IT DOESN'T FEEL THE SAME / joining

[ANIMA B.]

[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-size:10pt;font-family:verdana"]She is hopelessly lost.

It happens more often than she would like to admit. Most things happen more than Anima would care to admit, but she doesn't let it phase her. Not much can do that anymore, after standing before a snarling dragon breathing fire and trying to scorch you into oblivion, not much can. Still, it makes for an entertaining story, and what is life but a collection of stories? Anima's are grand, tales of death and woe and highs. Her story is woven with tragedy, she knows that, but tragedies make for awful stories.

What's a heroine without a happy ending? Pitiful. Perhaps that is why she keeps going forward, trying to shed off the past like a snake sheds it's skin. Keep moving forward, keep amassing more stories and keep amassing more scars and keep herself in her own line of business. There's always another monster to slay, there's always another people to save, there's always another night to forget. If it's not worth remembering, she likes to let it slip out of her mind. She can't recall much from her past due to the wilful ignorance and will to forget what happened.

Forget the twisted corpses. Forget the smell of burnt flesh and cries of pain. Forget the city falling. Forget her mother and father dying. Drown it all in getting high and alcohol and the past becomes nothing more than a dream, a distant fuzzy dream. It drags her down when she remembers and threatens to swallow her whole and Anima hates that. So she forgets it all for the most part.

What is left for Anima but her pride?

The panther is an odd looking one as she approaches the Tanglewood camp. She can smell the barriers, and decides to wait on the border. The jet-black fur and muscular form are familiar, made for ambushing and stalking. The wings on her back are not, reminiscent of a magpie's wings, but far, far bigger. They fold at her side comfortably as she watches and waits with her one good eye. She doesn't bother with an eyepatch, letting everyone see the scarring on her left eye and the whited out iris. It adds to the aesthetic - a battle scarred hunter of monsters and killer of demons and chosen champion of a dead Goddess.

And yet here she was - lost on a strange group's territory. How fate worked in strange ways or rather, how Anima wasn't the best navigator.

[SOCKING]

STOCKING ANARCHY

✯ — if you don't fuck with us then motherfuck you

space

a stranger walks forward on hardened muscles and ebony flesh wrapped in scars. to put it simply, her appearance awed stocking, who was a lover of the dark and fearsome.

undaunted, the feline approached anima. she was no champion or warlord. no hero, no slayer. she was but a mere failure; a shamed angel cast down from heaven on broken wings. stripped of her divinity and majesty. she gazed back at anima through her limp bangs, appearing to assess the other with a steady gaze. her eyes remained firm in emotion during her mechanical evaluation. stocking in her barest face, was monotone. while others held a heart of fire and passion, full of heated emotions, whether it be strong or subtle, for stocking, there was little to stoke the flame.

but anima stopped at the border. she had waited patiently, and the gaze of her eyes spoke of a reason for stopping at their metaphorical gates.

"welcome to tanglewood. what might you be here for?"

space

✯ — female. tanglewood. moderate difficulty. REF. BIO. — ✯

#psychosocial.

[ANIMA B.]

[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-size:10pt;font-family:verdana"]She's greeted with a purple feline. She's always loved the colour truth be told, but it doesn't go with her aesthetic she supposes. Still, she offers a smile and an eyebrow raise to the Tanglewood member, before it slips into the easy confident smirk that she loves to wear. Confidence is a brilliant mask, even for people such as her.

"Haerii Blair Anima, and Anima's the first name - I know you don't understand the naming conventions so I'll just tell you. I'd like to stay for a while." She replies, hoping that is enough to get her into this group. When she says a while, it really is up in the air. Joining would be the wrong word - Anima won't be tied down by this group, nor will she ever be tied by anything. At her heart, she would always be a free creature whether she was free or not. And of course, she would never be truly free again.

[SOCKING]

STOCKING ANARCHY

✯ — if you don't fuck with us then motherfuck you

space

stocking could wholefully understand not wanting to be bound to a place. especially such as this one.

confidence is a brilliant mask indeed, and anima seems to wear it well. she, herself, over the past week, had encountered siblings of unknown origin, but fierce, wrapped in the flesh of a tiger's body, and knowing full well what they wanted. anima reminds her of that family now, and though stocking cannot force a smile back on her face towards the joiner, she fixes the other with a gleam in those azure depths.

staying for a while, huh? that's fine with her.

"welcome to tanglewood then. i am stocking anarchy, a firebrand here. becky is our leader, and morgan acts as a deputy to him. so if you need anything of importance, be sure to ask around for them."

they are not far away from camp, yet stocking still gestures with her tail. "i'm sure you can handle yourself, and you can probably smell our base through all this stench, but i can walk with you there, if you well. there's odd creatures that run about this swamp anyways, so be on the lookout for them," though in all honesty, stocking knew anima was good on her own already. if anything, it was probably stocking who needed help. she, with her weak little body and powerless soul. it was only by luck that she knew this place well enough to navigate it without encountering trouble. while the marshland had a variety of creatures in various places, she tended to stay away from the swamp's lakes. such infected waters often bred monstrous crocodiles and other things that liked to lurk in that vicinity.

space

✯ — female. tanglewood. moderate difficulty. REF. BIO. — ✯

#psychosocial.

[madster]

coming up besides stocking was the newly-promoted medic, a sour expression on his face. he listened in on the conversation for a brief moment before turning to stocking and squinting. "why the fuck are you talking like that?" so eloquent. malphas liked to get right to the point, as quickly as he could. of course, he liked stocking, but the change was pretty jarring.

