Oh? [Mikazuki's disagreement is something Takasugi savors when he's fortunate enough to be treated with it. The boy can be like a weapon, himself, moving as deadly as a blade at Takasugi's whim. So when he balks, dampened but resolute, Takasugi pauses.
It does no one any good dulling their sword against an impassable bulwark.
He rests an arm on the back of the cockpit's chair, a posture that might put him in Mikazuki's way, but any need of motion he acquiesces to with a sway of his body. The implements produced look nothing out of the ordinary; cables are the veins of all machines but the simplest children's toys.]
no subject
It does no one any good dulling their sword against an impassable bulwark.
He rests an arm on the back of the cockpit's chair, a posture that might put him in Mikazuki's way, but any need of motion he acquiesces to with a sway of his body. The implements produced look nothing out of the ordinary; cables are the veins of all machines but the simplest children's toys.]
What's this?