TURN IT OVER AGAIN && enslaving deloria.

[B. DELORIA]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]"I hope not," he muttered, as Tsuyu continued walking after swatting the other guy, who was even less of a help than Butch himself was. Was this how Val felt when he pitched in unnecessary answers to be a heel? He would rather not think of Val right now, when he was led by a silver chain by an insane lady who apparently had a frog somewhere in her lineage. However, he wanted to think of that even less than Val, and he glanced at the slave's ruined chest with a drawn expression. Yeah, okay. He had to be smart about this. Somehow. His pretty face was behind most of his arsenal, so he'd prefer to keep it intact, which meant...cooperation. Was there anything about this situation that wasn't completely fucked?

He glowered at the wall she attached him to. Master? This was really happening, wasn't it? It wasn't some kind of screwed dream he could shrug off in the morning. No dream of his could be this elaborate though, and off Tsuyu went, listing rules and leaving Butch's head spinning. The hell? Blacktide? Collars? Beatings for everything? He should've stuck with Val, should've followed his stubborn ass, because facing his wrath was starting to get a lot more appealing than Master Sadist.

"Can you write all of that down? I don't have a good memory for rules. You lost me at...I dunno, the beginning?" Untrue, but he wasn't rolling over just yet. He wouldn't go out that easily- that'd just be insulting.

A spectator. And Butch had just started thinking that he wasn't surrounded enough already by nutjobs. "What kinda name is The Pitt? You admit to living in a hellhole?" Of course they did. They were upstanding citizens of Nowheresville. [b]"Get bent, Quill."