LAND SHARKS? // o, paranoia

[Crow Roux]

[align=center]action — "speech" — thoughts

PHYSICALLY HARD | MENTALLY MEDIUM | MAGICALLY MEDIUM | ATTACK IN [b]#757f96[/b]

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Crow's eyelids drooped as he set a bottle down on the table, then his gaze shifted to the window where a sliver of moonlight wafted lazily to the floor. It was late. Not too late, but late enough for the day-dwellers to have retired to their beds. But those like the silver feline would be up for a little longer before sinking into sleep. Drinking was foolish, and he knew it, and that awareness struck him almost as hard as his snout was struck by the table when he stood. A grunt slipped from his mouth as a searing pain ebbed through his face, and instinctively he brought his paw to his nose.

Blood, so much blood. It was on his paw, his face, and now it dripped to his floor.

His emerald eyes fixated on the splatters that were slowly appearing beneath him and he felt his gut turn. It was not like Crow to be sickened by blood, especially his own, but that was not what was on the feline's mind. He had to clean this up, or else they would smell it.

They. A very vague term, but to Crow, it fit like clockwork. The vile creatures of the swamp. He did not know what was out there, but certainly something was. Something dangerous. Something that was going to hurt him...

As he pressed a cloth against the stains, he heard something. The wind perhaps, or maybe an owl, but that was not the case for the feline. His form began to shake, his breath quickened, and without thinking he bolted out of the door, blood still dripping out of his nose. They were coming, and fast! He did not have time.

Maybe it was the alcohol talking, or maybe it was his own paranoia that lead him to begin scaling the side of his house. His feet scrabbled to get a hold, kicking loose a large metal sheet which fell to the ground with a deafening clang; everyone in the vicinity was bound to hear it, but that was the last thing on the feline's mind.

One would find his frail form crouched atop his roof trembling with fright and muttering to himself. The crimson liquid now stained the tips of his pearly chest fur. His nose had long stopped bleeding, but the damage had still been done. Crow looked like a crime scene.

- ★ -

tl;dr: crow fell, got a nosebleed, and is currently hiding from monsters on his roof

[suvi.]

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kiira | tanglewood | medic
AND SOMETHING NEW WILL BREAK THE DAY

The loud clang of metal indeed alerted the petite vixen.  Confused ears perked, unmatches hues blinking in surprise and concern, quickly seeking out the sound's source.  A second later, the frail medic materalized, her shimmering form moving on it's own accord to the proper location.  While accostumed to her sudden teleportation glitches, the child let out a startled squeak at realizing she was up on someone's roof.  The heck?

Crow.  Metallic scent of blood in the air.  Scarlet on fur.  Nosebleed... Thank god. Any sign of blood bore ill with her, but at least the frightened looking male wasn't dying of blood loss from horrible gashes or the like.  Still.  "C-Crow?"  C̡͘o͞w̶͘à͜r̢d̕͜; ̛͜w͝h͟a̛̕t͠҉͜ ̸͟ḑ̨o͜͝e̷̛͜s̢̛ ͟he͞ ͢ŗ͢u͘҉n̶͘ ̡̛fr͘͡o̕͠m̷͏?

"Wh-what happened?"

[charactercemetary.]

Perpetualpaw had been out and about, not really settling in. She hadn't really found a place she liked. Of course, the little Twilight Princess did not expect such a thing to happen. A man, bleeding from his nose, standing on the roof... for some reason. The wolf's eye narrows, as she walks forward, past Kiira. She'd already asked the question, though a second go would not hurt."Do you need help?"

☾ we’ve fallen to the dark as we dive under the waves

[beck.]

    This freakout was the second most amusing thing that had happened this month, although of course, this scenario lost to the entire Rosebloods dilemma. Nothing could top the sheer amount of hilarity the interaction provided, and when reflecting in hindsight, Beck laughed until his broken ribs splintered even further. After all, what else could be done besides laugh?

    Seeing as restless spirits naturally were forbidden from sleep, Beck resigned to continuing his daily work into the midnight hours. By the time Crow zipped past his blurred vision, he was focused on fashioning guppy-shaped beads from the bones of a catfish with his trusted dagger, stringing the finished beads in a strand with hollowed shells and sea glass spacing them apart. While the silver tabby sprinting past him with his tail tucked between scurrying legs threatened to release a fit of giggles from the poltergeist, the trail of blood in his wake turned his snickering into an exasperated sigh, and he begrudgingly set down his project to address the situation. That was a medic's responsibility after all.

    Beck took his time limping after the raving feline, partially because his fractured ankle decided to wobble and buckle under more pressure than a clumsy trot, and because he could already see the distorted silhouette of Kiira approaching with the so-claimed "princess" in tow. Flopping back onto his haunches a distance away from Perpetualpaw considering Kiira managed to blip onto the Crow's rooftop, the boy scratched his notched ear with a hind foot and croaked up to his fellow medic, "Think he's got a bro-oken, broken nose?" From his viewpoint, nearsighted eyes failed to discern any visible bruising on Crow's snout, but judging by the amount of blood present, it was possible. The dark-furred cat scowled inwardly to himself, recalling the sharp crack of cartilage as an older urchin's elbow rammed into his face. All over a crust of bread, if he remembered correctly. It hurt like hell, he was sure of that. The crooked nosed kid soon became his label, albeit not for long when other scars began to accumulate. The tip of his muzzle still slightly jutted sideways to this day -- violently shaking his head to refocus, Beck wheezed to Crow, "If you're st-till bleedin', pinch your nose 'n' lean forward." Was he even lucid? Judging by the reek of alcohol in the air, he doubted Crow could understand him. Oh well, at least he tried, right?

