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LAST OF THE REAL ONES / capture - Printable Version

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LAST OF THE REAL ONES / capture - COSMIIX - 09-29-2018




Re: LAST OF THE REAL ONES / capture - JUNJI - 09-29-2018

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; padding: 10px; height: auto; overflow: auto;"][div style="width: 400px; padding: 0px; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"]it was hot. unbearably so. beneath him, the ground felt coarse and gritty, aflame with the heat of the sun, burning into his delicate fur. he had only ever known the coolness of the ocean breeze and the sunkissed beaches of paradise island; this place... he felt like he was on fire.

junji let out a soft whine when his body hit the ground, teeth gritting slightly at the feel of claws digging into his side, holding him down. he hated this. this feeling of helplessness, the same feeling he'd felt when that hound... blue eyes snapped open and he stared wide up at his assailant, frantically looking over his features, barely holding back a sigh of relief when he confirmed it was not the same one. though it was not the beast who had attacked him before, it being a separate one did not make it much better. the soothsayer was in foreign territory now, with scalding sands and no clouds to shield him from the sun's harsh rays. he was all alone.

he breathed in the mingling scents, wincing slightly in pain as he did so, and groaned inwardly when he finally got a grasp of where he was. the pitt. these... savages. they didn't know when to stop, did they? junji shifted slightly beneath the weight of quill's paw, spreading out one wing and attempting to swat his attacker off of him. a feeble attempt to escape, he knew; the boy would have to do more than that if he really wanted to get away. he dropped his wing and simply returned his stare up at quill, swallowing thickly before he spoke. "what do you want?" junji rasped, tail lashing lightly over the hot sand.


Re: LAST OF THE REAL ONES / capture - EROS - 09-30-2018

[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width: 55%; font-family: georgia; font-size: 11pt; letter-spacing: -1px; color: black"]"Possibly your servitude. Although I wouldn't recommend it." Came the soft voice of the dweller. Quill had brought back a captive and he lifted his head up to look at the large direhound. There was interest there everytime he looked at him and hardly anyone else received the same treatment. Perhaps Levi, but other than that no one. His head tilted to the side as the large beast stepped forward, shifting lightly as he decided to bring little [member=265]Keona.[/member] with him. To get her out and allow for her to have fresh air. After all she was his captive and they had come from the same place as he could smell the Typhoon in the air. This capture benefited Quill, secured his place here and he didn't have to worry about things. Not like the former slave did but he was grateful for Quill. Always would be. A soft smile played on liquor stained lips before he sat down and angled his pink marble colored eyes upon the male then before speaking to Keona. "Keona, do you know him?" Just a simple question, asking for a simple answer as he allowed himself to sit next to Quill, lightly brushing his tail along the larger canine's flank as it curled around himself. He was merely curious of the circumstances that evolved around this capture. Sorry that there had to be sacrifices for someone else to benefit but that was how the world worked in the Pitt. There were always sacrifices.


Re: LAST OF THE REAL ONES / capture - Keona. - 10-01-2018

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✯ — keona sibéal ó faoláin. female. minnow of the typhoon. blind. rusty spotted cat.  ref. bio.
The tiny fae would not consider the air of the desert 'fresh'.  She longed to taste the salt of the sea.  The coolness brought on by the ocean. This was a dry place.  She hated it.  More than anything. More than thunder.  More than heights.  She only hated Valkyr more.  For he was the reason she was here instead of home.  He was the reason she felt jumpy and wary of her own mind, now on more guard than ever. She spent hours simply perfecting mental sheilds, and even then, they had gone untested.

So she frowned - nearly downright scowled - when her captor had brought her out.  The child was a restless one, and fidegy, hyperactive, moreso in this unfamiliar place, but she stood rather stiffly following the Sha.  Her tail twitched. Ear flicked.  Her pale sea-green hues flickered upward absently, towards the sound of Valkyr's voice, but soon dropped again, trying to track whom she was supposed to be 'looking' at.  She already knew though.

Junji. The two weren't close, but she knew who he was well enough.  Knew the sound of his voice.  Knew, without realizing she knew, the feeling of his presence, as her subconscious worked to recognize everyone she encountered in whatever way it could.

She said nothing though, a firm, almost scared, sort of resolve dancing in her sightless eyes.
tá mé i dtiúin — ✯



Re: LAST OF THE REAL ONES / capture - SÉAMUS - 10-01-2018

Word of mouth there's a snake in the garden
Another of the Typhoon crew then.  Séamus was beginning to detect an unfortunate pattern.  Of course, all respects to the rest of the crew, but his only concern was truly Sibéal. The endfield held back the urge to wink at the Soothsayer, curious if the angel would even recoginze him in this shape.  Without some clarivoyant ability or an eye for detail on a crewmate he had not spent a lot of the time, Seamus doubted it.  He hoped the winged feline did not, if he was honest, to retain all the discretion he had.

The vulpine angled his head curiously on the angel, though his sea-green eyes flickered towards Keona, storing in his mind that it was Valkyr seemingly in charge of her.  Sibi.  She had that stubborn look in her eyes... He wondered how well that would work out.  Séamus huffed, fluffy tail swaying. "Good catch, though I'm not sure of the use in a little scrap with some useless feathers." Especially when he could not even fly.  A waste really.  Of course, the Irishman would be one to talk; he was not sure if the wings on his own form quite worked.  Perhaps for gliding.

The faerie smirked, a habitual movement of his lips.  There was a wry gleam in his eyes if one looked close enough to catch it. He thought that the soothsayer was a strategic catch, really, but he could only wonder the hell about to be paid because of it.  From his experience, it was never a good idea to go for the medic.  Not unless you were prepared for the consequences.  It would certainly be interesting to see how the pirate crew reacted to this.
[div style="text-align: right; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: 0px 0px 2px #009E60; font-size: 15px;"]— SÉAMUS Ó FAOLÁN
#psychosocial.