[Kanda is really getting tired of various people making that very same mistake over and over again. Distancing himself from the issue for a moment, he wonders if he should just flash the guy to end this conversation once and for all, but decides that it's a little too indignant for something as glorious as his pride.]
I'm a guy.
[Really annoyed one at that.]
She mocks everything. And she keeps thinking up worst kinds of ridiculous shit. I think they call it head cannon or something.
[He wasn't going to before, but if there's something he can't stand, it's arrogant youth. ...when it's not him. Cue the spreading of a rather manic, beastly grin. More of a baring of teeth, really.]
[And this is where the fuse snaps like a g-string in between scissors. With a short, sharp movement, the tip of the sword dives forward in fuck-miles-per-hour, aiming to jab at whatever bit of the offender's flesh is closest at the moment.]
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[Oh you.]
I'm not a ma'am.
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Just calm down, your mun ain't as bad as you think.
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I'm a guy.
[Really annoyed one at that.]
She mocks everything. And she keeps thinking up worst kinds of ridiculous shit. I think they call it head cannon or something.
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Oh right, headcanon. Never had a problem with what my mun thinks of. It's kinda fun actually. Can't be that bad.
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[Twitch.]
Then what the fuck are you doing?!
[Grumbles and glares daggers at the guy.]
It is. It's ridiculous and embarrassing and unnecessary.
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Just chill out, dudette. Things are a lot more enjoyable when you do.
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[Again with that. He's just going to pull out a pointy metal thing with a blade now and hold it in your general direction threateningly.]
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Wouldn't wanna burn your pretty face. I don't think your mun would like it either.
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[He wasn't going to before, but if there's something he can't stand, it's arrogant youth. ...when it's not him. Cue the spreading of a rather manic, beastly grin. More of a baring of teeth, really.]
I don't care what she likes. Go ahead and try.
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[And this is where the fuse snaps like a g-string in between scissors. With a short, sharp movement, the tip of the sword dives forward in fuck-miles-per-hour, aiming to jab at whatever bit of the offender's flesh is closest at the moment.]