▐ Blood Bath and Beyond▐ Gang/ Dark/ Sci-Fi /O✰A

[Betty Bomber]

▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ ▉ ▊ ▋ ▌ ▍ ▎ ▏ ▐ Ⓙohnny▐

When Serena's nails raked through the dip where Johnnys cheekbone met his bear trap jaw, he had heard that tearing in his ears. Johnny let go of a muffled grunt, and turned bleak and forbidding eyes on his seething co-captain. She didn't like it one bit when she was opposed on any scale. Johnny's mouth twisted into an ugly red snarl, bearing thick and strong ivory pointed teeth. Fury rocked him, his heavy hanging arms bowing at the elbows as he swayed toward her.

It was a wonder he could stay still when she wrenched herself free, but one little face flesh wound wouldn't have phased him just as much as say.... Holding a knife to his throat. He was physically intrigued by the sudden softness but instinctively he knew to stay firm, unmoving against that coiling grip of her arms around his neck. His nerve endings lit up like the Fourth of July when she lapped the blood from the grooves she created, stinging his flesh. His hands were up, and just as he could feel the heat of her ribs close to his palms they were against the wall and wouldn't you know it..

She's ********' doing it He seethed, his Adam's apple pressed to a steel blade, poised to slice through the skin and split his esophagus. Johnny's dastardly maw broke into a huge menacing grin, his gums blaringly red against pearly white shark teeth. He stared at her crazily over his nose, smelling the polished steel, the blood on her breath as she huffed and puffed. He couldn't believe she actually thought he would risk his own life for anyone. He protected and avenged no one but himself. He opened his neck out to her, pushing his shoulders back into the cold steel wall, where an imprint in steam was left from his body heat. She pulled away then, still wielding that laughable little knife as if she would have actually used it. That was always a possibility, but not right now, not in here.

"You really are out of your ******** mind, aren't you? I'd throw that b***h off the face of Earth if I had too" Johnny said darkly, his voice lined with gravel and agitation. He paused, bitterly reminiscing her indirect accusation of him taking anything she was saying right now as romantic or emotional. He levelled an utterly condescending look on her.

Is there anything else you'd like to get off your chest? With her heaving chest and laboured breathing, he had to wonder if it was him who should have been asking her that question. "Serena.. Beautiful.." He started, his frame easing slightly. One thick eyebrow tipped upward, and he jeered at her "I don't get attached to the holes I dig. Your paranoid. Your stuck with me until we die or kill eachother." he said gravely... Quite possibly the closest thing to reassurance he had uttered to another person since he could remember, one fiery and bloody night eternities ago.

With that, Johnny sharply turned his shoulders away and snatched up the discarded file. Flipping it open, he uncovered a watchable disk, keeping it in mind for later. Now it was time to focus on the task at hand. Himself and Serena were to go on a little errand running. He was looking forward to the opportunity to escape the underbelly of the Triple B. "Go get a hover ready... Make it a big one. Tranquilizers, bring those... If were heading into riot territory, more is always better.." He said with his back turned, lighting a cigarette. The hulking brute peered over his shoulder to meet eyes with Serena caustically "But you already know that. I have to collect b***h birds damage report.. I'll make it snappy to appease you, your highness".

[Four Dirty Paws]

Your hands protect the flames from the wild winds around you.
+Nimue Daelnar+

Apollo had a point, going on about how their bosses being stuck with paperwork has made them nearly stir crazy. And for sure the attitude she'd been copping with Johnny earlier was not helping the situation. Yeah she'd been in pain and yeah she'd been kinda scared from the ordeal - it had to be her nastiest wound to date. Nimue sighed and watched him fix her drink, gold eyes trained on his slick hands while she pouted a little. It was a frustrated pout rather than a sad puppy pout. Like she wanted to strangle someone and couldn't. "Thanks, as if Johnny doesn't remind me how small and weak I am enough already. Much obliged."

