Posts by Encyclopedia Paranoica

[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 300px; height: auto;][hr][justify][size=8]The paranoid as hell feline was mid way through one of his weekly snaps. The depressing as hell emo child had his hardhat on. Had his knife in his maw, and a room that was rigged to the max with traps and sirens.
You only live once, don't let it go to waste.
His dull yellow and permanently panicked optics scanned the room for any signs of life. It was this little motto he had. If suspect someone is out to get you, you have to make sure to destroy them first. If you want to live. If you care about life. And when Trojan was out destroying and blowing sh!t up outside, he was busy preparing and barricading inside. He didn't light a candle. Candles where dangerous. He didn't have a light in the dark room. Lights where dangerous. Besides; cats could see in the dark. No furniture. No. Furniture was just another killing machine. A place to get injured, die. No blankets. They could kill you in your sleep.
The room was empty besides the insane layout of traps in front of him. Designed to kill anyone who tried to kill him first. Call him the survivalist. He took the whole 'Staying alive.' Aspect to the extreme. To the point where it was unnecessary and laughable.
Encyclopedia paranoiaca was a traumatized and permanently skittish runt in a world of things that all wanted to kill him. Even potted plants.
And while Trojan was gone, he'd stay in the panic room. Sure the door at the end of the room was open so he could talk to the exiles. But no way in hell would he feel safe within ten meters of them. Maybe twelve depending.
"Alright f#ckers; I'm r-ready t-to t-talk..." He stammered softly. "J-J-Just..d-don’t try anything f-funny u-until...t-trojan g-gets b-back."
Chlorine bleach. He had a gas mask beside him, and the giant can behind him. One could never be to sure of imminent disaster.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 300px; height: auto;][hr][justify][size=8]His soft yellow gaze scanned the two exiles. Untrusting. As usual. He was never trusting of anyone. He usually rolled solo. He found himself feeling safer absolutely alone. That was of course...Until he met Trojan. That’s when he realized a bodyguard never hurt anyone. Not that he didn't constantly check her for weapons without her knowing, and always had his pocket knife close when around her. Again, one could never be to safe. Even when with one's friend.
"B-before we get to the whole m-meet and g-greet; are you armed with any projectiles?" It's not like their response mattered or not. He knew anyone was capable of lying. Especially Trojan was a compulsive liar.
"B-Bec-because I think w-we w-would g-get along better I-if you c-came unarmed."

Don't trust anyone because you only live once. Take no chances. Speaking of which...now was probably the time to start considering freelancing.
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[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 300px; height: auto;][hr][justify][size=8]The feline gazed at Lavender. He could do what he wanted. As long as he was far f#cking away from him. "A-As l-long a-as I-it won't i-invade m-my p-personal s-space..." He whispered softly. It was obvious Antsy here wasn't going to attack. More like repel the exiles from this one room. This one little room he called his 'Panic room.'
"I-I l-like m-my room to...t-though t-that m-may b-be b-because I-I'm t-the only o-one in it. Let's k-keep it t-that way." He was usually really good at being depressing. Right now he somehow seemed depressing. Like a sick reminder that not even shy secluded felines like him could be innocent and warm hearted. Not in today's world. Animals had to adapt.

When it came to adapting, he always finished first.

At the drop of the hat when his very normal life went south? He was the first to change with the times. This was why he survived, and the others did not. "I-I w-won't be h-hostile...s-since I-I'm g-going to...t-trust that y-you guys won't." He didn't trust them at all.

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[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 300px; height: auto;][hr][justify][size=8]Spin the bottle. Ha!
Always wear a chastity belt and triple lock it. Hard hat and Chastity belt; he gave no damns about how dumb he looked. Safety first. The survivalist sat down, alert and overly paranoid as usual. The smallest noise threatening to make him jump. "I-I'll j-just s-save T-Trojan t-the trouble o-of kidnapping m-me." His soft voice carried quite smoothly.

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[hr]The small emo kid played with his pocket knife as he worked. He was actually busy writing his survival plan. The world was ending soon. Or, at least his calculated armageddon was coming soon.

"I've got my list of everything that can kill me sorted in a-alphabetical order." He said softly, raising his hand. "C-Can I go home now?"
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[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 300px; height: auto;][hr][justify][size=8]"G-Good. Y-You try...a-and I-I'll t-try."

His paw eased off the vat of toxic gas. Again, not to kill anyone. But great for clearing the area of hostilities. Another noticeable thing. How he was covered from head to toe in wounds. Some fresh. You'd probably jump straight to self harm, and depression seeing the wounds. The opposite was true. It was him and his bad luck. He was very fond of being alive.
It had become a little hobby.
"W-We a-all k-know I-I'm not m-much o-of a t-threat. A-And w-we all k-know y-you p-probably w-want t-to k-kill m-me. S-So l-lets p-play t-the survival game." He said quietly.

"A-A g-game w-where I-I don't die." The tom slid his gas mask on, and pulled the black rope above his head. It shut the door. He swallowed as he heard the clicks and locks of the door he had installed in record time. Survival of the fittest.

He knew how this game worked. He wasn't worth hunting. Now that they knew he was here, he'd stay low until...maybe they got used to him. He pulled off the gas mask, taking in a deep breath once he was finally alone in his panic room. Door closed and triple locked, room trapped, and window barricaded. He was safe. The small feline felt himself tremble. He knew his blood pressure was way to high again. Acting brave was hard.
But he'd do anything to live another day.

//And thus, the paranoid survivalist joins the party. He brings infinite knowledge on not dying XD
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[fancypost borderwidth=0; width: 300px; height: auto;][hr][justify][size=8]Ahah. No.

Germs. Germs and sickness. Possible wounding. Kissing caused strain on the mouth tissue that could lead to the clogging of the blood vessels, and eventual heart attack. Not to mention mouth wrinkles at an older age.

The tom said nothing. And the silence from him was to be expected.

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"Luck is a very thin wire between survival and disaster,
and not many people can keep their balance on it."