[ Mikoto is a brawler. He fights with nothing but his fists. Yet, watching him twist through the air like a dancer, it almost seems like the fight might be staged, yet there's too much force behind his blows, his targets vanishing one after the other amid the destructive red flame that burns them into nothing. Here is the Red King in his element, fighting to let some of the pressure out, fighting because that's all he knows how to do, all that comes naturally. Yet, engrossed as he is he in his need to attack he's not such a novice to let the god nearby go unnoticed. But he doesn't stop. Not yet, he still needs to let out more and fightings the only out he has. When he finally comes to a stop, it's not because he's satisfied but because there's nothing left to destroy. ]
.....
[ He turns to face the god then, and an idea sparks to life as he smirks. ]
Want to take their spot.
[ Because right now, he needs the outlet, right now there's nothing but red waiting for him. ]
no subject
.....
[ He turns to face the god then, and an idea sparks to life as he smirks. ]
Want to take their spot.
[ Because right now, he needs the outlet, right now there's nothing but red waiting for him. ]