Her head as well as her small round pink eyebrows raise at the comment that followed. What was with everyone wanting to spank her! Her wings snapped out, flaring as she threw her hands up in exasperation. "By the ******** Maker! Do I have this big sign on my back that says 'Spank Me'?" The little bird's feathers fluffed out and she cursed something nasty in Venutian. She looked for all the world like an angry, foul-mouthed pigeon. Hence the nicer of her nicknames. Speaking of which. "And the next sorry ma'kalet to call me b***h bird again, I'm gonna gut him from belly to balls!" She slammed her tiny fist on the counter for emphasis. It felt good to get it off her chest. Then she sobered up, folding her wings against her back again and practically wilting in front of the male stripper she was currently venting at. "Unless it's Johnny. I don't get to cut anything on him. He's too ******** big. He's like three times my size. And he probably weighs like two hundred kilos!" Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration. But she wouldn't doubt it. Her a*****e boss was all muscle. Not a scrap of fat on that body of his. Ugh! No! Stop thinking about his body! What the hell is wrong with you, girl? Yeah, the cannibal will absolutely eat you, but not in the way you'd like. Nimue made a despairing noise and downed her fresh drink in one go to try and stop her insane train of thought. She slammed the glass back down and nearly broke it on the steel, wings flaring angrily again. Seems she wasn't even slowing down. Girl had some kinda crazy fire to burn tonight it seemed.

"And Serena! I mean, what the ******** is her malfunction?!" Nimue looked pleadingly at Apollo as though he knew what she was talking about. When it seemed he didn't know what this specific rant was about, she clarified. "She keeps giving me the third degree whenever I'm around, especially if I'm in the company of my boss! She's suddenly on a tear about me being a prostitute - former, you know that, ******** everyone knows that - and accusing me of sleeping with Johnny!" She let off a half-manic, half-self-deprecating laugh. "Oh yeah he's just gunning full-throttle to get into my knickers alright! I've been with him from the beginning, for five years now, and not once has he ever given me a second glance or even looked at me that way, not that he would. Hell, if he wanted, he'd probably just point to his desk and order me to strip or something. But no, nothing has ever happened, and yet she's raking my carcass over the coals! Where the hell did this come from! And why the great bleeding ******** does she care?!" Poor bird was going full tilt. Probably should cut off her alcohol consumption before she starts ranting to the wrong person. Serena would gut her in a heartbeat if Nimue copped an attitude like this with her. She made another despairing noise that turned into something rageful, and she suddenly threw her empty glass against the far wall, where it shattered into bits. Then she put her head down on the counter and seemed to deflate, wings going limp against her back while still open and her pretty pink coiffe spilling over her face onto the counter. It was a pretty sad and sorry picture. Apollo could hear her muttering. "One more for the road, barkeep, please. And then I'm closing my tab. No relaxing or strangling people for me tonight, or even getting drunk. I told his Highness that I'd still work tonight. I'll have to take a raincheck." Stupid bird.

[Jeff Caramel]

millions of light years above the earth's dissolving stratosphere...

A high speed chase is taking place. A tiny, yet mach five speeding space ship is being pursued by two much larger ships with wailing sirens. Inside the tiny speed demon, Jeff pilots the cockpit. "This baby can reach up to mach five? Hah! who knew?" A transmission from Jeff's pursuers in projected on the large screen above the control panel.

"Attention X-908 hijacker, this is your final warning. Further resistance will result in open weapons.
"Now in my defense, and hear me out, I uh.. was GOING to bring it back. I was just taking it on a joyride, honest. And besides! I've been a faithful employee haven't-"

The transmission line cuts off before Jeff could continue on with his stupid excuses. "Woah!" A giant line of make-you-dead plasma zips by the right wing just barely missing it. "Gotta lose em'! Jeff grabs hold of the steering lever with two hands and thrusts it completely to the right causing the ship to barrel roll continuously. "OOooOOkaAAaYYY notttTTtt mYYYyy greateeEEEessTTtt ideAAAAAaaAAAA!"

"What do you think you're doing!?! Here, give me the controls!" The ship glows red as she spoke, it was Red, Jeff's alien, cybernetic partner-in-crime. She had no physical form, but took control of the ship fully via the computer. She stopped the ship's spirals while still dodging the law's canons. "See? Read. The. Manual. I feel like I'm not asking much of you!"

"Nag, nag, nag, that's all you do.."
Red sighs as she activates the ship's cloaking system. The two space ships were fooled and continued to speed into a different direction as She led the ship into the shadows.

[Betty Bomber]

Lily_Bell

Tsall good hombre!

