"About time you showed up," he quipped when the masked heroine arrived at the scene of the explosion. "Authorizes say it was planned," he tossed a thumb over his shoulder to show the mangled remains of what looked like a pipe bomb. "The problem is," he went on, "they said this isn't just some one and done kind of job." Moving toward the building, his head followed it up.

With his mask on, it was impossible see his eyes. Hell, with his mask on, it was impossible to really guess who he was. All that was visible were his lips and that chiseled chin of his. His hair, black like the mask he wore, was short and kept fairly combed. Ears half-hidden beneath the golden tassels of his mask, was likely done on purpose to throw anyone off from guessing his species. Even his garments, definitely inspired by Asian folklore, made it hard to gauge just what kind of man stood beneath the mask. Was he fat? Skinny? Laced with delicious muscles? There as no real way to tell for the attire was far too lose on him. Though, if one had to wager, it was safer to bet on the side of skinny and toned.

When his eyes finally pulled from the building, he cast his masked gaze her way. "Hope you didn't have plans this evening," his voice was rich and dreamy. There was a hint of seduction to it. He loved to rile his partner up, mainly because she often hated it. "As you did reject my previous invitation," he curtly added in.