Down by the bay - Open, power reveal + death

[SirDio]

The fox had been rather quiet - uncharacteristic of him, for a while. It seemed gods could indeed come down with a very bad cold for a while. But something else also hindered his mood - his brother. The worry he had for his older brother (older by like a second) was great, unbearable. He couldn't do much except for hunt or just clean around his treehouse. But enough was enough, he was going to go exploring, he was going to find his brother and stop the worry.

As he walked the desert he heard it. A shrill cry, someone in pain. But the name they screamed was enough. A sharp 'Jerikol!' was enough. It was him. The voice was all too familiar. The fox raced, fur flattening into leathery skin, body slowly changing with the stress. But he was going to be too late. No, he wasn't. Yes. No. Yes. No. Shadows stretched around him. Yes. No. Yes. No...

[color=#cd00cd]"No..." The words passed through sharp teeth and the partially scaleless dragon fell to his knees at the sight too gruesome to tell. Something scrawled on the paper next to the body, and with fading vision he read it in shaking claws. 'You've made yourself a target, here's why.' and a simple 'X' signature. As his vision went black the dragon let out a low groan, a creak, a sob. Then it felt for books, and only found three.

Jerikol began to dig, for none could see what he had to see now that he was the only one to see it. He dug and dug and then carried the body into the sandy grave, finding rocks and piling them atop the lynx before laying the sand back on. All the while his leathery skin and sparse dorsal scales shifted in shades of purples and blues, darker and darker, lighter and lighter. His four deer-like antler horns were suddenly white like frosted branches as he ran a claw over the books. Eltrous' favorites. Claws touched cold bottle and a feather point. His inkwell and quill.

All of his things, once his brother's and now his own. But did Jerikol deserve them, did he earn them?

//tl;dr - Jerikol, finally recovering from a nasty cold-like illness, goes to try and find his brother. Out in the desert he hears his brother scream his name. He arrives at the scene were Eltrous, his brother, is murdered by someone, their name only being X. Jerikol, having turned into a blind, mostly scaleless dragon, buries his brother and feels around his brother's old possessions. Currently he is sitting within the outer third of the desert, closer to the border but still a good ways away from it. //

I AIN'T YOUR IDOL, KID-[color=#cd00cd]"Speaking" -I'M JUST A GANGSTA!

[DANTE NORTHWEST.]

[glow=white,1,400]I NEED A SHOT AGAIN, THAT SWEET ADRENALINE ! — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

Dante had met Jerikol once in the past, but then the guy had disappeared. That wasn't entirely out of ordinary on life on the Beyond, at least in the hybrid's experience. Hell, he tended to disappear for months at a time without really intending to. Admittedly it was because he left in a drug-induced state and was spurred on by whatever drug he had gotten himself on, but still. He always found his way back to The Pitt. He was loyal to The Pitt, whether or not Gael or Aine believed him. I wouldn't keep coming back if I weren't loyal. Just because he didn't personally like or respect Gael or Aine didn't mean he wasn't loyal.

But of course, that wasn't the issue going on at hand right now. Instead, Dante was following a scent trail that he thought he recognized and once he reached the border, he saw a dragon in the distance. They weren't close enough for the border for him to really care, but there was something wrong with this 'stranger'. "Yo, dude. If you're gonna cry, do it somewhere else." He growled at Jerikol, completely unaware of who the dragon was and that he was actually a Pittian. [glow=COLOR,1,400] ━ ✧*:･ﾟ[/glow]

[gael]

[align=center]

♛ | GAEL Ó BROIN

The sound of crying in the desert threw the vulpine off -- an unusual and foreboding sound.  One that meant something dramatic must have occurred; concerning the Ardent.

While Gael did not recognize the dragon at seeing him initially, he did possess the ability to sense one's soul -- upon arrival he realized the broken reptile was Jerikol.  An upbeat figure, the last time the vulpine saw him.  "Hold on Northwest," he began, far more quiet than usual, hazel gaze studying the dragon.  "I believe this is Jerikol."

"What has happened here?" While the body had been buried, the iron tang of blood still lingered the air.  Jerikol did not appear injured to Gael, but that did not mean a fight had not occurred.

BUT I PROMISE YOU I'LL KEEP YOU SAFE ♛  gael ó broin / faerie / ardent

[SirDio]

Thin limbs moved in jerky moments, head swiveling in a doll-like manner as the blind beast faced Dante. As his crying settled he seemed to simply 'stare', scales finally settling on a tannish color while the leathery skin that wrapped around his skeletal body was a lighter tan. There was no reaction to the harshness, just a huff. As he heard Gael approach and clarify his identity, he stood in jerky motions. Jerikol felt around more, finding his way to his old mask. Hopefully he would revert back soon, once his emotions checked out.

