AND AREN'T I A FOOL ☆ training

[wormwood.]

One of Wormwood's better memories of his Father was when Aethelwulf had taught him how to train. Their relationship had always been extremely strained, and rightfully so, but when the older lion had been showing him new moves to use in battle... that had been when they had both been at their happiest. Sure, the training had never been extremely necessary when he had been a cub, since the pride hadn't really had any large enemies that they were frequently battling with, but it had still been in good fun, and had made sure he was safe even when his parents weren't around – not that they had cared very much whether he lived or died. Beyond a couple of scuffles with smaller hyena packs while he had been growing up, Wormwood hadn't really had to train his fighting chops until he had been on the way to Tanglewood in pursuit of his brother. Several rogues had tried to steal prey from him by being sneaky and attacking him when he wasn't looking, but he had always managed to quite easily deal with them, usually choosing to sling them away rather than killing them. There had been a couple, however, who had been looking to turn him into the prey. Those had been the ones that Worm had put his entire fighting prowess into, bloodying his pelt before moving along.

Now, here in Tanglewood, the only time that the hellhound had shown off his fighting skill had been in the fight against the Pitt. Not that he particularly wanted there to be a bunch of violence happening within the territory, but there were several times where he had wished he had been around to enact violence upon those that had stolen away his clanmates. Still, seeing as he couldn't go back in time and prevent anyone from ever being taken – as much as he desperately wished that he could – there was still something that he could do. Instead of using his fighting prowess to watch over every member of Tanglewood 24/7, the canine had chosen to host a little class that would hopefully end up with a few less people being taken away. Sure, not everybody could really take in every bit of information and use it to protect themselves – and he had a distinct size advantage over some members as well – but this could at least make it a little bit harder for them to be taken, and could even end up buying enough time for somebody else to come and be able to help. That way the damn Pitt could go and rot on their own time, without taking any of their members to rot along with them.

When Worm had first begun putting things together for a little training session, Red had noticed and had come over, seemingly excited to do anything that didn't involve being on bedrest. He had even volunteered to be a mock punching bag for the event, but Worm had quickly expressed his concern about – and denied – the idea. So now, even with a sulky gorilla nearby, the hellhound had seemingly finished preparing for the training session, hoping that some of the members he knew not to be well versed in fighting would come by. Such as Moth, or even the younger members like Roy and Torren. Even if they couldn't participate in any sort of spar. That didn't mean the kids couldn't learn techniques that could possibly save their lives later on. Pulling the last of the sacks of hay over that he had chosen to use as punching bags instead of Red, Worm took a deep breath in before calling out from the middle of the town, his tail wagging behind him, "Hey, anybody who wants to learn some techniques to defend themselves, come over here! I'll teach some basic fighting techniques and stuff, and how to get out of certain surprise holds, that way we can have less kidnappings around here... and yes, I realize that if your opponent is something massive like a dragon, it can be difficult to defend yourself, but these are the bare minimum to make sure people stay safe." After all, he was a chaser now. Part of his job was assisting the clan, and keeping everybody safe was assisting, right? He hoped it was, anyways.

[glow=black,2,300]YOUR CHANNEL IS UNREACHABLE[/glow]

[fulzanin]

WE'LL MAKE A WAY WHERE YOU CAN FIND YOUR PLACE
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Feza wouldn’t say that she had the grandest expertise in combat. She knew to use her claws and teeth - thankfully she wasn’t that dense - but that was not all fighting was. Knowing what to use was just as important as how to use it. Feza didn’t know how to use her claws or teeth, her small size, her capability of flight. She’d never really had to fight before. Of course, in a nightmare, she had paid the price for that lack of knowledge.

“The only good surprise is a good party surprise,” the vibrant snow leopard mused as she came over. Her wings were tucked tight by her sides. She was small for a snow leopard, a case of dwarfism. Not that Feza knew that- if anything she would chalk that up as being ‘fun sized’, like candy. Yet she could swear that as a hellhound Wormwood was smaller than her. Feza wished that didn’t bring her comfort- she wished him not being a lion didn’t do the same thing. It made the fear in her heart a lot less pounding, a lot less prevalent, as she came trotting over.

