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    Isolation was all he had known. A disease that had claimed his mind and what little was left of his soul, and one that refused any offer of a cure. He existed in his own bubble suspended in his own limbo, mourning no-one but himself, and that was his afterlife. It had been oddly fun at first, cheating death and seeking revenge, but not even centuries of cruel pranks and blood staining ashen hands couldn't drive away existential crisis. He was nothing, stripped of his humanity and exiled to his disassociated state. All he wanted was another being to commune with, excepting the wretched voice dwelling in venomous thoughts. Then a bizarre creature began to follow after the miserable spirit, a vibrant lizard with fearsome wings and a glowing neck. After failing to scare the unfamiliar creature away, the remnants of a boy accepted his new and rather lousy stalker. Over time, it could be said they became awkward friends. The relation was painfully unknown to him after decades of no passive contact with living creatures, and he began to crave it. Like a suffering animal given a dose of medicine to numb the pain, and demanding more so the tranquil numbness would never abandon him.

    So he began the hunt. With what he learned was a dragon trailing close behind, the poltergeist only had to adopt a form closer to creature than man to carry out his goal, materializing as scrawny little pest of a feline in order to blend in. Besides, he hadn't seen another person in years, not since the disaster. Not to mention humans were the worst, their society staining the earth and committing mass genocide daily. So the only logical reason to remedy his longing ache in a pulseless heart was to reach out to the elusive wildlife roaming the land. It took a while, much too long for the impatient entity, but with the help of the prior friend, Beck had successfully dragged creatures through the muck and brambles, and wrangled a crowd into a desolate ghost town, ironically his decision purely because of the secluded area and proximity to a shelter forest in case of attack. If he was honest, he would admit he had no idea what he was doing, or even why. But delusions of grandeur flooded his vision at the prospect of followers, hallucinations of a vicious group functioning under his command, a group that would force the world to regret ever deciding that he was to be put to death.

    Despite his own warnings, the stubborn poltergeist lured the crowd into the center of town, and after a moment of settling, he finally scrambled to a suitable perch in order to speak: the ledge of a statue-turned-rubble by a forgotten blast. The suspicious feline paused for a moment, owlishly blinking over the gathered animals in shock, nearsighted vision hopelessly trying to register their blurred features. Dipping his lantern-like glare downwards, he leaned forward off his ledge to blankly stare at an engraved place directly beneath his frigid paws. Quickly swiping away the thick layer of dust and grime obscuring the words, the lone surviving word Tanglewood could be deciphered, assumedly the name of the obliterated town. Lifting his narrowed eyes back up to the crowd, he finally spoke after years of silence, although he wished he had wheezed out sometime wise or witty instead of merely, "Uh, hi -- I betcha y'all are wonderin' why I brought everyone here." To manipulate you and eventually dispose of you when we get bored? "No! Not that, erm." He had forgotten how difficult speaking was, especially with his now ashamedly missing cheek displaying half a set of sharkish teeth, all clenched in anxiety as he fumbled on his syllables. Ignoring the confusion of him abruptly refusing himself, Beck started again, stub of a tail thumping against the mossy marble of the statue's base. "I reckoned, maybe, that y'all would help me -- and yourselves -- by startin' one of those group-thingies. Ya know, the 'clans' popping up all over now. Dunno their names yet, but they'll probably be out for ya since you're loners now. So if we all made our own 'clan' then y'all won't have t' avoid 'em, or somethin'." A cold flush was spreading its way across his freckled features, yet the wiry cat made a point to ruffle out his grimy pelt, as if denying his own public bashfulness. Where was he going with this? He just needed to convince them, right? What do they look like, idiots? They don't believe you, and they don't trust you. A rasping sigh escaped his damaged lungs, rattling in the tense and humid air before the poltergeist quit gnawing on the inside of his intact cheek and added, "It can't be that hard to form a group. We would all fight for each other, and get food for each other, and all that sappy shit. I can help y'all, if ya just trust me. It makes sense, right?" He angled his ears forward, as if warily expecting an answer, but recoiled away, offering an uncertain grimace instead. The poltergeist had been watching some of the clans trying to gain their footing in their own territory, and he could somewhat wrap his brain around the concept. There were ranks, and traditions, and multitudes of other things, but he could totally handle it. All he needed was their compliance.
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[align=center]​​​​​​​​ tanglewood​​​​​​​ [size=11pt] medic info ​@tricky
Counterfeit hypocrite, holy shit

I've got some news, but it probably isn't that fucking surprising. Being a loner isn't easy. Quite the fucking opposite. Nobody I bet, really wants to be a loner. You don't wake up in the morning and think to yourself, alone is how you outta be.

