10-26-2019, 04:21 PM
FOURTHWALL & GLITCHHOP
BLACK-GOLD MOTTLED HELLHOUND / BROWN-GOLD MOTTLED HELLHOUND
MALE - 22 - SOCIAL & VIOLENT / FEMALE - 17 - OBEDIENT & CHEERFUL - THE PITT
______________________________________________________________________________
THEY SAY THAT I AM THE SICK BOY
EASY TO SAY WHEN YOU DON'T TAKE THE RISK, BOY
Redvox wasn't the only one to catch the womans call, and it was only a few moments later that Fourthwall would step out from the jungle to join the pair on the border. The massive canine of black and gold brindling made his way over to stand beside the odd pittian hybrid, wind red eyes resting on the ocelot with mild interest in their bloody depths. While neither could no it, Fourth was very similar to her in terms of having lost everything he knew and wanted. Before this place he'd been a Rogue King, had built an empire on nothing and had ruled among the top groups on the continent. He'd had influence and familiy and allies, and there'd been absolutely nothing he couldn't have if he wanted it. But where was it all now? What did he have left to show for it? Did they even speak the name Fourthwall Fallout back there anymore? He didn't think about it often. The past, if you went far back enough, became nothing more than useless memories and pains and regrets. There was nothing smart about whining over what was done and gone when you had road ahead of you to walk still.
That's what the Pitt had become to the massive hybrid, a road to a future free from his past. A place where he could have more than he did when he'd first joined. He was a Maurader now, one of the highest ranking members in the group, and in a society like thiers there was nothing to stop him from doing as he pleased, something that was quite important to the impulsive and selfish male. Life was short and cruel, so it made sense to him to squeeze everything out of it that he could.
"Don't worry about the boss." the hellhound would say casually, knowing that even if Jervis got out of sorts about all the new people that, in the end, he'd see it was for the best. Morale was higher, and they had more than a few warriors now for defending the clan and launching raids. "Welcome to the Pitt. I'm Fourthwall, one of the Marauders here. If you have any questions feel free to ask."
His words were relaxed, and while they didn't come with a beeming smile or a friendly gesture, there was also no hostility in them that might intend to unnerve or threaten her. Fourth was a monster, no doubt about that, but he also had a great deal of loyalty to his clan and those who were a part of it. Plus, he was social as hell even if he wasn't some upbeat, naive kid.
WELCOME TO THE NARCISISM,
WE'RE UNITED UNDER OUR INDIFFERENCE
"Fourthwall/neutral/Glitchhop"
BLACK-GOLD MOTTLED HELLHOUND / BROWN-GOLD MOTTLED HELLHOUND
MALE - 22 - SOCIAL & VIOLENT / FEMALE - 17 - OBEDIENT & CHEERFUL - THE PITT
______________________________________________________________________________
THEY SAY THAT I AM THE SICK BOY
EASY TO SAY WHEN YOU DON'T TAKE THE RISK, BOY
Redvox wasn't the only one to catch the womans call, and it was only a few moments later that Fourthwall would step out from the jungle to join the pair on the border. The massive canine of black and gold brindling made his way over to stand beside the odd pittian hybrid, wind red eyes resting on the ocelot with mild interest in their bloody depths. While neither could no it, Fourth was very similar to her in terms of having lost everything he knew and wanted. Before this place he'd been a Rogue King, had built an empire on nothing and had ruled among the top groups on the continent. He'd had influence and familiy and allies, and there'd been absolutely nothing he couldn't have if he wanted it. But where was it all now? What did he have left to show for it? Did they even speak the name Fourthwall Fallout back there anymore? He didn't think about it often. The past, if you went far back enough, became nothing more than useless memories and pains and regrets. There was nothing smart about whining over what was done and gone when you had road ahead of you to walk still.
That's what the Pitt had become to the massive hybrid, a road to a future free from his past. A place where he could have more than he did when he'd first joined. He was a Maurader now, one of the highest ranking members in the group, and in a society like thiers there was nothing to stop him from doing as he pleased, something that was quite important to the impulsive and selfish male. Life was short and cruel, so it made sense to him to squeeze everything out of it that he could.
"Don't worry about the boss." the hellhound would say casually, knowing that even if Jervis got out of sorts about all the new people that, in the end, he'd see it was for the best. Morale was higher, and they had more than a few warriors now for defending the clan and launching raids. "Welcome to the Pitt. I'm Fourthwall, one of the Marauders here. If you have any questions feel free to ask."
His words were relaxed, and while they didn't come with a beeming smile or a friendly gesture, there was also no hostility in them that might intend to unnerve or threaten her. Fourth was a monster, no doubt about that, but he also had a great deal of loyalty to his clan and those who were a part of it. Plus, he was social as hell even if he wasn't some upbeat, naive kid.
WELCOME TO THE NARCISISM,
WE'RE UNITED UNDER OUR INDIFFERENCE
"Fourthwall/neutral/Glitchhop"
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Fourthwall Fallout - Charcoal/Maroon Brindle Hellhound - 22 Months - The Pitt
Click names for tags
Fourthwall Fallout - Charcoal/Maroon Brindle Hellhound - 22 Months - The Pitt