//mobile track of the bee sphere

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THE EMPTY CHAIRS WILL BE RESERVED FOR OUR PITY

[MERGED]

[align=center]

view point: mirror

mirror was far too confident in his ability to fight. if anything, his fighting ability was sub-par, especially considering he could only control half of his body. his brother, who was a coward and a massive baby, had control of the other half. so, when a training session was suggested, he gave a quick glance at image, who's head was low and eyes half lidded in exhaustion from their journey. maybe we should sit this one out, he thought, licking at his own maw.

settling on the side lines, he would lower his side of the body and his brother followed in suit, until they laid on the ground. "i think we'll sit this one up. were both tired from the journey, but im sure watching will help us learn something.. meaning watch, image." the last bit was added quietly, which made his brother's ears pin back and plop his head down onto the ground in disappointment. he didn't care how tired image was, or how much he hurt- mirror wanted to watch the training session.

tags | updated 9/9/19:

"mirror speech"
"image speech"

GENERAL.[/color]
✧ mirror and image | mirrorimage ( when referring to both ), mir, immy
✧ physically 4 years, mentally maturing (mir) and mature (immy) | june 15th | gemini
✧ cisgender | they / them / theirs or he / him / his
✧ tanglewood | tangler | no titles
— [i]while mirror and image share a body, they're two "separate" people- conjoined twins

APPEARANCE.
✧ mutated Siberian husky (ref.) | health: 100% & 10% | birth
— these two boys are actually one boy. born conjoined twins, each person having their own head and personality, however, mirror controlled the left side and most of the organs, while image controlled the right sideand a single kidney, oddly enough. after they turned 2 years old, image had his throat slit by a human, causing in the death of his side of his body, but his spirit wasn't allowed to leave. the right side of the body 'died', but his spirit stayed, meaning the right side continuously began to rot until it was a sickly greenish-brown colour. their back right leg is missing, and in some places you can see through image and see bone thanks to invisibility. image has a good bit of flesh missing, such as holes in his cheeks, ears, and most of his tail fur being gone. they do have two separate tails, however, image has no control over his and it stays limp. mirror's eyes are a bright, icy blue, much like any normal husky's eyes, while image's eyes are an odd milky color mixed with a bit of yellow. you can see many of the veins in image's eyes, and his pupils are completely fogged over.
— blood/tears/sweat color (optional) black blood
— accesories no accessories
— current injuries image is literally a zombie

PERSONALITY.
✧ you may think that these brothers are quite simple, that mirror would be the friendly one, and image would be the horrible and evil brothers.. but its actually switched. mirror seems friendly, but in reality he's very manipulative. mirror will draw you in, seeming friendly and gentle at first, calling his brother the monster and making sure that you feel safe on his side, only to ruin you. he forced his brother's spirit to stay, simply so he could keep on living. image, however, is gentle, quiet, shy. he doesn't like speaking, knowing his brother will simply ridicule him if he does. he speaks so little that many believe that he's mute, or even believe he may just be brain dead- like the zombie he appears to be.

RELATIONSHIPS.
✧ npc x npc | conjoined twins
— adopted by n/a
✧ no family name
✧ hetero ( m ), gay ( i ) | single, looking ( m ) / single, not looking ( i ) | no shipname / no shipname
✧ no friends | no best friends | each brother will try to make their own relationships, but it will eventually becomes very difficult.

INTERACTIONS.
✧ physically medium | mentally hard ( m ) / easy ( i ) | invisibility | no weapons
✧ will start fights ( m ) wont start fights ( i ), easy to provoke ( m ), hard to provoke ( i )| will kill ( both )
✧ no mentor | no apprentice | not at all skilled in fighting but can hold their own if coordinated
✧ allowed to powerplay peaceful actions ( with discretion ) | attack in bolded | mention @/gregory when attacking or if needed

MISC.
✧ mirror sounds like
✧ image sounds like [url=http://]this

BROTHERS IN MORE THAN NAME / ☆☆☆

[arcy]

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[glow=#000,1,400]all you've ever done is been a noose to hang on to — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

[div style="width: 480px; height: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 13px;"]One would think that, as a demon who'd been around for six millennium, Crowley would be fairly skilled in combat. One would be wrong. He could fake it, and he could use those demonic powers of his to give the illusion of a good fight. But Crowley was a coward, and he'd never actually bothered.
It should be noted that Crowley's demonic powers had not been working since he arrived here. This was new info to the serval, and it was, in fact, making him very nervous. Thus, Crowley concludes, it is entirely reasonable of him to want to learn how to defend himself. Now, Crowley can't attest to how well any of the people here knew how to fight, but Crowley could sure as hell conclude it was a hell of a lot better than him.
It was .. embarrassing, though. That he didn't know how to fight -- that he'd spilled the bare minimum amount of blood. Hence why, when Crowley slinks over to those gathered, he says nothing. The serval settles down near the group, head low as he tucks his tail over his paws.
Also, what was that about dragons? What the fuck.

