11-05-2018, 06:27 PM
[align=center][div style="max-width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]Jailbird didn't do well letting things go, loved or otherwise- though he would say certain people hadn't hesitated to pull that shit on him. But he didn't like to touch on those issues, the same way he loathed releasing what he cared about. Unless it was a matter of his anger -which he would happily unleash any time- he held on with the white-knuckled, desperate grip of somebody about to fall sixty feet to their death in a pit of flames. In other words, he was very unlikely to let anything go, ever. Not that life often gave him the luxury of choice. If he could have chosen his lot, he would've gone with parents who wouldn't have ditched him to the grossly opportunistic paws of Cicero to spend the next two years of his life fighting in a hole in the ground for entertainment. Though he had, very recently, taken care of that grudge. Cicero had a bit of a fall. An entirely accidental slip off the edge, into this humid hellhole.
So to revise that, Jailbird could let go fairly well, depending on the context.
He wasn't much of a guy for power, either. No more beyond what he could beat assholes to death with, and said assholes were usually the ones who coveted control. No, Jailbird was more than dandy working as the garbage man, and the more time he spent here, the more he was convinced he'd need to pick up the job again. At the moment, however, he was definitely not walking in circles through the jungle, and was not tempted to burn everything down to finally get some relief from the fucking touchy leaves. If he were, he wouldn't be in a very pleasant mood at all.
But he was.
It didn't help that he found someone just- grinning like some kind of weirdo. The feline squinted, wondering if the heat had fucked with their head, or what. The lion was paler than Jailbird, so maybe the sun wasn't as shitty, but it was still hot out here.
"You're definitely not my sugar daddy. How many paws am I holding up?" He didn't lift any, still peering at the lion, looking for some kind of delirium. "Do you know who you are?"
[align=right][i]INFORMATION
So to revise that, Jailbird could let go fairly well, depending on the context.
He wasn't much of a guy for power, either. No more beyond what he could beat assholes to death with, and said assholes were usually the ones who coveted control. No, Jailbird was more than dandy working as the garbage man, and the more time he spent here, the more he was convinced he'd need to pick up the job again. At the moment, however, he was definitely not walking in circles through the jungle, and was not tempted to burn everything down to finally get some relief from the fucking touchy leaves. If he were, he wouldn't be in a very pleasant mood at all.
But he was.
It didn't help that he found someone just- grinning like some kind of weirdo. The feline squinted, wondering if the heat had fucked with their head, or what. The lion was paler than Jailbird, so maybe the sun wasn't as shitty, but it was still hot out here.
"You're definitely not my sugar daddy. How many paws am I holding up?" He didn't lift any, still peering at the lion, looking for some kind of delirium. "Do you know who you are?"
[align=right][i]INFORMATION
[align=center][table][tr][td]
NO USE TRYING TO SAVE MY
[/td][td]SOUL
[/td][td]SOUL
[/td][td]SOUL
[/td][td]SOUL
[/td][/tr][/table]