05-14-2018, 11:28 PM
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[shadow=darkblue,right]KILLUA[/shadow]
.
(I'm screaming this is so wholesome thank you array)
His claws were unique as they were deadly. He couldn't remember the last time that he had actually used claws that were made for him. It was a strange though but it was a realistic thought that he gave himself. Killua had metal claws for as long s he could remember, and he even remembered the first procedure he got to have them implanted into his paws. It wasn't something that was all that easy considering that he had been awake during it and he was barely the age of an apprentice once the procedure was done. It was for the better good, is what his family ended up telling him while they were cutting into his flesh to make sure that everything was going to be working properly. At least he was allowed to have one day off where he didn't have to do anything because if he did the claws would probably end up falling out of their sheathes quite easily. The assassin knew better than to ruin the work that his family went through because if he did he would probably be punished for it in the end. Once the scars healed over and that his family thought he was ready, he was allowed to start using his claws. His claws were also unique in the fact that they weren't as curved as a regular feline's claws. Instead, they were more pointed forward, almost like that of a canine. This meant that he would be able to make stabbing movements with his arms instead of worried about latching onto something and taking it down. His claws were usually long enough that if he was going at a certain speed he would be more than capable of reaching the artery in someone's throat. He didn't have the strength right now to go snapping necks in between his teeth, as most of the creatures he had gone up against in this group of clans were larger than he was. Which he was fine with because he wasn't worried about something that was larger than him. His dad was a dragon after all, and this meant larger species of animals didn't really put him in a panic. He had taken down dragons and other large beasts in his lifetime. However, the claws that he had now weren't the original claws that his parents had gotten him when he was much younger. Instead, they were newer claws that he had to purchase for himself out of regard that his oldest brother ended up ripping out his old claws from his paws, which had been one of the more painful attacks that his older brother had ever done on him before. He would never think that he would take the claws that had been through him and made him basically who he was.
One could say that he was being ridiculous for getting attached to his claws, but he did because his claws were a part of him. So when his brother ripped away those claws, it felt like his brother was taking something else with him, as well as taking the confidence he had once had when he thought that he would be capable of taking on his older brother. How naive he was, and his brother made sure that he would never forget exactly how weak he was. Once he had healed enough, he had to find someone that was willing to make him new claws based on his specifications and then be capable of attaching said claws to the tendons that were in his paws. It was a long and horrible surgery, but in the end, he got the claws he had now. They weren't as good as the claws that his family had made him, but they were good enough to get the job done and they were just as sharp. Since they weren't like regular claws, it meant that eventually, he would have to buy another set as the metal was bound to wear itself down whether he liked it or not. Although right now he wasn't using his claws for much except for climbing and obviously ripping into his own flesh, that was by accident. He knew that he was dangerous not only to others but to himself when it came to his night terrors. Part of him didn't do anything to protect himself when it did come to his night terrors, as he knew that the likelihood of him killing himself was pretty slim. After the most recent incident though, he wasn't so sure about that anymore as he nearly carved his own throat out by accident. It was a stark reminder that he could still be injured despite how high he constantly held himself. The injuries he had given himself wouldn't be able to heal for a good amount of time, and that's what frustrated him the most. He just wanted to be through with all the bandages as he knew that it would just gain him more strange looks as other's took his condition into consideration. They would look at him with pity and judge him for being weak. Hell, the only ones that had managed to injure him in the clans since he had joined them had been himself or his brother. Clanners barely had the chance to touch the likes of him when it came to a fight. Killua wasn't about to let that change, but right now he was in somewhat of a good mood. Once he was fully healed, it meant that he would be able to start training again, and probably ask Argus as well to help him train. He still didn't trust the Typhoon member but she said that she had a method of making him better, and it was going to be a win-win situation for him anyway so he might as well try. He couldn't train his elemental powers with his current injuries because he would just end up killing the new tissues that were forming over the wounds that he had created. Which would only slow his healing process anymore.
