FLYING OFF THE DEEP END // raid

[toboggan]

Sharp pain twinged around his hardy forehead, on account of Captain’s fangs designated themselves as unwanted guests in the guardsman’s forehead. Neck yanking back in recoil, resentment towards his attacked immediately started to brew within the confines of his gut. The bite was not powerful, and missed its target location by a solid inch or so, though it drew blood - the familiar sensation of warm ooze already seeped from minuscule wounds. A furied growl began thundering in his throat; nobody touched him like that, especially by the second-rate heap of scum that was a Pittian. Whoever this fucker wanted to call himself, the feline’s name was about to be etched in stone for the rest of eternity. "Alright, douchenugget, you’re really getting it!", Leroy spat, rearing himself for yet another lunge.

And then, to the mutt’s utter surprise, Beck made the scene, attempting to land a good hit on the scoundrel who initially aimed to tangle with the child.

Before any further action could be taken, deafening palpitations broke the sky’s silence, instantaneously followed by a sound only comparable to a flamethrower on performance-altering drugs. Disoriented, all previous intentions momentarily blurred, the Tangler’s hardened glare combed the skyline in an effort to identify the cannonade’s cause. The fresh, unaccustomed black smoke served as an obstacle, but a dusky reptilian figure who could be identified as Azrayel was diagnosed as the sudden chaos’ source. Looked like the fellow was holding his own just finely, what with that magical fire stuff conveniently spurting from his maw. Great stuff, keep it up.

Focus returning to where it once had been before (the caitiff known as Captain), the lack of Beck startled Leroy. Even more, there was a new face, one who wore a docile demeanour.

The kid was gone. Shit.

Slightly panicked, blood continued to slowly trickle down his noddle as Leroy dipped away from the deuce of Pittians. A good few moments had passed, before he found himself coming to a skidding halt. Crow, being mauled by a rather talkative Jervis, as Arrow’s chompers made contact with the opposing leader’s leg, with a hasty Beck making an attempt to gore the fox not far off from the group. The fox’s rotten heart was so set on victory, that his monologuing was beginning to sound like a Saturday morning cartoon villain. Seriously, nobody cared; it was soon to be four-on-one, his chances of victory in this scenario we slim.

The leader was caught in a pickle, the captain of the guard was feasting on some leg, and the medic went for the torso, leaving the back, neck, and head as the only current areas available for attack. Honestly, the hound preferred some good ol’ fashioned leg maiming - but when a snob was knocking the everliving shit out of your boss, beggars couldn't really be choosers, could they?

Rearing himself once more, Leroy launched his tall body through the air and towards [member=3615]JERVIS[/member], his bared pearly-whites aching to messily sink themselves into the red fox’s collar. This was a high-risk high-reward feat; yes, munching on arteries would prove very beneficial, though the possibility of missing was still strongly present. And, even if he did successfully gnaw on Jervis, missing the neck was very much a possibility, as Leroy wasn’t entirely good at aiming. And finally, such a move left Leroy’s own rear exposed; free real estate for those willing to make a move of their own.

[Crow Roux]

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"F-FUCK—" The next thing he knew his head was smashed into the dirt, teeth clacking loudly from the impact. He grunted, his body tensing as the fox scrabbled at his head. Another slam, then he braced himself and pushed his feet under the larger animal, canines bared. He felt he was suffocating under the weight of Jervis atop his chest, quick breaths coming out as raspy heaves. Any more and his brittle ribcage was sure to fall apart.

Each word that left the fox’s maw was gasoline trickling onto the fire of resentment that burned deep inside Crow’s core. Every sound caused it to burn bigger and bigger, and he was near a breaking point. He was angry and his outlet was right in front of his face. He wanted Jervis's dumb mouth to stop making noise.

Out of the corner of his jade eyes came into sight a small figure, an odd saviour. A rush of adrenaline coursed through his veins like a venom, and in a flurry he found a new strength to use his legs to attempt to toss the fox to the side as Beck made contact. In the quick moments his adversary was distracted, jaws clenched the dagger strapped to his side and he furiously swiped it forward in the direction of Jervis's chest. Crow didn't care what he hit, as long as he hit something. He wasn't playing any more games.

[Jervis]

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Pointed horns like daggers flew into his side. Jervis was admittedly caught off guard by the stranger, ultimately frustrating him to no end. The horns had gone deep. Blood was rushing out from underneath his skin within miliseconds and causing a wave of instant fatigue to come over the ardent. Even with the aches, he knew he had to keep going. Golden eyes narrowed. 'God dammit.' Thus he continued on, fighting his way through their grips. It was no use.

As soon as he tried to slip away, more came his way. With a yelp of surprise, the fox was tossed to the side by Crow and then tackled by Beck. He landed roughly on his back with a grunt. Though defenseless, Jervis knew that someone had to come to their royalty's help eventually, so he fought on. The first chomp by Beck was unsuccessful, as Jervis had seen it coming from a mile away, but Leroy's snap at his collar landed. Uncanny and shrill, a screech left him. Unsheathed claws were thrown forward, attempting to lash at Leroy's smug mug and whatever he could reach on Beck along the way. Venom and spit soaked, he was pissed.

