WE SHALL NOT BE MOVED ☆ markers

[wormwood.]

Ever since the death of Leroy, one of the two shining lights leading Tanglewood, things had fallen into a state of disarray. Aurum had hardly seen Crow around at all, Selby was injured from that fucking fight with the Pitt, Delilah was having a mental breakdown over losing another old friend, and amazing, Feza was one of the only damn people around here that was actually in an acceptable state. It was actually sort of infuriating, how Feza managed to let things just roll over her and move on with her life while also attempting to cheer everyone in the group up. Sure, Aurum was holding himself together, but that was only so that not everybody would be falling apart in the swampland dwelling Tanglewood. It was rough, especially since he wanted to screech in fury and agony whenever he thought about Leroy's death for more than a few seconds, but he was trying. In his trying, he had decided to go and do some tasks in the group that had been neglected in the group for far too long now, especially considering that Beck was now gone – vanished into thin air, as if the ghost had finally passed on. The markings that had once covered the territory, marking where there was prey, where there were traps and what direction the camp was in, had faded quite a bit over time, and now they were barely visible on the trees around the territory, something that annoyed the shit out of Aurum, considering it led to more than a few incidents involving the traps that Beck had set up when first making the territory of Tanglewood theirs. Whether it be back when Moth had first been accidentally scooped up by a trap, or when a new joiner came and had to deal with nearly being eaten by gators, they needed the markings, and Aurum had decided he was going to do a huge tour of the territory to try and refresh most of them.

So, that was exactly what the guardsman had gone and done. Of course, he had been incredibly careful when it came to figuring out where the hell the traps were, since he wasn't particularly in the mood to get caught in some elaborate shit he couldn't escape from. Carefully, the winged lion had flown over most of the territory, occasionally pressing the barest minimum of touches against the earth to see if it set anything off. Occasionally it did, and that was when Aurum would yank himself back, hissing in annoyance before moving to remake the mark of warning in a nearby tree or log. The Mark's were thankfully not that hard to tecarve, but it occasionally took a few minutes for him to remember what the hell some of the markings were for certain things, since they hadn't exactly been too widespread lately – another thing that wasn't super ideal, considering what the markers were fucking for. If nobody knew them, they wouldn't exactly be useful. Still, he shook that thought off, flying across the territory and going from place to place, carving the markers in one by one with his claws. Eventually he got to the boundary of the town, settling down near one of the trees and reaching up to carefully carve the "camp" symbol into the tree trunk, smiling just a bit at the satisfying scratching noise that came from his claws sinking into the bark. That was the last one, and he found himself finally able to let his paws touch the ground again, confident that he wasn't about to go plummeting down into a pit. As he walked into the town, he decided he would solve the second part of the issues with his little plan. Clearing his throat, the lion roared loudly, "Hey! Does anybody around here not know the tree markers we use around here? If not, come over here, please!" He had to review pretty much all of them before doing this, so he figured he was pretty qualified to teach them to others at this point – they'd probably be firmly pressed into his eyelids every time he closed his eyes for the next week or so.

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

[fulzanin]

WE'LL MAKE A WAY WHERE YOU CAN FIND YOUR PLACE
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Feza didn't really leave the town often. She stayed in her home while creating her festivities. She went and got food from the pile, and brought it back to her home to eat. Her festivities were usually done inside the camp as well. The snow leopard was fine to take in the security that came from living in a group. She had craved such a thing ever since she'd been cast out from her home due to her vibrant colors and excitable personality. It was something that created a baseline of happiness, one that even thrived when she had been deadly terrified. The snow leopard didn't pride her own joy. She only prided herself as the 'official partythrower'. Guardsman too, she did cherish that title as well, but more often she tossed around her more festive name than the one that actually held power. The snow leopard, if pressed, would mention such a thing, but commonly she preferred to just be known as the festive person she portrayed herself as.

