MONTHLY MEETING [ FEBRUARY 2023 ]

Finally.

After scrounging to find the mainland for so long, the Descendants of the Departed had. With their lack of resources, it was harder to produce fruitful crops for storage and trees to create ships. Eventually, though, something struck. Under Valerius' leadership, the group started to thrive. Momentous achievements of travel, showmanship, and productiveness were beginning for them. Even so, they lacked trade and companionship. There was nowhere to go besides out to the sea in search of others. Thankfully, in time, the mainland came to. Perhaps they could search here for more.

As they explored the neutral lands, the news of a meeting came about. The grapevine whispered rumors of tension. Thus, an opportunity struck. While the others were distracted at the monthly meeting, the Descendants of the Departed would strike in their moment of weakness. Cannibalistic and begging of resources, the dead spread out across the newfound battlefield provided them with an advantage. All they needed was for the fight to begin.

From the shadows, those that gathered remained silent. Valerius stood at the front of the tribe with his light grey optics narrowed. Large claws remained unsheathed. While the gathering groups bickered, he watched and waited. His body remained stiff and unmoving with his chest to the floor and body hidden by the underbrush. The only that moved was his tail. It lashed impatiently as he waited for the fight to begin. The tension was beginning to ramp up. Thankfully for them, the Descendants of the Departed were unseen, unexpected, and unhinged.

Soon enough, claws were exposed and teeth were bared. As Sorbet lashed out as Aesior, the lion rushed out of the darkness and into the sunlight. There was no signal to be given. The consensus was to scavenge, raid, and then leave. Valerius had been clear about that in his previous meeting with them. If claws were to be unveiled, then they were destined strike. He would be only following his own advice as he darted into the crowd with eyes wide and mismatching canines glinting in the light.

The prospect of a fair fight was disregarded by Valerius. The easiest target on the field caught his eye easily. Rushing forward, the lion attempted to barrel into Sorbet. If successful, he'd grab them by the nape with his canines and then violently shake them, hoping they'd grow dizzy and potentially go unconscious.

With Josiah slapped away, Romulus scrambled to his feet. The haunting yell of another scratched at his ears. Through their pants and words, the kingpin could only stare back. The daunting, red gaze Josiah had locked with his and with wracked his brain. The fur on his nape, hidden by his wild mane, began to stand up. Realization struck. He had not wronged this man, nor had he done anything wrong. Something else was afoot. Before him stood a madman. Someone who would not stop till they got what they wanted. Romulus had never faced such a foe, only dreamed of one.

At the other's words, Romulus snarled. Josiah was right. He would not kill the other animal standing before him, but Josiah would do the opposite. He would aim for the kill. Faced with a moral dilemma, the lion's body grew stiff in it's place. Paws planted firmly on the ground, claws scratching at the dirt beneath his feet. The Earth below started to rumble and shake. Sharp horn ends were aflame in hot fire in no time.

With an attempt to stop Josiah in his charge, dirt and light stone was quickly summoned up from the ground to form a wall between the two. Romulus stood rigidly behind it's contents, but, in surprise, he was blown back. Josiah's body had plowed straight through the wall. Debris exploded off to the sides, blowing into Romulus' face and around the area. All the force combined with his stiff position threw him onto the ground and onto his side with a massive thump.

This time, Josiah was successful. Teeth planted down firmly onto his neck and clamped onto his jugular vein. A yowl of pain roared out from Romulus in response. It was all so quick. Sputtering and squirting, crimson liquids pooled onto the ground before them. Paws wildly scoured for anything to latch onto as blood started to gush down from his neck and onto his chest. They could find nothing to hold onto. Nothing to push away. Nothing to do.

The lion's head attempted to lurch forward to headbutt the other, but at the rate of the blood coming out, dizziness only led him forward and caused him to slouch onto the other's head. The fire on his horns swayed and swished for a path to take, but found no entry way. Neither did the earth that rumbled beneath his body, aching to quell around the canine that held him close. There was nothing more to do. Even so, he tried.

Blinded in the moment with his vision beginning to fade, thoughts rapidly rushed through the lion's head. What could he do? What options were there? Unable to escape, unable to find any help as they had left, there was nothing more to do. Nothing he could contemplate, at least. He leaned into the canine's grip. Head hanging low and his heart thumping, the lion knew there was nothing more to do.

