A life on easy street had been a dream of hers for years and finally she basically had it. Taking over the life of a Jet black Cane corso named Karma. It had gained her acess to this multi million dollar mansion in upstate newyork. The family was basically gone all the time and the maids only came for ceritna hours which gave her plenty of time to relax. Having the place to herself to eat and shower. Watch tv she wanted to watch and even sleep in one of the many guest rooms. It was the life of a freeloader but she had no marketable skills. As a younger child she spent her life running with a pack of wolves.
It was the only way she was able to survive after her parents dumped her out of their home. The only reason she knew how to read and write was from teaching herself over the years. This didnt make her un intelligent but rather gave her street smarts and common sense. Now she lounged around in a big one thousand dollar dog bed that was pretty comfortable when her 'owners' were home. The real dog Karma had been hit by a car three months ago so it gave her the oppertune time to take over. Oh but those were the good old days that seemed like a distant memory.
One day when she was home alone some men broke into the house. Large thugish robbers coming to make a quick buck on stolen goods. Stupidly she attempted to defend the house and got herself nabbed in the process. She managed to do a bit of damage with strong canine jaws but still she found herself thrown in a cage of some eighty nine rapist van. Other dogs barks and growled from cages beside her as she turned and snarled at the men. Lunging at the door and they jabbed something long and metal in the cage she yelped feeling the elctric current hit her skin.
It was enough to make her fall and convolse as they just laughed before the van doors slammed shut. Deciding it best to stay in dog form for now she just laid down and waited. When the van stopped she found herself in the city and her cage opened out to have a tight catch pole looped around her neck. Her teeth bared and she tired to snap at the men but it was useless as the roughly drug her inside. The warehouse was huge and every 20 foot there was a muscled aggressive dog snapping at her limbs and she was led down the narrow path. Them men jerked her to a stop and she felt a sharp stab in her back leg.
Within minutes everything went limp and her body gave out to a sedative. The men managed to padlock a chain around her neck rather tight and she finally fell asleep. Over time she was condition as a fighting dog and thrown into many prize fights. Within a month was used to be a flawless black pelt became marred with old bite marks. Her accelerated healing helped and fighting her way up to the top spot gained her a decent diet of meat and vet care for injuries. Time seemed to blur together after a while and she could hear talk about a new opponent she was going to be forced to face.
Another dog from detroit and before she knew it she was being brought into the ring. Her teeth were barred and she lunged and snarled towards the other dog who was massive and twice her size. This was the fight for survival and when the leashes came of the two animals clashed. She bit and tugged at bit of skin but this dog was just to strong. One final slam into the wall and she was left in the dirt bleeding. Small whimpers escaped as she laid there and a loud yel and she was jerked up off the ground. Droped in the back of a truck she went in and out of sleep as it drove.
Her body was weak and she needed to let it hoefuly heal enough to find a vet or doctor. The trip had seemed to take ages but she yeled more when she felt her pained body dropped on the ground by a dumster in a alley. Her fur was stained in blood and dirt and the black leather collar bearing her name Karma was torn. Weakly she tried to make it to her feet near the truck one of the men kick her until she fell back down by the wall. Soon the truck was gone and the sounds of the city noise filled her ears. In her weakened state she manged to let and a pleading whimer when someone would near the alley but most people looked over only to see the injured animal and keep walking.
Post by Buster Fleetfoot on Apr 8, 2018 1:51:11 GMT
Buster stood there in his bedroom at the Fool's clubhouse. He had a pair of headphones around his neck along with a pair of goggles. Reaching down he pulled out a pair of earbuds from his pocket. Settling a bud into each ear he was calm. The soft breeze from the air conditioning pushed his leather jacket around slightly as he adjusted the buds in his ears. Buster was in Detroit. He had just finished getting dressed. A pair of jeans, his canvas shoes and of course his jacket. He was about to head out to get some breakfast. He was headed out to New York. Buster pressed play on his IPOD. As the Japanese dojo intro played Buster was adjusting his goggles over his eyes.
