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We don't have enough food for more than one meal out here. Anyone with experience tracking or hunting game animals, contact me. Some of us need to keep from starving.

[Locked to Inmates]
[She just shakes her head, not damning but definitely not approving either.] Seriously, you guys? I understand your enthusiasm but this is a superpowered circle-jerk of the highest degree.

[Locked to Warden Friends]
[That Look is in Beatrix's eyes again, the kill-or-be-killed cruelty she's fixed on enemies so many times before. She's obviously tense, determined and on her guard even though she's still in the safety of the caves with her sword strapped to her back.]

I'm patrolling the caves and a perimeter around them to help defend against anyone with ill intent and I'd like the safety in numbers from one of you coming with me. You who can't, if you see anything dangerous or meet someone you shouldn't, I'll help. Just contact me and I'll be there.
deadliestviper: (stupid cunts on their cell phones)
[Locked to friends]
[As the feed flashes on Beatrix looks at the camera head-on, head slightly tilted and her lips in a thin line. She's sequestered in her cabin and looks tired but is steely-eyed as ever, emotion shoved far out of the way. There are more important things to get to.] How bad was it for you? Any damage done? [No mention of her public and sadistic threat. She doesn't see why it would be an issue.]

[Locked to Kon and Steph]
Tell me what happened to you. Please say you're all right.

[Locked to Arya]
Check in. Were you harmed or sent to Zero during the takeover?

[Locked to Ben]
Do I assume correctly in guessing we need to talk?

[Locked to Chris]
... Jesus fuck. [Enough said.]

[Locked to Riddick and Slade]
[Beatrix had threatened the partial truth out of Narvin easily enough, although he'd said nothing to incriminate either of them. Still, she has a sneaking suspicion they were playing her. There's still respect for both of them there, but she is Not Amused. Flatly, face and eyes blank:] Go ahead. Whatever you're going to say, say it.

[Locked to Narvin]
You're a son of a bitch, you know that? [She glares at the camera, but her tone's more resigned and annoyed than malicious.] How's the eye?
deadliestviper: (you and i have unfinished business)
[Private to Friends (if you think you're on here you probably are)]
This should come as no surprise to anyone. I'm going to kill this fucker.

This is not the time to lecture me on morality. If you want to help me, do.
deadliestviper: (cross off #1)
Fine.

You've all thought about it, even if you haven't said it: if you could kill anyone, or order anyone killed, from your world or here, who would it be?

If you feel like answering a bonus question, why? Unless you're extraordinarily brave, I expect your answer privately. No judgment.
deadliestviper: (i was YOUR woman.)
Considering the amount of stress this season normally brings out in people, I'm kind of amazed nobody's stabbed anyone else over the last candy cane yet. Which sets this apart from my last couple of Christmases, honestly.

When I was growing up I liked this holiday. It's hard not to, when you're a kid, with all the music and presents and stories and after-school Christmas specials. That all went out the window when I was a teenager, there was too much other stuff going on in my life. The next time I celebrated I was about 24, and that wasn't you'd call a traditional holiday. My boyfriend got me an Israeli-issue Kalashnikov with a customized scope, I got him a severed head. Then we had pizza and watched It's a Wonderful Life.

But as much of a Grinch as I am, I do have a couple personal traditions and the biggest one is watching my favorite Christmas movie every year. Who hasn't seen Die Hard?

Dear Santa... )
deadliestviper: (beatrix kiddo? here.)
So. Angels, aliens, mutants, magicians, vampires, motherfucking superheroes and a few I've got to be missing. It's getting tough to ignore exactly who our fellows are.

It's got me a little curious. How many of us are warriors? In the handful of weeks I've been here I've seen everything from bruised knuckles to plate-mail, so I figure there's no shortage of fighters around which means no shortage of fighting styles. Following up on that, one more question: How many of us – or of you – might be willing to share your knowledge? A girl can never know too much self-defense.

[It's a sorry excuse for a supplication like that, and she amends it.]

Whatever your preferred weapon or style, please, I'd like to learn. Anyone who'd take on a student or a not-entirely-green sparring partner, I'll offer you a trade. You show me what you know, and I'll be your punching bag.

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Beatrix Kiddo

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