10-30-2008, 01:31 PM
(This post was last modified: 10-30-2008, 01:36 PM by Frisk E. Coyote.)
OOC: Is it okay if I use a Hooker with a Fursona as a temporary NPC?
IC:
Ray was having a regular day at the University. Regular meaning he got his coffee poured on his head, his third pair of glasses flicked off and stomped on, his cupcake mashed and a C- on his latest math test results. He couldn't understand why he and math couldn't get along, seeing as he got A's in every other subject, just barely scraping an A- in history. In his opinion, History was stupid. This was the fourth country he's moved to and the fourth National History Subject he had to take up in order to pass. He was born in the U.A.E., where they deported him to the Philippines, where he moved to Ireland where he relocated to the U.S. of A. Granted things could've been worse. He could've had terrible English. Or worse, he could be British! They've been EVERYWHERE!
"Oh yay, History! Don't you love History? I love History! Something happens... AND THEN SOMETHING ELSE HAPPENS!! Weee!" He thought to himself sarcastically during class that day, rolling his eyes. He could barely keep his eyes open thanks to that loud banging on the roof of the apartment he lived in that woke him up at around 2:30AM. Unable to sleep, he proceeded to post at a Furry website and look up porn. There were many things he admitted to people to freak them out, outing himself as a Furry wasn't one of them. Leaning back against his seat, he dozed off silently. His fourth pair of glasses were tinted so they reflected light in a way that always hid his eyes. The lecture hall was full, so he was certain no one would notice if he took a snooze.
[Generic, Dark Urban Alleyway]
"S'cuse me, ms.?" Said a six-foot-five figure in what seemed to be an army ensemble, complete with helmet, combat pants and a camo-shirt as he tapped a moonlighting prostitute on the shoulder, asking for directions. "I was wondering if-"
"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYIII!!" The prostitute squealed without warning, walloping the figure repeatedly with her heavy, cosmetics-filled handbag. "GET AWAY FROM ME YOU- YOU- DOG- MAN- THING-" She screamed, facing away while she swung at him blindly.
"Lady- OW- I just wanted to- YOW!! Hey, COME ON now- AH- YIPE- OW- OW- HEY- NO- GAH!!" The figure doubled back, his helmet had been knocked off, revealing he was some sort of Bipedal Coyote. "MS, YOU'RE KILLIN' ME HERE!!" He managed to yell out.
With that statement, the prostitute stopped hitting him and looked up at him in disbelief. "You... talk."
The coyote rubbed his cheek gingerly. "Yes, oh God, yes, I talk. Whoop-tee-doo, THE HELL'D YOU ASSAULT ME FOR!?" He complained.
"Well you came out of no where and- OHMYGAWDYOU'RECUTE." The heavily makeup-ed woman blurted the last sentence out in one go.
"Sorry, what?" The coyote perked his ear up, cocking a brow.
"I want to pet you... some how..." She said, cracking her knuckles and wiggling her fingers in a threatening manner. Not exactly the reaction the Coyote-man thing was looking for.
"Look, lady, I just wanna know where Avenue E is." The Coyote said exasperatedly. "The name's Prowl by the way. In case y'know, I get stabbed and someone tags my bod. SAY, you a hooker?" He asked with interest.
"Sorry, I don't do... dogs." The woman stated, her mind clearing up a little.
"No, no, I just- I'm not a dog, I'm a Coyote, big difference!" Prowl retorted.
"Dog, Coyote, Poodle, I don't do animals!" The woman replied.
Prowl rubbed his forehead. "I'll talk slowly. I just thought its interesting, cuz if Hollywood's right, you guys have hearts of gold, and I kind of need a place to stay tonight..."
The hooker sighed, and leaned against the alley wall. She took a cigarette out and lit it, taking a long drag before she replied again. "Look, sweetie, I don't know what you are, where you came from, what your pedigree is, but I can't even keep a dog. There's no way I can keep... you."
Prowl scratched the back of his head lazily before grinning. "I'll work, make you some dough. Eh, you don't have a pimp do you?" He asked, ears flattening expectantly.
"No, I'm a mother of two." She replied dully. "I'm listening..."
