08-31-2011, 10:55 PM
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FANG.
OOC; Fang is in optime form, looking for a mess. Set at Pictou Falls.
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The large male was in his best form; optime. He had his blood red shirt on. It was always the red shirt for this personality. Always with the blood and gore. Always with the greed and sin. He didn't no for sure what he was doing here, though. The bad part about switching so abruptly was you never were quite sure what the original plan had been. Fang's dark black eyes scanned the surrounding area. If only someone were here...
He was a man whore, and he was completely proud of it. He deserved every eye on him. He deserved every girl on their knees. And most certainly he deserved to get his way. He smacked his lips, moving over toward the water. Ignoring the whole beauty of the setting sun, he instead grabbed a sharp rock off the ground and aimed at one of those little fishes no one was really sure how they'd gotten there. The rock slammed through the water, hardly slowing like most objects, and slammed right into some sort of guppy. Fang through his head back to laugh at what he'd done. He was so brilliant.
He sat down on a rock, glancing toward the rest of the world around him. Not a single sound. Sometimes Fang enjoyed the lovely silence. After all; silence had always meant rest back at the pack. And when he was there, rest hardly was given away. But now he wasn't tired. In fact he was opposite. He wanted meat. Girl or boy. Sexy or ugly. He just plain wanted to do something to assure himself that he was the best thing in the world. And as far as he was concerned, evil was the only way to give him that satisfaction.
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WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised. |
FANG.
OOC; Fang is in optime form, looking for a mess. Set at Pictou Falls.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The large male was in his best form; optime. He had his blood red shirt on. It was always the red shirt for this personality. Always with the blood and gore. Always with the greed and sin. He didn't no for sure what he was doing here, though. The bad part about switching so abruptly was you never were quite sure what the original plan had been. Fang's dark black eyes scanned the surrounding area. If only someone were here...
He was a man whore, and he was completely proud of it. He deserved every eye on him. He deserved every girl on their knees. And most certainly he deserved to get his way. He smacked his lips, moving over toward the water. Ignoring the whole beauty of the setting sun, he instead grabbed a sharp rock off the ground and aimed at one of those little fishes no one was really sure how they'd gotten there. The rock slammed through the water, hardly slowing like most objects, and slammed right into some sort of guppy. Fang through his head back to laugh at what he'd done. He was so brilliant.
He sat down on a rock, glancing toward the rest of the world around him. Not a single sound. Sometimes Fang enjoyed the lovely silence. After all; silence had always meant rest back at the pack. And when he was there, rest hardly was given away. But now he wasn't tired. In fact he was opposite. He wanted meat. Girl or boy. Sexy or ugly. He just plain wanted to do something to assure himself that he was the best thing in the world. And as far as he was concerned, evil was the only way to give him that satisfaction.