Buster seriously doubted if anyone was even up this early. It was only 10am. Most of the Fools would be nursing hangovers from the party the night before. Buster took a deep breath and sighed and then zipped off. He was out of the room and across the state line in a millisecond. Buster was fast. Very fast. Buster's mutation allowed him to run at supersonic speeds. He zipped and weaved in between cars in traffic. He ran across highways and interstates. He ran through the Lincoln tunnel. Buster ran so fast he was able to run along the side of the walls in the tunnel and on it's ceiling. He circled the roof of the tunnel and came out the other side as a gust of wind to anyone who cared to notice. Buster was barely visible to the human eye. He wore a white shirt under a black leather jacket. His shoes were red and white. If you caught a glimpse of him he would appear to be a black white and red streak. A trick of the mind. A blip on your thoughts before you shrugged him off as your imagination.
Buster continued to weave in and out of traffic as he ran. As he ran paper trash that littered the streets of New York flew up in a gust. They floated briefly down the street before gently floating back to the ground. Bust moved quick. All the while his music blasted in his eardrums. Everything around him seemed to slow down. He could see people seeming to move in slow motion on the sidewalk. Still his music blasted in his ears, to him at normal speed. Of course; buster pressed the fast forward button on the ipod. His brain just processed things faster. Buster came to a screeching holt at a bus stop as he noticed something. The second he stopped flitting about the world around him resumed. As if the person holding time by the throat and keeping it slow motion released his grip. People walked and shouted at each other. Somewhere in the distance a jackhammer was turning a section of the street into rubble. Cars honked at each other and there were all the usual New York sounds.
Buster smirked as he saw a man beginning to trip over the sidewalk. He was going to fall into traffic right in front of the 315 City Bus. Buster watched the man with a steaming cup of coffee begin to swear. "Motherf--" Buster moved again. Using his ability to slow down the world around him and take control of it. That man with his grip on the throat of the time of the world was him and he liked the control. Buster was a cocky little shithead. Buster dashed in front of the man. He watched as the liquid from his cup seemed to freeze in mid air. The man had a lit cigarette in his mouth and a briefecase in the hand opposite the cup of coffee. Buster shook his head. Taking the cup from his hand Buster moved at a normal pace while everything around him tapered to a crawl. He took the cup and removed the lid. Buster scooped up the droplets of coffee suspended in the air. All of the coffee was now back in the cup. He took a sip for himself before placing the cup back in the guy's hand. Buster took the cigarette from the guy's mouth and put it in his own mouth. "Saving your life asshole." Buster mumbled. As he did the cigarette bounced up and down on his lower lip.
Buster grabbed the guy by the shoulders and spun him around so that he was falling now towards the sidewalk. All around him people moved a microinch forward in this time. Their footfalls coming a hair closer to the sidewalk. Their mouths, mid conversation moving the tiniest bit. They weren't frozen in time, just moving much slower than Buster. Buster reached in the guy's back pocket and took out his wallet. "How much is your life worth pal?" Buster asked to himself. The guy couldn't hear him. Not really. Buster's voice would have seemed like the flapping wings of a humming bird at that speed. "$40?!?!?!" All this guy had was a lousy forty bucks? Buster sighed and stuffed the money in his jacket pocket before slipping the empty wallet back in the guy's pocket. Buster took the cigarette and took a puff or two and stuck that back in his mouth. He should have let the guy get hit by the bus.
Buster dashed off again down the street until he got to his favorite bagel shop. He slowed down to a human speed here. Honestly being slow annoyed the hell out of him. But he enjoyed the conversation with the cashier. She was cute. It was partially the reason he came all the way to New York for bagels. Buster pulled out a comb and quickly fixed his hair. It took no time at all. Buster stopped outside the front door of the shop and noticed that his shoes were smoking. He stomped out the threat on the sidewalk. Pulling down his goggles and putting away his headphones he headed inside. "Good morning! Welcome to Bagel Barn!" Buster rolled his eyes at the fat sweat guy who greeted him. Instead he headed straight to Leslie's line. "Morning Leslie." Buster said taking a confident stride over to the counter. He leaned way to far into her personal space. He flashed her a cocky smile and presumed to be all too familiar with her. She was the one girl who didn't buy his charms. "When you going to let me take you to dinner huh?" Buster asked. She smiled politely while quietly thinking what a arrogant ass he was. "No time soon." She said cheerfuly and politly hoping he would get the message. "Did you want to order?"
