[Snap, crackle, pop. It sounds like a spine's being readjusted, the grinding of bones falling back into place. Then a sigh - long winded and exaggerated. Two foot falls follow and they're crisp, cut -]
[ - sharp. ] Well, that wasn't very nice.
[Feed picks up a curved boot heel - one that seems to rocket right up and cut the dark. It rises and
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Care to repeat the name? [Because he doesn't speak the language - it's familiar. Brisking on the cusp of a young prince he knew from a time before - well, this.] Mit-what?
[But the Sin's not entirely rude; couldn't be. He rocks back on his heels, stops underneath a buzzing post to get a few slivers of light on his skin. The kind of light that turns the rounds of his shades silver, the kind that lights up everything the dark cared to hide.]
[He rolls his hand on his wrist.] First one that seems friendly, at least.
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Friend, huh? Something tells me that's a statement we should definitely take with a grain of salt.
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[Pull of a frown makes his whole face drop; like a glass shattering to pieces and both eyebrows go way up. Pull together at the top piece of his nose and make wrinkles of his skin.] Oi, oi, oi - I make it a point not to lie. I'm not interested in that.
[Save the lying and back-stabbing for one of the other Seven Deadlies, thanks.]
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Oh really? You mean this isn't a case where "don't judge a book by its cover" should be tossed right out? Color me surprised.
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Whatever you want - I'm just not interested in lying.
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