( I WONDER WHY : VISITINGish? )

[WANDERER]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]/ longish story short he's just sitting near the bell waiting, no need to worry about length for replies or anything

He couldn't take it anymore. The sun, the sand, the people. Everywhere he showed up, bloodshed seemed to be right around the corner. That or some asshole he didn't want to talk to. There was nothing there for him. Except Butch, which — that's why this won't be a permanent thing, this wandering. He'd give almost anything to never have to go back there, but he knows if he had the opportunity to fix this life, he'd fix more than just that screwed up loyalty to the guy who had made his life hell for so long. He's gotten over their childhood issues, but he hasn't grown past the idea of home and all the other people in there. It wasn't as perfect a picture as nostalgia paints it to be now, of course it wasn't, but he still thinks he would prefer to be there, with all of their strange quirks and power hungry personalities, than out here with murderers. The people in this world, or more specifically in The Pitt, made him sick, but also homesick, and since neither could be easily cured, he finds himself desperate for a break. Val's dusty and tired, already a little past simply searching for some place that makes his mind go quiet.

This probably isn't what he's looking for. Already, he's humid and uncomfortable. His fur isn't as thick as Butch's, but it's still thick enough that he wishes he had none. (Butch Butch Butch, shut the fuck up, he tells himself. He's here to get this stuff out of his head, not deeper in it.) He physically shakes himself as if that would clear his mind any, but when the German Shepherd lifts his eyes a little higher, there's still something troubled there. Maybe that's just his face at this point in his life. His worries never fully leave him. Still, he manages to at least ignore them as he takes in the arch-like thing stretching far above his head. Clear water laps at his paws, cool in comparison to the heat on his shoulders. The worries don't disappear, but everything quiets. Walking along these tracks for an eternity hadn't been his intention, but... better here than the desert and all that. It was worth it now that he was here.

Val can see the train that used to run these tracks, but more importantly, there's a bell. He supposes he should ring it, right? Then worry sets in. The dog smells mostly like dirt and sweat, but underneath that is the distinct smell of The Pitt and he doesn't even know where he is, much less what these people think of those monsters. He'd rather not die now. Eventually, the craving for nonviolent contact winks over, and he slowly stretches up to ring it before settling back down. "Hope that's not an invitation to attack me," he murmurs, mostly joking. Mostly.

[CAESAR CIPHER.]

YOU'RE ATTEMPTING TO BORE ME !

CAESAR CIPHER. MALE. THE TYPHOON. OFFICER.

For Caesar, the bloodshed was nothing. In fact, the demon quite enjoyed the raids that came from having tensions between the clans and liked whenever there was blood drawn, even if it was his own. He believed that bloodshed was a normal part of life and always took the chance to attack somebody whenever he could. Unfortunately, he couldn't really do as much as he wanted, despite The Typhoon's lax rules. He was on thin ice with Pincher, the Captain, and Caesar was careful not to piss the guy off anymore than needed.

Hearing the bell, Caesar changed his direction and headed down the tracks towards the entrance of their island. The Officer had a grumpy look to his face as always, his mouth opened just a bit to get a taste of the air. Whenever the faint scent of The Pitt hit his mouth, he became more alert as he approached the stranger at their border. "I'm gonna give ya ten seconds to answer why you're here." He growled, his black gaze searching Val as if he was looking for any weapons. The smell of The Pitt was faint, hinting that Val had either left the place or just escaped death. Either way, the demon was wary of him and didn't like the idea that The Pitt could have been lured here, whether it be on purpose or not.

#psychosocial.

[FELIKS]

[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width: 60%; font-family: georgial; font-size: 11pt;"]Claiming to be a creature of brains over heart was such a difficult thing to do when that little beating muscle wanted to dictate when he felt emotional over the various issues that plagued the world. For a week it had been of no concern to him, truthfully he could've cared less whether or not some animals were too subservient to bother protecting themselves against their masters. A tragic case of the gryphon being too world-weary to bother with the concerns of others, he'd happily isolated himself whilst dealing with the apathy, Typhoon and confidants be motherfucking dammed. The one time he'd been out, he'd been tortured by ghosts with false narratives and malicious intent to get him to cry... going out again after that had required more guts than he'd like to admit.

With how much energy was wasted on mental matters, it was surprising even to Feliks himself when the wafting stench of the Pitt lit a fire within his belly. His nose wasn't naive, pupils almost narrowed to a paper thin size as a frustration loomed over him. The lion-sized beast pushed through the dark foliage, caring little for how neglectful he was to cover up and be 'stealthy', familiar ring-a-ding of the Typhoon's signature bell doing nothing to quell his temper. A lone leaf whipping him in the face as he pushed himself through to a less overgrown area, emerald eyes instantly loomed over the stranger, nostrils flaring in disapproval. How dare this mutt come here looking so well-fed and collected when he left dozens of slaves to die at home?

