#yeolfeu

{`hordes the pizza.}

/just barely dodges a knife that's swung near his face, elbowing one of the thugs that have gathered around him in the throat, followed by a quick roundhouse kick to another's face. He's slashed in the side by a third stranger, but all that comes from him is a heavy sigh before he greets his assailant's nose with his tightly-wound fist. Within two minutes, all four of the thugs are down and out for the count (maybe for a day or two at the least), and he lifts his shirt just slightly to check the area that had been cut with the blade. His shirt is stained with blood, but other than that there's no other sign of foul play on his person. The skin has repaired itself already, not even leaving behind a scar, looking fresh as (he assumes) the day he was born; I really liked this shirt.

/stands there silently with a half-empty cup of coffee in one hand, the other hidden in his front pocket, and he glances over your figure (out of habit, really) before letting slip an unabashed yawn that was bound to come around sooner or later, considering he's been awake for six days straight (though there are, not surprisingly, zero signs of fatigue on his visage); Hey.