PLASTIC / introduction

[dead chars]

/ UH just pretend sig has been here this whole time? i cant think of a good joining thread so hes just. here now. and hes been here for a while. u can decide whether yr character knows him already, whether they are friends with him / enemies, etc! i dont care :- ) hes really awkward and just wants to know how the world works / how people think

Sigmund's ears twitched against the ocean's sighs. Waves breathed in and heaved out, gripping at the sand before slipping back out to sea. Glass green eyes blinked at the scene before him, rolling and relaxing, stirring the mottled fur on his neck and the long whiskers on his snout. The canine had often wondered what forces moved the tides the way they moved. Was it the wind? Was it gravity? Was it some sort of craft from a being above? He wasn't quite sure. But of course, that was alright- after all, he was young. He had a lot to learn, and a lot of people to learn it from.

The waves' song soothed his thoughts. Sigmund continued staring off into the beach, ears twitching contentedly.

"SPEECH"

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storage

[Grey]

When it comes to Bakugou, The Typhoon was split into two halves. There were the ones that stood out, that frequently grasped his attention and were therefore the ones of which he could name and recognise within his daily routine. On the other side of the spectrum, there were the ones he called extras - the lowlifes of the group, the bulk whose faces became part of a blurred mesh, filling in the backdrop with their murmurs and fulfilling a single purpose of making The Typhoon looked busy. This stranger, this unnamed stranger, was one of those extras to Bakugou. Of course, he pays little mind to him as the Reaver continues to haul a rather large rock across the beach with a sled-like structure. It was big enough that the ragdoll could pull it but it was tiresome considering the distance he had traveled to find the perfect rock to forge with. Of course, the big shame in this was that he didn't have earth elementals (or at least that's what he thought - not realising that part of the reason he's able to move it with his size was because of it helping him).

He isn't exactly averted to ask the unknown pirate to help him either. Although he's never liked to be assisted with task, preferring to go about his business in his own way and individually, he's acknowledged his limitations. He's a feline, a rather large domestic feline but not as big and strong as the rest of The Typhoon. Blacksmithing contributed a lot to his muscular build but he is also lean and agile from battle and would rather let his body stay this way. It only meant that frequently carrying heavy weights would begin to burden him and he would rather not be sore before he even started smithing. For that reason, his eyes lock onto the first Typhooner he sees: a canine. Now that he looked at the other male properly, Bakugou begun to notice that he was much younger than he had originally thought. He's not close enough to the other to properly decipher the other's age either. Probably around his age, maybe younger or older? It's too hard to tell how old animals are.

"Yo, extra," Bakugou yells in the wolf's direction, waving his fire-coated tail that was smoking behind him. To anyone, it would look like his ass was on fire but sooner or later others would begin to realise it was just how he looked - like an idiot with his ass on fire. The ragdoll's sanguine eyes quickly skim across the male's features, noting the muscles which lined the other's bones and shape. Then, so not to continue wastefully shouting, he begins to walk closer to the socially inept stranger before adding: "Stop starin' at the ocean and pull this rock to my hut. The ocean ain't goin' nowhere." Promptly, the creamfurred Reaver points towards his hut nearby the beach before looking back at the other, tapping his paw impatiently. Bakugou doesn't really like to wait, nor has he ever formed any manners. He's not used to asking others for help, instead turning his words into demands and expectations for others to complete. "And you can thank me later for lettin' you not look like a useless husk on the beach."

[no more]

[align=center][div style="width:450px; font-size:7.9pt;line-height:1.2;font-family:arial;margin-top:3px;margin-bottom:3px;letter-spacing:.5px;margin-left:0px;text-align:justify;"]There is only silence, or might there have been within moments of quiet, the turbulence of the world softened until is left. Rather it is static, the crackle and pop of something broken, snow cascading about a mind grasping for what it might never graze across, always seeking for what seems missing. Beneath it they hear it, thrum of heart caught in the cage of ribs, constant beat they walk within time to. It is their anchor now, breath raising from lips, cracked and bloodied where teeth have found their place, as slow beat works through hollow chest.

Passive observer is all they are, a boy once deemed another, carrying an identity that felt like ash upon unwilling tongue, freed when another arose yet now. What was the boy tied to the name of Sil, this creature of the present with no past experiences to push them forth, hinting at events playing before them, steady as the heartbeat they count within still mind, the only thing left to them now.

“It might be better to ask one more suited to lifting heavy weight,” quiet voice, raising from lips that bare a slight quirk, tongue pressing against teeth once they close. Taunt features, single dark eye left to them flicking between both present, shuffling step drawing them ever closer. The boulder indeed is one large, beyond the stature they bore, given to a height and weight frightfully below what one might expect and when standing by both they seem more so, the fluff of their dark coat all that makes them seem larger.

A beat, moment as mind seeks the correct words, before teeth part once more. “Why do you need the boulder?” More is there, lingering within soft breath and shift of eye, finding the mottled body of one unfamiliar, glimpsed in moments when they had passed the canine. Strange is it, holding unnatural mix that leaves him an oddity within their mind, though there is nought beyond basic interest, waning as the seconds pass, left with no ground and thus no need for further questioning.