Caesar's reaction was too justified for the hybrid to bother telling him to calm down. Talons flexed, a guttural sound emerging from an aggressively parted beak, primal instincts to protect his freedom sank in as the Striker began to pace. Wings were spread in efforts to make himself seem even bigger, a paw stomping into the ground every once in a while - it took a lot to let the bastard live. A crow eventually flew in, landing between the gryphon's shoulders and holding tight onto the muscles as the male sulked. "Nine... eight... seven..." he counted down, almost tauntingly.

[WANDERER]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]Taking enjoyment from another's pain is never something that Val would understand. Though he loves adrenaline as much as anyone else, knocking around a room until there are bruises and a strange jittery feeling in his limbs. There's something about seeing someone with blood on their face that's exciting, but something horrifying about seeing them still. He's a doctor's son and a doctor himself — his first instinct is always to check for a pulse. Killing someone would never feel good to someone who always did what he could to heal and help. He would never want to admit to making the same mistakes that Feliks had, but he put too much of himself into everything he did to go solely by logic. Logically, maybe some creatures did deserve to die, and maybe, in the moment, he would do it. But in practice, he could never do it. He wanted to hide and stop caring and just be nothing, feel nothing, but he couldn't.

That's why he was here, after all. Heart and head both a little too full.

Val drives the count down to three just staring at them, nonchalant and bored even though his heart starts to race a bit in his chest. He wasn't here for a fight, verbal or physical, despite his attitude. "I needed a break," he finally spits out, sounding strangely desperate for something so simple. "I'm from The Pitt. Everyone there —" The dog pauses and shakes his head, lifting a paw to swipe it over the side of his face. Blunt claws pull at his fur and he sighs. "I don't need to go anywhere, or stay for long. Don't even need food, I just... needed to talk to people." Yeah, that sounds stupid. Like when he used to wake up his dad in the middle of the night to ask about his mom, how he made him repeat the same few stories over and over. This was for comfort, plain and simple. For the reminder that not everyone in the world would put a collar on another just for fun. It still sounds stupid.

[bubblegum]

[Masie]

Goldie was the animal taking care of little CC thus detecting those negative scents coming from her again, instantly got the attention of the raptor sleeping in her nest near the border. Masie jolted up, kicking up some of their nest as she speed from it, leaning her body forward in order to accelerate to a speed that would be dangerous if she wasn't a raptor. When she burst into the clearing all that could be seen of her was a brown blur that skidded to a stop in front of Goldie, snapping it's narrow head towards the thing in the other females sights. "THREAT BACK!" she didn't want to see the older female on the ground not asleep again! Masie was positioned right in front of Goldie with her mouth slightly opened, front claws touching the ground, mouth slightly opened as she hissed sharply in warning, taking a step back to make it doubly clear she would lunge without second thought if he came anywhere near the female she stood in front of. Not that she could actually fight him, a good part of the group by now would be savy to the fact she couldn't even properly hunt for herself yet, much less fight something larger than her. Yet, all someone outside of the group knew she was a mini raptor. No one would hurt CC's mother, not on her watch!

[OWEN.]

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The sound of Masie's screeching was what made Owen move, the words 'threat back' making his sharp spines tingle in anger as he stood up, the indominus rex pushing his way through the trees to reach the scene. Sharp talons tapped against the ground as Owen watched everything go down, before his body moved around Wanderer, standing off to the side, a single amber eye harsh and calculating as he sized up the male whom had been here.. Just to speak.

"Go get your therapy elsewhere. We've had too much shit go down with the Pitt already, we don't need it here." Owen finally spoke, parting his massive jaws to allow a growl to escape his throat. With a side glance towards Masie, Owen felt his chest puff out just a bit. He was proud of Masie for defending Golden and the others, and he wasn't going to stop her.

"Just say the word, and me and Masie will chase him out, Caesar." Owen rumbled softly to the higher ranking male, his body showing anything but friendliness to the 'visitor'. It radiated pure aggression, a thirst for blood against those who had created such chaos in his clan already.

