“There’s that damn name again. Seriously, what’s with you people and calling me-! Grk..!” Ragna now holding his head as a ‘memory’ started to enter his head. This man... did Ragna know him..? The memory ending as quickly as it came. “You’re... Azrael. That dog bastard..!”

Nigga this was TWO MONTHS ago

Maybe it wouldn't if he didn't sicc Eleanor on gramps when he'd dare to even breathe, huh

That said, Azrael has not taken a single inhale nor exhale in over 2 weeks.

were it not for the witch that would obliterate me. *Prime Field Intervention intensifies*

Fuck off.

He's fine! Just a very... Tager-shade of red.

Dying is for woobies and protags.

... Does he answer and break two weeks of subterfuge, or keep this— oh fuck it. ❝If we're being realistic, me "exploding" is always a risk to some capacity.❞

❝Normally, I make the conscious effort to breathe, but I guess any other opportunity, it'd be too... dark to really notice.❞ With a sharp exhale, he pops his neck.

hakan and his hatsune miku-green lego hair *are* handsome

I'm not acknowledging it.

The Mad Dog has no weaknesses. Except when he does.

Okay.

Who knows.

❝... What the /fuck/ is that thing.❞

A shattering gust. A sheer streak of blue, nigh-undetectable to unhoned eyes. All in that sudden sensory assault, a crushing-yet-retained grip grips the back of Steven Arko's head, lifting the man with disturbing ease. ❝Thought you could escape from me, eh, 𝘽𝙊𝙔?❞

// *THEY.

❝Every punch you throw makes you a bit stronger, and yet you wimps can't even manage to do /that/ right.❞

“I'm in the mood... for some havoc.~”