You don't even know me, [ Tetora whines, belaboring the point even though he himself thinks it's counterproductive. Something about the way SD's talking is making him want to reel back, to run far away and never return. If he weren't bleeding out onto himself, he actually might do it too.
When he turns his hand over, the cuts have started to clot. Too quickly to be normal, certainly, but so far outside the possibilities of human capacity to be instantaneous. Tetora's not Zenitsu, but he killed Zenitsu. Whatever coding had allowed that pale-haired motherfucker to keep coming back, whole and intact, belongs to Tetora now.
Almost self-consciously, he curls his fingers into a loose fist. ]
I told you, I don't need it. You're wasting your supplies.
no subject
When he turns his hand over, the cuts have started to clot. Too quickly to be normal, certainly, but so far outside the possibilities of human capacity to be instantaneous. Tetora's not Zenitsu, but he killed Zenitsu. Whatever coding had allowed that pale-haired motherfucker to keep coming back, whole and intact, belongs to Tetora now.
Almost self-consciously, he curls his fingers into a loose fist. ]
I told you, I don't need it. You're wasting your supplies.