I'M THE TALLEST OF MOUNTAINS -- open, joining

[Verdigris]

  /listen to this and read in a deep, growly voice for best effect
  /I promise the rest of my posts will be easier to read

  A storm had begun to brew over the lands, the clouds looming above, ready to strike their unholy retribution at any moment. Minuscule teardrops of rain bled into the volcanic soil, staining it with the memories of the heights that they would never reach again. In the distance, a roar of thunder shook the very molecules which the denizens of this land breathed in to sustain their pathetic lives.

  Though the wind howled in agony and the skies mourned their fate, the jackal was unmoved, marching ahead with a soft smirk. If he had heard correctly- and as a creature of his caliber, he always either heard correctly or didn't hear at all- this region was frequented by some of the most fierce warriors that could be found. This was the perfect location to pursue his goal; these were the sort of people around which he could finally achieve the greatness that he had been denied for so long.

  Furthermore, they lived by a volcano. How could you go wrong with a volcano?

  Stepping into the shadows of the rainforest, Papercutter cleared his throat, then called in a loud voice, "Hey. I hear this is the home of the Typhoon." Still smirking, he narrowed his eyes. "My name is Papercutter. I'd like to offer my loyalty."

[PINCHER]

covered in blood — oh, how fun![div style="width: 57%;font-family: arial;font-size: 12px;text-align: justify;margin-top: -5px;line-height: 95%;"]
strangers. he didn't like strangers. especially fuckers that appeared during such weather like the one he was stalking through on his way towards the outlines of the shores of the volcanic island. his lips softly parted, a tiny cloud of warm breath dancing like smoke through the rather cold weather. luckily, the climate of the island was generally sunny and perfection, not a single disturbance in the air. the rocking of his submarine station had left pincher in a state of annoyance, his intense aqua blue eyes narrowed with disgust at the fish that tended to slam against the tiny round window of the beached submarine. so, he decided to go out and enjoy the weather with the heavy round crystalline droplets of rain pouring down and soaking the rich chocolate brown pelt of the bengal. he wasn't really used to all this nature — unlike his twin brother, pincher had not grown up in the island and had only just returned with his crew to rejoin the two groups. the nautical mile crew had been a bit iffy on returning to the three massive pirate ships that were anchored to the northern shore, their bodies not used to the rocking. they complained for a bit until pincher set them straight, threatening to turn the next idiot to complain into chum for the fish. as he stepped out of his submarine, the brooding leader ignored the wet sand feeling, his pale coffee paws gently sinking into the surface but not enough to make him struggle as he stalked past the tavern and the ships. he glanced towards the towering behemoths of wood and iron, observing with cool calculative orbs made of ice. was there anyone else out here?

somehow in someway, his warm salmon pink nose caught the faint trace of a stranger. of someone not from this island. he had managed to distinct the scent of the voodoo house and the nautical mile. the nautical mile members' scent was always faintly tinted with sea salt while the voodoo fucks smelled like the lush vegetation such as moss and coconuts from the jungle. but this scent...had neither. with clear suspicion and curiosity lacing his youthful facial features, the lean figure headed towards the direction until he managed to catch sight of an outline. an outline of the very stranger the scent was coming from. automatically, the tips of his claws began to slide out as he halted a few years from papercutter, narrowed arctic blue eyes locked onto the jackal, trying to ignore the lazy rustling of the rainforest around them. "aye...you're in de roi place..." pincher answered flatly, chocolate brown ears pinning to his skull as the rain began to drum a little harder down upon them. damn, this was really not the right time. he was usually a little more civil but the storm wasn't exactly soothing him as he began to feel the cold in his bones. "is dat really all you've got ter offer? loyalty? wat else, have yer got to offer?" he questioned, low rumbling voice rising a few pitches with dry humor as he tipped his spotted head to the side, alluring gaze now glinting with tiny impatience. this guy really did not mind standing in the rain, did he? pincher wanted to test to see if this "papercutter" was really worthy enough to join his crew. maybe. maybe not.

