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+---- Thread: guess whose back ✨ typhoon visit (/showthread.php?tid=6068)
guess whose back ✨ typhoon visit - no more - 09-10-2018
[align=center][div style="width:400px; font-size:8.4pt;line-height:1.1;color:#000;font-family:arial;margin-top:3px;margin-bottom:3px;letter-spacing:0px;margin-left:0px;text-align:justify;"]Though it had come to prove a necessary thing for him to have a certain set of skills, of which he had grown rather adept at honing, it left much else lacking. A strangely capable and intelligent child he lacked any want to learn of the inner workings of the group he called home or of those about him, their status where it came to concern the Typhoon lost upon him for the most part. Such was made all too apparent for still he remembered the time spent locked away within the observatory, an idiotic action leading into consequences he had not been able to predict. Or he might have if he cared to think for a moment, yet the structure of his thoughts proved rather strange, differing from most as they encircled only certain topics for any length of time, those he held no interest for often swept aside within moments.
At least this time he came with no intent to harm, though what he might have done would have been minimal at best, still given to a stature most towered over and injured as he was now. Against his side he felt his worn satchel hit with a soft thud as each step was made, clear in his favouring of the right side for still the left foreleg pained him, unable to bear his weight as the bone healed from a rather bad break. Across the open plane before him a single dark eye moved, the other left nothing more than an open socket he hide behind a leather patch with the shape of an owl carved into it, seeking movement. Amongst the rest of the changes were the matter of his horns, once little more than small nubs beginning to curl about his ears now badly removed, cut away and in the process leaving his ears a mess, filled with nicks where he had been sloppy.
Overall he was changed in more ways than one since last he had been here, his coming out and the matter of his name changing only one facet of it all, the outward clear for all as the sage once more began to move. About him heavy was the scent of the Typhoon, a mix of salt with a slight tang of decay, bitterly sweet and cloying, barely hidden beneath the tang of herbs. It would be enough to deem him an enemy, one to be attacked on sight for the past transgressions, but he hoped Bast at the very least would recognise him, if not they should be able to tell from this.
“Oi! Asscendents! Member me, da kid ya locked up?” Lifting his voice as best he could Silus stopped a good distance from the observatory, waiting to see what kind of response his words would get. He knew well none would mistake him for his sister, the two may be alike in some ways but in terms of looks the two held glaring differences, and none would look upon the tiny kitten and take him for a threat, not when various herbs were still stuck in his fur, but you never knew.
Re: guess whose back ✨ typhoon visit - MirrorEdge - 09-10-2018
"Not really, no." It was the truth. Thea didn't remember. The Fireball was one of the first to approach, offering the stranger her usual bright grin. She hadn't interacted much with them, just caught glances of fur in the dark, or heard the two shrieking bloody murder when they were first captured. Other than that, she didn't really remember. "Why? Was it important?" If not, then it had no place in her mind.
The leopard settled down, long tail coming to a rest on top of her front paws as pale blue optics flitted downwards towards the tiny kitten.
The leopard settled down, long tail coming to a rest on top of her front paws as pale blue optics flitted downwards towards the tiny kitten.
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Re: guess whose back ✨ typhoon visit - imperia - 09-10-2018
[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width: 55%; font-family: georgia; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 0px;"]Ah yes, the lock in. It is a time that Imperia does not particularly remember fondly. She remembers feeling...suffocated. Like all that exists is darkness and it was impossible to escape. Her consciousness turned off during that time; like someone pressed a switch and all her sentient thoughts disappeared, leaving only fear and primal instinct in their place. All sounds were drowned out by the incessant thundering of her heart, all thought disabled by the jumble of nonsensical urges to run and hide. All she wanted was to run, to be free. Imperia uses hate to describe things very sparingly, but she can safely say that she hates confinement. She longs for freedom, the freedom to roam as she pleases. To make matters worse, Moon was not by her side. He was gone, taken by the Typhoon, and unable to comfort her when she needed him most. Or maybe it was she who could not save him when he needed her most.
Imperia often regrets not being able to do more during that time. She regrets not helping those who needed her. She regrets not being present. She regrets not being able to control her emotions. A lot of people were let down because she could not remain in control. And she must now live with that knowledge.
