BOTTOM OF THE DEEP BLUE SEA | joining

[— MALKYN.]

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I AM NOT A GOOD THING
[color=white](i am barely a thing at all)

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Two years. Her breath caught in her throat, reeling from before, from Mimosa and Amren proudly announcing their parents' names. Sola and Cain.. she didn't want to be around them right now, she didn't want to go to Roseblood and run into either of them. Her next guess is to find Finn where she always found them- and where she lost them.

Two years of desperation, anxiety, fear that another pack got ahold of Finn, that another hound god got to them, or, Mythal forbid, Roy. Two years of feeling that vague tug, the vague sense of familiarity and pack tethers dulled and pulled so thin she thought she'd lost them for good. To hear their name again, in a current form, spoken with pride and an eagerness to please, rather than nostalgia, sadness, grief that she so heard from the others. It makes her heart pound, her breath stolen from thinning lungs.

Malkyn had had no way to track Finn down, unable to go far enough in the Ocean, battling tooth and claw for an upperhand on the rough seas, fighting the cold that seeped into her bones at just the slightest glimpse that they were okay. It was all she needed, the okay that they were.. healthy. It didn't matter if they wanted to stay where they were, it didn't matter if they wanted to stay with Cain or get as far from Malkyn as possible.

(She doesn't blame them, after what they'd all been through with Roy as a pack, just because they were involved with her platonicly or romantically. She partly expects someone to approach her and demand she take the Darkness from them, desperate to get away from the trauma she carries around like a target on her back.)

The Alpha just wanted to know they were okay.

The partially paralyzed hound clicks loudly as the sounds of splashing and the ocean grow louder in her ears, using both her clicking and the sound of the ocean to figure out where things were and if she was going to walk into the water or not. Malkyn feels cold water brush against her feet, the smell of salt and open air on her tongue as she turns her head to the sun and slows until she's stopped completely.

She likes to think she's back home. Not in Tanglewood, no. That's not home. But back home at the small fort, stationing herself outside the gates as a guard dog to keep herself occupied, to keep her trauma demons at bay. She likes to think she's back home before all the shit happened, the smell of the sea surrounding her, the feeling of warmth and security that used to move over her. Before everything turned to shit and the trauma took over the pleasant feelings, turned them into anger, anger, anger.

[ i said this was gonna be a shitpost but instead its angst and if that doesnt speak Volumes about me idk what does; she's a little bit from the land bridge on the mainland cause shes a blind thot ]

MALKYN RHODES — ALPHA HELLHOUND — TANGLEWOOD CHASER — TAGS

[Grey]

He's only ever lived about sixteen years, sixteen years as a human before being sent to this hellhole. Two years was a long time for him. It was more than enough time to grow powerful, more than enough time to crush his competition with an angry swipe of his paw. And yet Bakugou was taking his own sweet time, angrily marching along sand whilst he bitterly stares at the shore. The ocean, untamed like him. He briefly considers letting his paws sizzle at the tips of the water, warm the foaming edges, when he notices something that doesn't appear to be a sea-spawn. The beta hisses. A stranger, another bloody stranger thinking they could trot wherever they pleased. Pah, as if he'd just gloss over her figure and ignore her. His ears were already feeling hot, hotter than the fur on his back which was being blasted by the sun whilst his body heat rose indefinitely above the charts. Since coming to the Typhoon, simply pressing against Bakugou could probably result in an uncomfortable burn. He was no good at controlling his temper, nor was he any good at getting sensitive tasks done. He had the ability to make a situation suddenly explode, like as if his quirk lived on through the fiery touch of his tongue.

His eyes were almost ablaze, crackling like the hearth of a fire when he finally settles his gaze upon her. A hellhound. For the strangest of reasons, Bakugou was confident he could take her down if she dared to attack him. The ragdoll had an inflated sense of pride. The universe may have decided to nerf him but they couldn't nerf is unwavering, angry soul. He was burning from the inside, from his throat, from his paws. "The fuck are you doin' out 'ere?" the tabby growls, twitching an ear in vexation of the female. He looks at how she's letting the water touch her feet. He's immediately assumed she's not here to attack. Why would she, after all, trot so close to the water? But as thoughts run along his head, he's then immediately cautious again. He doesn't show it on his face but he wonders if such a creature was capable of water manipulation, a contrast to that of his fire. He surely hopes not but he'd still naively pit his chances against a possibly aggressive canine no matter how big she was.

[Beatrice]

BEATRICE

[MY BABY]

"Time heals all wounds." Wasn't that how the saying went? Beatrice tried to recount it, word for word. It was something her mother and father would whisper in the early morning hours whenever a tragedy would befall their family, their friends, their village. She had never believed the little saying, even as a child. Now that she was older, she knew that was even less true.

Time didn't heal anything. It just made one more bitter and angry and sad. It had been too many weeks and too many months to remember how long it had been since she was transformed back into an animal by Adelaide. At some point, she had just stopped counting. It didn't matter anymore anyway. Time was irrelevant in her case.

She tried to allow her mind to relax for once as she moved towards the ancient steam train. She had heard various herbs grew around the area, and she figured she should start up her Sage duties. Herb gathering appeared simple enough. Before Beatrice could even gather a single plant, clicking filled her ears. Her bluebirds sang back, responding to Malkyn's vocalizations. Confusion clouded her gaze for a split second, but once she heard Bakugou speak, she realized the hellhound must be a joiner.

Beatrice really needed to familiarize herself with who was in the Typhoon and who wasn't considering she thought Malkyn was already a resident...

The cattle dog moved to stand next to the hot-headed ragdoll, and she gave a once over to the newcomer. "I'm Beatrice." Short. Simple. Bakugou had already asked the important question.

