"Because I'm not happy unless everyone around me is. It's a bad trait, but others seem to like it." Another one lands on his shoulder.
She just nods and makes an 'ah' noise. "I assume those crows are your... pets?... what are their names?"
"Oh, I don't know them. They're just resting right now. One is just passing through, while the other is looking for a boyfriend." Vultures circle overhead. "Wanna get something to eat?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
"Because I'm not happy unless everyone around me is. It's a bad trait, but others seem to like it." Another one lands on his shoulder.
She just nods and makes an 'ah' noise. "I assume those crows are your... pets?... what are their names?"
"Oh, I don't know them. They're just resting right now. One is just passing through, while the other is looking for a boyfriend." Vultures circle overhead. "Wanna get something to eat?"
Pimento is sitting outside of an abandoned building, leaning against it as he brushes his hair with a knife comb, his slitted eyes watching those who pass, his wings resting at his sides.
He feels better. That's all the save does. After all, he's talking with a good friend.
"I picked thirteen. Most weren't of edible quality, so I left them on the ground. Bugs love apples, and they aren't as picky as I am." He begins to lead Mac toward the tavern. "I really enjoy apples. They're very versatile if you know how to use them. Once when I was little, I made an apple pie in a teacup! My father taught me not to do that anymore. He said it was wasteful and hit me with his belt." He looks up, then points with his free hand. "Hey, lookie." There are vultures circling overhead. "That's a good omen."
"Woah, that's cool. Why did he hit you? That doesnt sound wasteful. Where are we going?"
"We're going to the tavern to get some food. My father is always right. He's big and strong and I'm not, and I never will be. He says that sometimes. He also says other things, but he told me not to repeat most of them."
His movements are gentle and fluid, as if he were being carried by a breeze.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
Pimento is sitting outside of an abandoned building, leaning against it as he brushes his hair with a knife comb, his slitted eyes watching those who pass, his wings resting at his sides.
He notices a catlike person with white bloodstained tanktop, a sci-fi looking rusted metal bag, half of the person's fur is greenish though greyed, and the other half a dark blueish purple, the purple having a metal eye with an orange glass lens. The other half has a normal cat eye. They are rather muscular, and have a rusted turret tied to their arm, and a metal, rusted mask covering their mouth with wires full of their blood in it, and they have jogging pants and a belt.
Uriel is out in a battlefield, combing through the remains of the dead, offering prayers up as he goes, dressed in a type of priest outfit
A catlike person (with white bloodstained tanktop, a sci-fi looking rusted metal bag, half of the person's fur is greenish though greyed, and the other half a dark blueish purple, the purple having a metal eye with an orange glass lens. The other half has a normal cat eye. They are rather muscular, and have a rusted turret tied to their arm, and a metal, rusted mask covering their mouth with wires full of their blood in it, and they have jogging pants and a belt.) walks over to them
Can you imagine? Living your life, constantly worrying and working? God.. then again, he has nothing to do with it...
A man stands outside the tavern, leaning against the side by the door. He wears a long black jacket, the hem barely hitting the ground. They are tall, extremely tall, nearly 8 feet. They seem to have extremely long black hair with a single white streak in it, unkept and ragged. They wear a mask over their face, pure plain black with no eyeholes or mouthhole. In a clawed hand, the sharp nails painted black, they hold a lit cigarette between their first and middle finger which, for both hands, are decorated in silvery rings studded with red gems.
They lift up their mask, barely, taking a drag from their cigarette and exhaling a cloud of red smoke from their mouth.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
Pimento is sitting outside of an abandoned building, leaning against it as he brushes his hair with a knife comb, his slitted eyes watching those who pass, his wings resting at his sides.
He notices a catlike person with white bloodstained tanktop, a sci-fi looking rusted metal bag, half of the person's fur is greenish though greyed, and the other half a dark blueish purple, the purple having a metal eye with an orange glass lens. The other half has a normal cat eye. They are rather muscular, and have a rusted turret tied to their arm, and a metal, rusted mask covering their mouth with wires full of their blood in it, and they have jogging pants and a belt.
He looks over to them with a tilted head, cracking a little bit of a sharp toothed smile. He nods to them respectfully, gesturing them over to stand next to them, putting one of his other knives away.
Can you imagine? Living your life, constantly worrying and working? God.. then again, he has nothing to do with it...
A man stands outside the tavern, leaning against the side by the door. He wears a long black jacket, the hem barely hitting the ground. They are tall, extremely tall, nearly 8 feet. They seem to have extremely long black hair with a single white streak in it, unkept and ragged. They wear a mask over their face, pure plain black with no eyeholes or mouthhole. In a clawed hand, the sharp nails painted black, they hold a lit cigarette between their first and middle finger which, for both hands, are decorated in silvery rings studded with red gems.
They lift up their mask, barely, taking a drag from their cigarette and exhaling a cloud of red smoke from their mouth.
Uriel is out in a battlefield, combing through the remains of the dead, offering prayers up as he goes, dressed in a type of priest outfit
A catlike person (with white bloodstained tanktop, a sci-fi looking rusted metal bag, half of the person's fur is greenish though greyed, and the other half a dark blueish purple, the purple having a metal eye with an orange glass lens. The other half has a normal cat eye. They are rather muscular, and have a rusted turret tied to their arm, and a metal, rusted mask covering their mouth with wires full of their blood in it, and they have jogging pants and a belt.) walks over to them
They tilt their head at the approaching cat, "Hello, may I help you?"
Pimento is sitting outside of an abandoned building, leaning against it as he brushes his hair with a knife comb, his slitted eyes watching those who pass, his wings resting at his sides.
