Posts by ? ?et.

[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; width: 440px; text-align: justify; height: auto; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 137%; margin-top: -5px;]Setekh was lying somewhere in the middle of camp, his paws pressed against his nose as he huffed; dear god, the smell of the camp was horrendously unbearable. He wanted to just pull his nose off and discard it. Groaning, the sha rolled around without much aim in said rolling, but apparently he pulled a muscle or something because soon he went into a coughing fit. It wasn't loud coughing or anything, nothing that mentioned sickness. It was like inhaling dust or something. But, unknown to him, it was sickness. And it was a very deadly and contagious one, too. Snuffling, the canine continued to roll around in his dirt and leaves pile with a yawn, not knowing that those who entered the Boneyard also carried this fast moving sickness. "Ahhh... Fuck, it stinks." he hissed to himself irritably, burying his nose in the dry leaves. "I hate this."

/ yo, there's gonna be a slow ascent to the second part of the clanwide plot, so if you want your charries to get sick, hang around the Boneyard or people who have been there already. they currently carry the disease with them. if you need any help with symptoms, go ahead and look at the ooc thread!

[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; width: 440px; text-align: justify; height: auto; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 137%; margin-top: -5px;]Setekh wasn't emotional when he got within ten feet of Noxious. He liked him, yeah, but it wasn't like they were intensely close or anything. The canine slunk forward with a flick of his forked tail, a cough rattling in his chest for a moment, and with a sniff, he used his bandaged paw to wipe at his nose briefly. He looked kind of tired, and he was once again distant, but he didn't mention it. There really wasn't a reason for his wondering mind; perhaps he was thinking about his self-harm earlier, or possibly how he treated Gordon. Maybe about how Radio was injured. Who knows. "Hey," he murmured, blinking and settling onto his haunches, tucking his left paw behind his right on instinct to hide his emotional mistakes, long ears twitching. "I'm Setekh, but you already knew that. I like cornflower or baby blue and I'm getting married to Radio in late June..." Or, that's what they were planning. The lightest of smiles appeared on his maw, and he looked down at the ground, shifting on his haunches.

[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; width: 440px; text-align: justify; height: auto; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 137%; margin-top: -5px;]Honestly, Gordon was alright when she wasn't crying twenty-four seven. Set was angry with her, sure, but that reason was mostly because she hurt his fiancé. She had a punishment coming to her for that. Lifting his head, the canine's nose twitched, and he shook his head. "Yeah, I feel fine." he sighed with a shrug, lying his head back down with his stick-like legs hovering in the air, his forked tail swishing across the ground. "It smells horrible around here, is all. I'm salty."

[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; width: 440px; text-align: justify; height: auto; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 137%; margin-top: -5px;]When Setekh's brother was missing, he didn't cry. Never in public did he show how much it hurt to have his brother gone, murdered by his own claws and teeth in such a disgustingly savage manner. No, the canine had never shown his pain to his clanmates. He was alright. He was happy. But back before Direpromise had been reincarnated, secretly he had cried himself to sleep every night, completely alone. He had never cried in public, only to himself. He didn't want to burden anyone with his feelings, after all; however, Gordon was the opposite. She was completely open, but was that really the smartest thing to be?

The canine shifted, rolling over onto his side, another cough stirring in his throat. It was soft and could easily be mistaken for clearing his throat, and he didn't address it, instead raising a metaphorical eyebrow at Gordon. "I'm not hurt or anything. I feel fine. The smell is killing me, though, and I want to rip off my nose. I wish the gas wasn't as bad." He sighed, clicking his teeth together. "I wish it'd go away already."

[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; width: 440px; text-align: justify; height: auto; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 137%; margin-top: -5px;]So many names called, lots of news, some sad and some good. He didn't know Merle in the slightest, but he supposed he'd go to his funeral. That would be the polite thing to do, after all. The news of Casanova's death tugged at his heart, and he mentally hoped he was able to rest in peace. The sha bowed his head, gaze settling onto his paws. "Congratulations and condolences to those promoted and demoted respectively. Noted to all other news, and may Casanova find his way."