"Aurum," the snow leopard said as she came bounding over as the look on her face flickered with 'joke incoming', "markers are for coloring, not for trees, silly!" She came to a halt. Her wings fluffed and ruffled, shifted before again settling close to her sides. They often in the past were pressed so tightly into her sides that they would hurt her ribs. Feza brushed that off just as much as she did fatality. Other than her own, of course. Feza, in truth, hardly even knew of the death of the deputy. Someone had died, she knew. There'd been a battle too. Feza couldn't quite decide if they were separate or the same. It was brain power devoted to something other than festivities, and so the train of thought swiftly ended. "I'm kidding. I don't actually know these.. 'tree marker' things. I'm assuming they're not actual markers. If, if they are then uh, I'll go. 'Cause I do know what those are." The snow leopard briefly rambled. Was a tree marker a tree with marker scribbles on it? Feza had absolutely no idea. Her face scrunched a little in thought, ears raising to aid her confused and curious expression.

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THE EMPTY CHAIRS WILL BE RESERVED FOR OUR PITY

[wormwood.]

i was born, on the highway, in a train wreck

with a heart, that was beating, out of my chest

Guardsman, despite being the title that Feza technically held, had never been what Aurum had actually considered the snow leopard to be. After all, Feza didn't know how to fight, didn't go on patrols very often, – as far as Aurum could tell – and didn't exactly work that hard to actually defend the group. He wasn't bitter about it, really, but he wasn't exactly surprised that Feza didn't know anything about the tree markers the group usually used. A soft sigh left him when Feza came over and immediately shot a joke off at him, but he didn't snap or anything like that, just shaking his head a bit. Even though she was joking, it was still a little bit annoying, considering this was supposed to be a serious teaching. Feza probably didn't even know what an actual serious class was though, considering the only class he had ever seen her host before was a kazoo one, and those never seemed to go her way in the slightest. Thankfully, this particular little venture wouldn't end like when Aurum had hosted the sparring course, when Feza had been scared shitless because of the fact that he was attacking her – even if Aurum had only been play fighting at the time. At some point he wanted to try it again, since Feza really did need to learn how to fight if she was going to properly help anybody, but... for now this would do.

Shaking his head from side to side, the winged lion rumbled as he dug his claws in and out of the ground below him, a release of any potential annoyance he had been feeling, "Feza... no, they're not actual markers. They're markings, which get carved into trees. They're meant to represent various things, like warnings for traps, or directions to our camp... they're supposed to only be recognizable by Tanglers, so that our enemies can't head straight into our camp or anything." At the very least, he was fairly sure that none of their enemies knew the markings yet... he hoped the fuck not, cause if they did, they were fucked ten ways to sunday. Taking a deep breath, Aurum stretched out a paw to begin carving markings into the ground, making them as clear as possible so that Feza could understand them easily, "The markers are organized into four different categories, and all have different uses. They can be very useful when used correctly, but we've allowed them to fade from the trees lately. Not to mention the fact that we need them for Beck's fucking traps... I've got no idea where the hell he is nowadays, unfortunately." His ears pinned down against his head, his eyes filling with worry for a moment before he shook it off, letting out a sigh. People disappeared all the time, and usually they returned. He could only hope it was another case of that.

template by orion

[arcy]

[align=center]

[glow=#000,1,400]all you've ever done is been a noose to hang on to — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

[div style="width: 480px; height: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 13px;"]Tanglewood was .. sort of in chaos. Crowley wasn't sure what to make of it, personally. His bubble of awareness largely only extended to three people, because he hadn't really .. encountered everyone else. Try as he might, it was impossible to make himself care the same amount as everybody else seemed to. It didn't effect him much, and none of it was even close to the worst thing's he'd seen in history. He wasn't apathetic, it was just ..
Anyways.
Crowley had noticed faded markings on the trees, yes, but he hadn't really minded them. Who knew if they were still relevant, if they were so old? Needless to say, it was largely luck that had Crowley avoiding most of Tanglewood's dangers. Which was .. probably where all of Crowley's luck was going, to be entirely honest. Nobody in their right mind would call Crowley lucky.
"Hadn't occurred to me to worry about them, honestly," Crowley admits, almost sheepish. He's apparently decided not to worry about whatever Feza's going on about, because he doesn't acknowledge her. He does, however, step closer to look at the markings Aurum is drawing in the dirt. Half-heartedly tries to commit them to memory. Chances are he won't really worry about them, but he should probably be able to recognize them when he sees them. "Didn't think they were still in use, honestly," He shrugs. Lots of things faded from use over time. Sometimes it just happens that they're .. actually pretty helpful. Crowley, for all his luck in avoiding danger, did in fact have some troubles with navigating, initially. He knew it pretty well by this point, at least. It helped that Crowley didn't need to sleep, as much as he enjoyed to. So he could spend some time getting used to the territory, instead.

