Keys to the Kingdom

My pink monster

Meanwhile...

The sky was was a dusky gray, as the bright rays of the sun bid goodbye to York New, and the white tendrils of the moon rippled across the tips of the skyscrapers. The sky was peaceful, the transition between day to night so pristine and routine that no one batted an eye as it happened. But down below, in the hidden crevices of the poorly laid concrete resided many threats.

Threat is a relative term, and truly, it depends all on perspective. Who is being preyed upon, and who is doing the preying, or in some cases- the praying.

Machi said tentatively, "Boss, we need to go, we have that fucking clown to take care of, as well as the work stealing-" Chrollo sighed exhaustedly, cutting her off. She winced, recounting her error. He stood unmoving before the altar of the four headed entity, its eight half- lidded eyes prompting goosebumps to rise across Machi's skin. A soft, oddly soothing voice slithered out from the man prostrated before his third favorite shrine. His back was hunched, his fur coat tight around his muscles back, his hair loose, framing his head like a halo. Finally, he spoke, his gentle voice so foggily indistinct, that many of those who met him, forgot how he sounded almost immediately. "You know I hate the way you wield that word, Machi. You are welcome to use it..."He whispered, his head still bent, his back to her. She nodded curtly, remembering how he chastised her before for the way she said stealing as of it was simple verb. To him, stealing is a lifestyle, a religion of you will. to many of the troupe it is. But to machi is was just, well, stealing. "Right, I apologize captain." She said sincerely, while loading her glock Pakunoda gifted her with. He sighed and rose to his feet, turning around. His indecipherable gray eyes surveyed her. "So be it then, I will finish my session another time. Let us steal from the Belmonts and acquire our destiny." Machi nodded with satisfaction as they exited his bloodstained chapel.

The half the troupe awaited their leader directly outside the door, the other half already gone. Pakunoda, Nobunaga, Machi, and Feitan. The rest had already departed. The group split up as Chrollo gave minimal directions on how exactly they'd relieve the remaining Belmonts of their heads. Hisoka was in no condition to participate in this mission. Chrollo preferred to utilize Hisoka when they had much to gain and little to lose. Chrollo enjoyed  Hisoka and found him to be greatly amusing, even when he was off his rocker, (which nowadays- he always is). What's more is, Chrollo couldn't help but feel a bit of kinship for him as a Troupe member, whether it be temporary or permanent- he was still one of them. Chrollo also had other more threatening interests regarding Hisoka.

But then again, threat is relative.
~
"Mmmm yesss love, just uhnnn, just like, ahhhhhh..." Hisoka moaned throatily as he ground his crotch onto the cool metal pole. His body was covered in a shimmering layer of iridescent body paint, his long member slung in a skimpy lavender thong. His muscles rippled as he kissed and murmed intelligible words to the pole, which he'd affectionately named y/n.

His sensual, lethargic movements enraptured those who watched. His plump pink lips stretched into a blissful smile as his shimmering eyelids lowered. The crowd that wasn't to drunk or high to stand up properly roared their approval, and threw stacks of money to him, which to him, looked like the fluttering wings of his wife's nen. his cherry red tongue slithered out and wrapped around the pole as his eyes lay turned upward. "Unnnnngh those pretty frippits flying softly..." he murmed as his eyes tracked the money. His firey hair framed his strong jaw, and honeyed smile. His wide hips, thick thighs, and thin waist, shook as he laughed and gave the pole a blow job, deciding that's what y/n would like tonight. Y/n must really love him, to stay on that stage and let him touch her every night, he thought.

Those in audience who weren't already kissing or sucking someone began masturbating to his dance, the banging music drowning out their eager moans. the flashing strobe lights illuminated the debauchery below.  The DJ smiled as she gazed at Hisoka, her heart speeding up at Hisoka's display. She glanced away, remembering her duties. The loud rhythms bounced within the soundproof walls and infected the minds of these people. Though, how infected can a man's mind become, if it's already rotting away?