i'm a hold my cards close, i'm a wreck what i love most
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A shrinking look riffed her brow, willingness to tempt providence quickly stemming as the premier carny in Caiaphas’ mutant circus encircled her. He was creating noises with his mouth, but she could hardly interpret the general meaning behind the many words as each lost their footing on their way out of his gob. Something about marking, danger, blah blah blabbity whatever. Engry Urchin flattened her ears and perched her gaze on Vlad as he drew around to her backside, cocking a hind-leg to release a parabola of urine that arced rather artistically through the air, making its intended x-mark well and true. His accuracy would have been pretty commendable were she not the unlucky victim of his home grown tidal bore. It was even frothy. The creativity! The realism! Truly, this guy was an artist.
Meanwhile, Luc froze in place, and on a breath’s asthmatic crosscurrent, whispered: “You just...” Not unlike a deer paralyzed in the headlights of a shitty little Kia, her eyes dilated to the size of saucers, helplessly witnessing her dignity's member falling off like a gangrened limb as Vlad's stream continued on seven men strong. She had no idea how to react to this situation–nobody'd never, ever, ever clapped back at her like this before. It was an entirely new, most entirely unpleasant milestone in her life, and the upsettingly warm sensation that marinated on her skin made it all the more traumatic.
Clammy fingers clutched her skeleton while her soul withered into nothing more than an empty husk at her feet. And as his spigot’s stream mawkishly drained to a leak, Lusca–an eerie calm settling around her–rose to her feet and wound around to face him. In that moment she was uncertain if she wanted to make her escape (read: attempt a gait swifter than a hobble), or platoon fire. You may have the hydration game down to a science, but I’m on that fiber train, bro-chachos–I’ll shit inside your heart.
She stood stock-still and glared hatefully at him in deathgrip silence. No words, no violence. A dim and fire-slicked stare.
Meanwhile, Luc froze in place, and on a breath’s asthmatic crosscurrent, whispered: “You just...” Not unlike a deer paralyzed in the headlights of a shitty little Kia, her eyes dilated to the size of saucers, helplessly witnessing her dignity's member falling off like a gangrened limb as Vlad's stream continued on seven men strong. She had no idea how to react to this situation–nobody'd never, ever, ever clapped back at her like this before. It was an entirely new, most entirely unpleasant milestone in her life, and the upsettingly warm sensation that marinated on her skin made it all the more traumatic.
Clammy fingers clutched her skeleton while her soul withered into nothing more than an empty husk at her feet. And as his spigot’s stream mawkishly drained to a leak, Lusca–an eerie calm settling around her–rose to her feet and wound around to face him. In that moment she was uncertain if she wanted to make her escape (read: attempt a gait swifter than a hobble), or platoon fire. You may have the hydration game down to a science, but I’m on that fiber train, bro-chachos–I’ll shit inside your heart.
She stood stock-still and glared hatefully at him in deathgrip silence. No words, no violence. A dim and fire-slicked stare.
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Messages In This Thread
dominion over all - by Vlad - January 18, 2016, 07:09 AM
RE: dominion over all - by Lusca - January 18, 2016, 08:47 PM
RE: dominion over all - by Vlad - January 20, 2016, 07:10 AM
RE: dominion over all - by Lusca - January 20, 2016, 01:43 PM
RE: dominion over all - by Vlad - January 20, 2016, 03:21 PM
RE: dominion over all - by Lusca - January 22, 2016, 03:13 AM
RE: dominion over all - by Vlad - January 24, 2016, 10:02 AM
RE: dominion over all - by Lusca - January 28, 2016, 12:33 PM
RE: dominion over all - by Vlad - February 02, 2016, 12:48 PM
RE: dominion over all - by Lusca - February 21, 2016, 11:58 PM