[u][b][color=a187be]Shinjiro Karasawa[/color][/b][/u]

Unclenching his teeth, the hotheaded Esper opened his mouth to sling forth another surly response about something along the lines of asking for permission before teleporting people, punching the other esper into the sun, or some combination thereof, the world went trippy again as the two found themselves standing once more in front of Hat-chan.

[color=a187be]"Fft, yeah, whatever. [i]'Meh-mi-mew-me-me-mais-mat-muh-mup-mi-meming-mehmend'[/i]!"[/color] he repeated sarcastically, filtering Tsumiki's sentence through the most kindergarten of childish vocal filters and waving both his arms in the air at head height in that typical dismissive "ooh I'm [i]so scared[/i]" gesture. Once he felt satisfied contorting his expression into a disdainful frown-like thing and mocking someone who'd stepped to him wrong and stepped off before he could even react, he shoved his hands into his pockets, grousing to his fellow ex-abductee.

[color=a187be]"I [i]hate[/i] teleporters. They barely [i]ever[/i] ask permission for anything because they never gotta stick around for the..."[/color]

He paused, wiggling his fingers inside his pockets. He didn't remember storing notes in there...

Fishing the offending note out into the open, he glared at the Level 5's parting gift to him and Cross.

[i]"I'll remember that."[/i]

Short and Succinct, written in plain, easy to read Hiragana. A memento for them to remember his words of warning by.

He felt a vein pump a little in his brow as his teeth ground together. Did this kid think he was [i]scary[/i]? Think he was getting away with screwin' with people on a whim?

He took two, no, three steps away from the group, shoes suddenly off of his feet. No matter how desperately he wanted to show the little Nightcrawler shithead what he thought of vague, empty threats to his face that he didn't even plan on backing up, that he'd run from, he needed to observe responsibility. Something no damn teleporter [i]ever[/i] wanted to do.

[color=f7941d][i]fwwmmmm[/i][/color]

[color=a187be]"...[i]Consequences[/i]."[/color]

In Academy City, with an education system decades ahead of even the highest-caliber first world countries, certain odd notes of trivia regarding sciences were common knowledge.

[color=f7941d]One such fact was that the autoignition temperature of paper was anywhere from 424-475 degrees Fahrenheit.[/color]

[color=a187be]"Get outta here with that shit."[/color] he finished, tossing blackened, charred bits into the light afternoon breeze. [color=a187be]"Just keep 'portin', fuckin' bozo."[/color]

[color=a187be][i]Either that or square up.

Whatever. He's gone. Fuhgeddaboutit. Whatever.

woooo--

saahhhhhhhhh[/i]

"So you got a time in mind for the whole date thing, Hat-chan?"[/color]