[PRP] Killer instinct [Shiloh]

[Melancholies]

Shiloh's balance was impeccable. Didn't mean he didn't topple with enough force.

"What the ******** do you want?!" He looked cornered, but that was just when he was most dangerous. Any flora within his presence was starting to shudder terribly in warning, "I can really ******** your day up Kuroda. Leave now." He was scooting backwards, the display still pathetic. Had this occurred a few months ago, he wouldn't have held back. Now he had a future he wanted to preserve, and that meant pretending to not be magic.

But like, his life was a little more important. He'd survive the gash.

Blade Kuroda

 

[Blade Kuroda]

"Hmm..."

The figure tilted his head at Shiloh, as if considering something.

"Nothing more for now. I've had my fill."

And with that, he began to lumber on backwards, keeping track of where Shiloh was.

melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

He had his fill.

For a second there was a boiling hot rage at the callous dismissal; he felt like a dog, like livestock, like he had a purpose and now it was served and now that was the end of it. You're not needed anymore—that's what that said.

The trees still rustled, the grass still rippled like waves underwater, the leaves still stuck to the ground like they were coated in glue, and then... it stopped. The leaves blew again like normal, the grass stilled, the trees ceased their swell, and all Shiloh was left with was the aching pain underneath his fingers and the blood stuck between them.

He chanced a glance down—even with the natural sutures of the plants, he could see the clean layers of skin where they parted—and it made him grimace and gag.

A blink later and he was gone, nothing to show for the struggle save for the spilled bag of goods and his cellphone on the pavement.

Blade Kuroda

ty 4 rp!