.Μ².Μ².Μ² 0πΈ : ππ½-π·π°πΏπΏπ π±πΈπππ·π³π°π
this story ? god γ it was canine and iβs 14th birthday ββ we were poorer than poor so we both got a gift to share from our mother every year ββ paβ hated it
β donβt really like to talk . iβm more a shoot first questions
later person . how about we trade hm? iβll take my gun off your head if you give me * that β pointing to the file case theyβre
"Ah.. my mistake." Nadia admits, head tilting as she attempts to pull an energy signature from the other. Unfortunately for her, she hasn't the time to really process it.
"Now, can't we talk it out?" She asks, eyes starting to glow a supernatural green. "No sense in bloodshed."
β at* at* i aint a man . now give me them things you got in yer hand nβ iβll be on my merry way . β chirped . theyβre tilting their head at her .
β or i can just take it from
The pressure of steel to her temple makes her purr, a sound she's sure is unexpected but she makes no move to conceal it. She chuckles, eyes meeting the red hue of his mask.
"But you're capable of it, no? Iβm not in the business of letting men this close and yet..here we are."
β i dont give one rβ five fucks what you are ββ yer easy pickinsβ .
gimme that * β snatching the files from his hand γ now guiding the journalist at gunpoint to t
the ground . β hands on yer head .β
slooooowly reaching his arm behind his back to hand over the files he had been rummaging through , " ... h-- hey , man , i'm just some second grade journalist , okay ? not worth anything , heh ... heh . "