Post by Needmorefood on Oct 28, 2014 10:35:16 GMT -5
He walked down the streets with an easy stride, and people parted before him like water. Honestly, who wouldn't? Never mind that he was an officer; Zach was a tall, feline humanoid with dark fur and a white short mane. His silver eyes roamed over the wandering crowd almost lazily, though he was alert for anything that looked suspicious. No one really wanted to be grouped with him, being so obviously "Mixed Blood" as they put it. It didn't matter much to him though; he had a job, so he would do it to the best of his abilities. Which was why he was out and about now, searching for any signs of gang-play. That was one of the reasons he was sent here, he remembered.
"You're going to Mars in order to reinforce some of the officer troops there. Lots of rebellious ruffians have decided to make 'gangs' to oppose their rightful rulers and generally make a mess of things. While it's cute, it's also a hindrance. Go put an end to these gangs and prove how useful you can be to us."
Zach smiled slightly in remembrance of his mission. Dressed in a large black trench coat with a grey shirt underneath and black slacks, he strode through the streets with a particular grace definitely given to him from one of his feline bloodlines. Whether it was panther or saber tooth, he couldn't tell. He knew he was a sort of hybrid, and came to terms with it. The ones who didn't seem to understand or truly accept it were those around him with "Pure Blood." Even the people he worked with weren't exactly happy to work with him.
He walked into the small office, escorted one either side by soldiers. The head officer turned to him and promptly sneered, though Zach maintained his cool head despite the obvious scorn towards him. "I ask for soldiers, and they give me this? Some furry in trousers? Pfft. Wonderful." The man griped, throwing his hands up in frustration and shaking his head. Zach straightened himself out, grasping his hands behind his back.
"Sir, permission to speak?" He asked. The commanding officer looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but begrudgingly nodded at the formal request. "I know I'm not exactly the help you expect nor wanted, but all I ask is to prove I can be of use. If I fail at my job, I'll be recalled and you won't have to worry about me. If I do well, you'll have another useful hand around." Zach shrugged. "So far, you have nothing to lose and everything to gain." The officer frowned at him, but the wheels in his head were definitely turning. Finally he sighed and waved Zach out of his office dismissively.
"Fine, fine. Get out there." He commanded. Zach nodded and prepared to leave, but then the officer shouted "What's your name?"
"Zachariah Demonte, sir."
Zach chuckled deeply at the memory. They really didn't think highly of him, did they? Though he had been a good help lately, breaking up a few crimes and busting some drug dealers on the street. So far, the communing officer had no reason to be rid of him yet. Zach planned to keep it that way. He continued his way down the street, easily looking over the heads of humans to search for suspicious behavior.
"You're going to Mars in order to reinforce some of the officer troops there. Lots of rebellious ruffians have decided to make 'gangs' to oppose their rightful rulers and generally make a mess of things. While it's cute, it's also a hindrance. Go put an end to these gangs and prove how useful you can be to us."
Zach smiled slightly in remembrance of his mission. Dressed in a large black trench coat with a grey shirt underneath and black slacks, he strode through the streets with a particular grace definitely given to him from one of his feline bloodlines. Whether it was panther or saber tooth, he couldn't tell. He knew he was a sort of hybrid, and came to terms with it. The ones who didn't seem to understand or truly accept it were those around him with "Pure Blood." Even the people he worked with weren't exactly happy to work with him.
He walked into the small office, escorted one either side by soldiers. The head officer turned to him and promptly sneered, though Zach maintained his cool head despite the obvious scorn towards him. "I ask for soldiers, and they give me this? Some furry in trousers? Pfft. Wonderful." The man griped, throwing his hands up in frustration and shaking his head. Zach straightened himself out, grasping his hands behind his back.
"Sir, permission to speak?" He asked. The commanding officer looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but begrudgingly nodded at the formal request. "I know I'm not exactly the help you expect nor wanted, but all I ask is to prove I can be of use. If I fail at my job, I'll be recalled and you won't have to worry about me. If I do well, you'll have another useful hand around." Zach shrugged. "So far, you have nothing to lose and everything to gain." The officer frowned at him, but the wheels in his head were definitely turning. Finally he sighed and waved Zach out of his office dismissively.
"Fine, fine. Get out there." He commanded. Zach nodded and prepared to leave, but then the officer shouted "What's your name?"
"Zachariah Demonte, sir."
Zach chuckled deeply at the memory. They really didn't think highly of him, did they? Though he had been a good help lately, breaking up a few crimes and busting some drug dealers on the street. So far, the communing officer had no reason to be rid of him yet. Zach planned to keep it that way. He continued his way down the street, easily looking over the heads of humans to search for suspicious behavior.