© MADI

[ARGUS]

ʜɪᴅᴅᴇɴ sᴄʀᴏʟʟɪɴɢ

Time does not heal, time makes the pain of the wounds; the hate- the anger- the grief, bearable . only if you let it, only if you allow yourself to rage, to cry, to release it. Bottled up emotions are bound to fester, unaction will always turn quickly into action. It's... easy to let emotions get the better of them. For argus tragedy has always been at the tip of their tongue. They did not have parents to tell them wrong or right- just a clan. A bloody ruthless clan that forced them to grow- to evolve. It was there that argus found morals were optional, justice was the same thing as revenge and clans valued children but never the childishness.

For the longest time argus had lived just a step left from a monster, and felt it bubbling against their fur- bleeding into their veins with power and whispering without mercy. five years of uncontrolled hatrid, that a clan imprinted on- their little monster. Five years and still argus could feel it, the anger- the hate the loneliness etched into her skin carving it's way worse than any claw mark ever could. With time it had only made that monster closer to the surface. Made it easier to step over that line.

It was one of the reasons argus took refuge here, at first. Here they could get away with anything. With letting that monster out at night and not be penalized for it. But that was moons ago, and argus has not changed but they have eased into peace. It did not dull their claws or their relfexes just... allowed them to take a few more steps back. Made the impulses to feast- to hurt and maim quieter.

Argus did not make it much to the border; but they did fly outside it. Often enough they could be caught outside the border- and it was from a trip outside the border that the quartermaster spotted the small group. Recognizing beatrice and backugo but the hellhound was new. Was this a joining, then? It wasn't uncommon for someone to intercept joiners before they got to the border- but this was even before the land bridge. they landed nearby, wings silent but steady until they were tucked away behind them. Red eyes focused on the stranger. For the moment- they kept quiet.

I LEARNED THE VOICES DIED WITH ME

[Luciferr]

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The difference between a fall and a sacrifice is sometimes difficult,
but I feel that he understood that difference, more than anyone knew.

Time doesn't heal all wounds indeed, this he could agree with Argus on.

If that were a truth, he wouldn't still feel those echoing pangs of desperation, fury, despair and overwhelming loneliness - for what was time to him when everything passed quick as a nat's wing beat or slow as the glacial form? he had family still alive yes but there was a gaping ragged wound where once so many voices had filled it - and even then he'd still been somewhat estranged,

the lost Eldest child of a creator god, stranger even to his kin by an intermingled lineage with the thing very anathaema to them and outcast to all who were not of his once banner, those that saw only the red marred face and knew it to mean evil

no time didn't heal the wound left ragged in the metaphorical hides - but it did lessen the sting to an extent and muffled the once overwhelming feelings, or perhaps that was just something Luciferus had learned to do over lifetimes denied eternal rest - a fate set and learned.

but he shook away such morose wanderings, opting to pad silently behind Beatrice, Bakugou and his daughter in law - black scaled tail slithering in the sands behind him as he shifted on his haunches coming to a stop.

he watches the conversation quietly, merely inclining his head while they await a verdict - the way the hellhound clicks, it reminds him of his once littlest sister, Cali had been born blind after all and often the nature deity had relied upon forms of echo-location or merely feeling the world around her through her abilities.

TAGS • PLAYLIST • LARGE DRAGON • TYPHOON / CREWMATE

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© LEXASPERATED

[PINCHER]

CAPTAIN PINCHER ROUX | resides in the typhoon and is the demigod of rough seas. he is a muscular dark gray jaguar with frigid glacier blue eyes, marked with scars and glowing tattoos. he is the head of the roux family and is currently married. he is known for being a charming strategist with dark secrets. be cautious around him. —— ⚓

❝ YOU SHOULD SEE ME IN A CROWN — YOUR SILENCE IS MY FAVORITE SOUND ❞

Pincher didn't think that time did heal wounds nor did it infect them to become worse and kill the one that possesed them. He was in a mixture of that sort of perspective where he did believe that there was a sense of numbness that one eventually got used to after a while, accustomed to the pain that was hurled at them by reality's cruel tactics. It helped challenge the limits of someone, on their willingness to push through despite it all. Personally, Pincher had gotten used to the feeling of pain as if it was an old friend of him constantly returning to remind him that not everything would go his way. Despite the frustration he would feel upon realizing his plans and ideas had not gone the way he had wanted them too, it was nice to grow used to the feeling of loss and failure. It helped grow, right? Many adapted to how life rose and fell like waves on a stormy day with nothing but their survival instincts clinging to the belief that everything would get better if they just hung onto whatever they could. Despite his father's horrible ways of teaching Pincher how to grow, he was grateful for one thing. Being told to never give up. To push forward even if the tide turned against him, to find a way no matter how horrible it may seem to return to what one believed in.

When he had died, he had thought he had been a goner. Someone that wouldn't be able to see his lovely children grow up to become the beings they wished to become. Or be with the one he loved which was Jacob but Pincher knew that he wasn't in control of who lived and who died including his life. When he had been ressurected, he had believed he had been in the afterlife, shocked that he wasn't in what stereotypical appearance hell had because he knew for sure that heaven's gates wouldn't be opening for him after everything he had done. He sucked in a small breath as the thoughts of his death dwelled within his head but he gave a light shake as he arrived, his dark ears twitching as he halted beside the others before locking his piercing glacier blue colored gaze onto the female that had arrived to the entrance of the rich island. It seemed that Bakugou had already snapped out the question with his sharp tongue but Pincher knew that was just him being himself so he allowed a brief smirk to flicker on his muzzle as he gave a nod towards the female while waiting for a response.

( rushed )

❝ THE TYPHOON — CAPTAIN — IMMORTAL  — JAGUAR — FATHER — HUSBAND ❞

© LEXASPERATED