[ The angry, raised flesh of his red mark catches Kahlil's notice, as any strange symbol might, distracting him from the sudden waterfall of knives. Sometimes the casual unrealness of Horizon manages to take him aback, especially in a Domain like this which is reasonably mundane by Nayeshi standards. He reaches for one of the knives that clattered out of nowhere, testing the weight and balance in his right hand as he positions himself on the line.
With a flick of his wrist the blade hurtles in a straight line to square a3, black. It hits the board with a satisfying thunk, quivering in place for a second. He picks up a second knife, tossing it in the air once to catch, shifting the blade to his palm before winding it over his shoulder and letting it sail in the half spin, splitting the white square d3.
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Sometimes the casual unrealness of Horizon manages to take him aback, especially in a Domain like this which is reasonably mundane by Nayeshi standards. He reaches for one of the knives that clattered out of nowhere, testing the weight and balance in his right hand as he positions himself on the line.
With a flick of his wrist the blade hurtles in a straight line to square a3, black. It hits the board with a satisfying thunk, quivering in place for a second. He picks up a second knife, tossing it in the air once to catch, shifting the blade to his palm before winding it over his shoulder and letting it sail in the half spin, splitting the white square d3.
A glance at Dean, eyebrow raised. ]
What're you drinking?