Vein of Ice [Catherine, Isamu]

Her eyes felt like they were going to fall out of her skull with how hard she was glaring daggers into the man. Fingers trembled, teeth rhythmically knocked together behind her dried lips as her rigid posture was the only thing keeping her upright. A delusion or two told her to stab him, stab him before he had the chance to do anything, gut him like the animal he would be to have performed the myriad of imaginary scenarios wrenching her thoughts from logic and reason. The beat of a heart chaotically pounded her aching skull, blood burned in her itching flesh like venom, adrenaline pushing her to do it, do it, do it before he can do anything to hurt her and make her hate herself all the more.

He moved, she was an idiot to hesitate. The blade rose to slice his throat as she bobbed out of the incoming grab, but she was caught off guard by the chop to her throat, dropping her weapon as she coughed and staggered, the sensation of being grabbed and lifted rattling her body with unspeakable terror that could only be conveyed with a bloodcurdling scream, sounding like she damn well shredded her vocal cords as her trembling hands beat against his back and legs kicked his front, twisting and squirming to escape his grasp.

Scenarios upon scenarios upon scenarios upon scenarios infested her fear-riddled brain, sickening her body, making her wrought with panic as she even went as far as to twist her head to bite his upper arm with all she could, before she felt herself fly, and land someplace cold with a painful thud. Was she in a pit of snakes? Insects? Did something eat her? Her eyes looked around wildly as they adjusted to the sight, the gleam of light on gently flowing water causing her to calm some, the cold of the current washing her filth away even more so.

She was floating on her back in the river, red locks gently carried along. Her eyes looked to Isamu, confused and growingly tired, "..What's.. What are you doing..?"

'Ruining a good pair of clothes to help your crazy ass.What else?"

He responded, floating at her side as he exhaled softly. There was no immediate answer he had to offer, resorting to his typical air of nonchalance as he always did. Normally, that was always his default reaction. Here? He supposed there was little harm in offering honest words. Running a hand through his hair, he gazed back at her as he momentarily relaxed within the cold embrace of the river.

"I might be a lecherous bastard who can't keep it in his pants, but I'm not heartless. Like I said, you're a fun rival. You keep me honest. With you in the game, I can't let my guard down, or I'm out of a paycheck for a few months. I'm constantly refinin' my game to make ensure I ain't fallin' behind. Don't quite fancy the thought of losin' my rival to some fuckin' hollow venom."

There were many shades of this woman he was unaware of, with this particular incident being a first. Even so, did that particularly encompass how he truly felt? He was never one to indulge the idea of friendship, and most would've considered it foolish to help his so-called "competition", but he didn't care about any of that. Catherine was amusing to him. She detested his behavior, condoned none of it, and insulted him at every turn. Compared to how he could so effortlessly ease his way into the average woman's heart? That was a nice change of pace.

Heartbeats slowed with the calming sensation of chill water running along her flesh, her clothes undoubtedly soaked, but she didn't really seem to care or make much of a stink - she was thankful for the surprise dunk on some level she wouldn't consciously express, dull eyes looking to the man whom she was just losing her mind trying to escape from, whom she had just conjured a million scenarios in which he performed things, terrible to heinous, just to get rid of her. Confusion melted her stony gaze, clearly hearing his expression this time, of what he actually felt and thought of her. No way.. That couldn't be true, nobody in this body of work should be anywhere near ready to throw themselves out for their competition - if she simply vanished that just meant more money for him, more jobs, more everything.

"I'm not going to die, you slobby jackass.." She'd tiredly snap back, realizing she only didn't sink or float away because of him. A sustained moment of silence would then prompt her words again, "I... I just overdid it. I think I took a dose too early.. O-or something..."

Slow breaths, she was made to relax, her nerves finally stopped screaming, "Just... Give me five minutes. You're not getting cred for the corpse, so don't... Even think about touching it..."

"Whatever ya say, princess. For a second there, you frightened this slobby jackass with all these wild ramblings about being better than you and puttin' babies in ya. Which, don't get me wrong, you're cute, but like... we haven't even gone to dinner yet, ya know?"

Isamu wasted little time in returning to that casual air of nonchalance he typically carried himself with. Inwardly, he was somewhat relieved that their mutual dive into the river merited a more calm-minded version of the woman he was accustomed to. That is, the sharp-tongued, ever-insulting ginger-haired woman who was giving him an earful, and telling him not to steal her prize. Which, truth be told, suited him just fine. He hadn't arrived on the scene with that intent, anyway, so little was his disappointment on the matter. Reaching up, he ruffled her hair with a grin as he slowly let his arm fall away from the hem of her outfit.

"I get to take credit for somethin' far better. I finally got you wet," he quipped with a shit-eating grin. He couldn't resist the moment for innuendo, and it was certainly fitting, even if it meant she might strike him across the head or kick him where the sun didn't shine. Calculated risks, and being bad with math, and all that jazz.

A look of irritation broke on her tired expression, the motion of water flowing across her pale skin and wet clothes with ease as she was forced to look at this slack-jawed idiot's face, said idiot now bringing some level of comfort despite her instincts arguing otherwise. Normally she'd determine this to be a dangerous position to rest in, but right now she was too cold and frazzled to give a shit. With shut eyes, she'd struggle a sentence out, "..Forget you e-ever heard that..."

Though his little joke about finally getting her wet didn't trigger her to punch or kick him. She felt too stiff to do any of that. She just wanted to relax and get back to her kill - there was always next time for nailing him in the balls.