EVERYBODY LIKES TO GET TAKEN FOR TURNS ◇ gaia cleanup / wt

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  • When Heavensdoor was given the task of cleaning up around the Gaia, it seemed easy enough. It would be simple work, clearing up a few branches, all he had to do was toss them in a pile somewhere and he'd be finished. And, with his telekinesis, how hard could that be?


    Unfortunately, he had overestimated his strength, especially on a particular branch he was focused on that had crumbled off of the tree during the Ruiner's fire. He had learned the hard way that he couldn't use his powers on anything heavier than himself, and even though it was only slightly, it was heavier nonetheless. He probably looked ridiculous, adamantly glaring at a fallen tree branch, his brows furrowing as it didn't budge. With a sigh, his features eventually softened, realizing that he'd have to do this the hard way. He found a good spot to lift from and clenched the branch in between his teeth, straining himself to try and lift it up enough for him to drag it away. Unfortunately, Heavensdoor had gotten quite used to relying on his telekinesis instead of the strength within his body to move things, and the strength he had was quite little.


    So, there he was, dragging a branch across the grass, silently hoping nobody was watching as he struggled to pull it across to the pile of other branches. He could pin the blame on Ruiners, if anyone was. If they hadn't decided to storm through and destroy everything, perhaps he wouldn't have to be dragging a fallen tree branch around right then. For a second, he paused, his eyes scanning the land as he let go of the branch, only to see more broken limbs lying still around the Gaia. He severely, severely underestimated how much effort it would take to get this all done.

    THAT LONG BLACK CLOUD IS COMING DOWN

    I FEEL LIKE I'M KNOCKING ON HEAVEN'S DOOR

    the sanctuary ◇ honor ◇ storage ◇ roleplayed by puddinghead

  • Unfortunately for Heavensdoor, Arlo would be the least helpful in this situation. It was obvious with his small and frail body that he couldn't lift anything for the life of him. He didn't even have telekinesis, so that option was also out the window. Still, though, Arlo felt guilty just sitting there watching Heavensdoor struggle... But what could he even do to help? If he tried, he could probably pick up some of the smaller brances. At the very least it could lighten some of the workload. "Um, d-do you n-need help?" he awkwardly asked.


    //bad mobile post

       

    • * ₊ ° 。ARLO DONATELLI / THE SANCTUARY / TAGS

    they all come to him 'cause he's so eager to please ━━ ✩

  • BEAT THE FUCK OUT OF YOUR FACE, YOU A FUCKIN' STAIN TO ME

    While Siej was also admittedly very small for a hellhound, he was still larger than both Arlo and Heavensdoor. But he was also fucking jacked. Or as jacked as a small hellhound could be. And he, for the most part, had no problem moving things like branches and rocks, not like Heavensdoor seemed to be having. There was a moment, a brief flicker of mocking amusement within solid black eyes as he watched the feline struggle, and then it disappeared when Arlo showed up. Heaving a sigh, the hound trudged over, peering down at Hev with a cocked brow, silently asking the same question as his small boyfriend. Although, he clearly did need help. In fact, Hev and Arlo both looked like they'd get blown away by a strong gust of wind. Tiny little things they were.

    LIFE IS A BITCH WITH NO MOUTH AND NO LIPS

    but it sure ain't no fun with no teeth and no tongue information

  • ༅:*・゚゚・⭑ She'd decided to be a helping presence around this group, at least until she could find Red. Bring him back, do something. Her nose twitches slightly, perhaps secret amusement at the other's struggle - though that was highly unlikely, due to her own nature and her own past. Another tiny, little thing decided to help - she was only a domestic cat and hawk hybrid, after all. Flicking her tail back and forth, she decides to try to grab the other side of the branch. "Is this easier?" She asks, tilting her head.

    WHITE of CRIME

    WHITE of CRIME


    ༅:*・゚゚・⭑

  • they disliked busy work such as this and they disliked any kind of group activity , so it was a miracle that they had forced themselves over to this little cleaning crew . the only thing driving them into the socially and physically draining situation was the idea that they needed to work harder to uphold the promotion that they had received the week prior . rhodostephes came to a halt beside arlo , wine eyes closing as they quietly prepared themselves to not be alone . " what can i do ? " they finally ask , shoulders rolling with the words before they lock on to heavensdoor . they hope the answer is a polite ' nothing ' at best , or perhaps something like ' just move some of these small objects ' at worst .


    "SPEECH"

    ━━━━━━━━ BLUE SUIT WITH A BLOW OUT

    IF YOU GOT A BOUNTY THEN YOU BETTER NOT GO OUT * :・゚✧

    rhodostephes f. x. m. | sanctuary neophyte + healing disciple | tags

  • MYSTICPAW | SANCTUARY NEOPHYTE | BIO


    ( retro to capture )


    Mystic had almost never considered any consequence to his action, his hand laced naught with the binding of regret nor guilt. He was a free thing, with no chain of rust-blessed iron, a force based upon the bare elements around he. His soul did not constrain itself unto death, in a prison of its own handiwork - therefore, deathly figure, phantom in its eidolon, bore not in his mind. But the fire that the Sanguine Ruins had set had devastated through the entire meadow, with a rage quelled none by the waters of mercy, once luxuriant and kissed by the lover of glory. It made him ponder of such things, his mind wandering about, possibility unraveling as the threads to yarn. Such was the butterfly effect - the errant flap, a movement containing no bearing to the soul, of an insect led to greater outcome, one that could not be foreseen or dreamt of. Perhaps now he would grow up, mold himself into his skin that rended with the tide of seasons, almost ripe in adulthood. To stop playing the role of the childish wonder, removed from true horror... What a task that haunted him... "... That's a lot of branches." He commented, his tone sure upon foothold paved with jutting pebble and rock. His brows furrowed, fiction found only in his creases. He blinked about, staring at his clanmates rumbling about, a hustle, almost. He then attempted to drag around a branch - he could have altered himself into a bigger body that bore more muscle to its name, but he didn't feel it demanded a change - the deign spoke not. His crows clambered about the dead limbs that swirled with the story of the long-lived tree, though gathered as they circled about the sky.

    LOOK IT'S YOU, GOOD AS NEW, NEW HANDS, NEW THROAT, NEW LIVING TISSUE

    YOU EARNED THIS NEW PURPOSE; LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT AWARD! —