[Oh, Akira is more than happy to provide Malice with an answer. There’s a bit of a shuffle, the blade of the butcher knife pressed shallowly to Ahito’s throat while he releases his hold on the other’s wrists to withdraw something from his back pocket.]
You lot are a sickness! An ailment which must be purged! I will not cease until every last one of you have been expunged!
[In Akira’s left hand is a gun, the very gun that belongs to Ahito. Without another word, Akira takes aim directly at Malice. Thank you for preloading your gun, Ahito! That’s not safe at all, but Akira appreciates you for it.]
no subject
You lot are a sickness! An ailment which must be purged! I will not cease until every last one of you have been expunged!
[In Akira’s left hand is a gun, the very gun that belongs to Ahito. Without another word, Akira takes aim directly at Malice. Thank you for preloading your gun, Ahito! That’s not safe at all, but Akira appreciates you for it.]