#⠀❮⠀*⠀𝗔𝗥𝗖 𝒊𝒊⠀⠀[ . . . ]⠀⠀ic⠀: ⠀𖤐⠀──⠀interaction .⠀❯

[ddyfckr]

VEROSIKA PLAYS WITH STRIKER’S TAIL…     /     @sux4life PULLS THE TRIGGER,

ㅤㅤㅤSTRIKER FREEZES FOR A SPLIT MOMENT, SLOWLY TURNING HIS HEAD, EYES NARROWING IN SLIGHT CONFUSION AS THEY LOCK ONTO THE SUCCUBUS — gaze that’s equal parts irritation… & perhaps, even, some intrigue. He has to actively fight against the tug of his lips —     THE SMILE ON HER LIPS, HOWEVER, TELLS HIM EVERYTHING HE NEEDS TO KNOW…     ❛❛     I don’t think you want to be doin’ that,     ❜❜     there’s a warning underneath, just ever so, easy to miss…     ❛❛     Reckon you ain’t lookin’ to lose a hand today,     ❜❜

ㅤㅤㅤHE SHIFTS HIS WEIGHT JUST EVER SO, sharp grin widening;     ❛❛     BUT I FIGURE YOU ALREADY KNOW HOW RISKY THAT LITTLE STUNT IS,     ❜❜     His voice drops, a teasing rumble, as his tail flicks sharply out of her grasp, coiling behind him protectively. A CROOKED GRIN CURLS AT HIS LIPS AS HE CHUCKLES LOWLY, the sound dripping with amusement as his hat tips back slightly.     ❛❛     Careful, darlin’. Some folks would take that as an invitation for somethin’ a little more... heated...     ❜❜

His eyes gleam with challenge; for now, it's a game — & HE ALWAYS PLAYS TO WIN,

[1ddyfckr]

𖤐  𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐔𝐒◞     /     @e-m-p-error  says    :     ❛❛   i don’t know why you thought i wasn’t going to notice, but i see right through you...   ❜❜

                    𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑,     steel gaze remaining firm :     he just wants to make sure his hearing hadn’t deceived him, that his strength, his very resolve hadn’t just been brought into question.     𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐢𝐥,     ❛❛   that so ?   ❜❜     he lets out a puff, attempting to maintain composure     &.     not blow a gasket, right then.

                    he’s a professional, after all :     decorum is necessary in its entirety, even for the fucking morons that hire him.     ❛❛   that’s rather disappointin,’     &.     here i thought i was doing a mighty good job of keeping face.     but you’re just too smart for me, ain’t ya ? i do apologize…     𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐣𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲…   ❜❜     the poison that seeps thru his words is almost indiscernible if one doesn’t know what to look out for.

[2ddyfckr]

.

[1ddyfckr]

                                                  sucking  his  teeth,  it  takes  everything  in  Striker  not  to  commit  an  act  of  violence.     normally,  he  would  have.     he’s  broken  arms     &.     noses  just  for  others  looking  at  him  the  wrong  way,  let  alone  for  talking  shit  RIGHT  IN  FRONT  OF  HIM.     glass  cracks  from  the  strength  of  his  grip,  tail  whipping  behind  him  smacking  the  ground.     he’d  have  pulverized  the  shitstain,  but  it  isn’t  camaraderie  or  a  soft-spot  that’s  stopping  him  from  doing  so     (   not  that  he  doesn’t  consider  it,  in  that  moment   )     but  rather,  IT’S  HIS  JOB  THAT  DOES  SO.     for  all  his  talk     &.     bravado,  more  than  eager  to  deck  the  shark’s  ass  into  tomorrow,  Striker  simply  doesn’t     —     it  wouldn’t  be  professional,  not  after  just  getting  hired  by  Crimson.     wouldn’t  want  to  make  a  bad  impression  on  his  new  boss,  now  would  he ?