IC:
Ray was having a regular day at the University. Regular meaning he got his coffee poured on his head, his third pair of glasses flicked off and stomped on, his cupcake mashed and a C- on his latest math test results. He couldn't understand why he and math couldn't get along, seeing as he got A's in every other subject, just barely scraping an A- in history. In his opinion, History was stupid. This was the fourth country he's moved to and the fourth National History Subject he had to take up in order to pass. He was born in the U.A.E., where they deported him to the Philippines, where he moved to Ireland where he relocated to the U.S. of A. Granted things could've been worse. He could've had terrible English. Or worse, he could be British! They've been EVERYWHERE!
"Oh yay, History! Don't you love History? I love History! Something happens... AND THEN SOMETHING ELSE HAPPENS!! Weee!" He thought to himself sarcastically during class that day, rolling his eyes. He could barely keep his eyes open thanks to that loud banging on the roof of the apartment he lived in that woke him up at around 2:30AM. Unable to sleep, he proceeded to post at a Furry website and look up porn. There were many things he admitted to people to freak them out, outing himself as a Furry wasn't one of them. Leaning back against his seat, he dozed off silently. His fourth pair of glasses were tinted so they reflected light in a way that always hid his eyes. The lecture hall was full, so he was certain no one would notice if he took a snooze.
[Generic, Dark Urban Alleyway]
"S'cuse me, ms.?" Said a six-foot-five figure in what seemed to be an army ensemble, complete with helmet, combat pants and a camo-shirt as he tapped a moonlighting prostitute on the shoulder, asking for directions. "I was wondering if-"
"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYIII!!" The prostitute squealed without warning, walloping the figure repeatedly with her heavy, cosmetics-filled handbag. "GET AWAY FROM ME YOU- YOU- DOG- MAN- THING-" She screamed, facing away while she swung at him blindly.
"Lady- OW- I just wanted to- YOW!! Hey, COME ON now- AH- YIPE- OW- OW- HEY- NO- GAH!!" The figure doubled back, his helmet had been knocked off, revealing he was some sort of Bipedal Coyote. "MS, YOU'RE KILLIN' ME HERE!!" He managed to yell out.
With that statement, the prostitute stopped hitting him and looked up at him in disbelief. "You... talk."
The coyote rubbed his cheek gingerly. "Yes, oh God, yes, I talk. Whoop-tee-doo, THE HELL'D YOU ASSAULT ME FOR!?" He complained.
"Well you came out of no where and- OHMYGAWDYOU'RECUTE." The heavily makeup-ed woman blurted the last sentence out in one go.
"Sorry, what?" The coyote perked his ear up, cocking a brow.
"I want to pet you... some how..." She said, cracking her knuckles and wiggling her fingers in a threatening manner. Not exactly the reaction the Coyote-man thing was looking for.
"Look, lady, I just wanna know where Avenue E is." The Coyote said exasperatedly. "The name's Prowl by the way. In case y'know, I get stabbed and someone tags my bod. SAY, you a hooker?" He asked with interest.
"Sorry, I don't do... dogs." The woman stated, her mind clearing up a little.
"No, no, I just- I'm not a dog, I'm a Coyote, big difference!" Prowl retorted.
"Dog, Coyote, Poodle, I don't do animals!" The woman replied.
Prowl rubbed his forehead. "I'll talk slowly. I just thought its interesting, cuz if Hollywood's right, you guys have hearts of gold, and I kind of need a place to stay tonight..."
The hooker sighed, and leaned against the alley wall. She took a cigarette out and lit it, taking a long drag before she replied again. "Look, sweetie, I don't know what you are, where you came from, what your pedigree is, but I can't even keep a dog. There's no way I can keep... you."
Prowl scratched the back of his head lazily before grinning. "I'll work, make you some dough. Eh, you don't have a pimp do you?" He asked, ears flattening expectantly.
"No, I'm a mother of two." She replied dully. "I'm listening..."
![[Image: self_centered_coyote_by_kerol-d2zmoca.png]](http://i1223.photobucket.com/albums/dd505/Frisky_E_Coyote/Frisk%20Me/self_centered_coyote_by_kerol-d2zmoca.png)
"I don't suffer from insanity, I enjoy every minute of it!"
