WHEN WE WERE LOVERS → joiner

[Grimm]

[align=center][div style="font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; width: 310px; text-align: justify; line-height:120%"]Too long his sole company forged from the delicate threads of his own machinations, loneliness grown a familiar burden, near comfortable. Yet it does not settle in such a way to permit the removal of that gap, the thinning space once beyond his reach. Such, in and of itself, a solace of a different kind, perplexing still for both carved a tender residence out of his chest. Always there, present even before he may recall what had once been, lost to time fragments he adorned in faux reconstructions.

Dour grown the gentle curl, the wear thin across lips, his mind conjuring that lost. And it was, well and truly had destruction been wrought, carved into the land as though plunder befitting such careless abandon. Down eyes travelled, light caught and splintered, silver face depicting the curve of the moon. Not the one he wanted, nor the one that hung above his head in a sky that seemed velveteen in its ebony glory, nothing but bone left to remain. Drawn out the sigh that bypassed barely parted lips, vision shifting, shame a heat building in his cheeks.

Alone had he made his decision, departed when most needed were they all, the cusp of the new year rife with hope. That had been over two years ago, if memory served him well. Rust lined that which filled his lowered eyes, gentle the lap of the ocean, a swell that arose between waterlogged planks. Had he the energy for such may amusing the notion one that had been upon rocky terms with those he once deemed his family may act as safe harbour, closest neighbour to the remains he had finally been forced to give up on. He did not, and so caged it behind exhaustion, the end of the line come all too quickly.

Here he halted, grown unsure as studied where tracks gave way to sand. Another seafaring community has sought their downfall, earned in their eyes, blood on hands that had forcefully received it. This was not them. Still his heart seized, breath held as thoughts swirled. He would not be here, taken with the rest, quiet now the voice that had once occupied his mind. Slow his next step, momentary once more his pause, adjustment allowed as toes spread and dug into the grains. Next, settling before the first, breath expelled. Once more, motion slow and halting.

Too short the journey, in comparison to that of the tracks, though ever shortened it as mind screamed for his retreat, an order he would not follow. Once enemy turned friend. Finally lips took to a smile that felt more natural, gone in moments as realisation struck. Final chance. Upward reaching, rope grasped, determined the single rough tug.

"M-my na-" broken the hushed murmur, attempting to speak aloud the information he knew would be requested, that he had spoken in a time that felt all too distant. Wince crossing dual-toned visage as his voice broke, too long unused, throat aching as he stifled a sudden coughing fit. Possibly he may be in luck and someone capable of reading his messy scrawl would appear, for now he merely waited, chin tucked to chest as once more he tried to form anything that may resemble recognisable words.

[ASVINI]

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DELDRACH AKAODON

[div style="max-width: 600px; height: 24px; background: #2F1313; padding: 5px; line-height: 15px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; color: #673F3F;"][align=center] — [b]JAGLIONESS - TYPHOON - MEMBER - TAGS —

Perhaps it was the bell that drug her from her home. The sting of Goldie's predicament had taken the woman some time to work around. A distraction proved necessary, to draw her attention away from near-and-dear problems. Had she known that was going to be the case, perhaps she might have moved from the Typhoon. She couldn't bring herself to do it- just as she had run from her problems back at her kingdom, it would only mirror itself here. Fleeing was not an option, to her, no.

So when the jaglioness heard the bell ring, Deldrach had pushed to her paws. She kept her head high as she pushed out of her hut for the first time in a long time, wincing at the light. She coughed, clearing her throat, before walking towards the tracks. The travel had taken her a few minutes, but when she arrived, her eyes caught sight of the coughing bombay on instant. A frown crossed the tall woman's muzzle at first, her ears twitching and turning- but as she had come from slumber in the jungle, she knew the feeling. Her head turned, giving him a moment, before looking back towards him.

"My name is Deldrach Akaodon, and you stand at the gates of the Typhoon. How can we help you?" She rumbled out, lifting one eyebrow as she awaited his answer. The noise in the back of her mind was concerning, but moreso was the state of the other- it seemed he had gone quite a distance from home.

[Grimm]

[align=center][div style="font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; width: 310px; text-align: justify; line-height:120%"]Running from rather than confronting an issue.

A practice he knew well, had grown accustomed to, though the root was buried in a childhood rife with turbulent times. Possibly such why he occupied a space upon that sand lined stretch before opened gates, stone adorned in both the facsimile of death and its truth, once more his back turned on the issues that plagued his existence. There was no reconciliation, apologises swallowed even as they grew leaden on his tongue, the chance taken when he had been too craven to accept the high road. Similar and yet different, had not it been a tragedy possibly amusing the notion such dark thread acted as common ground.

Even as his coughing abating still laboured each breath after, light the press of paw against throat. Time had been kind in permitting the once heavy build up of scar tissue to fade, a reminder only in discolouration, it had not seen fit to repair the internal damage, however. Noted her presence, hope quiet as it welled, dashed with the realisation that nothing resembling recognition was possible. Minimal, but appreciated, her kindness in allowing him time to recover, slight the smile he wore as she spoke.

