| [Jan. 12th, 2011|08:13 pm] |
Steel flashed, jewel-bright, and Tsume stepped to one side and snagged it out of the air, a finger through the hole in the handle. It spun once and settled, dangling from her hand.
Tori made a sound of exasperation as Tsume lifted it, watching the way light slid down the blade like liquid. Not the normal matte steel, this, but a kunai polished until it sang, a waterfall of scrollwork etched down the side in flowing, graceful lines and loops.
Tsume hefted it, checking the weight and balance. It was just a hair smaller than average; for show, she guessed, more than use. But it fit her hand, with good proportions and the proper feel for a bladed weapon. She grinned, quirking one eyebrow up at Asuma. "You planning on needing this? Cub, grab me a holster."
Kiba scampered gleefully toward the back rooms, while Tori gave Asuma a dark look. "Tsume," she said in the voice of the carefully calm, "you aren't really going to take a weapon to a political function, are you?"
"It's ornamental! Look. Scrollwork." She pointed it out almost gleefully, then took the holster Kiba brought out.
"I got the one Dad used to use," he chirped.
"Perfect." It was more for show than anything; flat leather between blade and skin to protect the wearer, with the bare minimum of straps needed to keep the weapon and holster in place while showing off steel. She adjusted it and strapped it on around her thigh, while Tori squawked about her putting her foot on the chair and bemoaned her ever being a proper girl.
She didn't care. She felt significantly more confident. This was the Asuma she knew. She straightened, brushing her skirt down as if it might help make it pants, and looked up. "I suppose we should head out?" At least he didn't smell horny. Actually, he just still smelled like nicotine. |
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