DEADWOOD / OPEN, JOINING

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    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 1.3;]There's not much here that he would class as familiar; in truth, he's come across very little at all that could be considered as such. It's not as though he's seeking conventionality, but the buzz in the back of his mind is nigh-impossible to ignore, particularly when it crashes upon him in constant waves arguably worse than all of his teenage hangovers at once. It's not crippling, mind, simply a nagging sense of unease, and he doesn't enjoy the sensation, particularly considering his tendency to push back what others would succumb to and deal with danger fearlessly. Instead, it's simply loud, and he doesn't like it. Already aware of the glaring gaps in his memory, the last he needs is for more attention to be continuously drawn to voids he can't possibly hope to fill; it's distracting at the very least, painful at worst, and more than enough of an encouragement to focus on anything else. From the unpleasantly cold weather to the distinct lack of alteration in the landscape before him, save for the towering skeleton of what he assumes was once perhaps the greatest badass of a dragon known to history, there's not much to draw his attention from the hum beneath his flesh. His tactics turn dirty, and he smothers the distaste beneath layers of ash. It's better than nothing.


    He never thought he'd find himself on the moors, but hey, there's a first time for everything. Not that he's never stepped on lands like these before, but the concept of ever returning to them, what with their overcast skies and general damp atmosphere, is not something he ever considered. It's not as though the novelty daunts, him though; adventure pushes him from rocking idly on his heels as it is, so this is simply another chapter, just as unplanned as the others. He doesn't even know if he's looking for anything in particular, at this point. Practically, he's not as young as he used to be, so the straight and narrow is not as appealing at the moment as laying his head down and relaxing, but he's not stupid enough to settle down in the open. A border is about as comforting as a cave, as much as it forces his hand and leaves him with no choice but to openly interact once more; it promises a potential bed for the night, and hey, he's willing to negotiate if they need anything in exchange for a place to stay. How bad can a bunch of people living on the moors be, anyway? Providing that dragon of theirs isn't a trophy, he thinks he should be just fine.


    With this in mind, the wolfdog settles himself down at the scent markers. He's patient enough to wait a little longer for attendance, and if this territory is as big as he expects it is, there must be enough people around for someone to notice him sooner or later. It's just a matter of time; he just hopes that time is minimised.

    [fancypost borderwidth=0;width:450px;background:linear-gradient(to right,#d9d991,#d9d991,#ff5f1b);height:1px;padding:0px;margin-top:8px;margin-bottom:6px;][/fancypost]


    [spoiler=————— tell them that god's gonna cut 'em down | updated 01/05]
    GENERAL INFORMATION / BIOGRAPHY / PINTEREST BOARD
    ✩ Deadeye | Prev. Jesse McCree, doesn't remember this | Nicknames TBA
    ✩ Undisclosed Sexuality | Male pref. | Doesn't acknowledge attraction | ♂
    ✩ Phys. 2 years old | Mentally 37 human years old | Undisclosed birthdate
    ✩ WindClan Warrior | Somewhat inspired by namesake; original influences

    [fancypost borderwidth=0;width:410px;background:linear-gradient(to right,#d9d991,#d9d991,#ff5f1b);height:1px;padding:0px;margin-top:8px;margin-bottom:6px;][/fancypost]


    RELATIONSHIPS / ROMANCE NOTES / ½ ⅓ ¼ ⅕ ⅛
    ✩ Single | Not entirely looking | No current crushes or maybe crushes.
    ✩ Not exactly above easy flirting; rebuffs most serious attempts, however.
    ✩ NPC x NPC | Generation 1 | No apprentice [open-ish; not really looking]
    ✩ Future ships and things will go here.

    [fancypost borderwidth=0;width:410px;background:linear-gradient(to right,#d9d991,#d9d991,#ff5f1b);height:1px;padding:0px;margin-top:8px;margin-bottom:6px;][/fancypost]


    APPEARANCE / REFERENCE. / STATUS / DECENT [85%]
    ✩ NOTE: Reference is not entirely accurate & shouldn't be taken as such.
    ✩ Tall, somewhat muscular build; blatantly strong and healthy. Rugged.
    ✩ Murky brown fur, esp. ruffled around face and throat. Cream underbelly.
    ✩ Prosthetic left foreleg; red serape; collar [see belt]; stetson/cowboy hat.
    — INJURIES: Mild throat trauma [difficulties speaking]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0;width:410px;background:linear-gradient(to right,#d9d991,#d9d991,#ff5f1b);height:1px;padding:0px;margin-top:8px;margin-bottom:6px;][/fancypost]


    GENERAL INFORMATION / THE ATONER / [url=http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/HitmanWithAHeart]HITMAN WITH A HEART
    ✩ Particularly calm and laid-back, even in the face of danger. Hard to faze.
    ✩ Believes in justice despite his past; always wanting to do the right thing.
    ✩ Affably charming in a cool, steady way. Rarely displays intense emotion.
    ✩ Notably attempts to be polite, though is capable of occasional cockiness.
    ✩ Seemingly unfazed by being a wanted man. Jokes about his own death.
    [color=#ff5f1b]—     [color=#d9d991]DISORDERS: Vague retrograde amnesia [soul-based]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0;width:410px;background:linear-gradient(to right,#d9d991,#d9d991,#ff5f1b);height:1px;padding:0px;margin-top:8px;margin-bottom:6px;][/fancypost]


    [color=#d9d991]COMBAT + INTERACTION / COMBAT NOTES
    [color=#d9d991]✩     Extreme physical difficulty | Extreme mental difficulty | Highly skilled
    [color=#d9d991]✩     Not above killing the bad guys. Refuses to harm children/the innocent.
    [color=#d9d991]✩     All nonviolent, friendly and/or peaceful actions can be powerplayed.
    [color=#d9d991]✩     To engage in combat, use [color=white]bold white    , [color=black]black     or bold underlined.

