unkillableteacher.

    “I’m afraid not,” he replied with a monotone. His usually goody voice growing a bit darker and deeper. Whenever he met someone that brushed him the wrong way, and didn’t have the scent of a human, he would be on his toes. Those who weren’t not human– if they had powers, they could injure him as well as the anti-sensei weapons… And that wasn’t on his schedule. No he wanted to be killed by his students.

    Seems that they share a small bi of the same emotion. The yellow skinned being changed color with emotions. Yellow was always his neutral color. The only time one had to worry and fear for their lives was when he turned pitch black. But that only showed if one harmed his students or demon.

   Even with the dazzling light, he showed no fear. Every day– every moment, could be his last. Students and teachers– anyone, was out to kill him before he destroyed their precious world.

    “A pleasure to meet you, miss Ragyo,” he said, offering her a deep bow. Bet to stay on this female’s good side. He could tell that he definitely not to get on her bad side. But it worse came to worse, his outrageous speed could get him away.

   He’s never heard of this Revoc, but he was far away from here. “I’m afraid that I’ve never heard such a thing. I’m a bit ways away from home.” It would only take him a half hour to get back to his house from here.

   His clothing was probably strange to her– he made it himself. To teach properly and look like a teacher. Though, he did have other outfits that was possible made by this company. As well as his students. 

             THERE WAS A SENSE of pleasure to derive from being bowed to. From being TREATED as an empress, treated as though the ground she trespassed on would and COULD so easily turn to expensive Mulberry Silk; at his bow, RAGYO KIRYUIN smiled, eyes lightly closed as though to give off the ALOOF BRILLIANCE of a ruler whose insatiable desires had been properly met. The harsh light that seemed to emanate always from behind her being relaxed, as if SENTIENT to her whims. The back of RAGYO KIRYUIN straightened, still.

                 The man was assuredly strange to her. She had neither met anyone whose BODY was as odd as his, or who wasn’t aware of the BREADTH of the Kiryuin Conglomerate’s power, which stretched across the world like a long-fingered talon, grasping the EARTH and holding it hostage through the mere power of something as simple as CLOTHING and the GREED for clothing, the desire to appear to the world as more than one was, while still being a SLAVE to the very threads woven into what one wore themselves.

               “I am SURPRISED that you wouldn’t know of REVOCS,” She says. “But la vie est drole, as they say. Life is FUNNY.” 

               Yes. Life was eternally amusing, and she was eternally AMUSED by it. RAGYO KIRYUIN settles on her heels – those which never make her feet ache, and who seem to wear HER more than she wears them. Unlike her daughter, RAGYO KIRYUIN was not in the business of making her clothes SUBMIT to her form. Instead, she was both worn by her shoes and she wore them. It seemed to the be the case with ALL that she wore – a harmony with the clothing that could not even hope to be ACHIEVED by any but herself.

             “We CONTROL 90% of the MARKET. Where the money of REVOCS goes, the WORLD follows!”