Posts by Lilias.

using something from the template thread!

Roman was getting used to this uneven pattern. Tick tick, thump.His lone foreleg was probably going to get joint damage, but he never thought that he would grow old enough to care. Wandering in here, however, made him afraid that he would eventually suffer something. The trees towered over him in the most comforting way, unlike the unnatural spires and angles of buildings. The overhead canopy adopted a soft green-gold glow, while the forest floor was warm and dappled with sunspots. He was starting to think that he'd never feel safe again, but here he was, feeling his ears lower and his eyes droop. He didn't know whether it was a good thing or not. It was generally bad to let your guard down in a foreign land, but what bad could happen here? The thought made him alert again and he quickened his pace.

Yes, he had a goal in mind. But this didn't seem to be a place that he would be in. Perhaps want to be, but Roman would assume that a lot of people would like to be here. It was just too unnerving to have such assured security in this little woodland paradise. He thought he knew his comrades well enough that they would immediately leave, but it really did seem like he was here. The overwhelming smell of a marker made him pause. He wouldn't think to claim such an Arcadia, but perhaps it was better to. Up ahead he could spy little flowers nestled in the dirt path he was walking. He sat down. If the scent was this powerful, surely someone would come along soon.

losteyes old acc. changed his name!

To birds born in a cage, flying is a sickness. Roman liked the city just as much as everyone else did: barely. To describe it again, it was a forest of concrete and glass. The sun never dared to touch down, and when it did, a smell rose up out of the sewers, so miserable it made you wish that the horrible rains from last week would come again. But when it rained, the drains flooded again and cars would splash their oily tire-water against you if you dared crawl out of your shelters to eat the sodden trash and rats. It wasn't like they were suffering in good company either. Living in the man-made hellhole had made all the creatures cynical, but no one had left yet. Roman assumed staying with the assurance of food and a roof over your head was at least better than trying to leave and being homeless in the city. He thought he had explored the whole thing, but really, who knew how far it stretched for?

And then Lance left.

It wasn't like anyone but few missed him, and the lack of presence was not noticed by the city, with its already overcrowded population of wildlife and humans. But Roman noticed and did. He hadn't been around when the pale feline had announced his leave. It was something that he regretted but didn't have time to mull over. Nobody had time in the damned city to think about anything. He survived for a few more days, then left as well. Unlike Lance, he'd given everyone he at least appreciated a warning. Tracking was easy. Following the smell of rust and fumes across the countryside was not hard, even with how old it was. He envisioned what he would do to the cat when he saw him. Did he travel all the way there just to ask him how and/or why? Would he try to drag him back to that Gehenna? Neither.

He imagined that he and Lance were close, but he couldn't always tell what the other was thinking. They had just worked together, sometimes chatting, but mostly for completing a mutual purpose. Then he left. It wasn't that much of a surprise. Despite a cold shell, Lance was strong enough to escape. But Roman missed him. Perhaps it was him just being selfish. Lance was skilled in what he did, and a tactician to match Roman. And he left, without a word. Roman allowed himself to feel the slightest bit of betrayal at being dumped to face the city without him, useful as everyone else was.

And here he was, finally, trying and failing to keep his detached manner. Roman matched his steady green gaze with honey-brown ones that narrowed upon his surprised words, though they didn't seem like it. He dipped his muzzle down, taking in this new scent of him. It smelled unfamiliar, unconcerned, and unfair. "Yes, hello. Are you glad to see me?" Such a cliche phrase, but Roman was genuinely curious. Sure, he was grateful to see his face again. "You left." He decided to participate in the rhetorical. This was petty, he finally decided. He shook his head. "I understand." he added, giving him a small smile. "Do you like it here?" he inquired again, tilting his head. If it was good enough for him it was good enough. He would stay here. After all, he had left the city and wasn't planning to go back. Why not room with another comate? He still didn't trust this place, though he figured it would start to sink it. His words weren't meant to mock or scorn, Lance would know. His expression was warm, but he held back as if it was all he could manage at the moment.