[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; width: 440px; text-align: justify; height: auto; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 137%; margin-top: -5px;]There was an air of calmness around Setekh as he approached his son, the much taller sha standing over Whitepaw protectively, one long leg on either side of his smaller body as he stared down at Omorose. Something flickered in his gaze but disappeared just as quickly, and he nodded. "I did hurt him." he spoke flatly, snake-like pupils steadily trained onto the Sunclanner, and the end of his mouth twitched before he was thrown into a coughing fit, ducking his head until it was over. Again, he passed it off as nothing; rather, he thought of it as irritation in his lungs or something of that nature. No big deal. Straightening back up, the mercenary settled down onto his haunches, reaching forward to try to pull Whitepaw closer in a hug, his long tail aiming to curl around Candypaw in the meantime. It took a while for him to say anything after his initial confession, but he finally locked eyes with his youngest son again, his gaze steady. "Exilers are monsters. I don't want you to stay around him. He'll hurt you in some way or another, I know he will. They all do, sooner or later. They snap." A shiver went through his thin frame, stoic expression wavering slightly, and he looked down. "Omorose, if you get hurt, I don't know what I'll do. I'll fail as a parent. I'll hate myself for not being able to protect you. Do you understand me? I don't want you to go to... To a filthy Exiler for friendship. Please. What if I lose you? What if they attack you and I can't help?" His expression was twisting into something that looked paranoid, and he ignored the scratchy feeling in his throat, coughing under his breath a few more times with a sniffle. "I can't let that happen. I can't."

[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; width: 440px; text-align: justify; height: auto; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 137%; margin-top: -5px;]/ tw for mentions of rape

It wasn't his fault that his view on Exilers was one of hatred and distrust. His first encounter with an Exiler was Morality sinking his claws into his back, bashing his head in with a rock, insulting him, calling him worthless, then... Then raping him. He hadn't even been doing anything. All he wanted at the time was to sun himself on a rock, perhaps take a calming nap, but that... That disgusting tiger had jumped him, forced submission into his head, then proceeded to take his virginity. And it still hurt. Even months after the incident, it still burned in his mind, festering there, reminding him endlessly that he hadn't been strong enough to protect himself. Omorose was like him. Omorose was small, sweet, scared... That was how he used to be. That was what hurt him, and that was what might hurt his son.

As Whitepaw clung to him, he pressed a paw into the boy's back, nuzzling the place between his head and shoulder, rabbit-like ears twitching. "Hey, it's okay. Nothing is going to happen to you. You didn't do anything. It was me who hurt him the most." he sighed softly, blinking a little bit quicker to push back the tears that wanted to well up in his eyes, for he knew that those words would be coming up any second. "I hate you." "You're a horrible parent." "I never want to see you again." Thoughts of Omorose saying these things played over and over in his ears, and, taking in a shaky breath, his stoic front crumbled. He couldn't be strong. He wasn't strong. The words came, and though they weren't what he thought they would be, he was still visibly breaking down. His son hated him. He had to by now.

"I'm sorry, Omorose. I'm sorry." his voice wavered, his paws trembling, and he bit at his tongue, swiping his bandaged paw across his eyes miserably, trying really hard not to cry. This was his dream, to have kids. To raise a happy family. But he seemed to be failing. "They... Th-They did things... To me..." His ears drooped, his back hunching over, and he seemed to be using Whitepaw as something to keep his arms busy, for he was hugging his son tightly, his face buried into his fur. He was hiding his tears, most likely. Crying in front of three of his sons was rather pitiful, after all. "O-Omo, I don't want them to do that to you... I-I don't want you to end up like me..." His chest heaved, and he coughed under his breath again, his embrace around Whitepaw tightening slightly. "They tortured my mother in front of me... They killed my friends a-and... And they... T-Took advantage of me..." He wanted to throw up. "I don't want that to happen to you, Omorose! I don't want you to suffer!" He finally looked up wildly, his teary eyes wide, expression twisted and pained. What a pitiful sight, to see him like this. It was almost like he was reverting to what he was like when he was young.