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    Redpaw hadn't been a frequent traveler, though she had seen more of the world than most. The journey from her birth Clan to here had been long, and she had gone the wrong way several times, so she was well acquainted with adapting to her surroundings. Now that she was here in WindClan, however, she doubted she'd have to leave very soon, if at all. She was living a comfortable existence — one that she hoped newcomers would find as well. Redpaw nodded a greeting towards the stranger on the border — not quite large enough to be a wolf, but not small enough for a domestic canine. [color=#e7b4b6]"Welcome to WindClan. What's your name and how can I help you?" she questioned.
    [hr]

    tags — updated 11/30

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    Leapwishes could agree with Deadeye about the territory. She had never really seen them before she joined WindClan. Not that she was complaining, because they were rather pretty, but it did make her miss the forest with a roof of leaves. Not that there weren't trees here, there just wasn't as much as the forests had. That, and she definitely couldn't have her altar here in the open, which totally sucked. Even if she could, she couldn't bring it all here by herself. But... she really had to stop complaining about that. She had already downsized it, and was still groaning about how she couldn't have the whole thing with her. Leap thought she'd get over it by now, but... apparently not.


    The feline was wandering near the borders, thinking about what kind of ritual she should try next, and almost completely ignoring the wolfdog, had she not stopped because of something in the corner of her vision. That something happened to be Deadeye. "Hmmm, hello there! What're you doing here?" she asked, looking his form up and down. He was dressed a bit strangely, in her opinion, with the collar and that hat. And a prosthetic leg? It made her curious, but she didn't ask anything. Instead waiting for his answer.


    serah .
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    The dragon had been the first thing to catch Hanzo's attention when he had appeared at the border, and with the lack of people to greet him at the border and the compelling sense he had to approach it, the remains were also the first thing he had visited. It has become a sanctuary of sorts to him ever since, for the soul of the beast still seemed to linger in the area, and it put many ill thoughts Hanzo harbored at bay, working better than any meditative trance could. He didn't know what it was that drew the man there, though he assumed it had something to do with the close ties that their draconic ancestors had with the Shimada bloodline. He didn't know of his own abilities, not just yet, and he didn't recognize that the low murmuring of the deceased beast was beckoning him to release the part of his soul that Hanzo didn't know he had. That hardly mattered at the moment, however, for Hanzo's souls were quietly stirring inside of him, idle and content after having visited the said burial ground of the beast.


    It wasn't hard to spot individuals at the border even from distances like the ones that now existed between Deadeye and the group and Hanzo. The moor did little to hide anyone, for there were scarce any trees to cover incoming trespassers. He hadn't noticed the man for other reasons, those being meditation, but the moment he started heading down the hill (with no doubt going equally as noticed at that point when he decided to stir) he altered his path towards the gathering instead of opting to head back home. He didn't quite feel like going back there with the events that had transpired but a few nights before. Voices still whispered in the shadows cloaking his home, and invisible eyes still peered judgingly down at him however hard he willed them to go away. Vader's help hardly did anything, and Hanzo didn't feel like bothering anyone else if another nightmare decided to grip his mind. Despite his more introverted nature, communication sounded far more appealing.


    A low, steadying breath escaped Hanzo as he finally approached, hoping he hadn't missed anything too important. All three seemed content lounging about (though his amber gaze didn't fail to notice the unease present in Deadeye's eyes even if he didn't outright aknowledge it,) and so he safely assumed that no, he hadn't missed anything worthwhile. Not sure of what was already said, Hanzo decided to withhold from any introductions or inquiries, letting the scene sort itself out first so he could organize his thoughts while analyzing the canine infront of him. His gaze settled on the assortment of accessories that he wore, and the Akita couldn't help but twitch his right ear where one lone piercing hung. But what caught his attention the most was the leg, and he peered at it as if disassembling the machinery right there with his eyes. Seemed advanced, though at that thought he swore he could hear the thousands of tiny gears whirring in protest in his back legs at the observation, as if to scream "we're more advanced than that pile of junk." It caused his brows to furrow in a gentle frown, but he withdrew from commenting on anything still, turning his intense gaze instead to meet Deadeye's own.


    tags (updated 12/29)

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 1.3;]Yeah, he's an in-the-middle type of guy. Too much to be this, but not enough to be that, offered no choice but to settle for an odd mix of the two extremes. He'd not even consider himself a jack of all trades, really, because there are blatant specialisations that he relies on, but in all senses, whether in terms of his breed or.. other aspects of himself, he generally finds himself in centre territory. Up front, but with equal distance to his right and left. Still, he leans to one side and favours the flesh over a cool press of metal, even if it's an indistinguishable part of himself, no longer capable of being extracted from his very being in a way that wouldn't cause him an odd sort of discomfort. Three-legged-ness is not for him. Again, he chalks that down to his middle-ground nature. Can't have too much weight on one side, can he? The imperceptible shift and slide away from his prosthetic isn't enough to unbalance his body just yet.


