Ultimate Amiss XV

Wakey, wakey~ little brain.

Warning for: suggestive material, violent imagery, and a thorough helping of irony.

"'Cause the girl, she's hiding horns."

Dec. 25th X0X1

Straw House,

You fucking little pig, I can't believe the audacity of you sending me your stupid letters about what you've been up to since mom and dad left you in a foreign country after getting that free trip from their job. Which, by the way, they cheated if you didn't already figure it out yourself. It was one of those "best employee" things. Could you imagine them getting a Best anything? Of course not, you're too stupid. And you thought I would be too stupid to find you, didn't you?

Well, you're reading this letter aren't you? So I'm not as dumb as you thought. And don't think for a second that I was surprised when I found out just where you disappeared to. You fit right in with that band of liars, murderers, and thieves. I'm sure you'll grow up in a jail cell just like the rest of them.

So, "how have I been?" you keep asking?

Perfect. Fucking perfect. Why don't you tell me how clean it is in prison, how you get fed every day? Now that I think about it, you probably have become a pig. Just thinking about how fat you must be makes me sick.

Little piggy went to the market with a basket. Little piggy dressed herself up into the much more favorable red cape. Little piggy went door to door asking for sweets. Little piggy stabbed the kind old woman with her claws through the basket that held bottles of poison labeled as medicine. Little piggy handed out these bottles for each piece of candy she received.

Fenrir Ate The Pig.

Feb. 14th / 49107Nō Day

Steel Pen,

You do think you're better than me. Running away like you did. You think you're the only one of us that could get away from them, didn't you? They may have been the ones to leave you overseas, but you're the one that didn't try to find your way back. You are such a fucking coward. Not able to face your own parents for the crimes they committed; worse, you're actually committing them yourself. Well, two can play at that game.

Actually, since you asked; no, I haven't seen those worthless pieces of trash that you still call "mummy" and "daddy." I don't need them, and if you actually gave a damn you wouldn't be across a fucking ocean. And I don't need you, either. So don't send me anything in the mail to "help" ever again. I don't need your blood money, got it? You may be sleeping in the dirt, but I'm not. So don't bother sparing me a second of your time. If you haven't already take your worthless money back; you should have already found it enclosed inside the envelope with this letter, but I know how stupid you really are. You probably tore the thing open instead of using a letter opener. If I were to guess you would use the opener to open someone's guts. I'm right, aren't I? Say it.

Why don't you tell me how your first time was? And then maybe I'll share mine.

Z0C!-/3^O

Nov. 25th 54-/|_134

Nyan,

Have you sold yourself yet, sister? For a piece of bacon, perhaps? Yes? No? Right up your alley? Between your canyon? What if I slip some cash into your waistband? Are you going to go and dance on a strangers lap? The slacks damp beneath your thighs, a piece of driftwood digging into your backside? Oh, but wait, there's more. Everywhere, they're digging into your skin. Especially where it's soft and plump. Lips, ass, a little side boob. Lean back a bit, tilt your hips; "that's perfect." So, have a penny, sis. You earned it with that nasty body of yours.

Don't worry, you can get more. You can be swimming in a sea of pennies if you'll take them and a couple more of their friends. They'll write up on the blackboard who's in first place, who is in last. It'll be fun. You can be the playing field while they ask who you liked best; just for shits and giggles of course. They don't actually care. There's plenty more like you, that will beg for a piece of bread. Some vodka to forget how far you've fallen.

Are you feeling violated yet? That is what they want, every single one.

I'm so sick of these perverts, asking for a panty shot, "lower that small triangle you call a bikini top because it's hiding your nipple." Disgusting. Just the place for you, really. As if I would ever stoop to that level, but the bastards keep asking even when you throw them out of the building.

It's really tiring, having to listen to the same requests day in and day out. Showing off your body like that isn't what modeling is about. It's about the product, and my body isn't in the catalog. Men are so stupid, but the law doesn't allow you to dig your heel into their throat. Unless it's fake of course, for a photo shoot; then they would just love it. Fucking pigs. How much do you think they would enjoy it if I took a baseball bat and hit them right on the tip? Crushed their so called "balls," slit their throat with the razor in my heel and just watch as they bleed out? Would they apologize then? Or just beg for their life?

You can bet your sorry ass they would do the latter. Right, like that's going to help you after what you said, what you did. Ha!

(=^..^=)

Dec. 24th

Muba,

Fenrir currently holds 194 written contracts, 39 of which are active, 64 are "pending substantial payment," 15 being paid off in services rendered, and 76 have been recorded as finalized, pending shreddage. The shredded and verbal contracts count upwards of 600, we'll go with a total of 666 because it's my favorite number.

My guess would be that in the time you've been with them so far you've contributed a whopping 0.00001% So not even one complete contract. I could tell you how many contracts I've filled for my agency, but I'm sure that would just make you feel even worse than you already do, and I would never do that.

I'm too busy getting the contracts I need when this place won't even pay for my supplies. Did you know I have to give back the outfits I wear for their shoots? Apparently you need more than just a hundred dozen of old men as your fan base for them to do that. This sucks. They won't let me pick out the outfits either, the ones that would get me onto the covers of top magazines because they think it wouldn't work, because it's not "in." These people are so stupid. The only thing they've done correctly is hosting an auction which showed me as a valuable asset because of him throwing so much money at the one photo that was barely suggestive, by which I mean I wasn't in a swimsuit. I was actually dressed up in an outfit I had chosen, but it wasn't for an actual shoot; just a testing shot. It's the only time I was able to pick out something myself.

