Samari didn't have enough blood for his face to get red with shock and humiliation, his dark skin would have partially hidden it if it did. What was visible though were his eyebrows crossing into a distinct 'V' and his lips curling into an angry snarl. He wasn't looking at Titanol though.
He was looking at Oris.
There was a blur of black and white, a surprised squeak and Samari was pinning Oris in the center of the bed. Samari's hands were on Oris' elbows and he crouched over his torso. Oris had a blank look on his face.
"Let's get one thing straight," Samari snarled. Oris could smell his breath he was leaning in so close. It smelled like strong wine. "I'm not a Lloth-damned whore, I am a necromancer. See the robes!"
Before this moment Oris had never heard the phrase necromancer before, so when he heard Samari use it his mind thought he said neck-romancer. "is there a difference?"
Whatever snapped in Samari's mind when all the whore accusations began flooding in was promptly snapped into fourths at this. He sat up straight, gave Oris a nasty glower and hissed.
When Samari hissed Oris noticed something, he had fangs. Eep? His eyes widened, the iris and pupil almost shrinking to dots.
Samari's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he flopped over sideways, falling off the bed and hitting his head on the floor.
Oris blinked.
