The Outfit That 'ian' Is Wearing During This Thread, In Case Anyone Was Curious!!

he blinks, noting the firmness of johnny's grasp, but also the quickened enthuse with which he shook julius' hand. at that, his gaze narrowed, a soft smile crossing his expression. especially at how casually johnny spoke with him. "actually, it's customary to only give your last name when speaking to others. part of G.U.N's protocols. wouldn't want you getting in trouble with the higher ups if they overhear you." or having another soldier ratting johnny out.

then, though, johnny calls him roberto and julius can't hide the skewed expression of light surprise and confusion at that- wait, roberto? not to mention, johnny was speaking far too informally, it'd get him in plenty of trouble. julius chews at the tip of his tongue as he considers how in the heck he's supposed to respond to all of that.

...the way that johnny's speaking, talking, going on, it's so bizarre it's oddly refreshing, in it's own right.

"i'm.... sorry about your hair. it's required and mandatory, a lot of things are around this place. but uhm, if it's any relief, i think the style you have now looks fine enough." he trails, thinking about the things johnny asked about how julius kept any sanity here.

"....well," he, didn't know how to answer that, "i just do as i'm told. and i try to keep my head down. i'd be perfectly fine as a rank-and-file soldier, boots on the ground," so then why was he so desperate in trying to gain more ranking here? his father. julius keeps any bitterness deep within, not letting that flint of possible fire any air to grow, "but... it would be nice to have a bit more, ah, leeway?"

"i'm sure you'll adjust in time, bravo." he clears his throat, and steps back, giving a small smile, "did you want to walk around the base? i can give you a mini tour of sorts. i know it took me a few weeks to really remember where every hallway led to, or where to rush to when an alarm went off."

Sheesh. Even just one year in this place sounded so overwhelming at the moment, it was hard to believe anyone would want to stick around for that long. But Johnny supposed that he'd already signed himself up for this, so there was no backing out now...

Johnny looked down at the other man's hand for a brief moment, then took it in his own to give him a shake—Robotnik would notice that he had a rather firm grip, and shook with a hasty enthusiasm.

"Well, I'm Johnny! Johnny Bravo!" Alas, he wasn't quite as familiar with the last-name basis around here yet, so he didn't give much thought to it. Then, he grew serious for a moment. "Alright, Roberto, so you've been here for a lil' while, right? So, lemme ask ya... How do ya do it? I've barely been here a day, n' I feel like I'm already losin' my marbles, man. They took my hair from me! My precious 'do! That's like... like a cat without claws! An angel without wings! How's a guy supposed to stay sane 'round here?"

What is Your Hate Language?

VIOLENCE

Physical Violence is a common, yet bold hate language. It’s old as time and is as natural as rain. It’s often one of the first thoughts that come to us when we feel hatred, but you actually have the moxie to go through with it. Fist fights at bars and you think assassination is the best option in politics. You’re an absolute loose canon. Your most likely crime would be murder. The only down side of this hate language is how hard it is to get away with it.

[txt:] surprised to hear what?

[txt:] erm, nothing really?

[txt:] well maybe some things.

[txt:] i don't know i've never been asked that before.

[txt]: surprised to hear that. [txt]: so what else about you is old schooled too then?

❝ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ɪ ꜱᴀᴛ ʙᴇɴᴇᴀᴛʜ ꜱᴛᴀʀꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ… ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇʀ. ɪ'ᴠᴇ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴀɪɴ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ, ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴀʟʟ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.❞

Ft → Shadow the Hedgehog from the Sonic Franchise. Lore drawn from S A 2 , Sonic X, Shadow '05 , and some '06 with own personal lore. Movie Shadow lore found within pinned CAARD , Headcanon tag Awakened by Kris Template: (X)

tw; blog will talk about themes of de-hedge-ization, death, blood and violence and other mature elements

🕯️

send me 🕯️to hear my character's inner thoughts about your character.

imad. a pillar. he's... swiftly become everything that fuels me, and everything that terrifies me. what a horror: to have someone to lose. not again. never. again. i will protect him with every atom in my being. damn the consequences, damn the masses. i need HIM.

....i can only hope that i'm worthy.

"AU CONTRAIRE, my spandex wearing friend," the words are as tight and as mockery filled as he could make them. because julius believed not a word of what had been said to him just then. "it's entirely of my concern." he had made that choice. deliberately. which is to say nothing of why he had, wouldn't divulge that.

at the threatened quieter words, julius scoffs. "what you want and what you need are entirely separate things. you need air to breathe, so you take in air. why strangle yourself from what you need by tamping it down. to whose benefit."

@drrobctnik asked; "There's nothing wrong with what you are. It's in your bones. Don't you want to make them suffer?"

embracing the monster prompts

Experience concludes that the other's words were deliberately incendiary, were intended to breach the unreadable armour he habitually wore as naturally as his own skin. A carefully placed strike, calculated to find the fractures beneath his restraint, that should be--

Dismissed. As was his go-to response, reached for whenever he heard rehashes of the same arguments, broached by those who believed taking aim at his very nature, and what he stood for, to be a good idea. Fully expectant that he was steps removed from sliding towards darker notions, that better aligned with the monster that some of his enemies perceived him to be.

What a farce.

Thoroughly unamused by this ploy, Miguel's jaw locked beneath the navy-blue cover of his mask in response. With patience tested, he made an effort to keep his tall posture carefully composed, disallowing so much as a flick of emotion to assert itself. Or betray the thoughts curling at the edges of his mind, following such an opening shot aimed at his very character. What exactly resided in his mutated bones?

