Posts by Santana.

[justify][fancypost borderwidth=0pt]An odd scent was what brought him to the border. When he witnessed the foreign female standing just beyond the invisible barrier, a nonexistent brow quirked. It soon settled, however, upon hearing her request. "That's kinda a weird thing to ask," Santana commented with a snort, features contorted into that of confusion and questioning. He gave a roll of his eyes as he slowed to a halt, avoiding Finnishwars completely as he placed himself near Princi. Rather than acknowledge her though, he continued to peer forward at the stranger, almost unaware. "Kinda stupid too," the fawn kit muttered in his faint Spanish accent, a smug smirk lining his lips as he lifted his head, chin tilting towards the sky. His posture was erect, oozing confidence.

super rushed om g

[justify][fancypost borderwidth=0pt]It was time for a new set of weekly tasks to be given out, and it was Santana's turn to "hand" them to his clanmates. It was already decided that he would make them a bit Latino-based than anything. There were a few small events that would be easy to handle with only one person, but more of them required two, or even a whole group. His mind was swirling with ideas, and yet he was a bit anxious to say them aloud. He would have to explain every one of his assignments because most, if not all, were not Mexican, or even Spanish speakers. It was rather frustrating that there were no individuals in the clan similar to him. Most spoke another language, but not Spanish. The kit gave a roll of his eyes, a frown soon lining his lips as he picked a spot high up on a rock. "Aight, if you want a task, get over here," Santana called out, sounding a bit infuriated, but it was rather subtle. If anyone had been paying close attention, they would be able to tell. His chocolate visionaries swept the area hastily, looking out for anyone who might approach the scene. All he saw were NPC's, whom he ignored, or glared at, as if daring them to do anything. He had been particularly angry over the past few days, as well as aggressive, and for what seemed like no reason. San gave a shrug of his shoulders, not caring.

[justify][fancypost borderwidth=0pt]I'D LIKE TO REGISTER AN EVENT!
Date: 8/29/16
Type of event: weekly tasks 8/29 - 9/5
Link: here!!

[justify][fancypost borderwidth=0pt]Much like Alice, he felt completely and absolutely fine. Not that he knew if he was physically fine or not. Constantly, he felt hot, but his core temperature was rising the more he utilized his abilities. Illness had not captured him, though he had had a slight fever at one time. That had been before he gained his pyrokinesis though, so there was no reason for it to occur. It was odd. He didn't feel sick at the time, only heated and warmer than usual. Perhaps it was the summer temperature. There hadn't been much of a breeze, or even winds to carry in cool air. It felt humid, and the air was sticky. Santana had never liked humidity; it took away from his powers, though not to too much of an extent. This medical check-up would be better done that not. Santana knew it was better to be safe than sorry, as much as he wasn't a fan of doctors or medical practices. If he could recall, he didn't remember there being any doctors or even nurses within the gangs. They were left to mend one another, and if they didn't know what to do about the injury, they left it to heal on its own, if it even did.

San approached the scene rather leisurely, paws dragging somewhat against the ground. He was trudging along until he neared the general area, not particularly pleased or satisfied with those who were gathered. The fawn kit strayed to the sidelines, avoiding those he wasn't fond of, simply giving them cold stares from his peripheral vision. Rather than focus on them any longer, he turned his full attention to Sola. She was a pretty individual, but beyond that, he didn't care much for her. He had no set opinion on her, other than she was seen with Finnishwars and Malkyn, one of which he didn't like. "Hola," San addressed everyone in his native tongue, not saying anything beyond that.

[justify][fancypost borderwidth=0pt]Joiners frequented their borders quite often, but he couldn't recall a time where he had been the one to greet them before anyone else. Suga was usually the one to address anyone who gathered at the scent lines. It was quite frustrating to see him practically everywhere. It was the same with a few other individuals, but as much as he disliked them, he didn't hate them. He was certain many thought that, but their assumptions were incorrect. Santana was merely infuriated almost all the time; it was an emotion he couldn't quite control anymore. At times, there was simply a bout of it that lasted for a short period, or an elongated one. For now though, he was in a rather mellow state of mind, which, for Suga, was a good thing. As he approached, rather leisurely, he moved to stand close to where the silverblood was positioned, though avoided him as much as he could. "Ay, yo," Santana greeted the femme standing on the other side of the invisible barrier.