GENERAL

Roman Hawksworth / Male [He/Him] / Demisexual

12 months / Ages realistically / NPC x NPC

The Sanctuary / Harbinger of War

APPEARANCE

LEUCISTIC FOX [MAIN/BIRTH] / HEALTH: 100% [NO INJURIES]

— Has a version of leucism that makes his pigment only partially appear, so all markings are faded. Tan "points" on his face, ears, legs, and tail, as well as a grey "saddle". Ears and legs are darkened to grey-brown. Belly, muzzle, and tail tip remain white, while the rest fades to a cream color. Honey-brown eyes. Physically built for running. Core is strong and sturdy but legs are slim. He is missing his left foreleg.

PERSONALITY

DELIBERATE, CLEVER, QUIET

— Serious and decides his actions far ahead into the future. Not really a fighter but imposing all the same. Could be called a worrywart, as he cares for individuals more than any of his ideals. An introvert, doesn't like to talk if not necessary, but can be quite charismatic if pushed. He has a brilliant mind for absorbing information and manipulation. Doesn't shy away from consequence. Can be considered creepy.

INTERACTION

Physically hard / Mentally hard / Attack in indianred

May start fights / May finish fights / May kill

Telepathy / Emotion manipulation / Memory manipulation / Super strength / Conjuration / Molecule manipulation

MISC.

— In conversation, he'll just stare down whoever's talking, with little blinking. He doesn't move a lot either.

— He's still transitioning from "brutal inner city" to "peaceful fairy garden" lifestyles.

To be in the presence of such a large creature was strangely intimidating, but it wasn't like Roman had dealt with creatures bigger than him on a daily basis. However, this monster was, to put it plainly, fucking huge. Curious, the fox limped over to stand near Frisk, his lone forepaw striking the ground hard with each step. Gone were the days of the sneaky city fox. He didn't feel like it mattered here though, with Betrayal being able to see anything anywhere. Roman's face was cool, but his brown eyes were wide in the intake of his form, not with fear but of calculation. He was civil, after all.

He turned his face upwards, stretching his nose out. Normally he didn't like rain. But here in the countryside, who wouldn't like it? The smell of the goliath was of a foggy spring day, the hills rolling and fading, the sound of raindrops on your window. The sun glinted off of Betrayal's crystals and made him squint. "You all lived in a city?" he conversationally asked, glancing from Frisk to Betrayal. Two leaders... Roman had his initial doubts of Frisk's leadership, but competence came in many forms. "I'm Roman." he added.

What was the point of Roman trying to force him back? He wasn't the type to drag others down with him, and he was already here. The memory of the city didn't make him cringe away like Lance, but he still had to pause and look back on it thoughtfully, if anyone should mention it. The forest was so much different. An air of busy contentment settled over their surroundings. Almost like humidity, it bothered Roman and made his fur rise a little. Looking at the white tom relaxing in front of him, he could see what it did. No, he wouldn't ever want Lance to go back, but he wondered if the two of them would ever truly trust it.

No. Of course not. Lance wasn't one to fear retribution for his actions, at least not visually. Roman had an inkling of suspicion that it affected him more than it seemed, but he had never gotten a chance to talk to him about it. Was it the self-consciousness of talking to a co-worker about his feelings? Or maybe it was Roman's self absorption in his own plans, knowing that Lance was fully well capable of controlling himself. Any experienced fighters had practice putting up facades and had the motivation to commit the necessary. Despite this, his runaway colleague was relieved. By the edges of his viridian eyes, the way they stared and then slid off, his own was fading.

He ignored the half-hearted joke. "Four-eyes" was actually extraordinarily intelligent, and he respected that. It was hidden under a half-crazed demeanor. Out of all the "veterans", she might have been the most obviously annoying. He tolerated the joking infighting between them, but refused to participate in it himself. One, because it just wasn't in him to snark about, but two, because he didn't want to give any of them the impression that he could be bent by humor. Of course, he was being soft right now. But there was only Lance. If he was cracking, then Roman would give himself some leeway as well. His gaze never faltered, but he replied, "As I'm happy to see you." It wasn't that obvious, so he'd say it.

While he was never one for the sarcastic banter, he respected the best fighter in the streets. He couldn't say that he suffered anything about not being closer to Lance before he left. Roman appreciated his company and support, as well as his immense talent in the art of war, but he didn't have the need to attend to him closely. It was assured that morally grey actions, such as the ones of their little patrol, had to have deep talks behind it. They knew each other well in some places, despite both's stoicism. It wasn't a surprise either, that Lance missed him. It must be lonesome to have suffered so much without another to reminisce about. He wondered if the streets would eventually become a memory for the both of them, but dismissed it. It was too large a scene, in the earliest stage of their lives. The opening set the tone for everything else; it could not be ignored.

