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Comfygazing
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Posted: Mon, 31/01/2022 21:54 (3 Years ago)

Well wishes now? How odd. Cocking his head, he regarded Onix before giving them a slow cordial nod. "And the winds be your feet." He returned before stalking off. He would have to pass through the same area again to get back to where he had cached his supplies but for now, he would walk wherever his feet led him. Hopefully to a working engine or a spare bike part that he could actually use. He had too many spark plugs hoarded to actually be anything but junk without an engine to use it on. While there was still a long ways to go before his scraped together motorbike could actually be usable, it was still a pipe dream he held onto. The one goal that kept him walking through this wasteland. For now

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Posted: Mon, 31/01/2022 19:31 (3 Years ago)

"Sannie"

It was so easy to simply hold a finger over the trigger and let the bursts of bullets spit out from the barrel, soldiers falling like marionettes. Something splattered over its face and it payed no mind, only whipping around and letting another burst of lights block out whatever destruction was waiting. It was a mindless task, items not needing to think. Simply to do as they're told and to fire. There was nothing beautiful nor glorious in dancing amongst the dead, padded bare feet stepping on broken bones and empty shells.

"Sannie, come back please. We need help."

It was ever moving. Never staying still enough for bullets to bury into fur and flesh. It was as it should be, ever flowing as blood tended to do on a hopeless battlefield. There was a never ending red accompanying the shower of bullets, hailing a bleak future for both sides. Under a nest of hairpins and fabric, the delicate skin of a sensitive ear pinched by various clips and comms twitched. An order had been received and it would be heeded. Digitigrade legs skidded against the copper dust, claws scoring deep grooves as it turned on its heel and looped towards the source of the order, leaving behind an empty battlefield. A sensitive nose scented the air for the familiar taste of family and it followed the sense of safety and assurance it provided. It was a black blur, blowing past warring sides as fractured bones screamed in protest against the strain yet continued to push the creature towards its destination. There in the distance, a flicker of blue drew in the eye of anyone who looked, a helpless situation in an already dreadful environment. A hand mechanically clicked the settings on its weapon from Burst to Automatic before its arm lifted and blood painted the outside of the wavering shield. Its body twisted and bent in odd angles as it slipped through the throng of enemies to slid beside wounded allies. In a seamless movement, the clawed hand that didn't have a finger glued to the trigger came up to snap off one of the various rows of pouches strapped onto its body, digging into another pocket to reload the gun.

As the chaos began to wind down around them, it spared a glance for the group it was protecting. White and red streaked across the mundane armor that they all wore, nothing separating them from the other. But still, they smelled of safety and it lifted one finger to point and the dense forests. They would lead away from the battlefield and the others understood it, picking up the discarded belt of pouches containing a small array of medical supplies. "They're asking for you." One of them whispered, gently tugging on its tail still wrapped firmly around its waist. "Don't get decommissioned. Please." It frowned at that. Did it slip enough that it could no longer be controlled? No, items didn't think. There was nothing to think about, nothing to feel. Paving over the worry that claws his way past the fog, it simply carded gentle claws through blood matted hair before looping away on light legs and an ever lighter body. One look back had it catching a glimpse of its family disappearing into the black trees, supporting one another as they fled from the destruction. It couldn't stop the relief that crashed over it as a path towards Blue's base was carved by a shapeless black blur, death sweeping through the ranks

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Comfygazing
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Posted: Mon, 31/01/2022 03:43 (3 Years ago)

Now that wasn't something he heard often. Names were taken by people who wanted desperately to emulate what it was like before, when the world wasn't a garbage heap of death and dust. Names meant that you either felt so strongly about yourself that you had grown attached, or that you lived with enough people that just calling them by physical markers wasn't enough anymore. He had been given the marker of Yashura, a name embroidered on the leather jacket he had scrounged up in a dust heap, wreathed around a golden hannya mask that sat snuggly on the back of the jacket. What his name had been previously, he couldn't remember. There were more things to worry about than being a named entity. So he simply turned around, facing the faceless individual in a hood and a gasmask with his own faceless visor.