[justify][fancypost borderwidth=0pt]The Cartel must have wronged them, because otherwise, they wouldn't have been planning on a raid on them. SunClan, while being ProClan, was tough and resilient, and they wouldn't let some backwater group. If the Cartel thought SunClan was going to back off, they were in much trouble. Santana, unfortunately, could not attend this raid, considering his age. Even now he knew that his gang would look down at him for attempting to join a fight. Even when he had belonged to the gang, he was forbidden to battle other groups. They were merciless and cruel, and even because of his young age, they would attempt to murder him too. San was simply forced to stay on the sidelines, hidden away from their adversaries' sight. He could only give a silent 'good luck' in Spanish to those who had already gathered, feeling a bit jealous that they had the chance to fight. Meanwhile, he was forced to remain in their camp, in territory.

[justify][fancypost borderwidth=0pt]soooooooo i feel like santana doesnt really have a personality? what do you guys think of him or his personality? like what do you pick up on? does he seem like,,,, the same in every post or?? idK WHAT TO DO JDHNDKJNS AND im sad because i really like santana but i feel like im not really doing well with him please send help thnk u sm

[justify][fancypost borderwidth=0pt]so we can make more than one entry?

The territory had yet to be discovered beyond the many colorful houses on the cliff side, and besides the basics of the domain beyond the homes, they knew little of it. There was a forest, thick with trees and shrubbery, as well as much wildlife from what Santana had seen. Aside from that, there was also a mountain range, where the peaks seemed to scrape the skies. He was certain that others within the clan were itching to explore, as was he. Discoveries were to be made, and eventually, their territory would soon be explored. It would take time, but they would find everything in time. Some were better at searching than others, so some landmarks would be more difficult to find.

With a hum to himself, he approached the scene, tilting his chin up to better peer at Jericho through narrowed optics. The chance at winning a contest sounded intriguing, and if he won, he'd be more than pleased with himself. He would get to boast, and brag, and generally be self-absorbed. If anyone thought otherwise then he'd act aggressively towards them. Santana grinned at the leader as he continued to announce the contest. He had no questions, but he was sure that when others asked inquiries, then he would want to know the answers. With a glance towards Noelani, the male gave a slight roll of his eyes as she scurried away. She had hardly paid attention. "Pendeja," San muttered under his breath, attention soon shifting back to Jericho. He remained on his paws, ready to leave, but he remained in case the leader had anything else to say.

[justify][fancypost borderwidth=0pt]Despite what they thought, he wouldn't be that cruel to them, even if he wasn't fond of those who had approached, aside from Ulyssa. He didn't know her well enough to have a well-formed opinion on her. From what he had seen, however, she didn't seem all too bad. As they approached, all of his ideas and assignments seemed to escape him, and thus he was left standing there rather rigidly. He frowned to himself as he stared down at Finnishwars, feeling revolted by their presence. Not only were they a hellhound, they were absolutely...boring. They never seemed interested in anything, which caused him to get riled up. It seemed he was always in some sort of irritated state, which was an annoyance in itself. Santana wore a frown as he attempted to think. "Aight, Finn, hombre, make a piñata, get some people and beat the shit out of it," the fawn kit told him, pausing briefly. "Ah, and don't forget to put some goodies in it. That don't mean blood or guts, cabrón. Candy, food, cutesy prizes." San shifted the weight on his paws as he added on the information, knowing that Finn would have taken it the wrong way. They probably thought he was stupid. They were wrong.

His chocolate gaze then turned to Violet, who had approached moments after Finnishwars. At the nickname, he outwardly grimaced and shot the male a glare, obviously displeased. "Don't call me that, pendejo," Santana snapped at him, tone practically dripping with distaste. He straightened after the harsh comment, chin tilted towards the sky now. "Make tres leches. It's a cake made with three kinds of milk," he stated, inwardly sighing as he realized he might have to aid Violet in the process of creating the pastry. "If ya need help, you can ask, but...eh," San trailed off, sounding rather bitter as he finished addressing the diva greyhound.

It was now for Alice, as well as Suga. Though he didn't much mind Alice, his opinions for Suga were widely different from the female. Briefly, he pondered what the two of them could do together. It reminded him of a holiday, one with a cake and a baby. Before he spoke the task aloud, he thought about it for a moment, being sure he knew all the facts of the holiday. Because he hadn't been alive to properly celebrate it, he only heard of the celebration from the gang he resided in. His memories of them were near crystal clear, though, so he had no trouble sifting through his thoughts to find it. "Roscón de reyes. You make a cake, and inside one of the pieces, ya put a little baby figure. Whoever gets the piece with the baby is the 'Rey'. The king," Santana said with a bob of his head, satisfied with his choice in tasks.

