MAMA WE ALL GO TO HELL ― WEEKLY JOBS (8/27-9/3)

[GRIMNYTE]

[align=center][div style=" background-color: transparent; border: 0px solid black; width: 540px; min-height: 9px; font-family:GAINSBORO; line-height: 110%; text-align: justify; color:; padding: 20px"]Esklav did indeed enjoy the job system that The Pitt incorporated each week in their lives. Performing at his maximum opacity was a worthwhile experience for him, even if some would disagree (and why would they not? Most, if not all the mundane creatures he met were vacuous sloths, incapable of performing a duty past their own personal vexes). If one did not complete their job on time, they risked getting punished for their insubordination, a policy he found most agreeable. Everyone had to carry their own weight here. "Come for your weekly jobs. The deadline is in seven days. If you don't finish in time, you risk getting reprimanded."

[DANTE NORTHWEST.]

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

Esklav’s last job hadn’t been to hard and hell, Dante quite enjoyed it. ”I’ll take one.” The hybrid tumbled as he came over, giving a nod to the leopon.

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

#psychosocial.

[melantha]

[align=center][div style="font-family: georgia; font-size: 9pt; width: 55%; text-align: justify;"]Melantha yawns as she approaches; brilliant ivory canines flashing in the sunlight. The young female gives Dante a wide berth, not even sparing him a glance as if avoiding him like the plague. He is plagued, if you ask her. If she gets too close, she might catch his superiority complex and his Punk Ass Bitch syndrome. "I would like a task, Sir," Mel says in a professional tone, choosing to remain standing. Mel has some respect for authority, but not that much.

[guts]

Cosette isn't sure what weekly jobs are, but they sound pretty important, especially since they have a deadline. She had been itching for something to do, though. She hated having idle hands--or paws. "I'll take one, too," she says meekly as she pads forward. She glances at the others gathered before turning back, shuffling her paws where she stood.

[glow=black,2,300]— ✘ —[/glow]

[rushy]

[align=center][div style="width: 51%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 0px; font-family: verdana;"]Gabriel wasn't really a fan of jobs. Or chores, really. It's not that he thought he was above those who did them, nor would he ever refuse to do them when commissioned, but he did coincidentally think they were boring and his time was more worth something else. Luckily for him, though, he did also care about public opinion. "I'll take one," the serval stated plainly, swaying on his feet.