[wormwood.]

i was born, on the highway, in a train wreck

with a heart, that was beating, out of my chest

Aurum couldn't say he didn't understand why Crowley might not have been feeling recent events as hard as the rest of them. After all, even though Crowley had been here for a little while, he had hardly been around as long as some of them, and hadn't really had a chance to get heavily involved in the war with the Pitt, or form a relationship with Leroy. Still, Aurum found himself almost envious when he glanced over at Crowley, noticing the way that the other didn't have the telltale signs of anxious exhaustion hanging over him like most of them – at least not for the same reasons. When the demon stepped up and mentioned that he hadn't been giving the markings much thought, the lion let out a deep rumbling chuckle before mumbling, stretching his wings out and carving out the last of the markings, "It is true that they haven't been used or updated much lately, but that doesn't mean that they're not useful – it just means that someone along the way forgot to keep using them. They're actually quite helpful. I mean, Beck's traps might be helpful as fuck to keep people out, but they've also caused a ton of trouble for those of us inside Tanglewood without the markings, too." Going out and mapping each and every one of Beck's traps that he could find had been arduous and more than a little annoying, but he felt like it was worth it, especially so he didn't have to deal with anything like when Moth had gotten trapped in one a while back. He then said, gently tapping a claw down against one of the markings for "bad water," a sigh leaving him, "Plus it's good to have stuff that can warn Tanglers of the inherent dangers of the swamp itself. Tanglewood might be a lot nicer than it was back when Beck first founded it from what I know, but that doesn't mean it's totally safe. And these things will be good for preventing people from getting snatched up by gators or something like that."

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[fulzanin]

WE'LL MAKE A WAY WHERE YOU CAN FIND YOUR PLACE
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Perhaps Feza would be wounded, if she was able to read thoughts. Specifically of how Aurum thought that she was not fit to be Guardsman. However, she could not. She was oblivious to the other's thoughts - and in truth it was probably for the better. Feza was already unstable as it was, the snow leopard was able to bounce back and forth at such an alarming pace that it truly was questionable how 'stable' she was. Her blue eyes watched him shake his head. Of course, that meant that she did not see the other sunk his claws into the ground. Another thing that, likely, was for the better. The snow leopard truthfully liked being oblivious. She liked being the go-to for an escape for all the serious matters of the group. "Just had to, to double check, 'cause they both use the same word," The vibrant feline muttered, but she quieted herself. Feza hadn't seen the other's motion of dispersing his annoyance, but that didn't mean that she could not feel it. Briefly. Very briefly. Faint as well. Feza let such roll off of her quickly, for it was not happy and had no reason to plague her mind. Instead, she quizzically tilted her head. "Who's Beck? Why're they setting up traps? I, I don't think I'd like to stumble into a trap. Definitely need those marked." Feza hadn't actually ever known Beck by name. Her one interaction had been when the other had created a pinata modeled after the leader. No name had been said - not that Feza bothered to remember.

Feza shuffled a little closer, watching Aurum carve out the marking. She couldn't quite understand the marking. It looked odd to her, and her tail curled behind her. "So, what's that marking you just made do? Or, or, what's the four different kinds you said?" The snow leopard questioned. Her ears were raised and perked, and a curious expression remained on her face. She, thankfully, seemed to have tossed her jokes to the side. Now her interest was raised, leaning forward on her feet to look at the mark that had been constructed more closely. Her mind whirred with an idea, but the vibrant female managed to shut it down. No, colorful ribbons probably wouldn't work. Not only would it be too festive for such a serious thing, but they'd be way too noticeable. But, Feza then reasoned to herself, when had she ever looked at the trees for marks? The snow leopard couldn't answer her own question, and settled for trying to figure out, on her own, what the marking meant. "Is this for, for one of those trap thingies?"