He notices a catlike person with white bloodstained tanktop, a sci-fi looking rusted metal bag, half of the person's fur is greenish though greyed, and the other half a dark blueish purple, the purple having a metal eye with an orange glass lens. The other half has a normal cat eye. They are rather muscular, and have a rusted turret tied to their arm, and a metal, rusted mask covering their mouth with wires full of their blood in it, and they have jogging pants and a belt.
He looks over to them with a tilted head, cracking a little bit of a sharp toothed smile. He nods to them respectfully, gesturing them over to stand next to them, putting one of his other knives away.
The person waves to them, speaking in a raspy voice, one deep and clearly worried about something. "Hello. What might your name be?"
"Oh, I don't know them. They're just resting right now. One is just passing through, while the other is looking for a boyfriend." Vultures circle overhead. "Wanna get something to eat?"
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
*Yes pls*
Sig but long ^w^
Gulpmissle Day, Saturday, Feburay 15th, 2025
💛🤍💜🖤 🩷💛💙
Henlo, I am a pan, NB, chaotic ADHD mess of a furry.
I am also a eepy eeper, who likes WoF, WC, and fire.
She follows them, Sandstorm wrapping around her arm.
He smiles, before getting them two cups and grabbing her good whiskey to pour into them, walking back and kissing them.
“I… I was worried that ya wouldn’t, I love bein’ yer dad.”
*Ah, one of my closest and most beloved friends.*
"Sure? I heard there's this new chef here"
Sig but long ^w^
Gulpmissle Day, Saturday, Feburay 15th, 2025
💛🤍💜🖤 🩷💛💙
Henlo, I am a pan, NB, chaotic ADHD mess of a furry.
I am also a eepy eeper, who likes WoF, WC, and fire.
Pimento is sitting outside of an abandoned building, leaning against it as he brushes his hair with a knife comb, his slitted eyes watching those who pass, his wings resting at his sides.
*sure, I can put my little lad down :3*
Uriel is out in a battlefield, combing through the remains of the dead, offering prayers up as he goes, dressed in a type of priest outfit
"We're going to the tavern to get some food. My father is always right. He's big and strong and I'm not, and I never will be. He says that sometimes. He also says other things, but he told me not to repeat most of them."
His movements are gentle and fluid, as if he were being carried by a breeze.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
May each word that I speak be backed by each of my teeth.
He notices a catlike person with white bloodstained tanktop, a sci-fi looking rusted metal bag, half of the person's fur is greenish though greyed, and the other half a dark blueish purple, the purple having a metal eye with an orange glass lens. The other half has a normal cat eye. They are rather muscular, and have a rusted turret tied to their arm, and a metal, rusted mask covering their mouth with wires full of their blood in it, and they have jogging pants and a belt.
Sig but long ^w^
Gulpmissle Day, Saturday, Feburay 15th, 2025
💛🤍💜🖤 🩷💛💙
Henlo, I am a pan, NB, chaotic ADHD mess of a furry.
I am also a eepy eeper, who likes WoF, WC, and fire.
A catlike person (with white bloodstained tanktop, a sci-fi looking rusted metal bag, half of the person's fur is greenish though greyed, and the other half a dark blueish purple, the purple having a metal eye with an orange glass lens. The other half has a normal cat eye. They are rather muscular, and have a rusted turret tied to their arm, and a metal, rusted mask covering their mouth with wires full of their blood in it, and they have jogging pants and a belt.) walks over to them
Sig but long ^w^
Gulpmissle Day, Saturday, Feburay 15th, 2025
💛🤍💜🖤 🩷💛💙
Henlo, I am a pan, NB, chaotic ADHD mess of a furry.
I am also a eepy eeper, who likes WoF, WC, and fire.
*Anyone else want Muddy (The tomboy tabaxi)?*
Sig but long ^w^
Gulpmissle Day, Saturday, Feburay 15th, 2025
💛🤍💜🖤 🩷💛💙
Henlo, I am a pan, NB, chaotic ADHD mess of a furry.
I am also a eepy eeper, who likes WoF, WC, and fire.
Can you imagine? Living your life, constantly worrying and working? God.. then again, he has nothing to do with it...
A man stands outside the tavern, leaning against the side by the door. He wears a long black jacket, the hem barely hitting the ground. They are tall, extremely tall, nearly 8 feet. They seem to have extremely long black hair with a single white streak in it, unkept and ragged. They wear a mask over their face, pure plain black with no eyeholes or mouthhole. In a clawed hand, the sharp nails painted black, they hold a lit cigarette between their first and middle finger which, for both hands, are decorated in silvery rings studded with red gems.
They lift up their mask, barely, taking a drag from their cigarette and exhaling a cloud of red smoke from their mouth.
"Forgive the mess, I am trying to regain my sanity again."
[Taken by my gourmand boyfriend]
He looks over to them with a tilted head, cracking a little bit of a sharp toothed smile. He nods to them respectfully, gesturing them over to stand next to them, putting one of his other knives away.
*FRIEND! [Tackle hug]*
*I have returned to existing, how are you?*
They tilt their head at the approaching cat, "Hello, may I help you?"
The person waves to them, speaking in a raspy voice, one deep and clearly worried about something. "Hello. What might your name be?"
Sig but long ^w^
Gulpmissle Day, Saturday, Feburay 15th, 2025
💛🤍💜🖤 🩷💛💙
Henlo, I am a pan, NB, chaotic ADHD mess of a furry.
I am also a eepy eeper, who likes WoF, WC, and fire.