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+---- Thread: open/joining — splinters in my knuckles (/showthread.php?tid=4908)
open/joining — splinters in my knuckles - ISIDORE. - 08-09-2018
[div style="margin: 0 auto; border: 0%;width:60%;text-align:justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 11px;"]An angel had found him ... it must be. It must've been her. He just kept telling himself that, for that's why he could still feel the urge to go onward. Staring up at the sky, his eyes fractured up the black plane, picking out the brightest star. His gaze split it right up, looking between the twinkle and star shine for her smile. Fleur was looking down on him with a rosy grin, with brightness and brilliance in her blue eyes, warmth and comfort in the curl of her blonde fur. His angel. Isidore made sure to smile back at her, never wanting to waste one of her looks, always wanting to see her, just watch over the top of her head, swirling around in the night sky. But he knew eventually he would have to look down to see the world around him, to see the greenery and admire it too, to move on with things before his time was up. His stare only lingered a little bit on his perfect star, but he stumbled over the undergrowth below and had to pull away from his dream.
So, he looked ahead at the land about him. He could feel the ocean near him, the trees becoming sparse along the horizon. The serval rounded past a particular birch tree, cupping a spotted paw beneath a hanging branch. He sniffed it gently, peered at it with thoughtful narrowed eyes, and swiftly snipped off a small portion with his teeth. Birch. He was familiar with it, but he was missing a sketch for it, so he put the sample into his leather satchel with care. Isidore continued on though, towards the edge of the forest. He knew about the group that lived in the observatory ahead, and that's why he was here. But ... oddly enough ... there was nothing. No faint sounds of movement between the brush, a stale scent wrapping about the area. Was anyone even here? "I must really be the last person on Earth." Isidore huffed underneath his breath. He was so sure that a sizable group was dwelling on this land, but there was little to no sign of activity. A heavy brow furrowed above his round eyes, sharp chin wandering about in the air, trying to catch a clue as to where everyone was. He didn't step any closer into the territory though, curious enough to think maybe something bad had happened to make everyone leave the land. However ... all the plant life was in good shape, so sickness was out of the question. Violent predators, however, was still up in the air as to where the Ascendants went. If only he knew about the crowd in the observatory ...
Re: open/joining — splinters in my knuckles - MOONMADE - 08-09-2018
[size=9pt]Violent predators? Moon was supposed to be one of those. He remembers his mothers paws stained red constantly, not only from patching up the vicious wounds of her Pridemates, but also from creating some, herself, on the hides of another Pride's lions. He'd been surrounded by brawls and blood from the moment he'd been born. And yet, Moon doesn't have a fighting bone in his body. He'd never been taught. Its a miracle he'd lived to his teens.
"Sorry to break it to you," comes the lions voice, scratchy from his time in the Typhoon. He's got his head hanging, lumbering with sore muscles and even sorer wounds. He's still got one eye shut tight. "but that's not it. This Clan's just full of fucking morons-- managed to get themselves locked inside that thing." He gestures towards the observatory with his head, before locking his gaze on the pure white serval. Weird looking thing, but he's sure he looked weirder. Speaking of; "Before you judge, I'm usually prettier, swear. Just went to see a pirate about a torture, is all." He tries for a tilt of the lips, something tired.
Who was this guy anyway? Thinks he can just waltz into their camp without so much as a humble pause at the border? Moon squints, tilts his head as he stops a few feet away. "You don't look like the type, but just to be sure, you're not here with--" he pauses, searches for the phrase all the fancy higher ups use. "Malicious intent, are you? You looking to join our group of dumbasses, birch-stealer?" Oh yeah, don't think he hadn't seen that.
"Sorry to break it to you," comes the lions voice, scratchy from his time in the Typhoon. He's got his head hanging, lumbering with sore muscles and even sorer wounds. He's still got one eye shut tight. "but that's not it. This Clan's just full of fucking morons-- managed to get themselves locked inside that thing." He gestures towards the observatory with his head, before locking his gaze on the pure white serval. Weird looking thing, but he's sure he looked weirder. Speaking of; "Before you judge, I'm usually prettier, swear. Just went to see a pirate about a torture, is all." He tries for a tilt of the lips, something tired.