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THE EMPTY CHAIRS WILL BE RESERVED FOR OUR PITY

[wormwood.]

i was born, on the highway, in a train wreck

with a heart, that was beating, out of my chest

Truthfully, if Feza ever admitted that she preferred to be in the dark, Aurum probably wouldn't have been too surprised. There were certain occasions where it seemed like Feza purposefully ignored or "forgot" information that wasn't in the best interests of her fun-making activities, and it did seem at times like it was a case of being oblivious on purpose. Aurum didn't really bring it up when these times did happen, but there was a small part of hin that wanted to just add that onto the list of reasons why he sometimes felt supreme annoyance with the snow leopard. Still, that wasn't the point right now, and Aurum pushed those thoughts aside as he listened to the other guardsman, a soft snort leaving him when Feza pointed out that markers had two different meanings. He very much knew that, and he could only hope that Feza had really meant it as a joke, since he was pretty sure he had made it quite sure what type of marker he was talking about. Slowly wrapping his tail around his paws, the lion listened to Feza for another moment before letting out a soft noise of surprise, absolutely stunned that someone who had been here as long as he had didn't know who Beck was. He rumbled as his eyes flicked off in the direction of Beck's boathouse, a soft sigh leaving him as he remembered the last time he had tried to visit the other, how he had found everything eerily abandoned and disorienting, "Beck was the first leader of the group, the one who made Tanglewood. The ghost? You have to have met him before... he was around quite a bit, before..." Before what? Well, Aurum wasn't quite sure what really had been the instigating event that had just made Beck disappear, but obviously something had. Perhaps the same thing that made Red disappear... the thought of the gorilla made his stomach twist painfully, and he took in a deep breath, refocusing on the markings he had drawn.

Closing his eyes briefly to let his emotional thoughts settle, the older of the two guardsmen tapped his claw against four different markers, saying simply, "The four different types of symbols are hunting, water, directions, and danger. All of then are pretty self explanatory. Traps are marked under dangers, as well as directions, in case you want to lure an enemy into one." He hoped very much that there wouldn't be any sort of enemies sneaking over their borders and trying to attack anybody after the raid, but one could never be sure, and he preferred to have the traps rather than be without them, and have someone possibly get captured. Pointing to another of the markers he had made – a square with a line diagonally through it – the lion rumbled promptly, "This one is a directional marker for a trapdoor. Generally, if you see this, you're not gonna wanna be on the solid ground ahead of it. The water ones are poisonous water, safe water, leeches, and trash... again, all pretty self explanatory. You see this...?" He pointed his claw at another of the markings, a line with an x through it, "This indicates poisonous water. If you see this, you shouldn't drink the water near it, obviously." He then said, rolling his shoulders and yawning widely – the markers wont the most exciting subject in the world, but they were important, "There's a wide variety of hunting ones. They're pretty much all for indicating what type of prey you can find in any area. They're obviously useful if you're looking for a specific thing for lunch or dinner." He wasn't sure if Feza was actually listening to him talk about all of this, but he hoped that she was. After all, this would be useful for her too, if she learned to pay attention to the trees.

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[spacexual]

IT'S THE THOUGHT THAT YOU MIGHT HAVE DONE IT [align=right]BUT YOU CAN'T KNOW WHY    —    tags 

The boy is supposed to be home now, with his father. Perhaps it is time he tried to learn more about that home - interact with it. He wanted to, so badly, but it was...scary. He was no longer on fire, and the threats of the flames were gone, despite the memories that he now could slowly, but surely recall. Static removed from his head, voices quiet, he could finally think. He could finally process...slowly. Everything would come in slow. And he needed it to be that way, admittedly. Everything had been too fast, too overwhelming. He needs time. His young mind still cannot understand it all. His young mind still feels guilt, and sadness, and pain...and fear, as well. But, he needs to, at the very least, try to overcome his fears. Prove to himself he can be home. Prove to others, too. He's supposed to be home.

He should not be so dependent upon his father, but it is the only sense of safety he holds now. His brother is gone, and he does not have to hurt anyone ever again, and Aurum has proven to him that he won't give up, no matter what, on the boy. So, when the tiger hears his dad's voice, his paws would carry him towards it, rounded ears pointed towards the sound. His head is held low as he comes towards the scene slowly, glowing eyes looking cautiously towards the other two that had arrived. He recognized one of them. The other, not so much. Either way, neither would know him very well. He hangs back at first, listening to the voice of his father.

