The situation is DIRE.

'Do you think you'll ever come back?'

Probably never/Probably not. Somewhat recently a very dear and long-time friend opted to part ways with me, and that was entirely up to them and as per their own discretion.

Which I entirely encourage, especially in online spaces and roleplaying - compatibility is very important when it comes down to just about everything in a friendship, be it in communication, muse, writing style, even down to something as simple as time zones, and if something is off, there can be more stress than fun involved in the relationship.

But as it stands, their muse and companionship was very important to Maveric and his progression and characterization, so it feels odd and melancholy to be here and continue like he wasn't very much shaped by those interactions.

@bloominghands​ HOWLED: Offers himb;; a soft hug 🥺🌸

| |The sea I so loved, she rejects me, she rejects me!:;

Easy company was sometimes as much a curse as it was a boon, allowing for a little too much honesty to slip between the cracks of conversations - the ashen behemoth wasn’t exactly the best to discuss the more heavy topics, but he did excel in listening without fuss... and at times, mentioning his own experiences just in case it seemed like a subject was a touchy thing.     The nature goddess carried herself with such an elegant dignity, quiet and morose yet incredibly kind - he had killed those slandering her name, once, even without really knowing the exact details behind her bounty... whatever it was, the flowering beauty deserved better than a few drunk punks in a bar defacing her divine rights.   ... at least, she showed him kindness, and that was enough. A glance askance, noting the beckoning stance, an obvious offer for closeness, and the hound tilted his head in unspoken inquiry - had he misspoken? Perhaps something he had let slip had hit somewhere deep...?        ... .. hesitation was always ugly on him, but an embrace from her might be too much, for he was so very susceptible to that all-encompassing, safe feeling that he had lost so long ago. 

   basics

NAME: Maveric Unelanvhi NICKNAME: Mav, Mavvy, Dumb Mutt, Mavvy-poo, Sea Hobo, Old Man. AGE: Twenty Seven SPECIES: Nouryokusha - Zoan, Human -Tenryuubito.

   personal

MORALITY: lawful / neutral / chaotic / good / grey / evil. RELIGION:  Worships the Sea God of the Grand Line. SINS: greed  /  gluttony  / sloth  / lust /  pride  /  envy  /  wrath. VIRTUES: chastity  /  charity  /  diligence  /  humility  /  kindness  /  patience  /  justice PRIMARY GOALS IN LIFE: To survive and live so as to prove his love to the sea for saving his life many years ago, possessed prior goals of protecting and guarding Zoen, and has many short term plans of providing companionship to various people. KNOWN  LANGUAGES:   Common tongue of the Grand Line, can speak the language of beasts.

   physical

BUILD: scrawny  /  bony  / slender /  fit /  athletic  /  curvy  /  herculean  /  pudgy  /  average. HEIGHT: 6′6′‘, 201cm. WEIGHT: Around 300lbs, about 136kg. SCARS  /  BIRTHMARKS: He’s covered in scars from the various injuries suffered on the prehistoric island he survived at a young age, ranging from lacerations from dinosaurs and dire wolves to burns from acidic toxins from hostile plantlife. His signature lip scar was gained from cutting his mouth open on Yarou’s spines after falling from the ship as a child, and was the first injury he had ever suffered in his life. Other scarring was likely gained just from being a stupid pirate. ABILITIES  /  POWERS: Extreme strength and durability, is in possession of the Okami Okami no Mi; Model: Dire Wolf, which gives the user the ability to transform into varying degrees of a massive warg. Maveric is also a master of Busoshoku Haki, to the point where he can even coat a very close living creature(Yarou) as one would their weapon. This mastery of Armament also allows him to coat his vocal chords in Haki, giving him his signature move ‘Hangman’s Howl’, which is akin to a destructive soundblast.   RESTRICTIONS: Seastone cancels out Devil Fruit capabilities, and Maveric is EXTREMELY susceptible to it, even getting tired merely from the smell. He cannot swim, and will be unconscious the moment he touches the ocean.  

