— tangled in the willows ; list writing

[kilgore]

[align=center][div style="width: 60%; height: auto; font-family: verdana; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify; line-height: 13px; border-bottom: 5px COLOR solid; padding-bottom: 5px; color: COLOR;"]Kilgore had been walkin' around like he always did, and it was just his luck that he'd overheard a peculiar conversation between an old slave and their younger peer.

"You get your Christmas list done yet?"
"Nah. I don't think Santa Claus is gonna reach us this year. We're so far out in the desert he won't be able to find us with one of those seeing-glasses and a microscope."
"You should, just in case. You never know. Santa Claus always brings gifts."

It was then that he'd gotten in his head that he'd do the same. Why not? If a slave could do it, so could he! Unfortunately, he hadn't a clue on how to write. He couldn't even read. Not like he saw the point in "de-ciph-er-ing" those silly lines at all, but how else was he gonna get what he wanted to Santie Claws? Grinding his teeth, the canine would look about himself, frustrated beyond relief. "Anyone one of ya know how to write an' stuff? 'Cause I got no clue."

[CAESAR CIPHER.]

THERE IS NO LIFE, THERE IS NO SPARK !

CAESAR CIPHER. MALE. THE PITT. DWELLER.

There was no Santa Claus. Caesar thought the whole idea and tradition was stupid, and he definitely wasn't afraid to say it to any of his clanmates' faces. "What do you need to write something for?" The savannah asked as he approached Kilgore, his dark-colored eyes narrowing at the young male.

#psychosocial.

[Stryker]

[div style="width: 60%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10.2pt; font-family: arial;"][align=center][img width=690]https://i.imgur.com/3KAkSGO.png[/img]

[glow=#000,2,300]☣ —[/glow] At the call of Kilgore, the ardent wandered over. He was more interested in providing commentary than actually helping with the task at hand, but it was something... "He's writing a love letter," he replied sarcastically towards Caeser with a delighted smile. The lies the children were fed were actually quite hilarious to the ardent. They were so delirious and optimistic in such a mystical gift-giving figure. He too believed in such a thing as a child. Finding out crushed him, but making others believe it became his goal from that moment on. Who didn't love manipulating children!?

kilgore is so cute

[kilgore]

[align=center][div style="width: 60%; height: auto; font-family: verdana; font-size: 8pt; text-align: justify; line-height: 13px; border-bottom: 5px COLOR solid; padding-bottom: 5px; color: COLOR;"]Kilgore would like to say that since his time in The Pitt he hadn't been treated too unkindly, at least nothing to complain about, but the tone of the cat that meandered on up to him kinda tickled him the wrong way and he made a face. "For Santie Claws, o'course." the larger animal would blink once, twice, turn away, and decide to wait for someone else to come up. He didn't think that writing lists would be much of a problem. Surely it wouldn't offend anyone that didn't need to be gettin' offended. Just on time, Stryker showed up, and at the sound of his voice Kilgore's ears perked and he turned back, the hairs on his pelt prickling with barely contained energy. "Oh man, aren't I glad to see you mister, d'ya think you could do me a little favor? Could you write me a list for Santie Claws? I don't mean to be awfully selfish or nuffin, I just want somethin' nice for this year."

[CAESAR CIPHER.]

THERE IS NO LIFE, THERE IS NO SPARK !

CAESAR CIPHER. MALE. THE PITT. DWELLER.

"'Santie Claws'?" Caesar echoed with a snort. "You believe in that bullshit?" He quickly yet on, though his voice was less than amused. Usually he might have joked about something, but this was a child he was talking to. "'Santie Claws' isn't real, kid."

#psychosocial.