"It's a million times better than back there." Roman nodded along with this sentiment, taking note of the gaze that wandered over to the land before replying. His first assumptions were correct: while this utopia was, well, a utopia, the guarded nature of a gangster would never leave. There were villains everywhere-- all you needed to do was look. Or maybe just opposition. Their objectives weren't always the most morally sound of choices. He made no pause before acknowledging his last question. "Of course. Why not?" he half-rhetorically wondered, then answered his own question. "About Four-eyes, did you ever miss anyone else?" Roman's question wasn't wistful, just another probe. He blinked longer this time. "I'd imagine that some of them would follow me here, like I did you." he remarked casually.

Did he miss them himself? Well, it was a given that he considered them. But they were just a patched-together gang, made up of strengths from every side. There were so many creatures here that he'd wager some of them were easily replaceable, but Lance and he? Two of the best people there were. Hard to compete with, and kill. He'd extended the invitation, but most said that they would wait and see. After all, others had much better reputations than him, that were almost as good. He had no one, helpless, to "care for" anymore. The rest of them, it was selfish, he'd given up. He'd forgotten what he was fighting for, and Lance's departure had shaken the survivalist mindset that he seemed to be trapped in. Did the other feel the same? Had he even given thought to them? He felt like it was a spur-of-the-moment decision, but Lance wasn't that unpredictable. It in and of itself wasn't of shock, it was nature of it he was curious about.

hi everyone! I have homework but my muse is through the roof rn ;_;

Roman felt the age of Betrayal in his words, and so he sat. He flicked an ear at the description of all the horrors beyond the wall, and he felt uncomfortable. It sounded familiar. A city with walls, on the outside, danger. The fox silently nodded along with the descriptions, choosing to say nothing. He ignored the his incoming thoughts ("does this diminish our own suffering?"), instead choosing to pay attention to the recollections of both. It felt a little spiritual, magical? to come from a bad city to a former bad city. His dark amber gaze stared unrelentlessly at Frisk, interest piqued. They were a child, yet didn't talk like one, didn't have the short history of one. He chose to stay silent this time, ears pricked.

oh man but Frisk is such a cool chara :O I feel like I've seen them everywhere! ig I don't have the muse to keep up one for that long

yeoo

USERNAME Zepheryn

* CHARACTER NAME? Roman Hawksworth

* POSITION WANTED? Harbringer of War

* BACKUP POSITION? Acolyte

* LEVEL OF MUSE? 6/10

Roman couldn't afford to have bad dreams. He did have them, but mostly along the lines of sleep paralysis. Thrashing about at night would call all the humans to the area, wondering why this strangely-colored fox was caterwauling in the middle of the night. Not to mention all of his enemies. He slept fearfully, but quietly.

Ferocious snarling is what made him jolt awake. He'd been half-asleep, on the way, but the growls sparked some actual fear. At first he thought that this paradise turned into a hell at night, but it was only someone's nightmares. He approached the sleep-mauling hybrid with something akin to pity in his eyes, and he stayed a good meter away from her. Despite his strength, he wouldn't be able to dodge all these unpredictable flailing claws. His face was blank, his eyes slightly narrowed, but perhaps it was instinctively cringing away from thundering paws.

Using emotion manipulation, he silently attempted to influence her, to be calm, or retrieve better memories from the back of her mind. He'd done it before, to avoid waking noisy newcomers that also desperately needed sleep. The tripod fox didn't think the same applied here, but he'd just ask her in the morning nonetheless. What other kind of people live here? It was curiosity as much as kindness that let him try to sway her to peaceful sleep instead of waking her up, as she probably wouldn't be able to talk for the terror.

Roman was... intrigued. Dating? He'd never had time for love. Maybe there were some females that had been attracted to him, but he'd ignored them in other pursuits. Forging a relationship with someone when it was probably going to break in the most devastating way just wasn't for him, as much as it hurt. But in the safe neighborhood, why not? The fox didn't think much of finding anyone special here, but it would be nice to see what others thought of him. "Why would you do this?" he amiably questioned, staring at Mitsuketa.