                                                  working  his  jaw  as  several  scenarios  shoot  thru  his  head     (   brutal,  quick,  efficient,  macabre     &.     violent   )     before  letting  out  a  long  exhale.     ❛❛   —hah…     i  take  it  that  means  you’ve  heard  of  me  SOMEWHERE,  then ?     ‘m  flattered…     at  least  i  know  my  names  gets  around,   ❜❜     though,  he  sounds  anything  but.     Striker  swirls  the  alcohol,  orbs  focusing  on  the  bubbles     (   lets  he  act  on  his  impulses  right  then   )     as  his  tail  rattles  lightly  behind  him     —     a  clear  warning,  A  THREAT.     ❛❛   what  was  it,  again ?     Chester,  right ?     you  know  it  ain’t  real  nice  to  project  what  you  do  on  others.     surprised  the  big  man  hasn’t  offed  you  just  yet.     you  have  that  sort  of  mouth  i’d  be  glad  to  rip  off  your  face.     if  you  don’t  mind  your  stupid  ass  mouth,  i  may  just  have  to  do  that  at  some  point…   ❜❜

@ddyfckr

"Underneath that bravo is a fragile man with deep-seated insecurities. I bet Striker cries in the dark while he jacks it into a crumpled tissue."

[1ddyfckr]

𖤐  𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐊𝐀◞     /     @vercsikas  says    :     ❛❛   ooooh, a cowboy !   ❜❜

                    𝐀 𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐌     as his head lazily lolls to the source of that yappy screech, tail barb rattling in distaste,     ❛❛   ooooh, a skank.   ❜❜     he bites out sarcastically, poison aimed towards the pop star’s direction.

                    ❛❛   it ain’t a damn costume, keep the hands where i can see 'em…   ❜❜     his dissatisfaction is more than evident, for she caught the cowboy in quite a little mood, though apologizing for his rudeness doesn’t occur to him :     he’s off the clock     &.     he’s somewhat tipsy.     he’s not the social type if he doesn’t need to be.     ❛❛   listen ma’am, i ain’t the mood.     not that i gotta explain shit, but let’s just not cross that line, yeah ?     𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧’ 𝐲𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟𝐟.   ❜❜

[1ddyfckr]

𖤐  CHAZWICK◞     /     @bouj33muse  says    :     ❛❛   actually,  you're  not  as  bad  as  people  say...     you  are  so  much  worse.   ❜❜

                                                   he  had  said  this  just  as  Striker  was  attempting  to  take  a  bit  of  his  burger,  jaw  unhinged,  caught  just  in  the  middle  of  it.     spiral  orbs  flicker  to  the  other  in  annoyance,  mouth  slowly  closing shut.     the  food  is  placed  back  onto  the  plate,  appetite  momentarily  forgotten  as  he  ponders,     ❛❛   —hn,  that  so ?     normally  i’d  take  that  as  a  compliment.     means  i’m  doing  shit  right,   ❜❜     &.   Striker  fully  believes  it  too     —     Chaz’s  words,  HIS  ATTEMPTS  AT  OFFENSE,  doesn’t  bother  him  so  much  as  it  does  catch  him  off  guard.     ❛❛   but  judging  by  your  tone,  that  don’t  seem  to  be  the  case.     i  could  say  the  same  shit  ‘bout  you.     how’d  someone  like  you  manage  to  make  it  this  far  with  our  particular  boss,  anyway ?   ❜❜     though  he  technically  asks  a  question,  his  attention  is  already  wavering,  back  to  his  food     (   Striker,  at  the  end  of  it  all,  is  a  one  track  mind  sort  of  imp,  at  least  when  he  deems  it  appropriate   )

                                                   ❛❛   i  do  my  damn  job     &.     i’m  not  sloppy.     i’d  say  that  makes  me  a  winner,   ❜❜     popping  a  fry  into  his  mouth,  his  claw  taps  on  the  counter.     ❛❛   if  you  were  hoping  for  a  fun  drinking  buddy  -  well,  do  i  have  bad  news  for  you,  dipshit…   ❜❜     the  sentence  doesn’t  need  completion.     Striker  isn’t  any  more  satisfied  with  this  assigned  partnership  than  Chaz  is.     but  what’s  done  is  done     &.     so  the  least  he  can  do  is  set  boundaries.     he’s  here  for  a  paycheck,  not  to  make…     friends.     ❛❛   you  gonna  finish  those  fries ?     what’s  the  point  of  buying  a  whole  ass  plate  if  you’re  not  going  to  so  much  as  touch  it.   ❜❜     not  that  he  waits  for  his  answers,  already  bringing  the  plate  to  his  side  of  the  booth.

[ddyfckr]

"Stop giving orders. On you, they sound so silly."

