FIGHTING YOURSELF | 9/13 MEETING


  • "Time for a meeting."


    Felix was no stranger to hunger. As an apprentice, the motto of his life was work or starve; there was no room for slackers when each day was spent marching, training, fighting, dying. As a child he was tasked with following around the older apprentices, helping with odd jobs around the encampments, learning how to stay away from the wheels of carts and out of sight when someone made a mistake and an elder warrior was feeling particularly brutish. Delivering food to the ill or wounded was simple, mindless work — he'd learned how to mull over his thoughts as he cleaned weapons after a raid or hung up blankets to dry following a night of unwelcome rain. Until he was old enough to really defend himself, it wasn't uncommon for other kids to swipe from his daily rations. For a long time he was the youngest, which automatically made him the weakest, and as a kitten Felix also learned how to deal with having his food taken, and how to weather the wounded pangs of hunger which followed. Once when he dared complain, new to the workload after a month of being holed up in the medic's quarters on account of being too young to start training, he was met with unimpressed, annoyed stares at best and the ugly, sharp laughter of mockery at worst. Learn how to defend yourself was the message to be had. It wasn't until he knocked another kid down after their claws came too close to plucking up his dinner that Felix gained a taste for having his own food that no one could take from him.


    Months and months later, there he was. An orange haze fell from the sky above, the smoky haze through East Sundran dense and dark. It almost looked like there ought to be a chill in the air; naive to the smell, the smoke looked like the kind of mist that rolled in after a frosty autumn rain. But everything still smelled of campfires and treerot, painful where it swirled in the lungs and seeped through the eyes, and it carried a sticky humidity which seemed to slow everything into a lethargic sludge. Hunger clawed at his stomach. Food already was scarce, though thankfully not dismal — between the alligators, the deer, and the odd forest creature offered by allies, there was enough to fill the bellies of the young and wounded, and then some for the rest of them. Felix ate just enough to keep himself upright and nothing more. Soon, though, they'd have to send out another hunting patrol.


    Owlish gaze and pinpricks of teeth snarling at intruders turned to frigid stares and permafrost fangs, Felix was a mirror of the child he'd once been. Tumultuous thoughts kept him awake at night, their baggage scoring shadows under his eyes — conflict over his actions, his reactions, the fighting that it wrought. Anger from the Thunderlands grew more intense each day, and as they crept closer and closer to enemies, their presence was seen more at the border than they ever were as allies. It wasn't right. None of it was right. But at the end of the day, there were still hungry mouths to feed, regardless of the political strife which so many distracted themselves with. Even regardless of his own anger toward their self-righteousness, believing that compromise was possible even when Felix heard himself that it was never an option to begin with.


    Almost feeling as though steam was billowing from his burning skin, Felix drew in a deep breath. Focus. He looked out his clanmates, tired and weary and hungry, and tried putting his best foot forward. "No newcomers this week..." To be expected, given the state of things. "Of course, always remember to be welcoming to those that do come to the border." A good reminder to give, but Felix was confident that his clanmates kept that in mind anyway.


    The lynx-cat pressed his paws to the tree root he stood upon, whiskers twitching. His voice was tired and his eyes were tired and he was tired. But there was still a spark in his chest; a clearness to his announcements as he spoke them, a glimmer to his eye as he looked toward his clanmates. There was still good among the bad. He could focus on that. Shove aside the conflict rattling around his skull and distract himself through the days. "Good job on activity this week, everyone. If you're looking for something to do, Tim is hosting a night watch, Arya has a cleanup patrol, Drift is painting, and Luci is sorting rations." Felix said, kneading his claws into the bark absentmindedly. "Also, the Coven has a Solar Dance to celebrate the changing of seasons, and we were also invited to the Sanctuary's Harvest Ball. Don't feel like the climate around here should prevent you from relaxing — if any of you would like, I encourage you to attend some ally events." He knew that it was difficult, though. When hunger loomed a smiling demon along the smoky remains of their jungle, it wasn't easy to traipse around somewhere else and pretend all was well. But Felix knew, he believed more than anything, they would make it through. He was determined to see it happen.



    YOUR HEART LONGS TO REMEMBER

    WHAT YOUR MIND CAN NEVER FORGET

    volary flights | emperor | tags in bookmarks | penned by bellus

    The post was edited 3 times, last by felix m. ().

