#urazakh

“You ain’t run into that shithead again have you?” Grant sat scraping the char from inside of his pipe. He looked up at Holly, brows knitted together, “You see that bastard you gotta say somethin’...I got a bullet all picked out for him.”

“Ain’t seen hide nor hair of him, no,” Holly shook her head, barely looking up from the pot of soup on the stove, “Kinda hopin’ he’s rottin’ in a ditch someplace.”

The jolt of fear that Holly felt at the mere sight of him was near paralyzing. His voice was grating, and made her skin crawl. Panic welled up in her chest, threatening to burst and overwhelm her, but somehow she held it back. She let out a short, harsh breath. 

Fine. If he wanted violence so goddamn much he could have it.

“He is,” Starling said simply, eyes lingering on the purple flag in the distance. Although she had been lucky enough not to deal with the man who’d caused Holly so much trouble, she had heard enough about him -- from Holly, and Matthew’s extensive recon -- to know he was likely completely off his rocker and not someone to underestimate.

Send me “Flash Forward” for a brief snippet of an event that will occur in my muse’s future.

The needle began to suck the sinister looking fluid from its vial. The Manectric seated next to him tilted her head curiously, whining softly as her sullen master inspected the purple contents of the syringe.

For seven years, he swanked and preached about the superiority of his Shadow Pokemon. He’d seen the results, The scars mangling his arms were more than enough proof to display their power. Yet there he was-- syringe in hand, finding himself freezing up every time he turned to his strongest Pokemon.

He still had a chance to win this fight. It was one injection-- that’s all he had to do. This was nothing he was a stranger to; having done this to dozens upon dozens of Pokemon. This Pokemon was no different than the rest of them, so why was he so damned hesitant? Ein lowered himself to the position of his loyal canine. His hands trembled; his breaths were shaky, uneven.

Just one injection, and she would be more than battle-ready; completely focused on her targets, unable to feel pain, unable to feel fear, unable to feel… anything, really. But surely a price worth paying for inconceivable power, yes?

Eins hand brushed around the base of the Manectrics neck, feeling for the injection spot.

Was… was her fur always this soft?

… If that were the case, how was that goddamned brat able to defeat him? Twice?

Surely it was fluke, a twist of fortune on the snaggers side; and the incompetence of his coworkers. The failure of the project couldn’t have been on him. There's no way he wasted his entire life on fruitless research like that. No. Shadowfication was the real thing, and he was going to prove it the moment he wiped the walls of the Deep Colosseum with that damned kid.

The scientist shushed the whining Manectric as the needle penetrated through her skin. His other hand brushed down her cheek, stroking her fur. The knot in his throat felt tighter and tighter when he looked into those red eyes: accepting her fate as if she knew what was about to happen. She gently brushed her muzzle against his cheek, as if to assure him she would be okay.

All he needed to do was push down the plunger, and that would be the end of it. His fist tightened around the barrel, thumb freezing into place as a hauntingly familiar plea from the past froze his thoughts.

“NO! PLEASE DON’T HURT LADY!”

...

Ein blinked slowly. He gazed at his hand as sharp pain shot through his palm, his fist completely tightened into a ball. The sound of glass and plastic hitting the floor broke the silence. He slowly opened his hand, unsure how the syringe was now a pile of shattered glass and liquid in his palm. Violet fluid mixed with blood dripped down his hand.

A guaranteed win just slipping between his fingers.

Surely he wouldn’t allow that, right...?

…

…

Weak.

Worthless.

Zane had heard a lot of fucked up stories while living at Nuka World with three different raider gangs constantly trying to one-up each other, but as far as he was concerned this guy wasn’t part of the game, and he wasn’t interested in playing.

[Nah, I get exactly what you mean, I had the same thing before quarentine, but now that quarentine is in place it’s gotten a lot worse. I’m actually trying VRChat w a friend to try and get socialization beyond text, if you’d like to hang w me in there lmk (VRChat is free)]

Slim stared at the offered drink in confusion, then glanced at the man nervously, slowly taking a step back and shaking his head. Before he could respond, Grant appeared, practically thrusting himself between the younger man and the silver haired asshole.

It had taken him a few minutes to place him – last time he’d seen the little shit he’d been beaten bloody – but there weren’t that many young, white haired pricks out wandering around, so it had finally clicked. Had they not been in The Third Rail, he might have pulled out his shotgun and put an end to the son of a bitch right then and there. That, unfortunately, would have been unwise.