a common tongue | joining

[shadow=black,left]THE QUIET ONE[/shadow]

condemnant quo non intellegunt

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The desert seems endless. It's a wide expanse of nothing, nothing, and even more nothing, until there's something—and then nothing again?

In the distance, a reddish smudge appears, but it disappears in a blink, only to show up again. Every time it fades from view, it leaves behind a shower of sand and ashes dancing in the wind, the only indication that anything had been there. A beat or two passes, and the figure reappears again, closer to the edge of the jungle. It continues for some time, the figure growing larger with each corporeal burst until, abruptly, it stops.

Q lets out a disgruntled sound as she peers at the sand beneath her paws; it's hot, sweltering, and it would have burnt her pads if they hadn't already been thick and calloused. Still, the sensation is uncomfortable, and she forces herself to teleport again, pushing further and further into the territory until she reappears under the shade of a tree. The ground is significantly cooler under its canopy, and Q takes the time to stop and gather her bearings.

She peers at the change of scenery, noting the ecclectic mix of green and charred black. It had been burnt before. The maned wolf glowers at that, unconsciously shifting the weight off of her scarred leg and giving the old burn a quick, agitated nip, right at the edge of her bandages. She wonders if it's a good idea to go to a place that has seen the horrors an untamed fire can bring, but she decides that it's far too late to change her mind. She's come this far, she'll be damned if she lets some dead trees chase her out.

Q's jaws open in a yawn; she hopes the territory's residents will find her soon and lead her to wherever they stay. In the meantime, she decides to sit down and wait, resting her weary limbs, staring quietly into the half-razed jungle with a blank expression on her face. She stays so impossibly still she might as well be a statue.

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5 YEARS

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PITTIAN

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THE PITT

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SHE/HER

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© AUDACITY

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[spoiler=A SWEET SHOT OF KEROSENE]

BASIC.
• тихий | only answers to q | no surnames
• five years old | she/her | bisexual
• the pitt | the quiet one | rarely speaks, often hums
• avatar © olieart

PERSONALITY.
• observant, quiet, sincere, caring, protective, respectful, curious
• ruthless, efficient, relentless, cruel and violent towards non-allies
• likes: music, humming, birds, butterflies, moths, feathers, water, the rain, the sea, weapons, certain textures
• dislikes: dehydration, her burn mark, wildfires, chemicals, too many questions, not knowing what to do

APPEARANCE.
• a thin maned wolf with hazel eyes and wicked claws
• wears a worn-down dogtag with only the letter "q" left distinguishable
• left hindleg is furless and burnt, never without bandages
• always carries an old walkman and an array of cassettes

INTERACTIONS.
• physically difficult | mentally moderate
• hard to provoke but likewise hard to calm
• a distinct, black butterfly-like pattern appears around her eyes when her powers are used
• non-violent actions are allowed with varying results
• attack in #707276 | always tag subaccount

POWERS.
• aesthetic elementals
• air elementals
• conjuration
• enhanced senses
• intangibility
• invisibility
• jump boost
• mental manipulation & communciation
• teleportation

[/spoiler]

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The Ardent was sometimes drawn to wander here in the charred hide of what had been part of their territory, simply drinking in that still lingering and now permenant ashen taste the air in this particular part of the Pitt had.

Here it was enemies had thought to lay low what had been the Pitt of old

Which, if one were to ask him, was futile,

Even if they succeeded in wiping out the Pitt - the inevitability of it was that their would simply be another group to rise up in the power vacuum left behind, for it was a universal constant - where there was an order imposed, a chaos would disrupt it,

Stagnation didn’t benefit anyone after all

So really, while a grand show to them no doubt - it was futility.

Multiple limbs sank and trekked along the charred hide of teh slumbering beast that was the Pitt's world - feeling the black sands and brunt forest areas shift under his grip when a new scent caught his ‘nose’

The Eyeless visage swung around and he began his trek towards a still form slowly coming into view, the ardent stopping just shy of running over them and leaning over them - twin jaws grinding across each other before they opened to talk.

