He wasn't quite sure what to think about the world that he was in. The creature had no idea what his next goal really held for him and if it meant that this was the next life for him to redeem all the crimes that he had done in his previous life. But, if someone thought that he was going to become an angel from being teleported to this world, then they would get the wrong idea immediately. Breaking habits weren't something that was easy to do in the least. So, instead of trying something new, he went back to his old habits, and it was doubtful that anyone would be able to break him out of said habits too. Before he became what he was today, he was a human that worked for a gang that he had sold out an organization that had been lying to him the 6 years that he had worked for them. In turn, he ended up betraying his best friend and partner, not realizing what the other would do if he found out that it was indeed him. He had never really been the one to play nice even when he had worked for an organization. He was a soldier. In the beginning, he upheld the law and made sure that those that didn't follow the low were either assassinated or put to jail. He never would have thought in the end he would become the type of person that he had sought to destroy. It was almost poetically ironic. Vagabond had closed himself off after the explosion of the organization, not really talking to anyone. Trying to snuff out the urges that he always had when they were on heists. He ended up bonding with the gang he had joined, and that was good for them as there was a less likely chance that he would shoot them in the back if he wanted the money for himself.

They became well known. Hell, they became famous in the city that was for damn certain. They were all wanted men, and he was one of the few that was capable of keeping them alive with the skills that he had on the table. The last thing he vaguely remembered was the building that they were raiding exploding in front of his face, the radios that they kept with each other going silent with static. He had watched his friend get gunned down before he failed to notice a sniper that was trained at his skull. Part of him believed that this was something that was just in his head to mess with him. As if someone had crafted his afterlife just to piss him off and see what he would break too. He didn't break easily, and he was going to morph whatever this afterlife was into his own playground. Even when he was a human, he held little to no respect for animals unless they belonged to one of the gang members. Which, probably wasn't good for what he planned to do. The Hellhound had learned a little bit about this world, but not much, and stuck with walking around till he could find anything interesting. It was either that or find something that he could get in trouble with. He needed to make a reputation for himself if he wanted to establish a good enough business after all. Vagabond didn't know about clan relations. He didn't know that there were even other groups around. He just knew that in the wild there were bound to be animals so he had walked into a random direction.

The Roseblood flicked one of his ears as he made his way toward the sound of an ocean. As he got closer to the area, he realized how damp the ground was, tilting his head slightly to the side. The Hellhound wore a black metal skull mask on his face at all times. Instead of it looking like that of a canine though, it seemed like it took the shape of an elongated human skull instead. Vagabond already assumed that humans existed in this world in some shape or form, and if they didn't, well it would certainly be a shock. The 6ft tall dark beast noticed that the ground seemed to be flooded slightly the further that he went in. Through the canopy of the trees, he could see a mountain in the distance. The Hellhound decided to make his direction toward that, obviously not noticing any border markers. With the mask he wore, it was impossible to catch any scents that were in the air because the holes that allowed him to breathe through his nostrils were tiny already. A set of throwing knives was attached to the military grade sash that he wore across his chest ready to use. He had learned a couple tricks the past couple of days, having spent already three days in this strange place as an animal. Vagabond didn't bother to keep himself silent as he moved around Sunhaven territory, obviously avoiding the more flooded areas. The Hellhound was indeed intimidating, his back actually covered in the likes of scales for protection and he had an extra tail as well, although it was slightly thinner than that of an actual canine tail. His black claws sank into the ground, as he hadn't had any fun since the last time he was a human. His hearing senses seemed to be increased somehow, and that was thanks to the enhanced senses he didn't know he had. Who would be a victim today?

[member=2827]finnloch.[/member]

He wasn't a good guy. Probably would never be. He knew exactly where that got him if he tried to play nice. It would almost seem like everything would happen better for him if he just kept his mouth shut and went to work with what he did best. He had learned plenty during his time as a soldier, not for the army but a soldier nonetheless. Vagabond's name sure as hell got popular, and at the same time, they knew that dealing with him would result in some sort of injury. He had gotten arrested before, only to either break out himself or to have his crew break him out from time to time. One would think that those in the police force would start to get to know them personally considering how many times that they interacted with them. The only issue was, that the police force was constantly replacing those that were killed trying to kill the crew that they were with. They were fairly hard to kill, and when they didn't die, they were incredibly obnoxious about it too. Almost to the point of being unbearable. They could try that with Vagabond, but he would immediately shut them down and tell them to shut up. Vagabond was still confused about what animals were capable of talking and which ones weren't. When he was a human, he was pretty sure that he never came across an animal that was capable of talking either. The former human had no reason to believe that every animal was the same either. His paws sank into the soaked ground, which made it a little difficult to try and remain silent. He was slightly hidden in the shadows of the treeline, his dark pelt helping him hide in the dark areas of the shadows.

