if we sail together — joiners

[Kian.]

hold fast, tides are turning

If he was truthful, Kian was on the brink of panic.  He never thought he would say goodbye to his crew. They were in good paws with his first mate, and he knew he would not have to worry for them, though perhaps his new position as a father made him more prone to fretting.  The child was his reason for splitting off, though he would never blame her, or be bitter.  With her mother gone, it was just the two of them.  A life constantly on the move was not good for someone so young.

This was a new start, and the life was, hopefully, not too terribly different from the life he was used to living.  Not for the first time, he glanced behind him, knowing he would not see his crew or ship in the distant, but longing nonetheless. They had been his family for so long, but they would move on one day, and so would he.  It had to be that way.  Perhaps one day, he'll find them out in the open waters, but the former captain would not consider it until his little girl was far older.  "There we are love," the Irishman murmured, smiling brightly at his sleeping child.  He could do this.  A new start.  Still a pirate.  Still a father.

The little boat was not very sea-worthy in his opinion, and he was glad they were done using it. "Word flies over the water... Hopefully, we got the place right." Gently, he lifted the child up by the scruff, still an awfully tiny kitten of only two moons, and leaped off the edge of the boat, softly landing on the sand.  Now to wait.

Kian gently set his daughter down, atop his own paws, and breathed in softly.  Too late to go back now.  He wondered what kind of crew he was considering getting into.

// feel free to post before [member=265]Keona.[/member] c;

code by spacexual

[Keona.]

✯ —keona sibéal ó faoláin. female. child. ref. bio.

The gentle rocking of the waves and smell of sea-salt was more than enough to put the tiny rusty spotted cat asleep.  She mumbled quietly as her father's lilt voice touched her ears, but did not open her sightless eyes quite yet.  She did not understand why they had moved into such a small boat, and the usual mass of voices had strangely disappeared.  No shouting.  Or singing. Only waves, and birds, and the creek of wood.

Her tiny maw parted in an abrupt yawn, a soft protest squeaking out as she was lifted up.  Keona liked to think she did not need to be carried everywhere, quite pleased at standing atop her father's paws.  She knew she was not on the water anymore, the concept freezing her in place.  She had been born on the ocean, and had spent her entire - rather short - life on the waves.

Her perked ears could still hear the water. The waves washing gently ashore, just behind them.  Her mouth quickly opened in shock.  They were not even on a boat, were they?  Extremely slowly, Keona reached down to the ground, brushing the sand with a single paw before pouncing down.  What a strange feeling.  Her brows creased in confusion as she started running in circles in front of her father, paws skidding on the new substance unfamiliar to her.

code by spacexual

[The Tombs]

It had not been his choice to depart from his family and home way back in the bitter tundras. He could just feel those harsh, coarse hands yanking at his pelt and ears and paws and tail, haphazardly tossing him from place to place. Everything seemed like a blur, and then, somehow, he would end up in confinement, trapped in a cell no greater in dimension than he was, leaving little room to breathe. And for the longest time he was forced to withstand those dreadful shouts for help, those stifled sobs from the cells near him, the hushed whispers rising into deafening screams. When there was silence, he could, hear the water. Yes, it was a ship he was on, a massive freight ship.

He knew better than to dwell on a past he could not return to. It was urgent that he made the most of his current situation, and that was just what he did. His strife for survival, his ambition to carve his name into history instead of living as a hermit, eventually led him to the Typhoon, along that expansive strip of train track that made way to the island. It was there that the looming feline stood, carefully watching over for any figures in the distance that dared to follow the tracks and make their way onto their isle of vegetation and bounty. It was the only way in, and the only way out. Or so he thought.

He spotted a figure, yes, but nowhere near the tracks. No, it was out in the sea, bobbing up and down as the waves and wind carried it over to the island. His muscles tensed at the thought of  some enemy war party finding a goddamned boat and sailing all the way to the Typhoon. Then again, who the hell has the time for that? Looking closely, he realized that the boat's inhabitants didn't seem that hostile at all. One of them was a gentle-looking domestic feline, and the other was a child, nowhere near apprenticeship. Iosef could let himself relax, cool blue eyes intently spectating the two cats as the much older male carried the young kitten out of the boat, and the kitten taking off to feel the soft island sand. It was...cute. Yes, cute. He had a hidden weakness for little children, and he couldn't harm a child even if he wanted to. Discipline them, sure, but not harm them. No, he'd only play with adults and some juveniles.

The Siberian tiger inquisitively made his way over, his muscles rippling under his snow-white pelt, adorned by obsidian black stripes. His gaze remained firmly on the male, who he assumed was the kit's father. After all, they looked alike and came on the same little vessel. "What is your business on Typhoon land?" he demanded, his voice firm but not exactly bitter. He could assume that they were looking for a home, but it was tradition everywhere, it seemed, to go through that old-fashioned "name and business" procedure. This was a warbound group, after all, and not the best place for a loving father to settle down and hope his child won't be influenced by the rough, reckless behavior of these literal pirates. Little did he know that the other cat was a pirate himself, a captain, even.

