#ffang

What was he doing out in the rain, without cover?

Even Bark had an umbrella, not because he needed it, but because he really didn’t feel like going through the process of drying what few articles of clothing he wore. The bear had simply been on a walk. He hadn’t expected to see a scrawny weasel of all things. Bark could recognize that scent anywhere. He knew exactly who this was.

It wasn’t the greatest scent, but the scent of tobacco never was. Yuck. Bark could have never handled being a smoker. His nose was just too sensitive.

🍥🍥🍰🍨 send me ‘🍰’ + A NUMBER for a desserts headcanon! 🍨🍰🍥🍥

5.- Does my character bake? how good are they? how often do they do it? 

He wishes! He’s not very good at the kitchen, not even doing something simple as baking. He knows all the theory and even memorized some good recipes for different desserts, including cakes, pies and cookies, but whenever he tries to bake one of those it doesn’t go well… he either makes a disaster somehow or the final result tastes awful… but that doesn’t stop him from trying it from time to time. He knows that Eggman bakes (especially muffins) so we dreams to be as good as his idol on that.

7.- What dessert does my character have for their birthday?

While he doesn’t mind the traditional birthday cakes, whenever he gets to celebrate his birthday by himself he makes sure to make a quick visit to the  bakery to get a little dessert for himself, whether it is a piece of strawberry shortcake, a strawberry crepe or some chocolate covered strawberries. Eating something related to strawberries have become a little tradition for him.

16.- How does sugar affect them? do they ‘sugar-rush’ and then ‘crash’ after?

Her JITTERY RAGE is scarcely concealed.  She glowers at the stranger (  but not by association, oh, she knows him well by association  ) from across the room, eyes dark and brimming with something too sharp to be called hatred.  Anything to do with Eggman --------- she’ll destroy it.

     “I’ve had it up ta here with yer bullshit, ya two-faced guttersnipe!” A voice boomed across the bar room, collecting the attention of almost everyone present. At it’s source stood a well-dressed Boston Terrier -- two subordinates adorning either side of him -- while across from them all, a wolf clad in foreign armor, poised in a defensive stance. “Y’think yer hot shit, fella? Y’think y’can just come in here and make a fool outta me? I’ll show ya what happens when ya pick the wrong bone, then!”

‘I don’t personally like it, not when it comes to those close to me. In fact, I don’t ever lie to them. Not unless it’s something minor, like wanting to hide a surprise from them, or joking around on April first.

‘I understand why someone would do that, to another person. Sometimes you have no other choice but to harm someone, if they’re assaulting you. And sometimes, either fear or instincts take over, and accidents happen.

I also understand the less...acceptable kind of killing. The kind done out of desperation for survival. I was in the same boat once.

But what I will never understand, is when killing is done out of anger, or jealousy. Or greed. And least of all, when somebody kills just because they can, and because they want to have that sort of control over someone’s life. None of it is a last resort.

“W-wait--! Don’t shoot--!”

How else was he to respond when a very familiar looking face held up a pistol like that at him? Of course it made sense; the guy seemed to have been surrounded by some Dark Gaia beasts previously which preyed on the innocent, and as a result it was only self-defense that prompted him to become trigger-happy. Still, Sonic didn’t expect for that pistol to be pointed at him.

“I’m not one’a them! I swear!”