The she-wolf remembers being vaguely aware of children who were locked in the basement. Prisoners from the Typhoon. It angered her, albeit briefly before her mind lost the ability to form a cohesive thought. Which is why she remains somewhat confused yet mostly upset when she happens upon the child at the border. In retrospect, she wishes that she could have helped him. "I do not recommend staying here for long, mon cheri," warns the halo as she approaches on silent paws. She does not think anyone will harm the youth, but Peri is not the sort who is willing to take that chance. "But I am sorry such a thing ever happened to you." a genuine expression of sadness mars the canine's lovely visage; her lips curving downwards and her large, doll-like eyes shining with emotion.
Re: guess whose back ✨ typhoon visit - MOONMADE - 09-10-2018
[size=9pt]"I know you."
He distinctly remembers his time in the Typhoon. As cliche as it was to be captured and have the memories acquired haunt you dreams every night, that was exactly what happened. Though, he wouldn't give the creature that tore his flank to bits the pleasure of being called the Protagonist in Moon's nightmares; what plagued his mind during the night was more so a blend of all of his bad experiences, both new and old. So it wasn't that pirate wolf with his cheesy evil monologues that dug razor sharp claws into Moon's skin and pulled 'till he sobbed like a child; it was his Mother. Because old demons died hard and if you could add to the cliche, why not?
"You were in the audience when that ugly fucker made me his canvas." His voice wasn't bitter or resentful, but it wasn't lighthearted or humorous as Moon's words generally were, either. "You pirates aren't so tourist-friendly, huh?" He stood beside Imperia, tight jaw making his words clipped, verging on biting. And he spots the flowers in the child's pelt and reminds himself not to be cruel, but the stench of the sea hits his senses again and he remembers that the relationship between the Typhoon and Ascendants wasn't exactly sunshine and daisies. Moon would almost go so far as to say he hated their fishy asses. "What the hell makes you think you can even turn up here, anyway, kid?"
He distinctly remembers his time in the Typhoon. As cliche as it was to be captured and have the memories acquired haunt you dreams every night, that was exactly what happened. Though, he wouldn't give the creature that tore his flank to bits the pleasure of being called the Protagonist in Moon's nightmares; what plagued his mind during the night was more so a blend of all of his bad experiences, both new and old. So it wasn't that pirate wolf with his cheesy evil monologues that dug razor sharp claws into Moon's skin and pulled 'till he sobbed like a child; it was his Mother. Because old demons died hard and if you could add to the cliche, why not?
"You were in the audience when that ugly fucker made me his canvas." His voice wasn't bitter or resentful, but it wasn't lighthearted or humorous as Moon's words generally were, either. "You pirates aren't so tourist-friendly, huh?" He stood beside Imperia, tight jaw making his words clipped, verging on biting. And he spots the flowers in the child's pelt and reminds himself not to be cruel, but the stench of the sea hits his senses again and he remembers that the relationship between the Typhoon and Ascendants wasn't exactly sunshine and daisies. Moon would almost go so far as to say he hated their fishy asses. "What the hell makes you think you can even turn up here, anyway, kid?"
Re: guess whose back ✨ typhoon visit - BASTILLEPAW - 09-11-2018
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BASTILLEPRISONER AURELIUS
BY THE GRACE OF THE FIRE AND THE FLAMES
Bastille was not by any means a good leader, per se. He hated his job and all forms of authority, lacked the basic fucks to give, and generally could be a little impulsive himself when he really got himself worked up over those who mattered to him (namely, his people); he'd pointedly said as much, several times, and would stand by his sentiments that this whole damn place was going to burn down at his paws one day. So, sure: he made a lot of mistakes. He did fairly stupid shit sometimes, even if he meant mostly well by it. Sometimes he looked at a pair of kittens in the middle of his territory and decided that they were perfectly good bargaining chips, as long as no one harmed them and they got home safely (because he wasn't a monster). Naturally, he remembered that particular flaw in judgment as one of his worst ones yet; but even beyond that, it would be hard to forget those two little spitfires after spending a week locked up with them.
[b]"Hey, squirt," he drawled, evidently not at all bothered by the saltiness of Typhoon scent in the air once he identified the aura and voice, stopping idly beside Moon to eye her (for not all the changes about "her" had yet to register with him fully, and Bast recognized Aita, not Silus) with open amusement. She had some nerve, he supposed, waltzing back into their territory, but then again she clearly knew that no one here was going to hurt her if they hadn't before. "To what do I owe the displeasure of being harassed by you again?" he teased, his complete disregard for her enemy status completely countering Moon's sass. Oops.
