THE END OF INFINITY : Capture

[ARGUS]

It's easy to find a child, alone on the border of the pitt scouting. Argus has always lived within the borders of the Pitt, the desert was their home before the pitt ever was, before the typhoon could ever tempt them away. The desert they were born to, molded to, died to. The visage of the youth along the sands was like almost entering the burrow of a fox and calling invitation. There was no way for them to ignore it. No way for them to let it lie.

Even if it killed them a little, capturing a child that would essentally be put to slaughter. In the pitt there was no thing as mercy. in argus there would always bee that shard of weakness for children, they were once a mother, a sire. It is hard to forget, hard to not see willow in the small frame's trembling form, dangleing between their jaws like a pup to it's mother, if not for the scruffs on them.

Both of them were sand tousled, the earth mingling in their fur's as Argus had managed to catch the kid unaware, forearm smashing down into the sands, kicking it up, a low growl in their throat as the other darted. Black blood dotted the sands somewhere, but the wound was hidden by fur on the dragon's tail. They had used the distraction to use a winged joint to catch them, grasp them and pin them deep into the sand before grabbing them by the throat. Lifting them off, carrying the small such a little thing compared to them inside the border, closer to camp and closer still towards the center of where prisoner's were usually kept.

but first, a parah, if nothing else. a show to the other's that this typhooner was theirs. Argus waited for a small crowd to surround them, clanmates chomping at the bit to see the new slave put up into the trade. Maybe a hint of violence from the dragon finally catching interest after so long sitting just out of the borders. Argus did not care, they created a circle to entrap the two in, show ikaia that there was no escape.

"[glow=#cc3232,2,300]Do you know who i am?[/glow]" Argus' voice was in lower growling pitch, their throat a constant hum akin to the clicking of a gator; a warning as they encircled Ikaia like a snake. "[glow=#cc3232,2,300]Do you know what you are now, here?[/glow]"

[ikaia]

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⚓ IKAIA | current track ♪ | current shape: oncilla | engaging. . . |
The boy's plan hardly involved someone he vaguely recognized.  For the youth still recalled days the name Argus belonged to the Quartermaster.  The spotted feline rose to his paws, unsteadily.  Still reeling, he supposed, from the surprise attack.  Part of the plan...

Surrounded, he tried to scan, discreetly as possible, for a particular face.  Without her present, he turned sharply back to the dragon, a claustrophobic feeling growing in the pit of his stomach.  This would not be hailed as one of his brighter ideas when this was all over, would it?  Following a bit back sigh, the boy steadied his stance, a glint of defiance in his bright eyes.  "Aloha Argus."

Typically, he spoke lightheartedly, but he found the issue too pressing.  Why did it have to be Argus?  She was legitimately frightening -- the situation became a little too real in her predatory presence.  But he had to breathe, center himself before Keona caught wind of this through their connection.  I'm in so much trouble.

"Maunu manō." While he fails to recall instances of Typhoon prisoners, he knew the word for them; shark bait.  Given his understanding of Pittian traditions, perhaps the term was less accurate but he thought it fit.  So much trouble.

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( you are the dawn of a new day that's waking, a masterpiece still in the making )

[redvox.]

[ARGUS]

Argus would never want to hurt a child, it is true. Never wanted to enslave one either, but these were times where argus would do what they pleased, they wanted to captured a Typhooner, they wanted to make a message out of it: a demonstration. Who were they to look a gift in the mouth? THe Traitor wasn't picky, though they should be when this is the rewards they reap without it. A child -  frail and weak and innocent. Argus has broken many people, but argus had never taken to killing a child well.

"[glow=#cc3232,2,300]You are mine[/glow]" Argus response was meant as a double edged sword, they knew - they were terrifying. A loner mostly only barely associated within the Pitt because they circled the territory like a vulture. They crossed it without merit, without reason. It was easier to call them one of their own than it ever would be to capture the beast. No one dare try to stop them near the border, and Goldie had considered it treasonous just for living so close here. For seeking comfort in the landscape : The traitor would make sure the sentiment was the same. The words were to inspire possessiveness, but argus felt none; just another tool for them. A message, this child would carry argus' personal war with a clan once their home. They could at least instill the pittances - the rest of them do not harm this kid, even if the only way was by carving their own sins across it's form.

"[glow=#cc3232,2,300]A scout.[/glow]" Argus croons, continuing to circle, in strategy to keep the other's back ; making a show. "[glow=#cc3232,2,300]You wouldn't mind being a messenger for me, now would you?[/glow]" Argus asks, their voice low toned. Even from the viewpoint they can see redvox watching them, words spilling from the mutants mouth falling on deaf ears. Argus had little care for opinion. Argus had little care for any of it, this was just a show, a dance. It was easy to play a role everyone saw fit to put them in : Monster, beast, pittian, slaver.

