Red Alert (dtm: open)
Her face was pink and puffy now from crying, eyes swollen, nose streaming. It was a wonder that nobody else had come after them, although judging by the sounds in the distance, the rioters had moved on, and besides, any attackers would have to face this girl, with her inhuman reflexes and bright, sharp scissors. Still, itâd provide a distraction during which she could hopefully escapeâŠ
What a selfish thought. Even when there was somebody else berating her, Mikan had long ago started to do it herself. Of course, I killed that man. I must really be twisted insideâŠThis is what I deserve, right?
She had almost started to relax in the moment of relative calm when the girl was screaming again. Mikan jumped, hitting her head a second time on the dumpster; she could already feel a little goose-egg swelling that would require some ice, if she could find any.
She should have seen the outburst coming from the way the girl had been looking her over. Mikan had seen that look many times, usually coupled with a curled lip or a mocking giggle. It was a look that dissected her in hopes of finding something worth their time, and found that the parts were just as much of a nuisance as the whole (until medical care came into the picture, at which point she was simply tolerated). It was the reason why she kept her eyes on the ground at all times, flinching at every voice she heard, knowing that everyone despised herâŠ
âI-Iâm not a damsel, I swear! I d-donât want any b-b-boys! Iâm just selfish and stupid and ugly sâŠso p-please, donât waste your time killing m-m-meâŠ!âÂ
The accusations felt like a sort of cruel joke. Damsels always got rescued, but people were perfectly fine to leave her in distress. Sheâd learned to make sure that her panties were always showing when she tripped, but no boy would ever show her attention beyond five seconds of laughter and a cell phone picture to be posted online for all to see.Â
She was scum. She was an insect like the flies being attracted to the corpse of the rioter. She really did deserve to be cut open and left with the rest of the trash-
The girl was laughing now. An old survival strategy lit up the self-depreciating gray mass of her brain. Right now, her only redeeming trait was her usefulness as a punching bag. As her attacker cackled, Mikan prostrated herself in the dirt.
âYâŠYes, yes! Youâre much c-c-cuter than I-I am! W-Would you like to keep me around so that people can better appreciate your cuteness?! I promise Iâll do whatever you say! I can, u-um, do a very good imitation of a sea turtle laying eggs, or let you use me as a pack mule, or lick your floors cleanâŠ!â
Syo leaned back, perplexed at the young woman's self-deprecating speech. It was pitiful, in a way, but more so it was entertaining as all get out. Yet annoying at the same time, she reminded her of her other half, the gloomy guss who always assumes people take the worst in her. Except this chick had the booty of an Arabian queen, and therefore it was just a bit more bearable to handle.Â
With her hands on her hips, head tilted to the side, and tongue slithering around in the night Syo stared at the nurse.
Honestly that sea turtle impression was starting to sound pretty good. And Syo sought to demand a performance when a rock quickly scrapes past her cheek and knocks into the wall beside them. With wild eyes and snarling lips she turns in time to see a dark shadow dart in the night, signaling oncoming rioters. Without a second thought Syo turns back to the girl and tightly grips her shoulder to pull her up in fervent urgency.
"Looks like we've got company, guehehe... But hey! I'm not done with you, you sick slut! I just don't fucking feel like sharing my prime rib with the other dogs."
"I hope those juicy thighs are good for more than just spreading. MOVE IT!"
