by me
"you know we aren't meant to exist in the outside world." - Handler
ComfortsNeedles and Pins - his stuffed animal friend, all mashed up with different parts, he loves him. Needles and pins is worn and as lots and rips and tears and has seen better days, but Handler wont let him go. he has been with Handler for years and handler, although on the adult lines loves pins so much, that he acts childish, his brain never deveolped fully, and realistlcly, has grown up to be an adult kid. so to speak. Needles and Pins is his facorite, messed up in a factory but Handler loved him so much that he took him when no one else would, even before they were going to get rid of it. and Needles and Pins, who we could call Needles, has been his only friend.
sketch here
link hereRPW's using:Aeolus - owned by me (M)
BeoWulf / Ba'al - owned by me (M)
Cioccolatte - owned by Sno Leopard(F)
Unnamed - owned by Sno Leopard (M?)
*static* ''handler has been spotted.... please advise''username: General Koi
name: Handler Advise
gender: sexless but male pronouns
story: wip
they just don't understand''I try to help. But I only make things worse. I just don't know what went wrong.''Summary:
Whenever handler tries to help anyone, it always ends in disaster. Either they get hurt, or ren bites them. It's compulsive for a zombie to bite someone. But not this much. Everywhere he goes, someone gets hurt, someone blames him, someone turns him in. He's always been someone that needs to be watched. He doesn't like to harm people, it's just.... He gets scared, anxious. And it happens. He hurts someone. He never intentionally means to hurt anyone. They spook him and that's all it takes. All it takes to hurt someone.
What he wears:
- dog muzzle to help stop his biting habits
- loose chained collar to help warn people that he's 'bad'
Don't take anything off this form. Even if it's small.
The concept of very introverted and when frightened he bites is mine. Don't take anything from it.
name
gender
age
is this guy dead or alive? alive, not dead
is this guy immortal or mortal? mortal
does this guy truly act like a zombie or is it actually just the design? 50/50 - he acts like one, but it is also just the design
by wayward elk - story commission
Soft paw pads began tapping the ground as a light fog rolled in to the town, the birds chirping and the sun shining. Through the cloud of mist, a small grey figure trotted out carrying something in his mouth; it was small, and patched. The canine figure trotted out of the way of the rolling cloud and in to a small back ally, luckily the fog didn’t seem to follow him. He gripped the small toy tighter and smiled as he made his way through a few streets; Today was going to be a good day.
He made his way to a large chalk coloured building, and circled around the back. He started sniffing what he could of the ground through the toy, and began wandering in small circle shapes. After noting it was clear, he took a moment to rest his paws and lie down by a lamp post. He lowered his head and closed his eyes, resting his chin on his wrists as he tucked his toy in between his paws. He shifted his hind legs and curled slightly, taking a moment to listen for anything, just in case.
His head shot up in a panicked, frantic motion as he took around, the sun was going down and a heavy fog had rolled in now. He quickly scrambled to his feet and began looking in circles. He grabbed Needles and began running around the side of the school; he stopped in his tracks as he turned the corner, he was standing a mere ten feet away from a police officer. He quickly skid on his paws and turned around, taking frantic first few steps and almost tripping. He bolted as fast as he could around the corner and the last thing he heard from the schoolyard was a click of static and the man saying “Spotted the hound”
He ran through the town as fast as he could, eventually making his way to a dump near the outskirts of town. He slowed down and crawled through a hole in the towering chain-link fence, digging with his paws slightly to help him fit. He usually got quite dirty from the event, but he didn’t care much. He snuck around a man who seemed to be unloading some kind of a container in to the garbage pile, and made his way down the side of the yard. He was creeping low to the ground trying not to get caught, but eventually he made it to the other side and found a cozy spot to lie down again. This side of the dump was usually safe, no one ever really came by here, and it was boxed by concrete walls. He took a moment to lick his doll clean before lowering his head again. He wasn’t sleeping this time, he was just hiding.
A few hours or just wandering the dump and picking at scraps he found later, he heard a noise which sounded like a scream. He quickly ran to investigate, but only to find a group of three laughing teenagers. He tilted his head and observed for a moment before shaking it off and going back to his little home. On this night, every few dog years, weird things would happen. The town would go dark; it was sort of like a curse. The entire neighborhood would display burning pumpkins on their porch, Handler didn’t quite know whom they were displaying it to, but if it had anything to do with the darkness, he, or she, had got to be someone important… or evil…
He heard another scream, but it was followed by broken down cackling, and a loud bang. He whined and turned around to see some sort of light in the sky, it was glowing brightly through the fog, but it started to dissipate as soon as it had appeared.
He bit on to his toy tighter and trotted through the dump. He made his way back out in to the streets to witness the event, it was amazing. There were dozens of types of creatures: there were humans with animal parts, wolves that stood on their hind legs, very colourful humans with strange features, dolls that stood as tall as the average man and, Oh look! Santa is here too!
His tail wagged as he trotted through the town, holding his head high, as well as his toy. If there were so many zombies and vampires and monsters, he was almost completely sure no one would care about the way that he looked! It was like he was in a costume to look like these strange things, or they were in a costume to look like him. He began looking around at all the houses, the neighborhood seamed to different, but it all smelled the same. He heard a cat meow, and looked over to see a little black cat, who presumably lived at one of the neighbors houses. The cat didn’t seem to acknowledge him, so he just continued on his way. He was actually enjoying himself, this was actually going okay! Well, expect for the fact that he had just walked right in to a police officer. The human turned around with a “huh?” and looked at Handler. He whined and crept away but the human only laughed along with a fireman and a girl that looked like one from an old 1980’s magazine.