How could they help.

Bring back all he had lost, allow him a second chance at all he had squandered because he had never realised how good it truly had been. Teeth ground into tongue, mind slow in working. Chance taken, sheepish grown his expression as Harland rose, hopeful no slight would be taken. Upon heel turning, quick and practiced the movement, sand parting about the tips of his claws. Simple the message inscribed when he stepped back, once more turning to face the other, already beginning to ponder other ways to impart the information should it become necessary. I'm Harland. I wish to join.

[VAYNE CIPHER-VANTAS.]

[glow=white,1,400]LIKE WE FORGET WHO WE CAN TRUST ! — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

Was there an issue that Vayne was trying to run away from? Not exactly, but she did an almost neverending anxiety regarding her mother. Vayne didn't like to go towards the docks on her own, not when it could be Aphra lurking around (although with the threat that Roxanne and others gave, why would Aphra use the main docks to try anything?). But this was something she had to get over eventually, right?

The sound of the bell made Vayne abandon her shell-searching, following soon after Deldrach. She tilted her head upon hearing how strained Harland's voice was, a frown on her face as she pondered as to why he sounded so hoarse and stressed. The coughing certainly didn't help matters, either. Vayne wondered how they were going to communicate with Harland barely being able to form a word, let alone a sentence, before he started to write down in the sand. Oh! Writing would make sense. Useful, given the surroundings. "You're welcome to join!" Vayne squeaked out. "My name is Vayne Cipher-Vantas."

Silence came after her words before she decided to ask, "What's wrong with your voice? Do you need some water? I can get you some."[glow=COLOR,1,400] ━ ✧*:･ﾟ[/glow]

[Simon F.M.]

｢  H U R R Y  U P !  T H E  S U N  I S  G O I N G  D O W N !  ｣

ENGAGED
POLAR BEAR
OFFICER
TYPHOON
BIOGRAPHY

Diya was happy within the Typhoon, to say the least. Despite the occasional burst of wanderlust, the rare craving to see new things, she was content. She missed her family, with all of her heart, missed her mother and her siblings. But, despite this, she had a new family. Not replacements, an extension. Adoptive, like Michael, Goldie, or Vayne. Her own biological children, and her soon-to-be wife. All the family surrounding her made it easier to cope with the hole left in her chest.

It wasn't uncommon for the bear to be seen traversing the territory, working, and planning. She'd been spending some of her time getting the forge up and running again, tainting her paws a grey with soot and ash. Occasionally it would rub off into the sand, leaving the ghost of grey paw prints in her wake. By the time the sound of the bell reached rounded ear, the trail had faded, no trace left as she moved towards the bell.

Her steps faltered, stumbling, as she laid eyes on who sat settled at the border. Her form shifted, shrinking until feline took place of ursidae. She shifted past Deldrach and Vayne, tail brushing along the younger's spine in greeting but no attention payed in specific. Light blue eyes scanned the written words for only a moment, grabbing the info needed to confirm her thoughts. She moved closer, uncaring as paws marred carefully written words. "Harland..." she said softly as if seeking one last confirmation.

The closeness gave her the confirmation she needed. Was it a hint of mountain chill that lingered in both their scent, despite long abandoning the star-founded group that once housed them, or perhaps a lingering bond that strengthened the moment they grew near? Either way, she pushed forward, a smile growing on her face as she once again murmured his name. The heavily scarred feline pressed her face against his shoulder in a joyful greeting before stepping back to give him space.

Her gaze shifted to the words she stood over, letters spotted or missing but the message still clear. A wanting to join, which had already been confirmed by Vayne. "I'm so glad you're here," she says as tears brimmed in her eyes, moving another step back to make it easier to look him in the eye. She itched to wrap paws around him, to hold him and never let him go, the urge clear in how she shifted her weight, bouncing on her paws. "Oh, Harland, I have so much to tell you!"

[roan ;]

