They always got in trouble. But, whenever they did they always made it out okay. No one usually died, but there were a couple close calls over the several years. He had been used to being the go-to guy when shit hit the fun and to get them out of horrible situations. Although, there were a couple times where he was the one to get them in trouble by shooting up someone that they needed that had simply pissed him off. Not many could say that they managed to get away from the crew. They broke the law and most didn't have any morals when it came to killing innocents, and he wasn't any different. He remembers how the heist was going and the building that they would take on. All of the crew was there and they were in their positions. He was often regarded as being a great shot and also dealing with the explosives. He was great with weapons and guns like most couldn't imagine, and he knew that the crew didn't try to make him angry out of simple fear of what he could end up doing to them. He wasn't entirely a team player when it came to the gang, turning from a law holder of society to a gang member was certainly a drastic take to step, and he knew he left bonds behind for what he had done. The building that they had been targetting was in the middle of a city and was owned by a different crime boss by a different game. The guy was fully loaded with guns and money. That was their target to hit, and they spent weeks coming up with a heist to make sure that everything was going to go smoothly. They always ran into snags, but it was never anything that they couldn't handle. He didn't know what happened that night. Everything was okay by the textbook, and they had started to surround the building. Some of the crew were wearing disguises and were already in the building. He was on a rooftop that was just nearby, a sniper in hand ready to take off the enemy one by one. The first explosion went off inside of the building and that was the cue for everyone to swarm the building.

He felt the recoil from the weapon to his shoulder as he fired off several shots over and over again, watching blood and brain matter splatter across walls and the pavement. They were preoccupied with everything happening inside that they didn't seem to notice him. But, there wasn't enough chat going off with their radios, which was strange. Majority of those in the crew was talkative, and no one had checked in the past couple of minutes. He looked through his scope as he watched one of the gang members ride up toward the entrance of the building. It was when he got out of the car that the radio on the floor next to him began to spark to life, at first it was only static, but he heard the pained voices from everyone that was inside of the building. He demanded everyone to check in, and all he got was a garbled response. There was something that was wrong. They hadn't calculated for something. They hadn't calculated that they would be waiting for him. A rain of bullets could be heard as soon as the front door opened, and he watched from a distance as his fellow gang member was littered with bullets, falling onto the top of the vehicle he had just gotten out of. At that moment, he only felt the rage of a former partner and teammate being killed and he raised his sniper to wait for someone to walk out of the door. He was going to blow their brains out. Because of his anger, he didn't manage to see as a red dot sight lined up with his head, and his attention slightly shifted to the bleeding man on the car. Turning purple, red. His finger was on the trigger, and he probably should have considered himself lucky that he didn't feel much as a sniper bullet pierced the metal mask he wore along with his skull. His body immediately went limp, and right after the bullet connected, a massive explosion destroyed the entire building. Killing everyone in just the span of a couple seconds. They had been played.

___________________________________________
He didn't remember falling from the sky. He didn't even remember how he had gotten here. Vagabond had no idea where HERE even was. There wasn't anyone that was willing to try and question with the male. He had arrived in this world waking up inside of a hole, probably crash landing somehow as there wasn't really an explanation. Had he died? He knew that their heist had been a complete failure and there was no way that they were going to get it back. What struck him as being extremely odd was that he was some sort of beast. He no longer had the dexterity of his hands or the guns that he once held close to him at all times. Instead, he was an animal. When he was a human, he had no remorse for the likes of any creature, even sometimes going out into the outskirts of the city to release some steam and take pot shots of nearby animals. No one knew what he did, and he honestly didn't care. Vagabond had been through plenty of scenarios. With working with an organization and then joining a gang, later on, meant that he had a lot of experience with seeing the weirdest things. He was fairly certain that turning into some sort of animal wasn't on the top of his list, but it was now. One thing that was at least reassuring was the metal skull mask that covered the Hellhound's face. Holes only for his eyes and for his nostrils so that he could continue breathing. It looked like that of an elongated human skull rather than him wearing a canine skull that would have fit his face better. The former human had remained in a panic and mental breakdown of his current condition.

This had to be his own personal hell. Well, if it was his own personal hell, he was going to make it his bitch. The mask that he wore on his face hid the worry, fear, and the unknown that laid across him. That had been three days ago. He had gotten a little bit of the hang of his large body, and the weapons that he had found on his journey. He hadn't managed to get hold of anyone as of late, and that was probably for the best. He had no need to trying to ask for direction and the only priority he had now was to get his bearings and learn what he could kill and steal to his benefit. No matter who came in his way. He hadn't had anything to eat in those three days, as hunting wasn't exactly easy for something as large as he was. The 6ft hellhound was certainly an intimidating figure to see walking around. His black fur and black mask hiding him within the shadows that he was known to hide behind. Even in this strange place, the shadows worked in his favor. He was resorting back to what he knew best, and so far it was working out for him.


