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driving to our graves - o, joiner - Printable Version

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driving to our graves - o, joiner - fabrie - 03-29-2018

Well, shit. It happened again. It was beyond sickening, with the guilt eating away at her very being, digging deeper and deeper until it left Cass in an irreversible state. Being the pawn of some disgusting killer was practically her entire existence, but somehow, she felt worse every damn time that something awful happened. Sure, Utopia was the one that carried everything out, but Cass was still the one that they trusted. Whether or not she liked it, she and Utopia were a team. They were two opposite halves of the same identity: Cassiopeia.

Her bloodied paws carried her far away from the scene, albeit against Cass's will. Apparently, Utopia wasn't willing to stick around long enough to let Cass bury the body. It was the least she could do to make it up to her friend- Even if she was dead now and probably wouldn't even notice, she wanted to be respectful. She couldn't, though, leading to the guilt gnawing away at her even more.

She didn't hold a conversation with the other girl. She was practically nonexistent in those few moments, only being able to see and hear. The faces and names she'd learn, and the damage that would be done to them. She'd stopped arguing with Utopia over it at this point. There really was no hope for her; she was the weak one. She couldn't fight. She couldn't do anything.

---

Coughing and sputtering, the girl's body crashed onto the shore. The salt stung her wounds, and the impact from her landing opened up a few of the wounds on her legs, causing blood to trickle down onto the wet sand. "Oh - oh, no no-" Cass's panicked voice came out, not directed at anyone in particular. Where the hell was she? How did she get here? Where was her medical bag? What did Utopia get her into this time?

As if brought over by her thoughts, her eyes landed on the stray, beaten-up satchel a few feet off from her. The waves pushed and pulled it slightly, although it seemed to remain stuck in the sand. Wobbling over to her prized bag, the feline would start to move away the sand from the bag, grabbing the strap of it with her teeth, and pulling as hard as she could.

Cass had overestimated it, falling back onto her butt, and flinging sand everywhere. Smooth. Real smooth. Huffing in annoyance, she got back up, dragging the satchel along with her, until she was far away from the rolling waves. She unzipped the soaked bag, breathing a small sigh of relief at the fact her supplies were held in a water-tight box. At least something was going right for once.

First, she replaced her eye patch, considering the fact that the other one was gross and soaked. Yeah, she didn't want that touching her. After about five minutes of replacing the many bandages and wraps on her body, she finally decided to assess her situation. Okay, she was on an island of sorts. There was a jungle that she could explore. So far, those were the only things she could figure out. Was there anyone else stuck here? Even worse, what if there were dangerous people stuck here?

Deciding to not take her chances with a possible fight, she stumbled her way into the forest, dragging her bag along with her. If there was anyone else here, she just had to hope that they wouldn't find her. Even if they were friendly, it'd only end up being risky for them. Even if she didn't want to be, Cass was a threat.

A sharp tug could be felt behind her, and a few seconds later, her supplies came tumbling out of the bag. Crap, she must've got it caught on something. "Ahh - oh. No, no- Crap, crap-" she kept muttering little 'craps' to herself while scrambling to pick up and dust everything off. Frustrated tears fell spilled out of her eyes, and crawled down her cheeks. Everything was a mess, and she was stressed beyond words. At this point, she was shaking and struggling to even put anything away, as she tried her best to stop her tears. If she had any idea of where she just wandered onto - and if she had any idea that she'd actually been spotted by a local, she probably would've been crying even more.

//hhh, sorry if this is a mess - most of this is just me rambling + it's pretty late at night. also, seriously, no need to match muse if you don't want to. i didn't expect to write as much as i did.

tl;dr: cass washes up on shore, and wanders into the jungle. she spills her medical supplies everywhere and starts crying.

♡♡♡
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Re: driving to our graves - o, joiner - Verdigris - 03-29-2018

  Today wasn't either of their lucky days, apparently.

  Papercutter wasn't cognizant of that fact, however- the morning had been relatively uneventful, leading him to pass it off as just another day. His eardrum was finally healing, at least, so while his hearing wasn't going to improve any, at least he no longer had to concern himself with the possibility of the ear becoming infected. His leg was mostly in working order again, as well. He'd be in fighting shape soon enough.

  The jackal sauntered through the forest, a bundle of assorted plants gripped in his teeth, when his eyes caught sight of a brightly-bandaged bengal a short ways away. Why were there so many bengals in this place, anyway? Regardless, this one was unfamiliar, and he had a feeling it wasn't because of his brief downtime. Watching her attempt to stuff various objects into her bag, he pondered whether or not it would be worth his time to snatch the bag. Probably not, he decided, given that someone else would've already lifted the contents off of her if they held any actual value.

  Besides, the Typhoon's members seemed determined to bring in every stray who found their way onto the island, so they would likely desire to do the same here. He might as well go along with the process. Setting down the plants, Paper called, "'Ey. Who're you?" The bengal seemed distressed, so it was best to maintain his distance until he knew the reason why.