He swiftly crept away and took a moment to thank that the officer hadn’t noticed it was him. Maybe he was too busy monitoring all the monsters? Whatever, it didn’t matter, he was safe and that’s really all that did. Well, except for Needles. He made his way down the street, but was hit with a familiar scent. It wasn’t the dump, and he only knew it faintly… He looked around a corner to see the officer he met at the school from before. He quickly moved away but was seen by another one. This time though, he couldn’t run, this time, he was something pulled around his neck. He grabbed on to his toy as hard as he could in fear of dropping it as he was pulled away by the man.
The officer pulled him over to a car, no, it was more of a jeep. No, a truck, yes a truck. It had a big box on the back that looked like a room, but he wasn’t quite sure what it was… One of them opened the door and the other lifted him and put him in. He whined and began to thrash against the two men in an effort to make them let him go, but it was to no use. One of they pulled Needles away in the struggle and the other used the thing around his neck to trap him against the wall of the truck. For the time being they examined the doll, trying to figure out where it came from, but after a short amount of time they trapped him inside of a small kennel in the truck. He began barking, whimpering, and even howling in an effort of intimidation, almost in a way to say “get back!” or “Let me out!”
. . .
It was a bit of a drive, but after what seemed like forever, they stopped. They had stopped at a large building that smelled like dog. He was taken in through the back door and put inside of another cage, wait, he didn’t belong in a cage! He wasn’t one of the monsters from the streets, he just looked like this! He was no monster; they had the wrong idea, maybe they were looking for the dog dressed like a spider!?
The man who had brought him in started talking to someone else, and they seemed to be talking about him. His vision shot quickly between the two and he could feel in heart racing in his chest; what had they done with Needles? What were they planning to do with him? Why was he here? He heard the two men say the words ‘stray’ and ‘wanted’ a few times, but after that there were no other acknowledgments. He began trying to lash away from the collar they had put on him to bring him in, and trying to break the leash, but to no avail. The man who had just gotten there began trying to calm him down but he didn’t care.
Sooner or later the man had opened the cage to place a muzzle on him, but when he felt something grab his body he quickly turned around and sunk his teeth in to whatever had touched him, it had turned out it was the police officer trying to steady him in an effort to get the muzzle on easier. The officer cried out in pain, and in the shock and confusion, Handler got away. He had run through the door as fast as he could, faster than before and bolted down the hallways. He heard the man yell something but it didn’t matter. Soon he came in contact with a large set of double doors; the light flickered slightly as he stopped. He frantically looked around the white halls for a way out, he quietly whispered ‘not this way’ and ran through the other hallway, to no avail it was exactly the same; the dogs in the other cages started to bark in the shuffle of fear and confusion.
He ran back through a last hall but didn’t stop fast enough, the door was right there this time, and he had ran in to it causing it to swing open, and a family looking to adopt a cat jump in shock. Another man turned around and tried to stop him, but he ran past him and straight through the front door: using the same technique to open it. He ran as fast as he could through the town, as fast as he could away from the monsters that were still awake, and as fast as he could back to the dump.
When he had finally gotten to the other side of town he was too tired to sneak, so instead he walked, he was too tired to walk in circles, so instead he fell. He desperately tried to convince himself it was safe, that he was home now. It wasn’t the safest, or the nicest, or even the cleanest or best smelling, but it was his home… No. Home was with Needles, and they took Needles away from him. He whined and shifted slightly, trying to just go to sleep. And sleep he did, but it wasn’t a good sleep, no; it was plagued with the screams from the world, from the bangs and crackling of the light. All he wanted was to roll with his Needles, but he was gone now…
. . .
Day soon came on the town, a ray of light beaming in to Handlers face, causing him to wake up. He stretched and went to bite down on Needles only to find he wasn’t there anymore. He whimpered and continued on with his day, scrounging for food, hiding from man, and going for a walk. Soft paw pads began tapping the ground as a light fog rolled in to the town, the birds chirping and the sun shining. Through the cloud of mist, a small grey figure trotted out he didn’t have anything in his mouth; the canine figure trotted out of the way of the rolling cloud and in to a small back ally, luckily the fog didn’t seem to follow him. He made his way through a few streets; Today was going to be oddly different…
He made his way through a few streets; Today was going to be oddly different…
He soon found himself back in the schoolyard, and circling around the back. He found the police officer today, but he wasn’t wearing a uniform. He was something wrapped around his left hand where he had bit him, and he didn’t seem scary today. Handler stopped in his tracks, and took a minute to observe the man, wagging his tail slowly and lowering his head to show that he was not a threat. He half expected the man to pull out a gun and point, but that never happened. After a moment or two or left
At the end of the day he made his way back to the dump, only to find a small patched piece of cloth under a few cans and wrappers. He took a few steps and sniffed at it, but eventually brought the courage to push the things on top off. His ears perked and his tail drooped, his eyes widened in shock. That night, he circled a few times in the dirt, snuggling his chin up against his wrists, and resting calmly on a small, slightly cleaner, nicer patched up mystery animal with a brand new bell around its neck. He bit it slightly in the stomach and fell asleep to his favorite lullaby.
-End
