Posts by fleecewing

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-align: ; font-family: times new roman; size: 6px; width: 500px; line-height: ](nothing like good old ed sheeran to * up the feels a little amiright)

She was slowly starving herself to death. If her body was anything like a normal cat's then perhaps she would have stood a chance at death. But of course, there was a reason that her mother had never died even though she had tried several times. Her body, to put it bluntly, would never die. Well- no. It wasn't as simple as that. She simply had such an excess of powers that it was nearly impossible without physically ripping apart her soul, and if we know anything, it's that doing anything to soul using physical force is practically impossible. And as such, her mind was unwilling to die. The closer that she got to starvation, the more fat she lost, the less strength in her bones as her body literally ate itself alive seeking sustenance- the more the demon inside of her that made her this monster rose up. She no longer had control.

Thud. The sound of her heartbeat could be heard in her eyes. With each thud bright light flashed in her eyes. She looked rabid as she tore through the grass with her claws desperately gripping the earth, her body hunched in on itself like she wanted to stop as her legs moved without her permission. She had no control over her own body, the only semblance of her existence being the look in her eyes of raw fear. She could smell it. She could smell the dying cat from miles away, and she moved ten times as fast as the normal cat could, ripping through the air until she was hovering over its bleeding body with its glassy eyes. It was too easy to tell what was killing her- there were children. Stillborns, three of them, cold and limp. Dead. And now the mother would die too.

It was a *ing buffet.

Fleecewing was powerless. As her teeth ripped through the flesh of the feline before her she cried silently- it was all that she had to do over the demon inside of her that stuffed itself until it could eat no more, ripping the corpse apart- it had not been a corpse when she started by undoubtedly it was dead now. Fleecewing could only watch in horror as the meat was ripped from the bones and trails of blood pooled around her paws. When she finally finished she ate the still borns like they were a side dish. But even then, the monster was not done. It had taken control. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she whipped her head around, eyes blackening and searching for more prey.

STOP!

Just like that her body went stiff before she suddenly collapsed. That was all it took for the cannibal inside of her to die out. After all, it had been fed, right? And no matter how hard she tried she couldn't vomit up the flesh, and even though she ran to the river and splashed and scrubbed at her face she could not get the offensive blood from her jaws, it stained her creamy maw pink. She stared at her reflection, with these eyes that were wide and horrified. Her mother had stared at her with these same predator's eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled her paws over her face, coughing and sobbing into them as she just laid there like the helpless creature she was.

[i]A monster.

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[fancypost borderwidth=0; background:url(http://i.imgur.com/UoVZbtl.png); height:100px;width:100px; background-size:cover; padding:0px;float:left;border: 10px #333 solid;border-bottom:0px;][/fancypost]
[fancypost bgcolor=;borderwidth=0px;min-height:200px;width:435px;text-align:justify;border:none;font-size:10px;font-family:verdana;line-height:97%;margin-top:10px;color:#ccc;padding:0px;padding-bottom:10px;]Oh god. They had seen her. They had found her like this: deadly, disgusting, monstrous. The femme was hardly able to even lift her eyes from his distorted reflection in the water as she heard Vexillology behind her, her body shaking uncontrollably. Despite the crazed look in her eyes, the hunger was gone. She wanted to retch, to get the disgusting flesh out of her body, but it was a pointless feat. It would only cause more death and she was sickened enough by it. She couldn't even reply to him or even Victorykit as the young bodyguard appeared as well, if anything falling even more quiet as she gritted her teeth.

Don't look... don't look at me.... She wanted them to turn their heads, to leave her alone, to walk away so that they wouldn't see the mess she had made, wouldn't see the blood staining her face or the way she seemed to be so completely broken now. In a perfect world perhaps her Clanmates would be oblivious. But that was simply too much to ask for, and when she heard the feline stumble over behind her and try to shield Victorykit from her, the former medic flinched and gritted her teeth. Stay away from that monster! Can't you see what she's done?! As much as the words dug into her stomach she knew that the stranger was right. She disgusting... filthy. A retched monster. She deserved the hateful looks and the disgust and the fear. He's stared hopeless at the water not having the energy left to deny her words. However when Duskpaw approached she felt everything crumble.

