MY WOUND / . JOINING

[REDSTEEL]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: calibri; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 1.4;"]How fucking exhausting, this whole goddamn world. Redsteel wouldn't consider himself unprepared for it all — he'd been trained to the end of his rope, dangled like bait over the teeth of monsters. He was meant to succeed, and he fucking would, he had to, but the longer this chase drags on, the less faith he has in its kind conclusion. The asshole he's tracking down is, well, a fucking asshole and it feels like a game sometimes. It was funny at first, a little endearing. Still sort of was, but a little less so now that his throat feels dry and a hammer pounds at the back of his head. He wanted — he wishes he could say that he would like to go home, but he doesn't think of that place as his home and if he never went back until the day he died it'd still be too soon. Really, he just wants something to drink.

The stuff they gave him kept him steady and strong. It made his powers easier to use. It made him feel good. And if he finally caught up with Witch at some point before he keeled over, that would feel good too. Could probably drink him in just as willingly, fuck that's so sentimental; he's gone stupid for someone that laid him out just once. He'll blame withdrawals for that too, and the constant comfort of roses and old books hanging around his neck. The other canine isn't the only one Red's looking for, but he's the priority. Stronger than most of the others wandering about, too fucking smart. And kind of stupidly charming for someone who looked like a polished granite slab to anyone who didn't know him.

Fuck. He really needs a lobotomy.

The dog fluffs out his wings, the smattering of smooth stripes rustling and then falling back to their half-neat order. There's not even enough space here to stretch them out; makes him feel a little claustrophobic if he's being honest, and that feeling isn't helped by the way his paws squish into the ground. "If you don't make this worth my time, Witch —" the half-hearted threat is only muttered to the vial of liquid dangling from his throat, not even finished with all of the effort he ends up putting into rearing his weight up out of thick mud.

Frustrated and muddy, even his fluffy wings flecked with the gross stuff, Redsteel barks harshly. "I'm going to burn it all to the ground, I swear!"

[wormwood.]

The lion was startled out of his thoughts while wandering through the territory by the sound of shouting, and his ears immediately pinned against his head when he heard the actual words leaving the other male's mouth. He didn't know what the fuck Redsteel was talking about, with some strange comment about a "witch", but the newly promoted guardsman didn't really like the implication that whoever this asshole was, he was going to set the place on fire. This was his home, and it was now even his job to protect it, so the lion stretched out his wings and ambled over to where Redsteel was, glad that he wasn't in his tiny new form at the moment. When he saw the winged canine before him, his eyes narrowed and he stepped forward from the shadows of the swampland, annoyance clear in his tone as he rumbled softly at the other male, "Excuse me, I don't know who the hell you are, or what you're talking about, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't set our fucking territory on fire, since this is the territory of Tanglewood, and you'll have quite a few people on your ass if you decide to "burn us down to the ground". So would you mind giving me your name and why you're here, or am I going to have to run you out of here?" He knew he was being hostile, which wasn't something he usually did with those that showed up at the border, but Redsteel had started off the interaction with hostility, and his threats against their lands didn't exactly endear Wormwood to him in the slightest.

When it really came down to it, Worm had no goddamn idea what Redsteel was talking about while he waited at their border, threatening someone that he didn't even know if he was familiar with. He didn't know of anybody here who called themselves a witch, and he also didn't know of anyone with someone chasing after them, but he supposed if they had someone coming after them, they probably wouldn't have shared it with everyone around them. He could already see the disgust and claustrophobia on Redsteel's face as the male stood in front of him, and he found himself wanted to defend Tanglewood's territory the best he could, even though when he had joined he had disliked their territory a great deal as well. However, he had grown used to the humid swampy environment that Tanglewood resided in, and even found that he sort of liked it. However, the guardsman was also unaware of everything that Red had gone through to get here, so perhaps he was being a bit judgemental without a firm basis. He couldn't really help it – Red had just made a pretty shitty first impression, which was something that was usually very hard to fix.