    It takes two, apparently, to voice a dual-toned mixture of similarly-phrased and identically-answered inquiries, the sorts that have his ears lifting from their half-folded position, expression morphing. It's slow, almost easy, but it's honestly hard to tell whether that's a smile or whether his features form a neutral frame. It's awfully ambiguous, but it damn works, so he lets it stay. "The name's Deadeye." Of course, it's not, but that sounds good enough. 'Rolls off his tongue, and all. It's sort of hard to operate when you don't even have an identity, but spitting out something like that was easier than he anticipated, so he'll stick with it. Jaws press and grind as though he's chewing at something, a phantom object caught between his pearly teeth, and he shrugs a shoulder. "What is this place?" He's not familiar with the clan-lands, if it ain't obvious, but maybe they'll be able to tell him something. Neither of them seem like a real danger, or like they desire to do him any harm — it's the third that draws a careful gaze, not necessarily because he believes that there's much of a difference in the intentions between the two gals and this guy, but still.. Still. The tattoo and twin prosthetics are certainly eye-catching. "What happened there?" It's not that he's much of a prober, but still, he can be curious, right? There's no obligation to reply, no reason why there shouldn't be a question fired right back. Still, he's not above cheating. It's just a matter of whether these people are trustworthy or not.

    [fancypost borderwidth=0;width:450px;background:linear-gradient(to right,#d9d991,#d9d991,#ff5f1b);height:1px;padding:0px;margin-top:8px;margin-bottom:6px;][/fancypost]


    [spoiler=————— tell them that god's gonna cut 'em down | updated 01/05]
    GENERAL INFORMATION / BIOGRAPHY / PINTEREST BOARD
    ✩ Deadeye | Prev. Jesse McCree, doesn't remember this | Nicknames TBA
    ✩ Undisclosed Sexuality | Male pref. | Doesn't acknowledge attraction | ♂
    ✩ Phys. 2 years old | Mentally 37 human years old | Undisclosed birthdate
    ✩ WindClan Warrior | Somewhat inspired by namesake; original influences

    [fancypost borderwidth=0;width:410px;background:linear-gradient(to right,#d9d991,#d9d991,#ff5f1b);height:1px;padding:0px;margin-top:8px;margin-bottom:6px;][/fancypost]


    RELATIONSHIPS / ROMANCE NOTES / ½ ⅓ ¼ ⅕ ⅛
    ✩ Single | Not entirely looking | No current crushes or maybe crushes.
    ✩ Not exactly above easy flirting; rebuffs most serious attempts, however.
    ✩ NPC x NPC | Generation 1 | No apprentice [open-ish; not really looking]
    ✩ Future ships and things will go here.

    [fancypost borderwidth=0;width:410px;background:linear-gradient(to right,#d9d991,#d9d991,#ff5f1b);height:1px;padding:0px;margin-top:8px;margin-bottom:6px;][/fancypost]


    APPEARANCE / REFERENCE. / STATUS / DECENT [85%]
    ✩ NOTE: Reference is not entirely accurate & shouldn't be taken as such.
    ✩ Tall, somewhat muscular build; blatantly strong and healthy. Rugged.
    ✩ Murky brown fur, esp. ruffled around face and throat. Cream underbelly.
    ✩ Prosthetic left foreleg; red serape; collar [see belt]; stetson/cowboy hat.
    — INJURIES: Mild throat trauma [difficulties speaking]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0;width:410px;background:linear-gradient(to right,#d9d991,#d9d991,#ff5f1b);height:1px;padding:0px;margin-top:8px;margin-bottom:6px;][/fancypost]


    GENERAL INFORMATION / THE ATONER / [url=http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/HitmanWithAHeart]HITMAN WITH A HEART
    ✩ Particularly calm and laid-back, even in the face of danger. Hard to faze.
    ✩ Believes in justice despite his past; always wanting to do the right thing.
    [color=#d9d991]✩     Affably charming in a cool, steady way. Rarely displays intense emotion.
    [color=#d9d991]✩     Notably attempts to be polite, though is capable of occasional cockiness.
    [color=#d9d991]✩     Seemingly unfazed by being a wanted man. Jokes about his own death.
    [color=#ff5f1b]—     [color=#d9d991]DISORDERS: Vague retrograde amnesia [soul-based]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0;width:410px;background:linear-gradient(to right,#d9d991,#d9d991,#ff5f1b);height:1px;padding:0px;margin-top:8px;margin-bottom:6px;][/fancypost]


    [color=#d9d991]COMBAT + INTERACTION / COMBAT NOTES
    [color=#d9d991]✩     Extreme physical difficulty | Extreme mental difficulty | Highly skilled
    [color=#d9d991]✩     Not above killing the bad guys. Refuses to harm children/the innocent.
    [color=#d9d991]✩     All nonviolent, friendly and/or peaceful actions can be powerplayed.
    [color=#d9d991]✩     To engage in combat, use [color=white]bold white    , [color=black]black     or bold underlined.