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[arrow]

[glow=black,1,400]DID I HIT THE SPOT, PISS YOU OFF, MAKE YOU A FOOL IN FRONT OF EVERYONE — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

She was just chewing on something when the clang rang out, the fur along her spine shooting straight up in fear, not that there was a whole lot to stick up. She shook her head, popping up onto her paws to investigate. Maybe something had fallen over, someone's shelter falling to shit. Not that such a thing was relieving, it was dangerous to get things crashing on top of you obviously, good luck living on with a snapped spine and busted skull.

But no, it was none of that. Well, something had been knocked off, yeah. But she was more concerned about Crow, who was on top of his fucking roof, looking like he'd either been socked in the face multiple times, or like he just ate someone. A blurred collection of voices pieced together led her to realize that it was not that, but he just had a nosebleed. Okay, that was fine. Whatever. But why on the roof? "Bud? You alright up there?"

[Crow Roux]

[align=center]action — "speech" — thoughts

PHYSICALLY HARD | MENTALLY MEDIUM | MAGICALLY MEDIUM | ATTACK IN [b]#757f96[/b]

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      By the time anyone got to him, Alice had already fallen into the abysmal rabbit hole that was the conscious mind. For some, that hole was anxiety, or intrusive thoughts, but for Crow, that was when everything went totally completely wrong. It was when the shadows behind his flowerpots started to dance in the evening sun, whispering to him unpleasant words. It was when he began to lose track of time and sense of what he was doing.

      The attenuated feline's joints became wobbly, and he felt himself sink under the crippling weight of his form. Every piece of his mortal being was screaming at him to run far, far away into the endless forest around him, but the minuscule amount of sense that resided inside of him told him no. He would not make it far before he collapsed from exhaustion.

      Crow's crimson-tinged paws found their way to his snout, and his claws began to flex upon his skin in an almost mechanical fashion. It was as if, if he did it hard enough, methodologically enough, the pain would bring his mind back. He was overwhelmed, and he wanted everything to cease.

      Voices pierced through to the feline's consciousness, but he barely heard it.

"What happened?"

                "Do you need help?"

      Soon, more voices would join, and Crow's ears would release themselves from the grips of his no longer busy toes. It was as if the presence of familiar sounds and sights released him from the physical torment, but deep inside his head was still a tempest of instability. His lips parted with a mousy wail, and then he began to speak in a hushed voice.

      "T-they sme-elled it, the blood. I made a big, big me-ess..." The words started to fall out of his mouth, growing in volume and speed in crescendo and stumbling into each other like a drunken crowd. "I screwed u-up b-bad... I-it's all o-over me!"

      At this point, Crow was purely mad. There was absolutely no one coming, and no one ever would come, but Crow had convinced himself that a hoard of beings deep inside of the swamp smelled his dumb nosebleed.

      "I'm so-orry..."

      His eyes welled with tears as he took a tentative glance around. How pitiful he was, cowered on his rooftop with a crime scene for an anterior and tears rolling off of his cheeks. It was almost laughable.

[eggplant18]

//OOC

There wasn’t much he was doing at that particular moment. Some thoughts here, a few scribbled ideas there. Eyes focused on a flickering candlelight that illuminated his desk in a warm orange light. When a loud crash echoed throughout the town, the dragon merely glanced up from the open notebook before him. Faint and garbled voices began to collect in the air. A big commotion. Ska’arq ties the notebook and pencil to his wrist, exiting his home and locking the door behind him while searching out the source of the noise.

There were figures on the roof and several more clustered near the front door. The faintest hint of blood reached his nose. Feet carried him to the scene, cyan stare sweeping around. There was only one individual he recognized- that interesting ex-leader ghost, Beck. Seemingly finished taking in the situation without a word, Ska’arq lifted his gaze to the panicking and collapsed cat on the roof. All of this caused by a bloody nose? The notebook was retrieved, and he sat down, poised to write down whatever happened next.

[align=center]ATTACK IN BOLD #6e65b5 - TAGS

[beck.]

    Yeesh, and he thought his episodes were bad. Or, maybe they were worse... whatever, he didn't remember them anyway. What did matter was calming down a hysteric Crow, however impossible the feat seemed. That was more Kiira's department in all honesty -- he was better with handling injuries, not the patients themselves -- but nevertheless, Beck rolled bony shoulders back with an audible pop and merely observed the silvery tabby for a moment to identify how exacty to approach the situation. He wasn't lucid, clearly, and seemed deadset that an unknown threat sought after his hide.

    A grim line warping his disfigured snout, Beck sucked in a shallow breath and croaked up to the other, "They'll be able to fi-ind ya more eas-easily if you're up th-there. Why dont'cha climb down 'n' we'll clea-an the blood off of ya so they can't smell ya no more? Can, can ya do that for me, Crow?" He didn't believe the nonsense spewed out from the older feline's drunken mouth, but as long as he could get the hallucinating chaser to comply, it didn't matter. Were his words convincing enough? The boy sank teeth into his remaining cheek, eyes distractedly darting to the new presences behind him before he violently shook his entire apparition and refocused himself. For good measure, Beck added on a cheesy line he didn't want to sweat oath to with a slight huff of desperation, "We'll protect ya if they come, o-okay?"

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