  • Another week, another meeting. Tim was over as quickly as he could, which admittedly wasn't very quickly; his leap of faith had left him with a few bruised ribs, and so movement was slow going - especially considering he was still hungry to the point of slight madness. The announcements thus far were simple and not upsetting, and he eased into a seat with an inaudible huff of relief, his green eyes settling on Felix with a mixture of fondness and sorrow. In silence, the tabby awaited further announcements, curling his dark-tipped tail around his body.

    don't tell me that we've grown for having loved a little while

  • Arya approaches beside Tim, tilting her head to watch Felix. It was times like this where she mused about how interesting he was as an Emperor. He carried the rank well, or at least she believed he did. Her long tail comes to curl around her paws as her pale red eyes stray to the darker parts of the forest, mind slowly wandering as he conducted the meeting. She never did do well with paying attention to meetings, and even with her best friend up there it seemed to make no difference.



    arya_pixel.png



    i am not a vessel for your good intent,

    i will only break your pretty things,

    i will only wring you dry of everything

    Tormenta-Million Volary Flights Vice-Empress always ic opinions

    [ tags are bookmarked ]

  • This week has sapped almost every last bit of Takyon's energy and the boy is glad for it to finally come to a close. But even still, the child knows that it has taken a toll on others too and that incoming weeks wouldn't return to any sense of "normality" for some time now. At least the weekly meeting gave the group a break - they were certainly due for one.


    The broody Takyon lingers around the hind of the gathered Volarians, apathetic gaze turned towards the Emperor and making note of any information he had to give.


    RUN, BOY, RUN! THIS RACE IS A PROPHECY

    RUN, BOY, RUN! BREAK OUT FROM SOCIETY ━━


  • There was a lot on his mind, needless to say. The tabby stood, wavering on the threshold of two mindsets, feeling like he was balancing by his claws on a thin, silver thread threatening to snap — it was important to focus on the mundane, to develop a sense of normalcy among a chaotic world, yet his heart was hammering in his chest and his tongue still tasted blood. He was fraying at the seams keeping up with it all; the cleanups and the scavenging and the hunting and the fighting. A part of him was suited for the simple acts of cleaning rubble from ruins, cultivating strength from the ash spread over verdant grasses, hope for oncoming rain to soothe the inferno's lingering heat searing from the soil. The rest of him was far less graceful. He was comprised of oceans and storms, all bundled up in glass bones, paper-thin skin, a breakable heart. A tempest bursting at the seams. And the fury from the jungle's neighbors did nothing to quell the windstorm whipping through his chest. Especially when he looked at his clanmates, Tim and Arya and Takyon and everyone else, and saw something worth fighting for. Worth living for. He didn't care about land or promises — he cared about their lives. And after all was said and done, no matter what transpired in the past, they needed to eat.


    Felix drew in a breath, bitter and smoky in his throat, and pushed past the ugly beast stirring along the base of his skull. "No demotions this week — you're all doing well, and I thank you for that, but I'd like to see a bit more from Sauv and Cin," the lynx-cat said. "Anima has applied for the Sparrowhawk position through the HP tryouts. As a trial run this week, I'd like you to step up as Condor. Shoutouts to Cody, Icilia, Luci, Tim, Grand, Arya, and Tak." That was good news, at least. Its warmth managed to bleed through the iciness of his conflicted heart, and guilt wormed its way alongside it. He was always so focused on the tragedies falling upon them; the pain and the strife. A near obsession of knife-sharp intuition and practiced dedication, remnants from a time where bloodshed made the world go round. Felix was a fantastic hypocrite. He so often chastised others for singlemindedness while falling victim to its cruelty most often. He paused visibly, frown deepening on a scarred maw. Anger always seemed to find him again anyway. "For titles... Congratulations to Tim. Not only did he complete his leap of faith and will receive the Albatross title, but he's also the first to complete the Falconer tier of the avian studies. Your dedication is incredibly impressive." Though on the backburner of his thoughts, Felix knew very well of Tim's accomplishments. A strange joy surged through his chest, softened the cold stare of slate blue eyes as they found the tom through the crowd. The haze through the air seemed a little less acrid, a bit easier to breathe, at least for a moment. "And, uh," he started, realizing he'd been quiet for a moment too long. "The Fledgling title goes to Anima. I'd also like to give the Okinawa title to Takyon and Icilia. Great job."