"Not anymore than that beast had." He answered

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Posted: Mon, 31/01/2022 00:43 (3 Years ago)

Coughing, Alaparos wheezed as he lay on his back. His legs pulsed with pain as he forced himself to scramble up on his feet. At least he had his cane to help him up as he tried to get a good look at the bird like creature that had attacked them. Around him, his quest mates were doing... questionable things. On one hand, Dez seemed the most calm while DD (or Emika? He didn't know which name to call her by now) looked ready to either run away or dart forward and throw hands with the bird. The most mind boggling of them all was Cataneme hooting and hollering. For the daughter of a someone who held domain over Poison and Sadness, Cataneme was a whirlwind of chaos, causing more strife than Dezerae. "We could always just run?" He suggested weakly

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Posted: Sun, 30/01/2022 23:59 (3 Years ago)

Yahura hadn't seen such a weapon before. Most people didn't go for anything that delicate above ground, usually opting for heavy hitting weapons. Perhaps it was a bit hypocritical of him when his only weapon was a sharpened fishing line, but at least he was working on scrapping together a bike. Sue him for leaning into the type casting but at least people were more likely to stay away from a biker with a ride that would run them over than a biker who wandered around on foot. At the very least, whoever this person was, they weren't to be messed with. With a lazy salute, Yashura began to walk again. He did pause when the passed the fallen beast, eyeing it. The horns could be useful but ultimately he left the creature alone. He wasn't going to stay any longer than he needed to.

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Posted: Sun, 30/01/2022 07:09 (3 Years ago)

Pausing, Yashura leaned back to try and get a good look. They had said something about rocks and just a little ways off, he indeed could see a pile of them. Flipping up his visor, Yashura squinted to make out the scores of red marks on them, mirrored on the trees, and he internally winced. Yeah, that was a mess up on his part. Snapping his visor shut, Yashura rolled his eyes with a huff. "Look. I'm just passing through so chill. Mind getting out of my face? Not that I mind getting an eyeful of cute people, but I like my personal space."

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Comfygazing
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Posted: Sun, 30/01/2022 06:29 (3 Years ago)

"You shouldn't be here."

Dust billowed up before his eyes and Yashura blinked slowly. It was rare for people to meet in this wasteland, especially for them to talk with one another. Whatever this person wanted with him, it would either be very important, or mind numbingly dumb. Due to the nature of his biker's helmet, his vision wasn't the best and he couldn't quite make out who was talking to him. He didn't quite recognize who anyways. Even if he did, he would still have stood his ground, glaring down whoever was standing before him.

"And where exactly should I be?" He drawled, putting a hand on his hip. "This place doesn't belong to you. I see no tag claiming it." Cocking an eyebrow, not that Onix could see behind the visor, he began to slowly step forward to get a better look at who he was talking to.

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Posted: Sun, 30/01/2022 05:53 (3 Years ago)

Some days, Yashura really didn't want to get up

Staring at the desolate landscape, he walked through the dying grass to places unknown. The earth shook under his feet, the growls of a beast unknown throwing his balance off. Lately, the ground had rolled and split, sending unpredictable obstacles into their already unstable life. Yashura was infinitely glad that his face was perpetually covered with a biker's helmet, the black tinted one way visor shielding his eyes from any debris and dirt that had been kicked up from these ruptures. He had seen others fall into them, swallowed up by the ground and lost to the darkness when they stumbled.

Despite the bearing sun, Yashura was wrapped up in black leather and he was absolutely sweating under all of it. But what was aesthetic beauty without some pain. The few people above ground that he had meet had always called him The Desert Biker along with Yashura so that was him now apparently. A biker demon. Fun. If his past self (if he could remember who his past self was) could see him now, they would probably laugh their ass off at him. Probably

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Comfygazing
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Posted: Sun, 30/01/2022 03:51 (3 Years ago)

His leg hurt

It had been hurting for a while and occasionally a flick would be enough to send numbness running down the limb. But eventually the pain would return and he would flick his legs again.

His back hurt even more

Stretching out languidly, San read over the current battle map and he planted his paws right over a nice spot of land that he knew didn't have very many Blue soldiers guarding it. A nice little hole in their defence that Red could totally exploit. Oh no, what a disaster. San really hoped that they wouldn't exploit such a tactically advantageous area and he meowed loudly. And again, and again. As the strategist meandered over, San bapped the map furiously with his paws, smacking the same spot over and over again. Instead of moving his paws away to see what was under them, the strategist instead pushed against San's side, making him yowl in annoyance in pain as the hand pressed firmly against a still healing wound. Twisting around, San hissed and swiped at the hand only the pause at where the strategist had placed his pin. The rocky valley was where many of his fellow experiments had been stationed, a strategic and important piece of land that Blue controlled. His blood froze at the implications, red eyes transfixed on the marker that spelled the death of the small family he had built from the ground up. Each experiment had a name and a personality, had tests that they preferred over others, had dreams snuffed out too early. They were dreamers who's bodies had been warped and minds broken, heroes who's demons were inked onto their skin. But to the higher ups, be they Red or Blue or whatever faction had their grubby fingers in this war, they were just another number on the list of dead. Barring his fangs, San launched himself at the scientist with a screech, claws outstretched. He would never forgive those who wanted to hurt his family, he grimly reminded himself as he sank his teeth into soft flesh. Iron burst across his tongue and his body screamed