Buster's smile faded a bit, but didn't go away. She was trying to push this conversation along so she could get back to her day. "Yeah give me 3 dozen bagels." He said. She nodded and went to retrieve them. Buster allowed his eyes to linger on her backside just a little bit as she turned around and his smile widened. To be honest it wasn't the bagels at all that brought him all the way to New York every morning. Just then the tv in the corner came on with a breaking news story. "This just in. The body of another mutant has been found. Just like the others it was displayed in a public place with the word FREAK carved into it's chest. The governor is expected to speak out about the mutant hate crimes later this evening." Buster's attention was glued to the tv now. He was growing visibly irritated. No one knew he was a mutant. He didn't flaunt it. Not really. Not like anyone could even see him half the time. Half the time he was just a blur. Still, it pissed him off that he even felt the slightest bit worried about it. "Here you are." Leslie said with a smile. Buster smiled back and handed Mr. Coffee's $40 over as payment. "See you tomorrow kid." Buster said.
With that he stepped outside. He was in no mood for flirty cuteness anymore. He was annoyed. If he could get his hands on just one of those assholes he would beat the living shit out of them. Not because he had some deep seated love for his fellow mutant, but it was the principal of it. Buster walked quietly down the street. His music long forgotten. He was cramming a bagel into his mouth and eating his way through his frustration when he heard a soft whimper. He stopped in his tracks. Buster looked around and saw nothing at first. Then he realized it was coming from the alley. Buster headed down the alley slowly. He saw a dark shape on the ground next to a dumpster. Buster set the bagels down on the trashcan and crouched over the pitiful beast.
Reaching down his fingers grazed the bloodstained torn collar. "Karma. What kind of fucking asshole names a dog Karma and leaves it half dead by a dumpster?" Probably that fucking asshole Mr. Coffee. That would be some karma right there. Buster gently pet her head. He assumed it was a her. He didn't see no balls. "Shh it's ok girl." Reaching down he gently scooped her up into his arms. "I know it fucking sucks. This part isn't going to feel very nice either, but uh... try not to throw up okay?" Without any more warning that that Buster was running again. Running back to Detroit. He forgot all about his bagels. Fuck those bagels. Buster ran to a vet. Dogs like wind right? They always try to stick there head out the window when you drive. She just got a shit ton of wind.
Buster used his foot to kick open the door gently and rushed inside. The dog in his arms was groaning and moaning and probably wondering what the fuck was happening. He couldn't really blame here. In the rush over here the wind had ripped off the last of her torn collar. Buster ran inside. His hair was sticking straight up like he had crazy bed head. He honestly looked like he tried sticking his fingers in an electrical socket. "Hey doc you gotta help my dog here." Buster sounded desperate. His voice cracked slightly and he was honestly worried. Buster was no great animal rescuer, but he didn't want to see the thing die. He had about $300 in his pocket. He could spend that at least to get this thing treated. If not there was a myriad of stolen credit cards in his wallet. "Oh my bring her around the counter!" The vet lady insisted. Buster did as instructed and hurried her to the back. "What is here name?" She asked. Buster wasn't going to call her Karma. FUck that name. Didn't do her much good anyway. "Uh... Biscuit." He came up with a name on the spot. "Okay biscuit let's get you fixed up." The woman said in a soothing tone.
She turned to Buster and smiled. "You can wait outside sir." She was cute too. Buster hardly noticed it. His eyes were on the dog who seemed to be breathing shallow and rocky. He had blood on his hands. Blood on his shirt and he was worried sick and he didn't know why. He supposed he kind of linked this dogs fate to his own. He was a mutant. Someone might fight him breathing shallow lying beside a dumpster one day if they found out about his mutation. Buster looked at the vet. "I'd rather stay if that's okay." He said softly. His cocky smirk was gone. His ladie's man charm had no place here. He was just a guy with a dog and worry tugging at his heart strings. Yes, Buster had a heart and he had a conscience he just didn't listen to them often. Buster's hand scratched behind Biscuit's ear lightly. The vet nodded and agreed to let him stay as she began to search through some cabinets. Man, some fucking morning huh?
