BACK FOOT + MASK VIGIL

[suvi.]

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SUVI KIIRA NÍ FAOLÁIN
MEDIC / BETA
TAGS && INFO

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[div style="width: 360px; font-family: palatino; color: #c48d85; text-align: left; padding-top: 15px; padding-left: 10px"]T͏O̴G͠ETH͏ER̕ ÁT̴ ̸T̕H̶E ST͏ART̶ O͏F̀ ̵TI̡M͏E

Vibrantly snow white, the petite vixen felt uneasy.  Her thick winter coat shielded her from any cold she may have felt in the dead of night, but it also shone as a beacon.  As a simple comfort, it did get slightly in the way of the blue sash she'd tied around her neck like as a tightly secured bandana.

In the dark, her unmatched hues gleamed.  It was almost too dark to see.  Almost.  Keeping one paw in front of the other, Kiira weaved around the edges of the cemetery.  Her constantly-alert ears perked, flicking in the directions of noise.  Two attempts.  She began putting some distance between them.

Just don't glitch, please, she willed herself.  Or if she had to, let it be when she needed to; let it help her.  She didn't want to lose tonight.  Not as one of the older members of Tanglewood.  Not when she should have been here the last time, had she not been confined in a Pittian cell.  But definitely not from a result of a glitch.

She just had to last the night.

But the night was terribly dark and she thought the gravestones may be folding in on her.  No.  Breathe.

Her paw steps were light and her body relatively small, albeit seemingly thicker than normal due to her winter coat.  She would wait behind a few gravestones for now, listening.  When all her other senses played tricks on her, and her mind conjured unreasonable fears, she could trust her sharp ears to catch the truth.  She wasn't about to let someone sneak up on her tonight.

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© MADI

[beck.]

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    In all honesty, it seemed as though the ranks were unmatched. Unevenly split between veteran and rookie. Prior few ever succeeded in staying around the old swamp, much less even participated in a vigil. He couldn't help but plant a twinge of guilt in his chest at that. With the first mask of Tanglewood under his ownership, he naturally was expected to hunt and pare down the weak. At least, that was the original purpose of his little game. If it still served as a motive to the wolfhound now following his footsteps, he didn't know. Nor did he necessarily care. He just wanted to have some fun without consequence.

    As a runaway denizen of the underworld, the task of stealth was laughably easy. Unfair advantage crossed his mind as he watched the unsuspecting hauntees within the graveyard, unable to be seen, yet he pushed it aside for the sake of fun. Always for fun. Fun, fun, fun. Beck fidgeted nervously in wait, flicking a blade of grass back and forth. The cold permeated the air, typical of a wintry night, meaning his own frigid presence might be assumed as the northern winds rather than a looming poltergeist.

    When the signal rang out over the cemetery, he snapped into the mindset of a predator, tensing replicated muscles before slinking among tombstones and epitaphs. Who to choose first? The sound of scuffling broke the silence of the burial grounds, undoubtedly disturbing the rotten, earless bodies six feet below. If he was lucky, perhaps a zombie uprising would begin, their slumber awoken by the yowls of creatures locked in mock strife. From what he could tell, Leroy busied himself with their oh-so glorious proxy. A proxy without a mask at all. What a joke. Sam targeted the arachnid, blind judged by the frequent tapping of the soil, searching for any footfall with trembling hairs. Easy pickings. He scoffed to himself. And Moth... well, she was presumably selecting a mark. As for the hunted, four remained unhindered. Kiira retreated to the outskirts. Three unfamiliar faces, names learned in passing, dotted the overgrown graveyard. One of which resorted to laughing like a fool, the others close to create some sense of teamwork and security. That simply wouldn't do.

    The cheetah could scarcely predict what -- who lurked in his very shadow. It was humorous, really. How the savannah descendant hunched close to the ground, allowing instincts to guide his form. Like he was about to spring after some poor gazelle. Beck sneered to himself, despite his prominent lack of a visible apparition. Fighting away the temptation to scare the wannabe war hound out of his wits and dappled pelt, unseen paws quickly set to work unfastening the sash tied around Kaz's waist, gingerly as though to not wake a sleeping bear. Was it fair? No. But since when had the world itself ever treated Beck fairly? Besides, there was nothing in the rules stating people couldn't attempt to earn their cloths back.

