[ pls wait for Vic to post ]

The domestic cat wouldn’t be lying if he said he had a LOT to drink. In fact, one could comfortably say he had way too much. Considering he was used to drinking in his dragon form, which took a substantial amount of alcohol to feel anything, it was a large adjustment. He was under a tenth of his size as a dragon, and trying to drink as if this form could survive that much alcohol. It was stupid, really, but the older male couldn’t resist the sweet taste of wine.

However, he hadn’t blundered this bad in years.

Whilst chugging away at this bottle of wine he had acquired, Cory had somehow wandered in the wrong direction and straight out of camp. He travelled for quite some time, never putting the bottle down for longer than he had to. By the time he reached the Typhoon, he was significantly inebriated. His vision was obscured by the alcohol’s affects, and he was giggling away with each step. Water lapped at his paws a bit as he maneuvered as carefully as a drunken cat could. He was making his way right towards the Typhoon’s camp.

code by spacexual

the siren couldn't say that he was all too opinionated on the conflict between tanglewood and the typhoon, he was ultimately more concerned with his crops. such concerns had drawn the deaf male out from the main area of the typhoon, wandering out towards the edges of the territory where the railroad sat, looking towards some foraging on different solid ground. perhaps he could find more plants there?

humming to himself in a tune he couldn't carry or hear, the siren carried a small basket in his jaws, long whiskers drifting as he looked off to his side and the shallow water where fish swam. maybe he should do some fishing on his way home? lifting his head as he felt the timbers under his paws tremble, turning his attention back as tender paws picked up on a feeling. looking up, he saw himself nearly nose to nose with a tortoiseshell tom, surprise thrilling through him at the rank scent of wine. moving to step aside, the typhoon siren would growl softly and lowly, uneasy by the appearance of one he hadn't expected to see, and someone he hadn't seen around. lowering his head as he leaned a bit closer, sniffing at cory and recoiling at the swampy scent that clung to him like the wine.

the storm from the day before had put him in a sour mood and the wolf didn't quite feel like dealing with whatever would come of this man making it to the typhoon camp. he remembered seeing a bulletin posting about the swamp creatures, that those who smelt like the swamp were not to be trusted. he was faced by the dilemma of a swamp dweller just about on his paws, and well, maybe it wouldn't hurt to show some loyalty to his new home. issuing a warbled off-key warning growl at cory, he attempted a bark, ears flat and hackles raised as his sparkling blue gills fluttered angrily. "saaam." he challenged, unable to know his strangled attempt of saying 'swamp' bore little resemblance to the audibly-able. his tail flicked side to side as he growled again and pointed his paw back the way cory had come, hopping in front of the tom's way after some thought, deciding he shouldn't let him pass and make it to the gates.

[ feel free to post now! ]

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Cory, blissfully unaware, could not smell anything besides the wine on his own breath. He had no idea he was outside of his home, and worse, he had no idea who was blocking his path. The haphazard bark caught his attention, however, and a scowl formed upon the tortoiseshell’s face as he looked at the deaf creature. However, since he was so drunk, he didn’t process the former being deaf.

“Who th’-” Cory hiccuped, stumbling around a bit as he lifted his paw and pointed it in their face. “The hell are youuu? Move outta my-” he hiccuped again, moving past the stranger and continuing to walk with an annoyed expression upon his face. Leaving his sentence unfinished, he ignored the siren and continued to try and waltz further into the Typhoon’s territory, humming his drunken song.

code by spacexual

Gaze darkening as the tom opened his mouth to slur something, trying to read his lips to no avail. What did each word he say mean? It was one hell of a struggle. Growling in frustration at the inability to communicate and the fact the other just walked around him he gnashed his teeth together as his hackles stayed raised. Who the hell was this person from the swamp and what did he think he was doing?

Gaze falling on young Yptix, the siren bared his teeth not at her but at the fact one of the youngsters was potentially in a danger zone. Narrowing his eyes as he barked at Cory again without words, trying out a snarl in his direction as he stepped into the water and moved to step up onto the rails again, trying to stop the tom with his body mass or push him a bit to catch his attention. He would use force as a last resort and he was unable to tell him he was in the wrong territory.

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[ feel free to powerplay his capture ]

The drunken feline ignored the bird’s attempt at a threat, snorting at the child as he continued to move forwards. That is, until he was easily knocked down into the ground by Vinicius. This sparked a rage from within the domestic feline as he hiccuped and bore his claws. The siren’s weight bore much more strength than his own, incidentally knocking him over. With claws outstretched, Cory attempted to swipe at Vinicius from the ground.

“Th’ fuckssss your damage?” he slurred, completely oblivious to the fact Rosemary had shown up here as well.

code by spacexual

The ocelot had been right, he wouldn't have been able to hear her otherwise. Taking a moment to mull over her words, his blue eyes darting in the woman's direction before he slowly gave a dip of his head. He also had no idea as to why this creature was here, but he didn't have knowledge of who or what he was and what importance he had to where he came from.

Pulled from his reverie by the burning of split flesh and fresh blood, blue eyes affixed themselves on the tom on the ground so far below. Breath stuttering in his chest as he raised his paw to his chest, a few sparkly blue scales loosened from their hold on his chest, strands of blonde fur falling with them to the ground below. Lips curling back in a frustrated silent snarl and a lash of his tail, the siren would lower his head to the tom as he ignored the stinging slashes to his chest. Gently as he could despite his annoyance, the siren would grasp Cory's scruff and pick him up (powerplaying here, permission given above) casting a look at Rosemary. What was he supposed to do now? Did they have a place to hold the man from the swamps? What was he supposed to do?

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