Vagabond wasn't exactly starving either as he had a couple of food reserves left. The massive beast wasn't just all fur, and instead, there were scales that started slowly from the base of his neck to the end of his flank. Providing what almost was like armor plating in a sensitive area. Then, instead of two tails, the tails seemed to have almost split in half, forming two tails. An array of throwing knives was attached to a sash that spanned across his chest. He hadn't figured out the best way to throw the knives just yet, but he would eventually get the hang of it. He was handy with knives from almost the very beginning when he was a human. It was around dusk when he had arrived at the edge of the desert. His bright blue eyes looked at the slowly darkening expanse, and he continued walking through the desert. He needed to at least find something, as he had yet to even talk to anyone since he arrived. Was he even capable of talking? He was fairly certain he was as he had released plenty of screams and curses when he realized what he was. Although he wasn't much when it came to talking, and if anything was a man of few words. The 6ft tall black hellhound wasn't capable of taking in the scents around him and could most definitely consider trespassing. Vagabond wasn't going to take anything sitting down, and right now he could definitely use someone to maul to get out all of his pent-up emotions.

He didn't like not knowing what to expect in a place like this. He didn't know what could be considered dangerous in a place like this either. The former human didn't even think that he would come across anything that would remotely ease the anxiety that was hidden behind his mask. There was also the fact that, there was a chance that he wouldn't see anyone. That this world held nothing for him here. Being alone. With his own sanity, or the lack thereof. It would be the perfect torture for someone that didn't deserve to die and go to heaven and instead was forced to go the likes of Hell. He hated being taken advantage of, and this almost meant that if someone was trying to get him to break, he would make sure that he didn't just to spite them. He wasn't going to break underneath the likes of whatever fate had planned for him. He was stronger than that. At least that's what Vagabond considered himself to be. An immovable object. Anyone that tried to best him would usually get a bullet in their skulls or a knife to the throat. The city that he had once belonged to and took control over with the crew he was with, knew him by name. As soon as the Vagabond came to play, it would make everyone freeze in their boots completely, giving him enough time to usually take out a couple of them before they came to their senses of what they were dealing with.

Causing explosions and chaos was what he did best, and one could say that there wasn't an ounce of him that could even be remotely caring. The Hellhound didn't know what he was or how he got here. The only thing that was remotely familiar to him were the knives that were strapped across his chest with a military grade satchel that held them there. He didn't have any idea how to really throw them as his mask didn't allow him to use his jaws. Not that he would want to take off his mask, as showing any form of identity could turn to be a bad idea in a place like this. Vagabond's dual tails moved independently from one another, slightly longer than that of an actual canine's tail and a little bit thinner. Being a black speck in the slowly darkening desert didn't help him camouflage, and he wanted to get out of the desert so that he could at least find some cover. Thanks to his large weight, Vagabond's paws sank in the sand a little bit, and it immediately irritated him that he was sinking in the first place. Fuck sand. A frustrated expression was hidden behind his mask, and his bright blue eyes soon turned to when he saw movement slightly in front of him. He knew some animals, as he knew a couple crewmates he worked with had a couple of pets when they were alive. The Hellhound slowly turned his head to look at the creature as it got closer, and noticed that it was a cat. He knew cats.

He wondered if it was just going to be a stray, and the last thing he expected for the animal to start talking. It was one of the strangest things that he had ever witnessed, and his eyes didn't show said surprise. He placed his black paws as he looked down at the small thing compared to himself, tilting his head to the side slightly. The tilt of his head wasn't exactly curiosity. As the calico stopped in front of him, he didn't have control as the temperature around them would drop several degrees. He didn't know that powers existed and that he had air elementals. It got cold enough that small sparkles of frost started to speckle the ground. He certainly had a threatening demeanor. With what the cat said, they were acting as if this was some sort of gang territory. Did animals have gangs? At this point, anything was probably possible. Minutes seemed to pass by as the other just stared at the cat before he finally spoke. His voice was deep and devoid of real emotion. "What is this.. Rosebloods?" Vagabond questioned the other, his head still tilted. The Hellhound obviously didn't know what the other was talking about, and he didn't quite understand. Having always had a gun in his hand and bullets flying in his direction, he knew nothing about animals or this world. His voice was slightly muffled behind the metal mask that only revealed his blue eyes underneath. 

