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rhosmari · 11-15-2018, 02:09 AM

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[glow=#000,1,400]NOT CAUSE I'M BUSY, I JUST DON'T GIVE A FUCK — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

[div style="width: 480px; height: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 13px;"]This was supposed to be simple run but then again he should have known that nothing was ever simple. Especially with the experience had underneath his belt. They never had things go utterly correctly but they always had back plans, plans for other plans and they just learned to improvise on the fly. So why didn't he think that this could go wrong. Well, because he thought thought he could be sly but he wasn't the type of sly that Golden Boy was. He didn't have honeyed words but he could be quiet persuasive when he wanted to be. All he wanted to do was get in and steal some shit, didn't matter if he needed it or not. He just wanted it and if they had stuff to take then he would surely just take a little cut of it. After all from leaving one place to go and do some exploring and finding this strange little town in the middle of a swamp he was sure they'd have something. Even if the place smelled like the a horse's ass. Which was terrible by the way. He'd been so careful to not stir up trouble and even so he hadn't factored in that someone would be out or even awake so late at night. It just came to pass really and he couldn't have any witnesses or they would likely rat him out. Treat everyone fairly and with him everyone had an equal chance to be killed.

He was pretty sure Vagabond would have been pissed off if he knew how he had slipped up but eh, sometimes shit happened and he couldn't just let things go that easily. Well, he hadn't exactly came here to kill someone but hit and runs were under his repertoires to do. Couldn't have her seeing anything, telling anyone anything. He'd been silent for the most part on creeping up on her and when he saw her eyes he realized she was blind but she'd still heard him, smelled him. Animals did that much he knew and he had to make a quick decision then and there or else he risked discovery. A fight soon broke out between him and the woman and to say the least he had to quickly put her down. But she got a hell of a couple of good licks on him. Sounds of savage snarls and yowls lit up the night air. Even so he was bigger than she was and overpowered her once he got the hang of where the fight was going. They didn't call him the Brawler for nothing and he easily pinned her down and dragged his claws right across her throat. Blood spilled out freely upon the border and he backed up, dual colored eyes uncaring as he turned away.

Well, things went wrong for a reason and he sided as he shoulder his sack before he pulled out some spray cans. Paint was fun to use and he sprayed using his prehensile tail to help him out. The smiley face against the ground with orange and purple paint before he shouldered everything and turned from the scene. Even with the pain of fresh scratches and bites on his body he felt pretty chipper. But that was normal, this was his normal. Him, Vagabond, Golden Boy, they would all free pretty happy even if they had just murdered a bunch of people because it was their life. Their norm. He high tailed it out of there to head back to his camping grounds still a little disappointed that he hadn't been able to get any valuables.

-- rimmy's calling card has been left near delilah's body. a purple and orange spray painted smiley face with the faint scent of the rosebloods

[member=1277]DELILAH.[/member]

~~DELILAH.~~ · 11-15-2018, 04:39 AM

Delilah Evergarden
tanglewood - medic | 19 m/o | femme | blind

//TW for Blood/Gore, Flashbacks, and Mentions of Trafficking/Slavery. I'm not sorry.

It had happened so suddenly- maybe it was her fault for walking in on a fight or whatever was happening- she could smell the bad scent in the air, and Delilah's mind went into overdrive. A male, a male was.. Here, on the territory. Delilah had kicked into defense the moment she heard shifting, a soft 'shit' leaving the male's throat, making her flinch. Flashes of memories flickered through her head, and she knew Renegadeanthems would feel the distress running through her system.

Next thing she knew, she had been ran into, the larger body pinning her to the ground. She didn't want to die- She couldn't die- Not now, not now. She still had to tell Renegade how she felt, she had to tell Morgan just how much he meant to her, she had to thank Vigenere, she had to hug Arrow more, she had to comfort Leroy- she didn't understand why it had to be now.

The Earth Mother couldn't take her now, but maybe it was only right. After all, she was always destined to die a horrible death, but Delilah had decided, while the male had pinned her to the ground, that she wouldn't go down without a fight. Blind or not, the girl was still sure she could fight if her life was on the line.