Something not previously known to science, for a start, but that was only the tip of a very long list of findings that he had spent years compiling about himself, experiencing compulsions, emotions, even wants, in ways that the stranger before him could only theorise about. The strength, the hunger, the violent instinct, buried under careful control; Miguel knew exactly what he was capable of, was all too aware of how easy it would be to tear through the ones deserving of his wrath.

But easy wasn't the same as right.

Irked by the notions proposed, his fingers twitched once by his side, before stilling. "What I am," comes his announcement, delivered in an even tone, devoid of any material that could be hijacked and twisted into a sign of agreement, "is none of your concern." There's a need to add more, adamant to make clear his stance before more attempts are made to demonise himself. It takes a beat, as well as a slow inhale, before he allows the tension perpetuated a chance to settle, voice shifting gears to acquire a quieter level, wreathed with threat; "And neither is what I want."

warmup based on the latest pic Lee posted

curious, julius glanced over when he noted movement, and saw sonic rummaging around the grass. what was he doing? then, sonic's picking up a - rock? julius' eyebrow raised. tossing, it skips before going into the water. sonic mentions it not being 'flat' enough. if that's the case.....

he bends down, gloved hand feeling through the grass, until he feels a sizeable rock, flatter than sonic's. smirking, julius lifted it and closed an eye, staring at the pond as if that'd help him aim better.

he tossed that rock, and it skipped about several times before finally submerging. a smile crossed julius' expression at the realization. hmph. how stupid.

at that, sonic gave a soft, understanding smile. he shrugged a little bit, "no problem," then thought about what to talk about. not like he and julius ran with the same circles, or really talked outside of fighting or battle quips. his gaze lowers to the grass, fingers roamed until he felt a small pebble. lifting it up, sonic tossed that rock and watched it skip across the pond about twice before sinking, "drat, not flat enough."

HOW .... BASIC !!

indie, private and selective mutuals only portrayal of agent stone from the sonic franchise. 21+ ONLY to follow. written by Fritzi <3

[ TEMPLATE CREDIT ]

what day was it; what time. how long had he been here. the seconds blurred into minutes, into hours, into inability to perceive time. julius had thought he'd had bad concept of how long it'd been before, that had been child's play comparatively, to this.

he never moved, not from that spot. & no guards ( he could only surmise he was being held in some sort of G.U.N facility ) ever came to check in on him. supposed it was now more of a curse that he needn't eat, nor really breathe, or drink any liquid in order to survive. could've been kept down here a millennia and it wouldn't have changed anything for julius.

no real danger of dying. just listening to his own haggard, low breaths. he'd screamed until there was nothing left in his lungs to give. now, as it was, staring blankly ahead, all he could do was try. try and grasp for any small semblance of that chaos energy in his body, in the air surrounding him, and hold on. hope that he could push into it, or pull it closer to himself, start to build it. like starting over from scratch after having mastered a technique. a fumbling baby deer unable to walk, or a flightless baby bird. kept slipping, unable to hold on for long enough. or whatever restraints those bastards put on him kept on diluting that energy to the point it wouldn't spark, could barely breathe.

eventually, though he tried to stave it off, he began to sob. it wasn't even sheer sorrow that the sobbing had been inspired by; anger, mostly. that betrayal that kept growing and growing, morphing into disbelief and then hatred and then a numbness, rinse and repeat. that feeling of being abandoned, left alone to rot. forgotten by time. he clenched his hands together so hard beneath those restraints it was a wonder he hadn't shredded his palms to bits.

he kept thinking back to stone ⸻ having only met him the once, for barely maybe 10 minutes at that, an unrequited hug before stone had left ⸻ & wishing he were here. where are you, he kept thinking, not out of blame. not out of rage or anger, not towards stone, but the circumstances. that sheer helplessness of his situation. why aren't you bursting into here and ⸻ and what? why should julius expect to be saved, or needed, quite frankly.

that only caused his sobbing to get worse, that slow realization that, he wasn't necessary. he could die here and no one would turn their head elsewise. doubted anyone even knew he was gone, or if they did, all he could think was why. why was he still here then. why couldn't⸻ just someone, anyone⸻ not not even anyone his mind kept going back to stone, that hug ⸻ unreturned, but julius had hugged sonic too, before THAT BASTARD⸻

ragged inhales, that rage returning and eclipsing the numbness. he wanted sonic dead. he wanted sonic alive, so he could demand an answer out of him. wanted sonic screaming. wanted sonic safe. wanted to just turn back time and never accept that stupid invitation. should've known something wasn't right. sonic never invited julius anywhere. he had been so blinded by disbelief and by the small joy at being included⸻

weak. stupid. useless.

more screaming, not caring if his throat was raw, pushing beyond the limits of his vocal chords. knew they'd heal, even if it took time and at a slower crawl than normal. whatever was restricting his chaos energy usage wasn't affecting his healing. the sick fucks. he'd almost respect it if he wasn't so god damned offended & insulted, ashamed.

alone.

with nothing to do but think, but stew. trying and failing to come up with plans to escape.

eventually, his eyes lulled closed, wishing he could sleep. pass out again. couldn't, body didn't need sleep. another form of torture and using his own abilities against him.

wished he were dead. wanted to live to⸻ he didn't even know. to spite them. wanted to give up. but something in him writhed at the notion: coward. weak bastard. fight. go down screaming and cursing if you must, but don't let them win. never truly.

so he waited. bided his time. it was all he could do.