FESTIVAL OF LIGHTS ;; Party

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    [size=8] JAMMAL
    Tonight, the camp was different. Where the glow of morning shined through the cave was two stands, one each made of three long sticks with a ball of moss propped into the air. Yellow flame licked inside, up into the sky and inviteing any exile inside. Within the camp one could find the entire camp no longer dark, but illuminated by the large bonfire that was within the scent of camp. The fire was warm but not unpleasantly so. Timber as big of trees, logs ranging from a foot to half a foot stacked together in a triangle form and lit aflame just short of the roof of camp where; the flames of azure yellow lapped happily. Crackling and sizzling as it consumed the log under it in a slow gradual process.


    Jammal had set cages out, hanging from the stalactites and filled with straw and lit aflame, an occasional prisoner or two that cried for help. Jammal had set the prisoner's there on purpose, within the corner where the walls met the floor were spears with moss attached to an end, meant to throw at the prisoner's in delight. near each entrance to the dens sat tables, mostly humanized treats that the panther could get his hands on, but very little freshly killed meats. The prey had been scarce and he had indeed noticed, yet this was a party, and he had meant to accustom every pallet of his rouge-mates.


    And jammal stood right under the slop where dystopia sat when delivering meetings. His wings spread out and grin stretched far with mirth. "Welcome Exiles, to the festival of lights!" He was told to host a party, an event to help ease tensions, this seamed like the perfect name for the party, a clever one that might even grab a few other's attention if the large amounts of fire didn't.[center][color=transparent] xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

    [color=white]General:
    ? Jammal Adalgar | "Jam"
    ? Male | Bisexual | Polyamorous
    ? 16 moons | Ages realistically
    ? Concerned Jam™
    ? Master of warfare | Exiles loyalist
    ? Has hemophilia
    Physical:
    ? Black Panther [main] | Health: 100%
    ? A black panther with marbled black spots; these spots are only clear in the sunlight. Jammal is built for war, and as he matures he grows a very sturdy built. Meant to overpower his enemies with brute force rather than speed. He is fast, but very clumsy due to his short tail. Sprouting from his shoulder blades are large raven wings, that stretch out of a wingspan twice the length of him from nose to tail. Around the age of twelve Jammal started to develop feathers on his elbows to help with balance.
    ? Scarring: A large burn that covers his left collarbone, a short tail, and long scratch marks on the inside of both os forearms.
    ?Mutations: Black wings; Feathers on the edges of his joints on legs and base of tail.
    Personality:
    ? intp-f | neutral evil
    ? Vengeful | Malicious | Cynical
    ? Forever concerned for others | Thoughtful | Observant
    ? Suffers from mild PTSD


  • Cyrus was pleased with the party. Quite satisfied, really! "Well done, Jammal. Love the setup!" he chattered out, veering around the bonfire with a frightened side eye.



    "speaking" "actions"


  • Oh, gosh. This was perfect, honestly, but Maru was biased. Parties were always his favorite. He shuffled over, skipping close to the bonfire to feel the heat lick his whiskers. "Thanks for doing this, man." Maru murmured, laying down and stretching out on the warmed stone.

  • [center][fancypost= bgcolor=; border: 0px; width: 450px; line-height: 150%; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9pt;]Greer had certainly been a little... Surprised by the setup, to say the least. The Exiles seemed certainly strange to her, and it only seemed to get more queer when she saw animals locked in cages. However, she'd rather not cause a fuss about something that was probably fake, probably like, a Halloween decorating. Still, she couldn't help but feel like at any moment she was going to be kidnapped or some shit and shoved in a cage, made to dance like a monkey for entertainment. But there wasn't even a possibility of that, could there be? Either way, Greer had no plans to compliment the party due to such a disturbing element, but instead she'd stand close to the bonfire. The Scottish wildcat cleared her throat, and then speaking up. "Does anyone know where the bevvy is?" By that, she meant a drink. Nobody had really ever liked Greer when she drank too much, considering her already aggressive nature was amplified more then it should be. But she had never really cared, she liked being the life of the party.