tags :: updated 3/19:

basics.
✯ Dimitri "Iosef" Aslanov // Sef, YoYo, Dimwit
✯ male // masculine
✯ 11 months // 30 months mentally // 5 years spiritually
✯ crewmate of the Typhoon
✯ no titles // no unofficial titles
✯ forcefully brought from Russia, separated from family
✯ reincarnation of a Belgian Malinois named Dimitri
✯ has a Belgian Malinois form, will rarely shift to it
✯ manipulative, silver-tongued jerk
✯ charismatic and outgoing
✯ protective of children

appearance.
✯ Siberian tiger [ref]
✯ snow white pelt with jet black stripes
✯ sparkling light eyes
✯ occasionally wears a pair of Russian VDV dog tags
✯ no scars
✯ soft Russian accent

relationships.
✯ no best friend
✯ no mentor
✯ [G1] Boris [NPC] x Anastasia [NPC]
✯ bisexual
✯ single // no crush
✯ no offspring

interaction.
✯ storage // plot
✯ physically very difficult // mentally hard // teleportation, conjuration, electric elementals, shapeshifting
✯ attack in #0097a3

[Kian.]

hold fast, tides are turning

The rusty-spotted cat flicked his ear, amusement glistening in his sea-green eyes.  He had not thought about sand and the fact that Keona had been used to the wooden decks of a ship thus far.  Not for the first time, Kian wished she could see so that she knew what it all looked like.  At least she had fun feeling the new texture.  "Sand love," he explained quietly before his head snapped up at a new movement.  The seafarer was not easily intimidated, but he knew when to be cautious. A tiger could easily snap a smaller creature like him in half.  Then again, he'd face down a Kraken given the opportunity, if just to say he could.

Silently he reminded himself he was not here to cause trouble.  At least he now knew they had reached their destination.  No hitches. "A relief to know we made it to the right place," he grinned, seemingly unbothered by the idea it might be an odd sight, for a father and child to seek refuge with pirates. He would hate to have to send a message to his former crew saying they had gotten the directions wrong.  "I'm cap-" Kian paused, brow creasing.  He would always be welcome back to his crew, he imagined, but he was not the captain anymore. He had passed that mantle down.  "Kian ó Faoláin, an' this little tyke is my lass, Keona.  We intend to join your crew if that's alright."

code by spacexual

[ARGUS]

&& BLOOD CLEARING - NEW BEGINNINGS!

---

Argus was still getting used to the quirks of the typhoon, this home was not unlike the riverside and she had found herself settled in a larger fox den under a hollow tree. A place to store her goods and rest. This island did not have the red sands and gnarled redwoods, but it had sand and the scent of water-kissed air that brought tears to her eyes on truly nostalgic days.

She remembers walking up a similar beach, watching her own daughter play with his uncle and glitter bomb those who dare escape the water for dry land. She remembers Luca, the demon minx that captured her daughter's heart coming to riverside frantic, calling out and declaring her daughter missing. Willow was not the first she had lost. Her graceless gift allowing her to see the demise of all she loved. It left her cold, it left her hollow most days. But seldom she found herself walking this beach, and expecting to see a familiar shade of pitch and honey-brown eyes looking up to her with a smile not unlike her own when she was little.

It was a day of thinking of ghosts- a day that Argus had usually spent alone that she spotted the trio. Isoef tending to the two joiners and their small boat bearly for one. But one of them was so pathetically small and it reminded her even more, she could feel her heart clench in long-suffering agony and pushes to welcome them to her home- their new home.

"Welcome ashore then, welcome home." It was an odd saying, but Argus was odd, and she felt some of her grimier surface between the melancholy. Ruby red eyes sparking to life between the dull shade as she kept her eyes away from the younger of the two and try to ignore the pricks in her own eyes. "Name's Argus, or gus if you'd like"

[Keona.]

✯ —keona sibéal ó faoláin. female. child. ref. bio.

Sand.  Keona pressed her paws deeper into the new substance.  She mouthed the word first, getting a feel for it.  "San!" Oh no, the kitten's brows creased momentarily in bewilderment, that did not sound right.  Was that what he said?  The tiny she-cat ran in another circle, very nearly tripping over her father's tail with a giggle, before coming to a skidding stop back at his feet, looking ready to try the word again, but quickly distracted.  Join? A new crew?  What was wrong with their old crew?

She tilted her head up towards the sound of her father's voice, eyes flickering, pressing a tiny paw against his leg. "Papa? Staying here?" Keona was not sure she liked that idea entirely.  She began to pout, about to demand why they had left their old crew behind, but another new voice, saying words of welcome, halted her.  She supposed, all things considered, none of the people here sounded bad or mean.  But what if she missed everybody?  What if this new crew did not like her or her father?  What if they did not sing and tell her bedtime stories?

Determined not to cry although she'd very much like to - crying, as she had figured out, did get her things sometimes but something told her not this time - she pressed against her father's side.  "'m Keona," she mumbled, not entirely minding that her father had already introduced her, so there was little need.  She was supposed to, if she remembered correctly, give her name in turn for someone else's to make it a fair trade, and Miss Argus had told them hers.

code by spacexual

[Kian.]

hold fast, tides are turning

At least that went down well.  Kian glanced down at his daughter as she bounded around, ear flicking back as she stared up at him.  He would, he knew, have to explain to her that she probably would not see their old friends for a long while. Perhaps ever.  It was not the worst thing, but he knew she might be down about that for a little while.  "Aye... That's right lass; we're staying here," he nudged her gently, hoping she would cheer up soon.

To Argus, he threw offered a lopsided grin.  The faerie did not mind if the saying was a little odd.  He appreciated it.  Home.  Perhaps calling an actual place, rather than the ocean itself, as home, would be a good change.  Especially with a child to raise.  "Thank you, it's nice to meet you, love." Kian thinks she looks a little sad, hoping that his smile might be a little bit contagious.  It did little good to be sad.

code by spacexual