HURRY HURRY ✰ joining

[arcy]

[div style="margin: 0 auto; width: 65%; font-family: timesnewroman; font-size: 10pt; text-align: justify;"]In hindsight, Jim thinks part of him expected this. Not .. quite like this, but being torn away from his ship. Again. It's agonizing, in a way, that the stability, the joy that came up captaincy, was just .. gone. Like that. And now he's a dog for some reason. What was up with that?
.. So, needless to say, Jim's manner of expressing grief was .. a little more .. violent, than most people's. He couldn't go to a bar and get drunk and then pick a fight. So he just picked fights. Hence the bleeding gash across his shoulder and that Jim didn't particularly care to tend to. Though, considering how deep his paws(fuck,) are in swamp water, he thinks that maybe he should've cleaned it up. Or maybe he'll do that later -- wrapping up his wounds wouldn't matter if they got soaked through by sludge. The wolfdog groans as he lifts a paw, wobbles precariously, and fruitlessly attempts to shake it off. All he gets for his efforts is nearly plunging face-first into the already frequently-mentioned swamp water. It'd be a shame if his pretty face was ruined. By swamp water, he means. It's just a misfortune that it also has the possibility of being ruined by all the fights he was picking. But that wan't to be discussed.
...
...
......
He can't move his paw.
He gives it another yank. It doesn't give. In fact, it just gets tighter and it was wrapped around your paw, dumbfuck, of course you can't move it.
"God dammit," He hisses under his breath and, too upset to listen to reasoning, continues attempting to yank his leg out, with far more force than necessary. Predictably, it does not work, and Jim snarls softly. He's losing blood circulation, though it laxes just the slightest once he stops pulling.
Shit.
He's stuck.
... This sucks.
Jim glowers at his paw one last time, and settles himself in the water gloomily. It's going to be a bitch cleaning himself up. How's he going to get out at all, though? Something to think about while he's sitting here, hopefully not becoming alligator bait. Hopefully remaining unconfronted by the absolutely terrifying mutated creatures he's seen.
He's been to a lot of bad places. But God, this place sucks.
//im on a star trek kick just shhh

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[HAMMOND]

[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width: 60%; font-family: georgial; font-size: 11pt;"]One thing the male had learned living out in the wilderness was to disregard personal opinions on things. Hating a certain territory or feeling vengeful for hurtful actions did nothing but put a damper on your chances of living, even he'd be one to admit that Tanglewood wouldn't have been an easy place to settle into if he was planning on a long-term commitment here. A former ghost problem, his peers and their attempts to build the place up into a more civilised area and radioactive wastes, he would've pinned his acquaintances down as nuke-worshiping freaks had it not been for their kindness that day. Even if at times he was left trying not to put on his rose tinted glasses, he was slowly becoming happier to patrol around and see what could've ailed himself and the other Tanglers.

A wolfdog wasn't exactly an ailment lest foam was at its mouth, a negative energy emanated from that regardless. That snarl towards the environment was the first thing the Guardsmen noticed as he pushed himself out of the foliage, ginger paws keen to avoid the same fate as Kirk's as he remained on the outside of the bayou's grasp. He seems to meet the other's attitude with a sombre one, pacing back and forth as he looked the other up and down. The mud seemed to grab at the other, and whilst it acted like a muzzle on a vicious dog (why did he remind himself?), Axle didn't fancy getting any closer. His ears were pinned to the back of his head, teeth bared in warning not to do anything foolish.

"What?" he couldn't say much more than that, a lump forming in his throat as he tried to think of a way to ask this stranger why he was standing there in owned territory.