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｢ BUT NOW THESE DAYS ARE GONE, I'M NOT SO SELF ASSURED ｣

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BIOGRAPHY —–—

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TOYHOUSE —–-—

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SOOTHSAYER –-—

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TYPHOON —–-—

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The ringing out of the bell caused Roan to lift his head, blinking sleep from his gaze. He had been napping within the temple, his nose buried against his tail as he slept off his tiredness from his usual work. Thankfully there hadn't been too many injuries as of late, but that didn't mean that the siamese didn't have plenty of things to do. Just recently he had to prepare Trevor's body for burial, layering lavender into the coyote's fur as he tried to think of where the male would be buried. Michael had requested somewhere on the beach, but Roan knew that he couldn't just be buried anywhere. After all, the beach was frequented by pretty much everyone within The Typhoon, and the soothsayer didn't want a child just stumbling across the canine's body. He had been in the middle of his pondering when he felt drowsiness tugging at him, and he had decided to take a break. He was taking them more often lately, considering his coming kits were making him more and more tired by the day. At least he had Goldie and Paintbrush around to help out when he grew too tired.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem as though he would be able to nap very long today. With a heavy sigh leaving his lungs, the medic slowly pushed himself up to his paws and departed the temple, his tail flicking behind him. He grabbed his satchel just in case, having become far too acquainted with joiners showing up at the border covered in miscellaneous injuries. Thankfully, it wasn't long before he arrived to see not only the newcomer, but a rather delighted Diya as well. He couldn't help being confused by the delighted look on her face, until he looked carefully between them. Oh. Diya did have other family, didn't she? He didn't really know much about that other family, but he had to assume that Harland was a part of it, considering how happy his step-mother seemed. Or, his soon-to-be step-mother, he supposed.

Sitting down comfortably a bit away from the embracing pair, Roan let his tail sit comfortably over his paws. He waited until Diya had finished before he spoke up, a yawn briefly stretching his jaws before he was able to talk, "Hey there... Harland? Is that what Diya called you? I'm assuming there's some kind of relationship between the two of you?" That last question was directed towards Diya, considering Harland didn't exactly seem like the talking type. Whether that was because of not speaking for a long time or having never been a big fan of speaking, Roan wasn't sure, but he wouldn't press the issue. Instead, he just shifted a little on the spot, waving over at Har before he introduced himself, "Anyways... I'm Roan Ó Foaláin-Roux, and I'm the soothsayer around here. If you need any help with any injuries you may have, feel free to come to me... oh, and Diya is my step-mom. Or... almost my step-mom, I suppose." He didn't really think it was much of a secret that Diya and Roxanne were to be married, and that was no doubt part of the news that Diya wanted to share anyways.[/td][/tr][/table]

[Grimm]

[align=center][div style="font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; width: 310px; text-align: justify; line-height:120%"]Beneath cast shade almost lost is the child, though short that interval, presence known by her own decree. A mere assemblance of soft fur at first, surprise gentle as it frames a fleeting frown, shifting until nothing of either remains. Brief her own, misguided his assignment of concern he would have dispelled given the chance. He had none, smoothed out her visage, the temporary words carved into the sand answer for a query he had carried as well.

Relieved the sigh that fell from his lips, curling again until teeth were exposed, a joy there the rest had lacked. Other methods were available though not known if such would also differ, easiest this. A squeak her affirmation, name alike, his worries quelled. Unknown either name tied to the end of her own, ghosts of a history written alongside his own that never intersected, thus untainted his thoughts towards her. Slow the manner head shifted, chin dipping. Preferred speech to properly conclude introduction, the choice was not his, however, and so this must do.

The next words she spoke, concern for him and a question he had answered many times before, gave Harland pause. He had lived with the limitation of speech for quite some time, grown accustomed even when the first days were difficult. Mouth opened, closed once more, again.

How could he explain to a child his brush with death, how the men he knew as his father and grandfather were the cause for his presence simply for staving off a premature end.

Fortune proved as kind as it was cruel, from him the rather difficult task taken. Above all towered, difficult to miss though lacking any desire for such, undisturbed his study for recognition had not yet occurred. Different for other, falter viewed with a quiet wonder, away melting, replacement difficult to ascribe a specific name to. Gradual the change, obscured before further approach was made, breath catching.

Diya.

Lips moved in familiar shape, wordless though not silent. Mirror his own upon hers, confirmation no trick was being played upon him. Suddenly she was there, proven real, too much so, heat and pressure he grew rigid against. Too short, gone before he may react. Want is there beneath his skin, to reach for her and refuse release, pushed aside for wrong the time for such. Evident her own desire, never still, a movement subtle yet visible. It is in this study finally his gaze grazes where fur parts, bare laid too much. As he had she had continued, her life never stilling even as the idea of her stayed the same, the notion one he regarded with hatred.

Not his place, far from it. Faux the smile Harland forced forth, a dull white noise grown her words. Harsh the burn, tears gathering, though for what he could only guess at and he cared little to do even that. Too much left unsaid, too little the time allowed to clear the air. Here was neither the time nor place, proven by the approach of another. Unconscious his shift, closed the space between himself and Diya, comfortable her presence even as his heart stopped for a moment, pressed down again his wish to embrace her.

Roux. Simple the prior words, a confirmation and information sought he may not provide as of yet, rigid grown his posture at the mention of the name. Of course unknown the first, alongside the secondary last name, his confusion rather evident as frown took hold. A relation of Pincher, this much he was assured of simply by the use of that particular name, though he knew not how and cared little ok putting the pieces together.

For later consideration would be such, by no means business of his though sour had grown his opinion of the family as a whole simply for the atrocities a single man deemed worthy of his time, more pressing the next statement. Sudden the shift, vision settling upon Diya as the news of their connection settled. No true secret though one Harland had not been privy to.