Mole drew back with Nuls retort. He thought had done a pretty good job of keeping himself in check, he was far from falling to his knees and cursing into the air. But Nul had just told him, that this sensitivity to the musk of human emotion, was a powerful trait that his sort carried... Mole twisted his mouth and released a deep sigh. If a guy shits on his own bathroom floor, and no one is around to hear it? Does it still make a sound when it hits the tile?" He wondered caustically, suddenly very aware.. there was a sense of vulnerability that he couldn't shake, with this new knowledge. Looking at Nul look at him as he attempted to relinquish his regret, was akin to standing buck a** naked right in front of him. Reasonable thought; the nemesis of human emotion Mole said mutely, through numb lips and again.. mostly to himself.

Mole shuffled toward Nul, his hands still crammed deep in his pants pockets. He looked back in his memory, briefly to the location he had fished the eye from the deep metal socket of the decimated Law-Bot. The E-Zee Pawn was in the middle of a cluster of buildings.. a strip mall, an abandoned warehouse that was once a movie store now rendered useless and moot due to the sudden influx of streamed videos on cellular phones, and an infamous titty bar. Best known for hyper crabs and under aged strippers. Mole really did hate to see the lost souls floating around that property, it made him sick to his stomach so he often avoided it. Not only that, but the homeless sleeping around the alleys... it was like looking into a mirror only a few years into the future.

"I'll calm down... for now. But if you end up absorbing my disgust somehow, don't hurl in front of me or we'll go back and forth for hours" Mole warned, winding up next to Nul and tossing himself into the pristine white upholstered couch Harvey had put into the flat.

[Jeff Caramel]

Jeff Caramel

"We NEED to lay low. Like, way low. As in, if they just so happen to find and capture us we're DONE."
"Don't worry, Red it doesn't get much lower than this.."
Jeff puts his face in his palms in anticipation of the imminent capture and probable death sentence in the not-so-distant future when he suddenly gazed upon the galaxy map on the screen.
"Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle.."
Jeff began mashing coordinates into the computer's GPS.
"Where are you taking us?" Red's control over the ship is overridden as Jeff steers the ship into his motherland, planet Earth.
"Jeff?..."
He recklessly drove towards the ruinous planet while still shadowed by the ship's camouflage. The farther he dove into the planet's sky layers more more polluted he realized it has become. The ship pierced through a green cluster of clouds and in what seemed a barely inhabitable concrete jungle.
"So. Umh. I'm pretty sure you can't just land on a planet without any sort permit...thing!"
Jeff pushed up his glasses in a cocky fashion.
"First rule of planet Earth. EVERYTHING is legal..unless you get caught"
Jeff guides the ship to what appeared to be a hover junkyard of some sort. He then scanned the area subtle to land. Upon landing it finally occurred to Jeff that he doesn't know how to operate his newly "borrowed" ship and instead of gracefully and silently landing like that of a cat, he instead landed like stumbling, iron, multi-ton behemoth.
"...Nice."

[Betty Bomber]

Darwin had scampered off as far as his chunky short legs could take him, until he felt like his heart would hammer out of his throat. He clutched his hairy chest and sat in a tight ball, panting laboriously. He couldn't stop seeing Rustys face lifting off his skull, or the coiled mess of Freddy's innards frothing out of him. His brothers were likely all dead, he let go of any hope that Cleatus had taken care of that little b*****d cat and that evil b***h behind the drivers wheel. He was dead, and if he wasn't now, then he would be soon.

Darwin whimpered behind his large hands, looking around the edge of the rock formation he coward behind. He squinted his eyes, his deeply lined face wrinkling. He could still see the smoke rising from far far away, his sharp ears could still pick up voices. Cleatus's thick accent and speech impediment had been sharply cut off, and following soon after was gobble de gook he could not make out.


Darwin was too afraid to weep, in a state of blind panic. He slowly rose from his hairy haunches and licked his lips, staring alertly as he trudged quickly through the mess of ruined sand and oil, running to the next stone megalith , preferably one he could climb. All the while, he kept a fearful eye on the smoke rising ahead. His sense of smell was the death of him today, there wasa very specific aroma of death in the air and it was fogging over from exactly where he had run away from. He hitched a mourning sob and howl, forcing himself to trudge past his dead brothers and there killers, meaning to never look back.