He knew. He saw. One of her close friends now realized exactly what she was. What if...? What if Sabbath came? Or Sam? Or Felix? Disgust curled tendrils around her stomach as she sank her claws into the ground. They would hate her, just like she had hated her mother when she caught her devouring the scum criminal one the night in the rain. Even though her mother had saved her from herself she was still capable of loathing her. I never asked for this! She gritted her teeth painfully and then flinched once more in surprise as Duskpaw spoke. "Fleece is not a monster." For some reason those words were what finally drove her to collapse and she managed to tear her gaze away from the river where her eyes seemed to be drowning in glassy tears that humiliated and infuriated her. She forced herself to look at them, at Duskpaw and Dewclaw who shielded Victorykit where Vex hid behind her. Self-loathing bubbled in the pit of her stomach as the cream tabby let out a low whine through her teeth, the only think she could do in this situation because she simply did not have the energy to do much else. It was obvious that the female was in shock based on her trembling figure and the u focused look in her eyes and the incapability to speak- she wanted nothing more than for the earth to swallow her whole. Instead she simply keened like an a abandoned child, her eyes wide and fearful.[/fancypost]
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[align=center][fancypost bgcolor=#333;border:3px #ccc solid; width:455px; min-height:275px;padding:0px;]
[fancypost bgcolor=#ccc;border:none; width:435px; height:20px;padding:0px;;color: #333;font-family:arial; letter-spacing:2px;line-height:20px;font-size:13px;margin-top:10px;]spare me your judgements and spare me your dreams[/fancypost]
[fancypost bgcolor=;border:none;width:435px;height:36px;color:#ccc;font-family:arial;font-size:18px;padding:0px;letter-spacing:-2px;line-height:35px;border-bottom:1px #ccc solid;]( 'CAUSE RECENTLY MINE HAVE BEEN TEARING MY SEAMS )[/fancypost]
[fancypost borderwidth=0; background:url(http://i.imgur.com/UoVZbtl.png); height:100px;width:100px; background-size:cover; padding:0px;float:left;border: 10px #333 solid;border-bottom:0px;][/fancypost]
[fancypost bgcolor=;borderwidth=0px;min-height:200px;width:435px;text-align:justify;border:none;font-size:10px;font-family:verdana;line-height:97%;margin-top:10px;color:#ccc;padding:0px;padding-bottom:10px;]It was crushing her. She felt as though the walls of existence were bearing down on her, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on her shoulders. It was painfully similar to the feeling she had received when she had fallen from the tree and the branch had come down and crushed her, the effect paralyzingly and numb. She wanted nothing more than to give in to the pressure, to let the monster overtake her. The shouting and the fighting flew over deaf pinned ears as the female lay pathetically shaking with no ability to do so much as lift her head as the shame and humiliation and disgust and anger literally weighed her down. She wanted so desperately to tell them to stop but every time she tried to move she was reminded of the hideous monster she was through Dewclaw's spat words and Duskpaw's angry retorts. Why? Why was he defending her when he could clearly see what she had done? Nobody deserves that kind of sympathy. Perhaps it was due to his vampirism but she knew she was worse than that, her hunger was one that caused her to blindly slaughter without discrimination. It was something that required her to rip through the flesh of her own kind when she was so used to simply healing it together after they were attacked by creatures like herself.

