vanish // joiner

[mae]

tags

The good thing about having nothing and no one meant that one could do whatever they want. There was nothing holding them down, and nothing they could lose. Either they stayed in one place, or went the only direction: up.

Mae was in that exact position. For the longest time, she had nothing but everchanging scenery and forgotten trinkets to keep her company. It wasn't as lonely as it sounded, but still, that was no way to live. It'd be a waste to spend the rest of her days on her own, with no real sense of purpose. So, she finally abandoned the days of solitude, and set off into the great unknown.

Eventually, she found herself in a mucky swamp of a group she couldn't quite remember the name of. How long had she'd been walking? Mae couldn't quite tell. Until they accepted her as one of their own, though, she wasn't going to bother stopping. She wasn't one for formalities, anyways, so she disregarded the border entirely. They'd have to forgive that. Eventually.

"Hellooo?" she called out, in attempt to get some attention, "Anybody home?" She continued to tread deeper into their territory without waiting for a response. It was only a matter of time before they found her.

//aghh sorry if this is a mess, been forever since i've written one of these.

[beck.]

[align=center]

    Unlike Mae, his morning had been expended leisurely, although he might have preferred aimlessly walking in search of acceptance if he wasn't intent on catching lunch for his dearest friend. For more than a couple hours now, Beck waded in the shallows of the swamp, peeking under rocks and lilypads for the elusive crustacean he hunted for. His fur up to his shoulders was matted with murk and plant debris, and not to mention sopping wet as well, but his efforts were rewarded. A tin bucket balanced precariously on a nearby rock, partially filled with wriggling crawfish -- at least until a shout from close by caused him to heavily flinch just as he was about to drop another catch into the bucket, knocking the bucket and tipping its fortunate contents back into the water. "No, no, no!" came the strangled whine from the boy as he frantically attempted to recover any freshwater lobster he could, yet they all managed to slip from his grasp and disappear into the cattails in a cloud of dust. The poltergeist flopped onto his haunches, an expression both crestfallen and stunned settling over his scarred features. His woes quickly turned to blame as he heard the girl call out again, grabbing his attention and warping his bewildered pout into a scowl. Snatching up his now-empty bucket and tossing the only crawfish he still had in his clutches into it, Beck pushed himself to his feet and clambered onto the shore, not bothering to shake away the water and mud clinging to his apparition.

    As soon as he could see her tall figure, Beck crept from the brambles with a snarl splitting his disfigured snout, dropping the bucket at his feet. "D'ya have any idea --" his words broke off into a harsh coughing spell, yet he continued once he regained himself, albeit heavily wheezing. "D'ya have any idea what you've done?" the little ghost fumed, his apparition distorting as he hissed at the stranger. "You cost me a whole morning's worth of crawdads, that's what you've done!" His false southern accent slipped the more he seethed at the newcomer until his speech splintered into an unrecognizable jumble of other voice. Realizing this, he sucked in a hoarse inhale to regain himself before rasping in an emotionless tone, "You're gonna help me get 'em back." With that statement, he abruptly lashed out to grab her arm, seeking to drag her towards the pond he previously lurked in. He didn't mean to be rough with her, yet his claws could snag on her skin or he could yank her arm hard enough to dislocate something. Well, the latter was unlikely, but he witnessed it before.

[deimos]

Oh, if only tongue lashings could make Beck back down.

Sam felt bad for this joiner. She really did- she only came to these borders to try and join in with Tanglewood's rocky set of family members, a damaged smoker, a crybaby, a poltergeist, dogs who smell like shoe polish- the whole lot, it kept going on and on. But Beck? She had no remorse for him. He had burned her vice, the one thing she was grateful came with her from the other world, the Grey world. He had taken it and ripped it away from her, and the only thing he could do about it was sulk. And fish, apparently.

So the instant she heard shouting- specifically of Beck's own kind- the doecat was running. She ignored the pain in her side from where Miko pushed her, paws digging into the dirt. She bore her antlers. This time, she wasn't breaking down. She was one pissed of Doecat, having to ration what Crow gave to her in the way of smokes. "Get your fucking paws off of her-" She shouted, before aiming to barrel right into [member=67]beck.[/member] This, hopefully, would deter him from grabbing the joiner.

And at this point? Sam couldn't care less how much she hurt Beck. This shit pissed her off- it wasn't another Dean situation, where she let it go and warmed back up to him. No, this definitely wouldn't end in forgiveness.

"SPEECH"

♡♡♡
tags

[toboggan]

In the event of a joiner, it was customary to put on a display of nonsensical chaos. That’s what Tanglewood was all about, after all - total disarray, the refusal of bowing down to the authoritarian standards set in stone by society. A haven for the unruly, one could take up residence within the swamp’s territory without the fear of overstepping restrictive rules. In fact, only one rule existed that the guardsman could clearly recall - do not cause harm to another Tangler without a proper reason. And, as thankful as he was for Sam and Beck showing the new face the Tangler way, her attack came off as rather irrational. It made sense for her to lash out at him before, the little cigarette-igniting bastard deserved it at the time; but now, it was beyond appropriate.

He was still a child, after all.

"That’s enough, guys," a third voice beckoned, the speaker slowly approaching the trio before him. Beck, who wasn’t innocent in the slightest, soon became the recipient of a trademarked Leroy glare. Assuming that his behaviour wasn’t improving by the next time the poltergeist spoke, then the hound would really get on his case.

It was then that he emerged as the first to offer the stranger a welcoming approach, shooting her a rueful smile neath his unkempt facial fur. "I’m Leroy," he abruptly introduced, "and this is Tanglewood. Mind the difficult duo, here," he’d briefly nod in the direction of the woman and the boy, "they’ve both been a li’l obnoxious lately."

"Wha’s your name, then?” Leroy finally asked, a feeble attempt at a grin sprouting across his extremities.