WRITTEN SIN — joiner

[Cheeters]

She didn't know where she was. All she knew was that she needed to find shelter fast as mother nature was not kind to anyone that did not want to live another day. Her figure was soaked, her metallic silver pelt drenched with the rainfall that poured down from the heavens above. She had lost her ruby cloak after being chased off by an enraged bear after it had caught her hiding in its cave. Suriel could understand the bewildered anger one felt when they caught someone in their territory yet the loner needed shelter as she could feel her bones rattle and shake at the cold and wind of the storm that raged on at the dead of the night. Her small paws could feel the solid ground slowly become liquidy, the mud begins to stick to her yet she clung desperately to the hope of finding a place. A flash of hot electricity crackled the air and then the following roar causing her to flinch ever so slightly, her tufted dark ears pinning to her skull as she mumbled a soft curse under her breath, ivy green eyes locked onto the ground as she quickened her pace. Was it her or did the vegetation look different from what was usually expected? Her fictional eyebrows furrowed as she inspected it while slipping through the vegetation, long feathery tail dragging on the ground as she lowered herself to the ground as she heard faint croaking. Was there a toad beneath all the mud? Did it need help? She stopped in her tracks, her focus on finding shelter thrown out the window as Suriel began to dig through the mud, not minding how her pelt was becoming caked with it. She had to see if the poor creature was okay and as the croaking became clearer, relief washed over the pale silver female.

"Hey little guy, are you alr-oh!" Suriel's soft voice suddenly sharpened with surprise, her emerald gaze widening as she stared down at the frog. Or a deformation of a toad. Instead of two eyes staring up at her, there were four beady eyes that carried a look of sinister intention. She did not feel fear but instead wonder. Why was it like this? Was this normal here? The vegetation was certainly different than what she expected in a marsh-like area and now it seemed the creatures that inhabited were different as well. Gently setting down the toad and watching it hop away, Suriel's wonderstruck expression was glued to her facial features as she trekked farther into the territory as a million thoughts jumbled through her head. The toad's odd appearance was glued to her mind and she quickly went back to her search, finding an abandoned rundown farm that appeared to have other animals lingering as well but simply prey. She wasn't hungry at the moment and decided to simply step into the barn, her sleek figure enjoying having escaped the raging rain. She enjoyed the crunching sound of the dry golden hay as she found a distant corner to settle down for now. She carried a black messenger bag with her everywhere she went and the contents inside were what she worried for instead of her health. It was just rain, she would live. Opening the bag, the solid ash gray feline pulled out a simple old-fashioned camera, a notebook, and a pencil. There was more inside but she worried about the camera the most. It was slightly soaked and Suriel's eyes analyzed every centimeter of it, gently wagging it to get most of the water off it before settling it down by her trembling side. A small cough escaped her lips but she hummed softly as she flipped open the notebook, the pages filled with detailed sketches of various landscapes, animals, and plants. Finally finding a new page, she began to sketch the four-eyed toad, finding it comforting as the rain poured outside. Time began to drizzle alongside the rain and while she drew, the heavy impact of tiredness contaminating her energy as her eyelids grew heavy. Her pencil began to slow down and Suriel lowered her head to her sketchbook, not minding getting it wet. Or maybe she was too tired. Before she knew what was happening, she dozed off. The night went by and the sun began to rise but Suriel was curled up by her possessions, oblivious to the fact that she was in territory that had already been claimed.

[Freyja]

[align=center][div style=" background-color: transparent; border: 0px solid black; width: 530px; min-height: 9px; font-family:; line-height: 110%; text-align: justify; padding: 20px"]Freyja was exploring. The rains of yesterday had forced her to remain inside. She stayed, not because she wanted to, but because Nayru would've probably been upset if she were to catch a cold. So, begrudgingly, she had lingered around camp and the place where she rested her head at night. She had been so, so bored. That being said, the moment the rains had ceased, the tiny goddess was out and about.

The morning sun fell upon her, guiding her in her journey. It wasn't long before she happened upon a barn. Curiosity burned in her emerald stare, and she found herself stepping through the threshold. Freyja suppressed a happy gasp as she spotted Suriel. This was someone she had never met before! Wait... They didn't smell like Tanglewood. Oh, this was curious...

Soundlessly, the girl waltzed over to Suriel. Eyes full of wonder lingered upon the journal Suriel had been drawing in, and she tried to pull it out from underneath the new face. "Ooh, c'mon," she breathed. She gripped the edge of the book, and as she pulled, she slipped, falling backwards with a loud thud. The book hadn't been messed up, but it looked as though it moved slightly.

