BROKEN PARTS // JOINING?

[MARAUDER]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]There were plenty of sick fucks on this earth who thought they could beat whoever they wanted and get away with it. Sometimes they were right, because the people around them were content to turn a blind eye, or didn't give a shit about the children's sunken eyes and bruised bodies. He knew. Marauder had been there, once upon a time, a bloodied kid abandoned to the kinds of people he put his claws to now. Their mistake. They couldn't put him permanently in the ground, but they made him plenty fucking good at sending their kind six feet under indefinitely. Metaphorically. Marauder never buried them- if their carcasses could feed somebody, they were worth more than they'd been alive, so, with all that considered, the tiger had a particular vendetta against the ones who laid a hand on kids, on the innocent.

This bastard had left broken bones and impossibly young, terrified faces in his wake.

No more.

His prey stumbled through the dark forest, his fear stirring satisfaction deep in Marauder's belly as he stalked after him, slipping easily through the shadows. He wasn't a small guy, this scumbag; he was a fairly large wolf, size daunting enough that the people he hurt hadn't felt they could do anything about it. But Marauder was bigger, and even if he weren't, it just gave him easier access to his throat.

Said neck bobbed underneath his talons, the process of tackling him child's play. Of course, it'd helped that Marauder wounded him earlier, his leg a mess that prevented him from running. And now- now he would know their terror, how it felt for his life to be out of his reach. His fate was entirely Marauder's business, and he reveled in the broadness of his pupils, in the quivering he could feel. "Who the fuck are you?" He demanded, voice shrill, and he flinched when Marauder lowered his head to his, nose to nose, silent for a heavy moment.

"I'm the goddamn garbageman." Blood welled beneath his claws in a gurgle, and he remained close, only stepping away once he'd watched the life abandon his eyes. Exhaling, he took a good look at his surroundings; he'd recognized it as some group's territory earlier, but hadn't given a shit when there was business to attend to. He figured the blood would attract somebody- he had a habit of introducing himself via murder, although he hadn't bothered to get this close to a clan in a while. Too...populated. Too people-y.

[sephiroth]

SEPHIROTH

MALE — ROSEBLOODS — MEMBER — HOVER FOR TAGS

[div style="background-color: #292727; color: white; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; overflow: auto; width: 500px; height: 340px; padding: 10px;"]The metallic scent of blood is what the Roseblood member first noticed out of order.  The big cat would approach out of the trees and mist, his sharp slit pupil eyes set on the tiger.  Sephiroth’s eyes briefly shifted to corpse on the ground, still warm and seemingly the source of the stench he’d caught onto too.  It wasn’t exactly different then the smell of rot and decay in the Roseblood territory, but still; did one have to be so messy when it came to kills?  The silver maned lion’s nostrils would flare slightly before he looked back to Marauder.

Hm.  Another large cat.  Somebody he could stand on equal footing with.  ”Is there a reason you have for dirtying the border?”  Sephiroth would comment, a pale ear twitching as he questioned the tiger’s motives.  ”The territory smells terribly enough already, so at the very least try and clean up after yourself once we’re finished here.”

#psychosocial.

[rhosmari]

[align=center][div style="0px; width:450px; height:auto; text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt; line-height:13px; color:black;"]"Perhaps more than just the border." Came another voice that lingered in the mist laden air. Her orange red eyes gleamed through the fog as she looked down from her perch in the branches of the trees. Her thick tail hung down and her head was slightly tilted as she looked down upon the tiger that had managed to kill his quarry. It had been fascinating to watch actually, the hunt as it reached it's end. The end result would always the be the same and the idea, rather it was vengeance or justice held the same echoing not. Death. Her ear twitched as she rose from her hindquarters, coiling back muscles before she jumped and landed on the ground soundlessly. With a casual dip of her head the woman would allow her form to travel closer to the corpse and closer to the tiger. But she was calm and relaxed as she lifted a paw to prod at the body gently. After all the main question had already been asked and she saw no reason to speak up once again. Not till after it was answered and then she would give out her own name and if he chose to join their home he would lead him to their camping grounds.

[rushy]

[align=center][div style="width: 51%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 0px; font-family: verdana;"]Everyone was bigger than Lydia these days. It seemed like a staple of combat- and if you were The Rosebloods, every day- now. It had freaked the tiny red tabby at first, but after awhile, she'd grown a sort of fondness for her size comparison to her fellow group members. It was pleasant to be small sometimes. So, while she might've been uncomfortable with another sizable stranger before, she practically skipped over to say hello now.

Although, this one seemed to be more unpleasant than the others. Lydia's face fell slightly as she took in the scene before her... But did this dude just call himself the garbageman? The tabby had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. "The territory already smells rank from rotting corpses," she tacked on as she watched the tiger's prey drain of blood through lackluster eyes "Maybe if you didn't make such a mess I could show you a few things about cover-ups and clean-ups."