welcome to your new hell, Welcome to the Menagerie. Or as we like to call it, Dome Sweet Dome! We are an eight-year strong futuristic shapeshifter and sci-fi creature roleplay, dedicated to bringing you a world unlike any other; a world in which your character has become an experiment and must fight for survival in a domed city, cut off from the rest of the world. Choose to be any animal in your fight for survival in an artificial world built by the Keepers as they subject you to experiments beyond your control. Choose to wander the world inside the walls alone, as a Rogue, or find safety in numbers in one of the groups known as Rings. How will you survive?
60 - 65 ºF
blustery with scattered showers spotty sunshine
YEAR 2309
shift bans.
» Cougars (aka Puma, Mountain Lion, Panther)
» All Tiger Species
» All Lion Species
» All Wolf Species
» African Leopards
group bans.
none.
encouraged !
FEMALE CHARACTERS! create a RETRO or ANTHRO and get 250 CP + a free skill! read me for more info!
last updated: april 19th, 2016
Click on each Ring or Retro group image to view their ranks!
GROUP UPDATES
CARNARING
Jocelyn Edelwolfe is the new Alpha! Seija Mulviene is the new Beta, and Grey is the new Delta. Lead Hunter is now Boone Haywood, Head of Border Patrol is now Noelle Ndango!
FALLENRING
-
FULSIRING
Fulsi has a standing treaty with the Nakoma, granting limited access to their fresh water.
NAKOMA TRIBE
-
ANALOYA PRIDE
a while back, the Analoya suffered a suspicious poisoning of their river, luckily with few casualties; the Bellator are suspected of having taken part in it, and there are whispers that Pride leader Wanderer is talking alliance with the Nilda for access to their clean water.
BELLATOR HERD
As new leader of the Bellator, Loril has instituted some rank changes. See this thread for more information!
LAWAII FLOCK
no updates!
NILDA PACK
no updates!
CARNARING QUICK STATS
ALPHA -- Jocelyn Edelwolfe, Clouded Leopard, played by IronChild
BETA -- Seija Mulviene, Spotted Hyena, played by Seija-chan
DELTA --Grey, Mackenzie Valley Wolf, played by Kriss
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There was one alcohol bottle sitting in the alcove of the palm tree, like some postal card advertising good times.
That couldn't have been farther than the truth. Slansky's fingers curled around the neck of the vodka (it was the only bottle he had taken from the speakeasy and stashed at his home, mostly for what he called "medicinal" purposes). It had started full, and was already past half-empty. Slansky Kirov was not drunk. He was on the verge of being completely shitfaced.
It helped. His mind couldn't grasp the memory for longer than a few seconds at the time, before it slid away. It was just bits and pieces that he recollected--guts, blood. Eyes like glass. He deserved it. No he didn't. Yes he did.
The mission had not gone well, and being that Akane was not due back until the next evening, he found his solace in the form of an old friend--alcohol. The Menagerie had forced him to quit his drinking habits. Not cold turkey, like one might have expected, but after a series of months in which acquiring alcohol became an increasingly difficult pastime. Now, though, was the exception.
His eyes, dull from drunkenness, turned to the oasis before him. He listened to the water lap at the banks, and grimaced for whatever reason. Ah, there was a reason. It was the second time he had killed in the past forty eight hours.
Everyone is just trying to make it out of this hellhole alive, he kept thinking. He didn't know if the Carna had been a bad man, or just another kid that got dealt an unlucky hand by fate. Either way, Slansky wished he could take it back--the entire conflict, on the Fallen-Carna border, which seemed to escalate daily. And I can't help it, I can't help it. I can't fix anything.
You're an honest-to-God f***-up, Kirov. He thought this with a semblance of blankness, dispassion. It was true. Why else would he be in this place? Why else would he find himself alone, constantly? Memories of the other night surfaced, made him bitter. ”I’d rather be a burden, than an unwanted and uncaring outcast." He couldn't remember it word-for-word. But he certainly remembered the gist.
Slansky took another swing of the bottle. He couldn't even feel the burn anymore.
It took him seconds to register the fact he was not alone, much longer than it would have normally. He turned his face to the left, his unshaven cheek scraped against the base of the palm tree. His vision blurred, and he had to force himself to focus. There was a fox, in the dark, looking at him with bright eyes. Approaching. Was he imagining it? He attempted to stand, bracing his arms--decided against it when he lost his balance and ended up back against the tree. What the Hell? "Akane?" His voice was clear enough. But that was just from years of practice.
