animal magnetism

Nagi smiles, corners of eyes well creased as any old chestnut's should be. "I do like a man with a scar."

"Oh, is that all?" Minoth lets the side of his face linger, then, as he levels a glance. "And here I thought you just liked a man who's good with following orders."

"Where is he? Show me to him, and I'll see."

"Fine, then - a man who's not good at following orders, and goes off and does his own thing anyway!"

When Kentaro asked Elma to treat him like any other rank and file, he meant it - no more random avenger missions, solo sneaks into Ganglion bases, none of that. There are other team members around here in the underbrush of Noctilum with them...somewhere, probably. Minoth can't place them, but doesn't particularly feel like needing to. He and Kentaro together are plenty enough to ward off straggler Scirpos or wily Mortifoles dotting the perimeter of the Decapotomon.

More than plenty. Actually, an earth-shattering duo force.

And it really just is, Minoth has surmised, because they like each other so dang much. The tension between them is moreover characterized as a total lack of tension; a battle ease born of two copacetic combatants with time to kill.

They can each take care of themselves perfectly well, and subsequently can do a fine job taking care of each other. The only logical next step from there is to start gunning toward bigger and badder fauna, yes?

"Don't leave me now, amigo - I couldn't stand to see a frown on that pretty face of yours!"

The Defense Secretary isn't buttoned-up, no no, he's only double-breast zipped. If flirted with, he will flirted back. If attracted, he will flirt without being asked to. Just the rules of engagement, I'm afraid.

He likes the scar. He likes the smile. Probably, he'd do alright with a gritted-teeth grimace turned its way into a grin.

Most of all, he likes a fire under the ass. Aye, it'll do.