Post by Nefarious on Apr 2, 2019 2:01:34 GMT -5
NEFARIOUS
The Character
Name: Experiment 295 aka Nefarious
Nicknames:Neffy (hates this nickname)
Gender: Male
Age: 3 years old (21 in dog years)
Race: Domestic Dog- Basset Hound (with some experimental science thrown in)
Rank: Outcast
Job: Treasure hunter and Mercenary (kind of a Land Pirate)
Personality:
Nefarious is a dog with more bark than he has bite. Although he can hold his own in a scrap, and loves to test his fighting skills against anyone willing to throw down a wager, he seems to like his fairly new ability to talk and is the kind of pain in the ass that never shuts up. He loves to hear himself speak, to tell stories of his grand conquests and to mesmerize the crowd with some of the shiny trinkets he has collected over the short time that he's been free of the lab. When those stories run dry, he has a long line of jokes and false history, legends and mythology that he can use instead, always interested in entertaining a crowd and always wanting to be center stage, no matter what is going on. He wants the world to see what he can do, takes every bump in the road as a direct challenge, and charges blindly into any situation that his impressive ego dictates for him. Yeah, that's the long way of saying that he's a self-centered prick.
Super self-absorbed, Nefarious thinks he is hot shit. He wants the girls to know it too. He's not really attracted to human women, he is a dog after all, but conquering a woman was just as impressive as conquering a battle field, so like all challenges that come his way, he rises to meet it. When he wants to be, he can actually be quite charming, a bit of a Casanova. But it never lasts, he has his favorite whores that he visits from time to time but he never stays the night and is always gone by morning. He has no commitment skills whatsoever, just a lot of moxy and an interest in seeing how far that will get him. So far, he's done pretty well for himself- he has a wagon pulled by two horses- Zig and Zag- and that wagon is also where he sleeps and where his stores and sells his treasures and trinkets, he's so afraid of commitment he won't even buy a house to settle down in, he is just too interested in the adventure. He loves to travel, to see new worlds, cross new bridges, meet new friends.
Though you have to deal with his ridiculous ego and his tendency to pad his stories, Nefarious is actually not a bad friend to have. He'll tease and poke fun, you'll be the butt of a few jokes you can count on that. But, though he loves to fight and solves most of his problems with his fists- or his two super huge super heavy revolvers- he is actually a somewhat honest, somewhat loyal individual. If he makes a promise, he will stick to it. He doesn't consider contracts to be a promise, if someone comes along with deeper pockets then his changing sides is just business and he feels no guilt about that. But if someone shakes his hand, really gets him to swear on something, he will keep that promise to within an inch of his life.
History:
Most people are born with a name, usually the parents have one all ready and picked out many many weeks or even months in advanced, heck some women are not even pregnant when they decide their baby's names. But Nefarious, he earned his name, deserved it, might as well have picked it out himself. For the beginning of his life, he didn't know what names were. He was just a puppy, a bright-eyed intelligent little pup, at barely 8 weeks old, he had already picked up the 'sit' and 'stay' commands. He was very smart for a dog of his age, something he would later find out came from very careful and selective breeding. He wasn't born intelligent- he was designed to be intelligent, and eventually was designed to do even more.
At first, the experiments were brief and pretty basic to understand. He would swim around in a tank full of water until he was too tired to keep his head above water and then fished out. The scientists never mentioned what exactly the point was but he assumed they were timing him, testing his endurance and building muscle mass. Every time they initiated the test, he could swim faster, and do it for longer and longer periods as he grew. But this was not enough for them, those men in the white coats. Progressively, the tests got more and more invasive. He was running on treadmills, playing tug of war with a carriage horse, tasked to move heavy objects, his vision and memory tested with games and treats. He must've been really good at these things because eventually, they stopped bringing him back to his mother. Slowly, his entire family was phased out and all that he knew of the world was those tests and those scientists, the men in the white coats.
Nefarious was only six months old when the real tests began. He woke up in his cage one morning to an absolutely mind-numbing headache and instinctively he raised a paw to his head. This made him realize that his legs hurt too and when his toes brushed the X-mark of stitches he recognized why. They were longer, or he was more flexible, he really couldn't tell which, but he'd never been able to reach the top of his head before. Closer examination revealed bald spots with stitches all the way up and down his arms- no forelegs, they were forelegs.... right? His mind swam and there was a hum in his ears. He tried to sleep it off, but every time he closed his eyes, months would pass that he would barely remember, every time he'd wake up with that crazy headache. He didn't always find a new set of stitches but he assumed they were there after a while.
