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Post by Fangor on Jul 23, 2010 19:19:45 GMT -5
((No clue but wanted strike two time.))
Fangor picked at his teeth with a long claw, a bit of bacon getting caught in the crevice. He didn't care so much about privacy to take care of the problem, and soon it was freed. Stretching, the cat strode down the alley, hands brushing off against his pants. The bacon was a treat, but left him craving something else. He wasn't sure what that something was, however.
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Post by numbertwo on Jul 27, 2010 19:09:48 GMT -5
Suddenly, there was a chin on Fangor's shoulder.
"You're getting slack if I can sneak up on you like that," Pascal said.
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Post by Fangor on Jul 27, 2010 20:14:56 GMT -5
"Who says I didn't know you were there?" the cat retorted, though it was difficult to tell whether he sincerely knew the other was there or didn't and was sulky about it. Either way, he didn't budge from the resident German. Maybe he was in a bit of a better mood as he scritched the other's chin before putting a hand on his face to shove him back.
Fangor showed affection, or at least his version, in strange ways.
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Post by numbertwo on Jul 27, 2010 20:24:54 GMT -5
Pascal just grinned and licked Fangor's paw as it pushed him.
"Says the fact that you would have looked first," he said. "Here," he added, pulling a syringe out of his bag. "For you."
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Post by Fangor on Jul 27, 2010 21:51:07 GMT -5
Immediately, Fangor's demeanor changed completely as he reached down to undo the fly of his pants as he took the syringe, sitting down as he wriggled them down mid-thigh. He traced the muscle before uncapping the end, tapping the side of the vial, and plunging the needle in. The end was drawn back, a touch of red blood visible, before he slowly let the contents seep in. A cough was given, one he didn't cover, but he didn't mind it. He needed it.
"This shit gonna do somethin' this time? Something's wrong."
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Post by numbertwo on Jul 27, 2010 21:57:06 GMT -5
Pascal shrugged.
"Don't know. I still don't know what the problem is." That is, he didn't know exactly had Fangor had. "If you would just let me get you into the human's lab..."
"Anyway, it's fairly generic stuff. Antibiotics, antiviral, steroids."
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Post by Fangor on Jul 27, 2010 22:19:46 GMT -5
Fangor offered a snort. "And risk getting put down or getting my balls chopped off? No fucking thanks." His head shook as he exhaled and withdrew the needle, lifting his hips enough to pull up his pants and redo the fly before settling down closing his eyes. Nausea and dizziness always bit him right after taking it, lasting far too long.
"Rather die with dignity."
Suddenly, he was thinking the bacon he had maybe wasn't the best idea as he refrained from vomiting.
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Post by numbertwo on Jul 27, 2010 22:25:14 GMT -5
"I didn't say the humans had to be there," Pascal said, sitting beside Fangor, brushing against him. "I just need you in there to try more tests. There's only so much I can do without their stuff."
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Post by Fangor on Jul 27, 2010 22:41:32 GMT -5
"It's too risky. If one came in at the wrong time." Fangor exhaled before he shifted. "Tell me if anyone's coming." A short sort o admission to feeling off, to feeling that immediate sickness following as he shifted, head lying in the other's lap as he curled on his side, leather pants far too loose on his limbs.
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Post by numbertwo on Jul 27, 2010 22:51:08 GMT -5
Pascal absently stroked Fangor's head. It certainly would be bad if anyone saw Fangor in such a position.
"You need to get stronger. Can't go invading junkyards all weak, can you?"
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Post by Fangor on Jul 27, 2010 23:00:02 GMT -5
"That's what your job's for. Going to a human lab isn't going to do shit," he groused, chest puffing out a little each time he inhaled, every breath fairly slow. "That's why I'm getting those damned pollicles, prepping everyone else. Cinder's already started, and she never disappoints, you know Banshee's game, Rozumbrad... is Rozumbrad. And Chris is a freight train once he gets going." He took in a raspy breath, but that time didn't cough.
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Post by numbertwo on Jul 27, 2010 23:02:25 GMT -5
"So you intend to sit back and not overdo it the whole time?' Pascal challenged. "As your doctor, I order you to take it easy while I find out what works."
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Post by Fangor on Jul 27, 2010 23:11:06 GMT -5
"You're just a damn nurse," he muttered grumpily by way of concession. They had to make some compromises, certainly, if the plan were to lull into motion. It would be greatly revered by Macavity himself, of that Fangor was certain. Plus the Jellicles were an interesting batch, and more than that it'd be new meat for fucking.
The Doctor was a good lay, but he'd almost been too tired to fuck some of the victims before he killed them. Sometimes after he killed them. None seemed to match his palate.
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Post by numbertwo on Jul 27, 2010 23:18:36 GMT -5
"I have special talents," Pascal corrected. "Besides, if we can get rid of this, think of all the new arse you could have, without worrying about ruining the good ones."
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Post by Fangor on Jul 27, 2010 23:30:28 GMT -5
"You don't think it's fixable. Come on, that's bullshit. If you did, we'd have taken care of it by now." He shook his head a bit. "What's up with your faux-optimism anyway? That's like the shit Chris used to believe all the time before we took care of him."
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Post by numbertwo on Jul 27, 2010 23:33:49 GMT -5
"Well, maybe I was trying to get you in a good mood for a lay," Pascal said off hand. "But modern medicine is very strong on the idea that a good outlook helps recovery."
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Post by Fangor on Jul 28, 2010 8:21:08 GMT -5
"If you wanted some, you'd just have to ask," he grunted, though partially he shook his head. "Once I stop feeling like I want to throw my guts up."
Modern medicine. Ha. Shouldn't the other have been able to thieve it? Fangor wasn't entirely sure what to trust, what to believe, even.
