TAKE MY LIFE :: private :: BUT I'LL TAKE YOURS TOO

Project K

This Sanctuary place was...interesting, for lack of better words. He hadn't expected to stay within their boundaries for so long, but here he was, inside their camp. One of them. It was ironic and weird to him, for he had expected to stay in the Chateau for, well, forever. And he had said the same thing about Gravity Falls, but that was an abandoned ghost town now. Literally a ghost town. So maybe change was good, and change was needed in his life. Thunderbolt acknowledged change as a positive thing rather than negative, as it had done much to save his skin in his earlier days of canine acting.

The German Shepherd lay in front of an older wooden house, located in the eastern sector of the territory, with a lighter and cigarette between his paws, its light illuminating the inky blackness that was the night. He took hold of the cancer in his jaws and lit it up, extinguishing the flame promptly after that. Speaking of change, this nicotine thing had to stop. But I jus' can't stop.

At the sound of a masculine Spanish dialect, shepherd turned to face Project, the hybrid who had helped stop the bleeding in his neck scar. "I'll live," was Thunderbolt's simple reply, offering the Clanmate a smile as a thin trail of cigarette smoke went up in the night sky. "Er, thanks for helpin' me back there. How're you?"

Jelloshots? Wasn't that some kind of drink? Apparently it was a person too, and maybe a fellow Sanctuary member. "Yeah. Want one?" Thun offered, opening the pack and presenting it to Project so that he could take out a cigarette if he wanted to. "Ya wanna talk about that Jelloshots gal too? Iss fine if ya don't want to, I understand."

He had a lighter of his own, but if Project wanted to use his personal one, it wasn't a problem. It wouldn't matter anyways. The German Shepherd took a seat and remained focused on the hybrid so that he could spin his tale of this Jelloshots character. The Cartel, eh? That wasn't a name he was expecting to hear. "What were ya doin' at the Cartel?" Thun asked, smoke curling from his lips as he reset the cigarette back in his jaws.

Quite the estranged relationships Project had there. Thunderbolt hadn't really been in an official relationship—what he and Raelynn had technically wasn't that "boyfriend/girlfriend/dates" relationship you'd expect. What they were, he didn't know. It just...happened.

"Where's yer wife at? Cartel-hatin Clan, a ProClan or somethin'?" Thun barked. He knew that most ProClans had a bone to pick with groups like the Cartel so maybe that was it.

DarkClan. That was an AntiClan, right? Hmm. Not an expected answer, but he'd take it. "Shame. Ya gonna completely cut ties with 'er or ya gonna try to make things right? Whatever you're doin', know ya got a Clan behind ya. If ya need help, I got yer back, sir," he drawled, exhaling another thin cloud of smoke away from Project's face. Thun was by far not the closest person to Project, but if the guy was digging his own hole, he would be more than happy to step in and lend a hand.

The muscular canine snorted at Project's remark, moving his tail and letting it lay next to his paws. "Nah, I mean, like, as a shoulder, y'know?" he replied, his dark gaze gleaming with sincerity. "If ya need a bit'a support, yeah? You ain't alone on this." A divorce was shitty as is, but the ex-partner coming in to mess with someone's life was just...why? Life is nothing but a barrel of rabies-ridden monkeys. It's shit.

"...Yeah. So have I." His entire adolescence was one big mistake. If he had just fought back and retaliated against those upright-walking cucks, he wouldn't have been separated from his family. He wouldn't have been such a disgrace to his protective father and good-natured mother. I could've been anything, and I became an actor, a slave. Jesus. Snapping back to reality, Thunderbolt shook his head a bit before another cloud escaped past his black lips. "Well, whatever you're gonna do, I'll wish ya good luck wit' it. Really."

"Guess that's fine too. Lay low, relax, let it all pass by," he droned, moving his brown cranium a bit in an odd swaying motion as he spoke. When times were hard, you'd find yourself feeling like you're stuck between a rock and a hard place. Thunderbolt understood that. It was an uncomfortable period of vulnerability and uncertainty. Seeing that he was a newcomer and unfamiliar with the Sanctuary's political state, the German Shepherd wondered how DarkClan stood with them. "DarkClan... Are they allies or somethin'? Make frequent visits or anythin'? Just to clarify."

"Ah, okay. Just checkin'." So they wouldn't be expecting random encounters from that alleged ex-wife, unless she'd go out of her way to mess with Project and hurt him. Thunderbolt had already been a bodyguard before, once for a pregnant female he took a liking to, but it seemed as if the hybrid male wouldn't need any help on this. The last thing he wanted happening was for him to accidentally stumble into a ring of trouble all because he wanted to step in and defend a Clanmate. Sometimes people just had to fight their own battles.

A spy? As in, Agent 007 spy or what? Now he was really interested. The canine seemed to straighten his posture at that remark, a new glimmer in his dark eyes. "Spy? What'cha mean by spy? Goin' around and seein' who's who or what?"