#knxckitxff

   “HAAAAAAANK!!!!!!!“ He clambers out of a nearby crack in the wall, standing a good distance away and just. staring. He isn’t even armed he’s just. There. “...... IT’S BEEN A WHILE.“

   ELIMINATE          DESTROY                   KILL!!!!!!!!!!11!!!!!!

{🔪} Obviously a bright pink anime girl is gonna stand out like a sore thumb pretty much anywhere, but in Nevada it’s less a sore thumb, and more like the thumb was pulled off, and stomped on a hundred times.

Which, coincidentally, is just about what Giffany is doing! These weird little grey things are Very maleable. Good for pulling apart, judging by the mess that was actually like that when she found it.

She doesn’t even notice anyone’s there with her until she turns around, the body of a grunt in one hand, and the head in the other.

ВСЕ    КЛОУНЫ-ГРЕБАНЫЕ    ИДИОТЫ.

{{ L }} “When your first impression results in someone’s last moments you tend to just say whatever pops into your head.”

☾ ˚⊹  ❛❛  S T A R T E R  C A L L

        — @knxckitxff​

                        ❛❛   YOU...   Your   face   I...   ❜               Russian’s   words   trailed   off   as   he   squinted   at   the   other.   He   was   never   good   at   recognizing   anyone.   Perhaps   it   was   from   his   time   alone,   but   that   still   stood-   he   couldn’t   distinguish   names   from   faces.   Without   a   friendly   whisper   in   his   ear   he   usually   didn’t   care.   Why   should   he   have   cared   about   whatever   caused   this   memory   to   resurface.                  ❛❛   Ублюдок,   конечно,   теперь   я,   кажется,   ничего   не   понимаю.   ❜

                        This   was   a   fresh   memory,   a   fresh   burn   as   it   were.   There   was   something   screaming   familiarity   and   yet   like   torn   pages   of   a   book   he   couldn’t   recall   the   original   piece.               ❛❛   Ты   выглядишь-   I   mean   you   look   familiar   is   all.   ❜

☾ ˚⊹  ❛❛  WAS WAITING 20 DAYS WORTH CONTINUING THIS? ABSOLUTELY. STAB HIM HANK.

         — @knxckitxff​

“For the love of— Hello, Ruv. It’s Hank, but hello.”

He’s going to stab him.

∘⡊   ☾   ˚⊹                                 Oh   the   Russian   doesn't   smile,   but   the   way   he   bounced   as   he   responded   made   the   enjoyment   clear.

                              This   was   absolutely   a   game   to   the   asshole.               ❛❛   Ah,   I   see.   I   see.   Misunderstanding   ‘   Frank   ’.   Accents   -   so   hard!   ❜               Said   the   man   who   could   talk   in   a   near   perfect   American   accent   if   he   wanted.

{{ L }} "The name wouldn't happen to stand for 'Agency Against Hank Wimbleton', would it?"

Pulling out a black pistol with a, ridiculous long barrel, with the name 'Jackal' etched into it the Nosferatu pointed it in the direction of two approaching MAG Agents. Glowing amber hues never broke their gaze with Hank's crimson frames, with a quick squeeze of the trigger the Jackal let out a loud bang. The second the giant's heads lined up the bullet penetrated through collective skin and bone leaving nothing but their lower jaws that stained red by the shower of blood and brain matter.

☾ ˚⊹  ❛❛  OH... ARE INTODUCTIONS NORMAL FOR YOU DURING THIS?

         — @knxckitxff​

"..I haven't been given reason to trust you yet."

The vague answer to the other's question is punctuated by Hank turning his head to look away. Seemed he'd spotted something, because without missing a beat, the killer threw his knife into the head of an attacking grunt. Watching the lifeless body flop to the ground with the blade still embedded, Hank then returned his gaze to Ruv. Perhaps they should have held back, he could only assume that killing wasn't as normalised in Ruv's world.

"I don't have reason to hurt you or to trust you. You're pretty lucky, most people default to being hurt."

Hank then held out his hand, dismissing the both metaphorical and literal blood on it.

"Let's start, then. Nice to meet you. I'm Hank."

                                    There   was   a   thrill   to   violence.   One   that   Ruv   couldn’t   describe.   Maybe   because   it   was   he   had   grown   up   with   it   his   entire   life,   PARTICIPATING   in   the   violence   none   stop.   He   had   grown   to   numbed   to   what   should   disturb   other   that   he   was   still   rather   still   as   the   familiar   sound   of   the   body   hitting   the   ground   echoed   in   the   room.   It   was   like   something   had   unlocked   in   Ruv.   Something   he   had   buried   long   ago   when   he   had   met   SARVENTE.   When   he   met   someone   who   saw   him   as   someone   as   more   than   the   killing   machine   he   was.

                                    Bending   down   and   picking   up   the   knife,   he   wiped   it   on   his   thick   snow   pants   before   looking   back   at   Hank.   Ruv   was   intelligent,   though   not   in   the   book   way.   He   was   wise,   and   could   be   quick   on   the   punches.   There   were   at   least   three   people.   Trusted,   neutral,   and   those   laying   on   the   ground.   Ignoring   the   blood   on   Hank’s   hand,   he   shook   the   man’s   hand,   Russian   accent   thicker   than   even   he   was   expecting.               ❛❛   Call   me   Ruv.   Full   name   Ruvyzvat’s.   It   is   mouthful   and   unable   to   say   before   they   die.   ❜

                           ❛❛   So   Hank.   How   can   I   help?   Wish   to   have   fun,   yeah?   ❜               Spinning   the   knife   in   his   hand,   he   didn’t   quite   smile   at   the   other.   That   wasn’t   possible.   No,   he   was   however   completely   paying   attention   to   the   other.   Congratulations   Hank-   Ruvyzvat   the   Bloodied   Guardian   Angel   has   joined   your   party.               ❛❛   And,   no   offense   Hank.   I   do   not   think   you   could   touch   me   if   you   tried.   ❜