Re: driving to our graves - o, joiner - Guru - 04-03-2018

MANICURES AND PEDICURES, I'M ALWAYS TIP TOP
Crap. That's what she was about to say, just like Cassiopeia did. It happened to be another joiner upon their doorstep or another ambassador coming to complain about an alliance... enemyship... or whatever. Hopefully this time the problem didn't involve her directly. Despite that, Guru came stumbling over with a cocky expression, only for it to fade after a few moments after realizing the unfamiliar female's apparent distress from dropping whatever was in her bag. How disappointing, really. Nevertheless, that didn't end her will to show up and attend to the problem. The caracal's head craned momentarily, only to wander forward further to help.

But as she grew closer, the sight only became sadder. Not only she was pitying the fragile stranger, she wanted to lend them a shoulder in return for... whatever she wanted in the future. Guru's poorly-sweetened attitude returned. "You know," she began lightly, "I make a mean fist-sandwich." A paw aimed to clap the girl on the shoulder. Her other paw would also attempt to grab the female by the bottom of her chin and raise her head up so she could meet Guru eye-to-eye. "Chin up, sweetie," she cooed, a taste of annoyance to her voice. "No need to cry." She flashed a smile momentarily before continuing.

"Now, why are you here and who are you?" Her ears perked a few in interest. Hopefully there was a delightful outcome to this situation somehow, seeing that this one was a supposed emotional mess over.... what?... a bag?



Re: driving to our graves - o, joiner - PINCHER - 04-06-2018

the devil's backbone
DENIZ "PINCHER" ROUX — MALE — THE TYPHOON — CAPTAIN — DOBERMAN
Crying. Pincher was never good at situations that involved crying especially if they were not tears of joy but instead, tears that rained down out of pain or distress. He knew he shouldn't judge others by their ability to cry but by Agwe's waves, Pinch could not stand the gross sniffling or the exhausted shell of a being after they have cried their emotions out. He knew well enough how it felt, he used to cry every night after he had tragically lost his wife to someone else and had been forced to come to a realization that his children had been murdered. One died in the earthy land while the other had been tossed into the ocean like some pile of worthless trash. He had not been there for them but the widower had forced himself to not allow that pain to cloud his eyes and limit his judgment. No, instead it only drove him to hunger for more power, to gain a seething ambition to conquer and to win as much as possible. If not, he would have failed in becoming something more than some pathetic nobody that he had once been. The burning tears had become a ghost story to Pinch, only a few months had slipped along with the time of mortality and he no longer felt a prick of wanting to cry his feelings out or whatever the hell creatures did nowadays. Should he still be grieving? In a way, he did feel a tug in his cold heart when he would glance towards the ocean or hear the sacrifices that the Necro Mambas did to please the massive beast that was not seen by anyone outside the Typhoon crew. He would feel his lower jaw tightened against his upper one, the tension of muscles that were triggered by the flashbacks of his destroyed broken family albeit it only lasted for a few lingering seconds. They tugged at his heartstrings for a decent time before slipping away, releasing the cool charismatic demeanor back out to be displayed to the world around him.

The lean figure had been quite nearby like the other two Typhoon pirates yet after seeing a brief flash of movement and the scent of Guru and Papercutter, Pinch remained splayed on the ground without much concern in his captivating ocean blue eyes. His shark-like teeth gnawed on the limb of another dog that he had found trespassing, the victim torn to shreds and becoming the Captain's lunch. So he remained placid, his laying position holding smooth relaxed muscles and simply pricked ears. He didn't manage to catch the whole commotion but by the conversation bits that he was picking up, the doberman was able to guess that they were speaking to someone who had stumbled into their territory. How unfortunate — and fortunate for him. If the stranger did not comply and join the crew then Pincher would find himself enjoying another meal even though he was already quite stuffed. The obsidian sleek form finally rose after a decent amount of time, stretching lazily and spitting out the bone he had been gnawing on, watching it bounce against the rich grass of the rainforest. Trotting towards the commotion, he grimaced when he realized he had not brought a cigarette to smoke as he bit back a sigh of exasperation. He couldn't exactly act well without a cigarette to calm him down in awkward situations such as the one he was reaching. Oh, well guess it was time for him to learn to adjust to uncomfortable moments.

Once the towering male stepped out of the inky shadows that the lush rainforest settled, his calculative light cyan blue eyes fluttered towards Guru and Papercutter, allowing a light charming smirk to lace his jaws before he let out a low hum rumble in his throat as he took a few steps closer to Guru, playfully bumping her hip with his before the canine came close enough to be in front of Cass as well. If Guru had managed to tip the head up of the crying stranger, Pinch would raise a fictional eyebrow, quirked up with curiosity as the scarred Captain grunted "You alright, squirt? You look like you've gone through hell." Not that he really cared, he was just curious on why the fuck she was crying.

( eeee welcome ! <33 )
"SPEECH"
#psychosocial.