Just a weak failure.

[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; width: 440px; text-align: justify; height: auto; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 137%; margin-top: -5px;]"Don't go down that path. Please, please, don't go down that path." Setekh spoke breathily, his ears flat as he listened to his son mention that he suffered every day. That was a horrible thing to hear, especially for a mother. "I tried to hang myself, Omorose. Back when my dad came back, I tried to die. Don't think I haven't noticed that... That scar around your neck..." His eyes fell to the burn wound around his son's neck, and his body began to shake, teeth gritting. He paused to cough harshly into his paw, staring at it for a moment. He ignored the blood dotting his pawpad and made no attempt to wipe it from the corner of his muzzle. "I have the same one. The same scar. I was just like you. But look, I'm alive. I'm okay. People love me, they care for me. And people love and care for you, too..." He took a few steps back, closing his eyes tightly against a forming migraine, and he felt rather dizzy, but he pushed on. "I-If you... If you want to be friends with Lewis, you can't visit him anymore. Only he can visit you. That's a good compromise, right?" He opened his eyes, then stumbled forward, trying to envelop his smallest son in a tight hug, his body shaking rather evidently as he buried his muzzle into his soft fur. "Right...?"

/ sorry for this shitty post. my three paragraph post was deleted and my muse died.

[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; width: 440px; text-align: justify; height: auto; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 137%; margin-top: -5px;]Radio seemed to be rather obsessed with his self-image. He seemed set on believing that he was strong, carrying around his pride and arrogance in his words. Setekh, however, was almost the exact opposite. His pride was lost long ago. The names he'd been called as a child he had accepted as fact. He was an idiot. He couldn't do anything right. He was ugly and weak and useless. Right? That's what his father had told him, and his mother, too, whenever she was in her drunken spells. The Egyptian bit his lip nervously, wondering if Radio perhaps didn't want to be so close to him, but he was comforted by the relax of the other male's shoulder under his touch, and while he felt the other teen observing him, his face flushed and he looked down at the floor, his trembling body stiffening slightly. He wasn't really used to attention.

Set was silent for a good few minutes, simply allowing Radio to look over him, and that's all he forced himself to interpret it as. He wasn't checking him out or thinking about what he could do to him when his guard was down. He wasn't. Right? He was about to second guess himself and pull away, but his attention was caught by the Russian teenager's voice, and he didn't attempt to look up. In the darkness, his face fell slightly, and he shook his head. "You aren't a burden. I'm not going to lie, I am scared of you, but you aren't a burden, and it's not for what you think." There was a moment of silence before he elaborated. "I-I mean... I'm scared of everyone after something happened that I don't want to talk about. Please don't take it personally. Y-You... You seem like a nice person." He swallowed thickly, and when Radio expressed his surprise in how cold he was, he had to suppress the urge to laugh through his intense longing to cry.

However, that thought was cut short as he felt a soft gliding touch from Radio's hand on his back, and his trembling stopped briefly to morph into one full-body shiver. A soft noise, almost protesting, made its way out of his throat, and his fingers tightened their hold onto Radio's jacket, his back arching slightly into the touch. But holy hell, when he realized what he was doing, he jerked away so suddenly it seemed as if he could have snapped his neck or something. Could he have felt his scars? He looked almost a little panicked, as well as obviously embarrassed with his noise. "H-Hey, don't— Don't touch my back. U-Uh here, here, just move your hand back a little bit..." He used one hand to move Radio's wrist up to rest on his shoulders, then pressed it hard into that area so it wouldn't brush against his scarred, sensitive skin, his fingernails nearly biting at the other male's skin as he forced a strained smile, though a blush of embarrassment was obviously flushing his face. You could even see it through the dark. Fun.

