Posts by cyrus.

much to his own distaste, he could tell his face lit up at the appearance of damion. stupid face, showing off what he didn't particularly want broadcast - liking (in any sense of the word) anyone was a weakness, and he already had more than enough weak points between his kids and siblings and such. he was not pleased by how close he was getting to including damion on his list of weaknesses. "hi," he said, rather simply and dumbly. hi? that was all he could manage out of his fucking mouth? christ, cipher. get your shit together.

he shook the embarrassment of his simple response out of his head, instead turning to look at the collection of garments once more. "a bow tie will look good on you," he responded, his eyes drifting annoyingly back to the large frame of the lion. he forced his traitorous eyes back to the red fabrics all over his cell. "i'm thinking a cloak, probably," he said, his paws finding the piece in question. rather plain, dark red in colour - akin to a nice red wine - and with a large, slouching hood. the least plain thing about it was an ornamental clasp at the base of the hood opening, a beautiful gunmetal piece of decoration which appeared to hold the garment together.

seniorcitizen: holy shit

seniorcitizen: i feel like i am being attacked from like ever possible angle rn

seniorcitizen: also heyy dami~

seniorcitizen: damn

seniorcitizen: be still my apparently dying heart lol

seniorcitizen: ha!

seniorcitizen: i think i'd prefer if you like

seniorcitizen: carried me

jeez, rise of the fucking hybrids up in this house, huh? this house not being an actual house, of course, but the exiles as a whole. it worked, alright? between the two sheepcats he had as half-siblings and now this.... rabbitcat? exponentially speaking, there would be at least five more by the end of this week. hopefully they wouldn't all look as half-dead as this one did. shit, right, he should probably make sure the guy was okay, huh?

"dude, i would normally be all ready to demand your name and shit," he began, trotting over to stand above the collapsed creature. "but you look about two more falls away from meeting death himself, so i'm pretty sure the more pressing question is do you need help?" he asked, tipping his head to the side. it sure would be nice to see his son right about now, the kid knew more about medicine than he ever would.

shit, where were his manners? honestly, you'd think he'd been raised in a fucking barn. "crap, forgot to mention: welcome to the exiles, kid. im cyrus cipher disharmony, if names and shit matter to you," he offered a polite small to accompany his words, his icy eyes squinting closed as his smile reached them.

OLD BODY

his eyes trained pretty obviously on damion, cyrus felt himself bristle at the knowledge that sasha was thought to have been captured. who the fuck thought they could just waltz in and make off with an exiler without consequence? pretty bullshit, if you asked him. the proper demotions that followed weren't of great significance to him, barely catching his attention for long before he lost his focus to thoughts of getting right up in damion's mane and just taking a fucking nap.

promotions though, that caught his ear. with vera and sasha gone, that meant there were some spots opening up - specifically, he was rooting for his brother to take the place of deputy-warden. naranel deserved it, for sure. unfortunately, that meant sitting through the lower promotions first, though he was pleasantly surprised by some of them. his brother - the newly discovered one, that is - and his son being offered promotions? well darn, it just filled him with pride. then, to make a good day better, he was given the now empty commander position and - as he'd hoped - naranel was raised to the deputy-warden spot. "well gee dami, how could i say no to a face like yours," he responded, allowing himself to send a flirty wink at the lion in his burst of confidence.

damn, this kid was right out of it. cyrus hadn't even had his angry face on and the kid clearly was scared out of his mind just at the sight of him. he wasn't that fucking scary, was he? he could have sworn after shen returned to the underworld and his eyes returned to their regular stormy grey that the last of his fear inducing features had gone. hell, he was about two-thirds pure fluff at this point. "kid, i don't know who did.. whatever they did to you, but i ain't gonna hurt you. you look like shit, no offense, and i'm not one to kick a downed man," he said, slouching almost subconsciously in attempts to appear smaller and non-threatening to him.

he found himself stepping back a little when the kid recognized his brothers and he couldn't help but think maybe this was another half-brother of his. hell, he sure fit the fucking bill - no pun intended - to be a cipher, specifically one who could be from naranels litter. hybrid sure fit the naranel-sibling-quota, and his... obviously traumatized state wasn't far from cy's own experiences. hell, even if this kid wasn't already a sibling of his he might consider taking him in. he had a fucking soft spot for traumatized individuals, what fucking of it?

his attention was brought back when the kid started losing it over the thought of medicine, and as much as he already loved his newest brother constance, he definitely would have taken a different route. "hey hey hey, it's okay. we don't have to give you any medicine. would it be okay if we patch you up, though? just bandages or something?" he offered, stepping closer to the hybrid once more.