    [align=center][fancypost bgcolor=;border:0px;width:450px;text-align:justify;font-size:8pt]
    Deadeye. The name caught Neo's interest. It was interesting enough, though she was more interested in figuring out if this guy was as interesting as his name. The fox trailed over and sat down, offering a wave of her tail in greeting. She had a feeling bringing up someone's prosthetics where not exactly... the best thing to do to make a first impression, but to each their own. Neo couldint help but feel a bit curious about the tattoos herself.
    [hr]

    info — updated 01/2

    info — updated 01/2

    [fancypost bgcolor= transparent; border:0px; text-align:justify; width:400px; line-height: 96%][size=8]track [s]IT''''''''S HIGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON

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    high noot


    He remained silent for the duration of the response and the questions, taking it upon himself in proper Japanese fashion to wait until someone was done speaking to start replying. Instead he settled on continuing to analyze the man, watching his movements, the idle ease of his posture, the shifts in the muscles as he moves from one leg to the other. None of it goes by unnoticed, and he almost doesn't notice the way that he is so intensely staring at the guy until he feels Deadeye's gaze move to in turn look at him. It doesn't deter Hanzo, and he instead lifts his gaze from the serape he had been busying himself with to meet the man's gaze with equal intensity. He wasn't expecting the question, however, and it caused the hawk-like focus to waver, surprise changing into defensiveness. He knew what that question meant, he wasn't an idiot, and it caused the severed nerves on his back legs to prickle in discomfort. He didn't know how to respond, wanting to be as polite as possible even as his emotions screamed at him to be an asshole. The logic always prevailed, however, and he took a steadying breath as he carefully articulated his response.


    "I could ask you the same question," he responded, finally settling on the words after the prolonged silence. There was an edge to his tone, and though he wasn't exactly being aggressive with the retort, he made it obvious that any further questions would be met with the same cool disregard. Hanzo didn't pry into other people's lives straight off the bat. It seemed not everyone had that kind of mindset, though, as evidenced by the blatant disregard that had been shown by Deadeye. A flurry of emotions Hanzo couldn't quite place filled the pit of his stomach, though the one he could make out was nervousness, the kind that made your entire form itch and made him want to run away from this scene. Gears continued to whir violently in his legs, and in a split second the Akita's brows were furrowed even more, his eyes which had just been intensely settled on Deadeye losing their aggression and turning lost. Confused. The noise was too loud, and it called upon the memories suppressed by Hanzo too well.


    "Windclan. This is Windclan," his own words were startling to him, for it was like his tongue spoke by itself just to rip him out of his head. It worked well, however, and his amber eyes soon gained their focus once more, tilting back towards Deadeye and watching him like a hawk. "We are -" it was still foreign to him to refer to himself as part of a group and it caused another weird feeling to spasm through him "-a group that lives in these parts. Everyone is generally friendly, though, so you have nothing to worry about from our side." A pointed look was settled on Deadeye, as if to say that if trouble was to come from the other side, none of them would fail to get rid of it as quickly as possible.


    tags (updated 12/29)

    [align=center][fancypost bgcolor=none; bordercolor=transparent; borderwidth=0px; width: 370px;font-size:8pt;line-height: 130%;][justify]The other was abrupt: such was one small note that Cherviltea was capable of picking up on. The manner by which they simply came out with it, and questioned Hanzo on their characteristics, seemingly. Hanzo, whom responded, not with an elaboration, but with a response that seemingly.. very-much suited the reserved male, perhaps. The collie didn't know much, personally, about either of them, besides their general exterior, and their names. They knew nothing of him, either - and yet, he had a feeling that people were convinced that he was easy to read. Much unlike Deadeye, or Hanzo, he didn't exhume a rather tricky past - he wouldn't be surprised if many assumed him to be considerably empty, considering his default nature. That was what a stranger was, to those whom hadn't met them yet: empty - yet to be brimmed with information regarding one-another, he supposed.


    Deadeye. It was stiff. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing - it was simple, quick, but seemed.. somewhat abrupt, almost dry or drained in nature. Almost as if the other had seen plenty. Dead-eyes? No.. That didn't sound like the other's scene - though hey, Cherviltea was better off refraining from making mere assumptions based around first impressions, entirely. He had a bad habit of doing as such, after all - he was sure that most people did, it was simply that not many managed to acknowledge it. It was only one's default nature, after all. There was really no helping it, eventually. Deadeye, though.. As in, Bullseye? Cherviltea had never stumbled across the phrase 'dead eye'; not once. However, he'd tug his jaws into that of a congenial smile - though the name seemed blunt, and as did the person, they didn't give him any particularly dull vibes. "Cherviltea Xerses." The collie would resound with his own introduction - seemingly one of the first to mention his alias to the other individual, but others would surely follow in due time.


