storm of blood / joining

[Zjarr]

[div style="width: 48%; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"]One would expect the demon to be selfish, to want to exist as long as he could possibly permit it, but the case was far from what it seemed. He could spit in the face of death, aggravate it and taunt it like some snarling beast secured by chains, yet he held utmost respect for it, and he knew that he could not run for much longer. Even those once deemed immortal would meet their end. He could recall this from recent experiences, even within the Ascendants' domain.

As such he could not fear the reapers of each realm, mortal or not, in spite of any disguises they may bear. This did not mean he didn't have his suspicions, but for now he would suppress them in the face of a newcomer—two newcomers, it seemed, as the cyborg wolf began to approach them tentatively.

He figured that the female was merely a joiner or some traveler, and the little dragon a sort of companion, and thus he didn't pay much thought to it. "Er, 'ey, ya need somethin'?" the canine inquired the feline as he sauntered his way over. "I'm Zjarr, by the way." These Ascendants folk had a thing for making introductions to strangers right off the bat, a custom he assumed he should get a hang of.

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