༺ Itinerantur ༻

Chapter VI: Hoe Life or No Life

(This is now the edited version!)

Most of the Policemen were really fuckin ugly, and I mean sweaty fat uncle ugly--the type of uncle to waddle around in a stained white T-shirt while carrying a tiny can of beer.

And Claire and Jeanne were gonna use their ugliness to their advantage. See, the policemen in this universe were not very smart. I mean--riddle me this, flat earthers--why haven't they checked the security footage to see who really killed those children?

Anyways, back to the objective. Claire had talked to Jeanne about this, the two sisters discussing their plan thoroughly.

Step 1: Lure in the ball shaped policemen to their cells.

Step 2: Attempt to seduce them with whatever looks Jeanne and Claire had. I mean, sure they were idiots, but at least they looked good. In a way. If you like... really squint. And maybe tilt your head a little.

Step 3: Eat their trauma! Wait what? Who the fuck put that there!? Probably Jeanne, that trauma eating sonnaofabetch.

Anyways, the plan actually went how they wanted it to go: the spherical policeman falling for their charms and, oddly enough, dropping his keys to lead to their freedom. What an idiot. What kind of police department hired these lazy fat asses?!

Ahhh, I get it now. Their ball-like shape lets them just get on the ground and start rolling towards the criminal with accelerating speed! Or maybe that's not how it works and this universe is just really crappy.

Okay. Back on topic.

Claire and Jeanne grabbed his keys, hiding it behind the musty toilet, careful not to touch whatever fluids the last inmate left.

"Right, so we got fatty fat face's keys, what're we gonna do now? Just sneak out while no one is looking?" Claire asked Jeanne with a slight hint of distress in her voice. Despite not being bothered by the whole jail thing she was just as itchy to punch C-13 in the face as Jeanne was.

"Idiot. We can't just sneak out, C-13 has eyes on us. She's taken the form of a well trusted officer, and one wrong move, we'll be in deeper shit," Jeanne said in a very very annoyed tone. That wasn't good.

Jeanne is a lot like a certain person. She enjoys being isolated from the party people, she's a chocolate and butterfly connoisseur, and most importantly, a trauma eater. This bitch would go so far to snoop her ass wherever someone was yapping about some goofy ahh relationship breakup or something in their lives. She even went so far as to work in the therapy section of the ANF, enjoying every single drop of trauma her patients dumped on her. She had even recorded them and shoved the tapes in her personal archive. (wink wonk TMA fans hmu)

Now then, where were we? Ah, yes, ahem.

It had been a few hours since the two retrieved the key, and yet that pea-brained officer had no clue it had gone missing. C-13 was still on the watch, but on very rare occasions, she would stop watching.

Was that C-13? The Facility tested her, making sure they knew every power she held. Watching people from a very very far distance with a floating eye, however, was not on the list.

Perhaps it was a new enemy; one that was working under C-13; working as that bastard's right hand.

But who?

"I don't think that C-13 is watching us," Jeanne hazily whispered to Claire who nodded ever so slightly. It was pretty obvious since both had to work under Fox-V to test and question C-13 when she was still in containment.

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The anomaly was new, yet it did not act out or hid away. She didn't even flinch. Not even when the guards tased her for their own fun. She just sat there, pink hair covering her pale white skin. She looked sick, of course she was.