[center] [h1] [color=662d91]Yoshikage Kira [/color][/h1] Contrary to most of his fellow captives, Yoshikage Kira's focus was trained squarely on the woman who had invited them - or coaxed them, rather - from their cage, like mangy dogs being beckoned with a hunk of meat. As he laid eyes on her, he found his breathing catching in his throat, and he began to squeeze his hands into tight fists as if fearful of what would happen if he did not. He felt his nails, marching ever onward, growing and growing, limitless potential with nowhere for it to go. As she opened the cell door, where most would be met with relief, Kira was met with naught but tension, every fibre of his being craving naught more than to wind his hands around her divine throat, skin white as the driven snow and glistening as if laced with diamonds, and wring the life from her body with his own two hands. The first time he had taken a life was when he was just a boy, and yet, the high had never dwindled, the needle never dulled, the thrill never stopped. Only... [i]grew...[/i] But now was not the time to succumb to such base urges. Yoshikage Kira's art was one of discipline first and foremost, and discipline, he would have. He made to control his erratic breathing, calming his heart rate in turn and stowing his hands in his jacket pockets, vowing to keep them there until she was out of sight. A muse so great, to slip from his grasp... no greater tragedy was there, in this. No greater tragedy than the folly of Kira, a jester's mask forced onto his face that his heart would be hidden, locked away for none to see. But they would see, sooner or later. If he was able, he would make a point of visiting her personally. Yoshikage Kira never forgot a pretty face, so was the duty of a gentleman. Dead silent, Kira swept his eyes over the room, utterly disinterested and eyes hanging half-shut. In stark contrast to most, he appeared utterly unimpressed by his captor - so much so that, while others may have chastised Luthor or made grandiose gestures, Kira simply made his way to a luxurious seat and sat down, lifting a bottle from the table and pouring himself a drink. Wordlessly, he took a sip, leaned back in his seat, crossed a leg over the other and watched on, the sun shining through the liquid and staining his skin a warm amber. [color=662d91]"Much to go over, hmm?"[/color] Kira enunciated to no one in particular, swirling his drink in its glass. [color=662d91]"We'd best get to it, then. No use in delaying, wouldn't you agree?"[/color] [/center]