Impulse took control. The unconscious desire to keep fighting when the chips were down kept him afloat. Consider this a last ditch effort and the unspeakable. With each exhale, the fire atop his horns started to swirl. With each inhale, the earth started to rumble. Romulus pulled his nauseated head up last one time and, with his periwinkle gaze, looked down at Josiah's bloodthirsty grip on his neck. Flames soared forth in a fury. They attempted to encapsulate the other's head in their burning contents, followed by a stone barrier to keep Josiah within. If successful, red hot flames would lick away at Josiah's flesh and tear into it, burning whatever they could. From outside to inside, the flames would take their place and a void of nothingness would form, except for the remains of ash and fleshy goop.

Shards of stone broke apart and scatted onto the floor followed by flames dissipating into the air. Josiah's floated off into the distance, but the rest of burned remains sloshed down onto Romulus' mane, singeing the ends. Some even ran down into his newfound wound, cauterizing some areas from the heat. A headless corpse fell to the ground in succession.

Face to face with the pool of blood and it's former owner, realization set in. Romulus had killed. Frantic paws combed through his mane and ended up gripping at his throat. Not to stop the bleeding, but out of shock. He gasped for air. Through ragged and quick breaths, the kingpin's eyes grew wide as he stared at the cauterized and bleeding neckline before him, only to realize his own moments later.

A shaky paw pulled away from his neck. He moved it in front of blurred vision and reeled at the clear sight of crimson within in his vision. Blood flowed between his pawpads and dark fur before his eyes, dripping down onto the debris-covered floor before him. A disgusted, tired groan exited the lion. His eyes rolled back into his head, the world growing dark as they did so.

Moments later, the scene came back. Then darkness again. Then back to reality. Then the abyss again. Despite going between worlds, Romulus struggled to stay with the living. As his head jolted back and forth between consciousness and unconsciousness, a lousy growl exited the noble kingpin. "Not today," he pleaded to whatever laid above. 'Not now.'

Before slipping back into the dark, two familiar faces arrived. What appeared to be the spirits of his parents loomed above him with their paws extended. Romulus stared back at them with lousy eyes, tears starting to form. He wanted to reach out. Oh, how he dreamed of it for the past two years. A paw lazily lurched forward. 'Come to me, son,' the spirits beckoned, but he could not reach. Something was holding him back.

The Coalition of the Condemned held him close. Yet far off from the meeting ground, they were with them in his heart. The siblings that remained, yet distant, kept him afloat. The lover he leaned into, Merlin, held his paw and led him forward. The memory of his parents drove him to be different. The wanderers, his crew, kept him on his toes. Every day he looked back on his past, but kept his head high for the present and stature outstretched for the future. Romulus could not give up now. There was still so much to do and so much to live for.

And, yet, the darkness came once again. He felt cold. Oh so cold... His parents approached slowly and wrapped their bodies around his, the warmth seeping into his skin. Ninazu's flames brushed against his soul while Stryker's earthly vines wrapped around his body. They whispered words of hope and praise for their son. Although they missed him, their souls ached for him to live on and to make them proud. Romulus could only cry back as they leaned into him. For the first time in a long time, he felt small. He felt... safe.

With wavering voices of worry, his parents flames died out and vines moved away from his body until nothing was left. Romulus could feel their warmth begin to pull away and watched as they got up from their spot. Before wandering off, they looked back at him. Their eyes were full of sorrow, tears lining their cheeks. They were not of sadness, but of contentment. Through his wheezing, the lion called out for them one last time, but their spirits had disappeared into the darkness.

Then Romulus did too.

[Permission to powerplay Josiah from Dio. Only Romulus can see the spirits, as they are a hallucination.]

★

Diego wasn’t much for theatrics.
That said, his long-term disappearance was perhaps theatrical enough, no? In truth, he didn’t know why he had come to the meeting; he naught associated with any group these days, loitering and wandering wherever his great, heavy paws would take him.

He lurked in the shadows of the meeting, for the most part. His lips pursed as conflict broke out; this had been what had made him flee his home in the coalition so many moons ago, hadn’t it? All the fighting… His parents’ deaths, even. It was still a rotting, festering wound in his chest to think about, though the red lion simply shook undergrown mane and watched on; he refused to think about it.

At first, he hadn’t been paying attention to everything that had happened and who it had happened with. He didn’t care; creatures fought all the time, it was petty, it was… beneath them. He rolled his eyes, a quiet, haughty snort escaping his nostrils.

But, of course, one can never be completely oblivious. And Diego would always recognise his brothers voice, even after years had passed. Romulus and he had been… Somewhat close, after all. His big green eyes snapped to look back to the scene; a certain lady had momentarily caught his eye, one from his past, though not that he’d admit it.

