[That actually prompts her to push her chair back with a painful metallic screech, slamming both her palms, one flesh-colored and the other black and gold onto the table as she stands, over-turning her drink in her haste.
Roman Torchwick has no right to talk about what's fair. Not when Pyrrha, Penny, Ozpin, and so many others died because of whatever the hell he was involved in.
Speaking of dying...]
You got off easy.
[The spilled lemonade on the table starts to bubble like it's boiling.]
no subject
[That actually prompts her to push her chair back with a painful metallic screech, slamming both her palms, one flesh-colored and the other black and gold onto the table as she stands, over-turning her drink in her haste.
Roman Torchwick has no right to talk about what's fair. Not when Pyrrha, Penny, Ozpin, and so many others died because of whatever the hell he was involved in.
Speaking of dying...]
You got off easy.
[The spilled lemonade on the table starts to bubble like it's boiling.]