Thread:Feed Her To The Wolves/@comment-34928186-20200107004931/@comment-36459171-20200107013110

hazbin hotel i see hehe,,,, really lovin angel dust)

Sojiro Hanzo, or Han for short, had unsurprisingly been grounded. Unlike his first name, which in one of his father's languages, Genji, that was defined as 'Wise boy', this reckless teen was everything but that. He had been suspended from school for beating up a kid that stepped on his shoe- like really beat up, to the point where it was way over board. It's not like Han even cared though, he'd usually ditch classes to hang out with the other shady delinquent kids anyways, despite his fathers' many lectures and punishments. So now he lay on his messy bed with nothing but sweatpants and a graphic tee from an artist he really adored.

Han was every bit the trouble child, however he wouldn't do anything actually illegal, like murder or drugs, he wasn't that bad, but he wasn't cooperative either. His parents had hoped that getting him involved in some activities would convert him to being the good child they wanted. And so he took up boxing and archery, something his two fathers both seemed really proud about, seeing as they had some fighting experience themselves, and admittedly enjoyed it. Archery stuck out the most though, it seemed to come naturally to him.

He had been indulging in an RPG until his phone gave a buzz, pausing the game so that he could take a look, Opening the message, he could see that it was from Nirvana, and glancing towards the picture of her looking quite smug with a beat up kid in the corner, he gave a mischievous grin, reading the follow up message. His fingers tapped against the screen, hitting the send button,

''damn, u guys looked like u had a blast. wish i was there. i can try to sneak out, but somehow my dads always know. so fucking creepy dude.''

Setting his phone back down, he continued playing his game.

-

Lucky for Nirvana, Kars had marched right in through the door the moment just before she returned, dirt speckling his hands and a bit on his face, over his khaki uniform. For such an intimidating looking man, he was quite the character.

When his wife had walked in on him dying his curls purple for the first time, she was definitely shocked and had asked what he was doing. He simply shrugged, muttering "I like purple." Ever since then he had been continuing to dye his hair every time the colour began to wear out. It also struck others that he was a zoologist and was a gardener as a hobby, often getting remarks such as Hey, you could be like a bodybuilder!' Or the other spoken statement, Ain't he a hottie?' Still, there was no denying that he could and would punch your lights out if he so choose, and it didn't matter who it was. Knowing of the No Shoes In The House rule, he kicked off his muddied boots and threw off his jacket, passing by the kitchen momentarily to say hi, though paused when he noticed Nirvana seemed a little scuffed up- or rather, her uniform. He immediately knew what had happened.

"You kicked their ass, right?"