( OOO I LOVE PAPERCUTTER, WHAAA )

code by spacexual

[the trash man]

[align=center][div style=" background-color: transparent; border: 0px solid black; width: 550px; min-height: 9px; font-family: arial; line-height: 109%; text-align: left; color: black; padding: 20px;font-size: 12px;"]Storms were blessed things - they were brimming with energy both inherently benign and destructive in nature and depending on the Loa's whims it could wipe a house, or power a city. This powerful but unstable energy was sacred to those had come before Daphne, the young child that once was often following excitedly in his grandparent's footsteps down to the shallow beaches to watch them enhance and harness the energy in which storms provides for their own spiritual gain. And seeing today's brewing storm approach on the horizon Daphne had been drawn in by it's magnetic pull to maybe bask in the energy bestowed upon The Typhoon.

Snowy hued paws soaked in the raindrops blanketing the lush pathways towards to the seafront as Daphne leisurely approached the beaches of the island with his loyal companion Valentin by his side, taking in nature's beauty as they went. Listening to the gentle sound soft rain hitting the surface of trees, structures or the ground with a serenity radiating off the mixbreed like a space heater, milky eyes scanned over the array of colours the island had to offer with a pleased sigh at the thriving greenery in this wet season. It was then in which the bumbling Asson had noticed the foreign lifeform making his way over and across the shallow path in which now allowed access to and from the island's borders. It caught the attention of the feline and redirected his course from the path towards the beaches of the island, directly towards Papercutter's bumbling figure. "So brash," Slowly ambling up towards the pair, Daphne stopped directly beside the taller form of his twin brother and tutting his abrasive behaviours towards the admirable Papercutter. Milky gaze came to rest gently upon Paper, Daphne offering the other male a warm countenance to juxtapose the aggressiveness in which Pincher had offered. "loyalty is something desirable. I think Papercutter should be given more respect for that." Soothing their voice to something amiable and airy, Daphne let a small sigh escape their parted maw before brimming a brighter smile this time. "Welcome to The Typhoon! You must be exhausted from trekking that long path, come in, come in. I'll get you a hot drink." As the Asson spoke and offered his services to the new member, even Valentin expressed her newfound affection by trying to sidle up beside Papercutter as the black mamba hissed pleased. "I think she likes you more already, what a traitor." Giggling at he spoke, Daphne watched idly as his pet snake enjoyed the company of the new male.

Of course Paper would be expected to participate in the Nautical Mile's hazing tradition, something new and exciting to Daphne, but for now the traditionalist Voodoo house Asson wanted to make Paper feel at home. Before the ordeal that was the Nautical Mile's unique "drink".

(wowowo, welcome!! :^))

[Verdigris]

  [font=trebuchet ms]Just prior to leaving the deserts, Paper had discovered that leadership was not all it was cracked up to be, at least not for one barely out of basic training. His difficulties didn’t stem from being a poor leader, he thought, so much as the fact that leadership skills took time to develop, and most of the other members of the pack were… not easily controlled, to say the least. That inherent rowdiness made them aggressive combatants, which was without a doubt an advantage, but it was also something he had yet to learn how to handle when dealing with inferiors. He’d pick it up someday, he was certain. For now, however, he was going to have to concern himself with working his way back up to the top. That was fine; there was little he wasn’t willing to do to achieve his goal, and the others here could only hope that they didn’t find that out the hard way, he thought.

  After a few moments of waiting, the jackal tilted his head slightly to the right, then padded about in a small circle once. The revolution granted him no further sensory information (at least, not other than what he assumed the typical sounds and smells of the rainforest), but it was when he returned to his original position that he detected it: there were footsteps growing steadily louder, and the scent of another creature growing stronger and stronger. Someone was approaching. The brief ritual had not been necessary after all (given the direction that the other creature was approaching from), but it wasn’t as though anyone noticed him doing it. Even if they did, they wouldn't understand his reasons for doing so, so it would hardly matter in the long run.

  Looking up, the jackal fixed his eyes on the bengal as he emerged from the shadows. The other male’s claws were already unsheathed- excellent. The killer instinct of the island’s denizens was on full display. The noticeable odor of sea salt was less familiar, but it was little different from the smell of blood; living here would be like surrounding himself with dead and dying animals all day. The stench of iron was an integral fact of life as the strongest around, anyway, and that was fine by him.

  Perfectly fine, he insisted to himself, shoving aside the brief thought of his own blood spilling from the gash on his face.