    Hanzo had been quick to respond to the question, regarding what the place happened to be. Windclan. It was fitting - the way by which they had described it. Of course, it meant different things, to differing individuals. Descriptions were unique to the experience, after all, and Cherviltea knew of how he felt about his home, which was quite difficult to condense into that of a few phrases. However, it worked. It was a simple, factual explanation. "Are you looking for a place to stay?" The canine found himself inquiring, canary-hued orbs shifting from Hanzo, and towards Deadeye, shortly afterwards. They had questioned of what the place was, after all. Perhaps, they were lost? Well, whatever it happened to be, then Cherviltea would hope that they'd somehow be able to solve any simple issues that Deadeye had found himself with: whether it was a lack of shelter, or a lack of navigation - either was understandable, after all.


    TAGS 07/12/2016

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 1.3;]/ rushed bc magic mike


    Look, he didn't say he was out to make a stellar first impression. He doesn't want them chewing him out before he's even stepped over their border, but he's not a saint. Relatively polite at times, sure, but not exactly a paragon. Perhaps it's a mistake to have spat it out like that, blunt and unafraid of the consequences, but it's within his nature (or so he thinks; he can't be entirely certain, considering the glaring holes in his memory), and hey, he's just a man. Mortal, flawed and liable to make mistakes. He tips his head towards Neopolitan as she arrives, acknowledging her with a brief nod and touch to the hat with a paw.


    It doesn't take long for Hanzo to draw his attention again, and his expression shifts again, still oddly ambiguous. "Well," he tilts his head, "you sure could." But he hadn't, not blatantly, so Deadeye doesn't elaborate. He just observes, silent as the light in Hanzo's eyes morphs and shifts, and then his ears set forwards once more as his other inquiries are answered. Now, Deadeye's no fool; he recognises a veiled threat when he hears one, as easy as it could be to interpret it in any other way. "Sounds like a—" Words die in his throat, and the canine turns again to face Cherviltea. Prosthetics, it seems, are rife here. "Yeah." He is, he supposes; he has nowhere else to go, and hey, he won't say no to a free bed. Not that he's expecting it to be.. free, not entirely, but so far, Cherviltea doesn't seem prepared to hand out job after job, so he's more than willing to hope that he'll get off lightly. "What's the payment?"

    [fancypost borderwidth=0;width:450px;background:linear-gradient(to right,#d9d991,#d9d991,#ff5f1b);height:1px;padding:0px;margin-top:8px;margin-bottom:6px;][/fancypost]


    [spoiler=————— tell them that god's gonna cut 'em down | updated 01/05]
    GENERAL INFORMATION / BIOGRAPHY / PINTEREST BOARD
    ✩ Deadeye | Prev. Jesse McCree, doesn't remember this | Nicknames TBA
    ✩ Undisclosed Sexuality | Male pref. | Doesn't acknowledge attraction | ♂
    ✩ Phys. 2 years old | Mentally 37 human years old | Undisclosed birthdate
    ✩ WindClan Warrior | Somewhat inspired by namesake; original influences

    [fancypost borderwidth=0;width:410px;background:linear-gradient(to right,#d9d991,#d9d991,#ff5f1b);height:1px;padding:0px;margin-top:8px;margin-bottom:6px;][/fancypost]


    RELATIONSHIPS / ROMANCE NOTES / ½ ⅓ ¼ ⅕ ⅛
    ✩ Single | Not entirely looking | No current crushes or maybe crushes.
    ✩ Not exactly above easy flirting; rebuffs most serious attempts, however.
    ✩ NPC x NPC | Generation 1 | No apprentice [open-ish; not really looking]
    ✩ Future ships and things will go here.

    [fancypost borderwidth=0;width:410px;background:linear-gradient(to right,#d9d991,#d9d991,#ff5f1b);height:1px;padding:0px;margin-top:8px;margin-bottom:6px;][/fancypost]


    APPEARANCE / REFERENCE. / STATUS / DECENT [85%]
    ✩ NOTE: Reference is not entirely accurate & shouldn't be taken as such.
    ✩ Tall, somewhat muscular build; blatantly strong and healthy. Rugged.
    ✩ Murky brown fur, esp. ruffled around face and throat. Cream underbelly.
    ✩ Prosthetic left foreleg; red serape; collar [see belt]; stetson/cowboy hat.
    — INJURIES: Mild throat trauma [difficulties speaking]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0;width:410px;background:linear-gradient(to right,#d9d991,#d9d991,#ff5f1b);height:1px;padding:0px;margin-top:8px;margin-bottom:6px;][/fancypost]


    GENERAL INFORMATION / THE ATONER / [url=http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/HitmanWithAHeart]HITMAN WITH A HEART
    [color=#d9d991]✩     Particularly calm and laid-back, even in the face of danger. Hard to faze.
    [color=#d9d991]✩     Believes in justice despite his past; always wanting to do the right thing.
    [color=#d9d991]✩     Affably charming in a cool, steady way. Rarely displays intense emotion.
    [color=#d9d991]✩     Notably attempts to be polite, though is capable of occasional cockiness.
    [color=#d9d991]✩     Seemingly unfazed by being a wanted man. Jokes about his own death.
    [color=#ff5f1b]—     [color=#d9d991]DISORDERS: Vague retrograde amnesia [soul-based]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0;width:410px;background:linear-gradient(to right,#d9d991,#d9d991,#ff5f1b);height:1px;padding:0px;margin-top:8px;margin-bottom:6px;][/fancypost]


