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closed doors || MURDER - Jervis - 08-28-2019
[glow=#2b0505,2,300]ENTITLED BASTARD[/glow]
Gone.
The thought of his prisoners being taken back to their rightful home caused his stomach to knot and his throat to close. How dare they? Tanglewood had no right. Samantha and Beck were his. The two had been beaten to submission, one even gutted, but they still wanted those pathetic wimps back. To think that Crow wanted those impeccable cowards back on his land was disgraceful, but so be it. If Tanglewood wanted to continue their war, then go ahead. The situation was already chaotic. First this constant bloodshed was blatant generalization of their enemies, now things were getting personal.
Something Jervis had noticed was Crow's kinship. Compared to the ardent, Tanglewood's general held true to his heart and stood up for his family, along with his friends. It was truly noble. There were a few notable members he had cared for. One in particular caught his eye though. Their sawbones, also Crow's son, Selby was key to the group. Not only did they provide medical care, they also were by the leader's side. Those combined with his relationship with Crow knocked out three birds with one stone. Thus began their demise.
Through the grapevine came some astounding news. An opportunity fell before the vulpine's paws in no time. Talk came from afar about a girl by the name of Pastel, daughter of Crow and sister of Selby himself. She was considerably smaller, perceived as a kitten to many, and an easy target. Soon enough, the plan was in motion.
Midnight struck. A red glint in the moonlight slid throughout the night. They breezed through the marsh's rough territory and quickly into Tanglewood's home without being detected. Within no time the scavenger's target was acquired. It didn't help that Pastel wore a blatantly obvious witch hat that identified her immediately. Jervis, nevertheless, was pleased. His job was just too easy.
His victim didn't go easily. Her pointed claws raked through his skin as she fought to get away from Jervis, but eventually she succumbed. In no time, Pastel was dragged away by her scruff. She was dragged throughout the territory, ivy and scratches littering her body along the way, and to the junk yard. From there she was promptly killed. A simple slit to the small girl's throat did the job. For the most part, the only damage was the crimson stain left on her iridescent fur. After all, the vulpine needed her body to be recognizable to the rest of the group.
Even so, the ardent wanted to do something special. This couldn't be some random murder, no. They had to know it was him. What better than removing the female's right eye? After all, Samantha and Beck had received the same treatment. It only seemed customary. Just like with the others, Jervis stuck his ivory claws underneath her eyelid and pulled. It popped out easily. Pastel's eye then was laid aside, it's green lifeless orb staring up at the side. Advancing forward, he also managed to carve a 'J' into her flank just as an extra precaution.
With the job done, he disappeared back into the underbrush and disappeared into the darkness.
Two weeks later.
The musk of death surrounded the junk yard. A corpse laid on the edge of the first trash pile, rotting away. Crows picked away at Pastel's body, hollowing out her chest.Upon the arrival of the first person though, they would all fly away except one. On her shoulder sat the smallest crow of them all. Pitch black like the night, they sat still. In their mouth was the female's shrivled green eye, staring out at those who arrived before her corpse. From afar, the eye would look like a shrived fruit, but upon closer inspection they would see what it really was. Needless to say, the site was unnerving.
//powerplay allowed by designated roleplayers [member=2072]selby roux ![/member] [member=883]sugary[/member]
DISOWNED [glow=#2b0505,2,300]tags - penned by orion[/glow] DISGRACEThe thought of his prisoners being taken back to their rightful home caused his stomach to knot and his throat to close. How dare they? Tanglewood had no right. Samantha and Beck were his. The two had been beaten to submission, one even gutted, but they still wanted those pathetic wimps back. To think that Crow wanted those impeccable cowards back on his land was disgraceful, but so be it. If Tanglewood wanted to continue their war, then go ahead. The situation was already chaotic. First this constant bloodshed was blatant generalization of their enemies, now things were getting personal.
Something Jervis had noticed was Crow's kinship. Compared to the ardent, Tanglewood's general held true to his heart and stood up for his family, along with his friends. It was truly noble. There were a few notable members he had cared for. One in particular caught his eye though. Their sawbones, also Crow's son, Selby was key to the group. Not only did they provide medical care, they also were by the leader's side. Those combined with his relationship with Crow knocked out three birds with one stone. Thus began their demise.
Through the grapevine came some astounding news. An opportunity fell before the vulpine's paws in no time. Talk came from afar about a girl by the name of Pastel, daughter of Crow and sister of Selby himself. She was considerably smaller, perceived as a kitten to many, and an easy target. Soon enough, the plan was in motion.
Midnight struck. A red glint in the moonlight slid throughout the night. They breezed through the marsh's rough territory and quickly into Tanglewood's home without being detected. Within no time the scavenger's target was acquired. It didn't help that Pastel wore a blatantly obvious witch hat that identified her immediately. Jervis, nevertheless, was pleased. His job was just too easy.