[Betty Bomber]

☆ ★ Cassie ★ Masoner ★ ☆

Cassie steeled herself against the uproar of cannons and blustering wind, swirling shrapnel and dump sand all around her, and the ship where it lay. She took three quick steps backwards and grit her teeth. Two voices boomed from somewhere, inside or outside the fallen ship. The first was male and bumbling, unsure of just what warning they were trying to give. Cassie furrowed her brow, her heart pounding between her ears. The ship bellowed, commanding and expectant. "STATE YOUR BUSINESS. NOW." Cassie opened her mouth to scream her reply over the cannons, but there was no way she would be heard through that ruined mask of hers.. or over the attacking sound, but she wasn;t in the mind set to remember little details like that. She hurriedly reached up to the back of her head and unsnapped the clip holding the head gear plastered to her skull. It broke open and swung wildly in her curled hand. She dropped to one knee and covered her head with her forearms.

It dawned on her then. Illegal Aliens. They had completely missed the check in point for ET visitors, and if the owner of that first voice was the one driving, somehow it didn't surprise her. A poorly initiated terrorist attack?.. Maybe. Confused and afraid for her life, Cassie blasted heatedly " Turn those things off!! Please! I'm staying where I am!... I.." Cassie had to whip her head to the right, scorching hot air forcing her eyes closed. Her high blonde pony tail whipped her face and neck sharply. It was hard to talk with wind flying in her mouth. Frustrated, she rolled to the right and slid to her feet, panting.

"I'm looking for a BODY!" She howled. Her body rocked forward and her fists flew behind her back. The sudden epitome stabbed a thin needle through the most wounded area, in her heart. All that time searching, and she was looking here as a last resort. If she didn't find any piece of Tanny where all the other trash went to die, then she easily could be anywhere in the galaxy at this point. Cassie crumbled to the dirty rocks and wreckage underneath her and snatched up a good sized rear view mirror to huck at the side of the ship, wailing futilely. "Get the hell OUT OF HERE".

Jeff Caramel

[authorific]

SERENA vit RONA

When he quite rightly spoke about her being out of her mind, she bared her ivory fangs, glaring up at him. However, when he throw off her suspicions about his otherwise unprofessional behaviour towards Nimue, she relaxed slightly, not enough for it to visibly affect her stance of course. Her passive expression quickly fled from her face when he uttered the word ‘beautiful’ making her scoff and glare at him once again with her icy blue gaze. Today had definitely been one of the worst in a while and all she wanted to do was tear some s**t up. Preferably living s**t.

“I have the slightest feeling we’ll probably end up killing each other.” She murmured, slipping her knife back into her belt before watching him move and flick through the folder she had previously captured. It had been fairly boring to her, but it was necessary to their mission, the small amount of information that it did contain. “When we use tranquilizers it means we can’t feast on them afterwards.” She grumbled inwardly before stepping forward, nabbing the cigarette from his fingers and inhaling from it herself, smiling sweetly up at him all the while. After blowing the smoke from her nose, she leaned up and lightly caressed his face with the palm of her free hand.

“Large hover. Tranquilizers. Possibly some adrenaline shots, I know what you’re like.” She shrugged and perched the butt of the tab between his lips before turning and moving to the door of his office. “Oh take your time lover, just remember you’re going to be alone with me and I’m already hunting for someone’s blood.” She flashed him a dark grin over her shoulder before swinging his door open and making her way out to the corridor, stopping with her hands on her hips before turning and stomping down the corridor.

Tranquillizers and adrenaline shots were pretty easy to find, they were in a smallish room that was happily decorated by any drugs and medicines that they could get their hands on. And in the world’s current state, medicine was hard to come by, at least it was in the lower earth. After stuffing the required items in a rucksack that she had ‘found’ she glanced at the walls longingly, her eyes resting on some of the potentially dangerous medicine before turning and moving back into the corridor, shutting the door behind her and locking it. It was locked, and only a few people had the keys. Her and Johnny obviously. She wouldn't be surprised if Nimue had one, after all, she was practically a lap dog for Serena’s co-captain.

“Stupid whore.” Her dark mood was disappearing, instead being replaced by the anticipation and the small amount of excitement towards actually getting out of the office and not having to do paperwork for five minutes of her life. To be honest, she preferred it when she wasn’t a co-captain, at least in the active part of it. But now, at least she had no one to look up to, not including the President and the Middle Man, but as long as she didn't kill anyone really important, or threaten the delicate people of the Upper Earth, she rarely got lectured.

