control yourself | trespassing patrol

  • With the buffeting winds and the snow being thrown all around, the woman was hardly able to tell where the scent lines remained. She, along with her patrolmates, seemed to have stumbled right over it and just a few meters passed before finally slowing to a stop to see how the other half lived, only to hardly see anything at all due to the blizzard. Amelia, unaware of how far into Sanctuary territory they stood, flicked her tail and turned to her fellow Brigadiers, "I figured we would see more," she huffed, agitation filling her voice, "We might have to prep for a move - there's no easy surviving in the territory while it's like this," she rolled her shoulders back uncomfortably, the chill seeping into her bones.

  • tumblr_inline_owh77s5QCP1ugr69g_540.jpgtumblr_inline_owgfxkdMJB1ugr69g_540.jpgtumblr_inline_owgfx74jKj1ugr69g_540.png



    While it would be natural for Angel to detest the cold and snow whipping around her, she actually found it quite pleasant. The cold made her chest numb so she could walk around for quite a long time without the throbbing ache of her healing wounds. Her four wings were curled around most of her body to try and lock in some of her body heat as she tried to see through the thick blizzard. "Where would we go Ame?" The catsune inquired, still learning the ins and outs of the clan she lived in.

    "Angel"  "Mimi"  "Honey"



    ( the ashes fall, we answer the call, whatever it takes )

    Storage All Actions/Opinions IC Penned by Luna

  • ✦ ✧ ✦ returning to the biting chill of the sanctuary was always a slap in the face. hyperia, though cold, managed to remain tolerable enough for the inky vulpine. the unique magic that engulfed the islands seemed to work on the weather as well, and for that he was grateful. and as much as spiritline would like to hole up in the warmth of his cottage (or curled against a certain winged lion), he couldn't neglect the duties he'd willingly shouldered as a member of the sanctuary.

    even in the swirling snow, the fox was out and about. icy winds sank their teeth into his skin, chilling him straight to the bone. some might say his decision to patrol during a blizzard was foolish (and he wouldn't necessarily deny such a claim) but he felt his reasons were fair. such harsh conditions meant clan mates and enemies alike could easily become ensnared by simple aspects of the territory. and it seemed his hunting efforts were about to pay off.

    he'd caught wind of the brigade's scent as he prowled forward, amber eyes narrowed against the onslaught of snowflakes. it took a little bit of work to hunt them down, and even standing relatively close (too close), he was having trouble clearly making out their forms. "having fun out here?" he quips, though it's more of a bark as the wind quickly whisks his voice away. if he recalls correctly, these should be his enemies. spiritline has no intention of letting them get away with, well, whatever it is they're doing, but he also doesn't want to immediately turn them away.

    epiales was right, i shouldn't help the enemy. the thought quickly crosses his mind, and he subconsciously gnashes his teeth. his brother was too narrow-minded to have his advice applied to this particular situation. after all, helping the enemy is what ultimately saved epiales' life. would it be so bad to take a similar chance once more?




  • ◞➳ she shouldn't be out here. no one should be out here.

    yet here she stands.

    winds icy, weather terrible. winter hooks into the bones of her rib cage, toughened backcountry winters crackling into the hearths of her flame. winterhymn's request for her to keep the sanctuarians close to gaia a thought sinking into mind faintly. as asked of her, she's re-routed a few stragglers back toward the cottages and tents before storm truly grew formidable and terrible. storm, a rising storm, ominous and vicious, it's dangerous, and set it's sights on these meadowlands. not for the first time that day do her thoughts re-route back to little meeting, a singular question settling into the blankets of her rotted mind like a current of snow; is this what win was warnin' us about?

    she's seen her fair share of blizzards cruel and cutting, this heavy storm releasing a stuttering flutter of uncertainty and dread, sickeningly familiar, to unleash within pit of her stomach. they had barely survived the blizzard that bared upon them the year before, pulled through by but skin of teeth. bitterness taints and twists the mind as she ponders it. dear gaia, has her home not suffered enough already?

    smell of rustic city and ageing paint breaks the strands of thoughts frantically tying themselves together, and her head turns. it's irony in purest forms, she taunts fate what else it may throw their way and it shows her just what. that taunting stench of brigadiers is looming through the tousling of sleet and snow, faint but definitely there, definitely detectable. lowly growl thrums against her chest before she can help it, alarm bells swarm and sirens blare into the riots of her thoughts. IT'S AN INVASION, comes the worst of them, and embers blitz, smoke spiraling across the silky strands of dead girl's ambered fur and she moves forward to greet them without even a second of thought, suspecting confrontation, bitter cynic certain of the worst.