Freyja peered at Suriel from where she lay in a heap, and wondered if she had accidentally woken the other up. Regardless, she called, [color=#A36B5E][b]"Uh... hello! I'm Freyja. Who're you?"

[Luciferr]

FENRISULFR

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

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It was quite the feat that he always managed to go so undetected despite his size and colouring - even the aura and lingering scent of ash that followed him and yet he managed it enough to shadow his fellow tanglers from a mere yard away, overprotective? perhaps, but he'd not allow any under their banner a single harm to their heads.

it was his duty as it was his natural prerogative, so when Freyja - sister to Nayru, their small nurse - investigated the barn and stumbled upon it seems a trespasser - asleep - the canine like creature would frown and move forwards, visible and towering behind the feline like an omen of ill intent - or a particularly large and spiky bodyguard.

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▲ — TANGLEWOOD. PROXY. EXTREME. REF (9FT). BIO. — ▲

#psychosocial.

[COSMIIX]

AMUNET GHANA ✧ FIREBRAND — TANGLEWOOD — TAGS

As a dragon she had been more menacing and she was actually near the same size as Fenrisulfr but, she hadn't tried shapeshifting since she had felt more comfortable in her birth form. Victory was always a few steps behind War, the Goddess would brush up against the Proxy feeling scales brushing against her golden fur but her golden pools would lock onto the form of a once resting trespasser. Her ear would flick to the side briefly, she wasn't as intimidating as the Proxy but if she wanted to Victory could have easily killed anyone with her front talons. The golden jaguar would spread her wings for a moment so they didn't stiffen up before bringing them to her sides once more, she would take a seat with her fluffy tail curled around her menacing golden talons. Someone could look at their reflection in them if they so pleased.

© madi

[beck.]

    As much as Beck feared water, he didn't mind the rain too much, shockingly. Rainstorms wouldn't hold him under even as he thrashed and sputtered for air. What he did mind about thunderstorms rolling in was possible flooding. One minute he could be idling down a dry mudbank, the next perched haphazardly on a lone island of unscathed roots as a flash flood whizzed everything else by. So naturally, the poltergeist spent the night cowering from sight, for once locking himself in the storage unit once a home for a saner creature. He didn't like being cooped up indoors, unable to obsessively stalk the borders or check his traps or even hover over his dreaming clanmates like he was so used to doing now. All he could do was pace around his collection of worthless mementos and fidget with only a gluttonous fly trap for company.

    Before his anxiety could bubble over and spill into a nervous breakdown, a welcomed morning parted the worst of the rainclouds by some amount of a miracle. Audrey wasn't too keen on letting the poltergeist abandon him without breakfast, however. After persistent tugging at his ankles and fur with prehensile vines, Beck surrendered and scooped up the makeshift pot by its handle, scrambling through his storage unit's only entrance -- an ajar window -- and stalking off into the undergrowth. It was difficult to hunt with a bucket containing an eager fly trap bouncing in his jaws, yet he hoped something would at least turn up in his traps. Ignoring the sounds of his peers stirring and beginning their patrols around him, it took a few tries of various traps strung up throughout the territory before Beck found a catch remotely substantial for a growing plant. A frog snagged by a crude mousetrap mimic, four eyes bulging out of its skull and exposing its corrupted genes. Not that the poltergeist cared, robotically prying back the mousetrap to free the mutated frog only to toss it into Audrey's open trap, where after more than a few trigger hairs were brushed, began to close around the plump breakfast.

    Now that Audrey wasn't demanding for food, where was everyone headed? Inky nose twitching for any foreign scents the rain didn't wash away, his wheezing sniffs turned up nothing. What was all the commotion about then, if there wasn't a trespasser? Gripping Audrey's bucket handle once more, he found himself choosing the only option left: following after them in hopes of something to do. Creeping through foliage with a surprisingly swift limp, his split brow furrowed at the tail-end of Amunet slipping into the seemingly normal barn, along with the clashing scents of Fenris and Freyja. He could only question what was so interesting about a rundown barn as he trailed after, Audrey III too concerned with its meal to mind the jostling of Beck's hurried gait. Pushing aside a barn door with a bony shoulder, noting that he remembered the doors to be closed when he last checked, the mangy feline gave a disgusted snort at the curled-up heap of grey fur in the hay. Setting Audrey and its bucket down, the poltergeist moved to loom over Suriel like everyone else as Freyja woke her up so he could chase her out of their barn.

