sixth station - joining

[tybalt.]

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cream paws tread slowly along as water dipped and swayed around them, a small splashing sound punctuating every motion. the clear, warm water here rippled with a soothing green blue, its gentle stream traced by the occasional wayward fish. they carried a purpose. why, then, did he not? his mind felt barren, as minute as his wake along the submerged tracks whose course pushed past the horizon’s line. on and on he walked, his tail trailing behind him. 

this must be punishment for something i’ve done. as in life, he practiced little restraint. he treated so many in a poor fashion, thinking solely of his own benefit or comfort. a sentence to an eternity of strolling along, void of another ounce of intelligent life would befit him. those faces and voices he thought he loved may have very well been confused with the gifts they gave him.

in considering this, the shift of the waters around him stilled. the tracks halted and the lulling sounds ceased. his chin came to rest upon his off-white chest - his eyes gazed into the see-through current. though he now knew he held control, it hurt to fathom the relationships he pulled asunder. he failed controlling that chapter in his life.

tears as salt-crusted as the sea he disturbed threatened his vision before he wandered forward anew.

reality made its return once he sighted the yawning archaic gate. there was an end to this sunken road after all. he picked up his pace, the initially soft lapping becoming a brisker warble. among it, paltry signs of his grief dropped and absorbed into the red fur of his face. his paws led him beyond the maritime purgatory, onto the shore, up a sandy hill, and at long last, stopped at the old structure. water clung to his eyes, inciting a wiping on the inside of his right leg. damned emotions. he could do without, but no, it marked his humanity… whatever shred he had left.

sniffling, the cat searched the great aged walls for the reason of their standing there. they could signify a designated area; then again, they could act as a reminder of times long past. the answer became clear as he discovered a bulky bell. ringing it would invite unknown forces, yet, at this point, what had he to lose? his teeth gripped the weathered rope and tugged, waking the artifact from its slumber.

a clarion ring clamored above the soft waves.

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tybalt - male - the typhoon - somali cat - tags

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[Keona.]

[table][tr][td]

keona sibéal ní faoláin.
the typhoon.
the blind dealer.
information.

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[div style="width: 360px; font-family: palatino; color: #2a4971; text-align: left; padding-top: 15px; padding-left: 10px; letter-spacing: 2px;"]Idir brí is idir muir, Tá mé i dtiúin

The sound is familiar.  Clear against the breaking waves, and the tiny wildcat followed the tune without an ounce of hesitation.  Without much thought at all, soft paws moved through the underbrush and to the gate.  Though she herself came to the Typhoon on a small boat, claiming landfall on the shores of the bay, Keona had met many crewmates at the bell.  She would meet many more to come, no doubt.

Visitors rang the bell too.  But nothing of familiar neighbors drifted in the air.  The one who stood at the gate was a complete stranger.  Intentions unknown.

Her ears perked, head inclining upwards.  All guesswork, but everyone made noise.  "Aloha."  It'd been a while, she realized, since she met someone entirely new at the border. "Can I help you?"

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© MADI

[michael t.]

pills don't help, but it sure is funny!  ☆  ☆  ☆

MICHAEL TOWNLEY

THE TYPHOON

DEALER

Tybalt was far from the first within The Typhoon to have some regrets, and it was doubtful that he would be the last. Michael had made plenty of mistakes in his own past, even though he was fairly confident in the fact that he would repeat them all if given the chance, since they had led him here. Except, perhaps, he wouldn't kidnap that Tangler. If he had known at the time that she was pregnant, then he never would've laid a single paw on her. Regardless, the rest would probably play out all the same, no matter the circumstance. A life of thievery and murder, and a whirlwind and crazy romance that had eventually evolved into something genuinely loving, and full of heart. While the dealer knew he hadn't been a good person before arriving within The Typhoon, he liked to think that he had grown since then. After all, he now had more than just one friend, and he had a sprawling family of children and relatives that he loved incredibly dearly. If he hadn't grown in some way since his initial joining, then he certainly wouldn't be a dealer right now, either.

