SUMMER'S DAUGHTER :: open, joining

[Zjarr]

[div style="width: 45%; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"]Zjarr never really had parents in the sense. He was a demon, born from the shadows, after all. He had, once in a realm far away, a master named Jupiter, a "creator." And then there was the family of his physical self. His physical identity was, of course, stolen. Stolen from a housepet named Gelato, who would journey into the wilderness under the name Flamewhisker. And Flamey's family? Boy, what a fucking wreck. A mother that gave zero fucks, a father that spilled blood for his own sick pleasure, and two siblings that would turn the other way in the end. Once Metus was out of the picture, things seemed to escalate. The heat was on both Flamey and Zjarr, but they still marched onward, one being unaware of the other's presence. And then, eventually Flamey just kind of...got...consumed by Zjarr's soul, or lack thereof. Whoopsy-daisy. But that wasn't the point. The point was that he never really had a family. His children left him to wallow in his own despair, his lovers eventually dying. He was, in a sense, adopted by the Thunderlands, or ThunderClan at the time. Wildlife, Samuel, Frostbite, Olive, Ventus, Nagito, even Deutschland to an extent, he would consider a family. Nymeria, too, maybe, but it was gross to be infatuated with a family member. And if he was going to be honest with himself, he was so infatuated with her. Of course he was guilty about it, since she was married to his good friend Samuel for such a long time. In the end he found a loving friendship with her, and perhaps he was content with that. Even in the next realm he would hop to, he had an adorable adoptive daughter who he had dedicated his attention to, even in spite of the demands of being a leader.

Here? Here his own daughter spat in his fucking face and turned on her heels and left him there, in absolute shock.

"I...I-I do ca..." Zjarr's voice immediately faltered at the end, overcome by a wave of grief and awe. He didn't expect this to be an easy transition, but holy shit, it was painful. It struck him more than Nagito being slaughtered by Deathstroke, more than having every claw pulled from his feline body in the name of torture, more than learning that Wildlife and Samuel and Ventus and Frostbite all disappeared at some point, or would disappear in his time. His jaws remained hung, sustained in the air as his eyes widened, his whole body beginning to tremor.

You disgusting motherfucker. Did you expect anything else?

Zjarr could hardly process the events that had recently unfolded, but he found himself stumbling past Suite and all that had gathered, his surroundings fading into a frenzied blur as his breaths grew more shallow. You had your chance, you stupid son of a bitch. And you blew it. Look at you, you fucking dumbass. Go back to hell and burn, you ignorant, despicable, awful motherfucker. You call yourself a father? YOU CALL YOURSELF A FATHER?

The cyborg would rush off in another direction, marching off to whatever part of the territory he'd end up in eventually. He was too tired to drink, too shaken to sleep. And he most certainly did not seek to speak to any lil' shit that came in his way. Welcome to the motherfucking Ascendants.

[glow=#f24b00,2,300]how'd it get so scandalous?[/glow] — ☼