ALL THIS POWER / unexpected visit

[T. ROUX]

[glow=white,1,400]BUT THEY'VE WRITTEN MY NAME IN THE STARS. I'VE DEALT WITH GREED AND SCARS !｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

Trygve was slowly getting accustomed to the heat of the desert or moreso, the fact that Aine kept pushing him into small bodies of water. It was amusing afterwards but he didn't quite appreciate it when he was shoved away at random moments. The flames that burned from within finally resting, there was no longer a reason for him to be angry. The time he had fought with Brandy being shoved to the farthest parts of the young Roux's mind, he was four months old now. It wouldn't be long until he reached the age of apprenticeship, it made his paws itch with anticipation, he knew that he would be ready for whatever came in his way. Michael still was teaching him all that he needed to know but Trygve was learning how to fight dirty than fair, that's why he never skipped the opportunity to possibly learn something from Gael. When he wasn't being shoved into the nearest stream of water or learning how to fight, he was behind Aine and trying to help around her garden. The mere sight of butterflies making him stiffen up but, he was willing to make some sacrifices. Just for her. His mind betraying him whenever he was alone, the thought of his siblings lingering within his mind. Eulia, Natyli, Jameson, Aceto, and Roan. Oh, how he missed them. He bit down on his tongue only to look up as a giggle broke his brief daze. He blinked in confusion only to see her point to his horn and he winced realizing what it was; a butterfly. Oh, for fucks sake, He thought irritably feeling his skin begin to crawl. He hated butterflies.

He offered a nervous grin knowing that she was aware of his uncanny fear for the delicately winged insects. He could easily swat it away with a heavy paw but he refused to do so, he had already hurt so many people that he had loved around him. Why take it out on a creature that had no idea of the shit that had accumulated in his life? Ry raised a nonexistent eyebrow at the butterfly watching the wings close and open revealing its pattern to the duo, it made him realize that his horns were getting quite sharp as well as longer. A bit of worry blossoming within his gaze, he didn't know why they were growing at a rapid rate and well, he was less than excited. Although, it seemed that they had stopped for now. Trygve would lift up a large paw near his muzzle and scratched at his nose for a moment only to flinch when a butterfly landed onto his paw. This one was different to the other that was perched onto his horns, it was completely white aside from a few black markings, his eyes widened at the sight only to feel his once startled gaze falter to a softer expression. The butterfly was delicate like any other yet, the stark wings and less colorful appearance reminded him of someone dear to him. Eulia. "Mi luna," He finally murmured to the butterfly feeling his body begin to shake lightly, his eyes stinging when tears began to form. He had hurt her. He could never forgive himself for hurting her. "Lo siento, hermanita..." He mumbled out in a broken voice, the butterfly remained there.

An anger bubbled within him, Trygve Roux opening his paw to the butterfly feeling its thin limbs tickle at his burnt pawpads. His gaze darkened in that moment recalling who had been the one to push him over the edge, who was at fault for causing him to feel so much rage at such little time. Brandy, He thought sourly only to realize that Aine had left him alone to retrieve something, now, it was just him and the two butterflies. Ry continued to stare at the snow hued butterfly through half closed eyes, his claws unsheathing and slowly curling around the bug. Trapping them like a venus flytrap, his arm shaking slightly. KILL IT, a voice growled out to him and it made him snap out of his small trance not noticing the flames that were eagerly lapping at his jaws. Those weren't his thoughts and it startled him, he tried to concentrate to rest the fire churning from within. "N-no," He said in a shaky breath as he unfurled his claws away from the delicate creature. SHAME, it hissed only to let out a deep rumble silencing slowly until it felt like a mere echo within his mind. His gaze fixated onto the butterfly within his grip, feeling his shoulders slump as he realized that it was now laying perfectly still within his grasp. He had killed it. His body shakes just a bit, he hated this uncontrollable anger of his. He gritted his teeth with frustration, he needed help... He couldn't keep doing this.