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Was this how her unfortunate life came to a end? Being some other dogs chew toy and tossed by a dumpster and forgotten. Her body wasn't healing as fast as she hoped which meant she was in serious trouble here. Stuck as a dog this severely injured its not like she could just call for help. Her pathetic whimpers seemed all but useless at first until finally someone stopped. Some skinny twig of a guy with a bagel hanging out of his lips. She sniffed a bit and licked her lips smelling the food he sat on the dumpster beside them. Days ago is when she had eaten but she was just to weak to try and beg for food. His fingers touched her face and she let out more pathetic whimpering noises.
This may be her only shot at getting some sort of medical care. His fingers moved over the torn leather collar and she listened to him rant about karma. When arms slid under her and lifted she yelped loudly after pain shot through her torn body. Her head hugged tightly to his chest as he mention not throwing up on him. 'What the fuck is he going on about?' Sophia mused to herself but the mystery didn't remain long as the guy darted off. Everything turned into a disorienting blur of scenery and she quickly closed her eyes to avoid the sick feeling she got.
Wasn't hard to figure out that this guy was a mutant like her which made her a little less suspicious of him. Finally the world stopped rushing and she opened her eyes to see the inside of a vets office. The woman asked for her name and the leather bound twig called her biscuit. 'Who the fuck names their dog biscuit?' Her mind was screaming it but the only thing coming from her mouth was whines. Within moments she was in the back on a table and she was starting to loose what consciousness she had. Was it to late for her to be saved?
Breathing slow and shallow she tried to remain with the two in the room. The feeling of fingers scratching behind her ear was comforting and welcoming. Though she felt sharp pains when the vets went to work sticking needles and with a sedative she was out like a light. Sophia had no idea how much time had passed but the vets had managed to clean all her small wounds and stitch up and bandage the larger ones. When her eyes did start to open she was still feeling a bit groggy and her head raised trying to find the guy that saved her.
For a brief moment she believed he had ditched out. Maybe she was alone again after all this but after a few moments he re appeared and her tail weakly wagged a bit. Sure it was every mutant for themselves but right now she needed care before she could just ditch out and find her new home elsewhere. Nothing against this guy really except her blatant distrust of everyone around her.
Post by Buster Fleetfoot on Apr 8, 2018 13:59:39 GMT
Buster had stepped out for a bit. When Biscuit went under Buster had to get out. He didn't mind blood but it wasn't something he wanted to stick around to see. Instead he stepped just outside the door and started making phone calls. He called Johnny at the club and told him he was back in town. Back in town, such and odd phrase. Buster used it more often than most. Johnny liked to know where the hell he was, because he could be literally anywhere at anytime. Buster checked his watch. It was 10:32. Buster told Johnny about the dog. He told him about how he brought her back from New York. And that he was thinking about keeping her.
Buster just had a room at the club. It was in the back of the clubhouse past the bar and past the stripper stage. Past the pool tables and jukebox and the framed photos of all the members mugshots that hung proudly on the walls. Buster was smoking a cigarette and smirking in his mugshot. Yes, even speedy little Buster had been caught and arrested at least once. Though honestly he allowed himself to be caught. He did 3 months in county only so he could get inside and give a message to Carson Falco the club leader who was, at the time awaiting trial. The cops were tremendous hard-ons. They allowed no visitors and no phone calls until the trial. The trial came and went and Carson's lawyer got him off. It was god damned beautiful.
Buster's room was in the far back corner of the hall. Inside his room was like stepping into a crack house. The florescent lighting was pale green and the walls had scribbles all over them. There were holes in the wall from where he had punched it. Clothes were strewn about the floor and hanging haphazardly from the dressers. There was a soft comfy bed and little else to speak up besides the adjoining bathroom with equally shitty lighting. Buster crashed here when he was 'in town.' He kept another little place out in Virginia. A place down by the water. It was quiet. It was secluded and it was mostly a small place but he liked to have a place where he could be alone from time to time.
Though Buster was a confident, cocky, mouthy, snarky asshole.... The truth was... He just didn't like people that much. He used them. Buster was all about what served Buster. He rarely did anything with his powers that didn't serve him in some way or another. Buster had hooked up with the Fools when he was younger. They welcomed him in and gave him a home that wasn't broken. They were the only people he ever cared about to be honest. Buster had never had a dog. He had never had a pet to love and care for. He supposed it would be good for him. A companion on those lonely nights. His life was a series of one night stands. He never cared to know a woman for more than a single night and by morning she was gone. Most left as soon as they thought he was sleeping. The confident, cocky, mouthy, snarky asshole is fun for a romp in the hay but you don't try to make a go of it. He's not boyfriend material. That would just be crazy.
