08-14-2023, 12:54 PM
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[div style="margin-bottom: 4px; height: auto; font-family: baskerville; font-size: 26px; letter-spacing: 3px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; color: black;"]OH LORD, DON'T LET ME
BE MISUNDERSTOOD
BE MISUNDERSTOOD
ACTIONS | "SPEAKING" | THINKING | TELEPATHY
This wasn't the welcome party he was expecting.
He hadn't been up to date on the mainland's affairs in what felt like ages. Months ago, Zjarr was sent off by Aesior along with a handful of other Tanglers to scout out their island addition to their territory and work the lands. It was a curious task to assign to someone who was by no means a farmer — he was a hunter, a warrior, and a blacksmith, but never a farmer. He wouldn't dispute the assignment, though. He had joined Tanglewood with the terms of being open to virtually any work the clan threw at him so long as they gave him and his adoptive children food and shelter. Their end of the deal was held up, and it was his turn to do the same.
My kids. The demon hadn't seen Christian, Lanyu, or Randall in so long. He refused to let them come with him to the island, believing that it would be a perilous decision for the young shepherds. They were well-protected in the main Tanglewood camp, surrounded by people who could feed them, defend them, and prepare them for their futures. Zjarr had sworn not to grow attached to the children. Even now, he blamed whatever attachment he had to the pups on Flamey's encouragement. After all, it was that godforsaken ghost that convinced him to keep them in the Forge and practically raise them as his own. They're Ignibuses too.
As the husky led the boat back to the mainland, the desire to see their faces once more flooded his mind. He pushed the thoughts away. They will be fine.
He tossed his head over his shoulder and cast a glance at the other Tanglers on the boat that granted them passage between the mainland and the island. Only a few of the band of settlers had come back with him, just enough to carry the resources he was intending to present to Aesior and the rest of the group. Zjarr hoped to be the bearer of good news. The island's soil was fertile, and the farming settlement's bounty over the past several months was quite fruitful. It wasn't just crops that the farmers had raised — they domesticated some of the local fauna, too, which meant that meat would be on the menu for the Tanglers as well. Each item was carefully bounded and secured for easy transport.
Unfortunately for them, getting their haul back to the town would be anything but. As the demon navigated through the swamp, his food-toting Tanglers in tow, the reek of spilled blood and the angry snarls of battle stopped him in his tracks. He made out a screamed name amid the chaos. Captain Sherbet. His lips drew back into a growl, his chest growing hot. "Fuckin' pirates!" he snapped. What the hell happened while he was running the island? He was going to have a long talk with Aesior after this; that was for damn sure.
Zjarr turned back to the settlers, who eyed him curiously as though awaiting orders. Then again, listening to Zjarr's instructions was all they had been doing for a while now. He made the decision not to have them take up arms for now. They had a mission, and they were going to complete it with or without him. "Find a way 'round all this. Get this shit back to the town. Don't get caught, don't be an idiot, don't be a hero. Now, go! Move!" He waved a dismissing paw at his entourage, who dispersed as soon as the words left his mouth. He spared no time diving into the action now, dirtied paws leading him closer to the battle.
The demon hadn't seen combat in a long time. Aside from a few scuffles with some vicious wildlife, the island settlement saw little trouble in terms of pesky neighbors or dangerous natives. He hadn't the time to brush up on his martial arts, though he did use plenty of his magical abilities to aid the creation of the settlement itself. The Tangler stopped for a moment, scanning his surroundings for a proper entrance. Of the enemies on the battlefield, one actor was of particular interest to him — a phoenix that flew low, perhaps to pick out a smaller opponent to take to the skies. There ya are. Ready to play?
Locking onto the Typhooner and watching them swoop down, Zjarr tapped into his internal reservoir of heat. If he timed this right, he could possibly disable the phoenix by taking out a wing; at the very least, he would attempt to distract them from any smaller, more vulnerable allies by putting the focus on himself. Pulling from his heat, he extended a paw and began to channel the energy into a fireball that danced in his grasp, eager to taste flesh.
Let's fuckin' play. When the winged beast swooped down to a low enough point, Zjarr hurled the fireball towards the phoenix in an attempt to get a hit in on its wing. Worst case, he would attract the creature's attention and take it from there.
In preparation for the Typhooner's potential response, Zjarr's eyelids clamped shut. He searched for his blade that was a bit too far away for comfort. He pulled at the feeling of the blade, conjuring it to his current location. It arrived, sitting before him as requested, but teleporting it from such a distance took a bit of his energy. The husky spared no time picking up the blade, wielding it tightly in his jaws as he locked onto the phoenix again. For now, he was going to observe his opponent and be on the defense.
