Strut on a Line it's Discord and Rhyme
The ball bounced off the floor. Wall. Into her hand. Again.
Floor. Wall.
Wait, I thought all you did was kill innocent people.
Innocent? Is that supposed to be funny?
Hand. She turned the ball in her fingers. This was the most interesting thing to have landed on her plate since cracking the tomb - and there was something inherently wrong with that. Floor.
A woman...so ugly on the inside she couldn't bear to go on living if she couldn't be beautiful on the outside. A drug dealer, a drug dealing pederast, actually! And let's not forget the disease-spreading whore!?
Wall, hand.
Only in a world this shitty could you even try to say these were innocent people and keep a straight face. But that's the point.
She threw the ball, rubbing her fingertips together recalling the feel. Malicious, sure. Devony was unconvinced the quarry was overly thoughtful about his antagonism though. Less pathological, more rabid animal. Floor.
A man like Ringo has got a great big hole, right in the middle of him. He can never kill enough, or steal enough, or inflict enough pain to ever fill it.
Wall.
Hrm. That was a thought. The mark didn't have to be aware of his own social programming for her to make use of it and it didn't much matter where she started so might as well go with the blatant. The act of tying is one of taming, binding, connecting two things.
And he had it bound too, but it got away didn't it? Like Peter Pan's shadow. He needed to sew it back on. The Hunt never ends. (The Wild Hunt?)
Hand.
Floor.
Why a T? Cross? Inverted Sabbat emblem? Convenient given the railing? Devony didn't think that the girl or her family meant all that much in the grand scheme of things. She was nothing but a smoke bomb meant to drive frenzied animals from the bush.
Apathy is the solution. I mean, it's easier to lose yourself in drugs than it is to cope with life. It's easier to steal what you want than it is to earn it. It's easier to beat a child than it is to raise it. Hell, love costs: it takes effort and work.
In fact, she suspected Mallory had run away with the hole - torn right out of the middle of him - and she didn't even know it.
Hand.
Ok, this was getting somewhere. For now.
Floor. Wall.
Wait, I thought all you did was kill innocent people.
Innocent? Is that supposed to be funny?
Hand. She turned the ball in her fingers. This was the most interesting thing to have landed on her plate since cracking the tomb - and there was something inherently wrong with that. Floor.
A woman...so ugly on the inside she couldn't bear to go on living if she couldn't be beautiful on the outside. A drug dealer, a drug dealing pederast, actually! And let's not forget the disease-spreading whore!?
Wall, hand.
Only in a world this shitty could you even try to say these were innocent people and keep a straight face. But that's the point.
She threw the ball, rubbing her fingertips together recalling the feel. Malicious, sure. Devony was unconvinced the quarry was overly thoughtful about his antagonism though. Less pathological, more rabid animal. Floor.
A man like Ringo has got a great big hole, right in the middle of him. He can never kill enough, or steal enough, or inflict enough pain to ever fill it.
Wall.
Hrm. That was a thought. The mark didn't have to be aware of his own social programming for her to make use of it and it didn't much matter where she started so might as well go with the blatant. The act of tying is one of taming, binding, connecting two things.
And he had it bound too, but it got away didn't it? Like Peter Pan's shadow. He needed to sew it back on. The Hunt never ends. (The Wild Hunt?)
Hand.
Floor.
Why a T? Cross? Inverted Sabbat emblem? Convenient given the railing? Devony didn't think that the girl or her family meant all that much in the grand scheme of things. She was nothing but a smoke bomb meant to drive frenzied animals from the bush.
Apathy is the solution. I mean, it's easier to lose yourself in drugs than it is to cope with life. It's easier to steal what you want than it is to earn it. It's easier to beat a child than it is to raise it. Hell, love costs: it takes effort and work.
In fact, she suspected Mallory had run away with the hole - torn right out of the middle of him - and she didn't even know it.
Hand.
Ok, this was getting somewhere. For now.