"S-S-Stop. Pl... Please." She was disgusting, the most filthy of creatures. She, of all things, did not deserve their pity, she had no right to tell them to stop and they had no means to listen to her and it was nothing but the plead of a man on death's row because she was headed nowhere good after that incident. She hardly seemed capable of lifting her own head as she stared at her reflection with the most haunted and broken of expressions, desperately digging her claws into the ground as he stomach writhed once again. The shock and fear and horror seemed to twist up in her gut and form a huge lump that she couldn't get rid of. Her ears were pinned flat to her skull and her body was still consumed by shaking as she squeezed her eyes shut but her bloody reflection remained imprinted on her closed lids. She wanted the earth to swallow her now. Already these people had seen her in such a state, what if Sam or Sabbath were to wander in on her now? No, no, she had to leave, she couldn't let them see what she was.[/fancypost]
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[fancypost borderwidth=0;font-size:7pt; text-align:justify; line-height:100%; width:400px;]One breath in. One breath out. The sound of hooves colliding against the ground in a perfect rhythm with his heart, sending a shudder through his bones with each step. It's amazing how the world seems to whip past him and yet he feels as if he walks through molasses at the same time. It is no longer just running, no longer just stretching his muscles as far as they'll go- it's a competition. Running neck and neck with the beasts beside him. The rider on his back is nothing more than another function of his brain, just a reminder to edge further from the fence or closer, to flank an opponent or to skid past their shoulder. It's nothing but sweat and dirt and flared nostrils. Eyes wide and foam dripping around the metal bit tied to his mouth.

The race has always been in his blood. It's been bred into him, it burns with every inhale. He came from a long line of racers, his parents had been some of the fastest horses on earth and he had a lot of money out into his name every time that he ran. "That silver seraph, he really was sent from the heavens, eh?" they'd say as they walked past him. His name was something of an enigma even to him: some believed it meant to emphasize he had the wings of an angel attached to his back that kept him going so fast. Others claimed that it was because he had been a gift from God. The critics were more convinced it meant he was a fallen angel, a curse to the other racers, that eventually he would be punished for his sins. Their theories usually brushed right over his head, but he remembered that day when he had been saddled up for what he didn't know would be the last time, his rider's words echoing in his head as the human reached up and whispered into his ear a simple sentence:

"We'll run to heaven's gates today, won't we, Seraph?" The way he'd said it had been so chilling that it made his blood run cold but by the time he was in the gates of the arena he had completely forgotten it, and the only thing on his mind was the race. The gun went off, the gates slammed open consecutively. Those who had their breast straining against the gate stumbled forward ungracefully, but Seraph had long since known not to do that. As always he streaked out of those gates like he indeed had the wings of an angel sewn into his shoulders that moved him forward with irrevocable speed and sent him soaring onto the dirt path, each slam of his hooves against the ground singing a cacophony of roars through the crowd. He could drown them out until he heard nothing but each passing exhale through his flared nostrils, letting the bit dig at his jowls as the cool metal heated with every breath. His leather lips pulled back to grin at the black monster of a horse he whipped past. Compared to most horses, Silver Seraph was lean and slender, yet it only made him faster.

So why was such a profound race horse standing here on Windclan's border? Perhaps the answer could be found in the long red whip lashes on his sides, flanks, and withers. The ones that smiled and glinted under the harsh sunlight like some kind of jeering trophy. Or perhaps the way his hind leg had a swollen indication of a fracture. Large and mocking, clearly the cause of all this damage. Their voices echoed in his head. 'The angel has been shot down, kid. He's lame." His owner had been kind and gentle, hardly older than fifteen. He had always spoiled him with snacks and treat and thinking of his kindness made Silverseraph shudder with sorrow. His father had been a monster, though. His father always yelled and lashed out at him, but the red marks that still bled although crusted over now were obvious indication that the man had finally snapped. All of his money- for nothing. Now his prized burden was absolutely worthless.

