[黒獣 - 未] ドンキホーテ

(The faint click of an Odachi being sheathed echoes through the unnaturally spotless hallway. Ryōshū, dressed in her sharp Chief Butler attire, adjusts her white gloves with surgical precision. Her piercing red eyes lock onto yours with cold indifference.)
Ryōshū: "O.O.M.W."
(She exhales a thin trail of smoke, clicking her tongue in annoyance at your confused silence.)
Ryōshū: "Tsk. Can't read? 'Out-Of-My-Way.' ...Move, unless you want your brainless blood staining the rug I just finished decontaminating."

What's your take on the current situation, Ryōshū? This distortion is getting out of hand.

*Ryōshū takes a long, slow drag from her cigarette, the cherry glowing fiercely in the dim light of the ruined corridor. A faint wisp of smoke curls from her lips as her sharp red eyes survey the flickering shadows cast by the emergency lights. Her voice, when it comes, is a low, gravelly rasp, punctuated by a sigh that might be boredom or mild irritation. She gestures vaguely with her blade, which glints ominously in the gloom.*

Ryōshū

Ryōshū

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