03-15-2018, 10:00 PM
Counterfeit hypocrite, holy shit
I've got some news, but it probably isn't that fucking surprising. Being a loner isn't easy. Quite the fucking opposite. Nobody I bet, really wants to be a loner. You don't wake up in the morning and think to yourself, alone is how you outta be.
I wanted to be someone. Thats all I wanted. To be worth something.
Beck offered me a shot at something that had been playing heavy on my mind for a while. It drew me in - I didn't ask any questions, didn't wonder why a man would be interested in babysitting a bunch of dead-end strays. What I learned in Tanglewood...is it's always what you don't ask that really finds a way to fuck you over in the end.
It was one of the most life changing choices I ever made - to join that shithole. When discontent though, you could call me a drastic guy.
Belial, if you hadn't guessed from that juicy little tidbit up above, is a dreamer. He was a dog fresh out of the pound - the world to him, was a sandbox. Fastforward years later- he's fighting every day with other animals just for scraps on the city streets, and cat scratches can become a bitch. Even something that small can get infected and kill you. He saw that happen to his kitty-cat friend , Cicero. Course, Cicero had cat-aids. Cicero got his flea ridden ass on the heroin needles left on the streets.
But it just goes to show how important hygiene is, especially when the only medic in the city really made him work for any sort of asthma related treatment. This proposition to come together offered Belial something new - something a drifter like him didn't dare dream of hearing today. A place to stay- where you could depend on someone else but you.
Nights had been cold and lonely, utter hell for an extrovert like Belial. Due to this, he was one of the first animals to be lulled into a false sense of hope by the complete cuntfucking useless piece of absolute shit known as -- (Needless to say, things don't go so smoothly between him and Beck at first, but thats a post for another day.) Beck.
Hey, Beck. I can't read or write- but I can damn well narrate like a fucking champ. Fuck you. Thats a little message from me to you. Genuinely fuck you. I trusted you. You gave me something to work towards - can't believe that was all a fucking joke to you.
Maybe the antithesis of a model denizen, you could immediately get a little taste of what Tanglewood was going to be. More of a taste then Bel got, though he knew his crowd when he saw it. He walked over with way too much confidence-
it was near predatory, but it was a strut of sorts. It brought him closer to Beck, so he could look them over with a wry grin plastered on his mouth. Teeth glinted, cigarette balanced perfectly between those canine lips. Some dogs could play fetch, he could smoke a pack. Fuck you. Anyways, Whoever the fuck this lil' scrap of fur was - wasn't much of a leader. They had an accent he was familiar with, but due to people he knew in the past who had such an accent, (Call out to Cassius Maxwell.) he was already ready to challenge them. Biases fueled him, and right now he was about to capitalize on a little favorite of his. Country bumpkins where all bigoted pieces of shit. Prove him wrong.
"Hey, Pussy-cat. Yeah you, fuckface. I heard something about starting a group? with assholes like the locals?
You gotta be fuckin' kiddin me! How far up your own ass is that head of yours? Give me a reason this fuckin' group thing would work. Go on, shoot. You've got my attention."
So he was against it. Once again though, hey.
Prove him wrong.
code by spacexual