[shadow=darkblue,right]KILLUA[/shadow]

Killua wasn't exactly the type to make things out of his own creation. He had come across plenty of mechanics during his life, and those that were artists themselves. Killua knew that he would never fall into those categories, and at the same time he didn't really care all that much either. The wildcat knew that he was more of the type that would be willing to destroy rather than create. That had been what his family had created him for after all, and there was no getting away from what his family had really tried to do. It was horrible yes, but it was a realistic thought of what he was capable of. He was a fighter, and didn't have to worry about anything that was on his body. Actually, that was a lie. Compared to Bucky, Killua had metal claws that were fitted inside of his sheathes where his natural claws should have been. He had them removed when he was just a kitten, and when someone declaws a cat, it means that the claws will never end up growing back. He went through a surgery that happened while he was awake where metal claws were attached to the tendons that allowed claws to sheathe and unsheathe themselves. Fairly simple, but it also meant that he had to be careful when he first got them in because he could have his claws ripped out since they weren't completely attached to his flesh like a regular claw would end up being. Not all of his claws were metal though, and in fact his back legs had regular claws, as he rarely ever used his back claws. Didn't mean that any sort of claw was any less dangerous of course. The wildcat had his metal claws for quite a long time before ended up getting into a confrontation with his older brother. Killua didn't know what to really expect when his brother appeared, but one of the things his brother had done was rip out his metal claws, to where Killua had to get new ones for himself. Which required payment and hoping that the surgeon he paid would be good enough to get the job done right. That was around three months ago now, and his claws were working perfectly fine all things considered. However, they weren't renewable, and eventually, he would wear them down to the point where he would need to get new ones. Not an easy task because he doubted that anyone in the clans would be capable of surgery. He would have to wait for the right time, or he would be forced to go back to his families mansion, which was worst case scenario in his mind. Killua would never think of getting a prosthetic though, as there was basically no need when he couldn't even really feel his paws anyway thanks to the nerve damage that had been done to them. The assassin had no need to try and add really anything to his body, as it would give him a disadvantage to where he would have to learn how to work that portion of his body again. Killua himself knew plenty about technology and how some of them worked.

He had played video games in the mansion where he had grown up in, he knew what phones and other pieces of technology were. He knew the basics though, as he hasn't been around technology for a very long time as he knew they were easily broken. Killua had the ability to activate technology thanks to his electricity elementals, but even that was a tax on his body in the end. Either way, Killua had never really met someone that had a metal prosthetic limb. A prosthetic eye he has seen, but that was a very long time ago. The albino serval was making his daily trip toward camp when he caught a familiar scent. Stark. The other had ended up becoming a father figure to him, although he wouldn't openly say it out loud either. The assassin's metal claws were sheathed, and he had bandages wrapped around his throat and right leg. The bandage on his right leg having blood dotting certain areas, and the injuries were something he had caused by himself. Not his greatest moment but not much he could have done while he was asleep. Killua blinked his sapphire blue eyes as both August and Stark were standing around someone that he had never seen before. Bucky had happened to join when Killua had gotten his injuries and decided to basically hide from the rest of the clan until he was capable of walking without a limb. There was a metal limb that was on the ground, and the stranger seemed to be struggling a little bit. The Snowstriker stopped next to Stark, his eyes trailing over the brown maine coon. It reminded him too much of Circusclown. A feeling that he was quick to snuff out before he got emotional. But there was something else about the other. He got a bad vibe from him. The voice in the back of his head was trying to warn him of something, and Killua tried to ignore it. But that was basically impossible with the way that the voice ultimately ended up working. He clenched his jaw before sitting down and acted like there was nothing wrong with the current situation. "I'm guessing its not supposed to do that?" Killua would tease with a smirk spreading across his facial features. He raised his left paw and conjured up a lollipop that he was quick to pop into his mouth. He flicked one of his large white ears as his gaze traveled to Stark who was offering to help. Well, at least he wouldn't have to help with a situation he wasn't skilled with. Killua's air elementals were indeed on to constantly hide his scent and make it so that his approach would be silent. He had a bad feeling that he couldn't shake off. "Never seen ya before. What's your name? And what happened to ya?" Killua questioned the other, not really seeming to care if he was in any condition to answer said questions. "Oh, but Stark here can fix ya up." Killua stated with a shrug of his shoulders. He spoke in a calm tone, his facial expression returning back to neutral after he had smirked toward the maine coon.

snowbound -- snowstriker -- male -- 8 moons