Her black wings had spread out under her, staining the muddy ground with black ink-like ichor, as loud yowls ripped from Delilah's throat, a furious sound, one that was foreign to her. She had lashed out with every bit of strength she could, using her only back leg to try and push the larger male off of her. She wouldn't be enslaved again, she wouldn't go down without a fight- she had to fight!

Move, body, move!

Delilah's pink form was struggling underneath the male, and she knew she had been exhausting herself- especially with the fact that she wasn't trained to fight. She was trained to heal, she wasn't good at fighting- but she could just tell, this male had years of training under his belt; she stood no chance. Still, she fought. And fought. And fought.

Until it had finally ended with a victor, Delilah choking on her own blood as her throat was clawed open, her pale pink eyes widened in fear and shock and.. She couldn't even explain it completely. Everything was black already, she couldn't see anyways, but something about dying blind made everything so much more painful. Soft choking filled the air, the faint smell of blood surrounding her, dying her cherry blossoms with red and crimson igor. Pain. It hurt, so so much. But what could she do?

Hypovolemic shock kicked in, her heart not able to keep up with the amount of blood she was loosing, and the girl found her paws slipping down the man's arms, struggling to breathe despite the fact that everything hurt. She was dying a slow, painful death, and maybe it would have been better if she had fought to save someone, like everyone else.

//Currently, she's going through shock from blood loss. She will die, but very slowly; she is still conscious. She'll officially die in my next post on this thread. ^^

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toboggan · 11-16-2018, 06:18 PM

Obligations around these parts had just taken a turn for the better. Almost the entirety of the spooks which terrorized the glades over the entirety of last month had vanished (barring that friendly one which made a home out of his jukebox), and the Tanglers had returned home from a more-than-welcoming Sunhaven to find that the stomping grounds were largely unaffected by its temporary ill-favoured ghastly residents. No sooner than a week later, and the General had already organized a slew of events to improve the town’s neighbouring conditions. Not only that, but a far-fetched influx of new faces had turned up, greatly improving Tanglewood’s previous status as a dwindling family. A definitive sensuality of blistering nostalgia overwhelmed the mutt like a forest fire in dry season, for the current setting mournfully reminded him of his early days in the tribe - a booming population, unique personalities, and likeable faces. The feeling was a bittersweet one, as Leroy realized that this meant prior individuals such as Malphas, Abathur, and even Ophelia, all were being replaced by the folks of tomorrow.

That last thought caused him to wonder, what if the very same fate that befell the aforementioned names happened to him? What would happen to those around him if he had suddenly died? Would they care? Would they falter? Not that he cared about his own well-being, of course; but, if he ever languished enough to negatively affect any of his comrades, Leroy would certainly be inordinately gutted.

Unkempt paws conveyed his lanky frame through the underbrush, each footstep following a stable rhythm. It was known to some that the male enjoyed these walks, on which he thought over the decisions he made, and about the many affairs transpiring in the odd world that he lived in. Though the abundance of joiners was a pro for the clan, their presence also meant that Tanglewood wasn’t any time soon going to revert to how tight-knit all the established Tanglers had become. And he pondered on those who had left, and what would happen once he left, himself. And yet, the thought of anybody current dispersing never once traced his mixed mentality.

The smell of blood was a metallic twang that the mutt had gotten used to over the years; the source of it either coming from his own wounds, or from the poor sap that Leroy had just beaten to a pulp. However, today’s scent was very... different. It was as if blood had a very distant cousin, a cousin from another country, who spoke another language. Luckily for the mongrel, he, too spoke the language that the exotic fluid had to speak. To Leroy, the blood had cried out, ”yeah, she’s getting killed over here”. Not one to distrust liquids, the hound switched his strut to a soft trot, then to a jog, and finally to a desperate scramble (his unkind mind had implemented theories on whom who had just been attacked, each thought adding another layer of speed to his movements).

Now, he stared over her. His amber eyes calmly examined the pink feline’s truncated figure, whilst his heart beat profusely. He had to keep his cool. He had to keep his cool. ”You have to keep your cool, man,” Leroy believed the blood to have said in reply.