[color=#cd00cd]"I.. I was going to try and find my brother." Familiar voice scratchy with lack of use, faltering as he sat down again. [color=#cd00cd]"I found him, but... someone found him first. They weren't a pittian." Claws felt for the note and he gripped it. Someone was going to pay.

I AIN'T YOUR IDOL, KID-[color=#cd00cd]"Speaking" -I'M JUST A GANGSTA!

[DANTE NORTHWEST.]

[glow=white,1,400]I NEED A SHOT AGAIN, THAT SWEET ADRENALINE ! — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

Dante's torn ear flicked at the sound of Gael's voice, not moving as the Ardent approached Jerikol and identified them. At least one of them possessed the ability to see souls and be able to pinpoint who was possessing what body, so Dante believed him and didn't say anything else. That is, until Jerikol spoke.

"Tough luck, kid." Dante replied, still holding that ice in his tone as he spoke. "Shit happens, get over it."[glow=COLOR,1,400] ━ ✧*:･ﾟ[/glow]

[aine.]

[table][tr][td]

AINE NÍ BROIN
FLESHWEAVER
FAE DRUID
INFORMATION

[/td][td]

[div style="max-width: 360px; font-family: palatino; color: #2e8b57; text-align: left; padding-top: 8px; padding-left: 10px"]HOW DO YOU RUN FROM Y[color=#5d8e93]OUR OWN MIND?

A nightmare.  The last memory of her brother... Felt more like a nightmare than a concrete memory.  Voices calling over ash and smoke and dust.  The building crumbling to pieces.  The sound of her father, scrambling inside, pulling her out by the scruff.  Just before it all fell apart.  Her home lost.

As the petite deer-fox trotted over, catching the last words, her hazel hues flashed.  Something broken turning into cold fury.  Directed straight at Dante.  "Wha-what do you know?"

"... Let- let him grieve, for heaven's sake.  No one gives a shit that you don't care, he clearly does." Losing a brother... A best friend... No one deserved that.  No one should simply get over it either.  Her ears rested flat against her skull.  "Jus- just because 'shit happens' doesn't mean it doesn't hurt." Jerikol had every right to feel something for a brother.

Worse.  It sounded like it was a murder.  Not just... Happenstance.  The druid breathed out softly.  "We- we should keep an eye out for who did it.  They clearly don't have issue getting close to our territory.  Maybe you can at least care about that," she spat.  Finished.

She had little else to give.  Bitter.  Wrathful.  "'m sorry, Jerikol," she murmured, swallowing back her frustration.  He deserved her attention more than Dante did. "I... I still remember- I miss my brother."

[/td][/tr][/table]

© MADI

[DANTE NORTHWEST.]

[glow=white,1,400]I NEED A SHOT AGAIN, THAT SWEET ADRENALINE ! — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

"I would know more than you think." Dante shot back at Aine, his eyes narrowing into slits as he looked down at the Fleshweaver. Although truth be told, he really didn't. He had no littermates, no family that he had ever gotten close to. His mother had died giving birth to him and he never met his father, nor really bonded with his milk-giver. He had no real close friends, or at least friends he would have been upset if they died. Considering the fact he had been bred for humans' entertainment in what was a freakshow animal fighting ring, Dante couldn't really make friends. They were all pitted against each other to the death.

Mentally shaking his head, Dante forced himself not to relive the memories of the past as Aine continued on with her speech. He had blocked out most of her words but came back to just as she commented that he should care about a murderer being near their territory. "I do care about that." He huffed, tail flicking. He had nothing else to say.[glow=COLOR,1,400] ━ ✧*:･ﾟ[/glow]

[gael]

[align=center]

♛ | GAEL Ó BROIN

While Gael did not often offer direct empathy or comfort, the vulpine more than understood Jerikol's loss.  Aine's brother had been his son after all; her mother his wife.  He even had a younger brother himself, though he had not seen the other in many years -- Sèitheach had been prone to faking his death, so much so Gael did not know if he were truly dead this time or not.

Despite this keen understanding, the Ardent blinked as Aine snapped.  It came as little surprise of course, given their loss, but he still found himself thrown off by her outbursts.  Gael narrowed his gaze, brow raising in unimpressed disbelief as Dante argued he did understand.  "Your distinct lack of empathy suggests otherwise, Northwest."

"Regardless," either the hybrid did not know the same pain, which he found more likely, or he simply chose to mask it -- it hardly mattered in this instance,  "of how you choose to process such things, pushing grief to the side is simply unhealthy and impractical to suggest." It was well within someone's right to properly process and come to terms with their losses.

Shaking his head in disapproval, the faerie turned to Jerikol, tone far more gentle with the dragon.  "I am sincerely sorry, Jerikol.  I know there is little we can do for your brother aside from be vigilant for his killer, but if you ever need to talk, you can always come to me or Aine."

BUT I PROMISE YOU I'LL KEEP YOU SAFE ♛  gael ó broin / faerie / ardent