[b]"Hey, squirt," he drawled, evidently not at all bothered by the saltiness of Typhoon scent in the air once he identified the aura and voice, stopping idly beside Moon to eye her (for not all the changes about "her" had yet to register with him fully, and Bast recognized Aita, not Silus) with open amusement. She had some nerve, he supposed, waltzing back into their territory, but then again she clearly knew that no one here was going to hurt her if they hadn't before. "To what do I owe the displeasure of being harassed by you again?" he teased, his complete disregard for her enemy status completely countering Moon's sass. Oops.
[B]ASTRAL SERAPH — THE ASCENDANTS — [color=#e2e2e2]TAGS — [color=#e2e2e2]MOODBOARD — [color=#e2e2e2]PLAYLIST
Re: guess whose back ✨ typhoon visit - no more - 09-11-2018
[align=center][div style="width:400px; font-size:8.4pt;line-height:1.1;color:#000;font-family:arial;margin-top:3px;margin-bottom:3px;letter-spacing:0px;margin-left:0px;text-align:justify;"]There is a quiet moment of contemplation, a few beats where his voice faded into silence before another rose, faint the hum drawn from the child. Caught within his mind various thoughts arose, snatches of the days spent locked away where the darkness had seemed a cloying present, curling about him fingers sharpened into fine points and still they followed. He knew well the things he saw held no trace of reality about them, shapes strange and grotesque, mockery of a humanoid structure twisting until it fit no mould beyond its own. Nothing more than hallucinations drawn forth from a mind driven to a point of exhastion – so why was it his mind spoke of their truth, made them feel as though he touched silk, slippery and smooth, skin crawling though he was incapable of not reaching.
Head snapped up, dark eye blinking as a voice rose, unfamiliar to him. The one before him was not familiar, one of a multitude he had not had the displeasure of meeting in the dark space, yet her tone, all too chipper to be real surely, never hinted at hostility. Strange was it but then there had been none when Bastille had swept them up, unwelcome touch he had struggled to fight back against, speaking in a tone meant to calm and making promises he thought false.
“If ya call keepin da Typhoon leader's son an 'ealer locked up important sure, but nah, don' tink dey missed me much,” upon dark lips a smile took hold yet compared to Thea's it was sharp – all teeth and no humour. He had been greeted by few, amongst them the one man he despised who thought better of looking upon his own grandchild kindly, deeming his place as a healer fit more for scorn. In truth he was surprised he lingered so long, allowed himself to wallow within the internal hatred, but then he might truly be the pathetic disappointment his grandfather spoke of.
Her voice is gentle and soft, a summer breeze, unlike those he had grown accustomed to. Most held a more gruff tone, were not beyond allowing their more colourful words to shine through, of which Silus himself was prone to, and held accents which altered the way of their speech, though none softened it. This was different for her own was clear yet gave a gentle edge to each word, warmed it though the tone was one more inclined to the negative. “Is okay, me own fault,” softening in turn he allowed his smile to close, given a more genuine touch as he turned to regard the canine. Spun silver spread across pearly ivory, he found himself caught up for a moment for he had no chance to properly see her before, a pretty sight yet one which drew his thoughts back to a few others. He found the want to speak of Jacob raising, uttering the words of his demise yet held it back. It was personal business only the members of the Roux family knew of, even the greater majority of the crew not given the chance to learn of it.
“An I know you,” there is no bite in the words, more a dejected, broken sorrow, something the child had felt in those first moments. If he might be deemed a traitor for his wants so be it but he had felt it all the same, burning in his stomach as he watched the wolf tear into the captured lion, so young yet still wanting to step in and help. He had not know the way of things then, a time before he had been deemed a Sage and thus had never needed to learn of the inner workings, though he cared not for them now a month on from becoming a healer, but had seen the pain inflicted and wanted it ended. Yet he had been unsuccessful in his search for Moon once all had been done, performed in secret in hopes he might offer some assistance, and now he looked upon the other with a shadowed eye, pushing aside the memories.