She still seemed to stir. That was good. Poor blind Delilah was not dead. Yet. Beside her lay a decal, one apparently crafted from a fine paint can. Intriguing. The sprayed picture, along with the fact that the feline was practically rendered defenceless on account of her blindness, put an inkling into his mind which suggested that this was a planned attack of sorts, not some spontaneous brawl.

It was a dirty move to prey on the disabled, a dirty move which he’d never have committed even in his wildest days. An act of which would need repayment.

"Who did this to ya?" the hound mumbled, the question so grim it was devoid of any tone whatsoever. Whoever it was, he’d make sure to eviscerate them, maim them only to have them succumb to a slow demise, instead of putting his target out of their misery. Delilah is- Delilah was innocent of any act which would bring upon her a fate like this. She deserved none of it. She deserved better. She deserved retribution. As the crippled femme was the clan’s only medic, Leroy called not for aid. Loud noises could do more harm than good for her. Instead, he’d just stare, requesting one last answer from Delilah before she collapsed to an inevitable fate.

Morgan · 11-18-2018, 02:25 AM

It felt like it had only been a day or two since the small family had rescued their beloved Medic. Morgan refused to believe at first that the dwindling aura was hers, but he had to check anyway even if only to quell his worry. Taking cautious but quick steps toward his destination, he considered how he would react upon seeing her. In all honesty, he was unsure. Yes, he had trained himself to let life work however it did, but would he really be able to accept what he was about to see? He had done well enough when Whisper died, but he had spent so much more time with Delilah. He had even considered taking the Medic under his wing as a trainee in the art of the elements considering her unique ability, but...

The General finally happened upon the scene. Leroy was already there, it seemed; clearly he had run much faster to get there. Beside him was a near-dead Delilah.

"A... Delilah...?"

Morgan gasped out, feeling a very uncomfortable warmth somewhere in his chest. The smell of blood was everywhere, accompanied by a mild scent of the Rosebloods.

"Rose...bloods."

His breathing became more ragged. His vision almost lost focus, but he steadied himself as he stepped toward the Medic. He was used to death enough to be able to get close, but the sheer shock of seeing Delilah in such a state made it much more difficult.

"Leroy?"

asked the samoyed, his muzzle nearly touching the pink feline's chest.

"What... what should we do?"

He wanted so badly to just close up the wounds, to at least keep Delilah's blood flowing correctly from the inside until they could tend to her with tools. He wanted so badly to use his powers and prevent that which seemed inevitable, but he could not. He would not use such abilities on a living body so long as there was a chance to seriously hurt them.

"I'm sorry, Delilah. I'm sorry. I should've been there for you. I'm so, so-"

The General choked on nothing before he could finish. He felt himself shake until his legs finally gave out, and he landed on the ground below. With his face resting lightly on the dying Medic, he whispered,

"What can we do...?"

He wished he could let tears out as they did in his favorite books, but he found nothing. His eyes were dry no matter how hard he tried; only his shallow breathing indicated anything about his mood.

"Delilah-?"

~~DELILAH.~~ · (This post was last modified: 11-19-2018, 06:17 AM by DELILAH..)

Bumping one last time before I reply tonight!

EDIT: YEET, I'LL REPLY TOMORROW WHEN RAIDEN REPLIES WITH RENEGADE. PREPARE FOR A REALLY FUCKIN' LONG MUSEFUL POST FROM RIRI BC SHE LIKES MAKING PEOPLE SUFFER WITH FLOWER GIRL'S DEATH.

arrow · 11-19-2018, 05:02 AM

[glow=black,1,400]DID I HIT THE SPOT, PISS YOU OFF, MAKE YOU A FOOL IN FRONT OF EVERYONE — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

Arrow was not well versed in damning situations like this. She was of course the lighthearted one, the one that carried a lopsided smile but not much else was on record besides being a general nuisance. Personal connections weren't often made, or at least they didn't last, Stocking and Malphas were gone after all. But even that paled in comparison to how she was feeling now.

Delilah had done nothing wrong, her innocence had persisted even when she was so cruelly mistreated and abused over time and yet here she was, attacked by some god forsaken creature carrying the Roseblood name. That is what she caught scent of after all. Bastards. Did they know? Was this planned? Yeah, yeah, kill the medic, such a fantastic battle plan wasn't it? It felt too coincidental to be an accident. What was the meaning behind it all?

