IT HAS A NAME, IT IS A BEING — joining

[MYERS]

[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-family:verdana;"]Once, Ahab was the name of a king. In another life, Ahab was a fisherman.

Now, with a name that is shared alongside no other, he is only lost.

In the literal sense, he's never too far from the stars to seek out true north, nor shy of running water that'll lead him to high ground or shoreline. The land speaks in hidden ways and he is fluent in their tongue. He appears to wander; it's easy to look lost, stepping through foreign grounds with no trail before him, but he knows what he wants. He knows where he wants to be. It's the part of him that can still ask why that cannot find its way.

This land is not built for a creature such as he. The railroad track is narrow, and his paws straddle either bar of iron with room to spare. The island is but a hill on the horizon, pale shores reaching out like open arms - he gauges a few miles at the least, holding up a claw and comparing it to the horizon line. The view is pleasant, at least, providing respite from the exhaustion of the trek. There's a ship bobbing on the sea, masts jutting out like spines, and a few sailboats bob slothfully with the winter waves. Not too strong - the weather's rather tropical, here - but enough to make the colorful specks drift along the sea at a productive pace.

A few lingering seagulls scatter as he lumbers by. His claws cleave deep tracks into the pebbled ground around the rails, but he seems unbothered by the journey. (The bird droppings underfoot seem to pose no threat to his easygoing mood, either.) It's a few long minutes before he reaches an outpost: a single bell hangs from a pole, a few vines are cleared to make way for a path. With curious, dark eyes, another seagull cranes its neck to look at the unfamiliar beast stepping out of the sand and onto the jungle ground.

Ahab rings the bell. There's no reason why he shouldn't. If it's a trap, he can work his way out of whatever unwelcome guest's anger is wrought upon him - and if not, he is being handed an ample opportunity to be selfish and seek out something better than wandering along train tracks for hours. The bear shoulders his satchel a little, hoisting it higher onto his back. There's nothing in there he could defend himself with. He doesn't need it. Instead, he's tucked a few gull feathers in there, as well as a broken sand dollar he'd nearly crushed underfoot on his way up the beach. It was pretty, so he took it. He'll apologize for the minor theft later.

...Ask and you shall receive, he'd once heard, and he asks by calling out to no one for an answer that will never come.

[Keona.]

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If I fall, get knocked down, pick myself up off the ground

Little rounded ears perked on instinct.  Attentive and familiar with the sound.  A clear sound.  With an easy message to follow.  Follow it, Keona did.  Tiny paws moved through the ever-changing jungle undergrowth with a mission.  Pale hues lit with a tinge of curiosity as she reached the sound, head inclining upwards.  An instinct at this point.  Most, if not all, creatures stood at heights a great deal taller than the petite fae.  But there is simplicity in knowing what to expect.

"Aloha," her soft but clear voice murmurs.  "Can I help you?"

✯ — keona sibéal ní faoláin. female. privateer of the typhoon. blind. rusty spotted cat.  ref. bio.

[ROXANNE R.]

CANNIBAL QUEEN { .:*・°☆ } ——— [size=10pt]info

At the sound of the bell, Roxanne dropped what she was doing at the time before making her way over seeing that Keona was already standing in front of a rather large bear. Her ears twitched a bit at the sight of such a large mammal, she had never seen a bear up in person so this was definitely a first. She felt a smile tugging at her lips as she took a seat next to her blind crewmate only to utter her own words of greeting "Hola," She would let her tail curl around her paws neatly as she took in the features of the grand creature, her whiskers twitching, she heard that they could stand up on their hind legs. She kinda wanted to see that but she figured it'd be rude to ask someone she's never met before to stand on their back legs. Huh. "character's speech."

[ocelot .]

The bell ringing was a familiar sound - to him, the sound of new beginnings, of freedom in the form of the Typhoon. Perhaps that was a little overdramatic, though - it was simpler to just say that the ringing of the bell reminded him of his recent joining, and sparked within him a certain sordid curiosity, a wish to know who was here, why they were here, if he could use them. The normal questions anybody would have for a new person. The ocelot padded over, eyes panning over the scene, taking in Keona, the other Typhooner (by the scent) that he didn't know, and a bear.

It was a bit of a system shock to see it, standing there, placidly, one that made his eye twitch, made him want to grab a knife and defend himself, though he had more self control than that. It wasn't doing anything, after all, and he figured it would be rude to attack someone unprompted, even if they did give him the feeling that he suddenly wasn't safe. Something about that face did not agree with him at all. It reminded him of someone else that he knew a long time ago, a resemblance made uncanny by the fact that that person was dead, and this one was alive. To spite his paranoia, the cat sat down with the rest of the group, saying a small little, "Hello."

tags - "speech"

[MYERS]

[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-family:verdana;"]Faces approach. He does not go tense, though the instinctive urge lingers.

They're friendly - all the better reason to remain calm, even though his thoughts are getting fuzzy and disjointed at the edges. Unfamiliarity is something he is so used to, but still manages to jolt him every time. He focuses on the present, on things he knows: the touch of mulchy soil underfoot. The sound of the beating ocean tide. Syllabic noises escaping throats in languages he cannot comprehend but still deduces a hello from all.

Fear-scent, under it all. It's almost too faint to catch. He stares one-eyed at the ocelot for a few, careful moments. For a second, he looks feral - massive, lumbering body squared at the shoulders, eye as analytical as it is distant and unseeing, claws steadying himself against the earth. Part of him is still a wild animal. Part of him can kill. But he brings himself back, just like the bobbing sailboats in the background are tethered back to the docks at the end of the day. He finds home base. His mind seeks peace and holds it close.

Ocelots always had an odd stink about them.

"Hi." He's got a deep growl for a voice, rough and raspy on the edges. Breathes a little hard, lets the excess carry his words where they're centered low in his chest. "You all live here, right? I'd like to join you, too." He barely knows the name of the place - he remembers hearing a few names for the groups that divided the continent, and whichever one this is, he'll find out eventually - but doesn't mind the mystery. Ahab crooks his expression into a smile, scars on his face stretching to accommodate the brief flash of teeth. (It's almost endearing. The effort, at least, is sweeter than the toothy, fang-bearing outcome.) The grizzly hesitates on his words, then adds carefully, "...If that's alright."

[guts]

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▼ I'M NUCLEAR, I'M WILD ▼

He remembers his early days in the Typhoon, showing up to welcome whatever new joiners there were. He would introduce himself, then that would be it, not much else. He was never too interested in whoever showed up, unless they had something he wanted, or was someone he would have fun toying with. At the thought of that, he was slightly sad that Lemonhead wasn't around anymore to pester. Maybe a replacement would come around soon enough.

Until then, Greed would just find other things to entertain himself, today's entertainment being greeting someone new. Meanwhile there were already multiple people he didn't know yet. Oh well.

The black jaguar trots up, signature smile on his face, and plops down onto his rear. The guy is big but seems like a bit of a pushover, a teddy bear, in a sense. "Yo." he greets him, mock-saluting with a paw. "Sure, you're welcome to join, big guy. The name is Greed. Welcome to the Typhoon." would he stick around, or disappear after a few days like some of the others? Only time would tell.