Shoving his face into Radio's shoulder so he wouldn't be able to see his terrible expression, the teenager listened as the other explained his dislike of storms, and Setekh nodded, letting out a muffled 'hmm' noise. After gathering courage, he pulled himself out of his hiding place, though he refused to make eye contact. "Isolated and alone... I understand. There's no need to feel embarrassed over that..." Set murmured, rubbing at his reddened face with a sleeve, glad his face wasn't burning as much any more. Finally, he turned his gaze to Radio, and he looked him straight in his green eyes, his own mismatched eyes plain to see now. They'd mostly been trained on other things the whole time Radio had been here, so he wouldn't be surprised if the gang guy would be interested in them now. A lot of people seemed to like his eyes, even if one was color blind. "It's, um... It's okay to have fears. A big amount like mine is unhealthy, but... But you're fine. Don't think storms scaring you makes you weak or something." If anything, he was weak. Not Radio. As the other boy's head leaned against his shoulder, he found his own eyes closing, and he yawned, shifting under the blanket. "Should we... Sleep? Maybe wait until morning and see if the rain is done?"

[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; width: 440px; text-align: justify; height: auto; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 137%; margin-top: -5px;]Setekh was struggling with what to think about Gardenpaw. The boy had treated him alright, said he was one of the only Shadowclanners he trusted, and yeah, Set had seen him as a friend. It hurt, though, to trust an Exiler. It wasn't in his nature. They were all the same to him; when he looked at the small, flowery grey feline, he instead saw a purple and white tiger, and that never changed for any Exiler. The canine slunk forward, his body moving rather sluggishly, as if he was weighed down, and he paused beside Sans to stare at his friend. Well, his friend until he decided to attack Radio, even after Set had helped him see his family. He looked completely disappointed, mismatched eyes shifting away, and his long ears flicked. "He's Radio's toy. Don't hurt him too badly without his permission." he muttered flatly, covering his muzzle with a paw to cough a few times before settling down onto his haunches, forked tail wrapping around his thin frame. He was rather disgusted to hear Sans saying such cruel words to a child, especially after said child was only bitter and aggressive after Sango had taken his vision without mercy, when he was fucking innocent. A growl stirred in his throat, and he looked down and away. Sometimes he really hated his own clan, and yet, he wanted the Exiles to suffer. God, this was difficult.

/ mobile

[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; width: 440px; text-align: justify; height: auto; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 137%; margin-top: -5px;]"The hell is he on about? Use people my ass. I'm no better than anyone else in this clan." Setekh huffed with a roll of his eyes, the tired sha padding forward and turning his mismatched gaze to the group. He offered them all a curt smile, for he was tired and perhaps a little grumpy, then settled down, muffling a cough or two with a paw. Mm, yeah, he needed to go to Radio for this shit. Sometimes he coughed so hard his throat bled. Swallowing down the coppery taste, he looked toward Bubble, his eyes narrowing briefly, then flicked an ear. "Well, I can't read human writing, but that sounds like an interesting concept. Weird, but interesting."

/ mobile

[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; width: 440px; text-align: justify; height: auto; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 137%; margin-top: -5px;]Setekh was the next to appear, the mercenary padding up beside his son, forked tail swinging back and forth behind him, and he made sure to avoid the silly string. Though his fur was short and it was easy to get off, that shit was cold and it felt weird. He didn't like that. "Hello," he murmured in his usual soft tone, his tail snaking over to wrap around Candy's shorter one, and he dipped his head respectfully toward the joiner. "My name is Setekh, or Set for short. I'm a mercenary here, so if you need help, I'll be happy to talk to you. Welcome to Shadowclan, and I hope you enjoy your stay."