/male, adult, bisexual!

Roman was confused at her attempted sentence. "Mm?" he replied, hoping that it would prompt her into talking. Otherwise he stayed silent, dark gaze staying on her. Her murmur shook the ground below him, but his face remained easily neutral. He dared not speak first, perhaps for fear of disturbing the night or pressuring her. A beast like her wouldn't be frightened by small things, would she? Her reserved posture spoke otherwise, drawing her limbs inward as if he would do something. He could, but he had no motivation to. Why would he prey on the scared elephant who hadn't stepped on him yet?

Nevermind.Roman was a little surprised when she rolled onto her back, giving away her innards. Well, he was the only one in the room so it wasn't like she was surrendering on the battlefield. Still, it made him a little uncomfortable. He blinked, wondering at her liquid eyes. Had she forgotten her dream entirely? She was focused on him now, and maybe even a little amused. "Did you do that?" "Yes." he replied. He had a rising suspicion that this would be considered extremely creepy, but threw the thought away because he realized he didn't really care. "Are you alright now?" he added.

Roman was hop-walking about this new flowerbed, right in the middle of a trail. It wasn't so much a bed as it was a snake, actually. For the enjoyment of others, he was careful not to step on them. His head was lowered, but still pointing straight, ears tall. While the forest green was certainly calming, he couldn't help feel the constant edge that followed him. But the birds were chirping, the sky was humming, and he could hear voices up ahead. He quickened his pace to reach them.

Huh? They were walking, albeit very slowly. He looked at Losteyes strangely, but Roman was otherwise preoccupied. The thing was, every time Frisk's little paw lifted, there was life under it. His expression remained unchanged, but his ears were pricked as far as they could go, as if he would try to hear the rapid rate at which the flowers were growing. "How are you doing this?" he asked, lifting his head to stare intently at Frisk. Come to think of it, were the flowers on them naturally there? His dark amber eyes burned with fascination.

Despite knowing how to write, Roman had very few chances to read books. There was always room for improvement though. He wandered over, not having any books to give but still interested. The fox'd noticed the yawn at the start of Frisk's call, and now he studied the narrowed, drooped lids of their brilliant eyes. They looked drowsy. "Would you like me to host this?" he asked, tilting his head. A book drive didn't seem to be all that important. Maybe their leader could go take a nap while at it.

Roman limp-walked over, eyes turned upwards. Was that awe in his dark amber depths? This was by far the most magical place that he'd been in so far, but that wasn't saying much. All this whimsy was really dampened by the little kid screaming into the mic, however, but so far Roman wasn't that devout of a believer. He briefly wondered if any of the being here minded, provided that they existed.

Of course Roman could hear the giant hybrid paws crashing through the underbrush, after hearing them whizz by his ears again and again one night. The pale fox quietly made his way towards Jelloshots, somewhat irritated with all the noise in the otherwise tranquil forest. Relatively, he wasn't all that much quieter, though his size sure did make a difference. He hop-stepped out of a bush, his narrowed eyes the only sign of any displeasure. Immediately, the scent of alcohol hit his nose, and his nostrils flared. He searched for more, and found the scent of other creatures, many of them, that was somehow molded into one identity, even with nature. He found that amazing.

"Where were you?" His deep tone was even; he held an ever steady gaze at the wolf-lion. "Are you alright?" She was probably just tired and aching. Irresponsibility grated at his nerves, but who was he to judge carelessness in an already lackadaisical place?

Roman approached, his expression level despite the seemingly-daunting task before him. He was seven times smaller than a wolf, and only had three legs to utilize as well. The vulpine hop-stepped forwards, eyeing the swords. They were useless to him. He could not hold one in his single paw, though perhaps he could balance on his hind legs long enough. And even if he did, it would be a cakewalk to knock him over. In his mouth? To swing he would have to expose his neck at every turn.

"I'm assuming we're not using powers." the vulpine remarked to Project, shoving his nose into a helmet and flipping it so that it turned onto his head. He observed a small sword, wondering at the best way to hold it in his mouth, and if he should use one at all. Roman stared at the host, a silent question in his eyes.

not to ruin the mood but

I,,,, don't like coffee??

I got Starbucks for the first time last week and that's the only experience I've ever had