ㅤㅤㅤ& just in that moment, as simple as that, do the few remnants of what resembles patience begin to burn away; Striker’s smirk falters just ever so, if only for a fraction of a second, before settling into something sharper —ㅤthis is a wolf baring its teeth under the pretense of a smile. He doesn’t miss the other’s condescension,ㅤ[ they slither under his skin like nettles, prickling at the thin veneer of patience he’s managed to hold, mocking… ]ㅤIf one were to focus, sizzling could be heard practically smoking out of the imp’s ears.ㅤThe Goetia should be rather thankful of Striker’s willingness to… negotiate / his endless tolerance for his kind,ㅤ❛ Hah, ❜ㅤ[ had the birdy-bitch not been paying him gold & silver, the weight of her coin heavy in his mind, Striker would have long snapped his tether, reduced Stolas to nothing more than a memory etched in Striker’s blade, ]ㅤfinger-pads rub in something of a self-soothing gesture, a slow, deliberate motion; the laugh has been low, humorless, slipping past like the hiss of the snake is, only barely concealing the storm brewing in his chest.

ㅤㅤㅤThe air seems to grow heavier, as if the room itself holds its breath.ㅤ❛ See, your highness; that’s the funny thing about orders,❜ㅤhis low voice drawls, carrying the heavy restrained of barely-restrained sadism, the need to spill blood;ㅤgolden orbs darken,ㅤ❛ They’re only silly when they come from someone who ain’t holdin’ the leash… ❜ㅤtail flicks sharply behind them both, a whip slicing through the tension; he clicks his tongue, a mockery of sympathy perhaps,ㅤ❛ Y’know, ❜ㅤhe murmurs, his voice dropping to a near-whisper,ㅤ❛ I’m not known for having much patience; not exactly a virtue o’ mine, you understand. I’d watch that tone if I were you… that is, unless you’re real keen on seein’ what happens when my patience runs out. ❜ㅤHe steps closer, the echo of his boots deliberate, reverberating through the space like the ticking of a clock counting down.ㅤThe dim light casting shadows that seem to creep & twist along the walls. Golden gaze burns through; unflinching, unrelenting —ㅤa predator locking onto its prey,

ㅤㅤㅤHe tilts his head just ever so, his smirk returning but now razor-thin, stretched over in a parody of friendliness;ㅤ❛ But hey, ❜ㅤhe continues, straightening, his smirk turning even more wicked if such a thing is possible…ㅤ❛ Keep testin’ me. I ain’t opposed to remindin’ you just who’s holdin’ the reins here; even caged prey bites when pushed too far;ㅤimagine what a snake does, ❜

[1ddyfckr]

                    𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐗𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒     for Striker to get a quick mental file of what he’s working with whenever he’s meeting new folks.     this one, admittedly, takes around four seconds total.     a little longer than most, but that’s only because of the sinner’s additional height     ( it takes most of his patience not to scoff out loud; he isn’t fond of royals, but sinners were around the top of his list, )     though, just as quickly, his eyes set back to his drink.

                    his signature grin makes itself known, licking the top of his lips as he puts on his familiar charm,     ❛❛   guess you could say i’m a bit…     𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞,     oh but please,   ❜❜     he leans back, holding the sinner’s gaze,     ❛❛   do tell me where an ol’ cowboy can get some quality entertainment ‘round these parts.     i’m guessing you’re the star of this establishment :     say, i’ve heard a bit ‘bout you.   ❜❜     who hadn’t, exactly ?     but well, most folks, including himself, loved to be given the opportunity to yap on about themselves     ( so that’s what he’d do, he’d let the guy talk ).

                    he breathes out a light chuckle, not backing away from the close proximity :     𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲.     his facade breaks just ever so, actually snorting out this time, though not too unkindly,     ❛❛   oh please fluff, what exactly d’ya know about strong shit ?     but nevermind that, i’m actually here for the bossman.     think i could talk to him for a few minutes ?     i’m here on a call,   ❜❜     he gives off a small wing, grin widening just ever so.     as quick as lightning, he produces a card from the lapel of his jacket     —     he never goes in with the expectation for someone to know he is     ( it’s more fun to introduce himself, )     ❛❛   𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞’𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐫, 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲.   ❜❜

cowboy casanova. the first thought that flutters across angel dust's mind the moment he lays eyes on the newcomer ; he's handsome, confident, & he walks with a purposeful swagger. a far cry from most of valentino's usual clientele. so many of them come in like wet dogs looking for shelter from the rain -- trembling, uncertain, longing for a taste of something they don't dare admit to. this fellow, however, exuded danger. he knew things no one else here seemed to. that made him dangerous.

angel takes it upon himself to go & greet this unique stranger. what western movie did'ya just come out of, sweetheart ? the routine is the same ; fluff up his chest, lower his eyes, bat his lashes. walk hips first.

