MINUTES OF SILENCE / IDK WHAT THIS IS

[PATRIOT]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]ooc: please wait for alloy / honeyguide!
idk what this is = he was joining but then there's honeyguide

Washington had never expected leaving everything behind to be this easy. His entire life lies behind him, sealed up and unreachable. That on its own manages to mitigate some of the homesickness — can't miss what you can't go back to. When people say that it's impossible to go home again, they usually don't mean it this literally. So he looks to the future as best as he can, with only the occasional glances back to the gently forested area he called home. The longer he walked, the more the landscape changed and the more unsure he became. The area he found himself in now was hot and humid, though after the trek across desert sands — well, that was more than welcome. Still, he finds himself missing a world that understood moderation.

But this world didn't understand anything, certainly not his purpose here. He ran into animals he didn't understand. Unnatural colors, mutations, and a certain brutality. The wolf bared his teeth and most of them left him alone. His bark was worse than his bite, or maybe he was just a pacifist. Leaving him alone gave him some time to think, to observe. And so far all that he's observed is that everything he'd learned in the vault was wrong. The doors opened and they all flooded out; Washington with his medical supplies and candid smile, others with guns and scrap metal. They were messy, enthusiastic creatures, all wanting to fix things. Rebuild. But the world that they had been introduced to wasn't one that needed rebuilding. It certainly wasn't without its flaws, though. These people didn't really convince him to leave them alone. Not after he saw the cruelty they all offered one another.

So he was... here. The wolf keeps his head turning as he walks through the thick jungle, his pace slowing once he hits a scent marker that he honestly finds repulsive. A low, disgusted hh rumbles in his throat as he takes a seat, to — wait, he supposes, though he decides that he should probably go through his supplies or something instead of just wasting time. As soon as he unhooks the strap holding it in place, it falls to the ground with a gentle thump with bandages cushioning the bottom. Like he hasn't done this a thousand times without need.

[Stryker]

[align=center][div style="width: 60%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10.2pt; font-family: arial;"][glow=#000,2,300]☣ —[/glow] eyes emoji
welcome to the pitt y’all!! /track for now + will delete when i post icly

[HONEYGUIDE]

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//i'm feckin late but thank you!!

Honeyguide didn't have much of an attachment to that vault, not when from the moment he existed he knew those around him would fall to his claws. It wasn't a home when he spent every waking second planning their deaths, evaluating their skills just as his mother trained him to do, and, again as she'd taught him, he had made himself likable. He was sociable, charming, humorous. Everyone knew him, and no one had a harsh word about him, even those naturally cantankerous- except for one person, who had existed on the periphery of them all. A bit quiet, agreeable in his own way, more prone to walking alone. Nice when he wanted to be. He'd seemed impervious to all of Honeyguide's attempts to charm and beguile, barely acknowledging overt attempts at conversation, sparing a greeting and little more because somehow, he wasn't interested. The leopard knew he would be a challenge later, too.

So few of the others were. The stragglers -those last to leave the vault- were quick to fall prey to him, taken by surprise and betrayal. One he arranged a bit of a fall down the stairs on the hillside. A tragic accident. A few he lured away, offering to travel together, and later, he hid their bodies in the den of a bear.

Washington wasn't last on his list, but he was a little past halfway down a long charter of names. They weren't needed for rebuilding anyway, not when the world wasn't the shithole they were all told it'd be. Close, but not quite. No one would miss them when they were all gone.

Not him.

The leopard watched from high branches, quietly slipping from tree to tree, until the wolf below stopped at the border and sat, all polite. Honeyguide allowed him a few moments to settle into position before leaping down, attempting to drop onto the wolf's back, claws at his shoulders.
[align=right][i]INFORMATION

[PATRIOT]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]/ shush alloy you're fine + thank you!!

Grayson really had been something else, when they were growing up. Others in the vault flocked to him, wrapped up in his impeccable manners. Washington couldn't say that he was entirely immune. Though he'd thrown himself into his studies and spent his off time doing more studying, there were some days when his heart did something odd. He waved it off, but it was hard not to feel something when the leopard grinned at him. It was always part jealousy and part affection. He hadn't quite managed to not get caught up in that snare, the same one that left almost everyone he knew dead. There were some days that he would find himself absently smiling at the leopard's back as he told some ridiculous joke — then it was back to his books. Those were safe, and quiet, and existed solely on his terms. Though lonely, it was also comfortable.

Then his parents had died. Shocking, he knows: another kid with dead parents. They'd died in some sort of accident, and with that went a lot of his hope. Sure, he pushed himself out of his box a bit. Got social, dated a few times, found himself falling into his work with a smile. But more than that, Washington found himself taking up all sorts of sports. Everything he could. They had a sort of soccer team and he'd joined that, wrestled and play-fought and tore up all kinds of training dummies. He'd only fully grown after losing everything. The wolf's shoulders are broad, with a limber sort of strength. He knows his body and its limits. Today, that might just save his life.

His first instinct when weight hits his body is to fall — not gently, but not gracelessly either. The canine drops to his side with a heavy thud, his shoulder hitting a moment before his hip and the contents of his bag haphazardly scattering. Washington has yet to see who attacked him, just a black blur of fur, but he's too busy moving to search anyway. All he can hope is that it was enough to shake his opponent off their game long enough for him to finish finding his feet without interruption. A low growl already tears from his throat and his ears are flat. There's no betrayal — yet — but Honeyguide certainly caught him by surprise.

