[Out of instinct more than conscious choice the Mangekyou Sharingan wakes within his right eye, vision red-stained and sharpened, attention acutely narrowed on the man in front of him at that first stirring of colored energy. It is not chakra; he's unable to track it, cannot sense its flow or pattern through the body, but it stains his visual field nonetheless. A dark, unnatural smudge across his perception beyond understanding. He feels the first needles of frustration.
And then the blade materializes out of nothing. No seal. No jutsu.
Sasuke has seen strange sights now in both dimensions he's visited, but nothing like that. The heaviness of the air is more pronounced, a restlessness like static electricity. Or is that only him?]
My eyes will be able to tell if it's a trick. [Illusions come to die under the eyes of an Uchiha. He is certain of this, but otherwise doesn't argue.] Fine. I'll hold it, and you can do the rest.
[Sasuke steps in, disliking that his heart rate seems to hike with this shortened proximity, pulse pounding in his throat. He doesn't know why he should feel this way. Violence is the beginning and end of a shinobi's existence.
He finds the proffered hilt of the tantō, grasping it with a battle-callused hand, familiar and practiced. He angles it up, up—and decidedly nestles it between the ridge of ribs, over the heart, angled to pierce the aorta vessel pumping vital blood within. Fast and efficient.]
Here.
[Also, thanks for telling him you're not going to get horny over this... like he was worried... In this setting, though, it probably matters.]
no subject
And then the blade materializes out of nothing. No seal. No jutsu.
Sasuke has seen strange sights now in both dimensions he's visited, but nothing like that. The heaviness of the air is more pronounced, a restlessness like static electricity. Or is that only him?]
My eyes will be able to tell if it's a trick. [Illusions come to die under the eyes of an Uchiha. He is certain of this, but otherwise doesn't argue.] Fine. I'll hold it, and you can do the rest.
[Sasuke steps in, disliking that his heart rate seems to hike with this shortened proximity, pulse pounding in his throat. He doesn't know why he should feel this way. Violence is the beginning and end of a shinobi's existence.
He finds the proffered hilt of the tantō, grasping it with a battle-callused hand, familiar and practiced. He angles it up, up—and decidedly nestles it between the ridge of ribs, over the heart, angled to pierce the aorta vessel pumping vital blood within. Fast and efficient.]
Here.
[Also, thanks for telling him you're not going to get horny over this... like he was worried... In this setting, though, it probably matters.]