Slair - Description

He doesn't care. That's the only thing you'd likely get from the first glance at the shabbily-dressed hyena. Cargo pants, skater shoes, band tees, and a backpack liberally stitched together with patches depicting slogans from the late 60s to today as well as logos for heavy metal groups are primarily what the hyena can be found lounging (read: slouching about) in. With curly-as-hell hair that would make Slash envious, and a long, long goatee of legendary length and scrufulousness, Slair (a bastardized form of Slayer, dontchaknow) is the perfect example of 'fuck off, you' given flesh on par with the late George Carlin. Naked (which could be often or not at all), he looks lean and wiry, a build that speaks of years of running through the streets, leaping from balconies to ground floors a la Parkour. His fur is a cream-colored base with just a hint of tan to make it seem a bit grayish-gold, with various colonies and continents of black spots what make him look as if he had wandered through a body shop when they were painting hearses, and his back, ass, shoulders, and neck got the heaviest splash of darker fur. Deep, soulful brown eyes peer out from under the darker mahogany-hued mane of curls that tops his head. Trust the lie in them at your own risk. Occasionally seen with an MP3 player or perhaps a laptop upon which to trull for porn or perhaps make an ass of himself in various forums, or maybe just to play a rousing game of...whatever he wants, goddamnit. Bitches gotta shout, bros gotta recognize, the slacker's back.