DON'T GET HURT AGAIN | o, prompt

[FELIKS]

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/ while taking a stroll throughout the typhoon's jungle, the ghosts decide to play tricks on him that he finds himself getting tangled in a series of knotted vines. considering he doesn't like restraints, how does he react and how does he get out of this situation when so little typhooners explore that area?

Highs and lows were common within the male's moods. Some days he was like an immortal God, other days he felt worthless, and with no logical explanation behind the changes, Feliks had found himself in a slump for most of the week. Feathers and fur were untidier than ever, a torso already slim from undernourishment thinning out just that little bit more from personal neglect. Loki had been bringing him scraps here and there, the gryphon fasting off of them specks of meat and bone with all of the energy of a sloth. One day, enough had been enough and he'd pushed himself out into the outdoor world... that was when things had started to go south for the Striker. His crow off on some mystical adventure out over yonder, the hybrid had retreated into the jungle.

He should've known something was wrong the moment he heard a voice in his head. [i]Useless... you can't get anything right... die...[/i] Feliks was no stranger to debilitating thoughts, the scar on his face spoke enough words on that subject, yet the ones shared just were ones he'd ever said to himself. Tension build up in his legs and toes, fatal talons sinking into the damp soil as he dragged his feet along the ground. Something cold brushed up against him, the gryphon whipping his head around to give the bastard who was invading his personal space a piece of his mind. Nothing. "Fucking damn it!" he cursed to the heavens, kicking up mud in a brief rage. Feliks charged towards a tree, leaning against it as he tried to gather his bearings.

Far from a king, far from a God, he could feel his temper heating up again as he told himself to get his shit together. A haughty sigh escaped from a parted beak, a strange sensation tickling at his muscles when he closed his eyes for a split second. He tried to move to rid the tight feeling in them, yet that cold feeling returned to him. Panic instantly settled within him as he found himself trapped, not even looking for a source of his inability to move before he felt his heart flutter. His emerald gaze shot down. Vines were everywhere, clinging him to the tree, a shaken breath escaping the pirate. Whoever responsible seemed to be amused at least, judging by the whispering laughter he heard rattling through the flora.

A ghost? Feliks had dealt with the supernatural before, he cared not the form of whom was responsible, only that they suffered for their insolence. But... such wrath was hard to back up when his whole body was rattled with anxiety. He opened his mouth to curse, to ask for help, but nothing came out, the male tongue tied for once. You idiot, you let your guard down! His own voice talked down to him now, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. Had the vines not been holding him up, the male would've collapsed to the ground by now. A confused caw erupted from the canopy, and whilst the owner may not have revealed it's form, the gryphon recognised it from anywhere. "Cry louder damn it!" he called up to his companion, desperation driving his voice onward.

As if understanding the horrified voice, Loki suddenly began cawing louder and louder for attention, hoping to attract the attention of any passing Typhooners. It was embarrassing to rely on others for help, but what other choice did the male have? He was powerless otherwise... the thought caused him to swallow a lump in his throat.

[PEPPINO]

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Pip didn't much like relying on other people either, though it wasn't so obvious. He was polite enough in gentle refusals that it probably didn't seem notable, which he preferred. If they believed he didn't need help rather than that he didn't want help, it helped clear a bit of that issue. As a child, he knew he would inevitably need assistance, but he'd taught himself plenty already, simply through reading whatever was available to him. He hadn't needed help for that, and he was thankful no one appeared to be treating him like he was incompetent or incapable of handling himself. It wasn't that he didn't trust other people, because he knew no one here wished him harm, but he recognized that becoming dependent was...debilitating, especially when the field he wanted to pursue did not leave much room for second-guessing or searching for everyone else's opinions before proceeding.

However, as aforementioned, he knew he'd need help eventually. Everyone did, and truth be told, he thought nothing degrading when he followed Loki's cries to find Feliks entangled in vines, merely that it would be prudent to free him as soon as possible. "Mr. Feliks! Don't worry, you'll be free soon." The young canine trotted forward, leaning up to try and inspect the thick tendrils. "How is your circulation? Are you feeling any numbness?" Pip nipped at one of the vines, careful. "Otherwise, where is it straining the most?"
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[Grey]

High and low. Yeah, that'd be right. He too had his fair share of them, but it was likely because he was still an adolescent and hormonal kid. Although now sporting the age of twelve months, considered an adult in the terms of a feline, he was swarming with all kinds of emotions he didn't know how to interpret. Maybe he would be better off if he did what anyone else with some sense did: talk about it. But he feels like he's gone too far down the rabbit hole. Anything he says now in need of sentiment and sympathy would probably be brushed away. Sometimes there were grudges that would never leave, he's always understood that. Bakugou was never the type to receive redemption. The universe has deemed him to be unpleasant, unwanted, disliked. The only reason he stuck around, his only value, was what he could do and the fact that he was yet another extra walking around. The ragdoll bites the bottom of his lips, stifling the thoughts that were swimming so naturally in his mind. This was why he needed to reach the top, needed to prove himself as more than what destiny had given him. But now he isn't even sure what destiny has in store for him.

Something bad, maybe.

