JOINING/INJURED | WILL SHE LOVE ME?

[rochelle]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; width: 550px; padding-bottom: 17px; overflow: stretch; border-bottom: 2px dashed;"]Inhale after inhale. She was stuck in the repetitive state, unable to let the rising pressure in her chest release. Hyperventilating. You're hyperventilating. Exhale. Let it go. The wolf shot up from the bank of white sands, amber eyes wild and panicked as she finally breathed out, her body thinning and then expanding as she gasped for air. Her rich brown coat was drenched in sweat, in salt water, in a thick cake of blood.

Snout sniffed at the wound on her hind leg, her ears lay flat on her head. The injury had stopped bleeding, and it wasn't necessarily life threatening, but ... she felt like hell. The she-wolf shut her eyes, wishing away the pounding headache she had. When she opened her honey eyes, she finally took in her surroundings for the first time. Suddenly, her exhaustion settled, and she was awake- bruised and bumped around, but awake.

"Where in the ..." She swallowed, head tilting towards the stone wall entrance ahead of her. For a moment, she was completely astounded and disoriented, but then the memories came rushing back. She was running away from somewhere ... here to the Typhoon ... to join ... to escape to the water. Rochelle sighed, then breathed in the scent of the brine and the tropics. There was comfort to it, the hot sun clinging to her dark pelt and the touch of sand in between the pads of her paws.

The wolf now stepped closer, her pace almost a saunter, if it weren't for the slight limp she had now from that nice wound on her leg. She would need to dress that once she settled in. Shaking off her last bits of panic and confusion, she paused near the entrance way. "Hello, my name is Rochelle and I'm joining the Typhoon." Her message came off seriously, though her tone was full of warmth and formality. Rochelle had told herself that this time it would all be different ... that she would not shy away from what she yearned ... that she would be free.

[Luciferr]

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You will always be a monster, there is no turning back from it.
But what type of monster you become is entirely up to you -

Dark winged shadow flew across the slowly salvaged wreck of the Typhoon, the cause of said shadow circling overhead as he wheeled arund to come into a graceful landing despite the size of the beast.

he'd spotted the wolf from above - and the obvious wound - before he'd come into land and now that regal horned head moved to regard her, ne half of that face a mass of glowing red glasslike scar, the lone red eye never blinked despite its mercurial companion doing so as he humeed down at her.

"Lucifer grimm and a pleasure to welcome you to the Typhoon Rochelle - I'd be remiss not to offer you a chance to seek medical aid? i can find our doctor if so" that smooth deep voice inquired - the dragon nodding his head in graceful greeting.

[sub]TYPHOON - RANK - TAGS - EXTREME - DRAGON REF - FACE REF[W]isker[/sub]

[rochelle]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; width: 550px; padding-bottom: 17px; overflow: stretch; border-bottom: 2px dashed;"]She instinctively ducked when the shadow passed overhead, her tail sweeping the pearly white sands as her eyes darted up to catch sight of whatever winged creature soared over her. Amber eyes targeted on the dragon, who came down swiftly in front of her, her stature resumed it's normal state. Her posture was well, shoulders slacked back mindfully, neck elongating to hold her round head up high. It was a respectful look, not one of confidence and flaunt.

Rochelle, now settled, could feel the exhaustion growing back on her. It was like a heavy weight on her shoulders, but also on her head and her back, and especially on her wound. To distract herself, she refocused on Lucifer, eyes glazed but trained on him thoughtfully. She thought of him to be an impressive creature, captured by the aura that surrounded him. He almost exuded this scent of gunpowder and cold metal, Rochelle thought, smiling slightly. "The pleasure's all mine, Lucifer." She responded warmly, her nectar eyes seeking upwards at the dragon. His figure was ... getting fuzzy from her perspective, blurring in and out.

"I ... I should be able to dress the wound myself but ... it might be a good idea," Rochelle swallowed, " ... to visit the Doctor ..." The canine blinked slowly, feeling almost like the intensity of the sun was getting stronger and stronger. And then, she felt this ache in her stomach, like a trembling, a ball rolling and churning within her. Lucifer was merely a blur in front of her, and Rochelle gasped out of panic, her body now evidently shaking. Was she ... overheating? Dehydration? That had to be it, she didn't remember the last time she ate or drank. She couldn't think straight. "I need ..." Water? To sit down? Before she could speak again, she went back down, legs collapsing beneath her. She fell unconscious, the heat and exhaustion finally getting to her.