At times, she even missed her original planet, but then she remembered the reasons why she had left it and quickly forbade those types of feelings. For one, she definitely didn't fit in anywhere, even on her home world. They had had strict rules on ‘who to have sex with’ and then even when they had established the long and tedious relationship, they only believed the sexual intercourse was acceptable when used for procreation reasons.

What a load of complete and utter s**t.

[Jeff Caramel]

Jeff rolled out of the drivers seat like lifeless rag doll into the newly dimmed and smoky control room. "I think I'm to be going sick.." He wandered slowly around the ship's carnage. "Red? Are you there? I need a status report!"
"But of course. Would you also like me to review the My-First-Battleship beginner guide right there on the dashboard?"
Jeff points randomly at the ceiling. "Don't you sass me, woman... computer, Alien, cyber-thing!" Jeff returns back to the control room and sits on the pilot seat with crossed legs. "This is no time for novice formalities!" Jeff crossed his arms in a childish fashion.
Red let out a quiet sigh. "Yep. definitely a Human. Shields completely knocked out. There are multiple interior penetrations and we're leaking quite a bit of rocket fuel."
Jeff slouched completely back in his chair, arms still crossed. "Huh."
"Yeah..yes, this is bad, Jeff.
In the midst of the realizations of all the endeavors, Jeff suddenly perked up. "Oh crap.. the gauntlets! Where are they?" He started to look all over the control room, thrashing things about.
"Uh, Jeff?"
Sounds of lamps and chairs being tossed about were prominent. "What, what, what? Can't you see I'm busy?!?"
"Well, I'm-Busy we've got an intruder right outside, right now!
"Fear not! It is probably nothing more than some junk dealer. I shall convince him that I am with the local authorities and this is merely all part of a clever ruse!"
"Please stop talking like tha-" She was abruptly cut-off by Jeff.
"SILENCE, WOMAN. Jeff ran to the control panel and activated the intercom system. "HALT WHO GOES THERE, uh I mean uh, NOT SO FAST, wait I mean" He started muttering to himself, deciding on the appropriate intruder exclamation. "What would Captain Gunther say?..."
Red let out a not-so-subtle sigh. "STAY WHERE YOU ARE, EARTHLING. STATE YOUR BUSINESS. NOW." She started to rev up the cannons to look more intimidating, fully aware that they were nowhere near functional.

[Lily_Bell]

The strength of Mole's anxiety was like an empathetic cloud, detectable to xir sixth sense like the smell of endorphins vibrating off a long distance runner. Xe knit xir brows slightly and frowned.

"It wasn't your fault Mole." Xe insisted. "She could have just as easily taken that video you found and thrown it away or kept it hidden. It was her choice to share that information regardless of the risks and then her choice to end her own life rather than accept that the right decision sometimes comes with unfair consequences. You didn't make that decision for her and you didn't tell her what to do with the information she was given so it would be most suitable to us if you moved in the direction of forgiving yourself. I understand that will may not happen instantly, but we must avoid irrational placement of blame for things neither of us can change. At this point all we can do is move towards getting justice for everyone involved and we will be more effective if you are calm and not filling the room with enough anxiety to give me us both the shakes." At this xe nodded firmly.

"Tulvas can read the empathetic atmosphere. I will always be aware of your emotional state, and sometimes I'll be able to deduce the cause of it. Now, let's move forward by watching this eye. I had an accomplice who was able to send my equipment down here illegally so we should be able to watch and even enhance thenvideo where necessary."

[Four Dirty Paws]

do you like the person you've become?
+Johannes V. Morrigan+

One could find Morrigan cleaning up after that little bit of fun with Nimue on his autopsy table. He was much more inclined to be cutting people apart rather than sewing them back together again, but her lovely screams had more than made up for the trouble she caused him. The money was nothing - that was to feed another habit of his when he wasn't working, and that wasn't often these days. His hands were trembling just a little, but he didn't pay any mind at the moment as he hosed down the stark metal table in the center of the room. It wouldn't matter soon, the shakes. He'd worked through worse. He was nothing if not for his level of control over his own body to the point where it was nearly monstrous. Junkies in his state would have been near incoherent and half-mad with need. He'd worked through worse.