His victim didn't go easily. Her pointed claws raked through his skin as she fought to get away from Jervis, but eventually she succumbed. In no time, Pastel was dragged away by her scruff. She was dragged throughout the territory, ivy and scratches littering her body along the way, and to the junk yard. From there she was promptly killed. A simple slit to the small girl's throat did the job. For the most part, the only damage was the crimson stain left on her iridescent fur. After all, the vulpine needed her body to be recognizable to the rest of the group.
Even so, the ardent wanted to do something special. This couldn't be some random murder, no. They had to know it was him. What better than removing the female's right eye? After all, Samantha and Beck had received the same treatment. It only seemed customary. Just like with the others, Jervis stuck his ivory claws underneath her eyelid and pulled. It popped out easily. Pastel's eye then was laid aside, it's green lifeless orb staring up at the side. Advancing forward, he also managed to carve a 'J' into her flank just as an extra precaution.
With the job done, he disappeared back into the underbrush and disappeared into the darkness.
Two weeks later.
The musk of death surrounded the junk yard. A corpse laid on the edge of the first trash pile, rotting away. Crows picked away at Pastel's body, hollowing out her chest.Upon the arrival of the first person though, they would all fly away except one. On her shoulder sat the smallest crow of them all. Pitch black like the night, they sat still. In their mouth was the female's shrivled green eye, staring out at those who arrived before her corpse. From afar, the eye would look like a shrived fruit, but upon closer inspection they would see what it really was. Needless to say, the site was unnerving.
//powerplay allowed by designated roleplayers [member=2072]selby roux ![/member] [member=883]sugary[/member]
Re: closed doors || MURDER - Crow Roux - 08-28-2019
[align=center][div style="width: 55%; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]
Pastel was a wanderer by heart.
She came and left as she pleased and never hung around for more than a week before she was off on her way again to go someplace new, and boy did she go places. Every visit was filled with hugs and laughter and warmth, and the girl never failed to carry gifts with her when she appeared. Pastel brought with her mellow presence many books for her father, each with a note handwritten in ink just inside the cover, and for her brother she brought many assortments of plant specimens he had never laid eyes on before. For the both of them she presented intricate stories of the sights she had seen and the people she had met. In a way, Crow envied her for it.
When their reunion was all over, like always the rosy-hued feline would be off on her way again to conquer new grounds, and she would walk out the door with a cheerful goodbye and a promise that she would be back home very, very soon. Crow believed her. Someone as capable and headstrong as Pastel would surely be dandy on her own, so he did not find reason to worry when she was away for extended periods of time. It was just the usual.
As the feline passed the junkyard, he caught wind of the same smell that had emanated from the heaps of scrap for the previous week, and like yesterday and the day before he paid no mind to it. It was a junkyard after all. Things in junkyards always smelled unpleasant, be it the rusted metal after a rainfall or the carcasses of rats buried in the filth. He shook his head and continued on his way, but something nagged at the back of his head. A sigh escaping his lips, he poked at the chain fence, searching for a weak point with his socked paws, and he would slide beneath the barrier with a wince as he left behind a tuft of his pelt behind on a jagged point. Crow needed to figure out what that smell was.
As soon as the feline entered the junkyard, he would spot a cluster of corvids tussling over scraps on the ground in front of him, and a noise of annoyance rose from his throat as he walked forward to scare them away with an irate shout. As expected, the birds launched themselves into the air in a cacophony of squawks, but what he was not prepared for in the slightest was what rested beneath the cover of their dark feathers. A figure. A painstakingly familiar figure.
Crow felt as if he had prodded into fresh concrete as he willed his legs to take him closer, a sense of cold dread overtaking his form. A paw stretched forward to touch the corpse, and a patch of its rosy-hued fur freed itself from its pathetic hold on the corpse's withered skin.
Pastel.
An overbearing sensation of nausea washed over the tomcat, and he stumbled backwards and retched painfully onto the soil by his feet, then felt his body sink to the ground as rapid, wheezy breaths overtook him. She was dead. She was fucking dead, and it was his fault for not being there.
You did this to her.
Claustrophobia, then nothing. Crow stared blankly at the ground beside the body of his daughter, unable to move. Unable to think. Unable to do anything.
Re: closed doors || MURDER - selby roux ! - 08-28-2019
[align=center][div style="width: 51%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: georgia;"]Selby had taken to walks lately. They were a great way to destress, something he needed with his overcrowded schedule lately. Usually, nothing of particular concern happened. Sometimes he came across gators. Sometimes there were injured joiners. Sometimes he came across disputes.
This time was different.
In a tree with low hanging branches, he spotted a suitcase immediately recognizable as his sister’s. The sawbones carefully hoisted it down from the branch that held it. Weird. Pastel usually didn’t like to leave her things unattended. Plus, any scent of her had been long ago carried away by the wind. Selby hadn’t seen her, and he would have been one of the first people she would have talked to. His mind immediately rushed back to the injured joiners he’d seen lately. Casting a worried gaze to the ground around him, he found that the grass was disturbed in places.