Last Edit: Jun 21, 2013 1:00:24 GMT -5 by Slansky Kirov
By the time Akane had found Slan, she was half out of her mind with worry and panic. How hard was it to leave a note for crying out loud? She had heard everyone was back from the mission Slansky had gone on, but when she had reached the train car it had been empty. No Slan.
However, someone mentioned seeing him walk off somewhere, or rather grumbled an ‘I dunno, that direction’ with a terribly helpful and very general point of his finger south. She had never used her nose to find someone, but she figured hell why not? And struck out to find him.
It had taken her half the night, but eventually she had happened upon an oasis of sorts and from there she could smell him clearly. She had bound through the brush to find him propped against a palm tree and …
As she drew closer, the smell hit her nose sharply and she shifted in the lightning speed she did. Two feet away from him she stood, arms crossed and scowling at him. He was piss drunk!
”Yes, Akane. Bake ne! What are you doing out here?” she asked in a combination of incredulity and concern. What she wanted to say was, ‘why the hell weren’t you at home’ but she wasn’t his mother. Sure as shit not.
_____Translations Bake ne - an unharsh or fond way of saying "you idiot/you fool"
He was drinking because Akane was not supposed to be there. And there she was, not standing two feet in front of him, looking at him with an expression of... not-happy. Slansky blinked, and smiled slowly. He should have been annoyed, or curious. But right then, in his mind, it was as simple as this:
She wasn't supposed to be there. But she was there. And there was nothing he could do about that, right? Right. "Akane," he repeated her name, happily, in English. His accent was so thick that it hardly sounded right, though. "I am... drinking. I think. You want some?" He held out the bottle like a goad.
Why was Akane there? Maybe he should ask. Slansky started to, but then decided better of it. It didn't matter why. He was just happy that she was, to keep him company. And then he reminded himself why he was there. It was because he had done bad things, and that those bad things were a lot less bad when he was drinking, and that was why he as drunk. Or at least, Slan thought that sounded about right.
Maybe he just liked the taste of vodka. Hell if he knew, just then. He patted the sand beside him. "Sit, moy dorogoy." Was that an endearment? Shit. Before he could stay upset with that little slip, he was handing her the bottle.
Akane looked around, what for she didn’t know but without much thought she sighed, took the bottle and slid down next to Slan. Putting the bottle to her lips she took a swig, half choked and handed it back to him. She’d had alcohol before but that stuff was harsh.
”Slan, what the hell? Why are you drinking? God, the night from hell and you’re all the way out here,” her manner was shaming, but filled with a rattled tone. She had been scared, wanted to find Slan and now – he was drunk. She was half tempted to just leave him here, but she was not a stupid girl. There was a reason for the drinking.
”What happened on the mission?” she asked. Her hand lifted to his face but his head turned away and he lifted the bottle to his lips again. She scowled, hurt and irritated that he would pull away from her. She made an exasperated noise and crossed her arms.
Now that she was sitting next to him, Slan didn't know what he wanted or had intended to do. She was worried. Maybe irritated. From the way she was talking to him, he was beginning to think that it was both, and that he was well on his way to being in trouble. "To get drunk." It was pretty obvious, to him. That's why you drank.
It was a much simpler answer, too, than I want to forget. He was an angry person. It was easy to forget, sometimes. But he was. He was so goddamn angry, all the time. Or maybe he wasn't. Maybe drinking just made him think that--Slan didn't know. He felt more confused than angry; more bitter than wrathful. And that was why he drank--that was why, right there.
She reached to touch him. Bad idea. Slan thought that maybe if she did it, he wouldn't know what to do with himself. He took the drink, and then turned to look at her.
She was wearing his shirt. Why was she wearing his shirt? Why did she look so damn good in it, too? His jaw slackened a little, and then he forced himself to look away. That was why it was bad for her to touch him, he thought, and took another swing of the bottle. Oh, yeah. Mission.
"I killed someone." He said it like it was nothing. But, of course, when said like that... it was definitely something. Something important, too. The too-wide collar of his shirt had slipped down over her collarbone, and his eyes were on her skin. For whatever reason, he continued talking, even as a voice in the back of his repeated the mantra, stupid, stupid, stupid.