Who was this guy anyway? Thinks he can just waltz into their camp without so much as a humble pause at the border? Moon squints, tilts his head as he stops a few feet away. "You don't look like the type, but just to be sure, you're not here with--" he pauses, searches for the phrase all the fancy higher ups use. "Malicious intent, are you? You looking to join our group of dumbasses, birch-stealer?" Oh yeah, don't think he hadn't seen that.
Re: open/joining — splinters in my knuckles - | AGENT WASHINGTON | - 08-09-2018
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[/td][/tr][/table]Agent Washington
former human - freelancer - manipulative
(Don't mind Wash! Welcome to the Ascendants I hope you enjoy your stay here!)
Anyone had the potential to be violent. Anyone had the potential to be a spy if they really wanted to. The Freelancer knew all too well how easy it was to have a facade on their face. He had done it himself and he was currently during it right now so that the outpost wouldn't question everything that he was doing on a weekly basis and breathing down his neck all of the time. He wasn't a good guy, despite what everyone here was trying to talk about. He guessed that he was one of the lucky ones that weren't trapped inside of the Observatory, but he had to work his ass off to make sure that all of them would be able to make it out eventually. It was going to take some time of course, but there was the issue of their current enemy figuring out exactly where they were and what could happen to them. There were only around four animals that were stuck outside of the observatory while everyone else was stuck on the inside. It was frustrating that was for sure because if he was a human again, this would be an easy problem to fix, but instead, he was stuck as an animal with no tools that he could possibly use. He didn't have the abilities like everyone else had when it came to being an animal, and brute force wouldn't open the doors to the Observatory as they had already tried.
Some of those that were inside had tried as well and there was no way something like that was going to help them in the end. He seemed to really be the only one on the outside that was trying to get anything done, at least from his viewpoint despite it only being a day since everything that had happened. He had already devised a couple reasons as to why the Observatory would end up going into lockdown, and there were several methods that could be used to do such. He was only going to leave to try his method once he knew that he perimeter of the outpost would be secured while he was gone. There were two animals that were around that were big enough to take the likes of large animals on. He had no problems when it came to the wildlife that did live in the area, and one good thing was that he didn't kill anything in the means to eat it. He hated raw meat and would refuse to eat it because he wasn't some animal. He was a human. He refused to go down to their level where he would be reduced to such. The Freelancer had been going back and forth between the observatory to check down and write down records of his discoveries. Before coming back toward the edge of the outpost to check and make sure that there were no enemies that were trying to recon the area out and see what their current conditions were.
It was extremely exhausting, and he wasn't eating or taking much of a rest. He wished that he had the sedatives that they had when he was a human that would get rid of a constant headache that was pounding his head and simply wouldn't leave him alone. But, he was going to work with what he had, and it was a standard situation to get everyone out. The only reason he was helping in the first place was because they were civilians and if he needed something, he wouldn't be able to get it if all of them were dead. His comrades were also stuck inside of the Observatory, and he didn't exactly want a lot of children to starve or suffocate to death inside of a building. He was a killer, yes, but even he had his morals on when it came to who should live and who should die at the end of the day. The armored smilodon could be considered one of the more intimidating of the group. Wearing metal armor that covered his chest and his two front arms, while at the same time wearing a helmet that hid all of his facial features from anyone that looked inside of his visor. No one had seen his face yet, and he almost refused to take his armor off, especially now in an emergency situation that could warrant getting attacked by another enemy. He was going back to his patrols for almost the third time today after checking the exterior of the Observatory and checking in with those that were stuck inside of it in the first place.
Washington was exhausted, as he already didn't get any sleep before this event happened, and now, it was even worse. The Freelancer was glad that he had his helmet on, as it meant that no one would be able to see exactly how tired he was. The only way he knew that someone had made their way into the territory was because he recognized Moon's voice. Not that he knew the other's name because no one had ever spoken it around him and he hadn't been around when the other went 'vacationing'. The lion-sized animal began to make his way over, his presence easy to hear as his metal armor rattled with each step that he took. Washington noticed two figures in the distance, one was that of a serval, a completely different color than what Carolina was right now. It was almost ironic. Then there was the lion that he didn't know his name, and the other seemed confused as to what was going on. He wasn't able to check the other's scent thanks to his helmet and had to rely on his scent and hearing for basically everything. That meant he had no idea whether this guy was from the Typhoon or not, and if he was, he was going to be killed on sight. Considering that the lion wasn't attacking the serval, the smilodon doubted that the serval was from the Typhoon. At least that's what he hoped as it would make his life a whole lot easier.