Things in him kept changing- the bones in his limbs were sore and twisted, then later broken and untwisted and god damn did it hurt. It all hurt, all of it, even though he could not remember much of the procedures, he could clearly picture the agony, hear the sounds of him flailing on the cold metal table, shackles and chains jingling as he thrashed. He could grab images of being muzzled after he lunged at a guy for some reason, trying to remember why was always the direct route to headache town, so he tried to ignore it, tried to live with it, thought there was no other way to do life, that flashbacks and snipits was just... it. He could barely remember his mother, so he assumed that she'd forgotten about him as well, his brothers and sisters rarely even crossed his mind when he wasn't being tortured on a butcher's table. He simply accepted that this was his life, a slideshow of horror and pain with short breaks every so often when he would sleep.
He began to notice changes, not just in his bones and body but in his mind. He became... self-aware in a way he hadn't before. He looked down at his paws, flexed his toes- no they were more like fingers now, short and stubby and still tipped with a dull claw but he could bend them in ways he'd never imagined. He used them to feel his way down his body, pausing at his heart which beat steadily against his sternum. He patted his sides, unsure of how to check to make sure he had his kidneys... unsure of how he even knew what his kidneys were, let alone where they were located on his body. He moved his paws down his legs, feeling the strong muscle he'd built in them but also noticing how it shifted and moved as he flexed experimentally. Slowly, he dragged his legs up underneath him and stood, hunched over- the cage was too small to stand fully upright, but he was definitely upright. He swayed a little, having difficulty balancing but he did it.
Was he becoming one of them? One of the men in their white coats? He was shocked at the mere idea. They held so much power over him and the animals in the other cages in the dingy dungeon chamber. Would he be given the same power? The idea made him salivate, oh how it must be fun to torment others, physically and mentally, in the name of science. Was it even legal? Who knows? Who cares? He wanted a piece of it.
So he asked for it. Clearly, the scientists hadn't been expecting it when they came to feed him breakfast that morning but he was waiting, standing, slightly hunched over and with a hint of a British accent, he simply asked what he could do to help. Their response was to drop everything, strap him down to another table and scan his brain six or seven times, to taser and electrocute him until he screamed or begged them to stop. The begging only encouraged them, and it wasn't long before the dog understood that they were not anticipating him to know English, or any language for that matter, to talk- dogs do not talk. So he quieted, adapted, did what the scientists wanted him to do like a good boy. It didn't help at first, they still sent him for every test and every examination of the brain that they had the equipment for, going as far as to implant a black box to not only try and measure the brainwaves, but to electrocute them, to jump start some parts of his brain, to control him, like a hand puppet. His desire to join them blackened over time, after more shocks to the skull, after more cuts in his flesh, after burns and bruises and marks of all kind, he blackened. He stopped screaming during the experiments, stopped thrashing and attempting to break free. No, he was simply... cold, indifferent, numb even.
On the outside. On the inside, he was a carefully programmed time bomb.
It went off when he was about two years old. When they came to give him his breakfast he leapt, taking the scientist down to the ground with his sheer weight. He fought off two more with kicks to the groin. He found that his balance on his hind legs had improved, that it was easier when he let his foot lie flat on the ground instead of standing on his toes. He disabled several more humans before escaping from the lab. As he left, he passed by a man walking a very old very overbred basset hound. He immediately put his hands up and let him pass, but the dog looked at him with wide eyes and watched as he walked, like a man would, straight out the door and into the wild. When he looked back, he realized that it was less of a lab and more of a torture chamber- the exterior was all cold stone bricks surrounded by a big stand of trees, hiding much of the structure from view. Smoke bellowed from chimneys scattered across the flat rooves and men with crossbows and handguns ran about its edges, searching for the runaway. Nefarious didn't need an invitation. He booked it out of there immediately, speaking english and walking on two legs.
