07-08-2018, 10:09 PM
[div style="width: 45%; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"]//human ref is essentially pfp but with brown eyes
When he stirred and felt all of his face and his back and his forelegs, he knew something had gone awry somewhere. Perhaps he had shifted to some other natural form in his slumber—not exactly an event he was unfamiliar with. But his body was no longer warm and soft, and he felt ever so exposed to the elements. Where was his fur? His eyelids flickered open to discover not forelegs arms; real, elongated, somewhat pale arms. There was not a spot of fur on him: no, nothing but some natural body hair and a relatively short-cut, amusingly well-groomed head of reddish-brown, paired by a short beard of a lighter color. Rising to his full height, he took note of his build and size. He was quite tall, though not tree-like, and unlike his mesomorphic feral bodies, he as a human was lithe and almost lanky, though bearing a bit of muscle. And judging by the horrified screams and amused, hysterical laughter beyond his quarters, Zjarr could tell that it wasn't just him impacted by...whatever had caused his spontaneous transformation.
He wasn't very shocked at all—no, this had happened many times before in the Thunderlands, and he figured that maybe along the way of him being a demon he had adopted a bipedal form like this one, one he had long forgotten about. All he could do was ride it out and hopefully help in keeping everyone else calm and composed until they got to the bottom of this hilarious mess. Quickly he had taken to picking up the human-sized clothing that lay on the floor of his quarters, covering himself up with a plain white t-shirt, a pair of jeans matched with a brown belt, and some old sneakers before stepping outside with a soft huff. Oh boy, here we go.
Briefly scratching at his chin, the almost impassive man scanned his surroundings, only concerned with his daughter at the moment. He was fine with being a two-legged fella, but what about Pele? His brown hues finally locked onto the light-haired girl, a face that would light up the darkest abyss at any time. He would smile if she would not appear so dazed and confused and almost terrified, which brought upmost alarm to the demon. He took note of a pale, cape-wearing guy trying to catch his daughter in his arms, and his lips pursed together tightly. This was what he had missed. Being overprotective of a child. But he wouldn't start screaming "OHFUCKOFFYOUTOUCHYSON-OF-A-BITCH" and "GETTHEFUCKAWAYFROMMYDAUGHTER" just yet—if anything, the other guy was just trying to assist her. Still he wouldn't pay any more mind to him as Zjarr rapidly rushed over to the demoness.
"Pele? Pele! Don't ya worry now, I'm here, it's alright," he murmured as he attempted to gently grab hold of the girl in an attempt to soothe her and hopefully get her stable. Briefly he would turn in Roy's direction to stammer, "Uh, i-it's Zjarr." It felt almost awkward in a way, to reach out like that after being absent in her life for so long. Did she trust him? Did she even like or respect him? Did she consider him her father? He didn't come back to the Ascendants because he felt that he had to. He came back because it was sheer instinct for him to protect his family, no matter what. Even if he hadn't seen her in such a long time, he was willing to devote his attention and life wholly to his kin now.
"C'mon now, just sit down here, Pele. Deep breaths. You're fine, you're fine. I-It's okay..." God, he was so shit at reassurance and he knew it. But he was anxious, incredibly concerned, and his wide brown eyes expressed it almost perfectly.
When he stirred and felt all of his face and his back and his forelegs, he knew something had gone awry somewhere. Perhaps he had shifted to some other natural form in his slumber—not exactly an event he was unfamiliar with. But his body was no longer warm and soft, and he felt ever so exposed to the elements. Where was his fur? His eyelids flickered open to discover not forelegs arms; real, elongated, somewhat pale arms. There was not a spot of fur on him: no, nothing but some natural body hair and a relatively short-cut, amusingly well-groomed head of reddish-brown, paired by a short beard of a lighter color. Rising to his full height, he took note of his build and size. He was quite tall, though not tree-like, and unlike his mesomorphic feral bodies, he as a human was lithe and almost lanky, though bearing a bit of muscle. And judging by the horrified screams and amused, hysterical laughter beyond his quarters, Zjarr could tell that it wasn't just him impacted by...whatever had caused his spontaneous transformation.
He wasn't very shocked at all—no, this had happened many times before in the Thunderlands, and he figured that maybe along the way of him being a demon he had adopted a bipedal form like this one, one he had long forgotten about. All he could do was ride it out and hopefully help in keeping everyone else calm and composed until they got to the bottom of this hilarious mess. Quickly he had taken to picking up the human-sized clothing that lay on the floor of his quarters, covering himself up with a plain white t-shirt, a pair of jeans matched with a brown belt, and some old sneakers before stepping outside with a soft huff. Oh boy, here we go.
Briefly scratching at his chin, the almost impassive man scanned his surroundings, only concerned with his daughter at the moment. He was fine with being a two-legged fella, but what about Pele? His brown hues finally locked onto the light-haired girl, a face that would light up the darkest abyss at any time. He would smile if she would not appear so dazed and confused and almost terrified, which brought upmost alarm to the demon. He took note of a pale, cape-wearing guy trying to catch his daughter in his arms, and his lips pursed together tightly. This was what he had missed. Being overprotective of a child. But he wouldn't start screaming "OHFUCKOFFYOUTOUCHYSON-OF-A-BITCH" and "GETTHEFUCKAWAYFROMMYDAUGHTER" just yet—if anything, the other guy was just trying to assist her. Still he wouldn't pay any more mind to him as Zjarr rapidly rushed over to the demoness.
"Pele? Pele! Don't ya worry now, I'm here, it's alright," he murmured as he attempted to gently grab hold of the girl in an attempt to soothe her and hopefully get her stable. Briefly he would turn in Roy's direction to stammer, "Uh, i-it's Zjarr." It felt almost awkward in a way, to reach out like that after being absent in her life for so long. Did she trust him? Did she even like or respect him? Did she consider him her father? He didn't come back to the Ascendants because he felt that he had to. He came back because it was sheer instinct for him to protect his family, no matter what. Even if he hadn't seen her in such a long time, he was willing to devote his attention and life wholly to his kin now.
"C'mon now, just sit down here, Pele. Deep breaths. You're fine, you're fine. I-It's okay..." God, he was so shit at reassurance and he knew it. But he was anxious, incredibly concerned, and his wide brown eyes expressed it almost perfectly.
[glow=#f24b00,2,300]how'd it get so scandalous?[/glow] — ☼
✰ — I'M JUST A SOUL WHOSE INTENTIONS ARE GOOD
zjarr ignibus / tanglewood / hellcat / weapons dealer / plot