Vagabond had no real reason to be stealthy as far as he knew. The Hellhound could just do whatever he wanted and he didn't think that anyone would be strong enough to best the likes of him. The former human was able to catch movement out of the corner of his eye from the mask that he wore. It was a cat. One like he saw at Rosebloods, but just a different coloration. Interesting. The other didn't seem to notice he was there, as Vagabond never really bothered to hide the likes of his scent anyway. While he was crouched, one of the throwing knives began to levitate out of its halter from the sash he wore across his chest, with the use of his air elementals. He didn't know how he was able to do something like that, he just started doing it, and didn't think to question it. The throwing knife hovered in the air for a moment, before he used the air elementals to throw the blade in Finnloch's direction, aiming to impale the female's back leg. It wouldn't sever anything important, and if anything it was just to keep her from running away. As, thanks to his size, his speed at running wasn't completely the best. As soon as he launched the blade, the 6ft tall black beast would come running out of cover and rushing the female. If the throwing knife did its work, the Hellhound would try to run fast enough to aim to pin her down to the ground with his paw. The scratched mask that he wore across his face leaving only his eyes visible, it hid the smirk that was spread across his facial features. "You a regular cat or are you a kitty that can talk?" The Hellhound growled in a deep voice because depending on whether the other was capable of speech or not would decide his next actions.

Torturing a human to get answers wasn't all that hard to accomplish. Humans usually only had their own survival in mind, although there were a couple of people that were willing to rat out those that they worked with to save their own skin. Sometimes they were allowed to live and continue whatever life that they would have left after betraying the gang that they had been with, while other times they were just killed after getting the answers that they needed. There were instances that they would make a deal with someone just to get them to talk, and sometimes it actually did work even if it was just for a little bit. Vagabond remembered an instance where they needed information badly from a gang that had been on their asses for the past month and were starting to get a little bit too close to comfort. They were a bigger gang than they were and thought that they could take over their territory without them putting up a fight. They would be wrong, and they would also end up underestimating them for the factor that they had an unusual amount of luck almost always on their side. He heard the cat cry out, and that didn't seem to change the change of pace that he had going on. His paw was almost the size of the cat as he stood over her.

If he really wanted to, he could crush the animal just with simply putting enough weight on her chest. At least that's one of the things that he could do if he really wanted to. The Hellhound held a smirk spread across his jaws. "You must have some shit luck as you were the first one to come across me." Vagabond stated, almost trying to sound like he had fake pity for the female at the end of the way, which he didn't. His stark blue eyes looked at the knife that was coming out of her leg, and using his air elementals he wrenched the blade out of her leg and hovered it over the rest of the body. "Name's Vagabond. Sorry, it's nothing personal. Just business really." One could almost hear how cheeky the Hellhound was being. But at the same time, he had no idea what he was getting himself into by attacking a beloved member of this group. He looked at the back leg that he had impaled with the knife, only to raise one of his paws and aim to put all of his weight as he slammed it down onto her left leg, aiming to fracture the leg in half. If that worked, he would then aim to use the throwing knife, and using his air elementals carve a line across the length of the female's body. Not too deep to where it would scar, but just enough to where she would bleed from the wound.

Someone that fought back and wasn't capable of getting very far was always something interesting to watch. The Hellhound knew that there wasn't really anything that the feline would be able to do to him. At least with his knowledge just based on size alone rather than anything else. He had to admit that he was a little bit surprised to see how the other seemed to continue struggling against him. She was so much smaller, and if he was in her position he would probably be doing the same thing. Or fake the pain based on whatever was happening to him to let other's let their guard down. He had dealt with broken bones himself before, and he could just as easily scream in pain if enough was done to him. With the body he currently had, it was probably going to be fairly difficult to have his bones broken by anything really. And yet, she didn't scream, but there was no way that she was going to be able to get away now and he could do whatever the hell he wanted. The female was capable of talking, and that's exactly what she did. The canine listened to what he had to say and shrugged his shoulders. "Got nowhere else to go, and it's good for business for me to stick around." The Hellhound stated, and this was also for her relay to everyone else. He needed to let others know that he would be sticking in the area, and if they wanted to try and kill him even then, it would just provide more business to him. The more attention they gave him, the better.

