say that you're pretty / joining

[Grey]

[div style="margin: 0 auto; border-width:0; width: 70%; text-align: justify; line-height: 1.5; font-family: arial; font-size: 9pt;"]There were a number of things she did not like. Pan always found that it was far easier to talk about what she didn't want to see or hear over dabbling over things such as favourites. Having a favourite number or colour, for example, was something the dark fem simply could not understand. She didn't like the idea of committing herself because she had the tendency to above and beyond for signed up responsibilities. Putting in the extra effort to be noticed, praised, often felt too exhausting. For someone with as little motivation as Pandora, going the extra mile was the same as hurting herself. She knew for sure that she definitely wasn't some kind of masochist. In fact, she had very little endurance for anything. To stick on one task for too long was draining, stimulating to her mind that was always jumping back and forth. Sometimes she would change topics on a conversation before immediately drawing the focus back to what it had been originally, never resting. On other days, the black serval would bring up an old topic, expecting others to know exactly what she was talking about. That being said, she wasn't the most social of felines. She thought it to be rather intimidating, always avoiding the possibility of meeting others because strangers were simply too frightening.

Now, back on the topic of disliking a number of things, Pandora hated sand. She, for example, could not stand the beach. Her thoughts would always be drawn towards the fact that grains had the tendency to cling to her fur, holding on for dear life. The only way to get rid of them was water but upon touching sand again, the stupid grains would stick twice as hard. Pan winces at the breeze, the desert blaring at her face as she tried to keep the elements from entering her eyes. She did not like this one bit and yet here she was, too late to turn back now and wishing she hadn't stepped foot here. The heat was making her nauseous and she didn't plan on fainting out here, not wanting to die in unknown lands for such a stupid decision. It was hard not to feel a gust of panic when her vision was beginning to blur, noise suddenly increasing in volume, ears suffering from the sound. She just wanted to give up but the heat was going to drive her mad, walking and feeling her paws sink into the embrace of sand, forcing her to pull away and exert extra energy. She was really hating this, muttering bitter thoughts in her mind because she was petty and hated her decisions.

Pan knew what she was signing up for. She wanted to join The Pitt because, in the minds of many, they were the villains. That being said, it wasn't at all because she wanted to partake in raids, captures, tortures and murders. It was for a rather cowardly reason. The girl had always been the type to want to join the villains' side because she was afraid of being on the receiving end of evil, preferring to be the hunter than the prey. But it was also because she liked to spend a lot of her time sitting on the fence, being neutral about everyone and everything. It was easier to be an observer on the side of the villains, watching but never doing anything. And yet the brutal environment of The Pitt was making the serval think twice about how she felt, wondering if it was better to live her life as a lonesome traveler and always be in fear of being robbed than join a notorious group such as The Pitt. She wasn't even sure what she could offer them other than her opinions and presence. That being said, she didn't mind just being there to make the place look extra lively, observing and watching others go about their daily business because she couldn't be bothered doing anything else. Such thoughts about a life in The Pitt only made her stomach swell with butterflies, nervous and anxious about what to expect.

There was a loud sigh of relief when she finally managed to drag herself out of the desert, shaking herself off so that at least most of the sand would rain to the soils. She was a little irritated about having to have gone through all that but now that she was here, Pan focused on brushing away the grains whilst she waited quietly for someone to appear. To be honest, she was half-expecting to be killed right here and there. This, after all, had been partially planned and partially spontaneous. Impulse decisions never sat well for the serval and she usually came to regret them.

[B. WAYNE]

[align=center][div style="width: 51%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: verdana;"]If his clanmates had a policy of attacking on sight that he'd yet to hear of, then Pandora could count herself lucky. Bruce was developing a bad habit of avoiding the jungle like the plague, if only to steer clear from the cruel populace within - associating with them in the first place wrought guilt in his chest, but voluntarily socializing with them arguably felt worse. Occasionally he could swear there was a glint of good among them, if only in a kind word or act of mercy, but these moments were few and far between. There were good people here, he knew it, but oppression kept them silent, scared. A creature of isolation, Bruce was intent on proving that the good didn't have to conform - they, he, would stand up for what was just. If that meant wandering the desert borders just to make a point of excluding a tyrannical leader and his heartless slave-driver followers, so be it.