Finally, the last to be spoken to was Ulyssa. He flashed the sickly kitten a grin, and kept the look upon his features as he thought of a new assignment to give her. Santana nearly hopped up from his position, but kept himself grounded enough. "Find some skulls and paint 'em. Give 'em nice designs, like colorful shit and flowery stuff," the sunguard told her with a flick of his tail. Sugar skulls, essentially. They would be more prepared for the Dia de los Muertos he had planned too.

[justify][fancypost borderwidth=0pt]screams into the abyss i need thirst for art and cute lil pixels so cute(tm)
his description is below eXCEPT can you add some of the tattoos he has? an example is his avatar but i can get others for ya if u need em ;^) the little bouncy thing would be adorable too ok bye
oop and can it be in style 2 por favor? gracias mi amigo :'^)

[justify][fancypost borderwidth=0pt]breathes in
i love them sm omg i knew it would be difficult to get the tattoos bc they super intricate and cover like,,, all of him so do nOT worry about that!!!! i love them sm thank u,,,,

[justify][fancypost borderwidth=0pt]"You guys act like tres leches is so fuckin' hard to make. It ain't," Santana stated with a harsh snort, peering forward at the ingredients already gathered. While he hadn't made it himself, per se, he had watched and observed as his gang crafted the Mexican dessert. They made it as if they had been born baking it. San always found it fascinating to watch them work their paws and crafted beautiful cakes despite their rather bland looking appearances. "If ya need help, jus' ask. It ain't guaranteed I'll help though," the fawn kitten informed them, flickering his attention between the three gathered. He settled back on his haunches with a stiff sigh, merely observing now. He felt no need to partake in their activities. With a yawn, he tilted his chin towards the ceiling, chocolate visionaries remaining on the trio.

rushed + awful + mobile

[justify][fancypost borderwidth=0pt]Many did not seem to understand territories, and the fact that trespassing them was, essentially, wrong. Even he had known to remain on the other side of the invisible barrier before crossing it, and he had hardly known of clans or groups. He was fortunate enough to stumble upon SunClan, and not some other group. They had been welcoming, despite his rather snarky and sarcastic attitude. Now he couldn't even pick between who he liked or disliked. Most were people he had grown an immense dislike for, or was at least irritated by. Duskmire was the sole, singular person he enjoyed being around, but the male was hardly to be seen now. As far as he knew, he resided in SkyClan more often than he did in SunClan. If anything, he visited their group to see Jericho, and perhaps himself. Santana couldn't begin to comprehend why Dusk would want to witness the leader, though. The pair only seemed...close. He didn't at all suspect any romance beneath the awkward exteriors of both males.

"Uh, does our territory look like a fuckin' free-for-all?" Santana questioned aloud, completely rhetorical as he shot the foreigner a harsh glare. He didn't care that this 'Judith' person belonged to an ally, not that he knew of SeaglassClan to begin with. The fawn kit's gaze observed the female as she called for Nurseryrhyme, who seemed to be a popular individual regarding outer beings. There had been that Exiler, and now Judith, from wherever she came from. He didn't have the knowledge of her whereabouts, and therefore, he couldn't find it in himself to care. "I'm pretty sure she just said that, pendejo," San commented in Suga's direction, giving a roll of his eyes and a stiff sigh through his nose.

[justify][fancypost borderwidth=0pt]He had only heard of ThunderClan when Jericho mentioned the group when he suggested an idea regarding an allied event. Now that he was able to fully introduce himself to one of their individuals, he would be able to know what they were generally like. He imagined them...dull, but amiable enough to be considered kind and generous rather than boring. Santana would be shocked if his assumptions were correct. More often than not, his opinions were biased, or based on another's individual thoughts, until he was able to form some for himself. He had to think briefly on what clans, or rather, allies he had met. SkyClan was the first to come to mind, seeing as how he was an ambassador alongside Duskmire for the mountainous group. They were rather hospitable, though he thought differently of their leader. He only caught a glimpse of her, but from what he had gathered, she was rather...stoic and intimidating.

Women were terrifying: any and all of them.