His ear flicked inside of his helmet at the lion calling everyone inside of the Observatory morons for getting themselves stuck, causing Washington to release a huff from his jaws as he came up to the group, but as always kept his distance from everyone just in case. [b]"There are many reasons why a facility can go into lockdown. Considering its human technology, I doubt anyone could have done anything to prevent it unless they studied the schematics of the Observatory." Washington corrected. Sure, he got frustrated with most of the animals here, but with the situation that they were in, he doubted that there was much anyone else could have done. The Freelancer's helmet covered head then turned towards the serval, his shortened tail flicking behind him. Most of the time he wouldn't care if someone was trespassing, but if news got out to the other outposts they would be in trouble. He made sure not to go into too much detail of the situation just in case the other left to give out said intel to others, especially if he was paid or tortured for said information. Maybe he was just a little bit paranoid of everyone that was around here. "Why have you come to this outpost?" The soldier would question, having spoken in a deadpanned and soldier tone since he started speaking. That's all he needed to know, and despite having a rank in the group, Washington never really used it all that much anyway. Dealing with animals that weren't important to him wasn't his business.
howieAnyone had the potential to be violent. Anyone had the potential to be a spy if they really wanted to. The Freelancer knew all too well how easy it was to have a facade on their face. He had done it himself and he was currently during it right now so that the outpost wouldn't question everything that he was doing on a weekly basis and breathing down his neck all of the time. He wasn't a good guy, despite what everyone here was trying to talk about. He guessed that he was one of the lucky ones that weren't trapped inside of the Observatory, but he had to work his ass off to make sure that all of them would be able to make it out eventually. It was going to take some time of course, but there was the issue of their current enemy figuring out exactly where they were and what could happen to them. There were only around four animals that were stuck outside of the observatory while everyone else was stuck on the inside. It was frustrating that was for sure because if he was a human again, this would be an easy problem to fix, but instead, he was stuck as an animal with no tools that he could possibly use. He didn't have the abilities like everyone else had when it came to being an animal, and brute force wouldn't open the doors to the Observatory as they had already tried.
Some of those that were inside had tried as well and there was no way something like that was going to help them in the end. He seemed to really be the only one on the outside that was trying to get anything done, at least from his viewpoint despite it only being a day since everything that had happened. He had already devised a couple reasons as to why the Observatory would end up going into lockdown, and there were several methods that could be used to do such. He was only going to leave to try his method once he knew that he perimeter of the outpost would be secured while he was gone. There were two animals that were around that were big enough to take the likes of large animals on. He had no problems when it came to the wildlife that did live in the area, and one good thing was that he didn't kill anything in the means to eat it. He hated raw meat and would refuse to eat it because he wasn't some animal. He was a human. He refused to go down to their level where he would be reduced to such. The Freelancer had been going back and forth between the observatory to check down and write down records of his discoveries. Before coming back toward the edge of the outpost to check and make sure that there were no enemies that were trying to recon the area out and see what their current conditions were.
It was extremely exhausting, and he wasn't eating or taking much of a rest. He wished that he had the sedatives that they had when he was a human that would get rid of a constant headache that was pounding his head and simply wouldn't leave him alone. But, he was going to work with what he had, and it was a standard situation to get everyone out. The only reason he was helping in the first place was because they were civilians and if he needed something, he wouldn't be able to get it if all of them were dead. His comrades were also stuck inside of the Observatory, and he didn't exactly want a lot of children to starve or suffocate to death inside of a building. He was a killer, yes, but even he had his morals on when it came to who should live and who should die at the end of the day. The armored smilodon could be considered one of the more intimidating of the group. Wearing metal armor that covered his chest and his two front arms, while at the same time wearing a helmet that hid all of his facial features from anyone that looked inside of his visor. No one had seen his face yet, and he almost refused to take his armor off, especially now in an emergency situation that could warrant getting attacked by another enemy. He was going back to his patrols for almost the third time today after checking the exterior of the Observatory and checking in with those that were stuck inside of it in the first place.