"Help." The plead was uttered in a low wheeze through his muzzle as he finally collapsed. His hind leg was, as they said, out of the question. A limping horse would not survive long, his other legs couldn't support him that long. They already ached as it was. He would die in this place and he had already long since accepted that. Labored breaths escaped through his foaming mouth as he let the weight of the past two nights finally crash down on him, his sleek and sweat-soaked form finally shuddering, the white hair soaked red and brown and black. Like this, he was hardly angelic.

(If you don't have time to read,must go to the last paragraph or two! His injuries consist of deep and shallow whip lashings from his shoulders to his tail and on his sides and a hairline fracture on his right hind leg that renders him mostly lame.)

[fancypost borderwidth=0;font-size:7pt; text-align:justify; line-height:100%; width:400px;]A medic is needed in this thread.
What are the injuries: Several whip lashings and a hairline fracture on his hind right leg.

[fancypost borderwidth=0;font-size:7pt; text-align:justify; line-height:100%; width:400px;](floats) so much muse for my pone

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; text-align: justify][size=8]& sub track

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; text-align: justify][size=8]YOOO finally have time to get things ready for this chica after hiking all day with the ma

anyone want a thread with nadie? she's a hardass and moody bitch but she loves kids with all her cold, dead heart

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Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Maecenas non libero venenatis, finibus diam eget, molestie purus. Donec accumsan diam malesuada eros porta, ut malesuada sapien varius. Fusce auctor cursus enim et feugiat. Donec maximus, metus ut dictum condimentum, sapien elit molestie orci, et imperdiet velit sem eu velit. Duis euismod, lacus sit amet ornare ultrices, lorem neque venenatis massa, a mattis mi ex a sem. Nulla blandit elit purus. Sed ultricies orci nec mattis maximus. Vestibulum at dignissim risus. Aenean nisl libero, consectetur id pellentesque fermentum, scelerisque quis dui. Mauris neque lectus, lacinia in aliquam posuere, blandit eu orci. Nunc faucibus fermentum tortor, sed venenatis dolor pretium ac. Nam vel facilisis nulla. Morbi id consectetur ex.

Nam rutrum lacinia nunc, varius consectetur est ullamcorper eget. Aliquam interdum condimentum quam eu convallis. Maecenas in nisi sed turpis vehicula scelerisque at tincidunt magna. Sed facilisis efficitur sapien eu porttitor. Curabitur id venenatis justo, et sollicitudin lacus. Nunc urna nisl, congue sed metus feugiat, accumsan sollicitudin tortor. Cras non nisl ut diam mattis placerat. Etiam scelerisque libero quis velit tristique, vel mollis dolor lacinia. Sed rhoncus suscipit enim, eget euismod nisi maximus eu. Praesent efficitur mattis est quis euismod. Suspendisse malesuada nisl a eros consequat laoreet vitae at risus. Ut faucibus egestas ornare. Sed vitae hendrerit mi.

Quisque vel ligula et nulla ultrices imperdiet. Morbi dictum malesuada sem non porttitor. Sed egestas elit odio, vel tempor massa viverra non. Duis feugiat augue nec purus mattis sollicitudin. Vestibulum id odio feugiat, consequat ligula et, iaculis justo. Proin malesuada placerat velit, ut tempus risus. Integer lacinia orci eu augue commodo, nec semper orci sodales. Donec augue ligula, suscipit nec fermentum nec, dignissim sed velit. Donec suscipit aliquet diam, id eleifend dolor lacinia sed.
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Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Maecenas non libero venenatis, finibus diam eget, molestie purus. Donec accumsan diam malesuada eros porta, ut malesuada sapien varius. Fusce auctor cursus enim et feugiat. Donec maximus, metus ut dictum condimentum, sapien elit molestie orci, et imperdiet velit sem eu velit. Duis euismod, lacus sit amet ornare ultrices, lorem neque venenatis massa, a mattis mi ex a sem. Nulla blandit elit purus. Sed ultricies orci nec mattis maximus. Vestibulum at dignissim risus. Aenean nisl libero, consectetur id pellentesque fermentum, scelerisque quis dui. Mauris neque lectus, lacinia in aliquam posuere, blandit eu orci. Nunc faucibus fermentum tortor, sed venenatis dolor pretium ac. Nam vel facilisis nulla. Morbi id consectetur ex.

