ROSE GOLD | joining

[GOLDENBOY.]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 55%; text-align: justify;"]➸ The crackle of sand was not a new sound to the caracal, listening to his own footfall on his journey. The skittering of small lizards and snakes was another sound not wholly unfamiliar him now either, a skill he never thought he would have to harness. The heavy crunch behind him of much larger feet should have caught the Golden Boy's attention immediately, but instead the wildcat was too caught up fussing over his sensitive sense of smell. It would have been wise for Gavin to react, as instead a paw nearly half the size of him swept beneath him and took his legs with him. Already clumsy on four legs, he had no hopes of catching himself, plopping gracelessly into the warm sands beneath him and getting a dose shoved directly up his nose before his body was turned over and pressed into the earth. The pressure on his ribs scared him far more than the hulking beast himself did, an immediate reminder of his untimely demise that sent his heart racing. Anxiety was a new sensation to the Golden Boy, any other time able to confidently swallow his fears and face any challenges with a knowing smile. His paws scratched weakly at the paw holding him down, hardly able to move his own body as he struggled to register which limb to move when to get his attacker off of him. A large head hidden from sight spoke into his ear and immediately the caracal's panic melted away, muscles remaining tense in such an awkward position. As he struggled to straighten himself into a sit, Goldenboy's voice was little more than a hoarse whisper.

"... Vagabond?"

Now that he could get a look at the beast without the veil of instinct, it seemed to be something ripped out of a three brothers grimm story. A massive beast from the dark recesses of Hell itself, a familiar mask staring down at him in a way that seemed distorted. Goldenboy was accustomed to seeing such a mask on a human face, but whatever was staring at him now was absolutely not human. Not anymore. To be fair it was hard to really consider Vagabond human to begin with, at least when he was on the job. In a safehouse or in the penthouse he was a much softer man, but the beast before him reflected his workmanship well. Goldenboy casted a quick glance down at his own earthy paws, flexing his toes into the sand. His gaze snapped immediately back up to Vagabond, his neck quickly developing an ache. Looking up so suddenly, combined with the sand in his nose, caused the caracal to sneeze rather violently. It almost sounded cute, certainly much less messy and gross than that of a human sneeze. "How the bloody Hell are you here?" He inquired, returning his attention to Vagabond. The open-ended question wasn't one Goldenboy exactly expected an answer to, leaning up on his toes as his green eyes narrowed at Vagabond's next statement. "Short stick? What are you going on about?" Before he could continue his question another voice interrupted the duo, gaze snapping over to a silver lion. Hold on - what? A bloody lion!

Tufted ears inclined back as he shot Vagabond another question. "Christ, you think animals have always been able to talk but we just haven't listened hard enough?" His grammar was lackluster at best, his question half-baked, but it was a relic of Gavin that shone through as the Golden Boy quickly adapted to his surroundings. Hell, he almost felt bad about killing that lizard earlier. Almost. He had killed humans who could speak, who had families to return to but never did, and he had learned to repress that long ago. Replacing human faces with those of animals would almost be easier. His attention slowly meandered back to Sephiroth, sticking his tongue out in response. "He's a bloody arsehole alright, but I know 'em." God, he was talking to a lion! He was out of his damn mind! But the weight on his chest earlier was not a figment of his imagination, the icy fear in his veins far from something his mind would concoct. Last he could remember, he had been shot in the leg and was being held to the pavement with a boot to his back. How would that lead to a fever dream about talking animals?

His contemplation of the afterlife came to an abrupt ending as a canine came to an abrupt crash landing in itself, kicking up sand and eliciting another sneeze from the caracal. As the sand settled a mottled wild dog was reaching for something. A lion and an African wild dog - was he in Africa? It was a rather ridiculous idea, but then again everything about this situation was absolutely ridiculous. Goldenboy still wasn't sure this was reality, but he would take this reality over being shot in the back of the head on the pavement of a scummy city. Oh, he was quick to block that memory entirely from his thoughts. But the wild dog himself spoke as well, and ripped that bandaid off as harshly as it had been applied. "Rimmy.... fucking.... Tim...." "Fuck" was not a word that graced Gavin's vocabulary regularly, but there was no other crutch to lean on as he stared in disbelief. No. No way. He had seen Rimmy dead. Plugged full of lead, bright clothes stained dark, dead.

Stumbling to all four paws Goldenboy led off in a messy sprint, nearly tripping over himself as he built up some speed toward Rimmy. He didn't know any way of actually embracing Rimmy, so instead Goldenboy opted to barrel into the canine.

"You were dead, Rimmy, what the Hell are you two doing here!?"