BITCH DRINK //p, oallalla

JORMUNGAND

male — the Pitt — bio — pinterest board

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OC TEXT


IC TEXT | IC opinions only

it was a beautiful sunset, and jor had a bottle of alcohol in his left hand and a deagle in the other. he was sitting on top of a certain somebody's house and took a large gulp from the liquid, relishing the way it burned his throat as it went down. he sighed, audibly, a smirk resting onto his lips. the setting sun illuminated his features, his slashed cheekbones. a small gust of wind ruffled his collar, exposing the branded flesh that a certain feisty someone had given him. he inhaled the fresh air deeply, resting his weight onto the palm of his hand, pushing his shoulder out.

taking one last sip from the bottle, which was still full, he chuckled to himself and smashed the bottle on the roof of the house, knocking on the roof with his foot a few times. "oi, olalla." the male called out. "come out here and watch the sun with me! then let's get us some bitches or something. drinks are on you." whilst waiting for a response from the other he'd look out at the sun again.

[member=8745]Olalla[/member]

#psychosocial.

I'VE NEVER FEARED THE DRUMS OF WAR

OLALLA — MALE — PITTIAN — ARDENT — PLOT

Olalla has had a stressful god damn day. Jor "requesting his presence" at the border did not help at all. But he supposed that would be the rest of his days, with Vale here it would be 10 times as harder. The beast yawned before stretching out and casting a tired glare toward the scorching sunset. It was going to be a cold night out here in the desert, and while he thought about it, Olalla didn't ever claim a home or make one. He sort of slept in the temples.

Droplets of... was this aN AlChoLoiC dRiNk???!?!?!?1?1/1/?. Olalla put a paw to his head as it splattered down before licking the pale, muted golden colour. The beast let what little taste rest on his tongue, allowing it to gentle slide to the back of his throat and swallowing. Yep. Jormungand was definitely here. And as expected that dark pelted cat called his name, soaked with sluggishness. " Ugh Jormu-" he began, though cut short with a sharp coaxed. Onto the roof. What. " Im not getting-" once again interrupted. With a sigh, and no money on hand, Olalla scaled the building made up of various materials before begrudgedly sitting next to the dark feline. "Jesus Jormungand," the beast stated in, finally, a full sentence. "You stink."

#psychosocial.

JORMUNGAND

male — the Pitt — bio — pinterest board

[div style="background-color: #292727; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px; height: 340px; padding: 10px;"]

OC TEXT


IC TEXT | IC opinions only

he was aware that all of his words were cutting olalla off, but that was the fun part, taking the piss on  the high and mighty one. he laughed, a gruff sound, watching the other catch the remaining liquid in his tongue. he shifted slightly as the other clambered up the roof, and insulted him. "how can i stink, olalla? i'm wearing perfume and everything." he put his hand to his chest in mock anger, a small gasp leaving him. "plus the night is still young, i haven't even had anything much to drink yet apart from that one drink that i smashed. you free tonight, wanna go out?"

#psychosocial.