The Mole's Reprise

"Careful? Was my mother careful when she stabbed me in the heart with a clothe hangar while I was still in the womb?" "Dude, that kid is fucked up."

[delorne-blog]

// Giving in

How did the neurotic, temperamental and -- let's be honest -- quite insane young mercenary feel about this current treatment?

Hungry. Achingly so. And if that meant devouring the flesh of his fellow patients, then it was quite the welcomed price. After all, he was already used to the old cafeteria manwiches before the rule change. Would this be any different? Sure, he was being forced to this time around. And sure, this time he was going to have to hunt and cook his own food rather than having it being served to him... but that was okay for him too. It would be no different from hunting down deers and ducks.

Their screams would be different. But that's all.

His pittrap (his trademark) was set to the entrance of an old building, the only light entering from the busted doorway to reveal the boy bruised and bloody -- a mere cloak. The bruises were his own and the blood, a struggle with a patient that had escaped a struggle with him. Their blood made the illusion realistic.

Laying against the wall, eyes squinting towards a figure in the distance, The Mole meekly called out to his soon to be snack.

"Please... iz someone out there...? I need help... I won't survive for long..."

[delorne-blog]

// Dig

[bleachedfeathers-blog]

Mid-snore Nanaki was awakened with a start, a shriek akin to the one he made when he fell in the pit made only milliseconds after his painful awakening. Both the quail’s hands shot up to quickly cover his now singeing iris, though no any other noises escaped from his lips after his initial cry out. This was the first time anyone actually punished the narcoleptic for falling asleep abruptly, but it wasn’t like Nanaki could really hold it against the brunette—he was being interrogated, after all!

Well, in Nanaki’s own way, he learned a bit of information himself; the gun wasn’t real. The quail had no fear of dying or being killed, but he refused to do so until he completed his last wishes. No… he couldn’t fail—and so he was relieved to find out that the gun was filled with anything but bullets. Still, fake or not, the gun’s contents still hurt immensely.

Though both eyes were watering like the Niagara Falls, the blonde managed to look up at his warden only to see a blur of colors through eyes barely open enough to be called a squint.

“I think you have the wrong man… I’m just a patient, as you are. The one you want to catch in your traps is a doctor, or a patient who was a doctor before being infected.” Yes, certainly they’d know much more than Nanaki would. At least… about the things his captor was interested in. Not so sure anyone would know about the giraffe situation, though. “Not a mathematics professor.”

[delorne-blog]

Music to his ears. Beethoven had naught on him when compared to the cries of his horrid foes, though The Mole had wished the tune had carried on for a while longer. It seemed that the blonde held excellent resilience: This was top grade lemonade after all. Even the most harden of military men wouldn't have held back their sorrowing cries. With a content sigh, he sucked in the last remains of his cigarette before flicking down into the hole.

However, the gratification was empty in the face of his failure. He wasn't so blind as to see the truth being spoken to him: No amount of torture or squirts of delicious juice would wring out any more information from the older man. Or perhaps it was because he was becoming too aggravated to deal with the narcoleptic.

With a snort, the mercenary kneeled down and held his hand out to his prisoner.

"C'mon, professor. Before I change my mind and leave you there to rot."

[delorne-blog]

// Dig

[bleachedfeathers-blog]

In all honesty, Nanaki didn’t know who Chun Li or Ken were either, but he supposed it was a compliment in some regard.

Even though he was considered a “worthy opponent”, Nanaki would still rather avoid the chances of a fist fight. The professor wasn’t known for his strength, you see? Even more so, he was completely content with their current positions—if you couldn’t tell by the cheerful smile on his face. What didn’t he have to be happy about, though? Nageki was here, Shuu was here, and so was Ryouta! Everyone he needed to be here, was. Besides, death wasn’t permanent here. If the boy decided to off him, he’d just be brought back.

Which, in all honesty, was partially why Nanaki decided to keep his gun concealed. No point in making an enemy that just comes back!

“Now, I don’t see what me being a professor has to do with any kind of kabobs.” Nor has he ever ‘shit into the mind of youth’, as he only taught math! It wasn’t even required to take his class, one could take gym or music instead of attending his lectures! Not that he cared whether or not this boy liked his profession or not. In this hospital he was no longer a teacher, just another patient. 

Still, if ‘being a good teacher’ got him out of this hole without any sort of trouble, he was happy to oblige. 

“You’re here because you’re a patient, like me. Infected with a mystery virus, you see? I’m not a doctor so I can’t elaborate any further on that.” Yes, the infection was curious to Nanaki as well, but he couldn’t very well chance bringing up his suspicions. He could end up losing the utopia this hospital has provided him!