Washington was exhausted, as he already didn't get any sleep before this event happened, and now, it was even worse. The Freelancer was glad that he had his helmet on, as it meant that no one would be able to see exactly how tired he was. The only way he knew that someone had made their way into the territory was because he recognized Moon's voice. Not that he knew the other's name because no one had ever spoken it around him and he hadn't been around when the other went 'vacationing'. The lion-sized animal began to make his way over, his presence easy to hear as his metal armor rattled with each step that he took. Washington noticed two figures in the distance, one was that of a serval, a completely different color than what Carolina was right now. It was almost ironic. Then there was the lion that he didn't know his name, and the other seemed confused as to what was going on. He wasn't able to check the other's scent thanks to his helmet and had to rely on his scent and hearing for basically everything. That meant he had no idea whether this guy was from the Typhoon or not, and if he was, he was going to be killed on sight. Considering that the lion wasn't attacking the serval, the smilodon doubted that the serval was from the Typhoon. At least that's what he hoped as it would make his life a whole lot easier.
His ear flicked inside of his helmet at the lion calling everyone inside of the Observatory morons for getting themselves stuck, causing Washington to release a huff from his jaws as he came up to the group, but as always kept his distance from everyone just in case. [b]"There are many reasons why a facility can go into lockdown. Considering its human technology, I doubt anyone could have done anything to prevent it unless they studied the schematics of the Observatory." Washington corrected. Sure, he got frustrated with most of the animals here, but with the situation that they were in, he doubted that there was much anyone else could have done. The Freelancer's helmet covered head then turned towards the serval, his shortened tail flicking behind him. Most of the time he wouldn't care if someone was trespassing, but if news got out to the other outposts they would be in trouble. He made sure not to go into too much detail of the situation just in case the other left to give out said intel to others, especially if he was paid or tortured for said information. Maybe he was just a little bit paranoid of everyone that was around here. "Why have you come to this outpost?" The soldier would question, having spoken in a deadpanned and soldier tone since he started speaking. That's all he needed to know, and despite having a rank in the group, Washington never really used it all that much anyway. Dealing with animals that weren't important to him wasn't his business.
Tags | Updated 07/27/18:
Re: open/joining — splinters in my knuckles - ISIDORE. - 08-09-2018
[div style="margin: 0 auto; border: 0%;width:65%;text-align:justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 11px;"]"Ah ... uh ... yes, uh ... juste ... right!"
That's all he can muster up to the lion in front of him, eyes widened to expose the clear white rims, lips pursed but twitching, rolling, trying to absorb everything going on. But after a moment of teetering, he stands a bit straighter, head lowering a bit to look a little less ... dumbfounded. They were all trapped inside that observatory? Well, at least, not all of them, from the looks of it. He eyes the lion, clearly a bit bent out of shape as of recently. And his explanation doesn't surprise him entirely ... pirates and torture. He knew he was in a different land now, where violence was more accepted and constant. Back home ... it was scandalous, everyone else killed with words. He knew how to handle himself tooth and claw though, but not in the way that Moonmade explained, no, not for torturing and pleasure. "Rough ... I'm sorry to hear that ..." He murmured, voice rumbling deep as he quirked an eyebrow towards the lion. The way he spoke, in regard to himself, made him sway a bit, happily. It reminded him a lot about how she would speak ... oh usually my hair looks nicer, oh sorry, I'm not made up right now ... and he didn't care, not then, not now, not ever. So he just smiled, and nodded his head, able to feel a bit more familiar with the stranger in front of him now. But he's taken to a different place now with his speaking, the word 'malicious' stirring a coy scoff out of Isidore. He rocks to the left on his paws, swinging his satched closer to himself, and further from Moonmade. "I did not ... I did not steal any birch, I collected it." His words are bubbling with humor, but they're light, soft, straying a bit away from the comfortableness, especially when he spots the smilodon approaching.