" well, can't say i've seen you around here before, " he says, voice toned as if only for the two of them. he's saddled up close, now, but not touching. still a hair's breadth away.

" ya don't really like like one'a val's customers. ya sure you didn't stumble into the wrong place ? i can get'cha a drink. on the house. or . . . somethin' STRONGER, if that's what you're after. "

/ @ddyfckr . starter call .

[ddyfckr]

ㅤㅤㅤHe leans against the doorway of the dimly lit seedy bar, the faint glow of the flickering neon sign above them casting wicked, jagged shadows over his leisure sharp frameㅤ[ low hum & murmurs of conversation, clink of glasses & just the ever faint twang of a busted up, out-of-tune jukebox; all these fill the air, nothing more than background noise ]ㅤGolden slits gleam like a vice under the brim of his hat as he scans the room, a predator sizing up the herd, ready for his next kill; what he finds is not disappointing:ㅤthe horns are a dead giveaway. The cowboy’s lips curl into a slow / dangerous smirk as he steps inside; jingle of his spurs deliberate as they cut through the shit-noise with every step. There’s no rush in his steps —ㅤhe’s savoring this moment,

ㅤㅤㅤSliding up next to the bar, leaning one arm against it as he takes the stool next to rodeo-clown imp,ㅤit’s second nature, how casual it all is, the way he moves. For a moment, Striker says nothingㅤ[ his presence should be enough; & isn’t it always? ]ㅤa calculated silence,ㅤ❛ Funny to run into you again, Blitzy… ❜ㅤhe drawls out, voice oozing poison & syrup, thick with Hell’s equivalent of Southern charm.ㅤAs if in a show of good faith & a temporary cease-fire, he tips his hat back, eyes locking onto Blitzo / @blitzs with a sharpness meant to cut that hardest stone ( & this, folks, is him being friendly… )ㅤ❛ Drownin’ your sorrows here…ㅤI guess even clowns gotta take the face-paint off sometime, yeah? ❜ㅤhe picks up a glass of whiskey that slides his way with practiced grace, swirling the amber liquid before taking a slow, measure slip.ㅤNot once does his smirk falter, instead somehow growing sharper as he continues,ㅤ❛ What’s the matter? Did a job go sour? ❜ㅤHis tone is laced with mockery, but there’s an edge of something darker beneath it, something that hints at unfinished business, voice dropping down to a murmur,ㅤ❛ Or is it problems in the sack; cain’t satisfy the blue-blood shit-stain? ❜

ㅤㅤㅤHe laughs, claws to the chalkboard, screechy & raspy, like he’s said the funniest shit in all of Hell,ㅤ❛ Don’t mind me; I ain’t here to spoil your drink… ❜ㅤnot at this moment, anyway.ㅤ❛ You’re a hard imp to pin down; slippery like piss-stank grease on a hell-hog. I mean, you weren’t hard to find, but you sure put up a fight. Anyway,ㅤcheers; life’s a cruel bitch, but damn if she don’t make things interestin’... ❜ㅤhe raises his glass in a mock toast before drowning it in one smooth motion,

[ddyfckr]

❛ are you following me ? what … what do you want ? money ? ❜

( for Sophia ! )

ㅤㅤㅤA smirk curls onto his lips; voice cuts through the air. The imp tilts his hat back just ever so, golden eyes catching the faint glow of the streetlights as he surveys her; there’s a flicker of amusement in his gaze, like a cat toying with a mouse —ㅤ❛ Followin’ you? ❜ㅤhe asks, his voice low & smooth, that Wrathian lilt dripping with mockery.ㅤ❛ Now see, darlin’, don’t flatter yourself. If I were followin’ you, you wouldn’t even know I was there, ❜ㅤhe lets the words hang for a moment; this is a predator’s patience.

