𖥻 │▌ 𝙰 𝙼𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙰𝙶𝙴 𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚂 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝙱𝚄𝚃𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚁, 𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻𝙸𝙰𝙼 : ❝ 𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝙸 𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝚈𝙾𝚄'𝚅𝙴 𝙶𝙾𝚃 𝙰 𝚂𝙲𝚁𝙴𝚆 𝙻𝙾𝙾𝚂𝙴. ❞
𝐀 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑, snapping their wicked teeth at the slip-lead that danced in and out of view. TAUNTING. GOADING. the handler's faces were obscured by shadow, but something so trivial as identity never seemed to matter much to strays. everyone knew what awaited them the end of the line, one way or another. didn't matter who drove the truck; only who pushed the needle ──── could've been vought, could've been [ ... ] whatever the hell this was supposed to be.
vi had retaliated her own capture the only way she knew how: with violence. her and the boys had communicated through thrown fists and skinned teeth .. through blood and bruised faces. she bit down hard on her own teeth and snarled when at last she'd been overcome and held down, ground into the muck.
( she'd been down there her whole life, ) ... ( so at the moment it didn't seem much different from any other day. )
❛ ────yeah, well some of us don't have a damn choice .. and no offense, but judging by that fucked up look in your eyes, i'd bet you know exactly what i'm talking about. ❜ muscle flexed and quivered to no apparent avail. she rolled the taste of blood around in her mouth, and then spat out the glob ( barely missing the tip of @f0cksupes' boots. ) mixed with her own saliva and mucus, it splatted onto the pavement; red and raw, just like the creature it came from.
❛ how about we all cut the shit, and you tell me exactly what it is that you want from me? ❜