With the delicate creature within his grip, Ry would move to the farthest part of Aine's garden and found a place to bury the butterfly. The draconic jaguar cub leaving with a sweep of his tail, his head lowered in shame.

Traveling through the desert with head bowed, the jaguar cub flinched slightly when sand flew into his face thanks to a passing breeze. A low growl escaping his maw with ears flattened against his cranium, his tail lashing to the sides in frustration. At this point, he didn't have much a clue of where he was heading but he supposed wherever it was, it would be far from Aine's garden. He didn't want to end up killing anything else, his paws sunk into the sand several times as he continued to walk along. Eventually, he was walking upon different lands... The loner lands. His ears perked forward, a small frown appearing on his maw, usually his mother would disapprove of him going this far but, she wasn't here to voice her disapproval. There was a pool of water and several trees that he could climb on top of, his paws began to itch with anticipation. Trygve hurried along wincing at the pain from his side and wheezing slightly, he nearly had forgotten about his injuries the moment he had seen the trees. Yet it didn't stop him from digging his claws into the bark, a sudden happiness flaring within him. Which was rare after what had happened to him those past few days.

It wasn't long before Ry clambered up the tree with such determination, the moment that he laid lazily onto a branch was when he began to wheeze a bit. He should be careful, he could only imagine how upset Aine was that he had decided to leave the garden. He felt guilty for leaving but the happiness that he felt at the time was slowly drowning the guilt, he sighed out in contentment. It took him a moment to realize that there was fire lapping at his jaws, it wasn't burning him as badly and he would lick his paw watching some of the flames catch onto his cracked pawpads. Tiny violet flames dancing within his grip, he wondered if he could practice here more often to get better at this ability of his. If he did then he wouldn't startle Astiar or Aine anymore with his fire, he would climb down from the tree. He lazily limped over to the pool of water, he let his body sink into it only to rumble out happily.

A frown suddenly on his maw, it made him wish that he was basking in the sand under the sun and near the shore where the waves would splash him playfully before returning to the ocean. He couldn't go back. Though his mind shifted to the painting Gael had made with him included in it, maybe he could get the vulpine a few more paints. He was sure that he could trade something to the merchants for them or just steal them, a soft breath left his maw and he shook his head lightly rising to his paws slowly. Maybe he could get Aine a few hibiscus flowers while he was there too? He knew that she loved those or had seemed to have liked them when he had shown her that special place of theirs. It wasn't long before the cub had leapt off of the tree and onto the ground wincing at the pain, he hated these broken ribs that he carried but he would push on too prideful to stop.

He had found a nearby cloak that he did his best in wrapping himself in and made some holes for his horns that had grown longer and sharper since the last he had been to the Typhoon,  he was growing and frankly, it wouldn't be much longer until he hit five months old. A deep breath slipped from his lips as he trudged throughout the loner lands heading in the direction of his birth lands, his tufted ears perked forward. He was already drawing near and well, there was no turning back anymore as his paws sunk into the sand. A smile tugging his lips upwards then it faltered realizing the destruction in front of him. He didn't know what happened but his heart immediately dropped the urge to find Eulia and his family becoming strong. He bit his lip trying to hold back tears as a few dripped from his cheeks, he shook his head and lifted a paw up wiping them away hastily. The young Roux would go past the gates with ears pressed flat against his head noticing the split, the rubble that were once homes, and how many were injured. His gaze shifted as he caught sight of some merchants near the shore and how battered up they were, a frown on his maw.

Trygve noticed something under a piece of rubble and would dig it out only to realize what it was, a stuffed bear. "O-Osito..." Where was his sister? She hardly ever left her teddy bear. It made worry strike out in his heart, he walked to the ocean rinsing the sand off of the bear and then let his body sink in the moment that he had ripped the cloak off. He missed the ocean but most importantly he had missed home, once his coat smelled more of salt water then where he had been this past few weeks did he rise once more shaking himself off with tears rolling down his cheeks. "Eulia! Nat! Jamie!" His voice began to break with emotion as he stumbled around with Osito within his jaws, "Roan! Maggie! Mama! Michael! Anybody..." God. Even Brandykit would be a welcomed face, the tears continued to drip and he released the bear from his jaws only to press them close to his chest. He felt like a child for once... A scared, lost child. He hated it. He knew... He knew very well.

