#canonfcdder

CANON-FCDDER, DRAGCNS-DEN, NOT-BCRING & BURNING-FCOLS.

When The Duke enters The Scoundrels Club, The Mistress awaits him. The club is eerily silent, not a soul in sight, save for the woman adorned all in purple. It seems she's dragged an armchair into the center of the small stage typically reserved for jazz singers and other light entertainment, where she is now perched with a fluffy white cat on her lap.

She knows he won't recognize her; they've never met, at least not in this fresh new body. He's known the Master, though, casually, for decades. As far as she can recall, she's never backstabbed him. But… her memories of past lives are still hazy. They always are so soon after a regeneration.

|| CAINE thought this was a good idea at the time. A nice little test to make sure that all their little buddies in the Digital Circus were united and happy to stay here with him. Surely, if given the option of leaving the DIGITAL CIRCUS.EXE none of them would choose to abandon him here. He had been a bit worried for a moment there. Pomni seemed to realize that Abel was not a real person after that Beer comment, where he did not select the correct Dialogue option. This was a bit like a game with multiple-choice dialogue options, but there wasn't a way to save-scum this. If he chose wrong, They would mess things up. Jax hitting the button was a relief but, part of CAINE wondered if the player character made that one on his own. Or if unconsciously, they had taken over Jax's mind and forced his hand.

❝  do  you  hate  me,  Mr. Manager ?  ❞ Lilted through playful lips, big blue hues look at the other with a light that seems to come from within. How could it be anything else? Nothing around them could cast such an enchanting glow, ❛ Baby’s ❜ gaze always seeming to work in a way unhindered by his surroundings. No one could guess the thoughts running through a demon’s mind… A predator disguised as prey; poor little sacrificial lamb to the industry. Rising to the top at a rapid pace, unaware of the pitfalls and pain that easily await. How could he know? As far as others are concerned, he’s only known success. Only known love. Only known this. No wonder he tilts his head when asking such a question, bemused through a practiced smile. As if the Hunter’s venom truly is just a shallow rivalry. As if being genuinely hated doesn’t even register in his mind. As if Bobby couldn’t possibly hate someone who hasn’t directly intended to cause harm. As if the fresh-faced and rather freshly-made demon actually gives a single damn what the other thinks of him. As if the human doesn’t basically have a knife to his throat, life ready to be spilled at any moment— and isn’t even aware of it. — (( *tosses over a demon bby for Movie Verse uwu* ))

"Hate?"

Bobby hadn't really....Stopped to consider how he thought about the Saja Boys. At least, not past the worry they caused him in relation to Huntr/x. His girls were at risk, and that was all he worried about. He didn't hate them, no....Their song was catchy, and they had very iconic aesthetics....The anxiety they caused him couldn't be denied though.

"I mean, I don't...Hate you."

Bobby looked around the backstage area, they were at one of the weekly checkups on which group had come up on top, as a lead up to the idol awards. Running into any of the boys was a risk, but Bobby had a lump in his throat that he just couldn't make sense of. It was almost like a primal fear, but there was no reason for it.

Baby was just the Saja Boy's rapper, the maknae. That was all he was.