   favorites

FOOD: Anything you can grill over an open fire. DRINK: Alcohol, he prefers the sweeter varieties, like rum, also floral teas. PIZZA  TOPPING: I can imagine he’d probably like something horrible like anchovies or pineapple. COLOR: Red, pink, and the color of wheat. MUSIC  GENRE: Shanties, classical, anything with vocal, and piano. BOOK GENRE: bitch can’t read MOVIE  GENRE: he doesn’t. know what movies are. SEASON: likes winter and autumn islands. CURSE  WORD: Fuck. SCENTS: Sea breezes, florals, sweet scents.

   fun stuff

BOTTOM  OR  TOP:   mostly tops, wouldn’t really care either way. SINGS  IN  THE  SHOWER: he’ll sing anywhere, he doesn’t have to be wet LIKES  PUNS: iF HE FUCKIN UNDERSTANDS THEM

@bucketfullofocs​ HOWLED: Aya fidgets awkwardly, trying to not let her nerves get the better of her. It had been quite a while since they had last seen each other, and things were still awkward on Aya's end. But she wasn't going to let that stop her. "I, um, it's been a while, hasn't it?" She manages softly, glancing up to him. "I, um, I brought you something." As she speaks, she pulls out a small shell and offers it to him - a sound dial. On it, recordings of her voice, softly reading poetry.

| |The sea I so loved, she rejects me, she rejects me!:;

This time, he hadn’t even been trying to run away or avoid a damn thing, so the fact that it had taken him so long to track down the sailing library could have almost gave him a pang of guilt.    That is, if he had absolutely any sense of time, which the ashen beast didn’t, and as such, a vague glance would be shot askance towards the harbor where his massive living vessel was beached almost lazily on the shore - Yarou would shrink immediately upon noting the accusing glare, uncertain as to why he was being blamed for his ‘captain’ having absolutely no sense of direction or decorum.   Returning a softened gaze downwards and towards the soft-spoken little daughter of the sea, head craning in a beast-like manner.                                                “Has it, now?”

Rough bass denoting nothing but actual and genuine inquiry, there was little to do but just accept he may have lost track of the days - hopefully, there wasn’t much fuss about it, but there was also the concern that him hanging around the same vessel could get the book-loving lass in trouble.   - - Interrupted in his contemplation, the specialized shell within his sight, a large calloused palm extending to take the gift in hand, immediately testing it to see the function.   And immediately, a languid visage shifted to grateful amusement, the soothing sounds almost lulling him to sleep right then and there, but the ivory hound persevered, somehow.

@necroarchy​ HOWLED: How much more must you lose due to your weakness before you do something about it.

| |The sea I so loved, she rejects me, she rejects me!:; 

OH, STUPID CHILD,                 DID YOU EVER STOP TO CONSIDER YOU DESERVE REJECTION?     Of course he had - and survival was his penance. For all those foolish enough to save his worthless hide, he had brought naught but disappointment, despair and death.    For his Beloved, he proved an ungrateful, selfish brat, cursing her name until she finally CURSED HIM BACK.   And for his benefactor, he that took in a feral stray, he had first left and proved NOTHING, only to return and fail utterly in the single task given to him. He was no guardian, so why pretend as such? Those he had tried to protect, those whose past bumped hard against his, all he had managed to do for them was sink a few boats. For her who brought his mind back from the brink, well, the depths had taken her just the same, the dangling charm at his throat his only parting gift.         He still couldn’t read, and in his haste to defend she that smelled so like the sea, she had witnessed the cause for his epithet. There was a break in the film reel, and his expression shredded itself into frame, razor gold sinking into an ocean of white as jaws parted, a sudden swell of rage drizzling out just as soon as it reared.

