#kerbcros

@keyraised​ asked:

​ it was only a matter of time before cerberus showed up in Death Valley. unclear where he came from, even more so where he’s going, but all three parts of him are in the mood for fetch. he’d found proper hellhound-sized sticks of course (three trees he’d pulled up, one for each mouth), and dropped all three - at once - in front of the first person who seemed big enough to hold them. it's play time ! / from kerbcros, for whoever best fits ur Emotional State

He can’t even be surprised. It’s a weird dog. A giant weird dog with three heads, sure, but a weird dog. This just happens. At least it doesn’t seem aggressive. Just... Dog-ish.

The reaper looks at the dog, then at the ‘sticks’. Then back at the dog. Then at Kane, who’s already hauling a tree up as best he can.

“What?” Kane asks, hefting the tree over his shoulder to get ready to toss it.  “It’s a dog. What am I supposed to do, not throw the stick?”

Taker mulls it over for a second, then shrugs and drags up one of the other trees.

cerberus was ignoring zagreus again, doubly so this time. not only had he been gone for far too long, but he’d also overheard him mentioning /heracles/. hel, thankfully, has never spoken about nasty heroes around cerberus, and therefore is a prime target for making zagreus jealous. he dramatically flopped on his side in front of her, cracking a few tiles along the way in a clear cry for attention. he even throws in a whine as a treat, just to hammer things home. / kerbcros ,,,, pubby // @kerbcros​

Were she any less accustomed to Garmr’s dramatics, she might have fallen to pieces over this clear cry for attention. Her face is a perfect mask of sympathy, though her eyes might shine from amusement more than comfort. “Poor, sweet boy,” she croons, reaching out to trace her chilled fingers across the nearest head.

“Has Zagreus been utterly unbearable? Has he been cruel to the greatest of all boys? I’m so sorry.” There, behind an ear, that’s always been her own hound’s sweet spot. “Poor, sweet Cerberus. Why don’t you ignore him, too? You can come stay with me, and play with my boy, and your prince will drag himself over on his knees begging forgiveness...”

The mental image of Zagreus dragging himself through the snow nearly destroys her. Biting back a howl of laughter, she digs her teeth into her lower lip, counting back from nine. It returns to her, the thought of the godling with only his hair and laurels visible over the snow drifts.

This had been planned; Eoin's not stupid. There's a reason he's here, and although he didn't know what that reason might be before shit went down, he understands now. If he says he's not the slightest bit annoyed with Shae, it would be a lie; this is Benjamin Granger antics all over again, and while he's not too worried about the murdering aspect, he is annoyed at the part where he's left in the dark about it and used. God, he hates being used so much. He's nothing more than his fists and his acid, and while he should be content with that, he's not. It's fucking annoying.

But he's here now, and police isn't being discriminate about which mutant they target and which they leave. They're all the same to them, and frankly, the feeling is mutual. The moment shit hit the fan, the first thing Eoin did was put on his mask; he knew there was going to be a fight, and since he doesn't fight fair, he knows to come prepared for his own violence.

The police cruiser screeches to a halt and Eoin slides along the hood of it smoothly to the other side, grabbing the officer coming out of it and twisting him so his back is turned to him. The sound of gunfire rises through the chaos and Eoin catches them all with the meat shield in front of him, promptly letting the now-dead body drop on the ground. With lightning speed movement, Eoin is on the roof of the car; the officer on the other side has only seconds to gasp before the mutant's hand has burnt through the back of his skull, and with a sharp yank, rips a handful of grey matter away for good measure.

There's no coming back from that one.

He ducks once at another shot fired, and looking over at more advancing officers, Eoin quickly realises that he's outnumbered. If he was anyone else, maybe it'd put the fear of death in him. But area of effect is his game, and abhorrent gruesome murder his name, and who is he to deprive these pissant fucks of either?

Standing up on the roof of the car, he descends a torrent of corroding gas upon his would-be killers, and within seconds he can hear the gagging and coughing as they're forced to either flee or, if they're lucky enough, die. Even as the torrent keeps pouring from his hands, Eoin hops off the police car.

5. does your character work so they can support their hobbies or use their hobbies as a way of filling up the time they aren’t working?

Isaac’s hobbies include crime and causing havoc and his work includes distracting people while others commit crime, so really, work and play aren’t so different to him. Sometimes he stays up late to host his own talk show exclusively on police walkie talkies, as it’s performed through the one he stole from a cop about a month ago.

13.what does your character pretend or try to care about?

6. what is your character reluctant to tell people?

lmfao, anything. eoin is reluctant to talk to people, let alone filling them in on important personal issues that doesn’t consist of ‘i need you to shut the fuck up now’ and ‘if you don’t leave i will melt you into the ground’.

but like, bruh. kid can’t even admit to himself that he’s lonely and depressed and fucking tired of life, so idk. he sure won’t tell others that, lol.

13. what does your character pretend or try to care about?

7. how does your character feel about sex?chance loves it because it gives him the illusion of being loved, the affection that he desperately craves. he is absolutely vanilla and will shower his partner for the night with kisses, and cuddles after.