So, he was stuck with having to wait for himself to fully recover, every couple of days stopping himself so that he could stitch more of the wound closed on his right arm. Something he was now capable of doing thanks to the fact that his paws weren't covered in blood now. Trying to find Killua though, in general, was definitely a task in itself. Killua made sure that it was difficult for really anyone to find him. The assassin didn't want to be found half the time anyway, and if he did he would have turned his air elementals off in order to stop it. The young male was walking around in the snow with a lollipop in his mouth, having already made his rounds. He was debating whether or not he should go to the Ascendants and pay them another visit again. It was almost two months since he last interacted with the group. Killua wasn't really in his cave all that often unless he absolutely had nothing to do or had to feed Koru when he got back to the cave. There were still blood stains on the floor that he hadn't bothered to clean. He blinked his sapphire blue eyes as he turned to look up at a branch above him, crouching down before leaping onto the branch. He didn't flinch as he felt the stitches underneath his bandages tighten as he put a strain on them. If the stitches came loose he could easily replace them. The albino serval was leaping from branch to branch toward Snowbound camp when he heard a familiar voice that nearly made him fall off the branch that he had landed on. London was looking for him? There didn't seem to be any sound of concern in her voice from what he could hear, so he doubted it was an emergency. The silent wildcat made a path through the trees until he was on a branch a little bit off to the side where London was standing. With a box. Oh? Did she find something that she wanted to share with him? The assassin had never really been given a gift before. Although, he had been given plenty of foods in the past so he guessed that didn't really end up counting. Killua let himself fall from the branch that he was on, landing silently on the ground. His eyes flickered over toward Natasha and Stark that were sitting on the side. Why was there an audience? Killua became slightly nervous but snuffed the emotion away when he turned to look up at London, a grin spread across his jaws. "Yo London. What's up?" The Snowstriker would ask casually as he tilted his head. He doubted his sudden appearance in front of her would surprise her, as it never really surprised her all that much before. "What's the box for?" Killua finally asked curiously. At this moment when he became curious, he seemed to act like a regular kid despite the way that he had been raised. His ears weren't necessarily angled toward London waiting for her response and instead angled themselves toward the slowly growing crowd.
His claws were unique as they were deadly. He couldn't remember the last time that he had actually used claws that were made for him. It was a strange though but it was a realistic thought that he gave himself. Killua had metal claws for as long s he could remember, and he even remembered the first procedure he got to have them implanted into his paws. It wasn't something that was all that easy considering that he had been awake during it and he was barely the age of an apprentice once the procedure was done. It was for the better good, is what his family ended up telling him while they were cutting into his flesh to make sure that everything was going to be working properly. At least he was allowed to have one day off where he didn't have to do anything because if he did the claws would probably end up falling out of their sheathes quite easily. The assassin knew better than to ruin the work that his family went through because if he did he would probably be punished for it in the end. Once the scars healed over and that his family thought he was ready, he was allowed to start using his claws. His claws were also unique in the fact that they weren't as curved as a regular feline's claws. Instead, they were more pointed forward, almost like that of a canine. This meant that he would be able to make stabbing movements with his arms instead of worried about latching onto something and taking it down. His claws were usually long enough that if he was going at a certain speed he would be more than capable of reaching the artery in someone's throat. He didn't have the strength right now to go snapping necks in between his teeth, as most of the creatures he had gone up against in this group of clans were larger than he was. Which he was fine with because he wasn't worried about something that was larger than him. His dad was a dragon after all, and this meant larger species of animals didn't really put him in a panic. He had taken down dragons and other large beasts in his lifetime. However, the claws that he had now weren't the original claws that his parents had gotten him when he was much younger. Instead, they were newer claws that he had to purchase for himself out of regard that his oldest brother ended up ripping out his old claws from his paws, which had been one of the more painful attacks that his older brother had ever done on him before. He would never think that he would take the claws that had been through him and made him basically who he was.