The real villains among them would one day see their lesson learnt. Plans were starting to take form, alliances were being built, and Bruce had a feeling that something much greater than his current expectations was rapidly cresting over the horizon. His patience and his commitment would serve him well. But, for now, this.

The cheetah is built for the weather here - his narrow frame and long, skinny limbs carry him easily across the sands just as they were made to carry his kind through the dusty savanna. Still, he prepares for the weather, a thin muslin cloth gathered around his head and neck shielding him from the sun. He wipes dust from his face, grains of sand gathering in the creases of his muzzle. Pandora likely did not expect a member of the Pitt to approach from the sands behind - then again, she probably wasn't aware that he'd been following her across the dunes to begin with.

"...Do you have business here?" Bruce would make his presence known with a quiet raise of his paw, giving her something of a half-wave as he posed his question. "You're technically trespassing, unless you're waiting for somebody."

[DANTE NORTHWEST.]

♛ SMOKED A PACK OR TWO, IT NEVER WAS A PROBLEM —

Dante was absolutely the type to attack on sight if given the chance and the hybrid was just about to do so whenever he caught a stranger's scent in The Pitt's territory. However, it seemed like Bruce caught up to them first and Dante huffed in irritation, abandoning his hunting stance as he came to stand next to his clanmate. "You have three seconds to answer the question." He grunted, narrowing his green eyes at Pandora.
[div style="text-align: right; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: 0px 0px 2px darkorange; font-size: 24px;"]— DANTE♛

#psychosocial.

[Stryker]

[align=center][div style="width: 60%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10.2pt; font-family: arial;"][glow=#000,2,300]☣ —[/glow] Following behind Bruce and Dante, the ardent observed and listened to what they had to say to the stranger. Bruce was understandably. On the other side of the spectrum, Dante was hostile and unwilling to put up with the trespasser. Stryker was in the middle. He was willing to hear out their reason first, but was also willing to drive them out if things never worked out. Perhaps the joiner and him would be close. After all, they both hung out on the fence and waited for everyone else to act first before they decided on a decision. Along with that, he too enjoyed being the hunter instead of the prey. It was in his nature. Nevertheless, the Pitt was not known for it's moral high ground, even if their leader was even debating his own still. Someone willing to play both sides was still more likely to come here. Warbound and savage, they were free to do what they pleased.

Stryker stilled remained silent. The stranger hadn't spoken yet and he was unsure of their purpose of being here, along with their own moral outlooks. For now, he remained open-minded and curious.

[; albion]

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BENNY G.

ironically enough, benny's first interaction with the pitt had been trespassing their lands. although unknowingly, the marauder still couldn't help but find humor in the situation. would it be hypocritical to condemn her for her actions? considering he was let off the hook, even with yes-man in his face calling for his dogs to tear him apart, the fox still managed to survive. what a miracle that was for sure.

for now benny held no judgement on pan for crossing their borders, thinking it smart that she wouldn't risk her life waiting in a dry desert, possibly letting the heat kill her before they did. impressive that she had managed to navigate all the way to the jungle as well. all the while as a high position, he was expected to uphold their rules after all.

"three seconds? you give me 'n explanation for why your face looks like your ass in three seconds. bet'cha can't." benny teased as he prodded dante's side with a cheesy grin.

© LEXASPERATED

[Grey]

[div style="margin: 0 auto; border-width:0; width: 70%; text-align: justify; line-height: 1.5; font-family: arial; font-size: 9pt;"]She doesn't like the desert. She cannot stand the grainy texture clinging and hiding beneath her fur, fragments brushing against her. For anyone to ask her to stand around for any longer would find that their breath is wasted when she disobeys. Now that she has stopped moving, there is only a calm hum she notices within the rainforest. It is not difficult to hear the soft sounds of paws sinking into the sands behind her but the serval does not move. She sits in wait, ears only twitching slightly for the brief wind she expects when a predator raises their claws to attack. Pan drops her head forward slightly, hearing a male's voice. Business, trespassing. The serval didn't really think about trespassing. Her mind had been so focused on getting out of the place. She's not fond of hot weather and yet she is here, plain eyes still staring forward. She doesn't look at the cheetah. But one can see the way her chest now rises and falls from behind, breaths deeper as she tries to contain herself. To be honest, she would rather turn around, dip her head and just leave. But leaving isn't simple. If it had been simple, maybe she might have done it by now - bolted in another direction, refusing to let others touch her by toggling her intangibility. She hates it when she feels like this. Once again she's lost motivation, lost interest so quickly.