    ( how terribly poor it is of her to go it alone though, impulsiveness ridden hotly into the laced indigo blues of those puppeted veins. )

    cresting hills with new purpose to steps, desire to protect, defend, protect, defend, protect, defend a mantra curling around the fog of her thoughts but then the voices come. faintly, they roll and comb across her ears, and she recognizes almost none of them. violence bleeds and trembles shakily into burning palms, suspecting the worst, the absolute worst. a move, one said. are they tryin' to chase us out of our own lands? fury ignites, and even though she will never admit it, the sharpest bits of panic to embed the heart all needle like. it's worst of fears, threatening to materialize at any moment, the thought of losing her home, permanently.



    no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

    she nearly combusts altogether, amalgation of flame and bones and dead things pretending to be alive when spiritline's voice crests over head next, an anchor nearly, most definitely, for another of her own, of the sanctuary is here. burning, burning, her fire flickers fleetingly, dulls some but still it eats at her paws as she moves onto the scene at last, her limbs stiff, lavender eyes blown wide even through the buffeting of the winds and enchanted with suspicion, with paranoia and accusations. "y'all know yer on sanctuarurian lands, don'tcha now? pretty sure th' border's a lil' bit back." chicagocrimes' allows herself to drawl, the words curving over the dip of her blasphemous, sinning tongue, all blunted knives and silvered. she settles beside spiritline, head tilting to a single side as tension sizzles, pops, and crackles.

    or maybe that's just her.

  • Chicagocrimes wasn't the only one with a drawl.

    Brother hated nearly everything about being out here. The constant haze helped obscured his vision. The darkness of the clouds above gave his light little to work with, and the constant pelting of snow would give away too much of his shadow manipulation. The winds gave him little control over his sedatives. And worst of all, it was just so darn cold.

    He had made no effort to let the other Brigaders know that he had joined their patrol, for how long, or just how fuzzy the little cat-jacket he was wearing truly was. He hadn't planned on letting anyone know really, until now. Until there was a fire elemental starting to spark in front of him, in the middle of the snow storm. Brother meowed, wiggling over perpendicular to Chicagocrimes, sitting down right beside her in the snow, "Lil' lassy, could ya please quit that there fi'gitin'? That flame of yurs be mighty we'come in this whiteout. Yes-m I think we all'd like a moment to sit 'ere 'nd cook like a snug lil rump roast." The tux didn't mind being a small little housecat up beside a caracal if it meant blocking out some of the wind.

    Current characters:

    "Brother" (Painted Brigade) - Tuxedo Cat, 3 years old. Casually spirited, smarter than he lets on. Speaks with an accent that's somewhere between a pirate and a southern gent. {Tags and storage}

    Signals: "Speech." Attempted attack. Attempted kill. //OOC

  • things haven't been well for the sanctuary either. snow fall was recent, building and building as days went by. a certain nervousness had grasped at him, making his stomach churn with worry and concern. he hadn't felt right for days, which would explain why he did not go beyond their camp at times, preferring to stay and tend to his clanmate's wants and wishes whenever he could. they were stuck between a rock and a hard place, with food being chased off because of the sudden snow.

    and now a blizzard was among them, buffeting wind and whipping snow into his face as he struggled to stand upright. the snow was very nearly up to the cub's chest as he pushed forward, the smell of the painted brigade upon the wind. electricity crackled and popped from his pelt, little green fingers of lightning combing down his pelt. he barely sees the forms of chicagocrimes, spiritline, and poisonpaw before he sees the rest of the brigadiers. the pale cougar's fur bristled slightly, anticipating kingpin's abhorrent presence, before seeing that he wasn't here at all. it did little to ease him, but he suspected that something might be off.

    so he turns to who he presumed to be the head of the patrol, amelia, seafoam green eyes narrowed. "what are you doing here?" the cub speaks, his voice rough as electricity continued to stream through his fur.


    𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘩𝘺𝘮𝘯 / 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 / 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 / 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘺𝘢𝘬𝘢𝘯


    Yikes, feisty bunch. Well, Amelia didn’t mind a bit of sass. Purring, the tigress would shift close and smile. Chicagocrimes seemed particularly nice to toy with, since they seemed the most defensive. “Why, cutie, we know where the border is. We just wanted to see if your side of the lake was looking as shitty as ours. From the looks of it,” her voice is smooth, soothing as she looks the other female up and down, obviously making a scene of checking her out. A devilish glean fills her eyes, slowly stepping back.

