#herousanimarum

[cavaliant]

@mygrandpaistheworst @solitaryblade @herousanimarum

“Come onboard the good ship MANFROY SUCKS today and join us in helping our tiny, mysterious purple-haired captain wreak havoc over ships and kneecaps everywhere!”

[bigbluetiger]

@herousanimarum

There sure wouldn’t be any going to waste with Mordecai around…It was mind boggling to try and wrap his head around the sheer amount of food he was plowing through, and annoyingly, it didn’t really show all that much on the Tiger! It was ridiculous!

“Uh, in a…couple of marks? All this?” Linus muttered under his breath, glancing over the veritable buffet the Laguz had grabbed for himself. How had he even gotten so much at once? “You Gallians must have some crazy diets to be able to pull this off so often.

“I mean, I’m a big eater compared to most in the Fang – but, more often than not, I stick to only so much on account of having to maintain a standard with fighting…,” he responded, taking the seat Mordecai offered regardless. “I relax that a bit more with these events, but…damn, you really show me up. Don’t know if I can let you get away with that unchallenged, though.”

“Big meals make big muscles, and that makes bigger meals. That is how we Gallians get big. We need a lot of energy to transform too, so that helps us eat more.” he explained. “But there was also helping out Crimea. Some young beorcs would challenge me to an eating battle - they did not know how much Mordecai can eat!” the giant chuckled, scarfing down his 10th plate.

“That is sad though, to have to cut back on eating. But here in Askr, we do not need to hold back - there are many heroes here, so feel free to eat as you want, little beorc. ...Mordecai is, at least.” He grinned, then he picked up on that last phrase, causing a bit of tension in his face, worried for a repeat of his little Crimea friends. “If you want to battle me, I hope your belly can stretch out big like mine. You will need it. Mordecai does not like seeing friends get sick because of me.”

[jasperlion]

@herousanimarum [ l i n u s  please ]

Well, that sure was a tone he hasn’t heard from the kid before.

“Don’t know what you mean there, Alm. I pick fights! It’s what I do when there are no real fights to be had!”

There was nothing complex about it. He got bored. He found a way to entertain himself. Someone annoyed him. He made sure they didn’t do it again, unless they were fools. He got pissed off. He found someone to take it out on.

“Ain’t nothin’ botherin’ me. Just a fact of life. Sorry if it’s burstin’ any bubbles of yours, but I’m a jackass to most people outside of a special few. People are happy, and sappy, and I like to wreck it sometimes.”

“... I don’t know. Maybe you should bring this to spars instead of starting spats.” It was uncomfortable, that’s what it was — Alm never really saw much point in picking fights where there didn’t need to be any. If you got restless, you grabbed a pal and took it to the ring... right?

At least, that’s how he handled his restless bouts, if it wasn’t just beating on a defenseless dummy. Running his left hand through his hair and shaking his head, Alm sighed, then let his hand rest at his hip once more. 

“I don’t know, where’s the fun in upsetting people? Uh... did they upset you at some point?” Maybe this was one of the few things where they didn’t see eye to eye, but wasn’t ‘Black Fang’ supposed to... go after corrupt people only? He would let it slide if Linus only buggered assholes, but...

... Did Tibarn count as one? The guy seemed plenty nice to him. Maybe he should just get the story out of Linus and understand both sides before reaching a conclusion. And what about that guy that flirted with him a lot?

[bloodthirstymoonstone]

Linus (herousanimarum) wants to nail Valter in the face s̶o̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶l̶o̶o̶k̶s̶ ̶l̶i̶k̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶c̶r̶e̶e̶p̶y̶ ̶c̶l̶o̶w̶n̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶i̶s̶ please & thank you, dead men have money to burn for these simple pleasures in life

(Get Pied, Son!)

Once again, he’s too busy staring at his customer’s chest to really put forth any effort into jeering at him. 

Result: 10!

“Ohhh, you almost had me,” Valter chuckled, watching the pie land a few yards (or meters, whatever the fuck) to the right. “Suuuch a shame. Come back again tomorrow...!~”

[weiwuxiian]

Me, at ghastly hours of the day.

Template

[mygrandpaistheworst]

@herousanimarum || FINALLY SOME ANSWERS AT LAST

She wasn’t - actually expecting that answer.

But now - 

“What...do they taste like?”

[mobian-merc]

@herousanimarum

“‘Ey there doll, ya wanna play carpenter? We’ll ge’ ‘ammered an’ then I’ll nail ya,”

[bluesonofsparda]

@herousanimarum

Aged parchment soothed the devil into a pacified state as he read through the elder tome of witchcraft. Human magic, the mixing of herb and bone, was not a particular interest of his, although the allure of new knowledge was too grand. Despite this, he still found it quite pathetic how humans thought by appealing to a higher power that their spells were more likely to work. The moon and sun hardly cared for what some insignificant creature was doing upon the Earth’s surface. Humans always did have this vile illusion of grandeur about them. One had to wonder where this sense of pride originated from.

As he delved further into the text, the sounds of combat drifted through the breeze to greet his ears. Screeching of metal on metal grating on his concentration like a swatch of sandpaper. Gaze rising from the page the hybrid focused acutely on the commotion in an attempt to pinpoint it’s source. It was nearby. Closer than he’d have preferred. Standing from his spot below the mighty oak tree he rest beneath, he tucked his book into his coat. Yamato stay attached at his hip, left hand gripping their sheath tightly as he began to walk towards the rumble of combat.

In truth, Vergil had no real expectations as to what he’d find when he stepped from the park and into the hustle and bustle of the city. However, a sizable pack of demons swarming over a red-brown coated male was last on the list. He was sure that no human was foolish enough to attempt melee combat with the hordes of hell, but he was proven wrong. The human held a sizable axe in their hands and fought like a man possessed by wolves. Snarling, growling and lunging like a rabid animal. What they lacked in grace they made up for in sheer force of blows. It was as if this man had lived many years upon the battlefield with nothing but his weapon.

For a few minutes he simply observed from his distanced location, only dispatching the brave creatures that thought it smart to target the devil. Yet as the minutes ticked by it was clear that the endless tidal wave of demons was wearing the warrior down. Not via his energy as one would expect, but by landing unceasing blows. They piled over him like ants swarming fresh fallen food. It was but a matter of time until the human was left as nothing but ribbons of flesh and loose entrails. Perhaps the extended time he had spent with his brother left him soft, but Yamato was released from their confines and in short order slicing through what was left of the demonic beasts.

Light steps paired with flowing and largely graceful swings of the blade easily dwindled what little was still standing. Soon leaving not a trace of their existence but rapidly decomposing bodies and thick black blood coating the street. Flicking the ichor from his sword, their partner was soon sheathed and ice blue eyes fell upon the human once more. Even now, leaned on their axe and badly damaged they resembled a wild animal. A chained canine waiting for a chance to strike out at the hand that feeds it.

Interesting.

“Leave combat to those with real power,” his tone was cold, uncaring, but with just enough bite to be a clear insult. Despite their valiant attempts at clearing the infestation, the human body was only capable of so much. Least of all in close quarters combat. “Pick yourself up and find medical attention.”

With those last words, the hybrid finally gave the man an appraising look. Short golden blond hair, deep brown eyes, and a shirt paired with a trench coat that left little to the imagination. They left a sour taste of familiarity in his mouth. The added dashes or red that patterned their clothes doing little to differentiate this painfully mortal creature from his fool of a twin.