look at the ceiling and fade away - [WAR PAINT]

[Stryker]

The time had come. Their pillage against The Typhoon was coming in a few short hours. Each wanderer had prepared and trained for this dire moment and finally the moment was upon them. With every battle, they donned their war paint and won. Now they needed one more victory to proclaim their leadership upon The Typhoon's islands and any territories they had already won over. To keep consistent, the Kingpin wanted to hold one final display of their paints. Not only would they don the materials upon their face, but throughout their entire body. Luckily, he had prepared.

Near the beach, several large rock bowls laid out. Each held a color created from the island's natural resources through tedious grinding, boiling, and fermenting. The dyes laid out were prominently in the lower rank's green. This time too, the unfamiliar black color for the espionages was present. All members of the Coalition of the Condemned was encouraged to don their entire body with a variety of colors to show off their pride as long as they didn't signify rank symbols along themselves. [Reference colors and rank symbols within this thread!]

As Stryker awaited the rest, he was already lining his face in crimson dyes as he stared into the ocean's reflection. With careful concentration, he dipped a claw into the mixture of teak leaves and raised it to his chin. A sharp downward motion left a streak on his maw. He repeated this twice after that, creating the appearance of a skull's teeth, and offered a narrowed gaze into the water's below. Satisfied, the Kingpin continued. The lion sheathed his claws back into their sockets and lightly dipped the top of his paw into the dye. Closing one eye, he pressed the red against his lid. After that one dried, he followed up with the second and proceeded to observe his work in the waves.

The sound of approaching pawsteps caused his attention to shift towards the tropical forest's border. Finally. "Feel free to join me in dying our pelts as tradition before we engage in war," he remarked. A lighthearted smile met his lips. The fate of their new home was approaching quickly and there was no time to waste.

[SirDio]

SEVCON VERBAN

He wasn't the one for wars, or war paint, but now that he was free of the war-tribe, he wanted blood on his paws and screams of the dying in his ears. It was almost time, he was sure of it. Soon, his soon to be black paws would be covered in crimson and blood. As he approached the beach area, he set his eyes upon Stryker, taking note in his war paint. A rumble rose form him, "It's almost time, innit? I can hardly even wait."

He tentatively placed his front paws in the black dye, taking them out and marveling at the black. Letting the dye dry, he looked to the sky. "The old tribe I was prisoner of prayed to this war god before battles. I believe they called him... Arecoatl, the War Serpent." With a dry paw he dipped his claws in the crimson, placed the claws to his white mask, and scraped them across it, from one eye to another, then down the center. After a moment, he reconsidered. "That's too plain, give me a moment."

Gently he walked toward the ocean, washing his paws of the dye causing him to grunt in dissatisfaction. But he shrugged and took off his mask, revealing his torn face. He washed the mask of the crimson markings, then flicked it wildly before the ocean to get rid of water droplets. "Let's try again."

He dipped his paw in the pink-red dye, placed his paw against his mask, and ran his paw down it harshly, creating a messy half-n-half design. With claws dipped in black dye, he added tear-lines down from the eyeholes of the mask. "That shud do it."

"Speech"

[NATHANIEL.]

Charlie did not intend to participate in any of what was going on. He and Bill, and hopefully Conrad and Clyde, were more than happy watching everything from the sidelines. Like many others at this point, Charlie had noticed a flaw in Stryker's plan, though he didn't mention it for if he truly intended to stay away from it all then it was not his business.

Still, he and his dragon showed up anyway. He should at the very least paint himself, if only to appear as though he was going to participate; perhaps instead of staying here he would go to Elysium and 'guard' them (truly, what were they expected to stop them from doing? the pacifist clan didn't do much of anything, and if all went well with the typhoon then they certainly wouldn't be running to the pitt for help).

Wordlessly the ginger and white feline stepped forward with a strange, intricate swish of his tail, and as if on command the little dragon swooped down, landing harshly on the ground before him. At once, Charlie dipped his paw in a purple dye and began to draw on Bill's smooth scales. Slowly, a pattern began to appear; three little dots on either side of the dragon's eyes, followed by a smooth arch under his eyes.

Charlie's tail flicked again, and the dragon moved away, lounging on a stone nearer to the ocean. He would be followed shortly by the feline himself, who had apparently not given his own design as much thought and had simply plunged his muzzle into the same purple dye, swiped a line across his cheekbones and the middle of his face and left.

ONCE I START BREATHING FIRE YOU CAN'T TAME ME[/color]