Posts by Jet H.

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 450px][justify]Idiot, idiot. That's what he was. There was no way in or out of it. He was just dumb and that's all there was. He wasn't going to make an excuse, he had messed up and he was stupid. That was the only thing that really upset him, everything else was great, really. He was gonna be home, he was gonna see Momma again, right? And Pollux too, hell maybe Sola was still leader and Jemma was still out there, kicking ass.

All the people he'd made out of gold since childhood, were they tarnishing yet? Had they crumbled? He prayed, deeply, that they still stood. Because Jet could still see them in their prime, yet he couldn't get to the time where he had messed up. What had he been? Second, third tier? And at such a young age (not that he was much older now)? So dumb, he was so dumb.

But he was happy still, and as the sand dug in between his black paw pads, he would smile. Nearly cry, even, but yet he was an instant away from giggling away all his insecurities. So, Jet Harbringer would merrily take in the familiar aspects of the BloodClan border, hoping for his sights to follow up with a familar face.

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px][justify]Not at familiar face, but he was happy, anyway. He would lift a paw, rubbing his electric jade eyes and giving a bubbly grin to Merle. "Hi-hi!" He beamed cheerily. He still sounded so young, but the span of aging he'd gone through had made his voice a bit more richer, edgier and charismatic. So happy was he, yet heartbreak shadowed very closely behind him, unbeknownst.

Fauna, that was his mother. She was dead, not aware of that, Jet was anticipating seeing her. And Jemma, she'd been his aunt, but she was more of a big sister to him. He grinned a bit harder at the thought of them, tail twitching. The scar littered feline would clear his throat once again, saying, "I'm Jet Harbringer, I'm rejoining." His spark-like gaze focused on Merle, getting a very sharp feel from him. He looked pretty tough, but perhaps he was judging wrongly. The boy, still only ten months, had been training since he was only about ... six or five months? He'd built his muscular shape up pretty well, even if he didn't really put it to use.

[justify]The rugged feature couldn't help but grin as his feet touched the ground—BloodClan's ground. He swore he was shitting on this place months ago, when he was doing shit in the Milita. Guess things changed then, whatever. Life was just one big fucking rodeo, where he got to play the man and the bull. He didn't hold no grudges—not often, really. He just liked people to think he did—or at least, sometimes he liked to make people fear him. It was fun to be the devil all the time, it was a good time to be the menace.

He spat something out, probably spit or blood or sweat or a combination of all three. He was filled of substances, toxins, if you will. They made up his mangled look, his sour eyes, they made up the ugliness of his personality. He was walking, full of chemicals.

"Hey! Anybody 'round here?" Hollis, of course, knew the answer was yes, but there was nothing bad about establishment.

[justify]The boy looked up, cold brown eyes squinting in amusement. "Look at that, it's the old boss-man." His lips were tugged in a lopsided shrug, brittle teeth baring a shit eating grin. "How the fuck are ya?" Hollis' thick city accent coated his filthy words, giving a laid back roll on his tongue. Even as a superior, he had never really treated Pollux as much of a high, ethereal being. And by that he meant god-like, he bet the old guy got tripped out every weekend in terms of being "high" and "ethereal".

His shoulders gave a bounce, his dingy figure creeping forward to the deputy. "Hell, you bet I am." The wiry-furred tom held his jaw shut to stop any further insults to BloodClan in general, but a comment managed to slip. "This place don't have as many pits of quicksand like the last, what a shame."

[justify]Hollis breathed in a noise of faux distaste, a heavy grunt of amusement. Pollux was the deputy? Yeah, he guessed that was right. This was BloodClan after all, nothing made sense—Hollis could be the damn god of this place by next week, that's how backwards things went here. It was good that way, but he was sure no one would stand for his shit if he had some sort of authority, no one had ever really liked him back in the day. He had the posture of a rat, hunched over with his front paws kept close together. His shoulders would shift often, jumping and twitching—not some much that he looked nervous, but that he was built with tension, fists ready to punch out need-be. "Yeah man, a tour sounds cool." The fox-faced tom coughed out, swallowing a teaspoon of saliva that tasted of bile and blood.

God, he just couldn't believe it was Pollux. Same dude that burnt down some of his own territory and flung some of his Clanmate's around. Wonder what damage he'd paid for here.

