TAKE THIS BADGE FROM ME // JOINING?

[SICARION]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 500px; text-align: justify;"]He was a good soldier. Not a good man, but a good soldier, and that was all they wanted from him. Forever trapped in his father's shadows, the footprints to fill bloodied. Once, when he was younger, he'd thought he could prove his didn't have to be steeped in that failure, except some things- maybe they were genetic; maybe getting the people he cared about killed was wired in his DNA, because his aspirations were all for shit. He was a good soldier, followed orders to a T, jumped however high was told, but he was a shitty brother. Lost the only family he had left because falling in line was always so damn important, even when he knew he'd never crawl out from under his father's stained legacy. Floris should have told his CO to fuck himself, should've marched back to the line his little brother would hold to his death and dragged him out of there before he could throw his life away for people who would never see him. But he didn't, and Kyeus was just a name on a list somewhere significant only for his attachment to a failure of a man.

It was late to realize the road he walked had a dead-end, especially after what shutting his eyes cost him, but better late than never. Maybe. Floris couldn't decide if any of this would be worth it, if being branded a deserter would sting any less if he buried himself in this snow. There was no turning back now, no matter what happened, and he'd just have to count on being too stubborn to die in a snowbank.

A little sun would be nice, something to warm his bones, but if the squishy people could make it out here, then so could he.

[Dimitri]

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"DUPLICATE" DIMITRI

Joiner. Fucking lovely. The brown tom approached, whiskey coming off his pelt and staring up at the dragon. "Yo. What's up? Here to join? I'm Dagon and I'm a fucking terrible person." Maybe they thought it was funny to introduce themselves that way. "Welcome to Snowbound, where it's fucking cold and snowy year 'round."

TAGS • PLAYLIST • WALL OF TEXT • PENNED BY OWLIE

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[NUI HARIME]

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SNOWBOUND
FEMALE
POLARHEART

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[div style="width: 360px; font-family: verdana; color: #FB9B85; text-align: left; padding-top: 15px; padding-left: 10px"]I AM IN CONTROL!

Soldiers were organized. Disciplined. Controlled and tamed to follow orders akin to a docile horse. Broken and domesticated by the bit and bridle.

Nui was nothing like a soldier.

She was farthest from it; a free spirit. Untamed, like a feather going where ever the breeze ran. Sometimes soldiers killed others. And like that, it was where the similarities stopped.

She has never known war or order or control or the brittle, dictative voice of a commander.

Ragyo had been her commander. But she was also a mother. And a flippant one at that.

Perhaps that's where everything had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

Despite it all, Nui did not dwell on it. She did not think of war and death or organized soldiers or legacy or following in anyone's footsteps. She was never meant to inherit anything. She was naught but a hollow child. Fake fake fake. Spun from the same fiber that people wore over their skin for decoration and shrouded with foreign origin. Only made to serve the one and only.

The stranger at the border was a peculiar one. All covered in sable scales and built like he was made to survive every second of a skirmish. Perhaps he was.

But because he was there, Nui was obligated to greet him anyways. The felidae stopped beside Dmitri-- now Dagon, was it. The artiste cast him a sideways glance, pondering to no end of the different personas-- the different natueres that lived within that body and how they came to be. Curiosity was inevitable for Nui, all consuming inquisition. And now with Dagon here, it was nagging like a pest  that might worm into it's host.

She had a job to do. A person to meet. Questions for later.

"I'm Nui Harime. What is your name, dear stranger?"

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[WINTERWOLF]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]Winter can't help but disagree with Nui's entire analysis — perhaps she had simply never met the right sort of soldier. Disciplined, almost certainly. But controlled? He's seen it come down to a battle of wills alone, sharp voices rising until one settled on disobedience or cowed at the harshness of the other's words. Sometimes being a soldier simply meant defiance, standing up for what you believed in. And that was perhaps where Winter had failed. He'd been everything Nui expected out of a soldier, taken to another level entirely. Though he'd walked away, he doubts that he could ever fully leave it, but in a way, he knows what it's like to be a deserter. Perhaps he can sense like people. The lion joins the group mostly out of curiosity — the stranger looks like nothing Winter had ever seen before, yet he carries a familiar expression. Winter would hardly use the word squishy to describe himself, but likewise, he would never see Floris as a docile horse. Curiosity lights up pale blue eyes, and this time he does sit, despite the chill that immediately runs up his spine.

"It's good to know I wasn't special," Winter grunts lowly, the words directed blandly to Nui's incredibly civil greeting. There might be some humor hiding there. Might. "To add on to your list of questions, what made you choose this?"

