Tired of it? Hell, she was sick of it. Sick of being used, sick of being hurt, sick of being abandoned. At least she was in the past. She made sure of it now that no one got that close to her to pull such crap. Her heart, shining like a beautiful pearl, now protected by the hard, scaly oyster that was her personality. She made sure nobody got close. She kept people close but far away enough to never hurt her.
❝ You are no different than me.
MOBIUS used you and threw.
you away like trash. Don’t come
playing devil’s advocate with me. ❞
Surviving Ruvik’s sick mind allowed Juli to see ghosts of his past, the ghost of a man who was used, not much different from her. However, the only difference between him and her was that she did not succumb to any negative emotions that would drown her. She moved forward. He lost.
Despite all of this, she did not let the calmness of this current situation keep her guard down. A gun was clenched in her hand, ready to pull the trigger if Ruvik would do anything off put.
Words received held no weight to Ruvik- he had never once attempted
to blind himself to the cut and jerk of reality that he had been used-
the very fabric of well known truth playing part in the conglomeration
of goals and intentions lining his brain. Composed features always
at the brim of swarms below surfaces remained unchanged
in his whole.
❝ And where does this place you, Kid?
You fail your mission, MOBIUS will
dispose of you- you succeed in it, you
play the puppet, and you know what
the outcome will be for everyone.
You have cards to play, but no good
hands- you are going to lose either
way and you can’t change that.❞
Words were smooth- like the argent tip of a needle piercing
skin and removing what sustains. Anemic eyes paid no heed
to the weapon at her hands.
❝ On all sides, you are surrounded by
strings and scissors.❞