Once it was clean to his satisfaction and the tools had been rinsed and set in the autoclave - an ancient technology but most effective when his options were limited - he heard a light thump outside his workroom. The voices that had been arguing - Serena's grated on him like nails on a chalkboard - moved away then. He waited til it was completely silent, then went to go investigate. Outside the big sliding door entrance to the freezer section was a body. Most likely Serena's. The poor b*****d was scrawny and had a knife through his forehead. There wasn't much to him, but he'd see what he could salvage from the body. Still in his relatively clean apron and his shirtsleeves rolled up, he left the comfort of his workroom long enough to grab the body by the ankles and dragged him unceremoniously by an ankle into the freezer. The heavy door slid slowly across its rollers and slammed shut with a deep echoing bang.

Morrigan's workroom - the Butcher fondly regarded it as such - was a long rectangular room sectioned out into three. It took up the whole length of the Underground against one side, the hallway dividing it from any other rooms on his level. There was one main entrance, the huge sliding doors, and a back exit at the other end. He liked the front entrance; it gave so much more of a terrifying impression. The back entrance was just like walking into a doctor's office. The front was like walking into some horrifying slaughterhouse. And the bang of that big door sliding home did wonders on a person's nerves. So starting from the main entrance to the back was thus: the freezer, the slaughterhouse, the exam. The freezer was a little less than half filled with bits and pieces of varying sizes. These were pieces of past victims, some even whole bodies, to be used in a pinch when Serena or Johnny or both were hurting badly for a meal. Or if Morrigan had some work to be done and had no fresh subjects to work with. Though that was not ideal at all. Next came the slaughterhouse. The slaughterhouse consisted solely of steel walls, cement floor slanting toward the center where there was a big drain set in, multiple hooks of varying sizes and thicknesses hanging from the ceiling, and two layers of slatted plastic curtains protecting the other two rooms from the splatter. That was where he did the draining and evisceration if he was preparing meat and not experimenting. The exam was for the experiments and the occasional patch jobs he had to do on his teammates. It was as clean and sterile as a doctor's office, thanks to the big double doors protecting that room from the slaughterhouse. Here he had all the tools and necessary equipment at his disposal. Most of it came from his own collection, spirited away to him from his Upper Earth clinic thanks to a few friends, after his great disgrace.

Enough of that though. Morrigan's train of thought came back to the task at hand after dragging the poor b*****d into the slaughterhouse. He pulled a knife from the rack against one wall full of all nasty instruments used in the drainage and skinning and preparing of large game. It was slim and sharp as a scalpel. Johnny occasionally bitched at the amount of coin that went into keeping those knives sharp as ********, but Morrigan wouldn't allow anything less than perfect condition, not when it came to his work. With a practiced jab and slice, he neatly inserted the knife between the achilles' tendons and the ankle bones. Then he pulled a pair of matching hooks, not too thick, down from the ceiling, the chains clanking gently over the pulley above their heads. As though he were working with a pig carcass, he jammed the hooks into the incisions in the corpse's heels and went to a panel in the wall, hitting a couple buttons. The mechanics clanked and groaned - mostly for effect - as the hydraulic winches pulled on the chains, hoisting the corpse up by its heels to hang upside down, until Morrigan was happy with the height.

A low square bucket sat in the corner, and he kicked it underneath the body hanging like a carcass in a butcher shop window. The good doctor knelt on one knee, pants protected by the oil-slick leather apron. Another knife was in his hand. He grabbed the carcass's hair in his free gloved hand, to yank the head back and up, baring the throat, adam's apple stark against the death-pale skin. In one practiced and steady movement, he slit the throat, deep enough to get the carotid artery and jugular vein but not deep enough to ruin the trachea. Once those major vessels had been completely severed, it wouldn't take long to drain the body completely. It made the loveliest sound, hitting the bottom of the plastic tub as it splattered and flowed from the cut throat. Morrigan stepped back to watch it for a moment. Like cattle, a fitting end. While the body drained of its most vital fluid, he began making a mental checklist of all the parts that were salvagable and what Serena and Johnny liked best. Sure, it had been Serena's kill, but she was rude enough to dump it on him without so much as a how-do-you-do, so she wasn't going to get everything for herself. That was just tough titty. Don't ******** with the Butcher, or you'll find your order short a pound or three.