After a few moments, though, he hears Beck's name, and he blinks. The ghostly boy was the founder of this group? How unexpected. More curiosity trickles in. But, it is interrupted as the lion continues to speak over the different traits of their territory, noting the various symbols he explains. "So how do we renew all the markings?" he asks quietly, tilting his head. Surely there'd be a lot to cover.

[wormwood.]

i was born, on the highway, in a train wreck

with a heart, that was beating, out of my chest

Upon hearing more soft footsteps approaching the scene, Aurum turned and immediately smiled when he saw Roy trotting over, glad to see his son out and about around the territory. Ever since the other had returned from the Pitt, Aurum had been anxious that the other wouldn't ever end up leaving their house again, too worried about having another breakdown like before and hurting people, but it seemed that thankfully he had been wrong. Tanglewood was not only Aurum's home, but it was also Roy's home now, and Aurum found himself moving over to gently touch his nose to his son's head, before other had even spoken up at all. The lion's tail flicked from side to side behind him as he settled back down, one of his wings draping itself over Roy's shoulders. Aurum honestly didn't mind Roy being dependent on him at the moment, considering how independent he had been as a younger lion had been as a result of being abused, and Aurum definitely hoped that Roy didn't feel as though he was being abused, ignored as Aurum had been when he had been younger. Still, he couldn't help but feel proud that Roy was showing signs of being independent, and exploring around the territory without him, even though that exploring had led the tiger straight back to him and his class.

When Roy asked how they would be able to renew all the markings, Aurum chuckled and said as he gestured towards the trees with a large golden and red wing, "Well, I already refreshed some of the markings as I was reviewing all of these. Mostly the important ones, like the traps and stuff like poison or irradiated water. If we want to renew all of them, then we could split into groups and go searching for things to mark before carving them into the nearby trees. And of course, if we come across any markers that have faded over time, we could look nearby and see if the tree marking is still relevant. If it is? We receive it! Pretty simple, but I can't really do it all on my own. My wings would eventually just get exhausted and I'd collapse." Truthfully he might've been able to do it on his own with just a few days, but he wanted to get it done fairly quickly, so that the markers would be relevant again fairly fast. That way, the guardsman wouldn't be forced to host this class over and over again... for a little while, at the very least. Unless they got a sudden huge influx of joiners who would need to be educated in the ways of the tree markers.

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[arcy]

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It certainly wouldn't do for Tanglers to get hurt by their own defenses, it's true*. And they did have quite a lot, natural or otherwise. Quite frankly, once it's actually occurred to him**, Crowley is shocked they've been able to function without anything warning them. So, as Aurum explains the benefits of them, Crowley hums and nods.
It's a wonder they'd need traps to begin with, what with the swamp itself.
*There's a certain irony in Crowley, specifically, having this thought.
**Nobody had ever tried to claim Crowley was particularly observant.
... Still, it's a bit alarming that there's so many. It's no problem for Crowley to remember them, of course, it'll just take .. a bit of brainwork. Of course, half of these were optional for Crowley, being what he was, but Crowley was never one to halfass things. .. If he was actually invested, he means. He can't say he's ever tried particularly hard at Hell's assignments. Crowley squints at them as Aurum explains, making a strange expression. Even when Aurum is done, he doesn't look up until Roy speaks.
... It's actually terribly sweet, the way Aurum greets the tiger. Crowley wouldn't admit to it, though, and will probably deny as such until the day he dies.
That might not be that far away.
Don't offer. Don't offer. Don't offer. Don't offer. Crowley chants to himself. He's a demon, he can't be helpful, he can't do things without an ulterior motive. He hasn't run into trouble yet, there's no reason for him to offer.
"I wouldn't mind helping out," He shrugs. For fuck's sake. It looks like Aziraphale isn't the only exception to his rules about not being .. kind, or helpful, or whatever***. His expression twitches, but he smirks at Aurum nonetheless. "Feels sort of half-complete, if we haven't got all of them yet," Again, Crowley wasn't one to half-stuff things. Or let stuff be incomplete as far as he reads them, apparently. Even if he hadn't been originally been involved, and didn't even have to be.
Crowley finds this very minorly frustrating. This is inconsequential. Crowley gets frustrated about a lot of things.
***In reality, Crowley would probably offer if it'd been somebody else, too. He was just deluding himself. He was just a little faster about it, since it was Aurum. That was all.

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