He fought his way through life after that, was pretty convinced that that was all life was, just a series of battles you had to fight, and he was more than up for the task. He was mugged a few times, some bandits actually tied him up and kidnapped him before realizing there was no ransom to hold him for. So, after a while they just... let him go. He appreciated that they didn't kill him and remains cooperative with bandits sometimes, joining their raid parties and selling/trading stolen goods when the time was right. He still had dreams, awful ones, full of white hot pain and the jingling of shackles and chains. He'd wake up sweating, another thing that he could do but normal dogs could not. But he never thought of it that way. Somewhere in the mess that his mind had become, he'd completely lost the idea that he was even a dog at all. Sometimes, observers point out that he's a basset hound, and though sometimes he'd get a flash of that wide eyed long eared sausage he saw on his way out of the lab, most of the time he'd respond with 'what the hell is a basset hound?'
He continues to have memory loss issues. The longer that he stayed out of the lab, the fuzzier the flashbacks became until basically, he didn't even remember his mother. He tells others that he came from a tube, that somebody had... made him, as though sculpted out of marble and given life by the gods. He really knows very little of his past- he was made by men in white coats, he knew that he was at least modeled after a dog, but with his head hair and dexterous handpaws, he would be hard-pressed to call himself a dog anymore. Now, he is just.... Nefarious, treasure hunter extraordinaire. He started making a living pretty early into his freedom, his mind ambitious and his personality bold and fearless. He was the kind of guy that you hired to do the job no one else could. He could sneak into a bandit camp, clean them out, and then drag the spoils onto a carriage and back into town before the bandits even noticed it was missing. He is swift, he is clever, and he will use his abilities to gain that power he'd wanted initially, that day in the cage when he stood up. The scientists wouldn't give it to him, so he just has to take it.
Powers/Abilities:
- Human Physiology. Though it may sound weird, thanks to some shifty (and sometimes magical) experimentation, Nefarious has gone from being a normal Basset Hound to something of an amalgamation of human and canine characteristics. He walks on two legs, for example, and can talk (and speaks several languages to boot). He can read and write and, although his front paws are still paws, he can crudely use them to do things to a much greater degree than any dog.
- Close combat "gun fu" Fight Style. Though never formally trained, Nefarious is a stocky and physically powerful dog, the lab made sure of that. He learned how to fight in underground fighting rings and has developed his own unique style that incorporates both his body and his guns. The twin revolvers he wields are heavy and impractical, they probably have less range than a sawed off shot gun, but they are also just as powerful as one. When combined with physical attacks- mostly kicking and grappling- he is one hell of a fighter, especially for an animal with his size and stature.
- Superhuman Senses. Normal senses for a dog, not enhanced at all, but technically super 'human'. He can track a target for miles, days or even weeks after they'd passed. He doesn't always need his canine senses to do this, he is a clever boy who has learned how to track in the wilderness, he can follow a trail for miles if the conditions are right. But even when conditions aren't perfect, his keen canine nose can always find its target. He never gets lost and has a great sense of direction.
- Superhuman Speed and Strength. In order to allow him to not only stand upright but also move freely, Nefarious was subject to many experiments that built up his strength and reflexes. He is stronger than any basset hound has the right to be, tough and stocky, limbs thick with muscles. This is mostly apparent in fights with him, he can grapple and flip a 200 lb man without breaking a sweat, although his stamina is less than impressive, he can only fight for so long before he gets tired. But at the beginning of fights, he is viciously talented and unexpectedly nimble considering his short legs.
- Animal Communication. Because genetically, Nefarious is still a dog, he can still bark and howl like one and can use this to his advantage when meeting other animals. He can talk to and understand the language of the wild, and can communicate freely with any feral animal, even a werewolf who happens to be in wolf form. He regularly holds conversations with Zig and Zag- Zig is younger with a pretty rebellious personality while Zag is more lazy and laid back. He is often forced to talk them into doing things for him.
Trivia:
- He can dance really well. Ever since he discovered his more human-like traits, he noticed that he was developing a taste for human foods and culture, including their music.
- He can speak a total of four languages in human tongue- English, Spanish, Italian and Russian.
- He has a massive sweet tooth and can be easily manipulated if desserts or pastries are involved. He is still a dog after all, so a good way to bribe him is with sweets. And don't worry, the experiments helped balance his immune system so it is safe for him to eat chocolate.
- Has the almost supernatural ability to fall asleep anywhere, especially if something is boring him. But he can sleep standing up, upside down, in the shower, on the toilet, just wherever he happens to be, he can turn it into a sleeping place no problem.
