What the hell happened to him...?Fuzzy, everything was fuzzy. He felt his consciousness rise back up as he stared up at the morning sky. Sky... Wait... The sky?! He jerked awake, only to see darkness. Of course... He's blind. That was just a mere memory, a fool-hearted memory. Tybalt felt the wood under him tap against his claws, where is he? He knew he was somewhere far from
'home'. He could feel the soft breeze, the ocean waves crashing; could he possibly be on a boat? Impossible simply impossible, he couldn't have gotten far as the middle of the ocean? If he was on a boat, the only way he could have gotten on it was from a land nearby... Ah, hell no. Hell no. Oh hell to-the-fucking no. Did he freakin'
tripped into the boat? There's no chances, there's no way... An
Alpha?
Tripping? This is ridiculous... How could he possibly jump off without the thought of rocks below the ship ready to be covered by his blood? He's stuck on the damn ship now. He wouldn't survive a week could he?
Tybalt immediately pushed the thought away, no! He was much more stronger than this, he was Alpha, he can outrun death, he can satisfy his hunger in the steepest of times. The Garchomp scrunched up his nose in disgust at his thoughts earlier, whether how he got here didn't matter anymore; he was here. And now it's time to nut up, or shut up, because he
will survive. The Dragon/Ground Duel-type Pokemon picked himself up, using his claws to feel his way around him. How troublesome, he's like a weakling if he's depending on his claws to guide him. He forced himself to sniff his way out, only to catch a whiff of food as he subtly passed the stairs leading to below deck. Tybalt paused, there's a chance Undead's around, but for the sake of living he must...
Blood, blood everywhereThe thought of the stench of blood, the merciless killings he had done in order to get the respect he had always wanted... He wanted to vomit. Yet the adrenaline that rushes through his veins when he fights, it was peaceful. The Garchomp dismissed his past memories as he used his claws to guide him once again, his weak nose wouldn't help him find motherfucking stairs... But it was sudden, now that he thought about it. Why has his memories reappeared at such a time? He's not going
crazy is he? There's the possibility... Don't tell him...
Is he growing WEAKER?No, please, no. He can't face it, the Garchomp never wanted to face it. If he's weak, he will be rejected, he won't be needed.
No one would want him. It's clear, if that's how it is, he's getting weaker... Yet why is his heart racing? Nervousness? Is death ready to take him already? It didn't strike him how he was racing through the halls, he was unaware that his body was forcing him to look around for some tasks to do. He needed to get stronger. There must be Undead around here. He'll kill them. He'll kill them ALL. He'll be strong again, and people would want him. They wouldn't reject him anymore, he'll just keep killing, and killing... and killing...
Something snapped him back to reality as he felt something bump against his leg, Tybalt paused, his glassy eyes gazing down at whoever it is. He doesn't smell Undead, is this an illusion?... He forced a growl to come out of him, now's not the time to show weakness,
"Who the hell are you?!" He demanded.
[Ooc: Nice to be rping with you all xD I'm somewhat confused on the turns this round as Lute didn't make a leaving post yet in Castle :'x So I thought I would get a warning the next day if I didn't post now ;; But dunno]