Heavier - November 17th meeting

[Morgan]

For once, Morgan found himself feeling a bit tired. Not bored, not sleepy, but tired. It had been quite a while since there was so much to do in Tanglewood, yet things seemed to be unfolding before him at a quick rate. He found it hard to climb onto the statue, and he found it harder to raise his voice for everyone to hear. Things just felt... sad.

"I hope everyone's ready for this week's meeting. It seems like it's not been too long since the last one, but here we are again... I'll start by naming and welcoming all our newcomers like I usually do. Ignis, Jethro, Jim, and Kliment - I welcome you all to Tanglewood. I'm sorry things are difficult right now, but I'm sure things will... get better soon enough..."

He sighed, then added,

"I've noticed young Beleth was out and about this week, so I'd like to welcome him in a small way as well."

"Next is promotions and demotions. I've got one promotion this week: Beck is now going to be a Chaser."

Morgan paused for a good five seconds, lost in thought.

"That was very weird to say. Anyway, I also have a few shout-outs: a set for the usual suspects, Leroy and Vigenere; one for Kiira, who seems to be much more active recently; and a set for some of the promising newcomers, Lancer and Kris. I've also got one badge to give this week: a Gatorbait badge for Axle. Thank you for being here and for being so loyal, friend."

He put on his best smile as he spoke about his comrades' achievements and floated the skull-shaped badge toward its recipient; however, his expression did not last long before it returned to something of a frown.

"We... we lost two of our own this week. Whisper, a recently-returned Tangler who some of you may or may not know, and Delilah - the only member of the Tanglewood Medical Team."

The General paused again, finding it difficult to say what he had to say next.

"We'll be holding a funeral for them this week in the new mausoleum. Please, please go if you can. They were family to us."

He neglected to mention where the perpetrators were from; the fewer Tanglers who knew, the better it was for the time being. There was little need to stir up bad blood with another group when they literally just lost their only medic.

"I won't be holding Medic tryouts since I only know the very basics; if any of you want to become the next generation of Medics, please let me know privately. I'll figure something out by the time we have the next meeting."

After taking another long pause to clear his head, the samoyed said,

"The hunt for gators continues; I'll be setting up another hunt pretty soon, so look out for that. Otherwise, that's all I've got for this week. I guess if anyone has some ideas for new badges, let me know privately so I can get to work making them. It's weirdly exciting to give those things out, but with only eight of them I don't usually get the chance."

He tried to smile again, but his face only wound up reaching a neutral appearance.

"That's it, then. Stay safe, my friends."

TL;DR

• Welcome Ignis, Jethro, Jim, and Kliment (and Beleth)!
  
• Beck is now a Chaser!
  
• Shout-outs to Kira, Kris, Lancer, Leroy, and Vigenere!
  
• Axle receives the Gatorbait badge!
  
• Whisper and Delilah were both killed. A funeral will be held for them this week.
  
• Medic tryouts won't be held at all. Just let me know either via PMs here or via Discord if you want your character to become a Medic, and we can work out a quick path to get them on the Medical Team.
  
• Reminder that the hunting event thread still exists. Another will be made soonish, but probably not this week since the first one still needs to move further along.
  
• Let me know via PMs or via Discord if you've got some cool badge ideas! I might just put them in so we can have more little achievements for our various characters.

[arcy]

[div style="margin: 0 auto; width: 65%; font-family: timesnewroman; font-size: 10pt; text-align: justify;"]Apparently, meetings were a thing. Like, weekly meetings. Which strikes Jim as a little strange. As captain, he hadn't done meetings more than he had to. It was just too much effort. .. But, judging by how much the guy was talking, this was probably a good thing. It seems like it'd keep things organized and keep newcomers up to date. Pretty cool, if Jim said so himself, if a little boring for him to listen to. He never liked listen to other people go on long tangents.
Jim still hadn't invested himself in Tanglewood culture, though. He just wasn't the type to really care, except he should because he lives here now. He doesn't know the rankings, though they're understandable, at least. Seriously though, why the hell was the badge called Gatorbait? Should Jim be concerned?  Maybe not, but he is a little concerned about the actual deaths. What'd happened? He'd push for answers, but Jim doesn't think it's his place. He never knew them, and the only way it really affects Jim is that the medic was dead. Which sucks.
"Aye," Jim murmurs under his breath towards the end of the announcements, tail swishing. None of it really applies to him, but that's okay. It takes time to get involved in stuff. ... Well, it did for most people, most of the time. Not everyone got promoted to First Officer right away immediately.

[glow=black,2,300]— ✰ —[/glow]

[beck.]

    "Fuckin' meetings." His grumble was low enough to be considered as the typical string of rambling nonsense often wheezed by the poltergeist when ensnared in one of his trances. As much as Beck wished he could escape to his fantasy land of hallucinating insects and impending demises if it meant he could avoid the meeting like last time, hazy premonition dragged him to the outskirts of the crowd. From what he could gather, all these clans held the same boring discussion each week. Blegh. Slouched aside the stumpy remnants of a tree, the little feline glared onwards with a cold film settled over amber eyes, nose twitching every so often to identify individual scents. To think he used to be up there where the samoyed lectured -- he didn't believe one bit of what unfamiliar peers told him. Mostly out of stubbornness. Blowing a puff of waterlogged air up at the cowlicks commonly dangling in front of his brow, he sunk deeper into his treeside slump with a shoulder tic and folded bandaged paws over his chest as he pretended to listen.

    Mention of his name seized his attention back to the front of the crowd where Morgan perched, confusion momentarily knitting his scarred features as he tried to process what had been said. He was supposed to be a... chaser? The rank vaguely rang a bell in his brain, but he remained frozen for a good minute after the announcement, trying to discern what he had done to deserve being called out in public. "That's a good thi-ing, right?" Beck timidly rasped at no one before forcing a trembling grin and a muffled statement of gratitude. Nothing else in the meeting bothered him too much after, although the news of the reaper recently visiting the small community was interesting. However, the plea for replacement medics summoned an insane possibility to his thoughts once more. He tried once to no avail before returning to his clan, but the opportunity was suspended in the air like a bone on a stick with little competition. Biting on a lip stained by chemicals, Beck turned his gaze to the grassy mud, mulling over the decision. How hard could being a medic be anyways? Maybe after the meeting closed, he would approach Morgan privately as requested with his ridiculous idea. The scrawny poltergeist kept his mouth shut and stare unwavering for the remainder of the announcements.

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[DELILAH.]

tracking. allowing those with the ability to see ghosts to see delilah in the back of the meeting. her aura is a deep magenta color.

[Grimm]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 420px; line-height:120%; font-family: arial; font-size: 8.5pt; text-align: justify; margin-bottom:5px"]It may easily be placed within the fact he bore little in way of knowledge where it came to this place, found only few moments to break from routine slowly building in which he may wander the town and the things contained within, the lateness to his arrival rather easy to mark. Brief the raise of thought, better to simply leave them be for this was not his place, nothing but temporary shelter until he could next move on. Though the words touched upon tongue for but a moment bitter was the lie within, burning as it lingered across the muscle. It mattered not how much he may wish to return, allow his life to continue as once it had, there was no chance to such coming about.

Upon the outskirts the wildcat lingered, tap of paw upon the moss strewn ground the only mark of the worry building in his chest. Half hearted was his attempt to listen, barely taking in the words spoken. It felt wrong being here, taking part in something he had no right to be present for, better it was left to those that actively wanted to be here or else proved an actual part of the workings of the group. Eimi was nothing but dead weight clinging to the edges, wanting some part yet terrified to make the first move to do such.