10-10-2018, 10:30 PM
[align=center][div style="width: 60%; text-align: justify; font-size: 11pt; font-family: georgia;"]☣ — As Goldenluxury is pushed closer behind him, he falters backwards so he can stand in front of protectively. His eyes narrow, split tongue flicking out of his mouth defensively. Stryker is unsure where to go. If they run out, they would be soon found by the other Typhoon members attempting to steal back Pincher’s pirate princess. If they stay here, they’d eventually be hounded by the pirates while having nowhere to run. Surely, he could give her up, but that’d leave him empty-handed. His best bet was to start running and drag along his new-found slave with him, only to seek temporary hostage... but there was another plan. Stryker thought he could possible manipulate her into believing that they were the ones being victimized, not the other way around. If he could pull this off, she’d be in his grasp.
Slitted eyes desperately turned to Goldenluxury. The lion’s eyes held a facade of troublesome anxiety in hopes she would believe his act. ”An attack,” he enthused. His voice wavered, mimicing a scared reaction. ”We’re being put on the chopping block, sweets.” A single claw aimed to prod lightly at her throat and then lightly scrape itself across it’s surface to mimick her throat being sliced open. ”We’ve got to defend ourselves or they’ll take us both,” he urged. For a moment he debated whether or not if he should move his stance out of Goldenluxury’s way to provoke his cause even further, but he kept himself in front of her. The overall facade of shielding her seemed stronger to him. It seemed as if he cared. In reality, Stryker just wanted to see his project finish out before he could throw her off to the side without a care in the world. ”We’ve got to go.” Another caring gesture. It’s not ‘I’, but ‘we’. A simple word could change the meaning of his phrase.
Answering her second question, the male grew concerned. He had to skew the perspective again to prevent her from knowing the truth, seeing that they’d probably have to persuade her to join them on the other side. Stryker had to invoke a fear factor somehow. ”Them?” he questioned darkly. His voice had changed, growing distant and cold, signaling his discontent with the subject. ”The Typhoon is a ruthless band of junkers unwilling to leave a living soul behind because of their frivolous greed and fishy attitudes.” The way he said their name in a daunting snarl was sure to provoke a reaction. ”They’re cold blooded fools who do nothing but take what they want and when they want it...”
A small smirk met his lips. If this was the time to pull the vulnerable card, now was the time. ”We can’t let them have a sweet girl like you.” His head cranes to the side, slitted eyes watching her carefully in hopes of a horrified response. ”Isn’t that right?” With that said, he remained in place. Hopefully no one had received word about their whereabouts just yet, the Slaver needed more time. Otherwise he’d have to speed up the process with a bit more of mental manipulation rather than using his tone.
//mobile, apologies
Slitted eyes desperately turned to Goldenluxury. The lion’s eyes held a facade of troublesome anxiety in hopes she would believe his act. ”An attack,” he enthused. His voice wavered, mimicing a scared reaction. ”We’re being put on the chopping block, sweets.” A single claw aimed to prod lightly at her throat and then lightly scrape itself across it’s surface to mimick her throat being sliced open. ”We’ve got to defend ourselves or they’ll take us both,” he urged. For a moment he debated whether or not if he should move his stance out of Goldenluxury’s way to provoke his cause even further, but he kept himself in front of her. The overall facade of shielding her seemed stronger to him. It seemed as if he cared. In reality, Stryker just wanted to see his project finish out before he could throw her off to the side without a care in the world. ”We’ve got to go.” Another caring gesture. It’s not ‘I’, but ‘we’. A simple word could change the meaning of his phrase.
Answering her second question, the male grew concerned. He had to skew the perspective again to prevent her from knowing the truth, seeing that they’d probably have to persuade her to join them on the other side. Stryker had to invoke a fear factor somehow. ”Them?” he questioned darkly. His voice had changed, growing distant and cold, signaling his discontent with the subject. ”The Typhoon is a ruthless band of junkers unwilling to leave a living soul behind because of their frivolous greed and fishy attitudes.” The way he said their name in a daunting snarl was sure to provoke a reaction. ”They’re cold blooded fools who do nothing but take what they want and when they want it...”
A small smirk met his lips. If this was the time to pull the vulnerable card, now was the time. ”We can’t let them have a sweet girl like you.” His head cranes to the side, slitted eyes watching her carefully in hopes of a horrified response. ”Isn’t that right?” With that said, he remained in place. Hopefully no one had received word about their whereabouts just yet, the Slaver needed more time. Otherwise he’d have to speed up the process with a bit more of mental manipulation rather than using his tone.
//mobile, apologies
[align=center][div style="font-size:14.4pt;line-height:.9;color:#000;font-family:impact;padding:8px;letter-spacing:.7px;text-transform:uppercase;"]——– I got no plans to retire ——–
[ and I'm still the man you admire ][div style="font-size:7pt;line-height:1.2;color:#000;font-family:arial;margin-top:2px;margin-bottom:5px;letter-spacing:0px;margin-left:0px;text-align:center"]Stryker Malus — Kingpin of Coalition of the Condemned — TAGS
[ and I'm still the man you admire ][div style="font-size:7pt;line-height:1.2;color:#000;font-family:arial;margin-top:2px;margin-bottom:5px;letter-spacing:0px;margin-left:0px;text-align:center"]Stryker Malus — Kingpin of Coalition of the Condemned — TAGS