what the water gave me ;; o, joining??

[charrie graveyard]

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[div style="text-align: justify;"]He was sick of water. Absolutely sick of it. Having woken up with his body straddled to a floating log, the metal feline had been floating around for almost a day and a half now, not even sure what time or what day it was. His metal pelt was dented and scratched to hell and every muscle in body ached, yet despite all of his injuries, he couldn't even remember what had happened to him.  Perhaps he had gotten in a fight? Or maybe... he had fallen down a very large, rocky hill or something? That was all he could think of right now, though he had a feeling that both were probably wrong.  Crow knew he had come from a satellite far above Earth but... as to how he had ended up here, floating in some disgusting bog, he had no clue. Before he could even begin to think of a possible answer, the male felt himself slipping off into an uncomfortable slumber, continuing to float downstream...

Several hours later, Crow would awake to find himself lying on a shore, bog water lapping at his back paws. Ok... now where was he? He was still in the bog but... something was off. Really off- and not just because it was night time and there were some rather... unsettling noises around him. Attempting to stand up, he found that the two front leg prosthetics that were supposed to be attached to the rest of his metal pelt were completely gone. "What... the fuck... where are my legs?!" He cried out, trying to keep himself from panicking, but completely failing. Oh god... if he didn't have any front legs... how would he walk? He wouldn't be able to even survive out here! From his observation, this bog was the perfect place for gators to make a home... and without the ability to walk well... he was just a... sitting duck! Err- cat, really. Although he doubted anyone lived here, he didn't know what else to do other than to try and call for help. He could only hope someone would come to his aid before the gators showed up. "H-Hello!? Is anyone out there... please help me!" Crow would call out desperately, ears flattening as he tried to keep himself from trembling.

/this is poorly written bc i'm really tired but he's missing his two front leg prosthetics (which will show up later dont worry), so he's basically got no front legs :') other than that, he isn't injured aside from the dents and lil scratches in his metal body, which he'll fix later.

★ tags ★

[VIGENERE CIPHER.]

[Freyja]

[align=center][div style=" background-color: transparent; border: 0px solid black; width: 530px; min-height: 9px; font-family:; line-height: 110%; text-align: justify; padding: 20px"]The young goddess had easily caught Crow's holler on the winds. Concern flashed over her features as she searched for the source of the call, but Vigenere reached the robotic creature before she could. She would hang back, assessing the situation (granted, this was only for a fraction of a second), before she scurried forward.

"Oh, Vigenere, what happened?" Freyja inquired, a confused look upon her soft tabby features. Emerald eyes moved to take in Crow, missing limbs and all. "I'll help you get him back to camp! I'm good at helping." She smiled and nodded her head as if to prove her point. She was also uncharacteristically strong for someone who seemed to fragile. [color=#A36B5E][b]"Oh, I'm Freyja. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Robot."

[▷killian◁]

"Mr. Robot?" Killian's voice was slightly muffled, coming from some random direction before his head poked out of a bush and he shoved his way out. "We've got fuckin' robots now? That's awesome." The dog's hazy eyes flicked over the scene. Wow, that was one shiny cat. He squinted his eyes and trotted forwards to stand closer to them. The two groupmates who were here already seemed to have the situation under control but who knew, maybe something dangerous would show up.

"How'd you even get all the way out here? Did'ya scare off all the gators? They probably thought you were the fuckin' sun, now that I think about it, you're that bright." He didn't mean anything by it, of course, he was a joiner who'd somehow managed to get deep into Tanglewood territory so he had no room to judge. It was just now that he'd been in the group and gotten to know the territory, he understood how ridiculous it was that they always managed to get so far in. Anyway, it didn't really matter all that much; Killian really didn't give a shit, he just wanted to distract the dude from his missing legs.

"SPEECH"

▼o・ェ・o▼

[beck.]

