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King of Dogs

Howl howl, sugar

0 · 700 views · located in Tauvyr Tavern

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by CrashQueen

Description

The King of Dogs, or Perro familiarly. A post-apocalyptic hellhound, hailing from a very different time and place. Spectral in nature, kind of like a bizarro Black Shuck, standing at around 8 feet at the haunches. He is truly a monster.
Have a cute sketch

Image

This is his human form. When he's not wearing the mask he keeps his face shaded by his hood. He probably looks handsome but who would care to pester him?

Image

Personality

He is smart as a whip and well-learned, having once been a man in a past-life.
But he very rarely shows it because being a dumb animal is so much easier.

So begins...

King of Dogs's Story

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This place pulled on him in a way the King of Dogs couldn't describe, but he could tell that this was the epicenter of this new plane of existence. These weren't the Zones. Too crowded, too put-together. And it reeked of something similar to the Destroya, but was not. He didn't know what to make of it.

The dog-masked figure stepped through the doors and surveyed the emptiness of the place before settling in. It was familiar- he'd used to frequent bars in a past life, but such things barely interested him now.

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Realizing that nobody was here, he could drop the formal guise and be himself, which was just as well. It got cramped in that disguise, despite his ethereal nature.

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King of Dogs stretched himself out by the hearth, tossing his head and humming lightly. The heat from the flame reminded him of his native home, so he hoarded as much of it as he good, which was easy, given he was the size of a large horse and then some.

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Perro eyed Etur (you know, the way one can without actual eyes) and gave another investigatory sniff back. There was something distinctly lupine in her scent, and it intrigued him. Werewolves and anything like it were things of myth where he hailed from,skinwalkers, as they were called. Only entities of his nature could change form.
And he could have put his human guise back on, but why bother?
"I won't bite," he encouraged lightly, his voice that of a younger man.

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The hound creature grinned as much as his bony face would allow. "No, but it doesn't really matter, I suppose. I can see just fine without them." He shifted and tucked his massive paws underneath him more like a cat would.
He was interesting, a skull face, silky white hair until you hit his chest and body, where pink skin and sinew was exposed, ribs and spine like armor laying along the top, almost as if he'd been turned inside out. The ruffs around his feet and his tail seemed to flick and be more like white fire than anything tangible. He was created to intimidate.

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"Because I'm an entity I suppose. i don't have to make any logical sense. I just have to look creepy enough to scare people into not being dickwads. At least, that's how it worked back home." He wagged his fluffy tail. "Here, not so sure. Already you're foreign to me, you smell like a wolf but you obviously aren't."

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He eyed her drink with the look every dog gives a person when they want what they're eating or drinking, but he kept to the floor, too comfy by the fire to move. "Skinwalker..." he repeated, "wolf in sheep's clothing, then."

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He darted out a pink tongue to lap at the drink, manners? What were those? "Oh...anh. You might call them werewolves around here..." he clarified. "That's the only thing I can come up with to explain how you are human and yet you claim to be a wolf.
Though he preferred to lap up the blood offered to him as a token of appreciation, he supposed this drink, whatever it was, quenched his thirst the same.

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"Is it now?" The spectral hound chuckled and finished the first drink. "What is the difference, exactly?"
He could go on about himself, but he preferred to remain modest. He personally knew he was a magnificent beast, but actions spoke louder than boasting.

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"Just a spectral hound," he replied. "Guardian spirit. I've got a human guise too, but I don't much like putting it on. It's itchy." He sat up, towering over Etur even still. "I chase wicked people around, it's a pretty sweet gig." He wagged his tail again. "But as long as you're not trying to be a chaotic douche, I'm harmless."

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"Then i have no choice but to put you on my shit list," Perro teased. "Never eaten a void wolf before." He rose to his feet and yawned massively, his tongue curling, the inside of his bony maw all wet and pink and very much alive.
It was, for now, an empty threat. He'd probably have to adapt to a new environment, where the good were few and far in between and the evil stifling.
Well, he supposed he'd never go hungry.

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He did like games. The spectral hound crouched low, his but in the air and his tail wagging playfully. "If I catch you you can't start whining about it-" he began. "You are no different from a squirrel in this scenario."
He was being good natured about it, even as he snapped at Etur's teasing hand. And when she ran, he went bowling after her, barking all the way.