Buster hung up with Johnny and stepped back inside. He was greeted with a soft friendly smile from the vet. "She did great. You're going to want to have her take it easy for awhile...." The woman bit her lip. She had suspected Buster of putting her in a dog fight and she wrestled with the idea the whole time. Buster's eyes were soft and caring and concerned though. They were the scared eyes of a man who was honestly worried about the dog's safety, not those of someone who would pit it against a fight for it's life. When she said Biscuit was okay Buster's eyes lit up. He crouched down in front of her and threw his arms around Biscuit's neck gratefully. He hugged her lightly and scratched her head as the vet walker her out into the lobby. "Honestly I just found her in an ally about an hour ago. Buster admitted.
"Oh, I see." The vet said. Her smile widened. Now she thought that Buster was a good guy! Cute and thoughtful, maybe a crazy hairdo at first but Buster had slicked it down and smoothed it out while he was making his phone calls. Now she could see a real heartbreaker in her office. His leather jacket had a strange logo on the back. He looked like he belonged to some sort of motorcycle club. And he rescues wounded animals! A sensitive badboy with a good heart and a kind smile. Oh I could just melt! She thought. "Well it's a good thing she found you. You saved her life." The woman said. Buster wasn't looking at the woman anymore. He was looking at Biscuit. She had crazy eyes. She reminded him of a big panther. Black and beautiful. "I guess I did huh? What do I owe ya?" Buster asked standing up.
He was holding a leash attached to a generic pink collar. The vet wanted him to have a way to take her out of the office. Buster stood up and leaned on the counter. The girl was back on the other side of the window now. "That'll be $350" She said quietly. She kept stealing little glances at Buster and he didn't really notice. He reached in the pocket of his jacket and pulled out his money. He just barely had enough to cover it. He handed over the cash with a sigh and looked down at the dog again. Yeah, I think I'll hang onto her. Buster thought. "Here's your receipt." The woman said and slip a paper across the table. Buster took the paper and looked at it a moment. It had his receipt and it also had the woman's phone number. There was a little heart scribbled at the bottom beside a name. Vicky. And the words call me. Buster smirked and tucked it into his jacket. Reaching out a hand he cupped under her chin and kind of teased her. "You bet. You stay beautiful dollbaby." Buster said with all his inherent smoothness.
Buster headed outside with Biscuit right behind him. The sun was bright and right in his face. He shielded his eyes against the offensive dick of a sun. "You're with me poochie. You gotta take a shit or something? I ain't never had no dog before. Go for a walk?" Buster jerked lightly at the leash. He wasn't sure how to make this thing go. If there was some sort of command word that meant take a shit and if he had to say it to get her to understand why they were standing out in the grass. Honestly he was pretty happy. The dog didn't die. He got the number of a curvy blonde and....Fuck! My bagels! Buster finally remembered. He was getting pretty hungry too. "Hurry up and take a shit, I'll get us something to eat." Buster reached in his jacket for some cigarettes and put one in his mouth. It had been all of twenty seconds and already he was missing his superspeed. The dog just seemed to stand there and stare at him not really understanding what he wanted. "Pop a squat and take your shot dog." Buster lit up his cigarette and stared at the dog. After all dogs aren't shy about going to the bathroom in front of people anyways.
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When she found her feet she was still a bit wobbly from being drugged. Her healing had already started to kick in but it was going to take a few hours before she was feeling fully back to normal. The leather jacket guy was there and he hugged her neck which made her stiffen a bit. She never cared for these hugs but she let her tail wag a bit just to give him something. Her amber colored eyes noticed the hot pink leash on her neck and her gaze traveled to her reflection. There was a hideous pink collar to match it and they just wasn't going to work for her. Though the bandage around her neck and torso was the same shade of pink.
