the right mood

[grandhighblood]

characters: grand highblood & summoner

setting: floor thirteen - gothic cathedral church thang

format: action

summary: he's not...trying...to help, per se.

warnings: swearing, possible violence, promiscuous behaviour, etc... you know, the usual.

[ the mood of this floor is something the grand highblood is more used to, and the religious theme is a nice little addition to it. not that he knows how earth churches and shit look like, but he just had a feeling that's what it all was about. he just felt that it was. his feelings can be pretty accurate, especially when it comes to stuff he's into.

to his surprise, he spots a certain someone that he didn't expect to find here. as much as he doesn't want to admit it, his cardiovascular system suddenly starts working double time, a grin spreading across his face. ]

Comments

[grandhighblood]

[It's a good thing that the highblood has a hard time feeling pity, because this is a truly pitiful sight. Instead, he feels disgust, and his lips peel back into a sneer. There's...very little the Summoner can do in his current state that would help change the highblood's mind, but yeah, trying to fight now would've come off a little desperate.

Sure, the highblood didn't have the highest standards if he hated someone enough, so even a couple of mistakes here and there wouldn't have gotten such a severe reaction from him. But do anything that would normally stir feelings bordering on pity? He just couldn't handle that sort of behavior, especially from his kismesis.

He lingers just for a moment, his expression only hardening. That slack-jawed, mid-sentence look is...not a good look on the rebel. It's just sad, and he can't believe himself. He can't believe he even considered accepting this lowblood trash as a kismesis. There had been such potential, too. It was so perfect, that he had been almost willing to look over the fact that they were practically on the opposite sides of the spectrum. What a waste.]

I all motherfucking misjudged you, motherfucker. Just lie the fuck back down on the ground where you all belong. [He grinds his teeth, obviously a bit torn, but the hesitation is barely noticeable as he turns to leave.]