”and here I find a new face - have you come here to join us stranger?” it seemed reasonable enough - no one else wandered into their lands if they weren’t looking to join - or die, either way.

[shadow=black,left]THE QUIET ONE[/shadow]

condemnant quo non intellegunt

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For a brief moment, there is nothing but silence—simple, somber, silence. Q revels in the serenity that it brings, fur relaxing, and then it bristles again at the sound of heavy footsteps. The ground resonates with the weight, and the maned wolf partially braces herself for what will appear before her next. She expects a bear, perhaps an elephant, or one of this annoying big cats that like to pretend that they own the place.

Instead, she finds a creature so odd and yet so interesting that Q can only describe it in so many words: otherworldly. She watches in quiet awe as its outer jaws part to allow its inner set of mouthes to speak; truly, it's a creature she has never seen before, and it feels like a blessing to witness now.

She dips her head low in greeting towards the much larger fiend, offering no words but believing her gestures to be enough. Indeed, she would like to join their ranks, that much is easy enough to ascertain, but just in case it isn't clear, the maned wolf raises a paw and turns the dogtag she wears, flashing the other side towards the creature (although she wonders if they are capable of seeing, given their lack of eyes).

On the tags, only the letter Q is left readable; the rest of the whatever word they may have possessed has been worn down by time. Q is all that she's ever known, either, so the missing letters is no loss to her. She does not grieve over what she has never known. She does not mourn what she is not. She simply is, and she aims to continue being such for as long as the world would allow her. Besides, she believes she deserves to simply be, after all that she's been through before.

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5 YEARS

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PITTIAN

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THE PITT

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SHE/HER

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© AUDACITY

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[spoiler=A SWEET SHOT OF KEROSENE]

BASIC.
• тихий | only answers to q | no surnames
• five years old | she/her | bisexual
• the pitt | the quiet one | rarely speaks, often hums
• avatar © olieart

PERSONALITY.
• observant, quiet, sincere, caring, protective, respectful, curious
• ruthless, efficient, relentless, cruel and violent towards non-allies
• likes: music, humming, birds, butterflies, moths, feathers, water, the rain, the sea, weapons, certain textures
• dislikes: dehydration, her burn mark, wildfires, chemicals, too many questions, not knowing what to do

APPEARANCE.
• a thin maned wolf with hazel eyes and wicked claws
• wears a worn-down dogtag with only the letter "q" left distinguishable
• left hindleg is furless and burnt, never without bandages
• always carries an old walkman and an array of cassettes

INTERACTIONS.
• physically difficult | mentally moderate
• hard to provoke but likewise hard to calm
• a distinct, black butterfly-like pattern appears around her eyes when her powers are used
• non-violent actions are allowed with varying results
• attack in #707276 | always tag subaccount

POWERS.
• aesthetic elementals
• air elementals
• conjuration
• enhanced senses
• intangibility
• invisibility
• jump boost
• mental manipulation & communciation
• teleportation

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a joiner then indeed, good.

He’d hate to waste potential.

He watches her mute gestures and finds them easy enough to parse out - he’s long lived enough and long consumed enough to know broad terms and gestures, even some intricate ones, the minds he holds tell him so.

And indeed he sees though it rather looks like he cannot, or should not - but then he is a creature of many unreal and abhorrent creation.

Q, hm.

”Q, for quiet even” he muses for she is at that - a breath of fresh air where so many in the Pitt do enjoy to converse, he believes this one is fine with gestures or not, a more direct manner perhaps, appreciable - he inclines his head, great double mawed mouth singing around to direct his ‘gaze’ towards the unburnt territory

”if you are to join us then come, there is a rite of passage for all new - but I have no doubt you will pass” any brazen enough to make their way here do, for they come for a reason if they know it or not usually.

He moves to usher onwards with one grotesque limb - tuning to lead the way in to the dark heart beating in this desert land.

[shadow=black,left]THE QUIET ONE[/shadow]

condemnant quo non intellegunt

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Q, for Quiet even.

