#main;;

[slated4culling]

<{ ...And here I thought the Onceleer was a myth. And unfortunately, I was wrong. But gog, I wish I fucking wasn’t. |F

[limebloodedlemons]

gothiclolijade replied to your post “what happens most of the time when you go into heat? ;3”

}Well um... this is||useful information...{ -Cherii is absolutely not blushing like mad right now-

<{ Aw, the little princess wants to see how long she lasts getting railed, over, and over, and over again... |F

He just... takes her face in one hand and faces her toward his own.

<{ I didn’t realize you wanted me to fill you up that much~ |F

[blxkey]

Continued from here with @redeemthefall

Blake took a small step back after Ruby zoomed over to close the distance, she wasn’t sure if she should draw her weapon or not but opted to remain unarmed, this was still Ruby, right? or was the young girl she knew gone and replaced with this thing before her.

“R-ruby...it’s me... Blake...”

[johto-grunt]

pt.2

It happens for days. Waking in the infirmary, memories fading, unknown drugs clouding over churning walls.  “You ain’t shit without Team Rocket, and this is how you repay us?” “s’enoug... enough....nough...” Dragged into the familiar interrogation room it’s beaten into him. Bruised red, yellow, brown, blue. Bones split in every limb, chest aching with each forsaken thump of clenching heart.

Another day of rest. The current grows stronger, worsening as the scientists murmur about different areas of the brain. It breaks him apart, synapse by synapse. They ask him questions. In and out he faded, giving answers he thought incapable. Barely able to speak, yet words came without effort. He didn't want to say them. He couldn't stop.

“Keep adjusting.”

-

Bottom of the well. Someone was coming, slaughter the useless, send out those left to be harvested. Always ignored. Alone. Unwanted. His first mission.  Pride turns to horror. Make the cries stop, moaning, gurgling stop sToP stOp. I’m a good boy right ma? Following orders. Follow orders, follow--

An ocean of crimson. It won’t come off. They stare at him. mocking. It's quiet... so quiet.. All that remains is the dripping of blood. drip....       drip... Guard the top. Follow orders. ‘Kill the old man’ He has to. What was one more? 

oNe mOre? 

Julius fails. Pushed down the well, stone rises to meet him.  A hole above, one below. It gets farther and farther from him, crushing everything at the bottom. Dark, so dark, choking on iron laden vomit he crawls deep into the cave, knife drawn. Waiting for the intruder. He hits the wall before handle leaves his grip, a pokemon snarling against his neck.  Acker lays there until roll call, the cave cleared. Clutching his arms around broken ribs. Executive Proton strikes him. It's the least surprising event of the day.

It terrifies him. The knowledge he has to improve. Slaughter. Destroy people and pokemon alike. It won't be the first or last time he realises how much he truly hates himself. How he’d become less than human.  unworthy. unnoticed. unneeded. If he was needed would they look at him? Would the dead look at him? Sagging eyes, open maws in silent whimpers. Would they see him? Would he be the last thing they see? The thought fills him with mirth.

Look at me, look at me, I’ll kill you. need me. need me. need me. Don’t leave me. Don't… I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever you say, so please… Let me kill. It feels… good… It’s agony… The pain is benevolent. merciful. encompassing.

 eVeRyThInG.

Electricity courses through him. Hurts. Vibrating pulsating, searing inferno.   Am I needed? Does this pain mean I am needed?   Rocket wants me to perform? Obey? If they don’t I’ll die. but they do. That's why I’m being cut apart.  Punishment is affection. Abuse is need. Disgust and hate is attention. He needs it. Pain. Needs Rocket. Rocket tells him what to be. What he’s supposed to do. who he kills.

Team rocket is existence itself.

“Yes, excellent. Keep that frequency up the tests are coming back nominal. Alteration of beating and electric stimulus are proving to be quite effective. It seems the human mind truly is re-written with traumatic events.  More data is required. Send this one into recovery and watch for any relapses or changes. if it’s positive we’ll send the data into a report for the higher ups. If not send him back for testing. I think we have a solid basis here, good work men. Bring in the next grunt, lets see if they’ll survive as long as this one has.”

[slated4culling]

==> [S] Vyrgyl: Defend!

[ @allthesetrolls​ | x | music ]

This drone... just scanning him caused it to go haywire. Was this some kind of new model? The chinks in its armor were different from the others... If it was, then was it possible someone designed it specifically to go up against whatever the hell these things were after...?

Vyrgyl glanced back at his friend, seeing her trying to black bloc... he couldn’t put her in anymore danger than she was already in.

<{ Whatever this thing’s after, it looks like close enough to it for it to focus on me. Go! I’ll hold it off! |F

The lime rushes in, swinging his weapon up to knock one of the drone’s arm blasters off balance, sending a concussive shot straight into the sky as it tried once more to mow him down. Following up by bringing his sword down onto its head, a shimmer of color burst from the blade, causing the mechanical freakshow to skid back about an inch. 

It shuddered a bit, turning its sights from left to right. He’d managed to disorient it, but judging from everything else, he doubted this would last long. He turns once more to call out to Serzad.

<{ What are you waiting for...? It’s now or never, Serzad! |F

Even as he called out to her, it seemed to be recovering... The guns receded into the drone’s arms, with circular saws emerging in their place, revving up and ready to slice up some fresh limey eboy.

[slated4culling]

<{ ...Blowin’ up imperial death machines is fun n’ all, but sometimes I just wanna sit back and enjoy the moons. |F

[slated4culling]

From here: [ x ]

His lip curled up into a small smile, folding his arms behind his head as he walked alongside his friend. She wasn’t the only one relieved that the other was around. Not to knock on his pitch or anything, but Vyrgyl always tended to be worried about whether she understood the risks to her own safety for being quadded with a limeblood. It was the kind of thing you tended to need to be a mutant or limeblood to understand.

<{ Honestly, carmel sounds good as hell right now. I’m in. |F

Vyrgyl would pull his palmhusk from his pocket, looking up the place in question via Gurgle Maps. It was buried beneath several pages of results as a lot of lowblood-owned businesses tended to be, but in the end he found it. And what do ya know? It was fairly close by to boot.

<{ Huh. It says we just need to take a right then keep straight ahead. |F

[ @just-more-trolls​ ]