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conflagrationsstyle.

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“Good thing I consider myself more than human, huh? No psionics, raised in these odd packs of the same genetics, I think humans are the weaker race here.” She’s adamant about that much, while her fingers become occupied with spinning a small, curiously shaped ring around her middle finger on her left hand. “Waging war constantly… Waging a war among humans and my kin… among the supernatural… no, I think I’m rather strong, lady.”

With a sharp flick of her wrists, Tharia throws her arms out and lets out a small laugh. “I am Tharia Rurrio, and I am The Chosen Rogue of Blood! You can’t even compare to me, we aren’t the same thing. Besides, while It’s very clear that you and I have very different goals… and very different purposes. After all, mine is of universe-crafting destiny, while you’re, uh… very bright and clothing-oriented.“ 

         “IF YOU ARE NOT HUMAN…” _{She trailed, her lips curled into a smile of strained bemusement. Her hands raise, fingers curled lightly upwards, before she MOVES, quicker on her heels than one might have supposed. The CLACKS felt damning to any who might have heard them, and which ROSE above the natural din in a way that was UNNATURAL. This was the movement of a BEING, the movement of one unencumbered by the demands of the NATURAL WORLD. Her hands reach, grab, TUG the front of the clothes she wears.}

          _{“THEN YOU DO NOT DESERVE TO BE WORN BY HUMAN CLOTHING!”} 

           _{She rips the clothes from her body. REVOCS, for all its might, was the mass distributor of clothing – and the LIFE FIBERS bent to her own will, allowing her to move and take as she so desired. To tear the clothes off the body of any and all who dared to disrespect or denigrate either her or her POWER. RAGYO KIRYUIN holds it, the clothing still intact, despite being TORN from the woman in such a BRUTAL fashion. But those who treated clothing as something that could be simply worn… they deserved the BRUTALITY of RAGYO KIRYUIN!}