The way the creature had said the word sounds more like an identity than a simple adjective. Q ponders it for a moment, looking thoughtful before allowing a light sheen of gratefulness to seep through the twisting hazel of her eyes. She nods to accept 'Quiet' before allowing it to fall muted once more, listening closely to what the great being has to offer.

She has been dubbed as Quiet, and so Quiet she shall be.

He speaks of a rite of passage, and Quiet dips her head again in acknowledgement. Whatever this ceremony may be, it should be easy enough to handle—she's been through enough to have a wide arsenal of skills and she has no qualms in using them.

A fascinating limb motions for her to continue deeper into the territory, and Quiet makes another approving nod before allowing the energy writhing in her gut to expand. The fur around her eyes wither to a deep black, nulling the color of her pupils, and without a sound the maned wolf disappears in a flurry of dust and ashes.

She reappears less than a heartbeat later, landing gracefully on a high branch further in the territory but not too far that she loses sight of the eldritch fiend that has allowed her to join. Quiet raises her head and peers over her shoulder, blinking inquisitively at Silent, silently asking him to lead the way.

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5 YEARS

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PITTIAN

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THE PITT

[/td][td]

SHE/HER

[/td][td]

© AUDACITY

[/td][/tr][/table]

[spoiler=A SWEET SHOT OF KEROSENE]

BASIC.
• тихий | answers to q or quiet | named by silent
• five years old | she/her | bisexual
• the pitt | the quiet one | rarely speaks, often hums
• avatar © olieart

PERSONALITY.
• observant, quiet, sincere, caring, protective, respectful, curious
• ruthless, efficient, relentless, cruel and violent towards non-allies
• likes: music, humming, birds, butterflies, moths, feathers, water, the rain, the sea, weapons, certain textures
• dislikes: dehydration, her burn mark, wildfires, chemicals, too many questions, not knowing what to do

APPEARANCE.
• a thin maned wolf with hazel eyes and wicked claws
• wears a worn-down dogtag with only the letter "q" left distinguishable
• left hindleg is furless and burnt, never without bandages
• always carries an old walkman and an array of cassettes

INTERACTIONS.
• physically difficult | mentally moderate
• hard to provoke but likewise hard to calm
• a distinct, black butterfly-like pattern appears around her eyes when her powers are used
• non-violent actions are allowed with varying results
• attack in #707276 | always tag subaccount

POWERS.
• aesthetic elementals
• air elementals
• conjuration
• enhanced senses
• intangibility
• invisibility
• jump boost
• mental manipulation & communciation
• teleportation

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ah, seems the designation was even welcome, well, let it not be said it isn’t apt.

Silent turns that massive shambling form of his towards the distant outlines of the temples seems just beyond the tops of the foliage that isn’t the charred and scarred forest they were in.

Of course then he notes quiet’s strange teleportation abilities and thinks,

Interesting

And useful,

His twin mouths grimace what might pass for a grin if it were not so gruesome upon his mass and he chuckles idly ”a useful ability” he compliments, for he is generous with them for his allies as is his way.

That being said he takes the inquisitive hint and leads on the way towards the temples.

”you’ll not the distant pyramids, those are the temples - the heart of this territory” a red, a black and a white in colour.

"a curious fellow you caught along our border" the placid tone of the kodkod reverberated under the current of a growl that was the ardent's own pitch of voice. quiet in his approach but the brilliant flash of white that were the mor's pelt was seen clearly through the underbrush. both curious and captiousness; a f;ash of interest in his eyes beyond the regular frigidness of his stare.

"quiet, was it? I'm known as jack" the introduction rolls out of his maw into the empty air, tasting the title bestowed upon their newest member, if the explanation form the ardent's maw is any say, the smallest of the gathering pacing towards the large hulking eldritch thing.

He had watched their direction towards the temple for moment's before he allowed himself to make an appearance, a light gust of cold air drifted, even in the face of such heat jack spoke up again. "if the whisper's are right, the founder of this place made the plaza- between the three temples as a center for trade amungst the clan." he added on, a slight tell of information that jack couldn't remember where he gleaned from; a whisper, or a tethering line from a text.