I wanted to be someone. Thats all I wanted. To be worth something.
Beck offered me  a shot at something that had been playing heavy on my mind for a while. It drew me in - I didn't ask any questions, didn't wonder why a man would be interested in babysitting  a bunch of dead-end strays. What I learned in it's always what you don't ask that really finds a way to fuck you over in the end.

It was one of the most life changing choices I ever made - to join that shithole. When discontent though, you could call me a drastic guy.

Belial, if you hadn't guessed from that juicy little tidbit up above, is a dreamer. He was a dog fresh out of the pound - the world to him, was a sandbox. Fastforward years later-  he's fighting every day with other animals just for scraps on the city streets, and cat scratches can become a bitch.  Even something that small can get infected and kill you. He saw that happen to his kitty-cat friend , Cicero. Course, Cicero had cat-aids. Cicero got his flea ridden ass on the heroin needles left on the streets.

But it just goes to show how important hygiene is, especially when the only medic in the city really made him work for any sort of asthma related treatment. This proposition to come together offered Belial something new - something a drifter like him didn't dare dream of hearing today. A place to stay- where you could depend on someone else but you.

Nights had been cold and lonely, utter hell for an extrovert like Belial. Due to this, he was one of the first animals to be lulled into a false sense of hope by the complete cuntfucking useless piece of absolute shit known as -- (Needless to say, things don't go so smoothly between him and Beck at first, but thats a post for another day.)  Beck.

Hey, Beck. I can't read or write- but I can damn well narrate like a fucking champ. Fuck you. Thats a little message from me to you. Genuinely fuck you. I trusted you. You gave me something to work towards -  can't believe that was all a fucking joke to you.

Maybe the antithesis of a model denizen, you could immediately get a little taste of what Tanglewood was going to be. More of a taste then Bel got, though he knew his crowd when he saw it.  He walked over with way too much confidence-
it was near predatory, but it was a strut of sorts.  It brought him closer to Beck, so he could look them over with a wry grin plastered on his mouth. Teeth glinted, cigarette balanced perfectly between those canine lips. Some dogs could play fetch, he could  smoke a pack. Fuck you. Anyways, Whoever the fuck this lil' scrap of fur was - wasn't much of a leader. They had an accent he was familiar with, but due to people he knew in the past who had such an accent, (Call out to Cassius Maxwell.) he was already ready to challenge them. Biases fueled him, and right now he was about to capitalize on a little favorite of his. Country bumpkins where all bigoted pieces of shit. Prove him wrong. 

"Hey, Pussy-cat. Yeah you, fuckface. I heard something about starting a group? with assholes like the locals?
You gotta be fuckin' kiddin me! How far up your own ass is that head of yours? Give me a reason this fuckin' group thing would work. Go on, shoot. You've got my attention."

So he was against it. Once again though, hey.
Prove him wrong.
code by spacexual
This was quite the odd fellow and well, he wasn't whole was what she was picking up as she sat in the crowd next to several individuals unaware of who most of them were but, she didn't plan on asking any of them seeing as she didn't necessarily care all that much at the time. She wore the hood of her cloak hiding the darker half of her face watching with a single fiery eye as the poltergeist spoke about forming a group that they wouldn't have to be afraid of the other clans that were forming and that they would work much like a team. She felt doubt fill her mind much like a glass of champagne trying to figure out if this was all some big joke to laugh at if it was then it certainly wasn't funny to her or let alone appealing. Who'd live in an absolute dump like this? It was like that one incident that the humans had caused, she could remember it faintly and it made her nose wrinkle with a bit of distaste recalling it. Chernobyl, Ukraine. The radioactivity and the accident alone was disastrous from what she had collected then this made her wonder what if this was like that again. Several unknown fluids that can influence the health of animals and herself, it was a bit worrying yet something truly appealing revealed itself within her mind; all the possible mutant animals. Her eyes widened momentarily as much as she loved the environment and all, animals fascinated her the most since they were all diverse. She was certain that she'd be one of the firsts to find some type of mutated being whether it be a second head or limbs, she wanted to be able to touch it, see it, and be able to know the side affects of it all. The possibility of it all made her heart beat faster within her chest feeling a bit of excitement pulsating through her, she took a deep breath feeling her scaled companion slithering out from her hood to see what was going on.