- Yes, he can see in color.
Behind the Scenes
Name/Nickname: Thor
Nicknames:Neffy (hates this nickname)
Gender: Male
Age: 3 years old (21 in dog years)
Race: Domestic Dog- Basset Hound (with some experimental science thrown in)
Rank: Outcast
Job: Treasure hunter and Mercenary (kind of a Land Pirate)
Personality:
Nefarious is a dog with more bark than he has bite. Although he can hold his own in a scrap, and loves to test his fighting skills against anyone willing to throw down a wager, he seems to like his fairly new ability to talk and is the kind of pain in the ass that never shuts up. He loves to hear himself speak, to tell stories of his grand conquests and to mesmerize the crowd with some of the shiny trinkets he has collected over the short time that he's been free of the lab. When those stories run dry, he has a long line of jokes and false history, legends and mythology that he can use instead, always interested in entertaining a crowd and always wanting to be center stage, no matter what is going on. He wants the world to see what he can do, takes every bump in the road as a direct challenge, and charges blindly into any situation that his impressive ego dictates for him. Yeah, that's the long way of saying that he's a self-centered prick.
Super self-absorbed, Nefarious thinks he is hot shit. He wants the girls to know it too. He's not really attracted to human women, he is a dog after all, but conquering a woman was just as impressive as conquering a battle field, so like all challenges that come his way, he rises to meet it. When he wants to be, he can actually be quite charming, a bit of a Casanova. But it never lasts, he has his favorite whores that he visits from time to time but he never stays the night and is always gone by morning. He has no commitment skills whatsoever, just a lot of moxy and an interest in seeing how far that will get him. So far, he's done pretty well for himself- he has a wagon pulled by two horses- Zig and Zag- and that wagon is also where he sleeps and where his stores and sells his treasures and trinkets, he's so afraid of commitment he won't even buy a house to settle down in, he is just too interested in the adventure. He loves to travel, to see new worlds, cross new bridges, meet new friends.
Though you have to deal with his ridiculous ego and his tendency to pad his stories, Nefarious is actually not a bad friend to have. He'll tease and poke fun, you'll be the butt of a few jokes you can count on that. But, though he loves to fight and solves most of his problems with his fists- or his two super huge super heavy revolvers- he is actually a somewhat honest, somewhat loyal individual. If he makes a promise, he will stick to it. He doesn't consider contracts to be a promise, if someone comes along with deeper pockets then his changing sides is just business and he feels no guilt about that. But if someone shakes his hand, really gets him to swear on something, he will keep that promise to within an inch of his life.
History:
Most people are born with a name, usually the parents have one all ready and picked out many many weeks or even months in advanced, heck some women are not even pregnant when they decide their baby's names. But Nefarious, he earned his name, deserved it, might as well have picked it out himself. For the beginning of his life, he didn't know what names were. He was just a puppy, a bright-eyed intelligent little pup, at barely 8 weeks old, he had already picked up the 'sit' and 'stay' commands. He was very smart for a dog of his age, something he would later find out came from very careful and selective breeding. He wasn't born intelligent- he was designed to be intelligent, and eventually was designed to do even more.
At first, the experiments were brief and pretty basic to understand. He would swim around in a tank full of water until he was too tired to keep his head above water and then fished out. The scientists never mentioned what exactly the point was but he assumed they were timing him, testing his endurance and building muscle mass. Every time they initiated the test, he could swim faster, and do it for longer and longer periods as he grew. But this was not enough for them, those men in the white coats. Progressively, the tests got more and more invasive. He was running on treadmills, playing tug of war with a carriage horse, tasked to move heavy objects, his vision and memory tested with games and treats. He must've been really good at these things because eventually, they stopped bringing him back to his mother. Slowly, his entire family was phased out and all that he knew of the world was those tests and those scientists, the men in the white coats.
Nefarious was only six months old when the real tests began. He woke up in his cage one morning to an absolutely mind-numbing headache and instinctively he raised a paw to his head. This made him realize that his legs hurt too and when his toes brushed the X-mark of stitches he recognized why. They were longer, or he was more flexible, he really couldn't tell which, but he'd never been able to reach the top of his head before. Closer examination revealed bald spots with stitches all the way up and down his arms- no forelegs, they were forelegs.... right? His mind swam and there was a hum in his ears. He tried to sleep it off, but every time he closed his eyes, months would pass that he would barely remember, every time he'd wake up with that crazy headache. He didn't always find a new set of stitches but he assumed they were there after a while.