He was immediately worried. The medic thoroughly combed through the nearby territory, trying to find any clue of his tiny sister. He found nothing. Pastel was tiny, smaller than a lot of normal sized kittens. It would have been easy for anyone to carry her off into the night.
Selby began searching the whole territory. The forest, town, the swamp, the beach; no stone left unturned. Except for one.
The junkyard had always been a place he tried to stay away from. Sure, it could be a useful place to find abandoned old things, but for the most part, it was mostly just gross. Still, it was the last place left on his list. No stone unturned.
As he approached the grounds, an overwhelming scent of decay wafted over towards him. Selby was not immediately worried about this. The smell could have been caused by anything: a bird of prey, a stray gator, a particularly large rat, etc. The list possibilities was infinite.
As he came closer to the scent, he saw a flock of crows fly away in a panic. He walked towards the source and found himself staring into a bright green eye, recognizable at once.
The medic had always been a little envious of his sister’s distinct look. Not so much her pink fur, but her eyes. They’d been the most piercing emerald green color, almost the color of soft grass. Selby had never really hated his looks, but he had thought that he looked plain, especially when compared to her.
Selby did not envy her eyes now. He shooed the bird away, angry.
He spotted what had initially scared the birds away: his father, expression simultaneously distraught and unreadable. Next to him, a lump of very pink fur. His gaze shifted back to his Crow, the body not registering in his mind. Back to Pastel. Then: "Oh God." He became nauseous and looked away from her pink fur, somehow even more eye catching in death. He froze into shock before the caw of a crow stirred his body into motion, though his mind stayed mostly numb.
What does one do with the body of their sister?Another glance at Crow told him that he wasn’t going to be helpful. You’re an adult. Figure it out. Selby came closer, examining the body despite every fiber of his being screaming to turn away. He studied the fatal wound with a sort of detachment, like this was any old body. He looked at her flank, examining the letter carved into her fur.
J for Jervis.
Not knowing what to do with this information, Selby continued. She would have wanted to be buried. He didn’t have anything on him to dig a hole, and he wasn’t quite sure that that was how someone went about that anyway. I oughta bring her into town... if I try to pick her up, her body’s gonna fall apart. No one else knew her. Who would want to help, anyway?
He glanced back at Crow, and though he knew that this likely not illicit a response, Selby said hoarsely, "What the fuck am I supposed to do?"
Then came the panic. He heard someone saying ‘what am i gonna do what am i supposed to do what the fuck fuck what what what am i supposed to be doing.’ It occurred to him distantly that it was his own voice.
Re: closed doors || MURDER - trojan g. - 08-28-2019
[align=center][div style="bgcolor= black; width: 500px; font-family: georgia;font-size:12px;text-align:justify"]Moth, at the beginning of the day, had thought that it would be a good day to go out and explore. She hadn't been to the junk yard in a while, and last time she was there, the female had only stayed for a second before deciding to leave, the big piles of junk too much for her smaller frame the last time she had been there. Padding out of her small hut of a house, the female began to make her way down to the junk yard, ears pricked and eyes open just in case she was to meet someone and ask if they wanted to come with her.
Turned out she wouldn't have to.
By the time she had gotten to the edge of the junk yard, she noticed Selby and Crow standing there, and soon enough Moth found her way over to them, steps slowing as a sudden stench washed over her, eyes widening as she took note of why the two were so still, Selby talking to himself and Crow so silent. There was a body. Usually she would have thought of them okay at the sight of death - they had lived long enough to see some she was sure - but she didn't think that it would effect them as much as it had. "Crow? Selby?" The leopard would speak, taking a step forward as soon as she had, "Guys, are you ok?" Obviously they weren't, and it freaked her out a bit.
She needed to do something to try and help them, but what? She wasn't sure. They knew who the body belonged to somehow, but Moth didn't know how they would have known her. As far as she knew Selby and Crow didn't have any other family, but she hadn't ever asked. "Guys you need to just b-breathe okay? Take a step back, look away. Don't just stand there, it's shock." She had been through shock before, when she had watched her dad die, and her mother had held her then, and she had started crying, the stench of sick and death washing over her. So she'd try and do the same to the two smaller males before her, padding forward she would aim to wrap herself around them in such a way that would resemble a hug, trying to get them out of their panic.