"man, this is why allies fucking suck," he groaned, tipping his head back in a rather dramatic fashion. honestly, a world in which the exiles had allies? he knew dystopia must be rolling in her fucking grave right now. allies complicated things, especially with the points damion was making. at the same time though, they were the fucking exiles, man! "i mean, it's not like we're known for being good people, yeah? who cares if we're fuckin' hypocrites, info on amalfi that we wouldn't otherwise get could be helpful," he countered. it was true, wasn't it? the exiles were pretty solidly the biggest assholes around, save maybe for the cartel but.. their whole shtick was a little different. "why the fuck do we even have allies in the first place? i mean, last i checked our mentality was supposed to be 'us against the world,' or are we all gathering around a fuckin' bonfire singing kumbaya now?" he added, his voice a fairly even mix of confusion and annoyance.

okay, yeah, he could totally roll with damion in a bow tie. that definitely made him feel a little funny in his chest as his heart - damn the thing - couldn't help but react to the choice. god, cipher, it's just a fucking bow tie, it's literally nothing big, but damn if it didn't look good on him.

his breath caught in his throat - literally fuck all the physical reactions he was having, by the way - when damion mentioned the color bringing out his eyes, thankful as all hell for the thick fur covering his quickly warming face. he ducked his head, using the fact that damion had suggested he put on the cloak to his advantage to hide his obviously flustered face, shoving his head through the fabric. he let the hood rest bunched around his neck, and after some smoothing and adjusting was quite pleased with the way the garment sat on his form, the dark red color against his pale cream fur providing a pleasing contrast to anyone with working eyes. "how do i look?' he asked, trying not to let himself sound too hopeful.

now, coming down to the slums where the exiles stored prisoners? wasn't exactly his favorite fucking activity. half the time the place was fucking empty, and no matter what time of year it was it was cold as shit, not that the cold got to him too much with his relatively thick fur. given that there was, in fact, currently a prisoner within the exiles, that shit all over the more prominent of his reasons for not coming down here. whatever, socialization was the same no matter who it was with, just with varying degrees of sincerity and differing levels of guarding himself.

he wasn't exactly a stranger to ptsd, hell even he had gone through the nonsensical ramblings when his daughter had died. he shuddered at the thought of how fucked up he'd been then, and even further back how fragile and damaged he'd been. sure, he still carried all that shit with him, but he had a fucking grasp on it. kept that shit on lockdown, yeah? most of his shit, anyways. he wasn't shy about the fact that his positive emotions were a little harder to keep a handle on, but that wasn't exactly the worst thing, was it? he knew it wasn't, and yet he still hated that shit.

wait, shit. he'd noticed the prisoner rambling and then immediately gotten wrapped up in his own fucking mind. how fucking polite of him. "yo," he called, forgetting for a moment that this was a prisoner and not some other exile. "i mean, uh, what the fuck is up inmate?" he corrected himself, stopping in his tracks a fair distance - easily five feet - away from the other feline.

jeez, she sounded worse than she looked. her hoarse voice triggered an involuntary raise of his eyebrows, rather taken aback by the state of her voice once raised above a whisper. ouch, right? hoarse as all get out. he recollected himself, his ears pointing forward, taking in her words. damn, she didn't even know where she was? sounded pretty shitty, if he was being honest. "yeah, why not," he said, settling into a more relaxed position, wrapping his tail around his paws neatly. "you're in the exiles, and you're a prisoner here. i don't actually know who snagged you, but damn, seems like they did quite a fucking number on you," he explained, his eyes scanning over her in her... disoriented state.

[sorry for shortness, got a headache and totally lost muse but wanted to get a response in before going to be]

there were very few things he thought had the power to give him full-on childhood flashbacks, considering his father was dead - he hoped, at least - and he hadn't seen his mother in a long fucking time. well, apparently it was family-fucking-reunion season because he'd been meeting new siblings up the fucking wazoo and now here was the aforementioned absent mother, strolling into the canyon and.. actually behaving politely? hey, what the fuck, mom? in all his time he'd spent with his mother, he'd hardly known her to be polite. sure, she'd not fucked him up nearly as badly as his father but... she'd never really been there to do so. he'd taught himself how to grow up, and what he hadn't been able to teach had been learned from other sources. this polite cerberus was nothing like he remembered her and frankly, that scared him more than it would if she'd shown up and been just the same as always.

"jeez, ma, couldn't have sent a fuckin card?" he quipped, trotting up beside icarus to stand in front of her. jeez, how awkward would it be if she didn't recognize him? he doubted that was even possible, though. he looked the same as he had the day he was born, just a little larger and a hell of a lot more scarred. still, the same in essence. that was all without mentioning how different she seemed, sure if she was being more polite to a complete stranger than he'd ever known her to be, she had the capacity to be a good mother? jeez, what a dream that would be. finally some fucking normalcy within his life, an actual parental figure from someone who was actually his parent. wouldn't that be just dandy?

[welcome back!! gonna be nice to have more of the fam around]

ooh please cy is in for a good dev thread

some points that are probably important:

- ptsd due to his father + big ol daddy issues
- wrongly idolizes his grandfather because he was the closest thing to a real father figure he had
- has attempted suicide at least 5 times
- trust issues around relationships
- definitely has an authority issue due to always being scared into respecting dystopia
- rough waters and being the center of attention are serious triggers for him
- hasn't had a panic attack in a long time tho
- loves his kids more than anything in the world
- blames himself for anything bad that happens to his family