there ain't nothing here for me [ joining ]

[adomania]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; width: 55%; line-height:115%; text-align: justify;font-family: calibri;"]It was starting to get to him.

He didn't know if he had left the typhoon for his sake, or the sake of those around him he couldn't even bring himself to care much for. He hadn't established any ties strong enough to warrant anything more than a passing recognition, and that in and of itself led to a lot of his lack of control. Perhaps, if someone gave two damns about him and his life, things would have turned out different... but he was antisocial by nature, steering clear of crowds despite just how easy he could integrate into them. The Typhoon, although a place that housed him for the past month or so, was nothing special in the end. They were all just creatures who cared more about themselves than about others as far as he saw it.

Or maybe that was the cynicism talking. He had never felt any of this until his death, until he watched only two creatures acknowledge it and the rest go on their way, with the leader having the audacity to consider his reincarnation a simple 'return.' Des could barely hold his tongue at that statement, and it was for the safety of both of them that the meeting was the last straw, and the canine was on the move again.

Someone like him was never meant to have a permanent home, anyways. This wouldn't be that different. It wasn't like he was leaving anything special behind.

The canine had taken to favoring travel by night, finding that the shadows blended in with his pelt and hid him from view until he felt like being seen. For now he didn't, careful to keep his composure lest he rip the throat out of the first individual to come visit him. He wasn't a fan of this new, far more volatile state, but it had become like second nature to him. It was nothing different than who he had been before his self proclaimed 'change' when he was young and impressionable and had a vendetta against everything and everyone who hurt him.

That Des was back, it seemed. It was hard to change when the world did nothing but continue to beat you down.

A soft sigh escaped his parted lips, with it a lot of the strain still present in Desperado's muscles. He waited until it was all safely gone, dissipated like the smoke in his lungs, and then he decided to drop the guise, lighting a cigarette that illuminated his haunted features, blank gaze peering into the distance and waiting for someone to notice the flame. He remained quiet, not trusting his voice at the moment, and simply hoped that the hunger still gnawing at his side would remain pacified enough for him not to kill and consume the first creature that would come.

[ninazu]

Drawn like a moth to the literal flame, the serval stepped through the dark desert on her way to the stranger, her curiosity peaked. The night usually caused wonderful, interesting things to happen - more than the garish light of day, anyway. Appearing courageous - though, in reality, she felt more apathetic than anything else. Her ability to possess different bodies gave her a certain safety net in case she died; not to mention her soul fragments and her own wonderfully offensive powers providing her an edge over a fair number of usual mortals.

As she came closer to the canine hybrid, she could clearly see his bulky, wolf-like frame. The flame's light flickered across her face and the rest of her body, her golden-brown fur appearing to glow in the soft ambient light, even as her black patterns cause parts of her to seemingly bleed into the dark background. "Is there any reason why you've come to the Pitt?" she asked, her soft voice ringing with the slight curiosity in her tone. Her short tail flicked as she glanced across his piercings, thinking that the metal gleamed nicely against the fire's light. Idly, she wondered what other modifications he made to his body; though she doubted he managed to do anything more interesting than puncturing his skin with the barbaric things.

© LEXASPERATED

[DANTE NORTHWEST.]

♛ SMOKED A PACK OR TWO, IT NEVER WAS A PROBLEM —

Ah, smoking. Such a destructive habit, but one that Dante happened to do often. The Strong Arm was rarely seen without a cig in his mouth - er, rather awkwardly placed between his fangs as he walked. The only time he ever really used his paws to smoke was whenever he was sitting down or laying down to relax, since he didn’t want to get sand in the damn thing as he patrolled the border. Dante said nothing as he came over and stood next to Ninazu, eyeing the cig in Desperado’s mouth.

//mobile
[div style="text-align: right; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: 0px 0px 2px darkorange; font-size: 24px;"]— DANTE♛

#psychosocial.

[Cosmic]

Smoking was a gross and unsavory habit that some creatures seemed to pick up, and the Erudite did not understand the reason for it. It destroyed one's lungs and tainted the air around them, leading to health issues for others. He had dealt with this before, as his past 'bloodfamily' before the Pitt had this nasty problem and it only caused him misery and frequent visits to the local medics.

Nose crinkled and sharp canine teeth visible in a display of disgust, Hope came up beside Dante and narrowed his eyes. Light green gray optics glistened under the light, producing an ethereal and otherworldly glow that often caused others to get caught up in their depths. And if it weren't for him being self-conscious of his alien instincts, he would let them stare. He kind of liked the attention.

But for now he sat with his fellow groupmates, awaiting a response from the stranger.