07-09-2018, 05:21 PM
[div style="width: 45%; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"]Irresolute pawsteps were heard just beyond where the group was gathered, signifying the exasperated demon's presence. After the explosive encounters he had undergone since announcing his joining the Ascendants, he had absolutely no desire to communicate with anyone aside from his conscience, but as it turns out his conscience was far more vile and venomous than any one of these angered citizens that he'd have to call groupmates. Alcohol would likely make things a whole lot worse—it was a massive reason for his deterring from the Ascendants, for he was essentially a dangerous beast when losing his grip on sobriety. That wasn't something he could ever risk anymore. This wasn't like his old homes where he could do just about anything he pleased and not have to worry about dire, permanent consequences. Here he had an image to uphold, but he already seemed to fuck that up anyway.
But Zjarr knew that he could not excuse himself from every social interaction that would occur here. If he wanted to be reclusive and a loner, he could've stayed a nomad doing fuck all. He couldn't stand that lifestyle for one second, crippling loneliness creeping in as the shadows of the night when the sun collapsed. His life seemed no different now from how it was before, but at least here he could make a difference, meet some new faces that hopefully did not consider him appalling and beastly. The keyword was hopefully.
The cyborg wolf would start with...whoever this hybrid-looking member was, munching on coffee beans like they were a little treat. The action seemed disgusting, and he couldn't imagine feeling any pleasure doing that, but to each their own, eh? If he was going to make friends, or at the very least some acquaintances, he couldn't judge every person that stepped on the same path he was walking on. "Hey there. Don't think we've met," the canine remarked lamely, clearly unsure of how to ignite this new and fresh interaction. He was shit at talking to people and comforting them and whatever the hell, but he much preferred being with someone else than being by himself, wallowing in his own filth. "I-I'm Zjarr."
But Zjarr knew that he could not excuse himself from every social interaction that would occur here. If he wanted to be reclusive and a loner, he could've stayed a nomad doing fuck all. He couldn't stand that lifestyle for one second, crippling loneliness creeping in as the shadows of the night when the sun collapsed. His life seemed no different now from how it was before, but at least here he could make a difference, meet some new faces that hopefully did not consider him appalling and beastly. The keyword was hopefully.
The cyborg wolf would start with...whoever this hybrid-looking member was, munching on coffee beans like they were a little treat. The action seemed disgusting, and he couldn't imagine feeling any pleasure doing that, but to each their own, eh? If he was going to make friends, or at the very least some acquaintances, he couldn't judge every person that stepped on the same path he was walking on. "Hey there. Don't think we've met," the canine remarked lamely, clearly unsure of how to ignite this new and fresh interaction. He was shit at talking to people and comforting them and whatever the hell, but he much preferred being with someone else than being by himself, wallowing in his own filth. "I-I'm Zjarr."
[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