i'm the devil in gucci | open + theatrics

[MADI]

ROSEPAW DARLING ✧ tanglewood — rookie — tags

[div style="background-color: #f9dbe0; border: 1px black solid; width: 500px; line-height: 110%; word-wrap: break-word; text-align: justify; margin-top: -1px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; color: black; padding: 10px; text-size: 10px"]
[ *pretends rosie's joining thread was actually two days ago and not several weeks in the past* ]

Rosie was not the type to make a quiet entrance. She was a baby doll princess, all pretty looks and fierce personality. Where she went, she made certain that everyone was aware of her and basking in her considerable glory. Therefore, a few days after she was welcomed into this drab swamp of a territory, it was quite out of character for her not to have made herself more known.

Of course, she had arrived a bit late in the day originally, and dedicated her time to perfecting her room. It was, of course, crucial that she had somewhere beautiful to come back to whenever she grew bored (or simply tired of swamp and more swamp). The second day she'd decided to explore a bit on her own before demanding that others pay attention to her and take her on more thorough tours. Which, really, is where she had made her critical error.

(God, she knew she should have just made a scene and forced these new Clanmates of hers to lead her around. Clearly, taking the less attention-seeking route could only end terribly.)

The dainty white wolf was furious as she finally stormed back into their camp, covered in mud and sullen. Even the chrysanthemums that sprouted in her pawsteps looked soggy, weighed down by the mud coating her paws. Pandora, the tiny hummingbird spirit, fluttered anxiously over her shoulder as the diva dramatically came to a stop, lifted her head, and screamed, "BECKY!"

There was a pause as she waited, a very clear pout in place. Evidently Rosie didn't need that much of an audience to work herself up in front of, because it only took a couple of started glances for her to start ranting, "Becky, this hell swamp is trying to kill me! I don't know how, but I know you're doing this, ghosty boy -- tell your damn swamp to stop attacking me!" There was a pause, as she narrowed her baby blue eyes, and then she demanded, "Did you curse me?! You cursed me, didn't you! BECKY!"

[Luciferr]

FENRISULFR

▼ — when the weak court death, they find it.

space

Fenrisulfr after a night of patrolling was rather tired and this the war God was or had been looking forward to dozing most of the morning away before waking early afternoon and continuing about his own voices.

Obviously given the way the morning was going, his hope sere being dashed as a loud demanding voice outside his own abode woke the wolf beast from his light doze, having just gotten comfortable.

Figures,

He squinted into the shrouded darkness of his room - he'd decorated it a tad, but it still looked Spartan but a key feature had been dark fabric to block out the outside world, for wouldn't the son of a God of darkness find it more appealing, heh - groggy eyes blinked unsure if the shout had been real for a moment but the following complaint proved the theory true.

He grimaced and talons scraped floorboards as his legs heaved him upwards and Fenris padded to the door looking outwards and squinting at the loud unfamiliar figure calling for their illustrious leader - half tempted to just turn back around and throw a pillow over his ears in a vain attempt to try and get back more sleep.

space

▲ — MALE. TANGLEWOOD. VERY HARD. REF. BIO. — ▲

#psychosocial.

[beck.]

    No wonder Beck was a restless spirit; he couldn't catch himself a break between the obnoxious whining for his attention and struggling to keep track of all the ignorant creatures he was responsible for. He was grossly under-prepared for the role, if it wasn't obvious already, but somehow he was staying afloat through nothing less than a miracle. One of his methods to preserving what little sanity he had left was keeping himself distracted with busy work throughout the day. The boy had been trying to clean his dagger, usually rubbing away at the crimson stains with his injured paw -- needless to say, he wasn't making much progress without the aid of soap or water. He was tempted to just give up and lick the blood off the blade -- his toxic spit did contain cleaning chemicals, after all -- as a last resort, but a familiar snobbish howl shrieking out his name caught him terribly off-guard. Nearly jumping out of his apparition, Beck frantically glanced around for the source, lantern-like eyes stretched wider than glowing saucers until they locked onto Rosepaw's blurred silhouette. Oh, he had been wondering where she had gotten off to. In all honesty, he hoped she had been swallowed up by a convenient sinkhole. Flicking his notched ear, the spindly feline fluffed out his pelt, dark fur bristling with grime as he tilted his head towards her direction. Cut out her tongue, Becky, then she won't annoy us anymore. His freckled features twisted into an exasperated grimace, and turning away from her, he meekly grumbled, "Don't call me Becky."

    Glimpsing a groggy Fenrisulfr peeking out at the scene, Beck did his best to ignore her, twirling the tip of his dagger on his gauze-wrapped paw pad. When the dainty wolf finished her ranting, he swiveled his head back around to glower up at her. Hell swamp? Curses? What was she rambling about? "Maybe if ya quit your wanderin' off alone to who knows where, and actually, uh, helped out 'round here, then my 'damn swamp' would stop tryin' t' kill ya," the commander wheezed, a hollow sigh escaping his chest with a damaged rattle and a bored eye-roll. It wasn't that hard to understand; if someone went into the swamp alone, they were likely to end up lost and, yes, covered in mud. Beck gave a hoarse sniff, wiping his inky nose on the back of his paw before asking, "Look, what d'ya even want from me? I'm kinda busy, if ya can't tell," A muddied paw waggled his blood-stained dagger at her muzzle to emphasize his point.

[align=center]»――➤