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Brat
A rather unfortunate creature (not that she agrees with that testament; being [b]quite[/b] happy with who and what she is), who was graced with neither good looks or conventional intelligence. (now several years into her future, for testing purposes)
0 · 288 views · located in 
The Infinite Void
a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Dan-Nal-Khali
So begins...
Brat's Story
- Seen 80 Times • Page 2 of 4 • 1, 2, 3, 4
“
"That man is attacking you." Her voice flattened out to a dull, unimpressed monotone.
”
Brat was not impressed. At all. And inserted herself neatly between Sophie and Kazen; because she knew his tipe, she knew it well and she didn't like it. "Bastard." The knife stuck. Brat glared.
Brat was still glaring down at the knife buried just under her left breast (because she had grown some, and was rather proud of them, even if they were tiny). Thick, whitish blood was tracking slowly from the wound, and she turned her eyes towards the gun, really not happy by this point. Her eye twtiched several times in quick succession and she grinned (but she wasn't happy) when Tommy and the woman ran away. She didn't care about sex; she cared that some bastard was being a bastard.
Brat folded her arms, because she did not taste like some dirty farm animal, and that had hurt. She looked down at the wound (hardly fatal, for someone of her... nature, but she still wasn't happy about it), expression lost to a series of ticks.
Brat did not like being ignored. Oh no, she didn't like being ignored at all. Once the tics had subsided, she looked around: no family present. Thus, she wailed.
Brat folded her arms, only to unfold them a second later, flex her hands three times, and re-fold them again as though nothing happened. She was still bleeding freely, though the blood was thicker and milkier than human blood should ever be. "Sorry, I don't kill retards. It's mean."
Brat growled, because really, what were all these people playing at?! Even at home (where small wars broke out all the time; such was the penalty of living with her family) the blatant stabbing of a young girl would have aroused more than a stranger telling her to stop 'bitching'. How dare he! "You- mm. Mm." She broke off at another tick; she was aggravated, so they were becoming more frequent. "Bastard!"
Brat raised an eyebrow, because that was just bloody stupid. "That's bloody stupid." Brat tended to say exactly what came to mind, as it came to mind. "Why the fuck did she have a baby in a bar?! It's a bar! What the hell sort of moron are you to let her have a baby in a bar?!"
Brat hissed at the man, her eye ticking this time (her eyes tended to be the focus of her ticks, though it really did vary). "Babies don't just come flying out, you ugly twit! You have warning! Hours of labour? Have you ever- mm- heard of hours of labour?! That's when you might take your whale of a wife home to spawn. Idiot!"
Brat stood up that little bit straighter (still bleeding, no longer paying attention) because someone needed a rant! "So, I should close my mouth. Why? Because I think you're a monumental idiot for letting your wife give birth in a bar. Why? Because dear GOD you let her embarrass herself in front of a whole load of strangers, show all sorts of things no woman ever wants to show! Not to mention that there are bastards in here that want to stab people? And you let your wife have a baby?! And then, then you say that someone's going to shut it for me? Well, it sure as hell won't be you, you pathetic coward. And, by the way, I heard that about paying someone to stab me and that just proves how pathetic you really are. You have no respect for women and I pity your wife and child." Clearly, Brat could be coherent when she wanted to be.
Brat raised a twitching eyebrow. "And then you don't even have the decency to respond. Not even a look. You bastard."
Brat realised that the world was mean and unfair, because no only was her mother in the bar, but her mother was in the bar with intent, and as much as Brat wanted to... she sighed; bad timing, as always. "Mama!" She whined, because she wanted to, and because that was expected, face still ticking.
Brat wilted appropriately, because that's what teenagers were supposed to do when they were being scolded, wasn't it? Honestly, she wasn't sure, but she'd seen said reaction on television, so it had to be right. "But-" She was cut off by another set of (very real) ticks.
Brat nodded enthusiastically. "Yes. But funny." She pointed towards the wound, and the blood that she was still spilling onto the floor. "Can you fix it? It hurts." I
Brat laughed to herself, because really, she was too big to be carried. "Mm, I'm okay to- oh! There's a rat!" She pointed, just to make sure her mother could see it. "This place would fail its health inspection."
Brat grinned, because this was going to be funny, and crouched down to look at the rat. She liked rats. She had a pet one. ...somewhere. With a twitching grin, she reached out to pick the creature up.
Brat beamed, holding the creature by the tip of its thick, hairless tail. She turned it this way and that, getting a good look at it, and ducked out of the way as her mother tried to steal her fun. "No, no, this one's my rat."
Brat kept the rat exactly where it was: in her hand, hanging by its tail, where it could only struggle and snap harmlessly. "Mm, yes, I know." She blinked as he mother was accosted, but she really was too busy to help. With a cool expression, she moved to break the rat's neck; it was clearly rabid and needed to die, and if not, then it had tried to bite her, and therefore also needed to die.
- Seen 80 Times • Page 2 of 4 • 1, 2, 3, 4