    For once, Beck didn't need to sniff a trespasser-slash-possible joiner out; the nasally yelling did the job for him. Surprisingly, he hardly ever heard cries for help in their territory. Usually, whoever was in peril was killed before they could call out for a begrudging savior, leaving the first to find them responsible for cleaning up the remains. Sometimes, he wondered if it would save time and effort to leave the bodies as a warning and bonus fertilizer -- but then the swamp would only be even more polluted with their filth.

    The only reason he was willingly close to the shore was because of the same fishing trap he'd been attempting to set up since he was distracted by Iota not too long ago, hesitating on the banks of the estuary with the wire trap tightly clenched in his paws. Staring out over the murky water, the boy was paralyzed by his own memories, jaw visibly setting as he fought back the urge to hack and cough. The desperate shouting was a welcomed distraction, his honey-brown glare snapping towards the direction with a wheezing exhale he didn't remember holding. Without a moment of thought, he abandoned the fish trap, returning it to his nook hidden beneath cypress roots, and

      A clamor was growing around whoever washed up, sounds of multiple creatures approaching causing his ears to swivel around like triangular satellites in a paranoid attempt to pinpoint everyone's exact location as he limped to the scene. The closer he drew, stalking through cattails and sawgrass, the easier it was to recognize which of his peers had reached the distress call first, a hollow sniff identifying their scents. The wafting tang of old rust, sickly sweet aroma of fruit, and a faint whiff of oil -- and someone else carrying only the distinct scent of tarnished metal. Freckled features wrinkling in suspicion, Beck shoved past a thicket of bullrushes and halted at the sight of a dinged-up robot. Tilting his head to the right and only offering a wide-eyed stare at first, he had to wonder, how did someone lose their legs? Weren't they too important to misplace? Maybe the stranger should have had a tracking chip installed. Blurry vision blinking away the blinding glint of sunlight bouncing off Crow's metallic covering, Beck averted his attention elsewhere, rubbing at his eyes to chase away the resulting sunspots.

      When he opened his eyes again, there was still an annoying metallic glint irritating his sight, but another source was responsible. A wavy sheet of metal jutting out of the mud, one that seemed more at home on a roof than littered on the shore. Figuring everyone else could handle Crow, Beck sauntered closer to the metal shingle, admiring it for a moment before rearing back on his hind legs and struggling to rip it from the ground. Eventually, the shingle loosened and the mud released its hold, sending it and the mangy feline toppling backwards. The metal sheet was larger than he pictured, but after a bit of clumsy maneuvering, he stumbled back to his feet with a plan. Pushing the shingle back over to Crow, and ignoring the static charge building up in his apparition seeking to travel through the electrical conductors present, Beck spoke up with a flat croak, "Look, Vige, y'ain't gotta carry 'em, just put 'em on this metal-thing, and slide 'em over." Like a makeshift sled or gurney. Except it needed a handle. The poltergeist gave a dismissive shrug of bony shoulders at the thought, knowing it would be too much of a hassle to stab the holes needed for a rope to serve as a handle through the metal shingle right then and there. But maybe later, he could give Crow something to be mobile with some assistance. Recoiling from the four, Beck watched the robot with a doubtful scowl, rasping out the first of many childish questions to come: "Are ya here to invade us?"

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[charrie graveyard]

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[div style="text-align: justify;"]Oh- well that was quick. Thank god there was someone brave enough living here to come and help- well, several people, as a matter of fact. Unable to spit out an immediate response to Vige, he would eventually stutter in response. "W-Wait a sec, I'm not... really fond of being picked up I, uh-" He cut himself off as more creatures began to gather, eyes flickering from one person to another. "Well, first of all... I'm only partially robotic, and my name is Crow. So... the robot term doesn't really work here- and as for how I got here, I have no clue. I just know there was big ol' explosion and KABOOM! I'm on a log floating in a smelly bog with NO LEGS!" The metallic feline responded, tail flicking and imaginary brows furrowing. It was only when Beck approached that his mood seemed to change, going from irritated and panicky to confusion.  "Invade you? Wh- No! Invade who? A bunch'a... uh... I don't know who you guys even are- hillbillies livin' in Florida's swampy butthole? Is this even Florida? I have a feeling its not..." At this point, he was just mindlessly rambling, but he didn't really know how to respond to any of the others' questions.

