[ lumine blinks when he hands her the blade, finding it a little strange that it's even solid. then again, so were her strings earlier, manipulating it so there's some kind of structure despite its real form. her fingers curl around the hilt, her nose wrinkling when it feels uncomfortable against her palm. to help, she draws cryo energy across it, freezing the blade.
there, much better and with fewer feelings of existential crisis, she thinks. ]
Like this? [ she holds her knife as if she's holding a key to turn in keyhole, the point directed towards his stomach. ] Or do I hold it the way psychos do in movies?
no subject
there, much better and with fewer feelings of existential crisis, she thinks. ]
Like this? [ she holds her knife as if she's holding a key to turn in keyhole, the point directed towards his stomach. ] Or do I hold it the way psychos do in movies?