"Delilah!" She hadn't witnessed the attack, nor did she really pick up on the specific scent beyond the metallic sting of blood, but with the mournful sounds of those already there, Arrow could pick up on what the commotion at hand was currently about, and in horror she came to realize it was nothing short of a nightmare made reality. She couldn't be....dying. They'd just rescued her! She'd survived.

She was a dirty, filthy waste of air and flesh for showing up so late. Early enough and she could have stayed longer through what were undoubtedly the final moments, earlier still and she could have maybe taken her place. She should have been in her place, she had escaped too much and had sins up the ass. But no. She was standing here, breathing and unharmed, and Delilah was dying.

She brushed Delilah's cheek with her paw, the fur along her spine raising, or at least as much as it could, as the sight of blood and soft pink fur mixed together, it was disgusting. "Delilah, you can't just leave like this. Who's gonna help me when I run into a wall or somethin'?" She tried to make a joke, but it came out pained and pathetic. "You can't go, Flower Girl! You're the only family I got!"

cavalrychoir · 11-19-2018, 10:08 PM

[align=center][div style="border-width:0px; width: 60%; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 8.5pt; line-height: 140%;word-spacing:-1px;"]//quietly slithers in

Ren knew... He knew this day would come. It was stupid to try to avoid something like death but somewhere deep inside him, a small voice kept him hopeful. It was a tiny, barely noticeably voice that told him she was impervious to death. He knew it was stupid, and it wasn't like him to entertain such a childish thought but imagining her pastel fur stained with red and sightless magenta eyes completely lifeless shook him to the core. He has felt fear many times and more than that he was the cause of other's fears... Nevertheless, no amount of bloodshed, chaos and anguish could ever prepare him for something like this. She just- she couldn't die, you know? She was too strong to die- another childish thought. No one was "too anything" for Death; he had no favourites. But she can't- he was desperate, alright? These emotions, these feelings, everything was new to him and thanks to her, he was able to slowly explore and understand them without feeling guilty. Without feeling as though there was a secret motive even he was unaware of. Granted, he was still scared his emotions weren't real and he was using her just to make himself feel better, but the pain in his chest was very much real. At first small annoyance that turned into him struggling to catch his breath as he pondered over it more. Every time the subject of her demise crossed his mind, amidst the other emotions, he'd grow furious with himself for contemplating such a cruel thought. Nothing good ever came out of it, though it did fortify his resolve to protect her. Protect her, huh? Laughable. If he truly wanted to keep her safe, he wouldn't be standing before the bush he shot out of, chest heaving and claws unsheathed as dark red eyes stared at the maine coon in disbelief.

He had known something was wrong from before she was injured though paid it no mind. After the painful headache, the wildcat was awakened to new powers such as his enhanced senses - that he could not control very well - and conjuration as well as a pair of small, mound-like horns that sprouted from his forehead. They were new to him and he more respect for those with abilities as they are a pain to fully understand and get under control. Taking into account his body becomes odd when he discovered his powers, he took his uneasiness as a key to unlocking another ability. At least, that's what he thought. Soon enough, uneasiness gave way to panic as his heart began to race wildly in his chest, which in turn gave way to confusion. There was nothing around to instigate such a response so why was he so on-edge? Was something bad happening he didn’t know about? Was something bad about to happen? Pointed ears struggled to listen but when he found the founds around him grew fainter, he growled and decided to use his eyes instead. As he stared into the distance, a growl of frustration rumbled in his throat when the colours only bled and blurred together. If that display didn’t give it away by now, he wasn't used to having powers yet. As a bobbed tail lashed behind him, permanently stilted optics shifted around as Ren took a seat, his breath growing raspy and strained. Something was wrong... He didn't feel right and decided it would be best to confide in Delilah. Delilah! He gasped as he abruptly leapt to his paws and sprinted off.

