Collab between Mach2 and YoshiSkittlez -------------------------- At her question, Deon couldn't help but to stop walking and turn to face her, observing her facial expressions in the shadows of darkness that cloaked the ally they were currently in, only a lone street lamp a few meters off being the only light that caught the look of hunger and desperation in her eye which made him snicker a bit. "Now hold up baby, what's this worth to you anyway? I got me some stuff too and I'm all about having a good ol' time." He licked his dry lips, his eyes scanning down from her face to her chest, or lack of. She was just damn skinny, but then again...a girl THAT skinny was bound to be tight in all the right places... Vander fixed him with a deep scowl as the subtle request was spoken. No matter how desperate she may be…she still had moral reservations. She’d made herself a promise that she was never going to sink [i]that[/i] low to get herself some Lucid. Even beneath the thick shield of her oversized jacket, she felt invaded as he stared her up and down. “It’s worth a lot to me,” she answered, choosing her words carefully. “But I’m not one of those girls who’re gonna follow you home from the club. There’s got to be some other way I can pay you…” Vander racked her brains, trying to think up an example she could put forward. She came up with nothing. Curling his lip into a half-smirk/half-smile, Deon just shook his head slightly and then turned around, his back facing her once again and began to walk away. Just how far could he push her... Her eyes were still fixated on the backpack. She stood still, debating internally, for a total of roughly two seconds. Rushing forward, she closed the growing gap between herself and Deon. "Please...I don't have anywhere to get it from, and a withdrawal's gonna hit me a hell of a lot harder than another few hits will," she all-but-begged, trying to play the sympathy card. Deon heard her footsteps echo as she closed the distance between them, and quickly turned himself around. With the blink of an eye, his hand shot out and grabbed her frail wrist and tightened his hold around the small bone. He could feel her thin blood pulsing under the frail layer of skin, and as there seemed to be no muscle to cushion the bone, Deon was sure that if he clamped down any harder or jerked her wrist in a certain way, the bone would have cracked and snapped. She carefully suppressed the fear from creeping into her expression as he grabbed her wrist. Moving, fighting back, anything was out of the question. She could feel the pressure on the thin bones, and didn't want to test the strength of her own body. "You think I give a shit about your sob story?" He asked, releasing her wrist with a force that would have pushed her back from him a few feet. Vander stumbled, but regained her footing. Getting him to pity her wouldn't work. Reasoning with him was evidently out of the question as well. She stared fiercely at the ground, refusing to make eye contact. "All right. I want the syringes first, though," she told him, still trying to work the deal in her favour. A laugh that sounded more like a rabid dog's bark came from his throat. It was kind of cute the way she was still trying to reign dominant of this whole situation. Had he been in a worse-off mood, he wouldn't have found it cute though, rather annoying and would have just slapped the bitch down right then and there. "I don't think you're in a position to negotiate baby." He grinned, keeping his hand clutched on the backpack tightly. She'd been expecting that response, but it still crushed her when she heard it. There was no way she was going to come out on top. The best she could hope for was that he would follow through on his end of the deal. "Fine," she spat, letting as much bitterness as she dared to show in her voice. Without even so much as a warning, the back of Deon's free hand found Vander's cheek, striking her hard with the intention of forcing her to the ground. She staggered, but didn't stay on her feet this time. Every part of her was screaming [i]Run.[/i][i][b]RUN.[/i][/b] But if she moved now, there would be no Lucid. Instead, she watched as he took a couple of steps back and shrugged off the backpack from his bare shoulder and set it down on the pavement, keeping it well out of her reach. Squatting down, however, he opened up the bag and opened up the smaller bag of coke he had gotten from the warehouse and took a pinch, raising it to his nose and quickly inhaled, letting the burning sensation rupture his mind. Wiping his nose clean of the white powder, he then dug around in the backpack and found one of several syringes, already dosed up with the Lucid. All it needed was a little push. Holding the syringe in one hand, he stood back up and walked over to her, already feeling the trip of the cocaine pulsing through his own body as he stooped down next to her. She sat motionless, a bruise already beginning to form on her cheek where the failing blood vessels had been crushed. Vander had eyes only for the syringe. He took his free hand and forced her head to crane to the side before stabbing the needle into a vein in her neck and then slowly began to inject the liquid into her blood stream. When the syringe was finally empty, he pulled it out and tossed it to the side. His lips immediately went to her neck, his tongue pressing up against the small amount of blood that came from the hole in her neck and then proceeded to have his way with her...