Death Of An Assassin

The man gave a mighty tug and with one last squelch the girl came from of the mud. With that lust tug though Nnoitra was fortunate. While he was plunging his face into the disgusting swamp he had momentarily stopped paying attention to Morphine. He had not expected her to come charging at him with the intent to keep him from saving her. At the same time he pulled Cyanide out from the mud he felt teeth sink into his haunch barely avoiding her intended target. A snarl left his muzzle and lips pulled back to reveal sharp ivories as he instinctively turned towards Morphine's direction to snap at her, curling his body inwards towards her body assuming she was still there.

Ears would flick backwards in irritation and what Cyanide said was nearly lost. He was upset. Betrayal showed in his eyes and he was hurt. Here Morphine was attacking him for a crime he did not commit. He had done nothing to the white Ex-Queen and here she had no problem attacking him to achieve her own goals. She had served him loyally and had they met on different terms such as this he couldn't help but wonder if she'd still be enraged by him.

Visage would correct itself as he calmed himself letting his intended snap fall short as he pulled back before attempting to further reach her. Hair still stood on end and it was very clear he was not pleased with the situation.

"Morphine."

He said icily. Insulted would be the word for it. He never would have attacked her had the roles been reversed, so why did she feel the need to turn on him now?

"Talk"