She looked like god damn Franken dog with wounds and stitches everywhere. This was just not going to do at all and soon she could change that. her black nose sniffed at the air and took in the deep scent of the man who saved her. Being a dog she could smell everything so much better than a human. She didn't even need to here the blonde bimbo talk to sniff out pheromones she was giving off. A slight huff came from the dogs mouth and when it was time to leave Sophia pulled at the leash limping out of the office. Even for a injured state she still had pure muscle in this form.
Once they were out she looked around at the busy city streets and found herself in the grass on some curbside. This place didn't smell like new York so she was far from her last home. Which that now meant she was stuck with this guy until a better deal came along. He started talking to her and she turned and stared at him. He was trying to give her audio commands like some sort of electronic which made her stare vacant. Yeah she knew what he was saying but she didn't really wanna do her business in the middle of the city street.
Her past homes had yards and she would go behind the bushes if she had to. Slowly her nose went down to sniff at the flowers as she took her sweet time. Some how she got a sick pleasure of making people wait on her to take her time. Eventually she gave up her stubborn ness and popped a squat right in front of a sign with bags that people had to use to pick up dog mess. When she was done her back feet scratched at the ground in a way of marking her territory. Hey when you live the life of a dog you just don't think about it. Everything comes so natural so she would just go with the flow.
Post by Buster Fleetfoot on Apr 17, 2018 23:29:41 GMT
Buster had stopped paying attention to the dog. Mostly because a couple of skirts walked past him and caught his eye. One of them smiled at him and waved in a flirty way. Buster gave her a what's up head nod and a smile of his own. They were wearing short skirts and strapless tops. Long blond hair and legs that went all the way up to Canada. Buster was easily distracted. His cigarette was burning between his lips and he took it out of his mouth taking a deep puff on it. "You're definitely going to be chick bait." Buster said talking more to himself than to Biscuit. Buster didn't realize that she was in the middle of doing her business.
He took a step to the right and squish. He nearly slipped. "What the f--Ah man!" Buster stepped right into a hot pile of 'business.' His shoes were still very hot from the friction of the asphalt. They were no longer smoking but they heated up the shit in a rather interesting way. Suddenly his nostrils were stinging with the smell of burning shit. He coughed and gagged and doubled over. The two cuties had already rounded the corner. He was left alone with his nausea and man's best friend. "These were fucking new!" Buster complained. He didn't seem to get much sympathy from his new canine companion. Buster began to scrap his favorite shoes against the sidewalk curb. It scrapped off in thick heavy, drooping plops. "Jesus fuck!" Buster was a creature of habit. He liked things a particular way. He was the type of guy that carried a comb on him at all times to keep every hair in place. He's known this dog for like an hour and already there was blood on his hands and clothes and a healthy amount of shit burning on the bottom of his shoe. Buster irratatedly jerked the leash. Not rough, but enough to signify they were leaving. "Come on, lets go get some food." He grumbled.
They walked down the street in mostly silence. Every so often Buster would take a puff of his cigarette until he was done with it and he casually flicked it away. They traveled down the sidewalk. At a walking pace. Damn he hated walking. He couldn't think of anything more mundane or civilian. Already he could feel his muscles aching to just burst forth in a blaze of speed. He couldn't focus. He couldn't think about anything besides the smell that seemed to follow him now. He had long scrapped it off, but it lingered with him. Walking down the sidewalk a few more attractive woman came bounding towards him. Their brisk steps making their breasts almost dare to jump out of their tops as they bounced with their stride. Buster began to grin. That was.... Until they made a face at him disgusted and revolted by the smell. "Hello ladi....." Buster realized what was happening as they hurried past him. "Fuck."