That was enough reminiscing for now, however. The ring of the bell throughout the archipelago territory told Michael that it was time to get up, since something was going on. Part of him wondered if it would be someone from Tanglewood, come to explain that letter from Sophiea, or why they hadn't been at this month's gathering. Curiosity was what pushed the bobcat up to his feet, jewelry glinting in the light as he eventually made his way to stand beside his fellow dealer. He offered Keona a short nod, before glancing over the newcomer. The guy definitely wasn't from Tanglewood, considering he didn't smell of the swamp at all, and he didn't really look familiar, either. That usually either meant that he was here to join, or that he was from one of the little groups that normally didn't show up on The Typhoon's radar. While either could have been true, Michael found himself questioning, "Hey there... you doing alright?" He gestured with one paw towards his own eyes, having managed to spot the faint wetness that the other's gaze still held. It seemed like he had been crying – maybe he was lost? It wouldn't be the first time they had someone lost and upset come wandering up to their border, but usually those who did were children. Michael kinda doubted this guy was just some lost kid, unless he had suddenly become very bad at judging ages.

☆  ☆  ☆  gimme, gimme some of that vampire money, come on!

— Reggan

[tybalt.]

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a small feline-esque creature stepped into view from the other side of the gate, causing him to shuffle back towards the ocean half of the landmark. bordering an individual only brought trouble - besides that, she deserved personal space. he raised his limb once more, planning on eliminating further evidence of his tears, yet paused as he recognized the unseeing murkiness dwelling in her gaze. my bad. his paw returned to its original place on the ground. 

"i'd hope so.", a slightly gruff voice issued forth. "what is this place?" he found it unlikely that she should be a lone soul. in fact, the notion proved impossible as he breathed in the unrelenting, intertwining trails of strangers. many set foot before and, alternately, many's presence scarcely rose above a whisper of their once being there. he would fade from history one day; rather that than be remembered for his illustrious career of faults.

his dark coated, notched ear flicked as if to dismiss the looming thought. not long after, it and its brother stood at attention as another relative of his species slunk into view. the other's question sparked a pang of panic and then a dip at the corners of his maw. "i'm fine.", he expressed, a glance cast in the lynx's direction. "the water splashed me." likely story. one he hoped the two bought since he did not wish another's sympathy be provided to him. time and time again, he saw how that reliably played out. his gaze pulled away from the lynx, falling towards the sea. "the waves're restless further out there." he threw this grumbled addition in, figuring it would back his falsity.

michael thought right; tybalt was no chilld. he may be lost, though - figuratively and generally. he felt fond of the environment, if he ignored the pain of the never-ending stretch he just passed through. fate had it that he had found a pleasant place to be lost in.

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tybalt - male - the typhoon - somali cat - tags

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[Keona.]

[table][tr][td]

keona sibéal ní faoláin.
the typhoon.
the blind dealer.
information.

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[div style="width: 360px; font-family: palatino; color: #2a4971; text-align: left; padding-top: 15px; padding-left: 10px; letter-spacing: 2px;"]Idir brí is idir muir, Tá mé i dtiúin

Keona's ear twitched, her tail flicking in acknowledgement as Michael approached.  Her sightless eyes remained on point, following the sound of the unknown voice. 'What is this place?' A stranger in entirety.  Lost.

"This is the Typhoon," she offered immediately.  "We're a crew."

The tiny wildcat hummed softly, familiar with the restlessness of the waves.  She felt in her bones.  Her soul.  She knew she could pull the water closer.  If she wanted.  She didn't entirely believe the tom, but she felt no inclination to express it.  Not her business.

"Do ya need directions?  Or a place to stay?" Might as well.  She had offered to help after all.

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© MADI

[tybalt.]

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his thoughts wandered back in time, broadly blanketing on the countless groups he cycled through in his youth. one appealed and revolted him more than others, but the name of the clan failed manifesting itself for he buried its moniker and the memories linked to it leagues beneath the surface.

"does your crew have room for another member or should i forget it and get lost?" his query shook him, eliciting his own surprise at the audacity of the notion. surely, his sense must have leapt overboard in his seaside trek. there he stood, fresh from the middle of nowhere and already seeking harbor. the joinings beforehand involved that common trait. always, he desired shelter either from outside or inner forces.

