dramophone — joining

[benji]

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    Well, this was new.

    Then again, almost everything was new.

    Dark eyelashes batted as sunlight met the clammy surface of her features, pinprick pupils staring up at the glowing orb dangling among the clouds. She couldn't remember the last time she was allowed to see outside. And when outside was so... detailed. Was detailed the right word? It probably wasn't. But there was no dictionary around to find a new one. Instead of convenient bookshelves and cabinets, there was a vast expanse of sand, sand, and more sand. What could one person want all this sand for? A gloved paw dipped into the grains, wiggling at the unfamiliar texture as it sifted around her touch. She could remember a touch just as similar -- no, she couldn't. She had no memory of anything but the creators and the walls and what existed within those walls.

    The girl who couldn't remember lifted her paw, watching in silent awe as the sand trickled from the cotton fabric adorning that paw, strands of fur apparent along the unlined edges. Still a vibrant, ginger red, at least. She couldn't endure another redesign. The shift from limited monochrome and voiceless words to bold hues and sound effects had shaken her right down to her bones -- did she have bones? She could remember breaking an arm once, in the yard, trying to climb a tree -- she never climbed any tree.

    Shaking her head to rid herself of the dizzying thoughts, she took a moment to glance over the rest of the body attached to the now sandy paw. Yep, she was still herself. Just a bit furrier than she last remembered. And four-legged. But that wouldn't be a problem!

    The girl-turned-dog tucked her legs beneath her, pushing upward and rising to stand. Fluff-tipped tail wagging slightly, there was no mirror among the sand to show her face. But there was water -- she never liked water. Warily approaching the advancing tides, she craned her neck to peer into a reflection, only to be met with a rippling surface and seafoam rushing up to her ankles. With a hearty squeal, the poodle sprung back, fur on end as though a lightning bolt tore through her in that moment of vulnerability.

    Water had never felt so cold before.

    Straightening to regain her composure for an unseen audience, Benji turned her gaze to behind her, eyes widening at the sight of tropical greenery. A jungle! What was she doing out in a jungle? Was she stranded? Pursing painted lips, she studied the ferns and shadows. Maybe there could be people out there? She could find them, maybe. Unless they found her. After all, she was a colorful rainbow among flecks of beige and tan and brown. Even the legally blind could discern her from a bland background. A shudder raced up her spine, her eyes squeezing shut and poofy ears lifting to shield eyelids further to avoid locking stares with whatever islander watched her. A game of hide-and-seek, right?

    Something rustled out there in the jungle. She audibly gulped, ruffed collar flaring like a cobra while her ears still served as a blindfold.

    Lo and behold, her prediction came true.

[MYERS]

[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-family:verdana;"]There was something about this clan life that jarred him, more so than being drawn-to-life seemed to upset the dog before him. Where his previous existence was set in routine, a constant flow of movement that afforded him appropriate levels of nutrition, activity, and interaction with other living creatures, the Typhoon offered nothing of the sort. Food was scarce, hunted out of necessity. Two-legged humans were nowhere to be found. Affording to speak without being spoken to meant that interactions were voluntary, and he could come and go as he pleased. The white walls of the facility and the sterile smell of intense care were replaced with the peat smell of dirt, the curl of the ocean breeze. To put it simply, Benji was not the only soul who felt lost - though Ahab, on the other hand, lacked the excuse of being a newcomer.

There seemed to be a chance that they'd both feel just a little bit lost for the rest of their lives.

The bear, though, thinks nothing of the source. A stranger on the beach is either a piece of prey or an enemy trained in his sights. His sight - a single, dark eye flickering across the horizon line to assess any other threats, any other bodies - falls harsh upon the brightly colored dog with the decision that this was an intruder. He knew there was a youth population that wandered these beaches, often alone; though they were getting older, smarter, a dog with teeth and claws could kill the cubs that still tripped over their too-big paws from time to time. Emerging from the thickets and entanglement of vines, the kodiak bear lets loose a growl. It sufficed to say that any joiner who was first met by Ahab tended to be put off from their original intentions.

"You're intruding on a beach that isn't yours." He keeps his words clipped, strictly informative. The harsh lines of his face crease downward into a frown. "We have a joining process you have failed to complete. Name yourself, now."

[michael t.]

Michael thought that maybe, in some old and hidden away corner of his mind that he was no longer able to access, that he had once watched cartoons with creatures like Benji. Perhaps when he was just but a kit, hiding away from his tyrannical father's iron fist and dagger tongue, tucked into one of the old human buildings watching ancient tapes that were barely held together by dust. Such technology would nowadays be seen by humans as old news, but Michael had thought of the crappy screen as a gateway into an entirely new world, one where he could be the hero, and he could catch the bad guy – or be the bad guy, more likely.

Although old detective films and decaying mystery movies graced his little projector more often than not, there was the occasional cartoon thrown in when he felt like things were getting too bland. It was always fascinating, seeing the usually anthropomorphic animals bounce around and get into hijinks for the amusement of children. The bobcat might've found it more entertaining back then if the villains of those little stories didn't remind him so much of his father. He could still remember a particularly grainy film featuring a bouncing mouse who seemed on top of the world, all until a big nasty looking cat – or perhaps a bear? He wasn't sure anymore – came along and started shouting and causing trouble. He'd been so petrified he hadn't watched that film ever again.

