achtundsechzigbu

You. Will. Pay. You know who you are. Consequences, you will pay for them, and I do not just mean your privileges. The trip into that dungeon was much more enjoyable the second time.

Someone very important is here. Someone... yes. She knows the truth. She knows what he is. She knows what being torn apart feels like. Torn apart by a rabid dog who always seems to rebel. Biting the hand that feeds can be a dangerous hobby. Do you want to starve?

I still wish I had seen it. If only what I have no would have been something that existed then. No, these eyes did not see the way he crumbled on top of a pile of corpses and blood. What a beautiful thing. A sight for sore eyes, I'm sure. But I would have loved it.

It is almost worthy of poetry. A sonnet on his misery, carved into his flesh. A poem for those who he has killed, and those he destroyed. It could be a wonderful work of poetry! A shame I'm not much of an artist, I would adore to do a painting. I hardly count scribbling the words "Mine" and "Die" on the side of buildings terribly suiting. Ah, as you may have guessed, as far as I'm concerned, they are permanent unless someone else wishes to clean them up. I have no intention to. I think they are lovely.

I am no longer a sole survivor of this. A barely beating heart and flesh left waiting to be rebuilt. I have someone to share this with again. I had been the only one for so long. I must, must see her.

Lily. Such... a word. It is almost like a foul language to desperate ears. Blood stained, white hands, knowing his sin -- to know what he had done! I bet you are proud, Heine! So terribly proud! No, no! We must play soon. No excuses. And even if you deny it, I will find you. And we will play.

The creatures here are barely satisfactory.

That child was barely satisfactory. And it is against my recommendation to do that again. Lest I be forced to actually want to kill you. How fortunate I find mortal bodies to be little entertainment.

A good few days indeed.

Greed, do tell me you have no plans tonight. Or I will force you to cancel them.

Seventeen keyboards until I found one with a period key, because I refuse to look like an ass when I post.

I really believe red might be my best color, now. And I finally managed to clean my clothing. It no longer has dried blood on it. And getting it out of a white suit is...difficult.

I should thank you for that, Heine.

Two gunfights, and a couple spars. ... ... ... In just a week. I'm impressed. I feel like I've been holding back.

Perhaps I should lay down a few rules.

1. Do not call me or treat me like a puppy. I am not a dog. A collar doesn't make me a dog. That title is reserved for someone else.
2. The collar. Do not touch it.
3. Do not walk into the Bar I am a guard of...and shoot another employee while I'm still close enough to hear.

All of these will earn you serious physical damage.

The last will earn you a painting in your own blood on the school building for future reference.