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tybalt - male - the typhoon - somali cat - tags

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[michael t.]

pills don't help, but it sure is funny!  ☆  ☆  ☆

MICHAEL TOWNLEY

THE TYPHOON

DEALER

Truth be told, it was easy for Michael to tell that Tybalt had been lying about his tears. That was mainly because the thief was pretty damn good at lying himself, and he had often used those skills to avoid having to talk about his feelings. However, it was because of this former experience that the bobcat didn't press the issue, knowing that it was unlikely to get them anywhere. If Tybalt truly wanted to talk to someone, it wasn't as if the feline couldn't seek them out. Hell, if he ended up joining, there were three healers alone that were eager to provide therapy – although, he hadn't seen the third one in quite a while. Shrugging that off for now, the dealer nodded along with Keona's words, adding on his own addition, "What she said. We're a bunch of rogues and pirates, all gathered together because we're fond of each other, supposedly." A bit of a crooked grin came to his face at that, making it clear that he was just joking around. He wanted to lighten the mood, considering Tybalt's current state.

When the somali cat spoke of joining, Michael was similarly caught off guard, having expected the guy to just go trudging off alone. Ty seemed like he was the self pitying type, and it wouldn't have surprised the fugitive if the other had decided to go and wallow, rather than making himself a home. Despite this, the dealer's surprise was pleasant, and the grin that had been on his face returned. He let out a short chuckle before he said, shaking his head, "We've got plenty of room on the crew, don't you worry. Although it'd be nice if you could share your name with us before you fully joined, since we wouldn't just be throwing things at you to get your attention. I'll go first though – I'm Michael Townley-Phillips. I'm a dealer here in The Typhoon." He doubted that Tybalt would know what the position meant, considering he had only just joined. However, it was pretty easy to put together from context clues that it was a high position, so he had never worried when introducing himself with it.

☆  ☆  ☆  gimme, gimme some of that vampire money, come on!

— Reggan

[tybalt.]

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the light-hearted disposition of the bobcat's comment beckoned a sliver of a smile of his own, though it shortly faded. after all, a cold scowl endlessly lingered at the ready, his default expression which stood the tests of time. dissimilar to him, the duo before him appeared as if a beam or two found practice in their daily routines. the spotted one saw wonders no others observed while the shadowed shared his mirth. such gifts flourished in the clan setting.

self-pity ingrained itself within his being, nurtured at an early age and present thereafter. "shit, i forgot." tybalt placed a paw at his brow, discontent with his blunder. he forgot an integral element of the process and it happened to be the first thing he should have said. "i haven't been apart of a clan for awhile. my memory's rotting or something." a sigh passed through his maw. "my name's tybalt. good to meet you." the position michael referenced bore resemblance to the exalted rankings in clans of old. thus, he did not question the explanation behind it.

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tybalt - male - the typhoon - somali cat - tags

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[ROXANNE R.]

Approaching the group with both ears pricked forward did a toothy grin appear on her maw as she brushed past Michael with a lash of her tail that would lightly smack her brother in the face before turning her attention to Tybalt.  "Well, I hope that I'm not late to the welcoming party." The quartermaster said with a slow nod of her cranium as she adjusted the wings on her side, she would take a seat deciding that she should introduce herself the the newest member of the Typhoon "My names Roxanne Roux, I'm the quartermaster of the Typhoon." She began to say with an amused snort though she added with a curt nod "I hope you're in for a wild ride since we pirates tend to party and shit... Otherwise, welcome to the crew, Tybalt." She would've offered a tour or something of the sorts but she was usually busy and didn't think she would have the time to properly show Tybalt around.

"And to answer your previous question about housing. We got plenty of treehouses, scattered huts on the island, and some rooms over in the tavern. We got some vacant rooms on the ship as well, I'm sure. If you have any other questions, feel free to ask me. I promise I don't bite," She mused with one of her fangs sticking out from her maw though she turned her head to glance over at the ocean for a brief moment. It was nice that they were getting new people to join their group yet there was a feeling of unease that settled within her chest, she glanced away from the ocean to have one last look at the joiner nodding slowly "Make yourself at home," With that said, the quartermaster would start to walk away seeing as she had a few things to get through. After all, she was a busy woman.