    Looks like there’s something stunning right in front of me.”


    ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀs ᴏɴ ᴏɴᴇ ʜᴀɴᴅ
    ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ
    ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴏʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ
    ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴇᴇʟ, ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴇᴇʟ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ

    ɪᴛ's ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴡᴀʟᴋ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴋ
    ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ
    ʙᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴏᴜʀ ғɪɴɢᴇʀs ɪɴᴛᴇʀʟᴏᴄᴋ,
    ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴅᴇɴʏ, ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴅᴇɴʏ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴛʜ ɪᴛ
    'ᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜɪs ᴛɪᴍᴇ ɪ'ᴍ sᴛɪʟʟ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ

  • Moments after leader arrives on the scene, Suzume also makes an appearance. Dark fur causes youth to seem more like a shadow against the raging backdrop of white and even then, it'd difficult to truly make him out. Blizzard picking up around them, tension dangerously electric while it crackles amongst them as though lighting is moments away from coursing through the air, everything about the situation feels oh so chaotic. Suzume would be lying if he tried to claim that he was not excited.

    Unlike his fellow group mates, little sparrow boy remains notably chipper in the face of issue. Lips arch into a bright grin, needle sharp teeth glinting as white as the wintry landscape swirling and howling around them as he comes to stand by Chicagocrimes, casually placing himself between dead woman and the stranger who had thought it was a smart to settle near fiery Sanctuarian. Although he knew Chica was far from defenceless, something about the nonchalance of perceived stranger and potential threat rubbed him up the wrong way.

    These individuals were not allies, that much was clear from the reactions of the other Sanctuary members. Of course, that did not mean that he was about to delve headfirst into hostility, far too sweet and curious for that. But it also did not mean that he was about to tolerate actions taken against his group, focus honing in on Min with amicable smile soft against his lips. "Well, folks, there's not much to see here apart from a whole lot of snow so you're not missing out on anything," he chirps, vibrant youth unfaltering even as he stood before trespassing party, "You guys should just go back home now, though. It'd be a shame if anyone froze out here."

    our little fake brigade of friends, i never wanted it to end

  • This was rude with a capital R. Brother grimaced as a stranger wiggled his way between himself and the flaming bone undead... cat. As Brother wiggled around Suzume, his coat dragged in the snow, leaving a nice wide brush over his tracks, rocked gently with the tux's woddling shivering. From above, he might have looked like a little pillbug. A little... little pillbug made of fur and wool. A little pillbug much too cold to meow a bequeathment for pardon, asking the stranger not to hog all the heat from Chicagocrimes. Nor, for that matter, a meow of concurrence that it was much too cold for them to have any business out here in the first place, leaving him only to nod subtlety as he started carving out a place in the snow to get comfortable again. Brother was already missing his nice, warm kitchen and furnace.

    Current characters:

    "Brother" (Painted Brigade) - Tuxedo Cat, 3 years old. Casually spirited, smarter than he lets on. Speaks with an accent that's somewhere between a pirate and a southern gent. {Tags and storage}

    Signals: "Speech." Attempted attack. Attempted kill. //OOC

  • Decemberlights Fallout


    lupurca - male - single - black rams horns & retractable claws

    Among the many members of the Painted Brigade was December. The short lupurca boy was quietly flanking Amelia as the group neared the border, green eyes watchful and body alert. The last little while had been a barrage of one downfall after another, and it seemed that everytime they fixed one issue another was quick to rise in it's place. Perhaps because of this the young Officer was feeling a bit more guarded that day. He didn't like all the trouble that had been coming to his peoples doorstep, not when they were so badly prepared for it in the midst of winter. It would be different if they weren't in the middle of a resource crisis or on the brink of losing an important political tie with the Exiles, but as it stood everything seemed to fragile right now. And he would always prioritize his group over another. All it would take is a word from Amelia and he would be the first to charge the animals gathering on the other side of the border, perfectly willing to take what they had if it meant his clanmates would have the means to live more comfortably.

    reference art/headshot by me


    male - lupurca - 15 months - chromatic commander - penned by Symmetry

    Known as 'Dizzy' to his friends, December is a young black and gold lupurca hybrid and the youngest of the Fallout children. He's handsome in a soft/boyish way, with a sleek and healthy look to him despite the fact that he's rather runty for a lupurca. His mutations include black ram horns, and retractable claws.

    friendly - energetic - protective- loyal - outspoken - affectionate - wears his emotions on his sleave - short tempered - aggressive

  • Amelia should've long expected the Sanctuary to appear on their border as soon as they smelled the other side coming close. In truth, she did, figuring she'd see one or two of them before they would split paths and walk away from each other, hopefully unharmed and excused. Spiritline was a welcome and expected sight to which she wore a nervous smile and dipped her head, "Hardly, though my son has become quite the snowman fanatic," making small talk with the supposed enemy. Real... leaderly, of you Amelia.

