Pincher didn't know why the fuck he even wanted to mess with the Ascendants. He didn't really desire anything from them but some of his crewmates had been desiring some looting and trouble, stating that it would be neat to fuck shit up. And frankly, he had to agree with them. There was something incredibly satisfying in going around and having fun especially without the risk of being killed. Well, for him anyways. Being a demigod had it's perks even though he had never desired being one and had been rather forced to become what he was now due to the greed of mysterious beings that claimed themselves to be "gods", whatever the fuck that meant. So, the usual paranoia that laced his actions had lessened but only for himself. His worry for his crew always stuck around him and plagued his thoughts on the possibilities of things going wrong but even if they did, would they be able to prevail? His tendency to look at the darkness of ideas and not the silver linings tended to hold him back but the male knew it was better to take the risks than not risk anything at all. Especially in a dog eat dog world like the one that they lived in.

Pincher had told everyone to prepare for the raid, ensured their scents were buried beneath the coats of coal that they had covered themselves with. Their ink black figures had hopped into some small boats and sailed the waters without much trouble since they were pirates after all and Pincher was able to guide them through the midnight darkness, his electric blue gaze honed onto the shores of the territory that the Ascendants claimed for themselves. Too bad that Pincher didn't really care about borders that weren't his. Once the boats had pushed through the dark waves and pressed against the land, the male hopped off his boat and glanced towards the others with a light grin lacing his muzzle. "Alrighty, let's get down to business, eh? I heard they've got some neat shit in some called the Starpool. Get as much as you can and then dash back to the boats. If we do get caught, try not to get killed. I don't want to drag any dead bodies back home, is that understood?" He whispered softly in the darkness, his long coal covered tail twitching excitedly behind him before he turned to stalk through the territory and towards the Starpool. Pincher wondered how this would all turn out. Would the Ascendants throw a fit? Hell yeah, they would but the immortal bastard didn't mind. Pissing off people were the highlights of many pirates' lives including Pincher's.

© LEXASPERATED

✯ — Lessa was... A pacifist.  Unfortunate in these cases.

The Halo had been sitting on the island in the star pool's center, beside the ancient oak.  Given how her mind seemed rather far away, the petite marten might not have noticed anyone at the moment, if it weren't for the sudden soft cry of a sharp-shinned hawk.  Calum.  Her head turned on a swivel, her one uncovered eye narrowing.  If he was antsy about an approach; they weren't a clanmate.  Ears flattened, Lessa slithered up the oak's trunk, easily blending in and scaling it with an expert's ease.

She didn't stop until she was up high enough to make reaching her - and hopefully spotting her - difficult, as well as giving her a bird's eye view of the situation.  They were covered in black, but Lessa saw the movement.  She breathed in quietly through her nose.  Perhaps this was a good reason to stay inside at night, but the Halo was restless and sleep was not an option.

Silently, she flicked her tail, and watched as her hawk companion zipped away, spread wings barely making a sound... Until he reached the outside of the Observatory; where he created a huge ruckus, screeching at full volume. 

Meanwhile Lessa remained perched high in her tree, pressed close to the bark; tugging gently on her bond with Shininglight with one simple message; danger. If that was not enough to warn the Ascendants, nothing was.

code by spacexual

If people assumed the majority of the Ascendants are pacifists, they'd quickly learn how wrong they are. Roy Mustang is the last person to call a 'pacifist'- he really stands out in the crowd of his groupmates. Roy comes from a military background- he's used to war, handling cases, missions, commanding a unit, and more. Roy quickly learned from his time in the military that the world isn't perfect. It's practically impossible to avoid dangerous, dark situations, as the world isn't rainbows and sunshine- whether or not you want to run across difficulties, you will. Roy has gone through some hell, and certain experiences he went through would be impossible to handle for an ordinary, everyday person. How Roy even wakes up in the morning after Ishbal is due to the fact that he's grown a thick skin. He was expected to handle things with maturity in the military, and while he's not apart of the military anymore, he still holds that mentality to this day. It's apart of him now, asking him not to fight is like telling him not to be himself.

Thankfully Roy wasn't asleep when Lessa's hawk companion screeched out, he quickly picked up on it. Roy had been in his room, with the plans of eventually falling asleep. But the hawk caught his attention, usually they wouldn't shriek out so loudly, especially at this time. Something felt horribly wrong in Roy's chest. Without another thought, the male quickly jumped off of his bed, and began to head out of the observatory- when the scent of the Typhoon invaded his nostrils.

As soon as that scent hit him, and when he heard the cries of his clanmates, he knew this can't be good. Plus, the Typhoon scent was far past the border, and it's past midnight. They're not here on peaceful terms, they thought out a plan to attack when the Ascendants wouldn't be ready. Without another thought, Roy broke out in a sprint, following the scent carefully to the best of his ability. Roy had all intentions to attack with brute force- he will kill if he has to.

When Roy finally arrived to the scene, he skidded to a stop at the starpool. There were Typhoon members everywhere- some were in the water pulling meteorites out of it, with the full intentions to steal. Some of them weren't in the starpool just yet, his eyes scanning the area quickly. Roy's eyes landed on [member=66]PINCHER[/member] , who gave Roy Mustang a feeling they're the ones running this raid. Blue eyes narrowing, the Flame Alchemist's gaze locked on the Typhoon leader. Without saying a word, the male quickly whipped out his front right paw. Without another moment passing by, Roy snapped his mutated claws, attempting to use his flame alchemy to send a controlled blast of flames at Pincher. The flames illuminated the night sky, and for one moment it looked beautiful. But when it's remembered that the flames are meant for pain and destruction, that beauty quickly turns to living hell.

Roy is a master at flame alchemy- he can keep control of his flames and pin point aim, when fully comprehending the chemical make-up of what he's transmuting and the flame array on his paw pads. He felt great confidence that he'll either hit his target, or at least distract them from their plans to steal from the starpool.