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sorry, slipped out.
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"i do what i want. my contracts with the big guy interfere with nothin'."

. . .

"say the right words, and i'll 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙜𝙖𝙢𝙚."
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"breaking into 𝙢𝙮 house, you expect me to listen to whatever plan you have?"

( through their sneer grows an amused smirk. even in questioning, they couldn't help but sense the feeling of bloodlust rise in themself. the desire to shed blood of oppressors, the remedy just before them. )

- -
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( they scoff. notorious around hell for only answering to the two top entities that oversee this dimension, not even its enforcement. their loyalty is locked behind several walls, safeguarded from many. )

"and why, 𝘰𝘩 𝘸𝘩𝘺, should i even humor that?"

- -
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( so this is the game. draw them out back into the playing field. an old player returning to a fight fought long ago. although, there seems to be new faces this time around. )

"my 𝙡𝙤𝙮𝙖𝙡𝙩𝙮."

( they scoff. - -
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( @heirofspace.bsky.social )

“oh my god — man, sorry. you short motherfuckers are kinda hard to avoid.”

“not sure if your current hobby is really the best for you.. try crochet?”
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( @plsinsertcoin.bsky.social )

“you know, that didn’t even make me feel good. i actually felt pretty awful doin’ that.”

“chat — clip that.”
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( @dozycandytuft.likes.earth )

“oh, shit. sorry, ally. didn’t see ya.”

“grindin’ on my chainsaw, eh? we can do *that again.”
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am i interrupting something.
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