Masayoshi Shido's office was tastefully designed and conservatively decorated. Not that that was what he'd noticed, at the time, at first.
A fourteen-year-old boy was all but dragged into the office by a pair of security guards, his expression terrified as he was thrust into a chair opposite the man.
Shido was tall, and handsome, in a sharp and angular sort of way, his head shaven with neatly-trimmed facial hair, eyes glaring at the boy in front of him from behind yellow-tinted lenses.
And behind the child, the same boy, four years older, stood frozen as he took in the sights in front of him.
Wild Card || Locked to Azula
A fourteen-year-old boy was all but dragged into the office by a pair of security guards, his expression terrified as he was thrust into a chair opposite the man.
Shido was tall, and handsome, in a sharp and angular sort of way, his head shaven with neatly-trimmed facial hair, eyes glaring at the boy in front of him from behind yellow-tinted lenses.
And behind the child, the same boy, four years older, stood frozen as he took in the sights in front of him.
He really was beginning to hate dreamscapes.