The Howler of Zaun (Ask Warwick)

https://media.comicbook.com/2019/01/league-of-legends-warwick-1154580-1280x0.jpeg There was something that came along with the pain that the injections of the chemicals came with. A pain indescribable in comparison to all the other pains that he had went through. His memories flashed, like fleeting thoughts that as soon as he thought of them, they were gone. Remembering the person who he was before Singed? Impossible, but that didn't stop memories from being thrust upon him whenever he completed a hunt that triggered one. It always ended with more questions, little to no answers ever given to him. Warwick wasn't sure if it was a blessing or a curse that he could never remember the man before. All he knew was, he was not that man anymore, he killed that man. Or so Singed may have, as even those memories proved difficult to remember as his mind ran in circles like a dog chasing it's tail. Sometimes he strayed from Zaun's cold streets, moving into the Gray where he would find easy pickings for food. As the biggest monsters of Zaun, typically lingered just outside the city walls. He never knew what he would find there, not that Warwick cared much of what he found. As long as the person was covered in blood of others, then that person was marked for death. ---------------------------- Hi, you can call me Carrion. I'm a Warwick Jungler main, and will be roleplaying him as well. Just letting you know that he can be abrasive at times, and at first he isn't going to be open to talking much so personal questions will likely be ignored as he can hardly answer those things for himself. Let me know if I need to add anything!

