08-04-2022, 05:34 PM
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[div style="margin-bottom: 4px; height: auto; font-family: baskerville; font-size: 26px; letter-spacing: 3px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; color: black;"]OH LORD, DON'T LET ME
BE MISUNDERSTOOD
BE MISUNDERSTOOD
ACTIONS | "SPEAKING" | THINKING | TELEPATHY
It was true that he would likely reflect on his past quite often if he perhaps had a more distinct memory of it all: his childhood, being summoned to the mortal realm, and everything that led him up to his time on the Island. He knew there were lives in many other places that he had lived once, long and enduring lives filled with the same struggles he had felt now, but their fine details were lost to the wind and the passage of time itself. That wasn't to say that he did not falter in the presence of his mistakes made in this world — though he fared much better now, in the comforting village of Tanglewood with his children, it was difficult to keep those cruel nights of self-loathing and anxiety at bay, pairing self-pity he felt he had no right to bear with a fine glass of whiskey that burned his throat and soul.
Nonetheless, even if there was some mystical portal between worlds that he had somehow walked through many times over, there was nothing of the sort that gave him that kind of access to his own past. He had to keep moving forward.
And move forward Zjarr did, trekking across the seemingly endless expanse of the Neutral Grounds as he slipped down from the rocky crevice that housed his very own Forge. He prepared himself for his venture back home to Tanglewood when an abrupt noise stopped him in his tracks. The husky stiffened at the sound of a shrieking wail nearby, his muscles tightening as he immediately began to scan his surroundings. What the fuck... Was it someone in need? Or some freak banshee type of thing? Unfortunately for him, the sheer curiosity stirring within him prompted him to keep moving forward, hesitant pawsteps guiding him to the shade of a tall, firm tree where a quite disturbed-looking wolf sat.
Anxious paws touched the brim of his olive military cap, his primary source of comfort and perhaps his oldest belonging, stemming from God-knows-where and lasting him until this very moment with his constant care. He couldn't call himself a particularly reassuring person. Certainly not in the presence of hysteria, either. But damn it, he could at the very least try. And when all else fails, there was drink left. "Ah, miss?" the demon called to the other canine, careful to keep a decent-sized distance between him and her so not as to risk a potential attack. He watched her and awaited a hopefully nonviolent response before he proceeded. "'m sorry, but is everythin' alright here? Well, not that it seems like it, 'siderin' you're hollerin' 'n' such, but...any way I can help?" Real smooth.
Nonetheless, even if there was some mystical portal between worlds that he had somehow walked through many times over, there was nothing of the sort that gave him that kind of access to his own past. He had to keep moving forward.
And move forward Zjarr did, trekking across the seemingly endless expanse of the Neutral Grounds as he slipped down from the rocky crevice that housed his very own Forge. He prepared himself for his venture back home to Tanglewood when an abrupt noise stopped him in his tracks. The husky stiffened at the sound of a shrieking wail nearby, his muscles tightening as he immediately began to scan his surroundings. What the fuck... Was it someone in need? Or some freak banshee type of thing? Unfortunately for him, the sheer curiosity stirring within him prompted him to keep moving forward, hesitant pawsteps guiding him to the shade of a tall, firm tree where a quite disturbed-looking wolf sat.
Anxious paws touched the brim of his olive military cap, his primary source of comfort and perhaps his oldest belonging, stemming from God-knows-where and lasting him until this very moment with his constant care. He couldn't call himself a particularly reassuring person. Certainly not in the presence of hysteria, either. But damn it, he could at the very least try. And when all else fails, there was drink left. "Ah, miss?" the demon called to the other canine, careful to keep a decent-sized distance between him and her so not as to risk a potential attack. He watched her and awaited a hopefully nonviolent response before he proceeded. "'m sorry, but is everythin' alright here? Well, not that it seems like it, 'siderin' you're hollerin' 'n' such, but...any way I can help?" Real smooth.
bio — attack in [b]#f24b00[/b]
✰ — I'M JUST A SOUL WHOSE INTENTIONS ARE GOOD
zjarr ignibus / tanglewood / hellcat / weapons dealer / plot