[arcy]

[div style="margin: 0 auto; width: 65%; font-family: timesnewroman; font-size: 10pt; text-align: justify;"]The fact that the animals here could talk wasn't even anywhere near the top of his 'weird things' list had to be .. kind of sad. He'd learned of this .. a few weeks ago. I mean, it was inevitable that he'd discover that they did, what with them speaking the same language. Even with this in mind, though, he was not expect anybody to be here, or even a voice. Jim wasn't any good at picking out scents, especially in the mud.
Jim can't help the agitated yip that makes its way from his throat at Axle's single question. He feels like a trapped animal, probably because he is. There's something distinctly different between his reactions to stuff here, and from when he was with his crew. Jim would, in fact, like to blame the fact he's a fucking dog, pretty please?
"What?" He snaps back after instinctively flashing his own teeth for only a moment, anxiety evident in his tone despite all attempts not to give. He gives his paw a few sharp tugs and sighs when it only tightens the grip. His tail thumps into the mud moodily. "Where the fuck am I," He groans, mostly to himself. All the while, he maintains a wary glower towards Axle, not quite trusting other. He was .. confused, to say the least. Which, Jim mantains, is perfectly reasonable because seriously, what the fuck was going on? It's not like he has context for any of this.

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[HAMMOND]

[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width: 60%; font-family: georgial; font-size: 11pt;"]Axle knew what it was like to be stuck, through two previous captures being trapped was something he had first hand experience with - yet he struggled to empathise with the other's state. He responded to the yip in kind, head lowering and a low warning growl rumbling from his throat. The other's frustrations became more and more obvious as time passed, with the Guardsmen's question being thrown back at him in rude manner. The Heeler could handle being antagonised, just not when the potential of physical harm came with it. He slowly started approaching, giving quick glances to the mud every now and again so he could watch where he was stepping. Even as mud marred his orange and grey fur, he was lucky enough not to get trapped yet.

Stopping just outside of biting distance, Axle would contemplate over the other's question. He's lost and confused like you were, why can't you ease up? No, that was the clan's influence talking to him, he couldn't listen to it, he couldn't. "Tanglewood," he cleared his throat, silence enveloping him as his brain went through what he'd have to say next. "Trespassing too. Lucky, crocodiles aren't hungry today. Can you not get yourself out?". An obvious question directed towards Jim's stuck appendage, Axle wanted to weigh his options before helping the other out. What benefits would he get?

[arcy]

[div style="margin: 0 auto; width: 65%; font-family: timesnewroman; font-size: 10pt; text-align: justify;"]Lucky for Axle, this wasn't the sort of situation where Jim would pick a fight himself out of anything but panic. Which, god. There's something entirely animalistic about his lashing out and he doesn't like it. It's harder to take reign of his own emotions than it should be, which, honestly, fuck. He was supposed to be reasonable.
... For as little as he cares for Axle's hostility, though, Jim thinks he can relate. And for that matter, he doesn't seem horrible, what with how he actually answers Jim's question reasonably. It was like .. a feedback loop, then. Jim was upset, so the stranger was upset, and then Jim got more upset. This was fair. Jim attempts to force his hackles to lower, but is only semi-successful. God, it sucks not having proper control over his own body, or his behavior.
"Interesting name," He manages, forcing his voice to be level. There's still an edge of anxiety to it, but he seems to be able to settle better now that the threat of right-away-immediately being attacked had passed. His grin, when he attempts it, is awkward and not-quite-right. Both in the fact that he's still wary, and also that he barely has passing knowledge on how to control his fucking body. Dogs can't grin, except he can, which is weird. "Lucky me. Except, no, I wouldn't still be in this if I knew how to get out, would I?" .. And, at long last, he manages to get a lid on his fucking emotions. There's an edge of humor in his voice as he, against better judgement, yanks on his paw again. Yikes, ow. He's not quite sure what he's stuck on, considering that his paw is in the mud. But either way, it's around his ankle, and he can't feel his fucking paw.
God.
.. He should probably calm down. It's not like he hasn't been in worse situations, no matter how inconvenient this one is. It's just his paw.
God, he misses his crew right now.
He just needs ... something to convince the stranger to help him. Except Jim owns literally nothing. Very gently, he tugs on his paw again, noting when it stops, when the grip tightens. He grimaces and puts his paw back down.
It's just economics. People don't do stuff for free, especially not people this wary. He sighs.
"I don't exactly have anything to offer for helping me get out, unless you have an idea," He says on a whim. Leaving this place he is so clearly trespassing? He wonders what their regulations for joining are. He won't admit the idea has appeal, even though it's filthy and it got his paw fucking stuck. The fact is, though, that Jim has no idea how to survive on his own like this. He's getting himself into trouble without his crew to regulate him, just like he did before the 'Fleet. And it's just so lonely. He'd gotten used to being surrounded by people, it was just kind of ... jarring ... once he was alone again. Hence his lashing out at the world.

