Night 58: Main Hallway, 1-West
[ from here ]
Sesshoumaru had not been in the building for nearly long enough to really know it, and his knowledge had not been expanded yesterday as it might otherwise have been, because of the poisons that had been fed into his system - poisons that somehow worked, which had been a disconcerting and unpleasant experience. In the end, though, all it meant was that he had one more person to kill - whoever it was who had invented the poison capable of subduing him.
He either avoided or ignored the memory of last night, of Niikura telling him he might as well be a human now. Avoided thinking of how weak he had become.
Sesshoumaru absently flexed his fingers, and felt his poison began to pump. If he was not still immune to toxins, surely his own venom would burn him, sear his veins and his hands, but it did not appear to have any more affect on him than it had ever. Just like always, the poison might as well have been blood, or water, for all the harm it did to him personally. This was not a double-edged sword. It was designed to harm others, not the wielder.
A thread of sweetness curled through the bite of the cleaner as Sesshoumaru stood for a moment, his claws becoming saturated with their natural poison. In any case, claiming that he was - that he could be - so weak as that was ridiculous. He was Sesshoumaru.
[ for Terra ]
Sesshoumaru had not been in the building for nearly long enough to really know it, and his knowledge had not been expanded yesterday as it might otherwise have been, because of the poisons that had been fed into his system - poisons that somehow worked, which had been a disconcerting and unpleasant experience. In the end, though, all it meant was that he had one more person to kill - whoever it was who had invented the poison capable of subduing him.
He either avoided or ignored the memory of last night, of Niikura telling him he might as well be a human now. Avoided thinking of how weak he had become.
Sesshoumaru absently flexed his fingers, and felt his poison began to pump. If he was not still immune to toxins, surely his own venom would burn him, sear his veins and his hands, but it did not appear to have any more affect on him than it had ever. Just like always, the poison might as well have been blood, or water, for all the harm it did to him personally. This was not a double-edged sword. It was designed to harm others, not the wielder.
A thread of sweetness curled through the bite of the cleaner as Sesshoumaru stood for a moment, his claws becoming saturated with their natural poison. In any case, claiming that he was - that he could be - so weak as that was ridiculous. He was Sesshoumaru.
[ for Terra ]