With gentle hands, San adjusted the straps on the parachute making sure that they were not only operational but also wouldn't hurt anyone the moment they were deployed. He knew that it would sting like hell once it opened, shoulders jerking back and air drag yanked against their gravitational decent. "Stay safe." He instructed, staring each member of his family in the eye. "If you enter a battle you can't win, run. If you have the chance to escape from this hell, do so. There is no shame in fleeing, nor is there anything wrong with building a new life for yourself. Always prioritize yourself." He waited until each person nodded their head, a satisfied smile crossing his lips. Those were blasphemous orders he was giving but he couldn't care less. He had no personal stakes on this war, his only priority being his family. If they were safe then all was well. He would be a pawn for the Higher Ups of it meant their continued and relative safety.

Ignoring the parachutes entirely, he instead went over to a rack where utility belts lined the bars. Strapped it firmly to his body, San made sure to make sure that he had all his equipment. His tail was wrapped around his waist and tucked under his shirt, ears pinned back. The first time he had jumped with those extra appendages, he had ripped a hole in his ear. Since then, he had learned that it was better to keep all hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times. Finally, he picked up a familiar set of weapons. An pair SIG SG 553 rifles were his go-to weapons as they were fully customizable in how many rounds were fired. It was a temperamental gun bit it suited him perfectly. One was quickly disassembled and its parts placed into one of his various pouches lining his waist. The other he held firmly in hand. Glancing back at his family, he gave them a jaunty salute and roguish grin before falling out of the plane

It was frightening easy to fall into a role, letting San fade away. From the moment the wind buffeted his falling body, S48A2N5 was in control letting the familiar howl of wind rush pas his pinned ears. The ground hurtled towards him and he let himself fall, fall, fall, deeper into apathy and numbness. Tucking into a ball, S48A2N5 landed on the battlefield with a sickening crunch, genetically modified muscles soaked up the shock like a sponge as screams of shock and pain punctuated the flashy landing. Dust billowed up, obscuring the vision of anyone in the immediate vicinity as the screams only grew on volume. Under his feet, a body could be seen, S48A2N5's boot having punched right through the soldier's chest and knee cracking open a now leaking skull. Red eyes glimmered through the still falling dust before the sound of gunfire joined in the chaos.

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Comfygazing
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Posted: Sat, 29/01/2022 09:45 (3 Years ago)

Why was he the leader now? Just because he suggested going to Hades didn't mean he wanted to lead this group! Burying his face in his hands, he groaned before hiking up his backpack. "Right, let's go talk with Chiron." He grumbled, moving to push past the rest. He delighted in using his cane to knock against the knees of anyone who wasn't wise enough (or fast enough) to get out of the way and made his way back to camp before a furious screech had him jump.

From the sky, a mass of feathers swooped down; claws outstretched and bloodlust glimmering in beady black eyes. The monster was easily larger than any regular bird as it screeched again, swiping at Alaparos who barely ducked out of the way, rolling on his shoulder and a very loud expletive. With a thud, the bird spread its massive wings with a caw, the sound alone weakening knees and inspiring terror. Between them and the entrance to camp was a massive bird with transfixed eyes and a rapacious beak, grayish white wings settling down to rest between the bird's back. The rest of its body was cloaked in darkness, making it difficult to discern exactly what kind of creature it exactly was.

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Comfygazing OFFLINE Forum Posts: 767	Posted: Fri, 28/01/2022 06:15 (3 Years ago)
	9/10 Well organized and aesthetic! Interesting choice of using red, blue, and yellow as the primary colors but it works well enough [Read more]

Comfygazing
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Posted: Fri, 28/01/2022 04:42 (3 Years ago)

Trotting past a sea of unfamiliar faces, San quietly sat outside of various doors and sulked as if he had been thrown out of these meetings. It was surprising how much a simple cat could get away with, simply traveling between people. They really did think that he had once belonged to one of the many dead and had no where else to go. Sometimes, if San was feeling particularly vindictive, he would sit on some important papers and slap his paw on areas that he knew wasn't being very highly controlled by Blue. Of course, he never pointed out places where his own family was stationed. He might be working for Blue but he had his own agenda.

