DEALING WITH A WILDCARD — open, medic tryouts

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    SHE'S A GODDAMN QUEEN — duchess darling — ♀ — tags

    [fancypost=border-width:0px; width: 470px; text-align: justify; line-height: 123%; margin-top: 4pt][size=8]Lean muscles rippled beneath the Crown's sleek tawny fur as she prowled onto the scene. With Slinky having stepped down and all there was a gap to fill and the huntress had no plans on leaving it open for long. In fact she didn't plan on leaving it open for even a moment, thus why she was here perched atop the edge of a fountain in the garden. "ALL THOSE INTERESTED IN THE MEDIC TEAM GATHER BELOW THE FOUNTAIN." She called firmly with a flick of a show-cropped ear, her rose eyes even as she watched individuals filter forward. "These will be nice and simple, let me know who you are, about yourself, and why you want to be a part of the medic team. Normally this would be a herb training session but I don't know jack shit about herbs so let's make it nice and easy."


    Well at least she came by that much pretty honestly.

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    funhaus was never in a medical position before, or in any high position. he had managed to snag up a semi-high position back in shadowclan, but that only lasted for a week due to his constant inactivity. yet throughout the times that he would leave shadowclan then come back with wounds (most of which he never explained how he got them), he always spent an awful long time in the medic's den. radioactiveplague usually made him stay longer to make sure that his wounds were healed and that he got a swift lecture on him using drugs and alcohol again, which did manage to stop funhaus most of the time. due to his prolonged stays, it was easy to pick up what herbs did what and good things for a person with wounds to do to heal them up. although they were the basics, he still remembered all of it. so when the crown had called out for a tryout for the medical team, the canine couldn't help but wonder: should he join?


    he made his way over with small apologizes for the slightest of pushing, eyes downcast as to not see the npcs' annoyed faces. it was when he made it to the near front did he stop and look up at his leader, who he remembered faintly from his own joining. "um," he said softly, trying to mull over what to say. it wasn't a lot, but it took some time for the anxiety riddled canine to think. "i'm funhaus kovic bonaparte gabriel, but you can just call me funhaus. i, um, came from shadowclan and all that jazz. i have... two kids, although i, um, heh, like to call everyone my kid, sorry. i'm not really that interesting, so i dunno what else to really add. you can ask questions if you, um, wanna know more." he truly had no idea what else to add without spilling things that really nobody should hear or didn't know. nobody should have to know of his nightmarish royal ties/being the boogeyman, what he did when he was younger, or why he was an absolute mess. if duchess did ask any questions of that sort, he just hopes any vague answers didn't make him fit the cut. "i want to, um, join the medic team because i really like to help people. i'm not really the best at fighting, though i'm decent at it. i also, uh, already know a bit about herbs since i used to watch people do it when i used to get hurt... which was a lot. i feel like it'll be a nice change for me, especially because i...," he cut himself off before anything else slipped, "i just think it'll be nice to help people, y'know?"


    well, wasn't that a horrible attempt?

    [center][fancypost=borderwidth=0px; width: 350px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9;]In all honesty, he's just here to be the back-up, like a back-up dancer. In case something happens he can just fill in the spot temporarily until someone else can come in. Like a... Side hoe, but not a side hoe. He just wants to ensure that if his clan-mates need help then they'll get some form of it. The clouded leopard pads over, worried at first because it seemed like nobody was interested, but then Funhaus appeared. The canine looked like he would be suited for a position and perhaps he'll even gain it. Either way, all support is pushed towards his way. Fiery orange eyes slide back to Duchess as he thinks over her words as he comes to a halt. "Pretty sure most know my name, but it's Deadboy. I'm really tired all the time and just want some peace." An indirect way of talking about the two demons entwined with his soul. "I don't necessarily want to join the medic team, but rather a back-up in case something goes wrong and we have no current medic available. Like anyone else, I just want my fam– my clan-mates to be safe and well." He takes in a breath after stating those words and sits off to the side.

    [center][fancypost= background: transparent; borderwidth: 0px; width: 470px; text-align: justify; font-size: 8.5pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: arial; padding: 10px]Hoo boy. Nevin really wanted to fuck himself over, didn't he? First he hopped off the plane of existence for, like, a week, then came back like nothing happened. Smooth move, Nev. Smooth.


    He had ended up missing the meeting that had been held, but through the grapevine he heard some mentions of a medic team. Ah, the days of being medic.


    Yeah.


    Those didn't exist.


    He never really interacted with the medics, for he didn't get sick or injured often; there was the one week in ScarClan after his torture when he had to continually visit the medic, but he never knew the name of his helper and never bothered to come back once he deemed himself okay enough to handle his own wounds. But he did know herbs, and he was a decent people person, on a good day. Maybe not always, but most of the time. It seemed like an opportunity! And even if he wasn't chosen, he could be positive that those suited for the position better than him would be chosen. Perfect.