And he's thinking oh dear god, there's the predator, I was right, this is some sort of trap that this lion and beast have plotted to eat me up for a delicious summer picnic and it's the first time he's really thought about dying in a while, and he's afraid. After Fleur died, he had the yearning to just be with her, up in the sky, but he never truly thought about dying to be with her. Now, he thought he might have some comfort in his fate, but instead, he was perked up like a deer in the headlights, chin turned away but face staring with narrowed eyes at the helmeted creature. It doesn't attack him ... instead, it speaks. He speaks, but Dory doesn't know his name so he just tries to concentrate on his words. Once he's clear on the situation again, he settles, and lets his paws sink into the soft earth again, lips zipped together but trying to smile, trying to squirm away from the nervousness that'd swept him up. "Well, right, I came to join. I came to join the Ascendants, I mean." The white wildcat glances over in Moonmade's direction just to confirm he'd been right about his business, but he stares up again at Washington, nodding slowly like he's trying to convince himself with the words he's saying. "My name is Isidore, nice to meet you." He sort of lets his fate dangle there now with the two larger animals. He's doing his best to front like he isn't intimidated, as he isn't that small of a thing either. Through his words, yes, it's evident he's lacking the confidence he needs to pull through the ordeal, but his body language is a bit more solid, a bit taller.
ooc | thanks, i appreciate it!!
Re: open/joining — splinters in my knuckles - MOONMADE - 08-10-2018
[size=9pt]Just how many of these joiners hadn't seen a lion before? He wasn't even that big. Did they live in a hole? Probably. Moon stares the serval down as he stutters, one brow quirked. He definitely seemed like the type to obsess over herbs, anyway. Moon was glad he, himself, broke from the stereotype. At least he thought. "Yeah, well, you should have seen the other guy." says Moon, a throwaway response he'd always seen in the movies implying that his enemy had come out the other side worse off. But then he grins and says, a quiet laugh coating his words, "There wasn't a scratch on him. I can't fight for shit."
This one seems a little weird. Which isn't a bad thing. Maybe they needed more weirdos, Moon thinks, but then he remembers the sheer amount of questionable creatures in the Ascendants and backtracks. They might just have an abundance of them, actually. But he doesn't care. Anything to make the vast plains more interesting. He scoffs. "Right. Well, I collect that stuff, too, so leave some for me."
Washington takes Moon off guard, and he glances to his side with a subtle flinch. He'd come up on his bad side, the side where his eye was still shut tight, sealed over with slight cracks of blood. It hurt, but it was interactions like these that took his mind off it, if only slightly. He could still see through his other eye, though. It'd be fine. He flicks the one golden gaze back to the serval in time to see his obvious uneasiness, and Moon's lips crack in a lobsided smile. It's been a while since anyone's found their Astrology Nerd Asses scary. It feels good. "Well, welcome to our humble abode, Isedo-- Isi, Isa.. Dory. I'd introduce myself, but the cauldron's already bubbling, so-- Do you prefer you be cooked rare, medium rare, or well done?"
This one seems a little weird. Which isn't a bad thing. Maybe they needed more weirdos, Moon thinks, but then he remembers the sheer amount of questionable creatures in the Ascendants and backtracks. They might just have an abundance of them, actually. But he doesn't care. Anything to make the vast plains more interesting. He scoffs. "Right. Well, I collect that stuff, too, so leave some for me."
Washington takes Moon off guard, and he glances to his side with a subtle flinch. He'd come up on his bad side, the side where his eye was still shut tight, sealed over with slight cracks of blood. It hurt, but it was interactions like these that took his mind off it, if only slightly. He could still see through his other eye, though. It'd be fine. He flicks the one golden gaze back to the serval in time to see his obvious uneasiness, and Moon's lips crack in a lobsided smile. It's been a while since anyone's found their Astrology Nerd Asses scary. It feels good. "Well, welcome to our humble abode, Isedo-- Isi, Isa.. Dory. I'd introduce myself, but the cauldron's already bubbling, so-- Do you prefer you be cooked rare, medium rare, or well done?"