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(( hey Warwick May I add you on discord? :D
> **Unexisted \(NA\) said:** (( hey Warwick May I add you on discord? :D (( Go right ahead! carrion#6666 ))
*Having just awoken, Meitro yawned and streched, slowly getting up and gathering her instrument; their neck popped, two three times, the Somaticorda slowly pulsating to life. She slowly wandered out from the vent that had been her home of sixteen years, save the three that she had spent abroad, beginning to work with the device mounted to her forearm; With a tap and a slide, a solid beat dribbling out for a moment before record-scratching back to the start.* *Out of the vent, she continued forwards and began to play it a little harder; of the little foot-travel pathing going to and from her seat, a few people laid cogs into the sack she kept near her foot as the music played. For hours, Meitro worked on the song; a heavy bass slam every third fifth with a string of light beats and tones between the slams. The music worked it's way forwards, more and more complete, before winding down by around midday, where she finally took a break for a while to look back to the pouch.* *No more than a handful of coppers and maybe a silver cog.* *Meitro sighed, slowly standing up, beginning to walk off to get some decent food, when someone slammed them down and stole the pouch, running to a corner. Meitro chased them down, and managed to corner the person who done stole her coin, only to be shot in the side and knocked to the ground.* *The man that stole, some grinning mech'd up thug, aimed downwards at her head, slowly readying the weapon...* ((where this continues is up to you. Sorry if the opener seems a little disruptive, but I didn't feel like wasting your time with non-interactions would be a good idea.))
There was something not right, Warwick could hear the voices clearly even while he was a good distance away from the origin. It was typical that there was petty thieves on the street, but the one he smelled in that moment was much more bloodied than the common petty thief in Zaun. Another one of his prey, he could smell the scent of blood, the scent driving him to another extreme as the chemicals pumped through his veins. He howled as he followed the scent, drinking it in as he grew closer. It took him a several moments to realize that he nearly was hurting the wrong person. Jumping over and looking at the cornered thief with a glare, not a voice in that moment as he leaped at the man, attempting to bring him to the ground. The werewolf was well-known in Zaun after long and multiple hunts, many have come to fear him, for good reason. The blood that brought him there, was clean as far as he could tell. They were not the thieves and murderers that thrived off the harsh streets of Zaun, what was important was the creature that he had to destroy before any further blood was split. The only blood spilled after that point would be the thief's.
> **Zaun Howler \(NA\) said:** *He looked up, in shock, aiming and firing once, twice, a third time-* *Jammed.* *The man yelled, backing up against the wall, and began clawing at it, trying desperately to get over it, only for their hands to get bloodied and cut on the sharpened edges, upward-angled spikes keeping them penned in as the predator slowly moved forwards.* *They screamed as the monster ripped into their flesh, cried as their throat was crushed, and died as their chest was ripped into.* *Meitro watched, wide-eyed and terrified, slowly pushing herself away, trying to stay back from the beast she had known and had seen once before, now once again. The gunshot wound was still bleeding badly, and Meitro was growing slightly weaker with every push until she was against a wall, holding the wound tight, in tears.*
Warwick had pulled himself up onto his back two paws as he finished the man's execution, taking a sniff of the air as the blood from Meitro's wounds brought his attention to him. He didn't move as fast as he had in comparison to the man, going back on all fours and moving over to her. No words were given, but he had a feeling that she knew him or so it seemed. Not in the same way as others did, possibly. It wasn't his thing to get muddled in the deadbeats of Zaun, there was too many to count. The werewolf had gotten better control over himself overtime, able to tell what wounds would set him into a fit and which ones wouldn't. Many people would say there isn't a difference, but Warwick felt that as soon as he saw the way someone reacted to him, then it was their judgement day. _"You."_ Warwick grunted out, stopping a few feet from the Somaticorda. It was his attempt to keep himself from letting the chemicals take over his typically straightforward brain. It had taken much time to get such control, but after so long of being on his own, without the touch and adjustments that Singed constantly made before. It grew easier each time that he frenzied. _"What is your name?"_ He asked himself mentally in his head why he would ask for it, but it felt somehow wrong to leave after he devoured the man who stole from her. _Oh, the pouch._ Warwick then remembered the reason for it, moving back and grabbing it in his mouth. He quickly dropped it in her lap, moving away quickly to avoid the alluring scent of blood. His next move was to jump up onto the stone wall that separated the city line with the Gray.
((I actually have an OC from Zaun which is [Esteliasa](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1p91EsTctYc_V4S1H47KnqI34LNLxM7lQPHanMMzNYSg/edit?usp=drivesdk) but I'm currently working on my 7th which is also going to be from Zaun, [Ky'eisha](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1px4lNgkwPDAsMInKS06e9VAAULDd5rBNj_j0wzk1m7w/edit?usp=drivesdk). I haven't gotten much done on her so I'll hold off on this while I continue working on her . [Aurelia](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1c0LygNgmcsXpwEjCah7d2F0PiFOHuYXmrdA0GqDZ4p4/edit?usp=drivesdk) could also be a valid option, but I haven't complete Aurelia's relationships or lore as of yet .))
> **Zaun Howler \(NA\) said:** *Meitro pressed back as the creature grew close, her breath getting slightly faster, face turning to the side until it backed up slightly, speaking to her. Shocked to say the least, she didn't respond for a few seconds, looking at them as they turned back and picked up the coin pouch with their canine jaws, dropping it in her lap, a dribble of blood visible on the pocket-purse.* "Mei... Meitro..." *She moved her hand away from the wound, her own fluids spilling out at a steady rate.* *Meitro stared at it, stared at the blood flowing out unstoppable, unable to-* *Wait. There was that wrapping around the man's arm, but... it was an arm torn off.* "I can't... stop it..." *At this point, she was shaking, both from shock and blood loss. She picked back up the Somaticorda, slipping the armplate on and tapping about with it, setting on an old song string that she'd always found soothing.* "The bandage... I..." *Clearly it was Meitro's first time getting shot at, and probably the first time she'd had an injury this dangerous.*
Warwick stiffened up, the blood was irritating him and keeping him on the edge. He grabbed the bandage from the man's arm, going over and wrapping it around Meitro's wound as he wanted to leave. The sound of the Somaticorda soothing his blood-lust just a bit, he moved away from her and went to get ready to leave. _"Stay safe, Meitro, I don't save people, especially not twice."_ His harsh words mainly trying to stop himself from being obliged to stay near the girl any longer as he knew that it wasn't safe for either of them, so if she wanted to stay alive, he needed to go. The werewolf's vision glancing back to Meitro, eyes scanning over her body for any other detrimental wounds that he had to worry about her dying by. It seemed that was the only one, he was thankful for that. _"Now go home."_
(( Feel free to come in whenever they are available, I'm sure we'll figure it out as we go. ))
> **Zaun Howler \(NA\) said:** "I'm not sure if I can." *Meitro tried getting up, having pocketed the coin-bag, leaning incredibly hard on the wall and barely stepping forwards.* "Most of my stuff is up in... well... sub thirty-four, shaft twelve, chamber nine-zed." *The set of terms probably wouldn't have made sense to anyone who's not lived in the vents before - or who haven't used them regularly. That particular position would have been in a hell of a labyrinth for someone's home, but the path it was in would certainly have been a deterrent.* *That, and the fact that it was between three frequently active shafts of Grey.* "I don't think... I'm barely walking as it is, and it's only slowing the bleeding so I shouldn't be dead." "I'll still... try, though." *Meitro turned, looking at the creature that lumbered back to the wall, scratching up along it.* "What... what even are you?"
do you wanna go to taco bell? *turns on my car* i havent been in a while i can pick you up
Warwick was all to used to the undercity of Zaun. The aroma of chemicals was all that covered the scent of the Zaun Gray and the stench of the sewers. It was a wonder anyone lived there. That question didn't matter too much, though. Warwick was going to gut the whole thing if he had his way. That didn't mean the question asked itself every once in a while. A little voice sometimes crept its way into the back of the Howler's mind. He wasn't as mad as people thought he was. He was angry at the world that made him, which was perfectly sensible for the fur covered hybrid of wolf and man. The voice seemed to know that whenever it said something to him. One day, when Warwick had just finished brutalizing a chem baron's enforcer, he would see something that must be impossible in Zaun. A strange white creature with pure white fur was sitting on the ground not far away. It looked like a cross between a sheep and a human. Next to the white being was a black one, which looked like a disembodied wolf. They wore complementary masks. The white mask on the black spirit gave it a more gentle look, and the black mask of the white spirit turned it from looking soft and tender to cold and more heartless than the entire undercity. "So what do you think will happen when you're done killing?" the white spirit asked with the clearly feminine voice that sometimes made itself known in the back of Warwick's head.
(( I will be taking an Away, apologies for everyone who has been waiting on me for a reply. I'm going through some hardships. ))
> **Zaun Howler \(NA\) said:** I'll be waiting for you, friend. Don't worry.

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