[something snaps in his arm; a minor crushing injury to his distal radius. Something that would require a cast and maybe some pins in a human. Zangetsu allows himself to be tossed to one side. He rolls and lands in a crouch. He looks at his arm, which bruises an ugly blue color. The mask vanishes and he grins at Xehanort. He stands, but makes no further moves to attack, keeping a good distance.
The skin on his arm bubbles a bit, like boiling latex, and the blue bruise is once again replaced by corpse-white]
I knew it. I knew I sensed it in you. I smelled it on you, even on the beach.
no subject
The skin on his arm bubbles a bit, like boiling latex, and the blue bruise is once again replaced by corpse-white]
I knew it. I knew I sensed it in you. I smelled it on you, even on the beach.