    Padding forward and nodding to the two clanners already present, he cleared his throat before speaking loud and clear. "My name is Nevin. Just Nevin." He stifled a snort, thinking about how 'just nevin' could easily become a running gag before continuing. "I used to be a part of The Garden and ScarClan. I've got friends in multiple places, and, uh... I don't know, I'm... pretty nice, I guess?" He sort of shrugged, and his tone became questionable before dropping his shoulders and finishing. "I wanna be a part of the medic team because I know at least some of the herbs, and i'm constantly willing to learn more about how to use them and the best ways to do so. I also know how to grow them well, at least, even if I don't know how to use 'em."


    He ended with another little shrug, then sat on his haunches, waiting to see if anyone else would approach.


    [spoiler=tags ; 21/7]BASIC
    name nevin
    age 32 moons
    gender male
    sexuality homoromantic homosexual
    rank acolyte of the sanctuary ; previously leader of the garden
    titles previous / gardener of the garden ; loyalist of the garden ; hospital of the garden
    APPEARANCE
    species domestic feline
    eyes left is brown, right is blue
    fur pale white, fluffy in places (like the face) but also very short in places (like the flank)
    build generally lanky/thin
    markings black splotches around his eyes, on where his temples would be above his eyes, and on the front of his mouth/nose. (also has some scars on the pelt/scarred paw pads)
    [ ref 1, ref 2 ]
    PERSONALITY
    + kind
    + humorous
    + open
    + can be energetic
    - sassy
    - easily annoyed
    - sensitive
    - can be passive-aggressive
    BATTLE
    ; ask for permanent maim/kill
    ; pm for capture
    ; minor maim is fine
    ; attack in bold, italic blue

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    MY LOVE WON'T REASON — circe — sanctum — they/them — tags

    [fancypost=border-width:0px; width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 125%]Circe knew that this was the only position in which they could thrive. They had almost no experience with fighting--as shown by the multiple scars upon their muzzle--and had no intention of furthering their skills in combat. It was not the path they wished to follow.


    The horned wolf was rather surprised at the extremely small knowledge of herbs within their new home, and hoped that they could get the job just so that they had someone more experienced to provide high level medicine. "Circe." This would have to be one of those times when they forced themselves to speak more than they were normally comfortable. In her previous nomadic lifestyle, they had almost no need to ever speak, and were usually silent unless they were asked a question. They spoke rather strangely, but they hoped that they could be understood as well as anyone else. "Two years with travel, making potions and herbs. Very good knowledge of growing and using." And now... why? Why did they wish to be a medic? "No desire to fight, wish to help with healing instead of tooth and claw. Will work to keep safe." Their words were beyond serious, and their expression was just the same. "My passion is to heal." Would that be enough? They already felt odd speaking so much about themselves; they didn't want to seem as if they were bragging.

    [center][fancypost=background-color:; border: 0px; font-family: arial; font-size: 14px; color: black]「 kiss me on the mouth and set me free — sing me like a choir 」

    There was one thing Lirim never recalled being in this life, and that was any sort of beneficial member of a clan that didn't have a wish to kill others in one way or another. Herbs and healing had never truly been their calling, and even less their passion. They had left it to the ones who had to sew their many meat suits back together after all the pain they had willingly thrown themselves into, and the creature had never truly bothered in understanding any of it. As far as they were concerned, there were far better things to spend your time doing, and trying to learn the tedious art of what leaf did what seemed like total bullshit when you could just magically wave the wound away if you wanted to. But that was unorthodox, and no one wanted the void touching their body and having life threatening diseases suddenly disappear. For some reason everyone seemed far more content with chilling in their destroyed body than letting Lirim get them a new one.


    So therefore Lirim had never ventured into the healing branch of any political system, much preferring the adrenaline of battle and the thrill of politics. Always knowing someone's going to stab your back was fun to have to deal with on a daily basis, and it was great having to deal with how tiring it was to try and lead a clan full of dimwits. Not that they wanted to be rude, no not at all, but unlike anyone else probably applying for this position they were far from a people person. If they couldn't heal you, they'd just leave you to die and shrug with a 'what the hell was I supposed to do if you didn't want to accept magic as a cure?'


    But for some reason things were changing, though if it was necessarily for the better they did not know. Some would argue against it, though Lirim tried to think on the positive side that it meant they were starting to become more good then they had ever been so far. If that meant accidentally killing someone in the process... so be it.


    "Lirim Break. I've never held a medic position because no one ever wanted magic interfering, but yet here I am trying again I guess. I know everything you need to know about herbs and healing and all that stuff, and I'll try my very bestest to not kill someone in the process. Anyways, I'm the void... and I like fashion. Peace," they huffed out as they approached, taking their signature spot next to Funhaus as they did so. "But I don't want to steal the position from someone far more worthy, so if the end battle happens to be between me and Funhaus here, then give the position to him." Like they said - healing still wasn't something they were particularly seeking. But it'd be a fun experience, no?


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    [center][fancypost=;border:0px;width:450px;text-align:justify][size=8]THESE WILL CLOSE AT 8:00PM CST TONIGHT, GET YOUR APPLICATIONS IN BEFORE THEN!

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    SHE'S A GODDAMN QUEEN — duchess darling — ♀ — tags

    [fancypost=border-width:0px; width: 470px; text-align: justify; line-height: 123%; margin-top: 4pt][size=8]THE WINNERS HAVE BEEN CHOSEN AND ANNOUNCED IN THE MEETING.