✿ "I don't have time to deal with you!"
Folklore claimed pearls to be formed from the tears of mischievous mermaids. Myths declared that they were created from the bouncing laughter of the gods. Milky-white beauties whose luster were only rivaled by the gentle moon, it was only right that it's origins be the ones of fantasies and legends. The truth was far filthier however.
✿ "I try... and I try... and your kind squirms in, groping and belching, bringing your stink into my vicinity ... and then my concentration--!!"
Shigyo curled her fingers into a fist and swung it into the man's jaw with a sharp crack.
A tale admitted by tired fisherman, a truth to be whispered: The precious jewels were born from irritation, an attempt to hide something unwanted and unnecessary. Glammed up grains of sand, hardened phelgm to be spat into the depths of the sea. A disgusting, wretched little lie lie lie!
She wouldn't allow for the man to reel back too far; the polished fingers of her free hand grabbed the end of his shirt and pulled, snapping his bewildered expression back straight into a punch. And another and another, with her hold on his shirt in a vice grip. Break him as much as he broke her. The spray as blood made attacks slippery, which made her frustrated and only made her hit HARDER. She prided herself in staying calm, composed and regal. Her persona only loosened in battle, where her true self could shine. The pearl could cast off her shell and reveal the grainy mess imprisoned from the world.
But this city grated on her nerves. Made it so it wasn't up to her when to set loose.
One final blow sent the man flying into the wall behind him, a sick thump as he hit hard brick and cold concrete. Not dead but barely so. Her punching bag would live to see another day if he remained as is. The air was quiet, her ragged breathing from her now average stamina the only sounds disrupting the silence now. And once it had evened out... she straightened up, tugs at her sleeves and stepped out of the alley. Or she would have, if someone hadn't stood in her way.
Her stress had been relieved, she could approach him calmly now. But her voice would have a razor edge to it, ready to slice at the mere sign of annoyance.
✿ "It was the common story. A nice man promises you a meal but your appetites don't seem to match: A cheap beef bowl for the young lady and an expensive, clean cut oyster for the gentleman. . . Expecting me to pay, could you believe it? No manners, what-so-ever."
✿ "You've seen the results. Would a guy like you follow in his footsteps?"
