[Even in my desperation to touch Claude I cannot convince myself to be tender with Lorenz Hellman Gloucester.
Anyway the real tragedy is that even though she slaps him into last Tuesday, she's stuck along for the ride. Toko has the curious sensation of being both smaller and younger than she should be, and gets to puzzle over that for three whole seconds.
Then there's a knife.
She screams. Not the child, she, Fukawa Toko, is screaming. Because there's a searing gash where no one has cut her in her life, and a strange man in her bed. His bed. Their bed.
The more she fights for her life, the less it makes sense. The blows should render a kid useless, but they don't. The tables turn. There's blood shooting through the air and the swift strokes of a knife, but it's all by her own hand. Then, suddenly, all that's left is the foul air and the break-neck pace of her heart. She's painted herself in red, but there's no one here. And there's no cuts, either. Not even a scratch.
Toko doesn't understand...
As for Claude?
You wake up on the ground. Cement. Smokey air fills your nostrils, and you feel like your heart is breaking. You've got to let her go, it's the only way.
But there's footsteps coming up behind you, and now you really won't have a choice. "Well personally, it's for the sake of the game. Byakuya Togami is important to you, is he not?"
If you weren't beaten so badly just now, you'd be able to do more. He pulls out a canister. You tell her to run. Whatever he sprays you in the face with does the trick quick. Once sneeze is all it takes —
— and you're good as new, sailing through the air and cackling high, brimming with glee. You want blood and there's two meatsacks full of it just dead ahead. The white-haired boy, pretty little thing, face painted up by those maniac brats he's been slaving under, and the dark-haired girl. She's pretty too, but that's not the one for you. That one's got to go.
"Please! Please stop!"
No can do. You launch forward. The girl screams and braces herself.
But it's the boy who's left weak in the knees. He sinks to the pavement, both thighs sliced in one neat line. He goes down with nothing more than a gasp. There's something wrong with that one.
"Blah-bliddy-blahblahblah! Shut the hell up! You lanky, wavey-haired bastard!"
He looks confused for all of a second, then smiles. Smug little shit. "Ah. Oh right. Even though you two share knowledge, you don't share memories. Correct? So then, you have no idea who the real enemy is. An honest mistake, I su—"
"Idiot!" Like you're gonna take that shit anymore. You flick your scissors as you strut closer, just to punctuate your point. "It's no mistake. What I share with her isn't just knowledge. She and I also share...emotions. If we didn't there's no way we'd both love Master."
The distance breached, the scent of death rising, you come to a stop before him. The ends of your scissors, sharpened on both sides and primed to slice steel, point to the end of his nose. "And my emotions are telling me this: to kill you. And let Dekomaru escape."
The heat swells inside of you. It's been so long, the very thought is raising gooseflesh all over. Your eyes blaze with madness as you croon to your new boy. Your first in ages. "And you're something of a pretty boy yourself! So I can kill you as I like! No remorse!"
And do you?
You made a promise, but man oh man, this has got to be the exception.]
Ultra Despair Girls spoilers
Anyway the real tragedy is that even though she slaps him into last Tuesday, she's stuck along for the ride. Toko has the curious sensation of being both smaller and younger than she should be, and gets to puzzle over that for three whole seconds.
Then there's a knife.
She screams. Not the child, she, Fukawa Toko, is screaming. Because there's a searing gash where no one has cut her in her life, and a strange man in her bed. His bed. Their bed.
The more she fights for her life, the less it makes sense. The blows should render a kid useless, but they don't. The tables turn. There's blood shooting through the air and the swift strokes of a knife, but it's all by her own hand. Then, suddenly, all that's left is the foul air and the break-neck pace of her heart. She's painted herself in red, but there's no one here. And there's no cuts, either. Not even a scratch.
Toko doesn't understand...
As for Claude?
You wake up on the ground. Cement. Smokey air fills your nostrils, and you feel like your heart is breaking. You've got to let her go, it's the only way.
But there's footsteps coming up behind you, and now you really won't have a choice. "Well personally, it's for the sake of the game. Byakuya Togami is important to you, is he not?"
If you weren't beaten so badly just now, you'd be able to do more. He pulls out a canister. You tell her to run. Whatever he sprays you in the face with does the trick quick. Once sneeze is all it takes —
— and you're good as new, sailing through the air and cackling high, brimming with glee. You want blood and there's two meatsacks full of it just dead ahead. The white-haired boy, pretty little thing, face painted up by those maniac brats he's been slaving under, and the dark-haired girl. She's pretty too, but that's not the one for you. That one's got to go.
"Please! Please stop!"
No can do. You launch forward. The girl screams and braces herself.
But it's the boy who's left weak in the knees. He sinks to the pavement, both thighs sliced in one neat line. He goes down with nothing more than a gasp. There's something wrong with that one.
"Blah-bliddy-blahblahblah! Shut the hell up! You lanky, wavey-haired bastard!"
He looks confused for all of a second, then smiles. Smug little shit. "Ah. Oh right. Even though you two share knowledge, you don't share memories. Correct? So then, you have no idea who the real enemy is. An honest mistake, I su—"
"Idiot!" Like you're gonna take that shit anymore. You flick your scissors as you strut closer, just to punctuate your point. "It's no mistake. What I share with her isn't just knowledge. She and I also share...emotions. If we didn't there's no way we'd both love Master."
The distance breached, the scent of death rising, you come to a stop before him. The ends of your scissors, sharpened on both sides and primed to slice steel, point to the end of his nose. "And my emotions are telling me this: to kill you. And let Dekomaru escape."
The heat swells inside of you. It's been so long, the very thought is raising gooseflesh all over. Your eyes blaze with madness as you croon to your new boy. Your first in ages. "And you're something of a pretty boy yourself! So I can kill you as I like! No remorse!"
And do you?
You made a promise, but man oh man, this has got to be the exception.]
((Watch here: from 7:15:10-7:21:30))