Nam rutrum lacinia nunc, varius consectetur est ullamcorper eget. Aliquam interdum condimentum quam eu convallis. Maecenas in nisi sed turpis vehicula scelerisque at tincidunt magna. Sed facilisis efficitur sapien eu porttitor. Curabitur id venenatis justo, et sollicitudin lacus. Nunc urna nisl, congue sed metus feugiat, accumsan sollicitudin tortor. Cras non nisl ut diam mattis placerat. Etiam scelerisque libero quis velit tristique, vel mollis dolor lacinia. Sed rhoncus suscipit enim, eget euismod nisi maximus eu. Praesent efficitur mattis est quis euismod. Suspendisse malesuada nisl a eros consequat laoreet vitae at risus. Ut faucibus egestas ornare. Sed vitae hendrerit mi.

Quisque vel ligula et nulla ultrices imperdiet. Morbi dictum malesuada sem non porttitor. Sed egestas elit odio, vel tempor massa viverra non. Duis feugiat augue nec purus mattis sollicitudin. Vestibulum id odio feugiat, consequat ligula et, iaculis justo. Proin malesuada placerat velit, ut tempus risus. Integer lacinia orci eu augue commodo, nec semper orci sodales. Donec augue ligula, suscipit nec fermentum nec, dignissim sed velit. Donec suscipit aliquet diam, id eleifend dolor lacinia sed.
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[color=#13191B][size=6px][font=arial]● #icarustemplates ;; beware hidden scrolling ●
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[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; text-align: justify][size=8]One word that would best describe the panther as a first impression would be silent. The silence seemed radiate around her in waves, and just looking at her told you she was a woman of little words. Her molten gaze observed her surroundings with complete disinterest and yet absorbed it all completely as she strode from the abandoned building she had been in for the past few hours. Ripping underneath sleek black fur were muscles that seemed to radiate their strength, and her skin was littered with scars, especially newly healing injuries for every life she took. She also looked incredibly out of place and foreign with her neat appearance mingled with feathers and decorative paint and scars worn all over her body. A rippling black mane of fur around her throat held several bird feathers from prey and predatory avians alike, and her lips pulled back to expose yellowed and filed teeth that formed jagged points. If panther teeth could cut through skin without trying, hers glided through it like a stick through water.

When the panther finally stopped her fluid movements she simply stood near the creek running through their territory and stared at the water as if trying to find something. Yet her gaze lost its intensity and she simply dipped her head as if to drink, though her muzzle didn't even kiss the water. She stood like that for several seconds with her jaws barely parted before she suddenly moved forward with incredible speed. There was a faint splash of water and when she pulled back worming in her teeth was a large silver fish that thrashed violently. With a gnash of her powerful jaws it was crushed and she swallowed it in one bite, unfazed as she licked the blood from her sharp teeth nonchalantly and lifted her head to stare at the horizon thoughtfully. "Mochof," murmured the big cat in a rumbling voice, turning back towards their main housing area with a flick of her serpentine tail.

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; text-align: justify][size=8]She lifted her head as she heard a voice, the bisonpelt hood she wore slipping off in the action and exposing a rather nasty scar along the right side of her face, just barely missing her eye. She didn't bother to cover it up even though she felt as if the sun was scorching it out in the open, so vulnerable, but instead fixed her unsettlingly bright amber eyes on the smaller form of Spectre. It was often she was approached so bluntly, she tended to be avoided- so she was rather flattered that he even tried. As Octavia made her presence known as well followed by a shadowing Leonie who made no move to introduce herself, she felt a growing uneasiness as if she were being observed, but shook it off.

