08-30-2018, 08:30 PM
[div style="width: 48%; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px;"]And yet another was to fall within the realm of the Ascendants. Only this time, in the place of some sort of joint peaceful demise, it was a quite brutal slaughter. A classic tale of small-town murder.
Roy Mustang, huh? Well, that was just a goddamn pity, but in this case there was little emotion that exuded from the demon. Yet his form was still forlorn, still weary, still cold and almost lifeless as he made his way over upon hearing Thea's panicked screams. Three deaths in one week, eh? Damn, that was likely a new record for any group he had ever been in. First Suiteheart, then Margaery, and now Roy. And though he couldn't bring himself to muster the slightest emotion, there was something brewing within him: a trace of worry, perhaps mingled with a mere sliver of fear. He could never escape mindless slaughter, no matter where he would turn. It was strange, for a monster as his breed to be so put off by a gruesome death, but in this case everything felt so...off. This world felt so ripe, so pure, so much cleaner than any other place Zjarr had ever traveled to. And this Roy guy? Well, he seemed like a decent fellow, maybe an honest guy. Who would have a bone to pick with him?
Well, it seemed as if there was a bit of evidence pointing as to who killed the unlucky old sap. The wolf stepped forward and gingerly leaned over to pluck his metal claws at fine traces of fur that were deposited close to Roy's bloodied and battered corpse. Good thing my DNA won't be on this. Heh, maybe I could be an ol' detective with this body...or an assassin. Maybe. Worthless rambles aside, the observer brought the fur closer to his hues, squinting to get a better view. Chestnut and cream fur, though the texture of it was difficult to make out, what with his forelimbs being mere prosthetics and all.
Carefully Zjarr would hover over Imperia so not as to disrupt her attempts, his unnaturally heterochromatic hues fixated upon the throat wound. "I saw something his s-size run," said Thea. And judging by the claw marks, that seemed to certainly be a case. "So we're lookin' at a cat with chestnut 'n' cream fur," the canine remarked, leaning back and switching his gaze to the shaken-up leopard. "Y'said you saw the perpetrator take off? Well, there might be some scent trails, in that case. Eh, do ya remember which direction that might be, Thea?" The thick stench of blood and death overpowered just about any other scent out there, thus making it a tad difficult for him to pick up anything now. But if Thea gave him a place to start, maybe he could get a little closer. He was not a medic, and he was not particularly close to Roy. As such, he could keep himself on the ground, looking for any clues to find the bloodthirsty fuck who claimed the bobcat's life for their own. Bringing the guy some justice was the least he could do.
Roy Mustang, huh? Well, that was just a goddamn pity, but in this case there was little emotion that exuded from the demon. Yet his form was still forlorn, still weary, still cold and almost lifeless as he made his way over upon hearing Thea's panicked screams. Three deaths in one week, eh? Damn, that was likely a new record for any group he had ever been in. First Suiteheart, then Margaery, and now Roy. And though he couldn't bring himself to muster the slightest emotion, there was something brewing within him: a trace of worry, perhaps mingled with a mere sliver of fear. He could never escape mindless slaughter, no matter where he would turn. It was strange, for a monster as his breed to be so put off by a gruesome death, but in this case everything felt so...off. This world felt so ripe, so pure, so much cleaner than any other place Zjarr had ever traveled to. And this Roy guy? Well, he seemed like a decent fellow, maybe an honest guy. Who would have a bone to pick with him?
Well, it seemed as if there was a bit of evidence pointing as to who killed the unlucky old sap. The wolf stepped forward and gingerly leaned over to pluck his metal claws at fine traces of fur that were deposited close to Roy's bloodied and battered corpse. Good thing my DNA won't be on this. Heh, maybe I could be an ol' detective with this body...or an assassin. Maybe. Worthless rambles aside, the observer brought the fur closer to his hues, squinting to get a better view. Chestnut and cream fur, though the texture of it was difficult to make out, what with his forelimbs being mere prosthetics and all.
Carefully Zjarr would hover over Imperia so not as to disrupt her attempts, his unnaturally heterochromatic hues fixated upon the throat wound. "I saw something his s-size run," said Thea. And judging by the claw marks, that seemed to certainly be a case. "So we're lookin' at a cat with chestnut 'n' cream fur," the canine remarked, leaning back and switching his gaze to the shaken-up leopard. "Y'said you saw the perpetrator take off? Well, there might be some scent trails, in that case. Eh, do ya remember which direction that might be, Thea?" The thick stench of blood and death overpowered just about any other scent out there, thus making it a tad difficult for him to pick up anything now. But if Thea gave him a place to start, maybe he could get a little closer. He was not a medic, and he was not particularly close to Roy. As such, he could keep himself on the ground, looking for any clues to find the bloodthirsty fuck who claimed the bobcat's life for their own. Bringing the guy some justice was the least he could do.
[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