#slapping a

Oh my god, BAAU but Raisin is the one who lives?? I feel like that would somehow be worse than the canon. But also, so fun to explore

rambles under cut. child death tw

Gonna have me all cornered with nowhere to go? Hm? Well, just promise you'll look me in the eyes before you go about making me gurgle on blood. Maybe a little smooch too, just to be nice? :3

I think I deserve a little smooch >:3c

Oh? You want a little kissy before I impale you? Be careful what you wish for. Why don't you place those lips on my blood-stained mask, huh? See if it pleases me. I'm obsessed already, who knows what might happen between us? Oho~

"be honest... do you think we could rip limbs off?" As if she was a thoughtful dog, Wolf leaned her head from one side to another. She was doing the theoretical math in her head but also talked as if she was casually noting how nice the weather was outside: "We can move tons and to dismember someone it needs around the traction of 200 to 300 kilo , which is the traction a running horse can reach for a few moments. Though, we would not even need to run to do that so in a mathematical sense that would be theoretical possible, yes?" The woman stopped moving her head and there was a quiet smacking noise when she started to suck pensively on the poxscars in the left corner of her mouth: "Makes me wonder why I still ride a horse if I need to get to Rome, I could just run with that musclestrenght, but thats another kind of calculation, is it?"

On initial review, the calculations appeared to track with his own in-field experience. He was able to pull off feats that regularly fell beyond the limitations of a regular human in peak condition, often without thinking. This helped to lend credence in his mind to the working hypothesis put to him currently.

"I can't think of anything that should prevent us. So, yeah, I'd say we could." Barring the immoral nature of the act aside, to say he hadn't contemplated inflicting such a life-changing injury upon his enemies if ever warranted would be to tell a lie. Even so; "Still wouldn't be the preferred option for me, though. It's quicker-- and cleaner -- if I just used my talons instead."

Folding his arms against his chest -- subconsciously tucking his hands out of sight -- Miguel shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a quizzical brow arching at the news of her means of transport.

Jack’s Fish and Chips are the best in the town. He used to like me and if I was sent for the food he’d give me a little bag of wibbits, all the little bits of batter and too small chips. He’s dead now, but his wife and daughter still run it well.

The river’s a mess. You’re more likely to get tetanus than drown in there. There’s all sorts of muck in it; shopping trolleys, car doors, bicycles. One of the boys on the estate said he found a gun in there. I doubt that, because it runs along our part of town before heading in to the nicer side of the tracks, and we’d know about it if someone had really found a pistol. 

When it was founded, as you may guess from the name, they used to drag pig iron and coke out of the hills. Then the mills went up for wool and cotton, and just before my Dad was born I think it was mostly steelwork. Now that’s gone down the pan too. I can’t imagine the town will collapse but...I don’t think it’ll ever be what it was when they built the town hall and high street. Never has been in my lifetime.

People know their place in Cokeworth. You know who’s who in your estate, and who’s not from about. You know whose dad your dad works for and you don’t piss him off. I’ll walk anywhere in London, and I’ve been to the Malfoy estate, but I still feel out of place in the shiny side of Cokeworth. 

We ha- They have a lot of unemployment. Everyone does. Some of the politicians try to appeal to those of my father’s age and blame the blacks or the asians. But we grew up with them. And the men worked with them. You spend a shift every day working next to a man and drinking in the pub after work with him...you get to know him. It’s not a multicultural town but we haven’t had any riots. Still a National Front chapter in Cokeworth though.

It’s a dump and I know I’m one of lucky ones who’ll get out. Most won’t. They’ll be born here, live their whole life a stone’s throw from their childhood home and then die under the shadow of the chimney in a house that should have been condemned years ago. Not me though.