Despite it having been years since the last time he had actually watched a cartoon, the fugitive found himself hit in the face with a sense of whiplash when he spotted Benji out on the sand. She was so colorful, and the way she seemed to move and look around was so animated... he honestly wouldn't have been surprised if that old cartoon mouse came scampering out of the sea after her. The thief found himself hesitating for a moment, slightly unnerved by Benji's appearance and mannerisms, but then the canine was approached by Ahab, and he knew he had to go over. Roxie might've trusted the old bear with her life, but Michael knew full well that Ahab could be a bit... frightening, especially when it came to first impressions. Sure enough, when he made his way over, jewelry faintly jingling, he arrived just in time to hear Ahab's harsh, authoritative words. Flinching a bit, Michael hastily spoke up from beside the bear, hoping to alleviate the feeling of interrogation, "Uh, hey there, miss. Jesus Ahab, lay off a little, will ya? She looks kinda confused, and I don't think she needs you acting like you're gonna tear her limb from limb."

[glow=#75603C,1,000]" oh, it's a setup, no, no, we won't fall. "[/glow]

[APHRA CIPHER .]

[glow=white,1,400]OPEN YOUR EYES UP , STEP IN THE RING ! — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

Aphra had been born in the neutral territories, but her father's stories of life in The Typhoon intrigued her. So she had, of course, visited and happened to meet Pincher at the tavern (once she was old enough, obviously). Their meeting had ended up with her pregnant (unfortunately) and not wanting to be the one to take care of them, Aphra joined and decided to let Pincher deal with the hellspawn he created.

But even after all that, Aphra quite enjoyed clan life. So after she had abandoned The Typhoon for a while, she came back. It was a fascinating, carefree life, and Aphra could just live here without worrying about being attacked and left to die. Sure - she's been attacked by her own clanmates and her father, but she pretty much asked to get attacked. The scars that covered her face made her feel awful, and ruined her ego about her looks. Aphra was still a bit self-conscious about her scars but she couldn't make herself the best Typhoon Captain if she stayed in the shadows.

Ahab's booming voice is what drew the elegant she-cat over, and she ran over as quickly as she could. The jungle was almost her second home, which would explain why she was so close enough to hear her clanmate's growl. "Hey, don't mind him!" She cooed, trying to give this stranger a reassuring smile. Though Michael had already tried to calm the canine down, it seemed. Or at least, was trying to make the situation seem a bit friendlier. "He's a big ol' softie, trust me." That was... a lie? Honestly, Aphra wasn't sure, but she definitely believed the guy could work as an attack or guard dog (er... bear) of sorts if the need arose. "You are pretty deep into our territory here, though, hon. Are you lost?" [glow=COLOR,1,400] ━ ✧*:･ﾟ[/glow]

[ROXANNE R.]

[glow=white,1,400]I LOVE YOU, CANNIBAL QUEEN ! — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

Roxanne hadn't been born in the Typhoon which was rather unfortunate for her seeing as she didn't have the greatest childhood but when she had grown older, she had heard of the Typhoon and it slowly had became her new home. She would never stray far from the beaches that were something so familiar to her, she'd die her. Roxanne already have planted her roots and even started a family of her own. She would do everything in her power to protect all of her loved ones, a sigh escaping her as she limped along with both of her ears pricked forward. She could easily fly place to place but even then her wings would tire at some point and frankly for a feline of her size, Roxie wasn't the skinniest. Her weight would likely tire her out much quicker than she would've liked though her mismatched gaze locked onto the sight of Michael, Aphra, and Ahab. Roxie figured that it must've been a joiner or stranger of sorts and with careful, slow steps would the chubby Privateer make her way over.

Brushing her coat against Michael's in their usual way of greeting, her whiskers twitched lightly taking in the sight of the stranger. A poodle. An odd looking poodle, she held in a giggle realizing that they appeared similar to a clown. Roxanne took a deep breath with her gaze shifting over towards Ahab who seemed stiff and demanding a name out of the strange girl, a soft smile on her maw. She could only imagine that he was acting this way due to all the new cubs that was now romping about within the Typhoon, her gaze lowered for a moment as a sadness nipped at her heart gingerly reminding her that one of her cubs were missing. Roxanne would ease up a little only to move a bit aiming to gently brush her side against one of Ahab's legs in an attempt to soothe his tension. Her soft smile still fitted nicely onto her maw with her gaze turning to Benji "Hello," She piped out with a voice so sweet and heavy like honey. [glow=COLOR,1,400] ━ ✧*:･ﾟ[/glow]

[OCTANE.]

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OCTANE

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OCTAVIO SILVA
High-Speed Daredevil
AFRICAN CHEETAH
TYPHOON
"Ooh, sick death, dude!"

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If you got him talking, Octane would very quickly dump information about his former self. He'd have maladaptive daydreaming about it, how awkward it probably was to unload all that info now. He could play it out in his head "Yes, I was in a bloodsport. I'm an Apex Legend! I've killed so many people dude like you not believe- hey wait where are you going-" And then they would leave and Octane would repeat the process with someone else. No one wanted to go to the daring extremes he would, ever, only Caustic would meet his level of danger... on a good day.
He skids to a stop now, rolling in his chaotic way per usual, kicking up sand. The approach was always stranger- what was he supposed to add? He looks over the others, taking account of each there, and looking at the... what is that? Some kind of dog? His eyes squint behind his mask as his jaw opens slightly, trying to think. Octane steps forward, coming near Ahab and looking at them.
"Hey uh, if you don't mind me askin' amigo, what are you? I've never seen a dog like you before."

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Original code by lexasperated / artwork by @R_HillPrime