05-28-2020, 05:31 PM
Bloodhound simply tilts their head, hearing Caustic cough out his disagreement. How he hated this, hated living here. Consigned to die in a foreign place, in a body that was not his. Bloodhound is sure they misspoke. They themselves are not exactly excited either, to be in ailing health, to see someone they know....? Knew...? suffer this way.
They shake their head, slowly. Careful movement, as their ears fall back a little. They do not fully understand the depth of the situation that the Doctor is in, his health was his own, but they note that he is coughing much more than they are used to, from him. Or perhaps, it was only now that they noticed.
"Perhaps I was unclear. I am glad that none of us are dealing with this alone."
Alone, we fall. It was an odd turn of phrase, from their people, who would send a child out into the night to kill a Goliath on their lonesome. To forbid their return until tribute was retrieved, until the Old Ways were honored.
They shake the memory clear, all blood and youth and loss. Grief that filled their heaving chest, wracked their nights with sobs. Years had passed. It was over.
They come back to themself, to the present, as gas spills out of Caustic's maw, as he speaks of Octane being a cheetah now. They find themself not one but surprised to learn this. They laugh, just a little. The irony of it all, Octane's near neurotic need for speed. Daredevil stunts. His many touches with death outside the ring. Of course he'd be a cheetah.
"How is he taking all of this?" Perhaps better asked to the man in question, but. They were here now.
Their eyes light up behind the eyeglass of their mask, unseen, as Caustic tells them the truth. Curious, how his toxins manifested in such a different way. Animalistic and reminiscent of a snake, even as he breathed the gas. How this world had changed them. But, their thoughts drift to Aurum, and his wings. Perhaps that was just how it was, here.
Bloodhound sits, their tail curling around, touching their toes. It was strange, how natural it all felt. Wolven instincts and millions of years of ever-evolving knowledge melding with their own experiences. Creating something... new. Greater than the sum of its parts, to a degree. It fascinated them, personally.
"I will not tell a soul, Felagí." It was habit, to add fighter. But they supposed, with no ring, with no games, there was no fight.
They shake their head, slowly. Careful movement, as their ears fall back a little. They do not fully understand the depth of the situation that the Doctor is in, his health was his own, but they note that he is coughing much more than they are used to, from him. Or perhaps, it was only now that they noticed.
"Perhaps I was unclear. I am glad that none of us are dealing with this alone."
Alone, we fall. It was an odd turn of phrase, from their people, who would send a child out into the night to kill a Goliath on their lonesome. To forbid their return until tribute was retrieved, until the Old Ways were honored.
They shake the memory clear, all blood and youth and loss. Grief that filled their heaving chest, wracked their nights with sobs. Years had passed. It was over.
They come back to themself, to the present, as gas spills out of Caustic's maw, as he speaks of Octane being a cheetah now. They find themself not one but surprised to learn this. They laugh, just a little. The irony of it all, Octane's near neurotic need for speed. Daredevil stunts. His many touches with death outside the ring. Of course he'd be a cheetah.
"How is he taking all of this?" Perhaps better asked to the man in question, but. They were here now.
Their eyes light up behind the eyeglass of their mask, unseen, as Caustic tells them the truth. Curious, how his toxins manifested in such a different way. Animalistic and reminiscent of a snake, even as he breathed the gas. How this world had changed them. But, their thoughts drift to Aurum, and his wings. Perhaps that was just how it was, here.
Bloodhound sits, their tail curling around, touching their toes. It was strange, how natural it all felt. Wolven instincts and millions of years of ever-evolving knowledge melding with their own experiences. Creating something... new. Greater than the sum of its parts, to a degree. It fascinated them, personally.
"I will not tell a soul, Felagí." It was habit, to add fighter. But they supposed, with no ring, with no games, there was no fight.
THE TRUE TEST IS BEFORE THE ALLFATHER.
[img width=500]https://data3.origin.com/asset/content/dam/originx/web/app/games/apex/apex/F2P/bloodhound-edition/APEXLB_ORIGIN_GDP_BG_4800x1200_en_WW.jpg/3ed08c66-b7fb-4e03-8159-4155dc9d6143/original.jpg[/img]
BLOODHOUND || THEY/THEM || WOLF || BIO
BLOODHOUND || THEY/THEM || WOLF || BIO