She stroked his throat gently with a large, dainty paw before murmuring quietly to the python "I don't believe him but, that's aside from the point. We're staying." Her voice barely an audible whisper as the large snake curled his head around her paw as if agreeing quietly letting its tongue flicker in and out taking in the overwhelming scent of other animals. Diversity, the reptile was aware that was what his queen liked most though he couldn't understand why the jaguaress even cared to bat an eyelash at all these savages but he didn't seem to question it at all since he was comfortable wherever his mistress was. "The landscape itself is quite interesting is it not, Moses?"" She hummed silently falling quiet once more wanting to see what the others around her thought of this said clan, she knew about them how she knew was her own business since she didn't think she would utter a word or bat an eye at any of these strangers. She didn't trust any of them at the time and well, maybe only a select few though she'd never admit to them. She curled her tail neatly around her dainty, mismatched paws before feeling the python slither downwards until he was curled next to her with his head resting upon his own slender body watching and smelling trying to pick up any fear. She chuckled quietly only to speak loud enough using a paw to pull down her hood and reveal her magnificent facial features and unique pattern "Once we form said group. What will be your intentions?"" Her eyes shone dimly as she paused for a moment only to continue "Are you to lead us?" She assumed that no one else would challenge the poltergeist yet her eyes flared with mystery and patience. Who'd grow a pair and step up to the plate of leadership? Surely, not this ghastly cat who bore sharky teeth. Would he even be capable of dining on such a eventful feast? The feast of leadership? Such a big feat and large pawprints that a little cat has to fill and only time would tell.

Time always told.

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[abbr=has feelings for fenrisulfr, clanmom, godfam]✦[/abbr] 6 FT JAGUAR & AGELESS & ½ AMENRIS
Relatively nearby Amunet sat Vladimir, a three year old mountain lion with a maroon colored bandana over his eyes. Or well, the spot where his eyes would be, if he had any. Back when he was around one, the male didn't make the smartest decisions, he had been reckless, not caring where he went, and in the end he paid the consequences. He trespassed into a land that belonged to territorial rogues, and they surely made sure he learned his lesson of not paying attention as to where he was going. It cost him his sight, he has been living in a world of darkness ever since. For awhile, somehow Vladimir managed to live on his own. It wasn't easy adjusting to this new life, and the Russian realized through the new experiences he made. One for example was from a few weeks ago, when he met Amunet. Amunet had seemed to realize Vladimir's condition, and after the two began to get to know each other just a bit, she seemed determined to almost look out for him. He really didn't want to feel like he was a burden, but he could appreciate her guidance. He wouldn't have ended up in this apparent marsh territory without her.

The cougar's ears pricked up at the sudden new voice, that belonged to the poltergeist named Beck. Vladimir had followed Amunet along to the crowd from earlier, glancing over at the jaguar as she made comments of her own. He couldn't see this Beck guy, though he could hear well with his slightly heightened hearing, thanks to his loss of sight. Beck sounded suspicious but also very intriguing. At least Beck decided to speak up about forming a group, especially with these 'clans' forming around lately. Vladimir knew he would not step up to the plate like this- as after all, who would let a blind guy lead? "Sirrr, who arrre you anyvays? If ve arrre forrrming grrroup, I vould like to know who you arrre." The blind cougar spoke up with his thick, Russian accent, looking to where he believed Beck was.
instagram art account - deviantart - twiiter
⅛ of the suts // ex-senior mod // gone
dakot was here <3 so was orion >)
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[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;"]The eerie silence, the eerie stillness the of radioactive swamp's ever-changing landscapes, the eerie nature of it's barren cooing trees almost abandoned but brought to life again by the gathered group of nomads all fury and anger spat in all directions indiscriminately. Well, that and the surviving native species who had been mutated out of recognition. Ironically the merry band were called to the meeting by a phantom; dead but still capable of consciousness. How could this meeting take an even more peculiar turn?

