Napoli Fiordilatte - Pressure Cooker
A glare was shot Gratia's way.
The young duelist was not in a particularly good mood to begin with, and Gratia's haughty attitude was the last thing he had any desire to endure. For some reason the bitch still had it stuck in her skull that she was some unparalleled huntress and that he was nothing more than dirt. Normally Napoli wouldn't be all that fazed, Gratia's arrogance was something he'd come to terms with it, but with Bianca's life on the line one would think that now would be the moment she could set aside her ego and actually have some level of decency.
But no, Gratia Mindaro thought she was so special.
He was pretty damn sick of her attitude.
"Is that supposed to be some halfassed attempt to rile me up? Get off your fucking high horse Gratia. Bianca's been kidnapped and I don't need some patronizing speech while you're trying to disguise the fact that you desperately need my help. Contrary to what appears to be running through that thick skull of yours, you're not some wargoddess leagues above my own, as you put it, 'mediocre' abilities."
"So," the Mistrali's eyes narrowed, "I'm gonna put this the nicest way possible. If you don't have anything helpful to add, then kindly shut the fuck up."
Diverting his attention to more important matters, Napoli faced his leader.
"Vega, I'm gonna say this once, but I'm not risking any attempts at stealth from you. So I don't care if you think you can pull it off, this is not the mission to test that theory. As for the other idea," Napoli began as he threw Scapino to Beryl, "Knock yourself out."