[Betty Bomber]

▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ ▉ ▊ ▋ ▌ ▍ ▎ ▏ ▐ Ⓙohnny▐

Johnny relaxed into Serena's antics... This was the gentle tide after the tidal wave. This happened often, on varying scales. That blooded run she had drawn in his skin was just a tiny little thing, a warning shot. He likened it to a monstrous mutant kittens petulant defenses. Once that was over with and he assuaged her insecurities, they could both chill the ******** out and look at the job at hand. He felt her coming around to the side of him, and he turned his head to watch her from the corners of his eyes, still as stone when she plucked the cigarette from his lips. Her smile was pointed, sweet. It wasn't likely anyone else thought she could even -look- coy, it took a savage cannibal to see that in her, pointed teeth and all. He snorted shortly through his nostrils and slapped the folder closed as her palm lifted to cup the line of his rototiller jaw, the muscle there twitching under her fingers. He studied her face this close to him with sated black eyes, his expression softening. Yeah, she knew him alright. They would get hopped up on adrenaline, and blaze a trail of destruction specific to there brand. "sit on your hands, Serena" he said lowly.

He was wordless as he watched her leave, letting go of a deep and audible sigh. He dropped the folder on his desk and looked to the shrinking pile of staff reports, both in and out going. Nimue had been in here, and he knew where she was now. The hulking cannibal moved dutifully to a panel in the wall, just a singular box that he pushed the pad of his thumb into, And a hollow rectangle slid open in the iron. Under that dull metal a steady and lively hum activated. Inside, was a line of five lethal weapons. To the farthest right, a spear point machete meant specifically for stabbing and brutal slaughter. The handle was wrapped in thick Outland reptile hide, obviously repeatedly repaired. He blasted a sharp approving whistle from between his teeth and took it from it's hanger, scheathe and all. To the farther left, a gargantuan meat hook with an attachment that fit the chain lying on the floor of the inlayed box, a thick linked sleeping iron snake. He snatched up the hook, machete and chain and slammed the sliding metal door shut again.

When Johnny dressed for go time, he always armored up. This meant the chain he carried with him was wrapped around his midsection and coiled around his right arm. Underneath the tough leather was a layer of chain mail, Kevlar and ceramic plates that armoured his most vulnerable areas. The right sleeve was missing to allow greater movement of the chain. He snapped a wire mesh mask around his face, a black heavy duty plastic mouth piece with vertical slats covered his lips and chin. He grunted starkly and slung the machete diagonally across his back and slid the meat hooks slim neck into the deepest pocket at his breast plate. Iron knuckled black gloves were pulled hastily over his big hands, and lastly his lank black hair was pulled back into a low tail and stuffed into the high collar of his jacket.

Swiftly, he was stalking out of that dark office and locking all the dead bolts noisily, heading with purposeful brisk strides into to the rec room in something of a hurry. He flew past the doorway and spied Goof Member chatting it up with b***h Bird. Johnny stopped short of them, looking comically dark and giant in such a relaxed setting. In the sudden quiet, a chizz commercial jingled merrily.

"Damage Report. Hand it over" he barked behind Nimue, snapping his palm out to her.

[Four Dirty Paws]

Your hands protect the flames from the wild winds around you.
+Nimue Daelnar+

Nimue groaned dramatically where she lay on her face on the countertop, face half-obscured by her long pink tresses. He was right behind her. She could practically feel his hand hovering over her shoulder though she knew he wasn't that close. Welp, she was going to make him work for it. She saw him as the main cause of her fantastically shitty night, and by the Maker she was going to make things difficult for him. She had to hold back a grin.

"C'mon, Boss, let a girl finish her drink," she drawled as she sat herself up with more effort than was necessary, just to be dramatic about it. Nimue knocked back the drink Apollo had made her - he wasn't a bad bartender! Then she picked up the finished report and slowly turned on her stool to face him. Her dainty round pink eyebrows shot up in surprise at his getup. He hadn't said anything about leaving. Well good, it'd get him and maybe even Serena out of her hair for the night. Maybe she could even slip out and actually take the night off, it's not like he'd be around to bark a complaint at her. She looked him over appraisingly. Their team was used to the look by now, but that didn't make it any less intimidating. Johnny was a big ********, and the black getup with the weapons only made it worse. Nimue put on a pretty smile for him and lifted the report in her hands. Not to him but in front of her chest, teasing him. "What damage report? Oh you mean this one? This little thing right here? Oh but it looks like you're going out. Shouldn't I just drop this off in your office for you?"