Serenity married the idly resting countenance of the youthful feline in attendance as it's sapphire coloured hues glinted at the prospect of a newly formed group and yearned to pounce at the opportunity. Ideas and excited fantasies practically came rolling over the carefully watching eyes, musings born in the previously quiet space of Venus' mind and filled the beautifully silvery hued Turkish Angora's head with a cacophony of possibilities bouncing from the narrow walls of the teenager's mind like atoms heated. Screw what ever the hell that decrepit looking canine said, screw whoever the hell was that equally odd-looking female who had the sheer nerves to practically agree with the outspoken man - Venus knew good meat when they smelt it. And despite the rather potent pong of the swampy surroundings, this proposal smelt like money. It was the only reason really that Venus came; money. The Turkish Angora's vision wouldn't be met instantaneously - Rome wasn't built in a day - but a safe haven providing the food, shelter and connections in which would be necessary for the feline to expand their budding empire should provide enough a incentive to stay. Groups also has allies and enemies; leaders; money; profit! It was all the ingredients Venus craved, served on a silver platter  - should anyone dare come in the way of the feline's ambitions they'd better start being more cautious in what they eat.

"If we're all going to act as unstable as the atomic nucleus no doubt infecting our bodies with radioactivity, then we're only going to implode on ourselves. Rationality may a foreign subject to some of us, but let's place our faith in the unknown for a bit and just listen to- uh.. ecto-boy. Okay?" Speaking up with a pompous air laced through their tone, Venus' sapphire gaze raked over those who had their indignant nature take over their opinions and degrade them. Something Venus noticing as they meet the requests of the mysterious ghost being that most of those who the boy had invited to the event were, old as balls. Well, not really in the grand scheme of things, but Venus was a child - so really anyone older than the youthfully naive teen seemed like they were nearing senile age. The only one who had not elicited a response to their age had been a similarly aged girl maybe only a few months older than Venus. She had a sailor's mouth and a booming voice but she was on the same side as Venus, and that was something the Turkish Angora revered. "Maybe you'll finally learn something." Snide comments were hissed underneath the feline's breath as idly the movement of no doubt some forgotten inhabitant mutated into an unnatural, but scientifically interesting, form caught the feline's attention for a moment - ripping the proud feline from their rant for a few second before adding hastily. "My name is Venus, it's a pleasure to make myself acquainted with you all."
[glow=#C8B68F,2,300]feels like you can hear my heart
so i’m closing the windows[/glow]
———— @cougar & sunhaven & info
    A chorus of bickering reminded him why he chose to avoid conversation in the first place. Frigid paws shuffled with an itching urge to just disappear once more and stay hidden for another decade until all the wastes of flesh present died out, but he refrained. He wasn't used to controlling his actions -- it was weird. Was that bad? Notched ear flicking back and forth in a rhythmic tic, anyone with their eyes still lodged in their skull could identify the twitchy anxiety in the strange boy. There was something almost feral in the frantic way he scanned the crowd, or the reflexive curling of bloodless lips as the greasy canine challenged him. He could tolerate the insults, he had his entire childhood, but intimidation was the quickest way to spark instinctive anger in the boy. Not like he was able to express it properly; replicated muscles still tensed as he straightened from his slouch, disfigured maw setting into a clamped line. Luminous eyes studied Belial, a crooked sneer meeting the other's smoke-shrouded grin. "Why? Because there are other groups formin'. Groups that ain't gonna like loners or trespassers or whatever ya wanna call yourself. Groups that are gonna take over the land and leave y'all with no place to live. Groups that'll end up killin' ya just 'cause ya get in the way of their growin'." Beck wasn't oblivious to the actions around him, far from it. He had been witness to many uprising clans over the years, yet failed to last longer than a generation. It was amusing, but it was enough information for him to twist. A pause from his ragged wheezing, and after thoughtfully swiping an electric-blue tongue over exposed teeth, he continued, injecting as much reasoning into his lies as possible. "Instead of lettin' 'em trample all over us, we gotta claim our stake now so that we don't have to be alone. But, 'course, if ya wanna leave and end up dead in a ditch somewhere, be my guest. Nobody's stoppin' ya." His glare flickered with a malicious light, and slouching forward off his self-proclaimed perch, the poltergeist teasingly added with a hoarse whisper, "'Cept ya don't have nowhere to go now, don'tcha?"

