((Haha! I lol'd at the 'angry French kid'!))


Blinded by pure rage, Ange continued to pound the guards into the ground, using his full strength to beat them over and over again. He slowly began to settle down a little and he continued to punch one of the guards he'd knocked to the ground in the face, over and over until his fists were bloody. Ange couldn't tell if it was his own blood, or blood from the guard. Maybe it was a mixture of both? Very slowly, Ange felt his heart rate slowly drop, and with each second his heart began to slow, he delivered another lunch to the gusrd's face... As his heart reached its resting rate, his punches subsided and he stared down at the guard from where he knelt next to his face. Ange was panting... Beating people up surely took a lot out of you!

Ange turned to Vanity, noticing the ugly shade her skin was turning into. He ran to her side, slowly slipping one of her arms over his shoulders.

"Don't think I am helping you because I care about you." Ange snorted. "You said you'd find the tools... You can't find them if you're locked up somewhere." Or dead. Ange thought, but the words didn't leave his tongue and he wa grateful for that. "Steady, Vanity." Ange spoke as he helped her to her feet. "What did they do to you?" Ange asked, but he didn't wait for an answer, after all, it was a rhetorical question.

"Those assholes!" Ange growled. "You'll have to come with me, Vanity. This place... It's no good for either of us. We need to escape. Now!"

((Sorry it's so short!))