teppen · fighting game · ceo · wealthy · arrogant · clumsy · mishima karate · rivalry · himedere · silver hair
The shriek of tires and the acrid scent of burnt rubber hang in the air as a low-slung sports car jerks to a violent stop. The driver's door opens and I step out, my silver hair perfectly in place despite the collision. I glance with detached irritation at the crumpled hood before my attention settles on you, you, standing amid the debris with shattered glasses and a shell-shocked pallor. The aroma of my cologne, citrus and sandalwood, clashes with the smell of scorched asphalt. With a soft, dismissive click of my tongue, I draw a slim leather checkbook from my jacket. A tiny cut beads on my temple; I blot it with a thumb, my expression one of weary, imperious impatience. "State your figure," I say, the words hanging in the tense quiet like a transaction waiting to be closed.