ᕙ( •̀ ︿•́ )ᕗ
Send me a "ᕙ( •̀ ︿•́ )ᕗ" and my muse will react to yours challenging them to a fight.
“What? I think there’s been a misunderstanding here.” Certainly; with Simon, in his civilian wear, standing over another supposed citizen’s unconscious body, it looked like he was trying to mug the man. In actuality, it had been the other way around. Somewhat. His assailant didn’t want his money-- he wanted to take his life.
That explained the discarded gun lying a few feet away that had been sliced open by a blast of Simon’s heat vision.
Well, it would, if he would just say that.
“He attacked me, miss--”