How could he have forgotten? The memories and sensitive information they shared and the awakening to their bond; the unspoken connection on a much deeper level than he anticipated. Could he really be blamed though? Nothing between them has changed aside from being able to share memories via touches to the forehead and- and emotions. She was in danger. As soon as this realization hit, he heard her voice as well as growling and spitting coming from every which direction. He could not keep trailing a voice that sounded like it was all around him. Stopping, he bit down hard on his lip as he squeezed his eyes shut, silently begging for his ability to work. It was find if it never worked again, he didn’t care if it never worked again. Right now, his only wish was to get to Delilah on time. Unsheathed claws gripped the mud below him as he strained to focus. Forcing it into one focal point was impossible at his level and the limited amount of time he was working with, but he was able to detect the direction it was coming from. An angered hiss slithered out of his maw as dark eyes reopened; he had been going the wrong way. Turning himself around, she sprinted in the other direction only to stop mid-bound when an immense pain shot through his neck, earning it a pained and confused cry in pain. Mouth parted, he struggled to remain upright as he tried to force air back into his lungs. He can still run- he was terribly short of breath and gasping for air, but he could still get to her on time if he hurried.

What a joke.

Standing before the bush, gasping for breath and covered in leaves and twigs, the bulky wildcat stared at Delilah for a second before a panicked expression overtook his disbelief. It took the sight of blood to make him realize the scent of iron in the air. His limbs felt like jello but he couldn’t afford to stop and stare now. Why wasn’t anyone doing anything? Standing over or crouching beside her wasn’t going to help! He knew with an injury like that, there wasn’t much that could be done but he wasn’t the one for thinking rationally. He kind of… Shoots now and aims later and right now, he wanted to shoot everyone. Sprinting over to them, he fell at her side with an ungraceful thump. It was hard to do anything when he was in pain and struggling to breathe, but he could only imagine how Delilah was feeling. "Delilah! Delilah, everything is okay." A lie. Everything wasn’t okay but hopefully that tricked both of them into thinking it was. Closing his eyes, he tried to conjure a cloth to press to her neck. He hissed when he opened his eyes to see a book and he immediately tossed it to the side. This time, he didn’t bother to close his eyes as he pictured a rag in his mind. Seconds later a mug appeared before him and with a vengeful snarl, he threw it against a tree. The impact shattered the clay and as all the pieces fell to the ground, a rag had manifested and dropped at his paws. Breathing heavily, he pressed the rag to her wound and watched as the cloth quickly absorbed it. She was losing blood at an alarming rate and it wasn’t long before the rag was soaked. Conjuring another, Ren pressed it to her throat again as another clean rag stood on standby. "You are going to be fine. I will- we will get you p-patched up and-" he choked, unable to finish his sentence as his attention was torn from her and now focused on the rag saturated with blood. Taking the other one, he pressed it to her neck again in desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. He knew it was a fruitless task but there was always a sliver of hope that it would be just enough for her to pull through. But what if it wasn't? No... She was going to make it. She had to.

She absolutely had to.

Please don't go.

~~DELILAH.~~ · 11-19-2018, 11:24 PM

Delilah Evergarden
tanglewood - medic | 19 m/o | femme | dark faerie

//Get ready for an emotional rollercoaster, yall. This is a lot, so I'll be separating it all into parts for each of the characters whom arrived.

Delilah never liked the taste of blood, to be honest. She never knew why vampires adored the copper taste, or why they even hunted in the first place. When she ate, it was rare, but normally in the form of cleaned meats free of blood- Renegade had taken up the chore of making sure she ate after her last starvation period that made her pass out. It wasn't fun. Well, that wasn't to say this was fun, either.

She was choking on her blood slowly by the time Leroy arrived, his tone hushed but she could hear it. She could hear it clearly. She felt her heart thump roughly in her chest as he leaned to ask her the question. Who did this to her- she couldn't see who it was. The smell should have been obvious, but she didn't want to be mean and not answer him. "Rosebloods.." She choked out, her paws shaking as she could just smell the frustrations bubbling up in the canine. The blind feline didn't dare to move just yet- she was unsure of how deep her wound was, but she was sure moving without thinking first would lead her to bleed out faster. She could stay a little longer if she begged the Earth Mother.