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[suvi.]

[div style="width: 430px; line-height: 1.4; text-align: justify; font-family: palatino; font-size: 11px;"][align=center]kiira | tanglewood | chaser
AND SOMETHING NEW WILL BREAK THE DAY

The little vixen knew what stuck was like.  A common predicament for one with an erratic form; her body in a constant state of flux.  Corporal or not.  Here or there.  So the child felt empathy at the sight of trapped canine.  Her unmatched hues flickered, dancing from Jim to Axle.  The latter oft seemed rather defensive, especially with strangers across the border, yet he unnerved the fretful chaser all the same.  What's the use in being so... Threatening?

Kiira materializes beside her tribemate nonetheless, seemingly out of nowhere.  As a matter of fact, she'd gone from tree -- an unfortunate, semi-common occurrence -- to ground to Axle's side in only a few minutes and felt horribly disorientated for it.  She found her legs shaking consequently and struggled to stand up perfectly straight.  Her ears flicked back sheepishly as she regarded the trapped stranger, teeth chewing the inside of her check.

"W-we should... P-pull him o-out," she murmured quietly, head inclined towards Axle.  A stick maybe, or some rope... Would easily do the trick.  To the wolfdog, she offered a polite smile, "w-well you cou-could join us, I-I gu-guess... B-but on-only if y-you n-need a place t-to stay."  No reason to force him to join them, just because they helped him escape the swamp.  Yet there was no reason to hold back the offer.

[Anubis.]

[align=center][div style="width: 450px; line-height: 12px; text-align: justify; font-family: georgia; font-size: 8pt;"]This is kinda funny.  Any amusement the small wolf felt was hidden the depths of brown eyes, as the canine joined his clanmates beside the murky water.  Thus far, he'd managed to avoid getting stuck, but it was not an entirely inconceivable situation.  Anubis gave the trapped canine a sheepish smile.  "So what's your name?" He piped conversationally.

"And would you be interested?" He decided to add onto Kiira's inquiry, ear flicking.  "I'll still help you out, regardless," he offered a second later, shoulders rolling back in a lose indifferent shrug.  Can't be comfortable in there after all.  He tosses his head around, scanning the surroundings for something to make fishing the poor guy out a little easier.

[arcy]

[div style="margin: 0 auto; width: 65%; font-family: timesnewroman; font-size: 10pt; text-align: justify;"]Somehow, Jim didn't actually expect other people to show up. He blinks a few times as the fox appears from fucking nowhere. It was hard not to know that there was strange people, strange abilities, here in this .. world. A new world, probably not the same universe, even, because there wasn't exactly animals with powers back at home. .. She was shaking. Jim regards her with a little bit of concern, but is ultimately more interested in what she's saying.
"It's just this one paw," Jim informs them, just in case. To prove his point, he lifts his un-buried paw out of the mud with a noticeable, and nearly topples down. He really can't feel his paw. He'd be more concerned, except it was more of a circulation thing. .. Yeah, the fact it took effort was probably part of the reason he was struggling so much.
... Was it that easy? Jim blinks a few times at Kiira, and then Anubis. Just ... be offered? That's a terrible idea, too risky, but also one Jim is already grateful for. Listen, for all Jim knows they're cultists, but Jim is miserable and angry at the world. ".. Thanks," He says mostly to Anubis, still registering this. And then, after a pause, he offers a smile. "Jim. I'm Jim. Staying would be ... Staying would be nice," He says, tilting his head. Better than what he was doing before he stumbled here, at least.

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