Pincher hated his name. Now, there was a very obvious question that would rise when he would admit his seething hatred for it. Why did he go by Pincher if he hated it so much? In a sense, it was because of his pride and his stubborness — the very two things that had been his downfall and had killed him. He remembered clearly how he had recieved the nickname, how it had been meant to be a mockery of who he was. He had been a curious little child, filled with wonder about the world and what it held which included the peculiar creatures it had created from dust and dirt. One of them had been a scuttling blue crab that young Deniz chased after, amazed by how peculiar it walked and moved across a lonely beach that he was temporarily staying alongside the nomad group his dad lead. The oblivious child thought that nothing would go wrong upon trying to sneak upon the sea dweller but when he lurched forward to pounce on it, the blue crab instantly pinched his nose with its pincer and caused Deniz to cry out for help. The tiny child ran about, wailing for it to be taken off while the other gangsters laughed at the hilarious sight. After that, Pincher was the nickname that had been placed upon him despite the child's protest on how ridiculous the name sounded. But no one would hear his pleas and he eventually caved in, accepting to go by the codename "Pincher" despite his distaste for it.

As time passed, Pincher began to hold a reputation within the name's timelapse. He became known as dangerous, deadly, and a growing threat. Everything his father had wanted him to be. He knew it was wrong that he desired to be accepted within his father's gaze but he couldn't help it. All his life, he had recieved pain and hatred from him and to be able to finally see a glint of pride when someone trembled when Pincher passed was something of an exciting thrill that was addictive than any drug he could have in his possession. Despite his desire to disobey and rebel, it was nice to feel accepted for once in his life. So he decided to keep it, to show that he could bring pride to a nickname that had been rooted on mockery of who he was. Besides he didn't really like Delmar or Deniz for himself. They felt detached and as if they were not his real names that he had been given. The muscular wildcat was settled upon a hammock, his eyelids shut as he allowed for the wind to gently rock his laying form side to side, the relaxing crashing sounds of the wave causing him to slowly drift away from his thoughts to sleep. Except, he was not gonna be given that chance.

Before he could finally allow himself to relax, Pincher was suddenly forced to crash back into reality when he felt a sudden prick strike his back. It caused the male's brilliant ocean blue gaze to snap open and a Romanian swear word to slip out of his lips as he glanced around to see what it was. Then he saw it. Not just one fucking blue crab. But multiple ones. With fucking knives. How the fuck were they holding knives? Where the fuck did they get knives? He grimaced, realizing how many knives Capricorn Tavern had. "Son of a bitc-" before Pincher could finish his annoyed phrase,he was suddenly swarmed by the crabs on the low hammock, his jaws parted in a silent scream as he aimed to paw them away but was bombarded by them, causing him to become tangled into the hammock as he tried to shake them off. "Get the fuck off me..." Pincher snarled as he collapsed to the ground by the weight of the crabs with knives, grunting as he felt some of them already begin to cut him up but he didn't really care since he couldn't die. Yet it was annoying to get them off as he tried to paw them away, his white front paw kicking off one although Pincher yelped as one pinched his tail tip and he began to scramble to get that one off. Fuck, this was embarrassing.

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"Such a.. Crabby situtation, aye, boss?" Owen's soft chuckle sounded from outside of the pile of blue crabs, eyes curiously watching the weaponized sea creatures with a look of mild amusement. Wow, this was a good ass show. And Pincher was just.. Letting 'em have it. He heard rumors about how the guy couldn't die, but it still kind of worried him. Should he help him?

"Do.. You need help there, man?" Owen asked awkwardly, tilting his head to the side. The shepherd was merely watching, but didn't notice the little blue crab sneaking up behind him, soon stabbing his tail. "OI! FUCKIN' HELL, MAN!" He yelped out, flinging the crab and a splatter of blood across the area they were at. Fuck that.

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