  At the bengal’s question, Papercutter shook his head. The fact that his loyalty alone would not be sufficient nearly incited a surge of indignant bemusement, but then he supposed that given the distance between the deserts of his old home and the tropics out here, none of the Typhoon's members would have heard anything about him. They would not understand the value that he and his quest would provide to them. That was fine, too; they would learn in due time.

  The jackal opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything, he was interrupted by the approach of another creature. Turning his gaze towards the other bengal, he quirked his left brow. If he had to guess, given their appearances, the two were related, but each one's demeanor was entirely different from the other. Interesting.

  Regardless, this one seemed... softer in nature, even disregarding his clouded eyes. His mother had always insisted that a soft outside could easily mask a cunning inside, and that it was never smart to underestimate an enemy; he supposed he understood that, but he never quite got why anyone would hide their own strength. Making one's own power obvious to everyone in the vicinity was prideful, perhaps, but it was the simplest way to ensure that no one would mess with you. It took much less work than deliberately inviting attackers by appearing weak.

  He still ought to be careful, though, and the shorter bengal was attempting to help his case. There was no point in wasting good favor, at least not for the moment. "Thanks," Paper responded finally, with a nod. He was hardly exhausted (a tad cold, maybe, but that was to be expected given the change in biome), but denying their hospitality was, again, pointless.

  As the snake slithered up alongside him, the jackal fixed his narrowed gaze on it. He couldn't be sure what species it was- it didn't resemble a rattlesnake, that was all he could discern- but presumably, as long as he didn't make any threatening motions towards it, it would remain docile. "'She?' What's her name?" he asked softly, twitching his left ear. With a brief glance up at the other two, he added, "And what're your names?"

  /aaaah thanks! ^^

[the trash man]

[align=center][div style=" background-color: transparent; border: 0px solid black; width: 550px; min-height: 9px; font-family: arial; line-height: 109%; text-align: left; color: black; padding: 20px;font-size: 12px;"]Even faced with the (admittedly absurd) perceived dangers of the black mamba sidling up beside him, Paper did not freak out as so much as to also in turn scare poor social butterfly Valentin. Something Daphne was rather pleased in seeing as the somali mix smiled at the carefree snake enjoying the company of new people. "Valentin, her name is Valentin." Enthusiastically announcing the black mamba's name like the proud dad he was, Daphne found himself taken aback as Papercutter asked for the snake's name. In a good way though. Daph always loved to enthuse about his precious girl and her cuteness to everyone he met, because Valentin deserved it all. She was always there, always caring about how Daphne felt; even when Daphne had ascended to Asson and had felt so isolated up in the jungle's temple where he now rested every night and rose every day, Valentin was there to make nights less painfully lonely. She wasn't warm-blooded, but her unconditional love was enough.

Methodically after inquiring about the name of the pet in which Daphne had been so ecstatic to introduce, Paper was inquiring about the names of those who had come to poke and prod at him with well-deserved curiosity. It was probably for the best to get to know your new comrades with a name attach to their face. Composing himself once more, milky gaze ripped itself from the sight of Valentin's pretty form and back to to Paper's one. Giving him polite eye contact. "Oh, I'm sorry how rude of me. My name is Daphne Roux, and this is my brother Pincher Roux. We lead the two subgroups here in the Typhoon. It's a pleasure to meet you Papercutter, truly. I hope I'll see you around; I know Valentin does too." Colloquial chatter filled in the spaces of air in which Daphne's voice became prominent, the somali mix's long-haired tail sticking up in a gleeful motion.

[Verdigris]

  Valentin was an understated name, one that hardly fit a creature with as threatening an appearance as the snake- though perhaps it suited her nature, if it turned out that she was docile after all- but regardless, the cloudy-eyed bengal clearly took pride in her. Despite the lack of verbal communication between the two, it seemed that they considered each other to be loyal squadmates, if not more. Perhaps, the jackal thought, he would have to learn how the bengal had gained her loyalty.

  As the feline introduced himself, Paper nodded. So he had been right: the two were indeed related. The mention of the two sub-groups, however, brought a flicker of genuine interest to his eyes. Beginning to walk into the forest, so that they wouldn't be left standing around in the rain, he glanced back at the two and asked, "What are those two subgroups?" Most likely, one (if not both) was related to combat and similar matters- it would be best to learn which one that was, so that he could secure himself a position there.

  /mentally conserving my muse for the initiation because excite