    [color=#d9d991]COMBAT + INTERACTION / COMBAT NOTES
    [color=#d9d991]✩     Extreme physical difficulty | Extreme mental difficulty | Highly skilled
    [color=#d9d991]✩     Not above killing the bad guys. Refuses to harm children/the innocent.
    [color=#d9d991]✩     All nonviolent, friendly and/or peaceful actions can be powerplayed.
    [color=#d9d991]✩     To engage in combat, use [color=white]bold white    , [color=black]black     or bold underlined.

    [fancypost bgcolor=;border:0px;width:425px;text-align:justify;font-size:8pt]A huff escaped Hanzo at Deadeye's response though he decided not to continue speaking in that context. Neither men seemed keen on explaining their pasts, and the Akita was content with keeping it that way. Still, the man was interesting - much like everyone these days. But the ones with undisclosed pasts were far more intriguing than those who easily gave theirs up. Deadeye didn't strike Hanzo as the latter, and something within the archer willed him to find out everything there was to know about this individual. He already knew so much about his clanmates without them telling him, but it was the ones who carried themselves around so easily that were the hardest to understand. They were the wildcard. Hanzo didn't like wildcards.


    "It sounds like a warning. We are no warring group, but we don't take kindly to those who try and cause trouble. I have no qualms with you as of yet, but I don't want you thinking that you can take it easy around here and use the kindness of strangers to your benefit," Hanzo stated simply, having caught Deadeye's start of a sentence and more than willing to finish it for him. He didn't consider many friends or family, but as of now this group had been far kinder to him that he deserved. If harm were to come on any of them, he wouldn't hesitate to fight on their behalf even if half of them didn't even recognize him by his real name.


    Guess the man was planning to stay longer, then, after his response towards Chervil's inquiry. Hanzo stepped aside slightly, as if an invitation to step past him and through the scent markers, before speaking up towards his question. "There is no payment. You're free to stay here as long as you carry your weight around and help those who help you," was his response, and a tired sigh escaped him when he realized that yet another face would be wandering around the ranks of Windclan, another silent shadow in the mists to surprise him when he least expected it. There were far too many people in the clan who were already trying to pry into his life, he didn't need any more. "So. Will you be joining us?" Hanzo's gaze was settled on Deadeye's own, though this time far more harsh and intense than it had been before, simply curious and somewhat inviting. Albeit there was still that ever present caution in there, but at least he wasn't looking like he was ready to take the man apart and reassemble him on the spot.


    tags (updated 12/29)

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 1.3;]#FF69B4
    //SCREECH BC MCCREE
    + TRACK

    [fancypost borderwidth=0;width:450px;background:linear-gradient(to right, #FF6EB4, #FF69B4, #fff);height:1px;padding:0px;margin-top:8px;margin-bottom:6px;][/fancypost]

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 465px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 8.4pt; line-height: 1.4;]PLUMERIA?? HI TEETH
    also "rushed bc magic mike" last night was hectic


    It's not so much that he doesn't want to speak about his history and more that he doesn't have his history present in his mind; what he can recall is riddled with holes, but yeah, it's not exactly as though he's keen to immediately start speaking. Not honestly, at least; he can whip up a story or two and wait for people to either buy into it or shoot him down time after time, but first-time truthfulness isn't necessarily something he's entirely fond of. Still, that doesn't mean that he tries so desperately to come off as an enigma. He just lives, and for some reason, that tends to stump the budding detectives of the world. There's no scrambling to hide a secret with him, no obvious attempts to throw off any trails that could lead to people uncovering dirty tidbits. If that makes him a wildcard, then so be it. He's a goddamn wildcard.


    It's definitely a smile that curves his lips as Hanzo speaks again, and though it's fleeting once fully bloomed, the actual drag of it is slow and as easy as his drawling tone when he answers. Isn't it funny how even without him prompting it, the Akita's mind turned straight to war? That tells him more than any fashioned story about prosthetics could've. This one doesn't trust him. [b]"Wouldn't dream of it." Is that enough to placate the wary eye that holds him? Maybe, maybe not, and he doubts it'll soothe any concerns entirely, but at least it's out there. His intentions aren't to cause any trouble for this place, especially not since they're so willing to give him a place to stay. Regardless of what Hanzo may be piecing together from this interaction, Deadeye is not here to be hostile. He's tired, if he's being perfectly honest. Troublemaking is the last of his desires — in fact, he can't count it as a desire at all.


