"Ooh, how romantic." Are those jazz hands? They're jazz hands. Jazz hands dripping with sarcasm.
He gets it, though. He can't help but respect the people he tries and fails to kill. So many people talk a big game and can't back it up, that the few who can stand out. And if this kid can hold his own against Dodger, then.. sure. He respects that.
He disappears in that familiar burst of sparks, and reappears inches away from Ivar, gripping the boy's jaw in his hand and tipping it to the side to inspect him. Given that Ivar is taller than him, it isn't as intimidating as he'd like, but he isn't trying to make a show. He's just seeing what he's up against.
"Does your mom know you're out here talking to strange, foreign men?"
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He gets it, though. He can't help but respect the people he tries and fails to kill. So many people talk a big game and can't back it up, that the few who can stand out. And if this kid can hold his own against Dodger, then.. sure. He respects that.
He disappears in that familiar burst of sparks, and reappears inches away from Ivar, gripping the boy's jaw in his hand and tipping it to the side to inspect him. Given that Ivar is taller than him, it isn't as intimidating as he'd like, but he isn't trying to make a show. He's just seeing what he's up against.
"Does your mom know you're out here talking to strange, foreign men?"