[SICARION]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 500px; text-align: justify;"]He supposed going as directed could seem as though one was controlled and leashed, but for Floris, following a directive had always been a conscious choice, especially the most difficult orders. For some, he knew it wasn't the same, but he learned long ago that it was a decision. Maybe not much of one, true; when it came down to it, disobedience was punished, but it wasn't much different than other people who operated under another set of rules. Sometimes it was easy to comply, and other times, the guidelines were questioned, and they'd had plenty of cases when soldiers rebelled against their COs. They weren't always successful, but again, they had that choice, just as Floris had the choice to either go back for his brother or leave him behind, and it was obvious which option he went with. If Kyeus hadn't been there, it would have been a compliance Flo gave smoothly, without the dilemma and hesitation, because objectively, it was an occupational hazard. A known risk they were all aware of from the start.

He couldn't say why he hadn't returned for Kyeus. Maybe he was broken to the bit, or maybe he was on the verge of choking on it. 

Floris would take swallowing that over alcohol, which wafted from the small creature's pelt and had his good mandible twitching. The scarred one made a valiant effort, but he couldn't get that one to move much even on purpose. Good thing these people didn't have their own sub-harmonics, otherwise the feline would have been able to detect the current of repulsion when he spoke. "Here I was worrying about social graces." The mutated dragon shifted, making sure he kept Dago in full range of his functional eye. "Yeah, hadn't noticed." Right, well, he wasn't here to make sharp comments. "But I guess you could say I'm looking for a place to cool off."

The next squishy was no larger than the first, though she had a single eye, something they had in common. The similarities probably ended there, but at least she was polite, and a bit more professional than Dago. Just in case he planned on staying, he committed her name to memory, as well as her face. The eye and fur style would make it a bit easier, because otherwise, the squishies all looked the same. "Floris Sicarion. You can call me either." He wasn't picky so long as they didn't enter nickname territory.

Sound and motion captured his attention, and he moved again to keep the larger feline in sight, who, despite having fur and other mushy traits, didn't seem all that squishy. Did he find a kindred spirit? Whatever he'd come across, the male was larger than he was, especially in terms of bulk, though if they had to fight, Floris could probably hold his own. It didn't seem like it'd come to that- usually Flo could pick out who'd piss him off from the get-go. "Thought it'd be fun to be ass-deep in snow."

[ATBASH CIPHER.]

ATBASH CIPHER

i know i should stop believing
i know there's no retrieving

Soldiers were typically calm, cool, and collected. Trained to be stoic and not care for their surroundings. At least, that's how Vigenere had become after being selected to join the King's Guard, and that's how he acted after being dismissed from the Guard. Atbash knew he was hurting on the inside, but the poor guy was trained to keep it on the inside. "Dagon, that's no way to speak to people at our borders." Atbash said sternly as she made her way over. Ever since Quantum had confronted her, the she-cat was trying to seem more leader-like, but that honestly was... failing miserably. But she was trying her damn hardest. The Hailcaller breathed in a breath and slowly released it as she turned towards Sicarion. "I apologize for his behavior. But you are joining, correct?" She just wanted to clarify, was all. "You're welcome to stay as long as you like. My name's Atbash Cipher, the Hailcaller here. Or leader, if you want a more 'normal' rank." She had nothing against people being confused over the rank. After all, what about Hailcaller screams leader? Nothing.

bio | female | hailcaller [leader] of snowbound

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[Dimitri]

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"DUPLICATE" DIMITRI

"That’s no way to speak to people at our borders, Dagon.” He spoke that part in a higher tone, that was quickly followed by a "Fuck off." What was she gonna do, huh? Punish Dimitri? 

It wasn’t like he had insulted the joiner, he just liked saying fuck.

TAGS • PLAYLIST • WALL OF TEXT • PENNED BY OWLIE

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[NUI HARIME]

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SNOWBOUND
FEMALE
POLARHEART

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[div style="width: 360px; font-family: verdana; color: #FB9B85; text-align: left; padding-top: 15px; padding-left: 10px"]I AM IN CONTROL!

The figure before her seems rough; hardened by the edges of life. He does not look, nor seem to be, by any means, a normal creature. Perhaps that is her own perceptions. Nui has always gone off her own initiative anyways; she finds no fault in it.

Winterwolf approaches the dragon with a strange sense of familiarity.not as family or friends would, but like a soul who had found their analogous brethren.

Nui can understand.

She has understood. She understood when Toga slipped over the border one day, painted in blood and eyes set for Izuku.

"Floris Sicarion," She repeats back at him, testing the words he has given her. What a lovely name, it rolls off the tongue much like water at the lip of a fall. Elegant, is what she feels when she thinks of his name.

Atbash is the next to arrive, quickly reprimanding the polarheart, to which they respond with scathing mockery of her own.

Nui does not mind the absurdity of the situarion, nor the bitterness. She feeds off of it instead, letting the pleasant, ever placcid smile upon her face grow with the pleasant hint of wry mirth.

Earthlings are so odd, yet can be quite the endearment as well, under the right circumstances.

"And I'm a Polarheart here. It probably doesn't mean much, but if you have any questions or need anything, I am here,"

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© MADI