showtime »»——-» o, joiner

[calliope]

//feel free to skip to the last paragraph! most of this is just rambling.
»»——-» Everyone had their own struggles, and Calliope would be lying if she said she didn't have any of her own. Although, she was never one to ramble on about how she felt, choosing to push everything aside. In the grand scheme of things, her momentary struggles wouldn't amount to anything, only serving as a grim reminder of the things she gave up to become who she was today if she were to continue dwelling on it. If she couldn't accept who she was at any point in her life,

Doing the same damn thing every day was starting to get to her. Thing was, with a boss that was just as immortal as she was, Calliope couldn't wait things out. She had to take action quickly. And so, she was gone. Without a trace and without words, she vanished from her old life entirely, running off into the great unknown. Sure, she had a long time to figure everything out, but she was excited. For once in her life, she could actually pave her own path. Things were going to get a hell of a lot more interesting.

Days of travel led her to the deserts of the Pitt, a group that she was actually very aware of. It seemed that their reputation traveled far, and it seemed like the perfect place to her. Nobody would be there to dictate how she lived her life, and that was exactly what she was looking for, and nothing would stop her from getting there, not even the desert.

Tails dragging lazily through the dirt, Calliope continued to trek on. The heat of the desert continued to beat down on her, fluffy pink fur only making it hotter. The girl didn't seem too bothered, though, only making her entire presence out to be even more of an oddity. Sure, she was actually dying inside because the heat was a pain in the ass, but she couldn't let everyone else know that.

Eventually, the girl came to a stop, deciding to stop and catch her breath. The girl let out a tiny sigh of relief after stopping upon noticing that she made it to the border, a tiny puff of smoke escaping her lips. Geez, she really was overheating if that was happening. After waiting long enough, the girl knew she should probably make her presence known.

"Hey, hey! What's up, fuckers?" her voice suddenly erupted, extremely energetic and loud despite how exhausted she was. "You beter get your asses over here!"  Smoke continued to rise from her mouth in small puffs and streams as she spoke, only draining her energy more. Her voice ought to get her some attention, right? If that wouldn't, trespassing certainly would. She decided to trudge past the border, at this point, only doing it for the sake of getting someone to notice her presence. Honestly, she didn't care if she'd run into any sort of trouble. After all, that's what she was there for. 

[ninazu]

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© lexasperated

I WISH YOU COULD SEE THE WICKED TRUTH
CAUGHT UP IN A RUSH, IT'S KILLING YOU

Now, a pink fox-thing with multiple tails and a smoking mouth? Ninazu never remembered a joiner that odd – or this close to a florescent color. Or even that energetic; usually people seemed quite tired by the time they worked their way through the desert for a few hours. But not this chick, eh?

The sand cat wandered over, her golden eyes narrowed in irritation that the kitsune failed to wait at the border; though, in all honesty, the marauder didn’t give enough of a shit to bother about it. “Your screaming voice, for one. What’s your business with the Pitt?” she asked bluntly, her five tails lashing behind her.

[ yuck post forgive me ]

WRITTEN BY AXIOM * TAGS

© LEXASPERATED

[Grey]

[div style="margin: 0 auto; border-width:0; width: 70%; text-align: justify; line-height: 1.5; font-family: arial; font-size: 9pt;"]Pan struggles with ambition and procrastination. It is awful thing to lack motivation, to struggle to do one simple task. Sometimes she simply fails to see any point in doing a simple job, easily bored by the events around her. She longs for inspiration, she longs to be entertained. Without ambition she is like algae, drifting at the bottom of the hierarchy, letting herself ferment her life away. It's likely her own fault. If she just stood up and looked for adventure, she would have likely found it by now. She wouldn't have to feel like time is slowly shifting forward, feel that day after day was identical to the rest. But this is where her procrastination comes in. All she has to do is start something the same way someone might strike a match to light a birthday candle. As long as she has ambition, she will move and do something. She will be someone for once. Truthfully, she doesn't see much for the future ahead of her. The black serval struggles to see anything worth trying for and yet she hesitates to end, let herself give up. She just lets herself sink into an imaginary ocean to drown and fossilise, disappear into history where she will never be heard of again.