“Also, I’m Nanaki Kazuaki. As for who’s in charge… I’d assume the chief of staff… but I don’t—” 

Ah, this much talking and the shock of falling was truly exhausting. It was a wonder that he’d stayed awake so long—but no more. His eyes remained open, but make no mistake; Nanaki was already asleep. Even a light snore could be heard as the blonde’s chest rose and fell calmly as if he wasn’t in a dangerous situation.

[delorne-blog]

Another plot twist!? Was this man, this Nanaki Suzuki, M. Night Shamalamading-dong's hidden protege? He proved to be just as aggravating, tugging him along their little cross-examination rather than the other way around.... the easily frustrated Mole was already reaching his limits as every snore slithered down his ear canals. And in the end, he still hadn't gained a quiver of valuable information.

He could almost see the seconds tick away on the clock as the sleeping fool eye's stared at him like the porcelain dolls at his grandmother's home.

And like those dolls

"Zis iz not nap time! Zis not ze time for your bullshit! Do you not understand the position you are in? At any moment, I can kill you! I can come down there, stabbed you in the ze heart and eat your--" He stopped himself and chomped down on his cig, the realization that not one word had registered in the blond's head finally hitting him. Crouching down, The Mole pointed his gun at the teacher's left eye and tugged on his smoke with his free hand before muttering to himself,

"For La Resistance..."

The trigger was pulled.

And he squirted the yellow liquid all over his prisoner's face.

"The golden shower iz here to wake you up. Now damn it, listen to me! I have more of where that came from!"

[trahisongager-blog]

quarantine. - - ✁-

 from what he could hear even boxed all the way up in his room, there was more of a commotion in the facility than ever. hardly a reason to go out, since he’d eliminated any prospects of ‘company’ for the longest while, it seemed. 

- but it was about time, wasn’t it? 

to set foot outside and try to get himself back into the scheme of things, because - there wasn’t much a ‘world’ to go back to, now was there. not in this residence at least. 

the notice had been what had caught his attention, —- so people that collected items like him and hoarded them all in one place could be festive, too. he might as well. 

It’d be a reason to step outside, however, and he wouldn’t refuse that. Scrolling through the listed selection he drums his fingers in a mixture of impatience and idle thought. — it was a one time a year thing, why even bother to go with something tame? 

- 

 Satoshi’s normal gown had been strewn out across the back of his chair, and he himself was left sprawled out over his bunk in his more creative attire. It had taken him a whole hour or so to debate whether stepping outside and carrying through with this whole fiasco was worth it or not. But he’d gone through the trouble, right? Finally uprooting himself from his bed, he reached for his baton after tugging his gloves securely on into place. With clear clacks tapping across the floor, he stalls to a halt just before the frame. 

Tentatively reaching for the doorknob, he shrugs and pulls it open to start down the hallway. The moment he’s slipped outside, however - the previous recluse in making’s whole face lights up.

This was going to be fun.

[delorne-blog]

Fuckin' bullshit. His costume looked nothing at all like the werewolf outfit depicted on the site: The photo had advertised the whole outfit as something worthy of some Hollywood effects team boning for America, what he received was... well, if his mother hated him, this is what she would make wear to get himself buggered by muggers. It looked like he was wearing dog themed pajamas, with haphazardly sewn on ears on the hood and a collar that bit him terribly.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck!

And for all this anger, he would need someone to displace it on.

And luckily for The Mole, he had stumbled upon the right bitch at the right moment.

"I see someone chose to dress as ze faggot of the month. Hopin' Gandalf will welcome you on his knees so you can polish and stroke his flaccid wand? Zat is pathetic."

[delorne-blog]

// Dig

[bleachedfeathers-blog]

Ah—the french accent reminded him much of his overzealous student and his not-so-half brother. But as the boy said, no one was coming to his rescue—cock or not. Well, luckily enough Nanaki could fend for himself and then some. Not to mention that his captor wasn’t the only one with a gun… and the quail’s wasn’tfilled with lemonade. Not that he was trigger happy by any means, though, so he wouldn’t be aiming it carelessly at someone he hadn’t yet made an enemy of.

Still, he couldn’t help but find humor in this situation. Grounded? Confess? Please. Even more to the professor’s amusement was the fact that the human called himself Nanaki’s mother. How odd! Not only was the blonde an orphan, but he certainly doubted a human laid his egg. Still, he couldn’t help but want to play along. It wasn’t everyday that he was trapped in a 6ft pit with a gun pointed at him.

“Understood~” he cooed cheerfully, completely unfazed by the gun aimed at him and the situation entirely. It was almost eerie how calm he was…

“Ah! My sins? Well… I have a few… Like, today, I didn’t set my seventh alarm clock and pressed snooze on the other six.” Though that was the absolute truth, Nanaki had much, much larger sins that he wouldn’t voice aloud. Two years of lying about everything—even his identity—wouldn’t falter so easily, especially at the request of the stranger! His students and colleague would even vouch that Nanaki was the best of liars.

