Post by NPCs on Mar 7, 2014 22:05:03 GMT -6
he said, "call me the butcher" |
000 ● Jade Sicily ● event thread
You've been skittish all day and the syringe in your palm can't seem to stay still in your grasp, but such a thing is as normal as the sky is blue and the grass is green. To say you're nervous is... well, half right, half wrong. You don't mind the idea of turning a human into a gijinka. If anything, you're doing them a downright favor. One day, the world will be ruled by gijinkas and gijinkas alone. Maybe you'll even get rid of the Pokemon themselves. What's the point, after all, when you'll have a super race better than any human or Pokemon on their own? The police aren't nagging away at your conscious; soon, they will be like you, and even they will have to bow to your authority. You're not afraid of the consequences of a job well done. You're mostly afraid to run home, tail between your legs, and empty handed.
In Berund, you are known to be a bit of a monster. You're ruthless, effective, powerful, but a little on the – er, skittish side. Your effectiveness has led you out on a solo mission rather than the normal group effort. There is no black van. No team of angry part-Pokemon, part-human people ready to drug up, tie down, and turn the first stranger they pick off the streets. It's you, with twelve syringes in your possession, and you're going to turn one lucky customer into one of the first Berund-turned gijinkas in the region. It will be a sign. A warning to the people of Lyeant that their segregationist ways have ramifications, and those ramifications involve getting twelve shots plunged through your skin and into veins, only to have yourself wake up with the ears of a Pokemon the next morning.
You spot her – the perfect target – across the street of this tourist-popular location. Dark-haired, long-haired, completely unaware of your presence. Your hand is shaking terribly as you conceal the needle in your coat sleeve and try to sneak up on her in a way that isn't totally creepy. You fail miserably. “Hey, there,” you breath a little too early once you've fallen into step behind her. “Wanna see a magic trick?”
In Berund, you are known to be a bit of a monster. You're ruthless, effective, powerful, but a little on the – er, skittish side. Your effectiveness has led you out on a solo mission rather than the normal group effort. There is no black van. No team of angry part-Pokemon, part-human people ready to drug up, tie down, and turn the first stranger they pick off the streets. It's you, with twelve syringes in your possession, and you're going to turn one lucky customer into one of the first Berund-turned gijinkas in the region. It will be a sign. A warning to the people of Lyeant that their segregationist ways have ramifications, and those ramifications involve getting twelve shots plunged through your skin and into veins, only to have yourself wake up with the ears of a Pokemon the next morning.
You spot her – the perfect target – across the street of this tourist-popular location. Dark-haired, long-haired, completely unaware of your presence. Your hand is shaking terribly as you conceal the needle in your coat sleeve and try to sneak up on her in a way that isn't totally creepy. You fail miserably. “Hey, there,” you breath a little too early once you've fallen into step behind her. “Wanna see a magic trick?”
deltra of gangnam style