It was also kinda funny how much information he now had. You would not believe what people let slip when they think that they're talking to a cat. Apparently the head strategist had a soft spot for cats and was always adopting strays so San was simply accepted as another one of the countless cats wandering the base. Indeed, San did make niceties with a pretty maine coon who shared some tuna with him but the most best part of his spying was simply sitting in the same room as the head strategist. It let him get an eyeful of the various maps and plans Red had at its disposal. It almost felt like cheating but San wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. After all, he didn't plan on spilling any of the beans to the higher ups. These plans would simply help make his family disappear quietly, without a trace. Missing in action so they would say, mourning the loss of multiple investments that they had made over the years.

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Posted: Fri, 28/01/2022 04:10 (3 Years ago)

The moment Asahiko stepped into the designers area, he was accosted by a frantic team. There wasn't much he could make out but from what he could understand, apparently they had thought that they had been given the female tribute and had thus styled a dress. His only response was to grin, showing off his rows of serrated grin and say: "Well? Put it on me." And so, with a little (read: a lot) of tweaking, Asahiko was fitted into a sleek crop top that showed off his toned stomach and slender arms, gauzy see-through fabric with LED lights and sequins sewn in rows draping over lanky legs. Shorts were worrn under the skirt, though they hugged his legs and was slightly uncomfortable with how tight it was. Leather gloves reaching up to his forearm were laced up and light makeup was dusted to his face. Carefully dabbing glitter onto his under-eye and swiping on lip gloss, Asahiko almost looked normal. Finishing off the combo with ankle high boots, he was picture perfect ready for the parade. It was surprisingly nice, considering that it was definitely not made for someone with his body proportions and also showed off what his district was all about. Electricity but also power. The LEDs definitely pushed the former and simply showing off Asahiko's relatively fit, if a little thin, body would send a powerful message.

As he stepped out of the dressing room, Asahiko only felt his grin widen when he saw his district partner. She was fitted in a bespoke suit that flattered her form but also showed off her toned arms. Fairy lights were woven into her hair and pulled up into a sort of up-do. It was definitely one of the better costumes the capital had designed, Asahiko had to admit however grudgingly.

On the other hand, Hwa's stylist didn't seem to put in any effort. He had taken one look at her and scoffed before throwing her a random article of clothing on the racks. Buried under a pile of leather, Hwa floundered for a moment before untangling themself. The outfit wasn't bad in the sense that there was nothing offensive about it. Sure the leather was tight and it felt weird to be wearing such a low cut vest but that was it. It was inoffensive. It showed off nothing that was District 11. Dirty, maybe but what kind of designer would go for that angle? The fur around their shoulders felt more like oversized chaff and when she voiced her complaints, the designer snapped back that it was exactly what he was going for.

Pulling the outfit on, they were delightfully surprised to see that they fit the outfit quite well. It wasn't as outrageous as she had originally thought but it still didn't fit the theme of representing her district. Fumbling with their hair, Hwa clumsily pulled it up into a ponytail. The other stylists were much too busy to apply any makeup on the tribute so she simply sat down and waited

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Posted: Thu, 27/01/2022 21:17 (3 Years ago)

Letting out a sad little murp, more so at the loss of pets rather than Chip actually having to leave, San rubbed his head against the humans legs. Letting his scent longer, a marker for him to exploit later should be ever run into the peculiar human that had stopped in the middle of a battlefield to let a cat at a later date, San let himself bask in the attention a little more before flicking the humans's ankle with his tail. With that parting gift, San trotted away heading deeper into Red territory. His limp seemed a little more pronounced, an unfortunate payoff for engaging in combat before he had healed his already fractured his legs when he had jumped out from the helicopter. Not really his brightest moment but he never claimed to be very intelligent as a cat.

As he finally reached the base, San could see someone in a mask sitting by the gates. Meowing loudly, he meandered over to her and sniffed. She didn't smell injured so he simply rubbed his cheek over her arm before proceeding to the gate. There wasn't quite enough space for him to squeeze through but it wasn't like that would stop him. One by one, his joints popped and shifted, dislocating them as he stepped through the metal. His shoulders was the hardest and he had to wiggle a bit. He had always been top heavy anyways.