(IC opinions!)

He was a soldier. Some could say that he was a mercenary to some degree and they wouldn't be wrong. That was what he had been originally thought. He had been smart enough to take a little while in the police force when he was younger before he was drafted into an organization that worked with taking out underground companies that were against the law but something the government didn't want to touch because it was controversial. That was when they were brought in to do the dirty work, and because of the way that he had been trained he never really thought about refusing the orders that had been given to him. He was a soldier and he was doing just that. He remembered that there were instances where he had questioned something that was given to him as an order, and he was punished over and over again trying to go against what his higher commanders told him to do. The former human became well known as being one of the best, lethal with a gun from a distance and great when it came to technology and rigging explosions. Everyone had something that they did well in, and he made damn sure that no one could do as a better job than what he could do. He had worked for that organization for around 6 years, and during the beginning where he was working with them, he was given a partner, as solo missions were dangerous. He hadn't liked the idea of gaining a partner as he worked better alone or at least not with the likes of a rookie. Turns out the rookie was damn good when it came to a sniper. More than he was, not something that he was willing to admit at least. 6 years of trust and loyalty.

That had been what he had been giving the organization, nearly sacrificing his own life for the missions that they were set out on. Risking life and limb to complete their missions and believing that they were the good guys. Until he started to hear rumors and started digging a little bit. It was there that he realized that all the facilities that they were hitting were similar to those that owned them. The more he looked, the more he felt betrayed and used. The more he felt furious. He needed to do something, and while he was digging around someone had been watching his whereabouts. The likes of a gang that eventually he would join himself that was going to offer their help to take out the organization. He believed them and leaked information, and when he went out on missions with his partners, everything seemed to be wrong, or there was always a third party there to ruin everything. Eventually, he gave them the security codes to get into the building, and Vagabond remember watching the building being lit ablaze. He knew that his former partner had gotten out alive as that had been the last face he had seen before leaving the building. It was at that moment that he had adorned the mask to hide his identity. He had killed for the organization, and that meant there were others that could recognize his face. It didn't matter once he joined the gang, as the law started to recognize the mask he wore as basically a calling card. He never took off his mask around others either, so no one knew his past identity except for the crime boss he worked for, and even then the guy didn't know his actual names and they went by codenames instead.

The Hellhound would give anything now to hold a gun in his hands to just storm whatever place this was. He doubted that animals could survive in heat like this, despite it starting being evening. His vivid blue eyes caught sight of something else walking over toward them. The former human recognized it as some sort of dog. Again, he knew nothing about animals or whatever breeds they ended up being. He knew a lot of random facts about most things, but not about dogs. Either way, the canine was a lot smaller than he was and looked like a puppy compared to the 6ft tall mutated beast. Vagabond watched as the other seemed to tilt his head toward him the same way he had tilted his head toward the cat just a second ago. He moved his head into a neutral position when the other spoke. The dog wasn't able to see the smirk that spread across the Hellhound's lips behind the skull mask that he wore on his face. The Hellhound himself took a step toward Bugsy, as if testing to see the other's guts and if the other actually considered him to be a threat. Did he want to spout jokes? Well, so could he. "Says the pipsqueak napoleon complex who would probably get shot in the right neighborhood speaking like that. Your ass must be jealous of all the shit that comes out of your mouth kid." Vagabond would shoot out the words quick and sharp. He towered over the creature, but he needed information before he could do whatever the hell he wants like he used to do.

He believed this place to be a hell he was put in that was just to mess with him. He wasn't going to take anyone's shit. He needed everyone to either fear or respect him. There were no in-betweens. The Hellhound would close his mouth though and let the other speak, as it seemed like the dog wasn't completely useless and knew some things. Dysfunctional. Reminded him of how the gang he had been in ruled one another. The former human seemed to think over the words, as it was either he was going to have to keep moving or stay. He didn't say it had to be a permanent resident, not like he would try to become a permanent resident anywhere. For him, staying in one place for too long as basically asking for trouble. A 'hmm' seemed to escape the former human's jaws as he mulled over his options, before shrugging his shoulders. "I'll guess I'll stay." He didn't really have any other options. This was the first place he had come across that had creatures he could actually communicate with. His dual tails moved independently of one another, and he began to wonder if the small canine wanted to try his luck with someone like him. He had a size advantage, but he also didn't know powers existed. But other than his words, he didn't seem to be making any threats and did seem slightly interested in the place. That didn't mean he had to get along with everyone that was here. Especially since he didn't get along with the crew he ended up joining after leaving the organization. Stuff like that took time, and it seemed like he had a lot of it.