Your name is SPADES SLICK and you are the leader of the MIDNIGHT CREW. You're currently being held captive in a SHITTY CIRCUS. The only thing keeping you from going on an ANGER FUELED RAMPAGE is the fact that you're without your DECK OF CARDS meaning you are COMPLETELY WEAPONLESS. This disturbs you greatly, but not as much as the lack of anything TERRIER related about your person.
You are located in TRAILER M-1 with a bunch of other ASSHOLES that you suppose you'll have to greet.
CR sighed. He’s tired at the moment, and this wasn’t something he wanted to tolerate at the moment.
“I do admit it’s not the most impressive name, though I do prefer to be known as that, rather than something else.”
Slick just shrugs now. He’d heard worse names on Derse. He’s just testy at the moment. The moment being always. “What the fuck ever. Can’t help you if you’ve got bad fucking tastes. I can’t tell you what’s stoppin’ you from naming yourself, though.”
Rather impolite, is he not? Or maybe it’s his miniscule yet growing aggravation for being commented for his pseudonym. Every. Single. Time. He sighed, “Perhaps; it’s better than have none at all.”
"I’d rather have nothin’ than something that’s basically shouting, "Hey, make fun of my ass."" The thought process of people here were so damn strange. "I mean, fuck, a codey soundin’ name? Do you need to plug in sometime?" He let out a barkish laugh. He was too funny sometimes.
(no he’s not)
[ Even if Sakuya really hates it when people aren’t respectful to her — or really anyone in general — she’s actually a rather static person. Dishing out a bunch of silly insults to her isn’t going to phase her all that much. It’d be better not to bother with her, considering how she really doesn’t like nonsense either. ]
Even if you told me I wasn’t useless, you barely said it in a meaningful way. I wouldn’t like to receive a compliment and say it is sincere if I can obviously tell it barely isn’t.
"Wow, you’ve got a stick up your fuckin’ ass." He made an obscene gesture pointing upwards. Possibly trying to emulate a stick being shoved up someone’s rectum. Who knows. "Can’t be comfortable." He smirked and shoved his hands back into his pockets. "Gotta learn to accept things as they come, or else you’ll be fishin’ for shit that ain’t gonna happen."
"Too bad. So fuckin’ sad."
Then that’s all that matters! Keep eating lemons and having fun! [Luffy’s grin grew and he even giggled] Off a rocker? I’m not on a rock at all! You should get your glasses looked at, strange rocks are closer than they appear, shishishishishi!
Well, that was offensive. “Fuck you.” Poor one-eyed mobster. “I didn’t even mean that shit literally. Your…” He trailed off, thinking of something witty to say back. “Your…” Ugh, damn, why was this so hard!? “Your brain should be checked, dumbass!”
[ Useless after all? Oh, dear. Sakuya has never considered herself to be useless. She knew she was a big help around the mansion for everyone. Despite how sour the words obviously were, she didn’t take any bold offense to them. People would be people. Besides, this was someone from… the outside world, right?
Of course. She had heard they were especially ignorant. Even so, Sakuya couldn’t care less if you were impressed or not. She’s not concerned with impressing people all that much. Maybe except for the mistress and several other people. She mainly just accepts her job as a servant. ]
Is there a reason you have for considering me useless? You barely know me.
"Exactly, I barely knew you. Any person in their right’ll assume fancy shmancy bitches walkin’ around sayin’ hello or whatever are pretty useless." Why was he even bothering to explain himself? This was common knowledge! "Why the fuck does it even matter, I said you weren’t useless” Slick sneered. “You should learn some goddamn respect and start listening to people. Jesus."
He really hated teaching, and he really hated teaching respect among all else. This conversation ad basically lapsed into him explaining things he found to be total bullshit which are also things people should already know. It’s official, he hated conversations.
[Head tilt and a grin] Wellllllll you do kinda look like you should poop more often! It’ll make you less grumpy, I promise! And if you find stuff you like to do, that’ll make you even happier!
"I do what I fuckin’ like to do.” There’s nothing he’d enjoy more. “And shits? Kid, you’re off your fuckin’ rocker.” It was honestly something he’d never heard before. Not at all. Plus, him being grumpy might as well be him in his best mood.
