@pastelcatgirl ♡’ᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴀɴ AU ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇ.
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It should have felt dirtier. Four years ago, he would have been crying
if he found himself in this place. Two years ago, he would have been shaking. Today, he was
austere, unmovable. With a back straighter than ever before, he strode through the halls of his
local Guild base as if he was the Sovereign himself. He wasn’t phased by the ominous archite-
cture, nor the Guild members who kept pestering him as he walked by, curious to hear the full
story about the “Fallen Venture.” He could even pay mind to the fact that the most professional
and threatening manager of the Non-Confidential Information Office was a shrimpy cat person.
...Actually, that part confused him a bit. He knew the Guild was low on personnel lately, but....
Nevermind. (It didn’t matter.) What mattered was getting Dr. Proper’s arching pin num-
ber so he could be ready to register as her antagonist the second his membership was approved.
❛ I submitted all of my membership paperwork
to the men in the Citadel of Attribution. I’m here
to see the catalog of available protagonists. ❜
His voice was almost unrecognizable, but only in how uninhibited it was. There was no
personality, ( save for an unintentional hint of assertiveness ). He wasn’t sure if he was supposed
to be taking up some kind of “ persona ” now that he was a villain, but he didn’t want to. He wasn’t
doing this for the theatrics. He wasn’t interested in maniacal laughter or cowls or costume makeup.
Dean had his goals, and he didn’t care to waste a minute getting caught up in the ᴘᴀɢᴇᴀɴᴛʀʏ that
made the last twenty-two years of his life an inescapable hell. L A S T Y E A R , there’s no doubt
he would have been more compelled to stare at the bizarre anatomy of the office manager. TODAY,
he looked her directly in the eyes.