[IV's words die on his lips as he frowns at the odd sight of Mizael appearing so bothered. His gaze wanders back to the young apparition dressed in old clothes behind the Barian. Perhaps, given their current predicament, it isn't odd at all. He can't say that he's been calm around his own apparition.
Reminded of the mess on his hand, IV waves to dry off the blood against the air. He curls his fingers and jabs a thumb over his shoulder.]
It's from him.
[Just then, the apparition mouths off again about entirely untrue things.]
no subject
Reminded of the mess on his hand, IV waves to dry off the blood against the air. He curls his fingers and jabs a thumb over his shoulder.]
It's from him.
[Just then, the apparition mouths off again about entirely untrue things.]