TMITM
Megalomaniacal Arbiter
Morrow walked, wraithlike, along the quiet streets of the city of London.
Arisu was sleeping on his shoulder; more tired than she would admit because of the previous day. He was tired, too, but he was used to conflict. It was a lifestyle.
Scaling a low building quickly, making sure Arisu didn't wake up, the wraith of japan set his eyes on the warehouse, setting Arisu down quietly.
And... wow. He did a lot of damage.
The doors were completely blown off their hinges and there was a giant crack in a wall where his gist had slammed a guard into it. He had no doubt there were also signs of the dragon escaping and the lock being sliced cleanly in two.
He had made a spectacle of it, and that was all well and good. They would know not to mess with another child of wind and flame again. Hopefully.
Arisu woke a few hours later, looking at him with a curious gaze.
She approached him and touched his arm, making him jump, such was the nature of his deep reminiscence.
She frowned, seeing him jump.
"What's wrong?" She said, tilting her head a little bit.
"...nothing," Morrow said truthfully, his gaze drifting back towards the warehouse. "I just... I'm used to working alone."
"Mph. Aren't you cold?"
And he was, a little bit. His clothes were made for battle, not comfort or warmth. But Arisu was wearing even less, some jeans and a short-sleeved shirt.
Morrow scoffed.
"Aren't you?"
Arisu shrugged, suppressing her own shivers, and then frowned, remembering something, and put her hands on her hips.
"Alright, spill. Dragon Prince? When I last saw you, you were... Dragon Prince?"\
Arisu shoved him down onto the ground, forcing him to sit.
"Explain."
Arisu was sleeping on his shoulder; more tired than she would admit because of the previous day. He was tired, too, but he was used to conflict. It was a lifestyle.
Scaling a low building quickly, making sure Arisu didn't wake up, the wraith of japan set his eyes on the warehouse, setting Arisu down quietly.
And... wow. He did a lot of damage.
The doors were completely blown off their hinges and there was a giant crack in a wall where his gist had slammed a guard into it. He had no doubt there were also signs of the dragon escaping and the lock being sliced cleanly in two.
He had made a spectacle of it, and that was all well and good. They would know not to mess with another child of wind and flame again. Hopefully.
Arisu woke a few hours later, looking at him with a curious gaze.
She approached him and touched his arm, making him jump, such was the nature of his deep reminiscence.
She frowned, seeing him jump.
"What's wrong?" She said, tilting her head a little bit.
"...nothing," Morrow said truthfully, his gaze drifting back towards the warehouse. "I just... I'm used to working alone."
"Mph. Aren't you cold?"
And he was, a little bit. His clothes were made for battle, not comfort or warmth. But Arisu was wearing even less, some jeans and a short-sleeved shirt.
Morrow scoffed.
"Aren't you?"
Arisu shrugged, suppressing her own shivers, and then frowned, remembering something, and put her hands on her hips.
"Alright, spill. Dragon Prince? When I last saw you, you were... Dragon Prince?"\
Arisu shoved him down onto the ground, forcing him to sit.
"Explain."
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