| World's Oldest Painkiller [Tsume, Ginta, Kuromaru] | [May. 17th, 2009|09:16 pm] |
[Backdated. Takes place March 22, ten minutes after Wild Dog in a Nest of Vipers, the evening before Carry Me Home (and the Tsume threads that followed), and two days before Dude, That Was YOU?]
"I told them to open the door so I could rip off their faces, but they wouldn't," Kuromaru growled. His growl rose into a snarl as they passed through the sublevel corridors, past more Intel agents. As far as he was concerned, they were probably all in on it, and therefore equally worthy of his anger.
"Well, hang onto that ripping of faces. When Botan gets out of here--"
"I'm going to rip off his face so much."
Tsume nodded grimly, shoving into the stairwell and hammering up. "Me, too. Bite off his other pinky."
Kuromaru's tail wagged enthusiastically. "I can't believe they just locked me in a cell. Why didn't they interrogate me? I'd have told them."
Tsume didn't point out that they were probably more worried about his ripping their faces off. The second floor came and went.
"And then, if they didn't believe me or made you smell upset, I'd have ripped their faces off."
Tsume slammed through the third floor doorway. "You'd have gotten us both killed for treason, Kuromaru."
"Humph."
They stalked, stiff-legged and radiating anger, into their apartment. Kuromaru pounced on a sock, grabbing it up and shaking it furiously.
"Don't tear my things," Tsume barked at him, heading into the bathroom to wash her face and hands. Wolf's teeth, she was going to have to change her clothes. They reeked. She stormed out, shoving the apartment door closed, and stripped out of her pants and shirt, tossing both into the hamper.
"Those, too," Kuromaru said, teeth bared.
Scowling, Tsume stripped right down to her skin, found fresh underwear and another sports bra, then pulled on a pair of black cargo pants and a zip-up gray hoodie. "Better?"
He was staring at the pile of dirty clothes. "We should burn those."
"We can wash them." Though the fact that he was reacting so strongly told her more about her own fear-scent than anything. She opened the door again, leaving it cracked several inches.
"We should tell Ryouma. He'll help us get Botan."
Tsume eyed her familiar. "We don't need his help."
"He's the alpha."
"He's your alpha, not mine." This alpha thing was turning out to be a bigger pain than she'd expected.
"Well. I'll tell him later."
"You do that." Then she stopped speaking, catching scent of someone else in the hall. Not everyone had to listen into her conversation and hear about her scuffle with Intel. Frustrated, she marched into the kitchen and threw open the cupboards, knowing she had nothing inside. She glared at them, anyway. |
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