This wasn't Trygve Roux.

[tdlr: Ry decided to drop by mainly to get paints/flowers from the merchants but was distracted the moment he found Lu's stuffed animal, Osito, so right now he's on the beach crying without his cloak that was once his disguise. he has washed in the salt water getting rid of most of the smell from the Pitt so it'll be really faint to detect that and it's mixed with the smells of the loner lands too] [glow=COLOR,1,400] ━ ✧*:･ﾟ[/glow]

[michael t.]

As of late, Michael's mind had been a bit of a scattered mess. It wasn't exactly hard to see why, considering the thief's attention was constantly being pulled in so many different directions, mercilessly inflicting whiplash upon him without a care in the world. Before the meteor shower, the bobcat's only worries in the world had been about his new position, as well as whether or not Trygve was doing alright. He hadn't seen much of his nephew since the other's unfortunate encounter with Brandy, and he had found himself often wondering if he should go out and try to bring the other back, whether he liked it or not. It was the kind of decision that would've sounded heinous to younger him, considering it was authoritarian and unforgiving, forcing Ry to come back for his own good. Hell, it still sounded a bit heinous to his current day self, who still wasn't the biggest fan of authority figures shoving their noses into things. Trygve himself probably knew that about his uncle best of all, considering Michael hadn't been sneaky in teaching the other the most underhanded and dirty tricks and combat maneuvers he knew. Still, he had kept the possibility of going out to retrieve Trygve on the back burner, figuring it was always an idea he could return to if he really felt Ry was in danger – or Roxie was in danger because of the sorrow Ry's absence was causing.

But then, all hell had broken loose. The sky had been filled with flames, that damned meteor had come crashing into the water, and Michael's vision and hearing were filled with utter panic and dismay. When he even just tried to think about the emotions that he had felt in that moment, it was enough to push him precariously onto the edge of a panic attack. His mind had been pulled in so many different directions, desperate to insure the safety of his sister, and his friends, and his nieces and nephews, and his boyfriend. In the end, the tremors had managed to knock him directly off his feet, sending his skull slamming into the ground below. Everything after that was an unpleasant blur of nausea and blood, intercut with Roan's worried, low tones, and Trevor's crazed and frantic high ones. Waking up after that had been a nightmare, and the privateer had never been more eager to shove himself into the fur if his coyote lover, on the verge of tears and reeling from the pain and disorientation his concussion brought with it. He would never admit the vulnerability that had gripped him in those moments to anyone but Trevor, but it had felt as though his entire world was falling apart. For the first time in a long time, he hadn't worried about Trygve, mainly because he was just so entirely worried for his own sanity, and the safety of those around him.

The rehabilitation process after that had been... rough. His life had begun rapidly swapping between nausea, pain, and near constant crying not only from the aforementioned issues, but also from the sheer emotional strain he was under. It had taken several days before he was finally able to emerge from his home again and be able to help out, and even then he was on doctor's orders not to overwork himself. For once, his mind was not focused on a clear, linear path, or plan. He wasn't looking towards the future. Mainly because it was being tugged violently in many different directions. Roxie, Trevor, the concussion, the meteor, those that had been injured, the rest of his family and friends, Trygve... there was so much to worry about all at once, and it didn't help to alleviate the ever present headache his concussion had brought with it. He could truly understand now why Goldie had constantly been complaining after she had gotten her own concussion. He supposed he should just be glad they had actual sages now, and weren't operating off of their own skills alone. If that had been the case, he probably already would've been dead by now, buried naturally by the sand carried on the wind.