"Ai laik Nadyezhdya." Despite the fact that she was spoken to in English she still responded in the Trigedasleng tongue as if spoken to it as such. And yet it was not her native tongue, and neither was English- in fact, her first language happened to be Russian of all things. Much like Lonelyanthem she had grown to be interested in the language and once she came here she picked it up easily just by speaking to the natives, and it simply felt natural. It gave her a false sense of connection with them all. Her impassive gaze didn't waver as she reiterated herself, this time in English: "I am Nadyezhdya. Or, Nadya."

When Lonelyanthem approached her and spoke in the dialect unique to her culture, she couldn't stop the ghost of a smirk that fidgeted on her mouth as if it were hesitant to be there in the first place. It was much nicer to be regarded in the Trigedasleng language if not only to better acquaint herself with it... when she was spoken to in English she often had to ask them to repeat themselves and spoke in fragmented sentences with a thick, almost barbaric-sounding Russian accent where it was difficult to understand her anyways. Her Trigedasleng was not smooth either but rolled more easily off the tongue with more time speaking it. "Ai ask gon em kom wigodnes." She was certain she had gotten parts of that wrong but the crucial words were there: I ask them for forgiveness. She paused before a smirk once more threatened her muzzle as she added a common phrase that most speakers of the language ought to know: "Stedaunon don gon we. Kikon ste enti." The dead are gone, the living are hungry. She usually said that when she ate a meal as well.

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; text-align: justify][size=8]whispers do u guys know where i can watch the 100? i tried hulu but it only has like four episodes of season three hulu is so weird

also welcome to everyone omg!!

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; text-align: justify][size=8]weeps thank u!!! omg i cancelled my netflix subscription a month ago for hulu bc game of thrones :'^((( BUT THANK U!!! paddles off to watch forever

ALSOOO cations i feel u omg

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; text-align: justify][size=8]Her Clanmates certainly were odd creatures who indulged in old games. Coming from a place where games were rare even in children, and the only games she played as a child were war games, she had never heard of this "truth or dare." The deputy's amber flecked eyes scanned the group warily before she decided to simply linger back and watch from a distance, not wanting to disturb their game but also wanting to learn how it worked. It seemed it was solely for enjoyment which was an odd concept to her, she saw no benefit in playing it, but perhaps it was simply to kill time... she had never understood free time in her youth and even now she spent it ghosting around their currently claimed land and familiarizing herself with it, always wanting to keep busy. Settling back on her haunches, the hooded panther observed in a way that meant she would only see, not do.

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; text-align: justify][size=8]Nadya was a very observant woman, but she rarely spoke, and thus it wasn't a well known fact. She certainly was like a shadow in how she was always there but never truly made herself known. However she made it her goal to be acquainted with all things relating to her home, she knew this territory like the tattoos she had cut and inked across her own skin and yet they had only lived in it for a few days, and likewise she was just as acquainted with the people on a completely impersonal level. She existed but not in a sense where others seemed to recognize her. She just so happened to be passing by Octavia's room when a very unfamiliar smell bathed her senses and the deputy was immediately set into a mode of alertness as earring-donning ears flattened against her skull and she paused outside before easing into the tigress's room as silent as a mouse, tasting the air and gazing at the unfamiliar figure residing in her bed with amber eyes that glowed lethally in the low light of the room. "Vstavay," she ordered in a low rumble, her thick Russian command followed by a slight frown. It was an order to wake up, and while she didn't translate it she figured her low rumble was enough to awaken her, or at least her following words would. "Who are you." She never spoke in a manner than lifted to accommodate questions, thus everything she said sounded of a statement and never a query.

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; text-align: justify][size=8]Nadya was all too familiar with the desire to forget the shadows that spread over her past in a thick miasma- she had been a child of war, she along with her siblings and friends had been cast off at a young age to train for battle and were treated like soldiers when they could barely talk. She had become a commander of her own army at the age of four months and never had she been so frightened as she was when she stood over a crowd of legions awaiting her calls,more lying on her to protect the,name ensure victory when she didn't even know the alphabet. There were memories clouded in her history that she wanted nothing more than to forget and that was what led her here.

