:smirk://Kou//blitz

There is a gnawing insecurity in the back of my mind and a fear trapped in my teeth and held by jaws. Like rust forming in the crevices of my equilibrium and forming scratches along the surface of arrogance. I need to hold a stop and stutter in motion, for the constant tick-tick in time to just pause and to have time to finally survey and understand.

It almost comes as a pleasant surprise when I drop my weapon and spot the girl from eight breathing heavily by herself just before burying her head in her hands. What was it, something Hope? Who cares? All I know is what I see and I like what I see- I suppose she's caught my eye. I need something, anything to turn this rusted reality into an fantasy decorated by wild constellations.

Confidence sewn to my sleeve and across my bleeding heart, I walk to up to her and grin. "Y'know, I could probably teach you a hell of a lot more than any of these trainers could in about double the amount of time and with half the amount of clothing."

It comes almost all too naturally- I think I do this a bit too much.

"Um, what?"

But then she looks up at me from whatever she was looking at with her eyes and a voice that seems somewhat confused, just ever so slightly and I forget I thought anything at all. She definitely heard me and she doesn't have disgust dripping from her tongue like venom so there's no need to gather pieces of my shattered ego and walk away, not yet anyway. "It's nothing," I reply taking a seat next to her, distance just right.

And then I remember - home, win, Styx, Fray. I look down at the book, paying no attention to the words and pictures before looking back up. "I just found it pretty reprehensible that the hottest and prettiest girl in this entire training center is sitting here all by herself, so I just thought I'd fix that."

It worked last time I suppose.

"Did that work on all the girls back in one?"

She grins and blushes, cheeks turning flush with the color of sunset and her giggle is music to my ears. It works so I smile, I've always been good at this after all. This is simple, nothing like holding an axe and hacking at fiction and acting as if it's a tribute screaming, much simpler than blinking and seeing people as nothing but a network of veins and arteries with nothing to define them but kill points. I like this, I like her for now at least.

I need moments like this, I need willing girls like her. Hair that I'd practically kill to get to run my hands through (and I bet it's soft and silky smooth), eccentric, opportune - real and attractive. Perhaps that has something to do with
a four letter surname kissed by fame but strangled by tragedy and the prestige of crossing out such a name before I inevitable meet my end at the end of a crown or death's scythe.

I prefer not to truly question my motives, so I just decide to say that this is just what I need- she's the temporary exit route I'm craving.

So I lean forward and smile, motivation remaining a blurred line. "Perhaps, but why would I care what works on old girls of the past when I've got the cream of the crop to behold right now?"

I pause, subtly retracing vital steps and hoping I'm correct in my assumptions. "I'm Atlas by the way, and you're... Eva?"