"Just a kid," Slan whispered, and there was a slur to his voice, now. "Just a kid... and... and he didn't want to die. I didn't mean to kill him. He came at me with a knife, and he looked as afraid as I felt--I took it from him. I was bigger, stronger, faster. I took it from him and I just tried to keep him still, just told him to stop fighting--" He broke off and swallowed. "... I just. I pressed to hard. With the knife. He bled out all over my hands. I tried to save him."
He was quiet for a few seconds. "I used to be a cop. I... I didn't mean to kill him." His voice broke.
For a moment, she thought he wasn’t going to tell her anything. I killed someone, he said remotely. She blinked and looked back to him slowly. A million different things rippled through her mind, and she did not miss his eyes on her as he told her what happened.
Akane said nothing for a long time. She had never killed anyone before, but she would if she had to. Still, it had been hard on Slan and it was news to her that he had been a cop in his prior life. Harsh words echoed in her mind, Do you think you're the only one who has felt like this, Akane? and she shook. She was not the type to be cruel, and hadn’t she already forgiven him for that? Yes, but it was still raw …
What could she say? Shit happens? I’m sorry? She sure as hell didn’t know how he felt … Her fingers took the bottle from his grasp and took another swallow from the bottle. It was easier this time, and settled her nerves a tad. She hadn’t seen Slan like this before, in fact she’d never seen him drink.
”Did him a favor probably,” she said impulsively. She didn’t know why she said it, and instantly she regretted saying it. She bit her lip and set her head back on the palm tree too hard causing a light noise, but she was not the type to take things back. ”Would have been you or something else,” who was she? How could she think something like that?
It’s just the truth, another part of herself claimed. The part that was hard and emotionless ... the part of her that she didn’t like.
He wasn't a kid anymore; he wasn't a bachelor cop, coming to terms with the fact his father was a sorry sonuva gun. He wasn't that man anymore.
Was he?
In those seconds, he felt a little (or a lot) like he used to. Slan watched her, his eyes forcefully attentive. Her reply was not one that comforted him, but he had not been looking for comfort. He rarely wanted that, honestly, and the memory of their last serious "talk" was fresh and bitter in his mind. He''d made an ass of himself. He remembered that. He remembered that very well, actually.
But Akane had asked and he had told her, and now he was done with the damn subject. For now. The thought loomed up in his mind, the kid looking at him with those wide eyes, but he forced himself to laugh. "Probably."
He took the bottle. Stared at it, for a long second. Took a drink. Set it down. He felt it settle in his stomach, knew that he should stop, but also not wanting to. He looked at her again, quietly and without much expression. Noted the shirt a second time. Recalled that she was not supposed to be there, that night. But he didn't want to ask why--he liked her there, with that bit of mystery that made everything seem a little less plausible. He knew better than to say it was a dream. but the alcohol gave him courage.
Slan reached out and touched his fingers to her collarbone, as he had wanted to that last time--when he was sober. His eyes were black when he raised them to her face, gauging his reaction. "I also missed you." He spoke the words slowly, and with deliberation, in an attempt to make them as coherent as possible. It was not just him being drunk, he reminded himself. Because it wasn't.
A separate part of him thought, I'm going to regret this in the morning.
Her light eyes lifted to his smoldering gaze and her heart-rate picked up. His fingers on her collarbone sent electrical signals right down to her toes. I also missed you, he said so slowly she almost didn’t understand. With effort she looked away and cracked a smile as her fingers caught his and she pulled his hand from her skin.
”Also drunk,” she said with amusement and shook her head as she took the bottle and held it up. ”Started full, I bet aye?” She tapped the bottle on his shoulder playfully then took another swallow and sighed. She had missed him so much she had ran for home like her tails had been on fire.
It would have been better not to encourage him in this state, but she couldn’t help it. She leaned over and landed lightly on his side, her head settled on his shoulder. ”I missed you too,” she admitted in a whisper. She looked to the bottle in her hand and sloshed the clear liquid around before tilting her head back and taking a large drink.
A weight tilted the end of the bottle down after a second, and she realized Slan had taken it back from her. She coughed once and sighed. Akane was starting to feel warm and cozy. She settled her head more firmly against his shoulder.
Without realizing it, she had kept his large hand in hers.