Usually, the Reaver was pretty good at looking where he was going. He had a good sense of direction because of all those years he spent being independent, letting himself learn and understand his surroundings quick enough for him to focus on adapting to his environment. He was so good at analysing anything but himself. As of late, he hasn't been looking where he was going at all. He's returned to walking aimlessly, letting his own walk calm himself down. The more he continues to expend his physical energy, take in the smell of unpolluted air, the more he will probably be able to forget the uncomfortable churn of emotions within him. Stupid, foolish Bakugou. He never knew what was good for him. If someone were to so much as ambush him, he would be vulnerable to their weaponised grasp. He was tuning everything out that chitters sounded like leaves, screams and panic sounded like the sea. Sounds just blurred and mesh, conjoining into one tone. White noise was filling his ear canals, only furthering the thoughts in his mind. What he thought was calmness was, in fact, a numbness - a detachment from the situation he didn't like to think about. He's caused too much trouble. He was an inconvenience.

It was during the time that he was walking that he stepped on something sharp, neurons immediately inviting pain towards his system that he jerked upwards, tail straightened. He curses at himself, looking at the spot he had been pierced and was now bleeding from. It wasn't bad enough to require the soothsayer's attention but it sure as hell stung, drawing his attention back to reality that he finally managed to hear the caws. This whole time his mind had been drowning out the sound, unaware that someone may have been in danger. He moves, limping a little at first because he didn't like the idea that his skin was open and he was stepping on twigs but soon the sensation of dirt on his wounds had left him. Moss began to form over it, a side-effect of his elementals keeping the small wound sealed. He could rush over properly without looking like an idiot, arriving at the scene to see Peppino already there. He blinks, quietly observing the mess that the griffon had found himself in. He was entangled in vines, tangled in a way that would have required conscious effort. He doubts the male would have chosen to sleep here, flicking an ear as he tries to understand the situation but Pip's voice was continuing to snag his attention.

That kid was something else. He knew his stuff well and Bakugou wasn't going to question the words that were leaving the child's mouth, instead choosing to focus on something else. "Do ya want me to burn the vines? It might burn you in the process though." For some reason he didn't think of his own earth elementals. It was a power he was only just learning and trying to master. He only knew how to use it with rocks and sand, not living vegetation just yet, so it didn't cross his mind. Fire had always been his default ability but since burning Masie, he realises he's more of a danger than he initially thought. He needs to be more cautious. [b]"How'd this even happen?"

[Luciferr]

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L U C I F E R . G R I M M

"The endless Void, The gazing abyss, The bottomless ocean of horror...It coiled itself around your tender heart"

Lucifer doesn't speak like the others are and instead moves straight into the vines and begins cutting with his formidable claws, if it comes to it and these vines are controlled - or sentient, he's had to deal with those kind before, irritating things - he'll simply apply heat and burn the wretched things away - its good he has fine control then lest he accidentally hurt Feliks.

he attempts to cut away the ones near his throat first - he wouldn't leave the poor gryphon to choke after all.

/short af oof.

DRAGON [10FT Hght, 25FT Lgth] — HELLION [5FT] — TYPHOON / OFFICER — PLAYLIST — TAGS

© LEXASPERATED

[Masie]

She didn't want to be near Baku, he was the bane of her existence right now, since no one had yet proved to her that he had not been trying to kill her. Luckily, she had already learned about not trying to kill things that bore the same scent as the pack's territory, leading her to fight the instinct to shut him up forever. Above even the fear or instinct of a wild animal? Was the instinct of a creature meant to live in some sort of group, the pack instinct, ancient and shockingly unchanged through time unlike vocal cords and language. Masie had empathy the same as them, Feliks was more important than her detest for Baku, so she came when she heard his little thing cawing up a storm. Any opportunistic hunter would have went to take advantage of the prone male, but she knew far better already, knew enough to even attempt to secure a healer when the situation called for it. Of course, she had to scent him first, the bird had just made her curoius.

She would come from the undergrowth, skidding to a stop next to Luci before venturing to hook one claw to the vines. Prior to any attempts she would make to free him alongside the others? Masie always had to figure out what she was dealing with and it seemed to be a plant this time, leading her to lean in with her jaws for another, and try to hook the claws of her other hand to them as well. If the small raptor was suscessful and no one stopped her? She would be able to rip several at once. It may also be shocking that she could use her muzzle without digging into Feliks with it, especially since binded like that he would be a perfect meal, not that she thought he was for a single second. Baku didn't need to harm this one, Luci would keep this one safe, with the big dragon around the mean cat wouldn't hurt anyone else. Right?

[beck.]

    Damnation to the eternal afterlife was boring. That much Beck could preach with confidence. Everything else about his and other lowly spirits' existence? Unexplainable. Stories could be passed from mouth to mouth to try and give context to hauntings, investigators and researchers chalk-full of dramatized theories could try to interrogate the entities on the wrong side of the veil, books and movies could be written or filmed. But there was no string of words that could explain the supernatural for certain. Beck was an oddity compared to his fellow ghosts, as the lingering dead were dubbed so long ago. Too much energy. Too violent. Other spirits feared his presence,  knowing full well that the notorious poltergeist would attack without hesitation when it came to defending his haunting territory. Rumors, so many rumors. Not that he minded. All the better to keep those ghastly leeches away.

