#futuremyopia

>."---Oh. He sounds like he could be a Tom of Finland enthusiast. Interesting."

There was really no personal investment in this mission besides favor for a favor -- but she'd be lying if she said she didn't enjoy the break from fucking things up for GrandTech and their associates once in a while. Believe it or not.

"Anyway, I think I'm ---"

C L I C K .

All the lights inside the control room flickered from her digital intrusion -- and shortly, all the lights gave out with a resounding pop. In the room with them, in the mansion-looking house inside the gates.

"...I'm in. Hacker voice. Whatever."

Looking quite pleased with herself, she pulled the wires off her devices -- slamming them together before promptly shoving all of them back in her duffel bag. Ready to get moving now that the electricity and security systems have been well taken care of.

"---- How do you want to go about this? I'm still not sure what we'll be doing once we're inside. Was kind of thinking of leaving that up to you."

HE CAN STAND, WHICH IS A GOOD SIGN.

Conscious and coherent, which means the blood loss isn't critical yet. Still, the shoulder is leaking, and that needs to stop.

"Ibuprofen isn't going to do much for a bullet."

Not that I want to be a Debbie Downer. It'll help with the pain, sure, at least until the bullet is pulled out and stitched up. That's where I could step in, yes, but I don't have any gloves on me, and that's a problem because I won't touch that without them.

"Come with me. I can probably get that fixed."

I don't expect him to follow me right away, but I'm already moving, gesturing for him to follow.

"You're the third one of your people I've patched up, by the way."

She looked like she was in over her head, eyes wide at the sights she saw. It was more the blatancy of some of the other handlers. "So it's that obvious?" she asked. What was a dog show if not the evaluation of breeding stock, who could pass on the traits that were desired. A client had sent her here, she had no need for an intact male, or female for that matter, but that's what they wanted, and they hired her to pick the best stud she could find. She had argued that this probably wasn't the consulting she should be a part of, but she'd trained their bitch, and now a stud should be selected for her.

"It doesn't feel like the most ethical thing in the world, but I suppose now is not the time for me to gain a set of morals." She did have a bipolar mad dog in her own home, who had been debarked, as well as shock implants surgically implanted to stop him from raging and killing, something she wasn't proud to admit she used.

Before that, she had one who was obsessed with her and simply went along with whatever she asked. He made her look good, smoothed the rough edges to make her a successful trainer. She was handling the new one okay but he was not the same.

ORAN.GE CASS.IDY + JON MOX.LEY || Use me 'til my use is nothing.

"Go. Go go gogogogo-."

She'd never been this rough with Orange before, her hands grabbing the material of his jacket to wheel him around and shove him away from the food cart they'd been loitering at.

Away from the cop who's nose she'd just busted open after he stepped up way too close and refused to take a hint.

The only thing they had going for them was the fact that the gonk in blue was too stunned to immediately react, after all, the NCPD weren't particularly known for being 'fair' or 'balanced'.

A corpse for an eye, or something like that.

"Okay. -- But. Why? What did ladders ever do to you?"

>. What a strange thing to bring up now, particularly while Binary was on her knees, hunched over into a strange squat -- fiddling around with hacking her way into the control room. Ripping out cables left and right, only to rewire them to where she actually wanted them.

Doing on-hands missions wasn't her strong suit -- but how could she say no when she was already in good favor with these guys? It wasn't every day that she ran into others with the same fucked up morals as her own -- so when Mox and this new guy, Orange, had asked her to help out, how could she even begin to say no?

"As long as you're keeping an eye out, I don't care what or whom you discredit or give credit to. I can't do two things at a time here."

Said the otherwise multitasking queen of Gotham.

" --- Is this why we're breaking in here? Ladders?" .<

Send 🏳️‍🌈 to get a headcanon about a facet of their queer identity

Karson never wanted this. He wanted to die in service. Wanted to be honored as all Hounds are, his ashes ground into the very corpse paint his brethren use to complete their ensembles, like so many before him.

Instead...he's here, alive, collared. Retired. A housepet, with a future, a soft life, a mate. The approval of Iros, too- a rare boon. One he won WITH this submission- an agreement he made many cycles ago in return for being allowed to court the god king's daughter in private.

Don't break her heart. When your time is up, step down. Stay with her that way instead.

And so he did...and so he has.

And as he watches her over breakfast, several weeks into this new reality...he realizes it's not a bad life at all. In fact, he thinks the future's bright...so long as she's in it.

"I'll certainly try."

A smile beneath his mask, visible in the crinkle of his eyes.