[Mukuro had been doing this for so long that he had it down to an art. Souls close to damnation all but gave off a certain scent, like meat close to a roasting fire. The smell of it was enough to make Mukuro's mouth water, and he had always found those souls the most delicious. The ones right on the cusp of damnation, but still clinging with weary fingers to salvation. Pushing them off the edge required a delicate touch, and the priest would be more unwieldy than most. And yet...
Careful not to touch him, Mukuro leaned forward, a small smirk unfurling on his lips.]
no subject
Careful not to touch him, Mukuro leaned forward, a small smirk unfurling on his lips.]
You wouldn't be alone anymore, Chikusa Kakimoto.
[A promise and a curse, all rolled into one.]