When he had left his home yet again that day, it had been on shaky legs. The beginning of the day was usually the hardest part, since he needed to leave the warmth and safety of his home and lover to go help others. However, once he got after that initial hump, things became far easier. His pawsteps were slow as he moved along the beach, his mismatched blue gaze watching as work was done that he would help with later on. For now, he needed some food. In the first few days, Trevor and others had brought food to him, not wanting him to overextend himself and get sick everywhere, but now he was making an active effort to do so on his own. He wasn't about to be made useless just because of a little concussion. Not in a million goddamn years. The thought made a little smirk break across his muzzle, the first that he had gotten not in the presence of others in a few days. Even if his mind was still struggling to catch up with all that had happened as of late, at least he was relearning his own ways, something that he was infinitely grateful for. Being dreary and miserable all the time would've just driven him crazy, and make the whole healing process that much harder.

Michael was halfway through his walk down to the food stores when he heard a voice calling out, frantic and full of emotion. It sounded familiar, and the thief had to stop himself from turning his head too fast and giving himself whiplash. It was... Trygve? Calling out names. Eulia, the rest of his siblings, Roxie, him. Michael was hesitant for a moment, the bobcat wondering if perhaps his concussion had made it so that he was hallucinating things. Once he was sure that the shouting wasn't all in his heard, he began to jog over to where his nephew was, crying in the sand with a bear in his arms. The fugitive glanced around warily for a moment, as if he was wondering if anyone else was gonna step in to do something. When no immediate other solution besides himself provided itself, Michael moved in more closely, his voice hoarse as he mumbled, "Ry...? Jesus Christ, you're back..." He struggled with words for a moment, never having been the best at close, emotional chats. Eventually the dark furred feline just gave up, moving in close to press his side against Trygve's, his head gently bumping against the young boy's cheek. He muttered, sounding weaker than he had been the last time they spoke, "I didn't know if you'd be alright... where you were... the meteor..."

[glow=#75603C,1,000]" oh, it's a setup, no, no, we won't fall. "[/glow]

[T. ROUX]

[glow=white,1,400]BUT THEY'VE WRITTEN MY NAME IN THE STARS. I'VE DEALT WITH GREED AND SCARS !｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

Trygve had been selfish leaving his family behind only to return to the mess that greeted him now, he had felt slight tremors and saw the meteors flying through the sky but he hadn't thought anything of it. Now, he had could see that he should have cared and checked on them more recently. He could only pray that his family was safe after all of this but right now, he felt comforted by a single individual that approached him first. Yet he was frozen to the spot where he sat cradling the teddy bear tightly within his grasp, his gaze shifting and locking onto the approaching figure accompanied either a familiar voice.

He sounded hoarse and tired. It made Trygve feel even more guilt for leaving to begin with, he couldn't move unsure of how to react or feel. His lungs and sides burning, the long trip hadn't helped with the healing of his broken ribs though he didn't think too much on it as his gaze wavered a bit. It wasn't long before Michael pressed to his side was when Ry finally snapped out of his brief daze feeling the bobcats head touch his cheek, his eyes only grew more watery. His body began to shake violently though he didn't say anything as he only moved closer to Michael shoving his face into the other's chest, he still held onto the bear but did his best in hugging his mentor.

Trygve knew that Michael wasn't the most sentimental kinda guy and frankly, the young cub wasn't either. He sniffled quietly unable to silence the hiccups that had began to make his entire body jump in the slightest "I should've never... L-left... But..." He bit his bottom lip only to lower his head in shame and shut his eyes tight as he continued "I was s... So scared... I hurt Brandy... I hurt Lu..." The draconic cub lifted one of his paws up to wipe away at the tears wincing slightly because of the sand plastered onto his paws "I didn't wanna hurt a-anybody else..."[glow=COLOR,1,400] ━ ✧*:･ﾟ[/glow]

[hollows creek !]

holly's own history and experience on family dynamics were a bit... skewed. having lived in a clan run by what could be considered a cult leader to some, holly was still unlearning what his uncle had taught him. even with all the hardships he forced his nephew through since the time he could toddle, pinpointing the 'wrong' and 'right' behaviors had proven difficult when it was just himself. elk had only done so much in the few months they were together, and now that they had parted ways it had been up to the saber to recognize it on his own.

