand to Hand Skills: ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Armor Strength: (If Muse uses armor) ♥♥♥♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ [demon au]

Pain Tolerance:   ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♡♡♡

Psyche Break Limit: (The Level of Mental strength before Your Muse snaps/goes berserk):   ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

~

Describe any special abilities Your Muse has:

I suppose he has an uncanny knack of being able to get under someone’s skin. Even those that’s been deemed as unflappable. 

How well can Your Muse fight large groups of enemies?:

Both armed and unarmed, Oni’s a pretty formative foe. Thing is, he doesn’t have strength on his side and he relies almost solely on his speed, dexterity, mind tricks and toys (IE: Dead Ringer). It’s EXTREMELY rare he’ll try to over power someone without using pressure points or something of the sort. 

Describe any weaknesses Your Muse may have:

Vanity, not very strong, gets bored easily. 

List five weapons(if five) that Your Muse can use:

Swords (preferably of oriental make), kunai, sai, bow, kusarigama.

Give a description of how Your muse fights/Fighting Styles:

Oni isn’t strong and he knows this, if he can’t rely on avoiding a fight completely with the Dead Ringer, then he’ll stay on guard, doing what he can to toy with the other’s mind and get them angry. Like above, it’s extremely rare that Oni will make the first attack. If he can bait someone into striking, then it’s possible that he can get the upper hand, especially if he’s unarmed. 

Describe the One enemy that pushed Your Muse to their true potential:

That would be his own failure. After losing his finger through ritual Yubitsume, he strove to better himself through various means, most of which being self torture (or by the hands of others), isolation, and pushing his body to extreme limits.

Describe what occurs when your muse finally snaps in battle:

Nothing, surprisingly. He almost goes into a zen state of pure calm. It’s not until later that something’s done. He’s not one that relies on poisons, but boy he knows how to make a concoction that have people wish they were dead. Hopefully he’s not around when it takes full effect, because he will draw out every single bit of pain that he can, either with his bare hands or a strategically placed blade.

If he doesn’t have the option of planned revenge, like he’s cornered or doesn’t have his Dead Ringer, that calm turns on its head. Gloves come off (or mask in his case) and he becomes the demon that he represents with it. 

What sort of tactics will your muse use in battle to help give them the upper hand?:

Trickery, lots and lots of trickery. Deception as well. There’s no doubt that he always has his kunai inches away from his fingers when confronting someone, even when he can handle himself well enough unarmed. 

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