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the heart does go on
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There are many stories
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//
I appreciate all of your patience, I just had a few last things to clean up with school this past week, but now I'm officially free~
Please feel free to send me an ask if you're waiting on a reply from me!
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"Oi, chew toy! Got a question for you."
"Well, out with it then, Mutt. What is it? Cat got your tongue?"

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Sasori looked at him, setting the needle back down on the counter. How foolish of him to come, yet to come alone? He had more trust in the puppet than suspected.
"Someone may come looking, but they won't find you," he murmured while withdrawing a long, almost tube-like needle from a drawer.
"And I will take as long as I please. I've never done this before... successfully. It may take some time to get it right, but I feel like you are the perfect test subject." A grin spread across his face as he lowered himself above the boy. There was no polished, wooden smell. It was a scent of sweat, of heat, and of fear. Kankuro was scared. Appropriately so, yet to give in so easily? Where was the struggle? The pleading? The cursing? The fun? "You will stay here - alive - for as long as I need you. Death is not an option."
The letter was addressed to Kankuro, and whatever seal had been on it was something he would recognize. That was why everyone at the mailing service was far too nervous to tell him about it. But Kankuro recognized it as Sasori’s mark, the one he’d sanded off of most of his puppets when he found them in the shed near the mansion. The letter was from Sasori.
Why the hell did I agree to it?
Kankuro had followed the directions on the letter perfectly. He’d arrived unarmed about three miles outside of Suna’s gates. It wouldn’t have mattered whether or not Sasori came unarmed. They both used the same techniques, more or less, and a fight would only end in a draw.
Where am I?
Kankuro specifically remembered seeing Sasori, conversing for a moment or two. Things about Gaara, the Akatsuki, the puppets Kankuro had been using and how he’d gotten them. But that was where Kankuro’s memory failed him. It had gotten dark and then—
Why can’t I move?!
Then Kankuro’s thoughts came into focus, but he wasn’t standing in the desert with Sasori anymore. He couldn’t move, but he could tell there wasn’t anything holding him down. It was a struggle to even turn his head to inspect where he was, and when he realized his location, fear hit him like a train.
"What the hell do you want from me?! Let me go, you freak! You know you can’t keep me here long! Someone’ll come lookin’!"
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// I got an influx of followers these past few days, hello! It's been a really busy week for me, but starting tomorrow afternoon I should be able to become fully active again! Thank you for sticking with me, I'll get to replies as soon as I can~
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Sasori for Anon.
First time ever drawing him! I hope he looks fine :D!
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S a k u r a & C h i y o vs. S a s o r i
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{x}
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//Actual naruto trash
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//Sorry for inactivity! Preparing for the con earlier in the week and now I'm there. I already saw Tobiiornittobii(Lindsey), if anyone else is at anext let me know!
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H▲X▲N for similar
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Being in a cage, it was a feeling unknown to the puppet. He had never let anyone confine him, no. If anything he was the one putting people in cages. He was the one in power. Putting others down and making them suffer... Sasori's place in life was certainly an interesting one.
It seemed as though the seed had been planted. One idea, one suggestion slipped into someone's mind -- it could cause a snowball effect that was truly the worst. All because it was a self-inflicted wound, for no one was feeding the thoughts anymore. Those were pulled from deep fears and worries. A personal poison. Her poison was weakness and insecurity.
"Are they not the ones who have abandoned you, time and time again? Can you not simply do what you want? Come and go as your please?" Who were they to worry about Hinata, his puppet-to-be?
but, it was her home——
and perhaps long ago, she would have most certainly referred to it as a cage. she, too, was confined within its steal bars and was told to hush, as though young heiresses were simply meant to be seen, and not heard. she was told she was much too soft, too weak to handle the strengths and chaos the outside world provided, leaked with the metallic scents of blood and decay. yet, she had grown, had she not? she had worked herself, proven to her teammates and her family that she could handle herself. she was not the little rabbit hearted girl they knew. still, the soft spoken words seeping past the puppeteer’s lips hindered her to continue on foot. expression was stilled, hands quivering at her sides. if she did leave, would her life continue to be dictated about; to still be seen as less then, rather then equal like the rest of them?would her fate remain solely on ground where those who could not risk the idea of flight?
“ —— .. but, they .. need me. they’re .. counting on me to come back. ” she loved them—— and they showed that. then, why was he coaxing her to stay? conflict rose within the hyuga’s questioning voice; hands now fumbling together, as though pondering on the very idea of returning to where she was needed most. she needed to return, to let those she knew she was perfectly fine—no danger whatsoever. lowering her gaze, another step back was taken. “ .. i can’t .. abandon them. ”
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Tried to do a makeup test for Sasori yesterday if you can see it through the blinding light u v u);;
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While his workshop was rather dimly-lit and humid, his... lab was more of a cool, bright place. Various chemicals lined the shelves, some having a paper -- who knows what was written -- tucked neatly behind the jar. Eyeballs, brains, lungs -- they all lined the shelves.Where in some places tools would be hung for carving wood, one could fine sharp metal instruments of varying sizes, each meant to carve a softer material. There was a hack saw, a drill, some forceps, some scalpels, some hooks... many surgical tools. Or dissection. Or torture. That would really depend on who's on the table.
This time, the lucky patient was here for just two.
The table he was laid on was cleaned to a sparkle, but below was something entirely. A mysterious substance was near the stand, coated in blood and what appeared to be slimy slabs of skin. While the blood appeared to be old, nothing was exactly fresh there. The floor itself was a hard tile; light blue in color. The whole room seemed to have a blue tint, as the lighting was bright, but not yellow.The counters a marble instead of wood. Some time had clearly been spent constructing this room.
With the smallest smile on his face, Sasori injected the serum to wake his test subject. There was no worry of him escaping -- a jutsu had been used to paralyze any muscle movement below the head. He could blink and talk, or scream if he wished, but there would be no thrashing or head turning while he worked. No, that might ruin the process. The puppet needed him, and he needed him still yet alive.
It was tough business, extracting jutsu. It was impossible to recover from someone who was dead, but no one alive was really willing to have their essence pulled out.
"Wake up now," he whispered lowly into the other's ear. "We've got a long night ahead of us."
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