    Before long, however, more of them came. A woman and her son. The woman's name was lost to her but the son was relevant in her eyes. Winterpaw - the current leader. Another approached, and though his words had no intended malice, she could only imagine how much venom they truly held. None of them should be out here in the cold, none of them should be suffering how they were. Enemies or not, Amelia cared for most (if not all) living creatures. Children like Winterpaw shouldn't be fearing to fight tooth and nail, especially in this weather.

    "Brother, please come back over here," she offered the subtle plead to the boy, Angelbeats' previous question lost to the turning cogs of her mind. They must've stepped over the border on accident, to which Amelia would be quick to explain. She was even given a chance to by the woman - though she was spoken over by the others that lingered. Maybe if she just focused in on the other leader, ears pinned to her head in hopes to show her humility in the situation, We didn't mean to.

    "Kingpin is gone," she muses to the cub, her claws hooking into the snow as the wind threatened to push over her much smaller form, "And I have no wish to continue a useless war, especially not when our lands are so... troubled, in themselves. My Clanmates and I didn't mean to step over the border, and for that I ask for forgiveness," she however took a step forward, clearly afraid of the electricity and fire that crackled between mother and son. This was a spur of the moment speech, a plead she hadn't the time to prepare for. It was either run and leave Sanctuary to pick at their ruins, or ask for a moment of peace while their lands fought with mother nature herself. She wished for the second, "I'm not sure how you are fairing on your side of the lake, but without releasing too much, we aren't doing so hot either. How about a truce, Winterpaw? Something small between the lake-Clans until this snowstorm is over. Can we please do that?" she was more than willing to discuss upon it further, but given she was asking for it with no prior preparation, she didn't move to suggest it first.

    [ TAGS ]

  • Oh what now? Everyone had agreed that they shouldn’t be out in these conditions, but look where they were now. It was too late now to avoid being involved, so he may as well add his two cents in. "First of all," He began as he caught up with his clanmates at the border. "His name is Winterhymn." Doesn’t this chick know who she’s dealing with? And she wants to stop the war. "If you wanted to see how bad our territory was, maybe you could look at your own. It never got any better the closer you came to ours did it?" Continuing on, Metallicskies would throw a less than amused glance at whom he assumed was the leader of this patrol. Hopefully Winterhymn had a little more sense than this other feline did.

  • Another creature approached, though his words held far more venom than the prior few. He handed off some useful information rather crossly, and while Amelia felt her mouth dry, she tried to not stutter, "In that case, I apologize. Last I saw him, he was still a 'paw," she explained calmly. She turned her gaze from the rather rude tom and back to Winterhymn, ignoring Metallicskies further and doing her best to not play into whatever trap he was trying to lay. She was treating them with the utmost respect she could muster - it was almost pitiful that this tom couldn't even attempt the same, "Congratulations. I doubt it means much coming from a Brigadier, but I feel it's in order, especially after a fumble like this," she told the boy, dipping her head and trying to still her shivers. She was still waiting for him to either deny or accept her plea for a truce, but she hoped that speaking so simply and calmly would sweeten the deal. Lord knows they needed it.

    [ TAGS ]

  • more of his own and more of her own arrive, and the faerie king can almost taste the tenseness that sat upon the air. it made his stomach roll uncomfortably, the fur along his spine prickle, and the electricity that combed through his pale fur turn a margin brighter as a result of his flickering emotions. a part of him had feared an attack, and he shared the same troubling thoughts and assumptions as his beloved mother did, but he didn't want to think it true. the sanctuary absolutely could not and would not be pushed away from their lands -- not while he was still leading.