Re: closed doors || MURDER - wormwood. - 08-28-2019
[glow=#000,1,400]MY MAMA SAID THAT I'M NOT LIVING RIGHT. YOU RAISED A LION, MAMA, I AIN'T LYING, MAMA — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]
The smell of decay was something that Worm had become well acquainted with, not just because of his long history of dealing with death back in the pride he had come from, but also because it seemed as though death and sadness were all that were following Tanglewood around like shadows now. It was a hard truth for him – and he was sure many others – to swallow, but he had somewhat learned to deal with it. All that he could do was continue to fight against the darkness that threatened to swallow him up every day now, and he had dedicated himself to protecting Tanglewood and it's members at all costs, even if he had to sacrifice his own life to achieve it. Which was why, when he came upon this tragic scene, he was filled with guilt, and pain, and sheer untenable anger. It was clear that Crow and Selby were suffering, both from the words that were pouring freely from Selby's mouth, and what certainly wasn't leaving the mouth of Crow, the leader seeming utterly frozen as he stared at the corpse that had permeated the entire junkyard with the smell of death and decay. Wormwood didn't personally know Pastel in the past, nor did he know why Crow and Selby were panicking so much in particular over her death, but he was in no position to question it. Rather, his job now was to gather up the pieces of what remained of the leader and the medic before him.
Gritting his shape teeth to stop the utter rage that was bubbling like lava from his veings from pouring out unfiltered, the lion slowly moved over and inspected the scene slowly. His eyes lingered for only a moment on Pastel's now motionless body, before his gaze moved over to the eye that had been clenched in a raven's sharp beak. As soon as he saw the J that was carved deeply in Pastel's flank, the magma finally broke the barrier, his anger manifesting itself in a death rattle roar of anguish and fury, one that echoed throughout the trees and scattered even more crows into the air above them. His claws dug into the junkyard dirt beneath him as he fumed, words leaving his mouth before his brain even had a chance to catch up or even vaguely think of holding anything back, [glow=black,1,400]"That BASTARD! I swear to every god in the sky, Jervis is going to fucking pay for everything that he's done to everyone here. Especially for this, you mark my words. I am going to tear him limb from limb. I'm going to rip his head off, and pierce it on a pile just like that fucker thinks is so goddamn fashionable to have outside his territory."[/glow] As quickly as it had come out in rippling wrath, the anger was gone, replaced with a sense of horrible emptiness that clawed it's way through every limb in his body, through his limbs and up through his throat. Tears of rage and pain burned his eyes, but he shook his head to scatter them also immediately, his attention then turning to Selby and Crow.
He decided to address Selby first, since Selby – although obviously not okay – was somewhat more present than Crow was, and he was actually searching for something to do with himself. Taking a deep breath, the lion turned toward the medic and said as he glanced around, his ears pinning down against his head as he thought about what to do next, [glow=black,1,400]"Deep breaths, Selby. I... I know this must be traumatizing. It's obvious that this girl meant a lot to you and Crow, but theres nothing that we can do now, other than just try and make it so that she can be buried respectfully... obviously that's not going to happen here, so we'll need to transport her somehow. I can go get a blanket in a moment that we can put her on so that she doesn't... you know, alright? You just... you just stay here. Or.. or you can come with me if you want to. If you don't want to be around this..."[/glow] In the back of his mind, all that Wormwood could think of was when he had come upon Judith's mangled body, murdered by Poet and left in his home to rot. He remembered the sheer panic and pain that had gripped him – the way that it felt like his heart had been ripped out and shredded by Poet's very own claws. He couldn't even begin to imagine how Crow and Selby's hearts were doing right now, with a family member that they actually cared about, as opposed to his relationship with Judith.
Turning to go and get a blanket to wrap Pastel up in, he walked over to where Crow was and hesitated, having never seen the leader in such a state before. He stared at the other for a long moment before he reached out to gently touch at Crow's shoulder past Moth's form, whispering in a soft and pained voice that he couldn't even begin to try and hide, [glow=black,1,400]"Crow... Crow, I'm so sorry for your loss. But you need to snap out of this. This isn't good for you, and you can't just lay here and stare out at nothingness. All you'll do is fall apart... I'm gonna go get Leroy."[/glow] He knew that Crow and Leroy had been hanging out a lot more recently, and it was the first thing that popped into his mind when he was trying to figure out what to do. Looking at Moth, he gave her a nod and said softly, [glow=black,1,400]"You... you just stay with them for me, alright? Make sure that nothing... really really bad happens, to either of them. I'll be back as soon as I can, I promise."[/glow] He touched his nose gently to Moth's ear in an almost familial way before he turned and spread his wings, leaping up into the air and soaring his way toward the camp, knowing that was his best bet to both find a blanket and get Leroy for Crow's sake.
Coming to land just inside of the camp, he raced into his home and quickly grabbed the largest and sturdiest blanket he could find in his jaws, before he let his paws take him exceptionally quickly towards where he could detect Leroy's scent. As soon as he saw the canine, he said in a vaguely panicked voice, although he seemed as though he was somewhat keeping it together, even if it was just for the sake of the grieving brother and father that he needed to get back to as fast as possible, [glow=black,1,400]"Leroy! Leroy, I need you to come with me to the junkyard as soon as possible. Crow and Selby... they're not okay. Someone is dead, somebody close to them, and Crow is completely zoned out, and I thought you could help, and just... please come, alright?"[/glow] He didn't wait even a moment for a response from the proxy before he began to race back towards the graveyard, occasionally leaping back up into the air to glide for a bit before his large paws thudded back against the ground. Before long, the three that had been there before came back into view, and he felt like he was going to collapse as he returned to Selby's side.
