08-26-2018, 07:35 PM
[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 55%; line-height:115%; text-align: justify;font-family: calibri;"]He, too, had never had much of a choice in terms of where life took him. It had been a wild ride from start to finish, and it was only in the later parts of his life that Des managed to grasp at some semblance of control... if he could call it that. It was only occasionally that he could control himself against what others, namely his brother, thought he was meant to be. A murderer. A killer. The very chaos that the void was entitled to be. He fought against it, though, as much as he feasibly could... only to have it all fall apart when he could do little to curb the hatred that festered underneath his own skin at everything and everyone that had ever hurt him. He had killed those who deserved it, yes... but that was less than half of the faces he saw in his nightmares.
It was hard to tell friend from foe when the world had turned you into a killer.
He had seen his fair share of strange things in the clans already, from hybrids to overgrown lizards... but it was his first time looking at someone like Sparrow. He tried not to gawk, politely staring at his eyes instead, and the smile didn't slip off of his lips. His own body told of stories, each scar representing something or the other that had almost left him dead... but he seemed to have an entirely different story to tell, one that Des wasn't sure he was prepared to even begun unveiling.
If his own personality was anything to go by, he doubted he'd care much for explaining each scar to begin with.
A thoughtful hum left his jaws with the canine's words, allowing him to focus less on the injuries the man had and more on the situation at hand, and with a roll of his shoulders to ease some of the tension out Des took the stick out and killed it under his paw, respectful enough to know when to curb his own vices in the presence of others... especially children. Just because he'd get cancer didn't mean others had to. "Yeah, I know. Tried to get rid of the stench as much as I could but... it sticks to you," he replied, grin still present but quirking slightly, obviously strained despite how easy going it seemed. The smell wasn't one he'd be forgetting soon... death and destruction seemed to be second nature to those in the Pitt, and even though his other version thrived in it... now that he had regained control of his head he didn't want any part of it.
Before he could respond to the canine's question with the same words of 'Desperado, joining' that seemed to echo from him every so often, two new faces appeared, their own words echoing in his ears. He blinked at Persephone's words, quietly mulling them over before choosing to respond.
"Ah... pardon, m' not used to this body I'm afraid," he offered quietly, his grin easing into something softer as the lion shifted from side to side, trying to make himself smaller for the sake of those beneath his size. He had only recently come back as this form, formerly used to the canine body that he inhabited which didn't dwarf as many people as this one did... the scars remained despite that, though, it seemed. Not that he minded; it was a good reminder of what he had done.
"Promise I don't mean you no harm, though. I'd change back if I could but I'm afraid that body is... gone." He would not miss it much, though. It didn't have memories good enough to cling to. He was only sorry that it was far less intimidating than this one was... he didn't bother flaunting his powers around, preferring to keep any part of himself that could give rise to the demon once more under lock and key. The power rarely got to his head, though, and thankfully he felt calmer than he had merely a few days ago... but still. It would be better if he had come back as a ferret or something, where if things got out of hand all anyone else would have to do was step on him to get rid of the problem.
"Anyways... Desperado, here to join. Nothing too interesting really, sorry about that," so far no one was questioning him much, something he hadn't expected... and although it came as a relief, something inside of Des itched to explain himself, to say he had changed, moreso to convince himself than anyone else. He had claimed that more than once, however, only to relapse into something he couldn't control if he tried... just how many more times could he say the same before he never came back, and who he was meant to be according to legacy would replace who he hoped to be forever?
He suddenly itched for the cigarette again, glancing at it remorsefully where it lay pitifully on the ground, but instead of reaching for a new one he instead turned to twitching his ear almost rapid fire, hoping the stimulation would be enough for the time being until he could go somewhere private to indulge in the calming activity somewhere where he would not hurt others by it.
// heck,,, thank
It was hard to tell friend from foe when the world had turned you into a killer.
He had seen his fair share of strange things in the clans already, from hybrids to overgrown lizards... but it was his first time looking at someone like Sparrow. He tried not to gawk, politely staring at his eyes instead, and the smile didn't slip off of his lips. His own body told of stories, each scar representing something or the other that had almost left him dead... but he seemed to have an entirely different story to tell, one that Des wasn't sure he was prepared to even begun unveiling.
If his own personality was anything to go by, he doubted he'd care much for explaining each scar to begin with.
A thoughtful hum left his jaws with the canine's words, allowing him to focus less on the injuries the man had and more on the situation at hand, and with a roll of his shoulders to ease some of the tension out Des took the stick out and killed it under his paw, respectful enough to know when to curb his own vices in the presence of others... especially children. Just because he'd get cancer didn't mean others had to. "Yeah, I know. Tried to get rid of the stench as much as I could but... it sticks to you," he replied, grin still present but quirking slightly, obviously strained despite how easy going it seemed. The smell wasn't one he'd be forgetting soon... death and destruction seemed to be second nature to those in the Pitt, and even though his other version thrived in it... now that he had regained control of his head he didn't want any part of it.
Before he could respond to the canine's question with the same words of 'Desperado, joining' that seemed to echo from him every so often, two new faces appeared, their own words echoing in his ears. He blinked at Persephone's words, quietly mulling them over before choosing to respond.
"Ah... pardon, m' not used to this body I'm afraid," he offered quietly, his grin easing into something softer as the lion shifted from side to side, trying to make himself smaller for the sake of those beneath his size. He had only recently come back as this form, formerly used to the canine body that he inhabited which didn't dwarf as many people as this one did... the scars remained despite that, though, it seemed. Not that he minded; it was a good reminder of what he had done.
"Promise I don't mean you no harm, though. I'd change back if I could but I'm afraid that body is... gone." He would not miss it much, though. It didn't have memories good enough to cling to. He was only sorry that it was far less intimidating than this one was... he didn't bother flaunting his powers around, preferring to keep any part of himself that could give rise to the demon once more under lock and key. The power rarely got to his head, though, and thankfully he felt calmer than he had merely a few days ago... but still. It would be better if he had come back as a ferret or something, where if things got out of hand all anyone else would have to do was step on him to get rid of the problem.
"Anyways... Desperado, here to join. Nothing too interesting really, sorry about that," so far no one was questioning him much, something he hadn't expected... and although it came as a relief, something inside of Des itched to explain himself, to say he had changed, moreso to convince himself than anyone else. He had claimed that more than once, however, only to relapse into something he couldn't control if he tried... just how many more times could he say the same before he never came back, and who he was meant to be according to legacy would replace who he hoped to be forever?
He suddenly itched for the cigarette again, glancing at it remorsefully where it lay pitifully on the ground, but instead of reaching for a new one he instead turned to twitching his ear almost rapid fire, hoping the stimulation would be enough for the time being until he could go somewhere private to indulge in the calming activity somewhere where he would not hurt others by it.
// heck,,, thank
♔ — I want brimstone in my garden