Should he feel guilty for not stepping in when he could see his brother struggling, see the power dwindling away from his every move? He had always been somewhat of a coward in comparison to his gold-adorned sibling… In comparison to them all, really. Fighting had never been for him and, given his parentage, what a surprise that had turned out to be.

Still, to see life drain from his older brother brought an ache to his bones like no other. A pain he had felt only as he saw the life leave his mother’s eyes so long ago, and the shaky breath that ripped from his drooping maw shook him from his frozen state.

While he had been frozen in shock, something had happened; what, he didn’t know, but as he saw Romulus begin to mutter words, he mustered the resolve to move at last.

He had never been the strongest of the bunch, and admittedly somewhat of a festering wound left of a thorn in their side, angsty and emo edgelord-y as he had been, but even still he couldn’t let his brother die.

He hoped the others would be concerned with the dead body of the… other, enough for him to sneak in. He’d always been quite good at that; sneaking, that is. He crept around the back of the crowd, waited for some kind of reaction, before tip-toeing over to his brother’s body and carefully pulling him away.

Of course others had seen him. Hopefully, someone would recognise him; someone who would at the very least let him slip away with his brother’s, well, body… more or less. He was still alive. That was a good sign.

Nevertheless, should anyone try to stop him, they would be met with claws and teeth. Rest assured. Diego had lost enough; he would not lose Romulus too.

He gripped Romulus’s scruff as carefully as he could and, rather swiftly and less gently than he had hoped, dragged him out of the limelight of the meeting.
He had no herbs on him, not right now; who is expecting a fight when they go to a neutral meeting, anyway?
But he could find some on his way, he was sure.

Hopefully.

[perms given from orion <3]

roleplayed by sykes

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You picked me like a flower, didn't expect the thorns! -- Ice Cream cat. Quatermaster of the Typhoon.

Sorbet hadn’t been expecting the other lion to appear. He hadn’t been expecting a whole ass lion to take right into his smaller body. So when Val slammed into him it sent him barreling to the side, his much smaller body slamming into the ground and forcing the breath out of him. Star speckled across his vision that he quickly tried to blink away but was only successful for a little bit.

His body was quickly lifted, teeth digging into his scruff and dragging out a howl of pain from the feline. He would wiggle in the hold and attempt to break free but soon he was being violently shook like a chew toy. He would attempt to turn around the best he could and lash out at whoever had grabbed him. His claws and teeth both striking out to grab onto anything that he could reach in hopes of being let out. If he was successful he would drop to the ground and try to put distance between him and Val.

[align=center]"speech" .. 'thoughts' .. attack

attack in #C3B1E1. -- You say that I'm too frigid, didn't know what you were in for!

[member=11].[/member]teef + help from [member=11].[/member]psy

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merlin e. gwynne
long-time member of tanglewood
"the unicorn knight"
penned by teef

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YOU GET ONE SHOT - 乂

actions || "speech" || thoughts

War always had a cost. She knew that, better than some but that didn't matter to her. All that mattered was protecting her friends and family, her group, her home. She was not prepared for the cost this time.

She had silently joined the others before violence had exploded over the clearing a bloody fog, her eyes fixed to the familiar handsome form of Romulus, the Kingpin of the Coalition and the man to catch her heart and eye. What a tumultuous relationship they'd had for some years now. A flash of warmth ran through the woman as she observed him in all of his glory, Taki the chance in the quiet before the storm to admire him, gaze lingering a bit too long perhaps. Could you blame her? Paw raising to brush her still tender ears and the delicate, tenderly crafted wing earrings dangling there as she smiled to herself, feeling much a young girl in first love.

Her attention was pulled back to the meeting in progress as Aesior, their Luminary spoke, his words reaching her and causing her ears to flick forward and back as she listened. The man had gone through some changes from when he'd originally raised to power and she could only assume such a thing happened under the stress of leadership. She remembered Els and Arrow at that moment, other Luminaries who had come and gone, friends she had once known. Faces she had known. Suddenly, it felt like the face of the lion leading their group ... wasn't quite his. She couldn't place it and it was far too late to ponder it as the Quartermaster of the Typhoon, Sorbet, surged at his face.

Getting to her paws as bodies exploded into combat around her, catching sight of Coalitioners leaving the meeting to avoid the combat that was quickly swallowing the gathering of bodies as her fur rose along her spine. Some words escaped a ragged looking canid at the front, up by the leaders before everything went to hell in a hand basket, and she was left to break up brawls all around or get into a scrap of her own. Turning away in an attempt to break up a fight, the Celt felt her medallion swinging widely about her neck, the unicorn's silver sheen glistening in whatever light made it through the tangle of bodies.