One could say that he was being ridiculous for getting attached to his claws, but he did because his claws were a part of him. So when his brother ripped away those claws, it felt like his brother was taking something else with him, as well as taking the confidence he had once had when he thought that he would be capable of taking on his older brother. How naive he was, and his brother made sure that he would never forget exactly how weak he was. Once he had healed enough, he had to find someone that was willing to make him new claws based on his specifications and then be capable of attaching said claws to the tendons that were in his paws. It was a long and horrible surgery, but in the end, he got the claws he had now. They weren't as good as the claws that his family had made him, but they were good enough to get the job done and they were just as sharp. Since they weren't like regular claws, it meant that eventually, he would have to buy another set as the metal was bound to wear itself down whether he liked it or not. Although right now he wasn't using his claws for much except for climbing and obviously ripping into his own flesh, that was by accident. He knew that he was dangerous not only to others but to himself when it came to his night terrors. Part of him didn't do anything to protect himself when it did come to his night terrors, as he knew that the likelihood of him killing himself was pretty slim. After the most recent incident though, he wasn't so sure about that anymore as he nearly carved his own throat out by accident. It was a stark reminder that he could still be injured despite how high he constantly held himself. The injuries he had given himself wouldn't be able to heal for a good amount of time, and that's what frustrated him the most. He just wanted to be through with all the bandages as he knew that it would just gain him more strange looks as other's took his condition into consideration. They would look at him with pity and judge him for being weak. Hell, the only ones that had managed to injure him in the clans since he had joined them had been himself or his brother. Clanners barely had the chance to touch the likes of him when it came to a fight. Killua wasn't about to let that change, but right now he was in somewhat of a good mood. Once he was fully healed, it meant that he would be able to start training again, and probably ask Argus as well to help him train. He still didn't trust the Typhoon member but she said that she had a method of making him better, and it was going to be a win-win situation for him anyway so he might as well try. He couldn't train his elemental powers with his current injuries because he would just end up killing the new tissues that were forming over the wounds that he had created. Which would only slow his healing process anymore.
So, he was stuck with having to wait for himself to fully recover, every couple of days stopping himself so that he could stitch more of the wound closed on his right arm. Something he was now capable of doing thanks to the fact that his paws weren't covered in blood now. Trying to find Killua though, in general, was definitely a task in itself. Killua made sure that it was difficult for really anyone to find him. The assassin didn't want to be found half the time anyway, and if he did he would have turned his air elementals off in order to stop it. The young male was walking around in the snow with a lollipop in his mouth, having already made his rounds. He was debating whether or not he should go to the Ascendants and pay them another visit again. It was almost two months since he last interacted with the group. Killua wasn't really in his cave all that often unless he absolutely had nothing to do or had to feed Koru when he got back to the cave. There were still blood stains on the floor that he hadn't bothered to clean. He blinked his sapphire blue eyes as he turned to look up at a branch above him, crouching down before leaping onto the branch. He didn't flinch as he felt the stitches underneath his bandages tighten as he put a strain on them. If the stitches came loose he could easily replace them. The albino serval was leaping from branch to branch toward Snowbound camp when he heard a familiar voice that nearly made him fall off the branch that he had landed on. London was looking for him? There didn't seem to be any sound of concern in her voice from what he could hear, so he doubted it was an emergency. The silent wildcat made a path through the trees until he was on a branch a little bit off to the side where London was standing. With a box. Oh? Did she find something that she wanted to share with him? The assassin had never really been given a gift before. Although, he had been given plenty of foods in the past so he guessed that didn't really end up counting. Killua let himself fall from the branch that he was on, landing silently on the ground. His eyes flickered over toward Natasha and Stark that were sitting on the side. Why was there an audience? Killua became slightly nervous but snuffed the emotion away when he turned to look up at London, a grin spread across his jaws. "Yo London. What's up?" The Snowstriker would ask casually as he tilted his head. He doubted his sudden appearance in front of her would surprise her, as it never really surprised her all that much before. "What's the box for?" Killua finally asked curiously. At this moment when he became curious, he seemed to act like a regular kid despite the way that he had been raised. His ears weren't necessarily angled toward London waiting for her response and instead angled themselves toward the slowly growing crowd.
snowbound -- snowstriker -- male -- 8 moons
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Tags | Updated 03/26/17:
![[Image: dc6hpb7-713ad103-a18c-4eca-959a-6cb0bf60...6bROF-_N5s]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/4cfe5665-9d83-4faf-840b-0a0b273146ca/dc6hpb7-713ad103-a18c-4eca-959a-6cb0bf60e66d.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzRjZmU1NjY1LTlkODMtNGZhZi04NDBiLTBhMGIyNzMxNDZjYVwvZGM2aHBiNy03MTNhZDEwMy1hMThjLTRlY2EtOTU5YS02Y2IwYmY2MGU2NmQucG5nIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.Yi4cr43QhEm2vQrcp5vhK_31-3e5niRd86bROF-_N5s)
ASSASSINATION THE FAMILY TRADE
WE ALL TAKE IT UP
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albino serval | extreme difficulty | BIO