09-17-2017, 06:10 AM
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"Way to endear yourself by being a fucking nuisance." A sharp frown occupied much of Praxis' features, distaste evident throughout his expression, green eyes narrowed and nose wrinkled. There were better ways of announcing oneself, and however hard he worked at making himself the greatest thorn in everyone else's sides, not even he would have tried to garner attention like this, raucous and irritating. He was tempted to keep on walking and leave her here after the terse acknowledgement, but Praxis didn't know what the hell she would do if that happened. People weren't exactly trustworthy in this day-and-age, as he'd had to learn so hastily in the last year after spending all of his life secluded. So he begrudgingly approached, hands in his pockets and a pinch between his brows. "What do you want?" He was tense, tenser than what could be seen beyond his many layers of clothing, because again, he didn't know her, and he couldn't trust her. Maybe she was part of a ploy, a distraction while the real event occurred elsewhere, or maybe she wanted him to come close enough to pull a weapon on him through the links. That was why he kept a careful distance away from the much taller stranger. He couldn't defend himself very well, not without the element of surprise on his side or tricks up his sleeve, neither of which were in his favor right now.
[spoiler=I RAN SO FAR AWAY (INFO; 9/14)][size=8pt]GENERAL
-Praxis Terzi | Cisgender male, male pronouns | 18 years old | Born June 13
-Unknown sexuality | Single; not looking to grow close with anyone like that
-Resident of NorthStar District (for now; may choose to wander off later)
PHYSICALITY
-Shaggy, curly black hair; perpetually messy | Sharp, vivid green eyes; almond-rectangular shape
-Willowy and slender | Weighs in around 105 pounds, so he's a bit underweight, but not greatly
-Stands at 5'6 | Gains a few inches from the heels of his combat boots (5'8 while worn)
-Unblemished for the most part, but has faint scars all along the knuckles of both hands
-Tends to wear baggier clothing in layers, to seem both more muscular and larger than he is
-Owns a Smith & Wesson Model 642 kept in his pocket | Also owns a small combat knife
PERSONALITY
-Convinced he needs to be the "bad guy" to survive, so many traits are faked/forced
-Sharp-tongued and typically hostile | Keeps to himself and rarely socializes willingly
-More timid than he reveals | Self-serving, though with his own strain of sympathy
-Honestly just a mess with a shit-ton of guilt and confusion (with morality, especially)
"Way to endear yourself by being a fucking nuisance." A sharp frown occupied much of Praxis' features, distaste evident throughout his expression, green eyes narrowed and nose wrinkled. There were better ways of announcing oneself, and however hard he worked at making himself the greatest thorn in everyone else's sides, not even he would have tried to garner attention like this, raucous and irritating. He was tempted to keep on walking and leave her here after the terse acknowledgement, but Praxis didn't know what the hell she would do if that happened. People weren't exactly trustworthy in this day-and-age, as he'd had to learn so hastily in the last year after spending all of his life secluded. So he begrudgingly approached, hands in his pockets and a pinch between his brows. "What do you want?" He was tense, tenser than what could be seen beyond his many layers of clothing, because again, he didn't know her, and he couldn't trust her. Maybe she was part of a ploy, a distraction while the real event occurred elsewhere, or maybe she wanted him to come close enough to pull a weapon on him through the links. That was why he kept a careful distance away from the much taller stranger. He couldn't defend himself very well, not without the element of surprise on his side or tricks up his sleeve, neither of which were in his favor right now.
[spoiler=I RAN SO FAR AWAY (INFO; 9/14)][size=8pt]GENERAL
-Praxis Terzi | Cisgender male, male pronouns | 18 years old | Born June 13
-Unknown sexuality | Single; not looking to grow close with anyone like that
-Resident of NorthStar District (for now; may choose to wander off later)
PHYSICALITY
-Shaggy, curly black hair; perpetually messy | Sharp, vivid green eyes; almond-rectangular shape
-Willowy and slender | Weighs in around 105 pounds, so he's a bit underweight, but not greatly
-Stands at 5'6 | Gains a few inches from the heels of his combat boots (5'8 while worn)
-Unblemished for the most part, but has faint scars all along the knuckles of both hands
-Tends to wear baggier clothing in layers, to seem both more muscular and larger than he is
-Owns a Smith & Wesson Model 642 kept in his pocket | Also owns a small combat knife
PERSONALITY
-Convinced he needs to be the "bad guy" to survive, so many traits are faked/forced
-Sharp-tongued and typically hostile | Keeps to himself and rarely socializes willingly
-More timid than he reveals | Self-serving, though with his own strain of sympathy
-Honestly just a mess with a shit-ton of guilt and confusion (with morality, especially)
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IT'S
RAINING
RAINING
MEN