She never did anything wrong. It wasn't her fault that she was destined to die like this- it was fate that she had to endure all of this pain. She was meant to die a terrible death- it was predicted the moment she was born without wings. Impurity, disgusting, a monster. It wasn't her fault that she had been born.

She would have continued to try to comfort Leroy, but he didn't seem to say anything else, and she slowly blinked in understanding. A soft, choked cough left her mouth as Morgan arrived, her fur staining with crimson igor and sticking to her skinny form. She wished she had found someone to be her apprentice- she found herself facing the other canine as he walked over, laying his head on her dying form, but she didn't seem to mind, a look of apology flashing past her blind, pale pink irises. She could smell the sadness radiating from the fluffy canine, and found that her tail had moved to gently brush against the male's head, as if shakily trying to comfort the leader of the clan that adopted her.
"Now, now.." She sputtered, inhaling through her nose uncomfortably. "This isn't.. How my older brother should be acting, is it..? You know this can't be stopp-ed.. The wound's too.. Deep.." She tried to joke, but found herself trembling in her own fear of dying. Morgan had stopped her from dying once- and now, she knew why he felt so scared again. He was going to lose her this time, he couldn't save her. You can't blame yourself for it.. I'll smack you in my grave if you do..

Then, came Arrow's presence, her reaction a bit different than the others, but Arrow-like in her own right. Jokes- she always tended to make jokes at the worst times. She had been rescued by her best friend after losing her sight- Arrow had been the one to lead her out, to save her while her clanmates kept the Pitt busy. Delilah had been holding back the flow of tears in her eyes up until now, but now she couldn't, her paws quaking with shakes as Arrow begged her to stay. A bitter laugh left the pink felidae's lips, blood sliding out past her lips as she did so. "I'm sorry.." She tried to laugh some more at the joke, but found her limbs growing cold.

Ah, the time was nearing. Her tail dropped from Morgan's head, and she could feel her head pounding- her heart not pumping enough oxygen through her body to allow her to hold up any of her appendages anymore. It was growing nearly impossible to breathe, but she could still feel the faint jab of her bond with Renegade. He was confused, scared, worried about something.

The smell of him was strong against her nose, and welcomed- the smell of burnt embers and elmwood, a smell she had come to love. She could feel pressure on her throat, but it wasn't like she could breathe well anyways- the pressure wouldn't stop the bleeding. He was panicking, she could feel the emotions pick through the numbness she felt from blood loss, from impending death.

She opened her lips to speak, but only more blood sputtered out, so instead she gave him a weak smile, barely manageable with the lack of feeling in her body.

The felidae had closed her eyes to focus on him, on their connection. Their bond. Connecting the two through a telepathic branch, the feline let her eyes close as she focused on getting out her last few words to him. It was a warm feeling, the connection between the two. Her paws had grasped his cheeks mentally, pushing her forehead against his own as she tried to calm him down. "It isn't your fault, you couldn't have stopped this, Renny." She spoke softly, a gentle smile on her face as she pushed her fur into his. She didn't have much time. Glancing up at him, she took a deep breath. "I love you. Every time I look at you, all I can think of is how I want to spend forever with you.. How I want you to stay by my side forever. It wasn't supposed to happen like this.. It wasn't supposed to be as I die, and I'm so sorry, Ren.. I love you so, so much. You are my blessing in life, my breath, the fire in my heart that I could never get enough of.. You're my soulmate, Ren.. I know it, I always knew it." She laughed softly, her voice soon distorting as she felt the line of telepathy break, snapping back into reality.

Her body was stilling, growing cold, and she was using her last amount of strength to use telekinesis to lift her scarf off of her body, filled with her buttons and the strong smell of herbs and cherry blossoms, tying it around Renegades neck loosely, her heart necklace sliding to fall next to Morgan. She wished she could have done more for them, she wished she could found someone to train so they wouldn't be without a medic- it was stupid of her to jump into a fight without thinking.

It had taken a few more seconds, but soon, the maine coon's head fell limp, rolling to the side as she closed her eyes, a peaceful smile on her face.

Delilah Evergarden had died slowly, painfully, but her last moments had been spent with those around her. Those she loved and cared about.

She loved them.

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