Slansky merely sighed when she removed his hand, but he was glad when she did not release it entirely--he interlaced their fingers, and kept their hands there between the two of them. He then turned his gaze to look at him in a bit of drunken wonderment. This is weird. It doesn't feel wrong, but... I'm not used to it. And I kind of like it. Of course, his thoughts did not have that much coherency--there were quite a few pauses between "This is weird" and "like it".
"Da. Full." He looked at it. He hadn't had that much, had he? Obviously so, if his thoughts were lining up right. Yes. Full. At the beginning of the night. Now? Not nearly as much. I missed you too. He watched with a sidelong glance as she took a deeper drink, grimacing for her.
He should have stopped her, but he didn't. He just took it back and had a sip--just a sip--before settling the bottle in the sand between them. He sighed a second time, because every time he looked at her... He just shouldn't have given her that shirt. He raised their interlinked hands, and delicately kissed her knuckles. He didn't know why. He just figured...
Christ, he didn't know. He wanted to trace the line of her shoulder, touch his lips to her neck, raise them to her mouth. Slan didn't even have the mind to cut off his thoughts, but he did blush, thankful that the dark hid it. Stupid, stupid, stupid. "I want to kiss you. I don't know if its just because I'm drunk or not, but I want to." His words were not so slurred that they were not understandable. What he didn't say was, but I don't think I will, either.
He was making a fool of himself, but he couldn't seem to stop his words.
A corner of her mouth lifted when he kissed her knuckles, and she could feel his eyes on her. I want to kiss you, he said. I don’t know if it’s just because I’m drunk but I want to.
Akane stilled, then sat up slowly. On her knees in the soft sand, she pulled her hair back over one shoulder and smiled gently. ”Close your eyes,” she whispered and lifted a hand to his face. Her fingers ran across his jaw, feeling the stubble.
His eyes closed, and she drew close. Gently and briefly, her lips touched his and she drew back. A hand came up toward her neck, but her fingers intercepted his before he could pull her near. She would not allow anything to happen if either of them would regret it later. When his eyes opened she shook her head slowly and smiled, her light eyes hazy and sad.
”Tell me again when you’re sober,” she uttered quietly and with mirth, then pulled away from him. She stood and took a few steps away to look into the distance her back to him. Her arms rose above her head in a stretch and took in a deep breath. Her demeanor was not angry or irritated, merely capricious and fluent.
Her eyes closed. It had been too difficult to move away from him. He smelled so good, like comfort and ... home, but it wasn't right. In the morning he would be damning himself for ever touching her - and Akane couldn't have that.
It was just the kind of man he was, but as men were idiots she had to save him from himself. Baka ne, she thought chagrined.
_____Translations Bake ne - an unharsh or fond way of saying "you idiot/you fool"
He did as she asked--quite frankly, it was becoming a battle to keep them open, anyway. What did I just say? He wondered and then her lips pressed against his. It was a feather-light kiss, something that he didn't know how he was felt through the numbness of the alcohol--but he did feel it, and it set him on fire. Slan reached for her,
Tell me again when you're sober. Most of him heavily protested this, as she pushed his hand down. He didn't care about when he was sober. He cared about right now. The distance didn't help. He just found himself looking at her, studying her--the long lines of her legs in those shorts, the smooth curl of calf and then ass--no.
That was the much, much smaller part of him seeing the wisdom in her words. His head was spinning, and he closed his eyes again, leaning his head against the tree. He was very close to sleep... "Come back." Now his words were slurred, and he laughed at it, at him being such an idiot, before sliding from the base of the tree to the sand, where he lay. "I think... I need to go to sleep... before I try to do something stupid again." He kept his eyes closed.
He didn't know what he would do if he kept looking at her, her words be damned. Now that she was here, he didn't know why he was so drunk--the killing had taken its toll, sure, but he could have been fine dealing with that sober. I drank because I was lonely. The thought was startlingly clear.
She turned around; regarding him quietly in the darkness with a more wisdom in her bluegrey gaze than a girl her age had the business to have. There was so much about Slan that she did not know, but did it matter? She sighed and smiled come back, he’d asked then laughed. Akane smiled ruefully and shook her head. No. No it didn’t matter, he was who he was.
Sinking to her knees again in the sand next to him she smiled fondly and pushed his hair from his forehead, kissing it sweetly before wrapping her arms around him. ”Stupid, yes but at least you’re cute when you’re smashed,” she chuckled. The embrace was firm, speaking volumes for two simple words, I’m here.
”I promised, didn’t I?” she whispered almost to herself.
