[His voice is weary from blood loss and strained from the pain. Sounds ever so slightly delerious, but no less savage and cruel.]
Redd... y'better hope I never find out what deck you're on. Fuckin' pray. Bloody coward.As for th'rest of you... buncha milk sops on this fuckin' boat. I'd a'thought better of some of you. Or worse. Whatever
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he enjoyed it.
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I showed pretty boy a good time. 'parrently some people around here never heard of fuckin' rape.
This where they put you? Fuckin' skeletons for guards? Damn cold in 'ere.
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[more chuckling]
I’m not... quite crazy enough to bite the hand I may rely on to patch me up. No, this was a little blonde kid, long hair, very pretty, wore makeup. Dressed like a whore. Girl’s name.
Lucy.
Hm. I kind of like the cats. They’re vicious.
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You WATCH your goddamn MOUTH, bitch. I won’t be stuck in here forever.
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Oh, that's right.
Nothing.
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[a pause; he sounds out of breath, strained]
Think you’ll get absolution by not raping the people you kill? Give me a fucking break.
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You think I want absolution? Vorläufer, you really are an idiot.
I just think business and pleasure should be kept separate. Good things are good things, bad things are bad things. Black and white, simple as that. And keeping it that way has kept me fairly happy, whereas you mixing them all together got you killed. Twice. And in trouble with the captain.
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If keeping killing as strictly business results in such a moronically simplistic view of the world, I’d rather mix things up a little. Good things are good and bad things are bad? Ugh. You could choke a Lurker with that tripe.
And how many times do I have to tell you, I’VE only died once? Perhaps a different version of me was killed again, but if this timeline business you people keep spouting on about is true, then that didn’t happen to ME as I am now. Pay attention to your own goddamn theories.
[A pause as he catches his breath from the outburst. The argument is draining]
Also for the record, having different priorities does not make one an idiot. I’m fully cognizant of the fact that actions have consequences, I just don’t care.
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What happened to you?
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Ah. Fuckin’... transported me to this room. Couln’ identify what deck, probably below 12. Found m’self bound and gagged. He did a bit of gloating, and... gave me a shot’ve something. Some drug. Haven’ figured out what yet, mighta been poison, mighta been antibiotics, don’t know.
Then he took my right arm off with a chainsaw - b'low the elbow. Woke up in a cell guarded by walking skeletons.
Oughta warn you. Even says... Redd c’n read locked messages. Wouldn’ be surprised, s’his bloody system.
...
Th’phrase “Tick-tick-tick citrus” mean anythin’ to you, Cad’nce?
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Your arm? My, my, you're going to need a new one. You should look into getting one made of steel, eh? Your own personal battering ram.
Hmm, how interesting. It certainly does make sense. The question is, if that's the case, why didn't he intervene sooner?
... No. Well, "citrus" is the word used to refer to a group of fruits with a high acid content-do you have things like oranges or lemons where you come from?-and the tick-tick-ticking could be a clock. A bomb, maybe? ... Made of fruit? Doesn't make much sense.
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[a chuckle and hiss of breath - a wince]
Metal’d be nice. Make me a match for th’fucker who broke my ribs. Th’doctor can clone stuff, though. I’ll hit him up later, see’f he can grow me a new one. Grew himself an eye after th’ Cap’n took his, so... oughta be able t’do my arm... BETTER be willing... s’no different...
Hmmm. Redd was goin’ on about movies, cinema. Made a point’v it before hittin’ me with whatever it was. Thought - you have different references, might have meant something where you come from. M’sure it did mean something, but maybe only t’him.
Yeah, we have citrus - th’names are all mixed up though, we have lemanges and orangmons. Lot of things seem t’be like that. We have crocadogs and allicats, you just have ‘dogs and ‘cats... s’all twisted ‘round...
[Feverish muttering, then another hiss followed by a snarl of pain]Agh - get OFF! Not ( ... )
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