ㅤㅤㅤThe sound of him stepping closer is the only thing breaking the silence.ㅤ❛ As for what I want... ❜ㅤ[ Grin widens, sharp & dangerous, before clicking his tongue as if in thought, ]ㅤ��� Money’s nice, sure, but I reckon there’s more… valuable things in this world than a handful o’ cash. Information, for instance. Like a bit o’... entertainment. You understand where I’m gettin’ at here, ma’am? Heard a lot about you, actually… ❜ㅤHis tone teetering between teasing & menacing, a dangerous combination;ㅤ[ a fine balance he knows how to wield well, ]

ㅤㅤㅤComes with the job, after all. Striker leans in just ever so, amused gaze locking onto hers, unflinching.ㅤ❛ You’re a curious one, though, ain't cha? Maybe I’m just tryin’ to figure out what makes you tick. Don’t think that’s a crime… ❜ㅤHis smirk lingers, daring her to answer — he stays in place, arms crossing lazily over his chest,

[ddyfckr]

❛❛     IS THIS YOUR IDEA OF INTIMIDATION ? Because I've got news for you – IT'S NOT WORKING…     ❜❜     For one who's been witness to countless horrors most unfathomable in the swirling depths of hell's despair, this particular… pickle isn't so much as frightening as it is inconvenient ( THOUGH, ADMITTEDLY, TERRIBLY EXCITING! )     ❛❛     —PERHAPS, we should find something that works for both of us…     ❜❜     HE DOESN'T ALWAYS MEAN TO SOUND PURPOSELY ENTICING, but seduction's sweet promise is difficult to rend from the prince's skilled tongue, always ready to lash & delight; nor is it from the half-lidded look in his inviting crimsons, meticulously roving over the striking ( HAH! ) figure of his unexpected cowboy captor, as he eases into his restraints, ( ANYONE CAN BE SEDUCED IN SOME FORM OR ANOTHER, BY SOMETHING'S SWEET PROMISE - NOT ALWAYS SEXUAL; IT'S A MATTER OF PUSHING SOME BUTTONS & GLEAN WHAT MAY MAKE THEM TICK. )     /     @grimowled PULLS THE TRIGGER,

ㅤㅤㅤA CHUCKLE ESCAPES HIS THROAT, LOW & ROUGH; COLOR HIM AMUSED! Posture seemingly relaxed as he leans back, arms crossed over the chest; IT’S THE EYES THAT GIVE IT AWAY, TRULY, IF ONE WERE TO PAY ATTENTION; narrowed to pinpricks, invisible even, GLINTING DANGEROUSLY LIKE SHARP SUNLIGHT, watching his hostage squirm in, what he’s noticing, not fear, but something else,

ㅤㅤㅤTHE PRINCE’S WORDS / TONE ROLL OFF LIKE HONEY; no doubt works with the lessers,     ❛❛     Intimidation, you say?     ❜❜     HE ISN’T TO BE OUTMATCHED, not even in this. He tips his hat back just ever so, providing the royal fuck a better view of his sharp grin. LET HIM SEE WHERE HIS EFFORTS GET HIM,     ❛❛     Oh darlin’     ❜❜     the word drips with mockery, poison manifested,     ❛❛     You think this is me tryin’? I'm almost flattered...     ❜❜

ㅤㅤㅤHE STEPS CLOSER, BOOTS CLICKING SOFTLY AGAINST THE FLOOR, HIS SPURRED TAIL FLICKING BEHIND HIM LIKE A WHIP — A WARNING, A THREAT; stopping just short of Soltas’s reach, gaze raking over the restrained royal with deliberate slowness,     ❛❛     Y’know, I’ve met a lot of high-born types like you. ALWAYS THINKIN’ THEY’RE ONE STEP AHEAD, that they’ve got everyone dancin’ to their tune, especially towards us imps…     ❜❜     A CLAWED FINGER TRACING THE EDGE OF THE TABLE BETWEEN THEM AS HIS SMIRK WIDENS,     ❛❛     BUT YOU? You ain’t even pretendin’, are ya?     ❜❜     he chortles, straightening as his grin twists into something else, eyes gleaming like a vice,