    "kingpin is gone." fiercely brilliant green eyes seemed to soften slightly at her words. that abhorrent, disagreeable, selfish man was gone, gone from the brigade. a part of him hopes he might've died or something, but he found himself surprised and disgusted that he'd hope for such a thing to happen to someone. the newly appointed prismatic commander continues on, and he clings onto her words as she says them. slowly, but surely, he becomes less guarded and more of his weary nature comes to light as the cub's shoulders fall from their tight, rigid positions, and his electricity stops crackling and popping.

    she wishes to call a truce. he had attempted to speak to kingpin about this before, only for his kindness to be thrown right back into his face. he wanted a war that made no sense, that wouldn't get either of them anything. that man had been an utter fool, and he had felt bad for the people he led. this woman, whomever she was, had her head screwed on securely. he felt like ...he felt like he could trust her and her words. winterhymn had always shied away from violence. he wasn't at all like the woman who had took him in, who had all the attitude of an gun with its safety turned off -- ready to shoot off at any given moment should something upset her.

    he is quiet for a moment before he goes to speak up, his mouth parted as the words formed on his tongue. metallicskies' input makes the child leader pause, and a quiet sigh falls from his mouth. "don't be rude, please." the pale furred shepherd would tell her quickly and quietly, yet firmly. he hadn't aged much at all since the last time he and amelia saw each other. he turns his weary gaze back onto the brigade leader, his expression softer. "this war shouldn't have been waged in the first place," he says, "but kingpin was stubborn, and couldn't swallow his own pride to prevent an unnecessary war." he appears regretful for a moment, the corners of his lips dropping into a frown. "i'm glad that you have much more sense than he does. we have a truce."

    his gaze flickers to the faces of the other brigadiers briefly and for the first time in a long time, win felt the slightest bit of relief slither through him. it was marginal, but present nonetheless. a more tragic war avoided, there was something else that was on his mind; something far more worrying, in his own opinion. "amelia ...we haven't been well off either, as you can see. but, i have this ...feeling that things are only going to get worse." it was a feeling he couldn't describe. it was internal, and powerful. the gaia must be warning him about something bad. he felt it, and he felt that it wouldn't be right to not at least warn his neighbors that this bad thing was encroaching upon them.


    𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘩𝘺𝘮𝘯 / 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 / 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 / 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘺𝘢𝘬𝘢𝘯

  • [ sorry for how late this is! ]

    She wished that she could revel in how he shifted at her initial news. Kingpin had been gone for longer than she lead, a mysterious man arriving and taking his place. For a bit no one questioned it, but before long the newcomer became absent and Amelia left it up to vote. Vote said she lead - though Brother seemed to have voted for no leader at all. She loosely missed Kingpin and wondered where he had gone, but she would agree in that he was a horrible diplomat. Perhaps she only appreciated him because he was the grandfather of her children. It would fit, she felt.

    Amelia pulled her lips into a thin line as Winterhymn went on to express his distaste for how Kingpin handled the 'war,' but she left the playing field open without her input. She'd rather not say something so cross and have word travel to wherever the man lie, lest he be on her behind for smack-talking him. Paranoia that he would return and resume his spot on the throne was rather adamant to the young woman, but she tried to keep from letting it overtake her. Her expression, however, morphed as he agreed upon their truce. He built it on Kingpins shortcomings and how she seemed perhaps only slightly better than him - but it was enough for her. At least until this horrid storm was over, the lake territories were at peace.

    "Thank you, Winterhymn," she hummed softly, head dipping with her words in a vague attempt to solidify them some. His following words were troubling, but somehow moreso due to the fact that she hadn't been getting similar vibes. She hoped it to be a thing that was strictly his, as having an immense feeling of dread caught in her chest was more of a hobby than a daytime job. She looked over her Clanmates, as well as the Sanctuarians, and tugged her ears back some, "I'm hoping the feeling is more of a stomach bug, than anything," she admitted at first, "But should something befall your Clan during our truce, I wouldn't mind helping in any way possible. We... ah, we ran into a bear-and-Hellraiser problem recently, so our food and herb stores are... less than desirable. But we have shelter, and a few good fishermen that may help remedy otherwise. That is, of course, if you would like to extend similar help," she hoped he would. Sticking her neck this far out was just asking for her to be decapitated by her own Clanmates.

    [ TAGS ]

  • Don’t be rude? He wasn’t being rude at all. Snorting, the tom would gaze at the leaders questioningly, not pressing the matter further. Did she only come to resolve things because they’re in deep shit? Why should we fall for this crap? He could only hope that Winterhymn would handle the matter with caution.