[member=4524]K. MILLER[/member]

[toboggan]

Leroy's wild onslaught of desperate kicks and flails had commenced, though its duration was incredibly brief. Before any progress could be made in regards to actually removing the sash, Aurum utilized his unfair size advantage and merely plucked the general off his body as if he were some rogue, unwanted hair. The canine had also been catapulted through the air, as well, which caused more humiliation than harm in the long run. Shortly after the rough landing that followed the throwing of his body, Leroy staggers to all fours and scans the battlefield to find that the other masked members of Tanglewood began engaging with their unmasked counterparts as well. Sam and Beck made marks out of Abathur and Miller, leaving Snarl and the proxy unattended. He could've sworn he'd heard giggling as well, and was dead sure that a few more faces concealed themselves from plain view, but those who hid themselves did not matter. No, the priority remained on the bigger, easier, much more obvious targets.

Snarl and Aurum. Both on the medium-to-large side. The hound recalls that Moth has yet to make an appearance. With the feline being quite smaller than him, Leroy figures that the chaser would prove to be an easier victim for the feline. Thus, his chocolate gaze falls on Aurum once more. His paws dug into the earth, readying the male for another attack. This time, he'd be more direct. This time, he wouldn't get fucking thrown. In a flash, his paws spring from the ground, and Leroy bounds towards the lion. Once the distance between him and the proxy was about a metre (give or take), he launched from the ground, his jaw wide open and prepared to clamp shut. When his wet nose practically brushed against Aurum's fur, the wolfhound's mouth closed in a snapping motion. His intentions were to bite the cloth so he could pull it off with relative ease, though his attempt had three possible outcomes to it. Firstly, there was the chance that he shut too early and didn't catch the oversized feline at all. Secondly, he could have done as he planned, and latch onto the cloth's fibrous surface. Or, he could have bit down too late, and chomp down on the second-in-command's figure. Totally depended on the timing of it all, and how quickly the wildcat reacted.

[wormwood.]

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AURUM

DO NO HARM BUT TAKE NO SHIT !

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The one good thing about him being targeted by Leroy was that... well, the general wasn't exactly a sneaky guy. It was still decently difficult to sneak up on Aurum when he was actually listening and looking out for threats, but it had gotten significantly easier to sneak up on him ever since he had lost his right eye. He was practically entirely blind on that side, and although he had gotten fairly good at detecting things there even without his vision, that didn't mean he was perfect at it. Luckily for him, Leroy didn't seem to pick up on that, or at least didn't care enough to even attempt trying a sneaky method on the proxy. That gave Aurum a distinct advantage, since the lion had been watching the hound closely, and his entire body tensed when the other came charging at him, leaping up into the air and aiming for his sash. Aurum's blood was pumping hard, but it certainly wasn't an unpleasant feeling, since the lion knew he wasn't in any real danger. Instead he just found himself mumbling silently, feeling a little bit bad, "Sorry about this, Leroy." The "this" in question was what Aurum chose to do in response to the canine's actions. It wasn't exactly the most dignified way that the angel could think of to deal with Leroy's assault, but... well, it was the easiest way, and hopefully the way that would cause the least actual accidental damage to the other.

Sucking a deep breath inward, Aurum yanked his midsection away before Leroy could clamp down on his sash, his hindquarters moving away while his front swung towards the other male. He moved to headbutt Leroy to the side while he was still in the air, using just enough force that, if he was successful, it would hopefully just knock the wind out of Leroy and knock him to the side. Aurum didn't want it to look like he was being easy on Leroy, or like he was being overconfident. It just felt like the right move to make, what with the roar of adrenaline in his ears and the frantic beating of his heart within his chest. Besides, even if it was just a little bit embarrassing for Leroy to pull such a move on him, even if Aurum succeeded, it was pretty damn dark, and it was unlikely that anyone would actually really see any of the details of the fight. Sure, a few of them had vision that could cut through the pitch blackness of the eerily moon-less night, but he doubted many of them would find it worth it to go gossiping about Leroy being brushed off by Aurum at the mask vigil. Unless it was like, Beck. The proxy was fairly sure he could see the founder gossiping and laughing about the whole thing, thinking it was very funny to see how Aurum prevented Leroy from grabbing his sash.

━ I'M GONNA WIN.┆PROUD. WARM. PROTECTIVE. ━

[Abattoir]

  Itsy had thought to herself she would partake, this time, in the mask vigil.

  So she did.

  The massive spider timidly shies away from anyone that dare approach, large, sensitive eyes able to make out at least the most meager of shapes moving towards her. As the event begins & chaos breaks loose she dumps more of her precious energy into avoiding each & every one--
 

  Too many moving bodies, too many flitting shadows, thumps upon the earth, sounds assaulting her every sense. Itsy freezes atop a particularly large gravestone. She remains utterly motionless, yet clearly visible what with her vividly venomous pattern. If left undisturbed she would remain like that for the rest of the night.