★ tags ★

[Luciferr]

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But Heed this lesson well,
When the weak court death, They find it -

"you're in tanglewood, not Florida" a rumbling voice answered as War stalked into the area, the regent casting a glance around everyone there - a nod to each in greeting - Vigenere seemed to have been the first on the scene this time given the kerfuffle.

Also the stranger was partially robotic, hm, not something he'd seen in awhile - there had been a time before he'd died and come back where he'd had a few metallic parts or an almost second skin, hm - the guys name was crow and he wasn't invading, hm.

Fenrisulfr cocked his head "we'd next take you back to camp either way, you won't be moving on your own for awhile I guess" he glanced to the missing limbs, yeah that'd put a stop to any manoeuvrability really.

[sub]TANGLEWOOD - REGENT - TAGS - REF (9FT) - EXTREME[W]isker[/sub]

[COSMIIX]

AMUNET GHANA ✧ PROXY — TANGLEWOOD — TAGS

Limping over, the large jaguaress would make her way over brushing up against Fenrisulfr and leaning onto him. She was bandaged up after her recent attack, her curved ears angled forward as she listened in on the conversation finding it a bit amusing "Yes, this is not. But we do have alligators like Florida. . ." She hummed in amusement before she would introduce herself "Well, welcome. I'm Amunet,"

© madi

[beck.]

    Unlike the other creatures unaffected by Crow's insulting words, Beck narrowed his eyes in irrational offense, all willingness to help quickly disappearing. Dropping the metallic shingle, resulting in a muffled clang against the mud, the poltergeist let out a punctured huff with a dangerously numb expression on his features. "Well, since ya don't want these 'hillbillies' helpin' ya, then we can just leave ya here," he falsely threatened, knowing that nobody in Tanglewood had the guts to leave someone to their doom -- where had they been when he was murdered? Swiping a tongue over exposed teeth, he cast an unreadable glance towards the five now gathered and continued with a nonchalant rattle, "If ya ain't got nothin' else to say, then we'll just leave ya out here with the gators. It was nice knowin' ya, Crow." Ears flicking back in dismissal, the commander appeared to make a move to leave, watching over his shoulder for an reaction.

    If he hadn't been surrounded by softies determined to help any poor whelp that wound up on their land, Beck would have followed through with his threat and abandoned Crow without a second thought. Just out of spite. Of course, when Amunet welcomed the metallic feline, he was forced to drop his act. The poltergeist hung close by, bloodless lips curling into a strained grin as he mock-echoed after the goddess in a shockingly accurate impression, "Yeah, 'welcome'." Still upset over the verbal jabs Crow had spoken and the fact he couldn't leave the armless robot out as gator bait, Beck bitterly spat on the ground, in vain as toxic drool still clung to his disfigured maw, and stalked off into the cattails, hopefully leading the crowd to drag Crow back to the ghost town.

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[IVAN Z. BRAGINSKY]

ZIMAVICH

[div style="text-shadow: 0pt 0pt 5pt lightgrey; color: black; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 10px; margin-top: -15px; letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: right; width: 500px;"][i]TANGLEWOOD — PROXY — RUSSIAN BEAR DOG
[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;"]Oh, Beck didn’t like this new guy. Zimavich growled at the newcomer, unsure about him and licking his chops. He panted, then growled again. He moved closer, raising a paw and aiming to thawp crow by the head. ”Rude.” he decided, growling and baring his teeth at the joiner. He looked at Beck. He stopped drowning at this point and wondered if he’d done the correct thing.

#psychosocial.