    A lack of payment, aside from helping out as usual? Well, he supposes, a bit of labour work'd do him no real harm. As the other male moves aside, Deadeye takes that as a cue to step forwards, and once he's over the border, treading lightly but still easily, he turns back to face the archer. It looks like that answers his question, huh? "'Guess I am," he says, careful not to glance away under Hanzo's scrutiny. This one's a starer, it seems, and though he's got no qualms with it, really, he offers a quip before he can stop himself. That's just his nature, apparently. "'Got somethin' on my face?"
    [hr]
    [spoiler=TELL THEM THAT GOD'S GONNA CUT 'EM DOWN | 01/08]

    [size=8]OPINIONS & CHOICES IC / "SPEECH" / BUMP THREADS AFTER 2 DAYS


    [hr]
    [size=8]GENERAL INFORMATION / BIOGRAPHY / PINTEREST BOARD
    ✩ Deadeye | Prev. Jesse McCree, doesn't remember this | Nicknames TBA
    ✩ Undisclosed Sexuality | Male pref. | Doesn't acknowledge attraction | ♂
    ✩ Phys. 2 years old | Mentally 37 human years old | Undisclosed birthdate
    ✩ WindClan Warrior | Very loosely inspired by namesake; original influences


    RELATIONSHIPS / ROMANCE NOTES / ½ ⅓ ¼ ⅕ ⅛
    ✩ Single | Not entirely looking | No current crushes or maybe crushes.
    ✩ Not exactly above easy flirting; rebuffs most serious attempts, however.
    ✩ NPC x NPC | Generation 1 | No apprentice [open-ish; not really looking]
    ✩ Future ships and things will go here.


    APPEARANCE / REFERENCE. / STATUS / DECENT [85%]
    ✩ NOTE: Reference is not entirely accurate & shouldn't be taken as such.
    ✩ Tall, somewhat muscular build; blatantly strong and healthy. Rugged.
    ✩ Murky brown fur, esp. ruffled around face and throat. Cream underbelly.
    ✩ Prosthetic left foreleg; red serape; collar [see belt]; stetson/cowboy hat.
    — INJURIES: Mild throat trauma [difficulties speaking]


    BEHAVIOUR / THE ATONER / [url=http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/HitmanWithAHeart]HITMAN WITH A HEART
    ✩ Particularly calm and laid-back, even in the face of danger. Hard to faze.
    [color=#d9d991]✩     Believes in justice despite his past; always wanting to do the right thing.
    [color=#d9d991]✩     Affably charming in a cool, steady way. Rarely displays intense emotion.
    [color=#d9d991]✩     Notably attempts to be polite, though is capable of occasional cockiness.
    [color=#d9d991]✩     Seemingly unfazed by being a wanted man. Jokes about his own death.
    [color=#ff5f1b]—     [color=#d9d991]DISORDERS: Vague retrograde amnesia [soul-based]


    [color=#d9d991]COMBAT + INTERACTION / COMBAT NOTES
    [color=#d9d991]✩     Extreme physical difficulty | Extreme mental difficulty | Highly skilled
    [color=#d9d991]✩     Not above killing the bad guys. Refuses to harm children/the innocent.
    [color=#d9d991]✩     All nonviolent, friendly and/or peaceful actions can be powerplayed.
    [color=#d9d991]✩     To engage in combat, use [color=white]bold white    , [color=black]black     or bold underlined.

    [fancypost bgcolor=;border:0px;width:425px;text-align:justify;font-size:8pt]In those cases, Hanzo was no closed book - not that he was trying in the first place. That was the one part of his history that the Akita felt comfortable sharing with everyone, that he had been raised in a society hell bent on making sure that everything was in order. No small amount of treason wouldn't be met with torture, and revolution was quickly wiped clean without so much as lifting a finger. Hanzo had sat so comfortably in the middle of it all, and though he wanted so much to say it hadn't influenced him as an individual, he knew that was a lie. He hated it all, but eventually the teachings of his father had rubbed off of him. You could never be too careful when everyone wanted to kill you. So he carried that part of him on his sleeve, making sure that everyone knew he was someone to not be messed with. The rest he considered sacred, and most everyone didn't live long enough to get through the walls that Hanzo had set up around himself.


    He watches the smile with little emotion present on his own features, staring at it like it was something strange and foreign before moving up to meet Deadeye's gaze once more when he starts speaking. "Good," he responded, flicking his tailtip idly as if content with the answer. He wasn't piecing much together from this situation, not more than he did with all others. This man was almost the same as all others who stumbled across the border. Someone looking for somewhere to belong, perhaps. Or an individual with a place they needed to lay their head in. Hanzo hadn't been much different. What he needed now, he wasn't quite sure, but so far he seemed to have found it in Windclan. Despite his aloof nature and the ever present unrest in his soul, he sincerely hoped that everyone, including his man, found it too.