His eyes, deep and a soft brown, were hard as he switched the gears of his gaze to Merle and Dexterity, trying to figure the two out. Stumpy tiger and psycho cannibal bitch. He could get along with that—real nice. His stare loomed at the pair for a moment, but he didn't miss a beat before he began to speak again.

"Yeah, what the boss-man said. Hollis Faust." He repeated, his voice echoing his name as Pollux did, his eyes lingering on Merle. Dude didn't seem to like him—that, or he was uptight. Good, good, Hollis digged that, he liked the attention—made him feel some kind of special, yeah?

Then, he clicked his sights to Dexterity. "Oh really? What about breakfast and dinner, what do ya eat then?" And there came the smirk again. He was thinking of something real good to say to her, but he decided to keep the vulgarity down for his first few days—no, probably his first few hours, then he could start picking on the broads like no tomorrow. God, he was a filthy guy—couldn't help it though, he'd never learn.

[justify]Hm, TidalClan. Couldn't say he could remember any beef he'd ever had with them in the past. Whatever, he didn't give a hang, really. "Yeah, hey, sweet cheeks, what can I do for you?" He drawled out, his rugged, narrow face was distorted in a grin, and he was chewing on something, some sort of piece of rubber that made his teeth sore, in a way that he loved, in a way that made his gums burn.

The constant movement of his jaw eventually stopped, and he turned his head and let the piece spit out from his lips, swiping some of the gritty earth over it. Disgusting, really, but Hollis had his charms—even if those were pretty ugly too.

[justify]"Hey man, you look like you need a drink—or a hug—but I only give out booze, so, ... shit." The narrow faced tom approached the wary-looking Attrition with that fucked up smirk of his. Hollis didn't consider himself a mushy kind of guy, nah, he was just an asshole. But it didn't make him indifferent to noticing others emotions—even though he didn't really give a shit about 'em. It was just obvious that a person was tensed up, like, anyone could spot that from a mile away, y'know? Didn't make him no shrink or nothing, he was just able to observe pretty easily.

The male scoffed. "I also give out cigarettes. Usually I charge but ... for you? You look like you need a coupla packs." He looked down at the resting second tier before following his gaze to land beyond the border. "I'm gonna assume you're not out here to check the borders so, why the hell are you out here?" God, did he really care? No, absolutely not, but that was probably because he was a selfish dick.

[justify]"Hey hey hey." Drawled Hollis, a hellish grin snagged on his fox-like set of teeth. "Just ring for me whenever you wanna dine then." He was thinking of endless metaphors of their statements—none of which included Hollis, dead, chopped up, with an apple shoved in his mouth—but hey, he was open minded about it. This was probably the most interaction he'd had in months, it really best living on the cold streets again, pissing on your own bed and finding other people shitting all over your shit. It was ugly, he was used to it, yeah, but he felt like a fucking king, in the strangest way possible.

His attention snapped to Pollux, lips rubbing together, tearing the dead skin. A girl, Pollux had a girl? Yeah, BloodClan was fucking upside down. That Sola chick must be one solid broad then, to be a leader and deal with Pollux. Not that it wasn't a good time to be around him, just seemed like a lot of work to make both things function. "Alright, see ya later man." And there went the boss. Hollis gave a roll of his shoulders, turning to the remaining to. "So, what do you even do for fun around here?" Ah, yes, fun. Entertainment, that's all he was really living for—amusement.

[justify]"Fiery. Huh. I respect that, I dig that." Hollis couldn't help but laugh, even if his chuckle did come out rather monotonous. The amount of times he'd try to get with a broad and, go figure, they didn't like boys, was ... a bit uncanny for him. More girls seemed to be gay now—and it was probably because of him. Sometimes he felt bad for the girls that he talked to, but he felt even worse for those that did find interest in him. But at the same time, it always amused him. He just wanted a reaction out of people, like a fucking attention whore or something.

The tall feline would mumble something of no value that was meant to be a thanks or a congratulations on her marriage or something but it just came out as a soft noise. He was far too intent at looking at the gifts, leaning over to gaze at the offerings. Pretty sweet. It was odd to see such a thing—usually he'd see a basket on the border back in the Milita and it'd be full of venomous snakes. Like, really.

