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+---- Thread: TAKE IT ON FAITH + JOINING (/showthread.php?tid=9677)
TAKE IT ON FAITH + JOINING - toboggan - 06-02-2019
In retrospect, perhaps leaving all he had ever known behind wasn’t the best decision he’s made.
Equipped with a faulty sense of direction and an imprudent hope for answers, a young, inexperienced feline had relinquished his role as watcher to become a doer. It was up to him to show those who talked poorly of him just how incorrect they were - he was capable of accomplishing tremendous feats, despite them not recognizing it. Completely abandoning his creed and previous lifestyle, he fled to the beyond, where the real world awaited him. The issue was, what he was taught as ‘the real world’ wasn’t ‘the real world’ at all.
Miseducated about society since boyhood, Langdon and his sect were lead to believe that those who possessed opposing doctrines were meant to be cleansed. Now that he was exposed to the real world, the male understood the falsehood of the ideology he priorly followed. From that point forth, it was not in his intentions to be a doer, but to persist as a survivor.
The revelation of his teachings being incorrect left him utterly lost. The denomination trained their people to exist within a primal and tempestuous civilization, when in reality, it was the other way around. The outlook on life that they shoved in his brain was underhandedly moulded - hence, he knew not how to properly act within a social order.
A solid year of aimlessly ambling followed. What he became was akin to driftwood, bobbing amidst the endless waters of the sea. Lacking the appropriate skillset required to retain a legitimate lifestyle, Langdon Speight refrained from staying in the same location twice.
For all he knew, this island was nothing but another pit stop. A place to grab some tropical grub and sleep among the waves. In the morning, his travels would resume to their normal agenda. From a distance, it looked uninhabited, too, which peaked his interest as he operated best when far off from the nearest population.
Feathery wings halted their flapping, tucking into his midsection while he began his descent, leaving the castaway barrelling towards the earth at preposterous speeds. His body levelled out once it met the treeline, transitioning into a glide - though, he hadn’t anticipated a rogue branch that would clip his wing as he passed. Sending the airborne mammal into a tumble, his body met the ground with a FWUMP!
A pain-fuelled groan scarcely escaped his maw. Discomfort such as this was somewhat of an old friend of his, though it was an old friend he had not had contact with for quite the amount of time. An attempt was made to raise his torso off the ground; the attempt’s failure dropped his physique back against the cool dirt.
The gray feline lay flat on the ground.
It wasn’t a great start to his night, to say the least. Though, the potential of it even worsening was still there.
Equipped with a faulty sense of direction and an imprudent hope for answers, a young, inexperienced feline had relinquished his role as watcher to become a doer. It was up to him to show those who talked poorly of him just how incorrect they were - he was capable of accomplishing tremendous feats, despite them not recognizing it. Completely abandoning his creed and previous lifestyle, he fled to the beyond, where the real world awaited him. The issue was, what he was taught as ‘the real world’ wasn’t ‘the real world’ at all.
Miseducated about society since boyhood, Langdon and his sect were lead to believe that those who possessed opposing doctrines were meant to be cleansed. Now that he was exposed to the real world, the male understood the falsehood of the ideology he priorly followed. From that point forth, it was not in his intentions to be a doer, but to persist as a survivor.
The revelation of his teachings being incorrect left him utterly lost. The denomination trained their people to exist within a primal and tempestuous civilization, when in reality, it was the other way around. The outlook on life that they shoved in his brain was underhandedly moulded - hence, he knew not how to properly act within a social order.
A solid year of aimlessly ambling followed. What he became was akin to driftwood, bobbing amidst the endless waters of the sea. Lacking the appropriate skillset required to retain a legitimate lifestyle, Langdon Speight refrained from staying in the same location twice.
For all he knew, this island was nothing but another pit stop. A place to grab some tropical grub and sleep among the waves. In the morning, his travels would resume to their normal agenda. From a distance, it looked uninhabited, too, which peaked his interest as he operated best when far off from the nearest population.
Feathery wings halted their flapping, tucking into his midsection while he began his descent, leaving the castaway barrelling towards the earth at preposterous speeds. His body levelled out once it met the treeline, transitioning into a glide - though, he hadn’t anticipated a rogue branch that would clip his wing as he passed. Sending the airborne mammal into a tumble, his body met the ground with a FWUMP!
A pain-fuelled groan scarcely escaped his maw. Discomfort such as this was somewhat of an old friend of his, though it was an old friend he had not had contact with for quite the amount of time. An attempt was made to raise his torso off the ground; the attempt’s failure dropped his physique back against the cool dirt.
The gray feline lay flat on the ground.
It wasn’t a great start to his night, to say the least. Though, the potential of it even worsening was still there.
Re: TAKE IT ON FAITH + JOINING - Crackers - 06-02-2019
CHEMICAL WARFARE
MELANISTIC AGUAR - MALE - 19 MONTHS - TYPHOON - WEARS GOLD HOOP EARRING
For a good chunk of Chems early life, he too had been living to survive. When you hit rock bottom and find yourself with nothing it's really the only thing to do. And for a while, that had been enough. Getting through the days, figuring things out, finding his place. But he had come to eventually learn though that your place in life was what you made it. He'd been a naive and impulsive kid without a thing in the world to call his own, and he'd learned fast how the world actually worked. It had left him bitter for a good chunk of his youth- until he realized that his angst and anger was pointless. Living to survive just wasn't enough anymore, and it eventually evolved into quite the opposite: surviving to live. There was a high that came from living itself, and once you discovered it you found it wasn't so easy to quit. And Chem had found that high, that zest for life. He thrived in the unpredictable chaos that was the world around him and he felt no regrets for anything he did.