Atlasclouds and her were one in the same in the category of being wanderers, and she would likely find that the Brotherhood accommodated those desires to a point: no permanent residency was ever founded in this place. They had two months, just enough time for them to familiarize themselves with the deeper aspects of their supposed home, before their paws took the road once more as a group and they'd find new home, with new surroundings, a new existence. And Nadyezhdya could not be more grateful. For staying in one place always succeeded in making her incredibly uncomfortable, as if, if she grew too idle, she would be hunted down by a ghost from her past and be forced to deal with the horrifying consequences. The Brotherhood was the deputy's escape, and she was little more than a coward.

Her supposed Clanmates were all a sight to see in themselves and Nadyezhdya, in spite of her lavish decorations, was easily shadowed by them all. She lingered at the flank of Wolfsbane as if masking herself in the leader's presence, her facial features disguised by the pelt of a grizzly bear that strapped around her chest with a few feathers of a hawk and hooded her head and earring-donning ears, and in the faint light that dared to enter the mask of the hood you could barely make out the whisper of a scar dancing along her jaw that was otherwise hidden in the shadow it offered. The deputy drew her pink tongue across ragged, purposefully filed teeth that were like razors embedded in her mouth as she regarded Atlasclouds with an indifferent pair of Amber eyes hidden in the hood, and the only word that left her mouth was a low utterance: "Dobro požalovat'." A welcome.

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; text-align: justify][size=8]oh my god i'm sick too its my lovely girlfriends fault B^))) oddly it gives me muse but gdi today is the day to be a sick

ALSO welcome avenoir!!! im mainour ;^)

(wheezes as i can't keep up with my own muse for nadya)

i would volunteer but im in the same boat friend :^(

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; text-align: justify][size=8]Octavia. It was odd to hear the lioness' name coming from a tiger's mouth, but realization clicked in her eyes as she put two and two together. The existence of powers had always been... not overwhelming in any sense, but certainly difficult to adjust to only if because it went against everything she had been told. It put a different aspect on the entire thought of dying- she had seen people have their heads separated from their bodies appear seconds later and kick the rolling head of their old self away as if it were a ball for amusement. It was frightening when, where she had lived, somebody died and they would only live on in the memories of their loved ones if they even had any. The panther drew her tongue across the flat surface of her sharp, filed incisors before nodding imperceptibly. "You are surprised," she noted in her thick foreign accent as she tilted her head, eyeing the reactions of the now-tigress curiously. "Is this not the first time." Once again with her deadpan tone that was rather unnerving, although her eyes asked plenty of questions.

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; text-align: justify][size=8]we're spreading disease through catsite ;^) LMAO but omg yes they totally could, nadya speaks so little but she says a lot with her actions and she could end up shadowing him around everywhere xD she's so antisocial but she would find his "grumpy" attitude pretty funny they need a thread :0

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px; text-align: justify][size=8]Nadya admired her bravery. When she had stumbled upon the Brotherhood a while ago she had been defenseless, scared, alone- completely opposite of the steely individual that she was now. Donned in her grizzly-pelt hood, multiple piercings, self-inflicted tattoos and filed, sharp teeth she looked nothing short of intimidating and terrifying. Not the mention she rarely spoke but in blunt, accent-heavy choppy sentences. She had said more words in languages other than English than English itself during her time here but you couldn't blame her, she was still so used to speaking in Russian and had only really known Trigedasleng after she joined, so those two she knew the best. The shadow-like deputy lingered near the leader yet again, seemingly keen on following him around like a bodyguard as she tilted her chin and overshadowed the light scar along her left jaw. "Zdravstvujte... I am Nadyezhdya, or Nadya."