Practically collapsing before the medic, he let the blanket fall from his jaws and didn't say anything, just laying there and panting for a few moments. He didn't bother to say anything to Selby, knowing full well that the leader's son would get into action once he wasn't in a state of shock and panic, not to mention the fact that the lion was just too breathless to get his points across. Fire and fury was still burning out his insides as he closed his eyes, a shuddering breath leaving him as the smell of decay reminded him of why he was in such a panic. He mumbled softly to the dirt as he laid there, his wings lying limply against the ground from the amount of work they had been put under in such a short time, which certainly wasn't a usual thing, [glow=black,1,400]"Fuck... fuck! Damn it... I'm so sorry. I'm sorry Selby, I'm sorry Crow... I should've been here to protect this girl. I should've been out patrolling or something. I should've been there to stop Jervis. I'm so sorry..."[/glow] It all came out in one pained wave, tears once again stinging the former prince's eyes.
( [member=1538]leroy[/member], since Worm went running to him )
Gritting his shape teeth to stop the utter rage that was bubbling like lava from his veings from pouring out unfiltered, the lion slowly moved over and inspected the scene slowly. His eyes lingered for only a moment on Pastel's now motionless body, before his gaze moved over to the eye that had been clenched in a raven's sharp beak. As soon as he saw the J that was carved deeply in Pastel's flank, the magma finally broke the barrier, his anger manifesting itself in a death rattle roar of anguish and fury, one that echoed throughout the trees and scattered even more crows into the air above them. His claws dug into the junkyard dirt beneath him as he fumed, words leaving his mouth before his brain even had a chance to catch up or even vaguely think of holding anything back, [glow=black,1,400]"That BASTARD! I swear to every god in the sky, Jervis is going to fucking pay for everything that he's done to everyone here. Especially for this, you mark my words. I am going to tear him limb from limb. I'm going to rip his head off, and pierce it on a pile just like that fucker thinks is so goddamn fashionable to have outside his territory."[/glow] As quickly as it had come out in rippling wrath, the anger was gone, replaced with a sense of horrible emptiness that clawed it's way through every limb in his body, through his limbs and up through his throat. Tears of rage and pain burned his eyes, but he shook his head to scatter them also immediately, his attention then turning to Selby and Crow.
He decided to address Selby first, since Selby – although obviously not okay – was somewhat more present than Crow was, and he was actually searching for something to do with himself. Taking a deep breath, the lion turned toward the medic and said as he glanced around, his ears pinning down against his head as he thought about what to do next, [glow=black,1,400]"Deep breaths, Selby. I... I know this must be traumatizing. It's obvious that this girl meant a lot to you and Crow, but theres nothing that we can do now, other than just try and make it so that she can be buried respectfully... obviously that's not going to happen here, so we'll need to transport her somehow. I can go get a blanket in a moment that we can put her on so that she doesn't... you know, alright? You just... you just stay here. Or.. or you can come with me if you want to. If you don't want to be around this..."[/glow] In the back of his mind, all that Wormwood could think of was when he had come upon Judith's mangled body, murdered by Poet and left in his home to rot. He remembered the sheer panic and pain that had gripped him – the way that it felt like his heart had been ripped out and shredded by Poet's very own claws. He couldn't even begin to imagine how Crow and Selby's hearts were doing right now, with a family member that they actually cared about, as opposed to his relationship with Judith.
Turning to go and get a blanket to wrap Pastel up in, he walked over to where Crow was and hesitated, having never seen the leader in such a state before. He stared at the other for a long moment before he reached out to gently touch at Crow's shoulder past Moth's form, whispering in a soft and pained voice that he couldn't even begin to try and hide, [glow=black,1,400]"Crow... Crow, I'm so sorry for your loss. But you need to snap out of this. This isn't good for you, and you can't just lay here and stare out at nothingness. All you'll do is fall apart... I'm gonna go get Leroy."[/glow] He knew that Crow and Leroy had been hanging out a lot more recently, and it was the first thing that popped into his mind when he was trying to figure out what to do. Looking at Moth, he gave her a nod and said softly, [glow=black,1,400]"You... you just stay with them for me, alright? Make sure that nothing... really really bad happens, to either of them. I'll be back as soon as I can, I promise."[/glow] He touched his nose gently to Moth's ear in an almost familial way before he turned and spread his wings, leaping up into the air and soaring his way toward the camp, knowing that was his best bet to both find a blanket and get Leroy for Crow's sake.