    It was a simple observation that rung true with most, if not all of the misfits gathered in front of him. Exactly why he targeted them. Uninterested in whatever the canine would spew out at him now, his nasty smirk disappeared as if it had never existed in the first place, and he refocused back on the crowd, bleary vision burning into the cloaked figure speaking. Intentions? He hadn't exactly thought about that... what would keep them here? What would prevent them from abandoning him? "To answer your question, ma'am, my 'intentions' would be to give y'all shelter. No double-crossin' or tricks. It ain't that uncommon to make groups -- strength in numbers, right? And, yeah, I'm gonna lead. I ain't got five-hundred and something-something years of experience for nothin'." Beck reasoned, muddied paw absentmindedly reaching to fiddle with the mask slung around his neck. He hated, hated this. Yet his freckled features remained expressionless despite the seemingly thousands of eyes all staring at him and his ugly mug, a tactic he had long since mastered. Another wildcat's concerns were voiced, in addition to the demanding shouts of a rather fierce girl, something much simpler to answer in theory. His name. An odd twinge of confusion crossed the mangy feline's face, whiskers flinching at the realization that he hadn't spoken his name in centuries. Shrugging away the creeping memories, the poltergeist rasped, unsure of where exactly to look a blind man in the eye, "It's, uh, Beck. Just Beck, I think. But -- But that doesn't matter." Too many names were being thrown around, too many scents gathered in one cramped area, too many smudged faces he couldn't distinguish. A frustrated huff left his scarred maw, and a dagger-like glare was directed towards Venus and her nickname. The boy waited through hopefully the final introduction with an impatient grimace, jaw clicking back and forth in anxiety. He was a fool for not planning more thoroughly, but there would be time for that, if he could retreat into a secluded place for a moment away from these assholes. A minute or so of nothing but silence from his end. Then finally, the entity reared his head and declared, "We outta have regular meetings like this one, maybe weekly, and we -- I mean, I can sort out more stuff there. For now, we should explore more of our territory or whatever, and maybe try to clean this town's mess up. If ya wanna help, go settle yourself into, I dunno, one of the houses around or somethin' and then make yourself useful." It was convenient that he had chosen a vacant town to drag creatures to, and seeing as they needed to sleep and eat and breathe, they needed houses. Houses already built and left for them. Rising to his feet on the statue's ledge, Beck arched his ruffled back in a lazy stretch, burnt snout parting and yawning, "And if ya got any more lame questions, speak now or hold your peace."
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[align=center]​​​​​​​​ tanglewood​​​​​​​ [size=11pt] medic info ​@tricky

He’d traveled far from the place that had once been his home. How had he ended up here? In this boggy, wet, radioactive, run-down town and forest? Following a ghost around for reasons that were still somewhat unclear to him? If only he knew.

The reptile had first discovered the ghost around a year and a half ago, a bored and angry human child wandering the woods, snarling at anything that walked by and aimlessly setting traps in the foliage. He’d like to believe that he remained undetected while he followed the boy. At least, until his ankle had been caught in a snare trap and he’d hung helplessly while the ghost stared and cackled unnervingly.

The truth was, the poltergeist had probably been aware of his unwanted tag along the whole time, but chose to ignore him.

Having been stuck hanging from the trap, the young dragon was left struggling, unable to free himself. It had only taken an hour after his capture to be abandoned by the ghost, having had his laugh. But the dragon had been trapped all day. He couldn’t free his ankle despite his efforts. Miserable and hungry he’d given up, his upper torso slouched on the wet ground and his rear suspended painfully in the air.

Unfitfully he’d fallen into a snooze. In the middle of the night the rope had snapped, and Ska’arq had received a rather surprising wake up call as he hit the ground. Head shooting up, startled, he could make out luminous amber eyes staring from the undergrowth before they vanished.

Since then he’d followed the ghost closer than ever, curious as to why he’d bothered to set him free and, in a sense, grateful. The human had tried to scare him off multiple times. Sometimes it was unexpected and it worked, but the purple winged lizard would always come back. The two couldn’t understand each other’s words, but the friendship still grew, even in silence.

Now he sat at the very back of the crowd, anxiously shuffling his feet as he stared at the strangers shouting challenges to the human-now-cat. The sudden transformation had come abruptly and strangely. The two had suddenly been able to understand each other. It was a strange experience. Then the ghost - Beck - had gone around gathering the wretched animals of the forest and, well, here they were.

He felt uncomfortable in the growing crowd, choosing to keep his mouth shut. The dragon fiddled with the vials around his neck. There were twelve. He was in the process of making the last one. Cyan eyes flickered up to the mangy cat standing on the stone, doubt flooding his mind. Would this really work? Would any of these animals work together and trust each other? He still didn’t understand trust.

Looking down at his muddy feet again, Ska’arq chose to remain silent.


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dragon — emotionless — tags — tanglewood — roleplayed by cakie !

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