Crime and Punishment
Venom, Hattori, Kitsune, Takeshi
Marauder
Bloodletter
08-13-2021, 04:11 PM
Hattori could sense Toxicity pushing at the boundaries, chomping at the restraints of her rank to see how far she could stretch it out. Perhaps if she was acting within reason and not so overzealous about a matter as base as religion then Venom would hear her out, follow her recommendations and foster a better relationship. But it seemed a little too late for that, both were clearly at odds with one another's perspective on how things ought to be handled around here. Though Hattori would hardly call Toxicity a friend he'd offered her a degree of respect warranted by her rank and relationship to his wife, but all of that was crumbling away. There was little that got under his skin, around here there was an unspoken rule that even the inbred bastard Chimera respected: Venom's word was final. And if she said no then that was the end of the conversation.
The Shogun's gaze wandered to his children, to how needlessly worked up and distressed they'd gotten. He was not a doting father, nor the sort to comfort them with warm embraces or tender words, but there was no need for them to see this.
"Children, you are dismissed. " He rumbled in his native tongue, barely sparing them a glance. He knew their Grandmother was more than capable of comforting them if need be, the children were capable of figuring out if they needed such a thing or their own. Hattori would not spoon-feed them.
His steely gaze returned to Toxicity, cold, almost lifeless in its blank slate. There was no rage in his expression, no curling of his lips or furrowing of his brows. His anger, whilst warranted, was not so easily drawn out or to put it quite bluntly; Toxicity simply was not worth it. He shifted his stance, stepping back a little to give his wife the space she needed. Despite the initial temptation, the Shogun would not fight her battles. This was a family affair and Hattori always made a point of not sticking his nose in where it did not belong. The Abraxas faith was not something he cared to shed blood over, nor did he care to listen to the ramblings of a woman who refused to let go of stories that had long since faded into obscurity and impertinence.
Abraxas or not Toxicity would be reminded of her place.
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