Coming to land just inside of the camp, he raced into his home and quickly grabbed the largest and sturdiest blanket he could find in his jaws, before he let his paws take him exceptionally quickly towards where he could detect Leroy's scent. As soon as he saw the canine, he said in a vaguely panicked voice, although he seemed as though he was somewhat keeping it together, even if it was just for the sake of the grieving brother and father that he needed to get back to as fast as possible, [glow=black,1,400]"Leroy! Leroy, I need you to come with me to the junkyard as soon as possible. Crow and Selby... they're not okay. Someone is dead, somebody close to them, and Crow is completely zoned out, and I thought you could help, and just... please come, alright?"[/glow] He didn't wait even a moment for a response from the proxy before he began to race back towards the graveyard, occasionally leaping back up into the air to glide for a bit before his large paws thudded back against the ground. Before long, the three that had been there before came back into view, and he felt like he was going to collapse as he returned to Selby's side.
Practically collapsing before the medic, he let the blanket fall from his jaws and didn't say anything, just laying there and panting for a few moments. He didn't bother to say anything to Selby, knowing full well that the leader's son would get into action once he wasn't in a state of shock and panic, not to mention the fact that the lion was just too breathless to get his points across. Fire and fury was still burning out his insides as he closed his eyes, a shuddering breath leaving him as the smell of decay reminded him of why he was in such a panic. He mumbled softly to the dirt as he laid there, his wings lying limply against the ground from the amount of work they had been put under in such a short time, which certainly wasn't a usual thing, [glow=black,1,400]"Fuck... fuck! Damn it... I'm so sorry. I'm sorry Selby, I'm sorry Crow... I should've been here to protect this girl. I should've been out patrolling or something. I should've been there to stop Jervis. I'm so sorry..."[/glow] It all came out in one pained wave, tears once again stinging the former prince's eyes.
( [member=1538]leroy[/member], since Worm went running to him )
Re: closed doors || MURDER - Perseus - 08-28-2019
What was once a strong stench in the pay was now a subtle cue to Perseus. The reek of the dead scattered throughout the area. His sensitive nose scrunched up in disgust upon realizing. Uncertainty caused him to grow closer to the scene, lurking about the edge of the junk yard until the found the entrance. Pawsteps of the others rang through his ears, most coming to an eventual stop. Movement past that was void. All seemed still from afar.
Upon growing closer, the heavy breaths and lowly pleading rushed through his ears. He managed to pick up the majority of Wormwood’s frantic apologies and Moth’s empathy, but past that there was nothing. Something had gone dearly wrong...
Rounding around a smaller trash pile, rattling a bag of tin cans on his way past, the canine found himself in the middle of the event. Wormwood was now gone, somewhere else. In the meantime, the others were left sulking. Perseus could not see the pain in their faces or read their agonizing thoughts in the moment, but he could almost imagine the terror. Even the tense air was enough to tell a story.
Certainly, no strings were attached. Pastel meant nothing to him as per usual with Perseus. Another lifeless body laid before his paws, stagnant and still like the others. To the others though, this girl meant something. There was a connection Pastel had with the others that the German Shepherd could not understand. They all seemed to cherish her here today, even those who didn’t know her and instead chose to respect her body. Some even stood in silence. Even so, the canine had experienced relationships that made him felt similar and ended so closely like this. He could understand their pain. There was no sympathy to his dull expression though.
He lowered to his haunches, sitting respectfully. As per usual, the German Shepherd uttered nothing and kept to himself. There was nothing for him to say.
Something rubbed him the wrong way when Wormwood returned though. The heavy breaths and the drop of the blanket broke through the silence, causing his head to snap to the side. Clouded eyes stared down the winged lion. They were blaming thremselves for the death of someone they barely knew. Of course Wormwood could been there. Everyone else could of been there assisting Pastel, but fate didn’t work out that way. What’s done was done. There was no going back. Yet here they were, playing the victim and pleading to the real victims to the horrific crime. How disrespectful.
This wasn’t surprisng to the older warrior though. With Wormwood’s feral significant other attempting to join after they captured Samantha, Perseus already had his suspicions. Something about them unnerved him. So far he couldn’t quite put a paw on it.
Perseus’ maw pulled back into a snarl. His ears pulled back and laid on top of his skull, signaling his distaste. ”Shut up, Wormwood,” he demandingly barked. That said, the canine expected nothing more except the lion’s utmost respect and silence throughout this process. Otherwise he’d be giving a stern talk to the other later.
//mobile + late, apologies
Upon growing closer, the heavy breaths and lowly pleading rushed through his ears. He managed to pick up the majority of Wormwood’s frantic apologies and Moth’s empathy, but past that there was nothing. Something had gone dearly wrong...
Rounding around a smaller trash pile, rattling a bag of tin cans on his way past, the canine found himself in the middle of the event. Wormwood was now gone, somewhere else. In the meantime, the others were left sulking. Perseus could not see the pain in their faces or read their agonizing thoughts in the moment, but he could almost imagine the terror. Even the tense air was enough to tell a story.