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The dog pounced her and pinned her to the ground with his giant paws. "Squirrels are snacks, that's how so~" he taunted, and licked her across the face with his pink tongue, tail still wagging. "I'm a dog, remember?"

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That was probably awkward, given he was a very large dog, somewhere around 7 feet at the shoulders. But he tilted his head back and exposed his throat submissively, his tail still wagging all the while. "Fine, you win. I was just playing, you know. There's bigger fish to catch, I figure."
He stayed under her on his back, so blissfully happy as dogs were wont to be.
He noticed Zafina and called out. "Hello, we were just rough-housing-"

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Perro righted himself from underneath Etur and shook his head. In case the patrons hadn't noticed the giant spectral hound hanging about. His silky fur whispered when he shook his head, and it was only a shame he didn't wear a collar to jingle to further alert the people around to his presence.

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King of Dogs could smell the food and he looked at it longingly, as dogs do. He moved himself to sit regally by the fire and observed the patrons. Demonic auras were familiar to him, so Sinder didn't throw him off his game, but he stared at her in particular, because she had the most interesting scent of the lot of them.

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He took that to be an invitation and he padded over, sniffing delicately. "Demon," he commented simply. "Good to know not everything is alien to me wherever this place is." Such a shame that he was more or less the anti-thesis to a demon, but he was willing to put aside such things for a chance at conversation and learning about the new surroundings he'd found himself in.

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King of Dogs returned a smile just as manufactured. "Don't riddle me this, demon. We all know you're just spewing bullshit." He'd dealt with enough 'enigma's to last him a lifetime. His voice was rough, experienced, and far from mystical or booming. Despite being a fancy spirit, he was very much tied to the earthlier plane of existence.

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King of Dogs was more or less tactless about the food and he padded over to the plate on the ground and picked up a bit of the meat in his teeth before tossing it down his throat. Numnumnum.
He wagged his tail and perked his ears forward.
Sinder's chiding left him wondering if she was among those 'bound' demons.
But here was meat, so he didn't care THAT much. It was easier to let reasoning and sapience go to enjoy the simple, more animal pleasures.

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King of Dogs entered the bar in his natural spectral state, given he couldn't be assed to even try for a human form today. He sniffed the air idly as he moved through the area; ah sweat, alcohol, and crushed dreams. Eau de Gambits.
He settled down by the fire to warm himself up, tucking his paws beneath him in a more catlike fashion.

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King of Dogs entered the bar with nary a flourish, simply pushing the door open with his skull-like head. The nuclear hellhound sniffed around, the air hissing inside his hollow snout before he made for the fire, the heat a pleasant reminder of the desert he left behind. He still didn't understand how he got here. One thing was for certain, he certainly EARNED his name with his regal appearance, what wasn't flesh was covered in fluffy white fur that flowed with an ethereal quality along his spine, tail, and heels.

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The monstrous hound yawned, curling a pink tongue across ivory chops as he watched what appeared to be another slowly burgeoning melodrama take place. He could smell the lingering gunpowder on the air. Something happened here, and he'd missed it, roaming the wastes like he did. They were the closest thing to home he had. The reason for coming here was simple enough, food without worry and cheap alcohol. He debated whether he wanted to assume a more agreeable form to take these things, but decided against it. He waited, snagged a passing barbot in his teeth, and growled out an order before releasing the machine. Hopefully THAT would sink in.
Just as his fangs had, leaving perfectly round punctures in the robots' metal shell.

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King of Dogs snorted awake from where he'd been laid out on the floor, an untouched drink in a bowl laid out beside him, along with a now cold, cross piece of chicken. With a small lick of his long tongue, he snatched the chicken up and then stuck his bony snout into the bowl to drink up his whiskey.

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The masked man entered the bar, deciding today might be a good day to actually use his hands. He settled at the bar and ordered a whiskey sour. He observed the people through the eyes of his mask and shrugged. Not that they'd pay much attention to the desert punk.

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"Shiny, thanks mate," he growled out, pulling his mask up just enough to free his lips up to knock back the whiskey sour. His teeth, when they flashed in the yellowed light, were obviously not as human as the rest of him.
He placed the appropriate amount of currency on the bar.