Things in him kept changing- the bones in his limbs were sore and twisted, then later broken and untwisted and god damn did it hurt. It all hurt, all of it, even though he could not remember much of the procedures, he could clearly picture the agony, hear the sounds of him flailing on the cold metal table, shackles and chains jingling as he thrashed. He could grab images of being muzzled after he lunged at a guy for some reason, trying to remember why was always the direct route to headache town, so he tried to ignore it, tried to live with it, thought there was no other way to do life, that flashbacks and snipits was just... it. He could barely remember his mother, so he assumed that she'd forgotten about him as well, his brothers and sisters rarely even crossed his mind when he wasn't being tortured on a butcher's table. He simply accepted that this was his life, a slideshow of horror and pain with short breaks every so often when he would sleep.
He began to notice changes, not just in his bones and body but in his mind. He became... self-aware in a way he hadn't before. He looked down at his paws, flexed his toes- no they were more like fingers now, short and stubby and still tipped with a dull claw but he could bend them in ways he'd never imagined. He used them to feel his way down his body, pausing at his heart which beat steadily against his sternum. He patted his sides, unsure of how to check to make sure he had his kidneys... unsure of how he even knew what his kidneys were, let alone where they were located on his body. He moved his paws down his legs, feeling the strong muscle he'd built in them but also noticing how it shifted and moved as he flexed experimentally. Slowly, he dragged his legs up underneath him and stood, hunched over- the cage was too small to stand fully upright, but he was definitely upright. He swayed a little, having difficulty balancing but he did it.
Was he becoming one of them? One of the men in their white coats? He was shocked at the mere idea. They held so much power over him and the animals in the other cages in the dingy dungeon chamber. Would he be given the same power? The idea made him salivate, oh how it must be fun to torment others, physically and mentally, in the name of science. Was it even legal? Who knows? Who cares? He wanted a piece of it.
So he asked for it. Clearly, the scientists hadn't been expecting it when they came to feed him breakfast that morning but he was waiting, standing, slightly hunched over and with a hint of a British accent, he simply asked what he could do to help. Their response was to drop everything, strap him down to another table and scan his brain six or seven times, to taser and electrocute him until he screamed or begged them to stop. The begging only encouraged them, and it wasn't long before the dog understood that they were not anticipating him to know English, or any language for that matter, to talk- dogs do not talk. So he quieted, adapted, did what the scientists wanted him to do like a good boy. It didn't help at first, they still sent him for every test and every examination of the brain that they had the equipment for, going as far as to implant a black box to not only try and measure the brainwaves, but to electrocute them, to jump start some parts of his brain, to control him, like a hand puppet. His desire to join them blackened over time, after more shocks to the skull, after more cuts in his flesh, after burns and bruises and marks of all kind, he blackened. He stopped screaming during the experiments, stopped thrashing and attempting to break free. No, he was simply... cold, indifferent, numb even.
On the outside. On the inside, he was a carefully programmed time bomb.
It went off when he was about two years old. When they came to give him his breakfast he leapt, taking the scientist down to the ground with his sheer weight. He fought off two more with kicks to the groin. He found that his balance on his hind legs had improved, that it was easier when he let his foot lie flat on the ground instead of standing on his toes. He disabled several more humans before escaping from the lab. As he left, he passed by a man walking a very old very overbred basset hound. He immediately put his hands up and let him pass, but the dog looked at him with wide eyes and watched as he walked, like a man would, straight out the door and into the wild. When he looked back, he realized that it was less of a lab and more of a torture chamber- the exterior was all cold stone bricks surrounded by a big stand of trees, hiding much of the structure from view. Smoke bellowed from chimneys scattered across the flat rooves and men with crossbows and handguns ran about its edges, searching for the runaway. Nefarious didn't need an invitation. He booked it out of there immediately, speaking english and walking on two legs.
