It’s a slick, wet noise, the sound of blood splattering against concrete and metal. The drip drip as it puddles, leaving slippery hazards all over the room’s floor. Not that you could even hear it over all the screaming– but he’s been listening for it. Reveling in the sound and smell of it– the copper taste coating the back of his throat like a sick blanket, and far more comforting than any from his childhood.
“Okay– let’s try this again, pumpkin.” His hands are soaked red, and he turns back to the moaning lump strapped in the chair after wiping them off with a dirty rag. “I ask you a question, and you– you give me the answer I want to hear, or I hand you over to my lovely girlfriend over there.” He’s leaned in close, eyes never leaving their captive but he jerks his head towards the shadowy figure by the wall who watches with golden eyes. “And trust me, she’s gonna be far less lovely with one of these pretty toys in her hands.” He gestures to the shiny metal table set up with lines of sharp looking instruments, some of them already used.
The captive wheezes a reply that sounds oddly like it’s telling him to go fuck himself (a lovely prospect, sure, but not what he wants to hear right now). One of Pandora’s ‘rebels’. Rebelling against him, of all things! Jack doesn’t understand why they’re fighting him, all he want’s is to clean up this trash-hole of a planet. To give it order, give it peace. Honestly, they should be thanking him for all his hard work. Instead, they send attack groups to terrorize his Eridium mines. It simply won’t do.
He sighs, pushing himself away from the chair and walking to stand in front of the woman leaning on the wall. “He’s all yours, cupcake.”
[ ms kaDAMN ] [TXT] okay but seriously hear me out on this one [TXT] JACKVILLE [TXT] or how ‘bout “NEW new haven” [TXT] that’ll really stick it to all those bandits [TXT] your thoughts
@hypelios {Sugar Tits} [TXT] wow lame [TXT] Tortue Town sounds better [TXT] or like Deadwood [TXT] how did you unblock yourself from this thing? [TXT] if you send me anymore videos of yourself singing that Britney spears song [TXT] i’m gonna put my thumbs in your trachea ♥♥♥
[ ms kaDAMN] [TXT] mmf don’t say things like that unless you’re at least within five feet of me [TXT] also don’t ask questions you don’t wanna know the answers to [TXT] also alsoooo [TXT] torture town sounds like a pandoran kids show [TXT] one that i would ttly watch [TXT] starring nisha kadam and the tag line would be: nobody gets out alive [TXT] cue the plinky plonky music
A rather amused grin melts across the gunslinger’s expression as she leans back in the Hyperion’s well-crafted seat. A humming laugh escapes her throat, ignoring the CEO for a moment as she fishes around in his drawers for a small package of cigarettes she just so happened to know he had lying around somewhere. There’s one left, seems like Handsome has had a lot on his plate lately. Too bad, she was just in the mood for a bit of a fix.
Removing the rolled paper she places it between her lips, tilting her hat back as she places those muddy boots of hers onto Jack’s almost too clean workspace. “Guess your outta luck then huh?” Her voice is wicked, thick like syrup as her eyes study him, waiting for a reaction. It’s times like these she enjoys pricking at his skin just enough to set him on edge.
He opens his mouth to say something in protest, but closes it before the first word comes out, squinting his eyes as he watches her from his leaning spot against his desk. His frown is a perfect curve before a corner twitches up and he moves in closer. He perches on one of the chair’s golden edges, looking down at the cowgirl with hooded eyes.
“Sweetheart, I make my own luck.” He plucks the cigarette from purple painted lips before leaning down to kiss her, unknowingly leaving himself open for her to pick his lighter from his pockets.
With a single step the shadows that once veiled her leather clad form part, as if purging their own inky substance in the form a venomous woman. She enjoys what she’s seeing, how the slick carmine covers his hands so very nicely. It’s invigorating and the Sheriff can’t help be utter an inward snicker from afar. Going up against Hyperion pah- Bandits were never too bright anyway.
It’s not that she believes in his cause wholeheartedly really, but not even she could turn her nose up at the elaborate game of cops and robbers Jack had in store. Why would she even consider it? It was the most fun she’d had in ages and with every passing moment of insubordination from the planet’s testy residents the fun only increased. Jack had tons of toys to play with in his Pandora’s box from the looks of it- those who thought they were above Hyperion law were just meat to the machine. Boy was it entertaining watching those mudsill squirm.
Taking another step forwards a click of her heal marks the start of a slow and steady clap that resonates through the room.
“Bravo handsome, I’d ask for an encore but I’m just itching to show you a bit of my own handiwork.” She closes the distance between herself and the bandit, passing the Hyperion with a wicked sneer before returning attention to her prey. Gently she grabs the strange males chin, stretching her neck slightly forwards so that their faces were inches apart. He reeked of bile, blood and filth. She’s gonna enjoy breaking him.
“Guess we saved the best for last, probably not for you though kid. This is gonna be long and painful- not to mention a whole lotta fun…” her grip tightens before roughly spitting out the jaw snared between gloved fingers.
Rebelling? Hoo- wasnt a smart move considering this guys lack of armory and low pain tolerance. “You know handsome, I always thought myself quite the artist back in the day.” She doesn’t look back, instead surveying the toys on the table beside her. They were all sharp and equally as dangerous.
Digits trace the metal playfully, a humming and low snicker audible as she picks up a scalpel like blade and examines it closer. Purple lips purse as dark brows raise in amusement- this looked painful. “You can be my muse, cowboy. Whatcha think would look good on our friend here?”
Jack crosses his arms against the back of the the chair to watch her work. It’s a good view, wide enough that he can see the way she splits through the shadows like a bullet in slow motion, shiny and dangerous, but close enough that the smell of copper fills his lungs, and he can reach down for the man in the chair. He’ll play operating assistant if he needs to, ( Hellooo, nurse. )
He lets the bolt of excited energy shake his limbs before he stretches out his arms to pull what little hair their captive has and tilt his head back. His sarcastic quips have boiled down to just manic laughter and a sharp grin. He unclenches a hand to reach over and hand her a bigger knife, with a saw-blade edge.
“Carve me something nice, pumpkin. You know how much I love it when you get creative.” He rests his chin on the top edge of the chair’s chrome back, the metal of his mask clasp clicking and echoing in the emptiness of the room. Jack gazes at her with hooded eyes, the very picture of enamorment. His captive struggles with what energy he has left, but Jack pays him no mind, not with Nisha standing there and deserving all his attention. “After all, it’s almost Halloween– and I need something to put in front of my door.”
