YOU ARE WHAT YOU EAT

indie mad max oc. sideblog to gildedmarauder.

[partimecannibal]

humming his own little melody, he tore flesh and muscle away from bone and stuffed it in a bag. with hardly any animals or plants around, cannibalism was only practical, and no one would miss them anyway. he used the bones for sewing needles and knives; each of them had helped him out in tough spots before. for instance, he’d used some of the sewing needles on the gash along the side of his head, and a knife on the man who’d caused it.

he was in the middle of ripping meat off of the woman’s torso when he heard the roar of an engine, and with a snarl, his hand tightened around the makeshift weapon.

[cognosse-blog]

Toast couldn’t tell at exactly what  point she’d been totally FUCKED.  It might’ve been this morning, when she decided to leave the relative  safety of the Citadel for a solo ride in territory she wasn’t very familiar with. It might’ve been when she  rode off on the first bike she saw with out checking the fuel levels. Then again, it could’ve been a few brief moments again when her bike had  sputtered ago and DIED out in the middle of the wasteland, but the  topper, the one she would’ve bet her rations on, was whens he realized that the man before her was not,  in fact, trying to heal the woman at  his feet.                                                 ❝–shit.❞

She’d heard of people like this,  people who PREYED on other  people, but she’d thought it a  myth, a night-time terror woven to keep war pups in their nests and away from the edge of the  wastes. She should’ve known  better. She should’ve known better. The young woman  whipped her bike around and tried to rev it, but was rewarded only with smoke for her efforts. 

[partimecannibal]

two in one day! enough food to last him a week, or more if he were careful.

she looked delicious, too.

“oh, that bike ain’t goin’ nowhere, girly.” not if he could help it. “you outta gas? tough luck,” he crooned. “mm, you’re a pretty thing. prettier than this one.” he gave the mutilated body (what was left of it) a kick and wiped the bloodied knife on his pants.

she was like a butterfly with its wings ripped off, just squirming under his thumb. reversing his grip on his knife, he started after her.

[gildedmarauder]

i’m leaving for new orleans tomorrow morning. i’ll be there for about three to four days. i’ll try to get on, but i’m not going to make any promises because apparently the hotel charges for wifi use (wtf)

i’ll have my phone ofc. if anyone wants to contact me on skype, feel free to ask for my username!

[forgottengenres]

Is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?

Friedrich Nietzsche (via thatlitsite)

[partimecannibal]

humming his own little melody, he tore flesh and muscle away from bone and stuffed it in a bag. with hardly any animals or plants around, cannibalism was only practical, and no one would miss them anyway. he used the bones for sewing needles and knives; each of them had helped him out in tough spots before. for instance, he’d used some of the sewing needles on the gash along the side of his head, and a knife on the man who’d caused it.

he was in the middle of ripping meat off of the woman’s torso when he heard the roar of an engine, and with a snarl, his hand tightened around the makeshift weapon.

[partimecannibal]

        BEWARE; for I am fearless, and therefore powerful.

                            indie mad max oc. selective. sideblog to gilded marauder.

[ethereal-valkyrie]

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