"hey," malphas greeted the weirdly-named individual, not changing his demeanor. "i'm malphas. medic here. come see me if you're hurt or some shit, i don't care," he said, then grinned, seeing an opportunity to mock stocking. "madam, my name is malphas- that's the first name. i'm nothing but a lowly medic in this agonizing hell of a clan, so please grace me with your presence if you feel ill or somehow injure yourself," he made fun of stocking, his tone light-hearted, and then he returned to his dull self. "whatever."

[goodsprings]

↠↠calloused paws carefully climb over the muck and moss covered branches and stumps that block her way. la'miyla isn't too keen on the grime that rubs off on her paws, and much prefers the soft sands of sunhaven compared to tanglewoods irradiated air. though its the people that keep her from leaving them entirely. the redneck hospitality sure is warm and cozy once she got used to it. it seemed not everyone was too keen on it either, but they all dealt with it in their own terms. she wished the trees could uphold her weight, but unfortunately she was stuck below in the sticky mud.

like anima, the ivory woman and her sisters had been lost upon arrival as well. they had been on the path to finding a beach but had unfortunately made a wrong turn along the way. though it appeared the winged beast here was... waiting. perhaps she had already known of the customs here, a knowledge she and her sisters had lacked upon entering the swamp. though she couldn't recall ever being scolded for it by anyone.

"la'miyla caralho, though la'miyla is the first for me. you may call me mimi, for short" she introduced as she strolled toward the two females. her pierced nose twitched slightly at the outside scent of the 'wood, enjoying the break it gave her nose from being stuffed with the swamps musk.

"you're more than welcome to stay, as stocking said. will you be needing anything else?" her caramel colored eyes couldn't help but remained transfixed on her wings. she was a bit jealous, wondering what sort of experience it was like to fly. their lovely medic had torn away her concentration, and she couldn't help bt roll her eyes. "men." she practically spat, her tail lashing. "never know when to shut their mouths or stay in their place."
↞↞

Template by Quill

[TALIA P]

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WAIT FOR ME HEAVEN
(i'm here 'til i die)

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"Well, I'll be fucking damned." Not that she isn't, already.

It's been - how long? - since she last saw Anima, the myth herself. She can remember far too many fond memories between them in their old home, and a handful of distasteful ones that she'd rather forget (she's never really forgiven Fenrir for making her lose control). Months? Years? Time has become so fluid ever since she left the Old Lands that she's long since stopped counting the days that pass - after all, what's a time limit to an immortal soul? She's lived for, perhaps, far too long than she should be allowed, and yet still she stands with her chin up and her chest out. Proud. Perhaps the gods did her something good, after all.

A voice tells her that she's being awfully unfair. Talia apologizes to Ghil and goes on her merry way.

"Last I saw you, you weren't doing too well," she murmurs, remembering when they had last met in the Old Lands - Anima hadn't recognized her there, but Talia still hopes that her friend would remember. While she's changed bodies since, her voice is clear and certain and familiar, undoubtedly, to someone she'd once called a good friend.

The hellhound pads closer, wings furrowing before sitting still on either side. From underneath her chin, two amber eyes peek out almost curiously - the pygmy owl recognizes her too but has never learned to speak, anyway, so it simply lets outs a soft trill in greeting before hiding again. "Let me ask the question I did before. Are you Anima?" She hopes, this time, that she would agree. She misses her friend, after all. She misses having a friend at all.

TALIA PENDRAGON — HELLHOUND COUNTERPART — TANGLEWOOD ROGUE — [color=#ac9488]TAGS

© MADI

[ANIMA B.]

[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-size:10pt;font-family:verdana"]"Odd creatures? Well, I'll be sure to take a look then." Her mouth curls into a grin at the thought. She does love finding odd things and also killing them too should they take a fancy at locking their jaws around her neck. Still, she shakes her head at the offer of being guided towards camp, she can indeed smell it and she can indeed make her own way there. Besides, walking there means making that godamn awkward small talk. No matter how old she gets, Anima will never be good at small talk.

Malphas reminds her of Andras so much that she actually laughs at how little he seems to care about his duties. Despite all the man has done to her, she still holds him in high regards, in memories where they shared drinks and laughed until the sun came. "Sure, I'll come see you if I get bored and annoy the hell out of you, sound good? Eh, if I get injured it won't be an issue for you to sort out anyways." After all, she doesn't heal anymore. Her body is marked by things that she doesn't know the mechanisms of but it's probably beyond mundane medical means to assist her. It isn't something to worry about really... Not at all.

"A pleasure to meet you Mimi, truly is." She replies. Albino tigers seem to more frequent than they should be, but the appearance isn't an unpleasant one so she doesn't mind. The scarification does earn a small surprised expression - it has been a very long time since she's seen someone practice it. It reminds of a neighbouring tribe to Haerii, perhaps that's where she came from? Or rather, at one point someone related to her did. "Ah, he's not bad..." She responds to the comment about men because well, she finds Malphas' mocking tone quite funny. He did nail the overexaggerated formality down to a tee.

Oh. She recognises that last person. It takes her a while to click, her jaw slightly slack as her eyes light up first. Talia Pendragon, her former leader and her... Ah, would she still consider her a friend? Anima sure hopes so. A smile so genuine it's almost infectious forms on her face, wings fluttering gently to betray her joy. The hounds certainly are a sight, but Anima doesn't let that deter her. "I think we both already are."

At the mention of her previous mental state, she chuckles nervously. It's still... Not really fixed. It's something that Anima doesn't want to address really, so hopefully her response to the final important question will sweep those questions underneath the rug. "Unfortunately, yeah. Haerii Blair Alae Anima, if you want to be specific. Still somewhat alive. Fuck me Talia - how did you end up here of all places? Nevermind, nevermind, fuck, it's good to see you again."