Suddenly, WV felt a sharp prodding that made him feel rather uncomfortable. A knife, albeit a really dull one, was poking at him repeatedly. He opened his mouth, with full intent on teaching this brute manners, when he heard a voice that felt horrifyingly familiar. On instinct, his eyes flickered up towards the source of the voice.
He didn’t say anything as he stared at the other, eyes taking in his features. There was the eye patch and the scar, and of course that metal limb of his, but it was clearly who that face belonged to. WV would never able to forget that face, that fact alone was clear. The exile fell into a fit of panic as he recognized those features, falling backwards upon the ground.
WV didn’t say nor do anything as he stared, the shock was getting to him more than anything else at the moment. He just sat there with one finger pointed towards Slick. When he finally found the words to speak, the exile finally uttered a quiet, “y-y-you’re here too?”
Well, shit. That was quite the overreaction. Slick knew he’d caused a pretty big uproar on Derse what with the whole Operation Regisurp thing being his idea and all. But, hey, he’d done a good thing for the planet and didn’t think fear was the type of thing to come from it. If that wasn’t the cause of it, Slick wasn’t sure what. An exile wouldn’t know of the Midnight Crew, or recognize him. That reminded him that he was the Archagent on Derse, but he didn’t actually do his job well, much less scare anyone by doing it. He couldn’t think of a damn thing that would cause this little carapace to get his panties in a bunch.
"It’s pretty fuckin’ obvious that I’m here too, dumbass." He twirled the butter knife. Not as a menacing thing, but as a keep the hand occupied kind of thing. His free hand pushed WV’s down. He didn’t appreciate being pointed at. "C’mon now, give me your goddamn title."
Hmmm….you really think so? Nawwwwwww….that’d get in the way of my adventuring and stuff! I couldn’t do that. It’d be fun for awhile but then I’d get bored so [Luffy shrugged] Besides, I wouldn’t be able to have lunch breaks and second dinner and third dessert breaks whenever I want, right?
Anyway, what about you? Do you wanna do something like that? Fighting the printing presses would be hard though….I guess it’d make you strong!
This kid was a talker, that’s for sure. Slick really just let him, it was all the more easier to do when he was without an actual knife. He wasn’t listening anyways, until he was called out. To which he glared. “Do I look like the type of guy who doesn’t have everything he fucking wants?”
I can’t! I’m gonna be the pirate king and responsibilities for a magazine would get in the way of that! I’m gonna be the meat king too so that’s sort of the same thing, it’s like a compromz or whatever! It’ll be awesooooooooome~
But you should make your dream come true, too!
"Well, fuck, if you manage to become the king of meat you can, I don’t know, start a fucking magazine based off of that shit." Kings were famous, as much as Slick despised the idea, and it’s profitable to start a magazine based around someone/thing famous.
WV wasn’t really paying attention to where he was going. He just found himself rather exhausted about life here as its population began to dwindle down. He wondered if he’d wake up one day to find himself completely alone, and honestly, that scared him. At least he didn’t have to worry about Noir here, he assured himself. Though, he knew that in the end he had to face the other. Still, he knew he wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t ready for Noir, who thankfully was back home.
Of course he’s completely wrong (sort of), but he was too busy drowning in his thoughts to notice the other, more fearsome carapace. The little exile continued walking, almost bumping into Slick, with his hands wrapped around his small frame, and his head lowered towards the ground. Little WV let out a sigh and sat down a short ways away from the other, completely unaware of his existence. The poor exile was just too wrapped up in his thoughts.
Spades Slick’s tossing stopped when the most curious thing almost ran into him. He squinted and rubbed his eye a few times and just watched the figure wander past him. It had been a really fucking long time since he’d seen a dersite in exile garb. Midnight City had taken in many exiles, especially after Derse’s and Prospit’s unfortunate demise, and they had clothing there. No ugly rags. So, why was this carapace in them?
Slick realized sitting there like a dumbass and wondering was completely ineffective. He scurried up to the exile and prodded him with Dull Diplomacy, which, of course, didn’t cause any harm and definitely wouldn’t be able to penetrate a carapace in the first place. He wanted to get the other’s attention, though, and this was totally the best way possible. “Who the fuck are you?”