TAGS • THE TYPHOON • 27 M/O • GERMAN SHEPHERD | INDOMINUS REX • #RAPTORFAM

© LEXASPERATED

[WANDERER]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]"I'm not fucking with those assholes." The words snap like thin ice, sharp, melting shards. The dog's shoulders are tense, equally as defensive as the stranger who had first accused him. Like her, all he wants is to stay away from the place and never go back. None of these people were hearing a word that he had to say. He needs a conversation, not their fear. Some part of his heart hardens a little bit, but the small dog doesn't back down even with the appearance of... things, creatures, strangers — those are the only words he knows how to describe the new people with. Were he a cat, his tail would be lashing behind him, but as a dog all he can do is clench his teeth. "And I'm not here for therapy." Val forces himself to breathe, though it's a little bit shaky. The tension doesn't fade like he wanted it to, and desperation instead begins to rise in its place. His chest feels tight and breathing is hard, like something sitting on his chest.

"I'm only there because some asshole there enslaved my friend, alright?" Once the words are out, wobbling and soft, he starts to relax a bit. Anxiety rests in his neck and the pit of his gut, every muscle still tense but now more afraid than angry. "I'm just there until I can find a way to get him out. If you really want me to go, I'm gone, but don't you dare call me one of those — monsters." When he first wandered out into the world, he knew right away that nothing was as good as it was supposed to be. Freedom was supposed to be a brilliant thing. Sure, the sun on his back felt great, and the first time he'd seen the ocean, his breath had been taken away. But freedom meant the freedom to make bad decisions too, to do bad things and defend those actions. It gave room for all the wrong things to grow in someone's heart, and the more he wandered, the more he saw just how corrupting freedom could be. And he's tired now.

His tension's gone now, and Val still sits where he had after first ringing the bell, looking a little deflated. It takes a cold reminder that everyone here was just looking to take care of their own too before he manages to get everything back under wraps and look up again. "Forget it, I'll keep walking."

[CAESAR CIPHER.]

YOU'RE ATTEMPTING TO BORE ME !

CAESAR CIPHER. MALE. THE TYPHOON. OFFICER.

There were others coming along by now, though Caesar paid no mind to his crewmates as they arrived, though he did take note of everybody's words. "Damn right you'll keep walking." The savannah hissed in response, making a small clicking noise with his tongue before attempting to aim a fireball at [member=2345]WANDERER[/member] 's face. It was more or less a warning, but the demon was aiming to hurt the visitor. It's been a while since he's really hurt anybody and honestly, it felt great to just attempt burning somebody's face off.

Regardless if his attack succeeded or not, Caesar drew back into the ground, spitting black blood out of his mouth. The fireball in his throat caused his throat and mouth to blister and burn a bit, though he stared back at Val with cold eyes, waiting to see what would happen next. If Owen sent his raptors after the guy or somebody else attacked, he didn't care. That was his signal to chase the guy off.

#psychosocial.

[PEPPINO]

[align=center]

"If none of you can be bothered to do more than foam at the mouth -for which I'm afraid I don't have a treatment- then leave him alone. He's my friend." Was that the truth? No, but contrary to what he was certain some people perceived, Pip was not lacking in his sharper edges- mostly, they related to the treatment of others. He understood that The Pitt was on awful terms with The Typhoon, but Pip had never believed it reasonable to hate people he had never met, and he was certain not everyone who lived there could be terrible. That wasn't how people worked- they weren't universal, because if they were, Pip would be hurtling threats and posturing aggressively like several of the others here. Goldie was another example of how people weren't uniform in that way. So he wasn't afraid to lie that he knew this canine. It wouldn't make much sense for someone with hostile intentions to simply sit at the border, now would it? And he smelled like herbs, like medicine.

A far better smell than some of the people wandering around The Typhoon.

"He's visiting me. Which you all would know if you learned how to communicate. He shared books." His mismatched gaze was edged, but softened when it returned to the older canine, and Pip smiled lightly. The child walked past the very intimidating brigade, when Caesar spat something unflattering. He could feel the heat at his back, but rather than allow it to follow its intended path, Pip blindly intercepted, leaping forward to push Val out of the way. That was what he meant to do. He hadn't reacted fast enough- not fast enough to get them both out of the way.

Pip had never really felt pain before, nothing more than a few scrapes when he was out learning more plants. This was- he couldn't think, choking on small breaths. Distantly, he recognized he probably wasn't on fire, but it felt like it, skin blistering, and he thought he might be sick. Blue and brown eyes were bright with a wet sheen, and he realized he was on the ground, but he couldn't remember that happening. Pip attempted to move, and the world went momentarily white. He came back to the sound of his own voice murmuring brokenly.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," a fresh wave licked its barbed tongue up his back, "Papa."

[align=right][i]INFORMATION