#zerotyped

Leave me “I should have known it’d be you,” and I’ll generate a number between 1-25 to see how my character would kill yours.

24. My character sets a building on fire with your character inside.

☾: On a sleepless night, what would they be found doing?

I could see Argilla putting her hair differently at first, or at least attempting to through the night while sitting nearby a mirror. Entertain herself in mundane activities, if it comes to succumbing into complete leisure, she might as well leave the residence for a night stroll if she isn’t going to attempt hunting. Eating sometimes isn’t the best way to distract yourself, specially when you are still hesitant about munching a human for the hell of it.

Basing on personal experience (i used to leave work around 1 am some days), it’s pretty quiet at late hours but could aid through boredom and to induce sleepiness, the dim lights of certain establishments that are nearing to close aside add some vividness and would keep her mind away from whatever is keeping her up.

♆: Are they prone to violent outbursts or thoughts?

"Blunt" reaction or approach maybe, but never lingering close to violence. That is more fitting of Heat, sadly — which she disapproves by the way and why I see it unlikely from her part ever, which makes it more rare than anything for her to have any outburst or ideas than thread damaging paths since she considers most of them as erroneous. It would demand an extreme situation for her voice to raise in an ill intent or to ever react far more brashly than when she attempts to make a point. What she is prone to, however, is to enact upon a more emotional side and there’s a vast difference on denoting disappointment through her words and not having problem on conveying them. She can be straightforward at least.

A warrior of renown, Tsubaki's prowess on the battlefield is the sort of thing that can turn a seeming Horde victory into an actual Horde rout in short order. Numerous victories against Horde officers have earned her a reputation, and there are whispers that Warchief Hellscream cursed her name in his tent late at night.

He lined them up, one after another, on the snowbank that had built up next to one sidewalk. People passed this way on a regular basis, and the occasional stares as the majority of the human residents gawked at the Pandaren was something he’d become used to. At least no one was calling him a monster these days. His arms emptied, Snowdrift looked over his handiwork with a satisfied nod.

His timing was magnificent – the wind built into a stiff breeze that swept off a huge amount of snow and left Snowdrift spluttering. Shivering in place, he looked over his now-buried icy work and sighed disgustedly.

     Cumbersome interventions ceaselessly encountered during machinations enacted prior to those newly formulated, known was it that such nuisances would continually prevail as opposition was unavoidable when antagonism comprised the self. A cog in the machine, complications meant to decimate the possibility for successful calamity, this so-called heroism was thoughtlessly hefted upon the shoulders of the one intended to be a subjective force, a necessary justice to disperse the shroud of darkness cast upon the world by those with dastardly intentions.

     Unfortunately, this integral role was not suitable for this familiar face as known all too intimately were the shortcomings, the vices, the blatant incapability to save the world, much less her own mind. Warped beliefs had steeped integrity in ignorance, servitude towards a single being having reduced the promising individual into nothing but a marionette so blissfully unaware of it's true worthlessness. It was truly pitiful, a sight that would tug at the heartstrings of those capable of empathy, but as it was, bereft of that human quality was the one responsible for this very degradation.

     Thus, was appropriate mask donned in order to continue orchestrating this tragedy.