In a way it was very fitting that he had ended up in a place like the Typhoon. While the open ocean and the undersea dome still unnerved him, there was an undeniable pull he felt toward this place. From the lively crew of the clan to the tropical island and it pristine beaches with their coral reefs, there was a sense of peace and paradise in this unruly place, and it was perfect for him. He had sought a place that prized loyalty and adventure and action, for he was a social beast that enjoyed a strong sense of community. But don't think him innocent, for that would be a grave mistake. Chem was a pirate at heart, a fighter and a taker, a selfish man who put himself and his own first. He wasn't cruel but he wasn't soft at heart either, and from the scars along his coal and black spotted coat to the shark tooth necklace and the piercings in his ear, he was an omen of danger wherever he went.
Wandering the borders of the Isle was a common pass time of his, and he'd been standing guard in the branches of a nearby tree to catch some sun when he spotted the rough landing of a gray and pink cat. He would wince but let an amused smile slip onto his lips before climbing down the tree and making his way over. "You alive? Cuz if so you definitely need to work on your landing, man." He'd say as he gave the other a gentle prod in the side.
"SPEECH
MELANISTIC AGUAR - MALE - 19 MONTHS - TYPHOON - WEARS GOLD HOOP EARRING
For a good chunk of Chems early life, he too had been living to survive. When you hit rock bottom and find yourself with nothing it's really the only thing to do. And for a while, that had been enough. Getting through the days, figuring things out, finding his place. But he had come to eventually learn though that your place in life was what you made it. He'd been a naive and impulsive kid without a thing in the world to call his own, and he'd learned fast how the world actually worked. It had left him bitter for a good chunk of his youth- until he realized that his angst and anger was pointless. Living to survive just wasn't enough anymore, and it eventually evolved into quite the opposite: surviving to live. There was a high that came from living itself, and once you discovered it you found it wasn't so easy to quit. And Chem had found that high, that zest for life. He thrived in the unpredictable chaos that was the world around him and he felt no regrets for anything he did.
In a way it was very fitting that he had ended up in a place like the Typhoon. While the open ocean and the undersea dome still unnerved him, there was an undeniable pull he felt toward this place. From the lively crew of the clan to the tropical island and it pristine beaches with their coral reefs, there was a sense of peace and paradise in this unruly place, and it was perfect for him. He had sought a place that prized loyalty and adventure and action, for he was a social beast that enjoyed a strong sense of community. But don't think him innocent, for that would be a grave mistake. Chem was a pirate at heart, a fighter and a taker, a selfish man who put himself and his own first. He wasn't cruel but he wasn't soft at heart either, and from the scars along his coal and black spotted coat to the shark tooth necklace and the piercings in his ear, he was an omen of danger wherever he went.
Wandering the borders of the Isle was a common pass time of his, and he'd been standing guard in the branches of a nearby tree to catch some sun when he spotted the rough landing of a gray and pink cat. He would wince but let an amused smile slip onto his lips before climbing down the tree and making his way over. "You alive? Cuz if so you definitely need to work on your landing, man." He'd say as he gave the other a gentle prod in the side.
"SPEECH
Re: TAKE IT ON FAITH + JOINING - Luciferr - 06-03-2019
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#psychosocial.space
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[/td][/tr][/table]The endless Void, The gazing abyss, The bottomless ocean of horror...It coiled itself around your tender heart
"Probably had a long flight Chem, a lot of travellers usually do come from afar after all" another smooth voice intoned, great shadow falling over friend and stranger alike.
he had many worldviews - a consequence of a very long life - but he had once been subject to a doctrine by his - father- an attempt to twist his worldview and be a puppet dangling on chains (and he had barely escaped that fate - even when it became all too literal)
yes he knows such things (he wishes he didn't - but he takes heart in that his children were free to make their own choices)
much as he misses those he once lived among, he finds the typhoon an acceptable substitute - not the place per chance but the people, whom he has long since come to call his own in his own way (why else would he loom ever present behind them when ever he might? ever protective of his more fragile friends) still he eyes the stranger with mild concern, looking awful tired that he does he can't help but worry about that.
he had many worldviews - a consequence of a very long life - but he had once been subject to a doctrine by his - father- an attempt to twist his worldview and be a puppet dangling on chains (and he had barely escaped that fate - even when it became all too literal)
yes he knows such things (he wishes he didn't - but he takes heart in that his children were free to make their own choices)
much as he misses those he once lived among, he finds the typhoon an acceptable substitute - not the place per chance but the people, whom he has long since come to call his own in his own way (why else would he loom ever present behind them when ever he might? ever protective of his more fragile friends) still he eyes the stranger with mild concern, looking awful tired that he does he can't help but worry about that.
LUCIFERUS GRIMM