#drabble? drabble

[lilitophidian]

" There is no such thing as time. What, seven years? Seven days, seven minutes, seven seconds? A queen has obligations, as you are aware. And one mustn't question thy queen. I could be shouting for the gallows, could I not? "

What? Did you believe husbands and kings took care of everything? Nonsense. The woman is constantly present.

To question her, you may as well sever your own tongue.

[inter-se-solus-blog]

"Hey." Yuu's hanging upside-down from one of many auction props, very casually might he add. He has both arms folded behind his head as he stared up (is it really up if he's upside-down... eh, whatever.) at Uta. "Ya said somethin' 'bout tearin' m'tongue out. D'ya think that'd hurt?" He grinned. "Like... re~eeeally hurt?" Not that he'd let him do it, no way, but it has him morbidly curious. "Isn't that technically animal abuse? Since ya treat me like a runty pet more than anyt'ing else?"

@ieiunum  Yuu no 8  |

     ★ Staring at him like he would be a patient spectator for a curious little monkey hanging from a branch [ and even that was, by chance, meant as an insult to the poor animal ], when walking past had been stopped in tracks, all - visible - and with no mask, no obscuring features added to his person - for now. These types of auctions had a long preparation time. Specifically, shall the inviting party be the clowns, objectively running amok each and every time with their own show and own presentation, not stopping, even when being told they went a bit too far. [ maybe the desire was to hear their pleading? their begging? where would be the fun otherwise? ]. 

   ★ Bringing this little human along had, honest with own fact of stalling boredom, added to the fun when watching glances of disgust and shock, contempt rising where words would not [ for nobody would ever oppose the auctioneer ].

    ★ Head tilts to one side in what could only be called a mock-inquiry of the ‘what’ and the ‘why’ this man was doing in this displayed triviality of ridiculousness, even though Uta found it not in himself to even voice a query at all. “Hey~” Irrelevance of the word in greeting. “Do I think so? I wonder~”

    ★ And alone words like these were enough to have him move, from marginal distance [ yet a distance still kept ] further, prowling ever closer with that sway in his step telling, telling - screaming - until a gloved hand [ all the same, a part of his attire perfectly slung around his form ] reaches out towards unruly hair falling in unkempt strands, framing face and place of action so perfectly. Tugging upon one or two fine strands of deep blue colour before threading fingers deeper and deeper into mass that was quite so hard to keep in check. One would want to ponder if he was not petting that little ‘creature’ picked up by whatever whim had possessed the mask maker’s unexplainable mind. Would offer mere breaths of adoration. Mimicry of owner’s comfort and soothing touch for whatever deed done right, had been well-proceeded.

    ★ Would be in need of applause, of praise, of approval.

    ★ Before it was turned inside out in flashing moments of his own deliberately executed show. When hand twists at the backside of Yuu’s head, pulling harshly as if to try and tear out fine structures from the root, with a cracking sound in neck to be torn a bit back. Leaving arch and throat exposed past the possible [ heavily aching. would he find that funny too? ]. It’s an easy picture on the eyes of spectators and those ghouls that had earlier taking their places. Now had been left to wander about? How might they not spy carefully around edges and corners. Wonder and whisper about the sudden shift and change in Uta’s usually so eerily calm demeanour that had cracked [ and had been cracked ] so swiftly beneath the other man’s clambering reigns of painterly mockery?

    ★ [ Or so it would seem—? ]

    ★ “There are so many who actually wondered about the reason I uphold for me not quite fulfilling an easy task like this - yet~” How quaint. “It would take little for me to do something like this~ Would be as simple as to snap your neck. Break your every little bone. Take your meat and offer it up, grind you to a perfect meal for all of those that drivel and slobber to have a taste of something I call my own to keep~” Loosening his grasp in radiant colours when near soothingly caressing along ache left behind before he pulls back leather-clad hand in discarding what his mere grasp had pulled from scalp.

    ★ Just a few strands of hair - the little human should have expected such, no?

    ★ But it was not quite over yet. Flicks of wrist do indicate that he has the need to rid himself of whatever ‘dirt’ that had been gathered, so his formerly unoccupied hand would reach and grasp, mere tenderly lace hand [ just upside down like the child’s own whole posture had been from the beginning of their merry charade ] around slack of jaw. “So I do wonder indeed, is it an act that would hurt~?” Closer, ever closer. “Especially, someone like you~?” He could near hear every bone and aching muscle from position that he had brought himself inside creak and tear [ painful? ]. “Did it hurt what I just fulfilled?” Was ist [ painful ]? “Or would you not like to know how true pain could feel~?”

    ★ With the slight pressure. A bare perception of his own hand closing with help of joints and tendons, all that he needed to exert was scarce a feeling for the Ghoul at all. Open, open [ would he struggle? ]. Oh, in a sense, he believed this boy to be a far more durable kind.

    ★ “But alas, maybe you are right~” ‘A runty pet’? Oh, not even good enough for this term was that discardable piece of worthlessness [ and still? he kept him ], hand then sets itself to a trace when only eyes had been indulgent enough with the display of muscle turning and twisting - so unable to hide [ like a worm that would not capable of digging back down into the dirt ]. “I would find myself regarding own actions as nought but mistreating a runt just as poor as you~”

    ★ He wonders just, if not one of his other possessions might find far more interest in something like this. Would need to inquire about it, perchance Yuu would loose his mind and momentum; would blabber on about how the creator had done to him, with the marks of fingertips seared into the softness of skin. Then, another movement as if regarding all but a small animal in his grasp with the near chiding pat of the back of his hand against cheek. That formerly mocking smile turned near too sweet. “Alas, the show is not even an hour away, do be somewhat useful now~” [ Else ‘painful’ is the last word in mind you were about to pray— ] “The prop you hang on needs adjusting on the stage. Shoo now, hurry along—”

    ★ Smiling like all but the Devil, ready to play. “—else I might kick you out into the downpouring rain.”

[expert-de-couteau]

Les Mis AU verse:

Not much changes from the main verse with this, other than where Kali eventually ends up living. She has not several homes, but three. Two of them are abandoned, condemned houses where she will only ever stay if she needs to temporarily disappear for any reason. Aside from this, Kali’s shop is a bit different. She doesn’t want a bunch of attention from criminals--or the police--so the place where she sells knives is only a minor part of her small gift shop. Kali pickpockets people who wander in in order to pick up extra cash to keep the place up and running. She has a system of lower class kids who she pays bring her in clients for her assassination business. Kali never meets said clients in the shop, and always meets them in disguise under a false alias, so to not make it easy for someone to betray her.