"[glow=#cc3232,2,300]You're leader thinks i have mercy.[/glow]" the sentence is punctuated as they get closer, disingaging from the crowd's border and instead moving to ensnare the innocent slave again.  "[glow=#cc3232,2,300]Honor.[/glow]" Argus makes a sudden move, front leg darting, their aim to smash the child down, drag them through the sands and closer towards them if they are successful. Argus would circle them; their elongated form coiling like a serpent, tail curling around but making it easy to see. Argus drew breath; inhaled their own hesitance and exhaled their lack of doubt. "[glow=#cc3232,2,300]You can correct her, hmm?[/glow]"

[ikaia]

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⚓ IKAIA | current track ♪ | current shape: | engaging. . . |
No, a pirate is and always free.  He grits his teeth, biting words.  Intelligent enough, in the moment, to understand he might just make things a bit worse for himself.  I got where I wanted.  This was always the plan.  However dumb of a plan it really was.  The boy squared his shoulders, ears flicking as another voice cut the air.  A pissed off Pittian.

Don't waste your breath on her -- she's a traitor.  He kept his eyes on Argus, ignoring the other.  He'd never shifted into a snake before, but she reminds him of one.  I should turn into a bird and- No. Aine.  His friend was here somewhere.  He breathes instead, brows creasing at her inquiry. I wonder how she'd feel if she knew Goldie didn't send me.  No one did.

The youth has to disagree with Goldie if she believes in Argus.  Goldie was the honorable one then, he decided.  For having faith in others.  His captain was the sort of pirate he wanted to be.  He finds little time to dwell on it, before grunting surprise and pain as he hits the ground.  Panic bubbles in his chest but he willfully holds it back.  For Keona, and unknowingly, for someone else.

He keeps his mouth shut this time, but his eyes narrow.

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( you are the dawn of a new day that's waking, a masterpiece still in the making )

[gael]

♛

Dark paws and hazel eyes approached next.  Impassively, the vulpine regarded the crowd and assessed the situation.  A so-called 'scout' apprehended by Argus?  The faerie only creased his brows briefly in thought, tilting his head as Redvox made his protests.

Gael once found himself with the opportunity to harm a child.  His own niece, captured by Jervis himself, had become open game as a prisoner.  Furious with the endangerment of his daughter, the vulpine nearly snapped entirely, deciding to 'make an example' out of her.  Yet he had hesitated, and in the escalation of events following, 'Embry' may have harmed the girl but only enough to frighten her.

He doubted someone would have to step in for Argus.  The dragon seemed to care little or not the boy was simply a boy.  From what he could see of the small feline, he made a silent guess to put him a little over Aine's physical age.  An unfortunately easy time to grow traumatized by the right series of events.

In conclusion, Gael decided the boy should not have been scouting for his band of pirates.  He had not taken precaution enough to evade capture in a time of high tensions and war.  The naivety of youth.

"Vox," he states simply, blankly.  "While normally I agree with your sentiments, a scout is fair game.  Do you want spies in our midst?" How ironic, to warn of spies, when he knew of one by name.  Gael hardly wanted Vox to remain naive however; this was how many of the Pitt operated.  This is where their reputation came from.  Pitt's reputation or not... The world doesn't care about the children.  Or else his son would not have died in cold-blooded murder.

He harbored little doubts of the tides turning on the Pitt for it one day soon, but then, there was a reason the faerie possessed the bare minimum of loyalty for the group.  The only thing that mattered to him here was Aine.  If the members of this group were strong, they could offer a protected sanctuary for her.  Should things turn, going too far south, he'd move on.

"ISN'T IT LOVELY?" —-- gael ó broin / faerie / pittian / lamby

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[ARGUS]

Argus was a beacon of light, their scales that of pure snow, even sand tusseled argus was graceful, intimidating in a form they were still finding themselves in. In a body that was only meant to be seen on the outskirts of war- argus abandoned their own principals. They had no morals, no pride, they had little beside the stories they could weave. They could acclaim to come from ruins bathed in blood, from an isle surrounded by a river, from a home errupting with manga, and all would be true. To live more than one life could be seen as a gift, but with each life the sins tallied against them; the deaths took their tolls, the dead named somewhere deep inside their head stuck on repeat, like a static that never fades.

Their names all but forgotten, save for the one they call themselves now.

Argus noted the apprach of another pittian, gael: a fox they knew little of beside the asociation - the mere presence of marked them as a pittian. Neutral if argus could detect from the lack of aprehention, or glee at seeing the specticale. Ten eyes kept focus on their capture. wine colored eyes  taking in the sielnt frame of their capture; small, a child.

In innocent turned messenger, but what kind of message did argus want to give?

IKAIA was found near the borders, near argus' home as a 'scout', looking in in a place they knew nothing about. Argus could care less, about scouts - could care less about most things beside their ex home. It was the reason they were here - to watch. Grow learn, tell stories from what argus can tell will be the loosing side to an all out war. This scout should be blinded, or at least marked, a reminder if nothing else.