ㅤㅤㅤ❛❛     THING IS, I ain’t lookin’ to bargain with you, YOUR HIGHNESS… I’ve got my eye on the prize, & no amount of... sweet talk is gonna get me to loosen my grip. Nice try, though…     ❜❜     HE STEPS BACK, ARMS CROSSING AGAIN, HIS SMIRK LINGERING.     ❛❛     But hey, keep at it. WHO KNOWS ?     Maybe you’ll find somethin’ that does work for both of us. I always did enjoy a good challenge,     ❜❜

[ddyfckr]

❛❛     HOPE YOU AIN'T LOOKING TO GET PAID FULL RATE FOR A BOTCHED JOB, COWBOY,     ❜❜     CRIMSON HAD SAID IN THE AFTERMATH OF THE RECENT FIASCO. WITH A SNAP OF HIS FINGERS, dinner was served for him and his guest, accompanied by two glasses of imported wine, THOUGH THE MOBSTER SEEMED MORE INTERESTED IN NEGOTIATIONS AS HE LEANED FORWARD ON THE TABLE'S SURFACE, TONE LACED WITH ACID. LOSS OF PROFIT ALWAYS SOURED HIS APPETITE.     ❛❛     I WAS TOLD I'M HIRIN' THE BEST. SHOULD I BE RETHINKIN' OUR CONTRACT ?     ❜❜     /     @greedcartel / @arsprince PULLS THE TRIGGER,

ㅤㅤㅤIT GOES WITHOUT SAYING, CLIENTELE CAN SOMETIMES BECOME… TRICKY, BUT IT’S NOTHING NEW FOR OUR COWBOY.     [ PART OF THE JOB, IS ALL ]     HE LEANS BACK INTO THE CHAIR, boots crossing at the ankles; the faint jingle of his spurs almost mocking the tension in the room, taking it as seriously as he feels it ought to be. GAZE FLICK TO THE WINE GLASSES, then to the meal served before them, BUT IT’S CRIMSON’S WORDS THAT KEEP HIS SMIRK FIRMLY IN PLACE, AMUSED FURTHER BY THE ACID IN HIS TONE,

ㅤㅤㅤ❛❛     AIN’T THAT JUST A KICKER ?     An imp like you spends his life steppin’ on others, & is suddenly shocked when things get a little messy; on account of factors you conveniently forgot to mention… If I didn't know better, I'd say you're questioning my professionalism,     ❜❜     he chuckles darkly, leaning forward in that moment ( SLOW, DELIBERATE, CALCULATED… ) resting his forearms on the table,

ㅤㅤㅤTHE SHARP GRIN HAD REMAINED IN PLACE THROUGHOUT; eyes lock onto his employer. Striker’s tone takes on a razor sharp-edge, then, layered with something more dangerous ( WHEN ISN’T IT? )     ❛❛     OH, YOU CERTAINLY HIRED THE BEST, ALRIGHT; don’t you fret none. A setback ain't a failure. CONSIDER IT A RECALIBRATION, O’ SORTS. Just gotta adjust my approach is all…     ❜❜     he tilts his head slightly,

STRIKER LAZILY SWIRLS THE WINE IN HIS GLASS, rubbing his chin as if pondering,     ❛❛     Course, if you're thinkin' of backin' out, that's your prerogative. BUT GOOD LUCK FINDIN' SOMEONE ELSE WHO CAN GET THE JOB DONE WITH THE... DISCRETION & EXPERTISE I OFFER...     ❜❜     He finally raises the glass in a mock toast, tone dripping with mockery,     ❛❛     Cheers to negotiatin’,     ❜❜

[ddyfckr]

ㅤㅤㅤHE LOUNGES IN A DIMLY LIT CORNER OF THE ROWDY BAR; NOISE, NOISE, ALL OF IT PURE NOISE GRATING but, thankful for small mercies, he’s grown to tolerate it — AMBER GLOW OF THE FLICKERING LIGHTS REFLECTING FIERCELY IN HIS GLASS OF WHISKEY. He turns, spotting a rather familiar figure,     [ SMALL, FIERCE; ABSOLUTELY UNMISTAKEABLE MILDRED, ] & dangerous thoughts form,

