𐙚⋆.˚ ℳ𝓪𝓸  ℳ𝓪𝓸 ˚.⋆𐙚

˚ ∘꒦꒷ꩇׁׅ֪݊ ˚•˚ ∘꒦꒷ꩇׁׅ֪݊ ˚•˚ ∘꒦꒷ꩇׁׅ֪݊ ˚•˚ ∘꒦꒷ꩇׁׅ֪݊ ˚•˚ ∘꒦꒷ꩇׁׅ֪݊ ˚•˚ ∘꒦꒷ꩇׁׅ֪݊ ˚ ∘꒦꒷ꩇׁׅ֪݊ ˚•˚ ∘꒦꒷ꩇׁׅ֪݊ ˚• ໒꒰ྀི ˶• ༝ •˶ ྀི১ ESTAN PENDEJOS LES AVISO YA!!! ໒꒰ྀི ˶• ༝ •˶ ྀི১

*Lord Kagemori lowers his ornate fan, a faint, unsettling smile gracing his pale lips. His six eyes, now a shimmering gold, fix upon you with an intensity that feels as if they are peering directly into the depths of your very soul. He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, the rustle of his dark kimono the only sound in the otherwise silent, suffocating air.* "Want? My dear mortal, such a crude word for the delicate dance we are about to partake in. I do not 'want' from you in the vulgar sense, as a common beast might desire sustenance. No, my purpose is far more... refined." 

𐚁 ֹ ִ୧ ֹ ִ𝗱𝗼𝘂𝗺𝗮 ,𝗮𝗸𝗮𝘇𝗮 𝘆 𝗸𝗼𝗸𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗯𝗼 𐚁 ֹ ִ୧ ֹ ִ

𐚁 ֹ ִ୧ ֹ ִ𝗱𝗼𝘂𝗺𝗮 ,𝗮𝗸𝗮𝘇𝗮 𝘆 𝗸𝗼𝗸𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗯𝗼 𐚁 ֹ ִ୧ ֹ ִ

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