[ Majima was cackling like a loon as one of the strangers advanced on him with a short sword; a fluid, spinning kick knocked the blade right out of its hands. Too fuckin' slow, not in a million years.
He'd fought with plenty of people over the years. But fought beside? It was an old feeling, a faraway feeling, like finding the corner of a chest once smothered over by dark earth. He'd even forgotten to keep count -- not something Taiga did, so the best he could do was roll his shoulders in a shrug of said admission before his knife threaded an arc of deep violet through the throats of two more targets.
It was at times like this, when he could practically taste the sharp bouquet of copper in the air, that Majima wondered if he really was crazy -- if the merciless control he'd held onto for so long hadn't been a mask, but an overcompensation.
You're psycho, Majima.
He tossed his dagger into the air with perfect, knowing grace; a kick sent it whistling and vicious through the air to bury itself hilt-deep in the chest of a third man. Majima pulled the blade free in what ought to have been a gush of hot scarlet. The man began to dissolve, but not before Majima leaned in close, as if to murmur some sweet promise into a lover's ear: ]
they need to be stopped tbh
He'd fought with plenty of people over the years. But fought beside? It was an old feeling, a faraway feeling, like finding the corner of a chest once smothered over by dark earth. He'd even forgotten to keep count -- not something Taiga did, so the best he could do was roll his shoulders in a shrug of said admission before his knife threaded an arc of deep violet through the throats of two more targets.
It was at times like this, when he could practically taste the sharp bouquet of copper in the air, that Majima wondered if he really was crazy -- if the merciless control he'd held onto for so long hadn't been a mask, but an overcompensation.
You're psycho, Majima.
He tossed his dagger into the air with perfect, knowing grace; a kick sent it whistling and vicious through the air to bury itself hilt-deep in the chest of a third man. Majima pulled the blade free in what ought to have been a gush of hot scarlet. The man began to dissolve, but not before Majima leaned in close, as if to murmur some sweet promise into a lover's ear: ]
You're so pathetic...