[purgatory]

[align=center][div style="width:55%;font-family:arial;font-size:11.5px;text-align:justify;line-height:120%;text-transform:lowercase;word-spacing:-0.5px;color:#5c5c5c"]Cronas was in no hurry to make their presence known once more within the clan they call home. Was it alright to call it home now? They've been here a while now but they don't hold any solid ties to the place. The Typhoon was all they've ever known despite not being born here. Their origin story was a mystery to them as well but it wasn't as though it was something they thought about a lot. So what if they didn't know where they came from? Were they suppose to need parents to look after them or were they optional? A trivial question considering they've been getting by just fine without any older influences. They had connections to the Roux family but by a means of adoption and even then they were unclear as to where they stood. Again, it mattered little. They didn't have a preference when it came to living by themselves or with another; others - plural - in this case. On few occasions did it cross their mind that they needed something called a 'family' or 'friends' to be whole. All they saw was if someone was useful. If an individual possessed enough knowledge and if they're willing to share their knowledge with them. Not without a deal, of course. A favour, a barter system has been established by the child. Knowledge is power and not many are willing to share what they know if it means no longer having an advantage. A simple problem with a just as simple answer. Cronas didn't mind completing tasks or small deeds for another if it meant being taught something they don't know. Doing simple - or challenging - jobs would be worth it in the long-run. Of course, the individual can offer their knowledge for free but who would ever do something because they want to? Surely there's some sort of motive behind it.

Their lithe, almost delicate form could be seen walking - never running - to their most frequented site in the territory: the beach. The vast blue waters... The way the sky met the ocean... The light that glistened on the surface... Everything about the ocean was pleasant. It wasn't their favourite location as Cronas favoured nothing in this world, aside from learning new things. But it did spark a positive feeling inside of them they couldn't explain. It was the same with most blue things. Maybe they do have favourite things after all? As small paws touched the sand, large grey ears twitched when they heard the sound of voices not too far off. Head tilting in mild curiosity, the feline made their way over to the three creatures. Pale blue eyes looked from one face to another, void of any and all emotion as per usual. Remembering their manners, they dipped their head politely in a silent greeting before continuing to silently observe the situation.
[div style="width:55%;font-family:verdana;font-size:8.5pt;text-align:justify;line-height:140%;text-transform:lowercase;word-spacing:-0.5px;letter-spacing:-0.5px;margin-left:50px;margin-top:8px"]— sincerely, inadvertent ignorance ･ﾟ✧*

[PINCHER]

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

❝ A MODERN GOD IN A TAILORED SUIT — WHO'S LIPS TASTE LIKE FORBIDDEN FRUIT ❞

Pincher had an obsession with work. He desired to always be on the move with the flow of life especially with him coming from a family built on hard work and tired shoulders. Both of his parents had been leaders, considered "king" and "queen" in the eyes of their followers but the young child only saw them as parents. Broken parents but parents nonetheless. He always saw them running about, barking out orders or guiding others with their knowledge and wisdom that expanded the limited mind of their son. Unlike his prodigy like parents, Pincher was rather slow in learning and simply took it as leisure, his mind always drifting away when his parents tried to teach him the values and importance of leadership. He remember the flashes of disappointed eyes and the frowning sighs when any of them caught him reading books of explorations and adventure, specifically books that held illustrated maps that he always ravaged about. Was it bad that the wildcat missed those times? Even if his parents may not held much pride for them, at least they had tried to focus on him before they gave up and treated him like nothing more than a face among a sea of faces.

After being ignored, something clicked inside him. The need to show himself out, to be a sore thumb that one could spot from miles away. So, he gave up on his dreams and aspirations and focused on being taught how to be the image of perfection in the eyes of his parents. Now passing through his brutal training and lessons, here he was. A leader. A captain. The highest ranking and it made him think...were they proud? He knew his father in hell would probably not be satisfied, probably grumbling about how he had not taken over some other group or created a massive war against his enemies. His mother...he didn't know. He didn't have many memories to predict her reaction so for now, he just hoped she held somewhat of a shred of pride. Pincher's thoughts clung to this hope and dread as he tugged at the heavy net out of the sea, his entire body drenched with the rich sea salt and foam that glistened in the warm sunlight. His ice blue gaze flickered towards the small grouping of crewmates and he wondered what they were up to. Dragging the net full of writhing fish into a nearby fishboat, he headed over with his long tail twitching with curiosity.

"The boulder is for blacksmithing. Making weapons most likely." Pincher answered with a cool tone, the towering panthera hybrid halting beside Cronas and Sil, glancing down at his son. He noticed that Cronas was around more and he wondered why the child was so quiet especially when they tended to be very questioning of any situation. Perhaps he could ask later but privately. His attention then drifted to Bakugou, a soft snort escaping his jaws as the immortal stated "Maybe if you ask a little nicer, he might help." Humor always found its way to the older male when he watched the stubborn fiery-tongued Reaver always appear frustrated in seeing other relaxing. He could somewhat understand but the gray male tended to be more mellow about it.

❝ THE TYPHOON — CAPTAIN — IMMORTAL — DEMIGOD — FATHER — THE HERMIT ❞

© LEXASPERATED

[darci]

[div style="margin: 0 auto; width: 60%; font-family: georgia; font-size: 12pt; text-align: justify;"]The Siberian husky loved the sound of the waves and the taste of the salty sea air. To him, it brought a sense of peace and security. Even so, the canine doubted the spirit of the sea would rise to defend him in the heat of battle. In fact, Victor was most likely to be found near the water, usually making friends with crabs, fighting with the seagulls, or simply going for a refreshing dip. In the act of doing one of these events, there was always bound to be some side action not far away. Today seemed like one of those days. Having been working on regaining muscle mass in his injured leg, the cream-silver and ivory male spotted the growing group. He also could hear Bakugou snapping at someone, which brought a smirk to his muzzle. Victor always found the other male's temperament to be rather amusing.

Hauling himself out of the clutches of the water, he made his way over. "It surly looks heavy for just one dog to carry it. I'd be happy to help." It was best to redirect the slight negativity in the air. That was, after all, his self-proclaimed job. Putting on a fake happy act help hide the demons that tormented him.