“Not really, but neitha ar ya,” as he allowed the words to rise he took a few seconds to mull over his next, wondering what to say. “Am sorry fer what 'appened but a kid can' do much, an he... dat fuck wasn' right.” Still was the knowledge of what Decius had done hidden, kept locked away by the few he had been able to take of their own crew, yet Silus held some idea of what he had done. It had been sometime since the wolf had simply disappeared and the influx of injury had slowed, all he had dealt with in recent weeks easily tied to sources close at hand, and so he put the blame for it all upon the wolf readily.
He opened his mouth to answer Moon's inquiry but then it seemed Bast thought it best to make his entrance, a snort arising instead of the intended answer. From what Silus had seen he was not by far a bad leader, in truth he saw similarities between Bast and his own father, both pushing to better thing for their people and thinking little of their own health, but then one was mortal while the other was a seemingly immortal demi-God. “Is Silus, not squirt, fucker,” though an edge was present it seemed teasing, given no real bite. He held no energy to argue the point, much wasted upon the journey getting here for his health was on a decline, it seemed fucking yourself over for others run in the family after all, his attention briefly touching on Moon once more. Strange was it that he was the only one to speak so roughly while even his leader seemed more open to things, but then it hadn't been Bast who had felt the claws of their crew.
Flipping open their satchel he began to pull out a few jars, the lids tapped so the contents wouldn't be able to get out. Within was a rather bright shade of orange, an almost viscus fluid more like gel then anything, three large ones pushed forward. “Elps wit burns, made em me self an yeah, been tested,” on his own patients no less when it had been in a developmental state and only recently upon the Rosebloods. Though it would do little for third degree it had proven to help sooth first and second, the mix numbing the skin and leaving it feeling cool to the touch, some of the ingredients able to keep infection away. “Isn' much I know but I wanta say I'm... sorry fer bein a brat I wasn' tinkin straight.”
Seemingly remembering himself once more he delved back into his bag, pulling out a small bundle. “Des as well,” as he spoke he threw them towards Bast, the bundle landing before him though not opening. A large swath of fabric tied in a knot within was a good number of mini muffins he had picked up at Luca's bakery before leaving, the hard travel, almost none stop as he wanted this over with, meaning they were still relatively fresh. "Don' tell Luca or 'e'll 'ave me hide, he wasn' too 'appy ta be eaten but den he kinda deserved it."
Re: guess whose back ✨ typhoon visit - ONISION. - 09-11-2018
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Ah, the raptors that ate that ugly bastard who helped raid them. While Onision couldn't care less for Owen and his raptors, he still was proud of that damn german shepherd for sicking the raptors on those fuckers.
Slowly, carefully, with his head held high, Onision walked over to the scene, a single cold blue iris focused on the Typhoon's healer. They had locked up the kid? Well, poor thing. Sike. "So you're here apologizing? Wow, must've taken a lot of balls." Chuckled Oni as he pushed against Bastille's side, alerting the Seraph of his arrival. How glorious it must be to deal with a bunch of pirate fuckfaces. He wished he had attended that raid himself. He was too young, though. Much too young.
"Yeah, yeah. Anything else, man?" Oni snickered, turning to Moonmade with a neutral expression on his face. "What do we do about him? Just let him go?" He signed, rolling his single eye back to Bast.
Ah, the raptors that ate that ugly bastard who helped raid them. While Onision couldn't care less for Owen and his raptors, he still was proud of that damn german shepherd for sicking the raptors on those fuckers.
Slowly, carefully, with his head held high, Onision walked over to the scene, a single cold blue iris focused on the Typhoon's healer. They had locked up the kid? Well, poor thing. Sike. "So you're here apologizing? Wow, must've taken a lot of balls." Chuckled Oni as he pushed against Bastille's side, alerting the Seraph of his arrival. How glorious it must be to deal with a bunch of pirate fuckfaces. He wished he had attended that raid himself. He was too young, though. Much too young.
"Yeah, yeah. Anything else, man?" Oni snickered, turning to Moonmade with a neutral expression on his face. "What do we do about him? Just let him go?" He signed, rolling his single eye back to Bast.
[align=center]YOU'RE HARD TO HUG
ONISION MIKAELSON-FOLIE
tough to talk to, and i never fall asleep!
tough to talk to, and i never fall asleep!
© ceilidh