[ He recognizes when the other's eyes narrow, solely because he knows for a fact he makes that same face when he's trying to assess a threat. It's uncanny, really: the other is just on edge as he is, the only difference is that the Darkling counters by tilting his chin upwards, face impassive. A Tailor, perhaps, sculpting a stranger to have his face. It wouldn't be unheard of. He has half a mind to wonder if Genya Safin is around here, roaming the village, though the other option being simpler: that they both merely look alike. He finds that worse.
Either way, it doesn't sit well with him, although he does have to admit the similarities. While the Darkling's kefta is scuffed and battered, he's doing a fair bit better than how his 'twin' seemed to be doing. ]
A stalemate I'm more than willing to break. Kirigan. [ His introduction is simple, smooth, though he doesn't extend a hand. He looks pointedly at the blood on the other's clothes, his brow raised. ]
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Either way, it doesn't sit well with him, although he does have to admit the similarities. While the Darkling's kefta is scuffed and battered, he's doing a fair bit better than how his 'twin' seemed to be doing. ]
A stalemate I'm more than willing to break. Kirigan. [ His introduction is simple, smooth, though he doesn't extend a hand. He looks pointedly at the blood on the other's clothes, his brow raised. ]