Oh how she wished she had her sword sometimes, wishing she'd kept it on for this meeting but it had been neutral until it all went sideways. Never again. Inhaling as she turned to dive into the fray, focusing on prying apart a few brawling pairs of individuals. It wasn't until an area around the lioness had opened up and there was enough time for the Unicorn Knight to catch her breath, that she noticed the fight going on up by the leaders. She caught sight of familiar dark and tan fur, her heart rising into her throat as she stared in abject horror. Romulus had sent the Coalition away, why hadn't he gone with them?

It felt like her paws were stuck in place, stuck in a quagmire of visceral gore and writhing bodies, chills washing over the swordswoman as she was rooter in place, helpless to watch the battle between her beloved Romulus and that pale canid from earlier. Her jaws ached as she swallowed dryly, watching the vicious fight start and end messily. When Josiah brought Romulus to a halt, the rancid stench of hot blood reaching her from so far away.

Darkness pressed in on her vision, silence filled the battlefield around her (or so it felt, as a ringing silence filled her ears), only the rough beating of her heart and the ragging agonized breaths scorching her lungs and throat. Anyone standing close to the frozen lioness would bear witness to the scent of burning wood and dust as she stood still, spots in her dark fur beginning to burn like coals before flame sputtered into life from little to nothing and roared along her spinal from the middle of her head down to the tip of her tail, a fiery dorsal strip of fire that burned so bright others might have wondered if she'd even be able to see it's glow if she looked. Her attention was laser focused on the deadly battle so far away from her reach, panting as the flames danced down all four of her limbs, flickering like gossamer strands in the breeze.

The battle between Kingpin and Sentinel raged on before it too came to an end and she was finally, finally free, shoved into by a fight somewhere behind her and she was sprinting as an ungodly scream ripped from the woman, hurling herself in the direction of the leaders, "NOOOO!! ROMULUS!!!", the highest pitch of her scream breaking in a horrible way as the Kingpin fell, the Sentinel soon meeting his own messy end at the paws of her beloved. It didn't matter the gore, the bodies she encountered as she raced to the fallen lion, as if each step could bring her closer, as if every ounce of blood pumping through her veins and body could be his. If only she was faster, if only her paws were faster, if only she hadn't frozen up, if only, if only. It was a repetitive drum in her head, voices screaming their judgement in her mind as her heart beat double time, lungs overworked as panic set in. She was so close, so close, so fucking close, she could almost feel Romulus' fur at the tips of her claws and then-

It was over. He was gone.

Wicked and feral, gut-wrenching came the shriek of sheer overwhelming agony. A sound so rich with emotion, with desperation, with everything that filled her, the shriek of a witch, of a woman who had lost the only thing keeping her tethered. Claws tangled themselves in the dirt, in the gore, in whatever was left of the bastard that had done this, of Josiah or whatever his name was. The man she had loved so secretly, was gone. The jugular had been hit and she knew from many hunts that once the jugular was injured, there was no coming back. It was usually a swift death, if not filled with fear and panic.

"Marbh. Tha e marbh. MARBHACH! A Dhia, guidheam ort ... treòraich anam fhad 's nach urrainn dhomh. Dìon mo leannan."

Sobs wrenched from the dark lioness as she sank to the ground beside Romulus, a broken croon leaving her as her limbs gave out, the flames scoring along her pelt burning brighter and brighter as if it could be a beacon to guide him back. Attempting to stroke the fallen lion's mane, unaware of his state of consciousness, only wishing for him to know that she was beside him as he left their world. For all that the poor woman knew, he was already lost to them. "I'm sorry.", she whispered to him, to some entity, to herself - she didn't know. All she could feel was the aching pain in her chest, barely able to lift her head to see the red form of Diego, squinting at the lion from so far away. As the other lion approached she felt her lips curl back in a snarl before she calmed herself down. Let him come near, if he was a Coalitioner like her head told he was (if he wasn't, she would be more than happy to take out her pain on him), then he would want to remove Romulus' body from the field.

Her head whipped in another direction as she swore she heard a sound, something that broke through the violence around, between the roars and shrieks, something that felt dangerous to hear. Wasn't all of battle something that felt dangerous? What did she care, let danger come, and whatever other wickedness that rode its coattails. "Come at me you sick, sick world.", she croaked as she pushed herself to unsteady legs. She would spill some blood, some creature's blood, if it only meant everything hurt a little less.

|| Rough translation to:
"Dead. He's dead. DEAD! Gods, please ... guide his soul while I cannot. Protect my lover." ||

乂 - TO MAKE IT OUT ALIVE

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