[member=23781]cyprian[/member]
He hadn't been up to date on the mainland's affairs in what felt like ages. Months ago, Zjarr was sent off by Aesior along with a handful of other Tanglers to scout out their island addition to their territory and work the lands. It was a curious task to assign to someone who was by no means a farmer — he was a hunter, a warrior, and a blacksmith, but never a farmer. He wouldn't dispute the assignment, though. He had joined Tanglewood with the terms of being open to virtually any work the clan threw at him so long as they gave him and his adoptive children food and shelter. Their end of the deal was held up, and it was his turn to do the same.
My kids. The demon hadn't seen Christian, Lanyu, or Randall in so long. He refused to let them come with him to the island, believing that it would be a perilous decision for the young shepherds. They were well-protected in the main Tanglewood camp, surrounded by people who could feed them, defend them, and prepare them for their futures. Zjarr had sworn not to grow attached to the children. Even now, he blamed whatever attachment he had to the pups on Flamey's encouragement. After all, it was that godforsaken ghost that convinced him to keep them in the Forge and practically raise them as his own. They're Ignibuses too.
As the husky led the boat back to the mainland, the desire to see their faces once more flooded his mind. He pushed the thoughts away. They will be fine.
He tossed his head over his shoulder and cast a glance at the other Tanglers on the boat that granted them passage between the mainland and the island. Only a few of the band of settlers had come back with him, just enough to carry the resources he was intending to present to Aesior and the rest of the group. Zjarr hoped to be the bearer of good news. The island's soil was fertile, and the farming settlement's bounty over the past several months was quite fruitful. It wasn't just crops that the farmers had raised — they domesticated some of the local fauna, too, which meant that meat would be on the menu for the Tanglers as well. Each item was carefully bounded and secured for easy transport.
Unfortunately for them, getting their haul back to the town would be anything but. As the demon navigated through the swamp, his food-toting Tanglers in tow, the reek of spilled blood and the angry snarls of battle stopped him in his tracks. He made out a screamed name amid the chaos. Captain Sherbet. His lips drew back into a growl, his chest growing hot. "Fuckin' pirates!" he snapped. What the hell happened while he was running the island? He was going to have a long talk with Aesior after this; that was for damn sure.
Zjarr turned back to the settlers, who eyed him curiously as though awaiting orders. Then again, listening to Zjarr's instructions was all they had been doing for a while now. He made the decision not to have them take up arms for now. They had a mission, and they were going to complete it with or without him. "Find a way 'round all this. Get this shit back to the town. Don't get caught, don't be an idiot, don't be a hero. Now, go! Move!" He waved a dismissing paw at his entourage, who dispersed as soon as the words left his mouth. He spared no time diving into the action now, dirtied paws leading him closer to the battle.
The demon hadn't seen combat in a long time. Aside from a few scuffles with some vicious wildlife, the island settlement saw little trouble in terms of pesky neighbors or dangerous natives. He hadn't the time to brush up on his martial arts, though he did use plenty of his magical abilities to aid the creation of the settlement itself. The Tangler stopped for a moment, scanning his surroundings for a proper entrance. Of the enemies on the battlefield, one actor was of particular interest to him — a phoenix that flew low, perhaps to pick out a smaller opponent to take to the skies. There ya are. Ready to play?
Locking onto the Typhooner and watching them swoop down, Zjarr tapped into his internal reservoir of heat. If he timed this right, he could possibly disable the phoenix by taking out a wing; at the very least, he would attempt to distract them from any smaller, more vulnerable allies by putting the focus on himself. Pulling from his heat, he extended a paw and began to channel the energy into a fireball that danced in his grasp, eager to taste flesh.
Let's fuckin' play. When the winged beast swooped down to a low enough point, Zjarr hurled the fireball towards the phoenix in an attempt to get a hit in on its wing. Worst case, he would attract the creature's attention and take it from there.
In preparation for the Typhooner's potential response, Zjarr's eyelids clamped shut. He searched for his blade that was a bit too far away for comfort. He pulled at the feeling of the blade, conjuring it to his current location. It arrived, sitting before him as requested, but teleporting it from such a distance took a bit of his energy. The husky spared no time picking up the blade, wielding it tightly in his jaws as he locked onto the phoenix again. For now, he was going to observe his opponent and be on the defense.
[member=23781]cyprian[/member]
bio — attack in [b]#f24b00[/b]
✰ — I'M JUST A SOUL WHOSE INTENTIONS ARE GOOD
zjarr ignibus / tanglewood / hellcat / weapons dealer / plot