Damned if you do,

"So uh... don't know if you've heard... but pride month more so refers to celebrating being an individual and not bending who you are as a part of a minority group for the approval of a society that actively suppresses us and treats us like garbage. But uh..." The hacker stifles a chuckle.

And then I get to imagine scenarios such as this

Azul: I'm hideous

Idia, without even realizing what he's saying: I want you to shove a tentacle up my ass and rearrange my guts

Azul: WHAT

Idia, still not even fully processing the situation because all of his monsterfucker dreams are finally within his grasp: Genuinely nothing makes me harder than the idea of you holding me down and forcing me to take a tentacle deep down my throat until I'm crying

Azul:

(Tw Gorey-ish description)

They slam into the floor, sickening and truely gross splat sounding on impact with the concrete floor. Black ichorous substance slowly leaks from the unmoving body, the figure covered copious in what you assume is multiple other people’s blood.

“…hhhhhhh…”

-that annoying fool (@hacker-twotime)

1x1x1x1 turns to glare down at the hacker, face twisted into a disgusted scowl.

"...You. What do you think you're doing?"

The air around the entity crackles and breaks, broken pixels and dead code pulling themselves together into a jagged, glitching blade that 1x swings around to point down at Two Time.

"uhm... 1x? oh..." They squint up at you in confusion. Seeming to struggle with registering you towering over them, whether that be because of poor vision or one of the drawbacks of most likely being concussed.

"I'm fiineeeeee... Just some creeps I had to make quick work of..." There's a certain tone in their voice, one that reeks of half assed deception.

The exploiter lets out a grunt of pain as they grip their side, applying pressure to the wound.

1x gives them another cursory scan, grumbling as they do so.

"Not like you really care either way-" TwoTime sighs, attempting to straighten their posture before flinching and clutching their side in pain.

Just as arrogant as the one who made them...

They snicker, daring the other to make a move. They open their arms, as if welcoming an incoming embrace.

“Go ahead, hit me. You and I both know it won’t do anything in the long run.”

The disdain packed into that last word is palpable...which is impressive, really, seeing as just about every word that comes out of 1x's mouth is laced with venom of some sort or another.

"Do you have in your possession an object to be used to bind the wound?"

They shed their jacket, taking off their shirt and ripping it into a strip with their teeth.

1x's hand shoots out, grabbing onto their sword from its position hanging in mid-air...and watching as it shrinks down to the size (and shape) of a needle. That's handy.

"Try not to scream."

And impressive, although I doubt 1x1x1x1 would ever admit that...not many mortals retain such strength of will once pierced by the Daemonshank's blade. With a few more stinging punctures, the stitching is complete, and the sword floats back to 1x's hand, returning to its full size as it does so.

The encounter was far from the average gang fight.

"God... I don't even fucking know-" They groan.

1x’s crimson eyes narrow, giving the exploiter’s bandaged wound a second glance for a fleeting moment.

“How did the assailant appear? Did they say anything as they attacked, or possess any distinguishing features?”

That description is familiar to the entity, actually. Quite reminiscent of a certain virus...not that they're going to tell Mika that 💔

"Goodbye, then. May our next meeting be flung far from this day."