#slypsyche

@slypsyche has fallen down the rabbit hole.

The young man sneered. His eyes pinned on the ground. Trailing as a vagabond since he escaped confinement. Finding himself in the rook Islands after stowawaying on a ship where he found himself caught by pirates. He was no older than twenty five. Anger and unhealthy habits cursing him. Now he was going to die to pirates. Great. Till one comes up to him. A large scar on his head and a haircut only a mother could love. "What are you looking at? Sorry to ruin your fucking party but my parents don't give enough of a shit about me to give you money." He spat at him. A smirk crossing his lips. He was ready." Just do it asshole. Fucking do it!"

If human suffering were a novelty, it would be the cheap trinkets they sell at every odd tourist attraction. The kind one can personalize with a name, a color, or something that gives the vague impression that it is unique and personally made. The truth therin being that about a million copies is being made every day, pisspoor artifacts that will lie in the wake in the world's refuse like corpses.

Vaas had a cage behind him full of men and women, all of them like the man before him. Prime of youth, escapists, hedonists without a cause. He had seen so many of them, the novelty had worn off, and he forgot they were different people, different slabs of meat to sell.

"---I'm fucking sorry. Disculpe? Excuse me?" Vaas said, eyes traveling up to the stowaway the same way cobras are apt to look upon an overfed rat. "---Mind you, hermano, my friend, this is our first meeting, right? My first introduction, and you are giving me the bullshit at ass clock in the morning, making fucking demands and shit."

He was over in an instant, crouching down at eye level with the machete he had been using to parry between the bars of another enclosure. Teasing the animals inside. "---we start again, yes? We start again, and you tell me what the fuck you think you are asking me to do because your fucking parents? They are not in the equation, hermano. No---they don't exist for you, they are nada, they are ziltch. Start again, please, this time with more specifics, because your white boy tactics don't work here."

Kicking didn't help and it only made things worse as he screamed slightly as he fell back. The gnashing jaws of the zombie inches from his face as he shut his eyes.

There isn't an ounce of hesitation from her as she moves. Her pistol is trained, steady with her aim. Even with the thrashing, Rebecca hits her mark, immediately turning her aim to the others already advancing on the boy. She's completely calm in the midst of the living dead chaos;   she has to be if she wants to help as many people as possible. Her steps are careful as she nears him, making sure the corpses didn't get back up before offering him a hand.

       ❝ Are you alright? ❞   Her voice is warm, expression melting away from the cold concentration to a gentle concern as she helps him.   ❝ Are you hurt anywhere? ❞

⸻ °｡ @slypsyche.

She is smiling, genuinely smiling, grinning. Gary's giddiness was contagious, that giddiness filling its way in her stomach. Never have she felt like this before, and she hope this feeling would not disappear. She had miss feeling this childlike excitement.

Her hands held on to his, displaying her missing fingers. One glance over from the python and she nodded. Yes, you have my permission to be held. Boba slither off her arm and made his way on to Gary's arm, coiling comfortably from his elbow to his wrist - his head lied against the back of his hand. His black beady eyes were staring at Gary, carrying a gaze of happiness. Boba did like Gary.

"Go away..go away go away.." he begged. Pleaded. Digging his fingers into his short dirty light brown hair as he pleaded for whatever lord there was to save him.

It had been a massacre. Savagery depicted and painted the earth. Splashing vivid crimson to contrast amid dull tones of spring's early birth. The emitting light of the Worm Moon bathed it's rendering along preternatural allegory. Even the trees held sway on their bare premature , to an eerie gale portrayed looming in shadows to crawl at their betrayed turmoil. The beast knew he enthralled the eyes of his visitor. Perhaps he had always known the young man was present whilst he viciously and ravenously tore out the throat of his captive callously held beneath him. Nursing the gaping carnage with rushing lips viced around the jugular-geysed stream, partially folded atop the twitching body in feral reception as it lay bound for death. The youth had stumbled upon the monster's ritual. His aftermath to a well calculated hunt which conformed fruitfully. Acknowledging this intrusion with a wide fledged grin only briefly hoovering atop the raw remains of his bite, rows of burred razors implemented their display. Diabolical incision he purposely aimed to perform, invoke into this trepidation spent when fumbling upon his wicked act. Tongue slithered across the wet mutilation with gaze which danced toward his lamb's direction ; carmine aglow amidst what little light the celestial alignment allowed. Searing lure of embers piercing directly into the boy. Unearthing the tripling corruption abroad his unease from within. When the young man tore his eyes away, gave plead to whatever deity to provide pity on his misfortune. Had he spied any returning glance back for the lingering horror -- he would have found it had vanished. A presence then invasively drawn upon his senses, within that panic spread to where about it may have gone, only signified something now stood next to him. Close and foreboding. The thing that posed as man, then greeted him by his side, too close to qualify for comfort after what he had just witnessed. It wore the face of pleasantry. As if the gore which smeared his maw had not diminished any chance in obtaining a bond to human recollection. Crouched amid his level, head canted nearly horizontally amongst his tilt to one side whilst perched atop the balls of his feet -- further accommodating the youth's curled in state on a parallel measure. " Does he answer ? " He piped with an permissive dip to mockery. Cerulean hues boring into him with an intense driven stare, no longer partook their numinous gleam. That familiar grin, wolfishly inclined to the nature of it's exposure ; all teeth prominently mundane , given to it's more deluding fixture at it's stead. " Y'ah really shouldn' be trodgin' out 'ere by y're lonesome, lil' lamb. All sorts o' spooks. " There was a darker insinuative driven at undertow whilst he palmed hands atop his own knees subsidiary toward his idled posture.

"Ya little prick..." Blaise sneered, sharp canines became visible - standing between the kid and Siobhan; her hand held firmly on his, tugging him, not wanting this situation become more worse than it already has. Blaise should have ignored him, he did not mind being stared at. However, he caught the kid staring at Siobhan, who did not enjoy being stared at. And immediately, the protectiveness took over; eager to rip this kid into pieces.

He stride over to him, his eyes turned black with a growl forming in his throat. "Is that the best ya got, prick?" He spoke with a devilish grin, tilting his head. Those eyes looked into his - ah, shite. Blaise and Siobhan could see that...this kid was not doing well. Mentally. Poor kid. Neither of them cared for the people in the modern world - had little respect for themselves and others. But they more so felt bad for the ones that felt alone and helpless, having no one in their lives for support. Relying on their emotions to help them.