    But as the simple announcements slipped past his teeth, dreariness settled back on Felix's shoulders; two steps forward, one step back. Everyone was expected updates on the border conflict. They expected guidance and leadership through the fray of uncertainty. They needed food to fill their bellies. Memories drifted before his eyes, pooled along his jaw as it grit close, gnashing thoughtlessly. That of Thunderlander ignorance, the unduly superiority they seemed to carry for having not been burned. They shielded themselves with flimsy excuses all while never having raised a paw to help stop the flame eating away their forest. Did any of them know (did any of them even care) how terrifying fighting a fire was? How painful the smoke bleeding through every pore, through they eyes and scumming up the walls of lungs; skin burning, searing, chipping away at the heat pouring from the blaze as if it were the surface of the sun itself. Felix was fucking frantic when he tore through the territory, hoping, praying that his family was alive. It took two days for the fire to finally be extinguished, all thanks to the Flights alone. And again they were suffering for it. Their neighbors wanted to play cat and mouse and all Felix wanted to do was live. He didn't give a shit about anything else except making sure the Flights thrived.


    So he steeled himself, feeling cold and hollow, previous warmth snuffed out like a candle's flame. It was as if he were hunkered in a dimly lit tent, the stench of dirt and iron filling his nose while solemn faces discussed what routes to take, chose which soldiers were doomed to die. He was made to be a warrior, after all. "The Thunderlands. I know we're all thinking it," Felix said lowly, feeling like a ghost in his own skin, a creature of the past. For a long moment he was silent, as if deep in thought. Were they expecting a rousing speech? The words of a leader directing them to battle, hopeful and promising? Felix sucked in a breath. "This isn't easy. None of this is easy. This fire has taken a lot from us and at the end of the day... we need resources. We're not going to let anyone push us around because they think they're justified — we're going to live through this. So that doesn't mean picking fights when they're not due. When we need to hunt? We do it together, whenever and wherever we need to. And no more bullshit at the border. If a Thunderlander comes around here again, get them out." The scars on his face twisted, harsh and ugly with his sneer. No more trading the ruins of their home for pitying scraps from some traitor with a holier-than-thou philosophy. No more chatting with kids that wandered over the border where they didn't belong. Obviously no children would be met with violence, but if he saw another smug face crying wolf about compromises— Felix's teeth grit, claws tearing through tree bark. "... Keep yourselves safe," his voice drifted over smoke and soot. "We've made it through everything else before, and we'll make it through this."


    He leaned back, a wavering tree amidst a midnight storm, resigned. "Meeting dismissed."


    YOUR HEART LONGS TO REMEMBER

    WHAT YOUR MIND CAN NEVER FORGET

    volary flights | emperor | tags in bookmarks | penned by bellus

  • It has been a while since she went to a meeting. To hear her own name called, even if she volunteered herself for a position to give herself some kind of purpose and some kind of direction to help, her ears flick back and she is still mildly surprised. A condor, more bird names. Makes her miss her own flock of irritating avian friends.


    "Thanks."

    a voice from the past screaming there is no end ! a slave to my fight, am i doomed to repeat this? again and again and again and again. now im falling too fast but the fall will not break me, a voice from past echoes on like a drum. now there's no more goodbyes and my heart is still aching, i'll open my eyes one more time

    VOLARY FLIGHTS CONDOR ★ ARCTIC FOX KITSUNE ★ BLIND ★ INFORMATION

  • LIGHT BRINGER ✧✧✧


    Luci listened in silence and with an unreadable expression upon his features. There was a lot to process, and a lot to worry about. Nobody ever said that life would be easy, but this was beyond a joke. The hybrid gave a low sigh whilst he nodded his head as he took in everything that was being said. As he sat there he felt a pang of hunger, so he decided to take his leave now that the meeting was finished anyway. He needed to think things over.



    ✧✧✧ MORNING DAWN

    7d91207dd45dd02f1716740c09fca8b5e91dccad.gifv

    "Luci"

    12 Moons - Basilsune (Basilisk/Kitsune Hybrid) - Cartel & Volary Flights - Male

  • Absalom had not attended a meeting in awhile. The three legged snow leopard silently hobbled over at Felix's call and took a seat to listen to the announcements. He had missed so much recently, mainly keeping to himself, so a lot of this was new. Absy simply soaked in the words spoken by the emperor and rose to his paws once they were all dismissed.

    the baffled king composing hallelujah

  • ★ ― bloodlust

    you tremble at this sound



    The woman would slip up next and sit at the back in a lame track post.


    speaking

    I WILL BREAK INTO YOUR THOUGHTS

    WITH WHAT'S WRITTEN ON MY HEART

    lust demon — tags — roleplayed by lavendera