08-20-2018, 02:49 PM
[div style="width: 45%; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"]Oh boy, a fight! And at a meeting! Zjarr couldn't say he was remotely shocked in the situation—the whole group banding together, sudden mass demotion. For some it would incite hysteria. For him, he found the decision to be reasonable. Some of the population mysteriously disappeared, some rejoined, some newcomers pledged their allegiance, all while a solid portion of the group was trapped inside the Observatory with the power out. It was chaotic, and to maintain a hierarchy with such changes would be a hassle given the circumstances. Perhaps mass demotion was the most suitable option. He was used to leaders doing the same. He was also used to his Clanmates loudly opposing controversial choices as such. But the demon himself? He didn't really give a fuck.
"Alright, alright, easy there, Jurassic Park," the cyborg drawled to the immense form of the spinosaurus. He usually wasn't one to intervene in such situations, but there was a throbbing headache sneaking up on him, and he'd rather not let some obnoxious, rowdy fuckers only make it worse. Maybe telling the dinosaur to pipe down was a shitty idea, but he figured that they both shared a goal of telling people to shut the fuck up and chill out. "Y'all fuckin' kiddin' me? Incitin' a fight the moment we step in? Look, the group's been separated. There was likely promising newcomers that were pilin' up outside'a the building. People that could fill the ranks. Now we gotta recover from the chaos, sensibly. And in the end, an Astral Seraph's your damn leader. If he says everyone's demoted and there's a good damn reason, his word's law, ain't it? And, what, ya can't earn your way back to your rank? You care about a fancy title more than anything else?"
Speaking of fancy titles, Bastille's mention of an ambassador position almost entirely redirected Zjarr's rambles. He had plenty of experience as an ambassador for his previous groups, and in each time he held the position, he found it to be refreshing and enjoyable. He learned about other factions, experienced different cultures, kept ties strong and made them even stronger. The task was...fun. Perhaps one of the most entertaining he had, next to, maybe, a deputy or a leader. Well...being a leader wasn't a fun time for him. If anything, he found it anxiety-inducing, and he thought he'd have a panic attack every damn minute when he was a dominant.
"That bein' said, if there's any spots left for an ambassador, consider me an option, will ya?" the cyborg wolf added with an amused chuckle. Yes, he knew he was juxtaposing his entire rant that spewed from his horrible maw earlier. And he found it humorous.
"Alright, alright, easy there, Jurassic Park," the cyborg drawled to the immense form of the spinosaurus. He usually wasn't one to intervene in such situations, but there was a throbbing headache sneaking up on him, and he'd rather not let some obnoxious, rowdy fuckers only make it worse. Maybe telling the dinosaur to pipe down was a shitty idea, but he figured that they both shared a goal of telling people to shut the fuck up and chill out. "Y'all fuckin' kiddin' me? Incitin' a fight the moment we step in? Look, the group's been separated. There was likely promising newcomers that were pilin' up outside'a the building. People that could fill the ranks. Now we gotta recover from the chaos, sensibly. And in the end, an Astral Seraph's your damn leader. If he says everyone's demoted and there's a good damn reason, his word's law, ain't it? And, what, ya can't earn your way back to your rank? You care about a fancy title more than anything else?"
Speaking of fancy titles, Bastille's mention of an ambassador position almost entirely redirected Zjarr's rambles. He had plenty of experience as an ambassador for his previous groups, and in each time he held the position, he found it to be refreshing and enjoyable. He learned about other factions, experienced different cultures, kept ties strong and made them even stronger. The task was...fun. Perhaps one of the most entertaining he had, next to, maybe, a deputy or a leader. Well...being a leader wasn't a fun time for him. If anything, he found it anxiety-inducing, and he thought he'd have a panic attack every damn minute when he was a dominant.
"That bein' said, if there's any spots left for an ambassador, consider me an option, will ya?" the cyborg wolf added with an amused chuckle. Yes, he knew he was juxtaposing his entire rant that spewed from his horrible maw earlier. And he found it humorous.
[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