Argus' thoughts churn with ideas, brazenly looking out to the crowd, growing smaller by the moment, pittians speaking out about it all, argus uses her front legs to hold IKAIA still, a winged joint coming down to start the marking. Their face zeroed for expressions of pain, for watching the other attempt to twist out of the way - and straiten the cuts. Argus begins to carve 8 large lines into the child's face. Two down the center, two more above the eyes, two beside that, and the last two under the eyes. There was a grin as they did it, that looked more of a grimace at a closer look as argus worked. As they released IKAIA , their work done ; the results could be seen - a resembelence between the two.

A mark - their own mark etched onto a child's face. Cuts deep enough to make the outline clear. WHere they cut was a set of eyes on argus' own mask "[glow=#cc3232,2,300]you're one of the first, to carry this mark[/glow]" Argus cuts in, letting go and dropping IKAIA to the ground when their work was done. "[glow=#cc3232,2,300]but you won't be the last, don't worry about that [/glow]"

[ikaia]

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⚓ IKAIA | current track ♪ | current shape: oncilla | . . . |
The boy knows his 'plan' happened to be spiraling far downhill.  He's too stubborn to admit any regret for his choices. No, he's certain he'll complete his self-assigned mission, even with the massive setback.  There is hesitance in his brief struggle, realizing plainly he was pinned and not going anywhere.  Staring into the eyes of the beast as it were, Ikaia grit his teeth, determined to be the pirate he wanted to be.  A completely undaunted adventurer.

Even a willful mind fails to ignore the simplicity of pain (red hot like fire running down his face, unceasing).  Liquid, burning ice in the shape of deadly claws.  A warrior of no honor, inflicting pain on someone incapable of fighting back -- no fair fights.  She never deserved to be a pirate like Goldie.

He barely notices when it stops, hitting the ground dully.  He dismisses any extra sounds, deaf to Argus' promise.  Instead, he blinks, blood and silent tears out of his eyes.  There is salt on the boy's tongue, likely from biting down too hard as the claws sank into his face.  There is a low growl building in his throat, frustration, hatred and pain the forefront of his mind (dazed, blurry mind).

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( you are the dawn of a new day that's waking, a masterpiece still in the making )

[aine.]

[align=center]— aine | the pitt | fae druid —

The petite vixen spent more time than not tending to her garden.  Her father had emphasized the importance of caring for it, especially in the light of the Pitt's lack of healers.  She dedicated herself to the matter with immense concentration.  Her brother, the lone figment of her imagination, lingered nearby, listening to her conduct her 'scientific' observations.

Only her concentration suddenly shattered.  The glass shards of a focused mind scattered wildly.  Fire barely gave the sensation justice.  No blood drips down her face, or turns the grass scarlet.  Wrong.  Her brother can offer no assistance to her pained cry.  The fae stumbles.  Trembling paws.  The pond in the center of her garden, with its reflective waters, offered no answers.  No injury.

Yet the child knew something had hurt her.  On impulse, she searched for flames, for soot and smoke, but the trees were clear.  Nothing burned.  So, sniffling, wobbling on uneven legs, Aine seeks out camp.  Her father must be somewhere... Her father could help...

But there is iron in the air.  Pain.  Her vision is blurry when she locks onto her father.  What he is spectating she doesn't fully see yet.  She practically falls onto him, cheeks wet.  "Ça fait mal, da. Ça fait mal." Her words stumble over each other, quick with a child's confused panic.

Then the vixen spots him.  Familiar in a small, spotted cat's shape.  Blood on his face.  So much red.  "Ikai." Her head shakes, numb with shock.  Bitter betrayal burns, suddenly alive in hazel hues, turning on her father, who had watched.  Desperate for him to put an end to whatever had happened, to deal consequences for the harm of both her best friend and herself.  "Ikai… Ca m'a fait mal aussi."

— I'll come back when you call me —

[gael]

♛

Dark, glinting eyes sharpen dramatically, alert in the collision of a small form against his legs.  Gael's brow creases in response, aware of the softer, friendlier nature of his young daughter.  Like Redvox, he expected nothing short of dismay for torture of any kind.

Instead she's crying for something else.  Wet, pained tears, and a hot white rage unfurls in the vulpine's chest.  A demand for who hurt her never left his clenched jaws, as she made her point clear.  The language of his late wife grew less and less familiar day by day, but Gael understood.

His cold apathetic stare turned ice hot on Argus, his mind carefully working through the gears and puzzle pieces.  She complained of pain without obvious injury, only to see the injury on the Typhoon scout.  I have heard of such connections.  "A leanbh... Tá brón orm."

"Argus," his voice is quiet, but direct and forceful.  No did not exist as an option. "This is not a request, but in the wake of this development, I would like to take the boy under my care." While the faerie planned on dealing with the strange matter of Aine knowing the boy's name, the fact stood -- so long as the boy felt the pain of his injuries, so would she.  Harm coming to his daughter was unacceptable.

"ISN'T IT LOVELY?" —-- gael ó broin / faerie / pittian / lamby

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