Certainly, no strings were attached. Pastel meant nothing to him as per usual with Perseus. Another lifeless body laid before his paws, stagnant and still like the others. To the others though, this girl meant something. There was a connection Pastel had with the others that the German Shepherd could not understand. They all seemed to cherish her here today, even those who didn’t know her and instead chose to respect her body. Some even stood in silence. Even so, the canine had experienced relationships that made him felt similar and ended so closely like this. He could understand their pain. There was no sympathy to his dull expression though.
He lowered to his haunches, sitting respectfully. As per usual, the German Shepherd uttered nothing and kept to himself. There was nothing for him to say.
Something rubbed him the wrong way when Wormwood returned though. The heavy breaths and the drop of the blanket broke through the silence, causing his head to snap to the side. Clouded eyes stared down the winged lion. They were blaming thremselves for the death of someone they barely knew. Of course Wormwood could been there. Everyone else could of been there assisting Pastel, but fate didn’t work out that way. What’s done was done. There was no going back. Yet here they were, playing the victim and pleading to the real victims to the horrific crime. How disrespectful.
This wasn’t surprisng to the older warrior though. With Wormwood’s feral significant other attempting to join after they captured Samantha, Perseus already had his suspicions. Something about them unnerved him. So far he couldn’t quite put a paw on it.
Perseus’ maw pulled back into a snarl. His ears pulled back and laid on top of his skull, signaling his distaste. ”Shut up, Wormwood,” he demandingly barked. That said, the canine expected nothing more except the lion’s utmost respect and silence throughout this process. Otherwise he’d be giving a stern talk to the other later.
//mobile + late, apologies
template by orion
Re: closed doors || MURDER - selby roux ! - 08-29-2019
[align=center][div style="width: 51%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: georgia;"]Selby’s head turned away from Pastel’s body as he heard Moth speak. He hadn’t noticed her approach, and so the medic was a little freaked out by her sudden words. How long has she been there? His apprentice’s words did not register until a moment after she had finished speaking. Step away? Who would bury her then? He shook his head frantically, mentally clinging to her body.
Now more alert, Selby was easily able to hear Wormwood’s approach. His ears flicked with the slightest hint of annoyance. There was going to be a whole crowd of people soon. With a sigh, he looked over to see the lion, and suddenly there was yelling. His giant ears slammed against his head and stayed there even after Wormwood left.
Next came Perseus, whom Selby had only seen a handful of times and never really spoken to. The dog came and sat down, a respectful distance away. He was glad for his quiet presence, or he would be if the situation were different.
For a moment before Wormwood returned, the junkyard was peaceful. He looked back at Pastel. How could this be happening? She’d always been the better fighter, even though she was the same size she had been when she first had joined. She’d always been braver, always more... everything. Had her size made her a target? Why had she been killed? Why had Jervis-
Wormwood was back.
The beast collapsed before him, blanket falling from his jaws. Selby watched him coldly, yellow eyes empty and devoid of their usual warmth. Why the urgency? Pastel was dead, and though not in the ground quite yet, she might as well have been. He listened to his rambles, frustration growing. How dare he? There were a million different things everyone could have done differently to prevent this, and yet Wormwood seemed to place all blame on himself. He’d never even met Pastel. Still, he remained silent.
He tuned out all the voices as he took the blanket and spread it over his sister, tucking it under her body so he could flip her over safely. Selby did so, wrapping her up snugly in it. She’d want to be buried under a tree. Something with flowers. "Find a fruit tree to bury her under, please," he said, barely audible to anyone who wasn’t paying attention.
Re: closed doors || MURDER - wormwood. - 08-29-2019
[glow=#000,1,400]MY MAMA SAID THAT I'M NOT LIVING RIGHT. YOU RAISED A LION, MAMA, I AIN'T LYING, MAMA — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]
Wormwood was jolted from his sadness by the arrival of Perseus, and the hard words that the hound put forth without a hint of remorse. The lion instantly flinched, a defeated noise leaving him, before he slowly pushed himself to sit up. He looked over at the canine, seeming almost as if he were ready to snap, his muzzle opening and closing several times before he closed it, not wanting to make things worse. If he really wanted to tell Perseus off, he could do it on his own time, not when there were people mourning around him. Besides, even if the older male had been unnecessarily harsh in the moment – or at least what the former prince saw as unnecessarily harsh – he did have a point, which made Worm step back and look at things in a different light. Stopping his blubbering, he pulled his wings in closed and simply lowered his head in quiet contemplation and mourning, trying to empathize with Crow and Selby, since they had obviously suffered a massive loss on that day. Even if Wormwood hadn't known Pastel, anybody being murdered at the hands of another was wrong, and she was clearly a good person if Selby and Crow were mourning her death. That was enough for him to feel a deep sense of sorrow – the same feeling that had descended upon the small group in a wave.