He fought his way through life after that, was pretty convinced that that was all life was, just a series of battles you had to fight, and he was more than up for the task. He was mugged a few times, some bandits actually tied him up and kidnapped him before realizing there was no ransom to hold him for. So, after a while they just... let him go. He appreciated that they didn't kill him and remains cooperative with bandits sometimes, joining their raid parties and selling/trading stolen goods when the time was right. He still had dreams, awful ones, full of white hot pain and the jingling of shackles and chains. He'd wake up sweating, another thing that he could do but normal dogs could not. But he never thought of it that way. Somewhere in the mess that his mind had become, he'd completely lost the idea that he was even a dog at all. Sometimes, observers point out that he's a basset hound, and though sometimes he'd get a flash of that wide eyed long eared sausage he saw on his way out of the lab, most of the time he'd respond with 'what the hell is a basset hound?'
He continues to have memory loss issues. The longer that he stayed out of the lab, the fuzzier the flashbacks became until basically, he didn't even remember his mother. He tells others that he came from a tube, that somebody had... made him, as though sculpted out of marble and given life by the gods. He really knows very little of his past- he was made by men in white coats, he knew that he was at least modeled after a dog, but with his head hair and dexterous handpaws, he would be hard-pressed to call himself a dog anymore. Now, he is just.... Nefarious, treasure hunter extraordinaire. He started making a living pretty early into his freedom, his mind ambitious and his personality bold and fearless. He was the kind of guy that you hired to do the job no one else could. He could sneak into a bandit camp, clean them out, and then drag the spoils onto a carriage and back into town before the bandits even noticed it was missing. He is swift, he is clever, and he will use his abilities to gain that power he'd wanted initially, that day in the cage when he stood up. The scientists wouldn't give it to him, so he just has to take it.
Powers/Abilities:
- Human Physiology. Though it may sound weird, thanks to some shifty (and sometimes magical) experimentation, Nefarious has gone from being a normal Basset Hound to something of an amalgamation of human and canine characteristics. He walks on two legs, for example, and can talk (and speaks several languages to boot). He can read and write and, although his front paws are still paws, he can crudely use them to do things to a much greater degree than any dog.
- Close combat "gun fu" Fight Style. Though never formally trained, Nefarious is a stocky and physically powerful dog, the lab made sure of that. He learned how to fight in underground fighting rings and has developed his own unique style that incorporates both his body and his guns. The twin revolvers he wields are heavy and impractical, they probably have less range than a sawed off shot gun, but they are also just as powerful as one. When combined with physical attacks- mostly kicking and grappling- he is one hell of a fighter, especially for an animal with his size and stature.
- Superhuman Senses. Normal senses for a dog, not enhanced at all, but technically super 'human'. He can track a target for miles, days or even weeks after they'd passed. He doesn't always need his canine senses to do this, he is a clever boy who has learned how to track in the wilderness, he can follow a trail for miles if the conditions are right. But even when conditions aren't perfect, his keen canine nose can always find its target. He never gets lost and has a great sense of direction.
- Superhuman Speed and Strength. In order to allow him to not only stand upright but also move freely, Nefarious was subject to many experiments that built up his strength and reflexes. He is stronger than any basset hound has the right to be, tough and stocky, limbs thick with muscles. This is mostly apparent in fights with him, he can grapple and flip a 200 lb man without breaking a sweat, although his stamina is less than impressive, he can only fight for so long before he gets tired. But at the beginning of fights, he is viciously talented and unexpectedly nimble considering his short legs.
- Animal Communication. Because genetically, Nefarious is still a dog, he can still bark and howl like one and can use this to his advantage when meeting other animals. He can talk to and understand the language of the wild, and can communicate freely with any feral animal, even a werewolf who happens to be in wolf form. He regularly holds conversations with Zig and Zag- Zig is younger with a pretty rebellious personality while Zag is more lazy and laid back. He is often forced to talk them into doing things for him.
Trivia:
- He can dance really well. Ever since he discovered his more human-like traits, he noticed that he was developing a taste for human foods and culture, including their music.
- He can speak a total of four languages in human tongue- English, Spanish, Italian and Russian.
- He has a massive sweet tooth and can be easily manipulated if desserts or pastries are involved. He is still a dog after all, so a good way to bribe him is with sweets. And don't worry, the experiments helped balance his immune system so it is safe for him to eat chocolate.
- Has the almost supernatural ability to fall asleep anywhere, especially if something is boring him. But he can sleep standing up, upside down, in the shower, on the toilet, just wherever he happens to be, he can turn it into a sleeping place no problem.
- Yes, he can see in color.
Behind the Scenes
Name/Nickname: Thor