The kitten practiced his pyrokinesis as he wandered idly along the border, checking every so often to be sure no adversary or predator lingered nearby. His skills had become more adept, almost to the point of near perfection. That was what he thought of his abilities at least, and Chutriel only fueled the cocky attitude he usually bore. Before he noticed the ThunderClanner, and two of his fellow clanmates, he had focused solely on the small flame he produced before his eyes. The light pouring from the fire burned bright in his chocolate oculars, making them appear lighter in color, as well as softer. It all ceased when he glanced up, spotting the ThunderClanner, Suga and the somewhat unfamiliar femme. Santana yawned as he approached, extinguishing the flame with ease, barely even a thought. He seemed to have arrived when they had been speaking of a rather touchy subject, one he didn't understand, nor did he particularly care to comprehend either. "Do somethin' about it if it bugs you so much. Don't stand 'round complainin' about it, esa. It's annoying, bro," Santana stated rather flatly, blunt in his choice of words as he spoke to Whitedove. He gave a roll of his eyes before his gaze settled on Frostbite. "Gracias, amiga."

[justify][fancypost borderwidth=0pt]Unlike the others, who seemed to know what the hell a courier was, Santana had no previous knowledge on the topic. Anything he had learned had been based around gang life, as well as Mexican culture, and the Spanish language. Whatever his gang members, whom he considered family, had known they had passed down to him, thus his knowledge was somewhat limited compared to most. There were some differences, however, that were better suited for himself in comparison to his clanmates. For example, he knew much about his own culture, therefore, if he wanted, he had the ability to instruct others on Latino traditions, and customs. However, he doubted they would care to learn anything about him, or his culture, seeing as how they were all too self-absorbed. It was hypocritical coming from him, but he ignored that, or didn't seem to see it in that way at all.

Couriers were still things he didn't understand, nor had he known about them previous to this encounter. He was a bit apprehensive and reluctant to even approach the male at the border, asking if they needed anything. It was odd for anyone to so willingly seem to give up their service for what seemed like no reason. Santana furrowed his nonexistent brows as he approached, chocolate visionaries narrowing upon the foreigner. "What the hell is a courier?" The sunguard questioned, query blunt as he spat it in the direction of 'Six'. "Aléjate rara.." His voice trailed off as he sent the stranger a stare, facial features, for the most part, blank.

"I don't think I'll be needin' any help though, hombre," Santana eventually informed, giving a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders to the male standing opposite to those gathered. The border was constantly buzzing with new individuals, and Six was no exception to that. Some people, however, found it in themselves to simply barge into another clan's domain without any reasoning. That irked him greatly. Fortunately, the one at the border had not done such a thing, merely gave his reasoning for being there. Why would anyone so willingly give themselves up? San didn't comprehend that, nor did he want to either. The kit frowned as he observed Six, soon tearing his gaze away to create a flaming figure on the toes of his paw pad. He seemed occupied with watching the fire dance along his skin rather than anything else in the area.

[justify][fancypost borderwidth=0pt]heyy semi-late reply lmao
the thing about him showing other emotions - well,,,, im waiting for his teenage-adulthood to show them off bc i have a plot reserved just for that. i mean?? he does feel sad and happy, he just has difficulty displaying them because of his past i guess?? for happiness he just acts all self-satisfied and being upset translates into frustration and anger for him lmao im sorry he seems so bland ;w; also it's partly me bc im like 'ok,,,, being angry or chill which one fits the situation' so basically two sides

i cOULD TOTALLY DO THAT!!!! he is v uncomfortable around malkyn and finn so ;^)) more religious aspects comin' yo way aaaand yes i do. the demon he has "inside" him is developing him for the plot i have and its gONNA BE ANGST but its like in his adulthood so i have to wait a while :I

bless thank u,,,, i try so ha r d i'll try to sift through emotions but no guarantees bc sweats he isnt the kind of person to let his guard down especially around people he doesnt even like lmAO
and yes there is a reason!! part of it is because of his past and part of it is because he is developing anger issues. his past really shaped him so thats why he's so "set in his ways" i guess?

[justify][fancypost borderwidth=0pt]The scent of blood was thick as he continued further down his makeshift path. The copper tang was revolting, but it only grew stronger the closer he walked towards it. Regardless of whether he had been around blood much during his younger months, he was still disgusted by it, mostly the smell. The sight of it didn't bother him much at all. If anything, he thought the crimson liquid looked pretty despite the grim, gorey reasoning behind it being splattered across the scenery. He never quite understood why anyone felt the need to fight, even if he sometimes itched for a battle himself. More often than not, however, he saw fighting as pointless, and wars even more so. There were constant wars waging within the few blocks of the city the gangs owned. It seemed that every gang within the section were adversaries. Only temporary alliances were made, if any. Competition was a difficult feat to overcome, but his gang had come out on top more often than any of the other groups. Their methods were precise, and not particularly violent, or malevolent. Not only were they precise, they were effective and effecient. The same could not be said for SunClan's enemies.