Buster stopped in his tracks. He looked down at the dog by his feet on the leash. She looked back up at him. He pushed the side of his face up in a sort of defeated, tired look of acceptance. His tongue clicked on the inside of his mouth. "We gotta work on your wing man skills." They walked a little bit longer until they came to a small shopping center. There was a pet store called Pets A Plenty! Buster walked casually inside and grabbed a shopping basket. Buster tied the leash tightly to the cart's handle. "Let's get you the basics." By basics Buster meant a dog bed, a few bowls, some food maybe a few toys. He had stolen credit cards in his wallet. A lot of them. What the fuck did he care? Buster pushed the cart down the first isle and picked up the nicest biggest bed he could find. He dropped it in the cart. It flopped over the side slightly with the price tag dangling right in front of Biscuit's face. "$450"
A couple of clangs rang out as Buster tossed a couple of metal dog bowls in the cart. One of which had Biscuit's name printed on the side. Buster's phone rang. Suddenly the quiet little store was filled with the awkward song. "Oh me so horny oh oh me so horny, oh me so horny me love you long time!" Buster picked up the phone and held it with his shoulder. "Yeah? As he was speaking Buster picked up one of those E-Collars and put it in the cart. To keep the dog from biting at her stitches like the vet suggested. Oh nothing just bullshittin...." Clang Buster dropped a giant sized meaty dog bone in the cart, the size of which could have fed Dino from the Flintstones. "Yeah? Well shit I'm headed that way next just wait up for me. Alright cool." Buster hung up without another word. He walked over to the dog food. "Chicken or Fish?" He watched her carefully and she seemed to respond more to the fish so he threw it in the cart.
"Can i help you find anything?" A young pimply teenage boy asked. Buster just stared at him. He was chewing a pieces of gum. His jaw moved slowly and mechanically. Buster gave him a vacant uninterested stare that said go the fuck away. After a few moments the tension became noticably uncomfortable and the kid made and excuse to leave. "I'll be over here if you need anything." Buster still said nothing. He used to feel that way when he was a kid. Powerless to do anything when his drunk dad handed him down a beating every night. That was before he discovered his speed. He wasn't some spineless kid anymore. He was a fool. They had a repuation. Speaking of reputation Buster picked up a sign. It said "Beware of dog. Meanest in Detroit!" He put that in the basket as well and started wheeling his way to the check out. Buster threw everything up on the counter and pulled out another cigarette. He tucked it behind his ear for when he got outside. The check out girl smiled a flashy smile at Buster and he smiled back. His life was great. He could have basically anything he wanted. Any girl he wanted. What's not to love? "Cute dog." The girl said as she rang up his stuff. She cast him another look between ringing up his items and looking at Biscuit. "Her name is Biscuit. What's yours?" Buster asked leaning on the counter. Yep. Having a dog was gonna be great. It was paying off already. Buster pulled out a stolen credit card and handed it to the girl to pay. She looked at it and raised and eyebrow. "Elliot Wong?" Buster seemed surprised for a second. "Uh... I'm adopted." He said and smiled politely.
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Normally doing her business as a dog wouldn't bother her but in the middle of city streets people passing and staring just seemed demeaning. Then again all they saw was a dog doing what it normally would. She finished up just in time to hear the squish and disgusted squeals from her new 'owner'. If she could've then she would've rolled over laughing on the pavement but instead her tailed wagged. Sitting and watching him scrape it off and complain was amusing. Soon he jerked the leashed and for a moment she pondered laying down and making him carry her. How you gonna jerk around a injured dog? Rude.
Following his slowly she was looking around at signs trying to figure out where she was. An address showed that they were in Detroit which meant she was a long way from her old home. When they walked into a pet store she sniffed the air and looked at the various faces buying things for the pet family. She watched as this guy tossed things in the buggy she was tied to. Jumping a bit when his obnoxious ringtone went off. For the most part she ignored his conversation growing even more disinterested.
Her head lowered when the pimply teenager that wreaked of desperation walked up. He truly was pathetic as far as teen boys went and she kinda had a bit of pity for him as her new owner just stared him into oblivion. Typically she wasn't fond of people but this guy was someone that peaked her interest for the most part. Eventually they made it to the check out counter where she stood in the background. The girl was pretty and gave her a compliment which caused mr smooth to be all over that.
He really didn't give up on the flirting now did he? Still she couldn't have anything come between her and her meal ticket. Out of sight of her owner but clearly insight of the girl her lips curled. The hair on her back stood up and ivory teeth showed vicious intent. The girl dropped the credit card she was handed and quickly swiped it when she picked it back up. She all but shoved it at Buster and excused herself for her break. When Buster looked down at her she just wagged her tail like a normal happy go lucky dog.
The guy seemed confused but they made it back outside and hopped a cab back to her new home. It was a dingy old place that reeked of alcohol and drugs. Following him back to what she assumed was his room. The decor left alot to be desired and quickly she moved over to the bed and jumped on it. Flopping over like a 100 plus pound dead weight she stared at the string bean of a man.