Then the domestic cat launched herself at him. It was slow enough for the factor that she had one leg that wasn't working properly. Pity spread across his face as he simply raised one of his arms and felt the other's claws dig into his fur but barely scratched him for that matter. While she was attached to his arm, he would swing his arm slightly and aim to throw her across the sand. She would most definitely have clumps of black fur in between her claws. "You definitely have a lot of fight left in ya." The canine stated calmly, as he had to keep reminding himself that he wasn't going to try and kill her. Just injure and get the message out, that was his job. One of his throwing knives detached itself from its sash and hovered in the air as he neared the female again if she was thrown across the ground. If she was on the ground, the canine would aim to roll her over onto her back and aim to sink his claws into her stomach. Not deep enough to cause serious injuries, but still make her bleed. It was there that Vagabond started doing something that even he didn't know what was capable of. His mental manipulation aimed to latch onto the female's mind, and without touching anything else, he aimed to make Finnloch FEAR the very sight of him, the very thought of him around. Vagabond had no idea what he was actually doing, as the power activated itself on its own.

(Don't worry friend its not! Any character is allowed to go up against a power in some way or another ^.^)


Fighters could prove to be entertaining on a good day. There were other days though that if he wanted to get a job done quickly and move on, those that were fighting against him would prove to just piss him off. Finnloch was probably lucky that he was just here to advertise and currently didn't have any intention of trying to kill her. That didn't mean it couldn't change though thanks to his unpredictable nature. It had already happened once before, where he believed that he was going to just torture someone, before deciding that it might not be the best idea and still killed the one that he was attacking. Vagabond had no idea about how this world worked, and actually had no clue that these creatures would be able to track him down simply by scent alone. He planned on visiting every group that was around the area to get a feel for what his business would be like with others too. The Hellhound had nothing but time now, as he wasn't hired by anyone to do a job, and he wasn't trying to make some sort of quota or pay someone off from killing him. If anything, this was the best time for him to start a business when he had no idea what do with his life right now. He couldn't just wash away all the crimes that he had done in the past and he knew deep down that there was no redemption for him. There was no saving him from what he was. The other's words didn't make much sense to the Hellhound at first until the gears inside of his head worked. Oh, so that was her last name. Did cat's have last names? That was kind of weird. Although, he was used to hearing animals having names such as Max, Butterscotch, etc. The other was willing to fight for the death. He probably would have said something different if he was going to try to kill her, but this wasn't the case.

"Saying something like that is a good way to end your life quicker." Threats like that wouldn't work with the gangs that he used to deal with. If she had said that and if she was a human, she probably would have gotten her throat slit right then and there. When Vagabond spoke, the Hellhound wore a smirk on his face that wasn't visible. Maybe he was playing with his victim a little bit too much. But one couldn't blame him when he hadn't had anything to do in the past three days he had been in this world. Vagabond thought that eventually, the cat would realize that she was outmatched, but this wasn't the case. He wondered if the cat knew that he planned on keeping her alive because from the looks of it no one was coming to her rescue. Vagabond felt as the flesh in between his paws were ripped slightly, causing a small growl of annoyance to escape his jaws. That was going to hurt like a bitch! He could only imagine what it would feel like going back to the Rosebloods and getting sand in the damn wound. He pressed down slightly harder, aiming to open the wound that he had created on her stomach. Since the Hellhound had no idea that he had been using mental manipulation in the first place, nothing seemed to change all that much and he continued what he was doing. "Alright, time to wrap this up." Vagabond stated as he removed his paw from the female's stomach, and aimed to roll her onto her stomach instead. If that worked, he would aim to press one of his massive paws on the back of her head and shove her to the ground so that it would be harder for her to move. Raising one of the throwing knives, Vagabond lowered it to the female's left shoulder, aiming to carve a minimalistic symbol of a human skull. He was starting to lose patience the longer this went on for. The Hellhound would then draw his blade away and aim to gently kick the female away from him with a low huff escaping his jaws. "Thanks for the company." The former human said in a sarcastic manner, and it was there that the Roseblood member would leave the scene. The scent of Roseblood was slightly faint out of consideration that he had only been in the place for around 30 minutes in total before eventually leaving.

/out and now open!

(List of Finnloch's injuries: A cut along the left side of her body, a broken back leg, couple of scrapes, deep claw marks on her stomach, then a human skull marking carved into her shoulder with a knife)