/ mobile, rushed

[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; width: 440px; text-align: justify; height: auto; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 137%; margin-top: -5px;]Last he checked, he was not gross or childish; in fact, he was more mature than lots of the people here in Shadowclan. Mean, sure, but only rarely and when someone pushed his buttons. He had not been rude to Bubble in any sort, and seeing the bear flat out glaring at him, he furrowed invisible eyebrows and took a step backward, flattening his ears. "Well, looks like I'm hated here. I'll just go." he sighed, turning on his heel and padding away, his head lowered slightly. He wasn't even trying to be rude in any sort. He'd been trying to talk to Bubble to fix things, but it seemed that wouldn't be the case. Whatever.

[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; width: 440px; text-align: justify; height: auto; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 137%; margin-top: -5px;]Setekh stepped forward to join the others, nodding toward Twin in a silent greeting and settling down in a track post.

[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; width: 440px; text-align: justify; height: auto; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 137%; margin-top: -5px;]Gordon only stayed in Shadowclan for Billiam, correct? She was stuck to him like glue. Picking up the sound of Gordon crying once again, Set heaved himself to his paws and trotted in that direction, pausing beside the girl and looking off in the direction she was facing. "He left?" he guessed softly, his gaze never wavering from the direction he had gone. "I'm sorry." He didn't really understand why he'd just leave her like that.

/ mobile

[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; width: 440px; text-align: justify; height: auto; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 137%; margin-top: -5px;]/ I apologize for the wait! also ew mobile

Setekh was the first to meet the handsome demon. The canine had scented him from afar, and with a slow, sluggish way of pulling himself forward, the mercenary made his way toward the stranger. It took a few minutes, as he was tired, having lost sleep due to his coughing, which seemed to be getting worse. The frail Egyptian male give a soft nod toward Sesshomaru, feeling rather ugly in comparison to his more clean, intimidating appearance, and self-consciously, he looked toward his paws. "You're accepted. It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Setekh, or Set, if you prefer. I'm a mercenary here; if you need any help, you can come to me. I'll be glad to be of assistance." he spoke his usual greeting a little awkwardly, forked tail swishing across the ground briefly before curling around his thin haunches. "Welcome to Shadowclan."

[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; width: 440px; text-align: justify; height: auto; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 137%; margin-top: -5px;]"Relax. I'm not going to hurt you." Setekh spoke evenly, the sha creature appearing from out of the brush. His gaze was steady, slitted pupils settling onto the tabby, and he dipped his head in greeting. "You're on Shadowclan territory. I wanted to inform you before someone more threatening comes across you. I am not a threat, but I can't say otherwise for my clanmates." He paused, settling onto his haunches, and, staying a little ways away from the strange feline, he curled his forked tail around his paws. "I'd like to know your name and business here."

/ mobile! sorry I can't match your muse! ;v;

[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; width: 440px; text-align: justify; height: auto; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 137%; margin-top: -5px;]He wasn't sure why they were paying so much attention to his coughing; he'd assumed it was just a one time thing, like he had sucked in air wrong or something. But he merely shrugged, shaking his head in response to Noxioushazard. "Nah, I'll be alright. Don't worry," he spoke with a wave of his forked tail, the canine sitting up with a yawn and smiling toward Radio as he approached, his tail curling around the savannah cat's own in return, his chin resting on his fiancé's head. "Will do, honey. I'm sure I'll be fine, though." he murmured, then nodded in response to the thing about the disgusting smell. God, it sucked.

/ you can go ahead and have him slowly get sick like set's doing atm :>

[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; width: 440px; text-align: justify; height: auto; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 137%; margin-top: -5px;]/ track for later

[fancypost bgcolor=; border: 0px solid white; width: 440px; text-align: justify; height: auto; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 137%; margin-top: -5px;]Well, his sickness—yes, a sickness was what he'd finally admitted it was—was getting a little worse each day. Not too bad; nothing harmful or anything, no, no. But it was now bothersome, and that was enough of a development to see Radio and get some medicine or something. "Radiiii," the sha creature called in a vaguely nasally voice from the middle of camp, snuffling hard and sneezing soon after. Well, time to sleep in the guest room. He wasn't giving this shit to his fiancé. "Radiooo, it got worse." Hopefully he could fix it somehow.