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Nevada smiled, dazed. He walked towards the man who was holding him, reaching a hand out.

"I feel like you aren't going to move," he coughed, before laughing. The man seemed to want to take a step back, but he was frozen in place. Nevada looked up, his smile twisting into pure glee.

He ran a hand through his hair, before walking over to the man. He wrapped a small, delicate hand around the man's neck, another going up to his chin. He snapped his neck, and the man fell to the ground, smothering.

"I think the door is unlocked," he croaked, even though he had seen the man lock it behind him. The door clicked open, and he stepped through it. He grabbed onto his jaw and rotated it, trying to get the blood back into it, covering his eyes from the strong light.

It felt good to be able to speak again.

There was another man in the room, but he only stood there, his mouth agape.

"You should drop dead," he said, and the man's eyes rolled into the back of his head before he collapsed. He saw on the desk a few bottles of water, and chugged all of them. Damn, it felt good to not have a dry mouth.

A woman walked into the room, staring at him before looking around.

"What the...?" she said, taking a step back.

Nevada's arms flared out, "What can I say? I'm incredibly lucky."

The woman's eyes widened when she saw her dead coworkers, before Nevada spoke.

"I don't think you'll tell your coworkers," he said, walking past her, patting her on the shoulder as he did, "the cameras are broken!"

They fizzed and turned to the ground, and he walked around, looking for his favorite pet. He knew he was here with him, he'd heard the roaring from his stay.

He was surprised he kept his mind through it, then again, he wasn't exactly sure if he'd had it before. His mouth had been clamped shut before the stupid man had released it, in turn allowing for him to be killed.

Technically, he didn't even need to speak for his ability to work, but that was always the easiest option. For some damn reason though, no matter how hard he tried the clamps never loosened, no matter how much he hoped them to- which was annoying. For... dear, how long had it been?

Six? Six lousy months he'd spent with his mouth forced shut and a feeding tube in his stomach. He'd already pulled the tube, leaving a hole in his stomach, but it wasn't like he minded- the stomach acid burning the wound reminded him that he was alive- and oh! Was he fucking alive!

"I find Blackjack," he said, annoyed. He had no patience for anything, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. His mind created what was essentially a little arrow in front of him, and he started walking.

He found the black griffon chained up in some sort of lab. His claws were cut, and some of his feathers were pulled, but otherwise he seemed fine. The American led his steed out of the laboratory. Curiously, nobody seemed to notice them.

Blackjack snorted in his ear, and Nevada glanced at him.

"Ya, ya bitch, you got caught and I had to rescue you this time," Nevada mocked, and Blackjack hissed, "don't do that. Yain't a fucking snake."

They went into the woods. The sun was starting to set, making it a good time to get some food and go night flying.

Koko had a hand on his shoulder as he walked him downstairs. Matthew occasionally looked up at the other, finding nothing on his face. He didn't seem to care he'd just dropped his words like they were a bomb.

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