[MAYARI M.]

The painted dog looks pensive as she finds herself wandering over, weary and cautious at the idea of combat but desperately needing the training. The last time she had fought, had actually fought as opposed to hunted, she had been shown no mercy and torn from her realm, cast down to earth with a bleeding eye that has since gone milky and poor. It's still clear on her face that she hasn't forgotten the betrayal—if the bitter snarl on her face isn't indication enough, the scarred white eye that stares at the gathered (albeit blurry) group of Tanglers certainly is.

No, she thinks. If she had remained Diwata, she would have no need of such practices, but she is no longer Diwata, no longer a god; the title has already been stripped from her by that heathen, and she must learn to live in this new world, as imperfect and unappealing as it may be. She figures learning how to fight might also be expected of her—so far, she has done nothing for her new group but to make her own shelter in an abandoned steel structure other Tanglers call a 'hippie van', and with that task done, it's as good a time as any to show the other members that she is not entirely useless.

"Magandang araw, Wormwood." Mayari's voice is tentative, unsure, tiptoeing across the space between them as the painted dog takes a seat closer to the back of the slowly growing group. She wraps her long tail tight around herself and keeps her distance from the other unfamiliar faces, inching only closer to the Hellhound that she, at the very least, knows the name of. Her head is dipped in a way that hides the scarred eye, facing it away from curious gazes. "I might be interested in learning, if that is alright."

[wormwood.]

Four others arrived, two familiar and two – three, technically, if he counted Mirror and Image as two separate entities – mostly unfamiliar, in everything except for name. He had only recently met Mirror and Image, and the only real thing that he knew about Crowley was that he was a fan of plants and gardening, but Feza and Mayari were more familiar. He wasn't too well acquainted with Mayari, nor was he on the best terms with Feza at the moment, but at the very least he knew their faces well. Still, he offered all five of the others gathered around a small smile, toothy thanks to his lack of lips, at least mostly. It seemed as though Mirror and Image just wanted to watch, but for the other three he could already start to figure out things in his head. Feza was larger than him at this point, Mayari was roughly the same size as him, and Crowley was smaller, but the same things could apply if he taught them right, at the very least. Sure, Crowley would probably have the most problems with what Worm was going to teach, since the male was so small compared to the rest of them – not that he would point that out, as it would be rude.

Tail wagging at the fact that people actually showed up for his training sessions, the male blinked at Feza and said with a soft snort, "Well, party surprises are certainly better than attack surprises, especially considering how many people have gotten taken lately. Thankfully Red is back now, and so are Sam and Beck, but we were all worried sick when they were gone, and I think this might help a little with making sure we can all defend ourselves... Mirrorimage, even though you won't be participating, there won't be any real fighting right now, so I can demonstrate things for you to see without any getting sore or hurting." He chuckled a bit before moving over to Mayari, saying softly as he reached a paw up to gently press it against the back of her scruff, being careful not to nick her with his sharp bone claws, "I'm demonstrating on Mayari right now, but this applies to all of us. One of the most common ways that people get taken, especially if they're a smaller species like Crowley over there, is that they get grabbed by the scruff and taken off while they can't get out of the hold." He had to worry more about it now, since he wasn't a massive lion anymore, but this was probably obviously targeted at all of the smaller felines that resided in the clan, like Crow or formerly Moth.

Making his way over to where the little hay bags he had brought out were sitting, he barked softly as he moved to bite down on one part of the bag, "So, pretend that this is one of you, and I'm a pittian, grabbing you by the back of the neck." He demonstrated it quite clearly, before he said with little flick of his paw, a motion to accompany his words, "Now, the obvious instinct when that happens is to try flailing and trying to turn around so that you can dig your claws into your attacker, but usually that doesn't work all that well. So, instead what you should try to do is slam your head into the attacker's face. If you go limp, like you're giving up, and then slam your head up as fast as possible, you can catch them off guard, and you can actually break their nose with your head if you try hard enough. Another way to do that is to swing your head to the side, but generally going down and snapping back up is most helpful. One thing you need to watch out for with that is that... obviously Pittians are pretty ruthless, so if you go limp, they might think that means they can just kill you easily. Now it's doubtful that they'd try to kill you if they were attempting to take you back to the Pitt, but you should still be careful."

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