[justify]God, he was not one for meet and greets. That shit was tacky for his taste—and he was all about reputation, he guessed. Just wasn't the type to shake your hand and go "oh hey, how the fuck are ya?" or "oh, mine name is hollis faust look here, you can all look at me!". No, it just wasn't him. Yeah, he wouldn't mind the attention, it was just a whole sense of awkward that was just too much for him. It was repetitive, and Hollis had no fucking patience so really, shouting out and announcing a meet and greet was a lost cause for him.

However, he wasn't gonna be a stranger. Wasn't gonna be the washed out dude in the background that everyone just shrugged at. Nah, he wasn't gonna be Pollux's bitch from the past—or the present (but really, he was totally his bitch, the dude called him boss and everything). The snarky tom was stood somewhere in the camp, swallowing his final bite of a quick meal he'd picked up somewhere on a walk. His claws clicked at the bones, staring at them with a thick brow scrunched and lowered, scowling.

[justify]The male came stumbling towards the call of snow leopard, looking as untamed as ever, fur rough and ungroomed, head hung low but eyes glaring upwards, smirking. "M'here, got distracted by some broads—you know the routine with me." He scoffed with humor, rolling his shoulders. Maybe he hadn't been so much of a player those months ago, but damn he had a reason. The Milita had really been lacking those sleazy types he'd usually go for, he would've tried to Liberty but damn she was too smart. The damn girl would've socked him square in the jaw before he thought of anything—so he never really found interest in her, or any of the female population there either—they were all too clever to believe any of his words for a moment.

"Gotta say, this place is a hell of a lot different. Guess if you really can't beat them, then joining them is a good idea. Huh." Hollis would mumble as he finally reached the deputy. The BloodClanners were a lot different in general, but he figured the culture had a lot of similarities. Fuck, he really had no clue, actually. Those months had been a blur, he probably drank too much back then—probably still did. Oops.

[justify]"Some call it hot hammered shit, others call it ... hot hammered shit. But I just call it shit." He sneered with a twitch of his brows, shrugging along as he listened to Pollux give the basic consensus of BloodClan's population. Huh. Guess they just didn't make AntiClans so ... "Anti" anymore. Everyone was so afraid to offend someone, yet here he was, always ready to tell someone to go fuck themselves. Guess he was getting old. Ugh.

Hollis groaned, a smirk cutting through as he kicked his feet a little. "Man, I dunno. That guy took over the Milita way back, right? Some sort of big shot tyrant? God, I hope he burned in hell. But yeah, he took over I guess, and I sort of lost it." He was saying, round eyes squinting, licking his lips as he paused. "I was like 'fuck this, fuck you, fuck'. And some chick, obviously a BloodClanner—what a fucking joke—showed up after I'd lost shit and killed me. Not good, man, not good."

What was that broad's name again? Damn, he couldn't remember, but she'd been a looker. Curves, and a nice smile too. Bet she was dead now, though. Deserved it, too. "But I came back—because fuck that I ain't done here yet, still have people to piss off, y'know?" The city boy chimed, grinning devilishly. "Lived in some deadass town for a while, then fuck, I dunno, wasn't gonna go back to the Milita, so I came here, and then you were here to. You asked me if I wanted a tour and ... here ... I am." He drawled out, giving a funny look before he hunched his shoulders over again and nodded his head.

"Man, I'm pumped. Let's get this tour on—because have I got some wild stories from living in that shithole city."

[justify]*wiggles eyebrows* hollisss
also they should have a thread *more eyebrow wiggles*

[justify]A smirk. Stalking up on to his face as the light insults cascaded into his ears, making them twitch with amusement. "I mean, I thought if I just looked at the thing long enough, it'd really want me. But I guess not ..." The sarcastic flow of his words blended in with his sharp city accent, a hundred breath breaking through at the end of his voice. With that he would kick the bone away, turning and giving Dexterity a dark look. She was a tough chick, had to keep on his toes when he dealt with her.

His round, deep brown eyes guided towards an approaching figure. He listened to the gal speak for a few moments, a casual frown taking over his expression. "Sola, you said? So you're the one that goes with Pollux." He mumbled out, nodding his head coolly before looking over towards the leader again. "Hollis Faust. Guess you could say I've known the dude from a while back now." Everything on his words was sharp, sounding like he was joking, but just because of the exaggeration in his words.