Once he made it through the gate and his joints had popped back in place and San took the time to carefully groom his dirtied and ruffled fur. He met Grimm's eyes through the bars of the gate and for a moment the car almost looked smug. It was like the cat was gloating but that couldn't be possible. It was just a cat. Turning tail, San meandered into the compound looking for anything that he could possibly read or gain information from

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Posted: Thu, 27/01/2022 20:20 (3 Years ago)

There was someone who was calling for it. Sniffing the air, the cat gently nudged one of the unmoving bodies. It smelled dead and the cat let out a small mournful mrowl before trotting over to whatever was calling it. It was a human, one that was alive and uninjured by the smell of it. Sniffing around the outstretched hand, the cat purred though the sound seemed to be heavy vibrations which shook the cats chest more than any sound. Tangling its body between the humans legs, the cat meowed happily. It always lavished under the attention humans gave it, delighting in the bliss that came with pays on the head or scratches behind the ear. Stretching up to butt its head against the offered hand, Chip could see that embroidered along the thick collar was a name: Sanshine

As San, or Sanshine as his collar so delightfully suggested (he would murder whichever higher up thought it was funny to combine his civilian name with sunshine of all things), pampered himself with affection, his more human mind slowly coming back online to better guide his feline body, he could hear the familiar tell tale sounds of someone drawing closer. Black ears flicked up and San stepped away just as a Blue soldier charged at the pair wildly brandishing a knife. At a glance, San couldn't identify them so he felt no guilt at launching himself at his own ally with a yowl. Sharp fangs found a home buried in soft flesh as San sank his teeth into a vulnerable neck, claws coming up to scrabble at the soldier's shoulders. Occasionally, they would draw angry red lines of blood along the sides of the neck. It was a gruesome and bloody affair, one that San took no pleasure in as he was battered and bruised in the soliders attempt to pry him off, but it was undeniably effective when the Blue soldier finally went down with a wet gurgle. Primly washing his paws of the blood splatter, San meandered back to Chip, acting as if he hadn't just murdered an ally

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Posted: Thu, 27/01/2022 18:42 (3 Years ago)

It was frightening easy to fall into a role, letting San fade away. From the moment he ran off the aircraft, S48A2N5 was in control letting the familiar howl of wind rush pas his pinned ears. The ground hurtled towards him and he let himself fall, fall, fall, deeper into apathy and numbness. It felt odd not to hold anything in his hands, his body used to crashing into the battlefield and opening fire immediately, but he wasn't a soldier here. There was protocol to follow. One hand dipped into the many pockets that were strapped to his chest, affixing a sleek black choker to his neck. The light beeped once and it was all the clearance S48A2N5 needed.

Unlike the movies, transforming was not a quick process. His bones cracked and warped into shapes it wasn't supposed to, contorting his limbs awkwardly. Hitting the ground with a heavy thump, genetically modified muscles soaked up the shock like a sponge as screams of shock and pain punctuated the flashy landing. Dust billowed up, obscuring the vision of anyone in the immediate vicinity as the screams only grew on volume before S48A2N5's body made a sickening crack that reverberated even past the sounds of death and gunfire. All that was left when the dust cleared was a decently sized crater, the bodies of Red soldiers littering the perimeter. In the center of it all was an undeployed parachute and a pile of clothes.

Unnoticed in the chaos, a small black cat slipped through the feet of warring soldiers. Light in its movements despite a noticeable limp, it padded deeper into Red territory, red eyes surveying the desolate landscape. Occasionally, it let out a meow when finding injured soldiers, rubbing its sleek body over their legs before trotting away. The black collar marked it as an owned cat, though its owner was most likely hurried amongst the heaps of corpses that only grew with each passing day

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Posted: Thu, 27/01/2022 09:43 (3 Years ago)

With gentle hands, San adjusted the straps on the parachute making sure that they were not only operational but also wouldn't hurt anyone the moment they were deployed. He knew that it would sting like hell once it opened, shoulders jerking back and air drag yanked against their gravitational decent. "Stay safe." He instructed, staring each member of his family in the eye. "If you enter a battle you can't win, run. If you have the chance to escape from this hell, do so. There is no shame in fleeing, nor is there anything wrong with building a new life for yourself. Always prioritize yourself." He waited until each person nodded their head, a satisfied smile crossing his lips. Those were blasphemous orders he was giving but he couldn't care less. He had no personal stakes on this war, his only priority being his family. If they were safe then all was well. He would be a pawn for the Higher Ups of it meant their continued and relative safety.