[glow=black,2,300]THE FREEDOM OF FALLING[/glow]

[REDSTEEL]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: calibri; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 1.4;"]Of course the first one to approach him is like this. Bigger than him, but that doesn't mean shit to him. He's taken on bigger and won, though that was when his head wasn't swimming from withdrawal and he had enough space to actually do shit. This guy's probably a little more experienced fighting in this sort of territory, so he forces himself to calm down and not fuck it all up even more by picking a fight. The dog's face twists into strange shapes of irritation and displeasure, curling lips and narrowing eyes. "Oh fuck off," he snorts, though there's no real bite to his words now that there's somebody in front of him. That means there's hope for civilization and maybe a break from this fucking mud. Unless they live in the mud, which is fucking gross. Witch wouldn't even be here anyway, unless he was really trying to throw Red off. The guy was always so fucking...pristine.

Anyway. Back to the task at hand — or paw.

"Cool it, I'm not actually gonna burn shit. It look like I've got a box of fucking matches on me?" He lifts his paws and flutters his wings as if to prove it, a faint snrk of laughter rough in his throat. And he knows that some people around these parts could destroy the world with a snap of their fingers — look at Witch, for fuck's sake — he's not one of them. The magic hunter, with magic of his own. Ha! "Your territory's just fuckin' frustrating. Why the fuck would anyone decide to live here?" On a better (or worse?) day, Red might have just continued with the anger. Picked a fight with the lion because he could and had nothing better to do to sate that itching in his veins. But today he's just tired and worn out and missing a certain stupid mage. And his headache was getting worse, which in itself spells 'a fucking disaster' in Morse Code against his skull.

"Call me Red. I'm looking for a place away from all this mud and also for an asshole winged dog like me, but bigger and kinda like a block of ice. Seen anyone like that?"

[wormwood.]

Well, wasn't this guy just goddamn charming? Wormwood could feel his frustration growing more and more with every word that Redsteel uttered, and dug his claws into the squishy earth beneath him before he took a deep breath in, telling himself to calm down. Despite the abrasive way that Redsteel spoke – Worm found himself frowning at the fact that this newcomer asked to become Red, knowing it would be confusing since they already had a Red here – there was no real malice behind his words, except for maybe towards the territory that Tanglewood inhabited. That was the only thing that got the guardsman to settle, his wings shifting upon his back as he rumbled softly, his ears pinned back as he flicked his paw to clear some of the mud that clung to his fur, "It's best not to tell somebody's whose territory you're on to fuck off, just an fyi. And I was worried about you actually burning shit because I thought that you could do something like this." He held a paw out in front of him, the paw being enveloped in bright red flames for a moment before he snuffed it back out, settling the pads of his feet back against the ground beneath him. Despite the strong power that fire elementals had, they weren't exactly the most uncommon powers in the entire world, and Wormwood wasn't exactly crazy for worrying that perhaps Redsteel had intent behind his words. It wasn't like such a thing hadn't happened before. Not to Tanglewood, but by Crow directly against the Pitt.

He then shook his head from side to side, rumbling as he flapped his wings a little to settle on top of a nearby log, in order to make sure that he wouldn't get his legs any more caked in mud than they already were, "I personally don't know why we decided this would be our territory, you'd have to ask Beck, as far as I know he's the one who settled us here, but... trust me, you grow use to it, at least. As far as whatever dog you're looking for, no. I haven't met or seen anybody like that, as far as I know. We got a few dogs around here, but most of them don't have wings, and they don't get all ice blocky..." Worm glanced down at the muck beneath him for a moment, trying to figure out if he had seen anybody of that nature and not able to come up with anything. They had plenty of dogs in the group, including himself when he was in his hellhound form, but none of them exactly fit the description that Redsteel had given him. He then said, glancing back towards their main little town and wondering if perhaps there was someone around that he just hadn't met yet... it was unlikely, but it could be true, "As for looking for a place away from the mud... well, this place is Tanglewood, and we've got a town in that direction, so you could either join us or visit for a little while. I should warn you though, we've already got a Red in the group, so some people might get confused."

