The rush of adrenaline had been intoxicating, a feeling that could only be compared to a sip of her finest Mao Tai or the exquisite anticipation of discovering her latest conquest’s body between sheets of pure silk. Her eyes shone, her lips were soft and slightly parted. She was breathing perhaps a little quicker than usual but the gentle dip of her chin as she ascertained the damage done to her shoulder betrayed little more than a cautious interest to the ripped fabric.<br/><br/>Her daggers did not waver, crossed into position after her previous strike, and the remaining mooks only needed to glance at their fallen comrades to remember their slim opponent’s lethal toys. “You are afraid.” She stated. “You cannot win, and all you have left is a quick death and the scorn of your forefathers.”<br/><br/>“It need not be so. Leave, atone if you will."<br/><br/>Jiao-Jie changed her grip on the daggers, moving them slightly closer together. She waited, poised to strike.<br/><br/>"Or fight and die. Choose, and do so quickly, I am losing my patience.”<br/>