[ceilidh]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth=0px; text-align: justify; width: 600px"]tracking this to archive

[PINCHER]

Running. Freedom. Escape. Pincher was too familiar with those three cursed words yet had never really been able to succeed in doing any of them. He had attempted many times to run from his father's tyrannical rule over his life, to taste the joy of freedom when he would escape from the life that his father so desperately tried to push him down onto. Why the hell did he force him to become someone that he did not wish to be? To be a killer? To be a seducer? To be another sinner that was digging his own grave with each passing criminal act that he did. As a youthful teen, Pincher had despised his father with a seething passion for the oppression of not being able to be who he wished to be in his single mortal life. He had wanted to be a mapmaker. The ones that traveled lands from afar to document all the wonders of the world but when Pincher had proclaimed this to his father and uncle when they ruled over the Typhoon when it had been in its raw stages of being a nomad group, they only cackled with wicked amusement at the foolish dream of a child.

Now, had Pincher ever escaped? Yes and no. He had...killed his own father out of blinded hungry rage to end the bastard that had caused so much misery in his life but when he had watched his father's life drain from his exact carbon copy blue eyes, he had not felt free. He remembered stepping back and realizing that he had only sunken deeper into the pathway that his father had wanted him to become. A killer. A monster. His paws were stained with blood throughout his lifetime and there was no going back, forcing Pincher to come to the realization that he would never be who he wanted to be. That little boy and his dream were dead. However, he now had new dreams. A new life. Despite it beginning with him destroying any chance of being good in this lifetime, it had allowed him to encounter many lives that he was now grateful of interacting with, for example, his crewmates. Even with the differences that tended to cause tensions to arise, he enjoyed their ability to be there for each other even if begrudingly.

The dark metallic gray jaguar was stepping around the jungle, large paws softly thumping on the ground as Pincher was trying to get used to this new body. It was a lot larger than his doberman pinscher one and despite longing for it, he knew the jaguar form was helpful in...situations that he was now forced to participate in. He let out a small Romanian curse when a low branch slapped his face yet he simply focused on heading towards the sound of Lucifer and of a stranger's. As he reached the scene, he noticed that the complete stranger that he had heard the voice coming from appeared to be trembling. Pincher had seen it plenty of times before due to living on the beachside and seeing overheated bodies so he rushed forward, aiming to crouch low, hopefully in time for him to catch the wolf to land on his back as the icy blue eyed captain gritted his shark-like teeth before stating "Someone go fucking get Rosie! We have another joiner hurt!" Fucking hell, what was hurting all these people? He worried that some may bring trouble but what trouble couldn't the Typhoon handle?

[member=1130]rosemary roux[/member] / [member=1345]SOLVEIG[/member]

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© MADI

[SOLVEIG]

Pincher was calling for Rosie- yelling about someone being hurt. Of course it was hard to miss the sound of chaos and voices shouting, especially given that Solveig herself was not too far behind where the rest of them were presently gathered around the unconcious joiner. Her paws lightly gliding across the sand, she quickly made her way towards the group, her violet gaze flickering over the girl presently unconcious against the sand. This was bad.. She caught the stuttering words, the way her legs gave out as she started to collapse, but on the outside, Solveig was simply calm as she made her way to Pincher's side, surveying the girl's bloodied pelt and her person before she took a breath in.

"We'll need to cool her down... find some fronds, something big we can use for shade- Actually, Luc, we'll use you and your wings," the Wingspan on Luc would be more than enough to provide some cover and shade in this situation. "Pincher, use what we can here to start getting a stream of water on her. We want her cooled down quickly, but carefully or we'll put her in shock." Instructions given, her head lifted to survey the two aside from her before her head dipped slightly before she turned back to the treeline, intending to quickly fetch some large fronds to use as temporary buckets for the poor Rochelle.

//rushed sorry!

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