The girl doesn't think of herself as undying. She is immortal but it manifests itself in a different form: eternal youth. She hasn't seemed to age past nine months but it certainly does not phase or disappoint her. The only thing that she is bitter about is her height, the fact that she had honestly thought she would grow taller but is now stunted to that of an older child. To her luck, looks can fool. Considering she isn't particularly talkative around strangers and groups she isn't familiar with, they will likely buy the idea that she is too young to be drawn into violence and torment. It was one of the reasons she joined The Pitt. Only a real asshole would go out of their way to give her a bad time and, while the aggressive group didn't seem to care about how they treated each other, she was more or less concerned by captures from other groups. She liked to think of herself as a little safe for now. While she is not particularly afraid of death, she doesn't want to die in pain and beg to be killed. As long as this group continued to be the enemy, the villains of the universe around them, she is convinced she will stay an observer, a watcher of the chaos that unfolds before her.

Droplets of water trickle down her ebony paws, shards of ice frequently forming only to melt in the humidity of the rainforest. She doesn't, however, feel hot. The lack of direct sunlight from the tall, over-arching trees were enough to keep the female comfortable. Pan is, honestly, quite hesitant to enter the desert again. It was a pain for her to trek through and she doesn't feel like trudging for hours, letting her ankles be consumed by sand and suddenly more attentive to the fibres in her legs. But, to her luck, she notices a bright figure in the distance who has passed the border, shouting words that cut the convenience silence she had welcomed. Pan lowers her ears, eyes wincing because she didn't think someone could be so announcing of their presence, so loud and lively. Energetic people have the tendency to exhaust her, as if they were leeches who sapped away at Pan's own. The serval bites her bottom lip, approaching without a hurry to see that a sand cat had beaten her to it. They...both had multiple tails. She wouldn't judge out loud but she doesn't see the point in them. Tails were an extension of the spine and she personally wonders if removing just one tail out of many will affect coordination and balance. Regardless it would definitely throw out the mythical appearance.

As she looks at the stranger, she does nothing more but offer a meek smile if they ever accidentally make eye-contact. She doesn't see a point in small talk or saying anything else to the other - simply lacking the social skills to do anything else but breathe air and consume space. Pan can't help but feel mildly uncomfortable by the fem's multiple eyes.

[Stryker]

[align=center][div style="width: 60%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10.2pt; font-family: arial;"][glow=#000,2,300]☣ —[/glow] Now this was someone he was bound to like, despite Ninazu's dismay and annoyance about them. Stryker loved the rowdy type. A friend to shout with and shoot the shit with was all the lion needed. With this joiner, there was a perfect opportunity. The lion wandered over, taking a spot next to the marauder, offering a cheesy smirk towards the stranger. "Someone's bound to get in trouble if they don't explain why they're here," he cooed ravishingly. The Pitt didn't take trespassing lightly. Even so, if this stranger was willing to call for their attention, they were bound to behave under their watch... Hopefully. The ardent didn't want another mess to clean. "Perhaps you should speak on that, Pinky." Four eyes, several tails, and a hot pink pelt was an odd sight to see, making the lion feel accustomed to acknowledge it in his speech. After all, who could ignore that?

[CAESAR CIPHER.]

YOU'RE ATTEMPTING TO BORE ME !

CAESAR CIPHER. MALE. THE PITT. DWELLER.

"You're a fuckin' eyesore." Caesar grunted as he came over to stand next to Pan, his eyes narrowing at the stranger who had called out to him and his clanmates. His comment was pretty ironic, considering how bright his own fur color was but Caesar didn't really seem to acknowledge that. "Could you be any fucking louder, too? Can't hear you." Of course, this comment wasn't true and that was hinted at in his tone of voice. He sounded irritated and that's what he looked like as well; he did not appreciate this person's shouting.

#psychosocial.