@smol-sirens-garden ( Emma )
W hap. A tightly structured fist, loaded with a violent, tempestuous irritability, forthwith descends and unmercifully assaults the nose of a hapless adolescent without any sliver of hesitation behind its distribution. -- Whap, and another is then provided. -- Sequential punches, their force in impact augmenting with each implementation, besmirching their outward features with splotches of crimson whilst fracturing bones, suffusing them with sensations of discomforting pain intended to penalize, to insert within these pieces of trash a reminder that failure was unquestionably a nonacceptance in Tenjiku. ----- Izana, the ambiguous pillar that commands it beneath his aspiring reign, yearned to rid himself of the tiresome boredom weighing down atop his shoulders, thus personally selected to locate and punish the now-unconscious kept beneath him for causing a commissioning exchange to swerve into a rancid direction and therefore had been unsuccessful. The abrupt sound of footsteps, heeled talons, upon asphalt had ceased another incoming swing of his appendage, however, refraining it wholly from contacting flesh anew. Lips, semi- simpering from roused adrenaline, purses in thought. - A quietude surrounds him momentarily, akin to the passing zephyr brushing through his white locks of hair, as an individual gradually commenced to emerge from the intersection of the alleyway where he and his pest were idling at. -- The sight of blonde hair stirs a recollection, a childhood promise that slipped through once innocent fingers many years ago. He drops the other and pivots, the faint jingles of earrings pursuing his movements whilst violet eyes align with opposing iluminescent golds. He greets not the girl, however, wiping the blood off his cheek in its stead, evidently apathetic in engaging with forgotten ghosts of the past.
