In this type of a setting this was sure to be the last. The next time they met was surely going to be him trying to kill her and her trying to survive. Always just trying to survive. “Pleased to meet you,” she said honestly enough before she realized she would have to give some kind of a name. “You can call me N,” she said, wondering if that was too close to the name they had given her, the name she had taken upon herself. Nutcracker.
She could sense her current companion tense as she turned the page but she was not base enough to hurt such precious pieces of artwork. Murderer though she may have been she was a socialite first, one who was good with art and who knew it like the back of her hand. She would see to it that no harm came to his precious drawings. Nut had enjoyed many of the others that she had seen but this one most closely resembled the color scheme she had picked out and so that was the one that she went with.
He agreed and her lips turned up into a smile behind her mask, holding it out to him to take and take out the print so as not damage the others as she brought out her wallet, pulling out a rather large wad of cash. Counting the appropriate amount, she held it out to him, serpentine eyes sparking with the greed that came with getting something that she wanted. How many other ghouls could say they had CCG’s Jason’s artwork on her wall? Not many if she did say so herself. “Have you really never thought about putting your art up for auction? Just think of all the good food you could buy with that money,” she said to him, putting the rest of the money away as she spoke.
♚ —— ❛ HMM… Right. ❜ he shrugged, not feeling the need to say “please to meet you too”. Going out of his way to be polite was something he never really cared to do.
He found it strange that she didn’t give her real name. He found it pretty stupid that she would be so blatant about it. She could have made up some fictional name instead of just giving him a letter. It’d have been more believable. Pallid lids fell to squint at the suspicious woman. It was obvious that she was hiding something. & that only meant she was involved in something dangerous, or illegal.
But even though he was sort of like a cop, he didn’t care for capturing criminals. It wasn’t his job & it wasn’t worth the time & effort. Ghouls were much more interesting targets than just people who happened to do supposedly wrong things. He froze in his tracks as a thought hit him. What if the woman was a ghoul ? That would certainly brighten his otherwise boring day, he mused.
❛ –— NOT REALLY… I have enough money to buy what I need. & what I want can’t be bought with money. Besides, you are probably the first & last person I’ll be selling one of my drawings to, ever. ❜
He knew from experience that ghouls particularly liked the smell of his blood. An almost invisible, playful grin graced his cheeks as he stuffed the money in his pocket, before idly sliding his forefinger against a new page in his book, feeling the familiar warmth of blood slipping down the digit. Crimson optics flickered upwards to meet her own as he pressed the base of the cut with his other hand, forcing more of the blood out under the guise of cutting off the supply.
❛ –— DO YOU HAVE a tissue or something ? I think I’ve got a paper cut… ❜
posted 6:57 pm on Monday, July 6, 2015 with 15 notes
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mama's little pet.
❛ –— how many good boy points did i get, mama ? ❜ childhood verse; where he had been kidnapped when he was very young lives as the pet human of an abusive, influential ghoul called Big Madam, who he calls "mama", who regularly tortures him to lessen his ability to feel pain.