TEARS DONT MEAN YOU'RE LOSING / PRIVATE

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    [size=8]･ﾟ★ ☾ you're scared. and excited. and nervous. you're a whole squadron of emotions actually, unsettled yet eager by this new concept that has been introduced to you; weaponry. you've never held a weapon before, let alone fought with one, so you've got some right to feel queasy. then again, the person who offered to teach you is someone you're somewhat familiar with and despite your slim encounters with him, you believe your in good hands. he never gave you any reason to think otherwise back in windclan. you turn toward him now, attempting to break the ice by getting straight down to business, "so ah, what are we gonna do first?"


    @"N"[fancypost=border-width:0;color:#BDA0A6;font-size:12pt;letter-spacing:-2px][center]i'm a n-n-nervous wreck / [color=#fff]tags

    Negan wasn't a good person. At least when he didn't want to be, he wasn't. He was violent, controlling, short tempered and blood thirsty. But he had no reason to want to do anything bad to Frisk, so they were safe. In fact, Negan had some respect for them. And that's why he was more than willing to teach. He had brought his bag full of weapons with him. He typically used it to carry Lucille, but there was enough room to carry several different weapons. Which was useful. He opened the bag and spilled the contents. Knives, daggers, swords, bows and arrows, spears, a scythe-- the list went on and on. You name it he had it. "Well, first I need to know what kinda weapon your lookin' to use. Is there any that catch your eye?" he asks, gently moving Lucille closer to him so that it did not rest in the pile, his paw resting against the handle of the bat. "There's no wrong answer. Just chose the one that feels most natural to you. Go with your gut instinct."

    [center][fancypost=background-color:;border:0px;width:450px;text-align:justify;font-size:8pt;line-height:1.4;]you'd be surprised to know that people have some respect for you, especially when you dont think you've done anything to deserve it. you were a vice-deputy of phantomclan once, but it was shortlived and you never really had to make any serious decisions during that time, anyway; it was pretty peaceful under hollowmoon's reign. you helped darkclan fight off a disease that had riddled their members, but really you only gave them the necessary herbs to get through the winter. sango has asked you for guidance once or twice in the past, but neither decisions were life-threatening and the outcome would have been generally harmless regardless of whatever was picked. other than those few times, that's as far as you have ever strayed into clan affairs. so yeah, knowing that windclan's leader (dictator?) holds you in such high regards would definitely shock you, and you'd probably ask negan what you've done to make him think of you in such a way. for now though, you simply watch him as he lays out a variety of weapons, ranging from the tiniest knife to the largest bow. you prick your ears, remaining attentive, as he speaks. go with your gut instinct? okay, you think you can do that. you edge closer to the pile, scanning your choices before picking out the most mundane-looking object; a mere hunting knife. its small, lightweight, and holds some potential to you. "uh, this one." you hum, holding it up so he can get a look at it as well.[fancypost=border-width:0; font-size: 8pt; text-align: center; line-height: 95%; width:400px;] ✧ —AND I WALK THE EMPTY HALLWAYS / [color=#FFF]TAGS