TOO DUMB TO DIE | open, joiner

[KIRK]

☆ //YEETS THIS @ YALL SKSKSK IT SUCKS I'M SORRY

You know what? Fuck this. With each step he took, the young male grew increasingly irritated with his situation, and it didn't seem like it'd be letting up anytime soon.

Kirk had been traveling for... a while now - a week, maybe even two - and he had yet to find the rest of his "crew", let alone any sort of civilization. He knew he should've dipped out of that little "experiment" while he could, but it'd just been too tempting; he would get to go to space on an unprecedented mission. How cool was that? Well, as it turned out, not so cool, since their landing hadn't gone quite as planned and now he was stranded in the middle of fucking nowhere.

As the light-furred canine carried on on his trek, it was very obvious that he either knew very little, if anything, about clans, or he just didn't care, for he had long since passed the invisible line that marked the border of the Ascendants's territory.  His feet were killing him, and, he'd admit, the worry that he wasn't ever going to find any civilization, or at least food, was mounting every moment that passed. He had nothing with him, for he'd been launched from the ship in their crash, separated from all his belongings and his crew.

What a gorgeous ship it had been, small, sure, as it had only been built for him and his two crewmates, but beautiful nonetheless. He and his crew had been hand-selected to be a part of the experiment, all three of them so privileged to get a chance at something no other animal would ever get to try. Kirk wasn't exactly surprised by their failure- humans were never able to quite get things right, from what he'd noticed, and, while picked for their skills, he and the others had also been chosen because they were animals- because they were expendable.

He pushed the thought aside as he trudged onward, jaws parted and tongue hanging out one side. He'd find someplace to stay soon enough, he was sure, if he only kept going.

"speech"

[MOONMADE]

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this is messy and rushed

Humanss were pieces of shit who abused everything they could get their filthy hands on-- but Moon had learned animals weren't much different. Or, those he'd come from, anyway.

But he'd come to realize that it wasn't that simple. Bad ones existed and good ones did, too. It was more of a 'Not All Animals' kind of thing. Because the folk here were better to him than he'd ever experienced before, and though it left him with borderline heart palpitations and sleepless nights, the days that followed were worth it. It sounded cheesy and it sounded mushy, but the company and the warmth that seeped from the smiles of those that surrounded him, now, made it all worth hanging around. Made him feel good, and possibly, maybe, just a little bit loved.

So he understood the cesspool of joiners that plagued the border with each passing day. They just wanted in on the good stuff. How could he blame them? Today, however, Moon wasn't upping sticks at the border. Instead, he lay sprawled out on the branch of a tree slightly deeper into the territory, one paw hanging off languidly. He was working on his fear of heights, and perhaps it was a good thing he was so aware of the emptiness that existed between the ground and himself, because he quickly noticed when it was filled. He rested his cheek on his paw, expecting the coyote to at least smell him and pause, but when he continued on his way, Moon frowned and interrupted loudly. "Now entering The Ascendants." He called, chalky and sweet like a Siri voice-over. A yawn coats his words. "Lookin' thirsty, doggy. Need a pit-stop at the water bowl?"

[trojan g.]

The sight of someone in the middle of the territory was cause for concern with Roman, for the last time he had been there when such a thing had happened had been how he had gotten his leg taken from him, though, at least it seemed as though this time he would not be alone with the stranger in the territory, and the stranger before them looked to be someone that was tired and hungry - and most likely lost - which calmed his panicking mind slightly, though not fully. If this was someone that would potentially join they would need help, and he knew that, though what he would need first was not something that Roman could just give the other - the threat of a murderer on the borders that could strike at any moment was something that had caused that. One could not be too careful.

Padding closer to the other canine, Roman would be careful to make sure that he didn't cause too much strain on his leg. Although he had more than enough time to rest, due to his walking around so much afterwards and the healing process, it still hurt often, and he wanted to reduce the risk of the wounds reopening. Looking over to Moonmade as he spoke, Roman would then look back over to Kirk, thinking for a moment. "What's your name?" He'd ask, trying to get that out of the way at least.

[★ HAZEL]

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as love filled night gives way to day

Every joiner was either a crash landing, a wanderer, or a runner. It just so happened that they seemed to get one ever half hour; which would be a great thing for the Ascendants if the seventy-five percent that joined were ever seen again. Unfortunately, most disappeared into oblivion, not to be heard from. It sounded like a horror story, but to Hazel it was just tedious. All the once occupied rooms had to be cleared out to make way for newcomers that would hardly last a week. Rinse and repeat.