ㅤㅤㅤTALK ABOUT TAKING THE CAT ABOUT TO GET HIS CREAM; smirk grows as he pushes his hat back, allowing the brim to rest high enough so that she can catch his gaze - a rather deliberate motion ( NOTHING ISN’T EVER ACCIDENTAL, NOT WITH SOMEONE LIKE HIM ) —     HE RISES, SOUND OF HIS BOOTS AS THEY HIT THE FLOOR, APPROACHING HER AS HE WEAVES THROUGH THE CROWDS WITH A CONFIDENCE OF SOMEONE WHO OWNS THE ROOM; this came from years worth of practice, PERFECTION…     ❛❛     Well, if it ain’t the fiercest lil’ hellcat this side of the rings…     ❜❜     HE DRAWLS OUT as his gaze fully settling on her,

ㅤㅤㅤHE DOESN’T BOTHER HIDING THE CROOKED GRIN THAT TUGS AT HIS LIPS; half amusement, half something sharper, DANGEROUS & UGLY all the same.     ❛❛     Even now, you make the rest of your little team of shits look like slackers,     ❜❜     is that a compliment? SOMETHING LIKE IT; SEE ? He can play nice… when he’s in the mood. STRIKER TIPS HIS HAT JUST EVER SO, wicked toothy grin widening as he takes her in, off duty & a bit more relaxed than usual,

ㅤㅤㅤHow easily he could just snap her neck; but he ain’t on a job, so he doesn’t bother… for now.     ❛❛     Y’know, darlin’, with that kind o’ fight in ya, I’m startin’ to think you might’ve been wasted on that little fella o’ yours. EVER WONDER WHAT YOU COULD DO IF YOU WEREN’T CHAINED TO DEAD WEIGHT ?     ❜❜     Striker doesn’t even falter, not once; the challenge in his words clear & unashamed,     /     [ @yeefcknhaw ]     LIKED FOR A STARTER !

[ddyfckr]

ㅤㅤㅤHIS HAT CASTS A SHADOW OVER HIS EYES, spurred boots resting casually on the stool’s rung; but the glint of mischief ( AS THERE ALWAYS IS, ) & SOMETHING MORE DANGEROUS cuts through like a blade. HE SWIRLS THE GLASS IN HIS HAND, THE AMBER LIQUID INSIDE CATCHING THE LIGHT AS HE GLANCES TO HIS LEFT,     ❛❛     Well, ain’t you a rare sight?     ❜❜     his words are smooth, practiced; PLEASANTLY TEASING, EVEN, if one weren’t truly paying attention,

ㅤㅤㅤ❛❛     THE INFAMOUS ANGEL DUST GRACIN’ a lowlife like ol’ me with his presence,     ❜❜     he chuckles as he tips his hat back slightly to give Angel a clearer view of his sharp grin. STRIKER’S GAZE LINGERS AS THOUGH HE’S DECIDING WHETHER THE SPIDER DEMON IS WORTH THE TIME & EFFORT for the trouble that the may bring,     ❛❛     Hell must be runnin’ short on stars tonight…     ❜❜     /     [ @4nge1s ]   LIKED FOR A STARTER !

[ddyfckr]

“Oh please.. Like I haven’t heard that one before…” - (( Fizz - because he wants to be a lil shit too fdkjngfdg ))

ㅤㅤㅤEYES NARROW, A SHARP GLINT OF AMUSEMENT flickering behind the obvious disdain. & THIS IS HIM BEING NICE… He leans back against the wall, crossing his arms JUST A LITTLE TOO CASUALLY ( A REHEARSED GESTURE; HONED TO PERFECTION, ) — but there’s a slight tension, READY & ON THE OFFENSE, he can strike at a moment’s notice. HIS SMIRK CURLS SLOWLY,     [ AN UGLY, SINISTER THING ]     dangerous & mocking —     SAVORING THE OPPORTUNITY PRESENTED TO HIM,

ㅤㅤㅤ❛❛     THAT SO? I reckon you’d hear it more often if your ass-clown head wasn’t so far up your squeaky ass,     ❜❜     STRIKER DRAWLS OUT, voice thick with charm & venom. He tips his hat back just ever so, tail slowly flicking behind him in almost a lazy manner. THIS IS THE ONLY APPARENT SIGN OF BUILDING IRRITATION, a telltale giveaway…     ❛❛     BUT I GUESS THAT’S WHY YOU’RE STUCK WITH THE RECYCLED JOKE, HUH? AIN’T GOT ROOM FOR NEW MATERIAL. That’s probably why that boss o’ yours got sick of your shit…     ❜❜

[ddyfckr]

𝒕𝒂𝒈 𝒅𝒓𝒐𝒑 ,