A CROW WITH TINFOIL IN MY GUTS / o, mandatory training session

[beck.]

    Grim thoughts had been clashing inside his skull ever since he promised to retrieve Vladimir. For once, Beck was concerned over the safety of his peers, with it being blatantly obvious that many of them had no idea how to fight or even defend themselves. It would be embarrassing to charge headfirst into a raid only to have the spineless creatures around here end up slaughtered and blaming him. Surely, they were worrying along with him. If they failed, they were all going to join him in the afterlife sooner than anticipated. A dark chuckle trembling with anxiety slipped from his lungs as he sulked through the overgrown town, uprooting up tufts of moss with every childish kick in his step. The problem at hand was an easy one to solve: his members needed to be trained. Except they didn't have much time, now, did they? Vlad could be dead by the time they wrapped up their last-minute training montage, and it would be a tragic waste.

    Well, any preparation was better than nothing. The poltergeist decided to say, "to hell with it," and spent most of the morning within the neglected junkyard's fencing, hauling and sculpting piles of garbage into saggy heaps, and clearing away enough trash for room to actually stretch one's limbs. It wasn't perfect, and flies still buzzed in his ears at any chance they got, but it would have to do. After rounding up as many people as he could catch the attention of with whistling shouts, Beck led them beneath a shredded section of the junkyard's fence, having to wrench back the bristly wire to extreme lengths in order for the larger creatures to slip under. He followed last, nonchalantly phasing through the barrier without acknowledgement of the seemingly impossible feat and stalked towards the front of the crowd. Swatting away at particularly annoying bottle fly, the boy hurried through his expected speech about what exactly was happening, hooked claws curling into the spongy earth. "I said not too long ago that we were supposed to be goin' on a raid or somethin' to get Vlad back. But then I realized that most of y'all dunno how exactly to fight. So, guess what, losers, we're gonna learn." Clicking half-exposed teeth together in a nervous tic, a clammy paw waved behind him to gesture at the multiple pillars of appliances and trash. Crude targets lined up like a deranged city planner had designed them. "I want y'all to pretend that these hot stacks of garbage are the pirates we're gonna hafta fight -- just show me what exactly ya can do and I'll give ya tips on how to not end up a war casualty. Hell, ya can even fight with each other if ya think you're real fancy." With that, the mangy commander side-stepped out o their line of fire, a split brow quirked in interest to see if they weren't all as wimpy as they seemed to be.

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[Belladonna]

[align=center][div style="width: 450px;; text-align: justify"][size=8pt]Belladonna, admittedly, was not a fighter. She was a pacifist, a sort of smoke-and-mirrors then run away sort of strategist - although if she had to admit, she was looking for better options for a fight. It wasn't working great.

So she padded forward for the training - as reluctant as ever, she sighed gently, and adjusted her satchel on her shoulder. If anything, she could be first aid if some idiot got themselves hurt - although she'd hope that her clanmates were smart enough to not do that.

"Speech."

[IVAN Z. BRAGINSKY]

He numbly followed after Beck- not because he really wanted to, but he was pretty sure he had to. Something about Beck bothered Zimavich. It made his fur ruffle and itched at the back of his mind, but he wasn’t sure why.

Training. Fighting. Zima’s eye flicked back and forth, evident he was thinking. Fighting was internal to him and it was his main job in return to Anakin. Fighting, he could do. He was still underweight for the time being- fighting was more fun when he just sat on them.

He blew hot air out of his nose at the thought of battle. The polar bear looked over, trying to pick out a target. He huffed, meandering over to the nearest one. Ivan’s steps were heavy and he walked in confidence. Telling them he was a threat with teeth that hung out of his panting mouth. He finally came to the dummy, and stood up on his hind legs, hulking over it, and giving a roar. The bear’s right paw swung- the uppercut disconnecting the “head” of the dummy and then pushing the rest of it over.
He turned around and sat, inspecting his paw, and looking to Beck.

Did I do good?

[Morgan]

Beneath its mask, Morgan sniffed at one of the stacks of assorted trash. Its smell had long since disappeared, and the canine was just starting to back away when it heard Beck make a familiar and unpleasant sound: "Pirates." That word held some meaning to the samoyed - it was the one word which others around it always uttered with disdain.

Assigning the value of "pirate" to the junk heap, Morgan leapt back and growled. Its icy anklets turned to water and shaped themselves into cones, pointing toward the fake pirate.

With a roaring bark, the dog refroze the water and hurled the newly-formed ice spikes straight at the "heart" of the pile. They impaled a crudely-placed microwave, whose window shattered upon impact. It followed up its assault by reshaping most of its mask into a small spear, which it threw at the "head". This time, the spear hit its mark - a toaster - and knocked it clean off of the trash stack. Morgan took a breath as it directed the water back toward itself, reforming its mask and ankle rings.

[COSMIIX]

[glow=GLOWCOLOR,2,300]▶ AMUNET - TAGS - TANGLEWOOD - ROGUE - FEMALE PRONOUNS - JAGUAR ◀[/glow]

Pirates. All jokes aside, these weren't the puny one from fantasy books no; they were dirty thieves that stole helpless people with impairments thinking they did a good job. She decided to use that as a fuel for her to fight the dummies or piles of junk that Beck had set up, she took a deep breath lashing her tail to the sides only to see that Bella didn't seem to want to get involved she would have said something to help the other in fighting but, she decided against it. These weren't the actual pirates so she'd save her big surprise for them and she would crush them, she was still angry and just handing over Vladimir wouldn't satisfy her. It almost felt like they stole from her and well, back where she had came from that wasn't tolerated so those people were executed or punished. Her claws stab into the soil underneath her with her pupils narrowed a bit as she turned her head a ways to detect and lock onto her target, whiskers twitched and she walked over towards it. She didn't have many fancy powers but it was enough to defend herself. She just wished that it was the actual thing and not a pile of junk but, she supposed they would have angry pirates on their asses if they caught a few clanmates of theirs. Her curved ears twitched for a brief moment and she listened to part of the talking occurring in the "battlefield" only to concentrate most of her energy to this task though not all. She had closed her eyes for a moment before opening them quickly still looking at her own rumble of an "enemy". She would leap over to the side of the enemy only to pull out a throwing knife in a swift movement which she threw at the "head" with a lot of force causing the computers screen to shatter at the touch of knife. She then started throwing more hits once that would unbalance and make the like lean to it's side, Amunet's claws digging into the "back" of the enemy marking all the weak points with her eyes and she finished off the foe with a powerful swipe of her dainty paws.

"speech"

[Dog]

As the golden retriever approached, it seemed like such a harsh environment. Everyone seemed so... off. Yet, he remained silent as he wandered over with perked ears and narrowed eyes. As he stopped to take a seat, he wrapped his tail around his paws and lowered his down slightly with a low whimper of despair. Not like he could do much for them. Though, he wished... One day he would have to learn their way. One day. For now though, all he could do was watch and act 'natural' like they did.

[Luciferr]

FENRISULFR

▼ — when the weak court death, they find it.

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Fenris watched the others and tilted his head, while there were any number of ways to conventionally bring down an opponent without resorting to powers, might as well show what he could manipulate in case specific talents were needed hm?

the wolfish creature hummed to himself before blue fire engulfed his target, the flames that left his mouth licking at the edges of his teeth lightly after he'd directed it and incinerated said target.

/low muse.

space

▲ — MALE. TANGLEWOOD. VERY HARD. REF. BIO. — ▲

#psychosocial.