Fortunately, the rooms were scarcely hard to clear; depending on how long the inhabitants had stayed, it was generally vacant. What was upsetting was throwing away the belongings of someone who had disappeared — personal affects that meant something to someone. They held memories and history, but had unfortunately been left behind in the wake of something more important. Hazel hated throwing away pictures the most; it felt heartless and intrusive, but...necessary. Awful.

What called her attention to the scene was Moonmade’s rather loud statement, which announced Kirk’s presence to half the territory. Hazel wasn’t far off from, anyway — she was under the shade of a nearby tree, watching Arion graze. At Moon’s voice, she snapped her head up, yanked from her doze. Golden eyes lazily tracked the coyote while he wandered through the territory, his aura mirroring the confused and irritated state she saw in Bones’s the other day.

Rising to sit, she watched Romanempire approach  and ask the stranger’s name. Gaze idly flicking to Moon for a heartbeat, she tilted her head at the unknown male, wondering if he’d even noticed their scent markers. “And what brings you to the middle of our territory?” The cocoa feline tacked on to Roman’s question.

(Mobile)

HAZEL E CAELUM — THE ASCENDANTS — MOODBOARD — PLAYLIST — TAGS

© MADI

[BASTILLEPAW]

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BASTILLEPRISONER AURELIUS

ASTRAL SERAPH ★ THE ASCENDANTS ★ TAGS

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Bastille had a tolerance-hatred relationship with joiners. Sure, they were good for the Ascendants, and all of that patriotic nonsense that he was obligated to be invested in as their terribly begrudging leader, but that didn't mean he had to like them per se. Which — he didn't actually hate them for who they were, really; he hated the concept of having to socialize with more strangers, having to risk the chances of letting them in and getting attached, had to accept even more lives at his paws that he was responsible for. When they inevitably went missing or disappeared without word, he was forced to be concerned for their wellbeing; when they stuck around and he pretended not too care too much for them, he found that they wiggled their way under his skin and forced him to. It was, above all, a threat to his goddamn sanity.

He supposed he didn't really get a choice in the matter. He couldn't turn them all away. (Well, okay, he could turn some of them away, such as assholes like their recent pirate who thought he had a right to harass his members, but that was a different story entirely.) So, may as well come greet their most recent bane to his existence, if only because he could feel the warmth of Hazel's presence nearby and knew that she must be out there greeting said bane. She was only just recently leaving her room to actually move about the territory; he saw absolutely no recent to leave her on her own, and so there he was, stopping at her side a few moments after she arrived.

Pale blue eyes regarded the stranger briefly, before he skipped over their various questions and provided a relatively unhelpful, "Yo. 'm Bast." No point in repeating what has already been said, and even less point in full names or titles.

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BY THE GRACE OF THE FIRE AND THE [color=#b4d5ee]FLAMES

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[Grimm]

[align=center][div style="width:400px; font-size:8.4pt;line-height:1.1;color:#000;font-family:arial;margin-top:3px;margin-bottom:3px;letter-spacing:0px;margin-left:0px;text-align:justify;"]There seemed no sense of fear, or what was present proved minimal to a point it might as well have been non-existent, few dredging up the sense of panic which warped and tore at thoughts, gossamer spun between shaking fingers. Such had proven all too clear for he was one of the first present where those upon the border were concerned, proving joyed at the prospect of meeting another though most towered about a stature small for one his age. It might have been idiocy to allow himself to enter those situations, driven there by a faint want, swirling about the surface of his thoughts, or it could have been for facts held close, so like cards clutched to the chest.

With time it might grow known, information shared freely when he deemed it so, but for now it was hidden, cast aside for a smile.

“Hello...” drawn across his tongue, harsh as throat throbbed with pain, driven too far for Harland held no true idea as to what boundaries he had where it came to his ability to commune, brief was the twist of pain before a smile settled once more. Yet the golden eyes showed something different, lacking where it once had before – confusion tinged with worry. This was the second to pass their borders within in such a state, downtrodden and seeking shelter, amongst more wants, speaking in ways strange to the child.

For a brief moment he wondered if it best to turn, allow the others to handle things here for already were the questions asked, before small paw finally touched the earth, step completed after it had been left hanging for a few beats. Another was completed, and the next, until the darkly toned child was filling the empty space next to Hazel, the want to lean into her, press against her side and feel her warmth, barely withheld. He had grown worried, fearful of the state she was present within but she seemed to grow better with each day, allowing herself a chance to continue her life though grief weighed her heart.