    Fortunately not a single phantom had dared to approach him yet; however, the peace would only last a while longer before Beck taught them whose domain they were trespassing on. He could still sense their whereabouts nearby, constantly threatening to sap away at his being. He hated it, needless to say. Not that he enjoyed being dead in every way imaginable besides buried and at peace, but other ghosts around kind of stole his limelight as walking-talking proof of the supernatural -- or he believed, at least. He also hated the horrid cawing sounding from not too far off. If only he still wore shoes, then he would promptly throw one at the raven as he drew nearer to the source, a scowl plain on his grimy features. When his glassy eyes fell upon the entangled griffin, his face contorted into one of amusement as he struggled to hold in laughter and mere seconds after, the little ghost collapsed into a bought of wheezing and giggling, the thin cacophony piercing to anyone's eardrums. After snickering for quite sometime as others arrived and assisted, he composed himself and letting out a few unintentional "pfts", he fished around inside his apparition for a moment, rasping out to Feliks from the unscathed side of his mouth, "Ya mi-ind if I help too? Ya look a l'il tied up th-here, prieten". Retrieving the first knife he brushed against the blade of and shaking off the residual ectoplasm, Beck clambered onto one of Luciferus' spiked legs, scaling the mountain of a beast without any prior hesitance before leaning out where the vines connected to a branch. After growling up at the weaker spirit that was otherwise unseen to the mortals surrounding him, he refocused and began to saw away at the main vine's fleshy surface. Once the green tendril was close to cut halfway through, Beck pulled the vine closer and attempted to nip straight through it, allowing it to hopefully loosen its and the other connecting vines' taut grip on Feliks.

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[FELIKS]

[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width: 60%; font-family: georgial; font-size: 11pt;"]With how much his mind and heart begged for death instead of being trapped, the heat rising underneath his golden feathers as others approached was a surprise even to the male who knew his body so well. Was there really time for his brain to fluster like that? He wanted out. Now. Outer expressions of a petrified soul turned sour and bitter, as if tying to protect himself from the laughter of others. Those who approached first didn't outwardly snicker, but he swore that some must've been amused by the sorry sight. There were always those around who'd prey on the weak, even in a clan he praised, if such monsters existed here they weren't so open about their exploits. Words brought him back to reality, and back to the self-defence mechanism of acting bitter.

"J-Just get them off me, we can talk later," he spoke down to Pep, not wishing to expose further weaknesses whilst the crowd was forming. His hind leg wasn't appreciating the pressure, neither were his wings, but breaking them was the least of his concerns so long as he could be free of this. Actual, whispered snickering brought his glare from the ground, looking around for the source but only finding Bakagou, who certainly wasn't the culprit. Fuck, the sooner he got out of this, the better. "Stop asking questions!" he snapped, eyes wide. "I'll talk later, do what you need, d-don't care for burns,". Feliks hoped those responsible got a laugh out of this before he sent them into a more permanent afterlife. His tail lashed, the shaking of petrified limbs more obvious as more came to contribute to his freedom.

Forcefully the gryphon closed his eyes as Lucifer was next to approach, half-expecting the giant's teeth to sink around his neck and rid the Striker of more than just this burden. He didn't know why he thought such things, he liked the other... fear just distorted one's outlook. The relief of tension around his neck caused a sigh to escape him, so exasperated he sounded like he just finished a marathon. You're safe, you're safe, it's ok. Being his own councilor wasn't ideal, but with all the questions headed his way, it seemed there was no time for others to calm him down. Or there was no true care. Shaking his head now that he could move it, a green eye tentatively opened again to stare at Maisie, claws noticeably sinking further into the earth. Even a creature that'd grow up to be so dangerous was assisting... how humiliating.

Finally another snicker entered his ears, but by the time he figured out the source it'd grown into full blown laughter. A clear albeit hypocritical disdain for Beck appeared in that moment. If anyone else had been pranked by the other ghosts, Feliks would've had a similar reaction, it wasn't nice to have his biggest fears exploited by them though. "Help," he commanded, hoarse voice close to cracking despite the permanent vocal chord damages he suffered. "Laugh again and you're gonna wish whatever killed you had sent you to hell instead," he warned. With all the Typhoon's efforts, there weren't many vines left. It was Feliks' cue to take control of his own body and finish off the job. The Striker pushed forwards with his shoulders, extended his wings despite the vice grip over them as the last remaining vines snapped and broke.

It was only then he collapsed, scrambling in a crawl away from the tree that kept him captive, the male would lie himself down away from the plethora of pirates that'd gathered. With a poor diet the past week, it'd taken a lot of exertion to take independence. Knee looking more red over the scarring tissue than normal, the odd speck of blood appearing where thorns had pricked his skin, Feliks seemed immune to such ailments. He was off staring into the abyss, going over the questions that everyone had asked him, seeing if he could remember or even hear  them past the blood roaring within his ear holes. "Ghosts. Didn't... Didn't like me," he took several breaths.