[glow=black,2,300]THE FREEDOM OF FALLING[/glow]

[REDSTEEL]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: calibri; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 1.4;"]Well it wasn't like he ever got classes on how to be likable. Even if he had, the dog probably wouldn't have paid that much attention to it. He wasn't the schoolable sort of guy. He was impulsive and easily angered, snappy and impossible to get along with. He hid his insecurities behind a wall of fiery rage.... All in all, Redsteel was not the most positive creature around. Wormwood is not the first to hate him, and he sure won't be the last. There's still that itch in the back of his mind, whispering make it worse over and over. Push those buttons again, see what it took to make Worm snap at him. Violence and anger was easier than whatever this was. This weird disapproval based on first impressions. It sort of pisses him off, actually, that this guy is presuming to know enough about him to make any sort of fucking judgmental. But despite the narrowing of muddy green eyes, Redsteel doesn't do a thing. Witch wouldn't want him to, and anyway he's so, so tired.

"You say that like you're the first magician I've met," he scorns with a sharp, rather crass-sounding snort. Acting very bit the ill-born commoner he was, and not regretting one single millisecond of it. "You don't burn me, I won't turn you into a fucking zombie. Sounds like a pretty good deal to me." The way he was taught to fight powers was a strange one, sure, but effective nonetheless. Red had no powers he could fight back with, no pouring an imaginary bucket of water on the fire someone else creates. Instead, he tries to...well, it's sort of like he tries to reinforce reality's rules, slipping into their head and getting them to understand that this was not real, this was not the truth of their world. It was unkind, and Red hates the feeling of being in someone else's body. But it works.

These people probably haven't seen the world like he has. Like Witch has. What a world it must be, where magic is free to be used by anyone. The section of this island his home had called its own was secluded, fearful of the powers others wielded and might one day turn on them. Don't they cause more harm than good with these powers? He doesn't ask. Instead, Red scoffs again. Everything about this place is backwards. A group where it's rarer to have wings than to not, a place where magic is trusted and used freely. Where people lived in a fucking swamp. Maker that was a terrible idea.

"Tanglewood, huh? If you haven't seen him, I'll be movin' on soon. Don't worry about having a duplicate for too long. Got shit to do, you know. Rude-as-fuck Witch to find and all." Drained and once again low on hope, the canine twists to nibble lightly at a spot at the base of his wings, sighing through his teeth. "Redsteel'd work for the time being. Just in case. What about you though, big guy? Never introduced yourself."

[wormwood.]

Worm wasn't exactly the type to just hate somebody right off the bat, and he certainly didn't hate Redsteel just from an unpleasant first impression of the other male. It just probably wouldn't color any future interactions between the two of them in a very positive light, at least not at first. When the other male spoke about how he had met mages and witches before, the lion snorted and rumbled as his tail flicked from side to side behind him, his head shaking from side to side, "Trust me, I don't doubt that I'm not the only "magician" you've met. I've met plenty of others that have the same powers as me. As for the whole fucking zombie thing, I'm not too worried. Trust me, been there, done that. It was pretty goddamn unpleasant." He grimaced a bit as he thought of his hellhound form, the grotesque and twisted "undead" looking body having been his personal hell before the male who had turned him into it had died at the hands of Red. If Redsteel tried to do anything like that? Well, Wormwood would probably kill him thanks to the fact that his desire to turn back into a different undead form was not high on his to do list. Just the thought of it made his claws sink down into the log beneath him, the wood splintering and peeling beneath his razor sharp claws.

The angel then realized that Redsteel... was right. He hadn't even thought to introduce himself, and he immediately felt a wave of shame at that fact. He was usually so good at about introducing himself and welcoming joiners into the group... still, Redsteel wasn't exactly like most of the friendly joiners that just trotted up and waited at the border for someone to come and bring them in with a warm smile. A sigh left the lion as he glanced towards camp before rumbling, his wings shifting upon his back and stretching out to the sides as he moved to pluck a few of his loose feathers and putting them aside, "I suppose that you're right that I havent introduced myself... my name is Wormwood, and I'm a guardsman here in Tanglewood. That would be why I was so hard on your words when you first showed up, since it's my entire job here to make sure that we're all safe." He considered for a moment telling Redsteel about the threats that had been showing up to their borders so often lately, but them decided against it. Just because Redsteel didn't smell of Pitt didn't mean that he wasn't some sort of spy or something like that, and Wormwood definitely wasn't about to risk that shit. He them rumbled, his head tilting to one side, "Speaking of which... should I be worried about this "Witch" that you're here looking for? Is he some sort of threat to our group, or are you just looking for him for funsies?"

[glow=black,2,300]THE FREEDOM OF FALLING[/glow]