[justify]Hollis wasn't all too sure what was going on, so he kept his lips shut tight when the leopardess came crashing through. It wasn't until Sola spoke that he parted his lips, breathing out a breath that was foul and tasted of bile. Chick looked a bit bent out of shape, and the leader reckoned something about going to fetch her? Huh. Must've been captured.

"Damn. Put on a damn circus here in BloodClan." He stated coolly, closing his burnt sienna colored eyes. He stood idly where Sola and this character 'Eva' were placed, looking almost as if he were ready to spring into action. But that was just the usually Hollis, jumpy and ready to swing a punch. "You ... you, uh, need anything?" He mumbled. The fox-faced feline was never really the one to step up and be the aid, but whatever, it wasn't no big deal, right?

[justify]Signals. Huh. He was pretty sure he taught this shit back in his old hell-hole, but here he was again, with new and improve signs. They were made with noises and movements of the tail—so if you didn't have any vocal chords or lacked a tail, well, shit, you'd have to use your paws. And if you didn't have any of those ... then you were a damn living stump.

"Hey, if any of you shits wanna learn some motions for messaging in battle tactics if you don't have telepathy or any of that bullshit, c'mere." The fox-faced make grumbled, taking a fist full of slave between his claws before letting it slowly drain from his palms. This could turn out to be rather interesting—and by that he meant that no one would show up.

[justify]ohohoho
hollis?

[justify]Hollis shrugged. Yeah, thinking about dying back then made him sort of ashamed—even though he wouldn't admit it. The male kept trudging along, legs stiff as he did. His pace made him seem like he was an old man, when in the truest case he was just sore. Man, he needed to relax, didn't he? Fight after fight, banging heads against rocks and busting rib cages. Didn't seem like a big deal much anymore when it happened—he was going to die prematurely if he kept it up—again.

The silver tom lifted his head, inhaling in the direction of the border. "Smells like joy."

"Right. So in the city, there was this chick—hell, there were tons of chicks. So I was doin' my thing ..." He looked over, giving Pollux a smirk. "There was one wild night, I passed out. Next thing I know when I wake up, I'm being jumped by all these broad's men. The girls are running and shrieking, and these dudes are just beating the living shit out of me."

He licked his lips, picturing the situation. Hollis, hole in his lip, shoulder popped out of its socket. Huh. He shoulda died then too, but this was a lot funnier. "Funny enough though, all those guys that came and beat me up, they, uh, turned up dead or beaten a week later." He gave a snort, rolling his shoulders after. Hollis wasn't gonna say he had anything to do with those hoe's guy's getting killed, but ... he wasn't gonna deny anything either. Karma, it was all in the spirit of karma.

[justify]His attention snapped quickly to Hera, giving him a rush in his head that made everything starry for a second. He chewed on something that had been caught between his teeth as he listened to her speak, before swallowing and mumbling, "Well, 'magine this: you're in a raid—so you don't wanna be shoutin' commands, that'll let everyone and their mother know what's up. You gotta keep an element of surprise—so usin' keeps things 'hush-hush', yknow?" He scraped at the ground a little before giving his shoulders a thrust forward and stepping up in front of the small group.

"M'names Hollis, kid." The city dweller remarked to the eager kid that introduced himself. Ugh. Children. It was hard for the silver tom to hide his distaste for young ones, but he kept his expression secretive, clenching and releasing his jaw. "Right." He shrugged himself up a little to get attention, "So, in some cases, whether casual or not, if you want to express your presence and do so as an ally, you whistle, but at the end of the whistle, add an edge, making it a bit higher towards the end. Like this—" And Hollis did so. It was a low whistle, much like the breeze, rising up and stopping abruptly after keeping the deeper pitch for a second or two.

"If any of you guys wanna try it, go ahead—that one's not as much as a staple as the others, but it's the quickest and most basic."

[justify]"Uh-huh."

He wasn't quite sure what this was about, but he'd listen anyway. Hollis had probably just missed something go on with someone, or couldn't connect it with the announcement. Either way, he wasn't gonna deny the opportunity to wrestle a few suckers on the border, it'd be a nice little fun he could have if he was bored.