It doesn't help when another Pittian appears, threatening her with a time limit. She hates time limits. "Looking to join," she replies in a low voice, a white breath dissipating from her cold lips. The humidity in the rainforest is better than the intense heat of the desert. She doesn't want to be burned alive but, then again, she wonders if she will turn to steam instead. Pan finally lifts her head, noticing there are two more now beginning to approach like vultures swooping in at the sight of a rotting carcass. The situation only brings her discomfort. She would rather she had never come here because it felt tedious to sit around and imagine having to run. Pan wonders if she can even be bothered to do it. Perhaps she will just close her eyes and let them end her, maybe she will try and freeze them all. In truth, she is too much of a coward to make a decision now. She made her answer in that frustrating time limit the Pittian and she didn't think to add her name. A brief, amused laugh leaves her maw when she hears Benny's comment. "I didn't really want to stand around in the desert - too hot," the girl then says, tempted to add that she despised sand but choosing not to. As if to add a reason as to why it might have been a bad idea for the girl to stay at the border, the ground freezes around her paws, shards of ice melting from the humidity. "My name's Pan."

[Stryker]

[align=center][div style="width: 60%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10.2pt; font-family: arial;"][glow=#000,2,300]☣ —[/glow] A joiner? Thankfully that should shut Dante right the fuck up! It was an explanation worthy of a welcoming smile, something rare from their former vicar, but Stryker wouldn't hold it to them. As for the rest, Benny and Bruce remained neutral, despite one shouting at Dante. The lion only listened till Pan finished. Then he would butt into the situation. "Well, I'm sure we can fit another sand-lover in," he urged sarcastically. The desert was practically their line of defense at this point, seeing that no enemy wanted to cross it to reach the jungle miles away. This 'Pan' had dedication though. "After all, we need the paws." Seeing that the Typhoon was breathing down their neck, he wasn't exactly kidding. "Welcome to the Pitt, Pan," came his acceptance. "My name is Stryker, ardent of the Pitt. I'm in charge here." As for the rest, he'd allow them to introduce themselves. The lion didn't want all the spotlight (that was a lie).

[Grey]

[div style="margin: 0 auto; border-width:0; width: 70%; text-align: justify; line-height: 1.5; font-family: arial; font-size: 9pt;"]She doesn't mind the sarcasm. As serious as her expression may be sometimes, she appreciates humour. It was far better than the aggressive response of Dante, the fem avoiding eye contact with the male and keeping her attention towards the lion. Sometimes it is difficult to pay close attention to others. With the heat screaming against her black fur, burning up against her skin, her mind is more fixated on the sun and keeping in the shade. She doesn't want to have a heat stroke but she puts her concerns aside when she hears the words she wanted. 'Welcome to The Pitt.' She had made it and the moment felt surreal to the serval. She hadn't really imagined herself to join the likes of a callous group. She likes order and rules to avoid calamity, but at the same time restrictions and bounds have always frustrated her. Pan sits within the midst of contradictions, always cancelling out her thoughts and emotions with others. Stryker, ardent, in charge. The words echo soundlessly to the woman and she nods her head. The lion was her leader, the boss in charge. While she is bad at remembering names, she will try extra hard not to forget Stryker's name, the fem pressing a smile and replying: "Nice to meet you." They were standard words everyone used, not exactly meaning anything other than an attempt to be polite.

[Stryker]

[align=center][div style="width: 60%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10.2pt; font-family: arial;"][glow=#000,2,300]☣ —[/glow] The words rang in the leaders head who promptly nodded in response, offering a smile as a polite offering to their newest member. "No, no," he rumbled, "It's my pleasure." More like 'thank you for becoming another number for the body count,' but that was a rude first impression. Couldn't change that though... The Pitt was tight knit, yes, but in reality what mattered most was their prevailing strength over their enemies. Otherwise, they'd be dead. With that thought, he should make this one right at home. "I'm sure you'd be up for a little tour? Yes?" His head craned off to the side curiously. Stryker liked to start things off with a tour to get the others talking while they were walking. It was a nice personality check for them while they familiarized themselves with the setting of the Pitt.