When he moved as though he were reaching for it, she snapped the report behind her, over her head and supposedly out of his reach. Unless he wanted to get in real close to her again. Nimue knew she was being a tart to a cannibal twice, almost three times her size, and who has already shown tonight he's on a hair trigger and won't hesitate to get up in her face about it. Maybe she had some masochistic tendencies somewhere? No, that would only be if she were baiting Serena. Johnny would manhandle her and she could handle that, but Serena would gut her in a second flat and not even bat an eye. She stretched back, her back arching over the counter, to keep it out of his reach. This also put her chest and bare stomach on display. Her clever little mind made a joke then about "master-baiting" and she couldn't help the grin that curled the ends of her plump pink mouth. "You want it? Tell me what you got all dolled up for first. And what am I supposed to do without you barking orders at me for the rest of the night?"

[Betty Bomber]

☆ ★ Cassie ★ Masoner ★ ☆

Cassie steeled herself against the uproar of cannons and blustering wind, swirling shrapnel and dump sand all around her, and the ship where it lay. She took three quick steps backwards and grit her teeth. Two voices boomed from somewhere, inside or outside the fallen ship. The first was male and bumbling, unsure of just what warning they were trying to give. Cassie furrowed her brow, her heart pounding between her ears. The ship bellowed, commanding and expectant in a hard nosed woman's voice. "STATE YOUR BUSINESS. NOW." Cassie opened her mouth to scream her reply over the cannons, but there was no way she would be heard through that ruined mask of hers.. or over the attacking sound, but she wasn't in the mind set to remember little details like that. She hurriedly reached up to the back of her head and unsnapped the clip holding the head gear plastered to her skull. It broke open and swung wildly in her curled hand. She dropped to one knee and covered her head with her forearms.

It dawned on her then. Illegal Aliens. They had completely missed the check in point for ET visitors, and if the owner of that first voice was the one driving, somehow it didn't surprise her. A poorly initiated terrorist attack?.. Maybe. Confused and afraid for her life, Cassie blasted heatedly " Turn those things off!! Please! I'm staying where I am!... I.." Cassie had to whip her head to the right, scorching hot air forcing her eyes closed tightly. Her high blonde pony tail whipped her face and neck sharply. It was hard to talk with wind flying in her mouth. Frustrated, she rolled to the right and slid to her feet, panting.

"I'm looking for a BODY!" She howled. Her body rocked forward and her fists flew behind her back. The sudden epitome stabbed a thin needle of hurt through the most wounded area, in her heart. All that time searching, and she was looking here as a last resort. If she didn't find any piece of Tanny where all the other trash went to die, then she easily could be anywhere in the galaxy at this point, far out of anyone's conceivable reach. Cassie crumbled to the dirty rocks and wreckage underneath her and snatched up a good sized rear view mirror to huck at the side of the ship, wailing futilely. "Get the hell OUT OF HERE".

Jeff Caramel

[Betty Bomber]

Lily_Bell

Tsall good hombre!

Mole drew back with Nuls retort. He thought had done a pretty good job of keeping himself in check, he was far from falling to his knees and cursing into the air. But Nul had just told him, that this sensitivity to the musk of human emotion, was a powerful trait that his sort carried... Mole twisted his mouth and released a deep sigh. If a guy shits on his own bathroom floor, and no one is around to hear it? Does it still make a sound when it hits the tile?" He wondered caustically, suddenly very aware.. there was a sense of vulnerability that he couldn't shake, with this new knowledge. Looking at Nul look at him as he attempted to relinquish his regret, was akin to standing buck a** naked right in front of him. Reasonable thought; the nemesis of human emotion Mole said mutely, through numb lips and again.. mostly to himself.

Mole shuffled toward Nul, his hands still crammed deep in his pants pockets. He looked back in his memory, briefly to the location he had fished the eye from the deep metal socket of the decimated Law-Bot. The E-Zee Pawn was in the middle of a cluster of buildings.. a strip mall, an abandoned warehouse that was once a movie store now rendered useless and moot due to the sudden influx of streamed videos on cellular phones, and an infamous titty bar. Best known for hyper crabs and under aged strippers. Mole really did hate to see the lost souls floating around that property, it made him sick to his stomach so he often avoided it. Not only that, but the homeless sleeping around the alleys... it was like looking into a mirror only a few years into the future.

"I'll calm down... for now. But if you end up absorbing my disgust somehow, don't hurl in front of me or we'll go back and forth for hours" Mole warned, winding up next to Nul and tossing himself into the pristine white upholstered couch Harvey had put into the flat.