“Also I once graded my student’s recorder instead of her homework… Though that hardly counts as a sin. Hm, now that I think about it I have less sins than I thought.” After a short pause, Nanaki continued. “Also, I’m afraid to say I have no idea what an ‘Elmo’ is.”

Instead of an interrogation it was more like a game of how patronizing Nanaki could be by pretending to be an oblivious idiot.

[delorne-blog]

He... didn't know...

... who Elmo was?

Things were not going as planned. The man was not creating a golden waterfall in his pants nor was he raining from his eyes, begging and whimpering for his life to be spared. The Mole couldn't tell if he was this stupid or he had underestimated the man's cunningness. He scowled in distaste, circling the hole and keeping his aim steady.

"You will be a worthy opponent.. ze Chun Li to my Ken. Yet, I know plenty of cheats to succeed a worthy win." Personal torture, for now at least, was out of the question. With the unexpected twist to the story, there was no telling if the man had strength to overcome him if he were to hop down and start brandishing a knife.

He stopped in his path. With one hand, he popped a fresh cigarette into his mouth and lighted it in quick succession. He puffed the smoke out of nostrils, taking a moment to think.

"Professor, are you? Drillin' ze prions and shitting directly into minds of youth... makes me sick. I spit on your offerin' of ass kabobs!" At least he had gain one hint of knowledge: The man was a teacher. So he hated him. He hated everyone... but now him even more so.

"But change my opinion. Perhaps I'll let you go, if so. A good teacher answers ze student's question, yes? So tell me... why am I here? Who are you? Who is in charge? And are there any giraffes around here?

You have five minutes."

[delorne-blog]

// Dig

[bleachedfeathers-blog]

As clumsy as Nanaki was, never had he fallen into a pit trap before, nor did he ever expect to. So, while he had been taking a stroll outside the hospital, it came as a shock to him to find the ground quite literally caving in beneath him. Though he tried to prevent his falling into the hole, it was inevitable, and not soon after feeling the ground collapse he did too right onto his bum. Of course, not after letting out a very manlyshriek.

After running from the Hawk Party, killing another to take his place so he could move freely, and fooling everyone with a perfectly played facade… a hole in the ground was what bested the quail. Nanaki would’ve laughed if he wasn’t so concerned about getting out and the reason for his capture. 

“Um… Hello? Is anybirdie out there?” Try as he might, climbing out wasn’t going to be possible. Each time he grasped for the edges of his confines, the dirt just gave way once he tried to lift himself. So, the only thing he could do was call out until someone was kind enough to assist him.

[delorne-blog]

Ah, the sudden shriek served as his alarm bells.

With a quick tongue-flick, The Mole slicked his dying cigarette into his mouth and swallowed the flickering cancerstick down. The lion should approach his prey with a becoming appearance, should he not? He chuckled and got to his feet, sidestepping his scattering of traps to reach his snare, strapping his shovel to his back along the way and switching to a new weapon. Slippin' into something just a bit more intimidating, so to speak.

“Um… Hello? Is anybirdie out there?”

"Birdy? I assure you, there iz no cocks around here to save you, mon ami." Strange terminology but he surely wasn't one to judge. A quick look down revealed a his catch -- a blond, taller and older and not too smart looking.

"This iz ze the deal: I am your mother and you are grounded. There will be no cookies and milk, no fun time lickin' elmo's buttonhole until I hear you confess your crimes." With a soft click, his weapon was drawn. A scratched handgun pointed directly at his target's head. At this range there was no chance of missing.

"Understood?"

... Of course, it was simply a well disguised water-gun. A water-gun filled with tear inducing lemonade.

But he didn't need to know that.

[delorne-blog]

// Dig

As soon as he had arrived in the hospital, the mole made a move to sweep out the buildings and make himself a mental map of it's layout. Well no, that was a lie-- the first thing the young man had done was scream multiple obscenities, break his desk with his shovel and take a piss on his roommate's bed.

But as soon as he had finished with his one man rebellion did he put his plan into motion. He scoped the north building, the south building, the gardens and even managed a quick glance around the east wing before being chased out by the construction workers.

And yet nowhere did the mercenary find a weakness or an answer. Further exploration was necessary. But for now...

"Zis is bullshit. Infected? God's constant fucking with me has finally showed results, eh!? Positive results for massive cockdraining and head to ass trauma! Ze bastard..." Muttering to himself, the brunette patted his hands down on the dirt, covering up the last hole he had created. In a span of a single hour, dozens upon dozens of hidden trenches six feet wide and six feet deep were created out in the courtyard. All in effort to capture some prey... and if successful, gain some information after a bit of interrogation.

"Come on out, you bitches..."