FROM NOW ON // private

[PHOENIX]

(( it's been a while since I've rped humans so forgive the awkwardness [member=8127]DARWIN[/member] ))

Rolling his shoulders, Brendan takes a few moments to exhale softly, hands on his hip as he eyes the kitchen. As per usual, there isn't too much dirt caked into the flooring; he normally asks any customers to avoid tracking mud and excess debris when entering his home. Kicking off his shoes, he shoos them by the front door, taking his sweatshirt off as he does so. His chickens are all asleep by now, and all he has to do is make sure everything in his house is in order for tomorrow.

Frown tightening just a little, Brendan glances on over at the calendar—May 26th is the next farmers' market. That's...what, two weeks away?

Ugh.

Just the mere idea idea of cranky customers invading his home for two more weeks wipes him out completely, and as he tugs on the brim of his tank top, he can't help but groan a little. His house is pretty damn clean, no doubt about it, but in the next two weeks it'll only go more and more downhill. Brilliant, just fucking brilliant.

Grabbing the hand towel that hangs off of his oven, Brendan takes a quick moment to wipe his hands and face, before tossing it back down onto the counter and grabbing a wipe. He can't tell if his counters are dirty or not, so might as well make it clean, right? Right.

[impiety]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]J had been to the Chicken Dude's shop numerous times, he stole eggs, they tasted really good, sometimes J stole the eggs. But he was beginning to catch on to things. He wasn't as dumb as he acted, and Brendan was naive, young, foolish. Perhaps Phoenix was too. A little smile crossed over his face at the thought. He would get to the bottom of this little game, once and for all. J didn't play other people's games, and if he must, he always won. But otherwise, he was the gamemaker.

With a cheery whistle outside, not bothering to hide his presence, he has an axe in both hands, clasped tightly together. A slam into a window was all he needed, smashing until there was a hole big enough for him to get through, and he carefully stepped in not wanting to feel glass through his skin. He pointed his eyes straight to Chicken Dude, his pearly whites spread out in his signature grin. "Nice place you got here!" He sing-songed, skipping closer with all the grace of an elephant balancing on straw. "I hope you don't mind me stopping in, I just wanted some eggs. Maybe something else." J hummed, trying to go straight to the fridge with rope attached to his belt.

[impiety]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]J blinked at Brendan moving in front of the fridge, and he felt amusement twitching at his lips. Oh? He takes in the scenario. He had just broken in with an axe and this guy was trying to protect his eggs. Damn. Chicken Dude was as dumb as his chickens. Yeah, J was almost sure that Chicken Dude was the right height, as well. A shake of his head in what might be described as pity for Brendan was made, a finger tapping his own crossed arms.

"Chicken Dude, Brendan, please." His sigh was dramatic as a tsk tsk tsk was released. "Here I was, gonna have a meal, give you the chance to call the cops probably, maybe you'd get to see Phoenix and whisper to all your friends if you have any - if not with your chickens -" J wondered, just how far would the other go? How much would he fight? How difficult? J tried to send the dull side of the axe blade straight into Brendan's groin. Not the smartest move, but this was less about trying to actually fight and more about testing the strength. "You're awfully rude." He sighed dramatically. Was he wrong? J didn't think so. He just came for eggs! What sorta neighbor wasn't willing to lend that, right? Maybe a neighbor's house he broke into after traveling a good ten miles, but still.

[impiety]

[align=center]

Upon the axe being ripped from his hands, J observes each move, his eyes analytical, and he jumps back when he sees the leg swinging to his side, efficiently avoiding a kick that looked fluent, easy, as though he practiced quite regularly. His lips had been momentarily concentrated, but they peeled back into an almost smug grin, his fingers tightened into a fist as his eyes squint a bit. "Nice moves." Oh, Chicken Dude wasn't smart, was he? Taking the hit would've just been the better solution, but now J had to pull out the - little guns? Yeah, now he had a pistol and he attempted to raise it to Phoenix, aimed right at his head.

"Now if you don't mind, you ought to stay still. I mean, unless you like holes in your head. But to be honest I don't know how well you could hold a pole in there, so you wouldn't be that useful that way." Laughter boomed from his voice.

//im sorry my posts succ forgive me

[align=center][div style="width: 507px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"][spoiler="BANG!" GOES GUN, "OUCH!" SAYS MAN | TAGS; 3/21/2018]J | Introduced As "The Letter J" | Cisgender male
Age and birthdate unknown, looks to be in his thirties
TNW: Leader of Group of Captors | Loyal to himself and rarely others | Family unknown
Suffers from Retrogade Amnesia | Relearning, but may never regain memories
Graysexual Grayromantic | Single | Has a crush on himself honestly
Believes Johannes is dead | Becomes hysterical if Joh is talked about

Albino | Reference & Reference
— 6'5; typically between 120 and 140 lbs. Lanky and bony, severely underweight
— Wears oversized beige fedora all the time to protect himself from the sun
— Chalk white skin with green hair with subtle curls and a thick albino brow
— Bright green eyes and exaggeratedly long features
— Wearing a baggy t-shirt that says "I hate shirts" and yellow suspenders, has long beige pants up to his waist
— So clean you could lick him if he wouldn't stab you for it
— Has a bracelet that says "YMPH" on it, extremely protective over it
65% HEALTH | Heavily littered with scars, look at biography (appearance) for specifics

Trope & Trope & Trope | J is a human with a disturbed mind, yet a fun spirit, if you consider murder a fun past time anyway. He likes the company of others and takes pleasure in being amusing, and he gets aggravated around serious environments or people. His entire life seemingly revolves around entertaining himself and dominating over people, and he has his fun in the most intriguing ways. He is highly emotional to a point it makes him dangerous and impulsive, but he rarely trust others anymore.

75/100 Physical Difficulty | 99/100 Psychological Difficulty | 90/100 Short-Term Recovery
Clever, logical and quick in battle | Surprisingly smart fighter
Relies on weapons and cheap gags | Will fight dirty
More likely to play mental games than to outright fight | Cruel
— Keeps a hydrochloric squirtgun on a holster, looks silly but is seriously dangerous. Keeps a retractable pocket knife. Has a grenade in his pockets.
Attack in bold #9BB89C or similar | @ DARWIN for quick responses | PM for any major plots.
Friendly or nonviolent actions may be powerplayed, but might not be reacted to very well.[/spoiler]

[impiety]

track on my main so i dont forget thi s

[impiety]

i promise ill reply to this eventuALLY IM SORRY