𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

❜ ─ 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑻𝑾𝑬𝑵𝑻𝒀 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑬

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❛ ━━━━━━━━･ ❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━━━ ❜

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒄𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒑𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒃𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒃𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒈𝒏

    WHEN (Y/N) SAW THAT THE MAN IN black was walking toward her rather swiftly, she fingered the needle that she had stashed in her pocket along with her small knife, not wanting to reveal the latter but knowing that the former wouldn't be the greatest weapon.

But she wasn't afraid.

When seeing this man and the way he was different from all of the guards, she knew instantly that he was the Front Man.

The one who seemed to know her.

And yet she didn't know him.

"Wah..." she started with an incredulous expression painting her face, walking forward to meet the Front Man in the middle. "Who knew I'd be able to meet you like this? I think this is a great first introduction point, don't you?"

"Player 457..." he stated, the way he said her number making a small buzz shoot down her spine.

"Yes, Front Man?"

"...escort her back to the main room," he said after a moment as he turned to Triangles 001 and 002 who immediately bowed their heads in understanding.

"Is that it?" (Y/n) let out a disappointed breath. "I was expecting a bit more from you."

The Front Man didn't say anything to her provocations, but he did step forward until most of the space between them was gone, his finger barely brushing against the under side of her chin in  a silent warning. And then, just as more circle-masked guards started to drive in on forklift machines that each held black coffins with pink ribbons that they normally used to collect bodies in, he was gone, lost in a sea of the pink guards.

(Y/n) sighed.

Well... not quite what I expected.

"Lets go, player 457," Triangle 002 nudged her with his gun, Triangle 001 on her other side in assistance.

"Be a little gentler, Triangle 002," she faked a pout as she looked up at him, rubbing her arm as if it were seriously hurt. "I may like it rough, but the way you're handling me is much more than I can take at the moment..."