certified freak, seven days a week ━ [WAP... SWIMMING]

[Bareilles]

TIMES ARE HARD BUT I WAS BUILT TOUGH

BAREILLES I.

COALITION

MEMBER

Barei was neither extravagant nor as eye-catching as the two in the water. He was a big cat with a few scars, and who hadn't seen one of those? He didn't have the out-there personality or the up-there looks (mainly due to his facial scarring, if he wore an eyepatch he could be considered fawn-worthy, and he'd definitely been a heartthrob in his younger years), which usually made him a bummer to be around- really, the only thing he had going for him was intimidation. He was old, not ridiculously old but definitely climbing that stairwell, and he was quiet and somber and, well- perhaps he was the stereotypical bad boy in every romance flick he'd ever watched, actually. Maybe he did have something going for him, but that didn't matter much these days: he had very little interest in promiscuity or romance, and he didn't find he had much of a need for any kind of camaraderie either, but in this rag-tag bunch perhaps he should try to at least make an impression, as if he hadn't the moment he called the yellow dude an edgy psycho the first time he met him.

Still, he found himself frozen in shock. Well, the first time he'd met Stryker he was cold and withdrawn but had an appreciation for humour at the very least; he hadn't expected him to be seductive, but then he supposed everyone had their secret talent- his was painting with his mouth, but that was less eye-catching than the little display currently going on.

And oh, he had yet to meet Argus, hadn't he? What a first impression, he thought idly, single green eye roaming over the two beasts dallying in the water as if their lives weren't draining away before their very eyes... Or maybe that was why they were acting like overgrown, hormonal teenagers. Everyone had time until they didn't anymore, why waist it?

That in mind, the feline moved silently to dip his toes in the water, freezing in shock at the chilly temperature and the reminders of that one time he drowned (and yet here he was, not dead. A shame, really), though eventually waded carefully into the water with a quiet hum.

Call him close-minded, but the words that reached his ears didn't sound child-friendly but he definitely didn't know the insinuation behind them, either. Even so he found himself floating placatingly over to the dragon and the lion, unaware that the sun glistened off his sleek, glossy coat in just the right way, or the way the beams of light lit up his pupilless, emerald eye to look as if they were made from the very stone itself.

Maybe he just didn't appreciate his own likeness very much.

I'M GONNA SHOW YOU ALL WHAT I'M MADE OF

— Reggan