Having only seen their power in bits and pieces, the odd glow surrounding him is new. Part of her would very much like to sit and pick apart his Chord Signature if he’d let her (he probably wouldn’t), but a larger part of her is more curious about what tricks he might now have up his sleeves. So rather than voice the thought (which she would without hesitation because the way it sounds would be enough to irk him) she simply observes and picks apart the bits of him she can from that.
What she does gather only serves to make her more curious.
As she opens her mouth to comment on the frankly absurd amount of magical energy he can channel compared to the average, he turns that grinning face in her direction and she pauses. The tone of his voice is surprising, and it’s that so much what he says but the relish with which he speaks it that leaves her wide-eyed. Her surprise lasts all of a portion of a second, a manic, startled giggle working out of her throat, hands reaching out to his lapels and yanking him toward her. Her mouth slams against his, quick and messy and voracious before she pulls away again, still laughing.
“There you are,” she croons, fingers releasing his lapels to instead grip his chin lightly, delight lighting her features. Seeing him– the real him– properly is almost better than anticipated. “So, this is the kind of thing that flips your switch, huh?” She isn’t sure of the exact reason, or even the extent, but this is the closest thing to emotion she’s seen on him and it’s thrilling.
“If it’ll keep that look on your face, I’ll pin these motherfuckers to the closest flat surface with their own bones,” she murmurs, voice low. Drawing the brim of her hat down over her eyes, she sets her sights on the effigy of the Gearmaker, mouth twitching into her own steady, sadistic grin. “Starting with this son of a bitch right here–!”
Her path is paved quickly. Almost too quickly to see, guitar swinging in a wide arc across what should have been That Man’s hooded head and shoulders. It meets a barrier rather than a body, formed strangely in comparison to how she’s used to, and she follows its source to the other figure. She meets green eyes with a cant of her head, and voice dropping lower into a snarl, bites out:
“This isn’t your fight, so back the fuck off–!”
Her chaotic whims seem to have caught the snake in her whirling vortex once again. There is little resistance that comes when I-No’s hands grab a hold of him, though neither is there any real feedback when her lips crash into his own. He remains eerily still, almost like a life-sized doll, his eyes frozen in place and staring right through her. The only signs of ‘life’, the aura pulsating around every portion of his being, adds warmth to the passionate exchange that most would have back off from. Of course, she wasn’t like most people.
His posture is straightened once again when she finally distances herself. However, the manic expression remains on his face. For all intents and purposes, her little display of ‘affection’ had brought him back to his senses. At least enough to actually have a proper hold on his urges, as opposed to letting them overwhelm him.
❝I’ll deal with her later.❞
If that sounded vaguely like a threat, then he probably hadn’t conveyed it well enough. Because it was absolutely a threat. Call it riding the high of his power trip, but he felt like taking a more hands on approach in examining everything that had garnered his curiosity thus far. Who knows, perhaps she wouldn’t even mind being torn apart as long as it meant satisfying him.
A flash of light causes him to fold over backwards, his head practically touching the floor from how far his body had bent. Of course, if it took on that form, then it stood to reason that it’smagic would be of the same caliber as her. He couldn’t afford to take her lightly. Any member of the six heroes posed a legitimate threat to him, fake or not.
❝Restriction 666, release--❞
Time to start the experiment.