expensive mistakes — p

[PINCHER]

the devil's backbone

DENIZ "PINCHER" ROUX — MALE — THE TYPHOON — CAPTAIN — DOBERMAN

pinch honestly had no clue why he felt so tired. was it because he had stayed up all night, drunk off his ass and hollering songs at the brightly lit sky with some of his crewmates? perhaps. the male had stumbled back to the stranded submarine near the tempest, his solitary figure outlined by the pale silver moon's ray. there had been a lopsided goofy grin tracing his muzzle when he had been numbed from the pain that he felt everyday when he looked towards the sea. he would feel a sense of nausea every time he was near the ocean and could hear the waves crash and beat against the island's shores but at the same time he felt relief and peace. somewhere out there...was his son. somewhere in a dark abyss, sinking as only atoms that had been torn from him at such a young age. pincher supposed he should learn to grow the fuck up and move on, to allow the past to remain in the past. and that's what the male did. he would only focus on the present, on the given seconds and minutes that became hours in each day he managed to stay alive. but there was always that buried agony that crept into his mind when he was alone in his home. the dark canine had finally reached his quarters, stumbling in and slamming the door just. he would remain sitting in a slouched lazy position against the door before forcing himself to crawl into bed and allow sleep to drag him down.

it felt like only minutes but in reality, it was hours later that the sound of beats from knocking reached his large ears, the captain's hazy entrancing azure gaze flickering open, his tar black thin pupils focusing on the dark gray ceiling that hung above him. pincher let a small sigh to escape his aching jaws, warm breath tinted with last night's alcohol as the male heaved himself up from his bed. who the hell wanted to speak to him? last thing he wanted was to having a complaining idiot whine so to allow himself to have some tolerance and patience, the male scrambled around his messy home to finally find a pack of cigarettes. sinking his teeth on the end of the cigarette and allowing it to lazily hang from his lips, pincher turned to finally answer the door.

upon opening it, the towering male blinked twice in shock at realizing that it was a member of the voodoo house, specifically a female he had noticed but had never specifically spoken with. his eyes narrowed slightly as he let out a small groan, the brightness of the sun surprising him and triggering the small hungover headache that had begun. staring down at the warm colored hybrid, he raised a fictional eyebrow as he fixated his intense calculative gaze onto her as he grunted "the hell you wake me up for? did somethin' happen?" pincher's conversations usually circled around decisions and duties of leadership so he was expecting for someone to actually want to get to know who pinch was. the doberman briefly glanced around before deciding to press his broad scarred shoulder against the outline of the door, his odd eyes still trained onto amaranth. curiosity began to churn inside his head as he wondered what business she wanted with him.
"SPEECH"

#psychosocial.