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Post by numbertwo on Jul 28, 2010 8:29:03 GMT -5
"Well, you should not over do it," The Doc said. "Scheme smarter, not harder."
He slowly traced around Fangor's collar. "Even just taking it easy for a week would help. Stop trying to do everything yourself."
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Post by Fangor on Jul 28, 2010 8:55:21 GMT -5
"How do I do that?" he grunted. "The task force I have is good, but too small. Chris is doing more work at the factory, and Brad's fading out. We need to hook Brad back in." A deep exhale was given. "And then there's that fucking Rumpus Cat I've been hearing shit about. Who the fuck does he this he is? Don't answer that."
A groan was given as he pushed himself upright, hands on the ground for support. "God damn it, where's Jazz when you need the son of a bitch?"
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Post by numbertwo on Jul 28, 2010 9:01:11 GMT -5
"Quite preoccupied, I'm sure," Pascal said rather stiffly. Jazz always did get in the way of his hold, and to some degree control, of Fangor.
"And the Rumpus cat is easy. I've seen him around. He's by himself, and that is company, because there's at least two personalities in there."
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Post by Fangor on Jul 28, 2010 9:05:02 GMT -5
"What the fuck?" He snorted, eyes rolling. "God, that's bullshit. I hate all that multiple personality bullshit stuff. The fuck is wrong with cats today? Ugh."
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Post by numbertwo on Jul 28, 2010 9:07:10 GMT -5
"I think one is a little girl," the Doc added. "Still, he can beat up dogs when in the right frame of mind. And I don't think he's too bright. Could be a good tool if he can be controlled."
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Post by Fangor on Jul 28, 2010 9:36:57 GMT -5
He paused. "You think we could get him on our side?" Beating up dogs was... intriguing. Enough to completely snag his interest as he shifted his weight better, red eyes studying Pascal curiously. "Basically a more powerful Chris?" One that could make Chris a bit more disposable should anything happen. The past few years had been hard, but he felt Chris was as close to completely docile and obedient as possible. There wasn't the life, but since he got ill Fangor couldn't fuck the faggot anyway.
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Post by numbertwo on Jul 28, 2010 9:44:52 GMT -5
"Less inclined to bouts or irrational psychosis," Pascal said. "And hotter," he added. "And disinclined to wear clothes. Or speak."
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Post by Fangor on Jul 28, 2010 12:12:02 GMT -5
"Sounds like a good enough replacement," Fangor said, stroking the thicker fur beneath his chin in thought. "I don't care so much about looks if they do their job." Still, he was lucky to have such a group of individuals working for him. Partially he wondered if that was a subconscious move on his end.
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Post by numbertwo on Jul 28, 2010 12:14:56 GMT -5
"Like you don't hire us for our looks," Pascal said, preening slightly. He could be very vain at times.
"Though having both would be better than one," he added. "And Chris would probably bring Rozumbrad back."
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Post by Fangor on Jul 28, 2010 13:06:39 GMT -5
"But also Chris would soften up. You know how he gets." Fangor grunted before he pulled to his feet, straining a little, a moment wobbly, but too antsy to sit and wait it out.
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Post by numbertwo on Jul 28, 2010 21:27:32 GMT -5
"Chris is fine soft if he still does what he's told," Pascal said, his arms looping around Fangor. "It's easier when he doesn't get all psycho killer when he isn't told to."
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Post by Fangor on Jul 28, 2010 23:44:57 GMT -5
He leaned against the hold, clearing his throat though he didn't cough. He didn't have the strength to argue, more like he lacked the will to. There would be no point anyway. Chris was always fine if obedient. Fangor never considered him a personal threat for a long time, despite his unpredictability, until that bitch had kittens. Then, things were different. The last straw had been one time when Chris turned on Fangor himself, the albino barely able to scoot out of the way before calming down the other with some timed words.
Fangor was a good fighter. Amazing one, really. He had power. Prowess. Smarts. But for all the things Fangor was, he wasn't insane. WHen he killed, there was always a feeling with it. With someone as insane as Chris, it was too unpredictable. His fury came silently, but unbridled. It festered, grew, expanded. Burned.
They had no choice but to do what they did. Pascal was right there to work on mending, as was Banshee to work her ways. The brutality didn't match what he did to the kittens, nor how he left her for dead. He wanted her to suffer. Queens always suffered if they lost kittens, it was just nature. Kittens and a mate, that would do it. She wasn't a loss. She was too weak, then built herself up with faux bravado. Sometimes it was nice hearing her scream, but it was more for the sake of harming her than getting off himself. She was ugly, a bit on the thin side, grey tabbies were always boring, hair not to his liking. She did have a great set of legs, though, he'd noticed especially when he carved the M deep into her thigh and took pleasure in licking the blood from the wound. It breathed and bled so he didn't think too much about her body, not the changes as she aged.
Fangor liked flesh on his queens. He liked them aggressive and built, wild hair, fur, scars. He liked them to like pain, to like inflicting pain. For the toms, it depended. No tom would be as sleek and refined as the Russian Blue, Jazzernik; that was a fact that no one would dare question. But then there was Pascal, who was wild and unhinged. He didn't care too much for Rozumbrad. He wouldn't turn him down, but didn't think he was anything particularly special. Chris was... Chris. Almost too good to interest Fangor were it not for the way Fangor could make it hurt to bad that it'd bring tears to the tom's eyes, and at the same time watch his tail wag like a damned pollicle. That power was thrilling. It had made him hard again and again.
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Post by numbertwo on Jul 29, 2010 20:45:10 GMT -5
"Appart from all that," Pascal said. "How has meinen kleine Fang been keeping this week?" he asked. "No new develpoments?"
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