    In any other case, perhaps Hanzo would have responded differently to the witty question, but with things going smoothly (as much as they could be these days,) he didn't feel particularly obliged to continue his act of intense scrutiny. This man wasn't doing anyone wrong, and already having established that he would take no bullshit from anyone, Hanzo felt it was safe to let his guard down, enough to not seem like that one overbearing individual who would cut you up to tiny pieces if you did one thing even slightly wrong. He wasn't his father. "You could do with losing the hat," he responded idly, rolling his shoulders as the faintest hint of a smile formed on his maw. "Covers far too much of your eyes," he continued, before giving a polite nod and then turning around, feeling content with leaving the conversation there and letting the man interpret it however he'd like. He needed to go home and relax, go back to his usual plans. This was something that hadn't been in his schedule, and he wasn't too comfortable with letting it drag out.


    tags (updated 12/29)

    [fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 465px; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 8.4pt; line-height: 1.4;]It's safe to say that sore points are things that even he will avoid — yes, he'll press until he reaches a nerve, but considering most of his time isn't spent attempting to garner even more enemies, it's likely that he'll not push further unless there's something that he doesn't trust about a situation. Open books, as reliable as they are, are often terribly boring — but then again, a closed book is just as dull. He quite likes the translucent sorts, the ones that reveal some things, but then tend to keep others behind warped doors, glimpses offered and nothing more until the glass is smashed. And oh, he's good at smashing glass, both literally and metaphorically. With what he can remember about his past life, he's acutely aware that violence isn't something so foreign to him, but it's not always his primary objective. It's funny how potential paranoia can push people in such opposing directions.


    And yet are he and Hanzo (not that he knows the name, he's not been introduced, and this is all feeling awfully one-sided, or is that just him?) so different? Everything performed by the akita seems practiced, and whilst Deadeye doesn't sport a terribly disciplined façade, he hardly seems such a loose cannon that he's utterly uncontrollable. He tips his head again, noting the slight shift in demeanour once more and supposing that he has done enough — for now — to convince the other of his not-unsavoury intentions. It's true, Deadeye could easily be searching for something, but it's more that untouchable thrill of adventure that calls to him, not in that wide-eyed, childish sense that invokes wonder in those under the age of a year, but the sort that screams to a man on the run. Is he a man on the run? Probably, if his gut tells him so. It hasn't been wrong so far, after all, and he's not about to doubt it now. 'S nice to know that someone hopes he finds peace, though.


    "Don't know whether to be flattered or offended." Still, the grin is stronger now, and he lets his breath go in an easy whistle as Hanzo retreats, eyes lingering on the disappearing form before he shrugs and turns back to the others there. They've been awful' quiet since Cherviltea turned up, but hey, he's not gonna force anyone to speak. His own throat hurts like crazy, anyway; he can't remember anything, but he assumes he took a beating. "Well, guess I'll do some explorin'. Nice to meet y'all." Not that he received many introductions, but hey, that's by the by. With that, the wolfdog sets off in no particular direction, supposing he might as well map out the territory before heading back. His fatigue's abated, anyway.
    [hr]
    [spoiler=TELL THEM THAT GOD'S GONNA CUT 'EM DOWN | 01/08]

    [size=8]OPINIONS & CHOICES IC / "SPEECH" / BUMP THREADS AFTER 2 DAYS


    [hr]
    [size=8]GENERAL INFORMATION / BIOGRAPHY / PINTEREST BOARD
    ✩ Deadeye | Prev. Jesse McCree, doesn't remember this | Nicknames TBA
    ✩ Undisclosed Sexuality | Male pref. | Doesn't acknowledge attraction | ♂
    ✩ Phys. 2 years old | Mentally 37 human years old | Undisclosed birthdate
    ✩ WC Warrior | Very loosely inspired by amnesiac McCree; original influences


    RELATIONSHIPS / ROMANCE NOTES / ½ ⅓ ¼ ⅕ ⅛
    ✩ Single | Not entirely looking | No current crushes or maybe crushes.
    ✩ Not exactly above easy flirting; rebuffs most serious attempts, however.
    ✩ NPC x NPC | Generation 1 | No apprentice [open-ish; not really looking]
    ✩ Future ships and things will go here.


    APPEARANCE / REFERENCE. / STATUS / DECENT [85%]
    ✩ NOTE: Reference is not entirely accurate & shouldn't be taken as such.
    ✩ Tall, somewhat muscular build; blatantly strong and healthy. Rugged.
    ✩ Murky brown fur, esp. ruffled around face and throat. Cream underbelly.
    ✩ Prosthetic left foreleg; red serape; collar [see belt]; stetson/cowboy hat.
    — INJURIES: Mild throat trauma [difficulties speaking]


    BEHAVIOUR / THE ATONER / [url=http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/HitmanWithAHeart]HITMAN WITH A HEART
    ✩ Particularly calm and laid-back, even in the face of danger. Hard to faze.
    ✩ Believes in justice despite his past; always wanting to do the right thing.
    [color=#b13744]✩     Affably charming in a cool, steady way. Rarely displays intense emotion.
    [color=#b13744]✩     Notably attempts to be polite, though is capable of occasional cockiness.
    [color=#b13744]✩     Seemingly unfazed by being a wanted man. Jokes about his own death.
    [color=#fff]—     [color=#b13744]DISORDERS: Vague retrograde amnesia [soul-based]


    [color=#b13744]COMBAT + INTERACTION / COMBAT NOTES
    [color=#b13744]✩     Extreme physical difficulty | Extreme mental difficulty | Highly skilled
    [color=#b13744]✩     Not above killing the bad guys. Refuses to harm children/the innocent.
    [color=#b13744]✩     All nonviolent, friendly and/or peaceful actions can be powerplayed.
    [color=#b13744]✩     To engage in combat, use [color=white]bold white    , [color=black]black     or bold underlined.