When Selby spoke up, Worm's ears perked up and he looked over at the medic, a worried gleam coming to his eyes as he gave a mute nod. After a long moment, he rumbled softly to the younger male, his tail flicking from side to side, [glow=black,1,400]"Ah... I promise someone will, Selby."[/glow] He wasn't about to offer himself up for that job at the moment, since he was still incredibly worn out and had done quite enough to piss people off already, but he wanted to make sure that Selby knew the job would get done. Most of the time the lion considering the burying of a member to be a family job, but he could understand if Selby didn't want to do it, and Crow hardly seemed like he was in any state to do it either. Hell, Wormwood hadn't even been able to bury Judith when she died, despite their mutual relationship being near hatred. Even just looking at her corpse had sent him into hysterics, and eventually some npcs had to do it for him. A sigh left him at the thought, and he moved off to the side, lowering his head in respect and thought. Somebody could probably find a fruit tree around easily enough. Not within the swamp, but the surrounding forest had so many different trees he was sure one of them had to be a peaceful fruit tree suitable for Pastel's burial.
When Selby spoke up, Worm's ears perked up and he looked over at the medic, a worried gleam coming to his eyes as he gave a mute nod. After a long moment, he rumbled softly to the younger male, his tail flicking from side to side, [glow=black,1,400]"Ah... I promise someone will, Selby."[/glow] He wasn't about to offer himself up for that job at the moment, since he was still incredibly worn out and had done quite enough to piss people off already, but he wanted to make sure that Selby knew the job would get done. Most of the time the lion considering the burying of a member to be a family job, but he could understand if Selby didn't want to do it, and Crow hardly seemed like he was in any state to do it either. Hell, Wormwood hadn't even been able to bury Judith when she died, despite their mutual relationship being near hatred. Even just looking at her corpse had sent him into hysterics, and eventually some npcs had to do it for him. A sigh left him at the thought, and he moved off to the side, lowering his head in respect and thought. Somebody could probably find a fruit tree around easily enough. Not within the swamp, but the surrounding forest had so many different trees he was sure one of them had to be a peaceful fruit tree suitable for Pastel's burial.
Re: closed doors || MURDER - fulzanin - 08-30-2019
[align=center][div style="width: 55%; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]The smell of death, to Feza, was reserved to food and for food alone. She had never smelled the scent from anything other than the prey that fueled her form. Even then, the smell usually was never as overpowering as this. She wasn't quite sure what had brought her attention to this part of the territory, a place that she had never been prior. The snow leopard heard shouts and noises of despair, and the smell, it was present. What had caused such a thing? Her curiosity had rose, and the snow leopard elected to investigate.
Yes, Feza winced when she heard the shouts of Wormwood. She could associate such a thing all too closely to herself. She'd gotten yelled at during her antics both times by the lion. The smell of death was so strong as she came closer that she had to fight not to recoil. She made no comment as she came over, and her confusion rose by the sight of the mourning group. She twitched, her usual need to have some sort of festivity to cheer up all this mourning arising. Then, the rational thought, that such a behavior would be the worst thing to do. Instead, the snow leopard slowly trotted over, keeping her steps light. Who even was that, what had happened to them? Feza's ears dropped to add to her expression of concern.
Didn't matter if she knew the person or not, this was clearly someone important. Feza could recognize such a thing through her hyper mind. She came to a stop a little ways away, still not sure of the situation. She knew her usual antics wouldn't be the right choice, and when that wasn't allowed, the snow leopard was listless for what actions to do. "Wh..what happened..?" Feza elected to finally ask. Her voice came out as a bare squeak, and her head lowered below her shoulders. The sight of something other than prey, the sight of another dead, it made her gut sink. Her pupils were thin slits, a small shudder shaking her frame. She felt bad for having to ask, but she truly didn't know. The snow leopard supposed there was usually no harm in asking a question, but at the time she certainly felt as if asking was not the correct action.
Re: closed doors || MURDER - DELILAH. - 09-13-2019
Delilah Evergarden
tanglewood | 32 m/o | femme | dark faerie
tanglewood | 32 m/o | femme | dark faerie
A fruit tree.
Delilah listened into the conversations from afar, blind pastel hues staring at nothing. She flinched at the angered tone form Wormwood, the snap from Perseus, Selby's request- Even Feza's question made the ex-medic nearly sob with emotion. However, the merely stood up, ruffling through her back for a vial of green apple seeds, settling it onto the ground in front of Selby.
"You pick the place, and I'll use my powers to raise an apple tree for her. Wherever you'd like." She mewed softly, soft pink flowers blooming around her paws, blackened vines wrapping once more around her paws as well, yet she pulled away, as if denying them.
"I'm.. So sorry that this happened. I'm so sorry for your loss, Selby, Crow.."
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