[he is thankfully much better at fighting with a sword than he likes to let people think--he can keep up, keep blocking, even if it's close a couple of times.]
No one belongs to you. [he sneers. a battle of egos.] You're dead.
[he looks for a break and when he finds it, he skirts around to start slicing through those strings.]
no subject
No one belongs to you. [he sneers. a battle of egos.] You're dead.
[he looks for a break and when he finds it, he skirts around to start slicing through those strings.]