Re: open/joining — splinters in my knuckles - | AGENT WASHINGTON | - 08-10-2018
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[/td][/tr][/table]Agent Washington
former human - freelancer - manipulative
Fear was a useful tool when it came to trying to get information out of someone. During at time of War, it was almost like that of an asset. The Freelancer was taught early own during his career exactly how he was going to get information out of someone. They weren't just fighting another alien race during the war, as they were also fighting against other humans that were trying to join sides with the aliens so that they could potentially be spared. Washington doubted that would be the case as the aliens hated them as much as they did. Either the other group of humans would try and help the aliens, or instead, they would fight against the government and become the likes of freedom fighters against the government. Despite the threat of extinction, not every human was united under one another to try and survive the next hundred of years. As far as Washington knew before he was transferred to this different version of Earth, the War was still going on. Whether or not they were winning he couldn't quite say as he hadn't been keeping up to date about the War when he was in another military program that didn't even deal with helping with the War. One of the many things that he was lied about with. It had been incredibly frustrating, but he would have to admit that he learned a lot from the military and how a mind could work.
That didn't mean that he was great when it came to telling others that he wasn't there to hurt them. A potential threat usually meant that they wouldn't try to do anything against him if they knew what was good for them and that they would answer the questions that he gave them. He still needed as much intel on the places that he went to as much as possible, as it would not only help the anxiety he had of not knowing enough but prepare him for anything to happen. He had tortured some enemies during his time in Project Freelancer, which meant he was torturing another human. He had only done it once, but he did it well enough that the Director of the project had asked him to do it several other times in which he refused and told him to get someone else to do it instead of him. He hadn't tortured anyone, but the aspect of torturing another animal didn't seem to be all that stomach churning. They were just animals in his mind, as he still believed that he was somewhat human no matter what form he was going to end up taking. His own comrade had conducted a torture session, and it had ended with the death of someone that wasn't going to give any likes of information. Washington still believed that death was final and there was no way for someone to come back from death.
He thought that the animal they killed was dead, while in fact the other was very much alive. The armored smilodon was used to having others look at him with a semblance of fear. He wasn't to the point of being a walking tank as he wasn't that big, but he could still be lethal. The disadvantage of having a helmet was that he couldn't use his mouth for anything and only had his paws as a means of attacking something. The serval didn't really have much to fear when it came to the idea of Washington eating him. The former human absolutely refused to eat any raw meat, and also refused to hunt at the same time. What he did have to fear was the armored animal simply deciding to kill him if he got on his bad nerve. He wasn't against killing someone, but if it meant that he could benefit the outpost and the way they looked at him he wouldn't kill someone. Hence why the serval wasn't being pinned down on the ground and being aggressively questioned. He needed to make a good impression after all, as tensions were running high. Even if he wasn't capable of smelling fear, he noticed the way that the serval looked at him, and knew that the other was afraid of him. Was Washington going to calm the other down? No, there was no need to.
The other answered his question, which was all the soldier really cared about. They were here to join, and he flicked one of his ears inside of his helmet. [b]"We can point you in the right direction of where you can settle yourself in. This outpost offer shelter and a place to stay for those that request it." Washington stated in the deadpanned tone again, slowly turning his body in the direction that he came. He wasn't the type to give a tour, and he doubted the lion would be willing to offer a tour either. The armored smilodon listened to the other's name though and would try his best to remember it the next time he came across him. "Agent Washington." The Freelancer introduces himself, and he already knew that his name was confusing to those that weren't used to it. But, he was used to it by now and would welcoming correct anyone that said it wrong. The soldier didn't end up seeing Moon flinch to his presence when he first arrived as he had been paying attention to the other male entirely. At the mention of how he wanted to be cooked through, Washington rolled his eyes. "We will not cook you." Washington said, and if one could see his nose was curled at the simple thought of eating the cat. The thought made his stomach roll slightly, and he turned himself so that his back was facing the serval before looking over his shoulder so that he could designate the other in the right direction.