family especially had been a sore, touchy topic. while holly hadn't inherited his uncle's thoughts of finding family as pawns or tools, he did have difficulty finding the difference in what 'love' was from them. his mother wasn't allowed to spend much time with him, and the moments he spent with either elk or eagle were limited to the battlefield or around echo. trying to tell if someone genuinely cared or was appearing so just to exploit him was hard to tell now... still, had he ever gotten the chance to start over and fix his actions he would to save his family.

when he noticed trygve and michael, he was curious of course. the saber approached them not with melancholy or concern, but simply to observe. he listened to the cub, waiting for him to finish before speaking. "young man, no need to cry." his voice held a comforting rumble, almost fatherly. he lowered his head to meet ry's gaze and nodded slowly. "i'm sure your friends will understand if you explain it and apologize. you are afraid, and it's okay to feel that way, but if it's from what you're capable of in strength you can't let that fear control you."

holly lifted his head up, tilting his chin up toward the sky. "the bravest, valorous men can be afraid too, but they must first learn to control their fears and strengths and use it to their advantage." his expression changed, lighting up as an idea came to him. "young man! i can teach you how, if you would like. i am no stranger to such cases, and would gladly help a fellow to harness their talents." had this been what aarus let him survive for? perhaps to guide and teach others. to learn what he knew...?

[michael t.]

It wasn't exactly a secret that Michael was not the most sentimental guy in the universe. He had the things he cared for, and he certainly wasn't shy about protecting them if he needed to, but he didn't do great in the more intimate moments, which required more finesse. He couldn't help it, really. He hadn't grown up with any sort of solid support system, so he had been raised thinking that people never really talked about their feelings or opened up – just shouted and inflicted violence. Despite this, Michael was far from heartless, and to see Ry in such a state... it broke the bobcat's heart. It wasn't long before he was bringing fluffy arms up to wrap around his nephew, pulling the boy and the bear that he was hugging in close to his chest. He buried his nose in the fur atop the other's head, breathing a soft sigh of relief that Trygve was safe, and seemed to regret what he had done to Lu and Brandy. The fugitive hadn't ever really thought that Ry would be remorseless about what had driven him away – Ry wasn't the type – but it had still been a fear, deep in the back of his mind. Slightly at ease, Michael let out a shuddering breath before muttering, "It's okay, Ry... I know you were scared. But Lu and Brandy are alright. Roan patched them up, and I'm sure they'll forgive you... they miss you so much, I've seen it."

There was a part of Michael that wanted to add on just how much he had missed Trygve, but he shoved that part aside for now. That was getting too emotional, and he didn't want to selfishly blubber about how much he had missed his nephew during his absence. Thankfully for him, he was soon not the only one present on the scene, because along came Holly. Michael's eyes flicked up at the newer crew member, and he couldn't help the wary look that shone in his mismatched blue eyes. He just didn't know much about Holly quite yet, and he wasn't sure how much he trusted the other to be talking so closely to Trygve while he was so emotional. There was also that little, nasty, selfish part of Michael that wanted to lash out at Holly's words, and tell him to back off out of jealousy. After all, Trygve was his nephew, and his apprentice, and was practically like a son to him, yet this guy just wanted to come along and try to take all of that away? Michael's ears almost flattened in disgust at his own thoughts, aggressively pushing away that nasty side of him. Even if he saw Trygve as a son, it wasn't his right to push everyone else away. For now, the thief just remained silent, holding Ry close to see what the boy would have to say.

[glow=#75603C,1,000]" oh, it's a setup, no, no, we won't fall. "[/glow]

[Grimm]

[align=center][div style="font-family: arial; font-size: 11px; width: 60%; text-align: justify; line-height:120%"]Course had grown the ebony assortment of strands, yet unimpeded the warmth skirting along the miniscule patch proceeding between tufted ears. Within the loose encirclement of his embrace they felt a mere toy, stuffing held in by false skin that knew only this, a delicate, twisted recollection the dark threads of fading terror that had drawn him to them.