[HONEYGUIDE]

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//am i though

Honeyguide did have favorites among the other dwellers- favorites the way Waylon preferred fish over meat. Some of them were a little more palatable, a little easier to play at joy and mischief with, but Wash hadn't quite made it onto the scale, mostly because the wolf had managed to keep to himself so well that what Honeyguide knew of him was mostly second-hand information. Or from watching. He did that a lot, admittedly, but it couldn't be helped when Wash had always seemed so determined to avoid him as much as he could. He watched him play, though he was always careful that they didn't go against each other in the shared sports. Always found a way of sitting on the sidelines when Wash was up, and went up when Wash was pulled out. Honeyguide kept to team sports- more bonding there, and the one on one sports could reveal too much, which his mother warned against.

The most reactions he would get were almost accidental, and gone in a flash, like he was berating himself for laughing at some dumb shit Honeyguide had done. He'd figured by then that it was sheer will and choice that kept Wash from liking him, which shouldn't have stung like it did. Honeyguide didn't care. He was going to kill him, and all the others, so it wouldn't matter what they thought or did. They'd be too dead and Honeyguide too busy with some other assignment.

For now, though, the goal was assassination. When the wolf dropped, Honeyguide rolled off, back on his paws in a blink, and he gave Wash time. Figured he'd allow him the dignity of dying on his feet. The leopard's expression twisted into a laughing smirk, blue eyes morbidly bright. "Still so cute when you're angry," he remarked slyly, all charm, though anything but in the way he began to circle the canine. "A real shame you have to die." He swept in again, this time attempting to swipe at Wash's side with his claws, spinning around to his other side to repeat. Not a quick death like some of the others had been, but he was bored, and if anyone would give him the most entertainment, it was Wash.
[align=right][i]INFORMATION

[PATRIOT]

[align=center][div style="max-width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]/ yes

He supposes it should be a good thing that he didn't make the leopard's list of favorites, if the feature necessary to qualify came down to "easy to toy with". He had made something of a point to never be easy for anyone except his parents. Their affection came easily, and so too did his response to it — that had been one aspect of his life where he'd known no moderation. But outside of family, the wolf had drank a little, explored a little, and loved a little. Only ever a little. The first person he'd dated played sweet with him for a month first, sitting to eat with him under the pretense of needing help with a topic they'd gone over, picking him first for anything needing a team. He'd taken a while to get around to anything, always, forever, but in the same way that Honeyguide is bothered by his lack of reactions, Washington finds himself disappointed that he's not a favorite. Neither of them played this game to the other's satisfaction.

But they had grown up since the wolf's days of awkward avoidance. As he settled into the role of doctor, the slow waves of adulthood separated him from most of the others he was familiar with. Grayson stayed popular and he stayed busy; nothing and everything changed at the same time. Perhaps as he got older, he became less committed to not caring for him. Lingering curiosity became something else, warmth quietly radiated from him. The world out here had taken some of that away already, sheer cynicism bleeding back in and drowning his fire with black water. That probably started long before this point, filling up the cracks that life left in him.

At least it made him jumpy. He doesn't expect that it saved his life on its own, not when Honeyguide was intent on taking his time with it all anyway. Wash may not be as quick at getting his feet back under him as the other is, but he's certainly no slowpoke. Despite the light throbbing now warming up that side of his body, he spins around to face the other before the words hit his ears. Recognition hits him all at once. The wolf's ears flatten, staring blankly at him. When his face starts to heat up under dark fur, he's not certain if it's another product of the confusion or — something else. "Grayson?" The more emotional part of him insists that this is some joke, but his mind won't allow him to take that risk. As the leopard circles him, his own paws move in tandem to keep him well within his range of vision. Even as quick as he is, as prepared as he is, it's not quite enough to keep him safe. Not when Honeyguide had been ready for this.

A jump out of the way isn't quite enough to leave him unscathed. Curved claws part his fur and then his skin, red springing up quickly from the middle of his rib cage to his shoulder. The injury is light but painful, stinging and stinging and stinging. He hisses with it, just a little breath, but even that is easy enough for keen ears to catch. The next time the leopard's paw comes around, he's ready. As he swipes, Wash twists and lowers his head, teeth bared and then moving to snap down on the cat's foreleg. He doesn't know the strength of it in a real fight. Would it be enough to hold, break skin, break bone? He doesn't plan ahead, too caught up in the moment and the confusion, betrayal starting to twist in his stomach. To him, this wasn't all too entertaining.

[Stryker]

[align=center][div style="width: 60%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10.2pt; font-family: arial;"][glow=#000,2,300]☣ —[/glow] //throws hands @ y'all bc you are both great and shouldn't doubt yourselves >(

From afar scurrying could be heard among the territory and prompted the ardent to turn his nose to the sky, subconsciously noting that neither trespasser was from the Pitt. The more, the better the challenge. Plus, who didn't like a few extra slaves around the place? Stryker began to prowl throughout the jungle's underbrush, neon eyes narrowing as he observed his surroundings. As he grew closer, a salty smell overwhelmed his senses and fierce hissing grated at his ear drums. His best bet was two loners duking it out. The ardent grew forward more, the two soon coming into vision. One laid on the floor, blood seeping from their sides and mumbling a name, indicating that this was not some random battle for the world's best prey. This was personal. He didn't care though and proceeded forward. They were still trespassing and needed to be properly taught a lesson from a figure much larger than the both of them.

It would be smarter to go after the weaker one first. Out from the bushes, the lion emerged and was diving in the direction of Washington. Outstretched claws aimed to put force into the stranger, causing them to possibly fall over his weight again. If successful, this would also prevent the bite from transferring to Honeyguide. Momentarily, it may seem like the lion was attempting save to Honeyguide. The help was deceiving, of course, as his next target was the one he was essentially helping out. One down, one to go.