I haven't been able to find where he put it in that house - mansion - yet. I thought he would put it in his room with the way he... stares? looks at me? It's different than the others; those older men. Technically he is older than me by one year. His face turns red whenever I catch him.

I'm going to use that money from the auction to get my own place, even if it's tiny and filthy it'll be mine. And then maybe when I visit that picture might turn up. I'm not going to tell him where it is, he might... never mind.

/

Mar. 3rd ~O~

Nosey,

Do I go around asking questions about your life? No. You want to know why? No. Well, here's the answer for you anyway: because you're a piece of shit. And when I mentioned my place being 'filthy' is was figurative. I would never lower my living conditions to your standards. You wouldn't believe how the surfaces shine in that god damn mansion. That maid is thorough as fuck, not to mention she kept trying to raise me of all things. Mr. and Mrs. Hinata must have told her what had happened to my parents when I was living with them.

That boy you referred to is Hajime, their son, obviously. And no, as I stated before he isn't like those older men. Of course, he hasn't tried to grab my ass or boobs yet (not to say he his gaze hasn't lingered there). He's more like a puppy than a dog, following me around the way he does. Harmless, really. He wouldn't do anything to "hurt" me, so stop your worrying. Actually, he's not even much of a puppy; his "tail" might wag when I'm around, but he doesn't jump on me or anything. The boy lacks the confidence to do anything other than look.

Besides, I don't have to offer anything up but my time to make him do what I want; if I want or need his assistance he'll come running with a snap of my fingers. I've already had him come with me during my shopping trips, to hold my bags while I'm at the store. Can you imagine that? A guy willingly holding your bags? Listening to you prattle on about fashion? And then not even allowing him to walk back to your apartment with you? Even when he insists that it's just to make sure you're safe? (okay, he didn't say it directly; i told you he doesn't have the confidence. but then he would insist if he knew where i actually lived now) It's practically unheard of. Well, you probably wouldn't know about any of that. Anyone you ever met would have just stared at you lecherously.

For a mercenary you suck at your job. In fact, I'm pretty sure you're making it up. You're not actually a member of Fenrir are you? Nah, I think you're just their glorified whore.

)~(

From what Izuru had seen of the letters so far they were hardly eye opening; he had figured out for himself that Junko wore a mask in public, this was just proof of that. Her true character was revealed in these letters to Mukuro, understandably because the two were sisters. Even if the two of them looked nothing alike.

He would think the two of them came from a separate mother or father; that they were simply half sisters if not for the document he had found before that showed them as twins. The only logical conclusion that left him with was that their parents - or somewhere down the line of either genetics - had been vastly different in the genetic pools themselves. Mukuro had freckles, Junko didn't. Mukuro's eyes were blue, Junko's were... whatever they were beneath those contacts. Mukuro's hair was black, while Junko had dyed her hair into something resembling 'strawberry bubblegum blonde.' That was the only way to accurately describe that exact shade of color, and anyone could tell by looking at it that it couldn't be natural. Nature just wasn't capable of making something like that.

Whoever had created such an eye-popping color deserved to be punished. With Junko's mask in place it just served to make people gravitate to her as if she were the center of the universe. A bright sun about reach the end of its life and explode, creating a black hole to draw anybody in that had gotten too close to her beaming smile - wolfish smirk.

It bothered him to some degree, not the kind that sent chills down your spine or raised the hair on the back of one's neck; the sort of thing his mind told him would be normal in a situation like this. But it clearly wasn't normal - Junko wasn't normal - if he wasn't reacting in the way expected of people coming across this sort of information. Then again, this was in reference to normal people, not those who held vast amounts of talent, of true skill. And he still hadn't found anything inside the stack of letters that hinted to her having come across him before. Beyond putting Mukuro down Junko widely talked about herself, and her own problems she was coming across while trying to accomplish her apparent 'rise to stardom.' He didn't believe for a second that that was her actual goal, there was something else she was interested in, but... he hadn't managed to pinpoint it yet.

There were no leads. Not unless he counted this Hajime Hinata, who had clearly been used by Junko in the past. The poor guy was just another victim as far as he could see, but he still had more letters to go through. Perhaps those would give him something to work with.

It would be much easier to through these if the dates included the year, he could only fit a few together going off what the letters had in them before the timeline he was creating fell apart. Not to mention the large time gaps in between the letters, but as far as he could tell Mukuro hadn't kept them in order, but rather thrown together. It looked like they might have used to be organized but then she started pulling out bits and pieces of the timeline and when she put the letters back everything became scattered. In short: it was a pain in the ass to only have the month and day on each letter, and those weird scribbles from Junko of course. Some of which he had managed to find out the meaning behind, but there were a few that just seemed random and held no purpose. Maybe it had for Junko, but he wasn't getting anything from it.

Other than her capacity to kill the people closest to her and not shed a single tear. She was probably incapable of creating them except to manipulate people; in other words: crocodile tears.

Which he hadn't found the least bit surprising.

He would need to get back to reading these once his classes were over for the day, and after he had gotten those papers from Mukuro concerning his EEG as well.