    But something shiny caught his eye. Features still set into an angered scowl, frigid paws were quick to snatch up her belongings, dragging them aside in order to investigate them. The camera's archaic design was vaguely familiar to his memory, flipping it around in his paws so the lens faced him. An accidental twitch causing it to snap a picture with a blinding flash, Beck dropping the old thing onto the splintering floorboards to viciously rub at his eyes. Unfortunately, the camera failed to capture a photograph of paranormal evidence, no apparition at all in front of the barn's rotting ceiling rafters whatsoever. The notebook was the next object of interest, the boy quickly tearing through its smudged pages on a witchhunt for any personal information scribbled down -- as if he would even be able to read it. Nothing. But one sketch caught his attention; the impressive reconstruction of a recognizable four-eyed amphibian. The poltergeist rotated the notebook and held it up close to his face for a better view, glancing down at Audrey with a wrinkled nose. Apparently the stranger had crossed paths with the frog currently being digested in Audrey's, for lack of a better term, mouth. Beck gave his lantern-like eyes a dismissive roll before returning to the sketchbook, flipping through the pages even after Suriel came to.

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[Cheeters]

Suriel used to be a light-sleeper, her attentiveness always clinging to her consciousness even when she was swimming in a sea of dreams. It was something that she had been able to carry pride with because it helped show that she was aware of her rich surroundings, aware of the nicks and cracks that blended in. However, there was a flaw in her observant system and that was the disease that clung to her body, absorbing whatever energy she was able to create out of resources. Her mind now drowned in the deep ocean of imagination, the flashes of technicolor and wonder muting out whatever was happening in the reality that was below cloud nine. She could faintly feel the warmth of the burning sun lace her soft facial features, even the slight disturbance of something or someone blocking it out. But the young female was struggling to pull herself out of her state of mind, her silky gray ears twitching a bit to faintly signify the problem of not being able to come out until a voice ripped her out of her sleeping trance.

Her brilliant mint green eyes snapped open, the sudden flash of various colors and light causing her vision to blur for a few moments. "W-Wha..?!" Her airy voice allowed a breeze of stumbled confusion to roll out of her muzzle as the russian blue blinked furiously to help adjust her vision. After it finally managed to create physical outlines of the blobs that were standing over her, the small lithe female's metallic gray fur bristled when she realized she was surrounded by strangers of various kinds. The first voice she heard came from a female that introduced herself as Freyja, Suriel's wide eyes holding a spark of panic as her heart thumped furiously inside her chest as she then turned to focus on the towering figure above the female who's name was Freyja. It was an intimidating odd creature and the lost girl's ears pinned against her slim skull as she took small slow steps back, the tips of her pale milky white claws beginning to unsheathe. Where was she? Who were they? She then caught a flash of gold at the corner of her eye and noticed that another tall formed had decided to join them. Was she somewhere in the land of giants? She highly doubted it but her mind was always stuffed with unusual thoughts.

She remained silent, her breathing was unsteady and shaky with her long tail low to the ground, sweeping like a brush against the wooden floorboards of the barn house. She wasn't sure what she could do, she could fight them if she tried hard enough but with her conditions, Suriel doubted she would be able to give much of a fight especially with how little energy she held when it was morning. The adrenaline that pumped inside her veins was not as strong as it used to be and she knew better than to attack without a plan as the athletic female simply stared back at the three creatures in a standoff. She guessed she must have been trespassing in their territory though she did not remember passing anything that would signify borders. The heavy rain that had poured last night must have caused her sense of smell to only catch mud and rain, blinding her from what was really contained in the odd land. Perhaps, she could communicate peacefully with them? Freyja seemed to not mind that pathway as she had introduced herself and Suriel knew it was for the best to go along with it. Forcing her spiky fur to slowly settle back down against her frame, the loner replied "M..My name's Suri-" Her voice was cut off when she spotted a flash of camera light a bit away from where the rest were focused and remembering her belongings, Suriel quickly turned to the direction where the flare of light had come from.

"Hey! Be careful with that!" her voice rose with stressed dread at the sight of the camera being pulled down by gravity to crash onto the floor, her emerald gaze widening as she rushed forward to grab hold of the camera. She didn't seem to notice who had taken it, her concentration only honed on her camera when she noticed that in the photo that had been taken, there was nothing but the cieling. Her fictional eyebrows furrowed and she glanced up to lock her vibrant eyes onto a stranger looking brown feline that carried a scowl that was beginning to reflect on Suriel's own facial features when he decided to snatch up her notebook and sketchbook. "That's not yours! Give it back! Please!" Distressed, Suriel gently set the camera down and aimed to grab back her books, her long earrings bouncing against her shoulders as she reached out for them. She didn't mind others looking at her research but when it came to her art, the sleek female didn't want anyone to really see them especially if she was not satisfied with the work.

( after fifty years, i have replied yeet )