When he finally stumbled upon the scene, his eyes widened in the slightest degree. Blood coated the area, and the corpse in the center of it all was cut up, littered with triangles and the number three. "¿Qué chingados?" Santana muttered the question to himself as he narrowly avoided a large puddle of the thick crimson liquid. Mentally, he couldn't help but gag; the rest of him, however, remained infuriated and disgusted with the display. If he had known this was a "prank", he would have lost it. Perhaps he could rid the area of the evidence. The space would simply appear burnt rather than bloodied and symbol-filled. Unfortunately, San did not understand the reasoning behind the number, or the triangles, or the message left behind. Whoever did scrawl the phrase onto the tree was fucked up, that was certain. Santana's eyes squinted as he peered up at the message, a snarl forming on his maw.

[justify][fancypost borderwidth=0pt]In his young life, he had experienced much, though none of what he witnessed was to that extent. Whatever Malkyn had gone through, herself, would have made him feel as though he had undergone nothing in comparison. However, everything he had seen was never anything that directly affected him. None of his gang had died or been murdered. Injured was something common, so after watching wounds be made countless times over left him unaffected by all the violence. It all seemed normal to him. Even now, he was completely unfazed by it, unless it was a gruesome sight he had yet to see. Battles were different; they contained injured soldiers and bloodied corpses. Self-infliction, suicide and cannibalism left him sick to his stomach, and he couldn't comprehend why anyone would want to partake in any of those. He had not experienced depression, or any mood disorders relating to suicidal thoughts, and cannibalism was just...a topic he wished to avoid. Whenever he saw Malkyn, though, she was either hurting herself, or acting stoic and indifferent. What had she undergone to become that way? Santana's questions wouldn't be answered. He knew his place and when not to question certain subjects and topics. There were, however, dumbasses without filters, never knowing when to quit or shut up.

The yacht was somewhat small, especially with a group as large as SunClan. Malkyn made it difficult to maneveur properly because of her size in comparison to everyone else. Her frightening sight was enough to make him steer clear of her at all costs, and her huge stature was only the icing on top. His gaze flickered to the elephant-sized hellhound, inwardly cringing and shaking like a leaf. A shiver ran down his spine as he observed her, blood sprouting from her leg. Not only was she sent up from hell, she didn't know when to stop. Santana clenched his jaw as he hopped up onto four paws, wary. "I wouldn't get too close, hombre. She ain't right in the head," the fawn kit warned in a thick Spanish accent, not bothering to sugarcoat his voice.

All of these SunClanners were either too trusting, or too stupid. He didn't understand why they would so willingly approach and sit down beside someone who was clawing and gnawing at their own flesh. The sunguard gave a stiff, exasperated sigh and roll of his eyes as he sat back on his haunches, now watching apprehensively. Santana didn't trust the femme, nor did he trust the two flocking to her.

[justify][fancypost borderwidth=0pt]Meet and greets were simple enough to participate in, and that made this one especially easy as well. This one, however, needed the participation of the whole clan, regardless of if all of them partook in the event or not. Anyone who showed was guaranteed to give an introduction and supply some facts that were unnecessary, at least to him. Either way, he just didn't care for these people. They were nothing like his gang. Those people, however, were in his past now, and he didn't understand why he continued to linger on it, especially since he was able to do what he wanted. Those who had cared for him had also held him back, and even now they continued to do just that. The longer he thought of it, the more it made him bitter and aggravated. People thought they could control him. Santana could only think of how wrong they were. Regardless, he missed them greatly.

As he approached the scene, sporting a frown, he moved to take a seat near the crowd, though not too close. His necklace clung to his chest, and it felt like it was sticking to his skin. Perhaps it was pushing into him, sensing the demon residing within him. As religious as he was, he didn't seem at all affected by the fact that Chutriel was there. The demon hardly did anything except fuel his pyrokinesis, and subtly, his personality and aggravation. He would more sooner lash out at someone, burn them perhaps, than make an actual friend or acquaintance. Santana merely shifted back further on his haunches, slumping down. His head, however, lifted, chin tilting towards the sky. "Name's Santana. Sunguard. I got some fire powers. I got here like three weeks ago or somethin'. Ain't much else to say," he introduced in a rather choppy manner, seeming a bit out of focus. His chocolate gaze moved between those gathered, but it never settled on one individual in particular.

[justify][fancypost borderwidth=0pt]track
+ weee ok school started 3 weeks ago and im strugglin' a little bit so that may slow down my activity + im going out of town this weekend so im gonna be confined to mobile, even tho im pretty much always on mobile,,, howEVeR i'll be distracted so i wont be on as much