Miho and Yukari
If it wasn't for her mother's brutal training, Miho would have been a dead woman right now.
The ball launched at such a high velocity it had a distinct whistle as it broke the sound barrier. Her mind, for the split moment it had happened, mistook it for a vanquisher cannon shell and she instinctively shaped her body into a "C" to dodge it. Meanwhile, Yukari's already messy hair was made even wilder from the sonic boom rippling through the room.
The cue ball shot through the room, creating its own exit behind the bar. All the chattering, laughing, and joking in the pub quickly came to a halt as all the patrons tried to register what just happened. For a few moments there, the establishment was so quiet that one could hear a pin drop...
Then a squirrel woman burst through the door, admonishment shouting from her lips and a destroyed cue ball in hand.
"You, uh...You wanna call it a tie?" Yukari offered once she found her voice.
Costin"Sure, sure." Costin yawned casually, leaving the poor whelp with the stick and the weight it carried. Honestly, he couldn't care less if she won or not - seeing their faces turn pale like that was goddamn hilarious. It almost made all those past years worth it. Almost. "You've dodged it though. Not bad, kid. You know, maybe next time I'll try twice as hard." He patted Yukari on the head patronizingly - as if she suddenly became his little sister.
Until a sudden sensation assailed him. A feeling. A... smell, a familiar one somehow. One that made his fangs grow and his impulses burn. His features suddenly burnt with a dark shadow, one that rippled his muscles into a single unified shape.
A smile."Yeah, suure. But it didn't, so this is this, and that's that. Man, you mortals sure know how to say the dumbest stuff." He jovially trampled the new one's pride, the one that smelled of beasts. Why else would he be swaggering up to the hole of his own making? And ignoring others complaints, fear, or objection, he put a sliced his palm open with a claw before laying it on the broken wall. Red lines began to crawl across the shattered rock, and a strange cold feeling grew from his presence. Like a cold blade against your skin.
Soon, the cracks and debris began to levitate, as if controlled by the red lines, and were swallowed back into the hole until it regained something resembling its original shape, repairing the destruction as if it meant nothing to its maker.
"Tadaam. See?" He fixed his tie and hair casually. "No fuss, no muss. If that's not a happy ending, I don't know what is."