@maljefe​ HOWLED: slaps mav's back several times, then several more ( but harder ) for good measure. "good to see you kiddo. hope you've been treating MY DAUGHTER well." although bellamy knew of the /unique/ situation maveric was in with her ( he cared for the man, but also didn't want to see loni hurt again were something to happen to him ) there was a part of him nervous. "how about we go get a drink and catch up, hn?"

| |The sea I so loved, she rejects me, she rejects me!:; 

A grunt, that was amiable enough, which turned into an almost confused cough as the assault continued, allowing himself to be just a little startled and impressed by the strength that the handsome old bastard had managed to put behind those smacks.   Familiarity just seemed to be the forefront of the man’s existence(He assumed that the other him had been well known), and he had always been there whenever he stayed on the strange... modern... island? City? - So it was a small matter to become friendly when interacting with the Little Queen’s pack.    While blood-relations weren’t exactly an easy subject, a father that chose you was something he could at least relate to, and Bellamy was everything one could hope to expect from the role.    ... that was good, right? She needed all the love and protection she could get, so that the burden didn’t always fall on the alpha to ensure everyone else never suffered.   A ruffian’s grin, as amusement claimed his expression, a light shrug of broad shoulders as he relented to someone else asking him for a drink.

@necroarchy​ HOWLED: Stabs at

| |The sea I so loved, she rejects me, she rejects me!:; 

Hellish inclination, by which the scorned and discarded SON OF CREATION felt the need to involve himself in the unlife of his FAILED, DEAD AND GONE charge - which meant the god before him should hold the title of... what? Family? He remembered sunrise gold spun from the same thread as a dandelion puff, an almost angelic presence, powerful and regal and beautiful, that you could almost see between the little hummed verses that a small girl sung.           And before him was what was left, plus a bunch of other shit that he couldn’t(didn’t care to) comprehend. So he’d make nice, for her sake, for Doffy’s sake, because deep deep deep deep down, he wanted to be a good boy for those who had saved him.   But for his Beloved, he would not die, and wretched was the STENCH of thousands of screaming souls - as soon as the blade neared, he had already tensed, an intense instinct allowing a swift retreat.   Not his normal method, but he knew better by now.            He might be a failure of a son, a lover, a guardian, a brother, but he wasn’t about to challenge the monarch on any real basis.

@tctidem​ HOWLED CHIRPED: ❝ Don't like your beast forms very much, do you? Don't think I've seen it. You are a /Zoan/, right? ❞ Lulubelle flicks a stray feather off the table from the collar of them currently formed fashionably around the neck rather than the bundles of a cape. ❝ Mmm. Must be a terrifying one. I was terrified of mine, once... ❞ A dejected look at the memories, flipped up for a bit of lighthearted humor instead, ❝ Or maybe you're just a little Pomeranian or something and I just don't know that yet. ❞

| |The sea I so loved, she rejects me, she rejects me!:;

Warm and idle were the lazy days spent so simply with a fond companion, endless alcohol and socializing that always seemed far too easy when in response to the chirping beauty. An entertainer at her finest, communication would flow naturally, and while he wasn’t exactly one to pry at anyone’s past, or recall a damn thing about.. anything, really, her picture came to mind when scanning newspapers that he had no ability(Not anymore) to read.     A question came to pinpoints of gold as a calloused hand extended, a bit too quickly for his size to boast, to catch the wayward plumage and add it ceremoniously to the large barrel resting beside his calf.         ... a zoan... not being fond of the form was only the tip of the iceberg.. avoiding her stalwart gaze was no great feat, but training his eyes on the small haul of offerings he had managed to collect was a gift of a distraction.

                          “Aye, I’m cursed, as is - ‘terrifying’ is a true way te’ describe it,                  but it’s more the shape. I hate wolves, ye’ see, and the sea?      She hates those forms right as much as I.                  I ain’t got a hint ah’ love to spare for it, but you, Lass?       Was it fear ah’ form or how it was seen? Because yer’ a right star in the sky,                    even as the ‘beast’, I wouldn’t worry yerself over it, aye?”

A distant amusement played at scarred features, as a display of ivory was finally granted towards the colorful gryphon, reassurance between monsters seeming to be a strong suit of his.