howieThat didn't mean that he was great when it came to telling others that he wasn't there to hurt them. A potential threat usually meant that they wouldn't try to do anything against him if they knew what was good for them and that they would answer the questions that he gave them. He still needed as much intel on the places that he went to as much as possible, as it would not only help the anxiety he had of not knowing enough but prepare him for anything to happen. He had tortured some enemies during his time in Project Freelancer, which meant he was torturing another human. He had only done it once, but he did it well enough that the Director of the project had asked him to do it several other times in which he refused and told him to get someone else to do it instead of him. He hadn't tortured anyone, but the aspect of torturing another animal didn't seem to be all that stomach churning. They were just animals in his mind, as he still believed that he was somewhat human no matter what form he was going to end up taking. His own comrade had conducted a torture session, and it had ended with the death of someone that wasn't going to give any likes of information. Washington still believed that death was final and there was no way for someone to come back from death.
He thought that the animal they killed was dead, while in fact the other was very much alive. The armored smilodon was used to having others look at him with a semblance of fear. He wasn't to the point of being a walking tank as he wasn't that big, but he could still be lethal. The disadvantage of having a helmet was that he couldn't use his mouth for anything and only had his paws as a means of attacking something. The serval didn't really have much to fear when it came to the idea of Washington eating him. The former human absolutely refused to eat any raw meat, and also refused to hunt at the same time. What he did have to fear was the armored animal simply deciding to kill him if he got on his bad nerve. He wasn't against killing someone, but if it meant that he could benefit the outpost and the way they looked at him he wouldn't kill someone. Hence why the serval wasn't being pinned down on the ground and being aggressively questioned. He needed to make a good impression after all, as tensions were running high. Even if he wasn't capable of smelling fear, he noticed the way that the serval looked at him, and knew that the other was afraid of him. Was Washington going to calm the other down? No, there was no need to.
The other answered his question, which was all the soldier really cared about. They were here to join, and he flicked one of his ears inside of his helmet. [b]"We can point you in the right direction of where you can settle yourself in. This outpost offer shelter and a place to stay for those that request it." Washington stated in the deadpanned tone again, slowly turning his body in the direction that he came. He wasn't the type to give a tour, and he doubted the lion would be willing to offer a tour either. The armored smilodon listened to the other's name though and would try his best to remember it the next time he came across him. "Agent Washington." The Freelancer introduces himself, and he already knew that his name was confusing to those that weren't used to it. But, he was used to it by now and would welcoming correct anyone that said it wrong. The soldier didn't end up seeing Moon flinch to his presence when he first arrived as he had been paying attention to the other male entirely. At the mention of how he wanted to be cooked through, Washington rolled his eyes. "We will not cook you." Washington said, and if one could see his nose was curled at the simple thought of eating the cat. The thought made his stomach roll slightly, and he turned himself so that his back was facing the serval before looking over his shoulder so that he could designate the other in the right direction.
Tags | Updated 07/27/18:
Re: open/joining — splinters in my knuckles - Suiteheart - 08-12-2018
SUITE
HEART
HEART
While Suiteheart would have normally laughed at Moonmade and Washington's interactions with the newcomer, she didn't have it in her today. The Admiral was stressed to the high heavens, and whatever control she had over her emotions was gone. She was too impulsive the think clearly, and her eyes were no longer baby blue - another sign of her lack of control. Despite being weary and worried, the woman knew she had business to attend to.
"Suiteheart Folie," she introduced herself, padding forward to stand between Moonmade and Washington. The smile upon her lips was halfhearted and hollow, and though she knew this, she didn't bother to make it seem more real. There wasn't much a point right now, was there? "It's good to meet you, Isidore. Sorry we can't take you to the Observatory. Like they said, we're locked out. We've got a place to stay that we can take you though."
"Suiteheart Folie," she introduced herself, padding forward to stand between Moonmade and Washington. The smile upon her lips was halfhearted and hollow, and though she knew this, she didn't bother to make it seem more real. There wasn't much a point right now, was there? "It's good to meet you, Isidore. Sorry we can't take you to the Observatory. Like they said, we're locked out. We've got a place to stay that we can take you though."
[b]suiteheart folie-mikaelson . ecliptic admiral . the ascendants . tags