A moth to a flame. No, that was not right. The sky touched with the dark hues of deepening night and among wispy clouds obscuring glimmering points of cool light fragile the crescent of moon.

It bore no matter how far they reached with aching arms, widening the arc yet the chill surface of the sheets was all they registered. There was no warmth, his presence a burning furnace that left them pleasantly warmed though the spark of excess heat left their skin reddened and sore, no salt among the familiar notes of fire, something all his own beneath. For a time they simply lay, stretched forth in a position most odd for coiled their hind legs until tucked into a semi-ball were they, indulging in a quiet dream.

He was not there. Had never been, a mere fragment of pleasant thoughts interwoven with fading recollecting.

There was no haste within the uncomfortable manoeuvre of disentangling themselves from the tangled mess of excess blankets piled atop the makeshift bed, the stale air painted with soft utterances of pain. Days had passed - or may it have been weeks, time an odd and confusing construction given no thought - had it had seen a downward spiral within their condition. Expected, in many ways, the dark bloom of bruises an interwoven network of sickeningly hued patches against a pale backdrop. Yet always did it linger, the budding ache encircling the back of their eyes, working cruel fingers through their skull until they knew only it.

A concussion, that is what it had been called. Of minor significance a title that may be placed to their condition, however, useless against the agonised progression of their life as their progress ground to a seeming halt. Time was all they needed, but they could not look upon those around them, the fretful gazes filled with false hopes, words echoing with a fine web of lies. They may recover but not whole, odd the resting placement of wing settled against their side, pace odd and halting though they had grown accustomed to the manner they need hold their leg. Maybe it would be best they had been among the debris and rubble their tired eyes moved across, barely perceived as they exited the temporary housing to allow easy accept by the sages. Another name to carve into unyielding stone, a ghost on the wind that may not torment any further.

Noche.

Unbidden the thought arose among the loose static of interwoven thought, a dull rumble of lacklustre sound parting beneath a sudden sound. Premature the conclusion of their quiet wandering, against the delicate skin between their toes grains of sand grated, an annoyance made useful as their mind settled and focused. A voice. By distance and the uncaring currents of salt laced wind had the words grown distorted, a mere echo of baseless sound. Their head ached, pounded with a dull, ringing song, unstable the legs that moved without prior thought.

It was not him. The cruel savagery of flame laced teeth buried into the muscle of shoulder, the crackling of dying embers against their skin. He had left them all behind. Nothing but anger in eyes that had grown so familiar, choked the weak pleas falling from their trembling lips. But something in them dared to dream it could be him.

Too slow, momentum incapable of building in the fashion they wanted, progress impeded by so much. Muscle growing taunt, nerves dancing with an undying fire, aside thrown the prior caution with broken leg. It dragged, painful as it twisted and jostled, cut a deep groove into the sand, each breath a pained whine painted across clenched teeth. None of it mattered, all that they cared to know if it was him.

Voices. Familiar the grating baratine of privateer - rejected the notion of connection, familiarity not built as of yet - and warmth infused a rumble that encircled deep chest, brief the halt of their progression. Unsure the shaky steps that drew Eulia forth, silenced all but the hollow ring of his name within their head, sharp the twisting coil of fist about the trembling best of their heart. It was not him, surely it could not be, a mere trick of the light weak eyes deemed a wanted vision.

"Mi noche…" From trembling lips did soft murmur fall, everything screaming at them to go, confirm the false vision for truth, yet stone seeming the paws settled among pale grains. Against all hope, of odds that cut like broken glass, he was here. The tears fell in a bitter rain, twisted countenance shifting between feigned anger and the bubbling anguish amassed in tightening throat. They wanted to be angry, yell at him for leaving as though any right of such did he hold. But they could merely look on with a bitten off sob, unsure if they could approach any further, the pain a constant reminder this was real.

He was real.