Sadly, that was not all. A dagger slashed and dashed across his chest, causing Jervis to kick upwards in an attempt to push Crow away with his back paws. In the meantime, he tried to slip away from the other two again and seek help from the others. Perhaps Ramona and Captain could be of assistance.

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tags - penned by orion

[teef]

RAMONA LINGRÉ

✯ — THE GROWN UPS TAUGHT ME TO WATCH AND LEARN

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alright, she had to admit that she knew there would be pain associated with this, jumping into a fray instead of letting the killers come to her and catching her unprepared. when beck swiped his paw up at her chin and neck, she didnt try to dodge, she let the pain come, remembering old lessons. his elbow aimed at her throat missed but caught her shoulder, throwing her for a spin and miscalculation of her direction.

stumbling for a few steps, she could hear jervis' cries and let her eyes close, regaining her sense of balance and bolstering her sense of confidence and drive to protect her home. the youngster would swing her head in the direction of the gang-up on jervis, keeping an ear to the sky, knowing the dragon up on high would not be her problem to face at this moment. she was a small thing anyways, and she had the matters of present to focus on. calling upon all of her memories of her uncle, she picked up a stick from the nearby grounds, gripping it tightly in her jaws.

it was time to defend her home, at least in her uncle's memory, and because she didnt know if she would survive this day at all, so it was better to go out swinging. taking a breath, she charged across the open battlefield, mind filled with memories and warnings, and the presence of her uncle and mother. she didn't give a cry, for it sang in her bones and blood, called to the warring nature of her family. aiming a charge at [member=1538]leroy[/member], ramona would change direction at last second, aiming to dive under the other canine with her stick pointed towards his underbelly and thighs, hoping to get it stuck in the male and cause enough of a distraction for a second attack. if her attack was successful, she would use the speed of the attack and the force of the stick striking to spring to her feet on his other side. if unsuccessful,  she would slide out on the other side with her stick still in her jaws.

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✯ — FEMALE. UNKNOWN. WEAK. REF. BIO. — ✯

#psychosocial.

[Pastel]

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PASTEL ROUX !

We are the weirdos mister.

Pastel had helped plan the raid to a point. She had a patrol of fliers dropping glitter filled glass bottles onto the field and any number of enemies or allies could get hit, either with the glass, the glitter or both. Some might not get hit at all, but it might be a good disraction to the Pitt if they could see the bottles dropping.

While her patrol was enacting a previously planned attack, she went to enact an improvised one. She barely had the size of a three month old kit, and fought like a magician mainly, but she saw an opportunity when Jervis did his temporary retreat. The witch snuck underneath his belly with care, careful not to disturb his fur and with a great spring, jumped up into his belly. She assumed it would feel like getting punched, or having a weight thrown at you, she was a whole three and a half pounds after all.

//I have permission for smacking [member=3615]JERVIS[/member] with a tiny cat

Penned by Elumina - "SPEECH"

＃forsaken

[Jervis]

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Unaware and slipping away from the others, he found himself out in the open. All sides had someone surrounding him and Jervis found himself relatively safe. Sadly, he was not aware of what lied beneath. Pastel had succeeded. Out of nowhere, something pounded into his stomach. His breath left his body instantly. A heave left him as Pastel threw her weight into his stomach, causing him to jerk upwards instantly and then proceed to lurch forward into a forced lean. As a result, his paw reached out forward in a jolted reaction and aimed to swipe or slap at Pastel to roughly hit her away.

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tags - penned by orion

[Crow Roux]

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Finally a break from the combat, and Crow stumbled back a short distwnce to regain his bearings. Hot liquid ran along the length of his face, and he squinted to keep the crimson out of his eye. Jervis had nearly sliced the tip of his ear off perfectly, and it bled profusely, but it was no problem. The ardent would duly pay in time.

As much as the feline wanted to jump back into the tussle, he knew he had much more important tasks at hand before he would allow himself to indulge in the havoc. Crow’s head turned around frantically, searching for the poltergeist’s small figure, a key player in the event which was about to unfold, and he spat, "Beck, the bucket!"

A pause, and a new sight caught his jade gaze, the form of his daughter drawing near the fox. A gasp as Jervis’s pummeling feet neared her, and he was flying through the air again, intent to tackle the ardent to the ground once more, blade held and no longer withdrawing his impulses. A socked paw moved to firmly plant itself over the fox’s throat, and a growl escaped his lips as he thrust the blade downward with gusto, and then again, and again.

Crow wasn’t going to let anyone else hurt Pastel. Never again.

[Jervis]

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Out of the corner of his eye, the tabby reappeared. Jervis parried backwards. The blade missed him, but he clearly saw it's intents to kill as it swung through the air with gusto. Passionate swings. An over-emotional Crow was appearing before his eyes and showing where his true loyalty lied. Though he was unaware that Crow was her father, he now knew that he had a prize to hold over the other leader's head. If he could manage to grab the girl and run, there would be utter chaos. But not now. That would have to come later. Jervis had to keep fighting.

Even if his eyes were wide out of surprise, the fox let out a cackle of victory. "What?" he shouted cockily. "Is this one important to you?" For now he bounced on the tips of his paws.

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tags - penned by orion