How strange that after all this time... she's still angry.
But of course she would be— even in the throes of intoxicated abandon she still holds fast to her true self: the woman who would gladly stab into the heart of any prostrating oni regardless if it was guilty or not. She was still the demon slayer who was too weak to cut the head off an oni but was still driven enough to create her own poisons in order to destroy them— slowly, cruelly and without mercy.
Of course she's still angry—]
Ah!
[Of course she still wants to kill this oni—]
You—
[Then why... why was she still— ah, dammit.
Shinobu groans the words without realizing, her eyes still squeezes shut as those plush thighs squeeze about her hips and bring her closer to that intensifying warmth. It's a truly enticing sensation— one she never imagined she would experience in such a place... and never with the likes of an oni. But now moisture gathers at her neck, beads at her brow and makes her fingers tighten around those wrists.
Fruits and sake. Alcohol and lacquer. Sandalwood and peaches. How could someone who often bathed in blood... have such a fragrance to them?
Her fingers squeeze again. She wants to strangle her, suffocate her— this demon with a silky tongue and soft searching lips—
Don't be fooled!
Idiot!
Shinobu rips away from the oni, a gasp breaking through her lips as she finally surfaces from the depths of the oni's spell. Air comes in deep heaving pants, ragged through her throat as she pins Shuten with an incredulous glare, her face burning bright scarlet. Her lip still burns but it's a secondary pain at this point, almost in the background as she forces herself to clear her head of the phantom mist they were both assuredly drowning in. She...
What... was she doing again?
"You were so eager for me to have your blood ..."]
... Haaaah.
[Comes the long winded sound of exasperation, her chest deflating slowly as she raises one hand to wipe the corner of her lips, smearing the drying stain of red there.] Ahahaha.... you nearly had me there.
Miss.
[Even as she still lingers above her Shinobu doesn't move yet— her gaze gradually clearing yet as intensely bright as ever— two glasses tipped at an angle to catch the full glow of the moon. Her smile returns, faint yet heavy, as though the secrets of tonight and all of its intricacies had just been revealed to her.]
That being said, don't you think you've had your fill for tonight...?
[With both hands now free from the floor they hover, ever so slightly, before coming to finally rest on the decorated heads of the oni's knee guards. Shinobu sucks in air, silently— inhales the iron scent of blood and rain and keeps it within her chest.
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How strange that after all this time... she's still angry.
But of course she would be— even in the throes of intoxicated abandon she still holds fast to her true self: the woman who would gladly stab into the heart of any prostrating oni regardless if it was guilty or not. She was still the demon slayer who was too weak to cut the head off an oni but was still driven enough to create her own poisons in order to destroy them— slowly, cruelly and without mercy.
Of course she's still angry—]
Ah!
[Of course she still wants to kill this oni—]
You—
[Then why... why was she still— ah, dammit.
Shinobu groans the words without realizing, her eyes still squeezes shut as those plush thighs squeeze about her hips and bring her closer to that intensifying warmth. It's a truly enticing sensation— one she never imagined she would experience in such a place... and never with the likes of an oni. But now moisture gathers at her neck, beads at her brow and makes her fingers tighten around those wrists.
Fruits and sake. Alcohol and lacquer. Sandalwood and peaches. How could someone who often bathed in blood... have such a fragrance to them?
Her fingers squeeze again. She wants to strangle her, suffocate her— this demon with a silky tongue and soft searching lips—
Don't be fooled!
Idiot!
Shinobu rips away from the oni, a gasp breaking through her lips as she finally surfaces from the depths of the oni's spell. Air comes in deep heaving pants, ragged through her throat as she pins Shuten with an incredulous glare, her face burning bright scarlet. Her lip still burns but it's a secondary pain at this point, almost in the background as she forces herself to clear her head of the phantom mist they were both assuredly drowning in. She...
What... was she doing again?
"You were so eager for me to have your blood ..."]
... Haaaah.
[Comes the long winded sound of exasperation, her chest deflating slowly as she raises one hand to wipe the corner of her lips, smearing the drying stain of red there.] Ahahaha.... you nearly had me there.
Miss.
[Even as she still lingers above her Shinobu doesn't move yet— her gaze gradually clearing yet as intensely bright as ever— two glasses tipped at an angle to catch the full glow of the moon. Her smile returns, faint yet heavy, as though the secrets of tonight and all of its intricacies had just been revealed to her.]
That being said, don't you think you've had your fill for tonight...?
[With both hands now free from the floor they hover, ever so slightly, before coming to finally rest on the decorated heads of the oni's knee guards. Shinobu sucks in air, silently— inhales the iron scent of blood and rain and keeps it within her chest.
She becomes still. So very, very still.]
Enough.
[I must stop here... or else.]