San almost didn't want to put on a parachute. Years of the same thing got kind of old and he was tempted to test out if it was really true if cat's always landed on their feet. But still, he took one of the backpacks and strapped it firmly to his body. His tail was wrapped around his waist and tucked under his shirt, ears pinned back. The first time he had jumped with those extra appendages, he had ripped a hole in his ear. Since then, he had learned that it was better to keep all hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times.

Finally, San did one last check. There was a nervous energy that permitted the helicopter, a natural occurence as he gave the ones that looked almost sick reassuring smiles. His physical condition was pretty good too. Just some aching in his back and dull throbbing along his wrists, but nothing he wouldn't push past. Finally, he gave each member of his family a dazzling smile and a thumbs up. It was show time

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Posted: Wed, 26/01/2022 20:26 (3 Years ago)

There was a heavy uncomfortable silence from the corner of the aircraft where all of the experiments sat. Some of the younger one especially looked almost stricken with fear and San immediately slid out of his seat, Ignoring Jordan, he instead focused on running clawed hands through the hairs of each experiment and bumping his head against their shoulders. Broken coos tumbled from his lips and a soundless purr shook his chest, sounding downright haunting and creepy as the only sounds that were even vocalized were sharp hisses of air that whistled past loose muscles and sharp teeth. While the vocalizations could have come from a horror movie, the others seemed to relax at it as the associated comfort that came with the sound settled into their bones and settled their minds. It was achingly intimate as San moved from person to person, especially for such a dingy setting, but he was willing to take the fall for it. He would do almost anything to give his broken and freakish family somewhere to be themselves again because what were they if not children who had grown up too fast too soon, kids who just yearned to have their innocence back. For some, they still clung desperately to the fact that they had yet to take any lives and San would bloody his own hands (paws? he wasn't sure anymore) to keep it that way. They didn't need a posh pansy who had grown up in an idyllic ignorant life that each one of them envied tell them otherwise.

Oh yes, ask the lab rats if they have ever kept up with the outside world. Ask them if they have known anything outside of stark white walls and rusted scalpels. But never ask them to be human because they were nothing but freaks of science and madness. Barely anything more than machines

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Posted: Wed, 26/01/2022 20:04 (3 Years ago)

Name: Yashura
Age: 21
Gender: Ostensibly Male. He just doesn't care enough about gender to consider it much
Sexuality: Gay but in the "I find guys more aesthetically appealing than girls" kind of way
Aboveground or Underground? Aboveground
Personality: Yashura doesn't like socializing much and often keeps to himself, preferring to indulge in personal hobbies rather than the matters of the world. He is awful at communicating his thoughts though. He is calculating and distrusting, disregarding the words of others with an expressionless and unfriendly face but loves rarely and fiercely, his attitude comparable to a dragon defending to the death his treasure.
Backstory: He has long forgotten his real name and has simply taken on the name that everyone has taken to calling him (TBRPed for now [aka im too lazy to write one atm])
Preferred Weapon: A fishing line that has been improvised into a Garrote Wire
Password: Hm... Does Star Wars count? If not, the Dune

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Posted: Wed, 26/01/2022 18:27 (3 Years ago)

San let the prevarication roll off his back seamlessly, displaying his sharpened teeth as he grinned. Picture perfect image of innocence, really. It was like looking at a cat who had just pushed a glass of water off the table, all while looking directly at his owner as he did so. All smug satisfaction and the knowledge that there was nothing you could have done to stop him. Still, his little nickname threw San off guard and he glanced at the other experiments for explanation. Hesitantly, he brought his right hand up to pinch outwards from his cheeks, miming whiskers, before tapping under his eyes. Immediately, the rest of them looked away as if they were guilty and San was left floundering before a firm hand on his thigh settled him. "They changed your eyes. It's red now and kind of like a cat's. You know, with vertical pupils and everything." The girl from before explained softly, who up till how had acted as his voice for the rest of them. "I'm sorry, Sannie. I know that you liked them."

To say that San liked his eyes was a bit of an understatement. It had been one of the last physical markers that he was still, in some aspects, human. He still had other markers but they were few and far between. To have even his eyes taken from him hurt and the sudden slump of his shoulders was the biggest sign of this. Still, his hands moved even if there was a bit of a pout on his lips. "M'not rude. You just seemed uncomfortable." The girl spoke, keeping her eyes on San's hands, having to stifle her laughter and some of the signs. "If anything, you're the rude one, baldy. Receding hairline got you early, huh."

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