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More from BodyxCount
might as well post this here :U
even though in the story, he isn't an anthro. *horror*
(i lav Jirk <3 just about my most favorite character. i've had him a while.)
The city was barren.
Broken, skeletal buildings, piles of trash and rubble, dead rusty cars lining the streets of an urban wasteland. A huge bone-white full moon hung in the sky, casting the desolation in a serene silver glow.
Jirk took a slow drag on his cigarette, scanning the Godforsaken landscape with slitted eyes from the roof of a barely-standing skyscraper.
Dropping the cigarette, he ground it beneath his boot as he turned away, simultaneously pulling a creased photo from inside his faded black bomber jacket. A girl, mid-teens, red hair and green eyes. Mediocre looks. As he studied her face, he wondered again why he’d taken the job. Not for the money, since the client could only produce a fraction of what Jirk would usually require for a search and extraction.
Something about her, the girl in the photo.
Jirk stuffed the picture back inside his jacket and strode again to the edge of the skyscraper. He stepped agilely onto the ledge, paused to scan the cityscape again and pull his goggles over his eyes, and then pushed off.
A moment of seemingly-weightless freedom before he landed on his feet on an adjacent, shorter building, knees bent to absorb the impact. He could feel the whole dilapitated building reverbrate.
A pile of small bones rattled as he sauntered past them without a glance; no need for stealth because there was nothing here. Squatters below, if anything. No threats (which wasn’t to say he wasn’t prepared for the off-chance that there was).
High-calibur guns on swinging against both hips had worn lighter spots in his dark gray jeans. He hated guns, but these two had become comforting weights at each side. They were the most effective Infected deterrant short of grenades and atomic bombs; Jirk hoped he wouldn’t have to use them.
The city was located close to one of the several sites the top world-governments had chosen to drop bombs on in an attempt to stave the spread of the Infection. It appeared dead on the surface, but he had it on good authority that there were people beginning to thrive here again, closer to the old downtown.
And somewhere in the hellhole, his mark was hiding, guaranteeing a good hunt.
Jirk smiled.
~
even though in the story, he isn't an anthro. *horror*
(i lav Jirk <3 just about my most favorite character. i've had him a while.)
The city was barren.
Broken, skeletal buildings, piles of trash and rubble, dead rusty cars lining the streets of an urban wasteland. A huge bone-white full moon hung in the sky, casting the desolation in a serene silver glow.
Jirk took a slow drag on his cigarette, scanning the Godforsaken landscape with slitted eyes from the roof of a barely-standing skyscraper.
Dropping the cigarette, he ground it beneath his boot as he turned away, simultaneously pulling a creased photo from inside his faded black bomber jacket. A girl, mid-teens, red hair and green eyes. Mediocre looks. As he studied her face, he wondered again why he’d taken the job. Not for the money, since the client could only produce a fraction of what Jirk would usually require for a search and extraction.
Something about her, the girl in the photo.
Jirk stuffed the picture back inside his jacket and strode again to the edge of the skyscraper. He stepped agilely onto the ledge, paused to scan the cityscape again and pull his goggles over his eyes, and then pushed off.
A moment of seemingly-weightless freedom before he landed on his feet on an adjacent, shorter building, knees bent to absorb the impact. He could feel the whole dilapitated building reverbrate.
A pile of small bones rattled as he sauntered past them without a glance; no need for stealth because there was nothing here. Squatters below, if anything. No threats (which wasn’t to say he wasn’t prepared for the off-chance that there was).
High-calibur guns on swinging against both hips had worn lighter spots in his dark gray jeans. He hated guns, but these two had become comforting weights at each side. They were the most effective Infected deterrant short of grenades and atomic bombs; Jirk hoped he wouldn’t have to use them.
The city was located close to one of the several sites the top world-governments had chosen to drop bombs on in an attempt to stave the spread of the Infection. It appeared dead on the surface, but he had it on good authority that there were people beginning to thrive here again, closer to the old downtown.
And somewhere in the hellhole, his mark was hiding, guaranteeing a good hunt.
Jirk smiled.
~
Category Artwork (Traditional) / General Furry Art
Species Canine (Other)
Size 701 x 951px
File Size 236.6 kB
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